Burn Notice (2007–2013): Season 4, Episode 9 - Center of the Storm - 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.

Let's go, man. You got it?

Classified data has been digitally encoded...

since before computers were invented.

Spies have used book ciphers
for centuries...

to send numeric correspondence that only
can be read when paired with the proper text.

Bibles make good codebooks
because of the variance...

between printed editions
and the numbering of chapter and verse.

So your search for the root of all evil
led you to rob a bank...

and you're rewarded with the Word of God.

- What is that... irony?
- It's a serious codebook is what it is.



- What do you think it pairs with?
- I don't know.

But I know somebody who does.

- Simon? Our Simon?
- "Did everything you were ever accused of...

and then tried to kill us and
blow up half of Miami" Simon?

- Yep.
- So the bad guys we're hunting...

took a break from global destruction...

to come to Miami to steal this book.

And it turns out
what they're really after...

are the secrets of a psycho
who's obsessed with you.

Yes. But you guys aren't seeing
the silver lining here.

Simon probably knows who they are.

Hey, Michael.
This glass, it's not half-full.

It's completely empty.

And this is trouble.

Okay. Well, you're probably
not gonna love this.

I'm trying to get
a face-to-face with Simon.

I've asked Vaughn
to come to town to talk about it.

I thought the weird feeling in the air
was just the calm before the storm.

No. It's a disturbance in the Force!

Look, Simon's locked away
in a secret prison.

Vaughn is the only one who can
put me in a room with him.

That makes him my teammate on this.

Why not let Vaughn grill Simon
about the Bible?

Or hell, just destroy the thing
and walk away.

Oh, no. He couldn't do that.
He has to see it through to the bitter end.

And it's not about Michael.
It's about saving all those innocent people.

I've heard your spiel enough times, I can
do the whole thing backwards if you want.

You just left out the part where,
if I walk away, Jesse got burned for nothing.

Well, I was mocking you.
I wasn't saying you were wrong.

Just wish me luck.

Stash that until Vaughn is gone.

Sure. Because we wouldn't want your
trusted new teammate to kill you for it!

- Here you go.
- What's this? You kicking us out?

Didn't you guys hear?
There's a hurricane coming.

Huh. Well, it's not
the worst thing headed this way.

Oh! About time.

Almost blew away out there.

This is some place you got here.

Sure we're safe riding out the storm here?

Stay away from the windows.
Then again, that's always good advice.

Thanks for coming.
I'm assuming you weren't followed.

No. I was... I was glad to come.
I hadn't heard from you in a while.

I didn't want to bother you
until I had a good reason.

What'd you find in that safe-deposit box?

An out-of-print family Bible.

Looks like the basis for a book code.

Used to belong to a guy you know. Simon?

Well, I guess with Simon,
you have to expect the unexpected.

I need to talk to him.
How soon can you make that happen?

Uh, here's what I prefer.

Why don't you give me that Bible,
and I'll get the answers we need.

You've had Simon for months.

If you could break him,
you would've done it by now.

That's a little ungenerous.

You haven't been quite as productive
as we were hoping either.

Maybe you need help.

You said that this was my investigation.

It is. But I'm sorry,
I'm not gonna put our biggest enemy...

in the same room as our most valued asset.

So you're going back on your word?

But-But... But it's because
you're looking out for me.

Simon is dangerous.

I risked my life!

I got a man burned!

And I've caught an endless wave
of grief about it!

Now I'm losing my patience.

I'm asking a simple favor.
And before you say no...

you need to remember
that I'm pretty dangerous too.

This is me saying no.

Time to go.

You're taking this personally, Michael.
You're not thinking straight.

Are you putting me out?

There are bigger storms coming, Michael.
And I'm gonna remember this.

- Ooh.
- Careful, Jesse!

How many windows are you gonna break?

These boards gotta come down somehow.
I'm doing a job here, lady.

Hurricane Jesse here is doing more damage
with a crowbar than Hurricane Dana did.

- He's worse than Sam.
- Mom, what are you doing here?

I thought you were supposed
to be up in Jacksonville.

I told you what you needed to hear.

I knew we were just gonna get hit by feeder bands.

Jesse and I stayed and rode it out.

- Right, Jesse?
- Yeah.

She waited until after I loaded her car
to tell me that was her plan.

They evacuated the whole neighborhood.

What if the house began to flood?

Oh, please. I've lived
my entire life in Miami.

Fifty-nine years I've been
watching these things.

I know when they're gonna cream us...

and when they're gonna swoop northward
and cream somebody else.

So, any luck finding out
who Simon Escher is?

I've been running the name
by all my friends. No luck yet.

Maybe it's time to tell
the world we got this Bible...

you know, see who comes
out of the woodwork.

In my experience, the types of people
who hide in woodwork...

usually carry automatic weapons.

Let's leave 'em there.

I have a few more friends
who are getting back to me.

We don't hear anything in the next couple
days, I say we start making some waves.

Are you home, Michael?

There are two F.B.I. Agents here to see you.
They say they're your friends.

Hi, "friends."

Hey, Westen.
Sorry to drop in like this, but...

We need your help with something...
off the books.

Last time I asked
for your help...

you both laughed in my face.

Hear us out, will you? Guy like you...

might need a favor from the F.B.I. Someday.

I'm listening.

You're looking at James Bailey.

He runs a nonprofit
for marine preservation.

And he's a blood donor,
supports public radio...

- I get it. He's a good guy.
- A really good guy.

And he's wanted dead
by a Turkish syndicate.

He witnessed a murder they pulled.
He's taking the stand next week.

Harris and I were prepping
his testimony with him.

I'm guessing we're coming up to the part...

where you got shot in the arm?

A hitter for the Turks
found the safe house we were working at...

right before the storm hit...

opened up on us with a modified Saiga-12K.

Bailey took off like a bat out of hell.
We don't know where he is.

Let's back up.

You got ambushed...

by someone carrying
a fully automatic shotgun...

and all you ended up with
was a scratch on your arm?

Maybe the guy thought dropping
two feds was a dumb thing to do.

Maybe he's a hit man with a heart of gold.

You're missing the point.

Then stop bleeding all over
my mom's table and get to it.

Look, these Turks, they're into drugs,
human smuggling, murder... you name it.

Bailey's testimony could cut the head off
their organization, and they know it.

- They want him dead.
- The guy's spooked.

He's in the wind, and he's
gonna try to stay that way.

Now, we'd find him ourselves,
but we're due back at H.Q.

We're looking at suspension... or worse.

How would you find him
if you weren't busy getting suspended?

Lady pulling her patio furniture in...

saw Bailey steal a black Toyota pickup
a few miles from the safe house.

That's the license plate number.
Only lead we've got.

What about the gun?

A black pickup isn't as rare
as a modified Saiga-12K.

You want to find Bailey,
find the guy trying to kill him.

Tracking the gun
might put us on his trail.

Did you say "us"?

I'll look into the gun,
see if I can point you towards the hitter.

And you will owe me.

Fi? Fi.

Just how much sushi-grade yellowtail
has to be ruined by a power outage...

before I can file an insurance claim?

Fi, that is such a good question.

Listen, if I was looking to buy
a modified Saiga-12K, who would I talk to?

Oh, Michael, that's so thoughtful of you.

But it's not my birthday for months.

- Is this about a job?
- Kind of.

- Do you know anything about the weapon?
- Maybe.

There's this guy Pano.
He's a nasty piece of work.

He has a rep for specialized shotguns.

He deals out of
a custom body shop in Kendall.

Does this mean you're not
gonna help me clean up?

I'm sorry. I have to deal
with this situation first.

This better not be an errand for Vaughn.

No, no, no.
It's a favor for the, uh, F.B.I.

Mike, how long you figure
this is gonna take?

Now that Dana's passed, I got a little
hurricane named Michelle waiting on me.

Just need to put Harris and Lane
on the right track.

- Then you can go...
- Hunker down?

Deputy Finley,
Miami-Dade sheriff's department.

I don't know if you saw, but the storm did
some damage to the back of your shop.

You got a gas line cut.
You're sitting on a powder keg.

We're gonna have to open everything up,
get you out here...

What the hell you talkin' about?

Uh-uh! Don't be doing that, chubs.

- You Pano?
- Who?

- Uh-oh.
- Yep, you're Pano.

Who's asking?

A guy who almost got his head
blown off this morning.

Got visited by a hitter who had a modified
Saiga-12K, just like this one.

- And you sold it to him.
- I have no idea what you're talking about.

No!

Sorry, girl.

Don't make me shoot
that sweet ride over there.

Five seconds. You know the guy
who shot at me. Where is he?

A young guy came in last week.
He wanted a clean Saiga with a 20-round drop.

His name was Cal or... Cole!
That's all I know.

Oh, man. It's like shooting
a beautiful songbird really.

What? What do you want?

- I asked you where can I find this guy.
- I don't know!

Wait! Just wait!

He told me to drop the gun
in a Dumpster...

behind the Gold Coast Apartments
in North Miami.

That's really all I know!

This guy Cole probably didn't want
to drive all over town with a hot gun.

I'll bet he lives there.

You think we can trust these two guys
to keep their mouths shut?

Uh, no.

Come on, dude. Seriously?

It's gonna smell like chicken in there,
but I don't want you two to get hungry.

Come on, seriously. I'm claustrophobic!

Don't worry. We'll have the real
sheriff's department come and collect you...

just as soon as they're done
cleaning up the storm mess.

Michael?

That was quick.

- Fiona? It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm...
- I know who you are.

You can put the gun away.

I'm only packing lunch from Adrian's.
That is your favorite bistro?

Well, I have a strict "no soliciting" policy.

I'm not selling Girl Scout cookies.
I just came to talk.

- About?
- Jesse Porter.

It's gross out here, Mikey.

I'm a good friend, a very good friend.

- Anybody home?
- Yeah.

Just the cute little
apartment-complex manager lady.

She offered to give me some fresh socks.

So I tell you,
I got the mojo going today, brother.

- I meant...
- Yeah. I know, I know.

But my gal said
there's a tenant of hers... 219.

He matches the shooter's description.

But she said that he evacuated first.
She hasn't seen him since the storm.

He comes back, give me a heads-up.

Hey, hey, hey. Looks like the storm
took out the cell towers.

If he comes by, I'll just honk the horn.

Hit men, like most career criminals...

know the advantages of renting
a cheap, furnished apartment.

You can pay in cash,
remain completely anonymous...

and you can usually get free cable.

The downside is it doesn't
include top-notch security...

which can be a problem...

unless you make your own line of defense.

A trained operative
can tell a lot about a bomb maker...

by the way they construct their device.

A directional explosive
wired to a pressure-sensitive trigger...

that's easy to activate, difficult to disarm...

and only deadly to the person
standing in front of it...

means you're probably
dealing with an expert.

This is awkward.

You recognize a claymore when you see one.

I'd appreciate it if you toss me your gun.

If you don't concentrate
holding that line just so...

I won't get my security deposit back.

So you're Matt Reese, huh?

Come on, man.

I know the Turks
put two hitters on this job.

I heard you were one of their favorites.

Yeah, you got me.

Turks love me. Ladies love me.
Matt Reese.

You come here to steal my info
or take out the competition?

No, no. I just thought we should talk.

Is that why you knocked
before you came in?

Give you credit. Most people, they'd be
a bloodstain on my carpet right now.

You made a mistake coming in here.

- You'll never find Bailey without my help.
- Yeah, I will.

You're trying to triangulate his location.
You got a cell signal, right?

I got more than that.

Friend at the phone company
put me on his line.

I heard him talking to his girl.
Bailey's hiding at her place.

If you knew where she lived...

you wouldn't be here right now.

Bailey's smart. By the time
the cell towers get back to normal...

he'll be long gone
unless I help you find him.

Keep going. You're fun to listen to.

Just get me close enough.

Just put me in his neighborhood.
I'll tell you where he is.

You trying to tell me you have
a tremendous sense of smell?

I got a source in the Bureau.
I know what kind of car he's driving.

Wow.

That was some mighty fine tap dancing,
right up until the end there.

You lost me with the F.B.I. Mole.

Where do you want this... head or chest?

How else would I know
that you spared the lives...

of two federal agents
sitting on Bailey's safe house in Doral...

or that you shot the tall one
in the right arm?

Damn, son. You're for real.

I am Matt Reese.

So what do you say... partners?

Let's not get ahead of ourselves, bud.

I'm still the one with the gun.
Let's go.

In the field, circumstances
can change as fast as the weather.

Salvaging a mission depends on
your ability to change tactics...

and communicate plan "B" to your own team.

- Where are they?
- Who?

I heard you work with a team.
Tell them to come say hi.

Mike, what the hell?

Well, if they were here, don't you think
they would've made a move by now?

It's just you and me on this one.

- You're driving.
- Where are we going?

Heading east. What kind of car
did you say Bailey's driving?

I didn't. Nice try though.

I like to keep things to myself
until we're better friends.

That might be a long wait.

If you need your team to stand by a radio...

rather than come charging in...

you'd better send a clear message.

I get it, Mikey.

Before I forget.

Right hand gets tied to the steering wheel.
Now get in.

You're missing out here.

This is the best ropa vieja
outside of Castro's private kitchen.

You have something to say about Jesse?

Did I do something
to make you upset with me?

Well, you ruined Michael's life and his career,
came after his family...

damn near got him killed
too many times to count.

So forgive me if looking at you
makes me lose my appetite.

Look, all that unpleasantness happened
long before I came into the picture.

I've been nothing but a friend to Michael.

Does he know you're here?

That's what I thought.

You see, Michael wants to believe
that you're different.

But I know nothing has changed.

It's the same old tune you bastards
have been playing since day one.

"Do what we want, or die."

You just sing it a little differently.

It's a shame we don't see eye-to-eye.

But that doesn't mean we can't make
a deal. I need Simon's Bible.

And I'm betting
that you can get it for me.

- In exchange...
- I would never.

In exchange, I'm prepared
to offer Jesse his job back...

his life back.

Now we can see to it
that he's reinstated...

and never the wiser
about who got him burned.

Is this some kind of joke?

I say the word and Jesse's back in.

And all you have to do
is deliver the book...

and make sure that Michael
keeps me in the loop from now on.

No, I can't betray Michael.

Betray him? You'll be doing him a favor.

What do you think happens
if I put Simon and Michael together?

You know how willing Michael is
to let the wrong voices get in his head.

You don't want to see Michael
become that kind of monster.

He would never let that happen.
I would never let that happen.

It's happening already, darling.

Michael is an addict.

He can't resist this life
even though he knows how it's gonna end.

You can help him here.

This is the right thing
for Michael and for Jesse...

I mean, if you really care about 'em.

Let me know when and where
you want to deliver the Bible.

And I'll make sure
this stays just between us.

Taking control of a situation...

isn't always about
having the tactical advantage.

- So where are we headed?
- Don't worry. I'll tell you when to turn.

If you can convince your enemy
to want the very thing you need...

it's as good
as calling the shots yourself.

And if what you need is a two-way radio...

you'd better steer the conversation
in that direction.

You know, this isn't a Sunday drive
through the countryside.

There's road closures, downed trees.

It would help if I knew
exactly where we were going.

For now, let's just say Miami Beach.

- Now, what kind of car are we looking for?
- An emergency vehicle.

- Bailey's driving an ambulance?
- No. But we should be.

Nobody's allowed east
of the Intracoastal Waterway.

I don't want any problems
with law enforcement, and neither do you.

Stealing an emergency vehicle to blend in...
sounds like an unnecessary risk.

So does driving into an evac zone
filled with cops.

They'll be looking for looters,
questioning every citizen.

And I'm a big fan of Corinthian leather...

but we go down the wrong street
in this car, we're gonna be needing oars.

So, what? You want to carjack
the first fire truck we see?

There's a city vehicle storage yard
two miles north.

Plenty to choose from.

Let's make it quick.

Big Chuck here. Mike, you copy?

Mikey, come on.

Well, well.

Thought you guys were both
at H.Q. Getting fired.

Suspended, pending review.

We can't get through to Westen,
and we need an update on the shooter.

He found him, all right.

- What do you mean? Where are they?
- That I can't tell you.

Our jobs are on the line
and we're stuck on the sideline, Sam.

I'm not in the mood for games.

Look, we found the guy's house.

Mike went in. And when he came out,
your shooter had a gun on him.

I'm waiting for some information myself.

How about you guys? What's your progress?

We found the truck...
abandoned, no sign of Bailey.

- Sorry, Sam. We were hoping Westen had better news.
- Yeah.

Chuck. Charles Finley, go to channel 13.

Big Chuck here. Hey.
Good to hear your voice, brother.

You too, Sam. I only got a few seconds here,
and we need to be quick.

Cole thinks I'm a guy named Reese.
The Turks sent out a second hitter.

Westen, this is Harris. If he's talking
about Matt Reese, that's bad news.

Guy's a suspect in half a dozen hits...

but we don't have so much
as a description on the guy.

One problem at a time.
The only reason I'm still alive...

is because Cole thinks
I can help him find Bailey.

Now Cole said he's hiding
at his girlfriend's.

What do you know about her?

- Nothing. Bailey said he was single.
- Apparently not.

Cole traced their cell calls to a neighborhood,
so now he's gotta hunt for the house.

I'm supposed to fill in the blanks
by spotting Bailey's car.

- So how's that A.P.B. Coming?
- Bad news, Mike.

They found the truck already.
It's a dead end.

If I can't point out the house
when we get to that neighborhood...

I get it, Mike.

Is there any chance
of turning the tables on Cole?

I'll try, but for now,
I need a way to find Bailey.

Find out anything you can on his girlfriend
and where she lives, and do it fast.

What the hell's taking so long?
You need some encouragement?

You try hot-wiring an ignition
with one hand tied to a steering wheel.

- I'm going as fast as I can.
- You got one minute.

- Okay. What's Bailey's address?
- It's on Second and the river.

But the roads around here are flooded.
There's not enough time for you...

You're right. I know. You're right.

I know who's gonna help.

Madeline? Maddy, you copy?

Sam, is that you? If it is, stop yelling.

And use my C.B. Handle... Smokin' Mama.

Okay, Smokin' Mama. Is Jesse there?

- Yeah, he's here.
- What's going on, Sam?

Mike's in a bit of a bind.

How fast can you pick up Fi
and get over to Second Avenue?

What kind of bind we talkin' about?

I did my part. Waiting on you.

Cole! Get out of the water!

If slipping your restraints is impossible...

removing what you're tied to
is the next best thing.

Air bags deploy with enough force
to shatter windshields, break your nose...

or loosen the center bolt
on a steering column.

After that...

removing the steering wheel just takes
a little leverage.

Reese! What the hell are you doing?

Hurry up!

You can stand on the top of that car
for the rest of the day...

or you can throw me the gun.

Forget it. I'll just...

You were saying?

Now neither of us has a gun.
That's what you wanted, right?

Something like that.

If you need
to convince an enemy to work with you...

it's a good idea to offer
a token of friendship.

But make sure they know
it comes with a price.

Nice try.

Looks like we need a new ride.

You try something like that again,
you eat a bullet.

Twenty minutes to go six miles?

You're lucky James Bailey
doesn't live in Boca!

- The road was slippery, Maddy.
- Next hurricane, I drive.

I'm beginning to wish
I left you back at the house.

Oh, I'm sorry. I can be such a pill...

when my son is driving around
at gunpoint with a hit man.

Michael's gonna be fine.

Just tell me what we're looking for.

Michael told the killer he knew how
to find Bailey's girlfriend's house.

So we need to find a bill, a letter...
anything with her address on it.

Just go check the closets, drawers,
you know, under the bed.

I raised two boys, Jesse.
I know how to search a house.

I miss my old job.

Let's go, ace. Work that magic.

I'd work faster if you untie me.

If you want Bailey, every second counts.

Then stop talking and get to work.

What, saving your life didn't
buy me some hands-free time?

You talkin' about right before,
when you tried to knock me out cold?

Appreciate the fact
you're still breathing.

I thought marines were all about teamwork.

Bomb disposal unit, right?

I know that tattoo. I was Special Forces.

If the corps taught me anything,
it's not to trust no one.

Usually only career marines
get a moto tat like that.

You should be clearing roads in Iraq,
not hunting F.B.I. Witnesses in Miami.

Yeah?

Tell that to my squad mates who spent
their tours shipping drugs to the States.

Better yet, tell that to the panel that sent me
packing with a dishonorable discharge.

Did I know about it? No.

Did my superiors care? No.

So you go from defending your country
to doing somebody else's dirty work.

And now you're killing innocent witnesses.

Look, I'm just doing this long enough
so I can get myself a boat...

and float away to some island
where no one knows who I am.

Too bad it doesn't usually work that way.

Knowing when to walk away
is harder than you think.

And if you're already
daydreaming about retirement...

you're not cut out for this kind of work.

You better walk away
while you still have other options.

Just tell me where the neighborhood is.

Don't pretend you know who I am
'cause you saw an old tattoo.

Just start the damn truck.

You think this guy would've
sent his woman some flowers...

or a damn cookie bouquet or something.

- Cookie bouquet?
- I found these in a drawer.

Look. Look at the date.
Bailey's girlfriend's pregnant.

Well, no wonder he ran to her.

- Here we go.
- House have a number on it?

Not that I can see,
but maybe a description's enough.

Michael's life is at stake
and all we have is a picture of a house?

You said Miami Beach, right?
That's where we're headed?

Maybe.

- The hell do you think you're doing?
- If we're going to Miami Beach...

I need to check to see
if the causeway is passable.

We'll find out when we get there.

If it's closed, we lose
an hour we can't afford.

Why not save ourselves the trouble?

'Cause I can't be sure
you're not calling for backup.

You think I have supernatural power
over truckers...

that I can summon them to my aid
when I'm in danger?

They know the roads, Cole.

I'm gonna ask a question. That's it.

Anyone who ever passed a note in class...

knows there can be serious consequences
to sending messages...

in front of your enemies.

Breaker 1-9.
Free mojito for anyone who can tell me...

if the Venetian Causeway is passable.

When communication lines aren't secure...

and you don't want to tip that you're
relaying sensitive information...

you better disguise your message.

Yeah. This is Mr. Vane talking at ya.

The causeway is clear, but you
should see what my house looks like.

Yeah, Big Chuck here.

"Mr. Vane"? What kind of a handle's that?
Come back.

It's unfair really. It's not my fault.

I know I'm good-looking...
gray hair and all.

People say I look presidential.

Wow. 10-4, good buddy.

Is there any more information
you can give me on the roads?

Nah, buddy. That's it.

I owe you a mojito. Thanks, fellas.

I'm not really gonna
buy those guys a mojito.

I just hope Michael
picked up on that message.

"Weather vane" seems easy enough.
"Gray hair" means a gray roof.

And "presidential" means
he should be looking for a white house.

Right?

Pull over right here.

What's going on?

No more questions. No more secrets.

We're not going another block
until you tell me what car Bailey's driving.

That wasn't the deal.

Guy with the gun
is asking for information.

Don't think about lying.
You're coming with me until I see it.

Tell me the truth... you go free.
It's not there... bang.

- I don't know what he's driving.
- Son of a bitch.

I know what the house looks like.
That's all I ever had.

I was hoping to get away
before it got this far.

That was a risky bet! Time to pay up.

Bailey's girlfriend lives in a white house
with a gray roof and a weather vane.

You can trust me.

I don't have to.

We'll find out if you're lying right now.

Turn into the garage and take us
up to the roof. We're here.

You're sure we'll be able
to see the house from here?

This is the neighborhood.

If you can't see the house,
your intel's bad.

Which would be a shame,
'cause I'd hate to waste a bullet on you...

after all we've been through together.

Are you holding out on me?

I'll just wait up here
until Bailey pokes his head out.

It'll take a little longer, but...

There. That one.

The storm nearly ripped off the weather vane,
but that's the house.

What the hell?

Our new friends over there
have got me thinking.

- About getting off this roof?
- About who they are.

Gunmen in the same neighborhood
as Bailey?

They probably tracked him
the same way I did.

Great minds think alike, I guess, huh?

I'd try to take out the competition too.

I don't see how this is helping.

Well, it begs the question...
Who the hell are you?

You know who I am.

Hey, Reese! We can make a deal, man!

Sorry, rook! I got my team!

I know who you're not!

Parking garages
are designed with tight corners...

to prevent traveling at high speeds.

Which is why if you're making
an escape in a parking garage...

You're better off on foot
than in a heavy vehicle.

James Bailey!

In the heat of battle,
making your alliances known...

- Bailey, open the door!
- can be a challenge.

Get inside!

You have to make sure
your actions speak louder than words.

Oh, my God! James!

- Get in the kitchen now!
- What do you want?

Don't worry. I'm a friend!

- What do you want?
- Who the hell are you?

I'm Michael Westen.
I'm here to save you people.

Who the hell are you?

I'm Michael Westen!
I'm here to save these people!

So that whole "ruthless killer" bit
was just an act?

Pretty convincing.

Walk away, Cole,
before this gets any worse.

I leave when Bailey's dead!

I can put your name on the list too,
if you want.

It doesn't have to be this way.

I know who you are.
You're not a killer.

There's a couple people six feet under
that would disagree with that.

I saw the claymore in your apartment...

rigged to an interior door...

so there's no chance
of a passerby getting hurt if it blows.

I like controlled environments.

What about the F.B.I. Agents
you had pinned down and out-gunned?

Why didn't you finish them off?

Bailey was already gone.
He was my target.

- He is my target.
- He doesn't have to be.

Move!

Hey, Cole!

I hear you're new in town,
so I'm gonna cut you a deal.

Come on, Cole! Be smart about this!

I'm gonna give you two minutes
to come out clean, and I'll let you walk.

We only want the witness.

You hear that?

Bailey's dead no matter what!

- Shoot him.
- Shh!

We all are if we don't work together.

It's a stupid move.

Not if you're the man I think you are.

Cole, you were a bomb tech in Iraq,
right?

Defusing I.E.D.'s?

You were putting your ass on the line
every day for people you didn't even know.

I can't be that guy again.

If that were true, I'd be dead right now.

You got a plan, Michael?

'Cause we've got about three bullets
left between the two of us.

Then it's probably not a good idea
to turn this into a shoot-out.

James, where are your cleaning supplies?

You can't have an explosion
without plenty of heat and pressure.

Ruining an air conditioner by removing the
safety sensor and pinching the cooling coil...

is a good way to generate both.

Add some flammable household cleaner
to the condensation pan...

and your A. C. Unit will pump out
fire instead of cold air.

You're running out of time, Cole!

Why are we doing this?
We gotta get outta here.

Take her to the back room. Keep your heads
down until the shooting stops. Go!

You'll only get one shot.

You get 'em in the alley.
I'll make it count.

SWAT teams
call hallways and alleys "fatal funnels."

Any place that's narrow
and offers no cover...

is the last place you want to be
when the bullets start flying.

Thank you, Michael.

Looks like I'm gonna be able
to collect the fee on this job after all.

You gotta be kidding me.

Yeah, I am.

Guess you were right about me.

You know, I hear Antigua's
really nice this time of year.

Maybe you could find that beach
you were looking for.

Looks like you're gonna
need some of these.

Leave the lamps there, boys.

News just said that Tropical Storm Edgar
could make landfall by Tuesday.

You're kidding me.
We gotta go through the whole alphabet?

Just promise me the next time
an evacuation is called, you'll really go.

Excuse me.

If I had taken off for Jacksonville
like those other Chicken Littles...

who would've found the photograph
that saved your skinny butt?

Fair enough.

Oh, look, it's your friends.

I want to give those two morons
a piece of my mind.

Mom, please. Do you mind?

I don't want them in my housel

You know, the phones are working again.

You had a hell of a day, Westen.

Bailey's secure and ready to testify.

Minute he hits the stand,
the Turks are done.

Matt Reese and his guys are in custody.

Has the F.B.I. Made sense of the whole scene
at the girlfriend's house?

Uh...

Oh. The Bureau thinks you two wrapped
this whole thing up neatly, don't they?

Can't really say we owe it
all to a burned spy.

I suppose we could scratch our names
off our commendations...

send 'em your way if you'd like.

Save 'em. They make great paperweights.

I'm just surprised you guys
didn't get promotions.

Well, we might have
if Cole hadn't gotten away.

Yeah, sorry about that.

- Well, we owe you one, Westen.
- I'll never forget it.

Yeah, we know.

Michael.

And you come bearing food.

Maybe you and Vaughn
have more in common than I thought.

Vaughn.

He came to see me yesterday.

He brought Cuban.

You win.

Vaughn was here.

- What did he want?
- He made me an offer.

He wanted the Bible. And in return,
he promised Jesse his life back...

the life he had before you got him burned.

- Fi?
- But I didn't take Vaughn up on his offer.

I have faith in you, Michael.

I may hate who you're associating with...

but I have to believe...

We see this investigation through,
we bring these people down...

it should be enough to get Jesse back in.

I hope so.

But you and Vaughn are at odds,
and now Simon is involved.

I don't know.

When this is over
and the dust has settled...

I don't want to wonder
if I gave this to the wrong man.

You didn't, Fi.

I'm supposed to meet Vaughn
this afternoon.

Could you please tell him
that I couldn't make it...

and that he might have better luck next time
if he brings me fresh yellowtail.

Little early for a cocktail.

Vaughn, right?

- Who's asking?
- Federal Bureau of Investigation.

This is Agent Harris. I'm Agent Lane.

And this could be you...
public enemy number one.

Number two actually. But that's still
high enough to make our weekly podcast.

Every cop, sheriff's deputy and meter maid
in the country will be up your ass...

unless you do
exactly what our friend wants.

We're even, Westen.

Not quite, but it's a start.

My very own guys in black suits.
Pretty scary, huh?

I could had them killed. You too.

You pay Fiona another visit,
you'll need to.

So when do I get to talk to Simon?

You want him, you got him.
I'll set up a meeting for you.

But know this,
I was trying to protect you.

Right. Because you're my buddy.

Understand something, Michael.

You can't dig inside Simon's head
without letting him into yours.

And I'm not sure you're ready for that.

I guess we'll find out.