Reacher

Previously on Reacher...

No one knows the three of you are here.

We are treating you like enemy combatants on U.S. soil.

We can do whatever we want.

Where is the drive that Anna Merrick gave to you on the train?

- Get in! - Who are you?

Russell Plum, freelance journalist.

- What is all this? - My research.

I've been investigating the CIA for years.

In the '90s, my mother met a U.S. soldier named John.

Congressman John Sampson.

They had an affair, and you're basically walking with the result of that union.

My doctors say I need a bone marrow transplant,

but matches are hard to come by.

You were in country when my source was conceived.

You think I had an affair?

If my DNA's all it's gonna take to get you to leave us alone...

...here you go.

Someone was looking for the drive.

- Your nephew? - Yeah, I wish he'd call me back.

Hey, who's that guy talking to Sampson?

That's Nolan Cahill, Sampson's chief of staff.

Remember when I said there was a fourth witness

on the train when Anna killed herself? That's him.

You're back.

Van's downstairs.

- Here. - What's this?

A cat.

We need all the information you can get on Nolan Cahill.

He's John Sampson's chief of staff.

Why? What's going on?

My sister, uh...

...Anna, she, um...

The one you were talking about in the van?

Works for the Pentagon, had some kind of jump drive?

She shot herself in the head in front of me

two nights ago on the Broad Street Line.

A little tact?

Cahill was on the train the night she died.

We need to know why.

A woman kills herself on the same train

as the chief of staff of a potential presidential candidate.

The CIA starts kidnapping people over it.

It-It's a tragedy,

clearly, of course, but that's a story.

Give me a beat, I'll get into some records.

You got Ben. Leave a message, or live like you're in the 21st century and text me.

The mailbox is full

- and cannot-- - Fuck!

I got it.

I got it. Sorry.

He's a liability.

Inexperienced, all emotion.

- He's a cop. - From Mayberry.

- Mayfield. - Same thing.

We don't know what we're up against. We need all the help we can find.

- He can't help us. - How do you know?

You ever have a sibling get killed over some fucked-up illegal shit?

Yes.

- What? - Bottom line?

He doesn't pull it together, I'll leave him on the side of the road.

Who are you calling?

Lila. Sampson's being straight about not being her father.

Jumped at the chance to provide DNA.

I want to know why she lied to me and what she really knows.

Okay, found a lot.

Cahill served on the same Delta Team as Sampson.

He was Sampson's commanding officer. Huh.

He's got more medals than the Olympics.

- Man like that knows a lot. - Great.

Now what are we doing here? Let's go and confront him.

- He won't talk. - Then we make him talk.

We can't pull a congressman's chief of staff off the street and rough him up.

That girl was sliced to pieces.

I want my fuckin' nephew back!

Jacob, we're not fighting you. It's just--

Someone's outside.

It's the CIA backup squad from the black site.

- How'd they find us? - Oh, shit.

What'd you do?

After you guys ditched me, I may have posted something on 4Chan

saying I found a thumb drive on the Philly subway.

It had Anna Merrick's name on the side and military records on it.

I asked if anyone had any intel, maybe they should just reach out.

What the fuck?

You guys wouldn't tell me anything, and you stole my van.

All right? This story could give me my career back.

I figured I could flush out someone who might know something.

I used a VPN, I used an encryption so they couldn't trace it.

Looks like someone could.

Maybe two someones.

Yeah, looks like we got another car full of thugs.

That one with the bruise was at Lila's hotel yesterday.

Who the hell are these guys?

Doesn't matter if they're private contractors,

federal boys or the '75 Cincinnati Reds.

If they're here, it's not good.

Think the Big Red Machine's working with the CIA as ghost ops?

Maybe.

I don't think they're working together.

They're coming in.

Oh, shit. They cut the power.

They'll use a standard protocol search,

work their way up floor by floor until they find us.

There's only one set of stairs.

- We'll run straight into 'em. - Is there any way off the roof?

- Or a fire escape? - No.

- Where are your knives? - I don't have any knives. I eat take-out.

- You got any weapons? - I have five cans of wasp spray.

- Why? - I have wasps.

Get 'em. Jacob, grab the fire extinguisher.

Stay here.

Use that to create cover so Tamara can start shooting when she hears the signal.

What's the signal?

Screaming.

Come on, hurry. They're coming.

Clear!

Clear.

- Keep it down. - I can't find the fucking wasp spray.

Now!

Still alive? Good.

Who do you work for?

- I need a doctor. - You want a doctor?

- I want to know who hired you. - Please.

- Hey, tell me where Ben is right now! - Hey. Get him out of here!

You have to stay calm.

Stay calm. He knows where Ben is.

But he can't say shit if you kill him.

We need that man alive if we're gonna get intel.

Uh... that's not gonna happen.

- You're robbing him? - We need to figure out who these guys are.

Their guns could be traced back to murdered CIA.

- Oh, shit. - What is it?

Two addresses. One's this place, one's hopefully not what I think it is.

All right, we got to move, guys.

Lila, it's Reacher.

Your pal from the hotel yesterday paid another visit.

He's not a problem anymore, but he had the address

to the Rittenhouse Hotel on him.

If that's where you are, leave now.

I'll find you.

Hey?

- What? - You good?

Yeah, man. I... I just got to get out of D.C.

I mean, you have no idea what this city can be like

when they have you in their crosshairs.

They killed my career. Now they're gonna kill me.

Can we please just go any faster?

We need to make a stop in town first.

- Wha...? - What? Are you kidding me?

We're on the run, and we need cash.

Got to hit an ATM while we're in the city.

The people that want us dead know we're in D.C.

By the time they get a bead on the ATM, we're long gone.

Yeah, man. Might be following us already.

Before they came up to my loft, they saw the van

in the garage, they probably called it in to their bosses.

Our vehicle's been compromised.

You got another skin under the Plumber sign?

Yeah, but they have the make and model. We got to get a new ride.

We're wanted by the CIA.

We can't exactly go to Hertz and give 'em our licenses.

I know a place.

We can be there in less than two hours.

Yo, Cyrus.

Ah, fuck this. Nah, nah, nah, nah.

Me and Docherty cut a deal.

I get you dirt on those boys from Norristown, you leave me alone.

Docherty made that deal, not me.

I don't make deals with punks.

- Then what you doing here? - I need to make a deal with some punks.

And who are your white boys?

My backup dancers. Want to trade my Windstar

for your Highlander?

That's money. That's bullshit.

We both know that SUV's stolen.

So, if you want,

we can continue this conversation at the District while I run the VIN.

That is, if it isn't already filed off.

If you were gonna bust us, you'd have done it by now.

You are absolutely right.

Guess we'll have to figure out another way to negotiate.

What are you doing?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Yo, that's 50 racks right there! What you doing?

What is she doing?

Getting his attention.

- Hey, yo-- - Let's try this again.

My Windstar for your Highlander.

'Cause in a few seconds, our only option is to run our asses out of here.

Shit. All right. All right. All right, just put it out. Put it out.

And throw in some plates from a car that's properly registered.

That Jetta?

Nah, nah, nah. That's my sister's car right there.

Rayona'll kill me. You know she's crazy, right?

This rag is burning up pretty quickly.

Okay. Okay. You know what?

I think I can make it work with Ray Ray.

I can figure it out. Just please put it out. Put it out!

I'm-a call you Pancake.