Burn Notice (2007–2013): Season 3, Episode 9 - Long Way Back - full transcript

My name is Michael Westen.

I used to be a spy until-

- We got a burn notice on you.
You're blacklisted.

When you're burned, you've got nothing-

no cash, no credit, nojob history.

- You're stuck in whatever city
they decide to dump you in.
- Where am I?

Miami.

You do whatever work comes your way.

You rely on anyone who's still talking to you-

- a trigger-happy ex-girlfriend-
- Should we shoot them?

An old friend who used to inform on you
to the F.B.I. -



You know spies.
Bunch of bitchy little girls.

- Family too-
- Hey, is that your mom again?

- if you're desperate.
- Someone needs your help, Michael.

Bottom line: As long as you're burned,
you're not going anywhere.

Previously on Burn Notice.

- Name's Tom Strickler.
- What is it that you do, Tom?

It's a bit like an agent.

Like I told you before, I'm
not interested in your money.

It's all about the burn notice with you, isn't it?
I might be able to help with that.

The fact he's a weasel
doesn't give you pause?

- It doesn't feel right. Promise me you'll walk away.
- Fi, I have to go.

You do this, you have my word
the powers that be will review your burn notice.

For you. Happy birthday.

- Yeah?
- Michael.



I just got a call from Washington.

There's been some movement
on your burn notice.

This is just the beginning, superstar.

I just can't stay here in Miami and watch.

Fi? Fiona?

When you work as a covert operative...

there's no line between who you are
and what you do.

You are who you need to be
for the operation.

It makes you effective.
It keeps things simple.

But when you spend so much time
living as someone else...

sometimes the people
you care about most...

begin to wonder who you really are.

- Michael?
- I'm upstairs, Fi.

What's that you're driving?
It didn't sound like your car outside.

It's a rental. I sold my car.

Really?

Your car didn't exactly have a pink slip.

Oh, the buyer didn't mind,
not at that price.

This, uh-This moving out of town thing.

If you're trying to make a point-

I'm not trying to make a point,
I'm trying to make a change.

I'm going home.
I told my mother to expect me.

We had one fight and you decide
to go back to Ireland?

This isn't about one fight, Michael.

If you didn't see this coming,
then you weren't paying attention.

You're too worried
about your own future...

for there to be one for us.

I'm not doing this for me.
I'm out in the cold.

The longer I stay there,
the more I endanger everyone in my life.

Don't you pretend this is about us.
It's about you!

Which is fine.

It's- It's just time I did
what I need to do... too.

- Michael?
- Yeah.

Have you seen my H & K U.S.P. Compact?

The one with the silver slide?

I need to finish packing
and I think I must have left it here.

Yeah. I, um-

I think I saw it around here somewhere.

I'll find it and I'll bring it to you.
You're not leaving today, are you?

No.

Someone must have made themselves
a powerful new friend.

It's not every day the guy
running the agency warehouse in Miami...

gets a call from the deputy director.

- So?
- Your file just landed on his desk.

So this is being taken seriously.

Over my strenuous objection,
but I seem to be the only one who thinks...

this is a waste of the agency's time.

Great. So, uh, will you be
the one running my review?

I'm just the liaison. Various regional
experts will be doing your review.

They'll get to tear apart the story...

of poor misunderstood Michael Westen...

and put you
on the black list for good.

You know, if I were you, Diego,
I'd start preparing myself for disappointment.

Funny, I was gonna give you
the same advice.

I'll be calling you to set up
the first meeting soon.

- Don't you want to wish me luck?
- Not really.

But I'm supposed to tell you
to stay out of trouble.

You're tiptoeing through a minefield.

There's a reason spies try to stay detached.

When you get emotional about something...

even if it's just your ex-girlfriend's
.45 caliber handgun...

you get distracted.

And getting distracted
can be very, very dangerous.

Michael.

You remember my brother Sean?
You met back in Ireland?

Michael McBride. It's been a while.

Last I saw you,
you were saving my sister...

from those English bastards
had her pinned down in Belfast.

Spies need to remember
every cover I.D. They've ever worn...

because you never know
when you might need to put one back on.

Yeah, it was a good thing
they were such lousy shots...

otherwise Fiona and I'd have been saying
our last Hail Marys together.

Glad you're here. We could use
another man who can shoot a gun.

- Why is that?
- It's bad news, McBride.

Someone's coming to kill my sister.

This is it. Don't you have any real guns?

I am in the middle of a move.

All of my big toys are packed up
on a boat, waiting to be smuggled back.

America's taken its toll, Sis.

You've lost your edge and your accent.

Hey. O'Neill is looking for an Irishwoman.

I'm not gonna hold up
a neon sign that says...

"Here I am. Come blow my head off. "

Look, I'm way behind,
and it sounds like I can't afford to be...

so start from the beginning.

His name is Thomas O'Neill.

One of those ultraradical bastards.

Kind of man who'd blow up
a church on a Sunday.

Kind of man I'd love to kiss
with a chainsaw.

And why does he want you dead, Fi?

- It's a long story.
- Talk quickly then.

You don't need a history lesson, McBride.

All that matters is O'Neill's supposed
to be making his move today.

And we're not suitably armed.

I'll make a call.
I know someone who delivers.

We'll need some proper hardware.
How quick can they get here?

Not quick enough. Is that him?

That's Thomas O'Neill. Bloodthirsty
hooligan got here faster than I expected.

- We need to move now.
- No.

I'm gonna teach the son of a bitch...

how to breathe
through the top of his skull.

We're outnumbered. Do the math.

But they think Fiona's alone.
We can dig in, surprise 'em.

No, we can't.
That's a trained extraction team.

We leave now or we die.

That's one in the corner.
He didn't see us.

Well, he's seen us now.

She came out the back.
She's on foot and she's not alone.

Spread out. Sweep the neighborhood.
Come on. Come on.

Let's move!

- We need a car, now.
- I'll get us one. Stay here.

- You never told him?
- No, Michael.

Not even a Glenanne would forgive me...

for working with an American spy.

Everyone at home still thinks
you're from Kilkenny.

- Sean can never know.
- Don't worry, he won't.

Better not.

- Hey, Mike-
- Sam, we have a situation.

Someone's in town trying to kill Fi.

Her brother Sean
has come into town to protect her.

- So we need a place to lay low.
- Jesus. Okay, let me make a call.

Thanks. And Sam?
What have I told you about my time in Ireland?

Uh, not much, Mike.

My name's Michael McBride
and you're just gonna have to roll with it.

You must be Sean. Sam Axe.

Okay, Sam. What's your background?

We're doing background checks now?
McBride knows me.

- Well, I don't know you.
- That's enough, Sean.

I trust him.
Fiona trusts him. Now so do you.

- We good here?
- Yeah. It's a new foreclosure.

My real estate buddy doesn't expect
anybody here for at least a month.

Better not take that long
to get rid of O'Neill.

So why is this guy so hot for you, Fi?

I thought you bit the heads off
all your old boyfriends.

I met O'Neill while I was looking
for the men who killed my sister.

You had a sister?
You never mentioned that before.

I don't like to talk about it.

There were seven of us-
five boys, two girls.

Claire was the youngest.

When she was taken,
I was angry and I was loud.

O'Neill thought
I was as radical as he was...

and he told me about a bombing
he was planning at a prep school.

And you made sure those explosives
never made it to the target.

A few years later he resurfaced
and came after me.

It's one of the reasons that I left home.

After Fi left, O'Neill disappeared again.

I hoped he'd blown himself up.

But then word got out
Fi was in touch with folks in Dublin.

Suddenly O'Neill is back on the grid
and on his way to Miami.

Right. Fiona, you and Sean
will stay at the house.

- Sam and I-
- To hell with that.

With four of us looking,
we'll find him faster.

- He knows you and Sean.
- If you think you're dealing with him
all by yourself-

We'll discuss the dealin'
when we do the findin'.

But Sam and I are doin' the findin'.

First you say run, now you say hide.

- I crossed an ocean to tear a man's limbs off-
- Sean.

There's no point in fighting with him.

Trust me.

I am not one of your damn clients.

So, do we love this place, or what?

I almost didn't go for it,
but then I thought, "I'm worth it. "

Well, you are, Strickler.
Look, my day just got crazy, so-

Oh, no time for a tour, huh?

Well, whenever you're ready,
it'll be here.

So you know how this is gonna work, right?

Apparently they're gonna look at my, uh,
activities when I was regularly employed.

But I get to set the record straight.

Well, straight-ish might be a better term.

- What does that mean?
- There are delicate issues.

Phrases to avoid, phrases to employ.
It needs proper handling.

- Truth doesn't need handling.
- The truth?

Oh, come on.
You are not in the truth business, Michael.

You never were.

Look, partners have to trust each other.

So trust me when I say that right now
your reputation is valuable.

- People fear you. We can use that.
- To make you money.

Michael, did you really think
rebuilding a reputation would be free?

Money greases palms,
opens doors, buys documents...

and it puts Michael Westen
right back where he wants to be.

Now, understand,
this project is very delicate...

so let's not break it.

I'm gonna send you
some paperwork tomorrow.

Your side of the story. Study up.

Hey, Mikey.

This is Thomas O'Neill's Interpol file?

Yeah. You'd think a guy
who crossed an ocean to kill Fi...

would have a file
with a little more meat on its bones.

- That's it.
- I thought he was supposed to be...

this one-man, ultraradical, splinter group.

Well, he's got the reputation,
but not the rap sheet.

This looks like he's not tied to anything.

He isn't. Interpol thinks he's freelancing.

They like him
for about 12 bombings in Europe.

All with the same chemical signature,
but nobody can pin anything on the guy.

O'Neill has some known associates
in the States. They're money guys.

One of'em just bought a condo
in South Beach.

My bet is it's not a vacation home.
We should get eyes on it.

What are you two doing?
Would you put those things away?

Mom, wait. Mom.

Hey, come on in.

Boys...

this is Tiffany.

Hi, Tiffany Ward, Tiffany Ward Realty.

Mom, are you selling the house?

I was thinking about it.

With you about to get your old job back
and Fi heading home...

I just thought maybe it was about time
I made a change myself.

- Can we start in the bedrooms?
- Sure, they're in the back.

I raised two boys here.

The way they behaved,
it was more like four.

So I think a large family
could live here very comfortably.

This house is just filled
with so much love-

Not now, Mikey. We gotta go.

Just sayin', Mike.
It's okay if your head is spinning.

First it's your girl,
now it's your childhood home.

I never liked that house.

Yeah, but you like Fiona, right?

There's O'Neill.

Why does it look like
the Sons of the Lucky Charms Revolution...

are getting ready for battle?

Because he knows
Fiona is on his tail. That's her in the sedan.

Aw, crap.

She must've tracked O'Neill
through his Miami connections.

- She went around me.
- Mike, she thinks that he's alone.

She has no idea what she's getting into.
It's gonna be W.W. llI down there.

O'Neill is mine.

I'll give you first shot,
but when you miss...

because you broke a nail
or dropped your purse...

I'll step in and clean him up for you.

She's not picking up.

Sam, give me the keys to the car.

That's Miss Reynolds's car.

The keys, now!

No, don't, Mike.

Hello, gorgeous. Been waitin' for this.

They knew we were comin'.

No!

What the hell?

Oh, my God.

Get back inside, now!

Sorry about the Buick.
There was just no other-

Aw, just... don't.

Aw!

What part of" Sam and I
will do the findin"' was unclear?

You get on my page now,
or someone's gettin' killed.

No more ignorin'your phone.
No more runnin'off without-

McBride, stop your lecturin'.
Why do you think we're here?

We came to apologize and say thanks.

I mean, I'm not thrilled.
The bastard's still breathing.

But I'm glad that we are.
Sam, it-

Please, I've been dodging
Miss Reynolds's calls for an hour.

I'm sure the cops ran the plates on the Buick-

Oh, wait. Here we go. Yeah, that's her... again.

Now that we've found O'Neill,
how exactly are we dealing with him?

He needs to find you. He'll want to talk
to anyone who can help him with that...

which gives me the in I need to get him
and his whole team busted by the police.

Right. You can't just
walk right up to him.

As soon as you open your mouth
and he hears you're Irish-

I'll approach him
as an American with a deal.

Really? Sure you can pull that off?

I've gone undercover as an American before.

- I'll be fine.
- Dunno.

Your accent's a bit dodgy.

The uninvited could at least
have the decency to introduce himself.

- My name's unimportant.
- You're sittin' at the wrong table.

- Fellas, get him outta here.
- I assure you I'm not.

This is the planning committee
for the Glenanne wake, right?

Easy.

What are you gonna do,
play me a song with that?

What's he gonna do?

Funny. I want you to tell me
if you recognize this voice.

O'Neill should be in the ground.

He and his bloody army were ready for us.

We need to leave town now.

I own a company. I'm an arms dealer.

If it goes "boom" or "bang"...

or helps unhappy people kill each other,
I sell it.

Miss Glenanne works for me.

Whatever, pal.
I couldn't care less about your business.

I want to know how you come to have
her voice on tape.

My line of work breeds distrust...

which is why I monitor communications.

And what did I hear
when I listened in on Miss Glenanne?

An Irishman named Thomas O'Neill...

has come with a small army to Miami
to kill her.

You got a lot of brass on you, fella.
I'll give you that.

Now, it won't surprise you to learn...

I can make her appear whenever I want,
wherever I choose.

Well, Mr. Magic Man.
If you make her appear now...

I'll buy you a mighty fine drink.

I wish it were that simple.
But she's doing a job for me.

If she disappears, I need someone to do
what she no longer can.

- I was thinking of you.
- I don't deal with people I don't know.

- You should get to know me.
- Don't think I will.

I found her once. I'll find her again.

Well-

If that doesn't work out for you,
call me.

Sláinte.

Sláinte.

I thought the Irish were impulsive.

Okay, so where are we
if he doesn't go for your proposition?

- In need of a backup plan.
- Well, maybe we should ask Fi.

She might have a perspective that we don't.

That's the real estate lady.

Butch, Sundance, cool it.

Hey, make sure to tell her about
the quality craftsmanship in the new sunroom.

- Hi, you here about the house?
- No, I'm here about your son.

- Can Michael come out and play?
- What the hell are you doing here?

Exactly what I said I would do,
delivering your study materials.

Here it is.

Exactly what you're going to tell
our friends at the C.I.A.

You want me to say I worked a job
helping a Somali warlord?

Somali businessman, yeah.
It's an intelligence asset.

It was a real operation.
Lucky for us, all the U.S. Operatives died...

so nobody can say you weren't there.

Lines up perfectly
with your time in Africa...

and it helps me set up a little side project
I have here in Miami.

- What side job?
- Too early to talk details.

Let's focus on the, uh- the businessman.

He's agreed to vouch for your
unimpeachable conduct on the job...

for a price, which I will pay.

No sale. I'm not clearing my name
by getting in bed with a... murderer.

Stop being so naive.
You're just replacing one lie with another.

And this lie washes you clean.

Nothing about this is clean.

You need to realize that
this isn't about telling the world...

the truth about Michael Westen.

This is about getting your oldjob back.

In the end, what does it matter how?

Oh, and please tell your mom
sorry about the drapes.

They looked better in the catalog. Honestly.

You take that. We'll talk later.

Yeah.

It's O'Neill.

I've had a change of heart. Let's meet.

- He didn't say why?
- No.

He just said O'Neill called
and we needed to be ready.

Fiona, why are you coming home
without McBride?

People are who they are.
They don't change just 'cause you want them to.

So, you're still in love with him.

- You ready?
- Of course.

- Where we headed?
- I need O'Neill to deliver a package for me.

- What package?
- A little gift...

with a big prison sentence attached to it.

- Let's go.
- Michael, you know, I-

I lost one sister. I can't lose another.

I want to thank you for protecting Fiona.

You're an honest man,
and I'm honored to be fighting beside you.

Glad you came to your senses.

That we'll see.

- Now talk.
- It's simple.

I'll give you Miss Glenanne's location.
You get to kill her.

I deliver the girl and in return...

you deliver a shipment
of assault rifles to one of my buyers.

I got a better idea. Fellas?

I'm gonna shoot little bits off you
until you tell me where she is.

Now where you want the first?
You want your elbow or your bloody kneecap?

I really don't have time for this.

Put the gun down
or I'll have you put down.

I'm not sure you've taken stock
of the situation.

Well, there you go, eh?

You couldn't be trusted,
so I brought insurance.

Take your hands off me
and put the gun down.

- Gun goin' down.
- Very good. You can follow orders.

Now, tell me we have a deal.

If you stop lighting me up
like a little Christmas tree...

then maybe we will have a deal, yes.

All right, that's the signal. Turn 'em off.

- Sean, what are you doing?
- I can take them all out.

That is not a risk you get to take.

I just agreed to your deal.

Simple miscommunication.

Sean, they're gonna kill McBride.

No, I can get them all.

Sean, turn the laser off.

It's your last chance, partner,
or the deal dies right here.

So do you. Get this off me.

Do it.

Sean!

- Wasn't so difficult, was it?
- We'll talk soon.

That's everything on your list.

Time to bring
Thomas O'Neill's monster to life.

Meet O'Neill's signature bomb.

He's trotted that thing out
12 times and never been caught.

Let's make lucky number 13 the one
that links him to all his uncredited work.

Fiona, you rememberJack Tracy
from the bicycle shop by the church?

I just got off the phone with him.

- The old guy. He was good to us.
- Right.

Real plugged in to the underground.
Well, he's got bad news.

There's a rumor that O'Neill's
taking you home, putting you up for sale.

Sounds like there's a number of folks...

with ample reason to hate Fiona Glenanne
already showing interest.

That could be a lot of people.

Seems O'Neill is lookin'
to raise his profile back home.

Thinks you're his ticket.
I should've force-fed him a bullet
when I had the chance.

If you had, you two would be havin'
this conversation alone.

I could've put them all down, McBride.
I had a clear shot.

Did you have five clear shots?

I think you're overestimating your ability
to hit five moving targets.

- You think so?
- I know so.

- Well, how 'bout I-
- How 'bout you shut up!

We have work to do.

Bomb makers, like master chefs...

tend to have a signature dish.

If you can duplicate it, you can leave
their fingerprint wherever you want.

Some bombs are designed
to remove an obstacle...

some bombs are designed
to be loud and scary...

while other bombs
arejust designed to kill and maim.

- Rat poison?
- It contains an anticoagulant.

He likes his victims
to hemorrhage and bleed out.

He wants them to suffer.

He does it for the headlines
and the pictures splashed on the front page.

He blows up people just to spread fear.

Go. Pick up some screws
while you're there.

You two play nice.
You think you can handle that?

Guess we'll find out, McBride.

Michael?

Hey, Mom. Sorry I missed your calls.

I came by to, uh,
see if you needed anything.

Sure you did. That's why you're
in here stealing all my screws.

It's all right. I don't need to know.

Let's just pretend
that you're helping me clean my garage...

for my open house.

That sounds good.

So, any other big life changes
you want to tell your son about?

What? I thought you'd be thrilled.

I know you never wanted
to come back to this house again.

No, I didn't, but that's me.
You're the one who always insisted...

that every single memory
we had here was a good one.

Or did you suddenly change your mind?

Maybe I finally decided
to move on, Michael.

Something I learned
from my son, no doubt.

Anyway, I didn't want
to feel bad about...

throwing this stuff out
without showing it to you first, okay?

I ran across it
when I was showing Tiffany around.

- My model airplanes.
- Yeah.

There's another box just like it inside,
in the closet.

- You don't want this stuff anymore?
- I was hoping that you would.

This isn't gonna make any sense to you...

but most people, normal people...

go through their life
collecting boxes like this.

I just don't want you
to ever look back...

and regret letting this stuff go.

Now, if you're convinced
that you never will...

I will throw it away for you.

- I'll just- I'll- I'll take a look.
- Oh, well...

I'll go get the other box.

Well, this is gonna make O'Neill
look like he's got...

one hell of an interest in the basement
of the State Department.

He's gonna have a lot of explaining to do.

That's the noose.

So you think this slippery Irishman's
gonna stick his head in?

If we want to get him busted,
we need to put him behind the wheel of this van.

And if he won't do it on his own,
we'll have to just gently encourage him.

McBride. I'll be right there.

Right, Sean.

That's the last of what you packed.

It's such a shame to leave so much behind.
I was just getting comfortable.

I know you're trained to walk away
from everything in 30 minutes or less, but-

It's not easy for everyone.

I can't believe in a few days
I'm gonna wake up back home.

And you'll be you again, Fi.

I wonder what'll it be like.

You'll have your friends there
and your family.

They don't know me anymore.

- You're still the same person.
- No, I'm not.

Who I am now has so much to do
with what I've done here...

what I've done with you.

Fi.

L-

It's okay, Michael.
We're so not good at this.

McBride, everything taken care of?

Yeah. Let's go, then.

Sean, you have to stop parking
your stolen car on the side streets.

- It's too exposed.
- What?

I left it in a parking lot
this morning.

That's not your Toyota a block away,
parked behind some trees?

Get the girl. Get the girl outta here now!

- Do him.
- No. No. He has to live.

You got some good friends, Westen.

Come on, man.

- Fiona.
- Michael!

Fiona!

Michael, thank God you're okay.

Just keep holding the pressure.

- I am holding the pressure.
- Oh, damn it. I can't get it.

- Where is she?
- Sorry about leaving you back there.

- Broken ribs weren't a priority.
You were breathin'steady.
- Where is she?

I don't know.
I got here, found Sean, called Maddy.

Sean wouldn't let Sam
take him to the hospital.

He was saying if we got caught up explaining
all this crap to the cops, we'd never find Fi.

- Push harder. Right here.
- Okay.

- Why won't it stop?
- How did O'Neill find the safe h-

All right, walk the perimeters
and keep your radios on Channel 1.

Hello, sweetheart. This way.
That's right. Come on in here.

Here you go. Oh.

Stop your nonsense, sweetheart.

There we go. Got a nice-

Where's Fiona?

You tell me where Fiona is now!

I'll call you back.

Now, how would I know that?

Thomas O'Neill stopped one of his men
from executing me.

It sounded like he made a deal with someone
to keep me alive. I thought of you.

Bravo.
Put that all together yourself, did you?

No point in denying it.
You would have figured it out eventually.

- You sent Fiona to her death.
- I sent her home, like she wanted.

What happens after she gets there-
Well, she's a big girl.

- Strickler, you have no i-
- Hey, I did this the cleanest way possible.

Sure, the brother got clipped,
but you were spared.

I'm your goddamn white knight, Michael.

- You tell me-
- Hey! Hey! Get back.

Get the hell back. Right now.

I'm gettin' a little sick
of your ingratitude.

I'm the one trying to help you out.

You wanted back in? Well, guess what.

A gun-dealing, bomb-making girlfriend
wasn't helping your case.

She had to go, and it was clear you were
too attached to do what needed to be done.

So like a good partner, I did it for you.

What the hell are you doing?

You're staying put for the next hour.

By then, the cargo company I hired...

will have Miss Glenanne and her fan club
in international waters...

heroic rescue attempts
will be impossible...

and you can move on, knowing there wasn't
a damn thing you could do.

I'll be the bad guy. You're welcome.

Tell me where she is.

- Get out of my way.
- You don't get to have the girl and the job.

She doesn't fit into your future,
our future.

So why don't you do yourself a favor
and just forget the past.

Fiona is not my past.

- Mike, where are you?
- Sam, listen to me.

Strickler arranged for O'Neill
to get out of the U.S. On a cargo ship.

He's been making regular calls
to a charter fishing house on Key Biscayne.

That must be where O'Neill has Fi.
It's perfect.

Those places are secluded.
They got private docks.

Perfect place to load a prisoner
onto a transport boat.

- How's Sean?
- He's finally stable.

I'm comin' to get you.

This is the place. Fi's still here.

- You sure?
- That's the fishing boat.

Let's get that bomb in the bag...

get it on the boat
and call the Coast Guard.

Make sure the feds
catch him with it this time.

Fiona Glenanne.

God, I've waited
a long time for this moment.

Oh, so have I.

In my version, I'm stabbing you
in the throat with an ice pick.

Is that how you saw it?

I can't say I did, no.
No, it wasn't like that.

But don't worry,
you'll soon be spending quite a bit of time...

with some sharp metal instruments.

You're putting me on the auction block.

You're not man enough to do it yourself.

If this was just about you and me...

I'd be holding a bloody hammer...

and you'd be chokin' on a mouthful
of teeth, them little teeth there.

But the thing is,
it's bigger than us, you see.

When I set foot on Irish soil...

it's gonna be a whole new world for me.

Because there are
some very powerful men...

who are gonna give me anything I want...

in exchange for you, you see?

Even a seat at the table.

There's no place in Ireland
for a bastard like you.

There's always room for a patriot.

You're no patriot. You're a monster...

who wraps himself in a cause
to justify murdering children!

Even your own country wants you dead.

- You're wrong!
- Hmm, you hit like a girl.

Sam, if anything happens to me-

Oh, I'm finishing this, brother.
I'm getting Fi outta there no matter what.

Just don't ever tell her I said that.

O'Neill, get out here.

What the hell's goin' on?

Get to the boat. Get to the boat!

Go! All right,
keep 'em covered. Keep 'em covered!

Move now!

Get to the boat. Start the boat up!

Sam, Fiona's clear.
Get 'em on the boat.

Get in the water! Track the girl down!

She's gone. Forget her.

No! We need to get to the boat.

Sam, you got eyes on Fi?

I don't see her, Mikey.
I'm calling it in.

Coast Guard. Is this an emergency?

I just saw a group of men with guns
loading something onto a boat.

Fi!

Fi! Fi! Fi!

- How are they?
- Better.

- They've been asleep for hours.
- Michael.

- I was supposed to have an open house here today.
- I'm sorry, Mom.

No. I've decided
to take the listing off the market.

I don't think it's time
for me to leave yet.

If that's what you think
is best for you, Mom.

It's not just doing
what's best for me, Michael.

You hide your clients here.
You let your friends stay here.

I don't think you're ready
to say good-bye either.

Maybe you're right.

Michael, get over here.

So, it's Westen now, is it?

It has been for a while.
I owe you an explanation. Uh-

Back in Ireland,
there were a lot of questions...

about whether or not you were one of us.

I always thought you were.

- Now I know I was right.
- Thank you, Sean.

The problem is O'Neill outed you
as an American.

You can never go back
and, uh, neither can she.

- Should I be looking out for anyone?
- No.

- I should be able to keep 'em at bay.
- I'll owe you for that.

The hell you will. That squares us.

I, uh, heard what you did to Strickler.
If you need any help running-

Strickler's body was found
next to a certain type of bomb.

Our friend O'Neill
will be charged with his murder...

and the 12 bombings in Europe.

It's better than he deserves.

But it'll do.

Michael.

Yeah, Fi.

- Hey.
- Hi.

I wanted to, um-

I wanted to-

Don't.

It's okay. We're no good at this.

Diego.
Yeah, I thought you forgot-

Listen, Michael, what were you doing
working with Tom Strickler?

- Yeah, it's complicated.
- Do you know the kind of people
he was in bed with?

- The kind of stuff he was involved in?
- Diego, calm down.

Strickler's dead. He was shot to death.

Now someone's in town
cleaning up the mess he left behind.

I don't know who I can trust.

Even at the agency.

- Wait, who's in town?
- I don't know.

I'm being followed, Michael.

Someone's coming for me
and they're coming for you too.

We're not safe. We need to meet now.

Where are you?

3732 Brighton Avenue. Apartment 412.

I'll be right there.

We got a 1-8-7 down here.

Set up a perimeter.
Search the area for suspects.

When you realize
that an operation is compromised...

that your enemies are on the move,
you're on a clock.

You have to move as fast as you can
to try to contain the damage...

and harden your defenses
before it's too late.

Sometimes you make it in time...

and sometimes you don't.

I need everybody to move back.

When you work in intelligence...

the worst feeling in the world
is knowing nothing...

being caught up in something
you don't begin to understand.

Because it's not
the enemy you see that gets you.

It's the one you don't.

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