Excuse me, do you have a phone?
Do you have a... do you have a cell phone?
Hey, hey.
Come on, do you have a cell...
does anybody have a phone?
Do you have a phone? You have a phone?
- No. - I need a phone!
Does anybody have a phone?
911. What's your emergency?
There's a pipe bomb in Westlake Plaza.
I saw the two guys that put it there.
- Your name, sir. - My name?
I once dated a guy who loved the independence of living on his own...
chugging from the carton in the middle of the night.
He said the isolation was a trade-off he could live with.
I thought I had hit the mother lode.
Then he started talking about going to clown camp.
Disaster was averted by the heroism
of a homeless man who remains unidentified.
As a result, two members of the most notorious
domestic terrorist group on American soil
have been charged with multiple counts
of attempted murder and conspiracy.
You saved hundreds of lives, Walter.
Yeah, well, uh, don't waste your ticker tape on me, huh?
You also put millions of minds at ease.
Okay. So we'll hold the ticker tape.
You'll still be given a place to live and monthly check...
enough to cover necessities, pay for a car.
I don't drive.
And, actually,
I can save you a few bucks on the utilities.
I can get those for free.
Of course, why would anybody in government
ever want to save a couple of bucks.
ATF said you set up a wireless router
down there in the basement of the library.
I did, uh...
they kept encrypting the signal. It was very frustrating.
Out of curiosity, why the library?
Well, I'm always looking to better my mind.
Knowledge is power. That kind of thing.
Yeah, the paperwork has your IQ at 142.
That's a notch above that of the average itinerant.
What's your story?
I read a biography of Paul Erdos when I was 10.
Hooked me.
Erdos was a homeless Hungarian mathematician.
Who never settled down.
Just roamed the world.
Terrific. Dueling marshals.
Helping people with their math problems.
Did a lot of work in set theory.
Hey, look. A dime.
A.U.S.A. is here.
She'd like to talk to you privately, Mary.
Where do you see Kurt Godle in the math hierarchy?
Ugh, Kurt Godle.
Hello?
Abbey Montgomery.
I'm handling Walter's case.
Hi. Aren't you early?
We weren't expecting you till the day after tomorrow.
Officially, yes.
But before I meet with my witness,
I wanted to meet with you.
Make sure we're both on the same page
when it comes to hygienics and deportment.
- Deportment? - I think she means behavior.
Walter tested negative on the drug screen.
Passed the psych eval too.
Well, we need more than that to ensure a conviction.
Meaning...
Meaning, if he presents like a crazy on the stand, we're screwed.
Some very bad guys go back on the street,
and the next time they try to blow something up, it works.
As in kaboom.
Is that English enough for you, inspector?
I don't think I like her deportment.
Mary... next time you see Walter,
you won't even recognize him.
Thank you.
Since 1970,
the federal witness protection program
has relocated thousands of witnesses,
some criminal, some not,
to neighborhoods all across the country.
Every one of those individuals shares a unique attribute,
distinguishing them from the rest
of the general population.
And that is, somebody wants them dead.
Sync by n17t01 - corrected by chamallow www.Addic7ed.Com
Yum.
Just try it.
If I'm gonna ace this massage therapy test...
Classic Brandy opening. Go on.
I gotta learn all this nutrition junk,
like, head to toe.
Turns out mom had it all wrong.
Espresso chased with a Virginia slim...
not a balanced breakfast.
Bourbon's not a food group?
I don't think so.
Door was open.
Brought a dozen glazed.
A dozen? Is late '70s Elvis coming?
You are now officially my favorite of Brandy's boyfriends.
Yes, including the abs guy from Memphis.
- Oh, my God. - Thanks for stopping by.
I know you gotta get to work.
Well, it's nice to be the boss.
Although I prefer to be the boyfriend.
You wanted to talk over some financial stuff?
- That'd be great. - Well...
I will leave you two titans of industry
to your scintillating back and forth about financial stuff.
All right, so... what's going on?
Scott asked for the ten grand back.
That's your money, Brandy.
I know, but I think he's in trouble.
When isn't he?
I realize this isn't what you want to hear,
but there are two things I know a lot about:
Money and addiction.
And Scott's got a problem with both,
so even if you're just trying to help...
I'll just be enabling him.
Exactly... so don't.
Good morning, Teresa.
Don't you look... cheerful.
It's early. I haven't had my bagel.
So ignore my tone when I ask
what on God's green earth is that?
It's a requisition to set up an advance of funds
for one Walter Bleymeyer.
And it's signed by Mary, not me.
But she's not here, and you are.
And you've been working this too, so congratulations.
Guess who's guilty by association.
Cut it by half.
Did you see Walter Bleymeyer?
I'm not so sure that figure's entirely out of line.
Marshall.
10:00.
- Oh, jeez. - Marshall.
Marshall.
Gotta work on this...
This thing is so hard...
- Stan the man! - Good luck.
Ohh. Ah, jeez.
- Who buzzed him up? - I did.
Why, should I not have?
He's a witness, right?
Yeah, he's a witness.
What are we doing?
Improvising.
So I see the problem, and it's a big one.
Something I'm gonna handle right away.
My top, top priority, Teresa.
Ah, okay. If you say so.
Yeah. No, I say so.
Stan. Stan. Uh, I was gonna call,
but I thought it best to talk to you in person.
Ah, Tim, how are you?
- Good to see you. - I'm good, I'm good.
Can I have a minute in... in private?
It's time sensitive.
Ah, gosh, I would love to talk to you, Tim,
but I got this huge issue to deal with.
I mean, it's really... it's massive, so I...
Oh, okay. How 'bout Marshall?
Uh, he's swamped, yeah.
Okay, Mary?
She's out with a witness, yeah.
Stan, I... yeah, I would like...
How 'bout Charlie?
Charlie. Yeah, Charlie would be happy to talk to you.
Come on, let me introduce you.
Charlie? Is he new? I don't remember Charlie.
Oh, yeah, he's a hotshot.
Charlie cotter, I'd like you to meet
everyone's favorite witness.
- Tim Bickman. - Pleasure.
- Welcome to WITSEC. - Thank you.
- Whatever he needs. - You got it.
I've had this beard for a long time.
It's gonna be like cutting off an arm.
A long, straggly, good-for-nothing arm.
Let's go.
So yesterday, I went to cottonwood.
Bought these new walking shoes.
So, naturally, I went for a power walk around the mall.
Mm-hmm, and...
This is where it gets interesting.
Okay.
I kept passing this suspicious character,
sitting on a bench, drinking a smoothie.
Every time I walked by, there he was.
Every time.
Now, after what I've been through personally,
I'm hyper-aware of my environment.
So it's someone from... from your past.
At first, I thought so.
There is definitely something familiar about this guy.
So I stop at the electronics outlet.
And I purchased a small digital camera.
You... what? You took his picture.
Many pictures.
So here, take a look.
You'll see what I'm talking about.
- All right. - Mm.
Hmm. This guy here?
Oh, yeah. That's him.
And who is he?
Marty Ray Guzman.
Wanted for armed robbery, three counts of murder,
and arson of an occupied structure.
See?
I don't...
Look, you have to imagine him, you know, bald,
with a goatee, 200 pounds heavier.
Right.
He looks different.
Totally different.
Yeah.
But it's him.
Ahem.
Sweet Jesus.
Grizzly Adams to boy band in 15 minutes.
So you're gonna buy me clothes, next, aren't you?
No, uncle Sam's gonna buy you clothes.
So tell me, does Uncle Sam
buy his clothes from school children in India
who are chained to their sewing machines
for ten hours and two cents a day?
When's the last two cents you made, Walter?
Did you ever have a job?
Ah, when I was 15, I mowed 120 lawns in one summer.
My mother thought I was gonna use the money to buy a car.
I ended up buying a ticket, one way,
on the greyhound to Seattle.
I never really looked back.
Wow. You in some kind of trouble?
No, I just felt like my family didn't get me, you know.
I felt like I was growing up in the wrong place
with the wrong people in the wrong house.
So I just split.
15 years old, though.
Long time ago.
Long time to be alone.
Yeah, whatever.
You're alone. It's not that bad.
You don't know I'm alone.
Could be married with kids.
What gave me away? I'd like to perfect the facade.
Well, you lack trust.
I can tell from your need for large personal space,
your off-putting scowl.
I mean, somebody probably did you wrong in the past,
and, you know.
That's my guess.
I guess.
Good thing I'm not supposed
to discuss my personal life with you then, isn't it?
Well, that's the beauty of being alone, see.
The only person you have to explain yourself to is no one.
- Hi. - Hi, can I help you?
Yeah, um, we're here about the job.
The want ad in the paper.
Oh, sure, uh, do you have any experience working with...
um, it's not for me. It's for my cousin.
He knows everything about books.
Don't you? Walter...
Know everything about books?
- Really? - Uh-huh.
Yes, I, uh, practically lived at the library.
Mm-hmm.
This is Walter.
Trevor Cushing, Book Barn day manager.
Any relation to Frank?
Frank Cushing?
I've never heard of him.
He authored a series of books about the Zuni tribe in the late 1800s.
People often confuse him with Bunzel,
whose volumes came out a bit later,
but Cushing was a better scholar.
Jeez, Walter, you sound more than qualified.
We could definitely use you here.
Unfortunately, it is entry level.
So you'd start at $9.50 an hour.
But it'll go up.
Great.
I don't work for money, Trevor.
I think what he means is he works for passion and for love.
You know, the money is just a bonus.
Right, Walter?
Walter.
Walter, can I talk to you over here for a sec?
Back in a flash...
Trevor.
Okay, look.
I don't want a job. I don't need a job, okay?
That's how it all... starts.
- What starts? - Oh, the conformity.
The dependency on money.
Next thing you know, I'm gonna be filing tax returns
and being counted in the census.
Okay, look, this is a much longer conversation
I'm gonna have you have with Marshall.
Right now, I want you to take the job
because it makes you look like
a contributing member of society.
And judges tend to like that better
than guys living under the library.
After the trial, you can quit.
Okay, what about the... paycheck.
Cash it, give it away.
Use it as toilet paper. I don't care.
Oh, I'm very, very drawn to the toilet paper suggestion.
Walter.
Fine.
I'm not calling him sir.
Who asked you to call him sir?
He's 12. Nobody's ever called him sir.
Come on.
Okay.
All right.
Trevor...
I'm... your employee.
Huh. Psh.
Okay. We'll get you a uniform.
Okay.
Great.
What?
- A uniform? - Yeah.
Great.
And it begins.
Uh... I'm speechless.
- Same here. - My favorite kind of speech.
- Walter... You look like a... - Sellout... to the man.
I was going to say you look like an upstanding citizen.
The perfect witness.
Well done, inspector.
- And, I believe I'm secure enough to say, quite handsome. - All right, all right.
Keep it in your pants.
Is there a trial date set?
Yeah, first Tuesday of next month.
I'll be back between now and then
to prepare Walter for his testimony.
Meantime, is there anything you need, Walter?
We want to make sure our hero is happy.
Yeah, now that you mention it,
uh, there is something that I could use your help with
that I haven't been able to do on my own.
Split the atom?
No, um...
find my birth mother.
I've been looking on and off most of my life.
Closed adoption, I take it.
California.
Look, I know it's not your job or anything,
and I'm not saying I wouldn't testify
if you don't help me do this, but...
but it's a fair request, and not a difficult one.
Sealed records can be opened with a court order.
Yeah, but Walter, you sure you wanna open that sack of cats?
Doesn't always go well.
Maybe not, but I think it sounds cathartic.
Your first relationship in your old life
could wind up being the first relationship in your new life.
Aeneas setting forth and Ulysses coming home.
And Iliad and an Odyssey.
Are these windows bulletproof, or could I throw myself through them?
I went to school with someone who's a circuit court judge in Sacramento.
She owes me.
How much do you know Walter?
I researched what I could at the library.
I got a copy of my original birth certificate.
Uh, name says baby boy Jennings.
That's her last name.
So I'm the only one who thinks this is a terrible idea.
Pretty much.
Yeah.
Thanks, Abbey.
Just got a fax from social services in Sacramento.
So... long lost mom is a Sherry Greer of Modesto, California.
We have her social.
Won't take long to track down where she lives.
Oh, goody.
It's possible that a positive reunion
with Walter's birth mother
could heal his primal wound.
- Don't say primal wound. - That's what it's called.
Seriously, I'll give you $100 if you stop.
That's what they call the pain many adoptees suffer
when taken from their mothers at birth.
So, what, he's homeless because he's adopted?
Maybe... unable to bond properly
with his adoptive family, yes.
No, I'm a firm believer in ignorant bliss.
Especially when it comes to family members taking off.
Ah, a parallel.
How could I have missed it?
Okay, all right, okay.
Just don't be surprised when Walter's mom
turns out to be something less than Carol Brady.
Found her.
Sherry's gone back to good ol' modesto.
Hmm.
Hmm, what?
She's on husband number four.
Hmm. Happy now? Carol Brady's a slut.
Should we call first?
Maybe call first.
Ohh.
Checking up on me, like the obedient...
establishment operatives that you are?
No. No, Walter.
We're here on a more personal matter.
My... biological mother?
Yes, we found out why your own investigations had hit a wall.
Your mother used a false name on the birth certificate.
You were baby boy Greer, not Jennings.
Oh, uh... that was so quick.
There's more, and it's not good.
- She's dying. She has pancreatic cancer. - She's in a hospice,
At home, under her husband's care.
Look, we did get authorization to take you to her,
but... we would have to go now.
There's a transport plane leaving Kirkland Air Force Base in an hour.
It'll take us to Lompoc.
We'll drive from there.
My mother...
did she say she wanted to meet me?
Well, we called.
That's how we found out she was ill.
She wasn't able to speak on the phone.
If you want to do this, we've really got to go.
I want you to know that I feel awful.
It must seem like all I do is ask you for money,
but, you know, it's hard out there for a day trader.
Anyway, this... is all you need to start your business.
Um...
wow.
Small biz loan application.
- Scott... - Licensing info.
Wow, thank you so much for doing all this.
Consider this a promise that you will get your money back.
And you will.
Scott, listen, I can't give you your money.
I really wish I could,
but I already put a down payment
on a storefront rental space in old town.
Oh.
I tried to get the money back, but they said no.
I'm really sorry that I couldn't come through for you on this.
Don't be.
It's totally fine.
Really?
I mean, is it really fine?
Totally.
Okay.
Listen, um... I need to split.
Okay.
We're good?
Yeah.
Thank you.
This is it.
Oh, God, she's got people around.
I... I'm starting to think
that maybe this isn't a good idea.
I... I don't even know what to say when I go in there.
You'll have a few minutes to figure it out.
Marshall will go in first, assess the situation.
When did I draw the short straw?
Fine.
- Before we begin... - Don't do this.
- A question. - God, I hate when you do this.
Which one are you gonna use?
Fine.
Paper.
Okay.
Aah!
God, get out of my head!
Hello.
Hi. Sorry to intrude.
I... I'm here to see Sherry.
Um... She, um...
I'm sorry. Do we know each other?
No. No. I'm Mary.
I'm just... I'm a friend of a friend.
Well, my wife, um...
passed away.
Oh.
Uh, people are here just gathering.
You're more than welcome to join us.
Thank you.
Okay, look.
We can stay for a little while, but remember:
You grew up in Idaho, your names is...
Walter Bleymeyer.
I've been working in book retail for 13 years.
And don't talk about the case.
Atta boy.
We'll be over there.
Eating ham.
Excuse me. You're Sherry's husband.
Yes. Damon.
Walter.
I'm sorry for your loss.
Well, thank you.
It was time.
She had been sick for quite a while.
How did you know her, Walter?
Uh...
I met her once, a long time ago.
She made an impression.
She had that effect upon people.
You know, they were drawn in by her.
Oh, I don't know. She was just a free spirit.
A free spirit?
Yeah, always chasing some wild dream.
I remember when she bought a beat-up old vanagon.
Actually, I think she traded for it.
A cord of wood or something like that.
Had a little kitchenette in it and a pop top.
She could camp in there.
She drove it clear across the country.
Just her and the open road.
Just her.
She...
she got married and moved to the suburbs.
Did she have any kids?
No, no kids.
She gave marriage a shot a few times,
but... nothin' stuck until us.
We had... 12 good years together.
I'm telling you we should have let sleeping dogs lie.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
Did you try the potato salad?
It's the mustard kind.
All right, it's a somber occasion.
Try to quell your enthusiasm.
Oh, my God.
I'm sure people probably want to talk to you.
I, uh, anyway...
I should be getting home.
What did you say your name was?
Walter.
Bleymeyer.
It was nice to meet you, Walter.
You ready?
Is that you?
Yes, that's... me and Sherry, 1977.
I'm sorry. I'm confused.
I thought you and Sherry were only married 12 years.
Well, we were high school sweethearts.
But you know, those relationships never last,
and... we grew up and went our separate ways.
Then, all these years later,
there she was again, back in Modesto.
Lookin' as pretty as she does in that picture.
All right, well, this is just a shot in the dark,
but... did you and Sherry have a baby together...
in '78?
How do you know that?
Nobody knows that.
So that's what broke you up.
We were devastated, Sherry and me,
that we couldn't keep the boy.
But our families wouldn't hear of it.
Listen, there's no easy way to tell you this,
and not a lot of time to find one.
Your son is here.
He's here.
What are you saying?
I'm saying you just met him.
Hey, Stan.
I wanted to talk to you about this fugitive tip
that your witness brought in.
Oh.
I feel so bad about letting this go so far.
You see, Tim...
he's sort of a serial tipster.
I think this is like number 19, by my count.
All bogus.
Wait, you think he's making this up?
Testifying was the most exciting thing that's ever happened to him.
And I think he's obviously just trying to recapture that feeling.
Okay, but, uh, the thing is,
Tim's tip isn't bogus.
Marty Ray Guzman,
number six on the most wanted list,
he lives in Albuquerque.
It turns out Guzman's family
lived here when he was ten.
Then his parents split.
He finds the wrong crowd. Things go downhill.
It makes sense he would come back to the place he was happiest.
Here. Look, look, look.
The FBI's being kind of difficult
about letting us use their facial recognition program.
- Shocking. - But...
I was able to blow up Tim's photos 300%.
What am I looking at?
Tattoo, right forearm.
See, these are surveillance photos of Guzman from the past.
This is now.
Looks like tattoo removal,
but not the new laser kind.
It's more primitive and painful.
Looks like a match.
You got a location on the suspect now?
Yes.
Believe it or not,
he works in the food court.
You gotta be kidding me.
Takes a 20-minute break at 2:00, has a smoothie,
bus home at 6:00.
Charlie, this is really great work.
Thank you. You wanna know the best part...
is I got a copy of his job application from the mall
and compared the writing to a sample I pulled up
- from the DMV. - It's a match?
Looks like it.
Looks like we could have a top ten fugitive on our hands,
that's what it looks like.
We're waiting on official confirmation.
Well, as soon as you find out, Charlie, we're taking him down.
All right?
Wait.
Does this mean we're making the arrest?
'Cause I've never actually done that before.
Your leg work, our collar.
You ready?
You must have a million questions.
I mean, I know I do.
But, for the life of me, I can't...
I know, I know.
I've... I'm just, um...
Happy to be here.
Oh, you look just like her.
In the eyes.
Yeah?
Yeah, there's just a... sparkle.
I can't believe I didn't get to meet her.
She would have loved to have seen your face
just... once.
There wasn't a day, Walter,
not one day,
that you didn't cross her mind.
We... we would have been a family, Walter.
I...
I don't blame you.
I'm not angry...
or anything.
Life...
doesn't always work out like you plan it.
No, it doesn't.
Do you realize the statistical odds
of a birth mother getting married to the birth father
32 years after the fact?
If I lied and said yes, would you stop talking?
Thought you were full.
I got a second wind.
We'll have to go camping when you come back.
There's a place I want to show you.
It's best in the spring,
but I hope I'll see you before then.
You could come back, or I could come to you...
If you leave me your address and number.
Um... actually,
I'm not settled into a place yet.
So, uh...
I'm gonna have to get back to you on that one.
Well, I'll be here Walter.
I'm not going anywhere.
Well, we should get on the road.
I'll start the car.
Walter... you know what I'm gonna say, right?
I can't see him again?
You okay with that?
What choice do I have?
You will be able to write him letters, Walter.
It's not really the same, is it?
No.
But now you know your story.
Where you came from, that you were wanted.
That puts you ahead of a lot of people.
You put your handwriting on one piece of paper...
Your whole life unravels.
Turn left towards Central Avenue,
then follow the highlighted route.
- Charlie. - Yes, sir?
Stop touching my baby.
Yes, sir.
Just follow your protocols. You'll do fine.
It's a big moment for you.
You always remember your first.
Your first car, your first date.
Your first bust.
I will try to enjoy it.
Take 'em down take 'em down, let's go.
Let's do this thing.
Let's make it happen.
Pow.
That's Guzman's stop.
Mm.
It's better?
Yes, but, ahem...
in the way sludge is better than radioactive sludge.
Ohh.
How'd things go with Scott?
I told him I put money down on the storefront
and we couldn't get it back.
Wait... you put a deposit down on a storefront?
No, I just couldn't look him in the eye
and tell him that I didn't trust him.
Wait.
Why would it be so awful if I had rented a space?
You need a viable business plan first,
not to mention a viable business.
Hmm. What's wrong with massage?
Nothing, it's just the economy.
Not a lot of disposable income to blow on hot stone treatments
and deep tissue whatever.
Right.
I'm just sayin' the recession, hon.
It could take years.
- What's this? - Chicken soup.
That's what you do when people are sick.
You bring 'em chicken soup.
I hear you didn't show up for work,
so I gave you the benefit of the doubt.
So... you're sick.
Right, Walter?
Never better.
That's too bad.
Then again, it does buoy my argument
that karma's a bunch of b.s.
You know what?
I'm not going back to work at the store anyway.
So why don't you take the shirt and the name tag.
All right, they're gonna need it for the next sheep anyway.
Walter, don't. Don't do that.
Since I met you, you've been nothing if not interesting.
Colorful, challenging, in a good way.
But a half-assed stereotype of a 1960s hippie?
Say it ain't so.
Do these crafty interventions actually work with your other witnesses?
I mean, seriously, the whole Alpha female routine
I supposed to, what, just jolt me out
of whatever behavior you deem unacceptable?
Okay, look, I get holding yourself
apart from the world... I do.
I once went six whole days
without talking to a single human being.
Wasn't even trying.
Just happened.
Best six days of my life.
But even I can't stay in that place.
Even you can't. No one can.
You'll end up bitter and alone and without a dentist.
Uh, bitter and alone is how I started off.
That's how I'll end up.
There's the target.
You good to go?
Yeah, just try and stop me.
Come on, let's go.
Hey, Hector, right? From the mall?
Smoothie stand?
Oh, I love that strawberry swirl.
Do I know you?
I just have a few questions about a guy you used to know.
Marty Ray Guzman.
Ain't seen that dude in seven or eight years, man.
Sorry.
You guys cops?
U.S. Marshalls.
So, really?
You didn't see him, like, this morning?
In the mirror?
Police! Freeze!
Ahh!
On the hood, asshole!
Come on. On the hood.
On the hood!
Spread 'em.
All right, take him.
Holy smokes.
Huh? It's a rush, huh?
Yeah, I guess. Yeah?
Wait till we call the Bureau.
Tell them they owe Tim Bickman 15 grand.
How 'bout that? That'll be a rush.
Huh? Put it on speaker.
Look, I get it.
Leaving someone, being left, it can be brutal.
In either direction.
I spent my whole life looking for people who left me,
and I finally found them,
and now I'm leaving them?
Right, I know, but it happens.
I mean, maybe not like this, but...
Stop, please. Just... stop talking
about something that you have no idea about.
No idea? Look, Walter, my mother
drank mostly because my father walked out on us when I was seven.
My entire childhood, every second of my 20s,
I let that define me.
You're supposed to.
That's what family does... it defines you.
Look, if you want to win an argument, fine.
But thinking about it that way, that's all you'll win.
It's a waste of time, Walter.
So here's the plan: take your past and box it up.
This closure you just got,
it's a gift.
Embrace it.
Turn it into something that you can be happy about and move on.
You don't care about my happiness.
All you care about is my testimony.
That's what you think?
Right, well...
the A.U.S.A. arrives tomorrow,
going to to prep you for trial.
Pick you up at 11:00.
Sounds like a plan.
Thanks for coming in, Tim.
Sure. Sure, Stan.
So... so do you guys, uh, need something more from me...
Um, on this Guzman character?
'Cause I've done a little more homework and I...
No. No, no, no.
I think we have everything we need.
Okay.
So... what? Are you guys m... mad at me or...
No, Tim, we just wanted to see your face...
When we gave you this.
Oh, my God.
I was right?
That you were.
$15,000 for information leading to the arrest of one of America's most wanted.
Ohh. Gah.
Oh, I don't know what to say.
- Oh. - Then don't.
So you know, guys...
There's this woman who works at the coffee shop I go to.
I don't trust her. Something in the eyes.
I'm thinking we set up some kind of stakeout.
Or surveillance, or, I don't know.
Put a bug in there or...
- Charlie. - Mm-hmm, yeah. - Come on.
Uh, let's go to the coffee shop.
After you. First round's on me.
Great. So we'll set up the stakeout?
Yeah, that's great. Well, we'll talk about it.
Leaving Walter that day,
the last thing I ever thought he'd be
is an ideal witness.
In the end, though, to my eternal surprise, that's what he was.
Clean cut, upstanding, credible.
And those would-be terrorists
wound up getting 20 to 25 in maximum security.
Walter even kept his job at the Book Barn,
working his way from $9.50 an hour to $12.50.
Hi. How can I help you?
All of which would lead you to believe
my little lecture about closure
actually got through to him.
But no.
In this case, I figured out how to protect my witness and make him happy:
By getting him relocated to modesto, California.
He remained in WITSEC under his new name,
and finally got to take that camping trip with his dad.
Who's to say if he'll ever heal
what Marshall called his primal wound?
All I know is he'll get to know his father.
It's better than nothing.
I bet I know what you're thinking.
Want me to tell you?
Do I ever?
Your father's out there somewhere.
You know more than you ever have.
We can at least try.
I don't want to try.
Sorry, those words coming out of your mouth,
they're disorienting.
You don't want answers?
There's no happy ending to that story, John boy.
Not even the one in my head.
Sync by n17t01 - corrected by chamallow www.Addic7ed.Com