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01x19 - Conflict of Interest

Posted: 08/24/21 15:22
by bunniefuu
Please tell me we're not
giving an inch on this deal.

It's your negotiation.

It's your call.

But take the emotion out of it.

It's not personal.

It's business.

[gentle chamber music playing]



Oh. [Laughs]

[speaks Mandarin]

You just said,
"Thanks for eating my dog

in Shanghai this morning."

[laughs]

Good night, Ryan.

Good night, Michelle.



[tense music]

Time to go home.

I had an aisle seat

and I was sitting next
to the most beautiful woman

I had ever seen.
There was no ring, either.

I couldn't believe it.

Outta nowhere,
this man walks up to me

and asks to switch seats with me

because his wife and kid
are sitting

in the aisle across from me.

- [laughs] You didn't.
- I did.

I-I felt bad.

[crash] What the hell?

What are you doing, dumb-ass?



Hey!

No, no, no, no...



[tense music]



But wait, wait, wait, wait.
Do you remember

when we tied Eric's shoelaces
together

before we breached
that apartment?

- [laughs] Fool. What a fool.
- [laughing]

Man, ah,

- I'm sorry, Juan.
- Oh!

That's a game over, papi.

- Pay up. A bet's a bet.
- Relax.

No need to call the FBI.

Okay, but seriously,
how you doing?

- I'm good.
- Yeah?

For real. [Phone buzzing]

I mean, I'm still working
through some things,

but...
[sighs]

What?

I gotta go,

but if you need anything
or you wanna talk,

you just call me, okay?

I appreciate the offer.

I don't like to bother you, man,

now that you're a big
fancy G-man.

Shut up. I'm here for you.

I'll see you soon.



Hey. Sorry I'm late.

Detective Steve Torino,
Nassau County PD.

I thought this was ours,

but when I saw
the diplomatic plates, I, uh...

You knew the pleasure was ours.

Exactly.

Now, here's the nickel tour
of the scene.

The vics are Ryan Parker...
He's the diplomat...

And his driver, Scott Callum.

What kind of diplomat?

To China, whatever kind that is.

I just did a ten-second search
on my phone.

Any witnesses?

Well, we're still canvassing.
Nothing so far.

Best lead we got is someone
down the block heard g*nf*re

and saw a white van
driving away.

No plate,
but we got the make and model

and we sent out a BOLO.

Well, they clearly waited
for them to go up the driveway,

maybe boxed him in.

Hmm. Any souvenirs left behind?

Negative.
sh**t covered his ass.

Scooped up the casings.



Hey, look at the diplomat's
right hand.

He's got abrasions
on his knuckles.

Maybe there was an altercation.

I don't think so.

This looks like
a straight-up assassination.

Okay, I'll toss the interior.

- You take the trunk.
- Yeah.



Well, the luggage is all here.



Hey, OA.

Look at this.

There's paint that's hanging
off of the bumper,

except paint doesn't hang.

The spectrometry analysis
shows that the white paint

is actually 90-micron vinyl

with adhesive backing.

Meaning the van was wrapped
in automotive contact paper

to mask its actual color. Right.

All right, hey, B,
let's update the BOLO.

We're now looking for a van
that's anything but white.

And we're also looking
for one sh**t.

All the rounds came from
the same 9mm p*stol.

- Okay.
- So we've got one van,

one sh**t, two dead.

What do we know
about these two guys?

Uh, well, we're still doing
our due diligence

on the driver,
but I think we can assume

the primary target
was the diplomat.

I mean, someone sh**t
at The Clash's tour bus,

target's Joe Strummer,
not the roadie.

- Well...
- Don't. Don't.

Don't even start.
And Ryan Parker?

38. Unmarried.

Worked for Google for five years

before joining
the State Department.

His parents live in Tacoma,
Washington,

and his only emergency contacts
in New York City

are his coworkers.

Yeah, well, let's talk
to them right away.

I just got a call from the ADIC.

As you can imagine, our friends
in DC are very anxious

to have this case
solved quickly.

Yep.

Ryan and I worked together
for six years.

We were very close.

What was his official position

with the State Department?

Deputy Assistant Secretary
for Regional Trade.

And you were with Ryan
all week in Shanghai?

Yes, we flew back last night.

We landed at JFK,
then went right to the party

at the consulate.

Why were you in China?

Ryan was negotiating
trade deals.

Apple juice mostly.

And I'm his translator.

I'm sorry, apple juice?

China's the world's
number-one supplier

of apple juice concentrate.

We were discussing
packaging guidelines

to conform
with new EPA guidelines.

Anything unusual happen?

No.
It was pretty boring, actually.

America and China
have their issues,

but apple juice
isn't one of them.

Ryan had fresh scrapes
on his right hand.

You know anything about that?

- No.
- I do.

Ryan told me about
an altercation he got into

yesterday at JFK.

What about?

Luggage.

[dark music]

I was able to pull this
from JFK security.

And there's Ryan.

Keep an eye on the guy
in a baseball cap to the right.



Appears to be male, black,

hat down low.
He knows what he's doing.

What, 5'10"?

Yeah, and watch
what he does next.



He tries to steal Ryan's bag.

So Ryan tries to stop him.

"Excuse me, sir, I believe
you've taken my valise,"

and whoosh!

Out of nowhere, baseball cap guy

takes a swing at him, misses.

And bam, Ryan hits back.
Not a bad right cross.

Yeah, especially for a diplomat.

So the fight starts
to draw attention.

People try to break it up.

Baseball cap guy runs off.

Hey, check it out.



Look who's standing nearby,
watching.

What? That's the translator,
Michelle.

She said she didn't know
anything about the fight.

So either she's lost in thought,

ruminating over the riveting
apple juice negotiations,

or she's lying her ass off.

All right, y'all,
check this out.

We have a new person
of interest.

Her name is Michelle Chang.
She's a Chinese interpreter.

Most recently, she was working
with one of our DOAs,

Ryan Parker. Let's pull her file

and find out more about her,
okay?

Let's go check out
Ryan's suitcase again.

There's gotta be a reason
why he wanted

that particular bag.

Something's gotta be inside it.

Something worth k*lling for.

Shirts, pants, socks.

A shaving kit.

It's all standard stuff.
I don't get it.

If the bag is so important,
then why didn't the sh**t

just take it out of the trunk

after he shot Ryan
and the driver?

Because then we would be
entirely focused

on finding the missing suitcase.

He must have taken something
out from inside here.

All right, check that out.

Whoa. Hold up.

[ominous music]



There's a false bottom.



It's empty.

Okay, let's get someone
to take this to the lab,

see if they can figure out
what was inside.

[phone buzzes]
Yeah.



Michelle Chang is here.



So you told us
that you didn't even know

that Ryan was in a fight,

but that's you right there,
watching.

You're not even 30 feet away.

I didn't see it.

I was looking for my driver.

Well, our forensics team did
a geometric reconstruction

of your eyeline,
and based on their analysis,

they believe
there's a 97.94% chance

that you were looking
right at Ryan.

More importantly, it's
a felony to lie to the FBI,

so you might wanna reconsider
your answer.

Why don't you tell us
about the suitcase?

I met a guy at a club last year.

[dramatic music]

We started hanging out.



He knew I was a translator
for a U.S. diplomat,

so one night he asks
if I wanna make some...

easy money.

What did he want you to do?

Give Ryan a duplicate suitcase.

One with a secret compartment.

Each time we flew back
to New York,

I'd slip a package inside.

Said it was for
his Nigerian friend

who worked at the airport.

What was in that package?

I don't know. I never looked.

How many times did you do this?

Five.



Your Chinese friend...
Did he have a name?

All right, people, the man
Michelle was working with

is a Chinese national
named Wang Li.

Odds of this being real
seem remote,

but let's run it down anyway,

and yes, I know Wang Li

is the Chinese equivalent
of John Smith.

Have we heard from the lab?

Uh, yeah, no forensics
in the car or on the body.

- Suitcase?
- Still working on it.

Stay on it.
We need to find that van.

I want all available analysts
looking at traffic cams 24/7.

Yep. Oh, you wanna...

Um, I think I may have found
the Nigerian friend at JFK.

I did a rundown on
all Air China baggage handlers

that were scheduled
to work yesterday,

and all of them showed up,
except for one.

His name is Kevin Okoro.

He was T-boned on his way
to work by a City Tour Bus.

Is he okay?

He's in a medically-induced
coma,

but the doctors think
he'll survive.

What do we know about Okoro?

Not much. He's 31. No priors.

He went
to Nassau Community College

and he's got
a really great credit score.

758.

Okay, so if the inside man
is Nigerian,

we have to assume
the boss is too.

I want you to call the OC,

ask if there are
any Nigerian street gangs

operating in Brooklyn, Queens...

There is one.
Uh, the White Horses.

They run dr*gs out of Flatbush.

You have any sources
you can talk to?

Yeah, I have a... friend

that lives in that part of town.

Great.



- Mo!
- [laughs]

- Come on in.
- Thanks.

- Good to see you, man.
- Yeah, you too.

What's up?

Uh...

Well...

You okay?

Yeah. Yeah, no.

No, I'm good. How are you?

You solid?

You asking as my sponsor
or my friend?

Uh, well, both,

but if you're gonna
make me choose,

your sponsor, I guess.

[laughs]

I'm doing great, man. Yeah.

Good. I'm proud of you.

- 724 days sober, bro.
- Yep.

If it wasn't for you,
I wouldn't have made it, like,

724 minutes.

Stop it. It's all you.

[laughing] So what's up?

[groans] Yeah.

So I know

we said to keep our jobs
and our lives separate,

so I-I hesitate to even ask.

And yet, you've come

all the way down here
to my apartment,

so I'm guessing it's important.

It is.

Then I'm happy to help.

Great.

[clears throat]
Do you know this guy?

What, all Nigerians
know each other?

[laughs] I'm just...

I'm just playing, man.

Just playing.

Yeah, I, uh... I know him.

Yeah?

His name is Okoro.

I think he works at JFK.

He does.

Does he, uh,
work for anyone else

when he's not working at JFK?

[uneasy music]

Yes.

The White Horses.

H-he got involved with them
a few years back

when I was still in the...
In the drug game.



That's all I need to know.

Thanks for your help.

You're gonna make me look good
to my bosses.

I got you, man.

[laughs]

Okay. Got it. Thanks.

That was Jubal.
His friend just confirmed

that Mr. Okoro is affiliated
with the White Horses.

Excuse me.

We'd like to speak
to one of your patients,

Kevin Okoro.



He died.

An hour ago.

W... from his injuries?

Can I help you guys?

Yeah, we came in here
to check on Kevin Okoro.

- We just heard he passed.
- Yeah.

Somebody suffocated him.



All right, listen up,
Yankee fans.

Another case just landed
on the docket.

Victim's name is Kevin Okoro.

He was pronounced dead
at St. Ann's this afternoon

at 2:04 p.m.

NYPD believes he was suffocated.

Silver lining is Mr. Okoro
played for the White Horses.

Only evidence is
a nurse saw a black male

leaving Okoro's room shortly
before he was found dead,

and there, of course,
no video of the crime,

since camera's aren't allowed
in the patients' rooms,

so that means
we will have to get creative.

So let's activate
the right side of our brains

and get to work. That is all.

Thing about
these White Horses...

- Hmm?
- They sure play hardball.

Yeah, they must've caught wind

that we were investigating,

so they take out Okoro
to tie off the homicide case.

Mm.
But I mean, what is this about?

Is it about cocaine?
Is it about heroin?

No, it's worse.

Lab results just came back
on the suitcase.

Found traces of carfentanil.

100 times more toxic
than fentanyl,

10,000 times more toxic
than morphine.

China is a major supplier.

Based on the dimensions
of the hidden compartment

in Ryan Parker's luggage,

we're looking at a street value
of over $10 million.

Whoa.

They also found residue...
[phone buzzes]

Of pure fentanyl in the bag
as well.

I'm guessing that's
what Michelle was sneaking

into Ryan's suitcase
for the first few trips

before they upgraded
to the more potent stuff.

Hey, we just got a hit
on the BOLO.

NYPD found an abandoned van...

Same make, same model
of the van from the sh**ting.

Dent on the front bumper, too.

Call Maggie and OA for me.
Right away.



What's up?

My buddy, Juan.

We did a tour in Iraq together.
I told you about him.

- Yeah, yeah.
- He's struggling.

Seems a little lost.

What, dr*gs?

He's definitely partying
too much.

He just needs a new job,
find some focus.

Maybe you should talk to Jubal.

No, he's not an addict.

He's just having trouble
adjusting to the real world.

Hmm.

What?

Nothing. Look, if it were me,

I would talk to Jubal.

Hey. Bar owner across the street

called it in yesterday.

[dark music]



Yeah, there we go.

The van was definitely
wrapped in vinyl.

There's pieces left here
on the bottom.

I mean, come on.

You're gonna be a criminal,
at least be all-in.

You know what I mean?

Like, pay attention
to the details.

This is Agent Zidan.
Need an ERT down here

to do a sweep
of this abandoned van...

Prints, DNA.

Bar owner say anything else
to you?

He saw a black guy
parking his van here,

told him the spot was reserved.

Black guy flipped him off.

They got into it
for a few minutes,

then he ran off
and jumped into a yellow cab.

The cab was waiting for him?

He was driving it.



What time was this?

Around 2:00 a.m.

[cell phone chimes]

Okay. Thanks.



Can you drop me off
at the subway?

I just got another text.
I gotta check on Juan.

Uh, yeah.



[sighs] I'm sorry
to bring you into all this,

but I'm just in a jam.

My mom's cancer kicked up again.

Oh.



Um, I'm sorry to hear that...

She's okay, for now,

but she needs medicine.

Some sort of new chemo pill,

but her insurance got canceled
three months ago

'cause she got sick.
She had to stop working.

How can I help?

I hate to ask you again, but...

It's okay. Just name a number.

- Two grand?
- Yeah. You got it.

[gasps]
You're a good friend, Omar.



- Hey.
- Ah, hey.

So I've been trying
to pull video footage

of any yellow cabs

near the location
of the stolen van

around 2:00 a.m.,
but I struck out.

There are no cameras
in the area,

so I shifted gears
and I looked for yellow cabs

near St. Ann's around the time
Okoro was suffocated.

Found this.

Yeah, all right.



Can't really make out his face.

No, but I got a really good look

at his license plate.

- Oh, great.
- Oh, good.



- His name is...
- Morris Kalu.



That's my... My friend.



It doesn't make any sense.
Morris is a good man.

He's had his issues,
but he's worked very hard

to do better,
to... to move forward.

How exactly do you know
this man?

I'm his sponsor. He's an addict.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

I didn't know that.

Ah, it's okay. He's very open

about his recovery.

Was Morris ever part
of this g*ng, the White Horses?

Yeah, yes. When he was younger,

he sold dope on the streets
for a few years.

Then he got addicted
and he started stealing,

did some time.

I met him at a meeting

two years ago.

He was...

remorseful. He was honest.

We started talking.

Well, I became
his sponsor, so...

Is it possible
he started dealing again

for the White Horses?

Maybe...

[somber music]

But I doubt it.

I'm... I see him pretty regularly,

and, uh, there's no evidence

of any kind of illegal activity.

But if there was,

If there was,

then I screwed up.



I'll talk to him.

You'll talk to him as a suspect.

Yeah. Oh, yeah, as a suspect.



Right here is fine.

Yo, what's up?

You look upset.

I need to ask you
some questions,

and just so we're clear,

I'm asking you as an FBI agent,
not your sponsor.

Oh, okay.

Okay.

So...

Are you carrying a g*n?

I'm a cab driver
in New York City.

What you expect?
And you got a license for it.

No. I-I... no.

Really, Mo?

What are you thinking, man?



A nine-mil?

You're carrying a nine-mil.

Yo, man, what are you...

I need... I need to take you in

and ask you some more questions.

What I need you to do
is turn around,

put your hands behind your back.

- Yo, what are you talking...
- Mo.



Please.



Are you serious right now?

Sorry, man.



[sighs] Look, Morris,

if you're using again

and you got caught up
in something,

just lay it out for me
and I'll do what I can.

I'm not using.

Okay, good.

I need to tell me where you were

two nights ago at 11:00 p.m.

W-what's going on, man?

What do you think I've done?

I'm gonna cut
through all the cop crap.

I'm gonna come at you straight,

and I appreciate you
doing the same.

[sighs]

Are you working
for the White Horses again?

Are the involved
in the smuggling operation,

the murders?
What are you talking about?

We have video

of someone who looks like you

near St. Ann's hospital

minutes after Okoro was k*lled.

O-Okoro? St. Ann's?

Yeah.

I haven't been
in that part of town in months.

Okay.

[uneasy music]

Is that your cab?

Yeah.

That's mine, and I worked
my ass off

to buy that cab, too,
but I did it...

By working hard,
not by moving dr*gs.

Are you positive?

Did you look
at the license plate number?



Yes, I'm positive!

Then where were you
two nights ago at 11:00 p.m.?

At home.

Can anyone verify that?

No. I was alone,

and why do you keep asking
about two nights ago?

Two men were k*lled...

A diplomat and his driver...

And they were shot
with nine-millimeters,

and there is evidence to suggest

the k*ller was using
a yellow cab, and this...



Is you,

a block from St. Ann's,
getting into your cab.



No, no. That... that's not me.



That's my cab,
but that's not me, okay?

What do you mean?

No, that... that's the guy
I rent to sometimes.



Uh, does this guy have a name?

Trevor Jabari.

Trevor Jabari?

That's the man

who's getting into your cab?

Yes.

I rent to him
five times a month.

[suspenseful music]

See, he writes me a check.

I-I-I can... I can show you.



Okay, good.



I believe you.



Trevor Jabari, known member
of the White Horses

and part-time
New York cab driver,

is now our prime suspect.

We believe he was the man
driving the van

the night of the two murders

and the man exiting the hospital

shortly after Okoro's death.

That's three kills, people.

Puts him in
the m*rder*r Hall of Fame.

- Look into that.
- Let's find this pond scum,

and fast.

- Hey.
- Yeah.

So we checked
Jabari's last known.

His landlord says
he hasn't been there in months.

Okay. What about his financials?

Well, he's been making
ATM withdrawals

over the last couple of months

at a place called
Platinum Media, LLC,

doing business as "Nirvana,"

which is a nightclub
in Brooklyn.

And here's why Jabari
was here all the time.

I found social media photos
of him

and a woman
named Chantelle King.

Single mom,
five-year-old daughter,

and a cocktail waitress
at Nirvana.

Yeah, quick, call Maggie and OA.

Get 'em over there now.
Copy that.

Thanks.

Trevor Jabari?

Don't know no one by that name.

That's a bad answer, Chantelle.

We know that you have
a young daughter,

so I'm assuming
you don't want to go to prison.

[percussive music over speakers]

Okay, I know Trevor.

We... hang out sometimes.
[phone vibrates]

Why? What's up?

We need to know
where he's staying these days.

Don't know.



Hey.

Hey, it's me.

I just ran Jabari's financials.

He made a $300 withdrawal
at Nirvana

ten seconds ago. He's there.

Send backup right away.

Copy that.

Wow, Chantelle.

You're a really bad listener.

- What are you talking about?
- We know that he's here.

Why don't you take us
to him right now?



He's in the VIP room.

Well, why don't you show us
where that is?




Maroon shirt, black jacket.



On the couch.

Trevor.

FBI.

Don't move! Don't... move.

- [grunts]
- [yells]

Move!

[yells]

- Hey!
- I'm splitting!

[dramatic music]



Stop resisting!

Oh, he's got a g*n.



Hey!

Drop the w*apon!



We're sorry about your friend.

It was self-defense.
He didn't g...

Which one of you shot him?

That... that's not relevant
to the conversation.

But like my partner said,

we really are sorry
for your loss.

So it was you.

[uneasy music]

All right, look, Chantelle,

either you're gonna tell us
everything you know

about Jabari's drug operation...

Who he worked for,
where he hung out...

Or we're gonna charge you
with felony obstruction.



What do you want to know?

For starters... [phone vibrates]



You good?

I gotta go.



[mournful music]

- [crying]
- Hey.

What the hell's going on?

Christina found him
on the floor, unconscious.

Unconscious?
What, like he passed out?

No. He OD'd.

He OD'd?

On what? Coke?

No, this new crap. Carfentanil.



[laughs weakly] [sniffs]

Is he gonna make it?

Don't know.

Doctors say they're doing
their best.

I was... I was just with him.

He asked me for some cash.

He said his mom needed
to buy some medicine, so...

I gave him $2,000.

He was playing you, Omar.



He's an addict.



I just talked to ballistics.

The g*n you found on Jabari
is the same w*apon

used to k*ll Ryan Parker
and his driver.

Great.
Looks like we got our man.

Uh, we got the sh**t.
I'm not so sure about the man.

From what Chantelle told us,

Jabari was taking his orders
from this guy named Tayo.

He's the one
who calls all the sh*ts

and is overseeing
the entire drug operation

from top to bottom.

Well, his dr*gs are starting
to wreak havoc.

In the past 24 hours,

there have been
nine fatal overdoses,

all of them related
to this carfentanil crap.

We need to find this stuff fast.

Yeah, well, the good news is
we know where it is.

According to Chantelle,
Tayo's sitting on the dr*gs

at a warehouse
on Frederick Street.

Let's hit it now.

Based on what?

We don't have enough evidence
to get a warrant.

So let's go back
to your friend Morris

and put him in play.

Uh, no. He hasn't been

in the g*ng for years.

There's no way
he'd be interested

in something like that.

Interesting? I wasn't planning

on sending an invitation.

We popped him for carrying
an unlicensed firearm.

That's three years, minimum.

Okay, well,
I'm not gonna jam him up

over the g*n, all right?
We'll find another way.

With all due respect,

that's not our problem.

[tense music]

I'm just telling you
like it is, Jubal.

We catch a guy dirty,
he has a choice.

He either cooperates
or he does time.

That's how we do business.

That's how we get bad guys
off the street.

And I appreciate the lesson.
Thanks.

Am I wrong?

Delivery's a little harsh,

but no, you're not wrong.

Morris is the only way
into that community.

He knows the players
and the streets.



Jubal, we just need
one more piece of evidence

tying Tayo to the smuggling
and the homicides.

Then we can get a warrant
and we'll take that route.



I get it. I get it.

I think we can find another way.

My relationship with Morris
is complicated.

I've got a duty
to look out for him.

You also have a duty

to protect the people
of this city

and get these lethal dr*gs
off the street,

and to arrest the man
who ordered

these three murders.

Right now, Morris is an asset.

He can't be ignored.

[melancholy music]

[exhales heavily]



Okay, I'll talk to him.



You... you want me
to wear a wire

a-and talk to Tayo?

I know it's a big ask,

but, uh, the truth is

that the other alternative
is a lot worse.

Excuse me?

The g*n that we found...

W-wait, you're gonna
jam me up over that g*n?

[somber music]

- For real?
- I'm sorry, Mo.

I'm... I'm...
I'm just being honest.

You can work with us,

and you'll get a pass
on the g*n, or... or...

you're gonna be charged
with possession

of an unlicensed handgun,

and you're probably
gonna serve some time.

- Wait...
- I will support you

no matter what you decide,
but in my opinion,

staying out of prison
is the better choice here.

I'm not sure about that.

Well, it's real hard
to stay sober in prison.

It's not a great support system.

Yeah, well, my support system
on the outside

not so great, either.



You're right,

but we are where we are,

and there's nothing
I can do about it.



You hear me?

Loud and clear.

[suspenseful music]

Okay, Jubal, we're good to go.

Got live audio and video.

Copy that.



Just do your thing.

We're right outside
if things go bad.

We'll come pull you out.
Just say the word.

I know. Easter.



Let's do this.



What you need?

Uh, l-looking for Tayo.

Tell him Morris
has something important

to tell him.

Why don't you tell me
what he needs to know?

Uh, it's sensitive.
For his ears only.

Take a walk, bro.
I ain't got time

for your games.

We will be there in 30 seconds

if things start to go south.

- Yeah.
- You want to be

the go-between?
That... that's cool with me.

He's gonna do fine.
He knows the game.

I'm not so sure about that.
He's a different guy now.

He sees things differently.

Doesn't mean he can't fake it,

persuade Tayo to start talking.

Just tell him I got
some information.

The FBI's been asking
about him and Jabari.

But trust me, Tayo knows me
from back in the day.



Dude named Morris is here.

Says he's been talking
to the FBI.



- Okay, he's in.
- Yeah.

Now the only visual we have
is the body cam.



You know what? Give me the keys.

- Wait, what?
- Why? What are you doing?

I want to move the van closer.

No, we cannot risk moving.

Hey, last time I checked,
I'm in charge.



Jubal, we have no idea

how many eyes are on the street.

I don't think we should make
any sudden movements.



[sighs] Yeah.



This fool says he knows you.



He does.



What's up, homie?

All good.

Yeah, I don't mean
to bother you.

I'm just here to relay
some information.

Hmm.

FBI's been asking
about me and Jabari.

Yeah, yeah, uh,

they came to me 'cause Jabari...
He rents my cab,

but they also asked about you.

Asked if I knew you,
if I ever seen you two talking,

so...

So yeah.

What did you tell them?

[laughs] Nothing.

I know the drill.



Why did you lie?



What's your take?



I thought maybe...



[laughs]

Yes, that's no problem.



I appreciate you looking out.



Where are you going?

Why not get high right here?



What... what you mean?

If you came all the way here
for that,

why not take a bump?
You gotta be kidding me.

I gotta pull him out.

Well, no, hold on.
Let's just wait a second.

Now.

Um, I'm saving it for later.

Me and my girl... we're g...
We're gonna share it.

- Later.
- Yeah.

Ain't no such thing as later
when you're an addict.

Did you pat this fool down?

He ain't got no strap.

- C-come on, man.
- I ain't worried about no g*n.

Why y'all...
Why y'all doing this?

Easter's right
around the corner, man.

He's been burned.
Call it in now!

All units move in. I repeat,

all units move in.

[dramatic music]

[dramatic music]



They bailed.

Where the hell'd they go?

And why'd they take Morris?

To find out what he knows

and dump him.

[quiet music]



Hey, guys, head back that way.



[suspenseful music]



I got him. There he is.

FBI! Stop!



Oof.

Oh! [Groans]

Don't move! Freeze!

- FBI!
- We got this.

- Get in the car.
- FBI!

Drop the g*n! Don't move!

Back off, now,
or I'll sh**t him.

Put the w*apon on the ground
right now.

It's over.

We are driving out of here,

or I'll sh**t him right now.
It's your choice.

You're not leaving with him.
It's not gonna happen,

so put your g*n down,
or I will sh**t you.

Oh, take the shot!
He's gonna k*ll me!

Shut up!
I'm not saying it again.

[groans, sputters]

I got you. I got you.



You good?

Yeah, yeah.



I got you, Mo.

I got you.

[somber music]



- Um...
- Hey,

before you say anything...

uh, I just want to say
I'm... I'm really sorry

about your friend Juan.

Maggie just told me
that he passed away.



I had no idea.



[weakly] Thanks. Um...

I was in over my head.

I didn't even know
that he was an addict.



Well, it can be
pretty hard to spot,

unless you've lived
with the disease yourself.



Um... how's Morris?

He's good.

Yeah, he's... he's strong.

- He did great.
- Yeah.

It's not an easy position
to be in,

especially as an ex-addict.



Well, there's no such thing,
really.

All it takes is one bad day.



Anyway, have a good night.

Yeah.



May I come in?

Uh...

So I... I came by to say...

well, I wish
I was a better sponsor.

I am truly sorry.

Now,

do you have what Tayo gave you?

[somber music]



Come on, Mo.

[raggedly] Yes.

[sniffs]

There you go.

[sniffs]

Come on.



And just the one baggie?



Yeah, it's okay.

It's just a slip, not a leap.

Okay?



[sniffs]



So what now?

There is a meeting
two blocks from here,

and it starts
in a half an hour...



And we are going to go together.



You and me.