Burn Notice

Burn Notice

Burn Notice is an American television series created by Matt Nix which originally aired on the USA Network for a total of seven seasons from June 28, 2007, to September 12, 2013. The show stars Jeffrey Donovan, Gabrielle Anwar, Bruce Campbell, Sharon Gless, and beginning in season four, Coby Bell.

Year:
2007
10,396 Views

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Getting information out of hotels requires a delicate touch. One whiff that you're snooping and you'll just hear a lot of, "We can't give out that information." You need to get them on your side, convince them that you're someone who needs customer service.

Michael Westen:
[to desk clerk] Excuse me. I'm wondering if you could help me. A... friend of mine was staying at the hotel and, uh, we were supposed to hook up.

Hotel Desk Clerk:
Mr. Westen? We've been expecting you.

[Hotel Desk Clerk, nametagged Janet, hands Michael a hotel envelope with his name written on it]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Of course, when the hotel clerk turns out to be expecting you, that makes things a little easier.

Michael Westen:
Left it... for me? You sure?

Hotel Desk Clerk:
Yes. He had the bellman drop it off. He said you would be 6'1", exquisitely dressed, with impeccable posture.

[Michael opens the envelope, which was not sealed, and pulls out a hotel memo pad page with "Room 302" written on it]

Michael Westen:
Huh.

[Fade to third floor hallway, Michael approaching room 302]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] In the world of espionage, there are a lot of ways to introduce yourself: you can use official channels; you can use a cover I.D.; you can use encrypted communication. Whatever the method, that first contact tells you a lot about a person.

[as Michael reaches the open door to Room 302, flames suddenly burst up throughout the room]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Especially when someone introduces himself by firebombing a hotel room.

[title card, "Metal Gear" alert sting]

[last lines]

[Michael parks the Charger inside the gates at his place. Sam Axe is sitting on the steps. Michael gets out, read's Sam's face]

Michael Westen:
What's wrong, Sam?

Sam Axe:
Well, I've been doin' some research, tryin' ta connect the dots to find our killer, you know? So, there was the hotel thing, right? Then I followed up your hunch about that stadium shooting in South America. Six police officials shot in a soccer stadium, six shots at the marine stadium.

Michael Westen:
No one claimed credit for either incident, though.

Sam Axe:
Right. Thing is, you were off in Bosnia when they did the follow-up, and both times there was a lot of talk about the same guy: Mason Gilroy.

Michael Westen:
[nods] I've heard the name. Are you sure?

Sam Axe:
Yep. There was some cologne on that note you got at the hotel. Stuff was called Monaco Silver. Last sighting of Gilroy...?

Michael Westen:
Monaco.

Sam Axe:
What a coincidence! So I came here to tell ya...

Sam Axe:
[takes out a cell phone]... and I found this by the gate. He knows where you live, Mike.

Michael Westen:
[takes phone] And he didn't kill me yet.

[Michael redials the last number called. It rings once, then picks up]

Michael Westen:
[into phone] Gilroy.

Mason Gilroy:
[over phone] You've figured out my name. Good for you. I knew you were a clever boy.

Michael Westen:
Are we *done* *playing*.

Sam Axe:
That is the question, isn't it. I noticed you didn't sound the alarm with the authorities, which I think is a promising sign. I think... perhaps we should meet.

Michael Westen:
Just give me a time and a place.

Michael Westen:
Next. Come on.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] The ironic thing about infiltrating a group of criminals is that the only way to successfully be accepted...

Michael Westen:
Next.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] is to actually be helpful.

Stan:
Stan Werner.

Michael Westen:
Have a seat. Next. Next.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] If you're useless or lazy, you'll probably wind up getting shot.

Michael Westen:
Good. Sit down. Next.

Judy:
J-J-Judy - J-Judy - Judy...

Michael Westen:
Come on. Spit your name out! Come on!

Judy:
[handing over I.D] Judy Eppleb-b-bee.

Michael Westen:
[enters "Epplebee, Judy" and checks it off below "Werner, Stan" and "Hogan, Ryan"] Okay. Thanks.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] You have to be the best little worker you can be...

Michael Westen:
Sit d- Get her to sit down.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] all to give yourself room to look for the best opportunity to destroy the people you're working for.

Michael Westen:
[to Madeline] Hey! Blondie! Yeah. With the spiked hair. Come here! Yeah, you! See anybody else spiky and blonde? Show me some I.D.

Madeline Westen:
[sotto voce] What the hell is going on, Michael? Tell me you have a plan.

Michael Westen:
[sotto voce] I do, but I'm gonna need your help.

Madeline Westen:
[scoffs] What a surprise.

Michael Westen:
[loudly] Okay, smart lady, you're going to have a job. You're gonna keep everyone in that room calm. You think you can do that?

Madeline Westen:
[with insulted defiance] I think I can do that.

Michael Westen:
Good. Go sit down. Get her to go sit down. Come on. Move it along.

Michael Westen:
[with Landes distracted, Michael types in "Marsden, Jack"] Next. Wait. Hold on. Where are the guys? I need a guy. I need a "Jack Marsden".

Landes:
Jack Marsden? There's no other guys in here.

Michael Westen:
Damn it. Gentlemen, we've got a problem.

Jesse Porter:
Look, Mike, I appreciate you filling in for Sam on this job. I really do. I just got to ask you, are you sure this is a good time for you to be taking freelance work?

Michael Westen:
Well, the way I see it, Sam's got his hands full, and you need the help.

Jesse Porter:
Yeah, and your CIA contact is like this close to discovering you've been lying to her.

Michael Westen:
All the more reason for me to stay busy and out of her way. Just tell me what the job is.

Jesse Porter:
It's a- it's a corporate-security gig. Client's name is Richard Gronbach, billionaire. He owns fast-food joints and big-box stores. Some industrial-espionage types have been targeting him.

Michael Westen:
Do we know what they're after?

Jesse Porter:
No. No. That's what we have to find out. I got in with them posing as a middleman for stolen financial data. The other day, they asked me if I know a decryption guy who could do a quick job. Enter Michael Westen, a.k.a. Matt Graham. They're meeting at a private airport that Gronbach uses up north. They want to hack some airport computers.

Michael Westen:
I think I can handle that.

Jesse Porter:
[nervously] There's one more little- little thing. Uh, I needed someone to take some surveillance photos in the parking lot. Only problem is, all my guys look like FBI agents. So, I figured no one would notice, like, a...

Jesse Porter:
[clears throat] you know, like a 60ish-year-old woman sitting in a car.

Michael Westen:
You called my mom.

Jesse Porter:
I'll call her and tell her it's a no-go. It's - I...

Michael Westen:
Just tell me it's safe.

Jesse Porter:
They're white-collar guys, Mike. It's a cakewalk. It's just somethin' to keep your mind off things while Sam and Fi deal with your CIA problem.

Lieutenant Seth Casey:
This is Lieutenant Seth Casey, Miami Metro Police.

[ "Lt. Casey" / "Tough S.O.B." ]

Lieutenant Seth Casey:
Whoever you are, if you want this to work out, you will pick up the phone. Right now. We need to talk.

Josh Wagner:
W-what do I do? What do I say?

Sam Axe:
Mike, this train's about to start moving real fast. It's not too late for you to hop off, but I'm staying.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] In a hostage crisis, first contact with the police is critical. One wrong word from a hostage taker can be the difference between the start of negotiations or the start of an armed assault.

Lieutenant Seth Casey:
Pick up the phone!

Michael Westen:
[as Josh goes to answer the phone] Stop!

Josh Wagner:
He said I should...

Michael Westen:
Leave it. You sound like you're gonna jump off a bridge. You answer a phone like that, and you'll have a SWAT team banging through the door before you hang up. I'll get it.

Michael Westen:
[to Sam] I leave when you leave.

Michael Westen:
[timidly into the phone] Hello? Hello?

Lieutenant Seth Casey:
Who am I speaking with?

Michael Westen:
He says I can't answer any of your questions. He says that... no one will get hurt as long as... you don't... come any closer.

Lieutenant Seth Casey:
O-Okay, but tell him I can't help him... u-unless I can talk to him.

Michael Westen:
He-he says I got to go.

Lieutenant Seth Casey:
Wait, wait, wait. Don't hang up. Tell him the line's open. Anytime he wants to talk, all he has to do is...

[Michael hangs up]

Michael Westen:
You hung up on him?

Josh Wagner:
This is more of a "less is more" situation. I'm just buying time.

Sam Axe:
Okay, Josh, we're gonna help you get your money back, but only if you let us call the shots.

Josh Wagner:
Are you sure about this? You could go to jail.

Sam Axe:
Right now we're just two friends trying to end this peacefully. As long as it stays that way, Mike and I can get your money back and stay out of jail. Deal?

Josh Wagner:
[sighs, shakes hands] Deal.

Michael Westen:
Josh. [Josh is distracted for a moment, long enough for Sam to get the gun from him]

Michael Westen:
[Explosion] [Cell Phone Rings] Hello?

Carla:
Hello, Michael.

Michael Westen:
Sounds like you're having quite a party out there.

Carla:
Indeed we are, and you're the guest of honor. [Michael pointing his gun] No need for that, Michael. The shooting's all over. I hope you're not too disappointed.

Michael Westen:
You can see me? Oh, I wish I could see you. I thought we were gonna meet.

Carla:
We will. First some business.

Michael Westen:
Yeah, sweetie. I thought we were gonna discuss why you burned me.

Carla:
We've had our eye on you for a while, Michael.

Michael Westen:
I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name.

Carla:
No. You didn't. Why don't you call me Carla. Go over to the car. We have something we want you to take care of for us.

Michael Westen:
A job?

Carla:
Don't call it a job. Call it a favor.

Michael Westen:
[Muffled Screaming] I assume it has to do with the guy you've got gift-wrapped and duct-taped.

Carla:
His name is Jimmy. He's someone else we asked for a favor. You see, he decided to skip town instead.

Michael Westen:
Oh. So this is your employee retention program.

Carla:
You could call it that. He needs to go back to Miami and do as he's told. You need to help him.

Michael Westen:
I do? And why's that?

Carla:
We have his wife and daughter. If you don't help, what happens to them? [Sirens Wailing] Oh, and one more thing. Jimmy called 911 when he saw our team. [Sirens Wailing] You probably wanna move along.

Michael Westen:
I do this, and then we meet.

Carla:
I keep my promises.

Michael Westen:
I'll see what I can do. [Michael kicks Jimmy. Jimmy sobs] Don't move.

Madeline Westen:
Are you home, Michael? There are two FBI agents here to see you. They say they're your friends.

Michael Westen:
[walks into the house] Hi, "friends."

[ "Lane and Harris" / "Not Michael's Friends" ]

Agent Lane:
Hey, Westen, uh, sorry to drop in like this but...

Agent Harris:
We, uh, need your help with something, off the books?

Michael Westen:
Last time I asked for *your* help, you both laughed in my face.

Agent Harris:
Hey, hear us out, will you? A guy like you might need a favor from the FBI someday.

Michael Westen:
[pause] I'm listening.

Agent Lane:
[opens a file] You're looking at James Bailey. He rus a non-profit for marine preservation and he's a blood donor, supports public radio...

Michael Westen:
I get it. He's a good guy.

Agent Harris:
A really good guy. And he's wanted dead by a Turkish syndicate. He witnessed a murder they pulled and he's taking the stand next week.

Agent Lane:
Harris and I were prepping his testimony with him.

Michael Westen:
I'm guessing we're coming up to the part where you got shot in the arm?

Agent Lane:
Hitter for the Turks found the safehouse we were working in right before the storm hit, opened up on us with a modified Seiga-12K. Bailey took off like a bat out of hell. We don't know where he is.

Michael Westen:
Let's back up. You got ambushed by someone carrying a fully automatic shotgun and all you ended up with is a scratch on your arm?

Agent Lane:
Maybe the guys thought dropping two Feds was a dumb thing to do. Maybe he's a hitman with a heart of gold. You're missing the point.

Michael Westen:
Then stop bleeding all over my Mom's table and get to it.

Agent Harris:
Look, these Turks, they're into drugs, human smuggling, murder, you name it.

Agent Lane:
Bailey's testimony can cut the head off their organization and they know it. They want him dead.

Agent Harris:
The guy's spooked. He's in the wind and he's gonna try to stay that way. Now, we'd find him ourselves, but we're due back at HQ. We're looking at suspension, or worse.

Michael Westen:
How would you find him if you weren't busy getting suspended?

Agent Lane:
Lady pulling her patio furniture in saw Bailey steal a black Toyota pickup a few miles from the safehouse. That's the license plate number. Only lead we've got.

Michael Westen:
What about the gun? A black pickup isn't as rare as a modified Saiga-12K. You wanna find Bailey, you find the guy trying to kill him. Tracking the gun might put us on his trail...

Agent Harris:
Did... you say "us"?

Michael Westen:
I'll look into the gun, see if I can point you towards the hitter. And you *will* owe me. [ "Lane and Harris" / "The Clients" ]

[first lines]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] In the world of intelligence, taking down an entire covert network is the ultimate challenge. It's not something you can do alone.

Michael Westen:
[black-and-white flashback] You.

Raines:
[black-and-white flashback] Welcome back.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] You need the resources of an entire intelligence agency behind you. You need solid intelligence that can point you in the right direction

Michael Westen:
[v.o. flashback] That list is the key to destroying the people who burned me.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] But that's just the starting point. You're not after an individual person; you're after dozens of people, all of them hiding, all of them with resources and skills, all of them fighting you by any means necessary. It's a gigantic jigsaw puzzle of information that requires months of research and analysis where one target leads to the next: a courier picked off the suburban street leads to a spy hiding out as a diplomat in a foreign embassy leads to a hardened group of armed assassins in another place entirely. Sometimes it's a surgical operation done with discrete teams that no one ever hears about; other times, it's all-out war; but one thing is always the same: with each piece of the puzzle, you find you understand your enemy more clearly, you penetrate the secrecy that shields people behind the scenes, working your way to the top of the network to the people pulling the strings. You keep fighting, trying to put that last piece of the puzzle in place, trying to find that last person who will give you the answers you're looking for.

Sam Axe:
Hey, come on back. I've got a surprise for ya.

[Michael follows Sam out of the house. Michael's face is the edge of a beautifully executed cross-wipe transition from the kitchen to the garage]

Sam Axe:
Okay, Mikey, three guesses what it is.

Michael Westen:
Is it- is it my car?

Sam Axe:
Ah. Give the man a prize. Now, the, uh, roof looks kind of like a tin can mauled by a grizzly bear, but the power train and the engine are still ticking, so I think it's salvageable.

Michael Westen:
Sam...

Jesse Porter:
[walks in] Mikey.

Michael Westen:
Jesse?

Jesse Porter:
Nothing says "Welcome home" like 4,000 pounds of mangled steel, right? I wanted to take the tarp off. Sam wanted to let you do it yourself. You know, more of a dramatic unveiling.

Michael Westen:
What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in CIFA in D.C.?

Jesse Porter:
[to Sam] I thought you told him. You didn't tell him? I thought you told him.

Sam Axe:
I didn't have time! I just saw him!

Michael Westen:
I was, but now I'm, um... now I'm not. I quit.

Michael Westen:
[incredulous] You quit?

Jesse Porter:
I quit. You know what it is? After everything I went through with you guys, helpin' all those people, I just- I can't do the government thing anymore, man. It's too much red tape. I just- it's harder than you think, going back. You'll see.

Sam Axe:
He's got a fancy job with a private security firm down here. Big money.

Jesse Porter:
Well, the money's all right. It's not bad. Actually helped me get this bad boy out of impound, so...

Michael Westen:
Uh... thanks.

Jesse Porter:
[pause] Sam said the car had some sentimental value, said it belonged to your dad.

[Mike and Sam exchange looks of "You shared that?" and "What?"]

Jesse Porter:
Um, please tell me that you *want* the car, 'cause it was actually a huge pain in my ass to get it here.

Michael Westen:
This... is great.

Jesse Porter:
Things are heating up at work, so don't expect any more favors. Enjoy this one.

Sam Axe:
Well, aren't you gonna unwrap it?

[Mike's cellphone rings]

[last lines]

[Madeline is sitting in an FBI interrogation room. Callahan enters]

Madeline Westen:
I've been sitting here for hours.

FBI Agent Callahan:
Yes, you have.

Madeline Westen:
Are you going to charge me with something?

FBI Agent Callahan:
Me? No. I'm off the case.

Madeline Westen:
What are you talking about?

FBI Agent Callahan:
I'm off the case.

Madeline Westen:
Where's my son?

FBI Agent Callahan:
Honestly, I've no idea. Know, we had him in custody for about 20 minutes, and then he was taken away.

Madeline Westen:
[gets up] He was here? You had him here?

FBI Agent Callahan:
That's right. And God only knows what hole he's in now.

[Fade to black, to a man in shackles and a black hood taken in the rain into a quadruple security-gated facility under armed guard, then fade back to the FBI]

Madeline Westen:
What's that supposed to mean? He just disappeared?

FBI Agent Callahan:
Pretty much. I mean, before, I could have gone through official channels, but once someone is removed from our custody, there is nothing I can do. And that is *your* choice.

Madeline Westen:
You had him and you let somebody *take him*!

Madeline Westen:
[slaps him, twice, and grabs him by the tie] You did! You let somebody take him!

FBI Agent Callahan:
[gets her against a wall] You hit me all you want, it won't change a thing! He is gone!

[Fade out and back to the unknown facility. The hooded man, shackled and chained, is marched down a hall and around a corner by two guards. Fade out and back to FBI as Callahan opens door]

FBI Agent Callahan:
[holding door open, gestures] You can go.

Madeline Westen:
[softly] How do I find my son?

FBI Agent Callahan:
I've no idea.

[Callahan exits. Fade back to prisoner who is stopped, uncuffed, and unshackled. Finally, his hood is removed. It's Michael Westen. The guards exit. After a moment, he opens his eyes and, moving only his eyes, takes in his surroundings. He's seated in a comfortably furnished drawing room]

[first lines]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] There's a long tradition of using doubles in espionage. They're mostly used by dictators who want to confuse would-be assassins, but they have other less-common uses, like framing someone for a crime they didn't commit.

Sam Axe:
[pauses tape] Okay, I know this video is grainy, but from that angle, it sure looks like you.

Michael Westen:
It's not me, Sam.

Fiona Glenanne:
I assume the burner cellphone he's buying made a call from the scene of Max's murder.

Madeline Westen:
Well somebody went to a lot of trouble to do this. Huh. They didn't find this guy sitting at a bus stop.

Sam Axe:
She's right, Mike. This is starting to feel personal.

Michael Westen:
It's been personal since Max bled out in my arms. Since he told me to say goodbye to his wife.

Madeline Westen:
So, what's the plan to keep my son out of prison?

Sam Axe:
We got to track down the fella on this tape. I mean, that's step one in finding Max's killer.

Fiona Glenanne:
Actually, step one is deciding what to do with the bloodhound the CIA sent to replace Max. Pearce knows we have the security footage.

Michael Westen:
I can buy us some time. I'll tell her it's taking a little longer to analyze the footage.

[cellphone buzzes]

Michael Westen:
Speak of the devil.

[Michael answers his phone]

Michael Westen:
Agent Pearce, right on time. I-... Got it.

[Michael hangs up]

Sam Axe:
What's up? She got something new about the murder?

Michael Westen:
No, it wasn't about that. She wants to meet tomorrow morning, 0700. She's got another job for me, high priority at the CIA. Wish me luck.

Gabriel Manaro:
[instantly abrasive] You Westen?

Matt Bailey:
[instantly abrasive] Do you want to tell us why the name Sam Axe is appearing on equipment-requisition forms?

Gabriel Manaro:
You really put a $40,000 bug on that man's face?

Michael Westen:
[pause, then to Agent Pearce] Which one should I answer?

[Bailey scoffs]

Agent Pearce:
Michael, this is Gabrial Manaro and Matt Bailey. Guys, this is...

Gabriel Manaro:
Oh, we know who he is! He's the genius who involved a heroin dealer in a classified CIA field operation, not to mention Sam Axe!

Michael Westen:
[walking past, pronouncing Manaro's name with contempt] Sam mentioned there was a dustup with whichever one of you is Manaro?

Gabriel Manaro:
A-a dustup? You could say that. We're not fans.

[ "Gabrial Manaro & Matt Bailey" / "Not fans of Sam Axe" ]

Michael Westen:
[pouring wine] So, when did you work with Sam?

Matt Bailey:
Five years ago, he compromised a CIA facility in Colombia. He endangered a mission *and* its personnel.

Gabriel Manaro:
Specifically us.

Matt Bailey:
Yeah.

Michael Westen:
I'm sure he had his reasons.

Agent Pearce:
Okay. Focus. Mr. Axe's position with Carmelo Dante is... precarious. His story's being checked against a captured Serb. Michael thinks we need the cavalry on call.

Matt Bailey:
[laughing] What cavalry? What's with this guy?

Gabriel Manaro:
You put an asset in the field...

Michael Westen:
[angry] I put my *friend* in the field! Now, I haven't asked for anything yet, but if I do, you better be ready!

Matt Bailey:
I wouldn't hold my breath. This mission comes first.

Gabriel Manaro:
You look pretty pleased with yourselves for a couple of guys who just cut a deal with a drug kingpin.

Matt Bailey:
What the hell were you thinking? You know, we told you...

Michael Westen:
You said the *Serbs* couldn't find out the CIA was involved. But Carmelo finding out - that wasn't "mission critical," was it?

Matt Bailey:
Do you really expect us to make good on immunity for that bastard?

Michael Westen:
Actually, I do, because if you let him go to jail, that *bastard* has no incentive to keep his mouth shut.

Gabriel Manaro:
We keep him out on the street, you really think...

Sam Axe:
Maybe Pearce can explain it to you. Ask her to talk real slow, and you might get it.

Agent Pearce:
As long as Carmelo's got a reputation to protect...

Gabriel Manaro:
Well, that's just beautiful, but have you heard the story he told the cops?

Matt Bailey:
The guy said he went to the marina with his buddies for a picnic!

Gabriel Manaro:
Then Serbs attacked, out of nowhere!

Matt Bailey:
Oh, but luckily, Carmelo had the sense to bring all these automatic weapons with him to the picnic, you know, instead of food!

Gabriel Manaro:
This is the official story we get to sell to the Miami police.

Matt Bailey:
[talking over] Yeah, this is what we get to do with this Carmelo guy.

Gabriel Manaro:
[talking over] This is the mess you are leaving us with!

Matt Bailey:
[talking over] Immunity. Fantastic.

Sam Axe:
Yeah, well, sucks being you. But I guess that's nothing new, right?

Matt Bailey:
Woah! Ho, ho! Ho!

Gabriel Manaro:
Ho! Woah! Mr. Axe! Not so fast. We need our glasses back.

Sam Axe:
Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I... lost them.

[Sam and Michael get into the Charger. Sam chuckles to Michael as he pulls the glasses from his pocket]

Michael Westen:
Sam, I just wanna say...

Sam Axe:
You don't have to, Mike.

Michael Westen:
I was *gonna* say, you owe *me* one.

Michael Westen:
[as Sam laughs] And I owe you fifty.

[recap]

Michael Westen:
Previously on "Burn Notice"...

Adam Scott:
They took Becky right out of the backyard. I know exactly who did it.

[ "Adam Scott" / "The Client" ]

Dale Lawson:
Tell him if he wants his girl, get my brother out of jail.

[ "Dale Lawson" / "Kidnapper" ]

Dale Lawson:
[of his freed "brother"] Son of a b*tch! That's not him! You think you can do this to me?

Michael Westen:
[to Adam Scott] He's a little angry.

Adam Scott:
I'm angry, too.

Fiona Glenanne:
So what now?

Michael Westen:
The situation hasn't changed. Everything leads back to John Barrett. We found Barrett, he's in Miami, we grab him, and we ask him some questions.

Fiona Glenanne:
Jesse vowed to put a bullet in you. That should put him at the top of your to-do list.

Michael Westen:
There's not a whole lot I can do about that right now.

John Barrett:
[over radio] Let's talk about my Bible.

Michael Westen:
[over radio] You want the Bible, Mr. Barrett, you'll meet me at Dinner Key, noon, Tuesday.

John Barrett:
[over radio] That can be arranged.

Michael Westen:
So that list is the key to destroying the people who burned me.

[Vaughn and his men show up and open fire]

John Barrett:
Take him!

[a shot goes through Michael's left shoulder and through the guy holding him]

Fiona Glenanne:
He shot Michael! What is Jesse doing?

Sam Axe:
No, he shot the guy *behind* him. He's savin' Mike's butt is what he's doing.

John Barrett:
Who do you work for?

Michael Westen:
I'm self-employed.

[Michael grabs the wheel, flips the SUV. survives, sees the case taken away before passing out]

Sam Axe:
Oh, excuse me, Miss?

Alicia Renson:
Alicia Renson. I'm here for my brother, Walt.

Sam Axe:
Oh, I'm sorry, I don't work here, uh, but we just saw- I mean, were you there? Are you all right?

Alicia Renson:
Yeah, yeah, but my brother might have lost his hearing.

Michael Westen:
What happened?

Alicia Renson:
I don't know. I... Walt was, uh, having lunch with his- with his boss and... I-I went to get his... signature on this field-trip form. I watch...

Alicia Renson:
[sniffles] the kids since Gina left. And, um... and, uh, W-Walt was coming out. And I looked over and-and I saw this-this young couple. And then it went off.

Sam Axe:
And they weren't there anymore.

Alicia Renson:
[sniffs] I don't think this was an accident. I told Walt not to work for a slimebag like Dale. It was a matter of time before something like this.

Michael Westen:
[Sam and Mike exchange looks] "Dale"?

Alicia Renson:
Dale Lawson. This guy my brother works for. He's dead. Walt's no angel, but he didn't deserve this. Cops better find out who did this. Someone's gotta bring them to justice.

Michael Westen:
Someone will.

Nurse:
Excuse me? Your brother's asking for you.

[Alicia goes with the Nurse to her brother. "Alicia" / "The client" ]

Sam Axe:
Adam Scott. You're thinkin' it too, right?

Michael Westen:
Dale kidnapped his daughter. Would be one hell of a coincidence.

Sam Axe:
You told him to get out of town. He promised that he would drop it.

Michael Westen:
Yeah, he's a lawyer, I guess I should have got it in writing.

Sam Axe:
Wait, didn't Scott say that he wanted Lawson's whole crew to pay? This could just be the beginning, Mike, like a declaration of war- okay, what are you doin'? The doctor said two weeks.

Michael Westen:
[pulling out his IV] I'm fine! Time to get back to work.

Adam Scott:
Mr. Westen.

[ "Scott" / "Vengeful former client" ]

Adam Scott:
Miss... Glenanne. I-I wasn't expecting... What happened to you?

Michael Westen:
[indicating his immobilized arm] Oh, this? Oh, this is nothing. It's not like I almost got blown up on South Beach.

Adam Scott:
Are you referring to that explosion?

Michael Westen:
Three days after you told me Dale Lawson is a dead men, Dale Lawson *is* a dead man.

Adam Scott:
Well, I was at a full bar at the Delano with... 200 people when that happened?

Michael Westen:
23 hours a day you're holed up *here*, and just then you happened to be grabbing a beer? Is that a joke?

Adam Scott:
Well, it's called an alibi?

Fiona Glenanne:
Innocent people are dead because you had to have your revenge. Don't smile at us.

Adam Scott:
The man kidnapped my little girl. You know, I wish - I wish I *had* killed him. I wish I had been there to watch him burn. But I didn't do it.

Fiona Glenanne:
Of course not. A man with your clientele, I'm sure you could shake a bomber out of your sleeve.

Adam Scott:
Well, whoever it was, I'm hoping they're just getting started. I mean, Lawson's got a big crew.

Fiona Glenanne:
He doesn't seem to be getting it. If another innocent pers-!

Adam Scott:
If you're all out of baseless accusations, I'd like to kindly ask you to get the hell out of my house.

[a security guard grabs Michael by his injured arm]

Michael Westen:
Aah!

Fiona Glenanne:
[pulls a gun on guard] Hands to yourself. We're leaving.

[the guard backs off]

Michael Westen:
Go be with your daughter. Enjoy the time. Prison visits are hard on kids.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Selling yourself to an adversary is a bit like getting drafted on a sports team: you may look good on paper, but eventually, they'll want to see you on the field.

Michael Westen:
[stops the van, gets out, and walks back to Gilroy's car] Why the hell are you following me?

Mason Gilroy:
Just curious about where that van of yours is headed. I told you, I have to get to know you.

Michael Westen:
[pushing Gilroy back against his car] You can do that without compromising my operations!

Mason Gilroy:
I had to see you in action. And, I have to say, you've lived up to your reputation. Such panache! Love the suit; who are you wearing?

Michael Westen:
[grabbing by the lapels] You know, you're awfully confident I won't shoot you right here. Don't be.

Mason Gilroy:
Maybe I'm just not that afraid of rubber bullets. You were awful gentle with those chaps at the warehouse.

Michael Westen:
[looks around, lets go] I was as gentle as I had to be. I can't have a homicide detective poking around.

Mason Gilroy:
Hmm. Fair enough.

Michael Westen:
Is that why you were following me? Complement me on my suit? And ask me stupid questions?

Mason Gilroy:
I came to see if you're the sort of person I'd like to work with, and it appears that you are.

Michael Westen:
I'm glad you liked what you saw.

Mason Gilroy:
I have a little project, may interest you. I'll be in touch.

[Michael walks back to the van]

Mason Gilroy:
Oh, by the way, who is the van for?

Michael Westen:
[without stopping or looking back, gets in] I don't kiss and tell.

Mason Gilroy:
Good to know.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] To hit a facility directly, you just need a gun and the willingness to use it. Less-bloody approaches require fewer bullets but more planning... and more recruiting.

Madeline Westen:
You want me to do *what?*!

Sam Axe:
All you gotta do is tell them that your car broke down. Ask to use the john, toss the doodad in the trash, and split. Easy peasy, no big deal.

Madeline Westen:
No big deal? You're asking me to plant a bomb, Sam!

Fiona Glenanne:
It's a smoke bomb, timed to go off after everybody leaves. Nobody gets hurt... you know, except us if you say no.

Madeline Westen:
Who's this guy who wants you to rob a-a-a weapons company?

Madeline Westen:
Don't bother. Fi hasn't been too forthcoming about this Armand guy.

Madeline Westen:
You want me to get anywhere near this, you better start talking, honey.

Fiona Glenanne:
[sighs] Armand got me out of Ireland when nobody else could: passport, visa, cash. But his help wasn't free.

Madeline Westen:
What does that mean: "wasn't free"?

Fiona Glenanne:
Well, my price for my ticket to the U.S. was lookout duty on a job in Belfast. Turns out that job was a kidnapping.

Madeline Westen:
Okay. Who was kidnapped? Jesus.

Fiona Glenanne:
Not an angel... but nobody who'd done any harm to me. I-I didn't know until after.

Fiona Glenanne:
[inhales deeply] Armand kept his word. He always does.

Sam Axe:
Look, the point is, if we're gonna find out who framed Mike for murder, we got to heist that place, Maddy.

Fiona Glenanne:
And we'd like to do it without killing anyone, so...

Madeline Westen:
So, fine. I'll do it.

[Madeline spots the groundskeeper approaching. Fiona misreads her face]

Fiona Glenanne:
Oh, don't worry, it's safe now. Totally harmless.

Madeline Westen:
No, no, no, it's not that. Um, what do you people say, "I think we have company"?

Fiona Glenanne:
Oh, dammit. Look, I need a sec to get this out and cover it up. Could you, uh...?

[Madeline takes off her sunglasses, reads the name "Quinton Gordon" from the gravestone, and goes to intercept the groundskeeper]

Groundskeeper:
I thought I saw somebody over here.

Madeline Westen:
[angry] Are you in charge of this place?

Groundskeeper:
I'm the caretaker. You tell me what that truck is doing here?

Madeline Westen:
What does it look like? I had to hire a landscaper.

Groundskeeper:
Ma'am, you can't do that. It's not authorized.

Madeline Westen:
Someone had to take care of Quinn's grave. You certainly haven't.

[the groundskeeper tries to look behind Madeline, but she turns him around to face the other way]

Madeline Westen:
And, what, would you look at me when I'm talking to you? People have no respect. I'm grieving here. I'm dealing with the pain of a very serious loss and-and-and you-you're just letting his grave go to hell! Do you have any idea how painful that is?

Groundskeeper:
Ma'am, are you confused? This is an historic cemetary. Everyone here's been dead for over a century.

[True. Quinton Gordon died in 1907]

Madeline Westen:
Well, it's not about how long it's been, it's about how much you love somebody! My great, great... *great* uncle Quinton. This is so important to our family!

Groundskeeper:
I'm sorry. We'll try to do better?

Madeline Westen:
Thank you.

Fiona Glenanne:
Uh, Mrs. Becker? I'm done. Are you ready?

Madeline Westen:
Oh, right! Bye.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Recruiting a source is a painful process. Threatening to ruin someone's life can put a lot of strain on a relationship and make it tough to work together.

Sam Axe:
Hello, Marv. Chuck Finley. Nice to meet you.

Marv:
Wish I could say the same. What's this about?

Sam Axe:
Well, the good news is this has nothing to do with your marital indiscretion with Sally Baker.

Marv:
And the bad news?

[Sam points behind Marv]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] But sometimes a bad relationship is the best you can do.

Marv:
[turns around] Jesse, what the hell are you doin' to me? I can't be here. I can't be talking to you. You know that.

Jesse Porter:
I know. If there was any other way...

Marv:
What, what, other than dragging my private life into this?

Jesse Porter:
I'm sorry, I really need your help.

Marv:
Help? Are you kidding? This is the second time you've tricked me into meeting you.

Jesse Porter:
You want to know what happened the first time? The help you gave me led directly to the takedown of Drake Technologies.

Marv:
The- You're involved with that?

Jesse Porter:
Yes.

Marv:
I mean- I mean, the congressional hearings are still going on.

Jesse Porter:
I know. I know, and trust me, you do not want to know the details, but you helped stop some very bad people, Marv. So I'm asking you to do it again.

Marv:
[pauses] All right, what do you need?

Jesse Porter:
All right, someone's getting ready to auction off something really nasty. I got e-mails and some of the people attending. I just need to know the who, the when, and the where.

Marv:
[accepts file] All right, I'll look into it.

[Marv walks off past Sam]

Jesse Porter:
[groans] The guy's a good friend. I feel like a son of a b*tch playing him like that.

Sam Axe:
Yup. I know how you feel. But you know what always cheers me up? Stealing a chemical weapon from a bunch of crazy South Americans.

[last lines]

Jesse Porter:
[cellphone rings] Yeah, Fi?

Fiona Glenanne:
Hey, Jesse. Want to grab lunch at the Carlito?

Jesse Porter:
Um...

Fiona Glenanne:
[sing-song] I'm buying.

Jesse Porter:
Yeah, what the hell. I could go for some fish tacos.

[Jesse arrives, spots Fi, Michael, and Madeline waiting for him like an intervention]

Jesse Porter:
Oh, funny running into you people here.

Fiona Glenanne:
It wasn't *my* idea. Madeline wanted me to get you two together. And since you wouldn't sit down with Michael and Michael wouldn't sit down with you... oh, whatever. You know how she is.

[Fiona leaves]

Jesse Porter:
Look, Maddy, this is really none of your...

Madeline Westen:
Shut it! And sit down.

[Michael looks shocked. Jesse sits]

Madeline Westen:
I'm so tired of this crap. I know enough about the lives that you people lead to know this: if you two don't start trusting each other again, somebody's gonna end up dead. Jesse... Michael ruined your life, got you fired. He was trying to do a good thing. So get over it. Michael... Jesse shot you in the chest. He was trying to save your life. Deal with it. I'm not talking about closure. I'm talking about good, old-fashioned gutting it out. You know what families do when people lie and betray each other? They suck it up, and they move on. So if you two are good, shake on it. If you're not, too bad: shake anyway!

[Michael, a bit fearful of his mother, puts out his hand to Jesse. Jesse shakes it]

Madeline Westen:
I'll leave you two alone to talk.

[Madeline gets up and leaves]

Michael Westen:
[sighs]

Jesse Porter:
[smiles] Wow. Your mom's good.

Michael Westen:
[looks around] How'd your meeting with Marv go?

Jesse Porter:
He got us the money. Call up Barry. Have him put it in the escrow account.

Michael Westen:
[leans forward, groans] You want to, uh, stay for a bite, start planning? We have an auction to crash, Jesse.

[Jesse smiles]

[after Fiona's been kidnapped and Michael realizes Strickler's behind it, Michael walks into Strickler's home]

Michael Westen:
[Strickler's on the phone, but Michael yells anyway] Where's Fiona?

[Strickler holds up his hand like he'll be with Michael in a minute, so Michael pushes over Strickler's glass display cases]

Michael Westen:
[screams] YOU TELL ME WHERE FIONA IS NOW!

Tom Strickler:
[to whomever he's on the phone with] I'll call you back.

Tom Strickler:
[ends call, then, to Michael] Now how would I know that?

Michael Westen:
Thomas O'Neill stopped one of his men from executing me! It sounded like he made a deal with someone to keep me alive: I thought of you!

Tom Strickler:
Bravo. Put that all together yourself, did 'ya? No point in denying it; you would've figured it out eventually.

Michael Westen:
You sent Fiona to her death.

Tom Strickler:
I sent her home, like she wanted. What happens to her after she gets there? Well... she's a big girl.

Michael Westen:
Strickler, you have no i...

Tom Strickler:
Hey! I did this the cleanest way possible! Sure, the brother got clipped, but you were spared. I'm your goddamn white knight, Michael.

Michael Westen:
[going towards Strickler] You tell me where...

Tom Strickler:
[draws his gun and points it at Michael] Hey! Hey! Get back! Get the hell back, right now!

Tom Strickler:
[as Michael backs up] I'm getting a little sick of your ingratitude. I'm the one trying to help you out! You wanted back in? Well guess what: a gun-dealing, bomb-making girlfriend wasn't helping your case. She had to go! And it was clear you were too attached to do what needed to be done so, like a good partner, I did it for you.

[Strickler pulls the keys from a door]

Michael Westen:
What the hell are you doing?

Tom Strickler:
[hits a button on his phone] You're staying put for the next hour. By then, the cargo company I hired will have Miss Glenanne and her fan club in international waters, heroic rescue attempts will be impossible, and you can *move on* knowing there wasn't a damn thing you could do. *I'll* be the bad guy. You're welcome.

Michael Westen:
Tell me where she is.

[Strickler shakes his head no]

Michael Westen:
Get outta my way.

Tom Strickler:
[yelling] You don't get to have the girl *and* the job! She doesn't fit into your future - *our* future - so why don't you do yourself a favor and just forget the past!

[a beat passes]

Michael Westen:
Fiona is not my past.

[Michael pulls out his gun and kills Strickler with two quick shots, first below his ribs, second to his heart]

[club scene]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Grabbing someone who travels with protection is about finding the moments when they're least protected.

[Tony Caro gets up, signals to his guards, and walks through the club]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Fortunately, even the most paranoid gangster insists on doing some things alone.

[Tony signals to his men to wait and guard while he goes into the men's room]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] Executing a successful close-quarters assault is all about setting the stage. You'll want to dull any reflective surfaces...

[Washing his hands first, Tony notices the mirrors are fogged]

Michael Westen:
[narrative]... corral your target into a corner...

[all but one stall have "OUT OF ORDER" signage]

Michael Westen:
[narrative]... and hit him when he's most vulnerable.

[Tony takes a disposable seat cover and puts it on the stool. Sam grabs him from behind]

Sam Axe:
Easy. Easy, now. Here.

[Sam injects something into Tony's neck]

Tony Caro:
[muffled by Sam's hand] Mm!

Sam Axe:
Night, night.

Michael Westen:
[narrative] And it never hurts to have a pre-arranged exit strategy.

[Jesse comes out of the handicapped stall as Sam drags Tony out of theirs]

Jesse Porter:
You really think you can scare this dude into pullin' somethin' that'll get him busted, huh?

Sam Axe:
Oh, I *know* I can.

Jesse Porter:
Really? 'Cause... you don't look that scary.

Sam Axe:
You haven't seen Chuck Finley in action.

[carrying Tony between them back through the club]

Sam Axe:
Sorry. Coming through. Somebody can't handle his liquor.

[Tony's plan has Sam and Jesse stealing a truck full of processors alone while he makes the sale. Their plan requires Tony get caught in the act. Sam presses him to do it with them and he's balking]

Tony Caro:
I'm not doin' it.

Jesse Porter:
Look, Tony, you're on a team with Chuck, he takes care of you.

Tony Caro:
I'm not gonna do it.

Jesse Porter:
He takes care...

Jesse Porter:
[to Sam] Tell him about the time you, uh, saved your Navy SEAL buddy, in El Salvador.

[Sam gives Jesse a hard look]

Jesse Porter:
Come on, tell him, man.

Sam Axe:
[Sam pauses, not liking having to share this, and clears throat] It was the '80s, uh, I led a fact-finding team into the country. There were five of us, including my buddy, Pete. 'Course, the, uh, death squads were none too happy to see us, so we came under fire, and Pete took one in the spine. He wanted me to dump him, leave him behind. I sent the team ahead, and Pete and I holed up in some church for a couple days, living off of communion wafers. Finally, a couple Blackhawks airlifted us out of there. The point is, no man left behind. That's the promise I make, the promise I keep.

Tony Caro:
[moved, pats Sam on the shoulder] That's a hell of a story, Chuck.

Sam Axe:
[mouths silently] Yeah.

Jesse Porter:
So, what do you say? You in?

Tony Caro:
[pauses, still moved] Yeah, I'm in. Let's do this.

[cut to Tony put in a cab and being driven off]

Sam Axe:
What the hell was that?

Jesse Porter:
The story? Michael mentioned it.

Sam Axe:
No, it's not just a story. This is *me*! It's my *real life*! I don't pimp my past to bad guys, you understand?

Jesse Porter:
[as Sam walks off angry] It worked, didn't it?

[Blur-wipe to the house, Jesse looks over some paperwork]

Jesse Porter:
Bingo. Bingo.

Jesse Porter:
[dials Michael with cellphone] Hey, Michael, it's Jesse. I need to talk to you, man.

Michael Westen:
Yeah, I heard what happened with Sam. Word to the wise: stay out of his war stories from now on.

Jesse Porter:
Come on, man, the guy's an ex-Navy SEAL. He's probably told that story a million times.

Michael Westen:
That's not the point, Jesse.

Jesse Porter:
You know, okay. Point taken. Point taken. That's not why I called. Listen, I think I found Cobra's warehouse at the airport.

Sam Axe:
All right, we're on the clock here. Three minutes from the time we breach the fence to the time we drive out. Anything goes wrong, we scatter and regroup.

Tony Caro:
[thumb up] Roger that.

Sam Axe:
[into radio] Road team set?

Michael Westen:
[into headset] Set.

Sam Axe:
[into radio] Perimeter team, set?

Michael Westen:
[gruffly into headset] Set.

Sam Axe:
[into radio] Sniper team, set?

Michael Westen:
[into headset, southern accent] Set. I got eyes on secruity. South side of the building.

Sam Axe:
[over radio] Take the shot; give them a flat tire as they come around the corner.

Michael Westen:
[into headset] Roger that.

[Michael shoots out the left front tire]

Michael Westen:
[over radio] Security car disabled.

Sam Axe:
[into radio] Copy that.

Sam Axe:
Okay, we're good to go.

Michael Westen:
[narrative as Fi breaches the fence] If you're cutting through a high-powered electric fence, you need more than rubber gloves and a pair of thick-soled shoes. Covering a fence with spray-on insulation and using a set of fiberglass-handled bolt cutters will keep you from lighting up like a Christmas tree.

[they go through the fence, around a truck]

Michael Westen:
[into headset] Hold on, there. All right, you're clear.

[they proceed unseen by the security car detail]

Michael Westen:
[narrative] A shaped charge large enough to go through a wall is also large enough to let everyone for several miles know what you're doing. A smaller charge can be just as useful and a lot less noisy. A hydraulic spreader puts out enough pressure to rip a door off a humvee. Placed correctly, it will make short work of reinforced concrete.

Michael Westen:
Mom, if you have a plan for handling violent heroin dealers, I am all ears.

Madeline Westen:
Do you remember when you and Nate were in middle school together and there was that, that... bully, Todd, who was always picking on Nate?

Michael Westen:
[pause] I really don't have time for this right now.

Madeline Westen:
[talking over] Well, you went over to Todd's house, and you told him, if he messed with your little brother, then he was messing with you. And it worked. Todd left Nate alone for the rest of the year.

Michael Westen:
[nods] Inspiring story. Listen, Mom, what does that...

Madeline Westen:
[talking over again] Yeah, until the next year, when you went off to high school, and then Nate was fair game. Todd and a bunch of those punks made his life miserable.

Michael Westen:
I don't remember that.

Madeline Westen:
That's because he never told you, Michael. Anyway, that's not what solved the problem.

[Madeline sits down on the steps]

Michael Westen:
Okay.

Madeline Westen:
[takes a puff off her cigarette] One day, Nate had had enough, and he whacked Todd with a two-by-four. Hm. Of course, he was suspended from school for a week, but after that, everybody left him alone, and do you know why? Because he stood up for *himself*.

Michael Westen:
Mom, David isn't up against middle-school bullies. These people will kill him.

Madeline Westen:
[nods, gets up] I don't think that you're gonna let that happen.

[Madeline goes inside. Michael thinks for a moment, then follows her in. Fiona blocks the door]

Fiona Glenanne:
Either you're with us or you're not, but we're hitting Cutler back.

Michael Westen:
No, *we* are not. David's going to be the one that stands up to Cutler. We're just going to give him a little help.

Kendra:
Do you have butterflies? I have butterflies.

Michael Westen:
I'd rather have my fifty thousand.

Kendra:
Soon enough. Care to show me what's in your briefcase? Girl's gotta be safe.

[Michael steps forward, noting he's stepping out of Sam's line of sight]

Sam Axe:
[with scoped weapon] Damn it, Mikey! You're killing me here!

[Michael pops the latches on the briefcase, opens it slowly, and takes out the tape for Kendra to see. He puts it back in and closes the case]

Michael Westen:
I showed you mine.

[Michael closes the case clasps]

Kendra:
[grabs a red bag from her car too quickly] The money's here.

[Michael shifts position]

Kendra:
[laughs] What, do I make you nervous?

[Michael c*cks his head]

Kendra:
Fifty thousand, unmarked, unsequenced.

[Kendra flings the bag with a high arc to Michael, then pulls a blade from behind her back and lunges at him, cutting his left shoulder]

Michael Westen:
[narrative during fight] It's never a nice surprise when someone pulls out a concealed blade, but there's an upside to getting a look at their weapon. If they're using a Japanese tanto knife, they'd rather stab you than slice you, and you can use that to your advantage.

Michael Westen:
[deflecting stabs with the briefcase] Why does it feel like we're breaking up?

Kendra:
Sorry, I'm a heartbreaker.

[Kendra lunges again, but Michael blocks the knife with the briefcase. Despite the half-inch of metal siding reinforcement in the lining he put in, the knife blade goes through to the hilt, but it's strong enough for Michael to twist the case, disarming Kendra. He hits her in the face with the case twice, knocking her out]

Brennen:
One hundred twenty-two thousand, six hundred and fifty-four dollars and thirty-seven cents.

[Michael and Sam share a look]

Brennen:
That's how much I've spent in the last year keeping tabs on my favorite burned spy.

[ "Brennen" / "Very invested in Michael" ]

Michael Westen:
[with sarcastic annoyance] Thanks?

Brennen:
No, actually, I should be thanking *you*, because you led me to good old Marv, and without him, I never would have been able to pry the list out of your hands.

[Sam turns his head, disgusted]

Brennen:
This, uh, little network of people that burned you is very promising. Talk about high-value targets.

Sam Axe:
Okay, so you're here to, what, take a victory lap?

Brennen:
Little bit, but mostly it's a business trip. I'm here to get spy-guy to slit a few dozen throats. Oh, n-now, don't give me that look. You're going to love this; trust me.

Michael Westen:
You want me to kill the people on the list?

Brennen:
Ding-ding, Michael Westen! You get revenge; I get money; everybody goes home a winner.

Michael Westen:
And if I say no?

Brennen:
You won't, because if you refuse, a very special audio file gets sent to, uh - what is he, your boss? your keeper? - anyway, the man you know as Vaughn.

Sam Axe:
Marv gave you Mike's debrief?

Brennen:
You mean my Michael Westen Summer-Jam Mix Tape? Indeed. Fun stuff. And if, uh, Vaughn ever gets a listen to you outing his little secret society, he's gonna kill, well, you and you and Fiona, this new guy, Jesse, possibly even Mama Westen, Nate. How is Nate? I sent him a Christmas card and never heard back.

Michael Westen:
[as a red laser dot appears on Larry's head and moves down to his chest] Oh, you got something on your... I mean, it's - now it's... you - you got something there.

Larry Sizemore:
[Larry's cellphone rings. He answers] Who is this?

Sam Axe:
[with sniper rifle] Hello, larry. It's your favorite wet rag, Sam Axe, calling.

Larry Sizemore:
[referencing laser] Ah, Sam. Sam. Is this you, too?

Sam Axe:
It is. Now put me on speakerphone, jerk.

Larry Sizemore:
I'm sorry. I don't take orders from pathetic, old...

[Sam fires, taking out a window, the bullet flying between Larry and Michael]

Sam Axe:
The next one makes you dead... and me smile. And I want to smile, Larry. I really, *really* want to smile.

[Larry switches to speakerphone]

Sam Axe:
Okay, so here's what's gonna happen. Mike's gonna walk out of that room right now, and you're gonna sit there like a good little boy and wait for the cops. Otherwise you're gonna join Brennen in the afterlife. Believe that, Larry.

Michael Westen:
I wish I could say it's been fun, Larry.

Larry Sizemore:
No. You move, I shoot you right in the head.

Michael Westen:
Come on, Larry. You and I both know you're not gonna shoot me.

Larry Sizemore:
Try me. You won't reach the door.

Michael Westen:
Yes, I will. I'm gonna walk right out that door.

[starts walking out]

Larry Sizemore:
I'll do it, Michael. I'll do it. And you know why? I can't stand watching you *waste* who you are... what you have inside... what *we* could have *been*!

Michael Westen:
[stops, looks back] You're not gonna do it, Larry. Because if you shoot me, Sam will kill you where you stand. And while I'd give my life for something I believe in, there's not a thing in this world that you'd die for. And you want to know the difference between you and me? I really do know you; you only *think* you know me.

Larry Sizemore:
[c*cks gun]

[Michael walks out as sirens wail]

Michael Westen:
[voiceover] The vehicle you want when hunting someone down depends on where you are in the chase. If you're behind your target, you need a set of wheels that's fast enough to catch up. If you're ahead and waiting for your target to come to you, you may want to think bigger.

Sam Axe:
Uh, Mike, the clock's ticking. I mean, I thought the idea was to get ahead of Anson so we can spot him from the road.

Michael Westen:
[picking up a rock] There are no exits for ten miles along that highway. It'll be a lot easier if the traffic's stopped.

[Michael uses the rock to break the window of a big rig]

Sam Axe:
Oh, great!

Michael Westen:
[voiceover] Anti-theft devices, like transponder keys and transmission locks, make newer trucks nearly impossible to steal. Hot-wiring an older truck, on the other hand, is still just a matter of sorting the terminals on the starter solenoid. And, of course, dealing with whoever happens to own the truck.

Trucker:
[spotting Michael and Sam] Hey! What the hell are you doing?

Sam Axe:
[trying to laugh it off] Hey, I know this doesn't look good.

Trucker:
No! This guy's stealing my truck!

Sam Axe:
Uh, yeah, he is, but see, the thing is it's kind of a long story, and trust me, pal, you don't want to mess with that guy right now.

Trucker:
Out of my way!

Sam Axe:
Can't do that.

[the trucker decks Sam; Michael fires a warning shot into the adjacent truck]

Michael Westen:
Fight's over. Walk away now.

Sam Axe:
[stuffing some bills into the trucker's shirt pocket] Here. Buy yourself another hot dog. And, uh, you might want to call your insurance company. I think you're gonna need a new truck.

Agent Pearce:
*You* must be Michael Westen. I'm Agent Pearce. Thanks for coming.

Michael Westen:
No place I'd rather be. Max was...

Agent Pearce:
A friend? I know. I'd, uh, offer my condolences, but I'm much better at catching bad guys than shedding tears. We'll find whoever did this.

[ "Pearce" / "CIA bloodhound" ]

Michael Westen:
What can I do?

Agent Pearce:
Let me walk you through the scene. You be the killer. We found two bullets out in the hallway, so if you're the killer, you fire on Max out there, miss, then chase him in here. Blood spatter says Max was... where I'm standing. You bust in, put two shots in his back. He bleeds out here. Now Max is dead. What do you do?

Michael Westen:
Run to the exit.

Agent Pearce:
I think you head for the key log. [key log room] So, you rip the hard drive out of the wall. Now there's no record of your entry. But how do you get out clean?

Michael Westen:
Elevator.

Agent Pearce:
No trace. Try again.

Michael Westen:
[on roof] I hope you're not asking me to jump.

Agent Pearce:
Oh, you're the killer in this little exercise. Is that how you escaped?

Michael Westen:
Not unless I could fly.

Agent Pearce:
[chuckles] We found rope fibers, and I got friction marks right here. The killer rappelled down. Probably had help. How are your climbing skills?

Michael Westen:
Not bad. Why? Am I a suspect?

Agent Pearce:
To be honest, when I heard a burned spy was mixed up with Max, my first instinct was to fit you for a head bag.

Michael Westen:
I appreciate your restraint.

Agent Pearce:
Well, you *did* show up today. And as your new Agency contact, a head bag wouldn't have started us off on the right foot.

Michael Westen:
You're Max's replacement?

Agent Pearce:
We worked on some operations together. I have some investigations experience. I asked for this assignment.

Michael Westen:
Max was one of the good guys. I want to find out who did this just as much as you do.

Agent Pearce:
I'd love to have you on the team. You should know this about me, though: I've got a pit bull at home, and I learned how to run an investigation from her. She sinks her teeth in, [teeth clenched] she doesn't let go. [laughs] Ever.

Michael Westen:
[smiles] She sounds like a nice dog.

Agent Pearce:
She can be. But she is a very, very determined b*tch when she wants something. I need to know I can count on you.

Michael Westen:
I'm your man.

Brad Ramsey:
This seems too good to be true. Then your guys start asking details about my business. I mean, how do I know you're not cops?

Sam Axe, Fiona Glenanne, Jesse Porter:
[amused laughter]

Michael Westen:
Fair question. Deserves an honest answer.

[Michael hands his sunglasses to Fi, his drink to Sam and takes the bottle, and takes a pocket handkerchief from Ethan]

Michael Westen:
Cops write tickets.

[Michael pours the alcohol on the handkerchief]

Michael Westen:
Cops eat doughnuts.

[Michael stuffs one end of the handkerchief into the neck of the bottle]

Michael Westen:
They don't do this.

[Michael lights the end of the handkerchief and tosses the Molotov cocktail into a car. The glass smashes and the car's interior is engulfed in flames]

Brad Ramsey:
Son of a b*tch.

[Brad Ramsey throws a punch at Michael, but Michael catches his arm, pulls it behind Ramsey's back, and hooks the other one as well, restraining him]

Michael Westen:
Careful. I learned jujitsu on the sands of Okinawa.

Brad Ramsey:
That's - that's my car!

Michael Westen:
No, that's not your car.

Michael Westen:
[turns him around to a sporty sliver Porsche Carrera 4 convertible] *That's* your car. I call it the thinking car. Take your time. Have a ball.

[Michael shoves Ramsey towards the car. He walks over, opens the door, starts the engine and drives off]

Fiona Glenanne:
"Thinking car"?

Michael Westen:
Felt right at the time.

Jesse Porter:
It fel- I don't give a damn how it felt; I better see my car again, Mike.

Sam Axe:
[claps Jesse's shoulder] I know the feeling, buddy.

[last lines]

Agent Pearce:
[sighs] Langley's all over my ass, Michael, and my leads are evaporating left and right. Max's financial records, nothing. Traffic cams, nothing. You better have brought me something to chew on.

Agent Pearce:
[accepts coffee] Thank you.

Michael Westen:
Could be something. Found a burner cell in the records you gave me. Phone was purchased at a bodega on 6th.

Agent Pearce:
They have a security camera?

[Michael gives a look while pouring coffee]

Agent Pearce:
You already got the footage. I don't want to know how. I just want answers.

Michael Westen:
[sits] Already sifting through the tapes. I'll have something to report soon.

Agent Pearce:
You'll have a report for me tomorrow.

Michael Westen:
Isn't that what I just said?

[Michael gets up and starts to leave]

Agent Pearce:
Uh, Michael?

[he stops]

Agent Pearce:
I'm counting on you here. So is Max's family.

[Michael leaves. Later, at Madeline's home... ]

Michael Westen:
[comes in] Mom? I got your call. Did you find something on the tape?

Madeline Westen:
Michael, you need to tell me what this is all about right now.

Michael Westen:
I already told you. My friend...

Madeline Westen:
You told me that the security tape would lead to the man who killed your friend. And I know you've spared me some details. I need them now.

Michael Westen:
The person who killed my friend went to a lot of trouble to make it look like *I* did it. I'm hoping the real killer is on that tape.

Madeline Westen:
You need to see this.

[They go to the monitor and play the tape already cued at 05:
34:56. On the tape is someone with the size, build, dress, and mannerisms like Michael buying a phone, but no good image of his face]

Madeline Westen:
He has your posture, your- your walk. He's got you down, Michael. Good luck convincing anybody else it isn't you.


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