♪ ♪
Boy: "There will be no mob justice today.
Trust in the law."
(siren wailing outside)
(playing discordant music)
(sobbing softly)
(siren continuing)
‐(explosion, debris clattering) ‐Boy: Mama!
(panicked voices shouting outside)
‐(siren wailing) ‐(door thumps open)
(distant gunshot echoes)
It's time to go.
(engine roaring)
(panicked shouting, screaming)
(gunshots echoing)
‐(gunshots) ‐(men cry out)
(distant woman screaming)
‐(gunshot) ‐Woman: Run! Run!
‐(bullet whizzes) ‐Woman: Hurry!
Man: Don't backtalk me, boy! Get up there!
Come on! Come on!
(horn blaring)
(woman grunts, screams)
Man: Stay down!
(screams)
(gunshot)
Man: Hey! Get back here!
Get back here!
Get 'em!
Over there!
‐(bullets whizzes) ‐Watch out!
All right. We're here.
I told you, ain't no room!
Just the boy then.
Hey! Hey! Goddammit, O. B.!
It's gonna be okay, baby. All right?
You're gonna go with Heck and Liddy,
and they're gonna get you someplace safe.
Are you comin' too?
We're gonna be right behind you, all right?
‐Man: Get her! ‐(woman screams)
Mechanic: We gotta go now!
Don't move.
Hey, get your thumb out your mouth, boy.
O.B., come on! We gotta go!
‐Be strong. ‐Okay.
Get down.
(truck engine rumbling)
(gunshot)
‐(shouting) ‐(guns firing)
(plane roaring)
(exploding)
(crickets chirring)
(groans softly)
(baby whines)
(whines)
(crying)
You're okay.
♪ ♪
(hip‐hop music playing)
♪ Plain Jane, Jackie Chan, Richard Mille ♪
♪ You gon' be the one, bust it down, I can see it ♪
♪ Diamonds in the face crushed up, I can see it ♪
‐ ♪ Wheezy outta here ♪ ‐ ♪ Diamonds in the face crushed up, I can see it ♪
♪ Diamonds in the face crushed up, I can see it ♪
♪ Diamonds in the face, di‐diamonds in the face ♪
♪ Half a ticket for my wrist, spill so big ♪
♪ I put five pointers in the face, you can see it ♪
♪ I just put my whole damn arm in the fridge ♪
‐♪ Ten chains on, lucky charms... ♪ ‐(siren chirps)
Aah, shit!
Shit, shit.
(muffled hip‐hop song continuing)
(music stops)
(exhales)
Policeman: This interaction is being recorded.
Do you consent?
Yes, sir. Sure.
It is... 9:35 p. M., September 8, 2019.
Initiated traffic stop.
How are you tonight, sir?
Good. Yeah, fine. Thanks.
‐How are you? ‐What you drinking there?
Oh, uh...
Coca‐Cola, sir.
Mm.
What are you hauling?
Lettuce.
Lettuce?
‐Yes, sir. ‐Can I take a look?
Can I take a look at your face? (Snickers)
What did you just say to me?
Hey, I'm‐I'm sorry, officer.
‐I was just kidding. ‐License and registration.
They're in the glove.
I'm just gonna reach over and open it on up, okay?
Go ahead.
♪ ♪
Three‐five, returned to vehicle.
I need Weapons Autho. Who's on the desk?
Dispatch (on radio): Panda. I'll patch you through.
Shit. No, wait. Is there anyone else‐‐
Panda (on radio): This is Panda. What's up?
Hey, I just made a traffic stop.
Subject refused a search of his truck,
and I observed Kavalry contraband in his glove.
Requesting firearm lock release.
What kind of contraband?
It was a Rorschach mask.
Are you sure?
I saw it. Panda, come on.
Release my weapon.
Probability of drugs and/or alcohol
‐ in the subject's vehicle? ‐High.
Probability of firearms and/or explosives
‐ in the vehicle? ‐High.
What's your overall perceived threat level from the subject?
High. Just... buzz me, okay?
Stand by.
(holster buzzes)
It's not working, I didn't get it.
Buzz me again, man.
(sighs): Stand by.
(holster buzzes)
We good?
Yeah, I got it. Thank you.
(rapid gunfire)
(glass clinking)
(light ticking rhythmically)
(grunts softly)
(light ticking rhythmically)
(orchestra playing lively melody)
♪ Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweeping down the plain ♪
♪ And the waving wheat can sure smell sweet ♪
♪ When the wind comes right behind the rain ♪
♪ Oklahoma, every night my honey‐lamb and I ♪
♪ Every night we sit alone and talk and watch a hawk ♪
♪ Making lazy circles in the sky ♪
♪ We know we belong to the land ♪
♪ And the land we belong to is grand ♪
♪ And when we say, Hey! Yeeow‐a‐yip‐I‐o‐ee ay! ♪
♪ We're only saying you're doin' fine, Oklahoma ♪
♪ Oklahoma, okay ♪
‐♪ Okla‐homa, Okla‐homa ♪ ‐(snapping fingers rhythmically)
♪ Okla‐homa, Okla‐‐ ♪
♪ We know we belong to the land ♪
♪ And the land we belong to is grand ♪
♪ And when we say, yeeow‐a‐yip‐I‐o‐ee ay! ♪
♪ We're only saying you're doin' fine, Oklahoma ♪
♪ Oklahoma, O‐K‐L‐A‐H‐O‐M‐A ♪
♪ Oklahoma! ♪
(audience cheering, applauding)
They bring my uniform up?
Next room over.
(monitors beeping)
(clears throat)
‐Mind if I have a minute? ‐Nurse: Of course, sir.
You running background checks on all the nurses
and orderlies that saw his face?
Yep.
We got roadblocks up on all the egresses,
but he's probably gone to ground.
Sent a couple units out to the address on his DL,
but the house was boarded up.
‐Kavalry? ‐More than likely.
You want me to call in Red and Night?
No.
(sighs)
Let 'em sleep.
She gonna be pissed.
Why in Christ's name would they start this shit up again?
Maybe there was somethin' in the truck
they didn't want found.
Somethin' like what?
There was a head of lettuce in Sutton's car.
Shooter must've tossed it in.
I believe it was romaine.
Were there any croutons?
Not that I could ascertain.
You don't start a war over goddamn lettuce, Wade.
Come over here and pull your face down.
♪ ♪
Mrs. Sutton?
Roberta.
Roberta, I'm Judd.
May I come in?
(whispers): Yeah.
There was a shooting.
Charlie's in surgery now.
When he's out, we're gonna move him
to our secure medical facility over at the precinct.
Ah. Okay.
Can I go see him?
Of course.
Did he tell anyone that he was police?
That's against the rules.
Yeah.
But people still talk.
He didn't.
Where did he tell folks that he was going when he was on shift?
Night school, for engineering.
All right.
We'll say it was a carjacking.
He was leaving school and that's when he got shot.
Why?
We have protocols.
We just want to keep everybody safe.
Safe. (Scoffs)
‐Yeah, I know what you're thinkin'. ‐Mm‐hmm.
Fuck me and the horse I rode in on.
He liked you.
No. He likes me.
♪ ♪
Woman: Egg whites are made of protein.
When we whip 'em, we get bubbles,
and it's the proteins that form the walls of those bubbles.
If we don't have walls, it all comes tumblin' down.
Now, those walls are strong, but they won't stay that way
if just even a little bit of yolk
gets mixed in with the whites.
So, that's why we gotta separate 'em.
‐Ta‐da! ‐Kids: Wow!
Boy: Can we eat our cookies now, please?
Y'all go ahead.
Teacher: Okay, Ms. Abar, while they're stuffing their faces,
maybe you can explain to them what they're eating.
Ms. Abar: Oh, um...
It's called a banh bia.
When I was a little girl in Vietnam,
we called them "mooncakes."
Oh, were you born there before or after it became a state?
Um, a couple years before.
Um, I was born just outside of Saigon
and when I grew up, I was a police officer there
until I moved here to Tulsa.
Did you stay a police officer?
For a while, then I retired.
Boy: Why?
Um...
I was one of the cops who got attacked on the White Night.
And that was before police officers were allowed to wear masks.
So, the bad guys, they knew who I was
and they knew where I lived,
and they came to my house and they shot me.
Right here.
And the doctors, they had to pull apart my insides
to find the bullet and get it out
‐'cause they didn't want it to‐‐ ‐Ahem.
Oh, um, anyway.
I figured making cakes and cookies
was better than getting shot.
So, I quit the police force and opened up a bakery.
Mm‐hmm?
Did Redfordations pay for it?
Excuse me?
Your bakery‐‐ did you pay for it with Redfordations?
Tommy!
‐(boy yells) ‐(kids chattering excitedly)
Ooh! Topher!
Don't tilt your head back, just pinch your nose.
Why'd you hit him?
'Cause you wanted to hit him.
He's ten years old.
You still wanted to.
He said... Redfordations.
I heard him.
‐He's a racist. ‐He's not racist.
But he's off to a good start.
(siren wailing)
Oh, goddammit.
(siren continuing)
‐Maybe it's a false‐‐ ‐(splattering)
♪ 'Cause every little thing is gonna be all right ♪
‐♪ Singing' don't worry ♪ ‐♪ Don't worry ♪
‐♪ About a thing ♪ ‐♪ About a thing ♪
♪ 'Cause every little thing is gonna be all right ♪
♪ Woke up this morning ♪
♪ Smiled at the rising sun... ♪
It smells.
Well, at least your nose is working.
♪ Singin' a sweet song ♪
♪ A melody pure and true ♪
‐Oh, get the truck. ‐Girl: Get the truck!
Hey.
‐We're cleaning up the squids. ‐Thanks, baby!
Hey, you left your pager. It's been going off all morning.
What's Little Big Horn?
I gotta go to the bakery.
You pick up Rosie from school?
Of course.
Sweetie, I need you to go with Dad
and pick up your sister from school, okay?
Don't let him drive too fast.
‐I love you, sweetie. ‐Love you too, Mommy.
I also love you.
Don't drive fast.
No TV!
Man (over blimp PA): The clock is ticking.
The New York Times is calling it
the most important television event of the new millennium.
Tomorrow night, the countdown ends.
American Hero Story: Minutemen.
♪ ♪
‐Do you own that place? ‐Mm‐hmm.
‐When is gonna open? ‐A couple months.
Mm‐hmm.
I'll wait.
Hey.
You think I can lift 200 pounds?
Sure you could.
(keypad beeping)
♪ ♪
(dogs barking)
Whoa! Hey!
(tires screech)
♪ ♪
Man (in distorted voice): Cop carcass on the highway last night.
Soon, the accumulated black filth will be hosed away,
and the streets of Tulsa will turn into extended gutters
overflowing with liberal tears.
Soon all the whores and race traitors will shout "Save us!"
And we will whisper... No.
We are the Seventh Kavalry.
We are no one. We are everyone. We are invisible.
And we will never compromise.
Do not stand between us and our mission,
or there will be more dead cops.
There are so many deserving of retribution
and there is so little time.
And that time is near.
Ticktock.Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock.
Kalvarymen (chanting): Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock.
Ticktock.Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock.
(chanting grows louder, faster): Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock.
Ticktock! Ticktock! Ticktock! Ticktock!
(chanting stops)
Kavalry's back.
(murmuring)
Three years of peace,
and we convinced ourselves that they were gone.
But they were just hibernating.
Good thing we know where their caves are.
(murmuring assent)
So roll into Nixonville and round 'em up,
and drag their asses into the pod for interrogation.
One of them's gonna give up the shooter.
Pirate Jenny: Warrants‐free, weapons hot?
We are Article Four.
Panda, buzz out the guns.
(crowd groaning)
"An emergency 24‐hour release of deadly weapons
‐"can be authorized only... ‐Shut the fuck up, Panda.
"...if the majority of the police force
believe their lives are under direct immediate threat."
LG...
do you believe your life is under direct and immediate threat?
Yes, I do.
What about you, Red?
Absolutely.
(crowd assenting)
Firearms release is authorized.
‐(applauding) ‐Chief, you're making a mistake.
Yeah, well...
it's my funeral.
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
All: Nos costodimus!
(indistinct chattering)
Angela: Why didn't you call me?
Wanna take your feet off my desk, please?
Kavalry involved shooting last night,
and I don't get a Little Big Horn until two hours ago?
We were still working the scene. It was late.
Mm. I know why you didn't call me.
Why?
You were mad that my sitter bailed
and you had to suffer through black Oklahoma
without having someone to roll your eyes at.
‐Sitter bailed? ‐Yes.
Well, you and Cal missed out,
because black Oklahoma was delightful.
You are not allowed to call it that.
You gonna give me the speech now?
What speech?
About how I'm overreacting by calling Article Four,
and I should calm down and take a breath before we're at war again.
There's a guy in my trunk.
I knew you were gonna tell us to round up the likelies.
I just got a jump on things.
You knew?
Yes.
How do you know he's Seven K?
I got a nose for white supremacy, and he smells like bleach.
So, put him in the pod?
Put him in the pod.
Howdy.
I'm just gonna ask you a series of questions.
Answer them honestly and you can go home.
Do you know why you're here?
Some bitch dressed like a nun
kicked in my door and put me in the trunk of her fucking car.
That is correct.
I want my lawyer.
Looking Glass: Yeah, we really don't have to do that with terrorists.
I‐‐ I'm not a terrorist.
(whirring)
How long have you lived in Tulsa?
(whirring)
Uh, five years‐‐ six. Almost six.
What did you have for breakfast this morning?
Cereal, I think.
If I defecated on the American flag,
how would that make you feel?
Defecated?
Shit. If I took a shit on the American flag,
how would that make you feel?
Confused.
Are you a member of or do you associate with
members of the white supremacist organization
known as the Seventh Kavalry?
No.
Do you believe that transdimensional attacks
are hoaxes staged by the U. S. Government?
I dunno, maybe.
Are you a member of or do you associate with
members of the white supremacist organization
known as the Seventh Kavalry?
You already asked me that.
‐Should all Americans pay taxes? ‐Yes.
Are you a member of or do you associate with
members of the white supremacist organization
known as the Seventh Kavalry?
Are you a member of or do you associate with
members of the white supremacist organization
known as the Seventh Kavalry?
Are you a member of or do you associate with
members of the white supremacist group
known as the Seventh Kavalry?
No... No.
♪ ♪
(whirring)
Angela: Well?
He knows.
You sure?
He's not gonna talk sans motivation,
but he was off the charts on the bias questions.
Eyes dilated on all the Rorschachs.
Yeah. I'm sure.
Like I said...
bleach.
♪ ♪
Angela: Cop got shot, so we're all a little wound up here.
But still that's no excuse for how I treated you.
Sorry.
Yeah, okay.
Appreciate your understanding.
(screams, grunts)
Fuck!
Fuck you!
‐(blows thudding) ‐Angela: Where... is... he?
‐Where is he?! ‐(man screaming)
‐Where... is... he?! ‐(blows thudding)
‐(man shouting, screaming) ‐Where is he?!
‐(blows thudding)
‐Where is he?! ‐(thuds)
(man groans)
(panting)
Cattle ranch.
♪ ♪
Sister Night: We're almost at the house. Is there any movement inside?
Night (over radio): Do you got a head count?
Looks like four.
Crawford (over radio): Maybe five.
(alarm buzzing)
Cops! Pack it up! Let's go!
Let's head on out! Come on!
Aw, shit! They're moving!
Go. Go now!
♪ ♪
Man: Take that.
Woman: All right. Come on, boys, let's go!
Come on! Come on!
(chattering indistinctly)
Night: Down! Down! Everybody down!
‐(rapid gunfire) ‐(cattle mooing)
Pirate Jenny: They've got a fucking plane.
Woman: Come on, go!
♪ ♪
(gunshot)
Aah!
(both grunting)
(cocks pistol)
Fucker!
Spit it out! Spit it out, motherfucker!
Spit it out!
(gurgling)
Fuck!
Pill?
Fucking coward!
Where are the others?
‐(propellers buzzing) ‐Night: Shit!
Crawford! Crawford! Two of them got out.
They're taking off. They're right under you.
All right. Bring her out.
♪ ♪
Crawford: Good.
Stay with 'em.
Crawford: Higher.
‐Higher, damn it! ‐I'm trying!
Pirate Jenny: Chief, fucking quit! The ship can't take it!
♪ ♪
Fuck!
(crackling)
(grunting)
(pops, thuds)
Are you okay?
(Crawford laughing)
Oh, shit!
(laughing)
Night: What the fuck?
(laughing)
♪ ♪
(rider shouts)
‐Welcome home, Master. ‐Thank you, Alphonse.
Your thighs are quite raw, Master.
Yes, I rode quite a distance yesterday.
But don't worry, Ms. Crookshanks.
Have at it.
Philips: Sir.
Shall I dress you?
Looks a little formal, Mr. Philips.
‐Is it a special occasion? ‐Of course it is, Master.
It's your anniversary.
Ah. Hmm.
Both: ♪ For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
Well, it looks delicious.
We used the honeycomb you gave us, Master.
Ah.
Would you like to cut it, sir?
That is a horseshoe, Mr. Philips.
I'm so sorry, sir.
‐Would a knife be more appropriate? ‐No, it's...
It's all right.
It's the bee's knees.
Mmm.
Happy anniversary, Master.
Philips: You had discarded some drawings of it, sir.
The pieces were most intricate.
But I tried my very best to get it to function.
I...
wanted to surprise you, sir.
It's exquisite, Mr. Philips.
Speaking of surprises, I have a surprise for you.
I've started writing a play.
It's a tragedy in five acts.
When it's finished, I want the two of you...
to play the leading roles.
(chuckles softly)
And what do you call it, Master?
The Watchmaker's Son.
♪ Unforgettable... ♪
Both: The Watchmaker's Son.
(lively chattering)
Rosie, Emma: Truman, President Eisenhower, President...
Topher: Okay, we get it!
Rosie, Emma: ...Nixon, President Ford, President Redford!
‐Angela: All right, baby girl! ‐I'm gonna get another bottle.
Jane Crawford: Rosie and Emma, I am officially convinced
that one day another little girl will be listing your names.
‐(girls giggling) ‐Cal: You hear that?
Maybe Aunt Jane will be your campaign manager.
Jane: Alas, as wonderful a president
as you both would be, I've quit politics.
Rosie: My mommy quit her job too. She was a policeman.
Angela: Um, I didn't quit, sweetheart. I retired.
‐(Crawford sniffing) ‐Topher: What's the difference?
Cal: Topher, don't be disrespectful.
Better not stand up for her or she'll take away your TV too.
(chuckles) All right.
Cal, I'm taking away your TV.
Rosie: Ha‐ha! Mommy took your TV away!
‐(laughing) ‐Wait a minute. What happened? What'd I miss?
Rosie, Emma: No TV for anybody!
Oh, no! That's horrible!
Crawford: Cal, this was a wonderful meal.
Totally worth getting ditched for Oklahoma.
Ditched for what?
‐(Angela clears throat) ‐Oh.
Oh, well, you didn't even tell him?
‐I spared him. ‐What? What's happening?
You didn't know that your sitter bailed?
Babe, you hate musicals.
(chuckles)
Nobody hates Oklahoma!
‐You did. ‐No. I thought it was great.
Then why'd you tell me at intermission
that their hearts weren't in it, hmm?
‐Really? Okay. ‐Yeah... (mutters)
He's just jealous because he played Curly in high school.
No way!
Rosie, Emma: Who's Curly?
Curly‐‐ Curly is the star of Oklahoma.
He gets the girl, he kills the bad guy,
‐and he sings a lot. ‐Sing, Uncle Judd!
‐No, no, no. ‐Yeah, Uncle Judd, sing!
No. No!
All (chanting): Sing! Sing! Sing!
♪ Some people claim that you are to blame as much as I! ♪
♪ Why do I take the trouble to bake my favorite pie? ♪
♪ Don't take my arm too much ♪
♪ Don't put your hand in mine ♪
Cal: Of course he sings.
♪ Your hand feels so grand in mine ♪
♪ People will say we're in love ♪
(all laughing)
‐♪ Don't dance all night with me ♪ ‐Oh, my turn.
♪ Till the stars fade from above ♪
(clock ticking)
♪ They'll see it's all right with me ♪
♪ People will say ♪
♪ We're in love ♪
(applause, cheers)
(clock ticking)
‐Crawford: Watch batteries? ‐Angela: Mm‐hmm. Pulled a duffle out of that plane you blew up.
There was a couple hundred of them in there.
Well, can't you just buy those at any old store?
No. Not anymore, they're the old kind. The synthetic lithium‐‐
the ones that were making people sick.
Oh, I get it.
Kavalry's gonna make a cancer bomb.
I don't know.
But that fucker in the video said that they had a mission,
and it was gonna happen soon.
Aren't you worried?
Oh, Angela.
I'm worried as fuck.
(clock ticking)
Jane: Hey. What are you two talking about that's taking so long?
Oh, nothing. Just the end of the world.
Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock. Ticktock.
(clock ticking)
Man: The clock is ticking.
We're running out of time.
Evil is rising.
Second by second we all cry out...
(narration continues indistinctly)
Crawford: Yes, sir. You bet. We got them all.
Well, shooter took some sort of damn poison pill
before we could interrogate him, but... you know.
Uh, well...
Yeah, there's always a chance of reprisal, Governor,
but we just gave 'em a pretty good taste
of what happens when you take one of ours.
Well, you're welcome, Governor.
Bye now.
‐How'd I do? ‐You sounded very confident.
That's because, my dear, I am full of confidence.
Yeah, I noticed some of it coming out of your nose at dinner.
(chuckles)
It's been a tough week.
Yeah.
(phone vibrates, beeps)
It's the hospital.
‐Charlie Sutton just woke up. ‐Oh.
Crawford: I'm gonna change into my uniform,
and I'm gonna go over there and I'm gonna see him.
Jane: Baby, maybe you shouldn't drive.
Crawford: I'll get one of the boys out front to take me.
(soft kiss)
You don't have to wait up for me.
♪ ♪
(radio playing indistinctly)
Radio Host: But it's a helluva name, isn't it?
Senator Joe Keene was a real cowboy,
unlike our current Sundancer in Chief.
Thirty years of Redford and what've we got to show for it?
More land we can't live on, more animals we can't kill,
and a six‐month wait to get a gun for our own protection.
Hell, if Joe Junior wants to mount up
and gallop into the White House, I say let him ride!
‐(loud popping) ‐(tires screeching)
♪ ♪
Shit.
(heavy breathing, moaning)
‐(both chuckling) ‐Angela: Oh! Jeez...
(phone ringing)
(phone continuing)
We should‐‐ we should answer that.
No. I'm close, I'm close.
(moaning)
It's gonna wake up the kids.
Okay, okay, okay.
Goddammit.
(phone rings)
Hello.
Man (on phone): Is this Angela Abar?
Yes.
Is your father Marcus Abar?
Who is this?
Big oak tree out on Rowland Hill.
Something you need to see there.
I know who you are,
so don't wear no goddamned mask.
(line clicks, dial tone drones)
What?
Watch the street. If anybody pulls up other than me,
fucking shoot 'em before they get to the porch.
Okay.
♪ ♪
Turn it off!
‐(cocks rifle) ‐Or I'll shoot!
♪ ♪
(gasps)
(owl hoots)
(owl hooting)
(rope creaking)
♪ ♪
♪ Poor Jud is dead ♪
♪ Poor Jud Fry is dead ♪
♪ All gather round his coffin now and cry ♪
♪ He looks like he's asleep ♪
♪ It's a shame that he won't keep ♪
♪ But it's summer and we're running out of ice ♪
♪ Poor... ♪
♪ Jud ♪
♪ ♪
(clock ticking)
ANGELA ABAR: Who are you?
WILL REEVES: I'm the one who strung your chief of police up.
You're 90 fucking years old, how the fuck did you hang him?
I am 105, and you curse too much.
ANGELA: You didn't kill him.
This doesn't make any sense.
Just get those fuckers who did this to him.
Okay.
Laurie Blake, FBI. I'm here to help.
SENATOR KEENE: Folks assume the Seventh Kalvary did it.
But that's not what you assume?
ANGELA: There are people who believe that this world...
is fair and good.
It's all lollipops and rainbows.
We don't do lollipops and rainbows.
'Cause we know those are pretty colors,
that just hide what the world really is...
black and white.
♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS) ♪
LORD OF A COUNTRY ESTATE: The only way to stave off mankind's extinction
is with a weapon more powerful than any atomic device.
That weapon...
is fear.
REEVES: There's a vast and insidious conspiracy at play.
♪ (MUSIC INTENSIFIES) ♪
I have a secret plan to save humanity.
And it starts in Oklahoma.
She threatens to disrupt the peace.
(PIGS SQUEALING)
CAL ABAR: Are we safe, Angela?
What did you do?
Mankind is ready for change.
(CLOCK TICKING)
♪ (MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪
♪ (DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS) ♪
CATHERINE: So many people want the Russian throne.
You have no idea how difficult it is to maintain such a thing.
How many the dangers.
How varied the directions from which they emerge.
But I survive,
as I have survived for half a century.
♪ (MUSIC STOPS) ♪
I will not share my throne with anyone.
♪ (MUSIC CONTINUES, CONCLUDES) ♪