"previously on "the closer"... the protected witness is sitting over there in the garage." "some old mafia guy." "pope: we will share custody of deluca with agent hecht, who may stay with him at an l. a. p. d. safe house with flynn and provenza." "what's with the crown royal bag?" "i keep my gun in it when i'm off duty." "it was marty's idea." "the bag is supple." "it helps keep the gun dry." "huh?" "yeah. that's it." "brenda: agent hecht." "agent hecht!" "marty. marty!" "it's a trap." "sanchez: hey, marty." "drop your weapon!" "taylor: all right, lieutenant." "i got about 10 minutes." "walk me through this as fast as you can." "ok. the victim's a 16-year-old boy named malik fara." "site manager found him here this morning at 8:30." "looks like he was shot 3 times?" "4, actually. he's got one in the back." "the boy falls, he turns over, he tries to crawl away, he falls over onto his back, so malik here was looking straight up at the killer when he got blasted in the chest." "taylor: mchale." "evidence suggests that there were 3 people here, including the victim." "we have 3 different pairs of male shoes." "these footprints here are malik's, the blue tape." "those over there are the shooter's, the red tape." "and there's a third set over by those car tread marks." "so, fellas, anyone know why there's a dead arab teenager in the middle of nowhere?" "gabriel: the kid's not from around here, not that anyone is from around here, but we found a library card in his backpack that's from mayflower academy." "malik might be a rich kid." "what else did he have, detective ross?" "some sheet music, bus schedule, a change of clothes, toothbrush, and some sandwiches." "looks like he was going somewhere." "mchale: maybe he was meeting the person in that car, got surprised by the shooter." "that doesn't explain why malik brought a knife with him." "taylor:" "what knife?" "over here." "let's start at the beginning." "so we got 3 people." "there's malik, and over there, there's the guy in the car we believe malik was looking to meet up with, and then there's our killer." "now if we follow the kid's footprints, he walks towards the car, and then from behind comes the killer." "malik and the killer struggle for a moment, malik stabs him, probably in the leg, because there's a blood trail, and it looks like the guy was dragging his foot or maybe limping." "how do we know it was the boy who had the knife?" "we found a slit in the pocket of the jacket where the knife cut through." "commander, this boy was scared of someone." "so malik stabs the shooter, maybe in the leg." "malik starts running." "bam!" "shooter hits boy in the back." "gabriel: well, maybe." "we found two casings over here where the two of them struggled and then 3 more up by the body, probably from the chest wounds, and then 3 more a little further on." "i mean, it was nighttime, so the kid probably-- mchale: the site manager i interviewed said that nobody from the development company's been here for 48 hours, so this could have happened during the day yesterday." "well, not exactly, because it didn't stop raining until about 6:00 p. m." "yesterday, and these muddy footprints were made sometime after the storm, detective." "taylor: how did all these people get here?" "i think it's safe to assume they all drove." "we only found evidence of one car, sir." "flynn:" "look. we should probably widen the search perimeter, get some more personnel-- we can't spare the resources right now, lieutenant." "there was a murder/suicide in hollywood last night." "besides, the evidence seems pretty much localized." "well, we won't know that unless we expand the perimeter." "after 4 months, you boys should realize, we're not playing this game by atlanta rules anymore, ok?" "someone get samples of the blood to the lab." "those casings go to ballistics." "you check with the local hospitals, see if anyone walked in with a knife wound to the leg and try and wrap this up." "a lot of people dying in l. a. this week." "wow. a 5-mile run in 15 minutes." "that's pretty amazing." "how far did you get this time?" "all the way to that pastry shop i hate." "you know, i have an idea." "why don't you call someone from work and ask them out to lunch?" "like who?" "did you ever call tao back?" "lieutenant tao doesn't have time to have lunch with me." "besides, he's been reassigned back to s. i. d." "really?" "when did that happen?" "last thursday." "daniels was sent to liaison with homeland security." "i got an e-mail from her." "taylor's using my paid administrative leave to rip my squad apart." "well, you got--ow!" "sorry." "sanchez and provenza, i'm sure they would love to hear from you." "they're in the same situation you are." "they are not!" "sanchez and provenza are being investigated by internal affairs." "maybe if provenza hadn't left his gun in his desk drawer in a liquor bag and sanchez hadn't shot that guy 4 times, then the f. b. i. wouldn't be using the fact... let's--let's not go through this again." "that a federal agent was shot to death in my murder room by one of their own protected witnesses to ruin my career, and you know it, you know it, you know it." "is there any way to not have this argument again?" "i'm not the f. b. i." "i just work there, and paid administrative leave is not all bad." "you're getting a check to just hang out while the bureau finishes their investigation." "if you don't want to have lunch with someone, why don't you use that time to finish off some of the many projects you've started?" "or maybe clean them up." "i can't have lunch with anyone today because pope has called me in for another meeting, and he won't say what it is, so it's bad, and if you could just find out what the f. b. i. 's saying about me," "maybe i should just start looking for work." "i will tell you immediately." "you know i would." "honestly, i would." "ok. i... hey, 4 months seems long, but it's routine for an investigation like this." "right now, i have to, uh... you have to go to work." "i do, i do." "don't go to work." "look. after you see pope, you'll call me, ok?" "ok." "and i love you." "i love you, too." "got to go." "ok." "ok." "what about malik's family?" "mchale?" "they're lebanese." "father's deceased, mom works nights." "has no idea why malik would be out that late." "he never did that before, doesn't have a car, and the mother said he'd never run away." "what else?" "oh." "malik was some kind of hardcore pianist." "played in competitions, didn't have time for girls or friends." "flynn, anything from the hospitals?" "last night was a rare one." "not one stab wound reported in all of l. a. county." "really?" "does anybody have any ideas about this "n-l-e-r-n-l-w-l"" "on the boy's hand?" "could be initials, maybe a girl." "with a long, long, very long name." "come on. ross, hurry it up." "ok. the cs show where we found casings." "these different-colored lines are the paths our 3 players took." "this is malik, this is the killer, and this is the guy from the car." "the casings eject to the right of the gun, so we can tell where our shooter stood from the rounds that he fired." "one, the killer grabs the kid, and they struggle, and the gun goes off." "two, he shot malik in the back from here." "three, he shot at the guy in the car once here, twice here." "and the last 3 casings, the killer limps back to malik and shoots him in the chest." "now going back to the vehicles for a second-- wait a minute, ross." "wait a minute." "give me this." "now, look where the assailant grabbed malik." "the bruises on the boy's neck indicate that the killer had him in some kind of serious choke hold." "sergeant gabriel." "now he could have strangled him then or shot him." "he had his gun out." "instead, the killer shoots forward trying to... hit the guy in the car." "malik stabs his assailant, he takes off, his killer shoots him in the back, but even after shooting him, he doesn't finish him off." "he walks right past him... trying to shoot the guy in the car." "malik was not the primary target." "but malik's our victim." "ross, you were saying something about the vehicle?" "ross: yeah. the killer's blood trail stops here, so it's probably where he parked." "excuse me." "over here, the guy who ran away, fishtails off in his vehicle unhit." "we found no evidence of broken glass, paint chips, or bullet fragments." "and how did malik get there?" "gabriel: you remember the bus schedule we found in the kid's backpack." "there's a stop about 3/4 of a mile away." "i contacted the m. t. a." "they tracked down the driver of the bus last night." "and he said he remembers seeing malik get off around 10:00 p. m." "so the kid walks almost a mile in the dead of night to the middle of nowhere, and he brought a knife with him to a gunfight." "why?" "all right." "detectives ross and mchale, see if you can speed up the d. n. a. test from the blood on the knife." "gabriel, flynn, why don't you two focus on that murder-suicide for now?" "ross and mchale can handle this." "oh. and thank you, everybody." "thank y'all so very, very much." "* thank you" "oh, i'm sorry, will-- uh, chief pope." "i was told that you were ready for me." "no. we are." "an old friend of ours would like to speak with you." "you remember andrew schmidt?" "andrew, w-what are you doing here?" "nice to see you again, too, brenda." "oh, i'm sorry." "i mean, it's-- it's nice to see you, but-- what am i doing here?" "she was always very quick to get to the point, wasn't she?" "and you don't seem to have aged at all." "neither have you, sir." "she's also one of the best liars i have ever known." "as to why i am here... commissioner schmidt thinks he might be able to make the federal investigation into the shooting in your squad room go away." "uh, pardon me, andrew, because that's a very generous offer and it's good to see a friendly face, but why is the c. i. a." "interested in helping me?" "oh, they aren't." "in fact, the c. i. a." "wants you to help them, and if you did, the company would make certain that you got your job back as a means of expressing their thanks." "and if i don't?" "then there will be nothing to thank you for." "ok. how can i help?" "pope: an arab boy named malik fara was found murdered this morning." "commander taylor is investigating it with what's left of your squad." "but mr. taylor lacks critical information necessary to solving this crime." "the l. a. p. d. has its own intelligence division." "they can handle this." "unfortunately, malik's murder is proof that there is a significant breach in agency security." "the company could not safely rely on official channels, which is why they've reached out to retired personnel like you and me." "they don't trust their own people?" "they do not." "and all you need from me is to investigate the murder of this boy?" "here's what i can tell you in advance of an agreement." "the death of malik fara was almost certainly a mistake." "the intended victim, if he's still alive, is in terrible danger." "we must do everything we can to save him." "lastly, the person who is responsible for this must be found, debriefed, and held accountable." "i need my squad to do this." "i can't give it to you legally." "you're still under federal investigation." "if andrew can make this go away when i'm done, why can't he do it now?" "there is a fear related to your past behavior that you might be tempted to substitute your own agenda for ours." "well, how can i be expected to conduct this investigation right under taylor's nose alone?" "i didn't say you had to work alone." "i said you can't have your squad back legally." "how you manage your resources is up to you." "how is your memory holding up?" "it's excellent." "if you could come to this address... this evening at 9:00." "and, um, brenda, please be sure you're not followed, hmm?" "i'll see you tonight." "be very careful." "i--i hope you have a written agreement stating that if i solve this murder for you i get my job back." "oh, i do, i do." "please sit." "uh, here are some files you will want." "a database, one of our laptops, and a phone with your hello number." "when you want to check in, identify yourself as gwen and ask for mr. schmidt, and they'll find me." "oh. and here's the agreement that you need to read and sign before we can proceed." "oh." "voila." "thank you." "you're welcome." "odd, isn't it, how our enemies never change?" "during world war ii, they recited "mein kampf"" "while shoving people into gas chambers, and during most of my professional life, they, uh, shot you in the back of the head, quoting marx and engels, and now they misuse the koran." "same people, different books." "what was operation fireproof?" "your signature, please." "thank you." "operation fireproof was a collections network comprised of 4 agents, who were recruited from within the los angeles iranian community." "fireproof's focus was on foreign nationals who were trying to obtain nuclear weapons technology for tehran, and for a season, fireproof was considered successful until all 4 of its agents were murdered, one after the other, two weeks ago." "and the case officer in charge of operation fireproof, larry cole-- is he still alive?" "yes. and that's troubling." "i'll say." "why roll up the chain and leave the anchor in place?" "and this malik fara?" "tell me, how did a c. i. a. officer get involved with an adolescent lebanese concert pianist?" "one day last september, mr. cole was intercepted in an l. a. parking garage by this boy--malik-- who quietly proceeded to recite the real names of every member of operation fireproof." "fireproof was highly classified, so there was only one way that malik could possibly obtain that information." "the agency has a mole." "i've always preferred to use the word traitor, especially when blood was spilt." "and our traitor is feeding information to a terrorist organization." "we know this because malik described the source of his knowledge as a highly trusted contact within the army of allah." "now, malik's contact was willing to defect to us on two conditions, first, that we provide him and malik with immunity from prosecution, and then that we should grant them both u. s. citizenship." "man: i'll see you tomorrow." "woman: good night." "i'm sorry." "i--i'm a bit on edge." "so did larry cole tell his bosses about malik?" "not at first." "it took mr. cole a month to make sure the boy was safe, but then when he reported malik's existence... no one believed him." "yeah." "well, the story is spectacular." "and this friend of malik, this terrorist contact in the army of allah, you think he'll lead you to your traitor?" "perhaps." "and what do you want me to do, catch malik's murderer or locate this contact?" "i should like you to do both." "i'm just, um... i want my job back, but i'm a criminal investigator, andrew." "finding out who killed malik, that's my profession." "handing over potential defectors to the c. i. a." "without knowing why or what you're gonna do with them, i don't do that anymore." "i believe that the army of allah has collected enough separated plutonium to create an atomic bomb." "i need to find that separated plutonium, and i need you to help me." "stealing information, passing secrets, reading other people's mail, blackmailing foreigners, lying to your friends and your loved ones about your daily lives-- we are most days gray people doing gray jobs, shadows in a world of black and white," "but then, you know, every once in a while, we're offered the opportunity where we have the chance to do something that is absolutely right to its very core!" "this is one of those times, brenda." "i'll help you, andrew... if i can talk to who i want." "people will cooperate?" "company people, yes." "richard branch, chief of our outpost in los angeles." "if you tell him what you want, richard will arrange it." "this friend of malik's, what position does he hold in the army of allah?" "i don't know." "how did he communicate with malik?" "i don't know." "what's his nationality?" "i don't know." "well, what does he look like?" "i don't know." "how old is he?" "i don't know." "then how in the hell you plan on finding him?" "he's probably on the database of possible terrorist associates i was given access to." "terrorist associates. yeah." "how many names in that database?" "approximately 60,000." "oh, crapola." "now i'm getting irritated." "why are you even looking for this guy if he's not the killer?" "because his life is in danger and because he might have information the c. i. a. wants." "let's get back to that for a minute." "i still don't get why the c. i. a." "is asking you to do anything." "i told you already, lieutenant." "they came to me out of the blue with this offer, and if it gets us back in the squad room-- don't kid yourself, chief." "i'll help you out." "i got nothing else to do, but i could find the lindbergh baby, and it wouldn't get me back into our squad room." "no, no, no. the l. a. p. d." "is retiring my ass." "i won't let them." "don't make promises you can't keep." "so... where do we start?" "well, um, i don't fully understand how malik came to be where he was, so i want to see where he died, but i want to see it like he did--at night." "and we might need a little help." "thanks for your help, lieutenant flynn." "i know you have other work." "that's ok, chief." "i've got gabriel covering it." "besides, it's a murder-suicide." "except for the paperwork, it kind of solves itself." "anyway, the crime scene is right through this gate." "that's where he died." "i want to find out how he got there." "well, wouldn't he go in through the main road here?" "if he was in a car, but he was on foot." "excuse me." "how are things going with taylor?" "oh, just great." "he's been passing investigations off to other divisions and counting them as cleared." "so on paper, we're doing 30% better." "asshole." "look." "what?" "there." "what's that?" "an illuminated marker." "who would notice that?" "someone who's looking for it." "provenza:" "whoa, whoa, whoa." "this is creepy." "you want me to hold you?" "brenda: ok." ""n" and "l. "" "now, let's go north and look left." "which way is north?" "north is... this way." "north and look left." "look at that." "ok, last one." "go west and look left." "i told taylor we should expand the crime scene." "no, this is phosphorescent dye." "it wouldn't have shown up in the daytime anyway." "let's keep following malik's directions." "how does she know about this stuff?" "flynn: so, chief, the crime scene's just up that hill a piece." "ok." "so all these markers are so malik can find his way while being sure he wasn't followed." "and he would have arrived here feeling like he avoided surveillance, and he waited until the guy in the car drove up." "was there anything in his knapsack he could have used to signal his friend?" "no, chief." "wait, wait." "what about this?" "what are you looking for?" "a transmitter." "huh." "that explains how malik was followed here." "and why he didn't know it." "so taylor is investigating the murder of malik from the boy's end, and we'd better leave him to it." "so let's discuss what we know about the guy from the car-- malik's friend." "first, he's foreign because one of the things he asked for was u. s. citizenship, and he asked for immunity from prosecution, so he's participated in criminal activity, probably terrorism." "we also know that he communicated with malik recently because the boy had freshly written directions on his hand." "and i think that we can assume that the guy from the car picked the rendezvous point." "we also know he got there sometime after 6:00, when it stopped raining, because the dye he used to mark malik's route would have washed away in the rain." "and we almost have his height." "he had a size 12 shoe, plus running back to the car, his stride was at least" "5 feet long." "so he's got to be 6 feet tall." "you know what?" "shh!" "shh!" "what is... what is wrong with you?" "the guy-- let's call him mr. t." ""t" for terrorist." "so mr. t. has been in l. a." "longer than just yesterday, because the place he chose for the meeting with malik is not on a lot of tour guides." "howard: brenda, come to bed." "brenda:" "let's wrap this up." "uh, we still have not narrowed down very much who mr. t. might be, and we know nothing of how he communicated with malik." "um... this is gonna be hard." "lieutenant flynn, if you and sergeant gabriel could copy the malik murder book for me without taylor finding out about it." "and, um, if the killer's d. n. a." "came back from that knife, i'd like that, too, please." "yes, ma'am." "i'll help you any way i can, but mainly because i really miss hearing the word "please. "" "uh, lieutenant provenza and i are going to look for the killer without creating too much tension." "how do you intend to do that?" "by going where taylor can't." "good night." "good night, sergeant." "thank you." "good night, chief." "wait a minute." "w-wait a minute." "you're not going to tell them anything about this operation fireproof?" "i don't know enough about it myself yet, lieutenant." "that's why tomorrow i'm meeting with some of the people that put it together." "this richard branch, who heads up the c. i. a. show here in los angeles." "he's gonna take me around." "this is dangerous." "we know of 5 people already connected to fireproof who have been murdered." "so if anything happens to me, i'm gonna need you to be able to report on the substance of what i've done, but you can't be at any of the interviews, and the c. i. a." "can't know about it." "ok, double-o-7." "just tell me what you want me to do." "buzz watson." "how can i help you?" "chief johnson wants what?" "push the other button." "i can't hear very well." "you know, it'd be easier if you drove and let me handle the equipment." "since when have i ever wanted to make things easy for you?" "right." "brenda: so, richard, how long have you been chief of outpost here in los angeles?" "two years, so i was in charge out here during some of fireproof, but i didn't know what the operation was about until andrew showed up asking questions." "and when was that?" "uh, right after larry cole was fired." "oh, i thought andrew didn't come until fireproof's agents started dying." "no, no. he was here much earlier than that." "ok. pull over, buzz." "pull over. they've stopped." "pull over. pull over!" "give me a second." "i might ought to tell you that elaine donahue is angry about this." "to her way of thinking, she organized fireproof perfectly and it's still a big success, so be careful how you approach her." "she can be a raving bitch." "thanks for the advice." "and by what name would you like to be introduced?" "you can call me brenda." "the raving bitch and i are old friends." "hello." "hello." "my name's cynthia." "i won't bother to ask your names, because i know you'd only lie." "my mother's expecting you in the back." "i'd appreciate it if you kept your questions to a minimum." "even though she's desperately lonely, she's been emotionally exhausted from the way you people have treated her, so... hurry it up." "thank you." "brenda leigh johnson!" "which of my old students could andrew have sent to more lighten my mood?" "richard, good of you to come." "nice to see you, too, elaine." "i set this all out last night while cynthia was asleep." "she's angry on my behalf, you know." "did you hear, brenda?" "richard is my new boss." "one day i'm reading his reports at langley, feeling slightly sorry for his backwater posting, and the very next week, i am shuffled off to be officer in residence at ucla, writing up little summaries on foreign exchange students." "such a change of pace." "i hope you like the cake." "it's store-bought, but from a good store." "devil's food." "thank you, elaine." "that's so nice of you." "so how is andrew, anyway?" "i heard he looks horrible." "someone said cancer." "hope that's not true." "so i was wondering if you could tell me about operation fireproof." "of course. that's why we're sitting here, isn't it?" "because andrew says fireproof blew up in my face, which is complete bullshit." "i made coffee. anyone?" "no, thank you." "not me." "ok, so the set piece." "after the invasion of iraq, the c. i. a. 's domestic activities division approves a collection operation code named fireproof." "fireproof's first recruited agent turns out to be a gold mine-- mr. mohammed nuballe, an iranian banker living in l. a. , with connections to the army of allah." "he was transferring large wads of cash from an army of allah charity to a russian entrepreneur, a former k. g. b. officer named voitski." "have you ever heard of a military base in russia called krasny szesenski?" "it translates into english as-- red pines." "i remember." "it's a nuclear missile installation." "correct. that's what mr. voitski sold to the army of allah, my dear." "a decommissioned missile." "in parts. useless as a weapon, but still." "i find that a little hard to believe." "elaine, what makes you think the army of allah was able to pull off buying a russian nuclear missile?" "i don't think." "i know." "we found actionable intelligence proving that's what they were gonna do, and i convinced the company's board of directors to let voitski sell the army of allah that missile and to focus every conceivable surveillance asset on following that missile from red pines to berlin." "and elaine succeeded, didn't she, richard?" "yeah. we got the missile back, plus a fair number of their support network." "so what makes operation fireproof a failure?" "larry cole and that boy malik, who suddenly pops up out of nowhere and tells us we were duped, faked out, misled, that operation fireproof was acting on framed material." "that while we were focusing on red pines, the real money was changing hands elsewhere and that that support team we rolled up was all part of a kleenex network-- tissue terrorists-- manufactured to be thrown away." "so elaine found the missile." "yes, she did, and some very bad people." "and what did elaine get for it?" "her daughter's greenhouse." "banished. banished." "i don't want to spend the rest of my life watering my daughter's plants!" "i want my job back, brenda. pretty please." "i want my job back." "so if not red pines, where was the real money changing hands?" "if you want to know what larry cole thinks, talk to him." "and you want to hide this because... brenda:" "the murder book that lieutenant flynn got for me is all i need for right now." "besides, when larry cole gets here, i don't want him to see malik's picture all over the place or how little we know." "by the way, are you carrying your gun?" "you mean the gun that got us both put on administrative leave?" "that gun?" "better that one than none at all." "go on. go. go on." "do you want some help?" "i got it. i got it." "brenda: please have a seat." "mr. cole, there's so much i've been waiting to ask you i hardly know where to begin, but first, looking at your personnel file, let me say how sorry i am about your recent divorce" "and losing custody of your son like that, then getting fired with not very good references." "that's tough." "and then just when you're facing all those personal and financial pressures, all of your agents are murdered, and now malik, too." "i think you were the only person familiar with all the victims." "is that right?" "obviously not." "can you think of anyone else who knew them... while they were alive, i mean?" "no." "you know, elaine donahue made a suggestion that we should discuss." "she believes you made malik up out of thin air, because no one else ever spoke to him or saw him." "just you." "do you have any idea how we can confirm your report?" "how about this?" "the kid said it was dangerous, and now he's dead." "but how do we know you weren't just waiting around for the first dead arab teenager to turn up in the news, that you didn't latch on to malik's murder and say, "oh, that" "was the boy i was telling everyone about"?" "you never identified malik fara until after he was dead." "i was trying to protect him." "well, you didn't do a very good job, did you?" "i have a copy of everything that the l. a. p. d." "has compiled in this investigation, and there is nothing here indicating how malik communicated with his contact inside the army of allah." "do you have any idea how they traded messages with each other?" "no." "are you, by any chance, trying to protect malik's friend?" "no." "it's been suggested that malik was running away, but the only i. d." "found in his knapsack was a library card." "where might his passport have been?" "he didn't have a passport." "he was living here illegally." "we have d. n. a." "from malik's killer." "anyone you can think of we might match those results against?" "if you want to accuse me, my d. n. a. 's on file." "andrew can get it for you." "look, i am not a killer." "malik was real." "his information was real." "this whole red pines thing that elaine is so proud of, it was a whopping big misdirect." "richard:" "while we were bluffed into using all our assets to cover the missile, the real action was going down in obninsk." "thank you, richard, but i don't need answers from you." "richard: well, but you're asking the wrong questions, ma'am." "do you even know what russia stores at obninsk?" "about 60 tons of separated plutonium." "but it doesn't take 60 tons to make a bomb, does it?" "no." "it only takes 20 pounds, about that much." "our scientists turn up their noses at separated plutonium." "it's not as good as the stuff we use in our bombs, but it will do the job." "is that what malik told you the army of allah had done-- misdirected our assets so they could smuggle separated plutonium out of obninsk?" "in a round stainless-steel container about 10 inches in diameter, made to look like an oversized hockey puck." "and this mr. nuballe, the iranian banker that you leveraged into helping you, did he misdirect you about red pines?" "no. no. nuballe never knew what he was paying for." "he was a cutout, a go-between." "we got the intelligence about the missile from the seller, mr. voitski." "i, uh..." "i trained a young girl." "dara. college student." "used her as a honey trap." "she seduced voitski, had an affair with him." "whenever voitski took her out, we would go through his stuff." "dara. yes." "that's another one of your agents who's no longer with us." "you seem to have been close to her." "training a young girl to seduce older men-- that's tricky." "how did you manage that?" "or should i ask your ex-wife?" "moving on." "what did voitski say when you picked him up?" "cole: we didn't pick him up." "the company felt that voitski was the only ongoing connection to the army of allah, and we felt it was important to leave him out there." "out where, mr. cole?" "and by where, i mean his address." "gabriel: ok, chief." "voitski's parking outside his apartment building." "he's getting out of his car now." "uh-huh. hold on." "hold on a minute." "wait a minute." "ooh, chief." "chief, he's limping towards the front door." "what do you want us to do?" "good lord, buzz." "drive faster." "hang on." "he didn't see you, did he?" "no. no, no, no." "he didn't see us." "uh-huh. ok." "yes, ma'am." "no, we'll wait for you." "sure he didn't see you?" "gabriel: i'm positive." "lieutenant, are you ok?" "uh, oh, yeah. yeah." "wait. hold on a second." "pope told us to bring some extra stuff." "ok." "lieutenant, you're gonna have to wear a gun sooner or later, and i'm feeling sooner very strongly right now." "brenda: it's not that one. it's 614." "mr. voitski!" "yoo-hoo!" "mr. voitski!" "you two turn around." "chief, we need a warrant for that." "oh, you do." "we're on administrative leave." "you two stay right there." "mr. voitski?" "mr. voitski!" "mr. voitski!" "yoo-hoo!" "mr. voitski?" "mr. voitski?" "lieutenant provenza, please pull down mr. voitski's pants." "what?" "pull down his pants, please." "ok, what's going on in there, you two?" "we're just checking to make sure we're alone." "stay by the door." "this is gwen. i need mr. schmidt, please." "hello?" "provenza: chief." "i found the man who killed malik." "does the name voitski ring a bell?" "dear god." "so as far as i'm concerned, my work here is through." "if you want my continued assistance, andrew, identifying malik's friend, finding your mole and the separated plutonium, we're gonna have to change the rules." "what do you want?" "i want my job back with my squad intact, or i hang up, walk away, and you can clean this mess up on your own." "so, andrew, what's it gonna be?" "are you guys--you sure you don't need any help carrying your stuff back to, uh... robbery homicide?" "i'm good. thanks." "great working with you guys." "yeah. bye." "tao: people never take dust... seriously." "oh." "oh." "i'm sorry, commander." "i should have knocked." "is this a bad time?" "no, no." "always happy to see the l. a. p. d. and the f. b. i." "working together." "commander taylor:" "deputy chief johnson." "commander." "so, what should we do with the rest of your stuff?" "ohh!" "i'm so sorry." "i'm not-- not wanting to rush you." "you're not rushing me." "i'm sorry." "glad to have you back, ma'am." "i'll, uh, have my secretary come down later this afternoon and take up the rest of my things." "i can see how anxious you are to get back to work." "i got it." "there you go." "not on the plane." "here, here." "thank you." "thank you, commander." "you're welcome, chief." "agent howard." "man: i thought about going to confession." "he came over here." "he, like, moves all the stuff." "did you see the picture of the fireworks?" "look at this." "who takes pictures of fireworks?" "well... welcome back." "it's nice to see y'all again." "let me just bring everyone up to the minute on the malik fara murder." "malik's killer was found late yesterday, a russian ex-k. g. b. officer by the name of voitski." "has voitski been arrested?" "no, somebody called in a gas leak at voitski's apartment." "gas company comes out, finds voitski murdered, no leak except the blood running out of his head." "someone shoved an ice pick through mr. voitski's ear, into his brain." "so he is kind of a dead end." "and that's a problem because... because malik fara was meeting someone the night he was murdered, and we need to find that person for... all sorts of reasons." "the name of malik's missing friend is most likely one of 60,000 contained on the database of this computer, lieutenant tao." "and lieutenant provenza has certain search criteria that you and detective daniels can use to narrow down the list." "chief, just to be clear about this malik fara, we're investigating a murder that you already solved?" "well, yes, but who murdered the murderer?" "voitski didn't stick an ice pick into his own head." "lieutenant flynn can fill you in on the details." "i can?" "ok, uh... this is what i think we know." "i'd put you in an interview room, mr. cole, but i don't want my squad to hear what we're saying." "finding mr. voitski so freshly dead lessens my confidence in you." "i'm been with richard since yesterday, and i never called anyone. ask him." "pretty sure you're gonna find voitski's d. n. a." "matches what you found on malik's knife." "he killed the boy, not me." "i don't doubt that." "in fact, we may find that voitski killed everyone from fireproof." "but he wasn't acting on his own accord." "he was taking orders from somebody, whether it was the c. i. a. 's mole or the army of allah." "i'm not a traitor." "even so, voitski's yet another person from your dwindling-- woman: excuse me." "your dwindling circle of acquaintances whom we have to talk about in the past tense." "tell me, mr. cole, after you were fired, did you meet with malik again to tell him that there would be no deal with the c. i. a." "and that his life was in danger?" "is that why he carried a kitchen knife in his pocket?" "i felt that the army of allah might find out about him and i wanted to warn him." "that warning may have cost malik his life." "this is where i get off." "wait for me downstairs with elaine." "ms. johnson." "i was wondering if anyone from our end had spoken to you about the investigation, besides andrew." "no, they haven't." "ok. me, either." "just... just wondering." "i think you need to find someone else to finish up this job." "brenda, you surprise me." "i moved as quickly as possible to give you what you said you needed." "voitski may have been murdered because the wrong people found out i was helping you, and from here on out they'll be watching me, just like they watched larry cole until he took them to malik, and just like they watched malik" "until he took them to his friend." "you discovered how they were following the boy?" "is that a transmitter?" "i found it in malik's flashlight." "but they probably had some transmitters imbedded in his shoes as well." "you were right, andrew." "malik's murder was a mistake." "they could have killed him ages ago, but the army of allah wanted him alive so they could follow him to his friend." "they used him." "now they'll be using me." "brenda, do you remember what to do when you discover you're under surveillance?" "never acknowledge you're being watched unless you can derive some tactical advantage." "and if i were to replace you because the army of allah knew what you were doing, i would be-- acknowledging the surveillance." "and it would stop." "well, i'm not interested in using l. a. p. d. officers as bait." "wouldn't you like to know who's following her?" "i would." "there's a way that we might turn this around to our advantage." "is there anyone connected with this investigation that you would really like to question?" "brenda: this might be a fool's errand, but keep your eyes peeled for anyone who might be watching me." "and remember, i'm not wearing an earpiece, so if i don't hear the signal, i won't know to come out." "ru'yah fara?" "yes, but call me rita." "my son was hoping to play in the warsaw competition next month." "michael wasn't running away from home." "he was coming back from piano lesson." "he must have gotten on the wrong bus." "you called malik michael?" "michael is a less confusing name for americans." "the other man who came by... detective mchale, he said that maybe my son might be a terrorist." "or a suicide bomber." "but this isn't true." "michael's father was an important journalist, shot to death for promoting peace." "michael would never associate himself with his father's murderers." "he... he worshiped his father's memory." "and you're from lebanon, right?" "yes, beirut." "i came here after my husband was assassinated." "the other scrapbooks, they were before he was born, but the 2 on top, it's all my son." "look at his face, and then tell me that my son was a terrorist." "look at them." "please." "that's their third time around the block, lieutenant." "i got it." "you copy, sanchez?" "copy that." "flynn: get ready to signal the chief." "i haven't done anything with michael's room." "it still feels like... like he might come back." "do you know if michael had any friends or... was he dating anyone that you know of?" "he had time for nothing but the piano." "he practiced constantly." "michael was going to warsaw, you said?" "did he have his airline ticket and his passport?" "yes, of course." "can i see it, please?" "i don't, uh, know exactly where they are, um, this minute." "really?" "what country was michael a citizen of, technically?" "lebanon." "do you know anything about these teddy bears?" "excuse me?" "there's an awful lot of teddy bears on the bottom of your son's closet." "not the kind of thing a 16-year-old boy normally has." "they are a kind of joke between michael and angela carter." "angela carter?" "who's she?" "she's the daughter of michael's piano teacher." "she plays the flute." "michael was helping her with the concerto." "and how do the bears figure into that?" "when angela played especially well, michael would give her a bear." "and when she didn't, she gave him one." "looks like this angela carter was a little hard on herself." "flynn: here they come, sanchez. go!" "this angela carter." "could i have her contact information, please?" "and if i could borrow your scrapbooks for a few days, going through them might help me figure out why your son was shot to death." "and a large trash bag, that would be very helpful." "as soon as possible, please." "thank you." "go, go, go, go, go, go!" "it's them!" "driver, turn off the engine, now!" "hands!" "let's see your hands!" "let's see your hands!" "don't move!" "passenger side!" "hey!" "l. a. p. d." "open the car door, and let us see your hands." "let's go!" "open 'em." "slowly, easy!" "back door, too." "come on, open 'em." "there!" "he's coming out!" "put your hands where we can see them." "driver, do not move!" "clear the vehicle!" "chief." "do it!" "now!" "hold your positions!" "man: chief?" "chief?" "brenda:" "you already know this, but i'm deputy chief brenda leigh johnson of the l. a. p. d. , and i feel we ought to have a little chat." "please, i am a doctor." "my patient needs his medicine." "please?" "ms. johnson, i offer you peace." "what's your name?" "abdul al-fulani." "and why are you watching me?" "your tone is disrespectful, and i do not like women with questions." "well, you can dislike me all the way through your answers, sir." "i hate to take you downtown." "it might mean separating you from your physician, whom you seem to need." "so, why are you watching me?" "i'm not watching you." "i'm in america observing an empire on its death bed, a tourist doing charitable work among the addicted and sexually diseased." "so you're not a member of the army of allah?" "i avoid politics." "what do you know about malik fara?" "why were you pursuing him?" "i did not pursue him, ms. johnson." "i'm a spiritual man, devoted to spreading the teachings of muhammad, may a blessing of peace be upon him." "and this boy, this malik, it was not the child i ever attempted to engage." "you're more interested in someone like voitski, spiritually?" "i could just arrest you." "on what charge?" "criticizing america?" "what other crime have i committed?" "but by all means, arrest me." "dispossess yourself of all your laws and so-called freedoms." "i will be twice the winner in that contest." "if you tear down your own house to prosecute me, i rejoice." "look, doctor." "if i need to speak with you again, how would i get in touch with you?" "i'm listed in the phone book." "come and see me whenever you like." "and understand this, too, ms. johnson, allah is not your enemy." "i know that, sir." "you are." "thank you, buzz." "if you could wait outside for a minute, please." "yes, ma'am." "so, i see it." "this malik was real, larry cole was right, and i was very, very wrong." "now, what can i do to fix this?" "oh." "analyze all the information i've given you and tell me a story." "ok, fine." "first, you think voitski might have been killed by his employers inside the army of allah?" "you don't?" "no." "you told me his wound was dressed and sewn up with dissolvable stitches, yet there were no knife wounds reported at the hospitals on the night he was attacked." "so you think abdul al-fulani's doctor took care of him?" "why would they treat voitski if they were only gonna kill him?" "so if i were telling the story of voitski's death, i would look for someone who had a really good reason to kill him." "malik's friend inside the army of allah." "voitski was shooting at him, and one really good way to get voitski to stop that-- would be to shove an ice pick in his head." "always, always works." "what can you tell me about abdul al-fulani here?" "66, bad health, member of a wealthy jordanian family." "he's been living in the united states for the last 7 years, as he said, representing islamic charities." "i had no idea he'd gone blind or that he was positively connected to the army of allah." "honestly, we never considered abdul that important." "why do you suppose abdul would tell me that he did not try to engage malik?" "well, instead of sneaking people into the country, the army of allah tries recruiting disaffected americans." "abdul was telling you malik was not one of those kids." "but why would he be giving me a hand?" "must think he's gonna find out who malik's friend was right after you do." "and the boy was using these stuffed animals to communicate with his new buddy?" "mm-hmm." "it's a shame for us malik's friend won't be looking for him anymore." "yeah, still... he might be useful." "you never know." "anything else i can do?" "i'm just sitting here." "here are the scrapbooks that i got from malik's mother." "if you could go through them, carefully, see if you recognize a face, an eyebrow, a scar." "use that fantastic memory of yours to find someone inside the army of allah i can connect to malik." "my fantastic memory." "well, i'll do what i can." "although, just stating the obvious, i don't seem to be as good at all this as i used to be." "we haven't found malik's friend, but we have narrowed down the list on this database a little." "first i eliminated everyone under 6 feet." "then i knocked out everyone without 2 legs." "men too old to run." "how many possibilities are we down to?" "14, 762." "oh." "approximately." "ok, what if we dropped everyone who couldn't have been in l. a." "the night of the murder?" "well, to factor that in, we'd need some real-time surveillance and customs data." "now, we could get it from the terrorist information network, but we'd need to know someone really, really helpful at the f. b. i." "to get our hands on it." "hey, chief. i did that background check on malik's mother, rita fara, age 35-- young to have a kid malik's age." "anyway, 17 years ago, rita fled from lebanon to germany as a political refugee." "and in 1993, she immigrated to the united states with malik and about $500,000 in her bank account." "and she still has some money laying around." "so malik was born in germany." "maybe he's a kraut." "no. no!" "germany doesn't determine citizenship by birth or residency, only by bloodline." "still?" "yeah." "really?" "uh, chief, i have that flute player, angela carter, in interview room one." "you want to talk to her?" "yes. thank you." "i don't really know anything about the murder." "of course not." "we're just trying to get a better picture of malik." "you practiced with him?" "uh, as much as i could." "he was an amazing player." "uh, my father's a concert pianist and he teaches a very, very few people." "your father was getting malik ready to go to warsaw?" "malik wanted to go, but... but what?" "his stupid mother rita." "have you met her?" "she kept begging him not to compete." "it drove my father crazy." "i mean, how else is malik supposed to get noticed?" "and his mother was actually blocking him from going to warsaw." "how was she blocking him?" "malik doesn't... didn't have a passport." "and his mother wouldn't let him apply to the lebanese embassy to get one." "it's really unfair." "rita is such a bitch." "have you seen her?" "she has this dyed blonde hair and she wears cosmetic contacts." "she's--she's obsessed with blending in." "once after recital, malik introduced her as his mother, and she actually took a step back, like she was ashamed of him." "and she is such a liar." "malik said she used to lie about everything." "he hated her." "but despite malik's mother, he found another way to get a passport." "is that it?" "uh... no." "i mean, he never said anything to me about that." "someone was helping malik get a u. s. passport, angela." "really?" "does this mean anything to you?" "uh... malik told me never to talk about it." "that if i did... if the wrong people found out that i had helped him, then i might be in danger." "we're not the wrong people." "and you're in danger anyway, angela." "even more so if you don't tell us what happened." "malik told me he had met someone who was going to help him become an american citizen, but that it hadn't really worked out." "so they were gonna maybe go to canada." "and that he needed some way to communicate with this friend secretly." "so he would... he... he would open up the bear, put a message inside, close it up again, and pass it off to you?" "and you handed the bear off to a person?" "no, i--i... i never met anyone, ever." "i would just--the next day after school, i would--i would drop it off, or see if anything had been left for me." "i never saw anyone, even once." "and where did you pick up and leave the bear?" "there's a church down on fairfax, in between santa monica and sunset." "i would leave the bear between the prayer books, in the fifth pew from the door on the left." "thank you, angela." "take sanchez and check out that church." "maybe one of the priests, or the rector, or the pope found a teddy bear there once and put it in the lost and found." "i'm on it." "chief." "yes?" "elaine says elaine's found something." "these are the scrapbooks she told you were unimportant?" "the pictures of rita fara taken before malik was born... you recognize someone in it?" "no, i recognize some place." "look what elaine has found." "provenza would like to look, too." "rita fara is not from beirut." "she's not even from lebanon." "rita fara is from amman, jordan." "ahh!" "oh, for goodness' sake." "hmm!" "you're being paged and you're not answering." "andrew?" "he'd like an update." "oh. i can't give him one." "why?" "i'm having trust issues. with andrew?" "who didn't tell me everything;" "with malik's mother who lied about being from lebanon;" "with larry cole, elaine donahue, who never trusted each other;" "with richard branch, who never trusted them." "in fact, the only person going out of their way to be helpful might be a terrorist." "so this terrorist guy, abdul al-fulani-- he was helpful?" "which means that he's confident that anything i discover, he's going to find out about it in a hurry, which means... you've got trust issues." "some of which i'm hoping that rita fara will help me solve." "i've sent a black and white to pick her up." "so could you stall andrew for me, please?" "brenda, he's from washington, d. c." "and if there's one thing people from washington, d. c." "tend to recognize, it's stalling." "i just--i know there's something in these scrapbooks that i'm missing." "i mean, why would rita fara lie to me about being from jordan?" "and why would someone inside the army of allah want malik to get a u. s. passport or to go to warsaw?" "i just--i need more information before i speak to andrew again." "i know that anxious, crazed look, and i know that there are very few words i can say that will actually register right now, so let them be these:" "i am so happy to have you and your squad back at work that i am willing to lie to the person who made it all possible if you really need the time." "and i do." "thank you, will." "mm-hmm." "oh." "if i don't get this right, you think they'll kick me out again?" "don't think like that." "so they will." "it's all about the variables." "a computer is just a tool, and a tool is only as good as the person using it." "booya!" "chief." "it's an odd thing to report, but-- there were no teddy bears in the church." "yeah, i didn't know quite how to say it." "oh, shoot." "thank you." "lieutenant tao, how are we doing here?" "the abridged version, please." "when last we saw our heroic database, there were 14, 762 possibles." "since then, with the access to the terrorist information network provided by the very, very special agent howard, the identity of malik's friend has been narrowed down to 2, 109." "oh, that's still too many." "we're waiting on some information from customs, classified stuff that even agent howard can't access without approval." "i'll need fewer names to even begin to investigate individuals. thank you." "can i have a moment?" "right now?" "i need to speak to rita fara." "yeah. right now." "i'm looking at some of the names here, and, brenda... these guys are really dangerous." "and you get into the car with one of them?" "no, not one of them, 3 of them, but that was only because they were following me." "why are people like this following you?" "where did this database come from?" "who got you involved with this?" "are you really going after terrorists here?" "i would answer all your questions, but i signed a confidentiality agreement." "you trying to reassure me?" "'cause you're doing a terrible job." "chief." "hmm?" "just got word from the black and white that went to pick up that fara woman." "oh, tell me she's ok." "well, i can't." "looks like she packed up and left." "ohh, for heaven's sake!" "i want to thank you-- how much longer are you going to keep treating my mother like a criminal?" "and after she helped you, too." "cynthia, i don't need for you to defend me." "there's no reason for you to be here in the first place." "as far as i'm concerned, y'all can go home." "i'm getting no word today." "if i need you again, i will call you." "and thank you, elaine." "you did help, a lot." "what?" "oh, elaine helped you?" "how'd she help you?" "i mean, she get some sort of chance to clear her name?" "mr. cole, my best advice to you is to go home and get some rest." "oh, yeah?" "what am i resting up for, huh?" "ms. johnson, andrew called, and he--he seriously wants to speak with you." "good. i'll call him when i get a chance." "elaine." "may i... may i know how everything turns out or will you... elaine. that's really not my place to say." "she has to protect her sources... and methods." "can't let the people know her secrets." "certainly, it's a drill you know, mother." "cynthia, why can't you ever just wait in the car?" "so if you call, you call." "come on. i'm cranky, i'm exhausted, and i need to smoke." "geopolitics, national security, war and peace... what's a daughter compared to all that?" "you people never think about the families at all." "so, i was so busy looking for something, i didn't notice what was missing." "scrapbooks, scrapbooks." "can i have the scrapbooks?" "oh, i got 'em right here." "thank you." "the real story is not what is here but what isn't." "where are the pictures of rita's husband?" "she's got all these scrapbooks and no wedding photos." "not one picture of the father malik worshiped." "rita wasn't married." "it would explain why she didn't want her son to get a passport, why she was anxious about being seen with her son in public, why she dyes her hair and wears colored contacts." "she was in disguise most of her adult life, hiding from her family." "because she had an illegitimate baby?" "in jordan, if a woman loses her virginity before marriage, even if she's raped, one of her male relatives kills her to protect the family's honor." "you think the guy in the car was malik's father?" "why else would someone trying to defect reach out to us through malik?" "make conditions based on malik's needs." "and why hasn't malik's friend tried to contact us?" "because his reason for defecting is dead." "it's a guess, lieutenant flynn, but an informed one." "let's see what it gets us." "malik was 16 years old." "let's be conservative and add another 19 years to that." "so knock off everyone on this list under 35 years of age." "and then let's cross our fingers and eliminate everyone who wasn't living in jordan during that time." "how hard is that to do?" "wait a sec." "oof. that age thing blew out all but 246." "now, jordan, and the year 1992." "that's going to be big." "we're down to 8 guys... and one of them is... oh." "this guy look familiar?" "abdul's physician." "dr. al-thani." "you trust your doctor with your illness, why not your secrets?" "oh, come on. i mean, you think malik's father is gonna see his son get shot, then run off and leave?" "he left malik when he was a baby." "why not do it again?" "the trouble is, if i try to find evidence that proves this... well, you might tip off the wrong people before you get to this guy." "exactly what they're hoping for." "but if dr. al-thani is the guy from the car who was there the night malik was killed, then he knows someone else we're looking for." "this is our two-fer." "and abdul did say to come by whenever i wanted." "oh, hey, hey..." "whoa, whoa, whoa... you're gonna go to this nut job terrorist's house?" "come on. what are you gonna do when you get there?" "you're gonna ask this doctor in front of al-fulani if he wants to defect with you?" "no." "i'm gonna have malik do it for me." "i'm unused to hosting women to whom i am not related." "is it courteous to offer you something to drink?" "i won't be long. i" "just a tiny follow-up on our earlier interview, because after you and i spoke, ru'yah fara, malik's mother, disappeared." "were there signs of a struggle?" "no. there were signs of rapidly packed bags, and she had no reason to be afraid of us." "not of me, i can assure you." "as i've told you before, i am a spiritual man who devoted his life-- i know what you are, sir." "i believe that someone inside the army of allah was tryin' to pass some pretty important secrets along to the united states government." "among those secrets was information concerning 20 pounds of separated plutonium and the name of the c. i. a. officer who helped you get it." "these are the lies told by that infidel boy." "i believe it's true." "because you wish to be deceived." "no." "because malik fara speaks from the dead." "well, that is absurd, miss johnson." "and even were it not, what is the word of a dead boy worth in a court of law?" "we'll see." "i need to know where that plutonium is, and i want to meet the c. i. a. officer who helped you get it." "and i want you to arrange that meeting as soon as possible, sir." "i'm afraid you and i have nothing else to say to each other, miss johnson." "all right then, sir." "good night." "flynn: no sign of him over here." "provenza: what about over there?" "nada." "doctor is about an hour late." "you know, chief, this may not be the guy." "he's the guy, and he'll show." "i left explicit instructions inside malik's bear telling' the doctor exactly what i wanted and exactly what i would do if i didn't get it." "so unless he wants to be arrested for murder tomorrow morning, he'll show." "everyone but flynn, stay as still as possible." "tar pits in the middle of the city." "and they say l. a." "has no center." "you know, something's bothering me a little." "what's that, sergeant?" "this whole c. i. a. thing." "i don't know how much i trust them." "you know how i feel about the people who work there, you know?" "i know." "it's a... gray area." "i remember once hearing a speech about what it meant to be an officer of the c. i. a. , and the man who gave this speech talked about the struggle to control civilization, and how we're always fighting the same fight." "and he used the dark ages as an example." "and he talked about how, on the one side, you had the pragmatic king who was greedy and power-hungry, and basically took advantage of people whenever he could." "and on the other side, you had the idealistic church forcing' everyone to follow the same rules, believe the same things, all that." "neither the king nor the church was ever completely right or wrong." "both sides ended up doin' terrible things to get what they wanted." "really terrible things." "but the point of the story was this-- that this struggle from the dark ages had been goin' on forever." "and the church and the king might take on different forms and philosophies, but that they would always fight each other." "pragmatists and idealists." "and then most times, you're better off standing' on the sidelines and lettin' them duke it out." "but every once in a while, one side or the other decides it might be better to just blow up the whole world, just get its own way." "and when that happens, you can't stand on the sidelines anymore." "you have to pick a team." "and so, for tonight, anyway, we're servin' the king." "gabriel: chief, somebody's comin'." "all right, sergeant." "no one moves until both parties come together." "uh, here comes the doctor, chief, and he's heading right for the bridge." "keep movin'." "don't look at him." "hey, chief, there's somebody else here." "hold still, everyone." "let them get together." "hello, doctor." "i gather we're in trouble somehow." "yes, uh, we are." "we all must leave tonight." "personally, i think we stayed too long already, especially with voitski getting pinned in the head." "what about our financial arrangements?" "yes, we have transferred the last $10 million to your swiss bank account." "time to enjoy that little villa on the mediterranean, yes?" "yes. we should move to the exit." "i have transportation for you." "they're moving out, chief." "all right, then." "go for it." "but be careful. one of them might be armed." "we must hurry. come." "damn it." "go." "you led me into a trap, you-- he-he has a gun!" "he-he has a gun!" "he has a gun!" "what was that shot?" "!" "don't move!" "brenda:" "what was that shot?" "!" "don't move. you move, it'll be the last thing you do, you understand me?" "!" "who's hurt?" "!" "is anyone hurt?" "pat down the doctor." "we don't want any surprises in the van." "let's go." "how do you like that?" "spy boy here took a shot at me." "you two-- you two follow us." "lieutenant flynn, sergeant gabriel?" "nobody's hit, nobody's hit." "we got him." "it's richard branch." "we got him." "ah." "all right." "all right, everyone." "escort the van back here." "turn off the headpieces." "and, um, buzz, give the doctor your headphones." "don't bother arresting me." "don't bother reading me my rights." "my knowledge of the army of allah is extensive, and the agency would rather i share it than go to jail." "why not do both?" "we should meet." "i'm special agent fritz howard of the f. b. i." "you're not going back to the agency." "so just shut up and sit very still." "brenda: dr. al-thani, can you hear me?" "yes. is... is... is malik still alive?" "no, sir. he's not." "i'm sorry. i tried not to mislead you on that point." "and i hate to arrest you, but we don't have much time." "how much longer before your absence will be noticed at the al-fulani house?" "uh, 2 hours at the most." "i--i must go back." "no, you can't go back, doctor." "you can't keep me here!" "doctor, we've got an awfully good set of prints from that ice pick that you shoved in voitski's ear." "so if you don't help us, i'm going to arrest you for murder." "voitski murdered my son!" "you killed your son when you ran off and left him." "you actually sewed voitski's leg up after he murdered your son!" "i had to!" "there were people there." "why--why did they do this?" "there was no reason to kill malik!" "they made a mistake." "but you can make them pay for it." "or you can spend the rest of your life in an american prison." "you understand me?" "are you still with me?" "what do you want?" "do you know where the separated plutonium is?" "yes, yes." "it's in hamburg." "brenda: is it where we can get to it?" "yes, i can give you the address." "well, then speak fast, doctor." "because the second people know you're gone, we lose everything." "german authorities called." "they found the package." "oh, that's a relief anyhow." "yeah, but you know you haven't exactly played this by andrew's rules." "oh, i think i got it covered." "thanks." "mm-hmm." "good work, everybody." "glad to have you back, detective sanchez." "lieutenant provenza." "thank you, chief pope, sir." "thank you, chief pope, sir." "glad to have you back, sanchez." "doctor." "i... i heard my son playing in the back of an auditorium." "after his mother left, i went to meet him... because it was so beautiful what he could do." "i was just trying to help him." "did you ever identify yourself to him as his father?" "did you ever tell malik why you were trying to help him?" "that's enough." "uh, thank you, gentlemen." "brenda?" "yeah?" "you went back on our deal." "i did exactly what you asked." "the germans have the separated plutonium, and the f. b. i." "has richard." "and you have dr. al-thani." "and i'm told that richard branch will be made available to your debriefers whenever you want him." "your job was given back to you on the condition-- andrew, while i appreciate the agency's assistance, since i've given the f. b. i. full credit on a major espionage arrest, they're my new best friends." "and i have given you a murderer." "and you have no idea how hard that is for me to do." "pope:" "look, i think i get what's going on here." "the c. i. a." "is embarrassed about an intelligence failure... again. they're used to it." "brenda did her job." "you did yours." "can't this just be over?" "yes, well, i've expressed the company's official irritation." "hmm. it was nice seeing you again, brenda." "i wish you well." "i do... wish you well." "you, too, sir." "oh, and if anyone asks you, i was as mad as a hornet." "thank you, sir." "did i hear the words "good job" in there anywhere?" "yeah, but it was in code." "ohh." "i like it right there." "your picture." "jim provenza!" "what are you doin' here?" "it's late!" "why aren't you home?" "'course, ideally, you would-- you know, you'd hang it up right now and put it back where it belongs, or pragmatically, you might just set it down on the floor." "but you see, your instinct is to split the difference so that even if it's not perfectly placed, you can still see it." "aren't you tired?" "yeah. yeah." "but i hadn't been here in a while, and, i don't know, i kinda missed the place." "plus, before he left tonight, flynn piled up my desk with every coffee cup in the joint, old case files." "i think he even brought a little trash from his house." "so i just thought that before i cleaned it up, i might, uh... take you out to breakfast." "you know some place fast and cheap?" "fast and cheap is my specialty." "so come on." "let's grab a bite to eat, and then when we get back, i'll hang your picture up so you don't go nuts." "well, how can i refuse an invitation like that?" "just give me one second."