Grew up in the military,
worked in the military. Always told where to go,
when to be there. I want to see my country
on my own terms. Motels,
cash, fake names, travel light.
You get used to it.
So far, a run on his prints has been clean,
but something could still turn up.
No driver's license,
mortgage, insurance claims.
No online profile at all.
The only proof Jack Reacher exists is the fact
that he's sitting in that room.
Took out a few men in the course of your duties.
All ruled good kills.
Commanded the 110th
Special Investigations Unit of the Military Police.
100,000 years ago,
there were people who stayed by the campfire
and people who wandered.
I'm pretty sure I'm a direct descendant
of the wandering type.
It's just who I am.
What am I supposed to do with these?
Wash them and sell them. You're a thrift store.
You buying anything?
What I'm wearing.
Jeans, T-shirt, jacket, socks, boxers.
$22.
- Eleven. - Yeah, Doug was supposed
to take that down a few days ago. It's $22.
If you knew they were supposed to come down,
- why didn't you do it? - 'Cause it's Doug's job.
There's an ATM across the street.
I'll leave you my passport so you know I'm not running off.
Don't care if you do.
This job is shit.
Sorry, I have to make another withdrawal.
Don't turn around. I can help you.
Keep taking out money.
That minivan to my left… that yours?
Yes.
Just for clarity, you've been carjacked, right?
My child is in the back seat.
Gun?
Yes.
Stay here.
This won't take long.
Come on…
Your mom better hurry the fuck up, kid,
or this is gonna go bad for both of you.
Hi.
- Want to see your mom? - It's okay.
It's okay.
Come here. It's okay. I mean, I'm here.
Oh, baby.
That guy will be out for a while.
Go in the bank, call the cops, give them these.
- Gun's in the car. - Wait.
Who are you?
Someone who prefers not getting involved.
Here's $30.
Need a new jacket.
What's wrong with the one you just bought?
It has blood on it.
Can I use your phone?
I just got a message from a friend.
"Tammi Cates"?
Let me guess. Bank teller,
diner waitress, thrift shop cashier?
Third one. I got your message.
110th. 10-30.
A distress call.
Distress call and airfare.
I need you to come to New York ASAP.
Why?
Calvin Franz was murdered.
I'll let you know when I land.
Major Reacher.
Hello, sir.
Just Reacher.
I didn't tell you to bring anything.
Oh, um, just some office supplies,
in case there was any start-up paperwork needed to be done.
- I hate paperwork. - That's okay,
I don't mind doing any clerical there might be, sir.
- Reacher. - Uh, r-right. Reacher.
Um, I hope you don't mind my asking,
what exactly am I doing here?
- Want out already, Franz? - No, sir.
Um, Reacher. Uh, no.
I-I don't. I'm just curious is all.
Saw you a few weeks ago by your barracks.
Stopped a couple soldiers from beating the hell
of each other over a stolen care package from home.
Last cookie in the box, actually.
One cookie?
- Yeah. - Even dumber.
Bottom line, you negotiated a fair settlement,
cracked a few jokes, de-escalated the conflict.
Got a decent head on you.
Might come in handy.
Okay, I got to ask, what the hell kind of unit
did Major Reacher put together here, huh?
We got a bean counter from Accounting Services,
a gas jockey from bulk fuel,
we got Dave Matthews,
Grandpa Moses and, uh,
a couple of guys from, uh… where y'all from?
I've seen you in Requisitions, right?
We've got names.
Sanchez and Orozco.
Which one's Orozco?
And who are you, besides a guy who talks too much?
David O'Donnell.
And no offense, Pops, but, uh, why are you here?
Isn't there a CBS drama you're missing?
Lowrey won the Army Marksmanship competition
six times, both pistol and rifle class.
I've got a rule.
Plans go to hell soon as first shot's been fired,
so your first shot better be your best shot.
I'm the only non-Marine to win
the USMC 1,000 Yard Invitational, and I still know
Lowrey gives us our best first shot.
You think this unit's gonna come under a lot of fire?
Maybe.
Then why'd you grab a bunch of people
with no police experience, Major Reacher?
- Reacher. - Reacher.
Sorry.
Army wanted a unit for particularly
complex matters when they arose.
To do that, I need special investigators, not generic MPs.
If we're so special, why did they stick us in this dump?
I mean, what is up with this place?
Few years ago, Uncle Sam made an auction bid
for some land down the road.
Entered the address backwards and became the proud owners
of this building and the contents
of the now-defunct Callahan Insurance Agency.
But you're right.
Place could work a little better.
Straighten up these boxes, move these old tanker desks
to the middle of the room.
Let's go. You don't have to call me "Major,"
but you do have to move your ass when I say so.
Get to it.
Go backwards.
Okay, you want me to go backwards?
- I'm going backwards. - Go back.
Lift with your legs, man!
- No one lifts with their legs. - On three. One, two, three, go.
You're doing it wrong.
I'm doing it exactly how you told me to.
You think we're actually gonna be able to work together?
No idea.
But I could use a beer.
Tell them I'm buying.
Reacher.
Neagley.
Thanks for ordering.
Still steam coming off the cup.
Tracked the plane online, saw it landed early,
you don't check bags and I adjusted for traffic.
Had the coffee poured 90 seconds ago.
Food's been there three minutes.
Appreciated.
Where'd you get this?
I'm a PI. I can get things.
Been a minute since Margrave.
Been two years, seven months, 19 days.
You look good.
I look the same.
You looked good two years, seven months,
19 days ago, so, yeah.
You look the same.
You look… road-worn.
Yep.
So, Franz.
Give me the Cliff Notes.
Went missing after leaving his home in Brooklyn
about a week or so ago.
Body was found in the Catskill Mountains.
Whole force up there is, like, 20 cops.
And since Franz disappeared in the city,
NYPD's taking the lead.
How'd you find out?
Got a call from Angela.
Franzy's widow.
- Franz was married? - Yeah.
Fun wedding. Chocolate fountain.
He had a son, too.
What? Life moves on when you're away, big fella.
- What else? - Franz left me a few messages
in the days before his disappearance.
Said he wanted to bounce some stuff off of me
about a case he was chasing down.
I was so tied up with my own work,
I kept meaning to get back to him, but…
before I could, Angela reached out
and told me he'd been murdered.
It's not your fault.
- I know. - He wasn't just murdered.
He was tortured.
Nothing but mucus in his stomach.
Dehydrated. No food, no water.
Chucked out of a plane.
They didn't throw him from a plane.
He was found in the middle of nowhere with injuries
consistent with a fall from 3,000 feet.
An airplane has a stall speed of what?
80 miles an hour? 100, tops?
They would've shoved him out of the door's plane horizontally
into the slipstream.
He'd bang into the wing or tail.
There'd be perimortem injuries and there aren't.
He was thrown from a helicopter.
His broken legs weren't from the fall, anyway.
Because?
Look at his blood work.
Full of free histamines. Massive pain reaction.
You don't get these kind of levels from injuries
sustained at the time of death.
Broken legs were a few days old.
That's why ferrous oxide powder was found in his pants fabric.
He was hit with a rusty iron bar.
- Must've hurt like hell. - Yep.
He was tortured for either revenge or information.
When they were done with him, they dumped him from the sky
to avoid ballistics.
Couple of college kids wandered off their hiking trail,
saw the body.
If not for them, who knows when he would've been found?
So, next steps?
If he was calling you for help, he may have been trying
to get in touch with the rest of the unit.
Probably failed.
I called O'Donnell, Dixon,
Sanchez and Orozco. No one's answering.
No listed number for Swan.
Even my office can't find it.
Always a private guy.
What about Lowrey?
Killed two years ago in a car accident in Montana.
Funeral was sad, but…
it was good to see the gang again.
Guess life ends when you're away, too.
Franz's wedding, Lowrey's funeral.
No one told me.
No phone, no address.
You could've sent me an emergency
ATM message like today.
First off, I just thought of that.
Second, it wasn't really an emergency.
The emergency was the moment the pickup hit Lowrey.
And be honest,
would you really have travelled all the way to Montana
from Texas or Maine or wherever you were at the time
just to look at a body in a box?
No.
So I'll ask again. Next steps?
You really want to let some other cops
handle our dead friend's case?
That's what I thought.
Let's go see Franzy's widow.
She just met up with the big one.
You've reached David O'Donnell.
I'm not around; leave a message. I'll call you back.
O'Donnell. This is Reacher with another 10-30.
Neagley and I are staying at the Vale Hotel in Brooklyn.
Get off your ass and call us back.
So, we can't call Swan.
O'Donnell, Sanchez and Orozco still don't answer.
And the receptionist at Dixon's office says
she can't say where Dixon is or when she'll return.
Probably an undercover job.
Maybe.
Or maybe they're all in trouble, too.
Mikey.
Go find your crayons and do some coloring time, okay?
Please sit.
Sorry it took me so long to disengage.
It's just hard to get my sister off the phone.
She calls every hour. My own personal suicide watch.
Sorry. That was, uh, morbid.
I shouldn't have said that.
After what you've been through,
you can say whatever you want.
Can't believe how much your son looks like Franzy.
I called him Franzy, too.
Which one of you gave him that name again? I forgot.
O'Donnell.
Right. David O'Donnell.
And he used to call you The Big Guy.
My God, did Calvin ever tell me stories about you all.
I know he loved me and Mikey more than anything,
but from the way he talked, I don't think he ever
had any more fun than his years spent with the 110th.
I don't know about that.
Ever since you guys got together,
whenever I talked to him, he seemed joyful.
Happier than I ever knew him.
Thank you f-for saying that.
I know the police have already asked you a million questions,
but do you think you could walk us through the time line?
Sure.
I was away with Mikey in Provo,
helping my sister with our mom.
Early-onset dementia.
I tried Calvin for a few days, and no return calls.
It's not like him, so I started to worry.
Called NYPD, they just said he could've been out
on a case because he was a PI
or maybe he was out partying
because his wife and kid were out of town.
Do you think that's what he was doing?
Out partying with the wrong crowd?
Cal would call if he was gonna be ten minutes late for dinner.
And he didn't party with anybody.
So I got so worried,
I came back early to find our home ransacked.
Nothing was taken.
The cops have no idea who did it.
Were you aware of any cases Franz may have been working on?
He never brought work home.
He said when he was here,
he wanted to be 100% present
for me, and Mikey.
I'm sorry. I want to help.
It's just so hard.
Every day hurts.
Just a few more questions.
Promise.
Okay.
What was his client base like?
Wall Street types. CEOs, the hedge fund crowd.
Any of them particularly rough?
Causing him problems? Stressing him out?
No. Not at all. Once Mikey came along,
he stopped doing the dangerous jobs.
Or so I thought.
Were any other members of the 110th working with him?
I don't know. Maybe there's something in his office.
Sign on the door is Three Rivers Consulting and Associates.
It's 103 Flatbush. It was trashed, too.
The cops couldn't find anything there,
but from what Franzy always told me,
the Special Investigators weren't any old group of cops.
You do not mess with the Special Investigators.
Your daddy teach you that?
Do you want to know how your dad became a Special Investigator?
He stopped a fight between two huge soldiers
because one of them thought the other had stolen
the last homemade cookie sent to him from his mom.
Your dad got them to shake hands and be friends again.
And this guy, right here,
he wanted your dad to be part of the 110th because…
…he saw a man who stayed cool when things got heated.
That's how we became friends with your dad.
Okay.
You know Franz ate the cookie.
- Thought it was for everyone? - Yup.
I'm pretty sure that black sedan halfway down the street
was outside the diner, too.
There's a black sedan on every street in America. Get in.
Did the manager talk?
Nah, I paid off the concierge.
He ID'd Neagley as checking in under the name Sarah Conner
and, uh, paying for an adjoining room
using the name Starlin Castro.
That must be for the Hulk.
Starlin Castro played for the Yankees, six or seven years ago.
And who's Sarah Conner?
I don't give a shit.
Just keep an eye on that hotel…
and them.
Copy that.
Pretty modest for a guy with Wall Street business.
Unpretentious.
Close to home so he can spend more time with his family.
Exact kind of place Franzy would choose.
Angela wasn't kidding when she said trashed.
They probably didn't find anything.
How do you know that?
You don't go to this length if you found
what you needed right away.
And they left pissed.
They weren't looking for anything
behind this glass window,
but they put that phone through it.
That's an act of frustration
by someone who didn't find what they wanted.
Whatever they wanted was small.
You don't snap chair legs in half to see
if they've been hollowed out unless you're looking
for something that can fit in there.
Hey.
Check this out.
Seems like yesterday.
Keychain?
Franz was sharp, right?
Very sharp.
So if he was dealing with something
that could get him killed,
he'd have to put it in a place that was very secure,
but readily available.
Somewhere in plain sight that we see every day,
but a place no one would suspect.
Okay.
So what's a place that's readily available
that we entrust every day with very important items?
This is a mailbox key.
I ever tell you you're smart, Neagley?
Not nearly enough.
Shit. It's after 5:00.
10,000 combinations if it's a four-number code.
- No point in trying. - Good.
Hate guessing passwords.
We'll have to come back tomorrow.
So, what do we do now?
Gin.
I don't even know why I play.
'Cause you hold out hope you'll beat me.
I won a few hands.
If you let me win, I'm gonna be pissed.
I don't let you win.
I pace myself.
Not in your professional life.
Don't follow.
Rental car's a Range Rover,
killer hotel rooms,
sent me airfare like it was nothing.
You're doing well.
Clearly not pacing yourself in your professional life.
Not to brag, but the term "wunderkind"
has been tossed around the office.
Two promotions in the past two years.
They're opening a satellite office in St. Louis.
Offered me director if I wanted it.
But I like being in the field too much.
Doing what?
Mostly investigative work for high-income individuals.
Government entities, family offices, that kind of thing.
Once in a while we do a pro bono case.
Missing kids, stolen artwork…
So, it's not just about the money.
It feels good.
What about you?
Saw a minor league game in Sioux Falls a while back.
Riveting.
See it with anyone else?
No.
Did you, uh…
talk to anyone at the game?
I ordered a beer.
Okay.
Speaking of talking to people,
when you went out to get gas, I tried everyone again.
Radio silence.
Who'd you call the most?
Sanchez? Orozco? O'Donnell?
Or… Dixon?
She has an answering service.
Instead of leaving a voice mail,
there's someone to actually talk to.
Right. 'Cause we just established
how much you like talking to people.
Shut up.
It's okay.
It was always obvious you guys had a thing for each other.
Did you ever sleep together?
No.
Why not?
Wouldn't have been appropriate.
You were the same rank.
I ran the team.
Not appropriate.
But you found her attractive.
- Who wouldn't? - Me.
I don't find anyone attractive.
Gin.
I'm going to bed.
I'll pay you back for the room and flight and everything.
I get my pension deposit in about a week.
Not necessary. I wouldn't have my career
if I hadn't matriculated at the School of Reacher.
Consider it past-due tuition.
Something tells me you would've figured it out without me.
Besides, it's a little weird
having my Master Sergeant carrying my tab.
I'll get us square.
- Night, Neagley. - Night, Reacher.
For you.
- Here you go. Enjoy. - Thank you.
Well, here's to a lively bunch.
Should've brought your banjo.
Well, I think after this round,
I'm gonna head back to Accounting.
Still have some paperwork I need to finish.
Mm.
But we just got here.
I know.
If you don't mind me asking,
who directed you to field this team, sir?
I don't mind you asking.
I do mind you calling me "sir."
You outrank me.
You're a Master Sergeant. Almost everyone outranks you.
You're not supposed to be drinking in uniform.
We're not drinking.
We were drinking.
Then you interrupted us.
She doesn't belong here.
It's the Army. Do any of us really belong here?
You some kind of smart guy?
Smarter than you.
I'm also a man with a rule.
People leave me and my pals alone,
I leave them alone.
They don't, I don't.
I thought his rule was plans go to hell
when the first shot's fired.
It's an officers' club. No enlisted.
How about I just finish my beer
and I'll be on my way, okay, sir?
How about you be quiet? There are adults are talking.
Now it's either she leaves,
or we drag you all out by your asses.
I'm providing you an opening because I promised my mother
I'd give dumb guys like you a chance to walk away.
We got 12.
You got nine.
Well, that's a shame.
You're at least three short.
I thought I was done when that guy got me in a headlock.
Yeah, brother. Here, give me some more ice, call it even.
All right, hot dogs are up in five.
Fresh one?
Cheers.
You know, uh, I shouldn't've been at the officers' club.
I know.
Then why get into a fight over it?
He didn't ask nicely.
You and I are gonna be pals, aren't we, Reacher?
Already are, Neagley.
Hungry?
Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Real quick.
Tonight, the boys of the 91st
learned a very important lesson.
And what did they learn? Hmm?
That you do not mess with the Special Investigators!
You do not mess with the Special Investigators!
Hooah!
You knew that was gonna happen tonight.
I knew the 91st like to drink on Thursday nights.
And that they're sticklers for the rules.
And that they're assholes.
But now…
I know they can all work together.
Photo op to commemorate our first day as a unit.
- You. Fire. Go. - Okay.
How about I just take it?
Ah, no, man, I got it.
No. No, you're not getting out of it that easy. Come on.
Come on.
I got this.
Okay, guys, four seconds.
Whoa, take it easy on your osteoporosis.
Ah, kiss my ass, young blood.
Okay, night's still young, Swan.
Get back to strumming, baby.
- "Free Bird"! - Whoo!
Hell no.
No Skynyrd, no Zeppelin, no Hendrix, no Who.
I like my music lighter.
But never fear, after I take a leak,
you're about to get a little taste of "Crocodile Rock."
- Can't wait, can't wait. - Hey, Reacher.
They tossed me from a helicopter, Reacher.
What are you gonna do about it?
Welcome to Los Angeles International Airport.
Passengers, please have passports ready…
Reason for your visit, Mr. Mount?
Oh, Adrian, please.
Um, I'm here to sightsee.
Universal Studios, Walk of Fame, Mann's Chinese.
You know, I'm a bit of an Old Hollywood fanatic.
Anything to declare?
I have nothing to declare.
Enjoy your stay, sir.
Okay, thanks.
We'll keep you posted.
Angela has no idea which PO Box belonged to Calvin
and the post office won't give her that information
until the estate has been settled
because the box was in his company's name.
Should we check his office again for mail?
We were thorough. Nothing in there with a box number on it.
We can't just go in there and start trying boxes.
They'll call the cops and we'll wind up
with federal mail tampering charges.
Then let's think this through.
Like 89% of the world, Franz is right-handed,
so he probably asked for a box on the right when you enter.
Humans favor their dominant side.
He gets public records sent to him,
surveillance photos, so he's gonna need one of the big boxes.
I'll start with them, see which one's packed with mail
since Franz hasn't made a pickup in a while.
I just need a distraction.
Copy that.
Hey, how goes it… Albert?
I am a hard-core philatelist
and I have been fully aflutter about this new batch of stamps
- that were recently issued… - Which run?
We've got, uh, Desert Flowers,
uh, State Birds and the World of Anime.
- All of 'em. - Oh.
I've got a bunch of Susan Bs jingling in my pocket
and I'm ready to spend 'em.
Um, okay.
There's at least two dozen of these, uh, cartoons.
If you're not familiar with anime, I believe it's Japanese.
You don't say.
Oh, and uh…
the State Birds are spectacular.
But never gonna get 50 different species.
The Western Meadowlark represents six different states.
Oh.
Excuse me.
Excuse me. Can I get to my box?
Yeah, sure.
Sir, is that your key?
Yeah, I just… can't remember which box is mine.
Sir, this man is using a key that isn't his.
- What are you, the mail police? - Sir, can I help you?
- Could you show me the Flowers, Al? - Sir.
All good here.
No, sir, I'm gonna need some ID that ties you to that box.
You know what? I'll take all of them.
How about that?
Here we go.
No problem.
Just got my boxes confused.
You know what, Al? I think I'll pass.
What do we got?
Bills, solicitations…
Potential.
Looks like your post office hunch worked.
I ever tell you you're smart, Neagley?
Not nearly enough.
We need to see what's on this.
Damn it. My laptop has a different port.
I got to go pick up an adapter.
Do me a favor.
Order up a ride on one of those phone app things.
I need to borrow your car.
You know Franz was killed over this hard drive
and now you want to go get a gun.
Yup.
But first…
I need to go to church.
Excuse me.
I was wondering if I could ask for some help.
Well, that is what we give here.
I'm looking for my cousin.
He has a really bad drug problem
and a family friend said they saw him
living on the street around here.
I'm sorry to hear that.
Well, thank you.
I promised my aunt I wouldn't come back home
without her son.
I don't know where to even begin looking.
And I thought maybe the church
has a support group or something, and…
through that, maybe you'd have some idea
where Jimmy was scoring?
The devil did his best work
when he created that poison, didn't he?
Sure did.
Almost everyone who comes in to our outreach program
gets their fix from the same place:
Dumont, just east of Rockaway.
But you've got to have a death wish
to walk in there alone, son.
I'll be fine, Father.
I have righteousness on my side.
Little extra taste? I'll get you back tomorrow?
This ain't no furniture warehouse, man.
I don't do no credit. Get the fuck out of here
before I decide to get off my couch, man.
Yo, who's this fool pulling up?
Oh, shit!
Crazy motherfucker.
Cocaine, Oxy, meth.
Full service dealer.
Motherfucker.
Don't mind me.
I'll be taking this.
And this.
For the outreach program.
Bar codes are perfect. Holograms, bulletproof.
Money in the bag?
Help yourself.
Six-figure instruments are in the front.
First time I heard about bearer bonds
was Beverly Hills Cop.
I didn't know if they were real or Hollywood bullshit.
You could shine a lighthouse on 'em, man.
Watermarks are flawless.
No one'll really know who you really are.
But you know.
- Hey. - Hey.
- Just getting back? - Yeah.
Had to go to three stores to get what I needed. You?
Got everything I needed in one place.
Bet you did.
Oh, shit.
See you're still using brass knuckles.
No more switchblade?
Look down.
Hey, O'Donnell.
Hey, Neagley.
Don't blame me for this shithole.
I found it like this.
I was with my family. It was, uh, Unplugged Week.
That sounds awful.
No shit.
Once a year, my wife makes us get a cabin
in the middle of nowhere,
no cell phones, no devices, no TVs.
Less screens, more greens.
Good in theory, till by the third day
my devil children want to kill each other.
So, I got home, checked the voice mail,
got here as quick as I could.
Assholes snapped my toothbrush in half.
Now I own nothing.
Glad to see you haven't changed.
You have. Family vacations.
Wife telling you what to do.
Not the oversexed degenerate I remember.
I've been domesticated.
Apparently.
Got to say, pretty pissed about this whole Franzy thing.
Kind of loved that kid.
So…
…who we killing over it?
When are you due back on the catwalk?
God, you must've been mortified when you saw
you were wearing the same clothes as the homeless guy
taking a shit in a coffee can out back.
Shit. Password protected.
Hate guessing passwords.
About to hate it more.
Franz set it up so we get three guesses in two minutes
or the drive's erased.
And it auto-launched once it recognized a new device.
- You got to be shitting me. - Nope.
Okay, so we got to break Franzy down like we'd profile a perp.
Passwords come from deep down.
What was Franzy's thing? What was he known for?
Being smart.
Yeah, but we were all pretty smart.
Pittsburgh? That's all the guy talked about.
Pirates, Steelers, that, uh, that sandwich place
where they put the fries on top.
- Primanti Brothers. - That was it.
Yeah, but not Pittsburgh in and of itself.
It was his loyalty to it.
Franz was a loyal guy.
Still loved the 110th after all these years,
taught his kid our slogan.
Do you remember when he used to claim
that the Pirates of '79 were better than the Yankees of '78?
I mean, the little shit wasn't even alive when those teams
played and he'd still argue his ass off.
Okay, but loyalty is a byproduct.
Where does it come from?
Hero worship. Respect. If Franz respected someone,
he couldn't be dissuaded.
Pirates were the greatest team ever.
Miles Davis was the greatest musician ever.
Franz was loyal to what he respected.
That's it. You got it.
Roberto Clemente.
He'd only use the last name.
Wait!
What about Willie Stargell?
Did Willie Stargell die in a plane crash
delivering supplies to earthquake victims?
It's Clemente.
No, it isn't.
Who would use a device like this?
Franz. For this very reason.
I'm gonna try Miles Davis. Franz worshipped the guy.
Good a guess as any. Go for it.
Nope.
Shit.
This is why I hate guessing passwords.
Oh, this makes me sick to even suggest this,
and outside of this room I'll deny ever saying it,
but who did Franz respect more than anyone?
Any ballplayer, any artist?
Who did he hero worship?
Get the hell out of here.
A few weeks into the 110th, the kid started cutting
his hair like you, talking like you,
following you around. He wanted to be you, Reacher.
You better punch that. We're running out of time.
Son of a bitch.
Don't go getting a big head.
Hello.
Would you like this?
Now, do you know why I love comic books so much?
Because the good guys always win.
Mr. McBride?
You're booked for your flight to Denver.
Enjoy your trip.
Thank you. I certainly will.
Andrew McBride. Alan Mason.
Alejandro Mendez. Alexander Markopoulos.
Just a list of names, all starting with the initials A.M.
All aliases.
You keep the same initials so your signature
never has to change.
Just an A and an M with a squiggle after it,
no matter which pseudonym you're using.
Well, at least you can read yours.
I've just got page after page of random numbers.
No order. No meaning. Nothing.
At least to us. For now.
Well, whatever this shit is,
it was enough to get Franz killed, your rooms trashed,
and God knows whatever else we don't know about.
These guys aren't shy about getting aggressive.
We need more manpower.
Hate to say it, but he's right.
None of the 110th are reachable.
Well, we send a Christmas card
to Swan every year.
I think he lives in Queens now.
I'll have Lilly check our holiday mailer list.
What?
You really are domesticated.
No noise coming from inside.
A little New York background music?
Yo, Carlo! Your mom says you got to be home for dinner!
Oh. You smell that?
I'll take the upstairs.
In here.
Collar says Maisi.
Drank the toilet bowl dry.
Dehydration. That's a tough way to die.
Swan would never let a dog die of thirst.
The only way he doesn't come home
is if he couldn't come home.
Swan's dead.
Franzy, now Swan…
We can't get ahold of the other team members, either.
Boss?
What are you thinking?
Major?
I'm thinking there's someone hellbent
on taking out the Special Investigators.
And they're coming after us.
Good.