CIA

[Radiohead's "Everything In Its Right Place"]

Tonight was fun.

- It was, wasn't it? - Mm.

- I love that place. - Mm-hmm.

This is me.

What, all of it?

Wow, I'd love to meet your divorce attorney.

- Oh, he's in jail now.

- Right, all the best ones are.

Oh, God.

I'm so sorry.

Oh, it's work.

Don't hate me.

- Your patients take advantage of you.

Ain't that the truth.

Someone tipped off the feds.

OK.

Let me see what I can see.

I'm saying no NYPD.

No forced entry.

What kind of break-in is this?

Well, the quiet kind.

Top secret.

- OK. So what do we know?

15 employees in the hospital, 9 in the ICU,

internal bleeding, organ failure,

but no external injuries.

No blunt force.

Could be like Havana.

Some kind of directed-energy weapon.

- No other employees were affected on any other floor.

This was a targeted attack. - Hmm.

Someone wanted something.

What do they even do up here? - No idea.

And I bet you a sawbuck that this guy's

not gonna tell us. - I don't gamble anymore.

Hey, hey, don't touch that.

- OK, that's no problem. - Why?

- Hi, I'm Jubal Valentine, Special Agent in Charge

of the New York Field Office.

This is Special Agent Bill Goodman.

And you are?

- I'm the development lead at Critical Devices.

They said if there's ever a problem, I follow protocol.

I had my security chief call the FBI.

- Well, it sounds like you did the right thing.

You want to tell us what happened?

- I go out for a slice, I come back,

I found my guys, my whole team...

Mm-hmm.

- Bleeding out their ears somehow.

- You went out for a slice when your whole team was attacked?

Yeah.

- I want to know why this floor?

- We work on sensitive government contracts.

They're worth billions.

So it was a heist.

What'd they take?

- I really can't say, I'm sorry.

- Sawbuck. - Help me out.

Let's say this was some kind of Havana Syndrome attack.

How would our suspect walk across the floor

when everyone else was getting zapped?

- That's a really good question.

I know.

What's his problem?

Who are you?

You didn't ride up with us.

- No, no, I came up on my own. I'm DOD.

- We didn't ask for anyone from DOD.

- Well, I'm not a guy you ask for.

Hey, don't touch that.

It's a crime scene. Let's see some ID.

- OK, buddy, look, I got clearance so high,

you need a ladder to reach it.

- Is that right? - Yeah.

Well, we'll see about that.

You wait right here. All right?

Hey, did you know DOD was here?

What? No. Where?

Right there.

We need to shut this building down.

Lock the doors!

Go! Go to the door!

All right, clear.

I'll go down. You go up.

Meeting someone.

- So the feds think this is a case they can make.

How very disappointing.

Almost everything is.

- We couldn't keep the feds out of it.

By the time your man pinged on our systems,

their company's security chief had already

called law enforcement.

I'll find him.

Your asset, Adrian?

Yeah, Adrian Torres.

We worked together in Venezuela.

He was modifying battlefield tech for guerrilla purposes.

So we placed him at a defense contractor

when we exfil'd him.

They make these sci-fi laser blaster things.

Directed-energy weapons.

- Well, anyway, I think that he turned one on

and aimed it at his coworkers

in order to steal something.

- This company, all they make are doomsday devices.

This is bad.

Very much so, yes.

Can't believe I'm saying this, but I need a new Chuck.

An FBI liaison?

- We can't operate on your shores

without the FBI's say-so.

Poor Chuck.

He let you do whatever you wanted.

- Look, Nikki, I need someone, anyone,

as long as they have a badge and a pulse,

but we need to move fast.

I need your absolute best.

Yeah, well, I've got him.

He's a grinder.

He will work a case until he makes sense of it,

no matter how complex.

- Is he a pushover? - No, he's not.

My guy's a handful.

He likes to drive on the wrong side.

He's British. It's a long story.

Wait, he's British? How--

- Yeah, born here, raised there.

It's a long story.

- OK, well, I'm telling you, this is your guy--

two tours in Afghanistan, a law degree,

the highest honors from University of Michigan,

starting pitcher on his high school baseball team.

What's his ERA?

He's true blue.

Well...

we don't see color.

Everything we do is gray.

Right.

Yeah, come on in, Bill.

Sit down.

I'll stand.

- OK, well, congratulations, you've been selected to join

an elite CIA-FBI fusion cell.

- Excuse me? - You're welcome.

I didn't apply for that.

Never even heard of that unit.

- Well, then they're doing their job.

Why me?

- Mm, you've worked organized crime, narcotics,

you're a jack-of-all-trades,

and, unlike me, you manage up nicely

without being a total kiss-ass.

Thank you, I think.

- See that? Very smooth. Never just the thank-you.

This fusion cell, they--

they take on tricky situations where the U.S. government

needs to use a lighter touch, counterterrorism,

diplomatic flare-ups, you know.

How long is this posting?

- It's hard to say. - Hmm.

You're honored, I'm sure.

Here, their hidey-hole. Code's on the back.

There's no floor number.

What do I know?

8, 1, 2, 4.

Hmm.

8, 12?

Hmm.

- Special Agent Bill Goodman, Colin Glass.