That's it. That's it!
Oh! Oh!
Easy, Rutherford. Just breathe through it.
Oh, I haven't screamed like that
since they let my Betty out back in '04.
You some kind of witch or something, Banks?
No, but I've been called much worse.
Oh.
What you really need is an updated pain management regimen.
When's the next time you'll see your oncologist?
Couple of months?
You know how hard it is to get out here and see a doctor.
I'll give you three fried wraps if you do me again tomorrow.
Patient charts are off-limits to other inmates, Banks.
-I'm a doctor. -Not anymore.
And I won't warn you again.
You wouldn't have to
if these women had decent access to care.
If the prison invested in just three
mobile telehealth portals,
these women could meet with doctors
when their conditions are still manageable.
The technology allows for X-rays, family history,
all with the push of a button,
and without any of my former colleagues
having to step foot in the scary, scary prison.
I've read your proposals, inmate.
Report to the loading bay in B wing.
I have more to do here.
Well, that's too bad, 'cause it's your lucky day.
Some nonprofit came through with the funding for the machines.
Seeing as you were so enthusiastic about the project,
I assigned you to run them.
They're being delivered now.
I think the words you're looking for are "thank you."
Who's going to be operating these?
She will.
How long is this going to take?
We'll just get these switched on, then we'll start training.
These are going to help a lot of women, Warden.
Don't make me regret this, Banks.
All right, good to go.
Aah!
No, please!
Dr. Perillos?
My employer would like a word.
No, no, no. Antonio, I'm sorry, it's either a rush job
or it's gonna take another six weeks.
It can't be both.
And I swear, if it's bumblebee yellow
instead of sunspot as agreed, then you and the entire local
are going to be on your own the next negotiation.
My best to Ludamilla.
Hey, welcome back. You feeling better?
Much better.
Though I don't imagine I will be having soft-shell crab
again anytime soon.
Most people blame the seafood, but, uh, 9 times out of 10,
it's the unwashed greens that get you.
What? It's true.
-Where's Malik? -I dunno.
She's been closing out the office,
going over old case files.
Maybe the late nights got her.
Speaking of old case files,
I just got off the phone with the Bureau of Prisons.
Inmate Kayla Banks escaped FCI Hazelton
-late yesterday afternoon. -Kayla Banks, as in--
Dr. Laken Perillos.
Two men disguised as delivery workers
smuggled a weapon into the facility.
Two correctional officers and the warden were killed.
Maybe you'll feel this.
Aah!
- Surveillance? - Not yet.
BoP said the cameras went down shortly before the escape.
Malik is headed to the prison to review the physical evidence now.
She was still here when I got in this morning.
The timing isn't a coincidence.
First the freelancer, and now Perillos?
You think Wujing is behind the escape?
I think he's targeting former Blacklisters,
building an army to go after Reddington.
I know that's what I would do.
If you're right, and Wujing did break out
the most dangerous torturer on the Blacklist...
He's planning on using her services.
The only question is, who's he planning to use them on?
I'll coordinate with the Bureau of Prisons and local PD.
You two find out everything you can about the medical supply company
and the vehicle used in the escape.
Yes, sir.
- Hello? - Dembe?
You're not supposed to be calling me, Soren.
I know, I know, and I'm sorry, but this is an emergency, Dembe.
I don't work for Raymond anymore.
Whatever this is, you need to take it up with him.
I can't, Dembe. I...
I lost the manifests for the shipments out of Corfu.
I have 22 containers that have to move today
and no idea where to send them.
Reach out to Fabrizio.
He should be able to get you a replacement manifest.
If I do that, he'll tell Reddington!
-And? -And-- And...
I've had a few slipups lately.
If Reddington hears about this, who knows what he'll do.
You have to help me, Dembe.
I don't know what I can do. It's been years since
I've been involved in Raymond's operations.
You have forgotten more about Reddington's
shipping business than I ever knew.
Just come to the port and look at the manifests.
Please, if anyone can figure where this junk is supposed to go, it's you.
Look, I didn't want to bring it up,
but you remember that night outside Bratislava?
-The power plant? -If I hadn't come back for you,
you never would have walked out of the building,
and I would've never caught a kilo of shrapnel in my leg.
Soren, I--
Dembe, please. I'm begging you.
Come to the port.
You'll never hear from me again.
I'll see what I can do.
You must be Wujing.
Dr. Perillos.
So, is Wujing a first name,
or are we dealing with a Cher, Prince,
Beyonce situation?
Please.
Join me.
I appreciate what you did to get me out,
and the costume change.
I spent 10 years in a cage, Dr. Perillos.
After I escaped, the first thing I wanted
was a private shower and a new suit.
You do know how to make a girl feel special.
Though you should know,
I'm not unaccustomed to receiving favors from strangers.
Ah.
But you and I are not strangers.
Hmm.
Before I was incarcerated,
I studied you and your techniques.
I was an admirer.
Oh, goody. A fan.
Now, are you going to tell me why you brought me here or not?
Before my escape from prison,
I was briefly held with a man named Marvin Gerard,
Raymond Reddington's lawyer.
According to Gerard,
Raymond Reddington has spent the past decade
working in partnership with the FBI.
Now, before his death, Mr. Gerard provided me
with a list of individuals imprisoned
as a result of Reddington's unholy union with the Bureau.
I was the first.
Would you like to know your number?
Consumer electronics should go to Makar Wharf in the Philippines,
which leaves MK Rialto?
Oh, that is fertilizer.
No, no, no, the drone components.
Are you sure?
Yes, yes, I'm sure.
All this time, I assumed Reddington
left me to die, but he didn't.
He-- He fed me to the FBI.
And now I'm offering you the opportunity to take your revenge.
Reddington's former body guard, Dembe Zuma.
Or Agent Dembe Zuma, as he's now known.
Dembe Zuma joined the FBI?
You know him?
Apparently not as well as I thought.
I believe Zuma to be a member of the special task force
responsible for the FBI's work with Reddington.
And you want me to help you prove it.
-That's it. We're finished. -Already?
There's one more thing.
Wait. We should have a toast.
Soren, I don't drink.
You know I don't.
I need you to get Dembe Zuma to tell me everything he knows
about Reddington's relationship with the FBI,
including the location of his task force.
Soren, what's going on?
Mr. Zuma is one of two men alive
to have withstood my charms.
Then I imagine you'll be eager to take a second bite at the apple.
Soren?
He made me do it, Dembe.
I had no choice.
What did he make you do?
He has Mathilde.
He has my girl!
Do you have Dembe in custody?
I will. Any moment.
Soren, what did you do?
Let's go.
Where is he?
Please. I did what you asked.
-Go find him. -No, please.
My daughter, please.
She'll be fine.
Oh, thank you.
Oh! Oh! Aah!
Hi.
Michael, I told you not to throw that baseball in the house.
My name is Dembe Zuma.
I'm a federal agent with the FBI.
I need you both to listen to me very carefully.
Do you have any weapons in the house?
Anything to defend yourself?
You mean like a gun? No.
What happened to your leg? Did you get shot?
-Yes. -Oh, my God.
I want you to go in there and stay quiet until the police arrive.
Do you understand?
Michael.
It's lucky.
Then you keep it.
9-1-1, what is your address?
Hello? Hello?
Is anyone there?
I need your address.
Hello?
Is anyone there?
Can anyone hear me?
Hands up. Don't move!
I said, don't move. Put those on.
I'm not going to tell you again.
Please don't hurt him.
Put down the weapon.
No.
If you want me alive, let them go.
Tie them up in the bathroom.
We have what we came for.
Take him.
Welcome back, Agent Zuma.
How lovely to see you again.
I've spent quite a bit of time and effort
trying to learn about you, Dembe,
but I've found very little.
What do you want?
I want a lot of things, Agent Zuma, but for now,
I'd most like to know how you went from being
Raymond Reddington's right hand to an agent in the FBI.
On a secret task force, no less.
I imagine that took some doing.
Imagine all you want. I won't tell you anything.
Either of you.
So you've heard the news about your old friend.
Good.
I'll let the two of you get reacquainted.
Hello, Dembe.
So good to see you.
Anything from Malik at the prison?
An exterior camera caught an angle of one of the attackers.
Zhang Wei.
So Wujing was behind Perillos' escape.
Yeah, but get this.
We rang Zhang Wei's photo against available CCTV cameras in the area.
We got a shot of him from a few days ago.
Look who we found him with.
That's Robert Vesco.
You think Vesco is working with Wujing
after Reddington broke him out and made him a fortune?
Wouldn't be the first time that Vesco turned on Reddington.
I can see Vesco stealing from Reddington,
but siding with a man like Wujing?
Even considering everything those two have done to each other over the years,
it seemed to me that, other than Dembe,
Vesco was about the closest thing Reddington
had to a friend.
Put out an APB on the car from the photo.
Maybe if we're lucky, it'll lead us to Perillos or Wujing himself.
It's been over an hour.
By now, the toxin has suffused every nerve ending in your body.
Fortunately, I have a clever little medication
to keep you from going into cardiac arrest.
I suppose fortune is a matter of perspective, isn't it?
How did it work?
Gerard said there was a deal, an immunity agreement.
I wonder...
did Reddington make sure to extend it to you?
Or was he just looking out for himself?
So many questions to answer...
and we will.
Sooner or later, you'll tell me everything
Wujing wants to know about Reddington, his task force,
its location.
But I have to be honest, I don't care much for the details.
It's you that interests me.
Me?
You know, I'd never failed to break a man
until you and Reddington.
I have had quite some time to consider what made you so...
impenetrable.
Your sense of loyalty,
your faith, your pride.
You don't know me.
Not nearly as well as I'd like to, no.
Wujing thinks you joined the FBI at Reddington's request.
Do you want to know what I think?
I think you left him because you were looking for something.
Redemption?
Absolution, maybe?
That's it, isn't it?
Ah.
You walked away from Reddington to step into the light.
My, my, my.
Maybe our little chat actually had a real impact on you.
It was a career choice.
You had nothing to do with it.
Oh, I'm not looking for credit.
I just want to understand.
You knew you had to get away from Reddington,
but you couldn't bare to leave him entirely,
so you did the next best thing--
you joined the team supporting him.
It's sweet,
in an utterly pathetic kind of way.
Or maybe it just felt natural,
leaving a corrupt, violent, White man
for a corrupt, violent, White institution.
I know the FBI's history, thank you.
Come on, Dembe.
Don't you want to tell me all about the wonderful people
on Reddington's secret task force?
I'm not going to tell you anything.
You love him, don't you?
Reddington.
Despite all the pain he's caused you, you love him.
But here's the thing about love, Dembe--
it blinds us to the truth.
Raymond Reddington can never be redeemed,
and the longer you support him,
the more you will allow him to inflict pain on the world.
Tell me I'm wrong.
It's time, Dembe.
Time to end the lies, the deception, and the pain.
It's time to free yourself.
To free yourself from Reddington, from the FBI,
from everybody.
All you have to do is tell me what I need to know.
The task force...
where is it?
Thank you for coming, Robert.
Please, have a seat.
So you like cats, huh?
I like puzzles.
I picked up the habit during my incarceration.
It helps clear the mind.
Eh, good for you.
I'm still making wine in my toilet, myself.
How many others on the Reddington team?
So the breakout went according to plan?
Yes, it did. Thanks to you.
If you hadn't gotten to that young man in prison IT,
we never would have had a chance.
You know, flattery will get you everywhere with me.
Casualties?
A few.
I'm told it couldn't be helped.
There's no point fighting, Dembe.
Just tell me what I want to know,
and I'll let you rest.
I've worked with many spies all my life, Mr. Vesco,
but I've never met someone more capable of building
and manipulating trust than you.
I'm a con man. It's what I do.
It's a gift.
One that I'll need again if we're to succeed
in bringing down Reddington.
What do you have in mind?
This could all end, Dembe.
Just tell me, where can we find the task force?
Hello, gorgeous.
Dr. Perillos, how's our guest?
Unconscious.
Not as strong as I remember, but still stubborn as a mule.
Who's he?
The man who broke you out of prison.
Robert Vesco.
Charmed.
Dembe Zuma? He's your target?
You know him?
I do.
Wujing, it's poetry.
The man who arrested me is the same man
who will help us finish Reddington once and for all.
You've reached Dembe Zuma.
I'm sorry I'm not available to take your call.
Harold, what news of the good doctor?
Nothing yet, though it would appear
Wujing has partnered with Robert Vesco.
Yes, I'm aware of Robert's latest turn.
I'll deal with him in time.
Deal with him whenever you like.
At the moment, I have more pressing concerns.
-Have you heard from Dembe? -No. Why do you ask?
He asked for an hour this morning.
Said he needed to help an associate of yours
with a problem at the Port of Baltimore.
He didn't get into details, but it sounded like an emergency.
If there was a problem at the port,
the very last person any of my associates
would turn to is Dembe.
And if the problem was an emergency, I'd already know about it.
When did you last hear from him?
A text message, about an hour ago.
Read it.
"Run into a complication.
Little longer before I go."
Something about the message bothered me,
and Dembe isn't answering his phone.
It's the grammar. That's what bothered you.
Dembe hasn't written an incomplete sentence since he learned to write.
So someone else sent the message?
It would seem so.
Dr. Perillos was hired to extract information from Dembe before.
It seems Wujing has offered her the chance to finish the job.
Get your people to the port, Harold.
We have to find Dembe, now.
To Mr. Zuma.
I'll drink to almost anything,
but I don't feel quite right drinking to him.
I believe Dembe Zuma is part of the FBI team
collaborating with Reddington,
and soon enough, Perillos will get him to reveal
all the details of Reddington's arrangement with the FBI.
Most importantly, where they're headquartered.
-And then? -We raid it.
A secure FBI facility?
A necessary risk.
If we are to finish Reddington, we'll need powerful partners.
And before they will agree to destroy a man
who's made them all very rich, we'll need--
-Proof. -Their documents will be heavily encrypted.
But if we were to access them,
we'll require the assistance of a skilled computer engineer.
Let me guess, you know a guy.
Thanks to Marvin Gerard, yes.
Bo Chang, or as he's professionally known,
The Troll Farmer.
The what?
Another unfortunate victim of Reddington's betrayal.
He was released from prison 18 months ago.
To date, Mr. Chang has rebuffed my overtures,
which is why I need your powers of persuasion
to convince him to join us.
I just need to quickly attend to some obligations.
It won't take more than an hour, and then I'm all yours.
My men have tracked him to a data center in Manilla.
If we lose him there, it might be months
before he resurfaces again,
so I'm afraid your obligations will have to wait.
We're leaving now.
So be it.
I just hope you have an extra toothbrush and underwear.
I prefer briefs.
Are you all right, Robert?
I'm fine.
You mind?
Mm.
Let's go.
It's amazing the things the body will do
to move us away from our pain,
but it always comes back.
You remember why I started this line of work,
don't you, Dembe?
Your mother?
A racist medical establishment doomed her to a life of pain.
I spent every moment since trying to master it.
I always assumed it'd take decades to end human suffering
for good, but somewhere in the back of my head,
I always hoped I could find a way
to help ease her suffering.
But thanks to you and Reddington,
I'll never get that chance.
She died a year and a half
after I went to prison,
alone and hurting.
And I-- I wasn't there to help
because I was in a cage that you put me in.
Ow...
I always assumed
that hurting you would bring me comfort,
but it doesn't.
You want to know why?
Because every time I look into those big, brown eyes,
I see that Reddington's taken more from you
than the both of you could ever take from me.
How much have you lost because of him?
How much suffering have you endured because of him?
I don't know if we'll live long enough
to see humanity free from the plague of pain,
but I know that together, today, in this moment,
we can end the pain
that Raymond Reddington causes all over this world.
All you have to do is tell me what I want to know.
No.
Tell me.
I'm sorry about your mother.
Tell me how much.
Argh!
Agent Ressler, what's your location?
We're on our way to the Eastern District Police Precinct in Baltimore.
BPD just took a statement from a woman
claiming a wounded FBI agent was abducted from her home
less than a mile from the port.
Turn around. Reddington called.
He thinks he knows where Wujing is holding Dembe.
Reddington knows where Dembe is? How?
He didn't say. I'm sending you the address now.
So there we were, about to buy half
of the former Soviet Union's
nuclear submarines in Sevastopol,
when this little pip-squeak of a KGB agent,
Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, starts objecting to the deal.
You met Putin?
Met him? I had his superiors kick him out of the room
-while we finished the sale. -Wei.
And by the time anybody knew what was what,
I was half way to Athens.
Not so fast, Dembe.
You're not getting out of this that easily.
What do you want?
I told Wujing I was not to be interrupted.
I'm sorry, but we have a situation.
More pressing than our subject going into cardiac arrest?
The FBI was just spotted on our perimeter.
We have to leave. Now.
FBI!
Sure, move in!
Oh, my God. Dembe!
We're clear!
This is Agent Ressler.
We're going to need immediate medical support at my location, now!
What, uh-- What's going on?
Will someone please tell me what the hell is happening?
It seems the FBI has located the safe house
and recovered Agent Zuma.
What? How?
That's what I'm trying to determine, Robert.
- Status? - Dembe's in trouble.
The ambulance was too far out,
but we're still 20 minutes to the nearest hospital.
I don't think he has that long.
Understood. There's a feed store
less than four miles from your current position.
Corner of Falston Road and Route 68.
A feed store? He needs a doctor!
I'll explain later, just hold on.
I thought you said that site was secure.
What kind of an outfit are you running here?
This is an unfortunate mistake, Robert,
but I assure you,
I will hold whoever is responsible to account.
Good, because I'm not going back to prison.
No, not for you, and not for Reddington.
I understand if you want to go, Robert,
but I hope you won't.
Wei.
I can't do this without you.
-14, 15. -He's in v-fib!
-Who are these people? -Charging paddles.
Reddington has medical teams on 24-hour standby.
Clear!
Unresponsive.
Still in v-fib, charging again.
Again. Charging 200 joules.
Clear!
Still no response.
I thought we were going to an airstrip?
I'm afraid there's been a change of plans, Robert.
I don't know what you're playing at,
but if you don't stop pointing that thing at me--
You asked how the FBI found the safe house earlier.
But you already knew, didn't you, Robert?
Are you all right, Robert?
Yeah, I'm fine.
My men found something unusual.
Where is your phone, Robert?
No, no, no. Easy. Easy. Easy.
What happened?
Ressler and Malik rescued you from Wujing's place.
You were in cardiac arrest, and they brought you here.
How did they find me?
It was Robert.
Vesco? I saw him.
He was working with Wujing.
He was.
You had them put me in a trunk, you son of a bitch.
You deserve a lot worse.
What do you have to say for yourself?
I'm in!
No!
Poor bastard bought the whole thing.
We got to celebrate.
I have a bottle of something here.
Oh, I can do one drink.
Okay, two.
After Wujing approached him,
Robert confronted me with Wujing's allegations.
So I told him the truth, and he loved it.
You know Robert.
He said I'd achieved what every criminal dreams of.
So Robert went back to Wujing as a mole.
He was supposed to gather information and...
He called from the place where you were being held.
Didn't say anything, but he managed to keep the call
going long enough for Chuck to run a trace.
Have you heard from him since?
Oh, well, I'd better get back.
His minion's picking me up in an hour.
-As soon as you know anything-- -You're my first call.
Robert, if you're not up to this...
I'm only going to say this once, Raymond,
so I want you to listen very carefully.
If you ever try to toss me a parachute like that again,
it'll be the last thing you ever do.
You understand?
Raymond, if you haven't heard from him...
He'll reach out when it's safe.
You rest, Dembe.
I couldn't stop praising you for your deceptive gifts,
could I?
And all this while you were using it on me.
Well, don't be too hard on yourself, Wu-wu.
I'm just that good.
I wonder, if you hadn't acted so foolishly
trying to save Agent Zuma,
how long this little charade would have continued.
And now, we'll never know.
Shame.
And to think poor doctor psychopath won't get to finish her comeback tour.
Oh, I wouldn't say I'm finished.
Easy, darling. I'll save you the trouble.
I've never been to any task force headquarters,
I don't know about any other FBI agent other than Dembe,
and Raymond never said a word to me about,
uh, an immunity agreement.
He's lying.
But one thing I do know, it's just a matter of time
before Reddington puts a bullet in the lot of you.
And what makes you so sure of that?
Because he's Raymond Reddington.
Siya?
Any word on Wujing or Perillos?
Not yet, but Cooper called.
Dembe's recovering, thanks to you.
You mean thanks to Reddington.
Him, too.
I've spent my entire career digging through secrets,
confronting dangerous people capable of despicable things,
but I-I had no idea such people,
such places, existed.
Well, that's the point.
The Blacklist exists so that we can go after criminals
that we never would have heard of without Reddington.
That sounds great in theory.
Until your partner's kidnapped by a sadistic pain specialist
and nearly tortured to death.
I've spent weeks elbow deep in your case files,
but still...
No one's ready for this kind of thing.
I don't care who you are or how much you've read.
Nothing prepares you for this.
Look, don't worry. It won't get any easier.
That's very comforting, thank you.
I mean it. There's a cost.
I don't think you need to lecture me
about the cost of The Blacklist, Agent Ressler.
I'm not talking about the people you lose.
I'm talking about what happens to the ones who survive.
This work changes people.
It changed me, and I'm not sure if it was for the best.
You wanted to know about what your mother did?
Well, this is it, and believe me,
Dr. Perillos is just the tip of the iceberg.
Clear!
Cut him loose. Bring the body.