All language subtitles for Person of interest s03e11

Time's up.
Told you I'd end you.

Not today!
Ripped By mstoll

Finch, got a problem.

Reese has really gone off
the reservation this time.

We're out of options.
We need Root.

I know this is our only
option, Ms. Shaw.

I just want to make sure
we're prepared for what may happen.

Mr. Reese, we save lives.
You save lives.

Not all of them.

- Ms. Shaw.
- We have a new number yet?

- No, not at this time.
- It's been a while.

Guess the city's scumbags
have been behaving.

- We could use a little quiet.
- I don't do quiet.

That's why I took this job
and the one before that.

Not sure I appreciate
being associated

with your former employers,
who tried to kill you.

It's not like this job's any safer.

Speaking of quiet,
have you heard from Reese?

As soon as he was strong enough
to stand, he left without a word.

Any idea where he went
or when he's coming back?

I'm afraid only Mr. Reese
can answer those questions.

Goodbye, Ms. Shaw.

Whiskey.

Just keep them coming.

Another game, huh?
Double or nothing?

- Okay.
- What are you trying to pull?

What, you think you can hustle me?

Come on, man,
it's just a lucky shot.

Well, your luck just ran out, pal.

Hey! Hey!
Hey, come on!

Somebody help me!
Take it easy, guys!

Let me know
if this is taking it easy.

Stop.

I'll be going out
for provisions later.

Please let me know if there's
anything in particular you require.

Just a book from your cart.

Top shelf, third from the right.

"Falses Gods:
Pseudepigrapha In The Modem Age?“

Doing a little light reading,
Ms. Groves?

I know it's been hard
for you, Harold,

what with everything
you've been through.

And now even John's left.

Still, you really shouldn't
take it out on her.

I'm sure I don't know
what you're talking about.

I'm talking about you ignoring her.

She has a new number for us.

How did you get this?

Are you communicating
with The Machine?

I understand why you wanna quit,
Harold, but now is not the time.

She wants us to work together.

I knew you
were holding out on me.

Must you do that?

- So we have another number.
- I haven't decided.

"Decided?"
I didn't think you got to decide.

Actually, I do.

Okay, well, is that gonna happen
anytime soon

or should I be looking
for some action elsewhere?

Arthur Claypool.

Something wrong, Finch?
- No, nothing. We should get to work.

You're in the hospital's
employee database as Dr. Anne Moore.

You sure you don't
wanna play MD, Harold?

I never made a convincing doctor,
even when I was one.

No, I think it's best if I stay here

and find out as much as possible
about Claypool.

So what are the details on this guy?

He lives and works in Maryland.

Until recently, he was an IT
consultant at a software company,

Runyon Technology Solutions.

His most recent credit card charges
are at the hospital gift shop.

- What room's he in?
- That's the strange part.

There's no record of him
in the hospital's admissions system.

- I got him. He's here.
- What's this?

Then his medical records
must be on file.

I found them.

According to this, his diagnosis
is glioblastoma multiforme.

Brain tumor.
Does it give a prognosis?

Terminal.

So, assuming this guy is the victim,
who would wanna kill a dying man?

I suppose
that's what we need to find out.

And how are you doing today,
Mr. Claypool?

I suspect more honeybee
than dragonfly.

- Excuse me?
- Lifespans.

Dragonfly is four months.
Honeybee is four weeks.

Well, so long as
you don't go mayfly on me...

...we won't have a problem.

Are you new?
Or have I just forgotten you?

- You haven't forgotten me.
- Oh, well, give it time.

My mind, it's like a computer
with a corrupted file system.

I know I want to remember something
and I go to open the file

and then it's just gone.

And then, the next thing I know,

memories come flooding back
and out of me like a loon.

Including a few
that really shouldn't.

And what memories are those?

Mr. Claypool?

Have you hard-coded
the essential values?

I'm sorry?

We must check the database
after every operation.

Excuse me, Doctor... "Moore."

I haven't seen you
on this floor before.

That's because
I haven't been here before.

I just transferred in.

- From where?
- New York General.

What's your specialty?

Clinical oncology
and palliative care. What's yours?

- Let me know if you need anything.
- Sure.

Finch, Claypool has a government
security detail.

What did you say his job was?

IT consultant.
I realize that's somewhat vague.

Maryland address, vague job title,
security detail...

I'd say he's got
top-secret clearance or better.

He said his tumor was causing
memories to flood out of him,

including some that shouldn't.

Could be someone's planning
on shutting him up for good.

His security detail is using
a three-man wedge formation.

- Meaning what?
- Meaning they're Secret Service.

Finch, who the hell is this guy?

Are they sparrows, Dad?

Oh, close.

Tell you what.

You help me with the truck

- and I'll help you with the birds.
- Okay.

Engine's flooded and I can't
for the life of me figure out why.

Where's the socket wrench?
I had it right here in my hand.

Um, Dad?

I don't know where my head is lately.

Here, you want to try one?

Don't lose it.

Gonna need every piece.

Nothing in here
that doesn't have a reason to be.

Except the dirt.

I'll get that.

Sorry, took longer than I...

Look.

I'll be damned.

But you're not supposed
to take things apart like that.

You understand, Harold?

Well, if they don't want you
to get inside...

...they ought to build them better.

Okay, son.
You held up your end.

You still want to know
what kind of bird that is?

Any progress, Ms. Shaw?

Claypool's security detail
won't leave his side.

You find out anything more
on your end?

No.
His minimal digital footprint

tends to support your idea that he
did secret work for the government,

but it also makes it
exceedingly difficult

to determine the true nature
of any threat.

Well, I can get rid
of the guard dogs.

I just need a gallon
of anything flammable.

- What?
- Oh, relax. We're in a hospital.

Ms. Shaw, I'm sure there are ways
to get to Claypool

that do not involve
any kind of combustion.

Fine.
But I'll need a partner.

You could be
a hospital administrator.

I'm afraid I'm unable to do that.

Ms. Groves is requiring
additional supervision at the moment.

Hang on.
Uh, Claypool has a visitor.

A woman, looks to be about his age.
Tall, brown hair.

Like this?

Yes.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

- Diane Claypool.
- His wife.

Records show they've been married
a little over 20 years.

- No. No. Stop!
- Honey, please.

Wait, how did you get in here?
How did you get in here?

Patient's in distress.
Step aside.

- He's not in distress, just confused.

- What do you want?
- Nothing! I'm just here to see you.

I don't understand wh...
No, no, you... I don't...

You don't have any authority
to be here.

I can't listen to you
because this is a secure floor

- and you don't have SCI clearance.
- You are not at work.

Arthur, please, just look around.
You are in a hospital room.

First of all, who do you think
you are to talk to me this way?

I'm Diane.
I'm your wife.

You just don't remember.

No. No.

Uh...

I don't have time for these games.
I am on a deadline.

- I have to fix it.
- Fix what?

Samaritan. It has to be
operational before they can...

Okay, that's enough.

Samaritan?
What are you talking about, Arthur?

They don't think I know
what they're gonna do

but I actually do know
what they're gonna do.

They want to kill it
but I will not let them.

- I have taken precautions.
- Just take it easy, Mr. Claypool.

He is not deceived
who knows himself to be deceived.

Excuse me.
I'll be back.

- Finch, did you hear that?
- That seems to answer the question

of whether Claypool
worked for the government.

Yeah, on something called Samaritan?

The name is familiar.
I'll see what I can dig up.

Well, I don't think I'll be getting
close to Claypool anytime soon.

But I can get
to the next best thing.

It's no Starbucks
but it gets the job done.

I hadn't really noticed.

I'm sorry about the scene back there.

On...

Compared to what I'm used to,
it's nothing.

I don't know how you do it.
Me, I hate hospitals.

And now it seems
it's where I spend all my time.

- When was he diagnosed?
- About a year ago.

The signs were all there.

I just didn't want to see them.

He was getting lost
in the neighborhood.

He had a change in...
his temperament.

Mrs. Claypool, do you know of anyone
who'd want to hurt your husband?

Arthur?

He was... is the most gentle man.
Why would you ask?

- His security detail.
- Oh, them. No.

They're just here
because of where he worked.

- And where was that?
- The National Security Agency.

He would not want me
to tell you that,

but I don't really see the point
in hiding it anymore.

Your husband must be
a pretty important guy.

I wouldn't know.

He never talked to me about his work,
so I finally just stopped asking

and then... we kind of stopped
talking altogether.

Talking's overrated.

I mean,
that must have been really hard.

Not as hard as realizing the person
you spent half your life with

doesn't even know
who you are anymore.

And I suppose
that's why I keep coming back here.

Just on the hope that Arthur
will remember who I am,

even for a moment
and if he does, I'm gonna be there.

I'm sorry.

Um...
I should get back to work.

- His security detail is gone.
- And Claypool?

Excuse me. Where is the patient
that was assigned to this room?

Oh, he was taken to Radiology.

Finch, Claypool's wife said
he was NSA.

That fits.
I knew I'd heard Samaritan before.

It was a classified NSA project.

Congress de-funded
and then shut it down in 2005,

which is clearly the time
Claypool is living in.

Well, if Claypool was career NSA,

then he'd be read in on all sorts
of top-secret information.

Information he's now shouting
for anyone to hear.

Well, I can think of about
15 foreign intelligence agencies

that would kill for that intel.

That occurred to me as well.

As did the possibility
that the threat may be

from his own security detail.

To protect the government's secrets.

You need to get close to him.

Easier said than done.

- Okay, I'm in.
- Be careful, Ms. Shaw.

I have no backup
that I can send you.

Well, then, I'll be quick.

- Relax, Mr. Claypool.
- Wait a minute.

- A syringe in the trashcan?
- Claypool would have been injected

with a radio tracer prior
to his scan.

It's Sodium Pentothal.

- Who has them?
- Rudy.

And where is Rudy?

This isn't a scan.
It's an interrogation.

- Is everything all right?
- No.

Whoever the threat against Claypool is,
they're already here.

Freeze!
Don't move.

- Ms. Shaw?
- So much for being quick.

What you building there, son?

It's an array
of floating gate transistors,

configured as a series of NAND gates.

It's a memory system.
Watch.

D? A?

- D?
- Now, just watch this.

"Dad."
I'm making you a memory

to help you remember stuff
like turning off the stove

and if I keep working on it,
I think I can make it

so it can remember
all the things that you can't.

Now, we talked about this.

I mean, what's wrong with me
can't be fixed by you

or by anybody else, okay?

But what if I build a machine
with lots of memory,

one that could think?

Well, even if you could,

even if you could fill it
with all my memories,

it still wouldn't be me.

You know, not everything
that's broken was meant to be fixed.

You understand?

- Hello.
- Ms. Shaw?

I figured it was you.
How'd you find me?

I triangulated the phone nearest
to your last GPS signal.

- Where are you?
- Locked in an office.

Easton took my guns and phone.

I assumed as much,
which is why I've relocated

to better monitor the situation.

- You're here?
- I'm in the parking lot.

Good. While I figure out
a way out of this,

you can keep an eye on Claypool.

Um, I think it best if I remain here
and try to identify who drugged him.

- Finch, why... J?
- Oh, I found something.

The woman posing
as the imaging technician,

she avoided the cameras
by wearing a hat on the way out

but before that, she logged
into the Imaging Room's computer.

An "Elizabeth Ross."

We need to find out what she was
interrogating Claypool about.

I couldn't tell.

I just heard him say the name "Rudy."

Dr. Moore.
Or whatever your name is.

Please.

Whoever put this identity together
for you

really knew what they were doing.

Which brings me to my next questions.

Who are you, and what do you want
with Arthur Claypool?

Hello, Lionel.

Finch send you?

He's worried about you.
Hell, we all are.

How'd you find me?

What do you think, I won
my detective shield in a poker game?

Glasses helped a little.

Go home, Detective.

- Lionel...
- I heard you.

You know what?
This is a public place.

I've got just as much right
to be here as you.

Fine.

But if you're gonna sit here,
you're gonna drink and not talk.

- You understand?
- Fine by me.

Whiskey. Double.

Bourbon and soda.
Hold the bourbon.

So what agency do you work with?
FSB? MSS?

You're wasting your time.
You should be protecting Claypool.

That tech dosed him
with Sodium Pentothal.

How would you know
something like that?

The same way you would,
if you'd have done any real field work.

You know, I can make things
very unpleasant for you.

"Unpleasant?"

Oh, you Service boys are so polite.

Look, whoever came after Claypool
didn't get what they want.

They will try again.

You all right there, Dudley?
You don't look so good.

Finch? Any chance you spiked
the Secret Service guy's fried rice?

- No.
- Then we have a problem.

Indeed. I think I've identified
the threat to Claypool.

As a longtime employee of the NSA,

he'd be a prime target
for anyone obsessed

with exposing the government's
secret surveillance operations.

And then I remembered
the technician's name.

Elizabeth Ross.

A name shared with a hero
of the Revolutionary War,

more commonly known as Betsy Ross.

Revolutionary War? I'll give you
one guess who that might be.

Vigilance.
And they're here.

It's Collier.

Doctor?
Why do you have a gun?

- What happened to his guards?
- We have to go.

Why?

Because there are people
coming after your husband.

- What kind of people?
- The kind you need a gun for.

Grab his clothes.
Mr. Claypool. Wake up.

- What?
- You need to come with us, sir.

- Why? Where are we going?
- Uh, to a nicer room.

- No, I don't want a nicer room.
- Sir, sir, you really need to get up.

Just listen to her.
Just listen to what she tells you.

Who are you?
What are you doing with my clothes?

Let go of me, both of you,
or I'll have you removed!

- He won't come with me, Harold.
- Please calm down.

- Harold, I...
- Arthur, come on.

- We need to leave.
- Harold?

That's right.

Finally, somebody I recognize.

- How long has it been?
- Quite sometime.

Sandra's parents
are going out of town.

Kegs flowing.

What about you, Harold?
You coming?

When was the last time
they changed that sign?

Why would they need to?

Exactly. Paris has a population
of nine million.

Who cares?
You can't get to Paris from Lassiter.

I'll take you to Paris.

Holy crap. How'd you do that?

Dude, that was way too much fun
to be legal.

Harold.
I need you to come with me.

It's about your dad.

So you two know each other?

Oh, Harold and I
go all the way back to MIT.

The mighty engineers, huh?

You should have seen us
two young Turks

at the dawn of the information age.

We were gonna shape the future,
remember, Harold?

- I do.
- Yes, but so do I.

You're limping.
Are you hurt?

No, it's just an old injury
that never healed quite right.

This way.

You know, Harold was
the most brilliant of all of us.

If anybody
was going to change the world,

we knew it would be him.

You know, what did you end up doing?

I mean,
what's your field of expertise?

Insurance.

He's got a gun!

Who are those people?
Why are they shooting at us?

- What do they want?
- You, Arthur.

Me?
What did I do to them?

Okay, you'll be safe here
while I make arrangements

to get you both out of harm's way.

Harm's way?
Why, are we in danger?

Oh, yes, the gun people.
What was that all about?

- Your job, Arthur.
- My job?

You did work for the NSA?

- Not in front of her.
- Arthur.

- Yes, I worked for them.
- I expect the people shooting at us

knew that as well.
They're not trying to kill you, Arthur,

at least not until they get
information from you.

What information?

When you were being scanned
at the hospital,

the technician asked
you who had them.

- Them.
- And you answered, "Rudy."

- I did?
- Who were you talking about?

Uh... Um...

- I don't know. I'm sorry.
- That's all right.

Why don't you rest?

Harold, what do you have to do
with all this?

I just heard that you might be
in some trouble.

Come on, let's get you settled.

You really shouldn't stand
so close to the windows.

Who are you people?

We're the ones keeping you
and your husband safe.

What about his security detail?

Shouldn't the Secret Service
know we're here?

Right now, the only people I trust
are in this room.

You feeling better?

Harold, do you recall
"Arise, Ye Sons of MIT?"

Oh, I...

John's gonna be sorry he missed that.

Now, Arthur, what was Samaritan?

Arthur?

Oh, Samaritan is truly
a remarkable project.

You say it is remarkable.
Tell me about it.

Its primary function is to detect
potential acts of terror

through analysis of large data sets.

Specifically, it'll have the ability
to anticipate acts of aggression

and suggest strategic
countermeasures

before the perpetrators can act.

It sounds like quite a project.

Oh, Samaritan is revolutionary.

Not so much for what it does
but how it does it.

The system was designed
to function autonomously,

to continually adapt and upgrade
itself through past experiences.

You're saying that
it can remember and learn.

Yes. Harold,
it's what we always dreamed of.

Samaritan is a true
artificial intelligence.

You're right, Arthur.
That is remarkable. Excuse me.

Is he talking about
what I think he's talking about?

It would appear so.

But...

- But then that would mean...
- That there was a second machine.

And Arthur built it.

Copy that. I found Harold,

- and I'm taking them both home now.
Ten-four.

Son, he wandered half a mile away
from home tonight.

What happens when
it drops below zero?

If you're stretched past the point
where you can give him what he needs,

maybe it's time
to find a place that can.

I'm sorry, son.

I don't know
why this keeps happening.

I forget who people are.
Where I am.

- It's okay, Dad.
- No, it's not.

You have greatness in you, Harold.

Your mind,
the things that you can see...

- it's not... Dad...
- And it's wasted here.

You should be heading off
to college,

not taking care of an old man.

I'm not going anywhere.

And besides, they're building
a computer network right now

that's going to connect
all the universities in the country.

If I can't leave town,
I'll bring the information to me.

I'll find a way.

Careful, son.
Don't be reckless.

Don't get yourself
into something you shouldn't.

If they don't want you to get inside,
they ought to build it better.

Well...
- Come on.

This machine you built, Arthur.

Samaritan.
Where is it now?

Nowhere.

Samaritan was destroyed
years ago: 2005.

Destroyed?
Why?

Well, after 9/11 the government
had everyone and their cat

trying to build a system
that could watch everything.

- They came to you as well.
- Yes.

I told them the only way
they could achieve what they wanted

was to build something
that not only watched

but understood what it was watching.

An AI.

I know you always said
artificial intelligence

was a fool's errand, Harold, but...

...I was this close.

- Close?
- To making Samaritan operational.

Truth is, I couldn't get it to work.

I mean, I could've,
if those pinhead bureaucrats

would have just given me
a few more weeks.

I know I could have cracked it.

And that's when Congress
shut you down.

Well, not just us.
All the programs.

Stellar Wind, Tides, Genysis,
Futuremap, Genoa.

Within six months,
they were all gone.

They came for Samaritan
February 25th, 2005.

"For fear of violating
civil liberties," or so they said.

And you thought
there was another reason.

The government
wanted a system, Harold.

They weren't just gonna give up.

They let Congress shut us down,

all except for that piece of crap,
Prism.

But that was just
to throw anyone off the scent.

- Of what?
- They'd already found it.

Someone else had got there first.

And built it.

When I said "drink",
I didn't mean club soda.

Finch appoint you to be
my designated driver, too?

No, smart guy. I'm two years sober.

Why?

Because back when I was doing
a lot of stupid things,

drinking was one of them.

And then this jackass in a suit
showed up on my backseat

and forced me at gunpoint to help him
and take a look at who I was.

Why'd I quit drinking?
You.

Don't let it go to your head.

Another.

What do you think,
you're the only one that's hurting?

My partner got shot.
So tell me how hiding out

in your old man's watering hole
is gonna fix it.

I saw the sign for the army base
about five miles back.

I thought maybe this was
where you were stationed.

Until I saw the picture.
And the resemblance.

My dad was here
before he was deployed to Vietnam.

Did four tours.

- He was a bona fide war hero.
- Was he killed in action?

No.
At the refinery where he worked.

- Hadn't even been home two months.
- That's rough.

But what's that have to do
with what happened to Carter?

Nothing.

Just proves that no matter
what we do or don't do in this world,

bad things are still gonna happen.

It's... pointless.

Irrelevant.

How can you say that?

You saved lots of people,
including me.

You're saying that was pointless?

All right.
Let's go.

I'm not leaving.

I wasn't talking about leaving.

- I'm not gonna fight you, Lionel.
- Hey!

Come on.

Come on.

Okay, that should do it.

This time tomorrow,
Arthur and Diane Claypool

will be Henry and Elaine McCarthy.

I have also arranged a room
for Arthur at a Toronto hospital.

We'll leave first thing
in the morning.

- If there's anything I can do...
- Enough!

I'm sorry,
I was just trying to talk to him.

Who are you?
Why don't you just leave me alone?

- Arthur, it's okay.
- No. And you can't keep me here.

- The truth fears no questions.
- Arthur, it's me, Harold.

- Harold?
- And this is Diane, your wife.

How come I remember you and not her?

Because tumors do mysterious things
to memory.

- No.
- It's like you said.

- Your file system is corrupted.
- No. That's not it.

I remember Diane.

Diane is dead.

I buried her two years ago,
on June 12th, 2011.

- You do remember.
- Go.

I suppose this was inevitable.

And seeing as how time
is a luxury we no longer have.

Hersh.

Perimeter is secure, ma'am.

"Ma'am?"
He works for you?

As did you at one time, Agent Shaw.

I assume you always
wanted to meet me.

Control.

I was concerned
that you might disrupt

my attempts to get close to Arthur.

However,
you proved to be quite useful,

saving him from those misguided
privacy terrorists

and arranging it so I could
meet your employer,

who I've heard so much about.

By the way, I didn't catch
your last name, Harold.

What is it that you want from Arthur?

Just information.

The location of his greatest
achievement, Samaritan.

Samar... No.
Samaritan was destroyed.

I know the official story, Arthur.
I also know about the drives.

So... where are they?

I don't know
what you're talking about.

All right, stop it.
He's telling you the truth.

- He doesn't know.
- I'll find out soon enough.

And since you and I have had
the good fortune of meeting,

you can help me recover
something else that belongs to me.

- Your greatest achievement.
- Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that.

One of you is gonna tell me
what it is I wanna know.

And whoever does...

...will be the one
who gets to leave here.

Alive.
Ripped By mstoll