All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S16E07.720p.WEBRip.x264-BAE

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Oy, Murdoch.

Terence Meyers.

To what do we owe the
pleasure this time?

- Uh...
- Taft is coming to town today.

- The American President?
- Not an official visit.

He's simply en route to
his summer home in Quebec.

The Prime Minister has picked
our station to provide security.

Because of the trust we've earned.

No. Only because your station is closest

to where Taft will be disembarking.

He's getting off at the Don Station?

- By the bloody pig packers?
- Mm.

The Americans insisted on it.

We believe it's intended
to humiliate Laurier

by meeting with him in the
worst possible part of Toronto.

Oy!

So, I've drafted an
itinerary, gentlemen.

Please familiarize yourselves with it.

You're leaving?

Yes. A problem has arisen
on Project Aardvark.

Why Aardvark? Oh!

- National security.
- No, not national security.

The last one was Zebra and we're...

well, we're back to A. So...

Thank you.

Suspicious death at
the telegraph office.

- The one on the corner?
- Hm.

The alphabet.

Very clever. I like that.

What have we, Henry?

John Doe, sir.

Collapsed while he was
talking on the telephone here.

And what makes this death suspicious?

Apparently, the window shattered
at the very moment he collapsed.

More curious than suspicious, I suppose.

I was here when it happened. I...

I figured he'd been shot.

Mrs. Hart?

No sign of any external wound,

but bleeding from the nose and the ears.

Thank you.

What else could cause that?

A severe blow to the head, but
there's no indication of such.

Hm. Well, that is curious.

I've looked everywhere,
sir. No bricks, no rocks.

Henry, windows don't
simply shatter themselves.

If something was thrown,
sir, it's gone now.

Henry, at what time
did this man collapse?

Uh... 10:15, sir.

I'd like you to stay a little while

until you're feeling
better. Just take a seat.

Have a seat.

Another one's just come in.

- Mrs. Dunnegan.
- Hm.

Dizziness as well as headache

and what she calls tummy flutter.

- How many is this now?
- Five.

Well, six if you include the woman
who saw angels hovering over her.

- It's very odd.
- Nurse Sullivan is calling it

- "East End Syndrome".
- East End?

That's where most of them live.

Except for Mrs. Follows,
who lives near Church.

Perhaps this is environmental.

A localized toxin.

How many are still here?

Just Mrs. Dunnegan and Mrs. O'Conner.

Find out exactly where they were

before and during their symptoms.

Contact the others as well.

- I want to track this down.
- All right.

Bleeding out his nose and ears?

Yes, sir. Presumably
caused by severe trauma.

Yet he wasn't assaulted
at the telegraph office.

Maybe before?

Witnesses also stated
that the back window

smashed at the very moment he collapsed.

- Coincidence?
- I thought so as well,

but then I found this in his pocket.

10-15, number eight.

The precise time and place of his death.

- Hm.
- I've never seen anything like it.

His intestines have ruptured
and his lungs have collapsed.

But he had no visible injuries.

Not just that.

He wouldn't have been able to walk

into the telegraph office
in such a condition.

He could've neither stood, nor breathed.

Yet he was alive and well
moments before he collapsed.

Somehow, this happened to him there.

I have no idea how.

Mrs. Darby lives across
the river on Munro Street.

She left her house at half past nine

to go to her job at
the House of Providence.

And who's left?

Uh, Mrs. Ball.

Which one was she?

Unsettling thoughts
and stomach discomfort.

Yes. She thought she
had a ghost inside her.

Where did she go?

Uh, she lives at the corner
of Parliament and Sydenham

and was going to visit her friend
at Toronto General Hospital,

but she went to buy flowers
on Queen Street at Hannigan's.

That's where she started to feel funny.

Well, there it is.

All of these people start and end
their trips at different places,

but they all pass through
this intersection right here.

Hm.

- Henry?
- Uh, thank you.

Have you been able
to interview everyone?

All those I can track down, sir.

Right.

Well, let's begin with
all of those who observed

our John Doe prior to his collapse.

- That would be...
- William!

- What are you doing here?
- Julia.

What are you doing here?

I thought it was a clinic day.

Well, it is, but I've become

somewhat of a detective
myself this morning.

- Hm?
- I've uncovered the most unusual syndrome,

manifesting in symptoms both
physical and psychological.

Well, spiritual actually.

Spiritual?

Yes! My patients report
seeing ghosts and angels

and they all passed through this
intersection at the same time.

What time was this?

Just after ten o'clock, but
it's hard to be specific.

Did any of them happen to come

through this telegraph
office, by chance?

I don't think so. Why?

Julia, a man died here
at 10:15 this morning.

He experienced severe internal trauma

and... and well... now you've...

Henry.

Of the people you interviewed,

did any of them experience, uh...

What... what are the symptoms?

Headaches, uh, internal
discomfort and apparitions.

- What, like ghosts?
- Or angels.

No angels, but I've got ghosts.

Uh...

A Clement Bragg said he felt
the ghost of our John Doe

pass through him the
moment he collapsed.

But I think he'd been...

Ah. Anyone else?

Yes. Mrs. Jarvis said she
wanted to help John Doe,

but felt the hand of
God holding her down.

Oh! Well, that's curious!

Also, one of the switchboard operators

said she saw an aardvark, but...

... she was obviously a loony.

Please take us to her.

It was nothing.

I just had one of my episodes, is all.

Episodes?

They're not exactly fits.

I don't fall down and
start kicking about.

You experience petit mal seizures.

Just once in a while.

I can feel them coming,

I get crazy notions,
but I don't act crazy.

You say you saw an aardvark?

Just before I blacked out.

It flew off.

- It flew?
- Well, it's some kind of bird, isn't it?

Thank you, Miss Clark.

How fascinating.

I suspect her seizure was
triggered by the same event

that affected my patients
and your John Doe.

She doesn't know what
an aardvark looks like.

Well, I'm not entirely sure myself.

Then how could she have seen one?

Well, certain types of epilepsy
can cause hallucinations, visions.

Do you think it's possible
that she overheard someone

say the word "aardvark"?

- It's possible. Why?
- Because it's the name

of a secret government mission.

What are the odds the word "aardvark"
would come up twice in one day?

Inspector, has Calvert Weston arrived?

- Who?
- The American attaché?

What's he look like?

If he were here, you'd know it.

- Can I help you, sir?
- No.

And... he's here. Mr. Weston.

Welcome to Toronto. This
is Inspector Brackenreid.

You received my telegram?

I did. We're ready to
discuss your requests.

They're not requests.
They're requirements.

Mm.

Which we are doing
our utmost to fulfill.

At bloody short notice, by the way.

Perhaps it would be best if I
were to clarify our position.

This meeting is at the
request of your prime minister

and serves Canadian interests.

President Taft agreed because
he's already in the country

for personal reasons and
views this a courtesy.

That is understood.

It has no official
bearing, and any undertaking

will be devoid of
effect and, as you know,

this is the President's first
visit outside the United States

since Mexico and we do not want
a repeat of what happened there.

Of course. Security is
our highest priority.

To that end, I am in charge
of every person seconded to me

and that includes you and
the employees of this station.

- Now, hold on!
- Understood.

This visit will be conducted
with absolute secrecy.

No press. No photographs.

The President will have no physical
contact with any other person,

save your Prime Minister,

who will be afforded a single handshake

upon arrival and departure.

Any breach and this
visit will be aborted.

Is there any of this that is
not understood and accepted?

- It was understood. Yeah.
- Understood.

The President's train will
arrive in one hour and 50 minutes.

Let us proceed.

We need to talk. Another time, Murdoch.

It has to do with your Aardvark Project.

You go on ahead.

- You want me to go with him?
- Mm, yeah.

- Sorry.
- Excuse me, Doctor.

What do you know?

A man is dead.

Others have been sickened.

Wasn't supposed to be lethal.

Hm.

So, last fall,

several employees at
our Toronto headquarters

started experiencing
periods of acute discomfort,

which subsided after a moment or two.

We assumed it was the Belgians.

- The Belgians?
- Yes, their consulate

is directly across the street.

- And you don't trust them.
- Pff. Does anyone?

Uh, you believe the Belgians
created some kind of secret weapon?

We did. But we were wrong.

It turned out that these attacks

were emanating from a sump pump

that had become unbolted
in the building's basement.

And the vibrations travelled
through the building?

Exactly.

Once the sump pump was
reattached, the problem stopped.

But it got us thinking.

What if it could be a weapon?

Of course it did.

Now, the potential for
crowd control was obvious,

but there were other
applications, as well.

Such as murder.

This will go a lot faster if you
let me do the talking, Murdoch.

Hm?

We contracted a German scientist

by the name of Klaus
Meisner to design the device.

What frequencies is he using?

Uh, between 10 and 20 cycles per second,

13 being the default.

- So, below human hearing.
- Yeah.

It was a fortunate coincidence

that the frequency
with the greatest effect

also turned out to be undetectable.

And what is the effect?

Discomfort. Nausea. Headache, mostly.

Well, that would align with
the experience of my patients.

I tested it myself.

It's unpleasant, to be sure,
but certainly not deadly.

And yet, a man is dead.

In manners and circumstance

deeply connected to
this Project Aardvark.

So, there's something
else you should know.

These devices have been stolen.

We assume by Klaus Meisner.

We also assume that he's
responsible for this murder.

Well, I wish you luck.

I need to get back to the clinic.

Oh! Are you sure?

My mystery's solved.

Sounds like yours is just beginning.

- Shall we start with this John Doe?
- Yes.

Oh.

Do you know this man?

Yes, I do. This is Klaus Meisner.

Why did you think Klaus
Meisner was behind this?

He was kicking up a fuss.

Suggested the program be
canceled, the emitters destroyed.

Why?

Believe me, Murdoch, if
I knew, I would tell you.

Where did he work?

I'll take you.

- We're on the top floor?
- Yes.

The floor below is to be
cleared and locked off.

- No one is to enter.
- I'll get my men on it.

That would require me to
trust their competence.

Your men will patrol the periphery.

Two on the roof, another
two in each stairwell.

Armed, of course.

Make it shotguns.

Less chance of missing.

You give me ten men and I'll pick six.

We'll go with that
chair. It's more sturdy.

The President has a bad back.
Now, where's the telephone?

I'm expecting a call
from the first lady.

- Who?
- The President's wife.

- Ah.
- The call will be coming at five o'clock.

You tell the front desk to
make sure that line is open.

What time did Meisner die?

- 10:15. Why?
- Yeah.

I was here at 11:00 looking for him.

Left that in the door jam.

Someone's been here.

And may still be here.

You!

Step into view with your hands raised!

Alexander Graham Bell!

- Detective Murdoch!
What a sur... prise!

I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met.

Uh, Mr. Bell, this is Terence...

He doesn't need to know my name.

What are you doing here, Mr. Bell?

I came at the request of Klaus Meisner.

For what purpose?

Well, he wanted to use
an instrument I'd built

to measure subsonic vibrations.

May I ask what all this is about?

We believe a subsonic wave emitter

built by Klaus Meisner
was used to kill him.

That's still speculation, Murdoch.

Klaus is dead?

My God.

I... I spoke to him just this morning.

He was supposed to meet me here at noon.

- Is this the emitter?
- It is.

And, unfortunately, the only
one left in our possession.

Gentlemen, would you
like a demonstration?

All right.

Uh, hmm...

Stand no closer than ten feet,

or you will experience the
worst headache of your life.

Ah.

Ready?

Yes.

Whoa. That's enough for me.

Oh! Ha!

I must confess,

I had to retain strict
control over certain muscles

I only have the excuse
to use once a day.

Common symptom.

Some agents couldn't
maintain any control,

so, as you can see,
effective crowd control,

but even at this close range,

the waves produced are not fatal.

Yes, but Klaus Meisner is dead.

What if several machines
were aimed at him?

Well, their waves would likely
interfere with each other

and cancel each other out.

Ah, if they were to
converge at peak amplitude.

Peak what?

Well, if the emitters
were equidistant, huh,

and fired synchronously,

the wave peaks would converge

at a single point.

The resulting amplitude
would be the sum of each.

So, say, ten emitters

precisely arrayed would
produce an amplitude

ten times greater at
the point of convergence.

Yes, but keep in mind that the intensity

will diminish to the
square root of the distance.

- Of course.
- Mm-hmm.

Just how many machines
are missing, Meyers?

78.

78?!

Oh!

I suppose that could kill a man.

Is this it? One vehicle?

It was our understanding
only the President

and his driver would be
leaving from the station.

In full view with no protection?

I want three cars: one in
the front, one following.

There will be no stopping between
the station and the Dominion Hotel.

These are Meisner's
notes on the emitters.

It seems he had the same
idea as you, Mr. Bell.

He'd even worked out the
interference patterns.

- I would have thought as much.
- He was serious about this.

Hmm.

What are you two talking about?

What the devil is an
interference pattern?

Well, when waves interact,

they either amplify
or destroy one another,

creating nodes of
high and low amplitude.

Rather beautiful geometry, hmm?

Which would explain
the effect on the people

outside the telegraph office
when Mr. Meisner collapsed.

They each occupied a different node.

That makes sense.

Oh!

Oh, it's a film.

That's Klaus Meisner.

It appears he's
conducting an experiment.

Perhaps he's testing his theories?

Who is that?

Meisner's assistant, Rupert Lamar.

- Where is he now?
- We have yet to locate him.

Good Lord.

It can make you burst!?!

I believe the wavelength emitted

matched the resonant
frequency of the watermelon,

much like the voice of a soprano
could shatter a wine glass.

So, what would be the resonant
frequency of the human body?

Different organs and
materials would have...

different natural
frequencies, but I suspect,

given what we've seen, that it
would be in the subsonic range.

If Meisner was targeted, how?

Having separate waveforms
converge at a single point

would require absolute precision
in both location and timing.

So how could they possibly know

he was going to position himself
in exactly the right place?

Very true.

A few feet to the side and the
effects would have been very different.

Wait! He was at a
specific place and time.

He was on the telephone.

Of course.

Whoever triggered the devices

was possibly on the phone
with him at the time.

How? Did he... Did he call them?

Or they called him?

This note was found in
Klaus Meisner's pocket,

the man who died earlier.

That's right. Telephone
number eight at 10:15.

Yes. Now, what I need to know

is who was on the
other end of that call?

Or, at the very least, whether
it was placed, or received.

I can do you better than that.

The call came from FP 412
from a man called Grant Taylor.

- How did you...
- Mr. Meisner was expecting

a call in booth eight and wanted to know

who was going to be
calling, so I wrote it down.

Huh.

Mr. Taylor...

How is it that a witness
to Mr. Meisner's collapse

at the very same time called him

from a telephone three blocks away?

- I've nothing to say.
- Oh, come now, Mr. Taylor.

It was your phone call
that ensured his death.

You could be facing the noose.

I've nothing to say.

Put him in the cells.

So, we know the waveforms

converged at the telegraph office here.

So you're saying the
emitters are located

along these concentric lines here?

- Mm-hmm.
- How far apart are these?

87 feet, which corresponds
to 13 cycles per second.

Let's start kicking down some doors.

Something's happening. I...

Oh, move! Both of you!

I believe we're under attack.

It's not that severe.

We must be inside one of the nodes,

but we're not the intended target.

The cells!

I don't understand.

If the emitters were
set along these lines

in order to converge at
the telegraph office here,

then how were they able to converge

at our station house here a block away?

Could they have relocated every emitter?

No. That would be impossible
with such short notice.

- Mm.
- And Mr. Taylor was only in our station house

for, what, 15 minutes?

Perhaps our assumptions were wrong.

Meisner's emitters can fire at
a range of wavelengths, correct?

- Correct.
- And they're able to swivel

on their bases in any direction.

But in order to be effective,

they have to have their peak
amplitudes converge at a single point.

So, if each emitter was made
to face a specific target

and emit a specific wavelength,

then they could target
anyone within range?

They would have to recalibrate
the... the emitters very quickly.

They must be set up to communicate
wirelessly or something.

Rupert Lamar, Meisner's assistant,

was an expert in wireless transmission.

But... it makes no sense.

They were like father and son.

Why would he kill his mentor?

And how did they know
Taylor was in our cells?

Unless he triggered the device himself.

Unless he was merely a dupe.

And, if so, of whom?

Detective, my recorder
is sonically activated

whenever a vibration
exceeds a certain threshold.

Is it possible you've recorded it, then?

Gentlemen, we are in luck.

We may be able to determine
how the emitters are arrayed

based on relative
amplitude and frequency.

Eureka.

I'd best get to work.

I found something interesting
on Mr. Taylor's finger.

A tattoo.

It was obscured by his ring.

We've seen that before.

Indeed, we have.

Three weeks ago,

we uncovered evidence of
a group of rogue agents

calling themselves the
Soldiers of Columbia.

They're led by a former agent.

You know him as Allen Clegg.

Clegg?

That's impossible. Clegg
is dead. We've seen proof.

Is this the proof you've seen?

The tattoo was identical to this.

But, surely, Allen Clegg
didn't survive rabies

and a tumble over Niagara Falls.

The Soldiers of Columbia
are more than one man.

You may recall we found the same
tattoo on the hand of Agent Morris.

It is their symbol.

In any case, they've made
their intentions clear:

They want America to
invade and annex Canada.

And what better provocation
than the assassination

of the American
President on Canadian soil

using a covert weapon developed
by the Canadian Secret Service?

We need to talk to
Prime Minister Laurier.

And we're certain Taft is the target?

All we know for certain is that the
Soldiers of Columbia are involved.

This is the worst news at
the worst possible time.

Yes, sir. We will have to cancel.

No, it's too late to cancel. They've
already disembarked from the train.

They'll be here in a matter of minutes.

Well, then we will
inform them upon arrival.

Would that even help?

Didn't you just tell
me that these devices...

- Emitters.
- ... can target anyone anywhere?

Not exactly, sir.

Each emitter has to be
individually recalibrated

for each new location. It takes time.

Then, as long as Taft
keeps moving, he'll be safe.

- Sir...
- Look, you saw how they reacted to Mexico.

Consider the repercussions for Canada

if this plot is ever revealed.

Remember, we need this trade agreement

far more than the Americans do.

President Taft is arriving.

This meeting is for less than
an hour, followed by cocktails.

We'll keep him moving.

- Sir, he'll want to sit down.
- Then we'll change the seats.

And at all times,
I'll keep close to him.

If he dies, I die too.

And, in the meantime,
find those damned emitters.

- Yes, sir.
- Yes, sir.

All right, lads. Remember
what we talked about.

No one gets near the President.

I'll inform the inspector.

- I'll see if Mr. Bell's had any luck.
- Hmm.

Let me through.

- Sorry, sir.
- Oh, for... Thomas!

Bloody hell, Evans, let him through.

So, we have a problem.

Mind the curb, sir.

Your back hurt, sir?

My nose hurts worse.

There was a pork-packing
plant to the south.

Well, how many hogs does it
take to create a smell like that?

It must be in the thousands, sir.

Hm. They're an
industrious people, Weston.

But lacking in presentation.

Are we really going through with this?

Laurier doesn't want a repeat
of what happened in Mexico.

What did happen in Mexico?

A man was found ten feet away

from Taft and Diaz with a palm pistol.

Ooh! That's not good.

It was very much a non-event.

No attempt was made on his life, but,

of course, the Americans used
it very much to their advantage.

- Any luck, Mr. Bell?
- Well, as you know,

I intended to infer the source
from the amplitude and frequencies.

- And?
- Impossible.

In fact, might I say
blooming impossible.

I was ready to call it
quits when I discovered this.

It starts exactly three
minutes before the attack.

Each pulse separated by one second.

And each a unique wavelength.

The emitters are firing in sequence.

I believe we're looking
at the primary wave.

And this is the secondary phase.

Of course.

They're arrayed in straight lines.

By Jove. Yes! Two lines

arrayed at right angles to each other!

Right.

If this is the station house, uh...

What's the longest wavelength?

Uh, 13.2, two wavelengths, 171 feet.

So, if we assume the direction
of the telegraph office...

171...

... puts us at the intersection
of Sumach and Queen Street.

And the shortest is 100 feet.

What's all this?

We found out that the emitters
are arrayed in two lines

intersecting at this corner here.

100 feet puts us at the western
edge of the Dominion Hotel.

Where Taft and Laurier are meeting.

Could the emitters be
hidden in the hotel itself?

Only the top two floors
have been secured.

The Soldiers of Columbia could have
rented every room in the bottom two.

Right.

Please continue your
calculations, Mr. Bell.

Henry! Come with us!

You check the basement. I'll
start in on the first floor.

- Murdoch?
- I'll be right there.

Sit down!

Allen Clegg.

Well...

Hello, Detective.

I must confess I'm delighted
to see you, Detective.

Oh? Why is that?

Because as long as you're
here, you're not out there.

You see, you no longer present
the threat of discovery.

You should be happy, as well,

because you now have a front row seat

to a defining moment in history.

And what defines this moment?

Your failure?

Your arrests?

Your execution?

I had forgotten what a charming
conversationalist you are, Detective.

Yes, there will be an execution,

President Taft, of course,
but, uh, you, as well.

It's an unfortunate
necessity, I'm afraid.

But I would like you to know,
Detective, that I harbour

no ill will towards you personally.

We know about your secret weapon.

And we also know its limitations.

You can aim at a specific
point, but not a moving target.

Well, President Taft is
rather a rotund fellow.

How is it, exactly, that you intend
on keeping him moving for a full hour?

We don't have to.

Each time he moves,

you have to adjust every
one of your emitters.

That's 78 separate measurements,

78 separate calculations

and 78 commands.

It's one measurement repeated 78 times.

They're arrayed in
straight lines, equidistant.

The same function applies to all.

It only takes a few minutes
to reset every emitter.

Yes. We recorded your
test transmissions.

I know the exact wavelength
of each of your emitters.

You don't know which direction.
You don't know which wave.

I was able to find you.

And yet, here you are, all alone.

Who else in that little
station house of yours

could possibly figure it out?

We have none other than
Alexander Graham Bell

doing the calculations as we speak.

Go down, stay down.

If anyone shows up,

slit their throats.

Mr. President, I'm sure
you'll be more comfortable

in the capacious wingback.

It's made right here in Toronto.

Are you here to sell me a chair?

I'm here to sell you on
everything Canada has to offer.

He's changed his chair. Why?

That one's got more support.

I've got a bad back myself.

Age.

I don't like surprises.

Next time, tell me.

Ah!

- Did you find the emitters?
- No.

They're not at the hotel.

Nor are they at the brewery next door.

We even checked the barrels.

How odd!

According to my calculations,

they are in the immediate
vicinity of that corner!

Where's Detective Murdoch?

What's your stake in this?

You must know what these
Soldiers of Columbia want.

I support their aims.

You're Canadian.

Canada is a pasty child,

beholden to an indifferent
mother who demands obeisance,

but gives nothing in return.

I'd rather be American.

So much so you'd be
willing to kill for it?

People die in war.

It's the price of freedom.

It's not like I know
any of them personally.

You knew Klaus Meisner.

Klaus is dead?

He's your first victim.

He was to be left alone!

He was onto our plan. It was necessary.

We had an agreement!

And I changed that agreement.

I've had enough of this.

Sit down!

Be a man, swallow your
grief and do your job!

Are the emitters ready?

- They need to be recalibrated.
- Why?

The temperature has risen.

It affects the density of air,
which affects the wavelength.

Then you'd best get at it.

Because come five o'clock,
either Taft dies, or you do.

Help me put a stop to this.

If we fail, he'll shoot me.

If we succeed, I'll
be arrested for murder.

So, either way, my
destiny's predetermined.

When did you last see him?

Uh, at the front of the hotel.

He didn't come in, as far as I know.

Well, according to my calculations,

the emitters are arrayed along
the perimeter of the hotel.

They're not there! We checked!

Could they be buried underground?

Not buried...

In the sewers!

- Another attack?
- No.

It's the pre-attack calibrations.

That means another attack will
begin in exactly three minutes.

Mr. President, I want to thank you

for your generous
attention to our concerns.

Are you asking me to move again?

I don't want to presume to take more
of your precious time than is necessary.

You'll want to be on your way, I'm sure.

Nonsense. My wife is due to
call here at five o'clock.

- That has been arranged.
- It has, sir.

Then I shall continue
to rest my aching back.

I'll get to Taft. You two
try to disable the emitters.

Right!

Are the emitters ready?

- Just finishing now.
- Good.

I'll make the call myself.

I wish I could see the look on his face

when he hears my voice
instead of his wife's.

- What do we do?
- Well,

we turn as many of the emitters
as we can in the 60 seconds!

Hello, operator.

Connect me to the
Dominion Hotel, suite 401.

- Yes?
- It's time.

Ah, yes, we were
expecting your call.

Mr. President, first lady for you.

Right on time.

No. No!

No!

Stop!

You're too late.

Hello, dear.

Goodbye, Mr. President.

Who is this?

It's that phone!

You... You.

You!

Mr. President!

Mr. President! Mr.
President, are you all right?

My God!

What were you thinking?

I saved the President's life!

Sincere apologies, sir.

He saw I had a gun and didn't know

I was Canadian Secret Service.

I've never seen this
man before in my life.

- My back!
- Did he injure you, sir?

Quite the opposite.

I believe he's cured it.

I just saved your life.

And that of the American President.

I'm very much aware of that,

facts that I will make
clear to the crown attorney.

But you can't possibly think that
you're going to walk away from this.

I wonder what happened with
my wife's telephone call?

I assume we misconnected, sir.

We'll try again when
you arrive in Kingston.

Oh, well, she retires at 9:00 PM.

And that's less than four hours.

My back thanks you, Prime Minister.

I will consider your proposals.

- I'll await your reply.
- Hm.

Oh, Mr. Weston. Please stay behind.

I don't have time.

I'm afraid you'll have to
let them leave without you.

What are you doing, Murdoch?

He was working with Clegg.

I heard the other side
of that phone call.

It was your voice, wasn't it?

Dr. Ogden! Detective.

Miss Hart, forgive the intrusion.

When I heard the news, I
wanted to see for myself.

We've had something of a
history with Agent Clegg here.

He injected me with rabies.

Well, he's certainly history now.

It appears the Y-section
has already been done.

Mm. It just looks that way.

Now we get to do it for real.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -