Leverage

Guard: Hey! Who's there?

I'll check in here. You check in the next room.

No one in here! I'll check the hallway.

Check the stairwell!

Come on.

No, no.

Parker, you do not bring an FBI agent into our bar.

No, our cover's not blown.

McSweeten still thinks I'm special agent Hagen.

Who agreed to help him break into Portland FBI last night.

What are you thinking?

I'm doing this because he needs us.

So do the victims of Oliver Schmidt's Ponzi scheme.

I've been planning that takedown for months, all right?

I-I-I don't have time for this.

Nate, he's about to lose his father.

Please just go talk to him.

For me.

Pancreatic cancer.

Doctors said we're out of options and I could take him home,

so that's what I did.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Agent Hagen says you're a profiler

who's helped the FBI solve impossible cases.

I take it you got one involving your father.

My dad was an FBI agent here in Portland for over 40 years.

He took a lot of bad guys off the streets,

but none of that is gonna end up in his obituary

because of the one that got away.

Before my father dies, help me do one thing for him.

Help me bring D.B. Cooper to justice.

Wait. The number-one unsolved mystery

in the history of American crime...

that's our new job?

No, our job is to take down Oliver Schmidt.

This is just a detour. Sophie?

It's 1971, the day before Thanksgiving.

A 727 takes off from Portland bound for Seattle.

It is hijacked by this man,

a passenger who goes by the name of Dan Cooper.

Wait. I thought his name was D.B. Cooper?

That was misheard by a reporter at the scene,

and then it was repeated until it became gospel.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your swooning.

Go on and swoon.

He shows the stewardess what appears to be a bomb.

He demands $200,000 in cash and four parachutes.

He gets them. Then he does something no one expects.

Somewhere over the cascades,

which is near to where we are now,

he jumps, and he just... he disappears forever.

Sophie, just real quick...

you had a poster of D.B. Over your bed when you was, like, 15.

Tell the truth... you did, didn't you? So what? What if I did?

Wait. Let me save us a little trouble here, okay?

The guy jumped from 10,000 feet, yeah,

but it was seven below zero.

He's in a 1971 parachute.

He jumped in bad weather over dense woods.

He didn't survive. Case closed.

All right, this is... this is probably just

a, you know, a waste of time. What?!

But I promised that we would try.

So, I'm gonna go talk to McSweeten's dad,

and, Hardison, you're gonna follow up on the old case file.

The old case file that Parker stole? Yeah.

The one that's, like, 80 volumes long?

Don't worry. I got you some help.

Mr. Reynolds.

Special agent Thomas?

You can call me Alan. This isn't a bureau matter.

Call me Steve.

I was Peter McSweeten's partner on the Cooper case.

Well, we're gonna be working with Mr. Dalworth here.

He's a private consultant.

Well... Anything for Peter, but, uh,

you should know this wasn't just a case for me.

It was personal.

My, um, late wife was a stewardess on the plane.

Oh. Wow.

Well, then, you're the right man to ask.

It seems everyone has a theory about Cooper.

What's yours?

About a year after Cooper vanished,

Richard McCoy hijacks a plane out of Denver,

gets caught, sentenced to 45 years.

Some time later, he makes a gun out of dental paste

and breaks through the prison gates in a garbage truck.

Dies in a gunfight with the FBI.

There's a fella in Florida, a Duane Weber,

admitted to being Cooper on his death bed in 1995.

You want a theory? Take your pick.

Dad? Is it a good time?

The sirens are luring the sailors to their death.

Luckily, I know how it ends.

I'll be back in a few hours.

Tally ho, son.

Peter McSweeten.

Nick Dalworth.

Have a seat.

Thank you.

So, you're a profiler who's come to take a run

at the Cooper case.

If it's all right.

I spent 40 years trying to understand one man.

What's it like to climb into the mind

of a different criminal every day?

Well, if I told you I left it at the office, I'd be lying.

Then this is a story you should hear.

It began the day before Thanksgiving, 1971.

Oh, what's that?

Just a little something for the new job.

Well!

This is gonna be tough.

Saying goodbye to the people you care about always is.

Tally ho, Todd. Tally ho, dad.

It was my first day as chief of the Seattle office.

Before I reported there, I had to do one thing...

thank the people I served with here in Portland.

Hail, hail. The conquering hero returns.

I just came to say goodbye.

You were a great partner, Reggie,

and you got a bright future here at the bureau.

Especially now that you're moving on.

You was, uh, kind of pinning my wings back, chief.

No offense. None taken.

If I could just get everyone's attention for... for a second.

So, our motto is "fidelity, bravery, integrity."

And all my time here in Portland, I must say

you have all shown those qualities every single day,

and for that, I thank you.

But if I could do one thing before I leave,

I'd like to add a word to that sign...

"compassion."

Never forget to put yourselves

in the shoes of the people we serve,

and not just the victims, but the perpetrators as well.

They're all deserving of our mercy.

Thank you.

There you are.

Ma'am, your drink. Thank you.

Hey, little lady, can I get another scotch?

I'm telling you, Laurie,

the shorter they make these hemlines,

the more these drunks think we're on the menu.

Don't knock it till you try it.

Not even this stops them!

I want combat pay.

Well, Stephanie, good luck with that.

Welcome to flight 305. What can I get for you, sir?

Bourbon and water, please.

And this is for you.

What did I tell you? Another lovesick businessman.

Now, now. Don't be so hasty.

Once Cooper handed Stephanie Ritter the note,

she became his connection to us.

Just about everything we know about him,

we got from that brave woman.

Of course, Stephanie had to open the note first.

Here you are, sir.

Miss...

You really ought to read the note.

The plane just landed.

We'll be at the airport in about five minutes.

32 passengers on board. Do they know what's happening?

No, just the, uh, the stewardess, Stephanie Ritter,

and the two-man flight crew.

And the hijacker... what are his demands?

$200,000,

a refueling truck to meet the plane here in Seattle...

and four parachutes.

Four parachutes.

McSweeten, welcome to Seattle.

I see you've met Mr. Crowsley from the airline.

I presume he's brought you up to speed.

While you were delayed,

I prepared a tactical assault plan.

My men can take out the hijacker with minimal casualties.

That is my recommended course of action.

Why is that?

Because the bomb's a fake, the plane is on the ground.

If we let him take off again, anything can happen.

So, what are your orders?

***

well, police snipers can't hit what they can't see. Hades down?

My strike team is standing by.

We wait much longer,

there's no telling what this guy might do.

Radio the pilot.

And tell the hijacker to release all the passengers,

and we'll give him what he wants.

Roll these up. You're just gonna let him

take off with the money and four parachutes?

Ah, the chutes are a bluff. He's gonna land.

How the hell do you know that?

The same way you know the bomb's a fake.

Sorry I couldn't let you get off with the passengers.

I need someone to speak for me.

Are you scared?

Do I seem crazy to you?