Blindspot

Betty, come on. You'll miss the cake.

Eh, it has nuts. I can't eat nuts.

If I'm being honest, you are way too serious.

Come on. Have some fun.

Or don't.

Okay...

- Clear the way! - Emergency!

Please, clear the hallway.

Meg, Reade tells me

that you are up for a big story at the paper.

Uh, well...

He wasn't supposed to.

In Tuscany, right? For how long?

A month, but I can't go.

What?

It is an all-expenses-paid trip to one of the most beautiful

places on Earth, of course you can go.

Reade, you should take a couple of days off and go with her.

She's got a lot on her plate, and I can't...

She's got a lot on her plate?

It is a huge opportunity. What could she possibly...

Zapata, drop it.

Oh.

I can't go because if I leave the country...

Meg...

I can't come back.

I'm in the U.S. illegally.

I'm undocumented.

Morning. You're up early.

I couldn't sleep.

Why? What's up?

For so long I didn't know Avery existed.

And then when I found out she did,

I didn't know where she was...

or if she was even alive.

And now that she's here in New York,

she still feels a million miles away.

It's not gonna be that way forever.

I know she doesn't owe me anything, but...

I wanna know her.

She'll come around.

Kurt.

Nas. Come in.

Thanks.

Jane...

Long time, huh?

What are you doing here?

I need your help.

It's about one of the tattoos.

My family came from India when I was six.

My uncle arranged our papers,

and we thought everything was okay.

Then, when I was 16,

I took my documents to the DMV

to get my driver's license...

the lady at the counter took one look at them

and said that if I didn't want to get arrested

I should burn the whole pile.

Your uncle got you fakes.

I've gone to college.

I've paid taxes.

I've worked at two high-profile newspapers

without being discovered.

But everything that I do, it's a roll of the dice.

That's a horrible way to live.

But not as bad as the idea

of being shipped off to a place

that I barely remember.

This is my home.

I love this country.

And I'm proud of what I have contributed.

As you should be.

Who else knows?

Just a few people over the years.

You can't do it alone.

You need allies,

people that you can trust.

And you can trust me.

Of course.

Okay, I'm just gonna say it.

You're undocumented, and you decide to date

the Assistant Director of the FBI?

He didn't exactly lead with that.

And by the time I knew, it was too late.

I was in love.

We're needed at the office.

- Bonjour, monsieur. - Oh, not today, Rich.

Chamomile. Paper.

I just wanted to check on the status of my request.

You're not going to that party, Rich.

It's not that party. It's the party.

Le Soirée Foncé... the Dark Party.

Where the best and brightest

of the worst and the darkest of the web come to meet.

My answer's the same as it's been

the last three times: Hell no.

I'm not about to send a recovering cyber felon

to dark web Mardi Gras.

Uh, if you want me to be your crack consultant

on all things deep web, I need to stay on brand.

I could definitely come back with some actionable intel.

For the last time, request denied.

Assistant Director Reade.

Nas, good to see you. I hope.

Oh!

Look who's back from her Brexit!

Pleasure to see you again, mum.

Uh, sorry, what's he doing here?

He works with us now, and it's a long story.

Right.

Well...

I have two items of interest.

First, I've learned that Sandstorm

was initially funded by...

Hank Crawford?

- Can you prove it? - Not yet.

How'd you get the intel?

Well, since my time at the NSA

came to a rather unceremonious end,

I've been freelancing for Keaton at the CIA.

What?

Why didn't you tell us that Nas was CIA?

- 'Cause I didn't know. - I'm a well-kept secret,

even at the agency.

My work there mainly consists of

helping with the ongoing interrogation of Ellen Briggs,

a.k.a. Shepherd.

Oh, right, Jane's mom, the terrorist.

My second item of interest

is that I've learned through back channels

that the NSA's regional office was breached,

and someone stole this.

"Nergal," an extremely dangerous

NSA-created computer virus.

Wait, the Nergal virus is real?

That's, like, a scary story

that you tell young hackers around a campfire.

Named for the Mesopotamian god of pestilence,

which just happens to be on Jane's body.

An image enhancement

shows a hidden numerical structure within her tattoo

that matches the key coding elements of the virus.

Nergal's like the successor to the Stuxnet virus, right?

The one that let us sabotage Iran's nuclear program?

Yeah, sped up their centrifuges

to the point of total system overload.

Yes, but this one works remotely.

You just need the box.

Theoretically, anything with

a mechanized system pushed to the point of collapse.

If they stole it, we have to assume

they're gonna use it soon.

We need to find this device now.

A few days ago, Nergal started trending

on some of the web's more nefarious

and out-of-the way forums.

And from that, we found a link to this...

Oh, whoa... that timer is new.

They're showing what the device can do.

Can you ID the ship?

There's no identifying markers.

It could be one of thousands.

Oh, my God.

If that was just the proof of concept,

whoever's doing this...

Is just getting started.

Subtitles by explosiveskull

Okay, reports are coming in. Four dead, 22 wounded.

- Massive environmental fallout. - Someone took control,

turned the function speed up to 11,

and then... kaboom.

We need to secure that device before there's another attack.

Any leads on who did this?

- I have a theory. - W-Wait, shut up, shut up.

What? What do you see?

Yeah. Excuse me.

- Right... there. - What is that?

- A bad pixel? - No.

It's a calling card.

Now, let's see who we are dealing with...

P-U-K.

PopUpKid.

Oh, that's bad.

How bad?

Well, on a scale of one to terrible,

this is full-on terrible.

PopUpKid pops up once every few years

with a new virus or piece of tech,

pulls off some crazy stunt,

and then disappears.

Nobody knows who they are

or what they look like.

Actually, I think I do.

So I've been looking for anything weird on the books

at the NSA since the device was last confirmed secure.

No forced entry into the room where it was being held,

which means it was either an inside job

or a forged access key.

Or both.

What's clear is that no matter