GREGGS (Groaning)
COLE: Hey, now.
GREGGS (Laughing)
BUNK: We called earlier, they said you were up. Time we get here, you back asleep.
GREGGS: Been there long?
BUNK: Naw. 20 minutes. You know, we didn't want to exactly disturb you, you know.
GREGGS: I'm bored is all.
BUNK: Yeah, but still.
GREGGS: So, what you got for me? Spreads?
BUNK: Ah, yeah.
GREGGS: Little Man. For sure.
COLE: That's good. Are you able to write?
BUNK: Okay. Number Two.
GREGGS: I can make Little Man, 'cause he's in the front, trying to snatch the cash off the dashboard. But the other one, he's outside in the dark. So...
BUNK: You know, it's okay. It's okay. Ah, is there anyone here that you do recognize?
GREGGS: Sure, Wee-Bey.
BUNK: Alright. Let me tell you where we're from with the shooters. We tracked their escape route, and Landsman came up with their hoodies. Now, DNA matched human hair from one of the hoodies to Wee-Bey. Freamon, he tracked a call from the pay phone near the scene to Stringer Bell's pager. Now the caller was using Bey's beeper code. Crime lab, they lift a print off a soda can near that phone and that matches Little Man. You know, so, you know, I'm saying... Okay, hear me out. There's a downside here. We don't have the guns, no prints from the scene, no witnesses. But worse, we gonna be dealing with a Baltimore City jury, and a good man is hard to find in this town. 12 of 'em together especially. An I.D. of both your shooters will play a whole lot easier come trial.
GREGGS: Yeah. Sometimes things just gotta play hard.

(Police radio chatter)
HERC: Yeah, we got everyone on our list except C.C.O. Yeah, we hit his mama's house and she says that he went up to wabash for some court date, so you might wanna get on the computer and see if any of the sheriff's deputies can snatch him up in some courtroom. Yeah. No, no, no, we got Ronnie Mo. Yeah, I'm lookin' at him go in the jail van right now. (Shouting) Alright.
CARVER: Fished our limit. Let's go home.
HERC: Sir.
CARVER: Huh?
HERC: Let's go home, sir. You're looking at a soon-to-be-made sergeant, so, what I'm saying is, when we're around the troops, you gotta get used to showing the proper respect. So, let's go home, sir. Alright?
 

DANIELS: What's the count?
PREZ: So far we've picked up 12, leaves seven on the wing.
DANIELS: Anything worthwhile?
FREAMON: Some phone numbers that match, scraps of nicknames, not much else.
DANIELS: We need something now. They're gonna shut us down unless we come up with something fresh to run with right now.
FREAMON: The wires are dead. The bug on the club is useless. They were moving out of there even as we got up on them.
PREZ: To where?
FREAMON: No clue, but they're gonna have to set up again. Either Barksdale moves distribution or he gives up the towers.
McNULTY: If not Avon, then Stringer.
FREMAON: And why not Avon? With no priors, he's out two hours after the bail review. Shit, what we put on barksdale barely makes him break stride.
McNULTY: Okay, so, we get a hint of where they're setting back up, we ask the state's attorney for a new bug, maybe even a wire if we get onto a phone.
DANIELS: Not while the deputy breathes air. We'll be reassigned before you finish typing up your affidavit.
McNULTY: How about the feds?
DANIELS: You think the deputy's gonna let you take this mess federal?
McNULTY: Why does the deputy need to know?
(Phone ringing)
DANIELS: McNulty, you are a piece of work.
PREZ: McNulty.
McNULTY: Yeah?
PEARLMAN (over the phone): ... D'Angelo Barksdale.
McNULTY: No shit.
PEARLMAN: He's in custody in New Jersey...
McNULTY: No fucking shit. It's Rhonda Pearlman, she just got a call from an assistant public defender in North Jersey, who claims to represent a man by the name of D'Angelo Barksdale. Yeah, meet me in homicide, bring a tape recorder.
FREAMON: No drug lawyers? No Levy?
DANIELS: Case got some legs on her, don't she?
FREAMON: Don't she?

AVON: Shit, a quarter of a million dollars bail. You believe that shit?
STRINGER: Right, it hurts to even show that kinda money.
AVON: Yeah. Where Levy at, he's ain't at the club, is he?
STRINGER: Oh, hell, no, club's out. We can't talk there no more. C'mon, man, let get out of here.
AVON: What's up, baby?
 

AVON: So, this is it, huh?
LEVY: Look, before you go anyplace else, before you talk anyplace else, we gotta think this through. We're up to almost 20 arrests at last count. And if you look at the probable cause, they all read just like yours, information from a confidential source.
STRINGER: Don't this seem way too much?
LEVY: Well, I agree. My gut tells me a wire. Either on a phone or two, or maybe something in a room somewhere. You talk to your nephew on the phone about the Jersey thing?
AVON: Naw, 'course not, man, no phones. When I talk to him, I talk to him face-to-face, in my office, in the back of the club. Fuck.
LEVY: It's good you moved out of there.
STRINGER: I don't know, man. I mean, if they got a mike up in there, they got you and me sayin' all kind of shit, man.
LEVY: Oh, that reminds me. He said he'd be in tonight.
STRINGER: Thing is, they take you and leave me?
AVON: Yeah, that's what's fuckin' me up, too, man.
LEVY: Look, we'll know soon enough, as soon as I start pressing for discovery. In the meantime, what do you wanna do about the people they locked up?
STRINGER: We gotta pull 'em.
AVON: That's showing lot of money.
STRINGER: Well, if we don't, we run the risk of makin' them enemies.
LEVY: Speaking of which, where are you with your nephew? Is he gonna see the light or what?
AVON: Let me tell you something, man. He family, a-ight? He not gonna buck. A day or two in a New Jersey bullpen, he gonna be cryin', waitin' for bail money, like the rest of 'em.
LEVY: Alright. So, let's run the money through the families, that'll hide it some. And don't use the same bondsman.
STRINGER: Alright.
LEVY: Well, look, gentlemen, I know it's early, but I want you to start thinking about who was charged and what kind of time they can do. One of the ways to limit your exposure is what's called a structured plea. That means that you're gonna have to deliver your people, all of them, down to a man.
 

BUNK: I saw your girl today. For the idents.
McNULTY: How's she doin'?
BUNK: Okay, I guess. She's out of the I.C.U. Movin' slow, but movin', you know?
(Phone ringing)
BUNK: Jimmy, you ain't been to see her?
McNULTY: Naw, I couldn't go in.
BUNK: This ain't about you, right?
McNULTY: I get back from Jersey, I will. I will.
BUNK: You know, Cole and me, we showed her the spreads. Picked out little man, no problem. Wouldn't go for Wee-Bey, so, I tried the fat finger. Damn near down on my knees, begging her to make this play easier in court. You know what she said? "Sometimes things gotta play hard."
McNULTY: Real police.
BUNK: Oh, yeah. What the fuck did you do to her?
McNULTY: I don't know
BUNK: You two in the same car gonna make for a long-ass drive to Jersey. Shit.
 

MALE #1: Is this mahogany?
MALE #2 : This is a mahogany front, sir.
AVON: Damn, man, it's just, it's too still in here.
(Children) C'mere ! Go here. Slow down some.
AVON: You know what? We can-- this place'll fine. All we really gotta do, man, is put a little safe in here someplace and let 'em know the count comes here from now on. Period.
BRIANNA: Damn, boy, when y'all change up, y'all--
STRINGER: Shh.
 

BRIANNA: Y'all that paranoid? You ain't even been up in there before.
AVON: I'm tellin' you, sis, this shit is different. We are not gonna talk about nothing indoors. It's a new day. Thing is, man, we gotta get back on our feet. You know what i'm talking about? I mean, the longer we hold off, the harder it's gonna be for us to maintain them towers.
BRIANNA: You want to get it back up, you lean to me and String here.
AVON: Naw, I ain't down yet.
BRIANNA: Naw, you need to step back.
STRINGER: She's right, bro. You can't take a second chance here, you know what I'm saying? Until you fixed, sis gonna handle that money, I'm gonna handle that products. We here for you.
AVON: A-ight. But you tell Roberto, he gotta make it a serious smoker. I mean, I want them motherfuckin' fiends in the projects, I want them droppin' you feel me? You send out the word, you let 'em know we ain't dead yet. What about my nephew?
BRIANNA: Don't fret. Give me a chance to get with Roberto, then I'll get up to Dee, do what needs doing.
AVON: Tell him, I'm sorry for puttin' him out there like that. And that I'm gonna make it up to him.
BRIANNA: You gonna make it up. Most def.

A.P.D.: But again, I want to make it clear that all of this cooperation is contingent on a commitment that my client finds acceptable. Failing that, everything said in here, stays in here.
DEE: Damn straight.
PEARLMAN: I'm sure a proffer in Maryland plays much the same in Jersey, counselor. And I do agree that with regard to matters involving drug trafficking, your client has been helpful. He's indicated a willingness to testify that he was a lieutenant in Avon Barksdale's distribution organization, sold large quantities of drugs for his uncle, delivered money, attended organizational meetings, and on one occasion, made a trip to New York on the behest of his uncle. All of which corroborates much of what we already know.
DEE: Well, what else is there?
McNULTY: The murders. Man, why you keep on that, huh? I already told you, I don't know nothin' about that witness bein' killed.
DEE: Which witness?
McNULTY: Remember her?
DEE: Jesus. They did her?
McNULTY: Yeah, about the same time they did the boy.
BUNK: All them bodies.
DEE: They coverin' up, man.
BUNK: Yeah, that's what we think. No loose ends.
McNULTY: I can understand the guard. She got paid, so, she had to go. Orlando, he knew too much, got to snitchin', so, he had to go. But then there's the kid... Wallace.
(Male on tape recorder) but I need to go past tonight. Check in with Wallace.
(Female) Wallace?
(Male) He off the hook since we helped the tower crew get that stick-up boy. I'm tellin' you, man, Wallace is buggin'. Don't hardly even come out of that room no more.
(Female) Now, why he be like that?
(Male) I'm thinkin' he might be gettin' high.
(Female) Wallace?
(Male) The boy's scarin' me with his shit.
(Female) Alright, holler at me later.
(Male) That'll work. (Dial tone)
DEE: You got that shit on tape?
McNULTY: Mm-hmm.
A.P.D.: God!
BUNK: His name is Brandon Wright.
McNULTY: Burnt him, broke fingers, gouged an eye out. All kinds of fun.
DEE: Wallace was the one who saw. He saw the boy. But he really ain't think about what they'd do.
McNULTY: You must have known. You were standing there by that pay phone. You knew.
DEE: What was I gonna do, huh? I don't call String, the word get back uptown, what's gonna happen then?
BUNK: So, you told Wallace to wait, then you called Stringer, and Stringer, he gathered the troops.
DEE: Yeah.
McNULTY: And down at the Greek's, they got Wallace to point the finger, right? And then they went in like cops with handcuffs, so they could take their time on Brandon.
DEE: They dropped the body where we'd see it. "Send a message to the 'jects", they said. Wallace... He couldn't handle that. After seeing that, he wanted to get out. Go back to school. We even joked about it, him being 16 and all, needin' to go start back over again as a freshman. And about a week ago, my uncle and String, they call me down to the club. Stringer, he's all worried about Wallace, and I told him. I said, "Wallace ain't no snitch." Plus, he's out the fucking game. I told him that. But I needed to do more. I should've done more, but I didn't, and... Fuck, that's on me.
BUNK: Any idea who they sent at Wallace? C'mon, Dee, wild guess.
DEE: Man, I don't know, could've been anybody. You know, shooters come cheap.
BUNK: I don't think so. Not in the pit. Not in his crib. I counted seven beds there. Where were the younguns?
DEE: Look, if I knew, I would tell you. A-ight, I swear to God, I would tell you.
McNULTY: They've been charged with Orlando and the undercover cop, but we're still hunting.
DEE: Him, he in Philly.
McNULTY: How you know?
DEE: I know 'cause I dropped him there.
BUNK: Where?
DEE: I don't know, some corner, man. Northend, I don't know where he be stayin'.
BUNK: Did Wee-Bey say anything to you about the shootings?
DEE: We don't talk shop in a car. It's a rule we got. So, is that it?
PEARLMAN: Your client must realize that any agreement is dependent on his full cooperation.
DEE: Well, yo, there ain't nothin' else. Deidre. Tap, tap, tap. She was one of my uncle's girls.
McNULTY: Yeah, but we got people who put you with her the night she's killed.
DEE: Yeah, I didn't know what he was gonna do her. I swear. They played me.
BUNK: How so?
DEE: My uncle gave me an eight ball of coke. Told me to take it over there to her. I was surprised, 'cause, you know, I thought he dumped her. But he said, naw, it wasn't like that no more. So, he had Wee-Bey take me over there. You know, I walked up, knocked on the door, she came to the door, all naked and shit, with this little-ass robe on.
BUNK: So, she's your uncle's girl, but she comes to the door for you naked?
DEE: She used to do that shit with me all the time, man. Teasin'. You know how girls do. Maybe you don't. I don't know. Anyway, I'm like, "Ain't you gonna let me come in?" She's like, "Naw," because she gotta get ready for my uncle to come by later. So, I give her the coke. She laughs about how she's gonna put that shit on ice for later on.
BUNK: Refrigerator.
McNULTY: Uh-huh.
DEE: I don't know shit about no refrigerator. Like I said, I ain't go in. So, I turned around, started walkin' back to the truck, and I heard this shot. Wee-Bey, he come runnin' back with this big-ass 45 he like to use so much. Tells me how he was tappin' on the window, real soft. How with the lights on, she had to walk all the way up, 'cause she couldn't see what was on the outside. And when she gets up to the window and looks out...
McNULTY: You did good, D'Angelo.
BUNK: Yeah, you did.
DEE: Y'all don't understand, man. Y'all don't get it. You grow up in this shit. My grandfather was Butch Stamford. You know who Butch Stamford was in this town?
McNULTY: Mm-hmm.
DEE: All my people, man, my father, my uncles, cousins. It's just what we do. You just live with this shit, until you can't breathe no more. I swear to God, I was courtside for eight months, and I was freer in jail than I was at home.
PEARLMAN: What are you looking for?
DEE: I want it to go away.
PEARLMAN: I can't...
DEE: I want what Wallace wanted. I want to start over. That's what I want. I don't care where. Anywhere. I don't give a fuck. I just want to go somewhere, where I can breathe like regular folk. You give me that... And I'll give you them.
 

DANIELS: No, that's great. Really great. Yeah. That's our move. Mm-hmm. Okay. We broke it open tonight. Wide open. I'm bringing this case in big.
MARLA: So, this squares things with Burrell, right?
DANIELS: To hell with the man. But I think we might have enough to reach out to the feds, try to run this thing through them.
MARLA: Cedric.
DANIELS: He knows about the money, Marla. He's known for a long while. Fact is, I wouldn't be surprised if it's why he picked me for this case.
MARLA: Well, what does he-- What are you gonna--
DANIELS: He's got me if he wants me. Thing is, I don't think he wants me. Too much stink, too much mess. Kinda like this case.
 

PEARLMAN: I have to admit it, Jimmy, this is a great case. I mean, not just because of Greggs, because it goes to that and answers that, but because, because of how deep it goes. I mean, the murders, the money-- Jesus, I feel like I've been drunk ever since that kid starting talking to us.
McNULTY: You okay to drive? I can drop you home, and you can pick up your car tomorrow.
PEARLMAN: No, I'm good. I'm great, this was fucking great! You want to try to go federal with this? I am up for it. I get cross-designated as an A.U.S.A. And we can really run with it, you know? Career fucking case. Anyway...
McNULTY: Ronnie... The thing at, um... Levy's the other day, I was, ah... I was-- Jesus, Ronnie, not here. What are you doing?
PEARLMAN: Like you never did it in the headquarters garage before? (Laughing)
(Tires screeching)
 

BROWN: Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Look what just walked in without a fucking escort.
FREAMON: Downtown Roy Brown. The living legend in his own mind.
BROWN: Uptown Lester Freamon. Fuck me, how long's it been?
FREAMON: Your retirement party, wasn't it? And this is retirement, huh?
BROWN: Yeah. Nice fuckin' digs, huh? Ask my supervisor when I'll see a little sunlight. Runt cocksucker says, "When your unit turns a profit." But enough of my joy, what do you guys need?
FREAMON: We need a trap and trace. But not in Maryland.
BUNK: Pennsylvania, Philly.
BUNK: You gotta go through them.
FREAMON: No, we try that, we lose a week, them tellin' us it can't be done, then another week for their attorneys to okay our subpoena.
BUNK: Plus, it's a little more complicated than just a straight-up trace. We actually need a list of phones in Philly that called this number in the past week.
BROWN: Well, what's the number?
FREAMON: Drug lawyer, downtown office.
BUNK: Thought billing be the place to look.
BROWN: Well, if we could do it, and I'm not sayin' we can, it's gonna be a fuckin' week, maybe two.
FREAMON: Thanks, Roy.
BROWN: Hey, Lester, isn't this supposed to be the time you tell me how all-fired fuckin' important this is?
FREAMON: The Philly number gives us the mope who shot that female undercover.
 

McNULTY: I'm tellin' you, Fitz, it's the perfect case. You'll love it.
FITZ: Well, it sounds great. But like I said, Jimmy, we're not fishing for drug cases anymore. Try D.E.A.
McNULTY: No, that field office is too close to our C.I.D. We go there, our bosses know it before a meeting is scheduled.
FITZ: Your bosses don't know you're doing this? Who'll be coming?
McNULTY: Me, a detective name of Freamon and Daniels. I can speak for Daniels, brother. He's played this thing out with real heart. C'mon, set something up.
FITZ: Alright.
 

(Door opening)
CUSTOMER: Could I get 10 copies?
STRINGER: 10 copies?
CUSTOMER: 10, right.
STRINGER: No problems?
CUSTOMER: Naw.
STRINGER: Money? Alright, man, I'll get at you. Yo, you locked that door, right? Yeah? Alright, so, listen. It's not street-ready, alright? So, everybody gotta work on their own cut and vial up. Now, listen to me, tell 'em to get this straight. Three parts of this, alright? To one of raw, alright? And that's how we gonna do until we get the new stash. And I want you to put the word out there that we back up. Understand me? We back up.
 

F.B.I. Detective: It's a good target. You guys have a pretty good case here.
McNULTY: Look at the violence alone. It's at least a dozen murders, including state's witnesses. If you can help us squeeze the Barksdale kid into a witness protection program, we can run wild with this thing.
F.B.I. Detective: No suppliers though.
DANIELS: We're still looking for a way into that. There was nothing on the wire that took us toward New York.
FITZ: The trouble is, we have these post 9-1-1 protocols. We can't pick up any new narcotics work unless it goes to priority organized-crime targets.
F.B.I. Detective: Meaning Cosa Nostra or Colombians. Or Russians maybe.
McNULTY: Well, we don't have any Colombians in Baltimore.
FREAMON: Yeah, we don't have any wiseguys. All we got is a whole lot of locals a little busy tearing the Westside apart.
F.B.I. Detective: I hear you, but the bureau-wide protocol applies. To run with you on this, we need a recognized O.C. target, or even better, a connect to counterterrorism or corruption.
FRITZ: You go near stuff like that, we have something we can bring to our A.S.A.C.
DANIELS: What kind of corruption?
F.B.I. Detective: Don't know, what kind you got?

 

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