The Good Samaritan

Previously on The Blacklist...
We have credible intelligence that you're being targeted. Anslo Garrick got you to bring me here so that he could attack this facility.
How many people are going to die here today, Reddington?
Wait. No.
[ Siren wailing ] Aram: Give me that damned chip! You obviously have a mole.
What have you told, Ray?
Nothing.
Then what the hell are you doing here?
I'm gonna need satellite access to this address.
Because I think this might be where they're holding Reddington.
There's no one you can trust to keep you from us.
You had your talk.
Now it's my turn.
I can kill Lizzy.
We lost Reddington.
So, dad's gonna pick you up after the party and take you to hockey.
He's got your equipment in the car, so... Michael.
Michael, are you listening?
Yes. Hockey.
Dad has the equipment.
Two slices of pizza.
That's the limit.
Okay. Can I go?
Yes.
Okay.
"Lord Of The Flies." Punch?
Excuse me?
Would you like some punch?
Strawberry, I think.
James.
I'm Baxter's uncle.
Oh. [ Chuckles ] Sorry.
Karen.
Crazy, right?
All that energy.
They're like puppies.
With laundry.
[ Laughing ] Right.
Would you like a slice of cake?
I'm actually late to pick up my other puppy from piano, so... But thank you for the punch, though.
Sure.
Karen?
Karl: Karen?
Can you hear me?
Where am I?
What happened?
You were drugged.
Phenobarbital.
What are you feeling, Karen?
Can you tell me?
My head... hurts.
How did I get here?
Am I gonna be okay?
No, Karen.
You are not going to be okay at all.
Who are you?
Where am I?
Wait.
W-w-what's happening to me?
Where am I?
Quite a chart here, Karen.
Quite a chart, indeed.
Where am I?! We are going to start by collapsing your left lung.
No! Now, there's going to be a sharp pain... No.
...followed by an involuntary cough causing a shortness of breath.
Please, please.
I don't even know -- Once the lung fills with blood... No.
...we're going to move along the collarbone -- more specifically the medial end of the left clavicle.
It will cause severe pain.
[ Sobbing ] No.
Well... let's get started.
No.
Operator: 911.
What's your emergency?
I've done it again.
Sir?
Sir?
Hello?
Is anyone there?
_ Hey.
You know there's a, uh, surveillance van parked outside all night?
Everyone at the post office is under mandatory surveillance till they identify the leak.
You make it sound like they're here to protect us.
They are.
So, I applied for a job in Lincoln.
Before you throw that coffee cup at me, just hear me out.
Okay?
There are great schools.
There is low crime.
There's an FBI field office.
I just want to be a normal, boring couple -- no hidden cameras, no fake passports, no surveillance vans outside.
So do I.
But not in Nebraska.
Well, they asked me to fly out for an interview.
Hang on.
You're leaving?
Well, the interview's tomorrow, so I'm flying out this afternoon.
We need to talk about us, but -- _ My God.
What is it?
You're positive it's him?
Same surgical precision, same call to 911.
This is the guy.
Mobile psych can handle it.
I rode lead on this case.
That's why they're requesting a liaison.
Our only job right now is finding Raymond Reddington.
This case is important to me.
It's personal.
If it's personal to me, it's personal to Reddington.
He may reach out, try to help... make this his case.
OPR is ready.
Interrogator: In the last three weeks, have you had contact with Reddington?
No.
Tell me this, Agent Keen -- is your husband cleared to know the location of this black site?
No.
And yet you brought him here.
As part of an investigation.
What investigation?
You can look into that.
All the information is here.
Are you refusing to answer?
Yes.
What happened in that box with Reddington?
He saved my life and then threatened to kill me.
What he said while doing that is none of your business.
According to the report from your therapist, you feel guilty about what happened during the raid.
Of course I do.
I shot a man.
I thought what I said in therapy was confidential.
You shot a terrorist.
Why would you feel guilty about that?
Because he's human.
I'll ask again.
Meera: Let's just assume I'm your mole.
Do you really believe a little chitchat here is gonna get you anywhere?
You're suggesting -- Controlled fear, hypothermia, sleep deprivation.
Do the words "Advanced interrogation" not mean anything to you?
Where were you when the site was taken?
I was on my way here.
I was late.
Interrogator: That was convenient. She's a suspect, Harold.
They all are.
Yes. And we're turning their lives inside out.
Every bank loan, ATM withdrawal -- Putting Keen on the street is a mistake.
Keen is our best shot at drawing him out.
ODNI wants to know how a US black site less than 5 miles from Capitol Hill was compromised.
We have problems, Harold.
You can't even account for all the victims.
Security cameras knocked out -- You lost a body.
How is that even possible?
We don't know.
We think Reddington had something to do with it.
Tell me, our guy -- what do you got on the victims?
Seven so far.
All different ages, incomes.
He always acted unpredictably.
We could never figure out his trigger, only that he's trying to make a statement.
What kind of a statement?
He never kills his victims.
He always calls 911, allows first responders a chance to save their lives.
That's why the papers call him The Good Samaritan.
What's happened?
Are you sure it's my wife?
That's what we need you to confirm for us, sir.
I'm sorry.
What's your boy's name?
Michael.
Why don't you take Mr. Brodine inside here?
And I'll hang out with Michael.
If that's okay with you.
Yeah.
How are you doing?
My name's Don.
My dad in trouble?
I don't know.
He steal a car?
No.
Did he rob a bank?
He's a bookie.
What happened to your leg?
Oh, I tripped playing soccer.
I broke my collarbone.
Ooh! Bet that hurt.
When's my dad coming back?
Arrange transport of her ashes personally.
I want it done properly.
The hell are you looking at?
I want you to tell me about your friend -- the man with the apple.
I don't know.
We never met before the job.
I swear.
I didn't even know his name.
How did you communicate?
By the phones.
Everything was anonymous.
Nobody knew anybody.
We all had jobs.
Tell me about these jobs.
I've never worked with any of these people before.
I was told to be on standby for a 48-hour window.
They said I had under four minutes to pull a chip from your neck.
Who told you you had four minutes?
The people who paid me.
How were you paid?
Cash, at a drop.
Where?
It was always a different place, different locations.
EMT: They picked me up in an ambulance.
I didn't even know where we were going.
So, you had no knowledge of either the location or a target?
No.
I'm surprised it was you.
I was just hired to supply the injections and monitor your vital signs.
How were you paid?
In cash at the site.
What denomination were the bills?
He paid in $5s and $10s.
EMT: Nothing larger than a $20.
I've told you everything, I promise.
I know you have.
You have such a pretty face.
And a paramedic.
What a shame.
_ Hello?
Lizzy.
Where are you?
I read about that poor woman they found in Albany.
Sounded awfully familiar.
The Good Samaritan.
Are you back on the case, I hope?
They're going to find you.
This one's important to you, isn't he?
Why?
What on Earth happened?
I only ask on the chance that I may be able to help.
One of the earliest victims -- she died in my arms.
There was nothing I could do to stop it.
You missed something, didn't you?
Serial killers escalate.
This one doesn't.
The victims and methods vary.
I could never see the pattern... the profile.
Still can't.
I don't know about serial killers, but I do know about torture, and there is no one-size-fits-all.
If you really want to hurt someone, you need to tailor your attack specifically to that person.
Perhaps the killer's methods, the injuries he inflicts tell you less about him and more about his victims.
I got to go.
Wait.
I think I've got something.
You've spoken with Reddington.
Yes. He called.
He called when?
Did you tell Cooper?
Not yet.
We talked about the case.
We're all under suspicion here.
He called, and you didn't report it?
I will, but something he said about the case -- We've been focused on the killer.
We should be focused on the victims.
The most recent victim's son, Michael, broke his collarbone.
Yeah.
He told me at the morgue.
I looked through his medical records.
He broke a lot more than that -- broken ribs, collapsed lung, blunt trauma to the liver and kidneys.
The boy was abused.
These are the autopsy x-rays of the most recent victim.
Every fracture, every injury the son had, the killer gave to the mother.
We should bring the boy in.
Malik.
Alone.
You've been officially cleared.
That took long enough.
We still have some doubts about the others.
We've been monitoring a variety of offshore accounts linked to Garrick's team.
Contact the banks.
Subpoena them if necessary.
I want to know whose name is on what account and where that money came from.
I'm counting on your discretion.
I think you should know Reddington reached out to Agent Keen.
And said what exactly?
She won't say.
Hello, Fyodor.
Hey! [ Gunshots ] Okay! Cool out! I can make this right! Just talk to me! Oh, yes, Fyodor.
We're gonna talk, all right.
[ Gun cocks ] [ Laughing ] Honestly, I don't understand you, Fyodor.
With all the business you do, and you're still funneling the money through your nightclubs, paying contracts in 5s and 10s 'cause you're too cheap to pay the commission for clean cash.
Anyway, I get sidetracked.
I've come for your banker.
Who is the banker?
I can't... The first time I ever smoked a cigar was with Marnie Petersen in fifth grade.
Funny, little, bat-faced girl.
I adored her.
[ Sighs ] Red... The bank.
Please.
How about I make this as simple as possible?
There are five bankers on the East Coast who were capable of financing a mission like Garrick's.
I run money through four of them.
Which one?
Okay! Oh, okay! The money was wired from Gestalten Landesbank, the New York office.
We have a man there.
I swear that's all I know! Thank you.
Okay.
So -- so that's it?
We're finished?
Yes, we're finished.
[ Laughing ] Oh, my God.
The suspense is killing me.
I don't like to talk about that.
I know, Mike.
I know.
We really need to, okay?
You're not in trouble.
I promise.
So, you broke your arm and your wrist?
I fell... off my bike.
And last year, you broke your collarbone and, uh, broke your ankle?
They were accidents.
That's all I'm supposed to say.
Who told you to say that?
It's okay, Michael.
Tell him what you told me.
No one's gonna hurt you anymore.
My mom.
Michael's mother was abusing him for years, and now she ends up dead.
The same injuries she inflicted on Michael.
Normally, the father would be the prime suspect, but that doesn't fit.
I mean, even if he wanted to hurt her for abusing their son, what about the other victims?
Unless... it's the same motive.
Our unsub's somebody who targets the abusers.
Like a vigilante killer.
Let's run background checks.
We need to know what other victims have loved ones with identical injuries.
Karl: Beautiful.
See, mother?
Some things do remain the same.
Okay.
I have to go to work now.
Yes, I know.
I don't want to leave you either.
But I promise I'll be home soon.
Mrs. Wilkinson, you have had quite a year.
Three trips to the ER in the past 10 months.
Detached retina, concussion, fractured jaw, and now a broken wrist.
You can see all that?
In your file.
I'm a total space cadet.
I guess I should try to be more careful.
I guess so.
Red: Henry.
What the hell are you... My wife will be down here any minute.
Great.
I'd love to meet the wife.
[ Sighs ] Mr. Reddington, we have a dinner engagement.
Don't you think it's best you and I make an appointment for another time?
There's been a nasty bit of business -- blood spilled, lives lost... A modicum of torture words don't fully describe.
I know who's responsible.
I know who carried it out.
Mr. Reddington, I have no idea -- I've tied up all the loose ends but one.
To finish the job, I'll need all your wire and transfer records pertaining to the operation.
Mr. Reddington, I have no idea who -- Please, Henry.
Stop.
You were the bank.
Henry... You were the bank.
This puts me in a real... situation.
Listen.
I'll do anything I can to help.
I'll need time to -- You'll hear from me tomorrow.
You need to see this.
One of the offshore accounts was used to launder money from Gestalten Landesbank into this dummy account in Manhattan.
Louis Coogan.
That's our mole?
Well, that's his alias.
Turn the page.
Bring him in.
Clear! Man: Clear.
Agent: He's not here.
Find him now.
Hello, Aram.
What -- what is this?
Where am I?
You're going to do something for me.
Account numbers, routing information.
You're going to steal $5 million from that account and place it into one of mine.
I expect the transaction to be untraceable.
What?
I can't.
Aram... this is a Colt .45 1911.
I can strip and reassemble this weapon in well under two minutes.
Mr. Reddington, please.
Once I have it reassembled, I'm gonna reload the mag, and if at that time, your task remains incomplete, I'm gonna empty that mag into your head.
That's really messed up.
Don't look so stricken.
The first shot will kill you.
Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! I did it. It's done.
Look.
It's untraceable, like you asked.
How? Explain.
I used a ripple exchange to have the Fiat currency converted to e-cash and then into Bitcoin.
I ran the whole transaction through a randomized cryptographic extension at the protocol level, then through a two-tiered secure laundry service I know I can trust.
No one's gonna catch you.
I promise.
A souvenir.
You're innocent.
I am?
I mean... I am.
[ Chuckles ] Wait. Of what?
The team that broke into the black site was paid through Gestalten Landesbank.
My contact there traced a $250,000 payment to a covert account belonging to Louis Coogan.
Louis who?
It's an alias, for you.
Someone is attempting to implicate you as a mole by creating a money trail that leads directly to you.
You're obviously far too clever to have accepted payment that was so easily traceable.
You're not gonna kill me.
No.
I'm going to find somebody else, and I'm going to kill them.
I never want to hurt her.
I just... There's this anger that takes over.
It's like I'm someone else, you know?
Jack: And we all know that powerless feeling, but it's our addiction to power and control that leads to domestic violence.
I'd like to share something.
First time here.
My name is Victor.
Hello, Victor. - Hello, Victor.
Hello, Victor.
I was a victim.
My mother.
She called it tough love.
It was abuse.
I refused to see her for nearly 10 years, till I realized avoiding her and pretending those things never happened... Took a long time.
But I figured out a way to reconcile with her.
It has been hard on both of us, but we've worked out a process.
Call it a home remedy... that has allowed us to move forward.
And now... we're closer than we've ever been.
What you said in group really meant a lot to me.
I understand.
I'm, uh, George, by the way.
I know.
Janice: Henry?
I'm so glad you're home.
We have company.
You never told me you rowed crew for Dartmouth.
Don't worry, Henry.
I haven't told her all our war stories.
Well, a few.
[ Laughs ] You have a lovely wife.
We've been getting to know each other.
Come here, you old such and such.
I know what you've done.
I invited Bernard to stay for dinner.
I have a Stroganoff on the burner.
I hope you don't mind if I stay.
I do love Stroganoff.
Let me wash up.
You're fun.
He's here.
No! Here in my house.
Wait.
I'm gonna call the police.
Just get somebody here.
Get a car here as soon as you can.
Would you like rice or noodles, Bernard?
Whichever is faster.
I believe the police are on their way.
I gave you what you asked for.
No, Henry.
You gave me the bank transfers pointing to a patsy.
What's he talking about?
Janice, shh.
You should never have come here into my home.
They're on their way.
Nearly everyone has been accounted for, except one.
Who else got paid?
Red, please.
They will kill me if I say a word about any of -- [ Screams ] God! What on Earth?! Who else got paid?
Henry! You monster! What have you done?! Please, Janice.
Stop with the yelling.
It's just a flesh wound.
He shot you! The next bullet goes in your stomach if you don't start talking.
I want a name.
I have to call an ambulance.
He needs a doctor! Janice, if you don't stop, I'm gonna put you in the closet.
Red, please.
I need to call Dr. Wright.
He will come to the house! No doctor -- What are you doing?! Stop it! Aah! No! Henry, give me the name.
Let me out of here! Janice... if you don't stop your yammering, I'm gonna have to shoot through this door, which will be a shame, because I won't have any idea what I'm shooting at.
Give me a name, Henry, or I'm gonna drag you out, throw you in the trunk, fly you to Papua New Guinea, and have your head stuck on a pole.
Newton Phillips.
Janice, my sincerest apologies.
I'll take a rain check on the Stroganoff.
It smells delicious.
Mother, we have another guest.
I know what you're thinking.
Don't worry.
We'll be done in time for supper.
Mother... this is George Wilkinson.
George is married to a lovely woman by the name of Melissa.
George, this is my mother, Louise.
Every one of The Good Samaritan's victims had a family member with identical injuries -- fractured skulls, broken bones, torn retinas.
All of them either the victim's spouse or child.
All of them classic signs of physical abuse.
You think your serial killer only targets people who hurt others?
How else do you explain this?
Every one of these family members was at a different hospital, different insurance, different doctors.
There's nothing that ties them together.
Yes, there is.
Liz: Nurse Karl Hoffman.
He was on call every time one of the family members was brought into the ER.
He's a locum tenens.
He fills in for short-staffed hospitals, like a substitute teacher.
We're getting warrants for his home address and the last hospital he reported to.
Good. Get moving.
Hoffman's not here.
He wrapped up his shift at 4:00.
What did you find on your end?
Nothing at his residence either.
I already pulled the medical records of all the patients he saw on his last shift.
You think he's already identified his next victim?
I sure as hell hope not.
Okay.
So, you wanted a list of all the patients Hoffman saw today?
Yeah, specifically ones who came in with broken bones. - Right.
Well, there's only one patient that fit that description -- Melissa Wilkinson.
She had a fractured wrist.
I think she came in with her husband.
Karl: Okay.
April 9, 2011.
Torn retina, left eye.
How did you do that, George? Hmm?
Blow to the head?
Accidental push down the stairs?
See, I like to replicate the experience as best I can.
Oh, well.
No matter.
I have plenty of tools that will achieve the same effect.
[ Muffled talking ] See, George, I suffered my share of pain... [ Groans ] ...as a child courtesy of the one person in this world who was supposed to protect me.
I found it... inconceivable that a person could hurt someone who they claim to love -- and not just hurt, but torture... repeatedly.
But then, one day, I realized she wasn't experiencing pain.
It was the opposite.
She was actually experiencing pleasure.
See, George... I believe that the only way that an abuser can truly understand the experience of the victim is to have that experience themselves.
And that's what you're doing here today, George.
And that's what mother is here today for, too -- so she never forgets what I experienced all those years.
And now you will never forget what your wife experienced all those years.
Is George in some kind of trouble?
Melissa, I need to ask you a difficult question.
Has your husband been abusing you?
No.
Of course not.
I'm aware of your visit to the ER.
You've been interviewed by a caseworker in the past.
We've had some problems.
Every marriage does.
But he's getting help.
He's been going to group classes at the church twice a week.
In fact, he went today.
He was here for the meeting.
Did he seem to be in any kind of distress?
Not that I could tell.
Was he with anyone?
No.
He always comes alone.
Actually, come to think of it, though, he was chatting with a new member after the session.
New member?
Is this the man he was with?
Yeah. He introduced himself to the group, told us his story.
Told us about his mother, the abuse.
Thank you.
He's taking back control in the place where it was taken away from him -- his childhood home.
Karl: Okay. Let's see.
What's next?
A concussion.
Do you know what a concussion technically is, George?
It is a blow with significant enough blunt force that it literally causes the brain to rattle around inside of your skull.
[ Groans ] This won't do, 'cause there was also a vertical laceration along with the concussion.
What did you do, George?
What did you throw at her?
Huh?
[ Muffled ] A bottle! Huh?
A bottle of beer! What's that, George?
A bottle of beer! [ Screams ] A bottle of beer! Of course it was.
Keep an eye on him, mother.
I need to run to the kitchen.
I'm afraid we've run out of time, mother.
We're going to have to expedite the procedure.
Step away from him! Why should I?
Do you have any idea what this man has done?
This man is a monster! That may be, but killing him isn't gonna solve anything.
Tell that to his wife.
We don't have the luxury of your simple morality.
Talk to me when you've been a victim.
Drop the hammer! One more body isn't gonna make a difference.
I think it will... especially if it's the right body.
Agent Keen.
Mrs. Wilkinson, I'm gonna need to speak with your husband alone for a moment.
Of course.
Actually, wait.
Metro PD is looking into charges against you, but without Melissa's cooperation, I don't know what will stick.
What I do know is this -- if you ever touch her again... if you so much as look at her sideways, I will find you.
And I will do to you myself what I probably should have let Karl Hoffman do to you in that garage.
Do you understand?
He surrendered himself in the parking lot.
He's unarmed.
Before I call OPR, let's hear it.
It's from Mr. Reddington.
It's evidence.
Reddington reached out to you?
Well, yes. He... Uh, yes.
Uh, we had a chat -- at gunpoint, actually.
Long story long, he identified the leak.
Who the hell is Newton Phillips?
Newton.
So... it's finished?
If you had come to me, I could have helped you.
We could have avoided all of this.
But now we can't.
They threatened my family.
Of course they did.
Newton, I'll take care of your family, whatever they need.
My wife... she has no idea.
If you could make it look like an accident, for her.
Look out at the water.
Just look out at the water.
The assassination attempt failed.
Our asset survived.
What asset?
You still haven't given us a name.
What I can confirm is that the person responsible for the breach of security has been eliminated.
And who was that?
In accordance with NSPD -- Cut the crap, Diane.
The Senate Subcommittee briefing is in under an hour, and I am not walking into Congress without the name of that mole.
Well, that's too bad, because I'm not giving it to you.
To do so would compromise the identity of our asset.
What I can tell you is that this particular threat to our national security died with him.
Based on what?
Your word?
Scout's honor?
For all we know, your asset is the threat to national security, and the effort to eliminate him was the work of a patriot.
I can assure you it wasn't.
And I can assure you that your assurances make you sound incredibly naive.
Thank you for coming back.
I don't want to fight, Tom.
Let's just talk.
Tom's at the airport.
What the hell are you doing here?
How did things go with your case?
Congratulations.
I'm proud of you.
Does this mean you're back?
I don't know.
My house is clean.
But yours... is not.
What does that mean?
The deficit that I found in my organization could not have supplied all the knowledge required for the incursion to take place.
That would have been supplied by someone with far greater access.
Someone on the inside.
It would seem so.
Therefore, we're back where we began... Me speaking with you.
Well, then.
Welcome back.
Where have you been, anyway?
[ Chuckles ] Out and about.
Did you bring me anything?
Yes.
The next name on the blacklist.