You don't know what I know.
Andres Galan has a dark past.
What do you know about the virus?
I had no idea that terrorism was on the agenda.
You need to tell her what she wants to know.
Next time it won't be just one plane.
They're hitting every city at once.
We're talking millions dead in a matter of days.
What are we suppose to do with him?
Let Sayer come to us.
Sayer is an extremely cautious man.
Then put on your game face.
We are celebrating the grand opening
of Dulces Sueños fifth and newest east L.A. location
by slashing prices on every sleep set
in our stores!
Twin sets as low as $99!
Queen sets starting from $199!
So take it from me, Tony "Matador" bravo:
The prices at Dulces Sueños Mattress Stores are no bull.
Ole.
You deserve a better night's sleep,
so hurry in now for the biggest sales event of the year!
Dulces Sueños Mattress Stores,
family owned since 1997.
- Synced and Corrected by peterbrito - - www.addic7ed.com -
So it's in the screw, huh?
It is the screw.
Ugh. Afraid of snakes?
I'm afraid of anything that can unhinge its jaw
and/or swallow a small horse.
Uh, how... how are we looking?
Signal transmissions are strong
from all three camera angles.
If any of Samuel's associates come by, we'll know it.
Great. Let's pack it up.
Weird.
Bookends and no books.
Something wrong?
I think there's something here.
Sweet mother of Anakin.
Guy knew how to dress. Please.
Tim gunn would drop a bomb on this place.
Whoa.
That is fast.
You having fun?
Oh, yeah. This takes me back.
To all the other times you've hacked an on board computer
to remotely drive a dead man's car?
To ghost-riding my huffy into traffic,
so my mom would buy me a real BMX bike.
Caused a four-car pileup.
Huffy came out without a scratch.
Well, for whatever it's worth,
it's nice to have you back in the field.
Nice to be back.
Although I think the whole idea of putting cameras
at Samuel's place might need an extra sprinkling
of lucky fairy dust.
- How do you mean? - Let's face it.
When sayer finds out his disciple went tits-up,
don't you think maybe a part of him is gonna be suspicious,
even if we cover up the cause of death?
That's what I'm counting on.
With Samuel dead, who do you think his first call will be?
Galan.
Here we go.
Take that, huffy.
Van Nostrand, Arguello, and Bravo.
Mador, baby. That's what we need.
Here's hoping a new lineup will keep the terror
on their toes.
Defense, let's talk containment.
Hey. First start, don't screw it up.
Hey, Didi.
Hey, man.
I gotta thank you for putting in the time.
Seems like it's paying off.
Now you have to prove that you belong.
Something tells me you have an idea about that.
What do our opponents know of you?
Apart from the fact that I cracked
their sweeper's septum last month,
probably not much.
Exactly. To Austin, you're an enforcer.
That's it. Exploit that belief.
You've learned a lot, but your greatest asset
you've had all along.
- Speed. - Yes.
Ah, Mr. Big Man, O.C.! What's up, man?
You coming to my postgame party tomorrow?
I got the pool bar, inflatables,
and Duquesne's grotto in full effect.
- I wouldn't miss it. - All right, good boy.
Hey, I reserved a party bus too.
We don't a repeat of what happened yesterday.
- Yesterday? - Didn't you hear?
Galan's tattooed attache had a little accident.
Little?
Dude went heads-up with a 25-ton trash truck.
Lost.
- Samuel? - Mm-hmm.
What, he's dead?
Mm. Shame too.
Such a pretty car.
Yeah.
My agent.
The Sheila?
Well, at least she's returning someone's calls.
Anne, what's up?
Looks like we got Sayer's attention.
Call to galan is incoming.
I got it.
I'm on my way up now.
Tell me something, Andres.
Certainly.
When you look at the triptych on the wall
behind your desk, do you feel anything?
Only sympathy for my bank account.
Yes, I imagine it was a costly imitation.
Imitation? No, this is a custom lufanto.
Art is all imitation, mimesis.
It serves only the ego of the artist, nothing more.
It is the scientist who is the true philosopher.
He who has the power to reform thought,
society, civilization.
And yet art preys upon human weakness,
seducing us to dispense with reason
in favor of passion and whim.
So you see, Andres, why it's imperative my ranks
are populated by men I can trust aren't prone to...
Feeling.
All I feel is discouraged that you would call to,
again, question my commitment.
Of course, I didn't mean to offend you,
and that is not the reason, however, for my call.
- No? - No.
I don't think I can trace this.
He's on the Tor network using onion routing
to obscure his I.P. Address.
Where is Samuel, Andres?
I'm afraid I have bad news about Samuel.
There was an accident.
So I heard. Car crash, was it?
I was going to wait to tell you
until I had more information,
but it seems news travels fast.
I have eyes everywhere, Andres.
Loyal eyes that would rather gouge themselves out
than deceive me.
I want to know more about this plan of yours,
this "common dream" you once spoke of.
I believe I've earned that much.
Maybe you have.
We should discuss this further when you arrive.
Arrive?
I would like Samuel's body returned to me.
And I want you to bring it to me, personally.
I don't suppose Sayer gave his home address?
No, he's being very cautious.
He's sending his own men to retrieve Samuel's body
and Galan at the stadium after the game tomorrow.
Sounds like he trusts Galan even less than I do.
You're not thinking about killing this.
If there's a chance, no matter how small,
Galan can learn the location of the lab where the virus
is being refined, then we need to let him make this trip.
Destroy the lab, we destroy the threat.
Solid strategy, but what if Galan
is being called to his own execution?
If he gets killed before he reaches the lab,
then we're back to square one.
For all we know, Sayer doesn't buy the car crash
and wants Samuel's body for an autopsy.
If putting Galan in harm's way leads us to Sayer's lab,
then so be it.
Our agreement was for his immunity, not for his life.
Remember?
Fine.
But he wears a tracker.
You've got a trip to pack for.
What are you doing here?
A Spartan sacrifices a goat.
A Viking gets piss drunk and dances himself into a rage.
A Macedonian, he marches through the bloody halves
of a freshly bisected dog.
For purification, they say, before entering battle.
Well, let's just hope our next campaign
isn't a total slaughter.
No, I'm good.
If not to partake in the ritual,
what are you doing here, Tony?
You're gonna have to wear a tracker
when you escort the body.
Oh, you can ask me to wear a tracker.
Mm, that's not how it works anymore.
Look, it's for your own protection.
It's what you asked for.
The promise of immunity means very little
when you have as many enemies as I do.
I accepted the deal not for myself, but for senna.
Then I guess we both made deals for our families.
And we gave up all hope of self-protection
when we signed ourselves over to the government.
I do not trust your team or their technology.
My answer is no, and I suggest you make note of why.
The CIA may flex its power in many impressive ways,
but real power lies not in what one says,
but what one omits.
So what are you telling me?
That the CIA is keeping something from me?
Kaibil.
The woman in your dream.
Could that have been what she was screaming at your father?
Kaibil.
A specialized unit of certain Latin American militaries.
A death squad.
Tony, man. We weren't expecting you.
Yeah, I know. Is it okay?
Of course, man, go.
Yeah, a late-night meeting.
Wait, I didn't tell anything to your mom about...
okay.
Baby,
- Hey! - Hey.
What's up?
Tony, this is a surprise.
Is a full house tonight.
I'll make some room for you...
no, javi, it's okay.
He can take my seat. I have to leave anyway.
Mari, como siempre, thank you for dinner.
- Good luck, honey. - Thank you.
Good luck? Good luck with what?
Morales got herself a date.
Oh. Well, have fun.
Thanks. Bye, Tony.
Yeah.
I'll get you a plate.
Rib eye.
Your mom made that Texas marinade
you and I like so much.
I'm on this lean protein diet.
It's not gonna kill you.
I can't do red meat.
There's salad too.
- Thank you. - Mm-hmm.
What's new, sweetheart?
Cristina has a crush on a boy in school.
Mom!
Yeah, ma's spilling all the goods tonight.
What, does he play football?
He's a gamer.
Not everybody likes a jock.
So am I gonna have to have a talk with this young man?
Mm, already grilled him, bro.
Talking real enhanced interrogation.
Oh, what do you think about that plane plague
and all those dead people?
Yeah. Scary.
Scary? Shit's next level.
Look, the government's gonna pump twice
and Jizz Al-Qaeda's name all over this one.
But it ain't Al-Qaeda.
This is swine flu part deux, bro.
That first outbreak... beta bullshit.
Tell me, how does a virus one part human,
one part cow, one part bird,
from three different continents, generate in nature?
It doesn't.
Shit was made in a lab. Guess what.
There ain't no labs in caves, bro.
That's a good point.
Hey, mom.
There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about.
Look, if this is about you walking out
on the Quinceañera, save your breath.
I'm really sorry about that.
Forget it.
There's something bothering you, Tony.
What is it?
It's nothing.
I'm just nervous, I guess.
I'm starting tomorrow.
Oh.
Congratulations, son.
So Galan refused the tracker.
We can't let him travel to Sayer without one.
We have a backup plan?
We do, sir.
If Galan refuses to give us his consent,
we'll simply track him without it.
That's the beauty of conformal electronics.
Meet the Biostamp.
Weighs less than a band-aid
and adheres to human flesh like one.
Nearly invisible digital circuits will upload
Galan's location and vitals directly
to our devices in a constant real-time feed.
Great.
Let me know when you've tagged him.
Deputy Director Smith, welcome.
Thank you, Dr. Hoag.
Everyone, this is Llewyn Smith.
Carter Eames from Menthe & Company,
David Duvall from Kirschner-Sims,
Anza Mazar from J.J.R., Alan Shon from Wasser-Owen,
and Meredith Wright from Valterra Laboratories.
Thank you all for coming on such short notice.
I'm sure you're all acquainted with the incident
on flight 409.
We have reason to believe
this was a botched attempt at bioterrorism,
the weaponized agent being a deadly virus.
Now, the failure of this attack leads us to believe
it won't be the last of its kind.
Does the CIA have a theory on who might've been behind this?
The only "who" you need to concern yourself with now
are the victims.
Now, frankly, our government lacks the resources to create
a medical countermeasure in a timely fashion,
so we must turn to the private sector,
and that's where you come into play.
We need a vaccine to combat the threat of this virus,
and we need it soon.
Otherwise...
This will be our future.
All right, listen up!
Bring it in here, come on. Let's go.
Gather round, everybody. Come on, bring it in here.
I was up all night crafting a rousing,
impassioned speech to light a fire under your asses.
But as luck would have it, Mr. Galan has informed me
that my pregame services won't be necessary today.
Mr. Galan.
Thank you, Ernest. Thank you.
Gentlemen, it's no secret that our rivalry
with the Terror is one in name only.
In reality, it has become an endless cycle of defeat.
Now, this is not a dig at you.
It's as much my fault as it is yours.
They control us, dictating every play in our heads
like a parasite.
But it doesn't have to be that way.
Why should it?
They're no better than us, and we're the Riot.
Now, while I can't be with you on the field,
I hope that my words will echo onto the pitch
and fill your hearts.
And always remember my faith in you.
So go out there.
Rid yourselves of this spell the Terror have over us.
Ruin their perfect season.
Taste the sweetness of revenge,
and take back Los Angeles for the Riot!
We are Riot till we die!
We're Riot till we die!
We're born to fight! We go all night!
We're Riot till we die!
Ahh!
Hell yeah! Let's go, Riot, baby!
Let's get it!
You getting salty, bro?
There's no shame in shedding a tear
after a man has bared his soul.
It's no different than having a cry after a shag.
We'll do this, Mr. Galan.
Thank you, Mr. Galan. Great speech.
Thank you, Mr. Galan.
Pleasure, Mr. Galan.
- Mr. Galan, wait up. - Yes, Tony?
Listen, I hate doing this, but, um, do you mind?
My brother Ricky, he's just been on my ass
about increasing my social media presence.
Just keeping up appearances.
Yes. I suppose we both are.
Let me see.
Broadcasting live from Andres Galan.
There we go.
Thanks. Okay.
Oh, bravo, Bravo.
- Hey. - Hey.
Where have you been?
I've been calling you for, like, two weeks.
I've been here.
Look, I know we've kept our relationship status
pretty casual, but it still sucks to be ignored.
Sorry. Guess I've been distracted.
It's okay.
Just return a text once in a while.
I mean, I haven't seen you
since your whole hard drive meltdown situation,
and now they've got some blonde bimbo
filling in for you at the games, so I got worried.
I'm fine.
Just needed time to figure a few things out.
Good.
I hope you have.
You sure there's nothing I can do?
Yeah.
Okay. Guess I'll see you around.
Good-bye, Silda.
You know me as Reyna Flores,
but that's not my real name.
We are seconds away from the opening whistle here
in sunny L.A., where the question, of course,
on everyone's mind is, can the Riot find some way
to break out of their seemingly eternal slumber
against the defending champion, Austin Terror?
Hoping for a spark, the Riot will give rookie Tony Bravo
his first start.
Although his play has come on of late,
Bravo is most famous for the trail of injury
he's left in his wake.
Look no further than all-star defender Alfredo Rodriguez,
who's still recovering from their previous encounter
a few weeks back.
We're set for the kickoff.
Let's go down to the center circle,
the Riot to get us started.
Holester flicks back to Heddo,
who finds Orosco.
Now through to Bravo,
spying for a path.
He finds Caesar, breaking clear.
Arguello dancing with the ball around stockton.
He plays it ahead,
through to Holester with some oomph.
Can he finish? Oh!
High and mighty, but not even close to on goal.
Come on.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Heartbeat's elevated.
No, he's probably just reacting to this.
Terrible first touch.
Holester's gotta pull his head out of his ass.
Premier league washout, huh?
Stuck with him for how many more seasons?
Holester's true value is in his leadership.
Aw, admit it... you took a gamble,
and now you're too proud to cut your losses.
Gene, for a man who owns half of Las Vegas,
you seem strangely unwilling to embrace the virtues of risk.
I'm just breaking balls, Andres.
All right? Your team's great.
They look great.
The Lamarck Foundation.
Um, I don't know what that is.
Yes, you do.
Gene, I am one of you.
It's true.
In fact, I was talking to Sayer just yesterday.
Sayer.
And he told you about me?
No.
I found out about you from a newly reliable source.
Soon, I'll be getting other names as well.
There's a list.
A list?
There isn't supposed to be a list.
That's the whole point.
I know.
You know about flight 409?
About the virus?
Flight 409?
You're not saying that was him.
Why?
Population control. What else?
This is not a plan I could endorse.
I don't imagine it's one you could either.
We're businessmen, you and I.
Sayer is something else.
A fanatic hiding behind noble aspirations.
The time has come to reevaluate our leadership.
You're talking about a coup.
That's rather dramatic.
Not as dramatic as what would happen to us
if he found out.
He won't.
Andres, even if you were to gain support,
it's suicide
as long as Sayer's alive.
That's a situation I plan to address.
Entering the 28th minute now,
the score is still knotted at zero,
in itself a victory for those of you familiar
with recent Austin-L.A. history.
Lee drops it along to the defender stockton.
Up to hauser on the near edge, but hold on and ole!
Here's Tony Bravo with the steal!
Has this kid ever been in the thick of it today!
I like that kid.
Andres.
We'll be in touch.
Approaching the 43 minute now.
Arguello with the throw-in and a real opportunity here
for the Riot to push forward.
Some jockeying for position at midfield.
Bravo breaks free.
Rodriguez sees it too.
Oh, and a vicious elbow there.
No goals yet today,
but first blood certainly goes to the terror.
Action on the field now as the Riot
rallies to their teammate's defense.
And you have to believe the referee
will pull out the book after that hit.
And there it is.
Alfredo Rodriguez, Hannibal mask and all,
has sent Tony Bravo reeling,
and he'll receive a yellow for his efforts.
What a knock!
Play resuming with two minutes added
as Bravo is being patched up.
I wouldn't be surprised
if he sits out these remaining moments.
The Riot, more than pleased to head into the half
with the score even.
All right, we'll stitch you up at the half.
Arguello with the free kick from outside the box.
Oh, some miscommunication there on the cross
and an easy collect for the goalie, Lee,
who tosses it ahead, hoping to catch the Riot in transition.
Possession play by Austin.
Pearl and Marquez trading.
L.A. trying to force them into a mistake.
Beautifully anticipated and stolen by Van Nostrand.
Holester calls for it.
Arguello freeing himself for the lead pass,
which might be too strong.
But no, Bravo is back,
and check out those wheels!
He's past the defense,
no one between him and the goal.
Takes it nearside.
- Ahh! - Goal!
The Matador has done it!
His first goal and only seconds before the whistle.
The Riot, so strong all half,
are finally rewarded with the sweetest of finishes!
We head to the lockers on a wave of adrenaline.
One-nothing, L.A. over Austin.
Yes?
You want to make the transfer now?
It's only halftime.
Yes.
Yes, I understand.
You know you could have waited till the end of the game
to sing my praises.
Bravo, shut the hell up and listen to me.
Whoa, all right. I'm all ears.
Galan just gave us the heads-up.
The hand-off's going down early.
Samuel's body is already down there for transfer.
Our tracker is still up, but Smith wants eyes
on the pickup to ensure we're not being played.
Well, aren't there cameras down there?
I don't think I have anothered card in me.
We've checked... the nearest camera
is well out of the relevant area.
Tony!
Okay. I got it.
Welcome back to socal, where the score may only read
one-nothing, but this crowd is still smelling blood
off the momentum of Tony Bravo's stoppage-time score,
although you'd have to wonder about his status
after suffering brutal vengeance at the hands of Terror defender,
Alfredo Rodriguez.
Can you tell me where we're headed?
Or for how long?
The weather, maybe?
Can you at least nod if my footwear is appropriate?
Give me something.
Yeah, two minutes out. Rolling and heavy.
What are you doing here?
Whoa, getting a big spike in heart rate here.
Something's happening.
Bravo, E.T.A.?
I'm close.
Guys, you better take a look at this.
- Kind of ocupado here. - It's off the digital dragnet.
We intercepted a video before it made it to the web.
It's some sort of manifesto about Galan.
She was trying to go wide with it.
Wait, who?
Ms. Flores,
what are you doing?
The only thing I can do, apparently.
But for what?
Not for what, for who.
Ricardo Molinez.
No, no, wait, wait!
Tony, what's going on down there?
Galan's blood pressure's bottoming out.
His respiratory rate's up.
Tony, where's Galan?
Reyna!
Tony.
Stay with me. I got you.
Annie, Galan's been shot.
It was Reyna Flores.
- Is this making any sense? - It's starting to.
Tony, you need to get out of there.
No, we can't give up now.
- The tracker, can I reuse it? - No, negative!
If you remove the tracker now, it's useless.
Tony, just go! We're sending a medical team!
You're missing the second half.
It's okay. Don't worry, sir.
Look at me.
The boys are gonna bring home a "W."
Tony, go. Go.
Por favor, call an ambulance.
Forget him. We're paid to deliver the package.
Where the hell's Tony Bravo?
You know me as Reyna Flores, but that's not my real name.
My name is Valeria Molinez.
By now, you know what I've done.
Here's why.
When I was 15, my father was murdered.
His case was closed almost as fast
as the blade scored his throat.
I vowed to find the person responsible
and make them pay.
I spent years compiling a case against that person.
One Andres Galan,
CEO of Unafonica and owner of the L.A. Riot.
On its face, his rise is
an inspiring immigrant success story,
but under the surface,
it's a tale of lies, corruption, and murder.
As Unafonica grew, so did Galan's appetite for power.
When my father, Ricardo Molinez, championed a movement
to unionize the Telecom Industry in Mexico,
Galan had him killed.
The world deserves to know the truth
about those in power doing evil.
Today, I give you the truth about Andres Galan,
my enemy who has now become my teacher.
He offered me a quote once for an interview,
a quote that now guides me on my present course:
"Never pray for that which you have the power
to execute yourself."
Andres, it is my honor.
What a waste.
Gave her life for a story no one's ever gonna hear.
Hey, going off script is Bravo's specialty.
He'll be fine.
Kaibil!
- Synced and Corrected by peterbrito - - www.addic7ed.com -