[birds chirping]
[door clicks]
[doorbell chimes]
[can pops]
[phone buzzing]
[Charlie Cale] Yeah?
[Beatrix Hasp] [over phone] Charlie Cale.
Do you know who this is?
I mean, Beatrix Hasp, right?
[Beatrix] Yeah.
Yeah, that's what I assumed.
[Beatrix] Well, listen, Charlie,
I'm here with the Five Families.
[Charlie] [over phone] You're there with all five of them?
[Beatrix] Yeah, I got you on speaker.
And what we are dealing with now is a war.
It's expensive and a pain in the ass,
and it's no good.
It's bad.
It's ruinous, is the word.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I remember, okay?
I was on the phone.
Oh, am I boring you?
Look, man, I just got out of a burning house.
It was kind of a whole fucking thing,
so I'm sorry if I'm not really in the mood
for a whole long meandering conversation.
Okay then, I need your help
and if you don't do it, I'll kill you.
Well, fine.
Good. Thank you.
My organization is crumbled
and I'm on the lam with the rubble,
all thanks to you.
So, you know your goons tried
to kill me, like, six times, right?
Oh, Jesus. You millennials bitch, bitch, bitch.
So, the Southwest Syndicate is closing in,
the FBI is up my pantyhose.
It is desperate hours, I'm not gonna lie.
But I ain't going down.
That's where you come in.
Oh, good.
So, my remaining capos are waiting
at a safe house nearby.
I've arranged for a plane
that can get us out of the country.
Only problem is, I have it on decent authority
that there's a rat in my crew, or possibly a mole.
Hey, would you remind me, what exactly is the difference?
The point is, I can't make my getaway
unless I know I'm not gettin' set up.
So, you're gonna use
your freaky little lie detector trick
to tell me which one of my guys is the snitch.
Oh, great.
Alright, take this next exit
and pull into the first gas station.
Gotta use the can, get some snacks.
Any chance I could, like, uh,
clean up a little, change some clothes?
I fucking stink.
Yeah. Who gives a shit? Do what you want.
* Burgers and fries *
* Cherry pies *
* It was simple and good back then *
[Charlie] Christ, come on.
* Walking in the sand, hand in hand *
Shit.
[clears throat]
[car door opens]
[Beatrix] Here you go.
Thanks.
Oh, uh...
Little Miss Klepto, huh?
You can make anything disappear in loose sleeves.
Too easy.
[Charlie] Yeah. Yeah.
You know, uh, in my pick-pocketing youth,
I was partial to the pant leg.
[groans]
[Beatrix] Damnit!
Shrimp-flavored Vienna sausage.
Jesus.
[phone beeps]
[Beatrix] Alright, let's go.
Let's make a left out of here.
A left? We just, we just came from left.
Left.
[clears throat] Right, right.
-Left, left. -[engine starts]
[* tense music playing]
I told my crew you're a Cobbler.
Ah, yeah. Well, it makes sense.
I mean, I guess you can't really skip town
if you've got holes in your shoes.
No, a Scratcher, a Forger,
someone who makes fake documents.
That way, it won't seem strange when you ask nosy questions.
Uh, hey.
-What? -Eh, nothing.
Alright, alright.
Uh, so, well, your shoelace is untied,
and I guess I can't figure out which way to play it.
Like, don't tell you and then wait for you to trip
and then grab your gun.
Or I do tell you so you look
and-and-and then I grab your gun.
Well, I guess it doesn't matter either way,
'cause you probably wouldn't believe me.
Hmm. Life's full of moments.
And you're right, I don't believe you.
-Get going. -Okay.
Damnit.
Alright, so, uh, what happens when we catch
this rat in question?
Or mole. It could be mole.
Alright, well, uh, when I identify
this, uh, critter in question,
then what are you gonna do?
I'm gonna slowly skin 'em alive
and watch them eat their own flesh in front of me.
Uh... uh...
I-I can't be a part of facilitating that.
Turning rat is the lowest, most despicable thing
a person can do.
And if that doesn't ease your conscience,
try to remember, it's them or you.
Get in. Come on.
[* tense music playing]
[sings] * Hello, little girl *
* What your rush *
* You're missing all the flowers *
[Beatrix laughing]
* The sun won't set for hours *
* Take your time *
[Charlie] Hi, uh...
-I'm the Cobbler. -Oh, thank God.
Because my espadrilles are falling to pieces.
[Beatrix] No, darling. She's...
This is my husband, Jeffrey.
-He's not part of my crew. -Yeah, I'm sorry.
I don't know much about the-the scrap metal business.
I'm kidding. I'm kidding. I know it's the Mafia.
Can I tempt either one of you with a panino?
These things are amazingly versatile.
I used the steamer setting to parboil artichokes.
The lobsters of vegetables.
That's what I always say!
[Beatrix] Darling, our guest needs to focus.
Charlie, come here.
-[iron sizzling] -[* tense music playing]
The men in this room are cold-blooded killers.
You have to play this perfectly.
Subtle. Capisce?
Uh... yeah.
Go on.
[* tense music continues]
[clears throat]
[* tense music continues]
So, any of you guys working for the Feds?
[group] No.
Great. Got what I needed.
Hey-Hey, uh, check it out.
Guess what? I pronounce you, uh, rat-free,
unless, of course, Jeffrey here is working for the Feds.
Nope, sorry.
Okay. Also true. Alright.
So, nothing to do here.
How the hell can you be so good?
Yo, you thought we was rats?
Oh, for Christ...
Real slick, kid.
Listen, use your brains.
What happens if we get on that plane
and we got a sniveling little Ratatouille on board, huh?
Charlie says you're all clean,
so we'll risk it.
Get packed. We leave in 10.
Oh, okay. Alright.
Well, it's been a pleash, you know?
[Beatrix] Ah-ah, wait, ho-hold it.
How do I know you're not lying
about the rat in my crew not lying.
A "who's watching the watchmen" quandary.
Well, I assure you, I have no dog in this fight.
Oh, well, you do now because you're coming with us.
Terrific. Um...
might I just make a quick, uh, pee?
I, uh, already have pissed myself five times today,
and yet still a little something left in the tank.
The window is too small to fit through.
-[scoffs] -[toaster dings]
-Oh, no, no! -Darling, what is it?
Oh, the baklava's destroyed.
Everything is destroyed.
All the shooting and running.
I just, I just want my normal life back.
Aw, sweetie.
Soon it's just gonna be you and me in paradise,
my little panino.
[* tense music playing]
Yeah, I can see the, uh,
the pilot in sight.
Uh...
nary a Fed in sight,
so go forth and flee, and nice knowing ya.
[Beatrix] [on radio] Nuh-uh! You're going in first.
If this is an ambush, you get the first bullet.
Well, you sure are thorough.
Give you that.
Fuck. [sighs]
[* tense music playing]
Okay, I'm going inside the plane.
Go ask the pilot if he's working with the Feds.
I'm trusting no one right now.
[* tense music continues]
Uh, excuse me, sir?
Oh, what the fuck?
-[sirens wailing] -[* dramatic music playing]
[tires squealing]
[Beatrix] Shit! The Feds!
[* dramatic music continues]
Put your weapons down now!
Alright, boys, we're gonna have to shoot our way out of here.
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.
Don't fire! Jeffrey, stop!
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.
No, no, no. No, no, no, no.
[Agent Luca Clark] Sir, halt!
[Jeffrey] No. Nope, nope, nope, nope.
-[gun clicks] -Shit!
Sir, halt or I will shoot.
-Luca? -Don't fire!
No, no, no!
[gunshots]
What the fuck?
Jeffery!
[gunshot]
Hold your fire! We need her alive!
[Beatrix screams]
-Drop your weapon! -[gunshot]
[* ominous music playing]
-Put the weapon down! -What the fuck are we doing?
-Are we shooting? -I don't know!
Stay where you are!
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Oh, man, what's with this pre-9/11 bullshit?
Jeffrey's dead, and it's all your fault.
Ah, listen.
[gunshot]
[Agent Don Hooper] Beatrix Hasp is running scared.
Her family tree has undergone
some significant, uh, pruning recently,
like Prescott with his...
What's that tree you can't shut up about?
Japanese maple tree, sir.
My neighbors are claiming that the roots
are damaging the retaining wall,
but I've spoken to three separate arborists
-who've told me-- -Alright. Jesus.
New metaphor before Johnny Appleseed here
creams his trousers.
The current prognosis for the Hasp organization
is: stage four terminal.
Our job is to sign the DNR.
Thanks to some excellent work by Special Agent Luca Clark,
we now have a tier-one source inside the Hasp crew.
Luca?
[clears throat] Thank you, sir.
According to my source, Hasp and her crew
are on their way to a safe house.
We have it staked out, and we'll take them
with a tactical team when they arrive
and apprehend them before they flee the country.
I'll be running point on the operation.
I just-- How did you flip Tony Ice Cream?
I tried to once. I do not have
the special Luca touch, I guess.
Well, I can neither confirm nor deny
the identity of my informant.
I haven't even told Hooper who it is.
-Protocol, you know? -That is smart.
People say rules are meant to be broken,
but a lot of those people are in federal prison.
Or tremendously successful in their field.
-You know me. No shortcuts. -I know.
Hey, by the way, if you need me for anything on this,
I've got your back, old friend.
Hmm. [clicks tongue] Me too.
[sings] * Here's to us *
* Who's like us *
-* Darn few * -* Damn few *
-You went for the damn. -I said damn.
-I said darn. -I'm vulgar.
I'll see you, dude.
[* tense music playing]
[* gentle music playing]
* Burgers and fries *
* Cherry pies *
* It was simple and good back then *
* Walking in the sand hand in hand *
* Never thinking that it could end *
* Making our love with the moon above *
* At the drive-in picture show *
The name of that rat better be
in this weenies can.
No, it's not.
It says, "Safe house not safe," though.
And I lined up a nice alternative,
free Wi-Fi, decent waffle bar.
No HBO, sadly.
You really are completely useless.
Useless? After all the information
that I have given you over the years?
I've given you so much money.
It's called a transaction.
How much grace you think that's gonna buy
if I wind up in bracelets?
Do you really think it's such a good idea
to threaten a federal agent?
Cool your jets, Maverick.
The tough guy thing goes over a lot better
if you're not nursing from your baby bottle.
I have an ulcer, and you know that I have an ulcer,
and my doctor says that my ulcer is all because of you.
You told your doctor you're a dirty Fed
on the mob's payroll?
My doctor said a common cause is work stress,
and I extrapolated from there.
Who's the stray in your muscle car?
Your incompetence requires a backup plan.
Find that fuckin' rat.
Shit.
[clears throat]
[* tense music playing]
Alright, let's go.
Let's make a left out of here.
[officer] [on radio] Still no sign of Hasp
or her crew at the safe house, sir.
[Agent Hooper groans]
Are you alright, sir?
I got this stupid black-tie wedding on the 26th,
and I need to fit into my stupid tuxedo,
so I got up at 5:30 for abs and ass day,
and, Luca, where the fuck are they?
I don't know, sir.
My Hasp source
must have given me bad info.
I don't want excuses.
I want you to do your job.
Let's pack it up. They're not coming.
[officer] [on radio] All units, stand down.
We're pulling out.
It's Beans, right?
[phone rings]
He's unreliable, Beans. Don't beat up on you...
Come on. I can help you, Luca.
Just let me in a little.
[sings] * Who's like us *
Sorry, Danny, I gotta go.
[* tense music playing]
[door beeps]
What happened?
I can't keep up with her.
Go here. Go there.
Uh, the safe house isn't safe.
Uh, there's not enough room to pack your whisks.
Jeffrey, did you warn her about the raid at the safe house?
No! No, of course, not.
What, are you crazy? I'm scared enough as it is.
I really think I better get back soon.
Right, the crew'll get suspicious.
Yeah, and my phyllo dough,
if it thaws, it's not gonna bake properly.
We're running out of time.
Do you think she'll cooperate or not?
I get the feeling she's not gonna go for it.
What makes you say that?
I would never, ever cooperate
with the federal government.
It's just this feeling I get.
-[sighs] -Look...
I've thought about this very hard,
and I've decided I want to go
into the witness protection program on my own.
I love Beatrix very much,
but she prioritizes her work ahead of me
and it's time I put my needs first.
Jeffrey, we can't really justify
the expense of witness protection
without your wife's involvement.
Well, that hardly seems fair.
You know practically nothing about her operation.
It's actually kinda shocking how little you know.
I told you, all this Mafia stuff is so boring.
I mean, the hits and the capos
and the, the moles and the no-show jobs.
Ugh, enough already.
Moles. You mean rats, right? Not moles?
As long as they stay out of my rhubarb, I don't care.
Is that how Hasp knew about the raid?
Does Beatrix have a mole in the bureau?
Jeffrey, exposing an FBI mole would be enough
to justify WITSEC, with or without your wife.
I wish I could help, but as you say,
I-I know very little.
I'm gonna show you...
[agent] Some pictures of the federal agents
in this operation.
I need you to tell me if you've seen
any of these people talking to
or interacting with Beatrix.
[* tense music playing]
Jeffrey, these are the best beignets
that I've had outside the French Quarter.
-Stop it. -Maybe inside.
Ah, you're making me blush.
Judge Palmer's wife was diagnosed
with Hodgkin's lymphoma,
so he's got a lot of medical bills.
So, he's got a palm to grease. Or maybe it was Non-Hodgkin's.
Anyway, he's your golden ticket
to a mistrial.
What's that look?
[agent] Jeffrey, do you recognize
any of these faces?
Yes, I know who your mole is.
Great. Who is it?
I'm not gonna tell.
Are you serious?
You'll get your mole once Beatrix is in custody
and I am safely in witness protection,
not a moment before.
It's too risky.
Listen, I love my little gal,
but she packs quite the punch.
Oh, by the way, she's booked a private plane
to fly us out of the country today.
A mob mole in the FBI. That's crazy.
I don't need fucking color commentary.
Just read the lips, please.
Okay, best way to ensure your safety is
to fake your death when we raid the plane.
Well, that seems very unpleasant.
We do this all the time.
When the raid starts, you run.
I'll say, "Halt or I will shoot!" That's the cue.
I'll pretend to shoot you with these. They're blanks.
No, I've heard that those can actually be very dangerous.
Yes, at a very close range the powder charge can hurt you,
but I'll be far enough away for it to be perfectly safe.
This shirt has squibs sewn into the fabric.
Do you know what squibs are?
Yeah. They're fake blood packets.
Exactly. When you press this button,
the squibs in your shirt will go off.
It'll look like you've been shot.
Okay. The raid starts.
-Yeah. -I take off.
"Halt or I shoot."
You shoot the blanks, I press the button.
Bang, bang, bang. Goodbye, Jeffrey.
Okay, listen, I better get back to the hotel
because Beatrix is bringing me some cobbler for dessert,
and that's my favorite.
Just don't overdo it
when the squibs go off.
I've seen a lot of witnesses blow
their cover with bad death acting.
I will have you know that this is not
my first time treading the boards.
I've done a lot of community theater.
I didn't know that.
W-W-What were you in?
Loads, like "Cabaret," "Assassins."
I did a production of "Into the Woods" that
"The Dutchess County Gazette" called surprisingly...
[agent] Good.
I love "Into the Woods,"
and "Assassins" is criminally underrated.
It's criminally underrated.
Oh, my gosh.
My FBI handler is a Sondheim nut.
How lucky can a guy get?
[sings] * Everybody wants the right to be *
[agent] Be happy.
Life isn't so bad.
Life is not as bad as it...
[both] [singing] * Seems *
-Bad as it steams. -Seems.
[agent] If you keep your bowl on-site, you can--
[sings] * If you keep your goal in sight *
Why would-- He's the best lyricist of the 20th century.
Why would he write "bowl on-site"?
It's harder for me to do my job
if I don't know the song.
Shut the fuck up, Peter.
[* tense music playing]
[Charlie clears throat]
So, it's not cobbler like dessert?
It's cobbler like shoe cobbler,
but she's not actually a shoe cobbler?
No, darling. She's that girl with the freak ability
to tell when people are lying.
She's here to find our rat.
Ah, well, that's neat.
Ooh, I like that shirt by the way.
It's very handsome. Is it new?
No, I'm just preparing for the tropics.
[Charlie] Hey-Hey, uh, check it out.
I pronounce you, uh, rat-free.
Unless, of course, Jeffrey here is working for the Feds.
Nope, sorry.
Okay, also true. Alright, so nothing to do here.
[Jeffrey] No, no, no, no, no!
[Beatrix] Darling, what is it?
[Jeffrey] Oh, the baklava's destroyed!
Everything's destroyed!
[phone ringing]
Agent Clark.
Hey. Hey. Uh...
So, uh...
[toilet flushes]
So, Beatrix Hasp kidnapped me
because she wanted me to find her rat,
which I did, but I lied about it
because I didn't want anybody to get hurt.
But now we're headed to a plane, so...
Charlie, wait, you're with Hasp right now?
And do you know who her rat is?
Yeah, I gotta say, he seems like a pretty nice guy,
you know, and a very talented iron chef, actually.
I mean, not in that kind of way, but...
I know, I know.
I'm running point on the case.
Wow, you are really good at my job.
Alright, you did the right thing by keeping quiet.
I'm gonna get you both out, but you have to trust me.
Uh, okay, great. So you got a plan?
When you get to the plane, there's gonna be a raid.
I want you to hide in the cockpit and lock the door.
That doesn't sound like much of a fucking plan.
Wait there until I come get you.
Don't trust anyone but me, okay, Charlie?
Not even other agents.
I just learned there's a civilian hostage with Hasp.
She's a friend of mine, actually.
Probably in thrifted clothes.
Uh, genial,
inquisitive, voice like a rusty clarinet.
So, please, please do not engage
until I give the verbal go-ahead.
You heard him, folks, no itchy trigger fingers.
I want the hostage unharmed,
and I want Hasp and her men alive,
at least until they can spill all their deepest
and darkest secrets.
Okay, everybody, into position.
Prescott, what the fuck are you doing?
I think it's an invasive species, sir.
That's really interesting.
Move out!
[* dramatic orchestral music playing]
[in slow motion] No!
No, no, no!
[Agent Clark] [in slow-motion] Sir, halt, or I will shoot.
No, no, no.
[button clicks]
[gun shots]
[Feds shouting]
What the hell kinda plan is this?
I don't know, sir, but I think
Luca's got it under control.
[Beatrix screams]
[gunshot]
What the fuck?
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
[Beatrix] Jeffrey's dead, and it's all your fault!
Ah, listen.
-[gunshot] -Ah!
[heavy breathing]
Wait, I'm okay.
Fuck. She's okay.
What the fuck?
-[gun firing] -[Charlie gasps]
-What? -Huh?
[Charlie screams]
[plastic squeaking]
[footsteps thudding]
Clark, I saw you get shot.
Blanks. It's just the charge from the blank.
She-She-She took my gun.
Your gun was full of blanks?
Oh, would not have guessed Jeffrey.
[* tense music playing]
You're never getting out of this plane.
-Get up. -[Charlie] Fuck.
[Beatrix] Get up, get up.
Move. Back.
Hold up.
Wait a minute.
Why would a Fed be packing a gun full of blanks?
You nailed that. Very convincing, Jeffrey.
Jeffrey?
[* somber music playing]
[phone rings]
[Charlie] [over phone] Beatrix Hasp kidnapped me
because she wanted me to find her rat.
**
Was that the plan? Whacking your own informant?
I mean, who does that?
They were blanks. I checked three times.
Please just tell me you got all this guy's intel
before you iced him.
No, not all of it.
Sir, Hasp is on
the walkie-talkie, and she has demands.
Stall her while I can get an extraction team in place.
But I'm not bureau certified in hostage negotiation, sir.
Oh, but you got your certification
in being a petulant little ding-dong.
Get the fuck out of here.
Let me talk to her.
The hostage is a friend of mine.
Absolutely not! You're benched.
I can do it, sir.
Lookie here. A professional. Go!
[Danny] [over radio] Ms. Hasp, uh, do you read me?
Yes, but I'm warning you,
this is an adult situation we have here,
so proceed carefully.
I understand, and all I want is to make sure
that nobody else gets hurt here.
Bullshit.
That-- It sounds like your hostage
is alive and well, so that is good.
[Beatrix] [over radio] I wanna speak with Jeffrey.
Uh, Ms. Hasp, Jeffrey's dead.
You think I was born yesterday?
I've seen the gun full of blanks.
I know a fake death when I see one.
Now put my ungrateful rat husband on the horn.
Oh, okay.
Hey, you're correct.
Your husband was an FBI informant,
and it appears there was a plan to fake his death,
but that went awry.
A live round got put in with the blanks,
and he was shot for real.
Is that true?
Uh... yeah. Every word.
[* somber music playing]
[sighs softly]
Okay, Jeffrey's dead. Boo-hoo.
Now I want a real pilot.
Let us get on that.
We'll get you a pilot that can take you anywhere
safe and sound, coming up.
Bullshit.
Hey, I'm not kidding, pal.
Do not play games with me.
I've got a mole in the FBI.
This is unbelievable.
She'll say anything to get out of...
That would explain how she knew about the safe house.
Find out more.
Oh, say more about that.
As it turns out, I've had a dirty little mole
on my payroll for years.
Push comes to shove,
I can be convinced to divulge his identity.
So, what do we do here?
Well, this is what we call a transaction.
You give me what I want, I give you what you want.
Hasp, this is Special Agent in Charge, Hooper.
You've got a deal.
No games.
You guarantee us the identity of your mole,
we'll guarantee you safe passage out of the country.
Okay, uh, that was true.
Pilot first, then the mole.
-Give us 20 minutes. -No, no.
That's a ruthless fucking criminal in there.
You cannot let her get away.
If there's one compromised agent,
that's more important than one gangster.
It's a rot in our very foundation.
If there's a mole, I want his head on a pike.
[* tense music playing]
[Charlie] Hey, gosh, it must be really handy
having your own FBI mole, huh?
Is he, uh, out there helping you right now?
[phone rings]
-Charlie? -[Charlie] [over phone] Because if he is,
if your mole is out there,
well, I gotta say now would be a very handy time
to have him come to your rescue.
I really suggest you mind your own business.
[Charlie] You know, come to think of it,
I-I do recall us, uh, suddenly changing directions,
uh, after we stopped at that gas station
and you were talking to a guy who was,
a, a guy in a suit.
Was that your mole?
It was, wasn't he? So, what was he?
He was like a, a white guy, right?
Like a medium build, uh,
30s to 50s, I wanna say...
Crap.
[Beatrix] [over phone] Why do you care so much who my mole is?
If I did know who your mole was,
uh, well, I might be able to help us get out
of this sticky situation, uh.
Hey, look, just between us girls,
who is your mole?
And I promise I, uh, won't tell.
[* tense music continues]
Hey, guys, guys, guys!
I think it's a Florida Torreya tree.
[over phone] It really is!
Always favored the pant leg, huh?
Gimme!
God.
Hey, Agent Fuckface!
Go blow a dog!
-[phone disconnecting] -Char--?
I hope you enjoyed it
because that was your last living misdemeanor.
Hey, look, I don't know why you think
this mole man is just suddenly gonna show up for you.
I mean, if he's willing to betray the government
just for a few extra dollars,
why is he suddenly putting his neck on the line for you?
For what? Uh, uh, just for principle?
I mean, why are you trusting this guy, whoever he is?
Oh!
[* melancholic music playing]
'Cause I don't have anyone else.
[sobs]
Geez, man, I...
Look, I-I-I'm-I'm sorry about Jeffrey.
I don't want your charity, and I don't want your advice.
Besides, it was your dumb-shit buddy who shot him!
Okay, look...
I don't think...
that was an accident.
I-- If there is one thing that you and Luca have in common,
it is thoroughness.
And I also don't think
that it was on purpose, because why?
Why would Luca want his informant dead?
I mean, there's only one fed
who would wanna silence Jeffrey, alright?
-Your mole! -My mole!
Excuse me, sir, we should be busting in there right now
and taking her by force.
We're playing right into Hasp's hand right here.
Really? This is her grand plan?
To be trapped inside a hangar surrounded by federal agents?
The mole thing is just a feint, sir.
She's just trying to buy time
so more of her goons can show up to help her.
And what do you even know about
this mysterious hostage, huh?
What do you even know about this woman?
I just promised Hasp a pilot
and a free pass out of the country.
So, she has absolutely no reason to...
What in God's name is Clark doing now?
There's only one option left.
Give yourself up?
Kill as many Feds as possible!
-[Charlie gasps] -Beatrix Hasp,
my name is Luca Clark.
I'm the federal agent who shot your husband.
We'll start with him.
[* tense music playing]
I think your mole killed Jeffrey
to keep his identity secret,
and I think he's gonna find a way to silence you too
unless you tell me his name so I can stop him.
You want me to rat on my mole like a snake?
No.
I wanna help you get out of this.
Why?
Because I failed your husband.
It was my job to protect him, and I screwed it up.
Wait, Luca, did you kill Jeffrey on purpose?
No.
Jeffrey loved you, Beatrix, very much.
But he knew you'd always choose your work over him,
and he chose to put his own needs first for once.
Call that what you want.
I call it brave.
Okay, so that's true.
Come on, Beatrix.
[Danny] Beatrix, it's time to do
the right thing, right thing.
Tell us who the mole is.
Jesus Christ, you redheaded alley cat.
Who even are you?
Alright, fuck it.
I'll tell you who my mole is.
The mole's name is...
[* tense music playing]
Maverick McTitticutty.
Is i-- [sighs] Is she serious?
Well, she's not lying, but, honey, I-I do think
that maybe he gave you a fake name.
Well, I don't know. Typical white guy.
We're all typical white guys.
We have some serious flaws with our hiring process.
Uh... milk. Milk.
He-- At the gas station, he was drinking milk.
I mean, who even drinks milk anymore?
Most mammals.
Maverick is always bitching
and moaning about his ulcer.
Danny? [stammers]
No, th-that's...
Not Da-- No, he's-he's-he's my friend.
I've known him since the Academy.
Oh, whoa. Who's Danny?
Daniel Clyde-Otis. It's hyphenated.
What? That sounds even more made up
than Maverick McTitticutty.
Oh, God, I set my gun down for just a minute.
When Charlie called, Danny was right there.
He must have switched out a blank for a live round.
Man, this spineless weasel.
And here and I thought we were dealing with a mole.
He's a weasel and a mole.
And now possibly a snake.
Who the fuck can keep up with this jargon?
Hey, boss federale,
I'll tell you the name of my mole
right this second if you promise me WITSEC.
This is Agent Hooper, and you've got a deal.
Good. His name is Clive Owen.
Clyde-Otis?
Clyde-Otis!
Hand it over. Hand it over handle first.
Now scoot. Now scoot over. Get over there.
Close to her.
Everyone's gonna do what I say,
-and nobody's going to get hurt. -Oh, bullshit.
[Daniel "Danny" Clyde-Otis] I don't know who you are, lady,
but I find you really rude.
Danny, please, don't do this.
[sings] * Here's to us *
-* Who's-- * -[gunshot]
[Charlie] Oh, God.
You asshole!
Stay down, Luca.
Put your hands right over your head.
-Now, just a thought... -Stay out of this, tramp.
You know what? Why don't you go ahead?
[groans]
[agents grunting]
-[Luca screams] -[gunshot]
[Charlie] Jesus!
[Luca screams]
Hey. Hey. Easy, alright?
Just fucking knock it off.
What are you gonna do? You're gonna shoot an FBI agent?
-Look at you! -[gunshot]
-[board thuds] -[groans]
Well, I guess Jeffrey was right,
uh, those things are actually pretty versatile.
[Danny] Yep! Psst.
Ma'am.
Hey. [whistles]
Prince of the city.
This guy?
-How you doing? -Oh, better than you, pal.
Yeah, that's for sure.
Here, face out like we're browsing.
I'll give you $16,000
if you tell them Luca's really the mole.
Sixteen? I'm sorry, how'd you come up with that sum?
Look, it's enough to start over with.
Fine. Fine. $22,000, clean. You got an offshore account?
Buddy, I-I don't even have an onshore one.
$125,000 cash. Just get me out of this.
I'm sorry. Let me get this straight.
So, you started at 16, but you had 125?
You really are a bad person.
-I'm not a bad person. -Alright, who's a hero?
I'm a person who's done some bad things.
-Congrats on being a person. -Yeah.
-And good luck with your ulcer. -Hm.
[sighs]
Is my WITSEC good to go?
Seeing as you've helped us arrest a compromised agent
and you're agreeing to testify against the other four families
in the Southwest Syndicate, yes, it is.
On one condition, cancel the hit on Charlie.
Oh!
Oh, okay.
Ah, geez.
Ah, thanks, buddy.
I appreciate you going to that trouble.
Of making sure you don't get murdered?
Yeah, it's very much the least I can do.
Plus, if you got whacked, it would be
a real blow to my career.
Ready when you are, Mrs. Hasp.
I'm really, uh, I'm sorry about Jeffrey.
Maybe witness protection will be a chance
to live the kind of life he wanted for us.
A fresh start.
A fresh start, huh?
I like that.
Ah, maybe I got one of those on my hands too.
Yeah.
No mob on my tail,
uh, nothing to run from.
Hmm.
[* "Barracuda" by John Cale playing]
* Dark woman in the water drowning *
* Sinking in a funny way *
* Black footing for a face exploding *
* Mimicking our final days *
* The ocean will have us all *
* Dark woman in a cupboard burning *
* Woman, what have they done? *
* Dark woman like a panther breathing *
* Woman, what can be done? *
* Barracuda, barracuda *
* Won't you lay down your life for me? *
[Charlie] This season on "Poker Face"...
[tires screeching]
I've been thinking about maybe settling down,
getting one of these, uh, normal lives I've heard about.
[speaker 1] This is the first date now.
Make or break time.
I don't know what to wear. Who am I becoming?
I don't know, I kinda like it.
**
Something is amiss.
[speaker 2] I'm gonna find whoever did this.
This is basically murder. Murder!
Everywhere I go, I get sucked into other people's bullshit.
What you're saying is, uh, that you didn't, uh,
murder Maddie but you would have?
-Totally. -Your candor is alarming.
Oh, but here I can just, just be a person.
[* upbeat, jazzy music playing]
It's gonna be a bloodbath.
**
Woo!
**
-You were saying? -I stand corrected.
[* "Barracuda" continues]
* Dark forest with the moon arising *
* Smiling at you out of reach... *