- Come on, let's keep it moving, folks.
Judge Bergen hates it when we're late.
- Six weeks doing this, Marshal.
We know everything there is to know about Judge Bergen.
- Yeah, it's been a long trial.
U.S. government thanks you for your jury service.
You're only sequestered to protect you
from outside influence.
Now let's load up!
Come on, people.
Let's keep it moving.
Move it along. Come on!
- He cornered me in the hallway last night.
I've seen him hanging around.
- Are you going to say something to the marshal?
- I don't know, but I'm telling you, Arnold.
The guy was threatening me.
- You two know you shouldn't
be talking outside the deliberation room.
Now get on the bus.
[gun clicks]
[gunshot]
[screaming]
[gunshot]
[gun clicking]
[dramatic music]
♪ ♪
- Oh!
- Where's your head at today, Scola?
- Uh, it's just a lot on my mind.
- That's what this whole thing is about.
You leave all that out there.
- What's the score?
- Water break. - Come on, what?
- Water break.
You gonna tell me why you all of a sudden
have bricks for hands?
- Yeah, you don't wanna hear about that.
- Come on, Maggie's getting some R&R.
We're rolling together today. What's going on?
- We had dinner last night with a friend's wife.
He passed a few years ago, you know.
So I check up on her, see how she's doing,
the kid, you know.
- I'm sorry to hear that.
- Yeah, thanks.
Nah, he would-- he'd be all over me too
if he saw how I was playing today.
- If this is just a sob story to get me to stop
whipping your ass up and down the courts,
it's not gonna work. - What? Let's go.
[phone buzzing]
Let's go. What?
- Your comeback is gonna have to wait.
[dramatic music]
Let's go.
- 22 years on the job,
I never thought I'd see a day like this.
- Federal juror protection detail's usually a cakewalk.
- Yeah, that's what I thought.
This is a high-profile case-- mafia trial.
We're trained for this, but--
- Just don't see it coming.
- I should've done more.
- Well, you kept ten of them alive.
- Can you tell us anything about our two victims?
- Sure, I can.
I was by their side every day for the past month.
June Schrader. She was a doctor.
Always showing me pictures of her kid.
And Arnold Mills, a history teacher.
They were always bickering,
but it was in a good-natured way.
- How about the shooter? - You get a good look?
- Son of a bitch was wearing a mask.
I could see his eyes. He was a white dude.
Maybe about 5'10".
If I had to put money on it,
I'd say he weighed a buck-sixty.
- OK, we'll get the physical description to NYPD.
ERT recovered a 12 gauge.
No prints. Serial was scratched off.
- Yeah, that's what he used.
- Did you see where the shooter came from?
- Came from over there.
And then he ran off that way.
He must've been lying in wait for us.
The judge calls the jury in different times each day.
Are you good? I need to update my command.
- Yeah, we're good. Thanks, Kimble.
- OK, so we have a shooter
that kills two federal jurors in a high stakes mafia trial.
- On the last day of closing arguments.
- What're you thinking?
- Well, he could've had beef with a couple of the jurors,
but...
- Most likely had to do with the trial.
♪ ♪
- OA, check this out.
♪ ♪
- Malchitti sigarettes. Italian brand.
- Rained last night, right?
- Mm-hmm.
- These are fresh.
- Let's get ERT to bag them up.
Maybe our lab can pull some prints.
♪ ♪
- All right, folks, look alive.
We have two federal jurors gunned down
outside the hotel where they were being sequestered.
They were serving in a federal case against this man,
Sam Ardizzone, boss of the Ardizzone crime family
on trial for murder, racketeering.
Our working theory is the shooting was jury intimidation.
In the trial, Ardizzone was about to lose--
meant to keep him out of prison.
DOJ's clamoring for heads, so where we at?
- If our killer's plan was to cause a mistrial, he succeeded.
DOJ will have to retry Ardizzone's case.
The other jurors are in protective custody.
- All right, so let's talk about this crew--
associates, hangouts, anywhere our killer could go to ground.
Organized Crime, I'm looking at you.
- The Ardizzone family's a minor player
in the Cosa Nostra,
an offshoot of one of the five major families.
LCN was decimated by regal prosecutions
in the '70s and '80s.
All the old-timers are in prison.
- Or dead. - That too.
Sam's crew is making a name for themselves--
loan sharking, illegal sportsbook.
And they diversified into crypto scams--
OnlyFans extortion, prostitution.
These are not nice men.
We're checking up on associates and hangouts,
but so far, no chatter about the shooting.
- All right, keep digging. I want leads, all right?
Are we getting anything from the crime scene?
- We didn't get a print match on the cigarette package,
but check this.
Malchitti cigarettes are only sold in Italy.
- That tracks.
Sicily mafia sends their members over here
with their American cousins to toughen them up.
- So it's possible we're looking for a Sicilian shooter.
Ian, anything?
- No recent Sicilian travelers
through JFK, LaGuardia, or Newark who ping on Interpol.
- Could be this guy isn't on law enforcement's radar yet.
- Hey, I just got off with Main Justice.
The deputy AG wants this buttoned up now.
- Yeah.
Maybe he's been here for a while.
Ian, let's scrub back maybe 18 months.
- Copy that. [keyboard clacks]
All right, here we go.
Giovanni DeFalco, 31.
Native of Palermo, Sicily.
Cleared customs at JFK in August.
- And get this.
He's a distant cousin to Ardizzone.
- He is?
- And this is his girlfriend, looks like.
Facial rec popped on her social media.
- Got a location for her? [computer chirps]
- Yeah, an apartment in Bensonhurst.
- Maybe she knows where Giovanni is.
It'd be nice to talk to him.
♪ ♪
[muffled arguing]
- I'm not giving you money again.
[banging on door] - FBI, open up!
Open the door, or we're gonna open it for you.
[lock clicks]
- You want him? Take him.
- DeFalco, don't run! Hey!
[dramatic music]
- All right, going around!
♪ ♪
- Pursuing the suspect off of 28th Street.
[car horn blares] [tires screech]
[grunting]
We said don't run.
[handcuffs clicking]
- Hear that?
Now you gotta come with us.
[door buzzes and clicks]
- Two federal jurors were gunned down outside of a hotel
in Queens this morning, Mr. DeFalco.
Bad news is, we matched your prints to
a pack of Malchitti cigarettes found at the crime scene.
You wanna tell us why you were there?
- I don't know what you're talking about.
- Look at that.
That's you--threatened one of the jurors last night.
And we know you got a motive.
We know that you work for Sam Ardizzone.
- AUSA hangs these murders on you,
you are looking at life in prison, or worse.
- You have the wrong man.
- Well, the evidence says otherwise.
And with your criminal connections,
we won't have trouble making these charges stick.
- [sighs]
I was at the hotel.
They sent me--Sam's guys did--
but only to scare the jurors, never kill them.
- Yeah, I'm having a hard time believing that one.
- The job was to secure a not guilty verdict
through intimidation.
A mistrial doesn't help my cousin.
Now he has even more charges.
[speaks Italian]
- Excuse me?
- How you Americans say,
what a mess.
- Then why'd you run?
- You think Sam will take lightly to this situation?
He'll blame me.
I wasn't running from the FBI. I was running from him.
- So we're just supposed to take you at your word
on that then, huh?
- I was at a café
getting an espresso at the time of the shooting.
I'm sure there's video.
You love tracking your citizens, no?
♪ ♪
- Hey, where are we with the shooter?
- OK, security footage confirmed DeFalco's alibi.
He was not at the hotel the time the jury was attacked,
so we are back to square one.
- Maybe not yet. - Yeah? Why, what do you got?
- We ran with something DeFalco said during his interview.
The city's underworld had eyes on Ardizzone's trial.
We cross-referenced traffic cam footage
with the jurors' transport during the trial.
One car kept showing up.
- OK.
Can we get the ID off the plates?
- No dice, it's a Moto car--
peer-to-peer rental like Airbnb for cars.
- You can't figure out who rented it?
- Renter spoofed their ID.
Paid with a gift card. They're anonymous.
- All right, can we track the car through the city?
- Yep, already on it.
Here it is at the courthouse.
The hotel.
And check this, it went to the same address repeatedly
over the last week. - Who lives there?
- Uh, Brad Kimble.
The U.S. marshal?
- Get a team over to Kimble's house now.
We're missing something.
[tense music]
- Door's open.
♪ ♪
[door creaks]
[soft indistinct TV chatter]
- We found Kimble. He's dead.
I need ERT and an ME down here now.
- Clear.
- The jurors were never the target.
Kimble was.
[dramatic music]
♪ ♪
[camera shutter clicks] - OK, so it's knock-knock.
Kimble answers the door, boom.
- First one to the chest.
Drags him back into the house.
Killer follows him in.
Pumps him three more times.
- OK, so first shot kills him.
What, the next three are for insurance?
- Gotta make a point.
- Well, I talked to the neighbor.
They didn't hear anything, but they did say that
NYPD raided this house six days ago.
- That would explain the massive dent in the front door.
- Oh, you think that's...
- Damage from a battering ram.
Then we got scorch marks here from a flash-bang.
- Wow, so what the hell is Kimble up to?
- He gets raided then murdered in the same week.
That can't be a coincidence.
- Right.
All I know is we got a shooter on the run.
Let me make a call to the Fugitive Task Force.
♪ ♪
- Whoever your killer is is scared and spinning out.
Their plan to kill the marshal this morning went sideways,
and they had to finish the job ad hoc.
- With the Fugitive Task Force, we find that most offenders
will trip themselves up eventually.
They leave a trail a mile wide, making it easy for us
to hunt them down, sniff them out.
We just have to be ready when they do.
- Thank you, Agent Chase,
for riding along with us on this one.
- Of course. Always happy to help, boss.
OK, so tell me about the perp. - Yeah, what do we know?
- I just got footage of the raid on Kimble's home.
[bang] - The hell's going on?
- Down on the ground now! - What the hell!
- OK. - Do it!
- What--what're you guys doing?
- Where's the boy?
- What boy? - Where is he?
- I don't know. [grunts]
- Did the report say who this boy is?
- No, just that Kimble was allegedly
sexually assaulting him at gunpoint.
The call was ruled a prank.
- Swatting is hardly a prank. At best, it's harassment.
At worst, second-degree murder, death by cop.
- Yeah, but it speaks to a level of premeditation.
Our perp has been planning this for weeks, maybe months.
- Hey, found the call.
- 911, what's your emergency?
- Hurry! He's armed!
I can hear the little boy screaming.
- Yeah, so--and not only was there no minor found
in Kimble's home, his service weapon was found
locked in a safe in his bedroom.
- Right, but that woman on the phone
definitely wanted the NYPD to believe otherwise.
- We do not know that it was a woman.
Spectral analysis confirms that voice was generated
using an AI program called Karaoke.
It masks the caller's real voice.
- OK, what about the number that made the call?
Can we track that? - Afraid not.
Caller used a VoIP number-- disposable internet burner.
Only exists during the time of the call.
- OK, so much for mile wide.
Our killer's good at covering their tracks.
- Right, but we need to keep digging
into these digital forensics.
And we're still scrubbing street cams around the hotel?
- Yeah. - Got something.
Someone used a credit card for that voice cover.
The Karaoke account that made that call
is tied to a Grant Warren.
- All right, eyes up, folks. Grant Warren.
33, married, father of one. Software engineer.
Doesn't really scream homicidal maniac.
- Can we connect him to our U.S. marshal?
- Yes, 20 years ago,
Warren was a student at an elite boarding school upstate.
Cornwall Military Academy.
Kimble was a drill instructor there.
- Didn't Scola go there?
- Yeah, he did.
- Where is Warren now?
[banging on door] - FBI, open up.
- Not funny, Otto--
oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were the kid down the hall.
- Is your husband home, Mrs. Warren?
- What do you want with Grant?
- Hey, Grant, we--
- That was him. - Hey!
- Grant, stop!
[suspenseful music]
- No, no, no, no, no, no, no!
All right, you're under arrest.
- Let's go.
- Grant? - Dad? Dad?
Where are they taking him? - I don't know, sweetie.
- Do you remember anything from your time at Cornwall
that could've motivated something like this?
- Well, Warren was class of '08.
I was ten years ahead of him.
- What about Kimble? Did you ever cross paths?
- No, I think he must've been a DI after I graduated.
- It's a long time to hold a grudge.
- I mean, look, were the drill instructors hard asses?
Sure they were, all right?
My parents sent me there to try and punish me,
but it ended up being some of the best years of my life.
Everybody loved Cornwall.
- So what set this guy off after all these years?
- I'm wondering the same thing myself.
[door buzzes and clicks]
All right, Grant.
Wanna tell us what you were trying to erase
when we picked you up?
Look, I've already got you making a false report to 911.
That's a criminal act.
And you sent a SWAT team to the house
of Marshal Brad Kimble.
But that wasn't enough, was it?
So?
- You went back, finished the job.
- Kimble's dead?
- Yeah, you don't exactly seem surprised.
- I didn't do this.
I swear. You could check my phone data chip.
Whatever. I..
I didn't kill anyone, but--
- But what?
- He got what he deserved.
- Oh, yeah? Why is that?
- What'd he do, Grant?
[soft dramatic music]
- Grant, I went to Cornwall.
Class of '98, all right?
Kimble was way after my time,
but I know what it's like.
The drill instructors are hard on you--
- You don't understand.
♪ ♪
I was their favorite.
♪ ♪
- Grant.
If something happened,
the FBI can help you.
But you need to talk to us.
And right now,
it's looking like you did this.
Help us understand.
♪ ♪
- After lights out,
Kimble would take me out of my dorm to a backroom.
He'd shove me down,
and then him and two other staff members--
they'd take turns.
♪ ♪
I was a kid.
- You tell anybody about it?
- Kimble said he'd kill my mom if I said anything.
♪ ♪
- OK, so this school never found out.
- No.
I started acting out over break.
My parents knew something was wrong.
[sighs]
I-I told them...at some point.
Not everything.
Just, you know,
enough.
I'm from a third generation Cornwall family.
My dad didn't believe me-- or couldn't.
And even if he had confronted the school,
Cornwall would've just protected its reputation.
- So there was never an investigation?
- No.
The world moved on, and so did I.
- Till you decided to send a SWAT team to Kimble's house.
So something changed.
What was it?
- A few months ago after a Mets game,
I saw him on the subway.
He was older, but it was him.
He looked me right in the eye.
And I could tell he had no idea who I was,
after everything he'd done to me.
It just...
dug up a pain I thought I'd buried.
And that was when we decided to get revenge.
- We? Who's we?
♪ ♪
- Grant, did Kimble hurt somebody else?
Another student?
Is that who killed him?
- I've got nothing more to say to you.
- Well, you said that there were two other staff members
present during the attacks.
Grant, we need to find them, OK?
I need some names here.
- I wanna talk to my lawyer now, please.
♪ ♪
- All right, so Grant Warren was a student
at Cornwall Academy 20 years ago.
According to him, he was sexually abused
by a ring of three Cornwall staff members.
Brad Kimble was one of the alleged abusers.
He is dead now.
Where are we with Warren's alibi?
- Checks out, he used his MetroCard at a subway station
in Midtown at 8:17 a.m., same time as the jury attack,
and security cameras got him too.
And he was badged in for work at the time of Kimble's murder.
- Mm, OK, but when Scola was talking to Warren,
he all but admitted he had a partner, another student--
someone who had also likely been abused.
So let's narrow that down.
We ever find out who he went to the Mets game with?
- 31,000 fans at Citi Field that night.
We're analyzing footage, but-- - That'll take two years.
What about the school? - Well, there's 300 students
that overlapped with Warren at Cornwall.
I'm combing through his phone records, socials,
looking for a connection-- nothing.
This would go faster if he gave up a name.
- Well, Warren has lawyered up. He is not talking.
So keep digging.
- Hey. - Hey.
- We lost Nina.
She got pulled into an apprehension in the Bronx.
I'll check in with her later. Where are we here?
- We're kinda hitting a brick wall.
- There was zero sexual assault charges filed
during the time Warren attended the academy.
- Well, Scola at Cornwall would likely be able
to put a lid on all of it.
But how do we find our next target?
Warren said there were two other staff members
who were abusing the boys.
- ERT found a yearbook at Warren's home.
There were 17 other staff members
at Cornwall during his years there.
- Yeah, great, great. Let's dig into these.
We need to figure out who they're gonna hit next.
- Yeah, their employee files could point us
to who we're looking for.
Problem is, they aren't public.
- Meaning they're still at Cornwall.
Good work. Let's get Scola there now.
[bell tolling]
- Always a pleasure to have one of our brightest
back on campus, Stuart.
Look how far you've come.
- Thank you, Colonel.
This place has a lot to do with that.
- Didn't make it easy on us--
angly kid with a smart-ass mouth to match.
I seem to remember a prank gone awry in the field house
involving a drill instructor's car--
that friend of yours, always tagging along.
- Well, teenage pranks have fallen by the wayside.
Still got the mouth though.
- So what brings you back to campus, Agent Scola?
I assume this isn't a social call.
- No, I'm afraid not.
So some former Cornwall instructors
came up in our investigation.
I'm afraid that
it involves claims
of sexual abuse by former staff.
- You're sure of this?
- This was all decades ago,
well before your time as director of the academy.
- Cornwall has upheld a reputation for excellence
for almost a hundred years
of turning boys into competent young men.
A stain on its reputation is a stain on us all.
- Agent Scola, these are serious allegations.
- And that's why I'm here.
I mean, you're the dean of the students.
Not one kid ever came forward?
- Of course not. If we had,
we would have approached the authorities.
- I am gonna need to take a look
at the faculty and staff files.
2004 to 2010.
- With the appropriate subpoena.
- Steven.
- There are legal ramifications at play.
The board of trustees-- - We're happy to help the FBI.
My aide will bring them down right away.
- Thanks, Colonel.
- We are late for a meeting, Steven.
[soft dramatic music]
♪ ♪
- All right, so where are we
with Cornwall's personnel record?
- Working through. Most are squeaky clean.
Take Colonel Lewis-- came to the academy after
an honorable discharge from the army,
started off as commandants of the Cadet Corps.
Stellar performance reviews.
The trustees eventually select him to head the school.
He's respected.
- OK, and any bad apples?
- I got one that raised the flag.
Hank Bouchard.
Joined Cornwall as a drill instructor in 2002.
- Ah, was during Marshal Kimble's era, yeah.
- Grant Warren was one of his students. Here's the thing.
Hank Bouchard abruptly left the academy in 2009--
middle of the semester,
no explanation in the employee file.
- OK, but how about his personal life?
Any explanation there? Changes? Did he move, get married?
- No--same wife, same address.
He took a job at another boys' school in Connecticut
that fall of '09-- was fired two years later
after claims of harassment.
- Hard-ass drill instructor harassment,
or are we talking euphemistically?
- I have a subpoena in the works
for that school's files for more intel.
- Hey, hey, Orange County SWAT responded to a false 911 call
six days ago at Bouchard's home,
same time frame as Kimble's swatting incident.
- All right, that matches our killer's pattern.
Was Grant Warren's credit card used to make that call?
- Yes. - Yeah? OK.
See if any other drill instructors have been swatted.
I'ma get OA and Scola over to Bouchard's.
He's our next target.
- So how was it?
Being back at your alma mater?
- You know, it's bittersweet, as always, you know.
My buddy who passed, David Murray,
we went to Cornwall together, so.
They actually have our 1998 varsity cross country
team picture up.
Yeah, it's four years ago he passed.
It's still tough.
- He was so young. - Yeah.
- If you don't mind me asking, how'd he go?
- That Bouchard?
- Let's roll.
Hank Bouchard. - FBI.
- Come on, you gotta be kidding me.
I've been swatted before.
Somebody call 911 and send you here again?
- No. Nobody called us, Mr. Bouchard.
Maybe they should have.
We need to talk.
- You got someplace private we can do that?
- Sure. Come on inside.
- Scola? - I'm good.
- Shots fired from inside the house.
[dramatic music]
- FBI! Drop your weapon!
Damn it! - Go!
♪ ♪
- Stop! Drop your weapon.
♪ ♪
[engine turns over, car starts]
[tires squeal, horn honks]
- Suspect's heading west on Hillside Road
in a blue Subaru.
- This just in:
our suspect broke into Hank Bouchard's home
in Floral Park, waited for him to return,
and then shot him before our agents had a chance
to secure Bouchard's safety.
This guy's on a killing spree,
and we know there's a third target.
- So let's get an ID on him and put a stop to this
before he does any more damage.
- Yeah, Leon, get local PD to put a BOLO out
on that blue Crosstrek.
Check traffic cams and tolls within a 10-mile radius
of Bouchard's. - State police just found
an empty vehicle matching that description
near downtown Cornwall.
- All right, get ERT down there to wipe for prints and DNA.
- We get anything from Bouchard's?
- ERT pulled lots of prints and DNA.
It'll take a while to process, but I got this.
That blue Crosstrek? It was found abandoned
in Cornwall's Commercial District.
- Meaning we can scrub security footage and ID our killer?
- Yup, and about a dozen folks passed by the nearest
security camera around the same timeframe
that the car was abandoned--
- Then you cross-referenced them
against the Cornwall graduates?
- Yep, and we found one. - OK, eyes up, folks.
- Meet Noah Thackery, 33.
Born and raised in Tuckahoe.
Graduate of Cornwall Academy, class of '09.
- Can we track his phone? - Negative. His cell is off.
He is flying dark. - Hey.
Cornwall's holding their annual fundraiser today
at Royce Hall. Thackery RSVP'd this morning.
- No, tell Cornwall to cancel that event.
OA and Scola are nearby.
Get them down there now.
Orange County Sheriff and SWAT need at least 20 minutes.
- You heard the SAC, people. Let's go.
- Fundraiser started 20 minutes ago.
Thackery has already killed four people today,
two of them being innocent bystanders.
What are we walking into?
- Well, it's a who's who of alumni and former staff,
right, 200 lubricated guests in cocktail attire,
all crammed into a lobby with limited exits.
- So basically the last place you'd want a shootout to happen.
[dramatic music]
[applause]
♪ ♪
- Colonel Lewis. - Agent Scola. You came.
- We have reason to believe that our suspect is here
targeting someone at this event.
- Hold on-- - So you need to
shut it down now.
- You confirmed he's onsite?
- We haven't spotted him yet, but sheriff's and SWAT
are 15 minutes out, so we need to start our search now.
- Meaning you don't actually know.
- Colonel, please, some of our biggest donors are here.
We do not want to shut this down or cry wolf.
Not now. - No, you're not listening.
These people are all in danger.
- All right, gentlemen, we'll alert our own security.
You're free to conduct a search,
but this event is too big to shut down based on a hunch.
If you'll excuse us.
- OK, I'll search upstairs. - And I got the crowd.
♪ ♪
- All right, people, Noah Thackery has an ax to grind
with someone at Cornwall's annual fundraiser,
and we need to know who. - Scanning his socials.
Nothing indicating a grudge against the school,
past or present. We'll keep looking.
- OK, we need eyes inside that event, please.
- Working on it. - Who's going in and out?
Do they belong there? Do any of them tie back to Noah?
- Patching into Cornwall's security cameras now.
- OK.
- I want IDs on everyone in attendance.
- Yeah, guests, staff-- I mean, ice sculptures.
If they have two eyes, a nose, and a mouth,
they go through facial rec, no exceptions.
♪ ♪
- Anybody got eyes on Thackery?
We know that he's here. Where's he hiding?
- Negative. Nothing yet.
Give me something, folks.
We have innocents in the line of fire.
- Still scanning.
♪ ♪
- I got someone matching Thackery's description.
He's got a duffel. Could be a weapon in there.
- Hey, where?
- Mezzanine level.
West side of the building.
♪ ♪
FBI. Hands up.
Put it down.
Don't move.
False alarm. Just a videographer.
- We're flying blind here, people.
I need eyes on him.
- Wait. Check this guy out. - What?
♪ ♪
Is it--
- Can we get facial rec?
- Got him.
- That's him. - Yeah, yeah.
All teams, Thackery's on the north side of the building,
first floor. Who's closest?
- Scola. - Scola, that's you.
♪ ♪
- I'm in this hallway. I got no sign of Thackery.
♪ ♪
[grunts]
[groans]
♪ ♪
- Scola. Hey, hey, hey.
- He went that way.
♪ ♪
- Jubal, we lost him.
- OK, but we know where he's headed.
His target has to be at the ceremony.
- Thank you all for coming on such an august occasion.
[applause]
- OK, if Thackery's gonna make his move,
he's gonna have to do it in front of all these people.
- Could be how he wants it.
- The stewardship of Cornwall Military Academy
and its cadets is not a responsibility
I take lightly.
And as we move into our 95th year,
our academy motto remains as relevant as ever.
Acta non verba.
Deeds, not words.
For it is the actions we take
that define who we are.
♪ ♪
- Gun!
[panicked screaming]
♪ ♪
- Move! Get down.
- Get down!
Everybody down!
- We got shots fired from the main staircase.
Get everybody out of here. - Yeah.
- This way.
♪ ♪
- Ah. - Down, down. Everybody down.
♪ ♪
Move!
- Go, go, go!
♪ ♪
- I'm on him. - Covering!
♪ ♪
- OA, SWAT's hustling to your location now.
♪ ♪
- [winces]
♪ ♪
- OK.
♪ ♪
[dramatic music]
♪ ♪
- It--it's you?
♪ ♪
He was coming for you?
♪ ♪
I-I'm-- I gotta move you.
You're too exposed out here.
Come on. Up. Let's go.
- Ah! - Easy.
OA, I got Lewis.
I'm moving him to a more secure location.
Come on.
[panicked chatter]
- This way. This way.
[dramatic music]
- Isobel.
So we ID'd the shooter as Noah Thackery.
- He went after this third target at the fundraiser.
OA and Scola are on the ground.
- Does anybody have eyes on Thackery, please?
- Lost him in the melee.
- Scanning. Still scanning.
- Let's go, people.
♪ ♪
- Ah! - Get in. Get in.
♪ ♪
Everybody go! Move! Out! Out now!
Colonel, no.
We gotta get you someplace more secure.
He'll pick you up out here. Go. Come on.
- There. There!
He's headed right for them.
♪ ♪
- Oh, my God.
OA, get to the kitchen on the ground floor.
- Copy that. On the way.
♪ ♪
- Scola, the shooter is in the kitchen.
I repeat, the shooter is in the kitchen.
Do you read me?
Scola, do you copy?
- Um, the building's stone walls must be blocking the signal.
Scola being in the basement isn't helping.
♪ ♪
- Oh, come on.
♪ ♪
[tense music]
♪ ♪
- OK, right here.
OK.
Right here. Sit, sit, sit.
OK.
Here, just keep it elevated. - Shoulder--
- OK?
♪ ♪
- Where is he?
♪ ♪
- OK.
You know, a, um--
a dear friend of mine that I graduated from Cornwall with--
I'm sure you remember him. I, uh--
David Murray.
♪ ♪
Oh.
That's funny.
'Cause you always called him
one of your favorites.
♪ ♪
He met a great gal, Julia,
summer after graduation.
And they, uh-- they got married.
Had a beautiful daughter.
And then one day,
just out of nowhere...
he shot himself.
♪ ♪
And I couldn't...
understand why.
♪ ♪
Is that what happens to your favorites, Colonel?
♪ ♪
I know you abused David Murray.
♪ ♪
- We gave you boys the instruction you needed.
- No, you took everything from him
and he never recovered.
You hear this.
I will do everything in my power to make sure
that you pay for what you did to every single one of them.
♪ ♪
- Jubal, there he is again.
♪ ♪
[broken radio transmission]
- Jubal, go again.
You broke up.
[garbled radio transmission]
Jubal, not sure if you can hear me.
We're in a pantry underneath the stairs off the kitchen.
I'm with the third target.
♪ ♪
- He's right outside your door, Scola.
- Come on. We gotta move.
♪ ♪
- Oh, no, no, no, no.
[gunfire]
♪ ♪
- That door's not gonna hold.
- Stay down.
[gunfire over video]
♪ ♪
- FBI. Drop the weapon, Noah.
Put it down. Now.
- No.
♪ ♪
That man in there's a monster.
He deserves everything that's coming to him.
- And we can figure that out after you put the gun down!
- Do you know what he did to me?
What he did to Grant?
What he did to the--
who knows
how many boys?
- Don't make me shoot you.
Please.
- You know, when we tried to take this to the police,
they told us that, uh,
the statute of limitations had passed.
Against a child rapist. - Listen to me.
You are a victim.
We can still put Lewis away on federal charges.
He will not walk, but you have to put the gun down now.
♪ ♪
Put it down!
Now!
On the wall! - OK.
♪ ♪
- You got anymore weapons on you?
- Mm-mm.
- Suspect's in custody.
- Great work. What about Scola?
♪ ♪
- Come on. - We're OK.
Coming out. - OK. OK.
♪ ♪
- Come on. Come on.
- How are you? You OK?
- I'm just a little banged up, is all.
- I'm just glad you're OK.
I will have a giant glass of scotch waiting for you
when you get home, OK?
- [chuckles] Thank you.
Yeah, I'm just gonna take a couple minutes
and get my head right.
- Yeah. Of course. Take your time.
I love you.
- Love you too.
- Hey. [phone beeps]
Just talked to Jubal.
Ever since the news of the colonel's arrest broke,
the tip lines have been flooded.
- Wow.
Other Cornwall students? - Yeah.
His list of alleged victims is growing,
dating back decades.
He's gonna pay for what he did.
- What about the academy?
- It'll pay too.
- This place is just such a huge part of who I am.
[soft dramatic music]
I'm grateful for that.
And I got lucky, OA.
Could've happened to any one of us.
- Like your friend.
- Yeah, never understood
why David did it.
♪ ♪
He was so loved.
And he had so much ahead of him.
♪ ♪
Just made me feel like
I never really knew him.
- You can't know what he didn't tell you.
- Yeah, just wanted him to know that he could've.
♪ ♪
And now I understand.
I miss him.
♪ ♪
[wolf howls] erstand.