Elsbeth

Picture this: this guy invites you

to a quiet dinner at his home.

The candles are lit, you're drinking

a $10,000 bottle of Bordeaux.

Yeah, he said the price because he's a billionaire.

Like "owns a private island" rich.

When, out of nowhere, he freaks out and pulls you

into this creepy, apocalyptic dungeon...

I, uh, I thought you were neutralizing this.

Oh, the post has already been wiped from social media.

The problem is, you haven't told me everything.

I have, and that's a fallacy,

'cause nothing is ever totally wiped from the Internet.

Fortunately, it's not a Me Too situation,

and she's a nobody with fewer than 10,000 followers.

Besides that, she doesn't name you specifically.

Okay, any Neanderthal

with a keyboard is gonna figure it out.

And you know what? They're gonna try,

'cause my company has a 20% share

in the digital wallet business.

All right? That's $1.2 trillion in revenue.

And I promised that I'd get it to 30% within two years.

So the board cannot find out about this.

-Okay? -That's why we're creating a counternarrative here.

But in order to do that effectively,

you got to tell me exactly what happened.

My God, I already have told you exactly what happened.

I saved that woman from an attempted break-in.

An actual break-in?

Yes. The mayoral election is going on

and the crazies are coming out of the woodwork.

And they are hell-bent on making us feel guilty

about generating wealth and creating entire industries.

Right, right, okay. So you're having dinner

and suddenly there's crazies at the door--

you know, boom, boom, boom-- and you take Emily where?

The safe room.

Which she called the "apocalyptic dungeon."

Yeah, this girl is drama.

Come here, I'm gonna show you.

Come.

I see. It's like a, it's like a bomb shelter

or a-a nuclear, nuclear bunker kind of thing.

No, no, no. My bunker's in New Zealand.

This is a riot retreat for social unrest.

I mean, given the current "eat the rich" zeitgeist,

I need to take precautions.

I'm starting to see why you let the rest of the staff go.

Well, it's nothing A.I. can't do better.

And A.I. won't turn on me as fast.

Right. Okay. So...

You pull Emily in here, you-you lock the doors

and you take cover for a couple of minutes?

Mm-mm. Like four hours.

Did she appear to be afraid at any point?

Afraid? Here?

This place was designed to obliterate intruders.

I showed her everything.

I showed her my remote-controlled drones

that shoot bullets,

I showed her my smoke screen launchers,

the molecular friction apparatus that generates enough heat

to microwave a human body.

It can microwave people?

Yeah.

That's a little diabolical, don't you think?

Diabolical?

No, no, no, I mean, it's clearly a genius idea.

No.

No, I've seen that look.

Daddy taught me that's the look of a traitor.

And this isn't the ketamine talking, Anders.

-Craig, just hold on a minute. -No, no, no. You didn't come here

to defend me against that nutjob, did you?

You came here to take information back to the board.

Craig.

No, no, no, don't-don't pretend.

I know things about you.

I know that you're leaving crisis management.

Craig, I may have mentioned the possibility

of making a pivot.

You know, destroying people's reputations

takes a-a lot out of a person.

The pressure's a lot. You understand.

Your ex says that you're isolating in here more and more.

You talk to Kelly about me?

I'm just saying I'm concerned.

Oh, you're so concerned that you're gonna have me ousted

from the company that I built?

You are supposed to be defending me!

Craig, I am defending you.

I'm defending you against that woman,

against the former intern,

- your family... - I cannot believe

I did not see this before.

This is...

This-- ah, I got to think about this.

-I got to take some time. -Hey, you know what?

We can discuss this at another time!

Craig.

Craig?

Craig, what are you doing?

Craig?

Ow.

Are you trying to microwave me?

Craig, you-you can't.

It's getting really hot.

Let me out of here!

Craig, you have to open the door.

Craig, you can't do this.

Craig?

-What? -Listen, Craig.

- Come on. - If you let me out of here now,

there's no story.

I'll act as-as if nothing ever happened.

But if you try to hurt me,

that's gonna be a lot harder to spin.

Oh, man, I should've tested it on the rabbit.

Craig.

What is my mother's birthday? God!

What?

Oh, my God.

How do you work this damn drone? Come on.

You know what?

I've got some minor burns, but...

...if you let me out now,

I won't go to see a doctor.

I-I will take care of it quietly.

I know how to do that.

All you have to do is open the door.

Good morning, Elsbeth Tascioni.

Oh, Alec.

What are you doing here?

Does the campaign trail run through the precinct?

I was in the neighborhood.

Also, I'm going to a fundraiser

for the renovation of the city law library tonight

and I wanted to ask you to go with me.

Me, as in "the mysterious redhead"

recently seen with Alec Bloom?

You believe in law and libraries, right?

I'm just not sure I'm comfortable

being gossip fodder.

The press won't be there. Come on.

It's not that simple.

Why, did, uh, Marissa say something to you?

Marissa says a lot of things.

Yes, she does, but...

you and I are consenting adults

and we can go somewhere together

without having to ask permission from anyone.

So this wasn't her idea?

I'm asking you because I, I genuinely enjoy your company.

But if you don't want to be seen with me ever again,

I'll-I'll respect that.

I won't like it, but I'll respect it.

Ooh, you are really laying on the charm, aren't you?

Is it working?

Yes.

Good. Marissa will text the details.

- We'll have fun. - Okay.

Like I mentioned before,

the neighbor said the dog

-was barking all night long. -Dog?

Oh. Shoot.

Well, we'll send it over to Animal Control...

- Animal Control? - What kind of dog is it?

Sounded like a poodle, if I had to guess.

Uh, the bark was a little yippy,

like a small dog trying to sound big.

Yeah, some poodles do that.

And some people.

This is Stu. He's a...

-Uh, what is it again? -Oh, I'm a skip tracer.

That's an insider term for process server.

Well, I guess there's an insider term for everything.

I've got a 100% success rate,

and I can't find this guy Anders Wittman anywhere.

I've staked out his office, his home.

Stu thinks he's missing.

Maybe he's intentionally dodging you.

I told him the same thing.

I would have thought so, too, if it wasn't for that dog.

The neighbor says that dog never barks.

I'm telling you, something's not right.

Fine.

We'll send an officer out to check on the dog.

But a barking dog

doesn't warrant a missing persons investigation.

We thought you might say that, which is why

we did a little research.

What if we told you that this Anders Wittman

is a fixer at the Meridian Group?

The crisis management firm?

Those people are worse than lawyers.

Uh, no offense, but they've destroyed more cases

than I care to admit.

Wait, really? Or is that hyperbole?

It's true. They've intimidated assault victims,