White Collar

Neal. Ellen.

You and your father.

Neal: But you told me the truth.

He was a dirty cop... and he's not dead.

You grew up in Witness Protection.

I was 3 when the marshals took us away.

Ellen agreed to help me look into my father

before she disappears into WITSEC again.

We found a gun with your dad's prints on it.

He killed a cop? He confessed.

Neal: Ellen! They found me.

Who? Trust Sam.

I was undercover with the Flynn organization.

They were a local crime family with some P.D. on the payroll.

Including my father?

Dennis Flynn Sr. died in prison. This is his son.

Maybe he's here for revenge.

Sam's blood. Run his DNA.

Peter, he's here.

Something you have to know, Neal.

Why didn't you tell me?

Tell you what?

That you're my father.

Why didn't you tell me? Why did you lie to me?

I had a feeling that after everything you'd heard about me,

I'd be the last person you'd want to see walking through your door.

Well, that's a big assumption to make.

Did you kill a cop?

I'm a lot of things, Neal, but, uh...

not that.

No. Not that.

All right.

You tell me what did happen.

That was your third birthday.

You remember? No, I don't.

It was the hottest March in years.

Ellen and I had just gotten off duty.

Dad! Neal!

You didn't think I was gonna miss the cake, did you?

Sam: I had made detective three months earlier.

Next thing you know, the two of you will be on patrol together.

I didn't wear the hat anymore, but you always loved it.

Things were good then.

What changed?

I was young, driven,

confident I could take on anybody.

Ellen: All right, police! Hands in the air!

She said hands in the air!

Man: Drop it!

Sam: Ellen would have said I was arrogant.

She probably would have been right.

Well, that's great,

but I want to know what happened to our family.

I'm telling you.

I was a good cop.

Son of a bitch! Ellen and I were on a tear.

All the bad guys were afraid of us.

You have to understand something, Neal.

I loved you and your mother very much, but we weren't rich.

It's not easy raising a family on a cop's salary.

We hit these gun runners,

taking down their major suppliers.

Let's go.

One operation, I find myself alone,

staring at a crate full of cash.

One bundle was three months' salary.

What did you do?

I've thought a lot about that moment.

I could have gone either way.

Flip a coin.

Heads, I take it. Tails, I don't.

And you took it.

Yeah. I took it.

Hey, Bennett. Oh.

Sam: That's when everything changed.

We got to talk.

Sam: Your supervising officer

sees you taking money from a crime scene,

that should be the last thing you ever do as a cop.

But he said he'd look the other way

if I did a couple favors for him.

And if not, you went to jail.

That's how I ended up working for the Flynns.

Let's go, guys! Let's go! It's a raid!

They started me off small.

Let's go!

Making sure their guys got out the door before a bust,

that sort of thing.

Police! Hands in the air!

Ellen had no idea.

Police! I was her partner, her best friend.

Where the hell is everybody?

I was in her blind spot.

Pretty soon, opening doors for the Irish mob wasn't enough.

I was also taking down a lot of the Flynns' competition.

That's when things got bad.

Neal, are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

You're James Bennett.

I understand you have every reason not to trust me right now, Burke.

You told us you were Sam Phelps.

No, you assumed I was Sam Phelps. I didn't correct you.

Did Ellen know that she was in contact with you and not Sam?

No.

So you lied to Ellen, too?

When I went into WITSEC,

they sent me to Montana -- alone.

After about 10 years, I was going nuts.

I-I couldn't take it anymore.

They wouldn't tell me where you were,

so I went back to D.C.

The only one who would talk to me was Sam.

He told me how he and Ellen had gotten very close

to making a case against the people who framed me,

but the only connection he had left with Ellen

was a P.O. box --

a way of getting in touch in case of an emergency.

And Sam gave you the P.O. box.

He was about to retire.

If Ellen reached out, he wanted somebody to be able to help her.

Then one day...

...this showed up.

That's Ellen e-mail.

I was gonna tell her the truth when I got to New York,

but I didn't get the chance.

Listen, I've been here over a month, and I got nothing.

I don't even know who attacked me.

Dennis Flynn.

That's impossible. He died in prison.

This is Flynn Jr.,

the son who's trying to revive the family business.

We think he killed Ellen.

We plan to bring them down -- for good this time.

Let me help you.

How bad are you injured?

Ah, it's just a bruised rib.

It's nothing I haven't slept off before.

I'll be in touch.

Have fun in school. Okay.

Bye-bye.

You okay?

No. I'm not.

Do you believe him?

Right now, I want to focus on taking Flynn down.

This is Dennis Flynn Jr.

Years ago, the Flynn crime family was dismantled.

He's spent the last 10 years trying to rebuild it.

According to organized crime,

Flynn did so by moving into the white-collar world.

His latest venture is personal.

The Flynns started making money by bootlegging whiskey.

After prohibition ended, they moved into counterfeiting

and used the Conroy family for distribution

until they had a falling out.

I have Google, too.

Flynn doesn't normally get his hands dirty.

But because of the family history,

he's handling this himself.

It's a decent fake.

The relief on the lettering is a little shallow,

but if you've never held a bottle before, you wouldn't know that.

True test, however, is in the palate.

If you're pouring, I'll take a dram.

For Flynn, this venture symbolizes everything

that once was great about the family.

It's not about profit. It's about pride.

Even so, there's always money in good fake booze.

Which this is not.

It's bottom shelf mixed with caramel coloring.

Counterfeiting is all about creating the closest simulation

to the real thing at a fraction of the cost.

Flynn needs better taste for a low price.

I can make a better product for him, gain his trust.

Of course your résumé includes whiskey counterfeiting.

Well, basic alcohol counterfeiting.

Once you know the fundamentals, you can --

Good, we can get him on distribution of counterfeit items.

What are you talking about? Thanks, guys.

We arrest Flynn for distribution? That's it?

We don't have enough evidence for murder...yet.

But if we can prove distribution,

he'll be locked up, and we'll be able to collect evidence.

You're the boss.

I want you to teach Jones

everything you know about whiskey counterfeiting.

You can't bench me on this.

Yeah. I can.

It would take me a month to teach Jones everything I know,

and you need me to make a good counterfeit.

Are you ransoming your skills?

Look, if it were easy to do,

Flynn wouldn't have such a hard time finding a good one.

You're too close to this.

You really think you can keep a smile on your face

when you're standing in front of that guy

after what he's done?

Yeah, I do... Because I have to.

What are your thoughts on approaching him?

Mozzie: I must have lost my mind.

I went to New Jersey of my own free will.