The Wire (2002–2008): Season 2, Episode 12 - Port in a Storm - full transcript

WAYE news time, 8:05.

It's gonna be partly cloudy, breezy
and warm today with highs around 80.

Right now in Baltimore, sunny skies.

And here's one of my morning favorites.

Yo, Ott. Santo Rey's late?

Squall last night off of Hampton Roads.

76-72 KGA.

KGA, go ahead, 76-72.

Notify Homicide and the OCME.
We got a floater at Patapsco Terminal.

Copy that.

Nothing at Vondopoulos's house?

He's not going back.

He's dumped his Benz and our GPS device
in the downtown garage.

He's off the cellphones.

And there's no text messaging
in Greek either.

The raids, the follow,
one or both sent him underground.

This guy, Stephen Rados? What's he?

He rented the hotel room
for the meet with Vondopoulos.

But checked out right after.

Fitzhugh's running him
through every database.

So far, nothing but a
driver's license in D.C.

Lester. Homicide for you, line 2.

Maybe Sobotka knows him.

When Sobotka comes in today, maybe
he gives us a line on every last Greek.

Freamon here.

Thirteen or so coming across the fax
from VICAP.

All of them John Does.

And that's just headless and handless
in the mid-Atlantic region.

If you wanna go nationwide,
you'll be up over four dozen.

- Fuck me.
- What can I tell you, kiddo?

We are policing a culture in moral decline.
So, you want to come get these?

Or should I have a uniform
run them over to Southeast?

- Run them over to Southeast.
- Okay.

- Have a seat.
- I can't.

Gotta get back out there,
take care of business.

Just wanted to make sure
they were treating you right.

Making the most of it.
I'm catching up on my reading at least.

I just want to let you know
that we got your back.

You know, whoever did
this, we'll find them.

We got you, you understand?

I appreciate the offer,
but that won't be necessary.

Inform Mr. Barksdale that any obligation...

he feels he might have
with regards to this incident...

it's absolved, along with our agreement.

All I'm saying is--

I understand perfectly well
what you're saying.

What I am saying to you is:
I will take care of them myself.

Them?

Who came at you?

Thank you for your concern.

Easy, Nick. Easy.

I'm gonna kill them.
Fucking Greek bastards.

Get out of my fucking way!

Get off of me! Fuck all of you!

He was there for all of you,
and now you're nowhere for him.

What the fuck you gonna do?

Get a gun? Go play gangster?

Like your fucking cousin?

Let's go.

What was she firing, yo?

Dirty Bomb, with a red-top chaser.

Damn, yo. The bomb is the bomb.

Opportunity knocking. Keep a lookout.

He just boosted the whole fucking truck.

Good looking out, Johnny.

At least I remembered to call.

Stabbed repeatedly.

Torso, abdomen,
and they cut his throat to be sure.

Single-edge blade. He fought, too.

Defense wounds on both hands.

Ligature on both legs.

Weighed him down with something,
but it slipped off in the drink.

One, two, three.

Fuck it.
This Sobotka kid knows there's a warrant.

He either turns himself in or not.
Who gives a fuck?

Either we get to him now and roll him, or
he comes into the district with a lawyer.

He comes in with a lawyer, he's less likely
to go for something in the box.

You sound like McNulty now.

We stay with these guys on their cases,
we ain't never gonna get no respect.

You know this.

I figure when the detail's over,
I go back to straight narcotics.

Try to get over to Dawson's shift,
find a new rabbi.

What about you?

Don't know.

I mean, you gotta admit,
Daniels has been okay for us.

I mean, he's there for his troops.

- You gotta be shitting me.
- I just came from the crime scene.

He was coming in as a cooperator.

Offering up the drug-and-prostitution ring
he'd been smuggling for.

The guy lays down with gangsters,
gets up with his throat cut.

Almost feel sorry for the son of a bitch.

You were right about Sobotka.

Case had enough legs on it
that I've got Burrell committed...

to keeping my crew together
as a major case squad working out of CID.

If you are gonna charge him...

I'm gonna charge his narrow ass.

You're gonna do your son-in-law?

You don't think I didn't tell her not to
marry that brain-dead son of a bitch?

I'll tell you the truth, Major.
Everyone who saw the punch wrote on it.

And they've all got Prez
throwing the punch, no question.

But they've also got you addressing
a subordinate officer as a...

What was it? A shitbird?

Fuck you.

This is the Baltimore Police Department,
not the Roland Park Ladies' Tea.

I'm just saying, the other detectives...

the FBI agents,
they gotta write it the way it happened.

I mean, I could probably get my own people
to cheat it for you, but the FBI...

You know how tight-assed they are.

Roland Pryzbylewski rides
the Southeastern desk...

on midnight shift for two months.

During which time he writes
a personal letter of apology...

to everyone seen that punch throwed.

In which he makes it absolutely clear
that it was a penny-cheap sucker punch...

that would've got his ass kicked in
by a real police...

except for the fact that I have
my daughter's feelings to consider.

And then he can come up here
and say the same to my face...

and after that, if he wants
to piss his career away in your unit...

I could give a hairy-ass fuck.

Lieutenant.

Rod, that shit goes into a supplemental.

- You don't put witnesses on a face sheet.
- Officer.

You got something for Freamon?
Homicide sent it over.

Officer, my son wants
to turn himself in on a warrant.

Everybody talks, nobody listens.

Mike, that asshole calls back,
I'm in the shitter.

- Now what can I do for you, gents?
- You got a warrant on me for drugs.

- I'm turning myself in.
- A Southeastern warrant?

He's surrendering.
He's gonna cooperate in any way he can.

- What name am I looking for?
- Sobotka. Nicholas Sobotka.

Morphine? From a city ambo?

You should be ashamed
to be calling me on this one.

- The body came up.
- I saw, on the television.

We weighted him down
pretty goddamn good...

but the water just coughed him back up.

Bad luck, that's all.

Sergei would've done better, I admit.

Niko, the nephew. By now he knows.

Our people wait for him,
but so do the police.

I am thinking...

there's nothing to be done at this point.

What he says, he says.

He knows my name.
But my name is not my name.

And you?

To them, you're only "The Greek."

And, of course, I'm not even Greek.

So we go.

But there's a little business to do first.

There's a shipment on the docks this week.

- One hundred and fifty kilograms.
- And no one to pick it up.

Not just Sergei, I miss Frank, too.

We can't disappear the can.
But maybe we send someone.

Bring it off the docks, legitimate.

Everywhere we go these days,
we seem to be walking into police.

This is telling us something.

You're going to leave 15 million tholaria
to rot on the pier?

Lambs go to slaughter.
A man, he learns when to walk away.

No, we go.

Call the others in.

Let them know there is no longer any point.

We don't wait?

Our friends are still there, no?

- Still here.
- Then go.

Sobotka was a cooperator?

We had preliminary discussions
with him yesterday.

He agreed to post today
with a lawyer, but instead...

So what's left of the case?

We've pulled in everyone caught up
in the wiretaps, save for a couple bodies.

We left the man we think is the number two
for the operation...

on the street,
hoping he'd lead us to number one.

We have people on him?

He's out of pocket at the moment.

Last seen leaving a downtown hotel,
but we expect he'll resurface.

And the union people?

With Sobotka dead, the case right now
is limited to a subordinate or two.

But the important thing
for us is the union.

Either they jettison
their current leadership...

or we have enough
to get that local decertified.

Leaving only me and my 14 bodies.

When do we get to that bit of business?

Lt. Daniels? Line 2. Det. Freamon
insisted I put him through.

In all likelihood, Frank Sobotka
was going to speak to that.

Now, we're a step back, sorry to say.

- Sobotka came in.
- The nephew?

Yeah, he flipped.

Come on, Bubs. You gotta do better
if you wanna walk on this.

- How about some murders?
- How about them?

They're not killing people
in West Baltimore these days?

Been quiet.

Except for that mess
with that young boy who got hit...

with the stray through the window,
ain't been nothing.

- How about that?
- I ain't got nothing on that one.

It's just two crews beefing over a corner.

You know what, Bubs? You going to jail.

How you gonna talk about going to jail?

You hearing this, Johnny?

Like we ain't got history in this room.
Like we ain't friends or nothing.

When you was up in that hospital,
all I did was worry.

"What about Kima? What's up with my girl?"

I'm just happy to see
you're up in the mix...

and you talking about jail and shit.

That's too cold, girl, damn.

Remember that Eastsider
got shot in the high-rises, right?

You remember that shit, right?

I mean, you were right there, Bubbles.

That wasn't shit.
Boy got hit with a rat shot, that all.

- Who you talking about?
- Boy named Cheese.

Him and the other Eastsiders
moved into the Terrace...

took over a couple towers
from the Stringer Bell's boys.

Then some crazy-ass bow-tie nigger
came in and chased his ass home.

And what happened?

Mr. Bow Tie, he ran them off.

He told them Eastsider fools,
"Them towers belong to Avon."

But then he ain't come back no more.

Now them Eastsiders
are back up in there steady slinging.

I mean, it ain't like a war or nothing.

It's like Stringer Bell
and them are sharing.

Sharing?

You guys are on all of it?

You have a public defender
sitting next to you, Mr. Sobotka.

If there's anything about this deal
you don't understand--

They killed my uncle.

I don't need to talk to no one
but you people.

How do you know they did it?

I told...

Spiros calls me
after everybody's getting arrested, right?

Tells me he wants us
to keep our mouths shut...

but Uncle Frank, he says he ain't gonna.

Says he's gonna go talk to the police.

Spiros says that if we keep quiet...

they can help my cousin, Zig, you know?

And now Spiros is saying that...

I don't know, the kid,
the one that didn't die...

the one that got shot...

he's gonna say that the
gun, it wasn't Zig's.

That Glekas pulled the gun,
and it wasn't really Zig's fault.

So your uncle went to meet them
and talk about that?

Under the Key Bridge.

I seen his car was still
there this morning.

I seen that, I fucking knew.

If they killed your uncle to shut him up,
they probably--

Wanna kill me, too?

Shit!

I was gonna go down with him
to the bridge.

I was gonna go down there with him.

He wouldn't...

You were involved in the smuggling?

We didn't know about the girls.

Them girls that got found?

- We didn't know there were girls in there.
- You thought it was drugs?

Drugs, stolen shit, whatever.

We got paid by the can
to creep shit off the docks. That's all.

That and selling the drugs
that you got from The Greek, too, right?

That's your cousin's signed statement.

He put himself in,
talked about buying the gun.

The bill of sale
from the pawn shop is in there, too.

It wouldn't have mattered if the
second victim had backed up on his story.

Your cousin was locked in.

Your uncle was sitting yesterday
right where you're sitting now...

ready to give us everything, if we made
the drug charges go away for you.

And maybe got your cousin
to a better lock-up than Eager Street.

As you can see,
we're willing to honor that deal...

even if it didn't happen for your uncle.

Spiros was the main guy.

He told me and Frank
which cans to disappear...

and then when it came to me and the drugs,
he was the one that hooked that up, too.

The Israeli, he was their drug guy.
I went through him for all my re-ups...

until they passed me off
to White Mike McArdle. You know Mike?

Guess you do.

Double G was in charge of stolen shit.

Anything we could lift from the docks
went straight to his store...

but he's dead,
so why am I wasting your time, right?

Her, I don't know.

My uncle, you know about him.

I don't know
why you got Horse's picture up there.

Horse don't know shit.
I'll testify to that.

What about the Russian?

He drove for them.

Anything that had to come off the docks,
he was their guy.

But I also got the feeling
that if somebody had to get hurt...

he was probably going to be around
for that part of it, too.

Why did you think that?

Sergei, he just carried it like that.

And also, after them
girls died in the can...

they told me that whoever fucked that up...

they had already got to in Philly.

They said that
whoever did that to them girls was dead.

And how did they say it?

They just said, I don't know...

that the guy that you
all was looking for...

he was a dead end.

- A dead end?
- Yeah.

In Philly, they said.

Who's the suit?

You sure?

We know that someone
is above your man Spiros.

Someone he was in communication with.

Yeah, The Greek.

Sure, I know who you mean.
I mean, I don't have a name or nothing.

The man in the suit...

the man with Vondopoulos
in the photograph.

That's not The Greek?

That's The Greek right there.

That the guy?

He picked out an Eastsider, all right.

Cheese runs with Proposition Joe's mob.

Had a few corners off of Ashland,
last I heard.

- What's the verdict?
- He did good for us.

- So I'm out the stat?
- I owe you one, Sanny.

- Both of them?
- Yeah, that one's his valet.

Can I use your bathroom?

Fuck, no. Get out of here.

Bubs, one last question.
How's product in the Towers?

It was shit, now it's right.

Found this guy.
Federal court computer down in D.C.

But not in a bad way.

He's a K Street lawyer down there.

So the suit was only a suit?

On the other hand, my friend,
this is from overseas.

A can on the Adriatica, which docks
the day after tomorrow at Patapsco.

Fake manifest out of Le Havre.

You people got reach.

That's about $300,000 in man-hours
we're holding here.

What's the plan for him?

You gotta call the US Attorney
about witness protection.

We're rounding up his girl and kid.

It's best we keep this as quiet as we can.
We already lost one cooperator.

It's for you.

Daniels.

Lieutenant, Fitzhugh's
calling for WITSEC,

and we're pulling in the
girlfriend and kid.

Okay, thanks.

FBI.

This is Special Agent Terrence Fitzhugh,
Baltimore field office.

- May I speak with Agent Koutris, please?
- Who?

Agent Koutris.

He's no longer
with the San Diego field office.

Where's he at?

You could try headquarters in Washington.
Counterterrorism.

Counterterrorism? For how long?

I'd have to check, but I'm sure
he's been gone from here more than a year.

Either he comes home
in the next five minutes, or I eat my gun.

I'm just saying, this is not the way...

me and you learned how to do it
in West Baltimore.

Not by a fucking long shot!

Either your son surrenders
within the hour...

or all the police will come
crashing through this door twice a day...

for as long as it takes you people
to get the message. You hear me?

We will take this door once in the morning
and once at night, and toss your house...

until there isn't any furniture
with more than three legs left on it.

Officer, my son turned himself in
to the police last night.

At Southeastern.
A detective was there at the time.

- A detective?
- Motherfucker. Come on.

Don't use the phone.

There'll be an agent posted outside.
If you go anywhere, go with him.

What a dump.

You wanted us to get a place, right?

If they got to him in Philly...

then they probably dumped
the body in that area, right?

No use in dragging a headless torso around
further than you need.

Good God.

I bet you there's a police detective
somewhere else...

looking at a table full of heads right now.

In that stuff that we took off the ship,
did we keep any photos?

Couple of pictures of one guy
that left his gear, yeah.

They're at ECU.

You two should get on the road.
Get up there before the offices close.

Where y'all been at?

I'm saying, though, Butchie,
something just ain't feel right.

The man didn't even know
what I was saying.

So I just eased off.

- You think brother played me?
- No.

Y'all can't read lying eyes
after all these years...

then I'd be talking to a dead man.

You saying Stringer told you...

the brother had something to do
with your boy Brandon?

Yeah.

Near as I know, Brother Mouzone
spends most of his time up north.

New York and Philly.

If Avon contracted him to get at you...

the brother wouldn't have stop coming
until you two were bumped.

It's my fault.

I should've said no to Prop Joe
from the get-go.

Avon's father was plain evil,
and the son ain't no better.

Neither is Stringer,
now that we making a list.

I'm going hard after Stringer.

No point in trying
to talk you back down, I suppose.

You been my bank for how long
and gonna ask me something like that?

How you gonna get at him?

I don't even know, Butch.

Take some time and think on it.

One thing for sure, though,
the man got to be got, you feel me?

What you see, Butch?

Too much, boy.

Too damn much.

A lot happened overnight.

Not to us.

- Look, this isn't personal--
- Fucking-A, right.

We're not even people in this unit.
We're your goddamn pack mules.

"Sit on this house,
transport this mope, wait for that one."

That's part of the job.

The job had a little more rip-and-run
to it, the way I remember it.

These cases are more than that.

We're putting people in jail
with phone taps and typewriters.

So you're saying we ain't up to it.

I saw on the postings that Major Colvin
needs a sergeant in the Western.

Flex squad.
And the last time I checked, I had stripes.

Eastside, Westside.

Cats and dogs, sleeping together.

Shit. I'm late for something.

You say you want everybody
that came on the port that day?

No, we're looking for anything
out of the ordinary. Probably at night.

Oh, unusual. You should've said so.

- What you asked for before--
- That's what we...

You're right, sir, absolutely right.
Just see if there's anything like that.

Nope, all I got is usual.

All right.
Any way you could give us the name...

of the security officer
that was on this pier that night?

What was that date again?

February 5.

You had the Atlantic Light on that pier
from 6:00 p.m.

That was Walt. Walt Stokes.

Is he working tonight?

It's Tuesday. Walt's off on Tuesdays.

What do you want Walt for?

See if he can make any of these.

Wouldn't do much good.

Afraid Walt's not as up to speed
as the rest of us.

Seeing as you've come
all this way, though...

you might want to have a look-see
at the videotapes.

$300 for a stroller?

I know, I know.
Cost more than your first car, right?

A hooptie, no doubt?

We're so gonna need one of these.

Look at this, Kima.

Blue's Clues juice box holder.

If the kid can't hold on to a little old
box without no help, we got problems.

Okay, listen.

This baby is gonna come out of my belly
and need both of us, forever.

You understand?

I mean, it may not be real for you yet.

But, goddamn it, it's real for me.

Nick.

What's gonna happen, Nicky?

That can on the fifth wheel there.

By the plan, it's a hot box,
but there's no one on a pick-up.

- Where's it from?
- Le Havre, France.

Fuck it, then. Dump her.

Lester, the drug talk coming
from Proposition Joe's people...

before the warehouse phone came down.

Those were for steady re-ups, right?

We weren't up on that wire long,
but, yeah, three weeks in a row.

How much?

Five or six La-Z-Boys
at a clip, to start.

Last call to Eton's cellphone,
the re-up went to 12.

He doubles his re-up to 12 kilos?

That's her right there.

They ain't doing the dirt, though.

Team leader,
keep an eye on that can till we post.

Copy.

Sorry to hear about my boy Sergei.

Eton, too.

You lost some good people.

There'll be some new faces soon.

A week or so. They'll find you.

Just as they'll find the others
that work with us.

A week?

I ain't got enough of your good shit
to last much past that.

You got anything to lay off
before you leave?

The last shipment is lost.

Lost? How you mean?

The police may be sitting on it.

You ain't sure?

There's more where that came from.

Always, there is more.

All right, then.

I'm gonna let your new people find me.

Have a safe trip.

Where you say you off to again?

There's 12 in this, 15 in that.

And if the rest of them
holds this same pattern...

Maybe 200 kilos of raw left on the pier.

The Greeks are definitely in the wind.

And we are in the dark.

You want us to take it down
to the customs shed, or what?

No, you're gonna seal it up and sit on it.

If we're lucky, someone will come
calling in a day or so.

You that lucky?

If they didn't get onto us when they did,
this might've been a hell of a case.

It's on you.

Ambushed? In his own goddamn room?

Yeah, he gonna be all right, but he--

I don't give a fuck
about how he gonna be, man.

You put on out-of-town talent
at a high price...

you expect them
to get the motherfucking job done.

He said that thing between us is...

How did he put it? Absolved.

Absolved? What the fuck do that mean?

Mouzone booked out,
we worse off than when he came.

If word gets out on the street
that we weak like this...

how the fuck we supposed
to maintain our shit?

I know, but we gotta hit right back,
make a statement.

But Mouzone not saying who did this.

- You asked him who it was?
- Yeah, I asked him.

- Why?
- Why what?

How you gonna ask a soldier like Mouzone
a question like that?

Either he gonna say,
or he gonna go and work it out.

Either way,
you ain't got to be asking him shit.

Man, every market-based business
runs in cycles...

and we going
through a down-cycle right now.

String, this ain't about
your motherfucking business class either.

It ain't that part of it.
It's that other thing.

The street is the street. Always.

Man, we gonna get through
this bullshit anyway.

No doubt. You just need to
hold tight till I get uptown.

And that day gonna come, but until then...

we gotta do what we can do,
when we can do it.

Yeah, you need to go to Prop Joe.

I ain't gonna argue with you.

You run it as you see fit.

At least until I get home, you do.

No doubt.

Us, man.

Us.

- Tape is fucked up.
- It's multiplexed.

It's a way to save money.

Instead of one camera, one VCR...

it's 10 cameras playing on one VCR tape.

- Can you make sense of it?
- Not a problem, with this software.

- We just de-plex it.
- De-plex?

Let me show you the highlight reel.

- Is he flashing a badge?
- Looks like it.

That's something you don't see too often...

John Law in a Mercedes-Benz.

That could be our boy.

Head still on.

Tell me we got cameras inside.

Jesus, my pants are wet.

Yeah. C'mon, baby.

Yeah.

Re-up gonna be about a week or so late.

My people are having to readjust
to some shit.

A week?

No later than that, they say.

How it go with Avon today?

It's all good.

Our old friend.

What's the news?

Port cops are sitting on a can
that came off the Adriatica.

Word around the customs shed,
it's full of dope.

I mean, about Frank.

- What's the district council saying?
- Gentlemen.

Mr. Pakusa, in light
of your pending indictment...

I'd think you'd stay as far away
from this hall as possible.

Ain't y'all got some place to go?

Just came to make it clear...

that if there's no cleaning up in here...

this local will be decertified.

Instead of your union
running out of this office...

it'll be a federal magistrate
down the courthouse deciding things.

Take the opportunity to
elect new officers...

or the US Attorney will padlock the door.

And you'll be outside, looking in.

One man, one vote.

Did he have hands? Did he have a face?

Yes? Then it wasn't us.

You don't think that had anything to do...

with this mope?

You gotta do better than that, Lester.

This poor guy ain't got a face.

Did I mention the DNA matches?

This has nothing to do with me.

Is that the security guard?

Walt Stokes. A good man.

Keeps meticulous records.

Bunk, they tell me
you can enhance each frame...

to get a clear look.

Yeah? Show it to me.

I'll be damned. Maryland tags.

Juliet-Lima-Yankee...

5-4-5.

That comes back to a BWI rental.

I wonder who rented it.

This is aggravated murder and kidnapping.

In this state, it's a death penalty case.

I didn't kill him.

I was there, but I didn't kill him.

Vondas did.

He cut his throat.

The shepherd was supposed
to watch over the women.

Instead, he used them to make money.

One of the women, she fought.
She was killed.

And this idiot kills the rest
to make no witnesses.

He had to die.

You want a coffee? Soda?

Vodka.

Coffee.

They're down. All 14 of them.

Abated by the untimely death
of a known suspect.

Plus another clearance
on a John Doe case, just for laughs.

You wanna tell Rawls?

Let him stew a while longer.

One thing, though,
we should do right away.

Who's the man above Vondas?

The Greek.

What's his name?

You want a chance at anything
less than death row...

you're gonna tell me right now...

whatever it is you know
about where those bastards might be.

A hotel at the harbor.

This one?

Another.

I can show you.

Go.

Clear!

Business or pleasure for you?

Business. Always business.

- What did you forget?
- Nothing important.

You come to the bar without me?

Kiss my black cat's sister's ass.

- What happened?
- Case hit the wall.

How so?

The Sobotka nephew breaks for
the smuggling and the drugs.

The Russian breaks for the murder
that fucking killed my girls.

We were late on Vondopoulos
and The Greek.

- How late?
- They skipped.

We got interstate flight warrants out,
but from what the Sobotka kid says...

these guys collect passports.

We ain't even got a name
for The Greek yet, right?

What're we doing
with the drug end of the case?

I guess we could offer up Dixon
and Prop Joe to Narcotics.

See if they want
to follow through on their end.

I don't know.

I wouldn't be so quick
to throw Joe back into the pond.

A major case squad could have some fun
with that mess, don't you think?

Lieutenant.

I never told you this.

In fact, if you tell anyone
I ever told you this...

I'll finish my career
in fucking Montana or some shit.

Excuse me, sorry.

The leak wasn't your people.

When I called around
looking for info on your targets...

I used the FedCom software, you know?

I thought I was talking
to some fuck in San Diego.

The 9/11 boys in D.C.

I'm guessing Vondopoulos
or The Greek was an asset to them.

Hooked up like, I don't know,
who knows what?

I'm sorry, Lieutenant.

World just keeps turning, right?

You guys move on to something new.
No one looks back.

It's on me this time.

Anyone?

Where are you going?

Work.

Frank, you cocksucker.

- I can take it from here.
- You sure?

No one fucks with us on our turf.

Where the fuck else am I gonna go?
How's it looking?

One ROIRO at North Point.
Graybeards grabbed that.

Nothing else today, really.

Seniority sucks.

If you ain't senior.

All right, man.

This is a great day for Baltimore.

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