the oversight committee would've roasted us for this one -- thank god it paid off. damn fine work.
classified information. no photographs.
you okay, jon? then go home. tell eve.
he's hooked up to a full-spectrum polygraph.
jon, i trust your instincts, i always have. but d.c. wants more evidence. and frankly, so do i.
we'll get a team right on it. but we can't evacuate the city on what amounts to a hunch.
the only ticking bomb i see is inside his head. he's getting worse, tito.
archer!
you made a deal with pollux troy? he's 'a manipulative psychopath.' your own words, jon!
the job i've been protecting for the last eight years. from now on, you go strictly by the book. everything gets cleared by me. understand?
we were friends once, jon, so i feel i owe it to you -- to tell you face-to-face.  i don't care how much hype you're getting -- you're through. after that massacre last night, i'm ordering a full inquiry into your recent erratic -- and deeply suspect -- behavior.
you start meeting with brodie and miller. then they die mysteriously. your best friend is murdered -- and you don't seem to give a shit. suddenly you're smoking, drinking, acting like a man with something to hide.  maybe you've been bought -- maybe you've lost your mind. but i promise.  i'm going to find out.
-- i don't understand.