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The police are still investigating.
Paulie and his partner were on duty and...
... They were killed in broad daylight.
This whole city has gone insane, Big Bud.
I'm so sorry, Katie.
What the hell is going on?
First, Richie and now Paulie and...
... Donny is not taking this well at all.
Here.
- What is it? - It's a wedding gift.
I can't take this, Big Bud.
I'm sorry.
I... I may not be around when you and Donny reschedule.
When we reschedule. Try if.
Take it.
And don't tell your mother.
I... I don't suppose she has any plans to
- come and see me. - God, Mom? No.
Oh.
I'm a silly sentimental old fool to think that she would.
Maybe if I told her about your cancer.
No, no, no, no. I don't want anyone's pity, Katie.
She's your daughter.
You two should make peace.
I would love to see her.
Do you think you could talk to her, dear?
Yeah, Big Bud.
- Thank you, dear. Thank you. - Yeah.
Thank you, dear.
The timing of this really sucks.
Life is an improv, Kenny.
You don't believe that.
We've worked together a long time.
Have you ever known me to say things just for the hell of it?
- Well, maybe this was random. - No.
Whoever sent this message made themselves
- loud and clear. - How do you know it's a message?
Paul Parerra and Phil Davis
each had first-degree burns on their neck
consistent with direct contact
with Chicago-Police-Department- issued tasers.
Oh, you can get tasers on the Internet.
They knew their killers, Kenny.
I know. I know.
But the... the timing, Vera.
Just as I get the operation going. Doesn't that
- concern you? - No, what concerns me
is your stubborn inability and/or unwillingness
to see this as little more than an inconvenience to your sting.
You've done these large-scale operations before.
You've had success with them. Why shouldn't I be upset?
The first one I get to plan myself,
the first one I get the reins on,
and it blows up in my face this quickly?
It's uncanny. You know, it's like...
You have a mole in Operation Badfellows.
It's like someone's out to get me.
Or that you have a mole in your operation.
Or like... like bad luck. You know. Like a ... like a curse.
Kenny, listen to me.
You have a mole in your operation. It happens.
For this to go down the very weekend, Vera,
the very weekend that Bud O'Rourke is released?
Bud O'Rourke had nothing to do with this.
Well, sometimes something looks like something,
but it can actually be something else.
Why would Bud O'Rourke have his own grandson killed?
I don't... I'm just trying to get a sense of the larger picture.
- Maybe a drink will help with that. - Okay, wait.
I happen to know for a fact
that the last field agent you took for early drinks
on a Monday got fired.
Wind down and have a fucking drink, Kenny.
- You're not gonna fire me? - No, I'm not gonna fire you. I promise.
I will have a very dirty, very dry gin Martini
with four olives. You?
Yeah, okay.
Two.
Come in.
- Ellen. - Hello, Big Bud.
- Oh, my god. I haven't see you in... - 18 years.
Holding court like the old days?
I'm a popular guy.
What is this place?
They call it a transitional facility, but it's really
a place where sick bedbugs, old winos, and
washed-up Chicago big shots come to die.
Smells like shit.
Generic disinfectant.
Is that for me?
Oh.
Yeah.
Yeah, I know better than to come see you empty-handed.
Well, it's not ticking.
It's heavy.
Cannoli?
I hate this shit.
This is a welcome-home gift for an irishman?
Before you toss it, you might want to lift that little tray.
Hm.
Holy shit.
Very clever.
They don't allow us to have money on the premises.
They watch us like hawks. Sit down, sit down.
And what, pray tell, am I expected to do
in exchange for this tasty gift?
You go away.
- What about unfinished business? - Consider it finished.
You don't seize back power. You disappear.
Or what?
Your dad makes me disappear.
Well, I can neither confirm nor deny that,
but if your gut makes that assumption, I'd say trust it.
Actually, the decision has already been made
to make you disappear.
Why the change of heart?
Because he found out that you were deathly ill.
So Buddy figured, "why rush the inevitable?"
- Hm. - Something like that.
Why Paulie?
You know why.
With my old crew gone the way of all flesh,
- this should be a no-brainer. - Should be, yeah.
You and Buddy did everything you possibly could
to make it easy for me to bow out gracefully.
Well, that's because you're family.
I chose Jimmy to take over for your dad
because Jimmy is 10 times the man that Buddy ever was.
- You still pleased with that choice? - Of course not.
Either way, my dad and his crew are calling the shots now.
I don't suppose he's gonna come and visit me.
Oh, no. I think you've been dead to him
for a long time, Big Bud.
Which is why he sent you.
I volunteered.
Ellen.
- Ellen. - Hmm?
I'm so sorry the way things played out.
- And Buddy knows that, doesn't he? - Oh, he knows.
I had no idea that his mother
would react so hysterically to my indictment.
- He knows. - And I had absolutely no idea
that Jimmy Pariah would rat me out the way he did.
He knows.
No one can accurately predict
the consequences of their actions.
Then why is he so fucking unforgiving?
Because he's your fucking son.
And he's just like you.
Since Paul Parerra and Phil Davis
- were essentially under your wing... - Not technically.
Mm.
I've informed the Chicago Police Department
the FBI is available to assist in their investigation
- in any way possible. - They loved that, I bet.
When the officer in charge takes my business card
and tells me he'll be sure to call me when they need anything,
in Chicago-ese that essentially means "Fuck off."
Sometimes "Go fuck yourself."
Sometimes "Go fuck a family member."
So they... they know that Operation Badfellows
is targeting police corruption,
as well as city hall and the courts.
- You think? - Ah.
Ahh. Good, huh?
It's really dirty, Vera.
And really dry.
Well, I'll take your olives if you're just gonna let them marinate.
You don't find the murder of these two decent cops
and the release of Bud O'Rourke even remotely coincidental?
Sure.
I find it coincidental,
but then I find a lot of things coincidental.
The sky is blue.
So is your shirt.
Elephants are gray. So are most moral conundrums.
- Fiction or conspiracy? - Well, I'm going to investigate.
- No, you're not, Kenny. - What if there's a connection?
If there isn't, I'm sure you'll find one.
- What does that mean? - It means you're ambitious.
- The FBI loves ambition. - Some.
- It encourages and rewards it. - Sometimes.
You can't prevent me from investigating.
Mm.
You're free to do, Ken, whatever you want to do in your free time.
Unit boss sets his unit's agenda.
Well, it's just gonna be very challenging
for you to investigate anything in Chicago from so far away.
You could commute, I guess, but no way the department
will eat the cost of the back-and-forth plane fare.
Well, driving isn't out of the question.
But it's quite a schlep.
A seven-hour slog across Iowa each way.
Mm.
Commute like that could take a toll...
Unless you're really into audiobooks.
I'm not firing you.
I'm transferring you.
- Where? - Omaha.
- Nebraska? - Last time I looked.
Why?
The question you should really be asking yourself
is "why is she not firing me?"
If you're not gonna drink that, I'll take it.
Order yourself something less sophisticated, Kenny.
Order yourself a beer.
Ooh. There's my table.
Uh, just not...
A scotch, please.
Neat.
Thanks.
The timing of this is really bad for me.
Bad timing is the theme of the day, is it?
A transfer? Now? To Omaha?
My god, Vera. Professionally and personally it's suicide.
Suicide is a suicide. A transfer is a transfer.
- This feels punitive. - It is what it is.
You're not gonna warm up to me at all on this.
Right now I'm about as warm as I get.
There was no mole in my unit.
- Somebody talked. - I vetted every one of my guys personally.
They're rock-solid.
As you pointed out a few minutes ago
when you thought I wasn't listening,
sometimes something looks like something
- when it can actually be something else. - No, no.
No one in my unit spoke to anyone on the outside
- about bringing Parerra and Davis in. - Not even you.
I'm unit boss. That's insane.
Do you know what a shitstorm is, Kenny?
You're in one.
You should be fired for this.
This is a major, major fuck up,
the protocol for which is immediate discharge.
If a transfer to Omaha at the same pay grade
is so abhorrent to you personally and professionally,
you do have another option.
Quitting is not an option. Not for me.
- Why not? - Because Duke men don't quit.
They don't fail either.
- Everybody fails, Kenny. - I don't.
I went to the mat for you on this.
You should have been immediately discharged,
but I fought for a transfer because I like you.
Don't ask me why.
But I like you.
You have a lovely wife, beautiful kids.
Why should they suffer for your screw-up?
How is this all on my shoulders?
Do I really need to lecture you
about professional and personal responsibility on this?
- You're a unit boss. - Yeah, I know, but...
No, this is not an "I know, but" situation, Kenny.
You brought in two policemen as C.I.s,
and they were murdered in broad daylight.
The confidentiality of these informants was offered...
no, promised... and it was breached, and they are dead.
Omaha is a gift.
Take it or quit.
Vera, listen, uh...
... I think my marriage is on the rocks.
Please don't tell me about your personal problems.
I was having an affair, and...
Take the transfer. Move to Omaha. It's a fresh start.
You know how my wife found out?
What the hell?
The blade is straight protrusion.
It's on safety, but be careful... it's got a kick.
Where did you get this?
The woman I was involved with
was parked outside my house last night.
Right before sunup, wham!
There's this... there's this...
deafening bang on the front door.
I open it up, and there's this
stuck half an inch deep into the wood.
Really nice door, too. African mahogany. Completely ruined.
The "Fatal Attraction" woman is still out there.
She saw me. She took off. My wife
comes down the stairs.
She sees the damage to the door, the knife.
She hears the tires squealing.
She asks me what's going on, so...
I told her.
Told her everything, Vera. I said...
I said that this thing
on the side was completely over.
I said I was sorry. I begged for her forgiveness.
She still wants to divorce me. So...
I go to her now with this transfer,
she'll pack my bags for me, load them in the car,
and point the way. I just... I can't...
I can't handle that much upheaval all at once, you know?
You're wondering why I told her.
I'm wondering something, but it's not that.
I did it because I just needed to alleviate the burden.
You know... get it off my shoulders. I... did it
because I know that deep down, fundamentally,
despite my misgivings and my mistakes, my flaws, I know,
despite all of that, that I
am a good man.
I know you do, Kenny.
But you're not.
What?
You're not a good man.
You're not a good husband. You're not a good father.
You're not even a good unit boss.
Hell, why beat around the bush?
You're not a good person.
- Why are you saying this to me? - Because it's true.
I'm sorry if this wounds your fragile self-image.
It probably tarnishes your shiny Duke elitism, too.
Sorry about that.
I have risen through the ranks of the Bureau
because I'm a straight shooter.
I calls them like I sees them,
and you, Ken, are not a good man.
I've met your wife.
She's lovely. Far better than you deserve.
Your kids... they deserve better.
Like a father who spends his free time with them
and not fucking around behind their mother's back.
I appear to have struck a nerve.
- I'm so sorry, Vera. - I'll live.
I don't know why I did that.
Pride, Kenny.
- It was pride. - I should never have done that.
- Oh, and yet you did. - I'll get... I'll get you a bar towel.
- I don't need one. - I'll get you another drink.
How long did the prison doctors give you?
All they said was "inoperable."
I'm scheduled for a second opinion later this week.
I'm so sorry, Dad.
I know.
How you holding up?
It's hard.
I still have to discuss Paulie's funeral arrangements with Jimmy.
Listen, Shelly.
Richie's death...
This thing with Paulie...
Me knocking at death's door...
it's all got me looking differently
at life and other sundry matters.
Before I go,
I want to bury the hatchet with Jimmy.
It's the decent thing to do, don't you think?
You know where he is, right?
Talk to him for me, will you, dear?
A public place ... McAuley's.
Tomorrow night, say.
Hey, hey. Are you dry?
Or drying at least?
This is not the first time
that I'll stumble home from work reeking of booze.
I'm really embarrassed.
- You should be. - I mean it.
You're still not fired, Kenny.
I'm not?
Nope. The transfer is still on the table.
Take it.
What are you gonna do with this?
I don't know.
- Fling it in a nearby dumpster. - Hm.
Can I have it?
- Why? - I like it.
If you want it, take it.
You're sure?
It's yours.
If it has any sentimental value for you...
No. Take it.
So, you'll take the transfer?
I know you've passed judgment on me, Vera.
- I haven't. - But I'm not 100% convinced
that I'm to blame for this.
I'm not blaming you either.
The Bureau is.
The Bureau is offering you a graceful way out.
Still, you know...
What?
- I know what? - It's just...
Spit it out.
With you handling Bud O'Rourke's release personally...
It was my operation that put him away.
But to personally be there for his release
and accompany him to a transitional facility...
I arrested him. I indicted him. This is protocol.
Is it?
On an early release for extenuating circumstances?
I had to advise him of the terms.
This is not basic probation.
I know, I know. But the coincidence of it.
- The coincidence of what? - The very day
that you escort Bud O'Rourke from prison
- to a halfway house... - He is still technically incarcerated
until the completion of his transition term.
I know, but you were with him on the very day
that Parerra and Davis were killed in broad daylight.
Have you lost your mind, Kenny?
You knew they both turned.
You personally filed the protection expense requisitions.
Are you trying to force me to fire you?
Is that what you're doing?
Well, now I seem to have struck a nerve.
No, because if you want me to fire you, I'll fire you.
Yeah, Vera, that's what I want. Why would I want that?
- Because that's what narcissists do. - I'm a narcissist?
Have you not looked in the mirror lately?
So now we're resorting to name-calling?
When narcissists won't accept responsibility
for their own fuck ups,
they desperately need to blame others.
When that fails, they need to be victims.
Yeah, but if you're the mole, then I actually
would be the victim here, wouldn't I?
You are a real piece of work.
I would, wouldn't I?
My unit knew,
I knew, and you knew.
To think there might actually be a god
who made you in his image scares the shit out of me.
You were the only other person who knew.
Kenny, I am your friend.
Yeah, well, in Chicago-ese,
I find "friend" to be something of a pejorative term.
I nurtured your career.
I mentored you.
I promoted you several times!
Why would I want to sabotage you?
I don't know, Vera. Why would you?
There's more?
The gloves are off, Kenny.
Just say it.
I, uh, heard a few rumors, so I decided to investigate.
And?
Nothing concrete, but
there is some compelling evidence
that you and Bud O'Rourke
may have been romantically linked at one time...
'round about the time that Jimmy Parerra
wired up to put Bud away.
That was a long time ago.
Still, to be romantically involved
with one of the targets of your own sting?
He was chief of detectives when we met.
I was a field agent, like you.
We worked together on a lot of high-profile cases.
Nonetheless, I'd call it a conflict of interest.
But even that term seems a little mild
for describing a fuck up of this magnitude,
wouldn't you say?
What's your point, Ken?
Question, really.
- What? - Who's not a good person now?
Ha! I never said I was a good person.
You said I wasn't.
You're not.
- Live with it. - But you are?
I never said that.
Listen, Ken.
Back then,
back when Bud O'Rourke was indicted,
yes, we were involved. Yes, I fucked up.
Yes, I failed to see through Bud's bullshit veneer.
Yes, I got busted.
I was severely reprimanded.
I was a unit boss like you,
and I was transferred to fucking Albuquerque.
I took my punishment, and I clawed my way back.
By whatever means necessary, I'm sure.
You're fired.
- What? - You heard me.
Well, you can't... you can't do that.
Clear out your office.
I'll notify security. I'll have them escort you out of the building.
They'll even help you carry your belongings
- if you promise to tip them. - Wait, wait, wait.
- What... what about the transfer? - What about it?
- Can I still take it? - Do you think you deserve it?
I've put in a lot of years at the Bureau, Vera.
- Do you think you deserve it? - I don't want it, but I deserve it.
You are a child.
Oh, if I'm a child, what does that make you?
- Oh, listen, Ken. - No. Why... why should I? Why should I?
Just listen.
I did not tell Bud O'Rourke
that you had recruited Paul Parerra and Phil Davis
to cooperate with your sting.
Bud O'Rourke had nothing to do with their deaths.
You sound pretty sure about that.
- I am. - Why?
Because I was with Bud all day.
I got him settled in at Harbor Light,
and we were together all day.
- Does that mean what I think it means? - Yes.
Old people have sex, you dumb shit.
There's nothing nefarious about it.
The man is dying of cancer, for Christ's sake.
He just got out of prison after 18 years.
What would you do?
Don't answer that.
When you fuck up
the way I did then,
- the way you did now... - I...
Shut up!
... you suck it up.
You accept responsibility for your mistakes,
and you live with it.
I don't know what the fuck they teach you up at Duke,
but that's what grown-ups do.
In the end, I have a career and little else.
Don't make the same mistake, huh?
You never had kids?
What about me strikes you as motherly?
All these years, I thought you were a lesbian.
Isn't that funny?
I'm sure it is to somebody.
You never got married?
Do you see a ring on this finger?
Never?
When you're young, you're told "never say never"
so you don't lose hope, so you keep trying.
When you're old,
you keep saying the same thing
because what's the alternative?
If you choose not to swing by to clean up your office,
I'll understand.
Security will do it for you
and send your belongings to your home address.
I'm still fired?
Yes, you're still fired.
And, yes,
you're still a dumb shit.
I'm worried you always will be.
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