Burn Notice2007

Madeline Westen:
Are you home, Michael? There are two FBI agents here to see you. They say they're your friends.

Michael Westen:
[walks into the house] Hi, "friends."

[ "Lane and Harris" / "Not Michael's Friends" ]

Agent Lane:
Hey, Westen, uh, sorry to drop in like this but...

Agent Harris:
We, uh, need your help with something, off the books?

Michael Westen:
Last time I asked for *your* help, you both laughed in my face.

Agent Harris:
Hey, hear us out, will you? A guy like you might need a favor from the FBI someday.

Michael Westen:
[pause] I'm listening.

Agent Lane:
[opens a file] You're looking at James Bailey. He rus a non-profit for marine preservation and he's a blood donor, supports public radio...

Michael Westen:
I get it. He's a good guy.

Agent Harris:
A really good guy. And he's wanted dead by a Turkish syndicate. He witnessed a murder they pulled and he's taking the stand next week.

Agent Lane:
Harris and I were prepping his testimony with him.

Michael Westen:
I'm guessing we're coming up to the part where you got shot in the arm?

Agent Lane:
Hitter for the Turks found the safehouse we were working in right before the storm hit, opened up on us with a modified Seiga-12K. Bailey took off like a bat out of hell. We don't know where he is.

Michael Westen:
Let's back up. You got ambushed by someone carrying a fully automatic shotgun and all you ended up with is a scratch on your arm?

Agent Lane:
Maybe the guys thought dropping two Feds was a dumb thing to do. Maybe he's a hitman with a heart of gold. You're missing the point.

Michael Westen:
Then stop bleeding all over my Mom's table and get to it.

Agent Harris:
Look, these Turks, they're into drugs, human smuggling, murder, you name it.

Agent Lane:
Bailey's testimony can cut the head off their organization and they know it. They want him dead.

Agent Harris:
The guy's spooked. He's in the wind and he's gonna try to stay that way. Now, we'd find him ourselves, but we're due back at HQ. We're looking at suspension, or worse.

Michael Westen:
How would you find him if you weren't busy getting suspended?

Agent Lane:
Lady pulling her patio furniture in saw Bailey steal a black Toyota pickup a few miles from the safehouse. That's the license plate number. Only lead we've got.

Michael Westen:
What about the gun? A black pickup isn't as rare as a modified Saiga-12K. You wanna find Bailey, you find the guy trying to kill him. Tracking the gun might put us on his trail...

Agent Harris:
Did... you say "us"?

Michael Westen:
I'll look into the gun, see if I can point you towards the hitter. And you *will* owe me. [ "Lane and Harris" / "The Clients" ]