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.

Michael: I know where we can find Anson Fullerton.

Excuse me?

He's picking up a package tomorrow

in a motel in Atlantic City.

Nate, you're the only one who can get to Anson

before he escapes.

Get up. Get up!

We got him, man. Michael: It is about time.

No! Nate!

Nate!

I need to find who killed my brother.

I'm not giving up on this.

I did some poking around the FBI.

Turns out a buddy at the bureau

might be willing to share Nate's file on the D.L.

If you can get that FBI file on Nate's murder,

I can run down leads with Jesse.

Jesse: The sniper rifle used to kill Nate

was made by Meyerson Industries.

If we find that gun, that'd be a good start.

We can't just ask them who they sold their gun to.

Well, not directly,

but there are other ways to get information.

Like? Blackmail.

The V.P. of sales is the son of the founder.

He's a blackmailer's dream. He loves to par-tay.

Meyerson: Are you blackmailing me? Jesse: Yeah.

So what do you want?

I want the records of every sniper rifle you sold in the last 12 months.

The sale order shows the gun was shipped to the Pryon Group.

It's a private security firm upstate.

And whoever took that gun used it to shoot Nate.

Michael: If we can find out who had access to that gun,

we can find Nate's killer.

Boom.

Everything there is to know about Jack Vale,

the C.E.O. of the Pryon Group.

Now, the good news is, Vale's security is airtight,

so there's no way that gun just walked off

one of his training facilities.

Which means the man who killed Nate

will be on the books somewhere.

We need to get into their system.

We have approximately a snowball's chance in hell

of getting past that firewall.

Vale's system makes the Pentagon look like Disneyland.

Then we skip the computers and we go directly to Vale.

Sounds good, but how do you approach a guy like that?

Probably best to go in

as someone in the market for private military services.

Do you think that you could set up a dummy corporation?

Sure, but the thing is, even if we get Mike the meeting,

Vale's a guy who hangs out with billionaires,

you know, with a "B."

Well, I was hoping we could talk to your girlfriend,

help me look the part?

I just need to borrow a few accessories.

I hate this so much already.

When you're posing as a potential client

of a private military company, it doesn't pay to be subtle.

A private army is a very high-dollar item,

and the people who rent them tend to be super-rich

and not afraid to show it.

It's an expensive cover I.D.

But if you do it right, it's worth every penny.

You want your target focused less on your credentials

and more on the make of your watch

and the size of your wallet.

Mr. Krueger?

Jack Vale. Good to meet you.

And you must be...

Charles Finley, Mr. Krueger's associate.

This is Andrew Thompson.

He's my regional manager for the eastern seaboard.

He'll be handling the day-to-day of your account.

Thompson: It's good to meet you.

It's a beautiful machine you have there.

You should see it at 180 miles an hour.

Really appreciate you guys coming down to Miami.

No problem at all. How long you all been down here?

I'm surprised I haven't heard of your outfit.

I take that as a compliment.

Not being heard of is part of our business model.

Mine, too.

Well, drinks ain't gonna find us.

Shall we sit?

Sam: We've had insurgents firing on our oil fields

from a mile out, Mr. Vale.

Can your outfit handle that kind of thing?

Engaging at that distance won't be a problem.

Got snipers who can shoot the tail feathers off a hawk

from two miles away.

Perfect. When can I review my personnel options?

That's a bit sticky, I'm afraid.

We've got a strict confidentiality policy.

Protects the employees and the client.

We understand that, sir. We're just not comfortable with it.

Listen, if you want grunts with guns, you don't need Pryon.

I get the best in the world

because they trust me to protect their privacy.

But I promise you,

I can and will build a team that meets your needs.

Mr. Vale, when I'm about to give a man a $42 million contract,

I expect to see what my money pays for.

Now, if you're uncomfortable with that,

I can take my business elsewhere.

That's too bad. Charles.

Vale: Hold on, now. Hold on.

My mama raised a reasonable man.

Tell you what.

I'll have Thompson here

take you around one of our facilities.

South Carolina's training now.

Perfect.

That way you can see how our men prepare for duty.

Should put your minds at ease.

That would be acceptable.

Good. Thompson will be in touch.

Lunch is taken care of.

"Acceptable"?

Mike, unless we happen to run into somebody

with a name tag that says,

"Hi, my name is the guy that killed Nate,"

this tour's gonna be a waste of time.

Maybe not.

Thompson was eyeing my Rolex like he wanted to eat it.

You think he's the weak link?

He looks pretty breakable to me.

Fiona: Hello, Michael.

Fi, how does a weekend in South Carolina sound?

It's not Paris, but there will be lots of guns.

Sounds lovely, but we may not be available.

Guess who just dropped by for a visit -- the CIA.

What? Who?

Manaro and Bailey.

Now, are they not the same two idiots

that nearly got Sam killed?

Put them on speaker.

I don't know what you guys are trying to drag me into.

But, Manaro, forget it. I'm busy.

We're not here to drag you into anything, Westen.

We're here for our newest asset.

Newest asset?

Manaro, what are you talking about?

I'm talking about your girlfriend, Fiona Glenanne.

Burn Notice 6x0 Official Business Original Air Date on August 16, 2012

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

Fi isn't working for you. End of story.

Damn straight.

You guys almost got me killed twice.

And now you're coming after Fi?

Back off. Axe, this is none of your business.

The hell it isn't! She's my friend, too.

And last time I checked,

I'm the resident expert on you two idiots.

You remember Colombia? Do you remember that?

Yeah. Yeah.

I-I remember you shot at me,

pretty much got us kicked out of our jobs... Tied us up, uh...

...stole our helicopter ...For a couple months there.

And then I saved your sorry butts.

And let's not forget,

I got back your damn predator drone.

Oh -- Who loses a predator drone?!

Guys, guys, guys!

You're wrong. Unfortunately.

They can make me work for them.

What are you talking about?

This contract that she signed in order to get out of prison

says she works for the CIA whenever we want.

Maybe Agent Pearce let it slide,

but she's not around anymore.

So, Glenanne either works with us

or she goes back to prison.

Bailey: Any questions?

Good.

This is Vincent Durov.

He runs an aerospace company in the Ukraine,

and he takes his winters here on South Beach.

Manaro: He's dabbled in the black market for years --

spare parts, engines.

But he never sold to terrorists or enemy nations.