Previously on Billions.
Truman had a sign on his desk
that said, "The buck stops here."
Mine's gonna say, "I am the buck."
It's one thing to help keep the trains running
when it was just about Prince staying rich and getting richer.
But I have decided that he is dangerous.
Mr. Rhoads, charges are dismissed.
You are free to go.
What's got your eye?
You must be fielding job offers by the dozen.
I'm talking about US Attorney,
Southern district of New York.
- This guy's a fuckin' badass! - Olé!
This is the best thing that's ever happened on this floor.
He's got that "Winston Dick Energy" happening.
And when we win,
you'll be feted as a miracle worker.
You're not a politician.
You're hoping to contribute by doing a public service.
A statesman.
Let's do this!
Mr. President.
It is an honor to hear from you.
Hi, Mr. Wagner.
Let's see what's in the old footlocker, Omar.
Let me get you your bottle.
Oh the heads that turn
Make my back burn
And those heads that turn
Make my back, Make my back burn
Here's your bottle.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the author himself, Michael Lewis.
So the street has changed.
It's been cleaned up. Sanitized.
I mean, no one says "fuck" anymore.
They've taken the strippers off
the trading floors.
In a way, the lie has gone deeper
because no one on the outside
looks the way they are on the inside.
Except for you. I think of you as the last holdout.
The last wolves in wolves' clothing.
The last crass motherfuckers.
So in that spirit,
let's raise a glass to crass motherfuckers
and the 35th anniversary of Liar's Poker.
What a beautiful con you've pulled, Lewis.
They all think Liar's Poker was a love letter to them. Kudos.
It wasn't a con, Wags. I just wrote it the way it was.
And people see in it what they want to see.
Hmm. Like disco balls and coke mirrors.
Salut.
Hey, you really got us right. Thanks.
You're gonna have to tell me your name.
- Clark. - Ah, Clark.
Eric fuckin' Scott.
Wags!
Glad to see you haven't decamped to Florida yet
like the the rest of 'em.
I must love taxes
and a bodega bacon, egg and cheese.
That's why I'm still slugging it out in Gotham.
No, the rumor is your guy's rolling in Europe.
New guy, new money now.
And I'm making room in the Ark for a select few old friends.
Mike Wagner playing pitchman? Sad.
Maybe New York is dead after all
and I should be packing for Brickell.
I'm not selling you a Veg-O-Matic here, buddy.
I'm giving you a chance to turn your wad over
a last time or two.
Let's drink on this.
You are a legend, Wags,
so I wanna hear you out.
You're the guy that ran up a tab so high at Ponte's
that Joe almost had to take out a mob loan
just to keep serving those angry lobsters.
Oh, Ponte's was nothing.
Do you remember when you went to Career Day
for that escort's kid?
What was that, '96? That fucking killed me.
Her name was Claire. She was special to me.
Right, Claire.
You hired her for, uh,
that Tiger Cub's bachelor party.
Oh, that's right. The poor guy got simplex
on his lip on his wedding day.
You hired him 'cause you felt so bad.
Yeah, till he tanked one quarter
and Wags used his desk as a urinal.
Well, there was a day
you stepped wrong on Wags' trading floor,
and he would bloody you up like Jake the Muss.
I can still walk the walk.
Mm.
You should hear me on this:
Michael Prince Capital is where you want to be.
We're not taking on institutional money,
but like I said...
I can get exceptions made for you lugs.
And I'll make some room in the fund
for some of your clients, but only the A-listers.
Make you look like superstars.
You always did have the best ideas about...
which club to hit after the Super Bowl,
or where to get the best space cakes in Amsterdam.
And he killed it 'cause that fucking attitude
drove you like Max Verstappen.
No offense, but now...
you got about as much edge as Barry Manilow.
Offense fucking taken.
Hey, hey, hey,
everybody gets left behind at some point.
You privately embrace your obsolescence
and hope nobody notices for a while.
Speak for yourself, motherfucker.
It was one thing when you worked for a bad ass,
but now you're in a politician's stable,
which is one step away from the fucking glue factory.
Keep talking and I'll mollywop ya right here
in front of the whole gang.
I'll wait a while for the Cialis to kick in.
Hey, Omar,
put my bottle back in the locker.
Let these assholes go back
to choking on their usual swill.
Well, he got fucking sensitive.
You couldn't buy it for yourself,
so I figured I would.
It's perfect.
Heading out?
Yeah, but you might not want to
leave the office for a while.
Oh, the going away thing, yeah.
Scooter's got it. I-I have something else.
Gratitude, shame, entitlement,
these are our...
I don't really traffic in that crap.
No, on this occasion, the eve of my departure,
I would like to say to you all...
I would like to say: You're welcome,
for all that I've brought to MPC.
And in the words of the great poet DJ Khaled,
"Every time I step up in the building,
everybody hands go up,
and they stay there.
'Cause all I do is win."
Anyone else care to say something?
- You sure? - Is it weird that I'll miss him?
- Objectively, yes. - Right?
- Yeah, fuck you, Winston. - But after the "Princident,"
Winston was the only one who looked at me the same way.
But that way was slavish and pathetic.
Don't be shy. Anybody?
Okay, then. I'll just say one more thing.
Ah, actually, Winston, I have something to share.
Is Prince coming?
Uh, no. No, he's not.
He's... not.
But he did ask me to convey to you
that you truly have been a member of this...
- Team! - He said "organization."
He usually calls it a team.
This time he went with organization.
And so, yeah.
Goodbye and thanks.
Goodbye.
I hate it. And you're proposing to send a copy of it
to Chuck Rhoades? I hate everything about that.
Can you figure out why I love it?
Are you that good?
Okay. Okay.
The purpose of a Super PAC is to get
high-net-worth supporters to invest in your candidacy
in a way that seems arms-length. You know this.
The idea is not to put yourself in a position
where you're gonna face federal charges.
That is, I concede, the usual plan.
Ah.
You're running a dye test here.
You want to see if Chuck Rhoades is paying attention?
Okay. A trainer feeds a caged tiger fresh beef
so it develops a taste for that instead of trainer.
The tiger's waiting by his door, same time every day,
ready to pounce on it.
But you know the scariest moment of a trainer's life?
When he goes inside the enclosure
and the cat isn't there.
They can't see it.
Doesn't mean that cat escaped,
it means it's hiding,
ready to revert to its nature and hunt.
I can't afford to let Chuck Rhoades
revert to his nature.
So you're feeding him some red meat,
so you know exactly where he's coming from.
That's right.
Still hate it.
Can I still hate it? 'Cause...
...still hate it.
Kate Sacker's gonna get it to him.
Hi, Wendy.
I was wondering if you could write me a prescription.
For Wellbutrin.
Um, if necessary, of course.
Why don't we set an intake session for tomorrow
- then we can decide-- - I only need one, actually.
One pill?
I've been taking it for a while now,
and it's a good fit.
I just dropped my last one down the sink this morning,
and my, uh,
prescriber has been out of town for a couple of days.
I'll be able to get my full refill soon.
Your "prescriber"-- you mean your GP?
Um...
- Yeah. - Ben Kim,
who prescribed the Wellbutrin?
Fine. I've been seeing an outside psychiatrist.
She prescribed the meds,
but she's been in Vienna for a conference.
Getting back tomorrow night.
I see. Um...
How long have you been seeing this doctor?
Respectfully, this is separate from what you do.
We all think you're an awesome performance coach--
Three months? Longer?
Six months.
So, um...
will you help?
With the prescription?
Of course, yes.
"We all." Who else is seeing her?
I assume we're taking down the Russ & Daughters novi
in this random office so that yours doesn't smell like
an appetizing shop during your next meeting?
Actually, this is your office.
If you want it.
"Come join me for a celebratory kickoff breakfast, Ira."
Of course, it couldn't be just that. It was a trap.
Oh!
Trap sounds so sinister. No. It's an opportunity.
Come on, you've got the money,
you've got the wife, the new kid.
But you know what you're missing?
An alpaca?
The juice! The action!
Sense of mission.
The long hours. The long odds.
The shitty pay.
Ah, Chuck, I've been a prosecutor before--
N-n-no, we were just line prosses back then.
Answering up. You've never done it with me in charge.
Only running the ops we choose, fighting back to back,
no matter how outgunned by
pricey douchebag defense attorneys.
Taking down the even bigger douchebags who employ them.
Be my Deputy US Attorney.
Nope. No way.
I'm sorry. You know I'd love to spend all day
hanging with you. That's the alluring part.
- Mm. - And the...
chance to do a thing that actually matters does appeal...
I'll stay quiet and let you talk yourself into it.
But you know we'd end up arguing all day.
There's no conversation more boring
than the one where everyone agrees.
Montaigne's a deep pull, I'll give you that.
Oh.
Swabbies are on the deck, boss.
Ah, I see you've succeeded with one recruit at least.
Just one? You sure? At least one.
I am genuinely thrilled to be here.
And I don't thrill easy.
Uh-uh.
Oh, we're going to hold the rich and powerful
and criminal accountable for their actions,
no matter the cost.
I want you to go back to your desks
and pull the cases you thought were too hot,
too hard, too close to the third rail.
Pitch me those cases--
directly, not through channels--
and together we will take that unformed carbon
and pressurize it into diamonds.
Into wins.
All right, let's do it.
Fuck no, I don't see a shrink.
Do you talk about work with your other therapist?
Yes.
But it's a totally separate thing.
Church and state, you know?
Dr. Mayer is your classic Freudian.
She's all about getting to the "why,"
even if it has unexpected results.
It's a trip.
Seems I have a lot of resentment for maternal figures in my life.
I mostly talk about weird recurring dreams with her.
Like, you don't need to know about sex dreams, right?
It's not work relevant.
Except like, when it's about the displacement
and sublimation of my desires in the workplace.
But it's only sometimes about that.
I know my rights.
That includes the Patient's Bill of Rights,
to not discuss shit about what I discuss
or with whom I discuss.
- So there is someone? - Or if I discuss.
I tell all my friends, just because a cop asks a question
doesn't mean you gotta answer.
I owe Dr. Mayer big time.
I used to wake up from about 3 to 4 a.m. each night
replaying this conversation I had once with an ex.
What kind of conversation?
Well, that's between me and the doc.
But the thing is, it's gone.
And now I'm all Z's from eyes shut
till open in the morning.
So you've never met with Dr. Mayer?
Okay, fine. I just started.
I hardly said anything in my sessions.
So it hasn't really paid off for you?
Can't say that. No.
I'd been burying some of my natural
aggressive tendencies since the fund blew up.
But... well, I'm back to Liver King levels now.
At work and in the bedroom.
I've been using every inch of that Cali King.
Train kept a-rollin' all night long.
Who suggested you see her?
Person who hired me.
Have I not supported you in our work together?
It isn't about that. I am not only the work.
And you can't deny your focus is more on results than people.
Dr. Mayer takes a holistic approach.
So I've heard. I didn't realize my approach was lacking.
Or that you, of all people,
didn't trust me with your whole self.
How are we supposed to move forward
with that sitting between us?
It isn't about trust. Our people needed a real doctor.
- And so did I. - I am a real doctor.
Technically, yes. But I'm not sure anyone here
feels comfortable coming to you with anything
besides work stuff.
And Mayer creates a very safe atmosphere.
A safe feeling, just being around her.
Excuse me.
How do you know she's here?
Security called to let her up.
Who are you here to see, ma'am-- uh, Bonnie?
Drop the bullshit, Peach.
Babe, babe, babe.
I've been waiting for you to step out of those elevators
since I got back here.
But maybe we should talk after work, on the down low.
Jesus Christ. I'm not here for that.
- Oh, yeah. Just-- - Bonnie!
What can we help you with?
It's what I can help you with.
Your former man Winston is shopping
a new piece of risk-management software
on the Street right now.
He pitched it at my firm this morning,
and I haven't seen the principals this excited
since they were rubbing up against me
at the Christmas party.
I heard he left here just yesterday,
so the timing seemed sus.
Goddamnit!
And on my watch. Fuck!
That moonlighting prick. Where does he get the energy?
- Fuck! - You already said "fuck."
But, yeah, you're right.
He must've developed this before he left.
WDE Risk Management. What's WDE...?
Winston Dick Energy.
I don't espouse it, I just know what it stands for.
He said it... often.
Why are you willing to come share this with us?
'Cause if there's one thing I hate more than this place,
it's backstabbing thieves, so I had to set things right.
- No, that's not it-- - Yeah, no way.
Total bullshit.
Fine. I'm looking for a bump in comp at my new firm.
Give me an offer I can use as leverage,
and I'll forward you the pitch deck.
- Right. - Naturally.
That's the Bonnie we know.
We'll write something up and email you.
Still looking fly in that fleece.
Call me.
What kind of AI does it use?
ASI for risk mitigation.
It works automatically across all sectors
to detect hidden exposure throughout the portfolio
and reduce it through a variety
of hedges and other techniques.
The edge this would give on returns is...
- considerable. - We need it back.
And to make it clear that no one takes from us and lives.
Let me be clear that, for the record,
you're speaking in metaphor.
If it makes you feel better.
I'll get an injunction filed right away
to stop him from shopping it.
It's a work for hire. He has no legal leg to stand on.
But what about the optics of Mike taking legal action
against a former employee in this pro-worker environment?
If we don't, we run the risk of losing the tech, full stop.
Say what you're really worried about.
Reputation. Yours. Which is of
particular importance right now. But also mine.
If it becomes public that in my early days at the helm,
someone disrespected me like this...
I'd rather do this quietly.
You talking about reputation or ego?
In this case, there's no difference.
I'm tied up in this shit too, now, since he was,
for a minute, also my employee.
I'll own my mistakes, but give us a minute
to make this thing right.
I'm willing to gamble and give you a minute,
but not much more.
Greed or fear, which will you appeal?
You really want to know?
You have 48 hours, then Kate files the injunction.
I feel obliged to tell you that you are gambling
like Phil Mickelson pressing a Nassau.
It's 48 hours, Kate.
And like Lefty, I can usually make the shot.
I'm not only talking about this.
Ah, you delivered the Super PAC filing to the SDNY.
Yes. But I have a...
low confidence interval on the plan succeeding.
Why's that?
Chuck's always been as smart as you, me, whomever else.
In the past, his emotions have allowed him to forget that.
But I just... don't know that's where we are now.
Thanks.
Okay.
- That case did it for me. - Hmm.
Like reading a Penthouse Forum in days of yore.
Creative application of RICO.
Real teeth there. Instant headlines.
Maybe not the kind we want. Um...
Didn't feel like lightning to me.
What's so distracting?
Prince Super PAC filing
with the Federal Election Commission.
Anything juicy?
Don't get
waylaid with this right now.
Let's make some cases.
You know it.
Amanda Torre, Securities Unit.
When I get face time with the bosses,
I'm not bringing any weak shit.
Oh. We speaking our thoughts aloud, Ms. Torre?
No, what I'm bringing you is a fog-cutter,
a case that's going to make noise in the press.
One that's precedent-setting,
with a high-profile target for a bad guy
and victims you can really pull for.
Oh, and one with a clear road to victory.
Anything less, and I'm wasting your time.
- Quite the wish list. - Wish granted. Here you go.
Pump-and-dump scheme.
Wolf of Wall Street lead broker. Scuzzy lawyers.
- Working people defrauded. - She's playing all the hits.
My SEC contact is ready to formalize a complaint.
The FBI and I turned one of his traders
like she was Adriana La Cerva.
Well, keep her going, then.
Come back when you really have him.
Right now, feels thin.
I'm sorry, um...
what feels thin about this?
Can I get some guidance, or--
Uh, where were you when He laid the foundation of the earth?
The fuck does that mean?
Not to us to question the exalted.
Come on, I'll tell you some war stories.
I know the first prosecution has a lot riding on it,
but we've gotta break the seal at some point.
One should make his decisions
within the space of seven breaths.
So I did.
Gandhi?
Uh, Book of the Samurai.
Well... perfect
is the enemy of the good. Does it say that in there?
We had a stack of winners,
and that was before Ms. Torre walked in.
And she was spittin' truth.
So, what more are we looking for? Clue me in here.
80 and 0, buddy.
That was the personal record at one point.
And I got it by picking the winners,
not betting the swayback nags.
I know what I'm doing.
You sure that's all it is?
There was once an aura amongst federal prosecutors,
something noble and untouchable.
It made them king-like in their ability
to either indict or refuse to charge.
Now my record earned me a part of that,
until I made some... missteps.
But I'm gonna get it back.
For the very honor of the job.
You brought the honor back
the moment you walked into the office again.
I like the office. I can do something from it.
So I can't be rash. And I can't be emotional.
And I have to pick my spots.
You didn't ask me to work by your side
so I'd say nice things to you,
but I'm gonna do it anyway.
You're the best prosecutor ever sat this office
because you used both your intellect and your emotions.
That's why you were 80 and 0.
This is a moment to take risks. You are beloved.
That's the one thing you didn't have last time. Use it.
So you don't lose it.
Okay, I hear you.
But that doesn't mean I can listen to you.
Not yet.
Let me in on curb-stomping Winston.
Philip and I will handle it.
My schedule's light, and this is just my kind of mission.
We got it. Thanks.
What's with you?
- Nothing. - Nah.
I saw the way you reacted to what Winston did.
It wasn't anger in those eyes. It was sadness.
Can't I be both?
You steep that any longer, you may as well suck the bag.
Plus, you don't drink herbal tea.
Minor fucking detail.
Though I might as well start.
That's what obsolete pensioners do, isn't it?
Drink tea, stare into space, and decompose.
Mother's milk.
Better than a spot of zen-relax tea?
It was a fucking eulogy, Wend.
Attending my own funeral.
The whole cast of Liar's Poker dancing on my grave.
It would've been a lot more fun
if I had gotten to fake my own death first.
This is when you throw me some magic
that unlocks everything.
Maybe my magic isn't what you need.
Maybe you need to see... someone.
A different kind of professional.
I've given that up. For the time being.
So you're just a man searching for his next act.
I'm not looking for a next act. I want to go back in time.
You're still the same person, Wags.
It's the circumstances around you that have changed.
The kind of theatrical moves those guys are talking about,
that's in your bones.
You just need to find an opportunity
that'll activate that muscle memory.
And don't wait for permission.
Yes, inject that magic into my veins.
When I was talking about a "professional" before,
I meant... therapist.
A real... therapist.
Oh, you heard about Dr. Mayer, then.
Don't... tell me you're seeing her too.
I assure you, I prefer those depths unplunged.
Unless by you, of course.
Appreciate that.
So, do you know what this chick is all about?
Why they're all so obsessed with her?
The Wendy Rhoades I know
does not speculate or rely on hearsay.
She dives as deep as the fucking Mariana Trench
until she finds the truth among the supergiants at the bottom.
You want to know what this knock-off Melfi is about...
go find out.
And I think you know there is nothing anyone
could Freudian slip into my drink
that'll change the fact that you...
will always be my Dr. Mojo.
Sir?
Ms. Torre, once I pass on a case,
I don't reconsider it
unless there's been some material change.
So, if that's not what you're here to tell me...
This isn't my case.
This is Michael Prince's Super PAC filing.
Deputy Schirmer gave it to me,
said you wanted me to take a look.
Yeah, good, great. And, uh, what did you learn?
Potential violation of 52 USC 30121.
The foreign donor ban.
He wouldn't do something that obvious.
Mm, not sure and not obvious.
There was an LLC that donated called North Country.
The name caught my eye, so I ran the CEO.
He appears to be a Canadian citizen.
You interested in preparing charges?
Leave what you have, I'll-I'll give it a look.
For the record, the case I pitched is a stone winner.
Been saving this one for a special occasion--
Ahh!
Your return to the seat of power.
Applejack?
You stopped at the joint in the corner on your way up.
It's what they had.
And the thought that counts.
You want to drink it or not?
What a sight you are, Charles.
The man back in his natural habitat.
Burning the midnight oil.
Please regale me with your first move.
Nothing I'm ready to share, I'm afraid.
Don't be modest, sonny.
You're sitting on something bold and undeniable, I'm sure.
Mm.
What did Ira tell you?
Ah, just that you're limp as a noodle.
Well, he said gun-shy, but I'm translating.
Oh, that's helpful. Thank you.
- Whoa. - Ohh.
Did you know...
that I stayed faithful to your mother...
for five months after Kevin was born?
Would you like an award for that?
No...
I'm trying to tell you I can relate.
When I became a grandfather,
I vowed to become an upright man,
an example for my grandson.
God, those months felt like years.
I'd lay awake in bed next to her every night, restless.
Nothing spoils the spirit like rote sexual congress.
Dad!
I knew I'd die if I kept on like that,
yet I wasn't ready for divorce.
But when it came to the idea of a new assignation...
the adrenaline rush
was-was almost sickening.
It was like an Acapulco diver on top of a cliff,
trying to... to time the waves so that I didn't go splat.
I was utterly frozen.
Until...
I attended the opening of Bedminster Golf Club.
Did you ever meet his first wife?
Oh, Jesus, Dad, you didn't.
That woman was an athlete.
We made the beast right on the green of the second hole.
Which is all very ironic,
considering where she now lies once again, rest in peace.
Okay, your story hardly accounts for the risks I face
as delightful as it is to hear you are groin cousins
- with the former Miss-- - The point is, sonny,
you gotta make the leap.
Because the rewards are inestimable.
Sacker.
Kate. It's time to go see Rhoades.
Try and prompt a reaction. Get him following the scent.
- Should I bring the whole team? - Sure. Good idea.
Bring whomever you think will help get the job done.
You got it.
No need to hurry. No need to sparkle.
No need to be anybody but oneself.
It's good to see you, Dr. Rhoades.
Make it Wendy.
Shall we do it here, or do you have A Room of One's Own?
I've been expecting you.
I'm sure you have.
You rustle someone's cattle, they're gonna come looking.
Was it the welcoming literary patter
that helped you snare my patients?
I didn't see your brand on them. At first.
After talking to them, the burns became more visible.
Uh-huh. You know...
I didn't... come here to do this.
You've helped my people quite a lot.
I wanted to thank you,
and to see if we could find...
a way to work in concert. A harmony between our styles.
Surely you don't think we do the same thing, Wendy.
We take different approaches, but we're both psychiatrists.
Humor me, please.
How do you know you're good at what you do?
I could say close to 25 billion earned
and managed by my clients,
but I won't step into that trap.
My goals are aligned with those of my patients.
They want-- they need-- to earn,
need to fight, need to win.
The money's just a symbol of what we're working towards.
All of our shared patients,
they're all addicts.
What they need...
it's wrapped up in a very complicated bundle
of compulsive behavior and purpose.
Your talent and insight,
you use it to disguise it all as purpose,
to keep them on a hamster wheel.
Well, certainly, the wheel may get bigger,
but it's still...
essentially a prison.
So I'm their jailer?
I don't think any of them would agree with that.
Fair. But I can't help but think...
What if you used all your ability
to free them instead?
It is no secret that you are extraordinary, Wendy.
But I think you could be even better.
I would like to help you with that.
Thank you. But I'm not in the market
for a performance coach.
I was suggesting therapy.
Isn't that why you're here, really?
- Miss me already, huh? - Not quite.
Please, take off your shoes. Or stay on the marble.
Jesus, these carpets are harder to clean
than a frat basement couch.
Bill us. We know about WDE Risk Management.
People are already talking about it, huh?
- It's gonna be huge. - Not only did you
create the software while at MPC,
meaning you're hawking property stolen from Mike Prince,
but you trained it on data from our traders.
You don't want this to get messy with a lawsuit.
Surrender the code, we can work out
a suitable position for you at MPC.
Head of Risk Management, maybe?
I'm done working for other people, thanks.
And I coded WDE after I left.
In the eight hours before you started trying to sell it?
Kids work quick these days, you know that.
That isn't going to hold up in court.
Please. I used an air-gapped computer,
so the code trail supports my timeline.
I mean, I would've, if I'd done it
while I was still at MPC.
But look, I'm a generous dude, and we're friends.
So I'll license it to you for only, like, $500,000 per month.
Plus two percent of profits.
Oh, come on, shoes! Who's been putting out
their Kools on my floor?!
I told you we've got this, Wags.
I'm not asking permission. Taylor, Philip,
back away from the defendant.
Prince is moving forward with the lawsuit.
This negotiation is as useless as
a 20-year-old lambskin rubber.
Like from a real lamb?
Get off me--
Do you think anyone on the Street is gonna license software
under the absolute mountain of legal caca
we're throwing your way?
Your product, along with your bank accounts,
are gonna be frozen like Ted Williams's fuckin' head!
I can't believe Prince called you in.
- He promised us some time. - He didn't call me in.
The lawsuit hasn't been filed yet.
A bluff. What's the play?
You can't eradicate cockroaches
without scaring them out of hiding.
Yeah, hi. I need to talk to your COO.
I met with him yesterday. We need to fast track
the software licensing agreements,
or the offer's going away.
Do you think anyone on the Street
is gonna license software
under the absolute mountain of legal caca
we're throwing your way?
Your product, along with your bank accounts,
are gonna be frozen like Ted Williams's fuckin' head!
They had us wait in here instead of in Chuck's office
so that they could end the conversation
by walking out whenever they want,
treating us like targets.
It's amazing the lessons you choose to remember.
Oh, I remember all of them. Deploy the most effective
and let the rest dangle.
Which are you deploying today?
We're here because we have the same goal:
for my candidate to be operating squeaky clean,
behind glass so clear, it kills birds.
The PAC is just that transparent.
We assume you've already reviewed our FEC disclosure.
We're here to answer any questions.
I guess it's the "show up voluntarily
to appear innocent" lesson, but our policy
is to ask questions on our schedule, not yours.
Eh, no, I do have one, actually. For all of them.
One I've asked Scooter before:
What's the going price for one's soul these days? Hmm?
Well, a lesson from my side of the street
is never answer a hypothetical.
So, since I'm the guy with no history here,
might I suggest we turn this slightly professional.
Mr. Rhoades, we sent over the documents
so you'd have an opportunity to vet them.
That seemed the best way for all parties to ensure
that an often dirty process is as pure as Crater Lake.
Yes, well, the lake is pure because it isn't
fed by any rivers and streams,
so there's no opportunity for pollution--
the opposite of a fucking Super PAC,
which tries to onboard as many
dirty streams of cash as possible.
But...
I won't know the specifics until I take a look.
And the fact is, I haven't even had a chance yet.
- Really. - Really.
It's what the man said. It's what the man meant.
And when I do, if I have questions,
you will be hearing from me.
That was an opportunity.
This is.
You know what Amanda found in that filing.
- Let's hit 'em. - This is not our shot at Prince.
What are you doing?
I'm being smart. Restrained. Tactical.
Bullshit, buddy. This is fear.
Oh, come on. You saw them, baiting me.
They want me to find something,
for some reason not yet obvious.
But what is clear is that all this would end, at minimum,
with egg on my face.
My dignity-- that, I will not lose.
Your dignity? Chuck, this isn't just about you.
I'm sorry I pulled you away
from the high-dollar chase.
You already miss it that much
you're ready to go back?
No. And it's not just about me.
There's an office full of people out there
putting forth their best efforts.
So that's on the line. And their careers, too.
When they woke up to the news that you were going to return,
they all told themselves
they were finally gonna be able to do something.
They'd finally live up to the essays
they wrote to get into law school
because they'd finally be working for a great man.
And I know this to be true.
Okay, so the only one who needs to remember is you.
Hey.
If someone lusts after you every day,
they probably also make moves.
Maybe moves they shouldn't,
to impress, ingratiate, seduce?
Hopefully... illegal ones.
So, what were they?
I don't want Winston's
metaphorical death on my conscience.
He was like my annoying little brother.
I'm not gonna be a part of this.
Do you understand that getting that software back
is the single most important thing to MPC right now?
It's either him or us.
Okay.
He bragged about some hacktivist stuff,
but I honestly didn't listen when he talked most of the time.
He was probably just making shit up to impress me.
Hm.
- But... - But what?
Okay, I didn't ask him to do it.
But last May, Winston hacked the DMV
to remove points from my license when I was about to lose it.
How many points did you have?
I like to go fast.
That's my girl.
I gonna need the date and time of that hack for my guy.
I sent some of our gang in to talk to Chuck.
The theory being?
That he's coming for me. I want to know from where.
- And now you do? - I do not.
They said he seemed different, muted.
Disinterested even.
Their instinct is he's not coming.
Was that just a posture? I'm not sure.
Could be he has other things to focus on in his new job.
He wouldn't be alone in that.
You'd rather talk about why I have a need to know,
why I'm engaged in that
instead of keeping my eyes forward on my own business.
I don't want to get into anything you don't want to.
And if I asked you to go in?
To talk to Chuck,
have a look for yourself,
see what's going on and give me some guidance?
I'd say no way, bad idea.
Any more contact, and he's going to start
believing there's something there.
You don't want to convert your search for intel
into motivation for him, do you?
I do not.
Good call.
Hm.
Here.
I figured the one you had was old.
You should have a current one.
Yeah, well, the one I have,
they're much younger. You're in it.
Thank you.
I heard some people from the firm paid a visit today.
And yet, I didn't like what I learned.
Anytime I hear Chuck Rhoades is muted instead of pugnacious,
it's cause for worry.
You don't worry, you dig.
Wh-what are you digging for now?
Nothing.
I just don't like the cooled-off version of you.
Pot, kettle, Wend. You've been frozen so long,
the very temperature of the room drops when you walk in.
Did Prince send you?
He's not sweating his disclosure.
Besides, if he had, would I have come?
Am I some errand girl?
No, I suppose not.
Though I don't know what you are.
I just hope whatever you're doing here
works out okay for them this time.
You got to the kid.
He called them all, so we've got the list.
Two firms that he approached yesterday, three today.
Deals are being drawn up.
He set a follow-up presentation at his co-working space
with all five CEOs tomorrow.
Plan is to ink the contracts there
before any lawsuits land on him.
Bravissimo, Hall. And the coding signature?
Hell of a laundry list, you were right.
That's the one.
You want to bury him like that?
Damn right.
This is the fucking shovel.
Now let's put on a show.
I don't regret keeping them on the hamster wheel.
That's my job,
to keep personnel in place, happy enough to deliver.
But I didn't choose that wheel for myself.
And yet...
you want to know...
why you can't leave.
I want to know why I sometimes feel like an errand girl.
I know I'm not, but...
Also, I kind of am.
I keep doing other people's bidding.
You know, I can leave.
- It's just that I don't. - Mm-hmm.
There's nothing stopping me, contractual or financial.
I tell myself it's the fate of those very people
that I'm keeping on the wheel,
and the fate of a great many people beyond,
as well, that won't let me go.
So...
you're either an errand girl
or Christ-like in your desire to serve the wastrels.
Feeling their pain. Making it your own.
You salve them.
And ready them, again,
to put their souls in peril.
I... I don't know.
I just know you were right.
I can be more than this.
I have to be.
And I want to start that work.
That's wonderful.
I'll get you some referrals.
No, no. You break it, you buy it, Eleanor.
That's what you think? That I broke you?
No. I'm not gonna give you that much credit. Yet.
But you did show me that whatever it was I'm clinging to
to stay above water is drowning me instead.
That's why it has to be you.
Having started at odds like this,
it isn't ideal.
Neither is the human condition, yet we continue to lump it.
I've already had a night, Karl.
What's so important I had to haul it
all the way up to 122nd?
Ah!
So this is an intervention, then.
That's why you brought me to the final resting place
of Ulysses S. Grant.
To remind me that the venerated Union general
stood tall after the loss at Shiloh.
Right?
And what did Lincoln say to those
calling for his removal?
"I can't spare this man; he fights."
Yeah, where would we be if Grant hadn't gone on
to fight at Chattanooga and Vicksburg?
You hoped this would awaken my fight.
But fighting is not my problem.
I am ready to fight. I am not ready to lose.
Not again.
You're a great man.
But that isn't why we've asked you to meet.
The reason's inside.
Well, that's one hell of a twist.
Hey there, Chuck.
Well...
It's nice to meet you, sir.
Uh...
I've long held you in admiration.
I hear you've got a case of the yips, my man.
The yips.
Yeah, I wish it was the yips.
It's elemental. My next move needs to be perfect.
I need a win.
I'm familiar with that pressure.
Well, you mastered it.
You learned to use the pressure to serve you.
Your record's beyond compare.
Well, you know, Coach Wooden said that
as long as you do your personal best,
- you've won. - And that worked for you?
For a while.
And then we made a trip down to Houston
- to visit Mr. Hayes. - That's understood.
And it destroyed your perfect season.
- Must've been devastating. - Yeah, I was rocked.
Yeah.
But that loss made me.
- Mm-hmm. - It helped...
make me into the player that I wanted to be.
- Yeah. - And of course,
when the tournament came around,
it really made it sweet to kick their asses.
Yeah, but...
the fear getting there.
I mean, how do you keep that at bay?
I grew up in 1960s America looking like this.
People wanted to kill me.
I've battled leukemia, open heart surgery,
cancer, fire, and racism.
You think I'd ever be afraid of missing a damn skyhook
after all of that?
I do not imagine you would. No.
Yeah. Right.
Chuck...
people like us keep after it
because we know
it's a crime to waste what we have.
If we don't take the shot...
who the hell else will?
This is why you need...
WDE.
Wait. What are you doing here?
We heard there was gonna be a show.
Winston, This is Your Life.
The fuck? You hijacked my presentation--
You were born in 1989
in Ardsley, New York, to parents Freddie and Carlene.
Excelled in school. Then to MIT,
where you had your first and only girlfriend.
But she dumped you. I wonder why that was.
- I... - Perhaps
your internet search history has the answers.
Also while in Beantown,
you hacked the College Board to change the SAT scores
of Boston Latin students.
You're so good, Winston. Do you know that?
So singular in your talent
that your coding signature is unique.
Immediately identifiable.
- Oh, fuck! - That's right!
And we found that it's been used to hack
several government agencies.
This includes a NATO breach
in which a gigabyte of classified information
was stolen and posted online to prove NATO's vulnerabilities.
Heroic in some lights,
but fucking illegal in all others.
That attack was attributed to the group which you, Winston,
have been part of for at least a decade.
I-- Where did you get this?
Rian rolled on your ass.
Kid...
I know how it feels to have your purpose
sucked out from beneath you.
But let us point to the road back.
You will surrender the software immediately,
as it is the property of Michael Prince Capital,
or all this goes very, very public. Like, FBI public.
But cooperate, and MPC will license
a lesser version to the rest of the Street.
Keeping the best for us, of course.
And you can run it.
I think that's the better choice.
That isn't a real choice.
Isn't pretending beneath you, Taylor?
You're right. There is no choice.
You have five minutes before your customers
start arriving for the pitch.
So... pull yourself together, DocuSign,
and pitch the shit out of them, or we have calls to make.
Oh, and we've renamed it. Trojan Defense.
Winston Dick Energy is a name only a man
with a very, very, small energy source would choose.
It's... around the national average.
Utterly brutal, Wags. I mean that as a compliment.
Wouldn't take it any other way.
And please, spread this tale far and wide.
To anyone who will listen.
Time to send a message.
The PAC is, as we said, likely a misdirect.
All signs point to him self-funding.
Mm. But let's open an investigation on Michael Prince
for conspiring to violate the ban on foreign donations
and contributions in connection
with federal and state elections.
Use it as cover to find another way in.
He needs to think he's got me running in the wrong direction.
It will be done.
- Our boy is back. - Beautiful thing.
When last we spoke,
I said I didn't want to get into anything that you didn't.
But if you don't want to get into something,
that's exactly where I need to take you.
Otherwise, I'm failing you.
And I'm sorry I did that before.
Understood. Thank you.
Chuck Rhoades is charging us for violations on the Super PAC.
Good. Good.
Do we have the CEO's citizenship paperwork in hand?
We do. Granted the same day as the donation,
so it's not even in the system yet.
Game on, then.
Nothing for him at the end of that road.
What are all these?
Cases that are winners but don't matter.
A once-vaunted lawman called prosecutors
that only go after these, quote,
"members of the chickenshit club."
Not a club I want to join.
Not one you'll have to
because we are going after the ones that do matter,
starting with your pump-and-dump case.
- You ready? - More than.
You know, there's something you'll have to learn
going after the important ones:
really fucking hurts to lose.
Chips away pieces of you each time.
Pieces you don't get back.
And it leaves you with no choice but to...
go forward incomplete.
But, what, you're all the better for it?
Stronger and whatnot?
No.
You just go forward like that, missing pieces.
Because that's the way you are now
and there's no other choice.
- Fuck. - Mm-hmm.
But that's not something to worry about today.
Because before all that stuff-of-life happens,
we are gonna win cases aplenty.
I goddamn guarantee you that.
A world without heroes
Is like a world without sun
You can't look up to anyone
Without heroes
A world without heroes
Is like a never-ending race
Is like a time Without a place
A pointless thing, Devoid of grace
Where you don't know What you're after
Or if something's after you
And you don't know Why you don't know
In a world without heroes
In a world Without dreams...