You're a big venue now.
Global commerce,
sports franchises,
chit-chat cafés.
But you don't get it, because you don't see it.
Life is not what you think it is.
Because of guys like us,
you can go on thinking it,
till reality sets in.
Reality's a motherfucker.
The first thing you do when it hits you
is wonder where we are.
We do our shit.
You do yours.
But remember...
It's a dirty world.
And without us, it'd be a whole lot dirtier.
Welcome to Edison.
Heads up. Two harbor cops just showed up.
We got problems in here. If they come near the bank, shoot 'em.
Any units near 12th and Plaza, respond to a silent alarm at the Plaza Bank.
Approach with caution.
We got it.
What was that?
You're out of your fucking mind! You know that?
Fuck!
- You want onions with that? - Yeah.
There you go.
What was that?
Stay down! Stay down!
Go!
Get in the car!
What are you doing? Get in the car!
Stay calm. I know you're hurt.
Don't move.
Come out, come out, wherever you are!
Okay buddy. I know you're hurt. Get you to your feet, okay?
All your friends are dead, fuckhead.
It's just me and you now.
Huh?
Come on GI Joe. Come out and play.
Come on.
Drop the gun, walk away. Or I'll kill her.
Close your eyes, sweetheart. You don't wanna see this.
It's okay.
It's okay. Come on. Come on. It's okay, it's okay.
Just a flesh wound.
It's okay. You're all right.
It's okay, baby. It's okay.
That bad man's not gonna hurt you anymore.
It's okay.
- On your knees! - Come on!
- What's goin' on? - Lock your fingers behind your head!
- Put your hands behind your head! - Come on, crack whores!
Look at that China White, man! Look at that China fuckin' White!
That's my money, too. That's all my money.
- Motherfucker! Bullshit! - Okay, fuckhead.
- You squatters? - Fuck you talkin' about?
- You own this house? - No.
- What about you, huh? - No.
- You got a lease? - No.
You got a mortgage?
Boy, you guys fucked up tonight!
Don't look at me. Don't fuckin' look at me!
Okay, this is how it works.
You never saw us.
We never saw you.
The world just keeps fuckin' turnin'.
- You ain't takin' us in? - Nah.
Got to, old school. We answer up, get capped for losin' that shit.
Yeah? Well, maybe you should leave town.
Motherfuckers!
We'll get his license. Rat his motherfucking ass out to the Feds.
Tired of this bullshit.
Fuck that. Welcome to the majors.
It gets easier after the first one.
Him.
Rafe.
Not ready, bro?
I'll take care of this shit.
The fuck? Oh, you motherfucker!
You fuckin' spit at me? I'll fuckin' kill you!
Ah, Jesus!
Jesus, Jesus!
Jesus!
Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!
Come on, come on, come on, come on!
Stop cryin'.
I haven't seen you around here before. Who are you?
Isiaha. Isiaha Charles. I just moved here with my mom, man.
Who's he to you?
I just met him. He gave me a job.
Where'd you do time?
I've never done time before, never.
- You never did time? - No.
Oh! That is good shit.
You want some?
I'm good.
All right.
This is how it's gonna work.
Your buddy was smokin' crack and he got fuckin' crazy
and he came at you with a knife.
Now, tell me what happened.
My buddy, he got fuckin' crazy...
and he came after me with a knife.
Which is when Sergeant Lazerov and I entered the domicile
in response to a domestic disturbance
and saw the defendant fire one round from a bulldog.
- Is this the bulldog you refer to? - Yes.
Is this the knife you pried from the deceased's hand?
Yes.
- What was he doing with it? - Attempting to stab the defendant.
Now after the deceased... deceased,
did the defendant offer any resistant?
No.
Did he say anything?
He cried, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus."
Cried? What do you mean he cried?
- What do you mean he cried? - He cried, "Jesus..."
That's enough!
- Jesus! Oh, my God! Jesus! - That's enough. That's enough, Officer Deed.
You may step down.
Thank you.
There will be a 10 minute recess. We'll reconvene at quarter past the hour.
- What the hell was that? - Testifying.
- To The Second Coming? - Back off!
Officer Deed?
Officer Deed.
Yeah.
- Why did the defendant just thank you? - Who are you?
- Josh Pollack. Heights Herald. - The Jewish handout?
- It's a community weekly. - The guy is Jewish? You're shittin' me!
I don't know he's Jewish.
And what do you care?
You busted him in Ashtown, that's adjacent to the Heights.
Tell our Jewish friends not to worry. They can still walk to worship.
So why'd he say thank you?
It's a manslaughter and possession beef.
- It could've been murder. - So why did FRAT catch this?
Talk to public affairs.
Officer Deed, can you tell me why FRAT is cruising the streets?
Talk to public affairs.
Guy thanked you?
(Fuck you!)
Jack-off.
I hate that fuckin' guy.
- Who's that? - Wallace. Pussy.
Hey.
How'd court go, Frank?
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Something I should know?
No. Same old, same old.
Deed's first murder testimony.
Yep. Weapons possession. 18 months.
Rafe. Inspection Monday.
Be sure you're there.
Pollack.
Pollack!
Pollack.
Sir?
What are you doing?
Article on the murder trial.
I told you to put the verdict on the police blotter.
- That's a sentence, not a tome. - It's a legitimate story.
Then find a legitimate paper to publish it. All I want is the verdict, okay?
Fraud.
Sorry, did you say something?
No, sir. I didn't.
That's what I thought.
Actually I said fraud.
Did you now?
You know why The Times won't hire you, Pollack?
You don't do the work.
A thousand words, not a single fact except for the verdict.
Everything else is unsupported supposition.
FRAT wouldn't talk to me.
So, the point of covert police work is not to talk about it.
This incident is public record, sir!
Involving undercover police who'd like to keep a low profile, so they can sleep at night.
You can't imply nefarious activity, because a felon whispered thank you to one of them!
- I qualified it with a question. - You qua...?!
Watch my lips, son. You're not qualified to qualify.
Nobody cares what you think.
Only what you know and you don't know diddly, 'cause you don't do the work!
Which is unfortunate, because this is about as well written as you are uninformed.
You know what?
I think you should try novels. You're fired.
This isn't a real paper anyway.
Perfect for you. Lazy little shit.
Get out while you can.
Shit!
Rafe.
Don't make yourself crazy. You're gonna give yourself a hernia.
Come on. Let's go to bed.
All right. You want the free range Chicken Kiev with scalloped potatoes,
or a mellage of July vegetables over risotto in a bell pepper sauce?
I would like a meal prepared to order, not manufactured for distribution.
Ashford was right.
About what?
All this articulate conjecture wrapped around one fact.
Isiaha Charles, was convicted of illegal weapons possession.
- Right. - 8 words, if you count the preposition.
- Another critic. - You asked me to read it.
- It was a mistake. - Because I agree with him?
Come on, sweetie.
You know, I thought being fired was the highlight of my day.
You're great sex.
But imperious and penniless are serious social handicaps
and you should stick with your strengths.
I was hoping for sympathy.
Poor baby.
Well, yeah. That would've worked.
Yeah, that's bullshit.
Rafe.
Talk to me, please.
Is it your headaches again?
Leave it alone. Please.
I said I'm okay.
- What's wrong with you? I'm worried. - I'm okay.
I'm all right.
I'm gonna take a ride.
Rafe, please, you need to get help.
He couldn't have done better. Believe me.
Hey, Rafe.
What's up? You're almost a no-show for inspection.
- Oh, no, no. I was coming. I had dinner at Maria's. - I thought you were ending that.
I'm in the process of ending it.
Well, you know you can get inspected every day of the week, Rafe, if you need it.
But there are no exceptions.
I need your commitment, son.
I made my commitment.
That's for sure.
All right. Let's go have some fun.
- Say hello to Marilyn. - Hey, Marilyn.
Hey, hero. The girls will be happy to see you.
He's making me just a little bit nervous.
You stalking me now?
I'm not lazy.
You're stoned.
And you are a vision of temperance.
This is Cambodia.
It was Kampuchea at the time.
Wow!
- I mean, I knew you used to be somebody, but... - You're burying the lead, kid.
- Come on, man, I'm a good writer. - So what?
Well, that builds strong papers.
- And this story is important. - Pollack.
I don't publish stories. I publish coupons for nice friendly local merchants,
who don't kidnap the competition,
bomb the cross-town bus, or immolate themselves.
- Am I wrong about the story? - What do I know?
- Help me get it right. - Do the work.
I was in court, I took notes and I tried to talk to FRAT.
Talk to the defendant.
- Huh? - He's in Longworth.
Oh! Afraid to visit prison?
How about talking to somebody who knows the defendant?
Like his mother.
How about visiting the scene of the crime,
- make your own assessment? - Okay.
- You're right. - As if I need your affirmation.
I'm not telling you to do this, kid. I'm telling you not to.
Could be dangerous.
Will you help me or not?
Why the sudden urge to get this right?
My girlfriend read it.
Agreed with you.
Right. You're doin' this for pussy.
- I wouldn't put it that way. - For pussy.
What happened to you?
- Don't talk to the system. - What the hell does that mean?
Make up somethin'.
5:52 a.m.
The call was for a D & D, domestic disturbance.
We knocked. Couldn't be heard over the shouting.
Well the time... 5:52 a.m.
5:17, 6:10.
There's no 5:52.
No report that date and address.
Filed by a Sergeant Francis Lazerov, or an Officer Raphael Deed.
- FRAT files aren't public record. - Why?
- We can't speak for FRAT. - Who can?
FRAT.
Even if you were with a real newspaper, I wouldn't talk to you. That's policy.
It's public record, Captain Tilman.
It's trial and conviction. Not us, all right? Here we go.
If you gonna turn every beef between two losers into headlines,
that's gonna seriously compromise our ability to preempt social deviancy.
You know, we might as well pack it up and close shop.
Screw John Q. Citizen. Is that what you want?
I don't think so.
Have a good one.
- Bern! - Sir.
This is Captain Tilman, head of our First Response Assault & Tactical Unit.
FRAT for short.
Thanks in a large part to this gentleman, we're looking at an
82% reduction in homicides, 69 in felonies, 71 in sexual assault.
We those numbers, we can insitute an early intervention mediation program.
In fact, I see a day when we won't need courts at all.
- Hi. - No! You stay away.
No, no, no. I'm just lookin' for somebody. Ms. Melba Charles?
- Oh! - She lives here, right?
She's over there.
Oh, Jesus!
Isiaha Charles? I'm Josh Pollack. I'm a writer.
I was at your trial.
Oh, yeah.
Here.
Listen...
After Officer Deed testified, you said thank you.
Why?
Look, man. I can't talk about the trial.
Can we talk about you?
Who you were before this?
By the way, I'm very sorry about your mother.
What about my mother?
Her stroke.
Stroke?
You don't know.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, when?
- A few days ago, I guess. - Well, how bad of a stroke?
Is my mother a vegetable?
I'm sorry.
Oh, Mama.
Motherfuckers!
A'ight. Look. You gotta get me outta here. You gotta get me to my mother.
- I can't. - No, you can.
If you get me outta here, I will tell you everything you wanna know about the trial.
- I don't know how. - About the way they capped Rook.
What?
Stole the crack, the 40 G's. Made up that shit about the knife.
I'll tell you it all.
Ma...
I love you.
You hang on.
I'll be home soon.
I promise.
You get this to her.
You promise me.
Fuck!
I'm sorry.
Mrs. Charles.
Ma, I love you.
You hang on. I'll be home soon.
I promise.
Josh, you call me at this hour? I'm not your personal editor.
Just read this.
This is a Pulitzer.
What's it for?
Blowing the judging committee. What do you think?
You saw Isiaha's arrest report?
- Copies of the court transcript. - No mention of cash, coke or guns?
- No. - The emergency dispatch?
The copy's there.
There's no record of a 911 that time, date, address.
And you talked to the District Attorney, the Public Defender, Judge.
You told me not to talk to the system.
What do you think?
It could dismantle the department when it's done.
What's missing?
The other side of the story.
They're murderers.
If you believe Isiaha Charles.
You won't publish it as is?
I won't publish it at all. But The Times will,
- if you get the department's side. - The department? They're murderers.
Right. You're doing this for pussy.
I'm doin' it for this.
Fourth estate, Pollack.
It's the only job protected by the Constitution, and this is why.
This is tyranny.
When you see it, you're obligated to yell.
A risk you're unwilling to take, and I don't blame you.
Now, in your newfound enlightenment, I'm willing to take you back to the Herald,
but don't call yourself a journalist.
The coupon king has spoken.
Good night, Pollack.
Oh, here, take this with you.
Go on, leave. Leave!
Go!
Get the door.
You move, you die! Spread 'em! Spread 'em!
Here. Get against the wall.
Hey, Deed!
I got a little somethin' for ya!
Come on, baseball.
Watch your step!
Fuck!
Shut up and give me your other hand.
- Bern, I owe you. - Not now.
- Anything... - Not now, not here.
Girls, come on.
- Everybody, come out. Laz. - Yeah.
- Take the girls out. - Come on, girls.
- I'm gonna go downstairs. - Party at my house.
- Line up over here, - Let's go.
Come on sweetie.
Come on.
Come on!
Here you go, cupcake.
The fuck am I gonna do with this?
I thought you gave up muckraking, Moses.
It's Pollack's story.
You heard of anything like this, Levon?
Sure all the time. From felons.
Well, there it is.
D.A.'s office doesn't comment on unsubstantiated accusations.
Why don't you guys come back when you have specifics, hmm?
We can't be more specific.
What are we talking about here?
Innuendo? Hearsay?
D.A. needs names. Otherwise the office can't respond.
Jack, when did you start referring to yourself as an inanimate object?
You run a community weekly, Moses.
And I'll always have time for you,
but now, I'm afraid, that time is up.
Mr. Pollack.
Mr. Reigert, Mr. Wallace.
These aren't the good old days, Moses.
They never were, Jack.
- Why wouldn't you give him-- - Not now.
- If you were to just-- - Not now!
Ashford doesn't come here easily.
He didn't come with anything specific or actual either, Lee.
Ignore it. I'm not insulting Tilman with this.
Yeah, it's Jack.
Can you come on over?
- Why weren't you more specific? - You have a source to protect.
I was that vague, you fired me.
Do you know how pervasive this is?
- What, you think they're involved? - I don't know who's involved, and neither do you.
Then why did we even come here?
Levon Wallace, the city's best investigator. If the story holds up,
he'll confirm it.
What do we do now?
I publish coupons. You should be looking for a job.
- Mr. Ashford... - Look, kid.
You've got a story, you've got access to the D.A. and his best investigator.
If you can't make a career out of that, you don't belong in this business.
Mr. Ashford...
Drop the Mister, okay? I'm out of this game.
And your late night visits irk me.
If Wallace confirms your story, then you have to put the question to Tilman, Lazerov and Deed.
Use a phone. And pray they don't take the call.
Moses!
Look, kid. It's Friday. Go do what you're supposed to do.
Go get laid, for chrissake.
- Get out of the way, get out of the way. - Come on! I wasn't doin' anything, guys.
- Yeah, whatever. - Give us some room.
- I got it, I got it. - Look out, comin' though!
Hey.
Just here to dance.
Have a good time.
What?
Oh, my God!
Poppy!
Pollack.
Who's that?
He was at the court.
We have to go.
- Why? - We have to go.
That's the guy from your story?!
He's kinda cute, right?
Are you dating other people?
I don't think you have to worry about it. Looks like he just got engaged.
I saw that. Tough break for you.
You never put a face on it, do you?
When you publish your story, it's gonna ruin his life.
I'm not ruining his life.
I said your story. God! It is always about you, right?
I do think about that. Okay?
I think about ruining somebody's life.
You're not gonna get all self-absorbed and mopey?
Don't get all soft and mopey.
Hey, hey! What are you doing?
Come on! Move! Move it!
Get out of the wayl
Move, move!
Don't move, man, help's comin'.
Officer Deed, Edison P.D. I have two people down outside the Plaza Nightclub.
And I have a medical bracelet here.
It says, "serum prothrombin conversion, blood type O."
Stay still, buddy, help's comin'.
- She needs help. - I know. Stay still.
Are you okay?
Yeah.
- What the... Wallace? - You ever answer your fuckin' phone?
- You? - I've been up all night.
Pollack got the shit kicked out of him last night. So did Willow Summerfield.
What? Who?
I assume it's his girlfriend. I've just left them both at the Methodist.
How bad?
She's in a coma.
She's got something called Factor 7 deficiency. It's a blood disorder.
They don't know how she's gonna survive.
And Pollack?
Took a beating, but he'll be all right.
- Mugged? - Warned.
Who are you?
Deed. Edison P.D. Who are you?
- You don't wanna be here. - Who are you?
Moses Ashford, I own the paper he works for.
How bad is he?
He's banged up.
Sedated. Do you care?
- Tell him somethin' for me. - Tell him what?
Tell him I had nothing to do with this.
- With what? - You gonna tell him or not?
Officer Deed.
Is there any hope for you, son?
No.
Let go.
- What are you doin'? - Let go of me.
It's not safe for him here.
Move him somewhere safe.
Come in.
Make yourself as comfortable as you can.
The market will deliver. I put it on Wallace's tab, so don't worry about that.
You got complete run of the house, but, no matches,
- no light and no fire at any time near the barn. - Yeah, yeah, yeah. You told me three times.
It's all full of dry hay. It'll go up like a torch.
Wallace will have our hives if anything happens to this place. It's been in his family for years.
Why do I have to stay here?
You don't have to stay here. You can take a plane and go home to mommy.
I wanna be near Willow.
Believe me, it's safer for both of you with you here.
Things will change when I publish.
You can't publish.
- Why not? - Look at what they did to me!
Oh! Serious journalism doesn't look so good up close and personal, huh?
It's a little hard to tell with this large thing hanging over my eye.
- Thank you. - Uh-huh.
So who's a fraud now?
You know what? You don't even know what it's like.
Life's a bitch, ain't it?
Think you can swim, till you jump into the deep end of the pool,
and then it's, "Oh shit! Where are my water wings?"
This isn't from a swimming pool.
No, this is what you aspire to.
You want a prize? Here's your shot.
See, when you asked Charles to tell you his story, you committed to telling it.
Now you have a moral imperative.
People depending on you.
Doesn't get any better than that, kid.
Why are you doin' this to me?
'Cause you did it to me. I'll call you later.
How can I help you, Frank?
What were you doing at that club?
Yoga, exercises, aerobics. What do you think I was doin'? I was dancin'!
Dancin'?
Yeah, dancin'. You ever dance? It's a dance club, Frank.
Well, I'm fuckin' James Brown. Watch me.
- Ow! - Yeah, I feel good.
- I got soul! - Yeah, neck bones, candy ass.
- Right, right. Right. Right. Right. - Oh.
- After you clocked out... - Hmm?
...Tilman got a call.
Right.
That kid from the Herald was makin' noise at the Hall. Nothin' hardcore,
but enough that we felt he needed to come to Jesus.
The girl need one, too?
I didn't know she had bad blood.
- At the time, I just figured her a bonus. - Right.
Give a guy a sermon, can piss him off, make him stupid.
Chapter and verse to the girlfriend, he'll think twice about gettin' dumb now.
Yeah.
This is from Tilman.
You gotta worry.
Right.
Pollack. The kid's got nothin'.
His source.
Who?
Your Jesus buddy got shanked at Longworth.
Drive safe.
...for kids who have special needs, we're gonna provide more school...
Fuck!
Who the hell told you?
Lazerov said it came from you. I went to the hospital. I went...
And I saw some guy, I don't know who it was, and there was Deed.
Deed was talking to him, so I took off.
Lazerov said...
Lazerov said? When did that start?
Please, give me a break.
- Give you a break? - Lazerov said...
He's taking you over to the hospital, and he's taking Wu over to the hospital,
nobody's calling me, nobody's saying anything to me.
- I thought you knew. It's not up to me-- - How would I know?!
Oh, shit.
Well thank you. Thank you.
Sweetheart, thanks ever so much for dropping by and laying this shit on me.
Hospital security.
Hey.
- Lazerov? - You got that for me?
Yeah. Pollack was released to Wallace and Ashford.
What'd you get?
Nothin' that can't be mitigated.
Except maybe the photos, taken before help arrived.
Oh! And there's some bad news.
Charles is dead.
- What? - Knifed at Longworth.
Great. If Charles is dead, we got nothin'.
We got a bigger problem.
FRAT collars dealers with drugs, guns, flesh...
guilty verdicts.
Whatever FRAT confiscates, FRAT keeps.
$12 million cash in the past 5 years.
$6 million for ordnance.
4 million for surveillance.
Tilman overpays for everything, 2, 3, 400%.
Take a look at who he's buying from.
Surveillance from Midland.
PCs from Hightower.
Arms from Phoenix.
Oh, Digi-Vector,
they built FRAT's website.
These are the people who own our sports teams!
Yeah. Car dealerships. Retail chains.
- City's leadership. - And the founders...
of the Better Edison Foundation.
- When did this pop up? - Oh, it hasn't yet.
Official opening's next week.
Reigert.
It's a political action committee!
The overpayments end up right here.
Money laundering.
Yeah, well, we're not gonna find any memos on that.
- You just showed me the bones of a covert fascist state. - Mm-hm.
Methodist Hospital.
Hi, I'm calling to check on a patient, Willow Summerfield.
Are you a relatlve?
- A friend. I was in the hospital with her. - Oh.
One moment.
Shit!
Just spread it out here.
FRAT's basic profile.
6' 2'', 200 plus pounds. Perfect scores riffle and pistol.
Each one of them prior to joining FRAT
had three justifiable physical altercations in their jackets.
None of them married, none have kids.
The night Pollack was attacked, he was there.
- Why's that a surprise. - He's with a girl.
Obviously in love, she kept lookin' at an engagement ring like she just got it.
So, two things.
You don't take your honey to a tune-up,
and FRAT don't marry.
I really like living alone, but I'm beginning to think...
What?
I'm beginning to think I need a woman in my life.
Well, shit, don't look at me.
He's not answerin'.
You dialed the wrong number.
I know my own goddamn number. I dialed it twice.
He's gone.
Motherfucker!
Damn it! Why don't I call the County Sheriff?
Because the County Sheriff's Tilman's duck hunting partner.
There, there!
Hello, you've reached the answering machine for Moses Ashford.
Josh!
What the fuck are you doing?
Lazerov was at the farm! Blew up that bastard's car.
- You blew up his car. - He was gonna kill me!
Jesus Christ!
Well Tilman'll rein Lazerov in hard for goin' to my house,
but it doesn't mean you're safe. He's homicidal.
- No shit! - He's killed six people in the line of duty.
Six? And he's still wearing a badge?!
Yeah, well, that was 15 years ago when Edison was the murder capital of America.
When our biggest industry was the production of crystal meth
and when drive-bys were a weekend sport.
Of course that was before you came back to avoid all this.
Did you see Deed give a girl an engagement ring?
Yeah.
Why is that important?
'Cause no member of FRAT's ever been married.
So?
So, it may be the only hook we have to hang our hat on.
- Isiaha Charles can test-- - Charles's dead.
- What?! - He was knifed in prison.
Jesus Christ!
Your work ever ruin a life?
Did it?
You do this job right, you'll ruin lives, celebrate murderers.
And they'll give you a Pulitzer prize for it.
I need you to reach out to Deed.
Look...
You don't have to do this with your life.
But if you're going to, now is when you decide.
- Who is this? - It's Pollack.
- What do you want? - Just meet me at Blunt's.
Damn, Francis, you are outta control.
You are outta control, Francis!
I thought you said you wanted the fear of God put in this guy.
So you thought that extended to his girlfriend?
- I just thought since the girl-- - No, you didn't! You didn't think!
All right? You acted on impulse.
Yeah, on a case I've had to preach on a spouse.
But that's only after due consideration. Due consideration!
You enlisted Marilyn and Wu and you went to that hospital on impulse,
and now this!
- The fuckin' punk was writin' a story about me. - There is no story, Francis!
It's a bunch of allegations made by a convicted felon who is now dead.
Dead!
And that's where it would've stayed had you not dragged it
to the front door of Lee Wallace's family farm.
And now, instead of a scared kid makin' his first foray into the world of journalism,
I got a seasoned investigator up my ass probing FRAT business.
This is gonna require all my attention.
Until it's resolved, you're desk-bound.
You're takin' Wallace's side?
- No. - He's a fuckin' poser!
Rodeo clown with Santa Fe string tie bullshit.
Give me a fuckin' break! I've done everything you asked me to do.
Yes.
He pissed on the idea of FRAT since the beginning.
- That's politics, Francis. - 15 fuckin' years I'm on the streets.
Gettin' rid of the cancer that was killin' this town!
15 years ago, Edison needed brute force to survive.
Now, it needs a little finesse, hardly your strong suit!
I've done everything.
- Every fuckin' thing that you asked me to do. - Yes?
And now what?
You're just gonna throw me in the fuckin' garbage?
I'm on your side, Francis, okay? Let's just go get in the car, all right?
It's not right. It's not fuckin' right you takin' his side.
I'm on your side, right?
It's not right! It's not right you takin' his side.
I'm not taking his--
It's not fuckin' right! You takin' his side!
It's not fuckin' right!
Francis.
You're my guy, you're number one with me.
First and foremost. Since day one. What are you doin'?
You're my guy, okay?
Let's get in the car and get the fuck outta here.
Straight up?
That's no bullshit.
Let's just go get in the car, all right? And cut the shit.
- It's gonna be all right. - I'm sorry. I just need to sleep.
Yeah.
Smooth operator.
- You know I'm in the phonebook. - Your line may be tapped.
- Are you? - No!
I'm not wired.
You're shakin'.
- Yeah, well, I'm scared shitless. - Hey.
I didn't do that to you.
Now where are they?
Down the street.
And who are they?
You should teach.
What?
Well, you're the one who said you needed a woman.
The only guys your age I know havin' sex regularly are college professors.
This is who I am.
When's it to hit the paper?
An officer of the court wants to believe this story.
It's an aberration in a life that has a chance of having value.
Man, my life is over.
- Come on. - What?
Let's go on the back.
Sit down. Have a seat.
Let's go.
What do you mean your life is over? You have a beautiful fiancée.
Yeah.
So you'd walk from that for prison?
I'm not seein' a lotta options.
- The guys out there... - Yeah.
They think you got caught up in this before you knew what it was.
- I knew. - They think you can get immunity.
They want you to tell your story to a superior courtjudge.
Force Reigert and Tilman to resign.
Edison will clean up its own mess.
You think the court's not involved? Huh?
Un-fucking-believable!
Is anybody not corrupt in this town?
I don't know. You?
If it goes to justice, be the guy to take it.
Why?
Well I thought you were in love.
She can do better.
Can you?
I was studyin' plumbin' when you called.
I mean...
Nice.
You know, I often think about that.
Comin' home to Maria, huggin' my children.
Just livin' a normal life.
What's up?
Willow.
What happened to her.
She didn't deserve this.
You're right.
It was a righteous offer.
This is gonna get ugly.
No, no. Let him go.
Just got a call from Hanson at FBI.
Justice is setting up a task force.
Sturm und drang. (=Storm and stress)
If they had anything, they'd be arresting, not searching.
And will they find anything?
- This isn't connected to you. - You're connected to me.
And you're under a microscope.
Because of your... your reckless behavior.
The girl's picture will be everywhere tomorrow.
Wallace and Ashford already know somethin's up.
If that kid's article links me and Better Edison to--
I am the reason that this city is what it is.
And this? This doesn't get near to you.
Yeah, well... I wish I had your certainty.
FBI. This is a Federal warrant.
We're taking all FRAT evidence files.
In my office.
They have impounded your car.
Or what's left of it. Anything you need to tell me right now, Laz?
No, Captain.
Sit on it then, till 01:00.
Go.
Goddamn phones everywhere.
Fuckin' yid from the Herald.
- You don't know that. - Bullshit! He was makin' noise and you...!
...with your "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus", beggin' to be looked at.
You say anything to Maria?
You flap your lips and she can come to Jesus too.
Get his keys. And call 911.
Tilman shot Lazerov. Lazerov's dead.
Apparently Lazerov attempted to shoot Deed. Tilman intervened.
Well, Tilman just served up Lazerov.
Dammit!
Come on. No, wait, Lee.
- What's the point, Moe? - Wait a minute.
Forget it, Moe!
- Forget the whole thing. This isn't going anywhere. - Bullshit!
Pollack.
Shit isn't over.
What are you doing?
Isiaha's dead, Willow's in a fucking coma.
I'll publish myself, if I have to copy it at Kinko's
and pass it out on the street corner.
Okay.
It's a fucking disaster. A fucking disaster!
We were on the short list for the Republican Convention.
The summer fucking Olympics!
And now we're looking at a Federal consent decree?
There's a dead body outside my fucking office!
The fuck are we gonna do?!
It kinda puts a little crimp in your Better Edison thing, doesn't it?
- We gotta do something about him, Lee. - Who, Tilman?
Well... There it is, you know. Yeah.
What about you, Jack?
- Me? - Yeah.
You.
What are we gonna do about you?
I'll be fine. Thanks for asking.
All units, all units please respond.
We have a 5-12 at 6th and Main.
All units.
All units please respond. We have a 5-12 at 6th and Main.
Copy that dispatch. This is 2-6 responding.
Hello?
It's me. Meet me at the courthouse tomorrow morning at 9:00.
Rafe, please talk.
Hello? Rafe?
Josh?
- Maria? - Yeah. Green. Hi.
Thank you so much for helping Raphael get over his fear of doing this.
- I'm Hector, Maria's father. - Hi.
- Where's Rafe? - He's changing in the men's room.
- Okay. - Okay.
Rafe. Rafe!
Yeah, I'm out here.
What's goin' on, man?
What are you doin'?
It's crazy, man.
Tilman shot Lazerov.
Yeah, I know. And your first reaction is, "let's get married"?
It's what she wants.
That's her.
Hey, why are you doin' it?
Death benefits.
What's this?
It's the rest of your story.
Are you sure?
Am I sure of what?
Are you sure you want this? Now I want you to think about it.
Something goes wrong, your whole world comes crashin' down.
And mine, too.
What do you think?
I say write your fuckin' story.
Thank you.
Just remember.
These guys don't fuck around.
They're relentless.
Keep your head down.
- And your door locked. - Thank you.
Come on, I gotta get married. Come on, let's get out.
Rafe, come in.
Hey, Rafe.
- Wha's up, man? - Rafe.
Sit down.
This is a police file photo of Pollack's girlfriend
at the Lazerov's come to Jesus talk.
Yeah. And there it is.
The enemy you can't beat, a photograph.
Ashford's printing this as a tease to Pollack's story on FRAT.
So we say Isiaha Charles is a liar.
He'd say anything to go home and visit his dying mother, right?
Right.
Whatever discrepancies there're between his testimony
and what's actually in the police locker will be offset
when the Feds find the drugs we planted in Lazerov's house.
You rammed the door to compromise its security.
Keep the neighborhood junkies from using the place as a shooting gallery.
Lazerov was unstable.
So the Feds'll buy that. All that's left is Pollack.
Pollack?
He's a kid.
Justice needs the case... closed.
So we give 'em Lazerov.
Herald needs its advertisers, I can handle that.
But with this kid, Pollack?
This kid, Pollack, is like a pup with a bone.
He doesn't wanna hear there's no meat on it, he just keeps gnawin' and gnawin' and gnawin'.
So...
Pollack has to see the man.
It's a partner's duty.
To Laz?
To Laz.
Laz.
What?!
What? What?!
You know what.
You know exactly what. You're the only that who can put an end to this now.
I go to Justice, what I'm dealin' with threatens the people I love.
What's the matter with you?
You're having an argument with yourself. Don't talk to me like I was--
I said it was a righteous offer, but I'm not takin' it.
You're not listening.
I'm not talkin' about my offer.
I didn't say go to Justice.
I said you're the only one that can put an end to this.
- Didn't I? - Yes, you did.
Yes, you did.
Hello, you've reached the answering machine for Moses Ashford.
Please leave a message at the tone.
Hey, it's Josh. You're not gonna believe this.
I just got ahold of the evidence we need on FRAT.
Listen, I don't wanna talk over the phone, but, Moses, you're gonna wanna see this.
I'm layin' out the story now, and then I'll email it to you.
Oh, and I'm also Fed-Ex'ing hardcopies to all the big papers.
I'll talk to you later.
You've got email.
Right. Yes, I know.
Yeah, I sent it to you on email last night, but I'wanna go and send you a hardcopy
just to be safe, so let me go and get your address right now.
Okay. Right. Perfect.
Okay, it's on its way. Thank you. Bye-bye.
Fuck!
What are you doin'?
In the car! In the car! Move! Get in!
Oh, my God!
Shit!
Fuck!
We're gonna fuckin' die.
Open fire!
- Go, go, go! - What?
Go! Go!
Pollack, go to the warehouse!
Look out!
Fuck! Fuck!
Jeez.
Hold your fire!
Deed. You hear me Deed?
Let's stop all this, all right? We don't have to do this.
All I want is the kid. You hear me? All I want is that kid.
Just tell me whatever it is you want...
and we can come to an extremely agreeable solution here.
Same deal you gave Lazerov?
Motherfucker!
The fuck is wrong with you?!
Let's finish this thing.
You go. I'll light this up.
Move, move!
Drop 'em.
Get up.
He's down!
Hey, Rafe! Come on out now. It's over!
I got your boy here. Come on, Rafe!
Get out where I can see you, Rafe.
I'll kill him right here right now I don't see you!
Get out here!
We're finished. It's over. We're done.
You're goddamn right it's over.
- Put it down. - FRAT's over.
Everybody's dead.
Everybody's dead because of you!
Yeah, because of you, because you couldn't do what you were supposed to do!
Put a bullet in this lousy fucker and his two-bed fuckin' story!
Well you do it now, Rafe. You do it!
You put a bullet in his fuckin' head! You do what I tell you to do! You do it!
We walk away, we forget about this shit.
You kill him. Right now you do as you're told. Do it!
You do it!
Because if you don't, I will.
- Duck. - What?
Keep your door locked, kid.
No, not for another 15 minutes. And don't say anything. I'll be out there in a minute.
Where have you been?
- Laying out Pollack's story. - Yeah, well...
The story changed.
And Deed wasn't here.
Detective Wallace. D.A. Reigert's here.
Tilman?
Why are they here?
They're reporters.
The rest of the press is on the other side.
And they're also material witnesses to the dissension in the ranks of FRAT.
All right.
Not much for the FBI to work with, is there?
No, they'll probably close up shop.
This kind of story...
Not really in the Herald's wheelhouse, is it Moses?
- No, it's not. - No.
Tilman have any last words?
Well, there it is. Good day, gentlemen.
He said there was agreement between the D.A.'s office
and judges regarding FRAT related prosecutions.
That cash evidence from criminal trials wound up in the Better Edison Foundation
as part of a reward for your political campaign.
That laundering this money was systematic.
That principals from Midland, Hightower, and other companies were involved.
He said all that?
Then that was unmitigated slander.
I'm gonna go with it,
the minute you run for any elected or appointed office in this state.
Broke as you are, you think that's a smart thing to do?
Now, Jack, did I get broke doin' the smart thing?
In the dead of night, when no reporters were around to cover it,
Wallace removed all evidence of Better Edison.
Willow recovered.
And Deed, he got into another line of work.
It would have violated a sacred trust to turn him in to the law.
And the law already knew.
Justice is a lot like journalism.
Sometimes, the most important questions
are the ones you decide not to ask.