Blindspot

Cream team! Ah-ah-ah.

I suggest you not shoot us.

These little babies on our wrists,

they read our biorhythms.

They don't like what they read,

they pin your location to every law enforcement agency

in Europe.

Where are the Gardner paintings that I was promised?

And why haven't they been delivered yet?

Because I don't have them.

Well, then I'm guessing

you're going to have to go find them, yeah?

No. Absolutely not.

Excuse me?

Kurt's just kidding around.

You know, he's a bit of a joke maker.

It's opposite day is what it is.

Remember summer camp?

Tomorrow we're having a whole pajama jamma-jam thing...

Drop your weapons...

now.

We had a deal.

Yeah, we sure dead.

In exchange for the paintings, you promised us protection,

including untraceable burner phones.

Thanks to your very traceable phones...

we were located, droned...

And we lost one of our best.

So we don't owe you anything.

Hey, guys, I'm totally on board

with this whole line of thinking,

but they still have their guns and...

I don't know, you haven't seen Ice Cream

in one of his moods.

Hey...

This is not a mood.

Hey, Annie Oakley, enough with the gun show.

We live here.

It wasn't like this in Iceland.

I wasn't in debt in Iceland.

Who'd you promise the paintings to?

Ilya Mikhaylov.

Oh, boy.

You know him?

Yeah, he's a Russian mob enforcer.

Basically it's like if Andre the Giant

and Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson had a baby,

and that baby was fed nothing but a steady diet

of Muscle Milk and Slim Jims.

If I don't deliver the Gardner paintings to Ilya,

he'll cut my eyes out.

We're not helping you. Then I burn you!

I burn your little bunker.

Go for it.

I'll give Madeline Burke your exact location.

Then we move. Pull up stakes. Done it before.

How about we make a little trade?

What do you say, Cream Boat?

Okay...

How about this for a carrot? I have intel... on Madeline.

Like hell you do.

How would you like ears on her daily communication?

Anyone ever heard of Beaconer?

The app? It's like iMessage

for spies and journalists.

Totally encrypted, super secure.

Is this the part where you tell us

that you know how to hack a completely unhackable app?

No, no, no, this is the part where I tell you that...

I created Beaconer.

And I left myself a back door that only I have access to.

Beaconer is yours?

Before you get his autograph, make him prove it.

What coding language did you use?

How did said language allow you

to maximize Beaconer's security?

I'm not giving you my security secrets.

Then how do we know that Madeline uses Beaconer?

How else would I know that she's in almost

daily communication with one Ivy Sands?

Regular communication between Madeline

and a Dabbur Zann terrorist...

...would be a total game changer.

Great, so you go get me my Gardner paintings,

and I give you a smoking gun.

Deal?

Are we really doing this?

Apparently we are. That's why they got

these GPS monitors on us like we're migrating whales...

wolves, migrating wolves.

He thinks we're gonna bail. It makes sense.

This is the only thing that makes sense.

The rest of this stuff's crazy.

Oh, yeah, which part? Actually believing Fro-Yo

has ears on Madeline's chatter?

Going out in public again as wanted fugitives?

Or attempting to find and steal

priceless works of art at the behest

of an Icelandic maniac?

Me, I pick "D." All of the above.

You got a better option?

Tell him to go to hell.

And then what?

We need this intel on Madeline.

Do we, though? I mean, thanks

to that recording we have

of Weller's bondage "sesh" with Ivy,

we have that phone number that we're tracking. Sorry.

Well, we assume that Ivy was calling a phone number.

But it makes more sense that she was inputting

the 11-digit passcode for her Beaconer account.

Look, I hate to admit it, but we need Ice Cream's help.

And this could be the thing,

the thing that takes Madeline down for good.

Cream team! Let's do this!

You rang?

Matthew, what a pleasure.

It's Director Weitz.

Were you just, um, sitting there

facing the wall waiting for me to come in

so you could spin around like that?

I like to maintain the element of surprise.

Where is Madeline?

Ms. Burke had some business to attend to in D.C.

And since I've been appointed to her review board,

I thought I'd check in,

make sure you're keeping your promises.

I never promised you anything.

Susan Shah...

You might not be aware of it. There was an incident.

That name ring a bell?

You promised you'd handle our do-gooder

national security advisor.

Or maybe you'd like to pay a visit to Briana?

No, no, no!

Yeah, oh, that promise.

I didn't know we were talking about, um, specific...

You have 24 hours to have Shah removed

from the short list for the vice presidency, or...

Oh, Studebaker! Oh.

Listen to me, I-I can do what I can,

but you know that there is nothing on her.

She is spotless.

Dirty her up then.

Wait, wait, wait, just lie?

24 hours... Director.

All right, so we know who doesn't have the paintings.

"Buy Buy Baby"?

No, I'm looking up stuff for Zapata.

You know that kid's about the size

of a raspberry right now, right?

I mean, it's gonna be a long time

before they need...

Toilet seat locks, those are a thing?

We don't need to install them right away.

Anyway, as I was saying,

Ilya obviously doesn't have the paintings.

You're going to find them by process of elimination?

No, no, I... I'm reviewing the facts.

Okay, fact one...

the paintings were stolen

from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum

March 18, 1990.

Okay, take it easy.

We don't need to start from the very beginning.

Fact number two... Or just ignore me.

That's totally fine, too. ...this very FBI team

tracked the paintings to a Columbia professor's house...

and stole them back.

Hey, there was a great Zabar's in that neighborhood,

remember that? Rich, focus!

I mean, I would kill for a knish.

Excuse me, I think you're just a little testy

because, fact number three, a certain Turkish dumpling

and his salty little sidekick that he occasionally sleeps with

duped the FBI and stole them back.

Oh, my God, that was exhilarating!

You got 'em?

Oh, no, the paintings. Yes, I have them.

Not their finest hour.

Okay, so that's great, Rich. What did you do with them?

Boston sold them and then stole them right back.

Well, that's genius.

Why sell once what you can sell twice?

Okay, so who has the paintings now?

Moe Lewis. The casino magnate.

Boston figured out a mathematical flaw

in one of his keno lounges,

and as a gift, he gave the paintings to Moe

in exchange for not having his kneecaps broken.

So... Moe Lewis has them.

Gonna say Moe had 'em.

Moe got robbed about three months ago.

Oh, my God. Seriously? By Boston?

No, no, Boston doesn't have them, I'm sure of that.

Great, so we know absolutely nothing.

I got a theory.

Moe assumed that his ex ripped him off.

They were going through a hellish divorce.

Prenup, people.