Everything's gonna be okay, sweetheart.
Once you rub
a couple of pinches of powder into the soles,
you'll be flying.
Yes, of course I'm coming. I promise you.
Just as soon as I smooth over a minor disagreement here.
This is how you start peace talks?
Given our past, be thankful you're not strip searched.
We understand.
This puts us at your mercy.
There's nothing about that that's understandable.
This way.
Why'd you have to insult him?
His family is our enemy.
Whatever happens today is not gonna change that.
Maybe not for you and Vicente.
Me?
I hope today changes everything.
Ah! Vicente! Raoul!
Good afternoon, gentlemen.
What were you doing in my pantry?
Snooping.
Most people go through the mail or medicine cabinets.
You'd be surprised how much a butler's pantry
can tell you about a person.
Well, what did you find out about me?
You have an encyclopedic collection
of crystal and glassware,
everything from highballs to old-fashioneds,
martinis and pints, brandy snifters.
It's impressive.
I applaud your liver.
But it seems you're nostalgic for an earlier time.
I didn't expect a meal so elegantly fin de siecle.
I didn't come here to eat. I came to listen.
You said you have a proposal.
Let's hear it.
Forbearance.
Forbearance isn't a plan.
No, it's a prerequisite.
It means we eat first and discuss later.
So, we followed the column of bubbles,
and there was Vicente, narked off his gourd
in the sunken chassis of the '39 Alfa Romeo.
Five more minutes, and he would have been dead.
But Raoul and I zipped him to the surface,
where you promptly spat out your regulator and barked...
"Couldn't you hear me honking and honking?"
In our minds, that car was mythic.
The ghost in the Bayano Reservoir.
But when we brought it to the surface...
you know, all the mystique was gone.
We'd risked our lives for an old car.
A lot of things in life are like that,
things you think are terribly important,
but when you dredge them up and really look...
they're not.
My proposal is fair. It will work.
As long as you have forbearance.
So, as a toast, a pledge, to forbearance.
A moment, Raymond. Uh...
I have something very special.
Clos du Mesnil, '06.
Oh, my goodness.
For everyone.
Sparkling cider for me.
Sulfite allergies, I'm afraid.
Yeah.
And no, Raoul, I'm not trying to poison you.
I just don't want to poison myself.
To forbearance.
-Salud. -Salud.
Salud.
Well, that is delicious, Vicente.
You okay?
- Vicente! - He may be in shock.
Lie him down.
Does anyone have an EpiPen?
Yes, I have one.
Vicente?
What have you done?
Me? The food is yours!
He drank his own cider!
Leon didn't.
I'll call 911.
No, you won't.
They're anaphylactic. They might die if I don't.
The rest of us will die if you do.
I'm afraid I've seen this before.
I know what comes next.
Nobody leaves.
Nobody comes in.
I'll explain why after we do everything we can
to make Vicente and Leon a little more comfortable.
Forbearance is suddenly the least of our problems.
This is my two-month token, and I want you to have it.
It's your chip. You earned it.
I saw my dealer yesterday. Not like that.
He was in my CVS, buying Preparation H.
At first I was like, "Wow. Karma, right?"
Then... I waited on the urge.
To buy. To use.
But it was just weird.
It was like when you were a kid,
seeing your teacher outside of school.
That's a huge step.
Oh, and I moved back in with Jill.
Whoa. That's incredible.
Yeah. She knows that I'm a-a work in progress.
But she said that she likes what she's seen so far.
And a lot of that is because of you.
No. It's you.
Next to Jill, you are the most important person in my life.
And-- And I barely know anything about you.
Well, the "A" in "NA" stands for "anonymous."
I know what I need to know.
You saved my life.
Which is why this belongs to you.
Vicente and Leon?
Yes, within seconds of each other.
After the toast? So it was the wine.
They drank from separate bottles.
Whatever the toxin, my guess is we've all been exposed.
It reminds me of the incident in East Timor.
You said you thought he was dead.
I did. I'm afraid I may have been wrong.
We know him only as Wormwood.
A hired killer. Relatively new in the game.
But his poisons are nearly undetectable.
This Wormwood just poisoned two people?
Two brothers.
Vicente and Leon Sandoval.
Killed at their villa in Miami.
The Sandoval and Montano family
own a mine in the Dominican Republic.
Rich in cobalt and aluminum.
Decades ago, negligence by a member
of the Sandoval family resulted in a mining accident
that claimed the life of the Montanos' patriarch.
Within a few weeks,
two Sandovals had been killed in retaliation,
and the families have been blood enemies ever since.
What's this got to do with Red?
Once the feud started, the mining stopped.
Sensing an opportunity,
Raymond offered to manage the mine for them.
He solved their business problem,
but clearly not their personal one.
That's what he wanted to do today.
It seems someone disagreed.
Which brings us back to Wormwood.
Who is he?
I don't care who he is.
I care who hired him.
It wasn't me.
Then why is it only my family was poisoned?
Wormwood doesn't poison people
so much as he hot-wires their immune systems
to make them even more vulnerable to be poisoned.
He weaponizes even the smallest allergen,
and he hides his target
by making everyone around that target equally at risk.
If I'm right and this is Wormwood,
we've all been exposed.
A jet crash in the rice fields of East Timor
after a bad in-flight meal.
And last year, the former CEO
of GoldiBlock Security and Software
was found dead on a Madagascar beach,
killed by his suntan lotion.
Each death caused by a previously mild,
suddenly virulent allergy in the victim.
I need some air.
Open that window
and it might be the last breath you take.
Next time, they should wand you.
We did wand him.
I don't have any allergies!
Or an attention span, apparently.
We now are vulnerable to everything.
And we can't do anything about that
until we know how we've been made vulnerable.
And until we figure that out, we aren't going anywhere.
But rest assured,
I have the top man working on it as we speak.
Yeah. Forget it.
You won't be eating the food or drinking the wine.
Going there won't put you in any risk.
Going into a room with mortal enemies,
two dead bodies,
and three decades of recrimination? I'm good.
It's not just the families that are at risk.
Raymond is, too.
These are seasoned criminals.
I can't just roll up in there.
You can, as Red's medical expert.
But I'm not Red's medical expert.
Herbert is my medical expert,
a world-renowned forensics analyst.
The suit is not only for his protection,
but also to protect us from... well, everything.
Sorry for your loss.
He didn't lose anyone.
Or kill anyone.
Well, you keep saying that.
Because it's true.
I came here to make peace, especially now.
Especially now?
The feud began with the murder of a Montano.
Let it end with the death of two Sandovals!
Enough!
Raoul?
-Raoul? -No, no, no, no.
Please! Do something!
There's nothing he can do.
That's dermatographia.
It's an allergy to human touch.
It's quite common. It's never deadly.
Until now.
You saw it.
He murdered my father.
We saw your father murdered,
but not by Izan.
There's a pox on both your houses.
If I were you,
I'd start working on that peace,
because you have more in common now than ever.
Someone wants you all dead.
Are you seeing my spectroscopy report?
Seeing, yes. Understanding, no.
The food's been laced with a chemical compound
that excites immunoglobulin E.
Immunoglobulin E is the antibody
responsible for most allergic reactions.
By exciting it, Wormwood has turned mild reactions
into deadly ones.
It looks like Leon had a mild version
of his brother's sulfite allergy.
But as for Vicente,
trace amounts of sulfites
are a natural by-product of cider making.
I mean, not enough to put on the label,
but in this case, enough to kill.
Is the compound traceable to Wormwood?
Theoretically, yes.
It's built onto a base molecule
used in blood pressure medications.
Send us a list of the medications.
We'll find the pharmaceutical company that makes them
and track him through their records.
Two warring families. Poison. Murder.
This case is straight out of my book club.
You're in a book club that's reading Romeo and Juliet?
What? No. Dune.
The Capulets have nothing on the Harkonnens.
You do know that George Lucas
stole the whole Jedi thing from Frank Herbert, right?
Feel free to fill us in
after you send over that list of chemicals.
The Harkonnens may be more devious than the Capulets,
but they have nothing on the Montanos.
I'm Gabriella Sandoval, Vicente's daughter.
Did the peace talks drag on all night?
Just-- Just for your own safety,
for your own safety, please step back.
Just step back, please. Step back.
What's going on?
Why are you here and wearing that?
Oh.
I'm here...
wearing that because something terrible...
I'm so sorry.
Your father is dead.
What?
No, that's not true.
What are you doing?
Taking over the family and the war.
Geez. It's getting hard to breathe in here.
Your war killed my father.
Your brother is dead because of the war.
Which is why it's a war we have to win.
When it's your turn to wear this,
I hope you accept that.
Reddington's right.
We have a common enemy.
- Are we still at risk? - I don't know.
But I gave our friends a lead on Wormwood,
so once they find him, we'll figure it out.
You know, over the years,
women have gazed upon me
with pretty equal measures of love and loathing.
My survival has often depended
on being able to tell the difference.
David, what the hell? The window!
He opened it.
You told him not to, but he did.
He's gonna get us all killed!
I was given a list...
who would be here.
You weren't on it.
Tito Sandoval canceled last minute.
A seat was open. My father invited me.
I was surprised.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one.
I don't know what you mean.
Oh, I think you do, Don Montano.
The base compound Herbie gave us is in public domain.
A dozen companies make the meds,
and the distribution's global.
There's no way to ID Wormwood from that supply chain.
So the drugs are a dead end.
Yes, but there was a chef.
And if she poisoned the food for Wormwood--
Do you have a name?
Naomi Lindquist, of Naomi Osteria.
Raymond loves her gnocchi.
What I know about wormwood is this.
It's a shrub. It has a bitter taste.
It's used in vermouth.
This Wormwood is a person, not a shrub,
and they kill people
using their natural allergic response system.
Tell us about the job.
It was a job like any other job, except...
Pistachio.
More acid.
Except what?
Except for the tension.
If you insist on going through with this,
you'll choke on your peace.
Did you just threaten me?
I'll do more than that if you don't stop with this nonsense.
What are you looking at?
That was Vicente Sandoval and some relative.
Tito?
Perhaps you should be talking to them.
Four people are dead because they ate your food.
Four people are dead,
but not because of what they ate.
Well, how can you be so sure?
Because I ate.
There isn't a dish that goes out I don't taste.
It's yummy.
You said this Wormwood attacks his victim
via their allergies?
I have a nut allergy.
It gives me another sense with which to understand my medium.
If I were poisoned, would I still be alive?
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a restaurant to run.
Before you ask, the answer is no.
Legislative affairs is happy to cooperate--
Jonathan, I called you in today to talk to you,
not a press liaison.
T-This isn't about OLA?
No. It's about your relationship with Donald Ressler.
I understand you're helping each other recover.
I respect that,
but not as much as I respect our country.
F-First of all, my relationship with Don Ressler
is none of your business.
And second, he's a patriot
who has devoted his life to the FBI.
Agent Ressler is an integral part of a secret task force
working on behalf of Raymond Reddington.
The crime lord? That's laughable.
And has nothing to do with me. Why am I here?
-I need proof. -No.
I need someone close to a task force member to get it for me.
Then find someone else.
-There is no one else. -He's my friend.
You're the only one in a position to find out,
to help him.
I don't believe you.
Elizabeth Keen was a corrupt FBI agent
and Reddington's heir apparent.
She was also Ressler's lover.
You don't believe me? Ask him about her.
Ask him about Liz Keen.
We're running out of time.
For them and for Reddington.
We need to find Tito Sandoval.
The chef heard him threaten Vicente over peace talks.
And the food. Did he poison it?
It wasn't the food. The chef tasted everything.
She's got allergies. She's not sick.
We spoke to Raymond.
Tito was a no-show at the meeting.
He said he'd rather kill people than make peace,
and the people who tried making peace have been killed.
At a meeting he was supposed to attend but didn't.
Does Reddington know where Tito is?
No, but he's trying to find out.
- Soon as he does, you pick him up.
Everything okay?
It's my sponsee, but I'll-- I'll see him after--
Go. Check on your guy.
Dembe and Siya can track down Tito.
This was my goal.
You were my goal.
A new generation taking charge,
leaving old wounds and grudges behind.
You did this. You killed them.
This was my goal, not my plan.
I intended to talk you all to death, not kill you.
I've lost eight family members to this war.
I told my father this was senseless
and urged him to make peace.
I never expected to wear this.
But now that I do, I promise you, Izan,
as far as my family is concerned...
the dying stops here.
If you need an incentive, try this.
What's happened here,
your brother Tito is responsible for it.
No. That can't be.
There's only one way to find out.
He would never move against family.
He was against the peace.
He should have been here but wasn't.
If this is to end,
he needs to answer for himself.
Where is he?
-I don't know. -I do.
We were tracking you.
The meeting was on your property.
We needed to be sure there were no surprises.
Surprises?
This peace was founded on a good-faith negotiation.
The fact that you'd go behind our backs--
It was my father's decision.
But honestly... he was right.
Most good-faith negotiations don't end in murder.
If Tito is responsible,
there can be no peace until he's found.
So where is he?
Room's clean.
FBI, Mr. Sandoval. Open the door.
Mr. Sandoval?
Gun!
Hey! What the hell's going on here?
And my father, too?
You look surprised.
You burst in here
and tell me my father and uncle have been murdered.
Of course I'm surprised.
Who is Wormwood?
I have no idea.
Was the plan only to kill Montanos?
Is that why you're surprised? The collateral damage?
You think I did this?
You think I killed my family?
The chef heard you in the kitchen,
threatening to kill your uncle if he tried to make peace.
Yeah, I threatened him.
But that's all it was, a threat.
Everyone there has been poisoned,
and you're here what, raiding the mini-bar?
I'm here because my uncle wouldn't let me be there.
What are you looking at?
Listen to me.
You will be betrayed
the second you lower your guard.
The only language the Montanos understand is violence!
Reddington is mediating.
They know better than to try anything when he's involved.
Now, all you have to do is sit, nod,
and stop acting like a child.
I can't support this.
Support?
I expect obedience.
If you can't give me that, I don't want you there.
I warned him.
He'd still be a alive if he'd listened to me.
Everyone in that room may die.
Izan is there. Your flesh and blood.
-If you can help us-- -I would if I could.
Wormwood can. Just tell us--
I already told you! I don't know who that is!
Except that apparently he killed my family.
Why would you think I'd want that?
Because everyone else is dead.
Or may die except for you,
which would end the war and make you king.
Of what?
An empire of the dead?
You're under arrest.
You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say
can and will be used against you in a court of law.
Dembe.
No. No, no, no no, no, no, no, no.
Call 911.
It's Wormwood.
He's been poisoned, too.
There must have been something on my hands when I touched him.
Hold on.
We're getting you help now.
- Hello? - 911. What's your emergency?
I need an ambulance at Hotel Marmae, room 205.
- Donald. - Hey, Jon.
I've been trying to reach you.
You texted me but then went AWOL.
I was about to call your wife.
-I'm-- I'm glad you didn't. -Are you using?
I-I've been-- I've been doing a lot of thinking.
Look. Where are you? I'm coming to get you.
I'll be okay. Thank you.
It's just work's been beating me up.
I-I've been-- I've been asked to--
to pry into someone's personal life,
someone I care about.
Why would they ask you to do that?
They say that it's for his own good,
this friend of me is, uh, is being taken advantage of,
and if I got, um, proof of that,
they might be able to, you know, set him straight.
I'm sorry you're getting pressured like that,
but you can't let this push you off the wagon.
You worked way too hard to relapse now.
One time at a meeting,
I remember you talking about... falling back,
you know, using again.
It was something personal, right, the trigger?
-Yeah. -I'm sorry.
I don't want to take you back. I-It's just--
It-- It helps to know I'm not alone, you know?
Well, I lost someone.
Someone I cared about very much.
Did they die?
Yeah. She was killed right in front of me.
Oh, God.
Oh. I'm-- I'm so sorry.
That-- That must have been horrifying.
Well, I spun out hard after that.
I smoked, snorted, whatever I could do to forget.
But of course you can't forget. At least I can't.
So I go to the meetings. I talk it out.
Thank you for... for sharing that,
for letting me hang on to you.
Hey, we're hanging on to each other.
W-What was her name?
Liz. Her name was Liz.
Tell me exactly how it happened.
Tito reacted to my touch.
There must have been something on my hands,
moisturizer or soap.
We won't know for sure until the tox report is complete.
Five people are dead
and we're no closer to identifying Wormwood
or how he put you at risk.
What was our common point of exposure?
Not the wine.
The food, then?
Well, the chef ate it, and she's fine.
Tito didn't. He's dead.
What else? Think.
The dishes.
Tito wasn't at the meal.
But he was in the kitchen,
and that's when he cut his hand when he smashed the dish.
They're a common denominator.
The waiters touched them, too,
and as far as we know, they haven't been exposed.
No, because they wore gloves.
I thought it was a nod to elegance and charm.
I assumed it was Vicente's doing.
That theory expired with him.
Do you have another theory?
Maybe.
But I need Herbie to speak with a waiter to confirm it.
Why are you wearing that?
Oh, this. Um, I can explain.
Oh, God. Are we dying, too?
No, no, no. No. No.
But if you are, which I doubt,
I don't want to be the one to kill you.
Let me start over. The dishes--
Did you ever touch them?
You're really freaking me out.
If it's any consolation,
it's like 1,000 degrees in here.
I wasn't poisoned, but I may die of heat stroke.
So I was poisoned?
Not if you didn't touch the dishes with your bare hands.
We were told not to,
ordered to wear gloves the whole time.
Oh. Okay. This order-- Who gave it to you?
Gabriella.
Mr. Reddington.
I'm so sorry.
Your upset is apparent and moving.
Clearly you find what is happening in here
deeply disturbing.
I do.
You can't imagine how much.
Oh, I'm fairly confident I can.
Of course.
The loss of a parent is universal.
As is the fear of losing a lover.
The gloves were a necessary precaution.
Didn't want to start killing off the help.
I don't know
what you're talking about.
I'm late
for a very important engagement,
so I'll cut right to it.
I'm not afraid to die.
As that is the exception to the rule,
I almost always have the advantage.
I certainly do with you.
I'm afraid I don't understand.
I'm not afraid to die.
You, on the other hand,
are terrified that Michael will.
What the waiters wore, what you ate.
Dad asked me to organize the dinner,
so that's what I did.
What you did was try and kill everyone between you
and happily ever after.
The warriors and extremists on both sides
who'd never approve of Romeo and Juliet.
Unfortunately, Tito canceled and... Romeo snuck in.
Yes, I want peace,
for lots of reasons.
That's what today was about.
Why would I do anything to ruin that?
Because generations of war
made you doubt I could mediate peace
and because you thought maybe the world would assume that I,
being who I am,
might have been the target of this attack,
perhaps the others collateral damage,
but certainly, no one would
so much as look in your direction.
Yes?
No? Nothing?
Oh, well.
What are you doing?
As I said, I'm late for an engagement,
and death is a friend.
Please. Don't do that.
Tell me why not.
And if you're honest, maybe I won't.
Because if you do it...
it might kill the man I love.
Wormwood. Where can we find him?
All I have is an IP address on the dark web.
Since I saw Michael,
I've been trying to contact him,
but he hasn't responded.
Does Michael know what you've done?
No. But I did it for him.
For us.
Ah. And the toxin?
All I have is the empty bottle it came in.
Well, that's a start.
Get me a photo of it.
Please.
I am sorry.
Some killers are.
This is what Gabriella got from Wormwood.
It's called a reagent bottle.
They're used exclusively for research and development.
This one's made by Polmyrex.
Does it get us closer to Wormwood?
Not by itself.
Polmyrex distributes it to 15 pharmaceutical companies.
I cross-referenced our list of buyers
with the list of potential pharmaceutical manufacturers
we got from Herbie,
and we got one hit.
A company called Heliod RX.
We're headed there now.
Good luck. And keep us posted.
That's our research team.
A couple of projects under way at the moment.
I don't know if Fleischmann called you,
but I assure you, our finances are in order and up to date.
Save the accounts.
We're more interested in who concocted this.
That bottle contained a substance
that was used in a string of poisonings,
and we have reason to believe it was developed here.
Nothing goes out unless it's passed
15 discrete safety benchmarks and animal trials.
Any candidates fail animal trials?
This substance targets the immune system.
The only thing I can think of is Adumark.
It was our golden goose, but animal trials went...
Well...
"catastrophic" was what I wrote in the report.
Who conducted those trials?
Dr. Harris was lead.
With what happened to those test animals
and with press snooping around, we sidelined the project.
-Where is he now? -General research meeting.
You passed him on your way in.
Thank you.
This way.
He must've gone down the stairs.
You go after him. I'll call for backup.
Funny statistic.
Most runners go up stairs, not down.
My people have found Wormwood.
Did he give them an antidote?
Not yet, but he will.
The question now isn't whether we'll live,
but what we'll do with the gift of living.
Personally, I'm hoping for a few laughs,
some soft kisses, and peace in our time.
I've already told Izan that's what I want.
Four people are dead, and you talk peace?
Not until we have the killer.
Not until I have proof that his family isn't responsible.
My family?
We've always been the victims,
starting with my grandfather.
-He was a good man. -Whose death was accidental.
The mine collapsed because your family miswired the charges.
Rocks shifted. It was an accident!
What's done is done,
whether accidentally or on purpose.
After three generations, it simply does not matter.
Do I have your word that you did not do this?
-You do. -And you have mine.
That's enough for me. Is it enough for you?
I need proof.
How's this?
Michael and your cousin Gabriella are lovers.
Is this true?
It is, which is why I want peace.
Because the war has kept us apart.
I'm not responsible for this.
Then who is?
Love.
You just got done saying love is why he wouldn't do it.
Michael wouldn't, no.
But love in the wrong hands or hearts... is reckless,
and, in my experience, as dangerous as any hatred.
That can't be true.
You got the proof you wanted.
It's terrible and tragic,
but you can use it to end this nonsense once and for all.
Or not.
The decision is yours.
I did it for us.
You killed my father for us?
Sooner or later, the feud would have killed him,
your father and mine.
It had to stop.
How does this stop anything?
It puts you in charge, to make peace, to end it.
End it? You killed four people.
Can you and Izan make peace?
-That's beside the point. -That's the only point.
Because it's the only way we can be together.
And I'm sorry, but to me,
that's the only thing that matters.
I know you feel the same way.
I thought you were different.
I am different.
Yeah.
You're worse.
Lawyer.
You killed four people,
poisoned three others, and you're asking for a lawyer?
If that's the accusation,
sounds like you answered your own question.
You know, if my poison
ended up being used on Raymond Reddington,
I'd want to cooperate with whoever I could,
just to stay safe.
You're making that up.
And they say his people can reach anyone anywhere.
You can go to central lockup
and wait to talk to your lawyer for a day, a week, a month.
Or you can stay at an FBI black site.
That might be enough to protect you from Reddington's wrath.
What do you want to know?
Tell us about Adumark.
It's made with a chirality of two of the normal--
It's sticky.
It adheres to white blood cells.
-That's it. -That's all it does?
It causes a drug-induced hypersensitivity.
Rather than the body reacting to it,
it tunes the body to react to the environment.
Any immunological quirks you may have,
they become lethal.
Why sell it?
Saving lives was never the goal.
I wanted wealth, status.
Instead, I got a chemical whose only use was delayed
and near untraceable death.
Adumark killed my career,
so I stayed at Heliod for the lab access,
so I could synthesize it whenever I want.
-We need the antidote. -No, you don't.
The three people you poisoned do.
You guys don't seem to understand.
It was built on a blood pressure medication.
So?
So it's processed like a blood pressure medication.
Kidneys eliminate it through the urine.
You don't want to die?
All you got to do is wait it out in a clean room.
For how long?
Eighteen, twenty-four hours tops.
That's it?
That's it.
Except for the part where you thank me
for exposing Reddington.
FBI's most wanted for God knows how long,
and I'm the one who took him out.
-Did you hear that? -I did.
By my count, Reddington and the others
have seven more hours before they're in the clear.
As long as Reddington stays put,
he should be fine.
Then he's a dead man walking.
Did you speak with Reddington?
I called him like you asked to tell him to stay put.
He didn't pick up, so I tried Herbie.
He told me that Reddington's gone.
Gone? Gone where?
Well, he didn't say, just that... he left.
Not to worry. I'm on my way.
I promised I'd be there.
I wouldn't be caught dead anywhere else.
I don't know how to come back from this.
Maybe we don't come back.
Maybe we start over.
How?
Forbearance.
Raymond wasn't there. Have you heard from him?
We have not.
I don't understand Reddington.
He just had to sit tight for a few more hours.
Why put himself at such risk?
Jonathan.
Can't say I'm surprised to see you.
You asked him about Elizabeth?
I did.
Even after he told me, uh, about their connection,
I-I didn't want to believe what you said about him was true.
But the more I looked into who Agent Keen was...
-She killed the attorney general. -Mm.
She was a fugitive with Reddington.
We need to pull it down, and we need to do it now,
and I can't do that without your help.
What do you need me to do?
Do you have a death wish?
No, but you must,
or you'd think twice about sneaking into my home.
Like you sneak into mine?
I rely on your preternatural calm.
I think you know me well enough not to rely on mine.
You should be in quarantine.
You should have seen Agnes.
She was heaven.
Absolute heaven.
I would have loved to have seen her,
but I was a little busy trying to save your ass.
Which I might not have done
had I known how little you value it.
Has Herbie explained the problem to you?
How vulnerable you are for the next few hours?
How you could die from just about anything you smell
or touch or taste?
Life is risk management, Harold.
Priorities, dangers, promises.
I gave my word to Agnes.
Keeping it is worth the risk.
You have no power against this. None.
After all the precautions you've taken over the years
to survive,
suddenly, you're okay with putting your life
in the hands of pure dumb luck.
Why?
Did Wormwood talk?
Tell me.
We got a blacklister.
Solved a generational dispute.
Some of us went to the ballet.
That's a good day in anyone's estimation.
It certainly is in mine.
It's not a game.
And we're not simply associates.
I care about you.
More importantly, Agnes cares about you.
You need to respect that.
I do, Harold.
Very much.
At this time in our lives,
I, for one, want as many reminders
of the good and the beauty that this world has to offer.
Like Agnes' ballet?
Like Agnes' ballet.
I can't think of a better reason
to risk my life.
Can you?