Full Circle (2013) s03e03 Episode Script

1 D'Andres: [Exhaling sharply.]
[Birds chirping in distance.]
I, Richard D'Andres, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that I will bear truth, faith, and allegiance to the same, that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion, and I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter, so help me God.
[Gun cocks.]
So who called 911? That call was made by whoever's trying to frame you, sir.
And my guess is they're still here, inside the hotel, watching our every move.
I am extremely sorry and ashamed that we didn't prevent Ms.
Mancarlo from entering your suite.
You should be.
That's a pretty scary screw-up.
And if this gets out if my candidacy is threatened It will be my sword that I fall on for you, sir.
You're a good man.
[Sighs.]
[Gulls crying.]
You Damon Houserman? I'm guessing by how long it's taking you to answer, that's a yes.
Special Agent Waverly, FBI.
Yes, I'm Damon Houserman, Faulkner campaign manager.
How can I help you, Agent Waverly? You know.
- Pardon me? - You know why I'm here.
For a Bloody Mary and an egg sandwich? [Scoffs.]
[Sighs.]
How about for a front-running Presidential candidate who's receiving matching federal campaign funds and who might be using those funds to finance a cover-up? - To cover up what? - You tell me.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Five years and $250,000, Mr.
Houserman.
I know the penalty for lying to a federal agent.
Under oath or in casual conversation, you're fucked if I find out you're lying to me.
You haven't asked me a question yet.
Was Senator Faulkner involved in a sexual assault? You hungry? Answer the question.
They do an amazing eggs Benedict with salmon and french-fried onions.
You should jack a Lipitor and try it.
It's You're not going to answer me? - No.
- [Sighs.]
Why not? I don't like your tie.
I have a meeting.
That's his seat.
[Chair slides.]
[Indistinct conversations.]
Mr.
Houserman? Yeah.
Have a seat.
No, thank you, sir.
Georgia, Texas, Tennessee, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida.
Super Tuesday, March 1st.
Coming up fast.
That's correct.
So we have a chance to sweep all seven states and lock up the nomination.
We won't even fucking have to go to fucking Ohio.
Great news.
My team and I are planning the car and plane routes for the Senator's final campaign swing through those Super Seven states.
I'm busy.
Fucking turn your back on me? Sir, I am a Treasury Department agent in the employ of the United States Secret Service.
While I am on the clock, which is 24/7, you will respect the badge that I wear and the service I provide.
If you are unable to comply I will gladly clock out and meet you privately in the alley of your choice.
Wow.
Should I pack a lunch? You won't make it to lunch.
Those are big words coming from a man with a career circling the drain.
I just spent the last hour dodging questions from the FBI.
What's the FBI doing here? Exactly.
There haven't been any more press leaks.
Yeah, well, we're taking on water.
What's the name of the agent they sent? Some miserable, ill-tempered fuck named Waverly.
You just missed him.
He's probably out in the lobby sweating all over the lobby furniture.
Not from the Miami office? No.
D.
C.
And since the outgoing President appointed his boss, I'm sure his boss sent him down here to derail us before Faulkner gets elected and fires him.
All right.
I'll look into it.
Rick? It's time for our "Come to Jesus" talk.
What happened? I don't know.
Given the litany of Secret Service fuck-ups over the past few years, that answer won't do.
My team was on duty.
The floor was secure for the night.
How did she get into his room? She had a key.
Who gave it to her? At first, I assumed the Senator.
Why? Because he knows her.
He's been with her before.
Did you ask him about this? Yes.
What'd he say? What do you expect that he said? [Slams hand on table.]
Why hasn't he fired you yet? She could've had a weapon.
She could've let an assassin in.
We could be standing in Arlington right now.
That's a lot of blood for one tenured Secret Service agent to be mopping up.
Have you ever served your country? Hey, flag-waver, I serve it every time I participate in the Democratic process, every time I vote and every time I get a candidate elected.
That's not service.
That's exploiting the freedoms that others have provided for you.
That include you? Yes.
You a vet? Army Rangers, five years.
And even if you're too selfish or ignorant to appreciate my service and sacrifice, it was my honor and my duty to serve.
You did it for me.
- You an American citizen? - I am.
Then, yes.
Hmm.
You got quite the martyr-messianic complex going there, huh? What do you mean? Messiahs lead without being asked, and martyrs prefer witnesses to their sacrifice.
You served your country without being drafted, and you are making damn sure that I see you fall on your sword.
You don't get it.
Try me.
You know, I could explain it, but you wouldn't understand.
You're a Rubik's Cube of fucking bullshit, you know that? The Senator did not arrange to have her here.
What makes you say that? Part of my training, part of my job, is to hear the truth through the static.
- You a human lie detector? - Yes.
What do you think of me? I think you're a cynical, political whore, and you make me sick to look at.
How do you really feel? Okay, if he didn't let her in, then who did? Whoever sent the pictures.
How do you get a card key to a room on a secured floor? How do you present evidence of WMDs that don't exist in Iraq in front of the United Nations? Are you mocking me? I guess anything's possible, right? Yes, and to our detriment.
[Sighs.]
There's one more thing.
Yeah? [Sighs.]
There's a partial print on one of those photographs.
God damn it! I thought we decided not to send those photos to the lab because of it leaking.
I didn't.
I saw it through a jeweler's loop.
Now, if this escalates into blackmail, it is a federal crime that is out of my hands.
I will have to turn it over to the Bureau.
Then we'd be dead.
Senator.
Senator? Angela: [Sobbing.]
- You need to get up.
- What? What happened? Where are we? We gotta we gotta get you out of here.
- What? Huh? - Come on.
Get up! - What the fuck happened? - Get up.
- Get up.
Let's go.
- Wha? Huh? [Sobbing continues.]
12:15 a.
m.
on the tapes, Angela Mancarlo exits the elevator, looks both ways, presumably to make sure no one sees her, she crosses to the center to his suite, already has the key, lets herself into the room.
She meet our spook in the lobby? No.
She runs a party-planning business Thank you.
She runs a party-planning business out of the hotel.
- She keeps a suite here.
- Mm-hmm? She was probably already in the building.
But no one saw her? I guess whoever gave her that card key, and that happened off-site.
How can you be sure? We swap the Senator's card key every six hours in case it were ever pirated.
This was sophisticated.
Very.
So, nothing's changed.
I don't follow.
Michaela and Tariq Salahi crash a White House dinner.
Two security checkpoints they make it through.
Whores in Cartagena.
A bullet left by an agent in a woman's room at the Hay-Adams.
That's not what happened.
Armed and convicted felon on the same elevator as POTUS in Atlanta.
Omar Gonzalez hops the north fence, makes his way to the east room of the White House with a fucking knife.
Punctuated by a drugged-out call girl making it past six Secret Service agents and into the private suite of the next President of the United States.
I'll let go of the fact that you guys rerouted Kennedy's Dallas motorcade down Main Street instead of Elm, slowing the limo to 5 miles per hour, passing directly in front of the grassy knoll.
I mean, fuck! You guys are way past your freshness date.
What's your point? I can't wait for this to get out before reacting.
I have composed an open letter to the Washington Post detailing everything that happened, and how the Secret Service, yet again, put a national leader's life at risk.
It's in my outbox, waiting for me to hit send.
Why would you do that? It's better to ask forgiveness than permission.
Come on.
It would bury his candidacy.
No.
Harm it not bury it.
If we seem like we're so honest, forthcoming, transparent even at the risk of embarrassment, we raise the moral bar and cannot be touched.
The Secret Service will be to blame.
I cite you in the letter by name and badge number.
You're blackmailing me.
No, no Yeah.
Incentivising you.
[Scoffs.]
Listen to me you find this bitch, you corral her, and bury her until November 9th, and then I don't give a shit.
And your career remains intact.
Oh, and when you see Waverly, maybe don't mention that Angela Mancarlo keeps a suite in the hotel.
[Cellphone rings.]
Hello? Man: Angela Mancarlo? Yes.
Hello? [Cellphone beeps.]
[Cellphone beeps.]
Senator Dellahunt, it's Sturgis.
I've found her, sir.
Faulkner's candidacy is over.
Davis: Mail from home? Yeah.
Anything interesting? Just bills and cheap gym memberships.
Charlotte flies down this weekend.
Good, it'll be great to see her.
Mm.
You know, I I don't want to drag her to Austin and Tuscaloosa, okay? Sure.
Davis Davis, no.
You're beautiful, Madeline.
What am I supposed to do? Get a grip.
I can't when it comes to you.
Well, forgiving you doesn't mean the status status quo.
I love you.
You would say anything right now.
I would.
[Sighs.]
Davis Davis, I just, I I just I fe [sighs.]
I don't have any confidence in this right now.
In what? In having sex with you.
Why not? [Sighs.]
'Cause I it [sighs.]
I feel like I feel like I can't compare.
I feel like I just keep thinking about how young and beautiful all the others have been and that you chose them over me.
And what you saw in them and I just I lack the emotional agility.
It makes me feel awful and insecure.
I just I can't.
[Sighs.]
Hey.
You are beautiful.
[Sighs.]
You always have been.
[Knocks on door.]
Come in.
Oh.
Leave it there, thanks.
[Door closes.]
What is all of that? Happy anniversary.
[Chuckles.]
Davis you've forgotten so many times, I took your lead.
I'm a trying Madeline, I'm I'm trying.
- Thank you.
- [Sighs.]
We're a great agency that serves a life and death service to this country.
Stop it some more.
No, no, I'm curious.
Would you take a bullet to defend an ideal? To protect the greater good? [Sighs.]
- No.
- No.
Because your only greater good is to yourself.
Yep, that's right.
Yeah.
Those lapses you mentioned, they were grave, yes.
But they also hardened the resolve of the Agency to be better.
To do better, to protect this country, its Constitution, and its leaders.
And we do that.
I should be recording this.
These lapses came from within the campaign.
Prove it, or I'll send you down in flames choking on that fucking badge you love so much.
Oh, I could open an investigation, I could do that, but then that would draw eyes, it would get out.
And I'm not up for whatever dirty tricks you might try to force on me.
You think someone breaking bread with us fucked us.
Yes.
Someone with an agenda to scuttle this campaign.
Yes.
What about Dellahunt and his Orks? Why not them? That's always on the table, but with the card key, the prior knowledge of the affair, and the 911 call, I think this is rotting from the inside out.
And what about you? What about me? You've had more intimate contact with the senator than his wife.
You probably watch him in the shower.
Or at least I'd bet you'd like to.
You know what? I offered to mop the floor with you once before, when you disrespected me.
That offer still stands.
You see? [Clicks tongue.]
That's what I'm talking about Rick.
You leak red, white, and blue through your pores.
- It must piss you off - Yeah.
to see a man who presents piety, morality, pure character, a man you'd die for, fail as miserably as he has done.
Our loyalty is to the office, not to the man.
Well, he holds no office.
He's a United States Senator.
You're a hypocritical moralist.
Must drive you mad, the shit you see.
What drives me crazy is the contempt and low measure with which you hold the American people.
Yeah, what the people don't know keeps them voting.
You're wasting your life and your time.
- I can see why you'd be defensive.
- Right.
[Glass shatters.]
My father was drafted the day I was born.
He spent 500 days in Vietnam, and then he died.
I never once held his hand.
But I have started a lot of fights with a lot of people who tried to tell me my dad died for nothing.
My father and the 51,000 others did not die in vain.
They died for me and they died for you.
And that is why I chose the Secret Service To protect the ideals and the people who govern this country, the country my father died for.
[Sighs.]
I'll accept your apology now.
- Fuck it.
- [Static.]
Copy.
[Cellphone rings.]
A route to the Austin Trade Mart is clear.
There'll be four Town Cars waiting for us when we land.
The Little Rock office is sending agents to sweep the convention hall.
He wants to takes his daughter fishing this weekend.
Where? Islamorada down on Tea Table Key.
The Bonefish are running.
- [Cellphone rings.]
- All right, I'll work it out.
[Cellphone beeps.]
Ma'am.
Damon, I just got ambushed by an FBI agent in the lobby.
What the fuck is going on? I know, I know.
He got in my grill this morning, as well.
W why didn't you tell me? He scared the shit out of me.
Why's he here? My guess Dellahunt.
He voted for the director's appointment six years ago.
That buys you a lot of reach-arounds.
Well, he made it perfectly clear he was here to ruin my husband.
We have nothing to say on any fictitious matters.
Madeline we have nothing to say on any fictitious matters.
I got it.
[Cellphone beep.]
Oh, God.
You have to deal with Waverly and the federal treasure hunt that's gearing up.
- That was Mrs.
Faulkner? - Yeah.
That federal fucking troglodyte approached her in the lobby just now.
He's on my agenda.
Yeah, we have to hurry.
I can't have the senator bumping into him.
We'll take the service entrance, per usual.
We're through the looking glass in this, Rick.
Never understood that metaphor.
Me either.
I think it just means we're fucked.
Does that really help? Ohh! You've no idea.
I've never been a drinker.
I can help you out with that.
Old pal of mine once said, "Drink every day or not at all.
" You know, we're forgetting the obvious solution here.
[Sighs.]
What's that? That the senator's guilty.
That he did, in fact, call her for sex and drugs, got riled up, smacked her around, and passed out.
Occam's Razor.
The competing hypothesis with the fewest assumptions is the one that should be chosen.
Fucking Franciscans.
You know your theologians.
Hey, I'm a renaissance Texas Jew.
We're taught to steer clear of theology.
[Chuckling.]
And prior, Occam's conclusion over simplifies the complex.
So what do you believe? Faulkner's guilt or innocence is both relative and irrelevant.
You are a true Machiavellian.
A renaissance alcoholic, that's all.
[Chuckles.]
We should get going.
Yeah.
Get the senator from his room.
I'll meet you downstairs in the kitchen.
Hey, you gonna deal with Waverly, right? Yes, sir.
You're right.
About what? Let's make sure your father didn't die for nothing.
Thank you.