Sotto Voce

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system...

secret system.

A system you asked for to keep you safe.

A machine that spies on you every hour of every day.

You granted it the power to see everything.

To index, order, and control the lives of ordinary people.

The government considers these people irrelevant.

We don't.

But to it you are all irrelevant,

victim or perpetrator,

if you stand in it's way...

We'll find you.

¶ ¶

Hope you brought sunscreen.

Sit your ass back down, Chiquita.

You're gonna pay your fare another way.

¶ ¶

What are you gonna do? Kill us?

Walk northeast about ten miles...

you might live.

And I think I'm gonna need this.

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

Got eyes on our new number, Finch.

He's like us,

except he actually has a license for breaking and entering.

Indeed...Terry Easton.

Thirty eight, lives with his wife Carla.

He's had a number of odd jobs but appears to have settled

on that of a locksmith.

24 hour service, case in point, 6:00 a.m. job.

Apart from a few parking tickets,

Mr. Easton appears to be a model citizen.

What are you doing, Finch?

Doing a little cleaning, Mr. Reese.

Just because it looks like a subway,

doesn't mean it has to smell like one.

No, Bear. Voruit.

Good morning. You missed a spot.

Ms. Groves, what can I help you with?

Actually, I think I'm here to help you, Harry.

She gave me a number...

a radio engineer, Matthew Stone.

Guy's in charge of maintenance

on the radio antennas across the boroughs.

He might be helping Samaritan spread its coded messages.

Or he may have stumbled onto Samaritan's plot

and become a liability.

Either way, you should proceed

with extreme caution, Ms. Groves.

Don't worry, Harry.

I'll keep my eye on Stone from a distance,

and I'm pretty sure...

I'll have the biggest gun on the block.

Finch, I don't think Easton's 6:00 a.m. job is on the clock.

¶ ¶

The guy's breaking in.

Got any intel on this building, Finch?

"Kepler & Mountain Investments,"

private equity firm handling accounts

in the hundreds of millions.

The firm would most certainly have its share

of valuable information.

I think he's here to steal it.

¶ ¶

Easton triggered the door alarm...

And it didn't seem to stop him.

¶ ¶

That's not gonna happen, friend.

Stay back... or else.

Or else what?

You set off that bomb, we all go.

Between the flop sweat and shaky hands,

you don't strike me as a killer.

And I don't think you're suicidal.

If you're not careful...

we're all gonna have a really bad day.

¶ ¶

May I?

¶ ¶

Now...

it's time that you and I had a little chat.

¶ ¶

Bomb squad handles explosives out of this precinct.

If we find it's a terrorist act,

we kick it to Homeland Security.

That's felony weight. It's a long time.

But you're no terrorist, are you Terry?

You didn't make that bomb.

So you want to tell me who did?

¶ ¶

Coffee's not bad.

Not good, either.

Well, it's a hell of a lot worse in Supermax.

Who sent you into that investment firm?

¶ ¶

You want to tell me what's really going on?

¶ ¶

Easton seems terrified, but he won't talk.

He's either paid to plant that bomb or coerced.

His finances look rather ordinary.

I don't see anything that suggests he's been paid off,

and he's certainly not a client of such a high-end firm.

He doesn't seem like a pro, so why use him to begin with?

Perhaps that's why, Mr. Reese.

Because our locksmith appears so benign,

you'd never see him coming.

Well, I confiscated his cell.

See what you can find.

So, where's the new partner?

His transfer's still pending.

I'm flying solo until then.

Just like this guy.

Incoming.

One of New York's Finest taking on a gang of Templarios.

Hey, Chen, let me give you a hand.

Mr. Reese?

I've discovered an alarming self-deleting text

on Mr. Easton's phone, and I've restored it.

It's Mr. Easton's wife.

I know this is your wife Carla, and I know you're scared.

What I don't know is who sent this message.

Whoever it is knew you could access that investment firm.

He said not to talk to anyone.

- He said he'd kill her. - He?

Terry, I can't save Carla unless you talk to me.

Tell me who he is.

I can't tell you because I don't know.

I got a call from someone.

It was just a voice,

but he knew everything about me.

He said he'd kill Carla.

He sent that text.

An hour later, a package was delivered

to my door.

A bomb with instructions.

¶ ¶

And I failed.

It's him.

¶ ¶

Answer it.

Hello?

- Mr. Easton, you failed your assignment.

And while I appreciate the effort,

I'm sorry to inform you

that you're never going to see your wife again.

I hope you understand.

Cleanliness is all.

Mr. Reese...

I'm afraid I recognize that voice.

Finally, a chance to speak to the man who handed me

my first defeat.

I hope you understand. Cleanliness is all.

Voice analysis was a match.

The last time we encountered The Voice,

he had coerced a 911 call operator

into covering up a murder.

That call center operator had access to a server.

Just like Easton could access the investment firm.

And in both cases, The Voice had leverage.

Need I remind you that a child almost died at his hands.

We need to find Easton's wife before it's too late.

When was the last time you heard from Carla?

She never came home from work last night.

And then the call came.

Mr. Reese? I've managed to extract location data

from the digital photo of Carla.

She's being held in a warehouse

in the meat-packing district.

I'm sending you the address now.

Is that about Carla?

You know-- you know where she is?

Don't worry, we'll find her.

Can I come with you?

Please. - Stay put.

I will bring her back to you safely.

I promise.

Need you to find our invisible man, Finch.

I may have an idea about how to locate The Voice.

Use one enigmatic criminal to catch another.

Hey, got a location on a possible hostage.