All language subtitles for NCIS.S06E13.1080p.WEBRip.x265-INFINITY.en

I wish I could stay,
but I have to fly.

Oh, no.
That's terrible!

You actually said it.

I thought I was gonna
ruin the moment

by saying the wrong thing.

Oh? What could you
possibly say?

I don't know.

Anything involving
the word layover.

Okay...

Okay.
All right.

(laughing)

(sighs)

(sighs)

I can't believe
you did this to me.

I love you.

And you stabbed me
in the back.

(grunts)

At least I looked you
in the eyes.

Oh, Cheryl...

(gasping)

(crying)

(grunts,
knife clatters to ground)

(groans)

WOMAN:
Is he okay?

WOMAN 2:
Is he all right?

MAN:
He's been stabbed.

Somebody call
an ambulance!

Captioning sponsored by
CBS PARAMOUNT NETWORK
TELEVISION

What could it be for McGee?

Cookies.

Those would have to
be some huge cookies.

Care package from home.

Winter clothes?

Mittens?

Oh!
Too heavy.

(grunts)

I'm bored; I don't want
to play anymore.

I don't care.

Well, I am opening it.

Thank God.

Oh, goody, they're here.

Goody? Who says goody?

ZIVA:
What is it?

This is my Mac SE.

Got it for my
eleventh birthday.

She is my first.

This is going to get
really strange, isn't it?

Going to?

These are chapters
of my life.

From the earliest
discovery

to that palpable connection

and the eventual evolution.

Look at this.

Here I am making the
transition to PC.

I'll alert
the Smithsonian.

Maybe they can make a space
for your exhibit--

"The Chronicles
of a Teenage Shut-in."

How do you remember
your childhood?

Vaguely.
(Ziva laughs)

You have no
sense of history.

I do.

And so does
Petty Officer Kevin Lim.

He's history?

GIBBS:
Oh, yeah.

Let's go.

Grab your mittens.

It's cold out there.

(camera shutter clicks)

I forgot my passport,
I came back, and

I saw that he was, uh...

(siren blaring, crowd chatter)

You didn't see who did it?

I didn't have to.

It was Cheryl, his ex-fiancée.

The engagement
was just broken off.

I need to take
your statement.

All right.
Okay.

Here, let's go inside
for some privacy.

Boss, got an eyewitness
who saw a woman with blood

on her hands headed
around the corner.

Not the stewardess.

Doesn't fit the flight
attendant's description.

The ex. Canvass.

PALMER:
The reason I missed

"I" Street is because
I was expecting

to find "I" Street
two blocks past "K" Street.

It is a rare place in
this world, Mr. Palmer,

where reason is
the best compass.

Miss the turn?

H, I, J, K.

That's how
the alphabet works, right?

Goes the same forwards
as backwards.

In Hebrew,
there is no J.
Uh...

Apart from the name
of the food court

at George Washington University,

there is no J Street
in the District.

Perhaps that's where you've
been spending your time,

Mr. Palmer, instead
of going to class.

I suppose that's

further evidence of
my lesser education

that I did not know that.

DUCKY:
The fault lies

not with the institute of
higher learning, Mr. Palmer,

but with your
observational skills.

In 1791, a Parisian,

Pierre Charles L'Enfant,
was commissioned

to design a
city plan.
Okay, here we go.

The Capitol is at the center.

Four quadrants radiate
northwest, southwest,

northeast, southeast.

The north-south streets
are numbered, the east-west

streets are lettered.

When the alphabet is exhausted,
they go syllabically.

First, two syllables,
then, three syllables.

Macomb is followed
by Newark...

And Albemarle

is followed by Brandywine.

I understand, Doctor.

I failed one class.

That doesn't make me
a bad student.

So then,
why is there no J Street?

(phone ringing)

Sorry.

GIBBS:
13th and L.

One block north,
two blocks east.

Need you here, Ziva.

Thirteenth and L.

Be right there, Gibbs.

I will make up the class.

Maintain the scene.
Mm-hmm.

DUCKY:
Make it up to me right now.

Really?

Yeah. Come on.

(distant chatter)

(distant shouting,
dog barking)

(rustling)

Got her!

ZIVA:
Stand up!

Show me your hands!

(anxious gasping)

MCGEE:
Hands behind your back.

(Cheyl sobs quietly)

Upward angle of
the trajectory

likely severed the
abdominal aorta.

The shape indicates
a clockwise twisting.

The assailant
was probably right-handed.

Refrain from conjecture.

(clears throat)

Exsanguination
lead to death.

Judging by the diameter
of the pooling,

I'd say he bled out
within, uh, three minutes.

Cold surface expedites
coagulation.

Perhaps four.

Why is there no J Street?

I just told you, I don't know.

And I just gave you a clue

to the answer.

(chortles)

DUCKY:
We are discussing

the construction
of the very streets

where democracy
would stride freely.

Excuse me. Sorry.

That's a nice hat.

Excuse me. Sorry.

So, uh, is that her?

Yeah, quickest case ever.

Yeah, sets a new record.

Out of the way.

Nothing to see here, folks.

(onlookers murmuring)

DUCKY: This was the
transformation of so much.

It was the bedrock
of the most lofty ideals.

These were not
idle decisions, Mr. Palmer.

Even in 1791...

(shouts in native language)

Doctor, look out!

Look out!

(Ducky whimpers)
PALMER:
Doctor!

(continues shouting
in native language)

Doctor!

MAN:
Get her!
Stop her!

Stop her!

Hold her.
Got her. Got her.

(groans)

That way!
She's wearing
a green scarf

covering her face!

(Ducky groaning)
Ducky...

(moans)
Stay still, Duck.

(groaning)
I'm all right, Jethro.

It's just a...

(groaning)

...defensive wound.

(elevator bell dings)

WOMAN (over P.A.):
Portable X-ray to 256 North.

Jimmy.

Hi.

How is Ducky?

Multiple
superficial lacerations,

plus the blade finally embedded
in the midpalmar space,

possibly damaging
or even severing

flexor tendons
and lumbrical muscles.

Best-case scenario

entails weeks of
physical therapy, uh,

after reconstructive
surgery.

He should be out
any second now, so...

So the short answer is,
he's alive.

What?

Oh, uh, yeah, yeah.

Because when you hear,
"Ducky got stabbed,"

you don't necessarily
take that part for granted.

Yeah. Sorry, sorry.

It's okay.

You are very,
uh, calm.

I am.

If I keep going
to Crazytown

every time one of you
gets hurt,

I'm gonna have
to have my mail forwarded.

Ducky.

Abby?

Oh! How kind of you to visit.

Oh, they gave you morphine.

Well, just a drop.

Duck, anything you
remember about the attack?

Oh... my-my glasses.

Oh!

Sweetie, you held on

to them for me while

I went under the knife.

It's ironic that the solution
to one knife should be...

Mr. Palmer, would... would you,
uh, finish that thought for me?

Sure, Doctor.

Oh, and you
need to send

for a substitute M.E.

Uh, Jordan...?

Uh, Dr. Hampton?
Yeah.

On my desk you'll
find her number,

while I myself lay here
getting much numb-er.

(laughs)

Nurse, more anesthetic!

And don't spare the horses.

(elevator bell dings)

Okay,
he's zonked out of his gourd,

and he's still playing
with words.

Impressive.

Abs-- weapon, prints.

How am I supposed to log this?

Because technically,

it's the weapon of interest
in two separate cases.

I'll figure it out.

(elevator bell dings)

(indistinct shouting
on TV monitor)

One of the residents
captured the actual attack

on their camera phone?

Neighbors seem to think a crime
scene makes better watching

than, uh, daytime television.

Quality isn't great.

(indistinct shouting)

Let me see if I can
clean this up a bit.

PALMER:
Doctor?

Stop her. Stop her!

(typing)

(indistinct shouting)

ZIVA: She's what,
approximately five-foot, three?

Mid- to late thirties.

She's wearing a hijab.

Likely Muslim.

All right, this should do it.

(woman shouting
in native language)

(McGee tapping keys)

(shouting replays)

Sounds like Pashtun or Dari.

Might be a regional
Afghani dialect.

We can get a linguist on it.

So... you're dead.

Sorry about that.

(mild imitation of Ducky):
Poor... fellow.

You know,
if it's any consolation,

all indications are
that you went out...

with a bang.

Oh, forget it.

Dr. Hampton.

Jim.

Oh, you prefer Jimmy.

Jim Palmer was a pitcher
for the Orioles.

I was named after him,
but...

I have never really liked

baseball.

Noted.

Well, please,
you may call me Jordan.

I was named
after a body of water

towards which I bear
no ill will.

Why would Dr. Mallard need
a last minute fill-in?

It seems very
unlike him.

Oh, he was assaulted
at a crime scene.

Oh.
H-He'll be okay.

His hand was injured.

Oh.

Scary.

I suppose we can be
his hands for today.

The facts of this case
are pretty cut-and-dry.

Jordan?

Hmm?

You okay?

Yes, fine.

Let's get started.

Thank you.

ABBY:
Talk to me, baby, talk to me.

Fingerprint sheet.

Oh, hey.

I was, I was talking
to the knife.

You want to
talk knives?
Always.

What we have here

is a SliceCo chef knife.

It's a standard part
of the 12-piece introductory

counter block kitchen set.

It's laser-beveled

titanium steel
rust-resistant blade,

and the tang extends
the full length

of the engineered
thermo-resin handle,

which will not crack, chip,
fade, or absorb any material.

It will, however,

retain a print
on a bloody smear.

Or in this case,
many prints.

Summer job?

Yeah, telemarketing,
sophomore year.

It helps if you believe
in the products.

These are actually
really good knives.

The handle has been handled
by many hands,

so it's going to take
some hunting and pecking

to isolate Ducky's attacker.

What about the hijab?

I pulled some hair from it.

The fabric is

quite old, handmade.

So it fell off
when you were chasing her?

Mm, unlikely.

It is designed to always
stay on as a sign of modesty.

She would not just
lose it by accident.

She was trying to
disappear in plain sight.

(phone ringing)

Yeah.

MCGEE: Ziva, hey.
The linguist has a translation.

On my way.

Are you sure this is right?

That's what she said, boss.

Three decades ago,
in my RAMC days,

I was seconded
to an American tank regiment.

(weak laugh)

Hand injuries were prevalent
in the Armored Cavalry.

As a result,

I considered making hand
surgery my specialty.

(chuckles)

Fortunately, I opted
for a less-sensitive clientele.

Otherwise, this might
spell an end to my career.

"Sabab

"ann muredaha toostee."

"Dari."

Means...

"Bringer of death."

Picked up a few words,
did you, Duck?

Your old RAMC days
in Afghanistan?

I don't want to
talk about it.

Yeah, well, the next phrase
she yells means:

"You killed my brother."

Any idea why she would
have said that?

Perhaps because I killed
her brother.

We have found
her, Gibbs.

The woman's name
is Mosuma Daoub.

Put her in interrogation.
She's not actually here.

What Ziva meant to say is we've
I.D.'d her. Fingerprint match.

Throw it up, McGarnagle.

(typing)

Mosuma Daoub--
Afghani immigrant,

married to Ezmaray Daoub,
two children.

That's their home address.

According to her tax returns,

she works at a flower shop
in the neighborhood

where the attack took place.

Her boss says
she hasn't been seen

since yesterday
morning.

She went out
for coffee,

stuck a knife in Ducky,
and never came back.

Pick her up at home.
She has not returned home.

According to her husband,
he doesn't know where she is.

Then bring him in here.

McGee, I want to ask
you something.

The director's still in
budget allocation meetings?

Yeah, he's gone till
the end of the week.

Well, I need a
personnel file.

It can't wait.

Well, I could access that
without disturbing the director.

Who?

Dr. Donald Mallard.

Mr. Daoub, you have not
heard from your wife?

I leave her messages.

I call her friends.

I have been trying not to
panic the children,

but I was so nervous
when I dropped them at school...

I forgot to give them
their lunches.

Can you identify
your wife's hijab?

Hijab?

You mean her scarf.

We are not so
traditional.

Where did
you find it?

Near her work.

What could have happened
that she would not call me back?

We will find out.

Cell records for
Mosuma Daoub.

Any record of her calling home
since yesterday?

Negative.

Hmm. Mr. Mom's story
checks out.

Only calls she made
were to the embassy.

Which embassy?

DUCKY: Afghanistan--
a country with a fascinating

and tumultuous history.

Ruled over the centuries
by Kushans, Mongols,

Pushtans, Persians,

and a series of tribal leaders

where succession was often
by assassination.

The Soviets tried their hand
for a while.

They were opposed
by the mujahideen,

who naturally were supported
by U.S. and Britain,

and out of that mess
emerged the Taliban,

with their rigid interpretation
of Islam.

It was they
who finally destroyed

the ancient statues of Buddha
in the Bamiyan Valley.

I was with the
Royal Army Medical Corps

when a notice went up
in the officers' mess

asking for volunteers

for a refugee camp
on the Pakistan border.

I was such a kid back then.

(both chuckle)

Full of ideology.

I wanted to go somewhere
where I would do the most good,

where my skills
would be appreciated.

I was also
rather entangled

with a possessive
German female.

Hmm.
Olga.

Was an easy way to cut loose.

(chuckles)

But of course you're
too much of a gentleman

to speak of your old flame.

(chuckling):
Yes, well, right now,

I'm concerned
in producing a new one.

I'll do it.

Ah.

Thank you.

Most kind.

(gasps)
DUCKY:
Oh, my!

There's a bird
in the house.

(classical music
playing on stereo)

(groaning)

Someday they're going
to put a plaque on this bench

with both our names,
Gibbs.

Mr. Kort.

Agency's keeping you local.

Travel is touchy at the moment.

I made a few
enemies overseas.

What, with your
winning personality?

When you finally open that
charm school, let me know.

I need a favor.

Hmm.

But Gibbs, I don't like you.

That's okay,
I don't like you either.

Not trading on kindness.

But we are trading.

CIA aided
the mujahideen resistance

against the Soviets.

The '80s?

I was running track at Oxford,
not covert missions.

Dig.

Where?

Jalozai Refugee Camp,
Pakistani border, summer 1980.

Whatever you got.

This is going
to cost you, Gibbs.

You are
the American NCIS agents?

I'm Special Agent
Anthony DiNozzo.

Ziva David.

I am Qasim Saydia.

Got any idea what goes on
around here,

Mr. Saydia?

I believe that I do.

Great.

It would be really helpful
if you knew about Mosuma Daoub.

TONY:
Otherwise, I'm afraid

we'll have to speak
to your superiors.

Yes, well,

that will require quite
a lengthy plane flight,

Agent DiNozzo.

Tony, he is the ambassador.

TONY:
I apologize.

So you know what goes on
around here.

Where is she?

Mosuma Daoub is
in this building.

She stabbed a man on
an American street yesterday.

SAYIDA:
She explained this to me.

However,
she is under the protection

of the government
of Afghanistan

until we can investigate
these accusations.

Sir, since when has she been
under your protection?

We only just made
these accusations.

I'm not referring to the
accusations against her;

rather, the accusations she has
made against your Dr. Mallard.

Excuse me?

SAYIDA: She admitted
that she lost control

of her senses
for a moment,

when she recognized him,
but I can hardly blame her.

From what she has told me,
this man is a villain.

What exactly
did she tell you?

That Dr. Mallard violated

Article 4 of the
Geneva Convention.

War crimes?

Ducky?

Article 4
of the Geneva Convention

prohibits the use of violence
against noncombatants.

ZIVA:
Ducky's not a
war criminal.

That woman is lying.

MCGEE:
We won't know the details
until formal charges

are filed
with the State Department.

Then everyone will know.

ZIVA:
Ambassador Saydia said

it involved events
that took place

at Jalozai Refugee Camp
almost 30 years ago.

Which would make Mosuma Daoub

like eight years old
at the time.

So, this woman
is walking down the street,

minding her own business,

sees Ducky,

someone she hasn't seen
since she was a little girl,

and is suddenly overcome
with the urge to stick

a knife in him?
She was hiding.

Her husband said she never wore
her hijab covering her face.

I mean,
that shows premeditation.

Spitting distance
from the Navy Yard.

She could have known
Ducky would be there.

She's not so innocent.

Okay, let's figure out
how and when Mosuma

could have seen Ducky
in the neighborhood

and how she'd know
he'd be on the street.

Re-canvass,
reinterview, reexamine.

Why are you talking so fast?
Want to get a plan

of attack together,
'cause according

to my internal Gibbs clock,
he's about

to walk through
that door right...

...now.

Now.

Huh.

(whispering):
Somebody's clock is off.

Hope Dr. Mallard knows how good
a friend you are to him.

Two-way street, Trent.

I don't think they
ever clean anything

out of the archives
at Langley.

I had to go through 100
boxes to find that.

An old instructor--
not one of my favorites--

was at the Jalozai camp.

I opted not to call in
a favor of my own.

Prefer to stockpile those
for a rainy day.

I'm good for it.

No doubt.

Can't help but notice
these same ends could

have been reached with one call
from your director to mine.

Creates an official trail,
of course.

You preferred the
back-channel approach.

In the hope of
continuing goodwill,

this second one
is on the house.

You really should learn
to polish the brass.

(knock at door)

Did you lock yourself out?

Oh.

Were you expecting
somebody else?

Uh...

Good to see you
up and around.

What you got in
the box, Duck?

A dead starling.

According to superstition,
when a bird flies in a house,

it means that someone
who lives there is about to die.

I was worried.

Mother has moved out.

I thought the augury
might apply to me.

Yeah?

How is she doing?

The bad days
far outnumber the good.

The scientist in me
knows that Alzheimer's

is a deterioration,
progressively, of brain cells,

but the philosopher wonders
whether it isn't

the soul's violent attempt
to eliminate painful memories

of a life fraught
with contradiction.

Yeah.
Brain can do that.

I mean, the bird was here,
where it didn't belong.

Instead of flying south,
it came in here for warmth.

Alighted on that chair.

It didn't move
when the dogs closed in.

It happened all so slowly.

The eldest one,
Cooper,

he opened his mouth,
and he grabbed it.

I yelled, and the bird fell
on the floor.

Poor thing.

I did so wish
that it might still be alive.

I suppose

the omen applied to
the bird itself.

You've been told about

the possibility of a war crimes
tribunal in the Hague?

Yeah, I had a phone conversation
with Ambassador Saydia.

Netherlands are lovely.

Windmills are all frozen.

Tulips
are all dead.

Not dead; dormant.

You're not going, Duck.

And what have you brought?

CIA footage taken in Jalozai.

Such devastation
in that camp.

Such suffering and pain.

Checked this out
of your local library, did you?

Pulled a few strings.

I thought I might save lives
flung there by the maelstrom.

I could sooner pluck a grain
of sand from a sirocco.

You, uh...

you got a sheet anywhere?

What?

"A calm and
responsible person."

All her coworkers
say the same thing.

Until she saw Ducky yesterday.

We can change our perspective,

but it doesn't change
what happened.
If you were a dork

in high school, you'll always
be a dork in high school.

That's not why I
wanted my computers.

I'm not trying to
rewrite my life story.

Did you read something personal
into what I just said?

McGee, I don't follow.

Tony, there's nothing new
to learn there.

There has to be.

Why?

The alternative is that Ducky
was Dr. Mengele.

(speaking native language)

That's not her brother.

I will know his face
when I see it.

His name was Javid.

He came to me with lacerations.

It looked as if he'd survived
a knife fight.

I stitched him up,
but he returned,

the wounds reopened.

The guy conducting
the interrogation?

His official affiliation
was a mystery.

We-We... We first met
when he came to me

for a physical checkup.

Then we met socially
for a game of chess.

He suffered
from a rare

congenital defect.

He himself
could not feel pain.

GIBBS:
Feels nothing.

Specializing in torture.

If you can't feel anything,

you don't know
when anything's gone wrong.

A lot go wrong out there, Ducky?

I was never in that room,
but I became suspicious

when Javid came to me
a third time.

I made inquiries--
I discovered

that my chess-playing companion
was known to everyone

in the camp, except me,
as "Mr. Pain."

That's him.

That's Javid.

Poor boy insisted
that he knew nothing

about troop
movements or spies.

Neither that nor any other force

could stop Mr. Pain
from torturing him

for days.

And-And-And each time,

he was sent back to me
to be sewn up.

It was my first exposure
to that kind

of interrogation technique.

In the intervening years,
it has become

dreadfully commonplace.

(switch clicks,
projector stops)

Are you gonna make me ask again?

I suppose it's inevitable,

when we reach the tipping point,

when your curiosity
outweighs your courtesy.

What the hell is wrong
with you, Ducky?

Your life
is in the balance here.

Huh? What did
you do there?

Only what was required of me.

Are you protecting that guy?

I am protecting
no one, Jethro.

Look...

if you intend to unravel strings

further
on this matter,

I would prefer that you
leave them un-pulled.

No.

Gibbs.

Are you leaving?

Yeah.

Good to see you, Doctor.

Good to see you, too.

Donnie,

I think I
found a place

in the ground
that's not too tough.

Well, I'm sure that
will be lovely

for... oh!

(Ducky sighing)

It was only stunned.

DUCKY:
Only stunned.

He's been, uh...
waxing philosophical.

HAMPTON: Did he
read you passages

from Rilke's Letters
to a YoungPoet, hmm?

(chuckling)

Keep an eye on him.

TONY:
What do you think?

Is that Mosuma?

What am I looking at?
ZIVA:
We have been sifting

through old crime scene photos
within walking distance of

the same neighborhood.
TONY:
Trying to prove she's
seen him before.

MCGEE:
And that she was lying

when she told the ambassador

it was a heat
of the moment thing.

If she's a liar,
Ducky's in the clear.

Good theory.

It is a good theory,

but it's... not.

We got nothing.

Boss, it was a
coincidence.

No, it's not; it's fate.

What does this woman
know about Ducky?

He won't say.

TONY: Well, if
the ambassador

gets his hands around his neck,
he'll make him say.

McGee, I.D. the guy
on this film.

Sounds more like a job for Tony.

No, that's a genuine bad guy.

He's not an actor.

GIBBS: Probably tied
to the CIA.

(phone ringing)

Yeah. Gibbs.
Gibbs, it's Jordan.

I was just in the kitchen
making him some supper.

I came to check on him, and...

Well, I have no idea
where he went.

I do.

Let's go, Duck.

No.

SAYDIA:
Can I help you?

Special Agent Gibbs.

You can't arrest this man.

The accusations are false.

Dr. Mallard has been accused
of torturing and killing

a citizen of Afghanistan
seeking refuge.

You have evidence
to dispute this?

Then the course
of action is set.

A tribunal must
be convened.

Then you force me to petition
for the arrest of Mosuma Daoub.

You're harboring a criminal.

I have had no contact
with your State Department,

which suggests they are unaware
of what has transpired.

Perhaps because you want
to protect your friend.

You arrest him, I arrest her.

Lack of respect
shown by you and your people.

You will create

an international
incident, sir.

You're the diplomat, not me.

Obviously.

Dr. Mallard.

Ambassador.

Have you brought
legal counsel?

I don't need counsel.

I've come here to surrender.

"All that is necessary
for the triumph of evil

is that good men do nothing."

You're quoting
Edmund Burke.

All day with Ducky.

I've got to get him
to call off the dogs.

Gibbs...

the ambassador answers only

to the highest authority
in his country.

You cannot apply
enough pressure to bend him.

He has not contacted
the State Department.

He does not want this.

This a lesson
in Mideast diplomacy?

Political relations
what they are

between Afghanistan and the
U.S., he cannot afford

to appear as the aggressor.

He needs an out.

It is seven hours
until sunrise in Kabul,

then... it moves up the chain.

There is still time,

if you can
get Ducky to open up.

ABBY: Did you write this
aging program, McGee?

MCGEE:
Yeah, updated

some of the protocols
on the existing version.

ABBY:
It's not bad.

Let's see

how we do
with facial recognition.

I heard about
your shipment from home.

I was kind of shocked.

Big surprise--
I was a dork.

That's not
what I meant.

Well, you may not have noticed,

but it's taken
a lot of work to outgrow

those awkward, geeky phases.

I like your
geeky parts.

Well, I do, too, but I want
to be more than just

a walking search engine,
you know?

See, the tricky thing
is adding the new layers...

Without losing some of the
old ones; I get that.

Well, then,
what are you shocked at?

Oh, I can't believe
you were a Mac guy.

(computer beeps)

Got him.

Agency I.D. card
for Marcin Jerek.

Born in Poland,
fled to Britain.

Until health complications
forced him into retirement,

Jerek lectured on interrogation
techniques at Langley.

He's an expert
at breaking a subject.

Now we have to break him.
Address is in Virginia.

That's nice work, McEgghead.

Oh, and the box is
going back to the attic.

That's smart.
Yeah, got everything I needed.

All the data is right here.

Your head really is shaped
like an egg, you know that?

Don't do that.

Thank you for seeing
us, Your Excellency.

GIBBS:
We need a...

a conversation
with Dr. Mallard.

He has made it clear

he does not wish
to speak with you.

No, not me.

Then who?

(door opens)

TONY:
Just in here, sir.

I'm taken from my home
by federal agents,

delivered to the
Afghani government

and accused of war crimes.

And after all this,
it's just Ducky.

When you left Jalozai,
we were in the middle of a game.

Do you remember?
Vividly.

You had me
in a knight-bishop fork.

You should've
seen this guy's place.

Tower of London's got
nothing on it.

It's like
a weapons museum.

MAN:
In here.

What is going on?

SAYDIA:
It's all right, Mosuma.

Just listen.

Then you decide
both their fates.

Oh, it appears
theirs will be the next move.

I suspect Trent

(over speakers):
is to blame for this betrayal.

"Trent"?

The destiny of students

to disappoint their masters.

So do you think they expect us

to quake in fear
at the hangman's noose?

I have surrendered
to their judgment.

It is beyond my powers
to induce you

to admit your shame.

Oh, once again,
you misread me.

You feel no pain because
of your physical condition.

But that is no excuse
for your lack of remorse.

Their enemies
were hidden amongst them,

so I am summoned.

Times of war call for

a greater enemy, but...

you flew in, Doctor.
(chortles)

A moth to the flame.

Ignorant, you would be
burned by its touch.

MR. PAIN:
You were a tourist.

I came there to save lives.

You were there to destroy them.

One life to save thousands.

MR. PAIN:
You do not think it costs?

How many did
you save?

And how many did you take?

Tell me.

He does not deny
he killed my brother.

You never learned that death,

although occasionally
unavoidable,

was rarely of use to me.

I cannot carry on conversations
with the dead.

Accept it.

Millions are
alive still

because of the work
I conducted while you ran.

You shroud your depravity
in principle.

But you, you take such...
joy in what you do.

Joy and pain must be earned.

You're like a child
pulling the wings off flies.

My curse was my gift.

My deficiency was the fuel

that drove my life towards
a singular pursuit.

The pursuit of suffering!

Of understanding

the limits of
human conviction.

The moment when a person

abandons their most
deeply-held beliefs.

I've seen the tools
of your trade.

Hmm, and I've seen yours.

So which of your
morphine victims

have brought us here?

His name was Javid.

An innocent caught up
in your net.

Who wanted no part
of war.

Who sought only safety.

Javid did not know anything.

There was no reason.

Yes, there was.

He had nothing to give you.

I was there with him,

speaking with him
through his dying breath.

While you ignored
his infection,

providing only the overdose

that killed him.

It was an agonizing decision.

MR. PAIN:
But it was your decision.

No amount of pain
removes free will.

If I kept him alive, he would
have continued to suffer.

Dying slowly,
in excruciating pain,

at your hands.

So you became
the "bringer of death."

What was the point in it all?

How can you still not see?

What did you want from him?

Nothing.

I wanted nothing from him.

Javid was not your target.

He was your weapon.

The boy was the means
to break a man.

MR. PAIN:
Your bleeding heart

eased everyone's fears.

Without fear, I could
not do my job.

You were torturing me.

To change you.

But you took
too long to break.

I could have saved him.

I have heard enough.

If only you'd left sooner.

Hope left with the saint.

The savage brought salvation.

You all right, Mosuma?

Excuse me.

Come. Let us go.

You are free to go,
Dr. Mallard.

The charges
against you

will not be pursued.

You're forgiven.

For the crime, Jethro.

For the act,
there is no forgiveness.

I can't remember
where this goes.

I just want everything to be
perfect here.

Jimmy, I know you're anxious
to have Dr. Mallard back,

but he's not
the kind of man

who wants a big show
of affection.

What kind of man is he?

Welcome back, Doctor.

Dr. Mallard.

1791.

Uh, while you were gone,
I, uh...

I was studying
the penmanship

on the Declaration
of Independence...

Mr. Palmer...

Jimmy, why don't you take
the rest of the day off.

Go outside.

Smell a rose or two.

Actually, it's pretty cold out.
I...

Oh.

Sure.

Thanks.

Doctor...

some people think that J Street

was omitted as
an intentional slight

against Chief Justice
John Jay,

but that
isn't it, is it?

It's because in 1791
a capital "J"

so closely resembled
a capital "I,"

so they couldn't have both.

They were just trying to keep
people from getting lost.

(sobbing)

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