Burn Notice (2007–2013): Season 4, Episode 6 - Entry Point - 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, no job 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.

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

Interrogating a hostile prisoner...

is a little like proposing marriage.

You want to get it right on the first try.

So you don't settle
until you find the perfect spot.

You take special care to create
the right ambience and set the mood.

And then you wait for the best moment
to pop the question.

Let's go.

What? We said 48 hours, man.

It's been 48 hours, 17 seconds.

I'm sick of waiting. Let's go.



Do you know how many months I spent
trying to link assassinations in Chile...

to bombings in Hamburg,
to bank accounts in Switzerland?

I finally get one lead.

Kendra in there strangled him to death.

I kinda want to know why. Let's go.

So do I, but that's
not a Girl Scout in there.

Kendra's a trained operative.
You can't just go in there...

She tried to put a knife
through your heart, Michael.

- You want to go in and play it cool?
- Not exactly.

Listen. We don't know
anything about this woman...

other than she likes
to wear tight pants...

and dump bodies
from the wheel wells of planes.

All right?
We gotta break her from scratch.

Fear up.
That is the only technique on the menu.

If I could finish a thought...

It's not about what we know.
It's about what she knows.

She knows that we're not government.
That means we're private.

That means we can sell her
as an uncooperative prisoner.

- You're talking about a rendition play?
- I was trying to.

- Okay. Delta's had some success with
that in Afghanistan. - Yeah, I know.

I hope you listen better in there.

Just follow my lead.

There he is.

I'm glad you came back.
I was getting so lonely.

And look. You brought a friend.

Let's start with something easy.

Who do you work for?

Where's your staff?

You're only gonna get so many chances
to answer my questions, so pay attention.

I get where you're going
with the whole vibe here.

But you need a cart
with some scary pliers and a saw.

- Stuff like that.
- That what you want?

Just tell me who you work for.

I'll give you a hint.
I don't work for that guy.

That much I know.

I had a nice little chat
with his Serbian pals.

They perked right up when I told them...

I was holding the woman
who killed their weapons supplier.

Pretty sure they have
one of those carts you like, with all the tools.

So what? I answer your questions or...

I get paid, and you answer theirs.

Shall I give 'em a call?

The threat of rendition
is usually more persuasive...

than the fear of immediate torture.

For prisoners who want to believe
that they've hit rock bottom...

the idea that their circumstances
could get even worse...

is a powerful motivator.

It's kind of like the grass
always being greener, only in reverse.

One last chance, Kendra.
Who do you work for?

You know, one time I did an interrogation
with some Eastern Europeans.

They like to start at the feet
and work their way up.

But even if they made it
all the way to my head...

say like this...

I think I could handle it.

Yeah. I'm pretty sure
that I could handle it.

Okay, that's enough. That's enough. Stop.

Oh, you're just adorable.

- Thank you. It's so sweet.
- Outside! Now!

What the hell was that?

One of us had to stop her
from scrambling her brains.

I know. You did the right thing.

What?

Yeah. I know I did. So what? Why did...

Rendition only works
when the bad cop isn't in the room.

She invited him in
and kicked him in the teeth.

Our play was dead.
We needed a new one. Now we've got it.

- We don't have a damn thing.
- That woman is a predator.

She's overconfident around people
she thinks of as prey.

You're the prey, Jesse.

So I'm the weak link.

I'm the guy with the bosses
breathing down his neck.

That's what I was trying to tee up.

Okay. All right.

But look, if we make the soft play,
it is just me in that room from now on.

Okay? I gotta be
out on an island by myself.

That's the only way
this can possibly work.

I know. And this better work.

- You want me to what?
- You know, back Jesse up.

Okay. Mike, you lied to me.

You brought me here under false pretenses.

I am now officially eating my lunch...

and drinking my beer in protest.

Noted. But I didn't lie to you.

I said I needed your help, which is true.

Yeah, but I thought that meant
I was gonna interrogate Kendra.

Since when am I the backup guy?

Jesse's gotta come off
like a weak underling.

He needs an unseen boss from hell.

He needs your booming baritone
rattling the walls.

The dulcet tones of Sam Axe, huh?

Mike, you think this is the smart play?

This is not gonna be easy
for Jesse to pull off.

I know. That's why I need you in there.

Jesse's new. He can't do it alone.

I need you to supervise and play hard-ass.

Okay, I'm in.

But if Jesse doesn't break her,
the big dog gets to eat... more.

Just so long as the big dog is happy.

Michael, shall we?

So where you two lovebirds off to?
Hot date?

A job referral. Big money gig.

Some guy, a friend of a friend,
makes knockoff handbags.

He's in some kind of trouble.
Needs us to bail him out.

I'll swing by as soon as I can.
Hopefully this won't take too long.

Oh, yeah. It never does.

Don't let him slip you any wooden nickels.

Sorry about the mess.

These were all supposed
to be in Vegas last week.

There are just so many.

Yeah. Yeah.

Oh. Those would look great on you.

Take them. I have hundreds of them.

I forge high-end luxury goods...

"Every bit as delicious as the real thing.

Slice the price."

- It's my motto.
- Do these come in blue?

So, Buddy, how about
you tell us why we're here?

I'm pretty sure that
the client on my last job...

is trying to kill me...

so I needed a special strike force...

a commando team...

which is what I heard you guys were.

- What's this?
- It's my last job.

Two little onyx lion heads
and a piece of tooled leather.

I have no idea what it's for...

but the guy offered 20 grand...

Five up front and 15 on delivery.

Twenty grand? For this?

Yeah.

Sorry.

- Who's the guy?
- Honestly, don't know.

He never left a name.
We never met in public.

He used one of those
voice scrambler thingies.

- So just a couple red flags?
- It gets worse. Let me show you.

I came out here
for a little celebratory soak...

and I damn near zapped myself
into the next life.

He electrified my Jacuzzi.

And you didn't think to call the police?

Attempted murder usually interests them.

What was I gonna tell them?

That I was almost the victim...

of a hot tub assassination attempt?

It looked like an accident.

Plus, I've got an allergy to cops.

That's why I called you.

- Buddy, I don't think we can really help you.
- Oh...

If it's about the money,
you can name your own price.

I know that this guy
is gonna come back and kill me...

and I don't have anyone else to go to.

Don't worry, Buddy. We're gonna help.

- You will?
- Yeah.

Oh, thank God.

Thank you so much.

You mentioned that when he called,
he had a voice scrambler.

- Did you get a number?
- I did better than that.

I greased a woman at the phone company
with some Jimmy Choo knockoffs...

and she... what-do-you-ma-call it...

triangulated where the calls came from.

And then I went
and bought this little honey.

So I thought, you know,
we could go and catch the guy together.

Why don't you just give us the address,
and we'll take it from there?

For someone who wires hot tubs
to kill people...

I can see the appeal
of an abandoned machine shop.

Those doors are reinforced steel.

Either I get 20 minutes of quiet time,
or we come back with a blowtorch.

Fi?

Looks like someone has been here recently.

Fi, I got an antenna on the roof.

Look what I got. A security camera.

Okay. Let's slowly and casually move away.

He might not have seen our approach from...

I think he saw us.

I'm gonna call 911.

How very civic-minded of you, Michael.

You don't guard a roomful of belt grinders
and band saws with a bomb.

Something in there is worth finding...

and it won't be around much longer
if that fire doesn't get put out.

Fire and Rescue's not gonna let you
just waltz right in there, Michael.

One problem at a time.

Okay, let's go.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Michael's gonna try and swing by.

- I guess he got caught up.
- It's all good, man. We're doing our thing.

- So if you don't mind?
- Right. Yeah.

With great pleasure.

Were my instructions too complicated...

for you to understand?

Do I need to speak
in single-syllable words?

Maybe draw you a picture?
Now quit playing nice!

Get in there and get me some damn answers!

Sorry, man.
Got a little caught away there.

Every interrogation
is a struggle between two parties for control...

but when forward progress
depends on you giving up this control...

you have to be careful.

An overt show of weakness is transparent.

Bluffing strength and allowing
that bluff to get called...

creates a believable fiction...

that lets the person across the table...

think they actually have something on you.

Okay, I need to know
who hired you to kill this man...

I need to know why,
and I need to know right now.

Wow. Someone's needy.

You feeling the pressure
to perform in here?

Look, I just need...

I mean, I want you...

You know what I think?

I think your bosses
are pushing you too hard.

Expecting too much from you.

I didn't strap you to that chair
so we can talk about me. All right?

How many do you have, by the way?

Bosses, I mean. I've counted two so far.

I really hope
they don't all treat you like trash.

Just answer my damn questions.

Honey, where did they find you?

I'm never going to answer your questions.

But I think it's cute
that you haven't realized that by now.

Who hired you?

That feel good... to let it out?

Let me ask you something.

What happens if you don't bring this in?

That's what I thought.

We can help each other here.

No. No. I'm not authorized
to make any kind of decision.

No, I'm sure you're not.

But there's no harm in hearing me out.

Lean in.

Come on. I'm not gonna bite.

I just want this conversation
to be between us.

How about I give you something,
you give me something?

What do you say?

- Um, what do you want?
- I did the math.

I know I don't leave this room.

That's life.

But what's killing me
is not knowing who will be killing me.

What? You want to know who we are?

All right, yeah. Okay, fine.

- But I'm not going first. You go first.
- That's fair enough.

This guy... He was a pay job.

I punch a clock just like you.

Except I punch a little harder.

Okay, lover. Your turn.

All right.

I work for a private company, okay?

Yeah, Sam. How's Jesse doing?

Well, the kid's good.

He got Kendra to admit
that she's a cleaner...

by baiting her into going
after who he works for.

Okay, whoa. What's going on over there?

Are you in a presidential motorcade
or something?

No, I had to call Fire and Rescue.

That doesn't sound good.

I got it under control, but I gotta go.

I gotta get in there
before everything gets washed away.

Keep the car running.

We might have to leave in a hurry.

Are you sure you don't want
to tag-team this?

I'm really good at getting what I want
from firefighters.

Bureaucracy is a spy's best friend.

The overlap between city, county
and state emergency response...

creates confusion
that can be exploited at a crime scene.

If you wander in off the street
and claim jurisdiction...

you buy time
by wrapping yourself in red tape.

Hey! You there. Who are you?

Hey, Carter. We worked that mess
two months back on the interstate.

- You have lost some weight.
- Who's Carter? I'm McKenzie.

- I've never seen you before in my life.
- Really? I must've mixed up.

- Uh, county arson investigator's unit.
- County?

No, this is a city thing.
This is my scene.

If that were true, why would I be here?

- Didn't one of the boys call you?
- Who?

Any one of them.
Just call over county office.

Tell them Randy, with an "R," is here
and they'll fill you in.

Damn it. That's just what I need.

What's it look like in there, "Randy"?

One big barbecue.

I got a chubby man with a gray beard
making a call, Michael.

You don't have much time.

There's a lump of plastic
that used to be a laptop.

Somebody definitely set up shop here.

I got a resin mold here.

Looks like the guy tried to destroy it
before he took off.

If it's important, grab it and go.
The clock is ticking.

Buddy didn't know what
the little lion heads he'd made were for.

Well, I just found what they fit into.

Chubby gray beard is off his phone
and headed your way, Michael.

Randy!

County has no record
of rolling units to this fire.

- Who you with again?
- Carter, you need to get your men back.

- I have toxic material here.
- What are you talking about?

I need to get this sample
to a lab right now!

Randy, put the bucket down.
I need to see some I.D.

Carter, do you want to be responsible...

when everyone starts dropping
from radiation sickness?

I need this to get to a lab right now!
Everyone, back.

Everyone, just stand back!
I'm sorry, Carter.

I'll call you, you know, from the lab,
which is where I'm going.

He firebombed his own place?

What's he gonna do to me?

I thought you guys were gonna get
all super-squad action team and fix this.

Things got a little messy,
but we turned a bad situation into a lead.

This is a mold for a replica of a sword...

that belonged to Alexander the Great.

You see this?
This is where your onyx lion heads fit in.

That's fascinating...

but not quite the same thing as catching
the lunatic who's trying to kill me.

We're getting to that, Buddy.

This is where we're gonna catch him.

At a party for a software company?

Ken Bocklage, the C.E.O.,
just bought the sword at auction.

He's putting it on display...

at a new-product launch party
this Saturday.

After that, it goes into their vault.

Saturday is the thief's only chance
to get to the sword and steal it.

And when he makes his move,
we'll be there to catch him.

How? We don't even know
what he looks like.

There aren't a ton of thieves
who can move stolen antiquities.

It's a pretty small world.

We have a friend looking into
our mystery man's M. O.

We're hoping Interpol has a file.

You're hoping?

Have a little faith, Buddy.

Boy, it is nice to be outside again.

Next time we have to interrogate someone,
I say we do it at the beach.

I'll keep that in mind, Sam.
How's Jesse doing with Kendra?

Slow and steady,
but the kid's made some progress.

As did I on your antiquities thief.

Turns out that swapping in fakes
is just not that common.

There's only two guys working
that like to do it that way.

- This is only one file, Sam.
- Right.

That's 'cause the other guy is doing life
in some Russian hole...

for stealing a czar's furry hat.

- No name or photo?
- Sorry, Mike.

No one's even seen the guy.

The French police call the guy
"Monsieur Glissant."

- Mr. Slippery. That's cute.
- They should call him Monsieur Psycho...

'cause when he couldn't get away clean
in Kyoto, he got away violent.

Blew up an elevator in a museum.

Wow.

Guy's got a real passion
for making things go kaboom.

Suspected of seven heists
on three continents.

And now he brought
his traveling act to Miami.

If we're going to make this
his swan song and save Buddy's life...

we need to go see Ken Bocklage.

Let him know he needs to hire
some extra security to protect his sword.

I do look good in black.

- What's next, Selena?
- I believe we're next, Mr. Bocklage.

Karen Campbell, Scott Miller.
We're private security consultants.

- We need a moment of your time.
- That's not how this works.

You need to call me
and make an appointment, okay?

- Sir, we have a video...
- Mr. Bocklage, you're about to be robbed.

Am I? Would you care to elaborate?

You just bought one of
Alexander the Great's swords.

A thief is coming to relieve you of it.

We've been hunting this man
since he hit a client of ours in Mumbai.

- Who? Who are you working for?
- We're not at liberty to say.

But this thief stole some very valuable
Indonesian artifacts from our client...

and ruined our reputation,
and we're here to get both back.

I need you to know
that I don't have a sense of humor.

- If this is a joke... - This is a mold
the thief made for the Alexander sword.

We recovered it
from a structure fire in Miami.

We're not wasting your time.

Someone in your company is going
to steal your sword and swap in a fake.

Now, hold on just a damn minute.
You're saying that I hired a thief?

He didn't make a forgery
because he's planning an armed robbery.

He clearly has the access he needs
to swap it and walk it out the door.

But he can't do that
if you let us identify him.

We'll need to see your employment files...

Absolutely not.

I'm not handing over
confidential employee records...

to people we don't know.

I appreciate your assistant's concern.

You mean my head of security's concerns.

They're my concerns as well.

I'm not just hiring a couple of people
who wander in off the street.

You have a file, some wild claims,
but you have no proof.

Far as I'm concerned, you could be
two thieves working on some con.

Selena, let's set up that videoconference
in my office now.

You heard the man, Michael.
He doesn't want to hire us.

Maybe we should turn in a résumé
at the H.R. Department anyway.

See if we can't change his mind.

Twenty-three seconds.
Not exactly a record.

Keep your eye out for this woman.

Aw. What an adorable family photo.

This will take only a minute, okay?

Less talking, more stealing.

For a spy in a rush
to steal large computer files quickly...

file sharing sites are a dream come true.

File sharing has none
of the drawbacks of e-mail.

There are no size limitations on uploads...

no waiting for files to bounce
through multiple servers...

and no electronic trail leading
back to the account on the receiving end.

The only drawback is whatever you post
can be seen by anyone in the world.

But since nearly every visitor
to these sites...

is busy trolling for illegal
music and movie downloads...

chances are good
no one will think twice...

about whatever boring intelligence
you've left there.

Excuse me. Hey. Hi.

I'm here to interview
for the secretary position.

- No, you're not.
- Yes, I am.

I came all the way from Fort Lauderdale.

I guess telling time isn't
one of your professional skills.

You're obviously too disorganized
to hack it at this company.

Did you just throw that at me?

- No.
- You're gonna lie to my face.

- I'm calling Security.
- No, wait, wait, wait.

I did it. I did it.

I should just go now. Now I should go.

- This behavior is truly bizarre.
- Look at it this way...

You'll have a great story to tell
Mr. Mittens and Patches when you go home.

I'm telling you, Fi.
Andrew Deans is our guy.

Three new hires in the last year...

and you go right for the guy
with the spotless record.

A little too spotless.
Perfect performance reviews.

Perfect credit reports.

Even the best employees
raise some red flags.

Deans is working awfully hard
to fly under the radar.

There's gotta be a reason.

Well, he's hiding something.

That light above the door...
It's a video camera.

That's not enough to confirm
Deans is Mr. Slippery...

but we're definitely going in the back.

Hmm. Criminals and celebrities...
They never live up to the hype.

Maybe he'll impress you
when you get to know him a little better.

We're about to find out.

Damn it. Come on. Open.

Finally.

Minute, 53.

Not bad considering
the guy clearly doesn't skimp on security.

- The lock was professional grade.
- Just don't.

There's no way 40 grand a year
pays for all this.

This place screams "supplemental income."

Fi, this is professional grade.

He's got holograms and watermarks
laid in under the laminate.

A book on Alexander the Great.

And an article on his sword.

And here we have infrared paint.

Not something you just have lying around.

Not unless you're Mr. Slippery.

That's strange. I missed a call.

Michael, we've got a problem.

Fi, Buddy. I got your text.

Grove Marina works.
I'm about 10 minutes behind.

Ditching my phone now like you said,
so I can't be tracked.

I never set a meeting with Buddy.

No, the thief did.

Call him now.

Oh, damn. It's voice mail. He cut him off.

- We're 20 minutes from Grove Marina.
- I can make it in 12.

Buddy!

Buddy!

Michael, the antenna...

That shed is wired to blow.

- Fi.
- You have a better idea, now's the time.

When an operative hears a gunshot...

his first instinct is to identify
where the shot came from.

When a civilian hears a gunshot...

he might turn to locate
the source of the shot...

or he might run straight
for the nearest building...

which is a problem if that building's
been rigged to explode.

At that point, you may have to choose
the small injury over the big one.

Whoa!

My arm!

Ow!

Somebody's shooting!

Nice shot, Fi.

You shot... You shot?

It was either shoot you
or bring flowers to your funeral, Buddy.

Hey, Fi, we can't leave a bomb here.

- Give me your shoe.
- You want one of my Brunos?

Give me your shoe.

Why you doing that?

- What are you looking for?
- He was here.

He was watching us.

And he got away.

Why the hell would one
of my guards be so interested in my sword?

That's a good question, Mr. Bocklage.

I looked into every one of our employees.

They all checked out. Even Deans.

You must not have looked very carefully.

His file was extremely suspicious.

We never gave you any personnel files.

I know. You made our job much harder.

We had to steal them
from your H.R. Department.

By the way, the woman that runs it...
I'm not sure she can hack it here.

Sir, I don't mean to speak out of turn...

but these people just admitted
to breaking and entering... twice.

They could've easily planted those photos.

You think we want to frame Deans?

We don't know you. You could've done...

Let's make this easy.

We'll show you how Deans
is going to steal the sword...

and you decide whether
you're going to trust us.

You know how he's gonna steal it?

We found I.R. Paint in his house.

What the hell is I.R. Paint?

There's a reason
why most thieves work at night.

Darkness makes it easier to commit crimes.

But darkness also makes it harder
to see where you're going...

when you're trying to escape.

Infrared paint is invisible in daylight...

but can be seen under a black light
or with the help of I.R. Goggles...

useful if you need to find an exit
in the pitch black.

- What in God's name is that?
- It's his escape route.

Deans is planning to cut the power,
swap the sword...

and follow this path out.

He'll head down this hallway...

and go out of the building
through that door.

You still think you can handle
this guy by yourself?

I'm gonna call the police.
Have this Deans arrested.

You could, but he'll walk.

The moment Deans has the real sword,
we've got him.

Until then, we don't have enough to convict,
not even on conspiracy.

This is a dangerous game
you want us to play...

Sitting by, letting this thief
lay hands on the sword.

It's less dangerous than it sounds.

We know exactly
when he's going to make the swap.

He wired a shutoff timer
to this room's power.

It's set for 8:00 tonight.

What if you took it off
and let the lights stay on?

If we change anything,
we risk spooking him.

When things go wrong,
this guy gets violent.

He hit a museum in Kyoto last year.
It didn't go so well.

He set off a bomb to escape.
The pictures aren't pretty.

Throw your party, Mr. Bocklage.

Leave the rest to us.
We'll worry about Deans.

We have someone tailing him now.

We'll know the moment
he enters the building.

Your 3:00 is waiting.

So Sam's going to watch Mr. Slippery?

I guess he'll have to.

I don't love the idea
of Jesse alone with Kendra.

He can handle it.

The Libyans.

- The Chinese.
- Go fish.

Come on.

Lady, seriously, aren't you bored?

Aw. Are you getting tired, honey?

Okay. If this was contract work,
someone had to hire you, right?

Now, we've been through
every terrorist organization on the map.

Was this a private group?

I'm sorry. I wasn't listening.

Let me explain something to you.
You don't have forever.

- Okay? You need to talk.
- Really?

You were put on a clock?

Okay. How about we make another trade?

Somebody looking to play
a little tit for tat again?

Come on. There's gotta be
something you want.

- I think the better question is
what do you want? - I want answers.

Please! This isn't a cause for you.

This is a paycheck,
and a small one at that.

What do you get paid for this deal?

Twenty-five? Thirty, tops?

What if I pay you 10 times that?

300 thou...

- For what? I mean...
- My freedom.

I can't have this conversation.
I'm not having this conversation.

I'm done talking.

You gotta ask yourself,
how do you want all this to end?

You can say no...

and we can sit here
until the sand runs out of your hourglass.

Or you can say yes, and I can put
a lot of money in your pocket...

and you can show me
the way out of this dump.

$300,000?

There's an art
to letting someone think they're corrupting you.

You can't be too eager or too reluctant.

You can't be too quick or too slow.

Most of all you have to sell
the guilt in the eyes...

that comes with betrayal.

Once they think they own you...

then you make your move.

I'll take that as a yes.

Yo.

Sammy boy. Got some good news.

That's my favorite flavor. Hit me.

Kendra's bribing me into letting her go.

I got an account number
and the name of a money manager.

No kidding. That's impressive.

Okay, I'll call Barry.
Get him to sniff around.

See if he can't track the money
back to whoever hired her.

Perfect. How's it going
with you and the case of the rusty sword?

All's quiet on the Slippery front.
Deans is laying low in his house.

I guess he's conserving energy
for the big event tonight.

Cool. Hey, let me ask you something.

Is it weird that I kind of miss you?

Well, you have been hanging out
with a homicidal psychopath...

but yeah, it's a little weird.

Thought maybe I'd do an accent
to really help sell this thing.

- What?
- You know, I could talk like this.

That there sword is the real McCoy.

No, no, no. No accent is better.
Just talk like yourself.

Okay, let's do this.

- Who's he?
- Our antiquities expert.

He's gonna make sure the sword is real.

Good afternoon. It's nice...

- Waiting on you.
- Oh, uh...

Speak up.

Oh, uh, sorry.

Uh... Yes. I-It's real.

Mr. Bocklage, you're on the installation.

Karen will set the perimeter...

so she'll see anyone leaving the building.

Then we'll stay out of sight
so Deans doesn't catch wind of us...

and stays on schedule.

Then we all just wait for 8:00.

Michael Westen. If you knew
you wanted me on perimeter duty...

why did you let me wear
my new party shoes?

They look stunning on you. Really.

This security thing is so boring.

Jesus, I wish I'd brought my gun.

What? What am I supposed to do
if this gets all crazy super-violent?

Find a corner. Hide.

Yeah, Sam?

- Yeah, Mike. You sure this Deans is our thief?
- Yeah. Why?

'Cause I just watched him
get blown sky-high.

Somebody wired his car.

Now he's hosting a neighborhood barbecue.

- Jesus.
- What's wrong?

We're chasing the wrong guy.
Deans is dead.

What are we gonna do now?

Get to the sword now.

Oh, God. That's the fake.

The onyx... That's the wrong shade, and...

Fi, has anyone left the building?

No. No one in nor out. Why?

The sword has been swapped.
Deans is dead. He wasn't Mr. Slippery.

- Oh, God!
- Fi, I gotta call you back.

- He's dead. He's dead.
- What the hell's going on in here?

- The thief has the sword.
- What?

But you told me it was definitely Deans.

I was wrong. It wasn't Deans.

Who was it? Why did he kill my guard?

- He must've caught the thief trying to swap...
- He's lying.

- He killed the guard.
- No! We found him.

- Where's your head of security?
- Sir, he switched the sword.

Listen to me. Listen to me.
The sword is still in the building.

- We have to lock it down.
- You're lying. Take him down, now!

Yes, sir. Come with us.

Come on, Buddy.

Get him! Stop him!

- Yes, sir.
- They're getting away!

Come on!

- Hey, stop!
- In here.

Hydraulic arms are safety features...

that slow the speed a door can close,
to minimize injury.

But wrap a belt around them...

and they can be turned into
an improvised lock.

- Yeah, Fi?
- Michael, what the hell happened?

Bocklage thinks we stole the sword.

Security's chasing us.

I heard the explosion. I'm coming in.

I need you on the front door.

Fire and Rescue's pulling people out.
One of them's gotta be our guy.

Move it! Let's go!

Okay. Who am I looking for?

Who did we miss? Is there another guard?

Fi. Are all the firefighters wearing air masks?

Yeah. I heard one say gas line blew.

They're taking precautions.

Why would this thief
set off an explosion now?

Jesus, that's how he's getting away.

Probably did the same thing
at the machine shop.

He's dressed as a firefighter.

You need to get out here.
I can't cover them all myself.

Working on it.

Lungs burning badly.

All right, we're getting out of here.

How? Second floor.

- What are you doing?
- Making an exit.

Are you serious? How are we gonna...

Keep your arms in. Land on your feet.

Tuck and roll.

It doesn't matter
if you're a spy or a civilian.

Falling isn't fun.

You can minimize injury
by absorbing shock with your knees...

and rolling as you hit the ground.

But the most important thing
you need to do is remain calm...

and accept that it's going to hurt.

Sir, you okay?

Tuck and roll?

- Tuck and roll?
- What do we got, Fi?

A lot of firefighters went in.
Only six have come out.

- You sure you're okay, ma'am?
- Yeah.

Help! Help!

Help!

Never mind, guys. Sorry. I'm fine.

Go, go, go!

- What was that secretary's name again?
- "S" something. Sandy, Sally...

Selena. It's her. She's the thief.

- Mr. Slippery is a woman?
- Jesus, she heard our whole plan.

Buddy, reach into the duffel bag
at your feet. Give me that rope.

- What are you doing?
- I'm going fishing.

- No, Michael. I love that bag.
- Sorry, Fi. I never did.

To stop a moving car, you can kill the engine...

kill the driver or kill the tires.

If you only have a small amount of explosives,
the tires are your target.

The trick is getting the charge
in the right place.

Get off of me! Get the hell off of me!

Oh, ho, ho.

That is quite an accessory, Selena.

Buddy, I'm gonna kill you.

I'm gonna...

I have to be honest.

I didn't see that one coming.

Mmm. There's Buddy's buddies.

How many of those have you had?

Join me. Come on.
You can borrow one of my suits.

And, Fiona, underwear, bikini...
What's the difference?

Yeah, maybe next time.

Mmm, maybe not.

Right now, why don't you just drink up
and be happy that it's all over?

- Yeah?
- Selena's gonna be denied bail.

Bocklage is pressing charges...
Grand theft, conspiracy and murder.

I guess he took that explosion
kind of personally, huh?

What about that Deans guy?

He was a local convict she was paying
to swap the sword for her.

And when she learned we were onto her,
she cut him off a little early.

- She's facing that charge too.
- I can't thank you guys enough.

I mean, I sleep easy now...

knowing that I've got a private platoon
of guerrilla warriors at the ready.

Let's try not needing a platoon
at the ready anytime soon, okay?

Oh, Fiona, wait a sec.

I almost forgot.

I did this one for you special.

Buddy Couture.

- It's the best fake I ever made.
- Thank you, Buddy.

If you guys ever need me for anything,
you know where to find me.

- This can't be right.
- It is, Mike. Barry checked.

Kendra's money went through six banks
and four holding companies...

- in five different countries?
- Yeah, and that's just what we could confirm.

Barry said there's no end in sight,
so we're not gonna be...

following the money
to Kendra's boss anytime soon.

Not many people would go
to this much trouble to remain anonymous.

People who start wars for profit might.

So if the money's a dead end,
what's Jesse planning?

We had Barry wave his magic wand...

and make it look like Kendra's
bank account was drained.

Paper trail starts out in the exact
opposite direction that the cash came in.

I wonder how she's gonna take it...

when she sees the folks
who sent her to Miami just ripped her off.

- Probably not well, huh?
- Oh, yeah.

This is appointment television, baby.

Yeah, wrap your head around it, honey.

Look, if you're confused, just admit it.

I'll repeat myself
as many times as you need me to.

- You can't be serious.
- Oh, I'm completely serious!

You see that right there?

You see it? That is a zero!

A zero, as in your account
has been zeroed out.

That's impossible.
Nobody even knew about this account!

Obviously the people that paid you did!

Think about it!

Whoever sent you to Miami must've
cleaned you out as soon as we grabbed you.

Probably figured you wouldn't
be needing it.

When you're interrogating
someone with nothing to lose...

you have to give them
another reason to talk.

If you're looking to motivate
someone who's cut off, alone...

and convinced they're going to die,
you can't beat revenge.

The son of a bitch doesn't get to just...

What are you gonna do
from that chair, Kendra?

Hmm?

What are you gonna do?

You already know that I came to Miami
to work a contract.

But there wasn't just one target.

I came to wrap up a big job.

- Go on.
- Kassar was just the first part.

There were three other names
on that tape drive...

All operatives hired to rob a bank...

A safety deposit box.

But they blew it. They got caught.
They proved themselves expendable.

Expendable to who? Who sent you?

If I knew his name,
I'd tell you, believe me.

But he kept it anonymous.

I don't even know what bank
they were trying to hit.

All I know is it went down
the fourth of last month.

You promise me one thing.

If this helps you
track down the man that hired me...

you make sure he knows
that I'm the one that ruined him.

Who's the predator and who's the prey
now, mama?

I guess it's time to track down
which bank they were trying to rob.

Find the bank, figure out
what they were trying to steal...

Might tell us a lot
about who's behind all this.

What do you want to do about her?

I faxed her prints to my
guy at the F.B.I.

She came back with warrants...

so I figured I'd just make an anonymous
donation to their bad guy collection.

I will get the duct tape.

Wait just a minute, Jesse.
First things first.

To the new guy... for putting
that hot slice of crazy in the rearview.

Mmm! Oh, man!

It's gonna be weird not hanging
out with her tomorrow, you know?

You could really use some more friends.

I'd work on that.