The Blacklist (2013–…): Season 6, Episode 13 - Episode #6.13 - full transcript
- Fabricio?
- Yes, sir?
Than the one next door.
They need help in the back room.
More servers. At least one. Maybe two.
- Yes, sir, Mr. Reddington.
- And, also, let's open
another couple of cases of the Reserva.
And, please, tell Amelia
to keep the drinks flowing.
Champagne, the wines, cocktails.
I don't care if they're drinking milk...
I don't want an empty glass out there.
Of course, Mr. Reddington.
And, Mr. Reddington,
it's good to have you back, sir.
Oh, it's good to be had.
Nolan! You made it!
- Thank you for coming.
- Wouldn't miss it for the world.
Wonderful party, Red.
Not nearly as wonderful
as your daughter's
beautiful wedding in Berlin.
My head's still throbbing.
Vivian, where's your husband?
- He couldn't make it.
- Thank goodness.
Find me later. We have some...
catching up to do.
- Red! Hey! Red!
- Teddy!
I can't hear a damn thing
with all this music!
It's much quieter on the veranda.
Miranda's in the toilet!
The balcony. It's much quieter outside.
Forget it! I'll be out on the veranda!
I can't hear a word you're sayin'!
Oh. Uh, Mr. Reddington.
Hey. Help me out. I'm looking
for a girl on the wait staff.
A brunette with a nose ring?
- Sidney.
- Yeah, Sidney.
- Think you could introduce me to Sidney?
- Funny thing, that.
She asked me to introduce her to you.
- Oh.
- Heddie!
Would you be a dear and introduce Vontae
to your young waitress friend?
Oh, my God. Will you come with
me and meet this girl already?
She has been making
eyes at you all night.
She has?
Heard about the break-out, Red! Genius!
How many lives do you have anyway?
Honestly, Roger,
I lost count at a baker's dozen.
Give my regards to the captain.
Good to see you guys.
Hey! There you are.
We've got a situation at the buffet.
- Oh, dear. What's wrong?
- You're out of those jumbo shrimps.
I let the kitchen know.
Hey, uh, while I got ya,
I've been meaning to apologize
about that whole jury mix-up.
- I feel real bad.
- Eh. It's behind us.
Mnh-mnh. Not to me, it's not.
I dropped the ball. Screwed the pooch.
Bungled the job.
If there's anything you need,
any way I can make it up to you,
just let ol' Jelly Bean know.
- Thank you for coming, Glen.
- No problemo.
Hey. I thought you'd want me here.
I'm sort of the straw
that stirs the drink.
By the way, Mom's over at the punch bowl.
She's always had her eye on ya,
if you know what I mean.
Drop by. Say hi.
And don't forget the shrimps.
Dembe. Did you find it?
- I did.
- And?
There's a body.
What? That can't be.
I'm staring at it right now.
Put it on the jet. Bring it here.
- I want confirmation.
- You want me to bring you
a decomposed body from Cuba?
Yes. And hurry home, Dembe.
Heddie's dying for a dance.
I went to the
neurologist for another MRI.
The headaches, the
forgetfulness, the confusion...
it's all symptomatic of something called
vascular dementia.
Apparently I have been having
a series of mini-strokes.
I don't feel them. I don't
know that they're happening.
But they are, and...
each one causes damage.
I'm glad you resigned.
That gives us the time
to get you the treatment that you need.
It's not just work.
It's family, too.
Aram, I can't have kids.
Let's just stick to one major
life decision at a time.
We have to talk about this.
And we will. After you get better.
I'm up for anything but false hope.
No anger, no denial.
No bargaining, no depression.
Can you do that for me?
No.
Okay, then please promise me this...
don't tell anyone about my condition.
I don't want them to know.
Of course.
That I can do.
Walt Whitman lived in a boarding house
at this address during the Civil War.
Did you know he was
an ardent prohibitionist?
Imagine that... a sober poet.
Mmm!
Have I ever told you about my mentor?
You mean, somebody actually taught you
how to drink this early?
Is it early? I thought it was late.
Robert Vesco.
Robert took me under his wing.
He taught me how to be a fugitive.
I trusted him with my life...
and my life's savings.
Which he convinced me to invest
in a cattle ranch in Paraguay.
Or so I thought, until I went down there
and found out it was a whorehouse
just outside of Asunción.
He conned you. Out of everything.
I got my first taste for vengeance...
which I was never able to satisfy.
Why not?
Because Vesco up and died on me.
Robert Vesco was a central player
in American financial
and political scandals
in the 1970s.
In 1971, the SEC accused Vesco
of looting $200 million out of
a mutual fund he controlled.
And a year later, Vesco made an
illegal campaign contribution
to Richard Nixon, hoping
that Nixon's attorney general
would let him off the hook.
And when he didn't,
Vesco fled the country,
living the rest of his life in
glamorous exile in Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, The Bahamas, and Cuba,
where he reportedly died in 2007.
- Reportedly?
- When Reddington was in prison,
he heard a rumor that Vesco
faked his death to avoid capture.
Does he have any proof?
He sent Dembe to Havana
to dig up his grave.
He asked me to have the M.E.
run the DNA on the remains he unearthed.
There was a time
when the Bureau was actively
hunting for Vesco, but we're not anymore.
If he did fake his death,
- I doubt it was to avoid capture.
- Reddington agrees.
He thinks Vesco found the De La Cruz...
a Spanish ship filled with gold
that sank off the coast
of Florida in the 1700s.
Vesco always told him that
if he found that treasure,
that he would disappear forever.
- Does Mr. Reddington know him?
- Know him?
Vesco was Reddington's mentor...
until he swindled him
out of every penny he had
and left him high and dry
in a whorehouse in Paraguay.
- I like this guy already.
- In the last 50 years,
there have been two truly
mythic fugitives...
Robert Vesco and Raymond Reddington.
If one can help us get
the other, I'm all for it.
Ressler, Keen, find out where
the M.E. is at with the remains.
Before you do that, I want you
to know that I'm resigning.
You're leaving?
For what? The Mossad?
No, I'm leaving them, too.
Which reminds me...
they've called to schedule
an exit interview.
I know I speak for everyone when I say
we'll miss you and we're happy for you.
Thank you.
Pop quiz... guess who's
buried in Vesco's grave.
- So it's not Vesco?
- No.
His name was Anderson Mount.
- Who's that?
- Run-of-the-mill goon.
His greatest hits.
Did enough damage to get into CODIS.
And when we put the DNA from the body
into the system, we got a match.
Thanks, Doc.
So, if Mount's in Vesco's grave...
maybe Vesco's in Mount's life.
It says in his file, Mount
was in Truro, Nova Scotia.
If you want to get off the grid,
you can't get much further than that.
Looks like we're going to Nova Scotia.
- In the middle of winter.
- Come on.
We're gonna need warmer clothes.
Hello, Samar.
Levi. It's good to see you.
I hear congratulations are in order.
Yeah. Can you believe it? I'm engaged.
Um, this is Dr. Sands.
He will administer the polygraph.
Is this really necessary?
It's protocol. You know that.
Let me guess... Tel Aviv regrets
having loaned me out to the FBI.
They think my allegiances have shifted.
You have level-four clearance.
They want to make sure I've kept
what I know from the Americans.
Or Reddington. Hey.
I'm just the messenger.
Yeah, and the message I'm getting is that
you think I have something to hide.
So much for glamorous exile.
I don't get it. Why would Vesco
fake his death so he could
live here of all places?
I think we need to get
the local police involved.
We talked about this...
Reddington said a guy like Vesco
would have every cop in town on payroll.
We go to them, they tell Vesco,
and he slips away.
Have you provided any
classified information to the FBI?
- No.
- Were you loyal to the state of Israel?
- Yes.
- Have you broken any laws
while working with Raymond Reddington?
- Yes.
- Have you withheld any information
- from your Mossad handlers?
- Yes.
- Information about your resignation?
- Yes.
- Have you shared it with the FBI?
- No.
- Is this personal information?
- Yes.
Do you have any serious medical issues?
Yes.
What is it?
I'm pregnant.
Vesco, or whatever
he's calling himself...
he would have the resources
to go anywhere he wanted to,
create any life.
Whatever brought him here, it's personal.
Well, you can ask him
all the questions you want
once we find him.
First, we got to clear those kids.
Something about this guy...
what Reddington told us...
it doesn't add up.
- Yeah.
- One unmarked outside.
Two agents just entered your building.
Exit down the alley to the east.
Will advise.
He's on the move!
Alley to the east! On foot!
Exit the alley and turn right.
Street's clear.
Keen, tell me you got something.
Head south towards the shoreline.
Crossing Acadia Street! Headed east!
Blue denim. Tan sweater.
Stop!
Get in.
- Robert.
-
Stop!
Reddington.
Like I said... whatever brought
him here, it's personal.
You look awfully good for a dead man.
Where the hell's my money?
Are you still upset about Asunción?
I trusted you.
You were my mentor.
And I was mentoring you in
survival, in being selfish.
And looking out for yourself.
Robert. My money.
You think I'd be living
in Nova Scotia if I had it?
I know why you're living there...
you found the De La Cruz.
The treasure. Where is it?
If it's real, I believe
I know where it is.
I never went after it.
Oh, I wanted to,
but enemies were circling.
I had to flee.
So I staged my own death
and I fled the country.
And by the time the dust had settled,
I... I realized that I had changed.
"Changed." I'd lost the itch.
I walked away.
Being forced to lie low
and live the simple life
was the best thing that
could've happened to me.
I-It forced me to turn the world
off and to tune into myself.
- Oh, my God.
- I have my cat.
I have plenty of glorious books.
Robert, you conned me once.
I won't be conned again.
Untether yourself from
social expectations
and this destructive life of
crime and... and look inward.
I'm happy to.
Right after I get the gold.
You can have it, Ray, but...
It won't give you inner peace.
I already have inner peace.
What I could use is a new yacht.
The last one was seized in Mallorca.
All right, I believe the gold is buried
under the Old French Opera House
in New Orleans.
I can prove it to you,
but we'll have to reroute the jet.
- To where?
- Washington.
There isn't a treasure map,
but there is a clue trail
in the Library of Congress.
Robert, if you're lying,
I will shatter your serenity
by burning your home,
drowning your cat,
and cutting off your big toes.
You wouldn't dare drown my cat.
Maybe not.
But I will take the toes.
How'd it go?
They sent Levi.
A friendly face to put me at ease
while they administered a polygraph.
They gave you a polygraph? Why?
To make I wasn't leaving
because I'd been turned.
That's ridiculous. And insulting.
Listen, Aram, I meant what I said earlier
about having children.
We need to talk about it.
I can't believe they think
that you could be a traitor.
- Aram, it doesn't matter.
- Listen to me. Listen to me.
You know, we should tell Mr. Cooper,
and he'll strengthen them right out.
It doesn't matter what they think.
What matters is us, our future,
whether or not we can have a family.
Why? Why is that so urgent
that it cannot wait
until you get help... or convince Levi
that you didn't dump him to join Hamas?
He does know that I'm, like,
a quarter Jewish, right?
Reddington screwed us.
Took Vesco for himself.
He knew Vesco would have
the local cops in his pocket,
so he tipped them off that we were there.
So he gets his revenge.
Yesterday the world
thought Vesco was dead.
By tomorrow, he will be.
Reddington wants more than
revenge. He wants treasure.
The De La Cruz? Reddington
said Vesco already found it.
Well, judging by his modest apartment,
I'd say that if he knew where
it was, he never found it.
Reddington called us from his
jet to give a gloating apology
and to say the hunt was on.
Then let's join in.
If we solve the mystery,
maybe we can get to the treasure
first and arrest Vesco.
Robert, I appreciate
that your love of literature
is almost as keen as mine,
but why on Earth are we
in the Library of Congress?
Uh, you want to know
how I decoded the myth
and located my white whale?
The answer is in the poem.
"The Ballad of the De La Cruz."
It was written under a pseudonym.
The author is a mystery,
but when Reddington
gave us this case, he said this poem
somehow holds the key to
where the gold was hidden.
The poem is an opera singer's lament
about a Spanish ship
bringing silver and gold
to the American colonies
during the Revolution.
But the ship sank in a storm
somewhere along the East Coast,
killing over 120 men aboard
and sending over half a ton of
gold and treasure into the deep.
We had the NSA run the text
through decryption and
steganography programs.
They came up empty.
If there's a secret hidden in that text,
- they couldn't find it.
- Maybe it's in the subtext.
Storms. Marauders. Dates and times.
Who'd know about that? The Naval College?
The Library of Congress.
They have more primary source material
than any library in the world.
Keen, Ressler.
Get there. Decode the poem.
Samar, Aram, you're on
Reddington. I want him found.
According to the poem,
the De La Cruz sank
the spring of 1778.
But there's no record
of any storm big enough
to take down a galleon of that size.
So I started thinking...
what if it never sank?
What if the "storm"
that presumably destroyed the De La Cruz
was actually a metaphor...
For something else catastrophic.
Or someone.
It didn't sink. It was taken.
The De La Cruz was
headed to Philadelphia.
The route from southern waters
would take it right past
what used to be known as Hell's Gate,
an area known to be
frequented by pirates.
Uh-huh.
Enter Ernesto Hidalgo.
Criminal. Cheat. Pirate. Drunk.
He and his men dominated
that area at the time.
How can you be sure he was
the one who took the galleon?
Because Hidalgo and his men
were in all the papers
in the months before May 1778.
But afterwards? Nothing.
He took the treasure and he fled inland.
Naval records indicated
the Navy hunted them down,
killing Hidalgo and his entire
crew near New Orleans.
But there's no mention of
any recovered treasure.
Hidalgo hid it somewhere before he died.
The question is where.
Enter Judith Snell,
one of the most famous
opera singers of her time.
Heh. Just like the poem.
Apparently, Judith liked to
hang around with the bad boys.
And the papers of the day
were full of her exploits
with any number of rogues and
scoundrels, Hidalgo being one.
And I believe that he gave her
the task of hiding the bounty
in a place where nobody
would dare look...
her dressing room in the
opera house in New Orleans...
which later burned to the ground,
killing her and 28 others.
My theory? Whatever remains
of Judith Snell's dressing room
is located here, directly under the stage
of the new opera house, which was built
on the remains of the old one.
If the treasure's real, it's there.
What a tale.
An opera.
A romance with pirates.
A fire. Shipwrecks and gold.
Just the sort of thing that gets
me out of bed in the morning.
It won't make you happy, Ray.
It won't make you whole.
Oh, but you're wrong.
It will make me happy. Very.
Dembe, phone Ruddiger.
Tell him to sober up.
We're gonna rob the opera.
Hi. Agents Keen and Ressler, FBI.
- How can I help you?
- We got a poem we're looking for.
We think it may be some
sort of treasure map.
- I know that sounds crazy...
- "The Ballad of the De La Cruz."
How could you possibly know that?
Because you're not the first
people who've asked me about it.
Two old white guys.
And an African-American gentlemen.
We need to see whatever they looked at.
Whatever you gave them, you
need to get for us right now.
To access the treasure,
we need to get inside
Judith Snell's old dressing room,
which is located here, under the stage.
Now, the only way to get to
that room is through here...
the south wall of the basement,
and we would need that explosion
to be timed precisely
- so the audience doesn't hear.
- The audience?!
In order to pull off this heist,
the theater has to be full.
And why, pray tell, is that?
For cover!
Look, getting inside
the room is one thing,
but getting the loot out
without detection
is decidedly more difficult.
We're talking about a truckload of gold!
And without cover, we'd be spotted
before we got the first armful out.
Now, "Barber of Seville" closes tomorrow,
which means we're gonna have to
wait for next month's show
in order to pull off this heist.
Next month?
Be still my beating heart, next month.
Raymond, it's not meant to be.
This is a job that requires
weeks of planning and practice.
This is a heist that has to
be perfectly arranged,
perfectly choreographed,
each move timed to the opera.
Yes. And literally leading
to an explosive crescendo.
We're gonna need distractions
to get past security.
We're gonna need explosives
to penetrate the concrete.
We're gonna need vehicles
to move the loot.
We're gonna need disguises!
I don't think you truly appreciate
my dedication to this project,
so let me tell you exactly
how this is going to play out.
You and I are going to
"The Barber of Seville"
tomorrow night, and we're not leaving
until we have that treasure.
So you better start studying
that sheet music.
Raymond, I don't think you...
I'll take care of everything else.
You need munitions?
My little German friend was born
with a schnapps in one hand
and a detonator in the other.
I'll have him here in eight hours.
You need vehicles? Drivers?
I've got trucks. I've got guys.
I've got women who can handle the guys.
I've got people with faces so fresh,
they'll never see them coming.
You need a distraction to get backstage?
I've got a guy who can talk faster
than a hot, buttered bullet.
The truth is, Robert,
my only real concern is you.
- Your attitude.
- My attitude?
The pep in your step.
The lust in your life.
If we're gonna pull this off,
we need to get you right.
You need to be your very best.
We need to reawaken the old Robert Vesco,
rediscover that dapper rascal
whose charm and wit could deceive
even the very best of us.
How do you feel?
Like I'd rather be home with my cat.
Trust me, Robert, that feeling will pass
the moment you hear the music.
You'll feel your heart pump again.
You'll feel truly alive. I'm sure of it.
Franton, we'll take two.
This is really happening.
I mean, I know it is, but...
Whoa. You are tall.
What?
That's the first thing
I ever said to you.
When, uh, Mr. Cooper brought you
into the war room.
I was thinking, "Whoa.
You are, like, super pretty."
But instead you said I'm tall?
We need to talk.
And as my dad used to say,
now is as bad a time as any, so...
How many aliases do you have?
Four. I won't need them for work anymore.
But if I ever want to disappear,
they'll come in handy.
Well, then I better memorize them.
That way, I can always
find you, if, um...
Wait.
Oh, my God. That's it.
How to find Mr. Reddington.
Better tell Cooper.
Yes. Um...
Uh, you stay here.
I'll... I'll tell Mr. Cooper.
And then, um, I'll get us some
coffees, and we'll talk.
You're really tall.
I didn't read this many books
in high school.
The answer's here somewhere.
I'm sure Reddington figured it out.
Well, he had Vesco. We got nothing.
Aram, did you find him?
Mr. Homan just made a sizable donation
to the Marigny Foundation for the Arts.
Mr. Homan?
He's one of Mr. Reddington's aliases.
So, Reddington made
an anonymous donation
to an arts organization?
One that comes with season tickets
to the New Orleans opera.
Aram, you're a genius.
Reddington just bought tickets
to the opera in New Orleans,
just like the one mentioned in the poem.
So we don't have to decrypt it.
No. We're going to the opera.
I thought the library was dull.
Samar failed her polygraph.
Levi. What... What are you doing here?
She's hiding something from me.
I need to know what it is.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
And I-I don't really
appreciate being followed.
Hey, we both want what's best for her.
Yeah, well, questioning her loyalty
is a funny way of showing it.
I know she didn't betray us.
But my bosses...
they might look at the results
and come to a different conclusion.
What is that supposed to mean?
Is that some kind of threat?
She knows too much.
This could be a liability.
Uh, are you guys gonna order, or...?
Sorry. Please go ahead.
Look, Samar, she's not
looking out for herself.
I'm here because I was hoping you will.
Okay. Here.
In case you change your mind.
Just... Hang on.
There was an accident.
She...
Her brain was...
was deprived of oxygen.
- I'm sorry to hear that.
- Listen. This is very private.
And she wants to keep this to herself.
It's something called vascular dementia.
Will that be enough
to satisfy your bosses?
Uh, I would think so.
Hey, uh, congratulations, by the way.
Samar told me the good news.
Do you know if it's a girl or a boy?
I...
Um, I-I have, uh, absolutely no idea.
Yeah. It's better that way.
Why ruin the surprise, you know?
Okay. That's our door. Stage left.
I hate to walk out on "Figaro's Aria,"
but I've seen it before.
I'll see it again.
Places, everyone. Places.
Here comes our cue.
Three, two, one...
Germany, you're up.
Four bars out.
Hold. And hold.
And cue Germany!
I did no such thing.
And I've only had two drinks.
The hell you have.
And you touched my breasts!
What's going on here?!
- He's drunk!
- He's drunk.
I told you I took
those drinks to my wife.
I am not drunk!
You were hittin' on me, you ape,
and you most certainly are drunk!
- Okay. That's enough.
- Aah!
No more drinks. That's it.
Hit me.
He's drunk. We need to
take him through the back.
Okay. We're past security.
Mr. Carter, we're on our way to you.
Watch your tempo, Ray.
Allegro vivace.
Half note, whole note, turn to the left.
Are you the guy from the pharmacy?
What took you so long?!
This big guy won't let me past!
- He says he has a delivery.
- I've got it all.
Everything from wet wipes
to adult diapers.
I got your Maalox, your Mylanta,
your Kaopectate.
I got a vaporizer... Those things
don't even all do the same thing!
What's going on?! All I know
is I got a call 45 minutes ago
saying Count someone-or-another
had the runs.
It's for Count Almaviva.
Rolando, he's come down with the flu.
What did he eat?
Maybe he got a bad oyster.
I had a nasty Blue Point once.
Ohh, turned me inside out.
I was playing tango with the toilet
for the better part of a day.
Fascinating as this is, we need
to get you to the Count now.
He's on in 10.
Cue Vontae and Dembe!
Step-ball-change,
step-ball-change, step-ball-change.
Ruddiger, what the hell's going on?
The voice
The heartbreak and sorrow!
- Ah.
- It's a comedy!
No, my sorrow!
When I was a boy, all my friends
wanted to be football players
and racecar drivers,
and I dreamed to be a tenor!
- Oh, dear God.
- This is bad, Ray.
I'm sorry, Raymond. I lost my place!
The music, it took me back!
We're on a clock!
We're timed to the music.
If the detonation doesn't go off
exactly with the applause,
everyone will hear it!
- I'm so sorry!
- Okay, that's it.
Set the charges. Robert, give us a hand.
Ray, we don't have time
to set all the charges.
- He's nearing the end of the aria now.
-
Glen! We have a situation.
What situation?
We're behind, and if we blow
the charges late,
we're gonna have
the police here in seconds.
We need a distraction.
Something loud. Really loud!
- What the hell do you want me to do?
- I don't know, Glen!
That's why you're here!
You wanted a second chance!
This is it! Figure it out!
Think fast! Make some noise!
It's time to make your... Broadway debut.
Fire! Fire!
Everybody out!
There's a grease fire in
the kitchen! It ain't good!
Run for your lives! Run for your lives!
Blow it. Now!
Oh, my God.
The De La Cruz.
It is real.
Now, there's the twinkle in your eye
I've been looking for.
Sir, what on Earth would make
you shout "fire" in the middle
of a crowded theater when
in fact there was no fire?
I thought I smelled smoke.
All I was trying to do was save lives!
I'm telling you,
Keen, he double-crossed us.
We're not getting Vesco or the money.
He gave me his word. I believe him.
- Is that it?
- Last one. Time to roll.
Look, I'll talk to the local PD.
See what they have to say.
I'll talk to fire.
- Mr. Carter.
- You know this guy?
Elizabeth Keen, FBI.
Can I talk to him for a minute?
Hey! What are the odds
of seeing you here?
- You an opera fan?
- Drop the act. Where is he?
Don't know what you're talking about.
Reddington. He was here. How long ago?
Don't lie to me.
You just missed him.
Elizabeth.
- This isn't a good time.
- I'm at the opera house.
Did you enjoy the show?
You got your treasure. Now I want Vesco.
We'll be at Lulu's enjoying
their key lime pie.
I'll get your slice to go.
Sex and treasure.
People will betray for both.
Like you're betraying me now
that I've gotten you the gold.
You can turn me in at Lulu's,
and your revenge will be complete.
It's okay, Ray. I forgive you.
More, I understand.
You were my protégé, Ray. I loved you.
But I took you for
everything you were worth,
and I left you in an Asunción whorehouse,
and I never gave it a second thought.
And now?
Now I'm free.
I have no intention of
turning you in, Robert.
And we're certainly not going to Lulu's.
Place is bursting with tourists,
and their pies are terrible.
We're gonna go find ourselves a nice,
quiet cup of coffee somewhere.
Is it true that you introduced
Nixon's brother to Castro
and then swindled them both
into investing in a bogus drug trial?
And got tossed in a Cuban jail
for my troubles.
Nixon and Castro!
My God! It boggles the mind.
Truck's in the warehouse.
Locked tighter than a clam at hide tide.
Where are the others?
Killin' bourbon on Bourbon Street.
- Why don't you join them?
- Hoo!
Well, boys, I am off for a night
of debauchery in the Big Easy.
Like Blanche DuBois,
I depend on the kindness of strangers.
Cheerio!
Well, I feel like a walk by the river.
That's a great idea.
Oh, I'm afraid I wouldn't
be very good company.
I'm old. I'm tired.
And I'm at peace.
The airport, then.
Tomorrow at 10:00.
I'll drop you wherever you want.
I was filled with vengeance for so long,
I never saw the gift
you gave me in Asunción.
I never trusted anyone easily after that.
That's why I'm still alive.
I'm in your debt, my friend.
Ohh.
Believe me, Ray.
You've more than repaid your debt.
Change of plans.
I just got off the phone with Levi.
I have been honorably discharged.
- I'm, uh, not surprised.
- I am.
During the polygraph test
when he asked me
why I was leaving,
I said it was personal.
I didn't want him to know
the truth, so I lied.
Well, whatever you told him, it's over.
So now we can talk.
About you being pregnant.
Aram... That's what you've been
trying to tell me, isn't it?
So, my parents made this for me
30 years ago for the day I became a dad.
Uh, all I, uh, remember
are the fruit-flies
and the, uh, cheesecloth.
And the fancy crystal that
my mom insists on using
nine months from now when we pop the cork
to celebrate unimaginable love.
I'm not pregnant, Aram.
That was the lie that I told Levi
to cover the truth about my health.
You're not...?
The truth is that I've never
wanted children.
I used to be self-conscious
about that, about the fact
that I didn't have any
kind of maternal instinct.
But I made my peace with it
a long time ago.
And then I met you.
And you changed everything.
And now there's nothing I would
like more than to be pregnant.
Nothing either of us would like more.
But it can't happen.
I can't raise a child.
Ever.
Okay.
Okay?
If you don't think we should have kids,
- then we shouldn't have them.
- You say that now, Aram,
but in a year or five years...
- I'll be saying the same thing.
- No.
Someday you will have regrets,
and I don't want to be the reason why.
Aram, that's why I've
been wanting to talk.
I think you deserve more.
That's quite the little stunt you pulled.
It was, wasn't it?
I was quite pleased with
how it all came together.
Where's Vesco?
- He inside?
- No, he's not.
- The treasure is.
- You let him go.
Turns out, he's reformed.
A reformed fugitive.
Sworn off greed and avarice.
So you commuted his sentence?
Like the President commuted yours?
Yes, and in honor
of his ascetic existence,
I've decided to hand over
$100-something million
worth of 18th-century gold.
You're just gonna give it to us?
Every last doubloon. It's inside.
Or it isn't.
I'm in your debt, my friend.
Ohh. Believe me, Ray.
You've more than repaid your debt.
He's reformed, is he?
"Given up greed and avarice"?
Do you have a phone?
I'm sure he'll be a real ascetic
with your $100 million.
Come on. Take my picture.
It's not often I get egg on my face.
But to be egged by the same person twice?
That needs memorializing.
You think this is funny?
This was a complete waste of time.
Waste of time?
We've been decrypting legends.
Chasing pirates.
Hunting hidden treasure.
And come up empty. We lost Vesco.
How can you lose something you never had?
I gave you a Blacklister
you thought was dead.
Now that you know he's alive,
you can hunt him down.
Plus, you witnessed my humiliation.
I think that would salve any wound.
It doesn't. But it's a start.
Get in here, Dembe.
I see a little yolk on your cheek.
Smile, suckers.
- You're wrong about me.
- How did you find me?
When you said there's nothing I want more
than to have a child.
I mean, that is...
That is what I thought,
what I had always imagined.
Until I met you.
And then you changed everything.
What we have...
This is our story,
and if our story doesn't
involve having kids,
well, that's okay.
I don't need to wait nine months
to celebrate unimaginable love.
And I certainly don't need fancy crystal.
- Aram.
- We are never breaking up. Okay?
Ever. And I don't want any denial
anger, bargaining or depression.
Can you do that for me?
No.
Okay.
Promise me this.
that you'll do everything
humanly possible
to try and get better.
I promise.
It's going to be okay.
Tell me that again.
Everything will be okay.
- Yes, sir?
Than the one next door.
They need help in the back room.
More servers. At least one. Maybe two.
- Yes, sir, Mr. Reddington.
- And, also, let's open
another couple of cases of the Reserva.
And, please, tell Amelia
to keep the drinks flowing.
Champagne, the wines, cocktails.
I don't care if they're drinking milk...
I don't want an empty glass out there.
Of course, Mr. Reddington.
And, Mr. Reddington,
it's good to have you back, sir.
Oh, it's good to be had.
Nolan! You made it!
- Thank you for coming.
- Wouldn't miss it for the world.
Wonderful party, Red.
Not nearly as wonderful
as your daughter's
beautiful wedding in Berlin.
My head's still throbbing.
Vivian, where's your husband?
- He couldn't make it.
- Thank goodness.
Find me later. We have some...
catching up to do.
- Red! Hey! Red!
- Teddy!
I can't hear a damn thing
with all this music!
It's much quieter on the veranda.
Miranda's in the toilet!
The balcony. It's much quieter outside.
Forget it! I'll be out on the veranda!
I can't hear a word you're sayin'!
Oh. Uh, Mr. Reddington.
Hey. Help me out. I'm looking
for a girl on the wait staff.
A brunette with a nose ring?
- Sidney.
- Yeah, Sidney.
- Think you could introduce me to Sidney?
- Funny thing, that.
She asked me to introduce her to you.
- Oh.
- Heddie!
Would you be a dear and introduce Vontae
to your young waitress friend?
Oh, my God. Will you come with
me and meet this girl already?
She has been making
eyes at you all night.
She has?
Heard about the break-out, Red! Genius!
How many lives do you have anyway?
Honestly, Roger,
I lost count at a baker's dozen.
Give my regards to the captain.
Good to see you guys.
Hey! There you are.
We've got a situation at the buffet.
- Oh, dear. What's wrong?
- You're out of those jumbo shrimps.
I let the kitchen know.
Hey, uh, while I got ya,
I've been meaning to apologize
about that whole jury mix-up.
- I feel real bad.
- Eh. It's behind us.
Mnh-mnh. Not to me, it's not.
I dropped the ball. Screwed the pooch.
Bungled the job.
If there's anything you need,
any way I can make it up to you,
just let ol' Jelly Bean know.
- Thank you for coming, Glen.
- No problemo.
Hey. I thought you'd want me here.
I'm sort of the straw
that stirs the drink.
By the way, Mom's over at the punch bowl.
She's always had her eye on ya,
if you know what I mean.
Drop by. Say hi.
And don't forget the shrimps.
Dembe. Did you find it?
- I did.
- And?
There's a body.
What? That can't be.
I'm staring at it right now.
Put it on the jet. Bring it here.
- I want confirmation.
- You want me to bring you
a decomposed body from Cuba?
Yes. And hurry home, Dembe.
Heddie's dying for a dance.
I went to the
neurologist for another MRI.
The headaches, the
forgetfulness, the confusion...
it's all symptomatic of something called
vascular dementia.
Apparently I have been having
a series of mini-strokes.
I don't feel them. I don't
know that they're happening.
But they are, and...
each one causes damage.
I'm glad you resigned.
That gives us the time
to get you the treatment that you need.
It's not just work.
It's family, too.
Aram, I can't have kids.
Let's just stick to one major
life decision at a time.
We have to talk about this.
And we will. After you get better.
I'm up for anything but false hope.
No anger, no denial.
No bargaining, no depression.
Can you do that for me?
No.
Okay, then please promise me this...
don't tell anyone about my condition.
I don't want them to know.
Of course.
That I can do.
Walt Whitman lived in a boarding house
at this address during the Civil War.
Did you know he was
an ardent prohibitionist?
Imagine that... a sober poet.
Mmm!
Have I ever told you about my mentor?
You mean, somebody actually taught you
how to drink this early?
Is it early? I thought it was late.
Robert Vesco.
Robert took me under his wing.
He taught me how to be a fugitive.
I trusted him with my life...
and my life's savings.
Which he convinced me to invest
in a cattle ranch in Paraguay.
Or so I thought, until I went down there
and found out it was a whorehouse
just outside of Asunción.
He conned you. Out of everything.
I got my first taste for vengeance...
which I was never able to satisfy.
Why not?
Because Vesco up and died on me.
Robert Vesco was a central player
in American financial
and political scandals
in the 1970s.
In 1971, the SEC accused Vesco
of looting $200 million out of
a mutual fund he controlled.
And a year later, Vesco made an
illegal campaign contribution
to Richard Nixon, hoping
that Nixon's attorney general
would let him off the hook.
And when he didn't,
Vesco fled the country,
living the rest of his life in
glamorous exile in Costa Rica,
Nicaragua, The Bahamas, and Cuba,
where he reportedly died in 2007.
- Reportedly?
- When Reddington was in prison,
he heard a rumor that Vesco
faked his death to avoid capture.
Does he have any proof?
He sent Dembe to Havana
to dig up his grave.
He asked me to have the M.E.
run the DNA on the remains he unearthed.
There was a time
when the Bureau was actively
hunting for Vesco, but we're not anymore.
If he did fake his death,
- I doubt it was to avoid capture.
- Reddington agrees.
He thinks Vesco found the De La Cruz...
a Spanish ship filled with gold
that sank off the coast
of Florida in the 1700s.
Vesco always told him that
if he found that treasure,
that he would disappear forever.
- Does Mr. Reddington know him?
- Know him?
Vesco was Reddington's mentor...
until he swindled him
out of every penny he had
and left him high and dry
in a whorehouse in Paraguay.
- I like this guy already.
- In the last 50 years,
there have been two truly
mythic fugitives...
Robert Vesco and Raymond Reddington.
If one can help us get
the other, I'm all for it.
Ressler, Keen, find out where
the M.E. is at with the remains.
Before you do that, I want you
to know that I'm resigning.
You're leaving?
For what? The Mossad?
No, I'm leaving them, too.
Which reminds me...
they've called to schedule
an exit interview.
I know I speak for everyone when I say
we'll miss you and we're happy for you.
Thank you.
Pop quiz... guess who's
buried in Vesco's grave.
- So it's not Vesco?
- No.
His name was Anderson Mount.
- Who's that?
- Run-of-the-mill goon.
His greatest hits.
Did enough damage to get into CODIS.
And when we put the DNA from the body
into the system, we got a match.
Thanks, Doc.
So, if Mount's in Vesco's grave...
maybe Vesco's in Mount's life.
It says in his file, Mount
was in Truro, Nova Scotia.
If you want to get off the grid,
you can't get much further than that.
Looks like we're going to Nova Scotia.
- In the middle of winter.
- Come on.
We're gonna need warmer clothes.
Hello, Samar.
Levi. It's good to see you.
I hear congratulations are in order.
Yeah. Can you believe it? I'm engaged.
Um, this is Dr. Sands.
He will administer the polygraph.
Is this really necessary?
It's protocol. You know that.
Let me guess... Tel Aviv regrets
having loaned me out to the FBI.
They think my allegiances have shifted.
You have level-four clearance.
They want to make sure I've kept
what I know from the Americans.
Or Reddington. Hey.
I'm just the messenger.
Yeah, and the message I'm getting is that
you think I have something to hide.
So much for glamorous exile.
I don't get it. Why would Vesco
fake his death so he could
live here of all places?
I think we need to get
the local police involved.
We talked about this...
Reddington said a guy like Vesco
would have every cop in town on payroll.
We go to them, they tell Vesco,
and he slips away.
Have you provided any
classified information to the FBI?
- No.
- Were you loyal to the state of Israel?
- Yes.
- Have you broken any laws
while working with Raymond Reddington?
- Yes.
- Have you withheld any information
- from your Mossad handlers?
- Yes.
- Information about your resignation?
- Yes.
- Have you shared it with the FBI?
- No.
- Is this personal information?
- Yes.
Do you have any serious medical issues?
Yes.
What is it?
I'm pregnant.
Vesco, or whatever
he's calling himself...
he would have the resources
to go anywhere he wanted to,
create any life.
Whatever brought him here, it's personal.
Well, you can ask him
all the questions you want
once we find him.
First, we got to clear those kids.
Something about this guy...
what Reddington told us...
it doesn't add up.
- Yeah.
- One unmarked outside.
Two agents just entered your building.
Exit down the alley to the east.
Will advise.
He's on the move!
Alley to the east! On foot!
Exit the alley and turn right.
Street's clear.
Keen, tell me you got something.
Head south towards the shoreline.
Crossing Acadia Street! Headed east!
Blue denim. Tan sweater.
Stop!
Get in.
- Robert.
-
Stop!
Reddington.
Like I said... whatever brought
him here, it's personal.
You look awfully good for a dead man.
Where the hell's my money?
Are you still upset about Asunción?
I trusted you.
You were my mentor.
And I was mentoring you in
survival, in being selfish.
And looking out for yourself.
Robert. My money.
You think I'd be living
in Nova Scotia if I had it?
I know why you're living there...
you found the De La Cruz.
The treasure. Where is it?
If it's real, I believe
I know where it is.
I never went after it.
Oh, I wanted to,
but enemies were circling.
I had to flee.
So I staged my own death
and I fled the country.
And by the time the dust had settled,
I... I realized that I had changed.
"Changed." I'd lost the itch.
I walked away.
Being forced to lie low
and live the simple life
was the best thing that
could've happened to me.
I-It forced me to turn the world
off and to tune into myself.
- Oh, my God.
- I have my cat.
I have plenty of glorious books.
Robert, you conned me once.
I won't be conned again.
Untether yourself from
social expectations
and this destructive life of
crime and... and look inward.
I'm happy to.
Right after I get the gold.
You can have it, Ray, but...
It won't give you inner peace.
I already have inner peace.
What I could use is a new yacht.
The last one was seized in Mallorca.
All right, I believe the gold is buried
under the Old French Opera House
in New Orleans.
I can prove it to you,
but we'll have to reroute the jet.
- To where?
- Washington.
There isn't a treasure map,
but there is a clue trail
in the Library of Congress.
Robert, if you're lying,
I will shatter your serenity
by burning your home,
drowning your cat,
and cutting off your big toes.
You wouldn't dare drown my cat.
Maybe not.
But I will take the toes.
How'd it go?
They sent Levi.
A friendly face to put me at ease
while they administered a polygraph.
They gave you a polygraph? Why?
To make I wasn't leaving
because I'd been turned.
That's ridiculous. And insulting.
Listen, Aram, I meant what I said earlier
about having children.
We need to talk about it.
I can't believe they think
that you could be a traitor.
- Aram, it doesn't matter.
- Listen to me. Listen to me.
You know, we should tell Mr. Cooper,
and he'll strengthen them right out.
It doesn't matter what they think.
What matters is us, our future,
whether or not we can have a family.
Why? Why is that so urgent
that it cannot wait
until you get help... or convince Levi
that you didn't dump him to join Hamas?
He does know that I'm, like,
a quarter Jewish, right?
Reddington screwed us.
Took Vesco for himself.
He knew Vesco would have
the local cops in his pocket,
so he tipped them off that we were there.
So he gets his revenge.
Yesterday the world
thought Vesco was dead.
By tomorrow, he will be.
Reddington wants more than
revenge. He wants treasure.
The De La Cruz? Reddington
said Vesco already found it.
Well, judging by his modest apartment,
I'd say that if he knew where
it was, he never found it.
Reddington called us from his
jet to give a gloating apology
and to say the hunt was on.
Then let's join in.
If we solve the mystery,
maybe we can get to the treasure
first and arrest Vesco.
Robert, I appreciate
that your love of literature
is almost as keen as mine,
but why on Earth are we
in the Library of Congress?
Uh, you want to know
how I decoded the myth
and located my white whale?
The answer is in the poem.
"The Ballad of the De La Cruz."
It was written under a pseudonym.
The author is a mystery,
but when Reddington
gave us this case, he said this poem
somehow holds the key to
where the gold was hidden.
The poem is an opera singer's lament
about a Spanish ship
bringing silver and gold
to the American colonies
during the Revolution.
But the ship sank in a storm
somewhere along the East Coast,
killing over 120 men aboard
and sending over half a ton of
gold and treasure into the deep.
We had the NSA run the text
through decryption and
steganography programs.
They came up empty.
If there's a secret hidden in that text,
- they couldn't find it.
- Maybe it's in the subtext.
Storms. Marauders. Dates and times.
Who'd know about that? The Naval College?
The Library of Congress.
They have more primary source material
than any library in the world.
Keen, Ressler.
Get there. Decode the poem.
Samar, Aram, you're on
Reddington. I want him found.
According to the poem,
the De La Cruz sank
the spring of 1778.
But there's no record
of any storm big enough
to take down a galleon of that size.
So I started thinking...
what if it never sank?
What if the "storm"
that presumably destroyed the De La Cruz
was actually a metaphor...
For something else catastrophic.
Or someone.
It didn't sink. It was taken.
The De La Cruz was
headed to Philadelphia.
The route from southern waters
would take it right past
what used to be known as Hell's Gate,
an area known to be
frequented by pirates.
Uh-huh.
Enter Ernesto Hidalgo.
Criminal. Cheat. Pirate. Drunk.
He and his men dominated
that area at the time.
How can you be sure he was
the one who took the galleon?
Because Hidalgo and his men
were in all the papers
in the months before May 1778.
But afterwards? Nothing.
He took the treasure and he fled inland.
Naval records indicated
the Navy hunted them down,
killing Hidalgo and his entire
crew near New Orleans.
But there's no mention of
any recovered treasure.
Hidalgo hid it somewhere before he died.
The question is where.
Enter Judith Snell,
one of the most famous
opera singers of her time.
Heh. Just like the poem.
Apparently, Judith liked to
hang around with the bad boys.
And the papers of the day
were full of her exploits
with any number of rogues and
scoundrels, Hidalgo being one.
And I believe that he gave her
the task of hiding the bounty
in a place where nobody
would dare look...
her dressing room in the
opera house in New Orleans...
which later burned to the ground,
killing her and 28 others.
My theory? Whatever remains
of Judith Snell's dressing room
is located here, directly under the stage
of the new opera house, which was built
on the remains of the old one.
If the treasure's real, it's there.
What a tale.
An opera.
A romance with pirates.
A fire. Shipwrecks and gold.
Just the sort of thing that gets
me out of bed in the morning.
It won't make you happy, Ray.
It won't make you whole.
Oh, but you're wrong.
It will make me happy. Very.
Dembe, phone Ruddiger.
Tell him to sober up.
We're gonna rob the opera.
Hi. Agents Keen and Ressler, FBI.
- How can I help you?
- We got a poem we're looking for.
We think it may be some
sort of treasure map.
- I know that sounds crazy...
- "The Ballad of the De La Cruz."
How could you possibly know that?
Because you're not the first
people who've asked me about it.
Two old white guys.
And an African-American gentlemen.
We need to see whatever they looked at.
Whatever you gave them, you
need to get for us right now.
To access the treasure,
we need to get inside
Judith Snell's old dressing room,
which is located here, under the stage.
Now, the only way to get to
that room is through here...
the south wall of the basement,
and we would need that explosion
to be timed precisely
- so the audience doesn't hear.
- The audience?!
In order to pull off this heist,
the theater has to be full.
And why, pray tell, is that?
For cover!
Look, getting inside
the room is one thing,
but getting the loot out
without detection
is decidedly more difficult.
We're talking about a truckload of gold!
And without cover, we'd be spotted
before we got the first armful out.
Now, "Barber of Seville" closes tomorrow,
which means we're gonna have to
wait for next month's show
in order to pull off this heist.
Next month?
Be still my beating heart, next month.
Raymond, it's not meant to be.
This is a job that requires
weeks of planning and practice.
This is a heist that has to
be perfectly arranged,
perfectly choreographed,
each move timed to the opera.
Yes. And literally leading
to an explosive crescendo.
We're gonna need distractions
to get past security.
We're gonna need explosives
to penetrate the concrete.
We're gonna need vehicles
to move the loot.
We're gonna need disguises!
I don't think you truly appreciate
my dedication to this project,
so let me tell you exactly
how this is going to play out.
You and I are going to
"The Barber of Seville"
tomorrow night, and we're not leaving
until we have that treasure.
So you better start studying
that sheet music.
Raymond, I don't think you...
I'll take care of everything else.
You need munitions?
My little German friend was born
with a schnapps in one hand
and a detonator in the other.
I'll have him here in eight hours.
You need vehicles? Drivers?
I've got trucks. I've got guys.
I've got women who can handle the guys.
I've got people with faces so fresh,
they'll never see them coming.
You need a distraction to get backstage?
I've got a guy who can talk faster
than a hot, buttered bullet.
The truth is, Robert,
my only real concern is you.
- Your attitude.
- My attitude?
The pep in your step.
The lust in your life.
If we're gonna pull this off,
we need to get you right.
You need to be your very best.
We need to reawaken the old Robert Vesco,
rediscover that dapper rascal
whose charm and wit could deceive
even the very best of us.
How do you feel?
Like I'd rather be home with my cat.
Trust me, Robert, that feeling will pass
the moment you hear the music.
You'll feel your heart pump again.
You'll feel truly alive. I'm sure of it.
Franton, we'll take two.
This is really happening.
I mean, I know it is, but...
Whoa. You are tall.
What?
That's the first thing
I ever said to you.
When, uh, Mr. Cooper brought you
into the war room.
I was thinking, "Whoa.
You are, like, super pretty."
But instead you said I'm tall?
We need to talk.
And as my dad used to say,
now is as bad a time as any, so...
How many aliases do you have?
Four. I won't need them for work anymore.
But if I ever want to disappear,
they'll come in handy.
Well, then I better memorize them.
That way, I can always
find you, if, um...
Wait.
Oh, my God. That's it.
How to find Mr. Reddington.
Better tell Cooper.
Yes. Um...
Uh, you stay here.
I'll... I'll tell Mr. Cooper.
And then, um, I'll get us some
coffees, and we'll talk.
You're really tall.
I didn't read this many books
in high school.
The answer's here somewhere.
I'm sure Reddington figured it out.
Well, he had Vesco. We got nothing.
Aram, did you find him?
Mr. Homan just made a sizable donation
to the Marigny Foundation for the Arts.
Mr. Homan?
He's one of Mr. Reddington's aliases.
So, Reddington made
an anonymous donation
to an arts organization?
One that comes with season tickets
to the New Orleans opera.
Aram, you're a genius.
Reddington just bought tickets
to the opera in New Orleans,
just like the one mentioned in the poem.
So we don't have to decrypt it.
No. We're going to the opera.
I thought the library was dull.
Samar failed her polygraph.
Levi. What... What are you doing here?
She's hiding something from me.
I need to know what it is.
I have no idea what you're talking about.
And I-I don't really
appreciate being followed.
Hey, we both want what's best for her.
Yeah, well, questioning her loyalty
is a funny way of showing it.
I know she didn't betray us.
But my bosses...
they might look at the results
and come to a different conclusion.
What is that supposed to mean?
Is that some kind of threat?
She knows too much.
This could be a liability.
Uh, are you guys gonna order, or...?
Sorry. Please go ahead.
Look, Samar, she's not
looking out for herself.
I'm here because I was hoping you will.
Okay. Here.
In case you change your mind.
Just... Hang on.
There was an accident.
She...
Her brain was...
was deprived of oxygen.
- I'm sorry to hear that.
- Listen. This is very private.
And she wants to keep this to herself.
It's something called vascular dementia.
Will that be enough
to satisfy your bosses?
Uh, I would think so.
Hey, uh, congratulations, by the way.
Samar told me the good news.
Do you know if it's a girl or a boy?
I...
Um, I-I have, uh, absolutely no idea.
Yeah. It's better that way.
Why ruin the surprise, you know?
Okay. That's our door. Stage left.
I hate to walk out on "Figaro's Aria,"
but I've seen it before.
I'll see it again.
Places, everyone. Places.
Here comes our cue.
Three, two, one...
Germany, you're up.
Four bars out.
Hold. And hold.
And cue Germany!
I did no such thing.
And I've only had two drinks.
The hell you have.
And you touched my breasts!
What's going on here?!
- He's drunk!
- He's drunk.
I told you I took
those drinks to my wife.
I am not drunk!
You were hittin' on me, you ape,
and you most certainly are drunk!
- Okay. That's enough.
- Aah!
No more drinks. That's it.
Hit me.
He's drunk. We need to
take him through the back.
Okay. We're past security.
Mr. Carter, we're on our way to you.
Watch your tempo, Ray.
Allegro vivace.
Half note, whole note, turn to the left.
Are you the guy from the pharmacy?
What took you so long?!
This big guy won't let me past!
- He says he has a delivery.
- I've got it all.
Everything from wet wipes
to adult diapers.
I got your Maalox, your Mylanta,
your Kaopectate.
I got a vaporizer... Those things
don't even all do the same thing!
What's going on?! All I know
is I got a call 45 minutes ago
saying Count someone-or-another
had the runs.
It's for Count Almaviva.
Rolando, he's come down with the flu.
What did he eat?
Maybe he got a bad oyster.
I had a nasty Blue Point once.
Ohh, turned me inside out.
I was playing tango with the toilet
for the better part of a day.
Fascinating as this is, we need
to get you to the Count now.
He's on in 10.
Cue Vontae and Dembe!
Step-ball-change,
step-ball-change, step-ball-change.
Ruddiger, what the hell's going on?
The voice
The heartbreak and sorrow!
- Ah.
- It's a comedy!
No, my sorrow!
When I was a boy, all my friends
wanted to be football players
and racecar drivers,
and I dreamed to be a tenor!
- Oh, dear God.
- This is bad, Ray.
I'm sorry, Raymond. I lost my place!
The music, it took me back!
We're on a clock!
We're timed to the music.
If the detonation doesn't go off
exactly with the applause,
everyone will hear it!
- I'm so sorry!
- Okay, that's it.
Set the charges. Robert, give us a hand.
Ray, we don't have time
to set all the charges.
- He's nearing the end of the aria now.
-
Glen! We have a situation.
What situation?
We're behind, and if we blow
the charges late,
we're gonna have
the police here in seconds.
We need a distraction.
Something loud. Really loud!
- What the hell do you want me to do?
- I don't know, Glen!
That's why you're here!
You wanted a second chance!
This is it! Figure it out!
Think fast! Make some noise!
It's time to make your... Broadway debut.
Fire! Fire!
Everybody out!
There's a grease fire in
the kitchen! It ain't good!
Run for your lives! Run for your lives!
Blow it. Now!
Oh, my God.
The De La Cruz.
It is real.
Now, there's the twinkle in your eye
I've been looking for.
Sir, what on Earth would make
you shout "fire" in the middle
of a crowded theater when
in fact there was no fire?
I thought I smelled smoke.
All I was trying to do was save lives!
I'm telling you,
Keen, he double-crossed us.
We're not getting Vesco or the money.
He gave me his word. I believe him.
- Is that it?
- Last one. Time to roll.
Look, I'll talk to the local PD.
See what they have to say.
I'll talk to fire.
- Mr. Carter.
- You know this guy?
Elizabeth Keen, FBI.
Can I talk to him for a minute?
Hey! What are the odds
of seeing you here?
- You an opera fan?
- Drop the act. Where is he?
Don't know what you're talking about.
Reddington. He was here. How long ago?
Don't lie to me.
You just missed him.
Elizabeth.
- This isn't a good time.
- I'm at the opera house.
Did you enjoy the show?
You got your treasure. Now I want Vesco.
We'll be at Lulu's enjoying
their key lime pie.
I'll get your slice to go.
Sex and treasure.
People will betray for both.
Like you're betraying me now
that I've gotten you the gold.
You can turn me in at Lulu's,
and your revenge will be complete.
It's okay, Ray. I forgive you.
More, I understand.
You were my protégé, Ray. I loved you.
But I took you for
everything you were worth,
and I left you in an Asunción whorehouse,
and I never gave it a second thought.
And now?
Now I'm free.
I have no intention of
turning you in, Robert.
And we're certainly not going to Lulu's.
Place is bursting with tourists,
and their pies are terrible.
We're gonna go find ourselves a nice,
quiet cup of coffee somewhere.
Is it true that you introduced
Nixon's brother to Castro
and then swindled them both
into investing in a bogus drug trial?
And got tossed in a Cuban jail
for my troubles.
Nixon and Castro!
My God! It boggles the mind.
Truck's in the warehouse.
Locked tighter than a clam at hide tide.
Where are the others?
Killin' bourbon on Bourbon Street.
- Why don't you join them?
- Hoo!
Well, boys, I am off for a night
of debauchery in the Big Easy.
Like Blanche DuBois,
I depend on the kindness of strangers.
Cheerio!
Well, I feel like a walk by the river.
That's a great idea.
Oh, I'm afraid I wouldn't
be very good company.
I'm old. I'm tired.
And I'm at peace.
The airport, then.
Tomorrow at 10:00.
I'll drop you wherever you want.
I was filled with vengeance for so long,
I never saw the gift
you gave me in Asunción.
I never trusted anyone easily after that.
That's why I'm still alive.
I'm in your debt, my friend.
Ohh.
Believe me, Ray.
You've more than repaid your debt.
Change of plans.
I just got off the phone with Levi.
I have been honorably discharged.
- I'm, uh, not surprised.
- I am.
During the polygraph test
when he asked me
why I was leaving,
I said it was personal.
I didn't want him to know
the truth, so I lied.
Well, whatever you told him, it's over.
So now we can talk.
About you being pregnant.
Aram... That's what you've been
trying to tell me, isn't it?
So, my parents made this for me
30 years ago for the day I became a dad.
Uh, all I, uh, remember
are the fruit-flies
and the, uh, cheesecloth.
And the fancy crystal that
my mom insists on using
nine months from now when we pop the cork
to celebrate unimaginable love.
I'm not pregnant, Aram.
That was the lie that I told Levi
to cover the truth about my health.
You're not...?
The truth is that I've never
wanted children.
I used to be self-conscious
about that, about the fact
that I didn't have any
kind of maternal instinct.
But I made my peace with it
a long time ago.
And then I met you.
And you changed everything.
And now there's nothing I would
like more than to be pregnant.
Nothing either of us would like more.
But it can't happen.
I can't raise a child.
Ever.
Okay.
Okay?
If you don't think we should have kids,
- then we shouldn't have them.
- You say that now, Aram,
but in a year or five years...
- I'll be saying the same thing.
- No.
Someday you will have regrets,
and I don't want to be the reason why.
Aram, that's why I've
been wanting to talk.
I think you deserve more.
That's quite the little stunt you pulled.
It was, wasn't it?
I was quite pleased with
how it all came together.
Where's Vesco?
- He inside?
- No, he's not.
- The treasure is.
- You let him go.
Turns out, he's reformed.
A reformed fugitive.
Sworn off greed and avarice.
So you commuted his sentence?
Like the President commuted yours?
Yes, and in honor
of his ascetic existence,
I've decided to hand over
$100-something million
worth of 18th-century gold.
You're just gonna give it to us?
Every last doubloon. It's inside.
Or it isn't.
I'm in your debt, my friend.
Ohh. Believe me, Ray.
You've more than repaid your debt.
He's reformed, is he?
"Given up greed and avarice"?
Do you have a phone?
I'm sure he'll be a real ascetic
with your $100 million.
Come on. Take my picture.
It's not often I get egg on my face.
But to be egged by the same person twice?
That needs memorializing.
You think this is funny?
This was a complete waste of time.
Waste of time?
We've been decrypting legends.
Chasing pirates.
Hunting hidden treasure.
And come up empty. We lost Vesco.
How can you lose something you never had?
I gave you a Blacklister
you thought was dead.
Now that you know he's alive,
you can hunt him down.
Plus, you witnessed my humiliation.
I think that would salve any wound.
It doesn't. But it's a start.
Get in here, Dembe.
I see a little yolk on your cheek.
Smile, suckers.
- You're wrong about me.
- How did you find me?
When you said there's nothing I want more
than to have a child.
I mean, that is...
That is what I thought,
what I had always imagined.
Until I met you.
And then you changed everything.
What we have...
This is our story,
and if our story doesn't
involve having kids,
well, that's okay.
I don't need to wait nine months
to celebrate unimaginable love.
And I certainly don't need fancy crystal.
- Aram.
- We are never breaking up. Okay?
Ever. And I don't want any denial
anger, bargaining or depression.
Can you do that for me?
No.
Okay.
Promise me this.
that you'll do everything
humanly possible
to try and get better.
I promise.
It's going to be okay.
Tell me that again.
Everything will be okay.