Rabbit Hole

- Great job, everybody. - Thank you for this.

Until the next one. Tom's coming up.

To Tom.

To Tom. - Who's Tom?

You're gonna love him.

He keeps going on about

this guy named Crowley

and some new world order that's set up

to hijack governments and take over the world.

I mean, real Manchurian Candidate shit.

I can get a location on Weir.

Shit, he's rerouting again.

- He's downloading comm data. - Cut him off!

Okay. Got it. We're leaving in five.

The plan didn't go as we'd hoped, sir.

If there's some secret explanation

as to why your friend turned, it's not in here.

What about the phone call?

300 calls went

through the main switchboard

in that time frame.

And short of calling them all manually,

I don't know what else we can do.

It's a simple play. Super simple.

Agent Jo Madi, FBI.

Six figures for a bottle of booze

might seem a bit stiff,

but this is unicorn dram.

Remember how I told you I worked

for a developer in Chicago?

Well, I left out the part

where I stole money from him.

- How much? - $26 million as of Friday.

- Is he gonna be okay?

What the fuck are you doing?

Don't know who the fuck you are.

Crowley.

Oh, shit.

It's all about control, sheeple.

He is so far ahead of us.

We need to change the plan.

We need more people. We need to bring my team back in.

Uh, I've met most of Weir's people.

I can help you ID.

Team? What team?

- The ones who blew up? - Yeah.

What'd he say?

Not much. Classic.

Just that it's about Tom.

Thanks, guys, for getting here on such short notice.

So, who, exactly, is Tom?

Well, Tom is not a who. Tom is a what.

Tom is an op, a dropout.

You need us to disappear again?

How long? How deep?

Deep. Fake deaths. New identities.

- And I need it all in a week. - Really?

- I'm afraid so. Fuck.

Look, I know what a huge ask this is, okay?

But I need you to trust me.

Why not let us help?

Because the guy I'm going after this time

is really dangerous.

If this goes south,

he won't just take you out.

He'll take out everyone you care about.

Just signed a new lease.

Every time I find a new fuck buddy,

- something like this happens. - I just filled my wine fridge.

All of those wonderful-sounding things

you would not be able to enjoy if you were dead.

So, what's the plan?

Since the clock's ticking, I want to keep it simple.

An office explosion made to look like a gas leak.

Like that one we used to freak out that guy Goldman.

Exactly.

What about the intern? Shouldn't he be here?

- I think he's a plant. - What the fuck? Kyle's a plant?

- For who? Not sure yet. Maybe Madi.

Maybe the person that I'm worried about right now.

Either way, Kyle can't know about this,

but we can still use him.

Locked out, he'll make a perfect witness for the police.

Okay, so we send the task rat on an errand.

Pick up dinner somewhere far away.

He shows up to fire trucks and news vans.

Yeah.

I'll show up right before the explosion

so that the security cameras can capture my shock and horror

for anyone else who's watching.

Mm, the cops.

Cops or anyone else.

Here are some broad outlines

and the paperwork for the new identities.

Why'd you let us spitball if you've already got

this whole thing figured out?

Because he's controlling, manipulative, anal...

"Detail oriented" is the term I prefer, but thank you.

You're welcome.

We should kill that Kyle kid.

Well, there's a surprise.

You do know that the Cold War's over, right?

He could be working for Crowley.

And he might just be an innocent FBI informant.

Yeah. And when in doubt...

You're getting too soft, Johnathan.

No good deed goes unpunished.

You know, I don't care how nostalgic you are

for the good old days of Noriega and Pinochet;

no unnecessary killing.

That's a second dig at my age.

You don't think I can handle him, do you? That's it.

- My plan, my rules. - Very well.

We've been preparing for this for a long time, Johnathan,

but, you know, sometimes reality turns out

to be quite different.

Are you sure you're ready?

I am.

And I quote you.

"As long as we stick to the plan,

everything will be fine."

You have reached

Arda Analytics Human Resources.

No one is in the office right now,

but if you leave your name and...

Famous Jay's Pizza. Hello?

This extension... -

This is Key's Auto Insurance...

You've reached the office of Dr. Smith...

[indistinct voices overlapping, echoing]

Knock, knock. - Yeah.

So, Homm wanted me to come get you, but...

- - ...first, I... I wanted to say

I'm sorry about yesterday.

I... I probably should have told you about...

What? Stealing $26 million?

Yeah, you probably should have told me.

You have reached a number

that has been disconnected

or no longer in service.

Are you calling every one of those numbers?

I'm doing everything I can to figure out why Crowley

is three steps ahead of us.

Reached out to my team.

It might take 'em a little while to make contact.

In the meantime, I'm running through these numbers

trying to figure out who the last person was

to talk to Valence.

I know my dad doesn't think it's part of the plan...

Weir, Weir, Weir, Weir. It's okay.

It's okay. Relax.

You do not have to sell me on this.

Isn't it possible that this is more about

you losing your friend?

Trying to make sense of that?

In my world, that's a big deal.

So, if you wanted to talk about it,

you could talk to me.

For those of us who lie for a living,

our only connection to reality are the people

who really, really know us.

And for me, that was Valence, and only Valence.

So when we agreed to cut off all communications to do this,

I lost that.

And it's affected me.

No, I... I get it.

Growing up without a real home,

you look for it in other people.

And for you, Miles was home.

I-I know we haven't known each other for very long,

but I haven't had anyone like that in my life

for a long time, either.

Someone you can just be real with, you know?

Chicago, the money. I...

I'm actually glad that

I don't have to keep that secret anymore,

especially from you.

So, you know, I thought since I'm good with

you knowing that about me...

So you're saying I should just trust you now?

That's usually how it works, yeah.

Honestly, I don't know how anybody trusts anybody,

given all you've got to go on is someone else's word.

How about you try

to trust me just, I don't know,

90% more?

Ninety percent?

Jesus Christ, 75% is high.

Oh, fuck you. I think I deserve at least 80.

Okay, fine, 80%. You got yourself a deal.

What did Homm want?

Oh, Homm, shit. Uh, right. Yes.

He wants to... He wants to show you something.

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they donate to a total of 141 different candidates

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