caption by peritta - Synced and corrected by chamallow - www.addic7ed.com -
Ah, closing soon I see.
Would you bring me a bottle of Michter
and, uh, two glasses, a pitcher of water,
and charge that to suite 1122.
Oh, Jesus.
- How'd you do that? - Habit.
I've gotten into a lot of places I shouldn't have
by drifting in behind room service waiters and hookers.
Well, you ought to write a book.
I couldn't publish it until after I was dead, sir.
And why's that?
Too many people who want me killed or in prison.
Oh, the same as, uh, Lucky Luciano.
Yeah.
Yeah, he warned the authors of his biography
not to publish it for 10 years
till after his enemies were dead.
I know the feeling. I wish I could have met him.
- Oh, my father knew him a little bit. - Yeah?
He was in Naval Intelligence
during the, uh, second World War.
He was part of the team that approached Luciano
in prison through Meyer Lansky.
They needed help with spies on the New York waterfront.
The mob owned the docks, and Luciano owned the mob.
Did it work?
A month after that meeting at Great Meadow Prison,
all the sabotage and the bombing stopped.
They let Lucky out of prison a year after the war ended.
He was a war hero.
Well, it was deep politics.
Rougher deals have been made
between the crime bosses and the Mafia.
Deals that have wrought death, civil war, uncivil war.
It's all just politics.
Crime bosses?
Mm-hmm. Politicians.
Including you?
Oh, you know better than me
all the shit that I have pulled with your help over the years.
There's a lot of dirt under these fingernails.
I don't see it that way.
Well, you only say that 'cause we're prey
to like-minded primal instincts.
We share a sinfully low inventory of moral conscience
or respect for consequence.
We forgive ourselves before we even sin
and we call it "necessary,"
"expedient," "for the greater good."
I didn't have to do the things that you asked of me, sir.
Your hands are clean.
I can't agree, my friend.
There's a lot of blood and bad things under my bridge,
- and for what? - For the good of the country.
Well, you can't destroy a village by trying to save it.
And our crimes didn't change much, just our station.
Bad deeds get easier the more times you get away with them.
Well, that is true.
That's what I tell myself.
That's how I sleep.
You seem off, Federico.
- Hard week, sir. - It was, it was.
Were you able to confirm some of the details I set you on?
Yes.
Do I have enough to confront Faulkner?
You're gonna have to go zone instead of man-to-man.
What do you mean?
I mean, you have an ally in this
that you are not aware of.
What are you talkin' about?
Too many pieces not fitting.
Well, didn't you press your contact down here?
- I pressed him hard. - Hard enough?
Well, he's dead, so yes.
If a gun in your mouth doesn't work...
I don't want to hear this. I don't want to hear this!
No, no, you have to know that I did my job,
and I terminated the compromise.
He could have compromised this?
- Yes. - How?
He knew everything.
He saw Angela Mancarlo go into Faulkner's suite.
If he talked, Faulkner would have been ruined
and of no use to you.
He's only good for me if he remains in the Senate,
not the White House.
So, he's guilty, then.
Well, Faulkner was with Angela Mancarlo that night.
I'm sure of this.
She was up on the sixth floor,
they had a history... it makes sense.
Of his own volition?
No. What?
Y... you're not making sense, Federico.
It's like I said, Senator...
I think someone else set this up.
Someone in the campaign got to her,
gave her the key to Faulkner's suite, and then called 911.
They were hoping that it would blow that night.
But Faulkner, he has a great team.
They played it great.
The smokescreen is still working.
- Houserman? - He's a pimp.
Now, why do you say that?
Because he deals with whores.
So, how do I press him tomorrow?
What do I say that'll bear fruit?
Three "Knowns" and two "Maybes."
I don't understand.
When you interrogate someone
and you want them to believe that you have a solid case,
you tell them three things that you know
about the crime that are also known to them.
And then you add two "Maybes"...
things that could be true, things that could make sense.
And this makes them think you've got him cold.
Example.
The money that you pay me
comes illegally from your campaign war chest.
That is a known.
Your aide Jeremy Oster keeps records of the payments,
and he's giving them to the Grand Jury today.
That is the maybe.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Believe me.
It works.
You okay?
Senator?
Federico...
You okay?
Hey, uh... you, call 911, please!
Call 911!
Senator? Senator?
I understand.
Yes, I said that to her.
No.
I gave her plenty to write about.
Yes. I promise.
Just so you know, that goon Sturgis
has been hanging around again.
Yeah, it's fine.
I sleep next to it every night.
Tomorrow night after the polls close.
Okay. Yeah.
See you then.
Well, thank you very much.
It must be the heat down here.
That's why I ran for the Senate...
to get out of that dad-gum southern heat.
You okay, Senator?
This happens a couple of times a year...
hot weather, too much booze.
Wrong line of work for a guy with a bad heart.
My heart's always been in the right place.
I'm just... it's...
This is my last term.
I'm not seeking re-election in '18.
What? Really?
Yes, uh, don't leak that.
I have to find a suitable replacement.
I can't turn my seat over to some liberal ya-hoo.
There aren't that many of us conservative democrats left,
you know.
What the fuck do I do?
What do you mean?
What do I mean?
All the shit that I've pulled for you,
all the people that are no more,
and you're just gonna cut bait?
Well, our work is done.
Done? Done?
What the fuck did we accomplish?
Nothing's changed. W... what did any of this mean?
Well, that's what the Romans asked themselves
after 851 years of empire.
"What did it all of this fucking mean?"
Honestly, I cannot tell you what it has all meant,
nor where it was intended to lead us to.
It was business,
criminal checks and balances.
What's the bad blood with you and Faulkner?
I mean, I got no use for him, but hating...
it doesn't seem like your style, Senator.
I always considered public service to be a calling,
like the priesthood or teaching.
A majority of the men and women in Congress
now consider it a dodge,
some kind of ego-driven high-school talent show.
Yeah?
Nobody remembers because no one reads anymore
that the founding fathers fought like drunks in a whorehouse
while creating this republic.
And a good number of them hated each other...
Adams and Jefferson...
But do you know what they all had in a common purpose?
What?
The greater good of the country.
Their passions were not born of self-interest.
They were born of a feral zeal
to do what was right for the United States.
They understood the historical mandate,
the reverent importance of what they were creating.
Kind of makes me feel like... I don't know...
like a traitor for the things that I've done.
Were your instincts to better the country?
Sometimes, not always.
Sometimes it was just for the money.
Sometimes it was for the glory.
Sometimes it was just for that seductive feeling
that comes with getting away with murder.
Do you need absolution?
Maybe I need a wife.
Who told you that?
No one. Some guy I used to know.
Federico, you have served a purpose...
to me and to the country.
This is not late 18th-century America anymore.
The stakes are too high.
It's too dangerous not to get a little blood on your hands
from time to time.
And Faulkner?
Well, Faulkner...
he came in with a good heart.
He's a straight arrow
who had a vision to serve his fellow man,
and to legislate of, by, and for the people.
- Really? - Yes, sir.
He was a golden boy from the heartland.
He was sinless and clean.
Is that a good idea, Isaac?
Well, we all got to go sometime,
and I'm not going gently.
Ahh.
I am not proud, you understand?
But I am owning my sins.
Okay, what if this hadn't fallen into our laps
and you had to watch him get elected president?
Well, what's your back-up plan?
A tall building with good vantage,
maybe a drone with Ricin,
maybe a staged suicide.
I would have left all that up to you.
It's more fun than sex extortion.
Federico, you are a piece of work.
I joined the army when I was 17.
I always believed that military service
is how you earned your citizenship.
I sponsored a bill to that effect in 1981.
What happened?
People want to be free, but they don't want to bleed.
I had a good aim and a high tolerance for guilt.
Had no father growing up.
Authority is my Achilles' heel.
Ah.
When Marine Corps Intelligence called, I answered.
Well, that's a good group.
Ah, too good. They tossed me out.
It's hard for me to work inside the box.
What else could you do?
Nothing.
I'm trapped in the version of the life I'm living.
Well, aren't we all?
What about all that bullshit about free will?
Free will is pricey.
Look...
if what you say about Faulkner being set up is true,
what's to stop him from telling me to go fuck myself?
Proof.
Proof? What's that anymore?
I could leak a story that Bigfoot fucked my Airedale
and made me dinner,
and I'd have a book deal by lunch.
But you're talking about the woman.
Yes.
You know where she is.
She lives in a boat in the marina
with some roided-out guido
about a five-minute drive from here, sir.
Well... you and I...
we'll just have to go see her.
Okay.
I have to make him afraid so that he will...
he will drop out of this race...
afraid of the shame that it would bring.
Because he'd shame his family?
No, a man who chases whores
isn't afraid of shaming his family.
Is that a failure of judgment?
It's a failure of faith and of character.
No... Faulkner's significant fear is of losing his aura.
That patina of greatness that the public holds him in
would irreparably corrode,
and that is what he's afraid of losing.
He'd almost rather admit to the affair,
to prove that his character's above reproach.
Oh, I know him.
I know that his corrosive pride
wants to just say it out loud
to excise it from his conscience.
If I can lead him, I can be the first to shovel dirt
on this abortion of a campaign.
Morning, Rick.
What's all this?
My job, Mr. Houserman...
call logs and surveillance photos from that night.
Oh, good. Great.
You packed?
Checking out this morning.
Clear on logistics?
Your team sent over the details.
After the polls close and the booze is drunk,
we all fly to Washington.
Sorry to see you go, Rick.
Sorry we won't be together to see this through.
I hate to leave the Senator's detail.
It's for the best.
Transferring back to Foreign Dignitary Protection.
Protecting King Gobbledygook from East Asshole
won't be as cool as a White House assignment.
What's the matter with you?
I'm not interested in being around you people anymore.
And what if you get called?
It would take an executive order
for me to break my confidential privilege,
and it looks like he's going to be the next president,
so... I think you're safe.
Yeah.
Well, I'm sorry about all this.
I miss you. I... I mean it.
You've done a great job for the Senator and this campaign.
No one came in or out of that hotel that night
that we could not account for or identify...
... except for Miss Mancarlo.
Why the continued investigation?
The 911 call... it's a problem.
Hmm. How so?
Because whoever made that call is behind all this,
behind the photos, behind the extortion,
and if they miss their mark this time,
they may decide to escalate the threat.
They didn't pick up the money we dropped.
They didn't want money, they wanted to make noise.
They wanted Faulkner to drop out.
- Yeah, but he didn't. - No.
That 911 call was made from a drop phone...
one of those $40 one-time specials
you can pick up at a gas station or a Walmart.
That's why it took me so long to track down the number.
Mm.
But Miami-Dade PD records all 911 calls.
I heard the voice, but I couldn't identify it.
Male or female?
I said I couldn't identify it.
But you have the number?
Yes. And?
And I'm going to keep calling it
until someone in this campaign picks up and says "Hello."
And then what?
And then I'll make an arrest.
Nah, I'm just gonna be here for the night.
I'm meetin' with Faulkner after the polls close.
Well, he was over in Austin.
I guess he was getting a...
a last-minute photo-op with Bevo.
Yes. Oh, I'm sure it's gonna work.
Impulsive men cannot resist a goody bag,
and my my offer was very rich.
Okay, I'll see you at, uh, Reagan at 8:00.
Hey.
Let's go have breakfast.
No, I... I'm gonna go.
Federico, I may not see you again.
This is my last waltz.
Maybe that's a good thing, Senator.
I'm gonna miss working with you.
There is no one as good at gathering Intel
or covertly solving problems than you.
Yeah, well...
Ah, come on. What are you wondering?
W... what's going on?
Yesterday... is weighing heavy.
The last 10 years are weighing heavy.
You're going through what the Greeks called suneidesis.
This is when the soul wrestles,
trying to distinguish what is morally good and bad,
commending one and condemning the other.
I call it an all-fucked-up moment of truth.
I've killed, I've kidnapped, and I've tortured for you,
here and abroad, so that you could get
what you needed politically to stay in power
or to dictate policy, and I'm fucking tired!
Shh.
What we have done is in the best interest of the country.
All the blood and the lies and the treachery...
nothing's changed.
It's like treading water in a toilet.
I'm...
I'm sick... I'm sick of it.
It's a little late for this "Come to Jesus" moment.
Just hearing the joy in your voice
as you planned to ruin another man's life, it...
Yesterday I murdered a man...
a friend, in fact...
and for what?
So that you could go down swinging before you retire?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
What the fuck is wrong with you and all the rest of you?
Am I gonna be safe with you?
Safe from me? S... safe from me?
You don't get it, do you, you paranoid son of a bitch?
This... this is my confession.
And a man doesn't stain his confession
by adding to his sins.
You'll never see me again,
and if you hear a bump in your night,
it won't be me.
But it will be somebody.
You need to forgive yourself.
The little scenario earlier,
where your aide takes the goods to take to the Grand Jury...
... that wasn't make-believe.
If you ever call me again...
You have to trust me.
You're just telling me this now?
Dellahunt is here?
Yes, in the hotel.
Why?
He's here to confront the senator.
Oh, my God. You knew he was coming?
I did.
Damon...
There's no smoking gun.
The media have dropped us.
I'm not worried. Neither should you be.
Is this why D'Andres is leaving us?
Yeah, what can I say? He's a moral guy.
What does that say about us?
Do you even hear yourself speaking?
Can I have a coffee, please?
It says that he dumped a two-term gig
at the White House.
Politics is a full-contact sport.
Makes me sick. The whole thing makes me sick.
Why didn't I stop this from happening when I had the chance?
What do you mean?
I should have buried Davis in order to save his life.
Madeline.
Madeline, listen... Just listen to me, okay?
In 10 hours, 7 states and millions of voters
are going to make history.
It may have been a tough ride, the primaries always are,
but your husband is on the vanguard
of sweeping and great change for our country.
You're fucking despicable.
What's this?
My guest list for the victory party.
You're inviting those nuns from the Christic House?
Anything to sanctify this campaign.
Tell them it's a cash bar.
Thank you.
caption by peritta - Synced and corrected by chamallow - www.addic7ed.com -