Power

Previously on Power...

Rashad Tate, councilman in Queens.

James St. Patrick, from Queens.

Come on. Come here!

What kind of man would murder over a business dispute?

- You ain't got no idea who the fuck I am. - I think I do.

I'm letting you go.

I get to decide who represents me

- on a community level... - Wait a minute...

And that person is Andre.

My advice is that you distance yourself from Andre.

If you don't, you won't win the election.

Both of our careers are on the line.

- Rashad... - Listen, I know how this goes!

Rashad, listen to me. Everything's under control.

Ladies and gentlemen, Governor Tate for New York State.

Team Tate, I spoke with the DNC chairman,

and he's sending an additional support package our way.

You need a win, and you'll need my people to do it.

How could you be so reckless?

And you pick a married woman who works for you.

You think that I want to go public.

That's not what I want at all.

You want to run next year. You want the DNC to back you.

You and me, we can go all the way to the state house.

Your idea presumes

that I don't already have feelings for somebody else.

There is no Queens Child Project.

It's over, James.

You fuck me, I return the favor.

Lorette Walsh is planning to announce James St. Patrick

as her running mate to be the next lieutenant governor of New York.

Local entrepreneur James St. Patrick

will soon be announced

as Tate rival Lorette Walsh's running mate.

The QCP. Uh, ladies, it seems as though I've lost the site.

If you can't make that happen, James,

I may have to drop you from the ticket.

If we can't move forward with James,

I'll need to consider my other options.

Rashad Tate is at the top of that list.

She wouldn't go back to Rashad Tate.

She could make it work.

You now have a friend in Albany.

No, that has nothing to do with my decision to help you.

- You are? - Steven Ott.

James St. Patrick is property of the Democratic Party now.

Nothing can stop me from winning.

And some people can never win. That's you.

No matter what you put your mind to... well, it never works out.

- It's $100,000. - What I gotta do?

Kill James St. Patrick.

- Hello. - Croop?

Yeah, this is Croop.

- It's me. - Hey.

I got a mess I need cleaned up.

- When? - Today.

Today? I'm all the way down in D.C.

Nigga, I don't give a fuck where you at.

Bring your country ass up to New York

and do this damn job.

All right.

A'ight.

You know, I'm thinking, after I finish this drink,

why don't we swing by my place?

I'm good, Rashad, all right?

And I doubt you can handle me in the state you're in, anyway.

- In the state that I'm in? - The state you're in.

Come here.

Listen here. Rashad motherfucking Tate

ain't never left a woman unsatisfied

in his life,

and tonight will not be my first time.

- Hello. - Your fucking brother's here.

Damn. Is he drunk again?

I think you need to come get him.

- Okay. - Woman...

I'm gonna do some things to you

you ain't never, ever s...

Shit.

Maybe we should stop.

No, but I'm just getting started.

Me too, man. I'm in it. Let's go.

You guys are really bad at this.

- Whoa. - Oh, ho, ho!

- Babe, you hear him? - Uh-uh.

Boy, ain't no trash-talking at this breakfast table.

Just give us another one.

Okay, um...

Tennessee.

Mm, that's easy. Nashville.

- Yes, mm. - Mm.

What about Michigan?

Oh, we call that D-town,

but for you, Detroit.

- Wrong. - What?

Don't worry about that, babe. Mm-mm. Don't worry about it.

- Mm-mm. - Mm!

Everybody gets that wrong.

Grand Rapids. Right?

Are you asking me or telling me?

- Oh. - You see? You see?

Hey, come on. Father like son.

He gets it from you. No, he does exactly what you do.

Capital of Michigan is Lansing.

Fifth-largest city in the state.

Population is about 115,000, give or take,

and it's inside their eighth congressional district.

- Well, there you have it. - All right, now.

Uncle Rashad!

There he is. My man.

Give me some.

Mm, mm, mm.

Hey, Elijah, I'm sorry

I had to steal your bed last night, big guy.

It's okay.

Mm, welcome back among the living, Rashad.

- Thank you, sis. - I know you're hungry.

Ah, it smells amazing, but I'm actually okay.

Uh, I could use some coffee, though.

Want to talk about it?

Tate for Governor is over.

What?

I'm out of the governor's race.

Man, what you talking about?

Are you serious? What happened?

James St. Patrick happened.

He killed my campaign last night.

I swear to God, if I see his face one more time...

Uh, bad news, Uncle Rashad.

... primary season,

local entrepreneur James St. Patrick

has left the Tate campaign.

In a stunning turn of events,

sources say that St. Patrick will soon be announced

as Tate rival Lorette Walsh's running mate.

- Motherfucker! - Rashad.

I'm sorry, E. You didn't hear that, okay, buddy?

- Except I totally did. - ... in the race

- It's okay. - for New York state governor.

Walsh is vulnerable with urban

and minority constituents,

and St. Patrick's presence on the ticket,

especially after his exoneration on murder charges

in the death of FBI agent Gregory Knox,

will erase doubts from those communities

about Walsh's commitment to their interests.

That is enough politics for one morning.

- Yes. - Mm-hmm?

Okay, um, I still have to get Elijah ready for school.

Maybe your brother can use some fresh air.

- It's a good idea. - Yeah. Come on, Elijah.

Peace, Uncle Rashad.

Come on. Let me get you some clothes.

No. No more.

No more. Let me go, please.

Let me go. No more.

No, no.

Y'all hear that whoop? That's my shit right there.

Croop, please.

Whatever they're paying you,

I'll double it. I swear.

Frankie!

This ain't about no money.

Hit him again.

No more.

No more!

No more!

Stop!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, son.

You fucking up. Remember what I told you.

Stay away from the inner thigh.

That's right, 'cause you hit that femoral artery, and then what?

He gonna bleed out, and we don't want that.

What do we want?

- Pain. - Pain.

The fuck you do?

Nothing. He just passed out.