White Collar (2009–2014): Season 3, Episode 7 - Taking Account - full transcript

Neal's girlfriend Sara Ellis is among the victims of bank hacking. It's apparently as good as claimed by the legendary Vulture, Mozzie's virtual hero. Posing as him, Neal sets a trap, but their prime suspect is actually shot at by the real hacker, who proves elusive even once identified.

Thank you.

I lived out of a hotel once.

Once?

Figured you probably stayed
in a lot of hotels

during your...
indiscriminate youth.

I spent most of my time
on the move.

Well, what was different
about this hotel?

The Palazzo Sasso in Ravello.

It's the height of
the Renaissance frozen in time.

Mm-hmm. With jacuzzis
and hot-stone massage.

Cloisters at the Villa Cimbrone
a few minutes away.



In another life,
I'd have stayed there forever.

Sounds perfect.
Why'd you leave?

I got word
that Europol was closing in

for a score I allegedly ran
in Corsica.

Uh-huh.
Indiscriminate youth.

Well, hotel living is fine,

but I will be very happy
when renovations are over

and I can get back
into my apartment.

Aw. Are you getting tired of
roughing it in the lap of luxury?

I prefer to be somewhere

where "Do not disturb"
is standard policy

and where I don't have to
pull money to tip every day,

as grateful as I am to the boys
in the burgundy blazers.

Back up there, sticky fingers.



Okay.

If you think that'll help.

You think you can guess my pin?

No.
I can deduce it.

Really?
Mm-hmm.

Would you like to make a wager?

Loser tips
for the rest of the day.

Generously?
Of course.

You're on.

Your birthday is November 11th.

11-11.

But you grew up
at 7310 Lake Street.

Good listener,
but you're not even close.

Your first car was a red Chevy Nova.
So?

So the 4th and 9th position in the VIN
number tell you the vehicle make.

You're insane.

You have no idea.

3-1-8-9.

That's impossible.
I picked a random number.

Well, there's no such thing
as random.

Your subconscious is always
back there, working.

Or you saw the reflection
in the camera guard.

Or I might have done that.

Mm-hmm.

Neal, what'd you do?

Nothing.
I entered the pin.

Neal, my account is empty.

At 10:30 this morning,

Manhattan Mutual Bank
lost control of its server.

Within an hour,
they were out $125 million.

That didn't all come from Sara.

No. Thousands of customers
got hit.

That's too many to compromise

with classic
phishing techniques.

We're thinking computer virus.

Our best guess is a trojan

camped out
in the server's boot sector.

It captured administrative
domain credentials

and converted the entire
intranet into a botnet.

In the common vernacular,

the virus took over
every computer in the network.

Our thief was gracious enough

to leave an explanation
for the crime.

30 minutes --
Manhattan Mutual's website

was replaced with this.

What the hell?
Is that a mask?

Members of an interned world,

too long
have we suffered bureaucracy,

a corpulent infant

with which the masses
have greedily procreated.

Today we strike a blow

against the dysfunction
we call world finance.

It goes on like this.

We know who's behind it?

We have a theory.

This morning,
the Swiss Financial Authority

reported a cash transfer into
the account of Cameron Duponte.

The deposit
matches the amount stolen,

but we think
Duponte is a cover.

There's no record of him
before a few months ago.

This is a list of Manhattan
Mutual clients who got hit.

This isn't just
investment bankers and C.E.O.s.

We've got pensioners,
public servants.

That's a lot of people
without a backup plan.

A lot of people, which means
this case takes top priority.

Jones, maybe there's
a language in the virus

that can point us
to the programmer.

Diana, call up Zurich.

We need access
to the Duponte account.

That's it.

So?

I got good news and bad news.

We traced the money
to a Swiss bank.

Is that the good news
or the bad news?

Both.

Until we prove something
definitively,

the account's untouchable.

Well, great --
in my experience,

if the criminal's not caught
before the money's spent,

then those dollars
are never coming back.

Which is why
I intend to catch him, Sara.

Thank you.

Are you okay in the short term?

Well, this guy took everything.

And the FDIC has me filling out
all sorts of paperwork.

We know how long
insurance claims take.

Yes, with this many victims
and different account types,

could be months.

My apartment
is fully under construction,

so until I pull
my next commission check...

You could stay with me.

You know,
till this is cleared up.

Uh...at June's?

You sure that's a good idea?

Well, it's not
the Four Seasons, but...

I can bring you food
on a little cart.

Okay.

I remember
when Elizabeth moved in.

No. No.
This is temporary.

Yep. So was El.

Sorry. The place
is a little bit of a mess.

Neal, what would you estimate the value of--
Moz.

Oh. Sara.

Hello.

Welcome.

I hope we didn't interrupt you.

I was, um...looking at porn.

At the dining room table?

Of someone else's home?

Well, you live your life.

And I see now
you're living in mine.

I wasn't informed
you were moving in.

She's not moving in.

You heard about
the Manhattan Mutual hack?

Of course.
It was a masterstroke.

Whoever's behind
that shredded paper mask

is a bona fide genius.

Thank you, Moz.
Sara got cleaned out.

She's staying here
until the money's recovered.

Oh, so we have a roommate.

"We"?

I was unaware
it was a package deal.

It's...

I'm gonna put some things away.

You two can chat.

Porn? Really?

I panicked.

I couldn't put her out
on the street.

Neal, this is hardly the time
to revitalize chivalry.

What about the Four Seasons?

It's a little
out of my price range.

When we get to sell
our treasure,

there will be countries
in your price range.

We have secrets here.

All right, relax --
as soon as we catch this guy,

everything will get
back to normal.

Did you miss me?

Uh, Sara, Neal and I were
discussing your predicament.

And I would like to offer
my assistance.

So you want to get rid of me.

"Po-tay-to,"
"po-tah-to."

Let's do it.
Let's solve the case.

All right.

The thief parked the take
in a Swiss bank

under an alias --
Cameron Duponte.

Duponte is a specter.

The FBI barely knows
where to start.

Oh, that's where we have
an advantage over the feds.

We have a keen grasp
of the criminal mind.

Okay, say I've stolen
an incalculable fortune

and secreted it away.

And every few hours,
I go online to ogle my prize.

Let's say you do that.

What's the worst thing
I could see?

The treasure disappearing.

Right.

Now, if Uncle Sam can't get
at Duponte's account, who can?

Duponte.

But he doesn't exist.

Not yet.

We can create him.

We can go into a local branch
of his bank

and pretend to be Duponte.

They'll have
security questions.

That's just a hiccup.

We could trade his data
for our data.

Once we get control
of the account...

We start spending.

The thief has to
come out of hiding to stop us

or watch his money vanish.

So...

We're talking about
international bank fraud...

Well...

...Federal grand larceny,
synthetic identity theft --

Don't forget conspiracy.

Okay.

All in hopes

of convincing some psycho
to come after us?

Concisely stated.

Look, you said if we don't catch
him soon, the money's gone.

Okay, it could work.

It will work.

Then there's really
only one question.

How we gonna spend
a hundred million dollars?

Corrected by honeybunny
Sync by www.addic7ed.com

What do you think?

Do I look like
monsieur Duponte?

You are
a veritable master of disguise.

Zip me up?

Mm.

You know, helping you dress
seems so counterproductive.

Monsieur Duponte!

If only we didn't have
a previous engagement.

Mm-hmm.

Neal...
Mm?

There was a box on the bed.

The banker's box?

Yes.

Yeah, I moved it.

Where?

Right there.

That is a box
of Sterling Bosch case files,

which means
it is very off-limits.

Ooh. Now you got me
curious.

Stop it. I'm serious. All right?
Some things are private.

I thought this was about
not having any secrets.

Okay, well, then what about

the exceptionally well-forged
passport

that is behind that painting?

You searched my apartment?

No. You left it open.

And now
you're changing the subject.

They're work-related.

So Peter knows about them?

Let's just say
he wouldn't be surprised.

So you're not skipping town?

Look, there are
a lot of reasons

someone in my position
would need a good alias.

You know what?

Ask Mr. Duponte.

Okay?

Okay.
Come on.

But you're keeping your hands
off my banker's box.

Oh, yeah?
Mm-hmm.

We'll see about that.
You're trouble.

You found something
in the virus?

Oh, did I.

Okay, so, line 2,219
is an unreachable script.

A portion of the code
that the program

has no way of executing.

Yes, the program
can't execute it,

but looks what happens when I
treat the code as an object file.

Boom.
We get an image.

The Vulture.
Mm-hmm.

One of cyber crimes'
top 10 most wanted.

Pendergrass talked
to the Vulture for six months

before he realized
he was getting strung along.

Well, hackers like that
can smell a trap

right through the fiber optics.

So, we have a name but no face.

And the Vulture's got
$125 million

that doesn't belong to him.

So, the first number
on autodial

is Marjorie,
the head of accounts.

And second is Jacob,
her assistant.

Now, this bank I.D. badge should
lend you an air of credibility.

Oh. Are we concerned
about cameras?

Well, if we do this right,

there'll be no need
to check the video.

How long to replace
the account info?

Well, once I have the daily
clearance code, five minutes.

Five minutes,
I can deftly provide.

Then I use
the new account information

to verify myself as Duponte.

Let's get your money back.

Marjorie Cowell.

Hi, I'm interested in opening

a combined MMA
and checking account.

My name is
Timothy Blackhouse Astor IV.

Of the Astors?

That's right, Marjorie.

Of course, Mr. Astor.

Let's get you set up.

Hi.
Can I help you, sir?

I represent the office
of the Federal Comptroller.

Kindly escort me
to your accounts manager.

I'll be shifting accounts

from several different
financial institutions.

There's no need to herd me.

Where's Marjorie Cowell?

Uh, Mr. Astor, can I please
put you on hold for a moment?

Certainly.

Great.

Hello.

Can I help you?

Uh, Marjorie Cowell?
Yes.

Having determined

that the requirements
of rule 17 were satisfied,

we turn to the claim that
the subpoena should be quashed

because it demands that

"it would be inconsistent with
the public interest to produce."

Sir. Sir, can you please
keep your voice down, please?

Uh, first contention
is a broad claim

that the separation of powers
doctrine

precludes judicial review
of a claim of privilege...

Can I get you to just lower your voice?

...That it would be
inconsistent...

Jacob Geery.
Hey, Jacob.

This is Timothy Astor
from the Chicago branch.

Listen, your head of accounts

sent over a P-204
marked "urgent."

The thing is, she left out
today's clearance code,

so I'm not authorized
to send this baby back.

Uh, I can't give you
the clearance code.

You'll have to talk
to Marjorie.

I'm aware of that, Jacob.
I've been trying to call her.

Please -- Each branch must initially
interpret the constitution...

S-she's busy
at the moment.

All right. You know how it is
with P-204s.

It's not my butt
in the meat grinder.

I really --
I really need --

And the counsel...

Marjorie? Marjorie,
I have a Timothy Astor --

Yes! Help him
with anything he needs!

...Over the subpoena should hold...
Yes.

Please.
That any decisions of this court, however...

The code today is green 5.

You nailed it, Jacob.
I'll send that P-204 right over.

All right.
Have a good one.

This is not
the correct --

That it is emphatically
the province and duty

of the judicial department
to say what the law is...

Sorry. This isn't --
this is institu--

Sir, I must have you --
...A-a-at 177.

Please, sir. I'll --
Please, can we take this to my office?

Hi.

Cameron Duponte.

I lost my wallet.

...Of Marbury v. Madison.

The separation of powers
doctrine

precludes judicial review
of a claim of privilege...

Before you ask, I don't expect
any special treatment.

Of course, Mr. Duponte.

I do have to verify
some personal information

before I can reissue you
a debit card.

Not a problem.

"...Conversations
that would be inconsistent

with the public interest
to produce."

Uh, the first contention
is a broad claim...

I'm sorry. I didn't get your name.

Excuse me.

Hey.

You're late. Why?

I am at the bank,
helping Sara out.

Ah, domestic partnership.

Hey, does she make you
iron your shirts in the morning?

Mother's maiden name?

Uh, Mitchell.

Elizabeth has to make you
iron your shirts?

If I'm wearing a jacket,
you can only see the middle.

Street you grew up on?

Uh, Portage Avenue.

Who are you talking to?

I am with the bank teller.

Did you call to find out
if my shirt has wrinkles?

Jones found a signature
in the virus.

It belongs to the Vulture.

The Vulture would be
a big catch.

Sir, please,
I'm gonna have to ask you...

My friend's
an avid ornithologist.

No name yet,
but we'll track it down.

How's Sara holding up?

She's making the best
of a bad situation.

However...

...Unequivocally reaffirmed
the holding,

the counsel, as agreed --

All right, that's enough.
Can I see your credentials?

No, you may certainly not.

Please see him out.

Oh, fat chance.

I'm highly trained in hapkido.

You have restored my confidence
in this organization.

Carry on, gentlemen.

Good day.

I'll be taking these.

What were you reading
back there?

Oh, the court issuance
from Watergate,

with the word "president"
excised.

I just grabbed
the first thing lying around.

All right, we're in.

All the Duponte information's
changed?

Everything
but the balance login.

The thief can't touch
the account, but he can see it.

All right.

Let's give him
something to look at.

When you said we were going to

spend the thief out of hiding,

I envisioned something

more like supermarket sweep
on Fifth Avenue.

No, our first purchase
should send a clear message

we're willing to blow
all $125 million.

Mozzie didn't seem too pleased

we were pulling a con
on Vulture.

He has a weakness
for notorious scofflaws.

Mr. and Mrs. Duponte.
I'm so glad you could make it.

The AgustaWestland AW139--

She's the Bentley of the sky.

Room for nine
in a full-leather interior,

multimedia center
with active noise control.

Let's talk cost.

Fully decked,
around $20 million.

Oh. That's...not really
what we had in mind.

We do have some more economical
alternatives.

Excuse me.

The problem is volume.

We'll need four.

I'll take it all.

We'll take all three.

Word from the Swiss bank?

Yeah. They won't budge on our
request to freeze the account.

But they did report
something unexpected.

Duponte came into
their New York branch

to have a debit card reissued.

Then started spending
in a big way.

Two dozen Fioravanti suits

and twice that
in Valentino dresses,

matching black and red
Rolls-Royce convertibles.

This sounds like
the world's most expensive date.

You think Duponte has a partner
with expensive tastes?

I think I have a partner
with expensive tastes.

What do you think?

Well, it's almost right.

There we go.

I never thought
I would say this,

but I'm actually worn out
from shopping.

Well, you better get
your second wind,

because we still have a lot left
in our coffers.

Well, I suppose
I can muster up some strength.

Look, I have to ask you
a stupid question.

Yeah.

What do we do if the Vulture
does come after us?

Hackers aren't known
for their physical prowess.

Neal...
Hmm?

That's not a strategy.

Look, I-if the Vulture
shows up,

we call Peter,
and the FBI arrests him.

Oh, so you were
gonna call me eventually?

Oh.

Peter, there is an explanation
for all this.

You thought
you'd spend the money

to draw the Vulture
out of hiding.

I love how we're always
on the same page.

Same page?
We're not reading the same book.

We're not even
in the same library.

Okay, I can see
that you're mad.

Damn right I'm mad.

You robbed a bank.

Vulture robbed a bank.
We simply...

Robbed a different bank?
Nice dress.

What were you thinking, Sara?

Look, it was either that

or we sit on our hands
until this guy slipped up.

I'm not sitting on my hands.
This is due process.

I should have known
that you'd come up

with some half-baked idea
to avoid it.

If we give it
some time --

No. Absolutely not.
This ends now.

Sara, I suggest
that you change your clothes

and collect all the receipts,

because all of this
is going back

as soon as the case is closed.

You --
you're coming with me.

There's a lot of missing money
out there,

and someone's
going to prison for it.

You're gonna help me make sure
that it's the Vulture

and not the two of you.

Okay?

Maybe call
and cancel the hot tub.

Yeah.

I should have known
there was gonna be trouble

when Sara moved in.

She didn't move in.

You don't have $125 million
at your disposal,

yet both things
apparently are true.

Well, in the past,

the Bureau's okayed
extravagant stings, right?

That's right, honey.
The Bureau okays them.

There are
checks and balances --

a notion that goes beyond
Neal's comprehension.

No, I understand checks.

It's just the balances
that I struggle with.

Well, we're not any closer
to finding the Vulture.

Vulture?

A hacker with a knack
for fomenting social unrest.

But theft
has never been his M.O.

No? Well, I'll ask him
when we bring him in.

Any idea
how we can get this guy?

No, that's Mozzie's province.

I keep my heists
in the third dimension.

Well, I'm sure he could help.

Why don't I give Mozzie a call?

You have his number?

We chat.

They chat?

I wouldn't be too concerned.

Mozzie is very good
with boundaries.

I'm not here to catch Vulture.

He's a criminal.
That's exactly why you're here.

I'm here
to prove his innocence.

And if you're gonna use
your government trickery

for any other purpose,
I withdraw my services.

Calm down, Moz.

Peter won't arrest the Vulture
if he isn't guilty.

Ah.
Moroccan mint tea.

Mrs. Suit just bought you
an extra five minutes.

I see you boys
are getting along.

Like Burr and Hamilton.

Fellow revolutionaries?

Pistols at noon.

Mozzie's explaining why I should
recategorize the Vulture

as a civic hero.

Well, maybe Mozzie's right.

Maybe the Vulture
isn't the thief.

Honey. Hm.

Tell me who he is,
and I'll hear him out.

How should I know who he is?

Look...

The entire hacker lifestyle
is based on anonymity.

Chances are, the Vulture's best
friends don't know his name.

How am I gonna catch this guy?

Mozzie, how are you
gonna contact him?

The online underground
communicates via I.R.C.

Internet Relay Chat --
I know what it is.

If you need to send a message
to the Vulture

on the Internet superhighway,

then this is
where you hang the billboard.

Well, how do we get
the attention of a hacker?

Say "hi"
from Microsoft source code?

How about the feds
offer full immunity?

No.

I can't offer full immunity
without going up the ladder.

Uh, you might want
to go up the ladder.

You already posted it?
Take it down -- now!

It can't be undone.

In fairness, we weren't making
much headway without him.

We also didn't alert the Vulture
that we were onto him.

Oh. So you don't
want to meet?

The Vulture responded?

Grand Army Plaza,
tomorrow morning.

Thank me any time.

This location's
too public.

There's no way to know
who we're looking for.

The Vulture wants to maintain
a strategic advantage.

A wise move,
given your propensity

for casting false accusations.

Does anyone have a visual?

There's no sign of him yet.

I'm checking for smartphones
and Internet connections.

You know, we're not far removed

from fully sentient
automobiles.

Yeah, we could be experiencing
a hostile technological takeover

any day now.

I'm glad
the FBI is taking notice.

I have some ideas for
international fail-safes that --

I am innocent.

See? It knows.

No, it was reading
a text message, Moz.

Vulture's here.

11:00. Is that him?

That guy right there
with the hat.

He's texting.

Hey!

Daddy!

How's my girls?

I don't see him.

It's not a him.

It's a her.

She can text without looking.

Send out the handsome one.

The one in the back.

Consider that
a lesson in modesty.

Diana, Vulture's a female --
green backpack, headed north.

Jones, locate the shooter.

Roger, sir.

Get off me,
you corpocratic sycophant!

She bit me.

You work for a government

who apportions more weight to
lobbyists than to constituents.

Who's worse?

Jones, you have anything?

We found the roost,
but our shooter is long gone.

All right,
collect all the evidence

and bring it back
with ballistics.

You can keep your little CSI kit
in your pants.

The person you're looking for
is Kurt Brauer.

How do you know?

Because I helped him
build the virus

that drained Manhattan Mutual.

Get her out of here.

Wow.
No, don't.

But did you see her?

You've got a lot of cool toys.

They're only toys
in your hands.

In my client's hands,
those are WMDs.

For her legal counsel,
you're not helping her case.

Strike that from the record.

So, why can't we find
a photo of Brauer?

He's off the grid.
I've looked, too.

I can't tell you
what he looks like,

but I can tell you what I know.

As long as my client leaves
uncharged and unmolested!

Don't touch the WMDs.

And I'm not
calling you Vulture.

Sally.

Short for "Salieri"?

It is now.

Sally, you built the virus
for Brauer?

I built it with Brauer.

A few months ago,
he reached out to me --

wanted help scratching up a bug
to infiltrate bank accounts.

Then he cut you out
of the robbery.

There wasn't supposed to be
a robbery.

You put your hand
in the cookie jar,

but you didn't want a cookie?

What do you see
out that window?

I see a thousand C.E.O.s
collecting undisclosed bonuses

even as they lay off
half their workforce.

You wanted to publicize
their bank statements.

Someone in this city
has to expose corruption.

Doesn't sound
that different

from the ideology
Brauer's espousing.

His paper mask manifesto?
It's a bastardization.

All buzz, no bite.

None of us in the movement
were fooled.

He didn't take a shot at you
over your political differences.

No. He probably thinks
I'm the one spending his money.

So, whoever spent the money
almost got you shot?

Point of fact -- I was against
the plan from the incepti--

I apologize.
But the plan drew out Brauer.

That should count
as half a win.

I'm gonna get us
the other half.

We leaked security photos
from your shopping spree.

Oh, that way, Brauer takes
his next shot at me. Sounds fun.

I love how we're always
on the same page.

Then we linked
a series of remote purchases

to a P.O. box
and set up a delivery date.

He assumes
I'm picking up my order

and shows up to take me out.

Then we take him out.

And that's how
the FBI does a sting.

Mm. I'm impressed.

But my way was more fun.

You here to collect
your legal fees?

I'm here to protect you.

That's precious, but I've been
protecting myself for years.

Your face is out there,

which makes you
eminently trackable.

You're an expert online, but...

You're in my world now.

I see you've safeguarded
against sunlight.

I don't like my neighbors.

How long is this gonna take?

Well, we need to put up electrified
bars over the windows...

...Reinforce the door.

What's in there?

My bedroom.

I assume
that's, uh, plenty secure.

I don't know.
Is it?

Of course, they're putting RFID
chips in food packaging now,

so they can track you
through your Cap'n Crunch.

We should replace
your, uh, cereal boxes

with plastic container--

Uh, foil...

It's not just good for hats.

This is
what heaven feels like.

The faux-fur industry's
certainly come a long way.

Is it just me, or does knowing
this les Paul cost 800 grand

actually make it sound better?

We'll have to buy you a cheaper
one when this is all over.

Once you go gold,
you can't go back.

Sure, but you have to.

It is not in the budget

once Brauer's plunder
is back where it belongs.

Unless we could find
another way.

Meaning?

These past few days --

They remind me
of the Palazzo Sasso.

They've been perfect.

You're really hung up
on that hotel.

It wasn't just the hotel.

It was a time in my life

when I had everything
I was looking for --

Freedom...

Excitement...

Comfort...

And the right people
to share it with.

You think...this might be
another one of those moments?

What if I told you

that we could
keep living like this?

What --
rich beyond measure,

unaccountable
to anyone or anything,

not a care in the world?

Is that a yes?

No, it's a daydream.

Well, maybe daydreams
can come true.

And that is why I like you.

Because you dreamed
all of this up.

And it really has been
a hell of a lot of fun.

But?

But we didn't earn it, Neal.

People like me
don't get gold-plated guitars --

Not legally.

Hey.

I don't cross any line
I can't come back from.

And I'd never ask you to.

Okay.

Well, maybe this is
our Palazzo Sasso, then.

But I think you're forgetting

a very important part
of that story.

The Palazzo Sasso didn't last.

You're right.

What's the plan if Brauer
doesn't show up at the P.O. box?

You spent $90 million
in 36 hours.

He'll show.

How are you and Sara doing?

Well, you know,
there are always growing pains.

She's taken over the closet?

Are you in a full-fledged
garment war with Elizabeth?

I mean, first she wants you
to iron your own shirts,

and now
she's taking over the closet?

We're not talking
about El and me.

Sara did complain
about my anklet.

Ooh.

I toss in my sleep,
and she bruises easily.

How about
if I take off your anklet?

That'd be great.

Then we'll see if Sara prefers
conjugal visits.

'Cause you'd be in prison.

A-as a rule of thumb,

you shouldn't have to explain
your jokes.

Yeah.

Brauer didn't come
to the P.O. box.

Evidently, $90 million

isn't as compelling
as one might think.

He did send a delivery service.

A delivery service?

What was the delivery?

A flash drive.

To the bourgeois swine
responsible

for squandering the capital

with which our freedom
was to be purchased --

More B.S. political rhetoric.

Doesn't make sense.

Last time,
he put a.40-caliber round

an inch from Vulture's head.

And now
he's leveling idle threats.

What's he up to?

Guys, we got a problem.

What is it?
Brauer got behind the firewall.

Get everybody offline now.

Everybody!
Network cables out now!

Unplug your computers!
Unplug them!

I need a full system reboot.

What the hell happened?

I thought cyber crimes
scanned that drive.

They did. They did.
This is something new.

A virus hidden between
lines of code on the video file?

If Brauer got in our network,
who knows what he has.

We're back up.
Good.

This machine was inactive
when we got hacked.

So it should be clean.

He went straight
for the Duponte account,

but he just got the personal
information Caffrey changed.

He's restoring the identity
you stole from him.

Well, he'd have to go into
the bank to access the money.

After that,
I'm betting he splits town

as fast as possible.

If Brauer was at the bank,

he'd be
on their security footage.

The Swiss
still won't play ball.

Without Brauer's photo,
we're not catching him.

Technically,
we don't need permission

to pull the security tapes.

Don't we have a new friend
who hacks into banks?

Uh, hello?

Moz?

Neal, this isn't a great time.

Yeah, well, you've got
the FBI on the line.

We need to talk
to your new client.

Please call my office
during normal business hours

to set an appointment.

Can you find Sally or not?

Hang on.

Do you see my glasses?

They're right in front of you.

Wait.

Are they...

I think...they are.

Are these your socks?

That one is mine.

I will never unhear that.

Okay, she's here now.

Yeah, we got that.

We think Brauer has recaptured
the Duponte account.

He's got to be on surveillance,
but the bank is stonewalling.

For obvious reasons, the FBI
can't violate their security.

But if someone else did...

Ah, way ahead of you.

We'll send over the footage
as soon as we have it.

Bye.

Me too.

We got video.

It's cued up to just before
the account was reinstated.

That's got to be Brauer.

Stop there.

Back him up to the door.

Blow it up on his face.

All right, Logan,
get that picture to NYPD.

Tell them
to put out an all-points.

All right,
let's get to the end.

I want to see what he did
when he left.

Do we have the exterior camera?

Freeze it.
Right there.

Can we bring it closer?

I know where that cab
dropped him off.

Spread out.

I need an agent on every jetty,
car park, and subway terminal.

Let's get into position!
Red team!

Blue team's with me.

Diana, get someone
in the CCTV room.

Let terminal security
know we're here.

Got it.

I told Hughes
we need more agents.

This is one of the biggest ports
in the eastern seaboard.

We could definitely use
more manpower. This is...

Neal?
Yeah?

Get Sally back on the line.

What are you thinking?

Mozzie, it's agent Burke.

I need your help.

We're gonna deputize every
single person in this terminal.

I own the cell towers.

How are you
on the video monitors?

Fits and starts. The HSM box
is giving me trouble.

It's the Cellcom unit.

You should try running a router mask.
...A router mask!

You think they can pull it off?

Well, you picked
the right two misfits to try.

And there's your answer.

Wow.

That was fast.

21st century's
a house of cards, Peter.

Now the fun part.
Yep.

Hey.

That's the guy!
That -- that's him!

We got him!

Move! Move! Move!

T-that's him!
That's him!

Brauer! Freeze!

Man, he looks familiar.

Have I seen your picture
somewhere?

Yeah, you're somebody.
Isn't he?

Yeah, he's definitely somebody.

This won't stick.
Hmm?

I'm a hero.
You're a thief.

Not underground.
Not to my people.

I've actually spent
a lot of time with your people.

More than he'd like.

You robbed a bank,
and you tried to kill Vulture.

You don't have any friends left,
above or below ground.

And I bet
this has everything we need

to prove you built the virus.

Just don't plug it in
at the office.

Big Brother here.
We're always watching.

We got him.

Excellent.

Tell Sally thanks.

Tell the Suit he can thank me

with Department of Justice
access codes.

Not gonna happen.

We'll settle
for Department of Agriculture.

You know how
hormone-injected chickens are --

Thanks, Moz.

Another "W"
for Caffrey and Burke.

Complete
with late-inning heroics --

Just the way I like it.

What, you don't appreciate
a nice, relaxing blowout?

Oh, I'll take a win
however I can get it.

There is something
about the bottom of the ninth.

Yeah, bases loaded,
full count, two outs.

And we knock it
out of the park.

Plus, you always make sure
my job is a challenge.

Ah, come on.
Mm.

I sent some probies
to your apartment

to collect
your millionaire fantasy camp.

There'll be
a lot of happy people

to know they're getting
their money back.

Yeah, and a lot
of unhappy store clerks

when you return everything
we bought with Brauer's score.

You worried about that

or the fact
that you have to give it up?

Can it be both?

Nope. You knew you couldn't
keep those things forever.

Do you remember
when I was staying

at the Palazzo Sasso in Ravello

and you had Europol closing in?

No.
You were in Ravello?

Right after the Corsica heist.

Ohh.

I had no idea you were there.

I had Europol leak
that we were getting close

so you'd keep moving.

You were bluffing.

Yeah.

So I could have stayed there.

Yeah.
I guess you could have.

That's the last of it.
Thank you, guys -- very much.

No problem, ma'am.

You get the door?
Yeah.

Sara?

I see you've found
Mozzie's bug scanner.

Sorry, June.
I didn't know you were home.

I-I don't like those
federal agents around the house

without supervision.

Sure.

You and Mozzie
don't care much for authority.

Let's just say
it's an acquired distaste.

Well, this place is incredible.
It's like Franklin Castle.

Who built it?

My late husband, Byron.

The police arrested him

when they found some fake
casino chips under the cushion.

But after he came back
from prison...

Probably still had
a lot of secrets --

Just hid them better?

We're not talking about Byron
anymore, are we?

No.

Give Neal time,
and he'll let you in.

And in the meantime?

I saved Byron's hide
on many occasions.

I knew more
than he thought I did.

Thank you.

Talk later.

Yes, ma'am.

Bye.
Bye.

We got Brauer.

I heard.
It's pretty amazing.

When will you be home?

Are we a
"when will you be home" couple?

No. I...

I'm asking

because when you said that
we could keep living like this,

what did you mean, Neal?

Nothing.

You know, it's like you said --
I was...daydreaming.

Really? That's all?

That's really all.

Come on. Smile.

You're gonna get
your money back.

We'll celebrate tonight.

Okay.

What you got there?

Oh. Vulture's number.

And I didn't even have to
circumvent a middlebox.

You got yourself a girlfriend.

Neither I nor she
would ever thrust

such a crude epithet
upon ourselves.

You thinking about staying?

In New York?
Yeah.

You're thinking about staying.

It's crossed my mind.

No, no.
I-I don't want to hear this.

Nobody knows
we have the treasure, Moz.

We can live our lives.

As closet billionaires?

I don't think so.

That's not how this works.

The secret of the treasure
is radioactive.

A look here, a whisper there.

It's...too big.

It can't be kept.

What are you doing?

Cutting all ties.

Our future is lying
in a vault right now,

waiting for us.

This is no time
to be dropping anchor.

No complications.

No complications.

Don't you have perfect recall?

Symbolic gesture.

Neal, what did you do?

Corrected by honeybunny
Sync by www.addic7ed.com