Burn Notice

My name is Michael Westen. I used to be a spy until...

Man: We got a burn notice on you. You're blacklisted.

When you're burned, you've got nothing --

no cash, no credit, no job history.

You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in.

- Where am I? - Miami.

You do whatever work comes your way.

You rely on anyone who's still talking to you.

A trigger-happy girlfriend...

Should we shoot them?

...an old friend who used to inform on you to the FBI...

You know spies -- a bunch of bitchy little girls.

...family, too... Hey, is that your mom again?

...if you're desperate.... Someone needs your help, Michael.

...and a down-and-out spy you met along the way.

That's how we do it, people.

Bottom line -- as long as you're burned,

you're not going anywhere.

In prison, there is no such thing

as good attention.

It's better to be a number than to be known.

Take off her restraints.

Because with anonymity comes safety.

So whether you're dealing with a fellow inmate,

a guard, or the warden herself,

the last thing you want

is for your name to be on their mind.

Inmate Glenanne.

We have a room waiting for you in cell block 9.

That is the wing for high-risk offenders.

See, I heard about the incident

between you and inmate Doneski.

So what we're going to do

is have you sign a request for protective custody

and put you in the segregated wing.

I'd rather not.

I'm doing my best to help you right now.

High-profile prisoners get special treatment around here --

not the good kind.

I appreciate your concern, Warden,

but I can take care of myself.

You got a death wish,

play it out in someone else's facility.

Sign the damn form.

Well, it is my choice, isn't it?

Can't say I didn't try.

One more thing --

you have a visitor request from Michael Westen.

I don't know how you got privileges so quickly,

but if you want to sign this one,

he'll be on the list for Wednesday.

Hopefully you'll last that long.

When you've been marked for death,

hiding is a short-term strategy.

It might buy you time,

but it won't solve your problem.

To do that, you need contact.

It means exposing yourself to more potential threats,

but it also means

having the opportunity to find potential allies.

Well, if it isn't the newest resident

of cell block 9.

You're Ayn?

That I am.

I heard you can get things.

Wine, cigarettes.

Or if you're into something stronger,

I can make that happen, too.

It's why they call me Ayn -- "anything you need."

Someone in here is trying to have me killed.

I need to find out who.

You want to know who's trying to kill you?

Damn, girl.

You just skipped all over the small talk.

Whatever happened to, "where you from?

What you in for? How many years you get?"

Ireland, something I didn't do, God knows how long.

Can you help me?

Info like that doesn't come cheap.

Name a price.

See, now, that's where you being new creates a problem.

Money around here's canteen credits.

You don't have any.

I'm sure there are other ways to make it worth your while.

There's always favor for a favor.

But I doubt you want to go there.

Try me.

Dude.

You've checked your watch three times

in the last 30 seconds.

It's still...10:05, okay? Relax.

Pearce sounded a little off on the phone.

She specifically asked to meet here --

not the office -- which means something's wrong.

Or she knows you're about to visit Fi,

and she's got news about Anson.

Maybe she found the son of a bitch.

Maybe Fi's about to be released.

Oh, I could be wrong.

Hey. Thanks for meeting me.

What's going on? I, uh...

I honestly don't know where to start.

Why don't you start from the beginning?

I came back from lunch yesterday.

There was a message on my phone.

Anson: Agent Pearce, this is Anson Fullerton.

You've been making life awfully hard for me lately.

Now, I'm sure Michael's filled your head with lies,

but I am not the monster he makes me out to be.

And to prove it...

I'd like to offer you an olive branch.

I had a chance to read your personnel file,

and I noticed you spent many years

trying to find out what happened to Jay Toonberg.

I'd like to help.

What the hell's he talking about?

Jay and Pearce were engaged.

Oh, I'm sorry.

This was waiting for me at home.

His name is Ahmed Damour.

Meet the man who murdered my fiancé.

Burn Notice 6x03 Last Rites Original Air Date on June 28, 2012

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

It's all right there.

Jay was working undercover,

gathering intelligence on the Syrian military.

His cover got blown, and before they could pull him out,

Ahmed killed him.

And the best part -- now he's the CIA asset.

He's getting rich selling us the same intel

he stole from Jay, and we're protecting him.

So this murderer's living the high life in Bermuda

on the Agency's dime.

That is nice work if you can get it.

Talk to your boss about it yet? Oh, no, I can't.

I'm not even supposed to know that file exists.

They'd just order me to let it go.

But I can't do that.

Michael: Has it occurred to you

that Anson knew Ahmed was protected

when he dropped his name?

He knows you're helping us get Fi out of prison.

He wants you to throw your career away.

I get it, Westen,

but some things are more important than a career.

You're not the only person who ever lost somebody.

So, what? What? It's an eye for an eye now?

Come on, Pearce. That's not you.

It is when that's the only option.

Pearce, it's not the only option.

The Agency is only protecting Ahmed

until they get their intelligence.

We take away those secrets, we take away his protection.

He goes down. You don't.

We can help you do that. I promise.

Hate to say it, Mike, but I think

your mouth wrote a check that your butt can't cash.

I mean, you see the section here

where the CIA says Ahmed is untouchable?

I think that means, you know, "no touching."

Maybe you missed this page.

The CIA doesn't care about Ahmed.

They care about the intel.

He's got all the files on a hard drive.

Once we find that drive, we turn it over to the CIA

they'll wrap him up.

Yeah, no, I definitely saw that page,

just like I saw this one here.

Agency sent a team into his Bermuda compound

back in '08 looking for the hard drive.

They didn't find it.

I mean, what makes you think we can?

Sam, if I don't help Pearce, she's gonna ruin her career.

Without her at the Agency,

I'll never get Fi out of prison.

Okay, well, wait.

It says here the guy's getting ready

to take a cruise.

Maybe you isolate him on the boat --

make him think that he's sick.

If he doesn't think he's gonna make it...

He's gonna start talking.

And the first person he'll call is his

son, Sharif. Son, Sharif.

Back in Bermuda. It's perfect, Sam.

So perfect it's not gonna work.

We don't have the manpower.

You got to have three on the cruise,

three on the land side,

and if the CIA can't know about this,

well, they're not gonna pitch in.

I can get you a team.

Ohh!

Who -- Nate and your ma?

Oh, wow. You're not kidding, are you?

Look, Mike, nothing against the Westen clan,

but I'm gonna be real glad when we get Fi out of the clink.

Ayn: Just pick a book, bitch.

You know you can't read.

Press on, honey.