Burn Notice (2007–2013): Season 5, Episode 12 - Dead to Rights - 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.

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

Max! What happened?

- Who did this to you?
- I don't know.

- You say good-bye for me.
- Max!

Whoever did this managed
to put a murder weapon...

in Michael's hands and get away clean.

Our killer's in there.
We should go in now.

Mike, there's the guy.

We gotta find this guy, and the only thing
we got is a thoroughly toasted computer.

We gotta make it fast. I talked to Pearce.
She's investigating the warehouse fire.

You lied to me. You killed him!



I was framed.
He's Romanian. His name is Tavian.

Sam and Jesse are tracking him right now.

Just let me make one phone call...

Don't even think about it.

Come on, Mike. Pick up. Pick up.

- This is Michael. Leave a message.

- Damn it.
- He's still not answering?

Yeah. Fi said she was with him like 15
minutes ago. Something's not right.

Pull over up here. I want to take a peek
at Mike's loft before we get there.

Oh, son of a bitch. It's the feds.

I had a feeling. Take a look.

I guess Pearce finally caught up with us.

Looks like Mike's already in custody.

She's gonna be after us too.

I'm not ready to say this is over yet.
Are you?

- Well...
- What are you thinking?

I'm thinking that Pearce is taking Mike to a
federal holding facility downtown right now.

Now if we haul some serious ass, we can
stop 'em and try and change their minds.

Let's go. Push it!

Okay, I'm starting
to have second thoughts.

Are you... Come... This is your idea!

I'm serious. This car is Fi's baby.

- If we wreck it, she's gonna be pissed.
- Sam, you got a better plan?

- No.
- Me neither.

Stopping an armed convoy
is a tactical nightmare.

The easily accessible cars...
the ones in the lead and at the tail...

are the ones that don't matter.

- Which way you going? You going right?
- Left. We're going left.

The trick is getting into position
to target the key vehicle...

before anyone realizes what you're doing.

- Hey, whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!
- Got it.

- Sam, shut up.
- Pull up a little bit.

- Please shut up!
- There's no real safe way to do it.

Send the lead car into a tailspin
while inserting yourself in the convoy...

Do it!

And you can create
your own little roadblock.

- Move!
- Hands right here. Yup.

Yup, no need to shoot anybody.

Hey. Hey, look, uh, we're not armed.

- We just came here to talk.
- Oh. Well, you've got a funny way of saying hello.

Yeah. Hey, that's a good one. Listen.

The guy that killed Max
is on Brickell Key.

- His name is Tavian Khorza.
- Sounds like you boys got your stories straight.

- But it's just that. A story.
- Think we'd pull a stunt like that for fun?

We got Homeland Security to lock the
island down and trap the son of a bitch.

Pearce! Listen to me. Listen to me!

We know where this guy is right now.
We could take him down!

Just let me make one phone call
to set up the meeting.

- You owe me that much!
- I don't owe you a damn thing!

- You and your friends are done.
- What about Max?

What about Max's wife?
What do you owe them?

Look at me.

This is your last chance.

We miss this guy and he gets away...

will you be able to forgive yourself?

I know I won't.

Get them in the car. He... stays with me.

All right, get 'em in the car.

I guess we're going to Brickell Key.

- All right, what did Tavian say?
- He wants to meet.

He's holed up in a half-finished
parking garage six blocks from here.

How do you want to play this,
Agent Pearce?

I have a couple options.
The F.B. I. Wants to send a negotiator...

and I got a cowboy local sheriff ready
to send SWAT on a full-scale assault.

Tavian has a tactical advantage
and he travels heavy.

Any direct assault
will end up as a bloodbath.

As far as he knows, no one's onto him.

You send me in, I'll bring him out.

What, I give you a gun,
send you off by yourself?

You are seriously overestimating
my trust in you.

You send me in unarmed. I'll wear a mike.

You can have spotters in the area...

and a tactical unit
on the street watching me.

Okay, you're up.

But try anything, my teams won't just
watch you. They'll shoot you dead.

- We clear?
- Crystal clear.

- They got you too?
- Picked me up at the bridge.

I heard what was going on.
I asked if I could say good-bye in case...

Hey, an hour ago I was on my way to jail
for the rest of my life.

How much worse is this, really?

The man is ruthless.

He killed one of his own people to avoid
capture. You won't even have a gun.

The only way I'm gonna get out of this...

is if I get Tavian to talk.

I can't ask anyone else
to risk their life for this.

Michael, come back to me.

Come on.

Tavian!

If you're gonna shoot me...

get it over with.

Otherwise, let's talk.

Finally. I've been waiting for you.

It's been a busy morning.

Your man Sam said
you'd be here two hours ago.

Instead he has the police seal the island.

He doesn't know
who he chooses for an enemy.

You chose us.

You killed our friend
and tried to pin it on me.

Yeah, and it didn't stick, did it?

And when I came to kill you,
you wouldn't die.

So here we are.
You need me, and I need you.

Time to make a deal.

It's too late for that.

It's not just local police down there.

It's F.B.I., C.I.A.
They all know your name.

You think you're gonna
get outta this clean, you're wrong.

You son of a bitch.

You got a choice, Tavian.

You surrender peacefully,
you give us information...

I'll try to keep you out of Guant?namo.

But one way or another, this ends today.

Well, you're half right.

It does end... for me.

But not for you.

Tavian. Tavian. Tavian, no!

Pearce, look. I just wanna say...

You're free to go.

But don't even think about leaving Miami.

And when I call, you answer.
There might be more questions.

If I had told you the truth
from the beginning...

and you hadn't heard Tavian confess...

would you really have believed me?

Maybe. We'll never know.

Michael.

Mom.

Agent Pearce, this is my mother.

- Mom, this is... That was Agent Pearce.
- Well, that was rude.

- What are you doing here?
- I was in the neighborhood.

All right, I called, and they told me
you were being released today.

I thought Fi was picking me up.

Well, I want to talk to you alone...
and you need to hear this...

and Fiona and Jesse and Sam
are not gonna tell you.

Your friends crashed
into a C.I.A. Convoy for you.

Now you might want think about that.

Look, when you first came back to Miami,
you were alone.

God knows you hadn't talked to me in ages.

You had no friends. You lived by yourself.

But that isn't true anymore.

You have roots here now.

And when anything happens,
it affects all of us.

I know, but it's over now.

- Is it?
- I hope so.

Covert operative...

is one of the most
stressful jobs there is.

Like soldiers, E.R. Doctors
and astronauts...

spies have to schedule
extended downtime for decompression.

Carry that stress too long,
and it's easy to start missing details...

like a strange pair of shoes
under the crack of your door.

Welcome home, kid.

Oh! No gun, huh?

And I thought Boy Scouts
were always prepared.

Larry, I thought you were extradited
to an Albanian prison.

Oh, I was, but I guess I'm just not done
haunting you yet.

- How'd you get out?
- The usual. Money.

All my money, actually.
I'm down to the felt.

But there's a prison warden in Elbasan...

who's six feet lower than that,
so here I am.

Don't bother. The crate's empty.
I already got your backup gun.

I'll take your phone now.

- Why are you here, Larry?
- I got myself a freelance gig.

You're gonna help me break into
the British consulate right now.

That sounds like a fun way
to earn yourself a trip...

to a much more secure penitentiary.

Same old Michael. Always such a pessimist.

I've got this all worked out.

See, Michael, I brought along some help.

I brought along a very useful, uh...

Uh, kidnap guy? Kidnap vic... Kidnapee.

Say hello to Anson.

Let's talk inside, shall we?

Get him out.

Oh, I see you finally
got a woman's touch in here.

Or is it Fiona?

800 thread count sheets have their perks.

Flowers, I could take 'em or leave 'em.

So, Larry, how is this guy gonna help us
break into the British consulate?

Go ahead, Anson.
Explain why I cut your vacation short.

I'm a clinical psychiatrist
working for the D. I.A.

He is a government approved
headshrink for spies.

He doles out meds and happy talk...

for broken toys like you.

The point is, he has high-level clearance
across the board.

One of my patients is an American
working for the British.

My boss'll give us the access codes
if I say I'm worried there's been a leak.

Come on, Larry.
We need more than access codes.

What about building security? What about...

Don't ask me. Ask him. He's the expert.

Please, this can work. It has to.

He has my wife.

Ohh.

See for yourself, kid.

You see Claire's necklace?

That is my insurance policy.

You are gonna do what I say today.

And I say let's go!

Yeah. It's kind of intimidating, huh?

But we do this right, we go in there
like a hot knife through butter.

Hey, and you know how I like a hot knife.

3-5-5-6...

2-9-5-1. Thank you.

That's the front door, that's
the computer log-in and that's the vault.

- Please, just let Claire go.
- Patience, pal. Patience.

- If these are right, if they work...
- I think we have a problem.

- Excuse me!
- I don't know what game you think you're playing here...

- but believe me, Larry plays for keeps.
- What? I'm not playing a game.

Are you sure?
Because when I worked for the British...

their access codes were 13 digits.

These are only 12.
Are you trying to pull something?

I'm telling the truth, I swear.

Kid, seriously. What are you doing here?

Check the access codes online
with your phone. If it's right...

you'll be able to log on
to the basic site remotely.

Cut your way through the backseat.

No cops. Go to the Crest Hotel.
Ask for Sam Axe.

Well, well, well.

The codes work. Now who's gettin' cute?

I'm not the one getting cute.
I was burned for a while.

Maybe they changed the codes.
I just don't wanna die today, Lar.

Okay. Okay, you... In the trunk.

We'll be back in an hour.

Hey. Understand something, Michael.

You know, I've let you skate a few times
just because of old times' sake...

and I always
looked upon you like a son.

That ended when you sent me to prison.

Now you don't wanna get shot in the neck,
you do what I say.

And then you cross your fingers...

because Daddy is in one of those moods.

You wanna tell me why
we're breaking into the British consulate?

Are we doing a spec job?

- Are we stealing something specific?
- Stop saying "we."

There's me, the guy with the gun...

and there's you, the guy that does
whatever the hell I tell him to do.

This is not some soapbox derby.

Okay, but these biohazard symbols
on these boxes...

- are making me a little nervous.
- That's fascinating, Michael.

Feel free to keep me posted
on your feelings.

There are some things you're not
gonna get me to do, Larry, gun or no.

Okay, fine. It's just a cover I.D.

I'm the boss.
You're my slow-witted underling.

Oh, and by the way, lose that jacket.

It's just a little too fancy.

Okay. What's the job? Where do we work?

The second floor of that building...

is a C.D.C. Satellite office
where Larry Barishel...

was recently hired to test lab samples.

Brits are one floor up.

If Anson gave us the access codes,
why break in through the floor?

Because if we open
the front door of the consulate...

building security gets a heads-up.

So we're not opening
the front door of the consulate.

- What about...
- Oh, Jesus. You know what?

Kid, you're really starting
to piss the boss off.

And getting fired around here
is the real bitch.

Hey, how's it goin', guys?

Got a couple of samples to run here.

Well! Quiet Sunday, huh?

- You broke our streak.
- Yeah.

Those are good-lookin' boys.

Yeah, they take after their dad...
whoever he is.

Ho, ho! Nice.

All right. Have a good one.

Sorry. I need your I.D. Too, sir.

- Huh?
- Oh, no.

He's with me. Chris is with me.

It's not okay though,
'cause we gotta check the I.D.'s before...

But I don't get my I.D. Till Thursday...

'cause I didn't fill out
the paperwork right or something.

Yeah. This is what they stick me with.

Uh, it's... okay.

Just sign here,
and stop by on your way back to sign out.

- Right there.
- Okay.

That's good.

There we go.

Nice. Slow-witted suits you.

What up, Eduardo?

Sorry to make you come down, Mr. Axe.

I know noon to 3:30 is Sam's siesta time.

No, no, that's okay, buddy.
That's all right.

Who's this guy who wants to see me?

- Are you Sam Axe?
- Most of the time.

My name's Anson Fullerton. My...

My wife has been taken.
This lunatic strapped a bomb to her neck...

and then Mike... Michael Westen?

He said that you might be able...
that you would help.

Okay, slow down. One thing at a time.

- Where's Mike now?
- He's with this guy, uh, Larry.

- They went downtown.
- Stop talking.

Give me a second.

Fi. It's Sam. Hey, we got a problem.

Larry's back.

And who said I'd never get a day job?

Okay, open your box.

Inside you'll find
all the tools you need...

to hack your way up into that vent.

One flight up. Runs past a hallway...

connected to the consulate lobby...

and that's where
you'll be making us a doorway.

All right? Set yourself up.

Let me remind you of something, Michael.

In two hours, Anson's gonna have himself
a liquid bride... if this doesn't go well.

You got that?

Got it. Let's do this.

I like that attitude.

Now before we do
any of the heavy lifting...

I am gonna buy us a little privacy.

Follow my lead.

Hey, guys, is everything okay up there?

Some kind of warning light just came on.

There's just a little problem
with the container tank. It's not Ebola.

- Here's what we need to do.
- We call the police.

Tim, do you have the sheet with the C.D.C.
Instructions?

It is not Ebola.
It is just a class 2 spill.

The building is empty, right?

Yeah. You're the only visitors.
What do you mean, "class 2"?

Oh, damn it, damn it.

Look, we just can't
have people coming in and out of here.

You need to lock all the exits.
No phone calls.

And that is the emergency
response protocol that we will follow...

until hazmat gets here,
if it comes to that.

You're gonna be hearing a lot of noises,
a lot of banging.

That's us looking
for that leak. That's normal.

The most important thing is for you guys
to just keep your distance.

Okay? Let's go, let's go. Lock it up.

Come on, lock it up!

Oh, there's no way anybody's
gonna crash our party now.

Jesse, I need you
to get Maddy out of town.

- Larry's back.
- Larry? How the hell...

- What's Larry doing back in town?
- I don't know much...

but Maddy knows the drill.

The minute you say,
"It's a Disney World kind of day"...

she'll grab the shotgun and go.

Keep her mind off it, will ya?
Oh, she loves the teacups.

- Do you think Larry's gonna...
- Just breathe. Stay calm.

How am I supposed to stay calm?
My wife is...

Your wife is gonna be fine.
She's the only thing...

keeping Michael Westen from
snapping Larry's neck and he knows it.

So just calm down. Everything's gonna be...

Oh, my God.

Sam, I got here two minutes ago
and it was too late.

- Where's my wife? Where's Claire?
- I'm sorry.

No. You can't...
You said he wouldn't kill her!

- Anson, don't.
- Claire!

- Claire!
- Anson. Anson, you can't go over there.

- That's my wife.
- I'm sorry.

No!

No!

I don't get it.

I mean, Larry's a monster,
but that woman was his only leverage.

- Why kill her?
- It doesn't make any sense.

Anson, I know it's hard
to focus right now...

but the man who killed your wife...

he's gonna be out of the country
in a matter of hours if you don't help us.

How? What can I do?

You need to tell us everything
you know about what Larry is doing.

Where did he take Michael?

I gave him the, uh,
codes for the British consulate.

The access codes.

Sam?

Look, I don't want
to leave you here like this...

- but Sam and I have...
- No.

If you're going after the son of a bitch
that killed Claire, I'm coming with you.

I want to see him go down.
I want to see him dead.

Let's go.

Any idea what they feed you
in an Albanian prison?

- I don't know. Yogurt?
- I have no idea.

I ate it every day for eight months.

I still couldn't tell you what it was.

You fishing for an apology, Larry?

Gonna let me go if I say I'm sorry...

I didn't roll over
and let you ruin my life?

- Nah, I don't suppose so.
- Well, then let's do this.

Fine! Up you go.

I need a shield for the sparks.

Cardboard should do it.
I'll check the copy room.

Oh, and go call your friends?
No, I don't think so.

Get your ass up there and start cutting.

You'll be fine.

If anyone's used
to getting a little burned, it's you.

Level 3 contagion facilities
are designed...

with massive exhaust systems
to quickly remove harmful gases...

in case of an emergency.

They're just about the only type
of ventilation shaft...

a full-grown man can fit into...

so they can double as a vertical
passageway to the next floor up.

But you have to make your own exit.

Ma'am, I told you, I don't care
what kind of purse you left up there...

It's a Fendi, and it has
a very nice reward in it...

for the handsome guard who saves my life
by letting me go grab it.

No one's allowed in today, period.

- Believe me, I'm doing you a favor.
- But it...

Larry spooked those guards somehow.
The place is locked down tight.

Can't you warn the guards?
Won't they help?

If we send a couple
of rent-a-cops up there...

Hell, even if we send
a slew of real cops up there...

- this is gonna get bloody.
- So that's it?

- He gets away with it?
- He's not getting away with anything.

We just have to find
another way into the building.

My feeling exactly, Fi.
Look. Check this out. See that?

It's a freight access,
but it goes right inside the building...

and under the circumstances,
maybe we should just blast our way in.

Well, Sam, you're finally
speaking my language.

- What is that?
- It's a block of C-4.

- You should stand back.
- Anson, listen.

You're gonna stay here, okay?
This is gonna happen fast.

When that door gets opened, we only got
one shot to get up there and surprise him.

Michael, are you okay?

Oh, Michael is just fine.

At least for the moment.

What are you after, Larry?

You know, you are probably not
the first person...

I would tell that to,
so why don't you do me a favor...

and hold all your questions till forever?

I have something I want to explain.

I think you know by now,
I never wanted to kill Michael.

Touch him, you are dead.

That is pretty tough talk
coming from a tiny little psychopath...

in what are those, capri pants?

Where the hell is he?

Hello.

Hi, Sam. Oh, look at you.

I see Jenny Craig has done her magic.

Thinner, but not smarter.

- L...
- Larry, you got two choices...

Whatever you're after or your freedom.

You let Michael out of there...

you can watch us drive away.

You live to fight another day.
If you don't...

Shut up, you gasbag!

This is not a conversation.

This is me telling you...

that if you try anything,
I will see you coming...

and I will kill him.

Believe that.

You know what? He's bluffing.

Larry may be a murderous ghoul...

but he's always had a soft spot for Mike.

No. He said,
"I never wanted to kill Michael."

He's talking about something that
hasn't happened as if it were in the past.

That's never a good sign
coming from a sociopath.

What are you saying?

That no matter what we do he's gonna...

I'm so sorry.

Oh, you gotta love the Brits.

About as good at decorating a consulate as
they are at holding on to their colonies.

- Let's just do the job.
- A funny thing happened while you were up in that vent.

Our buddy Anson showed up
out front with Fi and Sam.

I warned you.

I told you not to test me...

and now you are gonna do
what I brought you here to do.

And what's that, Larry?

You're gonna plant a report
in a diplomatic pouch.

A few nice people are gonna rot in prison.

A few million dollars
lands in my bank account.

You know...

if you want to earn some money...

I can do it without you hurting
innocent people.

Stop the act, man. Stop it.

I know your holier-than-thou
Boy Scout routine by heart.

And you know what else I know?
I know something that nobody else knows.

You deserved to be burned.

Oh... Have we forgotten about Chechnya?

I didn't do anything in Chechnya.

Oh. Oh, is that what you tell yourself?

You stood there.

You watched it happen.

You let me kill those people.

And then you helped me cover it up.

Because that was the job!

Yeah! I did! I'm just like you, Larry!

Is that what you want?

You know what I want, Michael?

I want you to choose.

You're either a civilian,
or you're an operator.

And until you choose...

you're just pathetic.

Now clean yourself up. We got work to do.

Watch where you're bleedin', kid.

I'm gonna wipe the security cam so they
won't know who came through the wall...

but it won't do any good if you smear
your DNA all over their furniture.

Here.

Where are we planting this?

There's that "we" again.

All right, the outgoing
diplomatic pouch...

is in the vault right over there...

and access is remotely controlled
from this office right here.

Clever. It makes a break-in a two-man job.

So you go into the vault...

Oh, and wouldn't you love the chance to
have me trapped in an airtight cage?

No. You're going in.

Then you'll never know
for sure whether I planted the file.

You see these frown lines on my face?

See, I was not, in fact...

Born yesterday.

Come on. I wanna show you something.

I will be watching you the whole way.

Now you go in there. You put
the documents in the diplomatic pouch.

You log it into the computer.

You wait until I buzz you into the vault.

Then you switch the pouches,
and we go home.

- Got it?
- I got it.

Let's do this, huh? Oh, and Michael...

Stay outta trouble.

We do remember what happens when
you test me, right?

How could I forget?

Bingo.

Okay.

Bye-bye.

Before cell phones were invented...

it was much harder
to call out of an office...

without everyone else in the building
seeing that you were on the line.

Diplomatic spies in the '80s
devised an easy solution to the problem.

- A corded handset wired
to a fax machine...

Gives you the freedom to make calls...

Without showing a line in use.

If you can find a way to hide
from the security cameras...

you can call out without anyone knowing
what you're doing.

I am saying
we storm the building...

we take out the guards
with rubber bullets...

and we go after Larry with the real ones.

- Fiona...
- You are talking about an armed assault...

of a friendly government consulate, Fi!

- The British are far from friendly.
- I think that...

If you don't succeed
in getting Mike killed...

the three of us are gonna wind up
in prison for the rest of our lives.

Fiona, I think your phone is ringing.

Hello?

Fi, Larry knows you're outside.

You gotta forget
about the consulate and pull back.

If you can get to Anson's wife...

- get her out of that bomb collar.
- Michael, she's dead.

What? No.
No, no, no, no. Why would Larry...

Whatever Larry has planned
for you this time, it is not good.

- Can you run?
- No. He's got eyes all over this place.

We found that out the hard way.
What do you want us to do?

I don't know what you can do.

He'll see any move coming.
The windows are bulletproof.

Think I'm just gonna have to plant this
file in the vault like he wants...

and try to undo the damage if I survive.

Okay. Okay, great.

- Stay in the vault. Keep your head down.
- Fi, what are you talking about?

Good. And I'll handle everything else.

Fi, whatever you're planning,
you have to walk away.

You can't... Fi!

Whoo. Michael found us a way in.

- It's on the east side of the building.
- Okay. Now we're in business.

We're gonna need the Jaws of Life
to cut through the wall.

There's one on the fire station
in Brickell.

You two go get that,
and I'll keep watch here.

Fi, how's that supposed
to go down, exactly?

Look, there's no time to explain, okay?
Just go do it!

- Okay, okay.
- Everything'll be fine.

Uncut RDX...
sometimes known as T4 or cyclonite...

is the most powerful
military-grade high explosive there is.

It's an incredibly stable solid
that can withstand small-arms fire...

but when detonated expands faster
than a plasticized formulation like C-4.

Simply put, T4 is the good stuff...

a lethal explosive that creates a wall
of fire and shrapnel...

that will decimate
everything and everyone in its path.

Bye-bye.

Okay, kid, it's like we were never here.

Now let's make this snappy.

All right, swap out your file
for the one in Box 3-7-8-Baker.

What have we here?

You're gonna have
to walk out of there eventually.

I have always admired you, Fiona.

I mean, with Michael's smarts
and your stomach for violence...

I mean, hell, the two of you
could almost be me.

Oh!

Wow. Now what part didn't you hear, dear?

This is bulletproof.

Go get a.50-cal.
Then maybe you got a shot.

Now listen. I wanna do you a favor, Fiona.

Go home. Now. Seriously.

You're not gonna wanna see
the way this ends.

Oh, you're wrong, Larry.

I've always wanted to see how this ends.

What the hell? Michael... Oh, God!

Oh, Michael.

Oh, thank God.

Fi, why did you plant the bomb
in the lobby?

I didn't.

I made one targeted explosive,
just enough for Larry.

Somebody else must've...

The security guards...

They're dead.

Come on.

Fi!

I don't understand
why Larry had bombs in that lobby.

Or how my detonator
could have set them off.

Sam and Jesse are looking into it.

- They're trying to make sense of this.
- Make sense of it?

Two innocent people are dead.

You couldn't have known
what was going to happen, Fi.

Yeah, but I knew
how dangerous it could be.

That's why I lied to Sam.

When he found out what happened,
the look on his face...

No one's blaming you for this.

Well, they should.
It was my finger on that button.

I killed those men.

And... cut.

That was really, really great, you two.

The tears, the "I killed those men."

- Really, really lovely.
- How the hell'd you get in here?

I borrowed this from Fiona's purse
while she was consoling me.

Dropped a bug in there too,
while I was at it.

You might want to get rid of that.
I got what I need.

- What the hell is this?
- I like to call it leverage.

I hold your girlfriend's fate in my hands.

Here's the deal.

The tape... It's just icing.

I have you blowing up that building
six ways from Sunday...

and if you lay a hand on me,
there's a guy...

who sends a mountain of evidence
to the C.I.A. And MI6.

I've gone to a lot of trouble
to hold all the cards today...

and... that's where we are.

You were behind it all. Behind Larry.

Behind the consulate.

- Your wife?
- Larry didn't kill his wife.

You don't think
I'd actually blow up my wife?

Do you?

- Who was she?
- What kind of a question is that? I don't know.

I think her name was "some lady."

Hard part was pulling strings
to get Larry out of prison.

Couldn't let him know who I was
because I had to lead him here...

and to, well, me.

But Larry was worth it though.

Worth it. I saw his file.

That creepy father-son thing
you two had...

was just what the doctor ordered.

You took quite a big risk, Anson.
He could have killed you.

You still don't get it, do you?
I hired him.

I hired Larry.

He didn't know it, but I've been
pulling the strings all along.

No. There's no way you could have known
what would happen back there.

I couldn't? Honey, I really am a very good
psychiatrist, but I wouldn't need to be...

to know that nobody brings out
the mad bomber in you like Larry.

And a British flag sure wasn't gonna
stop you from killing him.

I just added a couple of bombs
to the equation.

Who the hell are you?

I'm the last one of 'em.

I'm the man who didn't want to be found...

the one you missed in Caracas.

After all these years?

- That's it?
- Hey. Hey.

That's it?

I'm the one who sent Tavian
to frame you for killing Max...

when you wouldn't leave well enough alone.

Stay with me, Max. Max.

And I'm the one who watched you...

tear down every last shred
of the organization that burned you.

The organization
I spent half my life building.

What do you want from us?

For starters, I want you to let go of me.

Right now.

That's better.

Next order of business, in your meeting
tomorrow with Agent Pearce...

I expect you to keep your mouth shut.

After that we'll talk about
all the other things I want from you.

It's a long list.

Yogurt parfait. Nice choice.

Max's murder is officially closed.

I'm supposed to tell you that your standing
with the Agency won't be affected.

And what exactly
is my standing with the Agency?

You have fans and you have detractors.

Let me guess which side you're on.

I do finally get to make the call
to Max's wife...

give that poor woman some closure.

I guess I have you to thank for that.

When you call her,
you tell her I was with him at the end.

He said he loved her. You tell her that.

You're a damn good agent, Pearce.

Maybe I shouldn't say this,
but I hope our paths cross again.

What?

Michael, Langley
wants to keep using a burned spy.

How many people you think they're
gonna loop in on something like that?

You're still gonna be my Agency contact.

Whether either of us likes it or not.

One quick thing before you go.

I don't know if you've noticed, but Miami
has turned into a bit of a hot spot.

Yeah, I heard about this. Are we on this?

No. Feds are running point.

- But keep an ear out, okay?
- Sure thing.

For a spy, finding out
you've been compromised...

that someone has something on you...

is the ultimate nightmare.

The worst part for someone who has spent
a career training for every situation...

is knowing that there is nothing
that you can do...

- - But grit your teeth
and try to figure out...

exactly how bad
the nightmare is going to be.

I watched you keep it short and sweet
with Agent Pearce today.

I appreciate that.
I need to know that I can trust you.

To do what? You know everything about us.
We don't know a thing about you.

It's true.

Once upon a time, I was just a young
psychiatrist working for the D. I.A.

It was my job to evaluate the ones
who were being reassigned...

who were retiring...

the ones who had been burned.

I hated to see that talent go to waste.

You were there in the beginning?

It was just me and management,
two guys with a dream.

It was a dazzling idea,
like a bolt from the blue.

Use burned spies to carry out ops...

that legitimate intelligence agencies
wouldn't touch.

And then came Michael Westen.
I should have followed my gut.

- Initially, I opposed your recruitment.
- What changed your mind?

Something your mother said
in one of our sessions.

Although, as it turns out...

you were less easy to manipulate
than she'd led me to believe.

- My mother? What?
- I did my homework.

I had to know what makes
Michael Westen tick.

So about five years ago, I arranged
to substitute for Madeline's therapist.

- She didn't know who she was talking to.
- You son of a bitch.

That's an interesting turn of phrase.

Funny how that was
on the tip of your tongue.

It's your father you should be upset with.

Things that man gave us
before he passed away...

What do you want from us?

Look at your boyfriend, honey.

He can barely hear a word I'm saying.

Well, that's all the time
we have for today.

Pick this up again in the morning.

Enjoy the sunset. Be getting dark soon.