Berlin Station

Previously on "Berlin Station"...

Did you see Hector?

Yeah, I'm... I'm supposed to meet him

at an abandoned green dacha.

He was killed yesterday

by someone who had enough medical knowledge to use it.

- We were talking on the phone. - I heard screams.

Jan told me something was happening,

and then we were disconnected.

Could you shut the server down?

Yes. But I'd need a hard-line connection

to the server to do it.

I need to get these folks on the ground.

Tapa and Tallinn.

What the hell do you want, Kolya?

I want to stop Platov.

Right now, we are looking at $480 million.

The ground forces I spotted near Tapa

will take out the NATO trip-wire force.

Shut the fuck up.

Or what?

The next player won't fucking knock!

I'm just an old spook telling stories.

There was someone else. Diver.

And you killed my mother?

Daniel, what the fuck is this?

Pretty easy to fool everybody, right?

I'm dead.

Aren't I?

Not yet.

Steven?

You're back, buddy.

I was worried.

At are you, my fucking spirit guide?

That's right.

After all the shit we pulled,

which direction do you think we're going?

That way or that?

It's all right.

The Devil's not done with you yet.

Jesus, Ble.

Either die or quit your fucking whining.

Look how you bled all over our Egyptian sheets.

They are ruined.

Wait a minute.

How the fuck did I get here?

My men found you on the edge of my grounds.

Who patched me up?

My physician.

How do you go from trusted by Krik

to hunted by Krik in less than 24 hour

Fuck the story.

We cut to the end.

You stitched me up because I'm valuable. Right?

I have access.

I can get you anything.

I have everything I want.

What is missing?

One last "fuck you" to Krik and Platov.

You can take his fortune in the free port.

The Kremlin will seize Krik's fortune.

And that coward's in a courtroom cage.

There's still time.

But you've got to jump.

Now, Krik's out, Platov's in,

and the next person he's coming for is you.

Especially aft that dumb-as-fuck stunt you pulled.

Sending someone to kill him at the club.

I can take him down before he gets to you.

Your wound is infected.

My doctor says you may stl die.

So, what's new?

All I need is of your best men.

And some clothes.

I was Diver's mentor.

I made him.

Call me Doctor Fucking Frankenstein.

He was a good man.

He was a friend of mine.

And he was a traitor.

It's Hector.

Oh, thank Christ.

Oh, my God. Sorry to disappoint. st you, too.

I caught a slug, nothing serious.

Where are you?

Berlin.

Uh, after you and Torres missed exfil...

Wait a minute.

What do you mean when you said you thought you'd st me, too?

Where's Daniel?

You haven't heard?

Oh, Jesus, Hector.

Daniel didn't make it.

They dumped his body back in Berlin.

And Platov's trying to cover his tracks.

But, uh...

I... I, um...

I de it to the green dacha, Steven.

The rally point?

Geez, we must've missed each other.

Did you see anything?

Um... bits and pieces, I...

I can't...

Where are you?

Stl in Komarovo.

Heading to St. Petersburg with Timur Jadovsky.

Dangerous company.

Tell, uh... tell Valerie I'm doing her one last solid,

then she'd better lose my fucking number.

You too.

Dorn By '81, Diver was in Moscow.

He was married by that time.

Great girl.

One night, the newlyweds have a night out,

tossed back a few.

Diver's wife shouldn't have been driving,

but she was in much better shape than Diver was.

So, the worst befalls them.

She kills a destrian.

Her blood alcohol level's through the roof.

They offered Diver a choice.

If he don't want his young bride

rotting away in some gulag, dot, dot, dot...

You know the deal.

The Soviets ran Diver as a double for...

fuck, years.

And it all came crashing down, November 9, 1989,

the night we won the Cold War.

Saving Henrik Viiding, hmm, that was the pretext.

Diver crossed over to the east,

and he changed history at night,

for one reason only...

Self-preservation,

to make sure his sins would stay buried.

When the Stasi started burning their files,

Divemade damn sure his files burned up with them.

I know what you all want to hear.

You want Der's real name.

You want to know what happened to him.

Well, you're just gonna have to tune in tomorrow...

for my final podcast.

And I promise you, all will be revealed.

Time to hold up your end of the bargain.

My men are waiting

He's just had surgery and he's fighting sepsis.

If he doesn't rest, he'll be dead in two day

I only need him for two hours.

Long enough to get him to the freeport.

No rest for the wicked.

Robert, it's B.B.

Can't dodge my calls forever.

I'm not leaving!

What are you doing here?

We need you at work.

I can't, uh, leave just now.

What are you doing over here?

Hey, what's going on in here?

What the fuck?! Who is this woman?!

It's my neighbor. Nina Bartek.

She's been spying on me.

I'm telling you, always around, coincidences.

It's impossible. I'm telling you, B.B.

She's a fucking spook. -Do?

Robert, please tell me you have evidence.

There were noises.

I heard... I heard noises in my apartment.

And she took my mail and... And she's always around,

in the hallway, outside, always running into me.

And Basarov, the day he fucking bled out,

she stopped my watch. She bent the pin.

That was the sign for Basarov to kill himself.

So it's your intuition?

Which we're supposed to trust, right?

You've been under a lot of stress.

No. No. This isn't about Daniel.

We're all grieving.

But we're moving against Platov and I need you.

I don't care what Wolfe says.

Okay.

Okay. How can I help?

Well, if this woman's a foreig,

take her in and question her.

By the book.

That makes sense.

Robert?!

Just let me leave.

I'm going out of that door.

I can't do that.

Don't make it anharder.

Drop it.

Drop it.

Oh, Robert!

Oh, Robert! Don't die on me.

Oh, Robert! Don't die on me.

Esther, it's B.B. No time to explain.

I need an APB on a Nina Bartek,

170 centimeters, red hair. Consider her dangerous.

Last known was Markisches Ufer.

We think she has connections with the Russians.

She attacked Robert Kirsch with some kind of weapon.