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Yo, the shit is late.

 

They're still vialing up.

 

Usually come off the train street-ready,
but this time they gotta vial.

 

Y'all got any testers, man?

 

- Yeah, later.
- Later?

 

Got any testers, man?

 

Nigger, it ain't even 9:00,
and you fiending on it.

 

Get the fuck out of here, man. Damn.

 

Why you act like that?

 

What, for these junkie motherfuckers?

 

So you just gonna take his money all day
and treat him like a dog?

 

- How I'm supposed to treat him?
- I don't know.

 

- But you ain't got to punk him like that.
- He punked himself.

 

He's a goddamn drug addict.
And you a goddamn drug dealer.

 

So? So what?

 

What, the customer's always right?

 

We're in the projects.

 

The customer be fucked up.
You can't give these niggers shit, man.

 

Why not? Why can't you?

 

Shit, everything else in the world get sold
without people taking advantage.

 

Scamming, lying, doing each other dirty.

 

- Why has it got to be that way with this?
- 'Cause they dope fiends.

 

Yeah, but the game
ain't gotta be played like that.

 

You can't tell me this shit can't get done
without people beating on each other...

 

killing each other,
doing each other like dogs.

 

Without all that...

 

you ain't got 5-0 here on our backs
every five minutes...

 

- throwing us around and shit.
- Shit, man.

 

You think 5-0 would care
about niggers getting high?

 

In the projects?

 

Man, 5-0 be down here
about the bodies.

 

That's what they be
down here about, the bodies.

 

- Squires, young squires.
- What you want, nigger?

 

A little bag of styles, man,
a little bag of styles for you.

 

Check it out.

 

Only $5, what's up with that?

 

$5 make you
a gallant motherfucker, right there, boy.

 

Him, we know.

 

What are we facing from the riot?

 

Three witnesses' statements...

 

all of them saying the officer's assault...

 

on the youth was unprovoked.

 

You know how that goes, Commissioner.

 

People's idea of police brutality is
whenever we win a fight.

 

What does the state's attorney say?

 

He says it goes to a grand jury.

 

That's him doing Pontius Pilate.

 

The grand jury doesn't indict,
he looks clean for passing the buck.

 

- And if they do indict?
- They won't.

 

Criminal histories on our three witnesses...

 

one longer than the next.

 

Drugs, weapons, assault...

 

more drugs.

 

Shitbirds throwing dirt at good police.

 

Just the same, Lieutenant...

 

I want you to rethink...

 

whatever tactic led you to send
three plainclothes officers...

 

to do field interviews at the high-rises
at 2:00 in the morning.

 

Yes, sir.

 

I take it your people have union counsel?

 

Yes, sir.

 

Sir, I would request...

 

that pending the grand jury review...

 

Officer Pryzbylewski be placed
on administrative leave.

 

I can use him in-office,
but we shouldn't have him on the street...

 

until the grand jury signs off.

 

That's putting our tail between our legs.
I think our official stance has to be...

 

he did nothing wrong out there.

 

A 14-year-old is half-blind.

 

And two of ours were injured as well.

 

Goddamn right.
They were fucking shooting at us out there.

 

Bobby, what do you think?

 

Keep him off the streets...

 

until it clears the courthouse.

 

Okay, then, we'll wait on the grand jury.

 

Lieutenant. A moment, please.

 

What happened out there?

 

Did you know they were in the high-rises
without backup?

 

If I tell you yes...

 

I screwed up.

 

If I tell you no...

 

I'm putting my men in the jackpot.

 

Do you still want me to answer?

 

I screwed up, sir.

 

Good man,
willing to take one for the company.

 

To hell with the company.

 

I'm defending my own people here,
that's all.

 

What Major Valchek means to say
is that he's grateful that you...

 

extended your support
on behalf of Officer Pryzbylewski.

 

- Fuck-up that he is.
- He should be off the street.

 

What can I say? The kid needs...

 

a little guidance, a little supervision.

 

Stan here thought that if he got
a young officer back on the street...

 

where he might start over--

 

A new unit, a new lieutenant.

 

- You know, that it might bring him around.
- I understand he messed up here.

 

I understand that.

 

Which is why I'm saying to you...

 

I owe you...

 

for walking him
through this grand jury thing.

 

And to compensate,
Southeastern is sending you...

 

two new unmarked units,
and a surveillance van.

 

Plus, you need manpower...

 

while these guys are busy
with this IID thing...

 

all you do is ask.

 

Lieutenant.

 

So I've got suction with you, Valchek?

 

That's what I'm saying.

 

Deputy, always a pleasure.

 

A necessary evil.

 

- What?
- Valchek.

 

Is it insubordinate
if I ask what's so necessary?

 

Thanks for not cutting Pryzbylewski loose.

 

If you had, the department would be caught
between Valchek and city hall.

 

I owe you for that.

 

This Barksdale...

 

he's dug in.

 

It may take more than buy-bust.

 

And since it's been
in the press about the witness--

 

It's not an issue.

 

Keep it a tight little circle.

 

Give me three weeks of good street work
and you'll see this through.

 

A couple of felony warrants,
a little dope on the table.

 

That's all we need here.

 

Under no circumstances
is it accurate to suggest...

 

that this particular homicide
was the result of the victim...

 

having been a witness in an earlier case.

 

Reports to the contrary
are without factual merit.

 

Are you saying that you know definitely
that this man was not killed...

 

because he testified?

 

We think that...

 

I mean, that is...

 

we're looking into the
possibility that Mr. Gant...

 

was involved in a street dispute.

 

Which, of course,
would have nothing to do...

 

with his being a witness...

 

in an unrelated case
that concluded weeks ago.

 

But you haven't developed
a suspect at this time?

 

No, we haven't.

 

Bunk, shame on you, lad.

 

What did you expect him to do?

 

I don't know, grab the mike...

 

shove Rawls to the ground,
declare that all of Baltimore...

 

should rise as one because
they're murdering witnesses in cold blood.

 

That sounds more like one of your moves.

 

Been working on him two weeks,
we don't even have a photo.

 

It's fucking embarrassing.

 

Hey, Pat.

 

We got a job for you guys
to try to run down.

 

What is it?

 

We need a photo of this guy, Barksdale.

 

We need to know what he looks like.

 

- So go down to the B of I.
- You see, that's the problem, guys.

 

Barksdale's never been arrested
as an adult...

 

so we don't really have a B of I photo.

 

He had his juvenile record expunged,
so there's no photo there either.

 

Then you're fucked.

 

Yeah, we are.

 

But seeing as we all came into work today,
I thought, let's try something different.

 

We know from his mother's
social service record...

 

that Barksdale grew up
in Franklin Terrace, right?

 

It occurred to me...

 

being vaguely familiar
with the high-rises of West Baltimore...

 

that the housing project
began to take photos...

 

of every registered resident
as a security measure.

 

- Am I correct, Detective Greggs?
- Yeah.

 

So you want us to go down
to the housing department...

 

- and pull his photo.
- Excellent.

 

You know, you and I, we think as one.
We're like two horses together in a harness.

 

Why don't you fucking do it yourself?

 

Sure, if you don't mind sitting in my desk,
reviewing homicide folders...

 

taking meticulous notes,
trying to run down a few new leads.

 

It's boring, painstaking work,
but if you don't want...

 

to travel to the housing department,
I'll switch with you.

 

Fuck it, Patrick. Let's take a ride.

 

- That was inspiring.
- I'm a leader of men.

 

- What's up with shop?
- No re-up.

 

- Why not?
- 'Cause we out of red caps.

 

Stink say we gonna have
a new package tomorrow.

 

New package?

 

Yeah, man, this weak-ass stepped-on shit
we got out here...

 

get these fiends agitated.

 

Look at them, they still buying it, though.

 

Yes, they're buying twice as much
and only getting half as high.

 

What was that?

 

Castle can't move like that.

 

Castle move up and down or sideways like.

 

- No, we ain't playing that.
- Look at the board, we're playing checkers.

 

- Checkers?
- Yeah, checkers.

 

Why're y'all playing checkers
on a chess set?

 

Why do you give a shit?

 

Man, we ain't got no checkers.

 

Yeah, but chess is a better game.

 

So?

 

No, hold up.

 

Y'all don't know
how to play chess, do you?

 

- So?
- So, nothing, man.

 

- I'll teach y'all if you want to learn.
- Come on, man. No, come on.

 

- We're right in the middle of a game.
- Chill out, I want to see this.

 

Y'all can't be
playing no checkers on no chessboard.

 

All right, man.

 

Look, check it, it's simple.

 

See this?

 

This is the kingpin.

 

And he the man.

 

You get the other dude's king,
you got the game.

 

But he's trying to get your king, too,
so you gotta protect it.

 

Now the king, he moves one space...

 

any direction he damn choose,
'cause he's the king.

 

Like this, all right?

 

But he ain't got no hustle...

 

but the rest of these
motherfuckers on the team...

 

they got his back.

 

And they run so deep,
he really ain't gotta do shit.

 

- Like your uncle.
- Yeah, like my uncle.

 

You see this? This is the queen.

 

She's smart and she's fierce.

 

She moves any way she wants,
as far as she wants.

 

And she is the go-get-shit-done piece.

 

Remind me of Stringer.

 

And this, over here, is the castle.

 

It's like the stash.

 

It moves like this.

 

And like this.

 

Dog, stash don't move, man.

 

Come on, think.

 

How many times we move
the stash house this week?

 

And every time we move the stash...

 

we got to move a little muscle with it
to protect it.

 

True, you're right.

 

All right. What about them little
bald-headed bitches right there?

 

These right here.

 

These are the pawns.
They're like the soldiers.

 

They move like this,
one space forward only...

 

except when they fight.

 

Then it's like...

 

or like this.

 

And they like the front lines.
They be out in the field.

 

So how do you get to be the king?

 

It ain't like that.

 

See, the king stays the king, all right?

 

Everything stays who he is...

 

except for the pawns.

 

Now if a pawn...

 

makes it all the way down
to the other dude's side...

 

he gets to be queen.

 

And like I said, the queen ain't no bitch.

 

She got all the moves.

 

All right, so...

 

if I make it to the other end, I win?

 

If you catch the other dude's king
and trap it, then you win.

 

But if I make it to the end...

 

I'm top dog.

 

No, it ain't like that, look.

 

The pawns, man, in the game...

 

they get capped quick.

 

They be out of the game early.

 

Unless they're some smart-ass pawns.

 

Nagras. Can you fucking believe this?

 

This shit is prehistoric.

 

What else have they got
down there in Property?

 

Eight-tracks? Victrolas?
That fucking department's a joke.

 

We got to get with the feds somehow.

 

They got light-weights,
wireless micro-recorders.

 

Yeah, DEA got those.

 

If I wear this on a warm day,
they're gonna know.

 

Even if they do a half-assed search,
I'm done.

 

Nagras.

 

Jesus.

 

You can't send his ass into the projects
with this shit taped to him.

 

That ain't gonna play.

 

I'm saying.

 

McNulty and the girl...

 

the lezzer from narcotics,
they've got the file.

 

- Who are you partnered with?
- McNulty.

 

But he don't have shit to do with me and
I don't want nothing to do with him neither.

 

Major, I'm a fifth wheel
on a car that's going nowhere.

 

Bring me home.

 

Soon enough.

 

Look, you're my eyes and ears
in this mess, right?

 

And I don't want no more surprises,
like that newspaper article.

 

If McNulty's planning
any more bullshit like that...

 

I got to be able to tell the deputy
before the shit flies.

 

Then you come home
with a favor in your pocket.

 

How bad is that?

 

Lieutenant.

 

You get Carver and Prez back tomorrow,
but Prez is in-office.

 

No police powers, no street work, nothing.

 

If the building catches fire,
he stays in the office.

 

- What about Herc?
- Medical, until Monday at least.

 

I wonder what you gotta do
to get thrown off this police force.

 

Keep on with some of your shit,
you just might find out.

 

Where are the fucking run sheets?

 

Behind the board.

 

You all go for a taste?

 

We got your picture,
don't you fucking worry, McNulty.

 

This is Barksdale?

 

Avon Barksdale.

 

I don't think so.

 

Read my lips.

 

Avon fucking Barksdale.

 

His name's on the form in the file.

 

Excuse me for giving a shit...

 

but I can't help but notice
this is a middle-aged white man.

 

You want something different,
you give me another name.

 

That's the only Avon Barksdale
in the housing department files.

 

You got your smokes?

 

Have a nice fucking day.

 

Maybe he's white.

 

No, I mean, really. What do we really know?

 

"Avon Barksdale.

 

"31 years of age.

 

"Born Provident Hospital, West Baltimore...

 

"to Willette Jackson Barksdale...

 

"father unknown.

 

"Educated Baltimore city schools."

 

Address is in the same public housing
where he controls the drug trade.

 

No flash, no profile.

 

Pretty much comes up out of nowhere.

 

No work history.
No tax information we can look at.

 

No cars in his name, no driver's license.

 

No kids.

 

No priors either.

 

Yeah, here's this vague CI information...

 

that states he stays in
various apartments out in the county.

 

Addresses undetermined, of course.

 

He moves from girlfriend to girlfriend...

 

might have another girlfriend in New York.

 

He likes to work out...

 

and he used to box Golden Gloves
when he was younger.

 

I've been working on him for two weeks
and the truth is, we don't know shit.

 

Golden Gloves?

 

How did you hear that?

 

I don't know.

 

I think I got that from a DEA File.

 

Or from a Cl...

 

who claimed to know him way back when.

 

So you write everything down?

 

Yeah, everything.

 

- Goddamn bomb, y'all.
- Blue-tops, blue-tops.

 

Double shorts.

 

In the hole, man.

 

Got blue-tops. Looking for blues?

 

In the hole, y'all.

 

- Blue-tops.
- Red-tops.

 

- Red-tops.
- Two for $10.

 

Blue-tops, blue-tops.

 

Keep your jab moving.

 

Move with your right. Left, right, left, right.

 

Two punches.

 

I got a few questions
I wanna ask you, Mack.

 

Keep your hands moving,
work to the body some.

 

So who's your target?

 

- Barksdale.
- Who?

 

Avon Barksdale.

 

- Never heard of him.
- That's the thing.

 

This guy's got
the Westside projects locked up.

 

He's tied to maybe a dozen murders,
he's completely off the radar.

 

- Avon, what was it?
- Barksdale.

 

If you say so.

 

DEA has a couple of pages
on him from NADDIS entries.

DEA has a couple of pages
on him from NADDIS entries.

 

Nothing in NCIC, no adult arrests.

 

I've been working drugs
for the Bureau since '98.

 

I can tell you, we got
nothing on him that I know.

 

This little thing...

 

is the smile of the week.

 

Watch this.

 

- What?
- What was that?

 

Get the door.

 

It's a career case.

 

Not that my bosses
give a damn at this point.

 

Why not?

 

Why not?

 

All of them mopes in bracelets
and not one of them named Osama.

 

I owe you, brother. What do you need?

 

A couple of lightweight body mikes.
Wireless, remote taping capability.

 

That's all?

 

Where I come from,
we're just happy to be in the 20th century.

 

Who's running the case,
so I can tell my squad supervisor?

 

Daniels, out of Narcotics.

 

All right, no problem.

 

Shit! Fucking rain, man.

 

All right, y'all know what the fuck this is.

 

- Up against the wall, hurry the fuck up.
- Come on, let's go.

 

Go on to the back.
Ain't got time for this shit.

 

Got some red-tops, some testers.
Get them around the corner.

 

Hurry up, take them around.

 

What the fuck you looking at me for?

 

Get your ass around the corner.

 

I want that shit, that's good.

 

Keep it moving.

 

- Man, you see that?
- Yeah.

 

Third from the end. That's the stash.

 

Some real raggedy-ass shit here, boy.

 

Very sloppy.

 

How old are your kids?

 

Mike is 8, Sean's 10.

 

That's the hard part.

 

Yeah, that's the hard part, but you know...

 

- How often do you get to see them?
- Every other weekend.

 

Trying to get more, but she's fighting me.

 

- Why would she fight you on that?
- She's getting even.

 

Getting even?

 

You must've been fucking around.

 

- I'm just saying.
- You're right.

 

It's always the case.

 

A woman wants to get even,
there's something extra there.

 

How come you got all this wisdom
and your life's so fucking hard?

 

I've been wondering on that myself.

 

How about you? You ever been married?

 

What'd I say?

 

- If you ain't gonna say anything, I am.
- What?

 

If you're a dog,
you barking at the wrong pussy.

 

What, so I'm a dog now?

 

- Meow.
- Bubbles.

 

I date women.

 

We've got something else in common.
I date women, too.

 

So pretty much everyone in CID
has worked this out but me?

 

There wasn't nothing to figure out.
I told them.

 

- I guess I missed the press conference.
- It's better that than to have every police...

 

on three shifts hounding you
every goddamned day.

 

- Cops are dogs.
- Yeah.

 

It's not like I was walking around...

 

waving some dyke flag in the air,
or some shit.

 

- I know I look like I could go either way.
- Lord, yes, you do. Yes, you do.

 

It was something I had to put out there
to get through the day.

 

- I should've known.
- Should've known what?

 

I worked with one other female police officer
who was worth a damn, only one.

 

- A lesbian.
- Yeah.

 

In the beginning, you're in your radio car...

 

alone, working your post.

 

- Most women aren't getting out of that car.
- Right.

 

Not without side partners showing up.

 

They're intimidated, physically.

 

- They gotta be.
- You weren't?

 

Yeah, at first.

 

But I'm talking about some old
straight-out-of-the-academy-type scared...

 

you know what I'm saying?

 

I wasn't about to stay scared.

 

You know, you get your ass kicked
once or twice...

 

you realize
it's not the end of the world, right?

 

Most of the women,
they don't want to believe that.

 

Some of the men, too.
They don't even want to go there.

 

- You think 'cause you're gay?
- I don't know.

 

But is there any other fucking way
to police?

 

All I know is I just love the job.

 

- That'll be $3.20.
- Keep the change.

 

Thanks, have a nice day.

 

Dee coming up.

 

Where's it all go?

 

The money. Where do all the money go?

 

$22,000 or $24,000, give or take.

 

From the low-rises?

 

Damn, boy!
You must have that crew humming.

 

I don't remember a day
we ever got this much from the Courtyard.

 

It wasn't even check day.

 

You doing good out there, Dee.

 

We'll be doing even better
when we get that new package.

 

New package, same as old, man.

 

- Say what?
- Ain't no new package.

 

Just gonna put that same shit
out in a different color gelcap is all.

 

Might spike that shit with some procaine
or some caffeine, but otherwise the same.

 

String, man,
people are already coming back on us...

 

- telling us that shit is weak.
- I know, the shit is weak.

 

But shit is weak all over.

 

The thing is, no matter what we call heroin,
it's gonna get sold.

 

The shit is strong, we're gonna sell it.

 

The shit is weak,
we're gonna sell twice as much.

 

You know why?

 

'Cause a fiend,
he's gonna chase that shit no matter what.

 

It's crazy, you know?

 

We do worse, and we get paid more.

 

The government do better,
and it don't mean no never mind.

 

This shit right here, Dee, it's forever.

 

That's your bonus right there.

 

And you buy something
that you wouldn't otherwise.

 

Thanks, man.

 

All right.

 

You remember me?

 

Do I remember you?

 

I was in here the other day,
you wanted a drink.

 

- Did I get a drink?
- Afraid not.

 

Then why would I remember you?

 

You want to be remembered,
you going about it the wrong way here.

 

All right.

 

The usual.

 

This here's my uncle's place.

 

You kin to Orlando?

 

No.

 

Orlando's like the up-front man, you know?
My uncle's the money man.

 

- Where you from?
- Right here.

 

- Baltimore.
- I know Baltimore, but, like, where?

 

You know Turner Station?

 

Down past Dundalk, near the Point.

 

The Point. So, you're a country girl.

 

- You mean county.
- Where I'm from, the county is the country.

 

Where is that?

 

So...

 

are you working with your uncle?

 

I'm his right hand.

 

Yes, you is.

 

You want to ride with us in the van?

 

- No.
- Why not?

 

You think it's a waste?

 

Touts and children,
that's all you're gonna get.

 

Bingo.

 

Where did you get this?

 

Now, look at this piece of shit.

 

I'm good to go, right?

 

Come here, let me see.

 

Detective Sydnor's ensemble.

 

It's the latest in Westside Project wear.

 

Have your torn cammies by Versace...

 

stained sweatshirt by Ralph Lauren.

 

- Where you miked?
- Down in my dick, man.

 

I figure they ain't gonna
go down there, right?

 

I don't know, Sydnor,
the way you twirling around...

 

might be the first place they look.

 

Fuck you.

 

I ain't showered in two days,
I ain't shaved in four.

 

Right now, I am one ripe,
nasty son of a bitch.

 

Bubbs.

 

What you think?

 

This your man?

 

Yeah.

 

Is he low-bottom enough for you?

 

Clothes is tore down enough...

 

but he could use a little bit more stains,
more dirt.

 

- What's this here, man?
- It's my wedding ring.

 

Shit, you married to the needle, boy.

 

That shit been pawned off, if you for real.

 

It's a dead giveaway.

 

You could stand to lose about 20 pounds,
some yellow in your teeth...

 

fresh bleeds on your hands.

 

So maybe I should go out
and shoot up dope for a year or two, right?

 

- Come back when I can carry the look off?
- I'm just saying, man.

 

The more tore down you look, the better.

 

You going down in them towers,
they gonna check everything.

 

How about the shoes?

 

I know you ain't got no problem
with the shoes, fucked up as they are.

 

Let me see the shoes, man.

 

See?

 

You walking down them alleys
of the projects...

 

you stepping on the dead soldiers.

 

- Dead soldiers?
- Yeah, empty vials.

 

You can't walk down a Baltimore street
without them cracking underneath your feet.

 

You want to know if a fiend is for real...

 

check the bottom of his shoes.

 

Okay.

 

Have him dance on some empties
before we go out there.

 

Get us killed.

 

He hurt your feelings?

 

A little bit.

 

Shit.

 

Four hand-to-hands...

 

two to me, two to Bubbs,
with me close enough to mark it.

 

- From who?
- Kids, mostly.

 

Young-ass hoppers.

 

It's a start.

 

They're pretty tight out here, Kima.

 

If you don't hand no money
to nobody that matters...

 

you don't get no product
from nobody that matters.

 

You want to go back in?

 

Shit, we copped from every crew out here.

 

Ain't we supposed to go off somewhere
and fire this shit up?

 

Yeah, let's get the fuck out of here.

 

Well, now.

 

Did you get to see where the money went
after you handed it off?

 

No.

 

Nothing but touts and runners here.

 

But then again, you told us so.

 

I didn't say that.

 

But as a matter of fact...

 

- Everyone else roll out?
- I--

 

You were upstairs and out of pocket,
so I cut them loose.

 

Just as well.
I'll give them the news tomorrow.

 

What happened?

 

I told the Deputy we had
a few hand-to-hands.

 

Low-level people.

 

He wants us to put everything
into search-and-seizures...

 

and hit the projects Wednesday afternoon.

 

- Lieutenant.
- I know.

 

Does he think that's what
gets us Avon Barksdale?

 

The buys we made,
they don't even go past the courtyards.

 

Scratch together everything
we got from the hand-to-hands...

 

and shape it into PC for the warrants.

 

A few locations, at least.

 

But we don't even know what doors to hit.

 

A few apartments in the low-rises
that we've seen used for stash.

 

Then we write on those.

 

Lieutenant, these guys change
stash houses every other day.

 

Look, the man upstairs wants to see
a circus.

 

A couple of days from now,
I got to show him three rings.

 

Christ.

 

I'm sorry. We gotta jump.

 

- What, is the Deputy Ops stupid?
- No.

 

This shit is fucking stupid.

 

Not if we bring in some arrests...

 

he takes them to the judge,
he figures the judge goes away.

 

And then he buries the fucking case.

 

What are we gonna do?

 

There's nothing you can do,
except pound out some probable cause.

 

- We're gonna be here all fucking night.
- I'm not.

 

- Where the fuck you got to go?
- No, I mean, I can't.

 

I'm not gonna help them gut the case.
I'm sorry.

 

I know he's your lieutenant.
You gotta do what you gotta do.

 

But I can't swallow this shit anymore.

 

- Why are you here?
- I'm thinking about something.

 

- Can I come in?
- No.

 

No?

 

What's the matter, McNulty?
No one ever tells you "no"?

 

Sorry. I should've called.

 

How do you clone a beeper?

 

- What?
- That's what I need to know.

 

You show up at my door at 9:00
to ask me that?

 

They're using pagers, right?

 

Every other drug dealer has a cell phone,
and these guys are all on pagers.

 

What do you want to do?

 

Bunk and me, when we jack up
the Barksdale kid...

 

he's got a Motorola pager.

 

We give it back, so as not to spook him.

 

You want to clone it?

 

Can we do that without a subpoena
to the pager company?

 

Read that.

 

- What is it?
- Affidavit from a state police case.

 

A judge signs something like that,
you can clone a beeper.

 

Christ.

 

Probable cause,
coupled with an exhaustion argument.

 

You've got to show the judge
that other investigative methods have failed.

 

You'll also need a supervisor
who wants you to clone a suspect's pager...

 

knowing that it might lead
to who knows what else...

 

pen registers, wiretaps.

 

Daniels will come around.

 

Daniels will have your ass.

 

Thanks.

 

- That's it?
- What?

 

No.

 

Let me understand.

 

You're married,
and a date's a room at the Best Western.

 

Now you're single, and a date
is you coming over unannounced...

 

to learn the legal requisites
for a pager intercept.

 

Pretty much.

 

No.

 

Okay, I hear you.

 

You?

 

As if you give a shit.

 

You're an asshole, McNulty.

 

What the fuck did I do?

 

- How much more to that pack?
- 50, 60.

 

Re-up's late.

 

Have Wallace hit Stinkum
on his pager again.

 

You want something from carry-out?

 

Yeah, lake trout sub.

 

Pay up.

 

Damn.

 

You asked, I thought you was treating.

 

You thought wrong, I ain't no bank.

 

You stingy like one.

 

Just make sure you give me enough.

 

- No mayo, extra hot, something to drink.
- All right.

 

- He's going for food?
- Yes.

 

Why didn't you tell me?
My stomach's growling like a motherfucker.

 

- Starve, nigger.
- Man, shit.

 

Re-up's here.

 

Stink, what up?

 

What's up, bro? 10 minutes.

 

- 10?
- Yeah.

 

All right.

 

Who's there?

 

Y'all got my back, you heard?

 

Get the fuck in there.

 

Get your ass down.
Sit your stupid ass down.

 

Get the fuck down. Shit, stay there, bitch.

 

Get down, get the fuck down, motherfucker.

 

Where it at?

 

- Ain't nothing here.
- Where it at, man?

 

Shit! Fuck, my leg!

 

Where it at, shorty?

 

- Kitchen, under the sink.
- Go on and get that.

 

Two G-packs. Let's roll.

Two G-packs. Let's roll.

 

- Just two?
- Come on.

 

What the--

 

Stupid.

 

Shit!

 

Let's get the fuck out of here.

 

Shit!

 

Come on, Poot.

 

Fuck!

 

- So, your man saw them get jacked?
- Yeah, part of it.

 

- And he gets the tag number?
- Good man, that Bubbles.

 

Listen up.

 

Western uniforms will meet us
in the Mount Claire parking lot.

 

We start there, and we don't stop
until we take the doors.

 

I want their lookouts
to have as little chance as possible.

 

What's with you?

 

My office.

 

- I'm not going.
- You're insubordinate?

 

I'm not jumping out
on something that will harm the case.

 

- You want to write me up on that, you can.
- You think I want this?

 

I got the Deputy Ops on my ass for this shit.

 

Now you show me up
in front of the whole detail.

 

I don't mean to show anybody up.

 

- Get your vest on.
- No.

 

I got police work to do.

 

If you felt this way,
why didn't you call in sick?

 

I'm not sick.

 

Yeah, you are.

 

Give me a 95 on why you are physically
unable to participate in today's action.

 

What, I'm gonna lie so you can save face?

 

Come on, write it up.

 

"I can't jump out with my unit
because my tummy hurts."

 

I'm not gonna help you gut this case.

 

If you want to pretend to be police,
you go ahead.

 

Let's do it.

 

I'm up.

 

- You're on medical.
- I'm up, boss.

 

Give him a vest.

 

No, motherfucker.
It ain't just up to Stinkum to be muscle.

 

You got the Pit.

 

Your people supposed
to be ready for the re-up.

 

You supposed to be steady for him.
But where you at?

 

You in the goddamn sandwich shop.

 

You got $20,000, Dee,
coming into your shop...

 

and you ain't even around
to see that shit right.

 

Look, I thought re-ups--

 

No, thinking was what you wasn't doing,
and now we look like bitches.

 

You feel me? We got to come back on them.

 

And you can't even tell me shit
about who they was.

 

One of them was named Omar.

 

- Omar?
- Omar, that's the name I heard.

 

- And they had a white van.
- Yeah, I saw the van--

 

- What kind of van?
- Five-0.

 

- Wrong door.
- Yeah?

 

Yeah, switched it yesterday.

 

Let's see your hands.

 

Get out of the way. Let's see your hands.

 

Up, motherfucker, up. Turn around.

 

All the way up.

 

Police. Put your hands up. Put them up!

 

Turn your monkey ass around.
Put your hands at your back.

 

Why you fucking with us, man?

 

Come on, man, damn,
I wasn't even doing shit.

 

Come on, man.

 

Cuff that one, and that one.

 

Motherfucker, how's that feel?

 

You fucked up now. You feel it, right?

 

Why you ain't swinging?

 

Motherfucker. Go ahead,
play that cowboy shit, motherfucker.

 

Hold him down. Hold his arms!

 

Spread your legs.
Don't make me kick your ass, too.

 

Come on!

 

Get him. You don't hit a cop.

 

What's wrong with you, boy?
You wanna hit a cop?

 

If you'd been here earlier,
you'd have seen a beating.

 

Clean. Not a fucking thing in there.

 

Pick any door in the low-rises.
What are the chances?

 

Channel 2 wants to know if she can film
some of the places we raided.

 

She says whatever we got, she'll put on film.

 

- Whatever we got?
- Drugs, weapons.

 

We ain't got shit.

 

I can tell you were never in patrol.

 

Right.

 

- Sorry I'm late.
- What's up?

 

I didn't want to tell you in front of the girl,
her being from Narcotics and all.

 

Daniels is dirty.

 

What?

 

The guy running your case,
he's got dirt on him.

 

You know this?

 

Your own agency came to us with
concerns about him last year.

 

Integrity questions.

 

They didn't want to go to Internal Affairs.
That office leaks like a sieve.

 

Plus they couldn't handle a case
if their lives depended on it.

 

- That, too.
- You looked at Daniels specifically?

 

We did a two-month assets investigation.

 

The man has a couple hundred thousand
more in liquid assets...

 

than any police lieutenant should ever have.

 

Maybe he goes to Atlantic City. Seriously.

 

You look at his background?
Maybe he's got other sources of income.

 

Maybe. We never got the chance
to go further.

 

Why not?

 

We went to your Deputy for Operations
and told him what we had.

 

- You took it to Burrell?
- He says, "We'll take it from here."

 

So, we backed away and waited
for something to happen.

 

- And waited.
- That was a year ago?

 

Maybe more.

 

And that fucker's still
the Supervisor for Narcotics.

 

So, you tell me what the hell's going on.

 

Anyway, if he's running your case,
I just thought you'd want to know.

 

Thanks.