The Wire (2002–2008): Season 2, Episode 9 - Stray Rounds - full transcript

WMD. Got that WMD here.

I'm looking for what you had the other day.

This shit right here?

The other day you was
calling it bin Laden.

But now it's WMD.
It will mass destruct your ass.

So this the hi-test?

Same shit, new name.

You be all right.

Okay, get dressed.

I pressed you some clothes
and laid them out upstairs.

And don't forget that book bag neither.

You got your chrome, young one?

I'll take mine.

Y'all mind the crossfire, you hear?

Let's go.

They coming up the alley!

They coming back!

Aim for the chest, brother, you hear me?

Slide up.

You get down on that floor and stay there,
you hear?

- You hear me, boy?
- Okay, Mama.

Come on!

Fuck!

Shit!

- Why you running?
- What the fuck?

Oh, shit!

Hit that nigger cold.

Bitches!

Why you hiding?

Drama done with, boy.

You gotta get your bags
and get yourself to school.

Get in, damn it!

T.T., you hear me?
Come on now. The drama's done.

Get your bags and get yourself to school.

I told you, you gotta get ready...

No!

They're changing up?

Looking for my La-Z-Boys.
Five of them you got for me, right?

- That shipment is tomorrow.
- Got it.

That's what the Newkirk warehouse
was giving us a few days back.

Straight, to-the-point drug talk.
No muss, no fuss.

Now listen.

Pyramid, Inc. May I help you?

You got them Davinas or what?

I'm told we no longer
carry that line, sir.

Between me, Kima, Herc and Carver...

we been sitting on that warehouse
every minute...

since we followed that truck off the docks.

No players coming in or going out.
No drug-related traffic at all.

To top it off,
Sobotka hasn't used his cellphone since.

- We tipped our hand somewhere.
- That second can, maybe.

The port police making a traffic stop
on their cargo must've spooked them.

If that's what did it,
we fucked ourselves over nothing.

They dumped that can as a misdelivery.

- What?
- They probably changed that up, too.

If they think we're onto them...

they switch the can themselves,
just to be safe.

And it goes off the docks
with some bullshit inside...

- just to see if we pull them up.
- Which we did.

Which I did.

No, they're not on us completely.

If they were, they'd be shutting
that warehouse down and rolling out.

Instead, they're just sitting inside
that place, turning away calls...

waiting us out.

I, for one, am a patient motherfucker.

Don't waste film.

I been here so fucking long
that you're starting to look good to me.

Anything?

The drugs go in, they gotta come
out, right? I mean, what the fuck?

Little late.

When a 9-year-old kid hit the pavement...

a district commander would be there
within minutes.

I guess we're living in a brave new world.

I was in Washington with Burrell
when I heard.

D.C.? What for?

Burrell took some district commanders
down to DOJ with him...

pimping ourselves for a little grant money.

So what do we got?

Nine-year-old in his bedroom...

catches a seeing-eye stray
through the window.

- Dead?
- Pronounced at University.

- Witnesses?
- No one offering a name...

but the general theme
is two crews arguing over the real estate.

We got casings from at least
three different calibers on the ground.

We're gonna canvass hard,
but your people and Tactical...

should hit the area drug corners
and collect bodies.

Fucking pointless.

We jack up enough shitbirds,
this case can fall.

I ain't talking about that. I know the
drill. I'm talking about this whole mess.

Been chasing this shit from one
corner to the next like it's a plan.

Hit the corners, Howard. Take scalps.

You'll feel better when you do.

You told us about WorldCom
and the name change-up, right?

- You said that--
- I said change the name of our product.

I didn't say nothing
about taking people off a corner.

We done changed the name
of that weak shit so many times...

that don't nobody come down
to the Towers no more.

And them Carrollton boys had it going on.

Who shot the young one?

I don't know. I don't think it was us.

Them other niggers was going wild, though,
I mean--

You know, the cops are gonna have to
bang some heads on this one.

They got to.

That means we gotta shut everything down
until this shit pass.

That means the Towers, the low-rises.

Everything gotta take
a long fucking time-out!

I know, String.

I'm sorry, man.

Let me tell you something, man.

This here game,
it's more than the rep you carry...

the corner you hold.

You gotta be fierce, I know that.

But more than that,
you gotta show some flex.

Give and take on both sides.

- You hear me?
- Yeah.

All right, anything that fired a bullet
out on that corner...

has gotta disappear, you understand me?

I'm not talking about the storm drains.

Call that nigger Shamrock and drive
all that chrome over to the harbor.

All right.

Coming up.

I got people waiting on
a package from me...

but Sergei says
that until we're sure about the police...

We're not going to be doing that business
for a few days.

Your uncle, he is right to be careful.

But, Niko...

if you are going to be doing this,
you should not be talking to us about it.

Why not?

We are more, what you call, wholesalers.

I'm kind of small-time, huh?

You are not so big,
but you're among friends.

Call that number.

- Talk to him.
- Mike?

This White Mike?

- You know him?
- From Curtis Bay.

I went to Southern High School
with the guy.

You are with us now,
so he will be fair. No problem.

Now, for the rest of our business...

We will disappear these containers.
All of them clean.

Take them to Newkirk Street.

If there is a problem,
they will stop the trucks...

or we will see the police.

If not, no more worries.

All right.

We are off the warehouse phone now?

All day yesterday,
I was giving the new number to our people.

This is bullshit.

If they were onto the truck,
then they would've searched it, no?

Five-O!

Where you guys going?
Come on, you know the deal.

Get the fuck up against the wall! Hurry up!

Come on, keep moving.

Get him. Down.

This is bullshit, man.
You know I ain't did nothing, man.

Everybody gets the special
downtown at central booking:

one baloney sandwich and one white milk.

- Just shut the fuck up.
- Man, I'm clean, you hear me?

- What are you doing in the Pit then?
- Saying no to drugs.

Don't just say no to drugs, motherfucker.
Say, "No, thank you."

Put your fucking head down,
step up and get in.

Sit down right here, stupid.
Watch your head going in.

Slide over, asshole.

Shame a kid had to get killed
before we got around to doing this.

What exactly is it that we're doing?

Young boy killed over bullshit.

Now you got the police
crawling all the way up your ass.

It's a good day to be an Eastside nigger,
I gotta say.

Thing is, it ain't gonna happen like that
if I take you up on your offer.

I'll be out there selling that real.

My boys ain't gonna be scuffling.

They ain't gonna be
scuffling or standing on

nobody's else's corner,
starting no shit.

You're Westside.

You must've heard of
Charlie Sollers, right?

No.

Goes all the way back
to Franklin and Fremont.

I mean, all the way back
to the '60s and shit.

- Sollers?
- Sold heroin like it was water.

I mean,
the motherfucker made himself some money.

I don't know who the
fuck you talking about.

I know you don't.

And the police don't.

And the stick-up boys
wouldn't have a fucking clue either.

'Cause Charlie Sollers just sold dope.

No profile, no street rep.
Just buy for $1, sell for $2.

Sometimes, when your back up
against the wall, you go to the gun.

I know. I been there.

But you ain't gotta live by it.

Avon's a soldier.

That's who you want with you
when the shit fly.

But as far as business go...

- You still got that connect?
- Right off the boat, String.

All right.

I'm gonna buy from you
at the price you paying...

and I'll let you walk that shit
straight in the Towers.

You can have 734, 770 and 221.

I keep the other three.

How you gonna tell it to Avon?

It makes sense, don't it?

He gonna hear something
when it makes sense.

Right?

No shit.

- I thought you was in with Nicky.
- Fuck Nick.

He said you was his other half.

I don't want his fucking money.
I mean, that's drug money.

And fucking drugs are bad, right?

I mean, you gotta consider
what that shit does to the community.

You spent all last year with White Mike.
You remember that?

A man can grow.

Besides, I got a caper in mind
that is gonna put that horseshit to shame.

I'm telling you.

You want in?

- What do I gotta do?
- What a longshoreman does best, Johnny.

Zig, your duck won't touch
the Pikesville rye?

He drinks mid-shelf.
He don't like that rail shit.

Fuck if I wouldn't give my right leg
for a shot and a beer.

New Charles in the house.

- Moving pretty good.
- Waiting on a prosthetic.

You got a decent lawyer?

Nat Coxson hooked me up
through the union.

What's with the duck?

- You know you gotta let go of your name.
- Say what?

Yeah, New Charles don't work no more
for a one-legged fuck.

Yeah, maybe "Stump."

You know what? "Peg."

"New Peggy."

- How about "Tilt"?
- Tilt?

Tilt. Just like a pinball machine.

Tilt. I like that.

Yeah, I called a couple of nights ago.

Told you I might be in town tonight,
remember?

- So, this is your first time?
- Yep, first time for me.

What do you do, Jimmy?
Are you the police?

- Do you work with the police?
- No. Christ, no.

No, I'm a traveling salesman.
I travel and, you know...

- Where do you live?
- I'm not gonna tell you that.

I live out of town.

I'm sorry.
I don't think we can help you tonight.

Thank you.

You sucked. I mean, really.

Fuck if I thought
I was gonna be interrogated.

I mean, Christ,
I'm just a guy looking to get laid, right?

Hey, fucknuts.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Christ, Ziggy.

Jesus, Zig. What the fuck?

What's up with my cousin?

Don't even talk to me about that asshole.

- Drank himself to death.
- Oh, shit.

What kind of fool
would give a duck whiskey anyhow?

That boy ain't right.

And his fucking bird
couldn't hold liquor for shit.

La-Z-Boys?

And Davinas. Male and female.

Dope and coke.

- What the hell is a Davina?
- It's like a love seat, kind of.

- Any line on weight?
- All whole numbers.

- No halves, quarters, eight-balls?
- Ounces?

What kind of numbers
they putting on the furniture?

Nothing much above five.

Proposition Joe has Ashland
all the way up to North.

Ten corners, easy.
Five ounces wouldn't last him past lunch.

It's kilos. We're on the main stem.

- What was coming and going last night?
- Not much.

No trucks in, some cars in and out...

but none of the drug players
we saw rolling up there before.

Whatever was in that last truckload
probably went out in car trunks.

They're doing their distribution
somewhere else for now.

Which is why job one
is to get back to a good phone.

The same PC
that got you on that warehouse phone...

will get you anywhere else you want to go.

All we need is the new number.

Verizon running
any new lines in there lately?

We talked to the phone security people.
They say no.

Probably going to a cellphone.

Best bet is to get the new number
off the Russian's cellphone.

Okay, then.

Freamon and Prez,
stay on one shift in the wiretap room.

Bunk and Russell, man the other.

Herc and Carver,
you guys are on Newkirk Street...

waiting to see
if the warehouse traffic picks back up.

McNulty and Greggs
have a line into the prostitution ring.

But so far, the people
handling the girls...

have been a little cautious
about fresh johns.

So we're gonna need a new angle there.

Questions?

What was your play with those girls?

Out-of-town salesman.

- How far out of town?
- What do you mean?

The farther out of town,
the more they believe.

Less like a cop you sound.

You do any accents?

English, British, Scottish,
something like that?

Crikey!

I was looking to get a
little hanky-panky...

and this one bloke gave me this number
to call when I got across the pond.

Work on it, son.

$200,000?

That isn't a quarter of what they owe.

They say they will pay another $200,000
once their shipment clears the docks.

- And then?
- That is all.

These Colombians
are without honor, Spiros.

They are cheats.

- The chemicals we sent are good, no?
- No complaint.

They say they want more, even.

And they understand that we can guarantee
their product gonna clear Customs?

Right.

- And still, they try to chisel.
- Why?

What are they thinking?

That it is all profit for us.

That we will settle
for half of what we agreed...

because $400,000 is still a lot of money.

The Greek will be angry.

This is business, Eton.

The Greek? He will be smart.

Jesus.

You accidentally shoot one 9-year-old
in his bedroom...

and the whole city gets its undies
in a bunch.

To err is human, that's what I like to say.

The mayor went to the scene
for the cameras last night.

Said the crime will not stand.

Tell the mayor we're still working
without an eyeball witness.

How about the street talk?

I got some mentions of a 17-year-old
with the streetname Bodie.

Narcotics has him as Preston Broadus.

And why is young Preston
not being hurled with great abandon...

around one of our interrogation rooms?

We got cars on his grandma's as we speak.

What the fuck you think
you're dealing with here? Amateurs?

Fuck Nick. This is my thing.

You want in, you gotta deal with me.

All right, I got S-Class
and SL-Class Benzes.

Roadsters, sedans, cabriolets.

I got them brand new,
with the keys in the ignition.

Nothing stripped.

- Off the docks?
- No shit, off the docks.

What the fuck do I look like,
a fucking car dealer?

Twenty on the dollar.

But if we're gonna do this, I'm gonna
need you to order a minimum of three.

Or else it ain't worth it for me.

Now, base price on an S430
starts at $73,000.

You round it,
I get $15,000 for each car that you want.

A stolen car is a stolen car.

Without title,
who is going to pay even $10,000 for it?

Sure, in Baltimore, maybe.
But where you're from...

I'll bet you got family
that don't give two fucks...

whether or not an American car
got a title on it.

Man, it would be a sad state of affairs...

if an international entrepreneur
such as yourself...

didn't know what to do
with a couple of extra Mercedes.

Big night for Jimmy McNulty.

Or should I say
James Cromwell of Knightsbridge...

Stepney and Mersey.

Excuse me?

Cromwell was the English fuck
who stole my ancestors' land...

and the other ones
are all from rock 'n' roll songs.

Anyways, 10:00 tomorrow night...

the shuttle comes for me
on the parking lot off Russell Street.

Good work.

We'll get Greggs to wire you up
and set the surveillance.

Shame we're not up
on a good phone right now.

Be nice to tickle the wire
when we raid the brothel.

A little luck,
maybe we get back up before then.

One other thing.

I'm bothered that a Russian immigrant
this deep in dirt...

doesn't have anything
in a law enforcement computer.

You still got that friend over in Woodlawn?

I'd like to know what the FBI has
in its database.

After that meeting on the Barksdale case...

I made a point of pissing him off,
remember?

So what? You do that to everybody.

This is George Glekas.

He's the cat who owns the appliance store
where that second can landed.

Run his ass, too.

Why not just cut another guy in
and run them out the bobtail lane?

These babies start disappearing
and everybody on the terminal...

is gonna suspect an inside job.

We're gonna need bolt cutters
for the fence...

and then we're gonna need
enough wood beams...

to make a track across the grass
onto the road.

Why bother?

We can run them cars over that
little patch of grass, no problem.

That ain't the plan.

I just saw a can disappear.

- Talco line?
- Pakusa working it?

- It's him. Do we try to follow?
- We know where it's going, right?

12-08, you copy?

12-08, what's up?

We got a can that might be coming to you
off the port.

Can number: Paul-Mike-Quebec-Victor...

4-0-0-7-6-5, check digit two.

- What do you want us to do with it?
- See if it arrives.

And if it does?

See what happens then.

You wanna know something, Carv?

I'm starting to think
that as criminal investigators...

we're not really respected.

That ain't necessary, Jimmy.

I knew we were fucking the dog
on that Barksdale thing.

Who do I tell?

We got this new ASAC,
thinks it's all about loyalty and ass-kiss.

And believe me, this
ain't like your agency.

You piss them off, you ride the boat.

Here...

you come into work one morning,
you find yourself assigned...

to some fucking dustbowl
Indian res in Arkansas.

- Still, I was out of line, Fitz.
- Fuck it.

What you got there, brother?

White boys. A different look for you.

Funny thing is, they're all showing clean.
What's the chance of that?

Anyways, NCIC and NADDIS are a dead end.

Customs had a little intel
on this guy, Glekas.

You said Customs had intel on him?

Should show here.
Let me try something else with it.

This'll give us any contact your boy
might have had with us, agency-wide.

Got something out of San Diego.

- On Glekas?
- We'll see.

I make a long distance
call to Hyattsville...

I need three forms
and a lieutenant's approval.

Yes, Agent Ernest Koutris, please.

Believe me,
we ain't short on paperwork here either.

Agent Koutris?

Not much to it.

We pulled his chain in a stolen goods case
I worked in '95, '96.

He was just crumbs, so no charges.
But I did an interview.

The guy struck me
as just a mope playing it slick.

Yeah, if you want, I can
send you what I got.

All right.

If you need it, let me know.

We need to talk.

Anyone following?

Run up and down the street.
Take tag numbers from cars.

- All week I've done it. Nothing.
- Again.

The truck is here.

Lester, it's here.

They offload anything?

Not yet.

Okay, wait on it.

See, the thing about it, Preston,
is that you're unbelievably stupid.

You are.

I don't say it to upset you.
Just to state a fact.

He doesn't think so.

Nobody ever thinks they're stupid.
It's part of the stupidity.

You don't need to tell us
what happened on that corner.

We know what happened.

We got you, we got your guns,
we got the whole fucking story.

Where that lawyer at, man?

See, you just fucked up.

Way you looked at the bag,
you know what's in there, don't you?

That's you, right there, fucking up.

- I don't know what you talking about.
- No, you fucked up.

We even got your prints on one of the guns.
We even got that.

Which one?

That's you right there.

Lawyer.

They were asking about me?

San Diego.

San Diego was a long time ago.

Our friend in Washington
does not know why.

Only that the people asked.

You told me the police
looking into the women were local.

They were.

No FBI.

We've been running only clean containers?

Yes. And no one watches, no one follows.

No one stops anything.

And we changed the warehouse phone?

A day or two more,
and we are back to business.

We watch, we are careful.
But we are back to business.

You will have to do a favor
for our friend, no?

Fair is fair.

The Colombians, I think.

They take our chemicals
and pay less than promised.

Down there,
I understand everyone is a terrorist now.

Judges are killed.
Bombs go off in the street. It's very bad.

The Colombians who cheated us,
they're not with the guerrillas.

They're trash.

The world is a smaller place now.

And the FBI cares very much
about such things.

Fair is fair.

Sergei's making a call.

If there is no problem,
then bring in the La-Z-Boys.

I will meet you there.

Recognize that voice?

That's the man
from the warehouse phone, right?

- That's the same guy?
- Same guy, new number.

- Who you calling?
- Pearlman, at home.

Another affidavit,
and we're back on the main stem.

Shit is raw, String.

I mean, you can stomp on this motherfucker.

All right.

So, when them police stop
busting heads up in them Towers...

you all let Prop Joe's people
take hold of three of them.

All right.

Okay, add the DNR stuff to the boilerplate,
and you're there.

Start connecting the dots...

and you have to start asking yourself
what these guys aren't into.

Drugs, women, stolen goods. All of them.

FBI didn't have much.

A little something out of San Diego
on Glekas...

in a stolen goods case
that was closed out.

San Diego?

These guys move around.

- What's with the suit?
- Date night.

The undercover at the brothel.

Run like hell, ma'am.

We wanna be up on that phone, so we
hear what we hear after tonight's raid.

Who's the affiant?

Can you get the SL-series in Pacific blue?
That would be best.

Whatever you need, chief.

I don't give a damn
about the color of this one.

Whatever you have.

Ain't a problem.
They all just gotta have sunroofs.

It's a long story.

Next Tuesday would be good for us.
A ship comes Wednesday early, so...

Listen...

you think I can get an advance on this?

I got some expenses right now,
and I'm a little tapped.

- I'm just asking.
- Payment on delivery.

Don't worry about it, chief.

I would never even dream of cheating
a smart businessman like yourself.

It ain't enough that I gotta be the one
thinking this whole shit through.

That I gotta be the one
looking out for this shit and that shit.

Checking up on this,
making sure this shit is done.

No, that's not enough.

That's why they be paying
them fucking CEOs so much damn money.

Because when the shit fall bad,
it all fall bad on them.

Everybody else can be ducking and hiding,
doing what they fucking wanna do.

But when push come to shove...

I'm the one
who's got to take that responsibility...

and y'all are leaving me
very little to work with right now.

- Hold up, String--

- No, that's a very
simple thing, my nigger.

You drive the guns to the water.

You look around, you ain't see anybody,
you throw the guns.

In the water.

Splash.

Now, get the fuck out of here, man.

Except you, young one.

You ain't say shit back there?

No, they fucked up when they told me
my prints was on one of them guns, right?

And I wiped them shits down myself.

And the one they said was mine
wasn't even.

If they would've had anything past my name,
they would've kept me, right?

- All right.
- All right, String.

Lock that door.

You got a bolt cutter?
'Cause I'm gonna need a good one.

Got two in the window there.

You hung this on a duck?

Of course.

$1,200.

Fair enough.

- Nick.
- It's been a while, Mikey.

Yeah, it has.

But your name
has been ringing out in my mind lately.

Yeah?

My man called.

Said you was gonna take a re-up from me.

Yeah, that's what they told me, too.

Nicky Sobotka, living the life.

Who fucking knew?

- So how much you looking for?
- Two or three G-packs a week.

I was getting that shit
from the Greek's people.

- Four each.
- Four?

I wholesale for five, man.

I don't know.

They told me
you were gonna be straight with it.

Sergei. What up, dawg?

I got a friend of yours here
says we're giving Gs at four.

Yeah?

All right, fuck it. Yeah, it's fine.

Another thing.

I wanna know it wasn't your people...

dropped that body over on Potee Street
the other night, you know?

I'm asking 'cause it was someone
with some Greek-ass name...

and fuck if he wasn't dumped
in front of a house I was using.

Did he have hands? Did he have a face?

Yes? Then it wasn't us.

Idiot.

You got friends in high places, Nicky.

- Four a pack for you.
- All right, cool.

Thank God for the Russian's cellphone.

They might be laying off
the warehouse line,

but at least he ain't
changing that up.

Did he have hands? Did he have a face?

Yes? Then it wasn't us.

- What the fuck is that?
- It's a man's purse.

European men like yourself
sometimes carry one.

Them people ain't right over there.

The mike has to go somewhere.

Besides, you might have hands all over you
before we get what we need.

Indeed I might, luv.

It'll be your call
when we come through the doors.

You want us in, you say... What was it?

"Spot on." It means "exactly."

And remember, they have to bring up
the money and the sex first...

then an overt attempt to engage.

Spot on.

Detective Freamon with Baltimore Homicide.

Listen, what do you guys have
in VICAP for male victims...

headless or faceless,
and missing both hands?

Middle Atlantic region probably.

$4.5 million in the capital budget
that's set to pass House and Senate both.

Money'll be allocated
for the fiscal period next year.

Congratulations, Frank.

What kind of stevedore drinks champagne?

So, Nat, about the election.

I just need one more year
to bring the dredging home.

That's what I need.

Ott's turn, Frank.

This is Agent Koutris
of the FBI down in Washington.

He's with the counterterrorism people
down there.

- Terrorism?
- He needs our help tonight.

11-34, what's your 20?

I'm at the overpass on Wicomico.

Copy that.

Okay, we're on here.

Good evening.

Paint pigments.

They ship them in
for the SCL plant down at Fairfield.

It's in there somewhere.

Run it.

Same consistencies on all the barrels.

- Nothing else in there, really.
- Nothing but the pigments.

- What's going on?
- I don't know nothing, Horse.

Swear to God.

Tonight, I'm just a dumb white boy
from Locust Point.

You know,
I'm saying this out of respect, Brie.

I love the man like my brother,
but when it comes to something like this...

he gonna listen to you
more than he listen to me.

You think so?

All I put in his ear about my son
didn't do a damn thing, now, did it?

All them times I told him
that he needed to do more for D'Angelo...

and what happened?

He feel for that.

He feel for you.

I know he didn't see it coming.

- None of us seen it coming.
- I did.

I swear, I saw it.

He ain't listen to me then.
Why the hell you think he gonna listen now?

'Cause we got a weak product...

and we holding on to prime real estate
with no muscle.

I don't got Wee-Bey, Stinkum, Bird.

Now look, I know that your heart is heavy.

I know.

But them wolves is at that door.

As long as them Towers are still standing,
I am, too.

And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let
everything we fought for go to shit.

So I'll talk to him.

Mr. Cromwell.

Decisions, decisions.

Would it be wrong to take two?

Attaboy.

We should get upstairs.

Nothing but paint pigments.

Trust me, old friend. It's there.

Son of a bitch!

Okay, then.

Right.

Maybe, we could talk about this first?

Any time you guys want.

The money changed hands, right?

Sounded that way.

- And they talked about sex?
- Definitely.

Any time you guys want.

Hang on.

Oh, God.

Is it soup yet?

Spot something. Spot on it.

Let's go.

- Whoa.
- Why?

We're supposed to take the door
and get in quick.

Calm the fuck down.

It ain't like they gonna flush
a half dozen whores down the toilet.

- Who is it?
- Baltimore police.

- What do you want?
- To lock your ass up.

Hands. Let me see them.

- Two more in the back.
- Come on, ladies.

You're late.

He okay?

He'll live.

...estimated at 1, 125 kilograms
of processed crack cocaine...

is estimated to be in
excess of $45 million.

Federal officials have confirmed
to Channel 6 News...

that their investigation is ongoing...

and that while no arrests
have yet been made...

the seizure itself has severely disrupted
the operations of a group...

believed to have ties
to Colombian narco-terrorist--

Now, that, gentlemen, is a case.

God forbid you two should put something
like that on my friend, Frank Sobotka...

I would die happy.

Our case is progressing.

- Great, what can you charge?
- We're not at that point.

We've got wires into a smuggling operation
that we've linked to drugs and women.

Likely, they're the people
who were bringing in the girls...

who turned up dead in that can
two months ago.

Now, we're on one location that we believe
is a transshipment point for narcotics.

And last night, if you check the 24s...

you'll see that we hit a brothel
we also think ties in.

A month or two more
on the taps and DNRs...

and we will be able to identify
the top-end players.

- You hit a brothel?
- Waterfront condo, high-end.

Jesus.

If you find anything that looks
like a list of steady customers, flush it.

I mean, half the names
in the Maryland Manual are probably on it.

Any problems on the raid?

A complication or two.
Nothing we can't write around.

Immigration is holding the girls.

And the madam, who has legal residency,
we cut loose after she posted bail.

You try to interview them?
See if any will roll?

Not while the taps are up.

Better to let them think it was a random
raid and see what's said on the wire today.

Cut to the chase.
You any closer on my murders?

If these are the people
who were importing those girls...

then, yeah, we're closer.

The more we learn, the more chance
we have to clear those cases.

What about Frank Sobotka?

I'm not hearing his name in here anywhere.

The union may be involved
in the smuggling...

but we're not getting a sense
that it goes past that.

This is about Frank Sobotka.

The case is bigger now.

Look, missy, this is my detail.
I started it.

Now, I'm asking,
do you have charges on Frank Sobotka?

Charging Sobotka at this point
would lose us the wire...

and a chance at the real targets.

- He is the real target.
- Patience, Stan.

- I'm sure if they bring the case--
- You owe me on this, Erv.

You asked for a detail,
I gave you a detail.

You asked for Daniels, I gave you Daniels.

Okay.

Now the votes are in...

and you're moving your damn golf trophies
upstairs to the commissioner's office...

now you're freezing me out, huh?

Fucking rat fuckers, all of you.

This is my case.

Mine!

And now you're gonna tell me
who the target is?

Not fucking likely.

He's saying no.

He's saying we fought for
every one of them Towers...

and to give them up now
would mark us as weak.

He's saying if we do this,
Prop Joe would have it over us...

and we might never get out from under.

- We don't have the product or the muscle.
- I told him.

I did.

He say he still trying to find us
a better connect.

And for muscle...

he's saying he sending us
the best he can find.

Brother Mouzone.

He sending in Brother?

From New York.

Coming down to work on retainer,
for as long as we need.

- Brother Mouzone?
- Yep.

"At which point
the officer was unable to resist...

"the ministrations
of the aforementioned suspect...

"and found himself
brought to the point of a sexual act."

You're famous behind this, you know that?

As a pervert,
this report is gonna make you a BPD legend.

I can't perjure myself.
I gotta explain it somehow.

Motherfucker, you have violated
a half dozen departmental regs right there.

Not to mention that no state's attorney
is gonna even bring this thing into court.

We're not going to court.
The girls are being deported.

We did the raid
just to tickle the wire, remember?

There were two of them. I was outnumbered.

You fucking with me, right?

Brother Mouzone, from NYC?

I went to Avon, told him I didn't have
enough muscle to hold down them Towers.

- Played it like that.
- Yeah, and he reached out.

Joe, I'm still holding on to this deal.

Know what I'm saying?
This is just some shit we gotta deal with.

Deal with how?

My nigger, I would take
the motherfucker out if I could...

but Avon can't know
it came from his own people, right?

You don't think I'm gonna send
any of my people up against Brother?

Shit.

That nigger got more bodies on him
than a Chinese cemetery.

True.

Look, I'm just saying,
this your problem, not mine.

You want my product,
you need to deal with it.

All right, so listen,
we got some time here.

Avon gotta send up word
and wait for word to come back...

set up a price, talk to Brother Mouzone,
I mean, set up the whole shit.

And that's like a week or maybe two.

And by that time,
your people's gonna be in the Towers...

and if the money's right,
then that is what it is.

Ain't no nigger from New York
gonna change the facts from the ground.

All right?

12-08 to 11-37, you there?

11-37, what you got?

That last truck is on the move.

It sits there for two days
and they don't offload a thing.

- 10-4.
- They're testing us.

They been moving clean cans.

- The trash hasn't drawn any flies.
- No?

We just took out the last of it.
No problems.

Okay, then we go.

- What about Ilona?
- She is home. They kept the children.

There are always more children.

Why don't we tap that cellphone,
even if we don't know who we're tapping?

That call might just be our PC.

And this here is the
little king of everything.

So how many we got in the sector?

Double shift, plus the Flex Squad, DEU...

and a dozen guys Tactical sent us.

We're on every corner.

Pretty damn quiet today.

Today.

Let's go.

Officer.

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