All language subtitles for Alcatraz - 1x04 - Cal Sweeney.HDTV.LOL.en

Previously on Alcatraz...

The 63s.

The worst criminals
this country has ever known

are coming back.

Grandfather wasn't a guard,
he was an inmate.

[Grunts, screams]

(Rebecca) That's him.

He killed my partner.
Police!

(Rebecca)
So we have to find these 63s.

We need to find who took them.

[Police siren wails]
Where have you been

for the past 50 years?

I don't know.

May I help you, sir?

Good morning, Amanda.

I'd like to pay a visit
to my safety deposit box.

Absolutely.

Follow me, please.

Mmm.
We have to hurry.

Those are turned off, hmm?

You think I want
my boss seeing us?

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mmm.
[Panting]

[Gasps]

[Muffled cries]

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

[Series of clinks,
then jingles on the floor]

Oh, hello there.

What's your story?

[Loud clack]

[Jingling]

[Gun clacks]

Wait! Wait!

[Muted cry]

Please.

Don't.
I have a family.

Please don't!

[Muffled gunshot]

Pay attention, kid,

'cause I'm only going
over this once.

Oh, I'm at full attention,
Mr. Sweeney.

I'm totally focused
on the task at hand.

Prison laundry...
be it an

army, warden, guard
or inmate...

comes to us through
those chutes over there.

Now, you'll find
the pockets of dirty trousers

and the folds of soiled seats

serve as a conveyance
to incoming contraband,

which is delivered to inmates

in their weekly pickup.

Batter up, kid.

I'm a little short
on currency at the moment.

Any chance I could pony up
next week?

Yeah, it's no problem, Pinkner.

Course next week,
price triples.

Some business
you're running, Sweeney.

Whatever happened
to catering to the customer?

You really going
to charge him triple?

Damn right.

And triple the week after that.

Look, this may look simple
to you.

But I take the risks...
So I call the shots.

Moment I let some con
float on credit,

and not gouge him
for the privilege

of doing business...

He sees me as weak.

Starts thinking that maybe
he can call the shots.

So you have to be tough.

No emotion, kid.

It's how you gotta be.

You can't care
about anyone or anything.

Moment they see a soft spot,

they got you
by the short hairs.

[Buzz]
[Door clacks open]

You want to be my protege,

it's lesson number one.

Well, I've learned it,
Mr. Sweeney.

Committed it to memory.

Fake a bellyache, Sweeney.

Your cell's being tossed.

Tiller?

[Clink]

Where is it?

[Rattle]

Where is it!

I need to talk
to Mr. Tiller.

Ni hao, Rebecca.

Good morning, Lilly.
How are you? Good.

How are you?
Good, thanks.

Uh, two of everything.

And double down on the...

[Lists food items in chinese]

Okay.

Nothing says breakfast
like stuffed Fluffy buns.

Enjoy.

So, I have to ask...

how does someone
who's got two PhDs

end up with a comic book store?

If I tell you, can we
go someplace with syrup?

[Laughs]

I got the degrees
to appease my parents,

but I got blacklisted

for publishing
a major breakthrough

in crime-prevention theory

for the National Journal
of Criminology.

And that's frowned upon
by the academic community?

It is if your
urban statistical model's

based on Gotham City.

Batman?
Thanks. I know that one.

So you get yourself humiliated

rather than quit
and face your parents?

Pretty close to adorable.

It's a complicated relationship.
[Cell phone rings]

Madsen.

We're on our way.

Someone hit
the safety deposit boxes

at Colonial Liberty.

Did they hit the vault too?

No, just the boxes.
Why?

Holy cow.
Cal Sweeney.

Okay, who's Cal Sweeney?

(Soto)
A-Z-2-1-1-2.

Hit over 20 banks
in the late '50s.

He'd rob
the safety deposit boxes.

If everything went smooth,
he wouldn't hurt a fly.

Bank manager
must have surprised him.

Have any idea why
he clips the boxes

and he doesn't take
the tons of cash

sitting three feet
away from him?

In the '50s, everybody
kept their valuables

in safety deposit boxes.

Cash and bonds
are FDIC insured...

boxes aren't.

So it's just destruction
of property.

Not a federal crime.
No FBI.

It's actually pretty smart.

Six boxes were hit,

but there was no attempt
to access the vault.

What kind of weapon does this?

A captive bolt pistol.

It's used to kill cattle
in slaughterhouses.

Surveillance cameras
are turned off.

(Rebecca) So he had help.

I met him at a grocery store.

We had the same frozen dinner
in our carts,

and he started talking to me...

About all kinds of things.

Then he just smiled.

"You know, when your eyes
look at someone else's...

To hell with
the chicken Alfredo."

He said that.

Then he asked if I would go
to dinner with him,

right there
in the freezer aisle.

Did you ever go to his house?

We always went to my place.

His house was having work done.

He have a car?
Yeah.

But it was in the shop.

That's not the truth, is it?

He gave me this.

Said it was his grandmother's.

Told me a whole story.

Thank you.

He conned her.

You said Cal hit a bank

two days ago.
According to the newspaper.

So he spent two days
pawning what he stole.

We should send a list
of all the stolen items

to every pawnshop
and broker in the area.

We can catch him
when he tries to cash them in.

Banks don't keep track
of what people keep

in their safety deposit boxes.

Yeah, but the owners will know.

[Doorbell rings]

Yes.

Mr. Bailey...
Peter Carr,

Colonial Liberty Bank.

I have some unfortunate news.

Your safety deposit box
was robbed this morning.

Robbed?

If I could get a list
of the stolen items,

we can get started
on the insurance claim.

Come on in.

(Hauser) On march 21, 1963,

Alcatraz officially closed.

[Thunder rumbling]

All the prisoners
were transferred off the island.

Only that's not what happened.

Not at all.

[Cell door clattering closed]

Sync and corrections by APOLLO
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in addition to your will

and the deed to your house,

were there any personal items?

Yes, a sapphire necklace.

And can you describe it?

It was a platinum necklace
that held a sapphire.

And who did the necklace
belong to?

My wife.
I gave it to her

for our 25th
wedding anniversary.

The blue sapphire...
did it have any...

Special significance?

It was her birthstone.

Why?

Where did you two meet?

I'm sorry?

I'm asking...

Where you met your wife.

Why do you need to know that
for our insurance forms?

I don't.

I need to know for me.

I'm calling the bank.

[Screams]

What I want is the story...

The story that makes this
necklace so important to you.

[Groans]

And that story begins...

With where you met your wife.

I like it nice and close,
silver.

I see you got my invitation.

You tossed my cell.

Some people leave flowers.

Others, a mint on a pillow.

I toss cells.

Occupational hazard.

Where is it?
Where is what?

You stole something
from my cell...

small metal box.
I'd like it back.

No idea what
you're talking about.

So why am I here?

I want a piece
of your operation.

The Warden tends
to look the other way

when it comes
to the smaller vices

and minor infractions.

If it were up to me,

I'd run this place
on the up and up.

But it ain't.

So in the meantime,
you're getting squeezed.

You know what stops
these animals

from killing each other?

Enlighten me.

The smaller vices.

So until I get my box back...

Consider me closed
for business.

Now you're going
to see what happens

when 300 nosebleeds
don't get their extra salt

and cigarettes.
[Scrapes]

You know the secret
to a good, hot shave?

You have to draw the razor
with the grain of the whiskers,

so everything ends up
nice and smooth.

When you go against the grain,

that's when you get nicked.

Take him back to his cell.

You ever see a dog lay down
and show it's belly

to another dog?

That's that dog's way of saying

that the bigger dog
is in charge.

I let Tiller get away
with taking my box.

He can rip my belly open,
invite the whole pack

to chew on it until
there's nothing left.

What if you could talk
to Tiller

someplace private?
Someplace a deal

wouldn't cost a loss of face?

Should I invite him for tea?

[Squeak]

There's a party
tomorrow night for Tiller.

At the Warden's house, no less.

If you could pull
Steward's duty.

Steward's duty
is top-shelf employment.

Red... the guy who
usually works with me...

I'm sure that...

He would fake an ailment...

For a carton of smokes.

Now...

Now you're showing me
something, kid.

All right, last house.

Hmm.

What?

Nothing.
It's just...

Wills, deeds,
birth certificates

most of it's just legal stuff.

Looks like safety deposit boxes

aren't for the gold-bars-
and-uncut-diamonds crowd

anymore.

Hi!

Can I help you?
Yes.

Does a Mr. William Bailey
still live here?

That's my husband.

Is everything all right?

His safety deposit box
was robbed.

We just need to ask him
a few questions.

Okay.

Will!

Will, honey?

Will!

[Screams] Will!

No!

[Screams] No!

No!

Wine glass at the top.

Champagne and Sherry

to form a small triangle.

You got it?

Yeah, let's just say I do.

You, uh, remember your role

in our upcoming farce?

I say I do.

And I do.

Here comes king screw himself.

We've traversed the globe

for unsurpassed finery,
haven't we, gents?

Let's give E.B.
A birthday he'll never forget.

[Footfall]

[Vivaldi's
the four seasons plays]

Sterling flatware from Spain,

Bone China from England,
hand-woven linens from...

Who's that?

That's Tiller's gimp sister.

She lives with him.

Struts her out once a year,
on his birthday.

Geri, you're a portrait
of loveliness.

I wanted to wear
my birthday suit,

in honor of Elijah.

But he's such a prude.
Nice spread, Warden.

No expense too great
for my finest big day.

Shall we?

(Warden James)
Dr. Beauregard

is this the first
you're meeting Dr. Singupta?

The psychologist whose praises
you have sung and spoken?

Is this the vision
I see before me?

So what's your specialty,
Mrs. "Sin-gup-ee"?

Dr. Singupta.

In addition to my M.D.,

I have a post-doc
in Clinical Psychology.

An M.D. too...
well, well.

My nose might come to bleeding
in such rarefied air.

(Tiller) You'll have your
work cut out for you here.

Most of these animals
are just wired bad.

Instinct and impulse...

they're as far
from inner feelings

as we are from the moon.

Inner feelings are of a
secondary importance to me.

When it comes
to deviant behavior,

the "wiring," as you
so aptly put it,

lies in their memories...

specifically,
traumatic memories

that give rise to these
instincts and impulses.

If I can remove
the traumatic memories

and leave a more soothing one
in its place,

we might be able to correct
or adjust their behavior...

in essence, "rewire" them.

Removing memories?

Sounds like magic to me.

As did the discovery of fire
to the caveman, no doubt.

(Warden James) The Royal
College Journal of Medicine

published
Dr. Singupta's findings,

which showed great promise
in rats.

Oh, I work with rats myself.

Though usually
I just sew 'em up,

give them a piece of cheese,

and send them back
to their cells.

[Laughter]

You hear that?

Now they want
to take our memories too.

[Rattling]

[Slam]

(Rebecca) Cal Sweeney's box.

That's all he's got?

Looks like it was in a fire.

What does it say about you
if the sum total of your life

is an empty tin box?

This better be worth
the interruption.

(Rebecca) We ran the owners
of the safety deposit boxes

from Sweeney's first robbery
two days ago.

This is Leonard Shore.

He was found dead at his home
later that same day.

He took one of those bolt pistol
things through the forehead

just like Mr. Bailey.

Cops chalked it up
to a home invasion.

It looks like he's picking
one customer from each robbery

and paying them a visit.

He do this in the past?
Go after the box owners?

No. He just sold everything
and moved on to the next bank.

He's already got the items.
What's he looking for?

Any connection
between the victims?

No, and we sent a list
of the stolen items

to every pawnshop
in the country.

No hits.

Okay.
So how do we track him?

The tellers.

It's the one thing
that's stayed consistent.

Doc, can you run
the security footage

from both banks?

Run them side by side?

(Rebecca) Okay.

Both 45 to 50,

no wedding rings,

average looks...

he picked them out
specifically.

He courted them.

Walk Sweeney out.

There... same vases,
same flowers.

Zoom in,

see if we can find out
where they're from.

Mae's Flowers.

[Doorbell rings]

Can I help you?

Uh, yes.

I'm detective Madsen.

I wanted to ask you a few
questions.

Sure, no problem.

Have you seen this man?

Uh, yeah.

Oh, yeah,
always sending flowers

out to women...
different women.

Could you print out
his order history?

Uh, sure. Okay.

You know, we give special
discount to SFPD.

15%.
[Printer beeps]

There you go.

20% for you.

Looks like he sent
the same arrangement

to a third teller,
Melissa Murphy,

Heritage Bay National Bank.

That could be
Cal's next target.

[Laughs]
Oh, that's so beautiful.

What was the sapphire for,
again?

What...
what are you doing?

[Beep] [Grunts]

(Female) What's going on?

(Male) The alarm was
tripped, apparently.

(Female)
Why can't we leave the bank?

(Guard) Sorry, folks.
Just sit tight.

Honey, come on.
Let's wait over here.

I'm sorry sir,
but we need everyone

to stay inside.

[Groans]

[Grunts] Ah!

Oh!

[Police siren wails]

[Gun cocks]

[Screaming]

Everybody get down!

Call for backup!

Get down! Move.

Move! Move! Move!

Oh, this doesn't look good.

[Sweeney yelling indistinctly]

Damn it.

It's Madsen.

Yeah, we've got a big problem.

[Laughter]

[Vivaldi's the four seasons
plays on stereo]

[Clinks wine glass]

I believe short words

best mark an occasion,

lest we give in to temptation

that paints our fellow man
with brushstrokes more grandiose

than the canvas
of the evening may warrant.

In this case, however,

I believe such praise
is surely entitled.

To E.B.

Right.

[Paper rustling]

"Beneath the rule
of men entirely great,

the pen is mightier
than the sword."

And though I'm certain
most of us

would take great exception
to such a lofty ideal,

bearing witness to the reality
behind these walls,

I have always believed
the vessel in which a man

releases his thoughts

is apt to carry influence
over them.

Thank you.
I'll keep that in mind.

Ah!
You idiot!

So sorry, sir.

We all make mistakes, son.

Get your damn hands off me.

Elijah!
E.B.

Sorry.
Fine.

I've got it.
Excuse me.

Spill away, young man.

Only as long as you're
willing to pat me dry.

[Laughter]

[Door shuts]

You here to help
with my zipper?

20%...

I get my box back. 50.

30.

50.

And you should be overjoyed
I'm letting you keep

anything at all.

You can always crown another rat
to take over your operation.

50%.

Now give me my box.

I told you, I don't have it.

[Grunts]

[Gurgling] Where is it?

[Gasps] I don't have it.

[Gurgling] Give me my box.

Uhh!

Aah!

[Muffled screaming]

Aah!

[Grunts]

Gahh!

You stay here until
the party's over.

Someone will come
and take you back to your cell.

Assuming you don't bleed out
in the night...

[Grunting] Tomorrow you
go straight to the hole.

30 days.

Double if you open your mouth.

(All) ♪ for he's
a jolly good fellow ♪

[Door shuts] ♪ for he's a
jolly good fellow ♪

♪ for he's
a jolly good fellow... ♪

[Sirens]

Okay, Sweeney's inside.

There's about
20 to 30 hostages.

PD says he hasn't made
any demands yet.

Which means he just wants out.

And we are going to help him.
What?

I'm going to join that
jurisdictional pissing contest

over there, which'll
buy you some time...

To get inside the bank.

Got it.
Good.

(Male) Do we need to go through
this every time?

I'm putting my snipers on the roof.
No, commander, you're not.

Great, another fan
to tell us how to run things.

Chief, with all due respect,

believe me when I tell you

I have a great deal more
experience in this matter

than you do.

All right,
so how do I get in that bank?

What?
You agreed without a plan?

Uh, after the Big Quake
in 1906,

a lot of buildings went up
super fast,

almost on top of each other.

My comic book shop's

in an old bank building
like this one.

And it shares
a central air-conditioning unit

with the buildings
on either side.

Okay, so you're saying the vent

from the building next door

will pass into the bank?

Normally,
you'd trigger an alarm,

but the police will
still cover the exits.

So unless Cal's dug himself

some sort
of Hamburglar escape tunnel,

you're not going
to be able to sneak back out.

Doc, I just need you
to get me in.

Getting out's my job.

Wait, aren't you going
to need those?

If I go in Carrying,
he'll kill me.

Get out of my way.

Hey! Hey!
Wake up!

[Panting]

You listen very carefully,

all right?

You're going to help me
get out of here...

Or everybody dies.

[Grunts]

Of course.

A back exit?
Secret tunnels?

[Whimpering] Something!

They'll have
all the exits covered.

It's a shame.

It's such a pretty necklace.

[Grunts]
[Crash]

Nobody move!

Whoever's in there,

you better put your hands up.

I'm going to start
shooting hostages.

Who are you?

Rebecca Madsen.
I'm a detective

with the San Francisco
Police Department.

I'm unarmed.

Here to negotiate?

Nope.
I'm here to break you out.

[Indistinct police radio
transmission]

[Sirens]

Now why would a man
in the middle of a robbery

trust some woman with a badge?

Because I know
who you are, Cal.

Let's just say I have
an investment

in getting you out.

Yeah, and how the hell
are you going to do that, huh?

You're out of your mind?
What, you got a better idea?

'Cause any minute now
the phone's going to ring

with a hostage negotiator
telling you everything

you want to hear.

They're going
to promise you the moon

so they can buy some time
before they take the bank

and blow your head off.

[Phone rings]

So what's it gonna be?
[Phone continues ringing]

The guy only hits
safety deposit boxes.

Local police have jurisdiction.

A jurisdiction that ended

the moment he took hostages.
I've got M3 teams

ready to go,
hard cover on the roof...

you have no grounds
for a tactical response,

and you know damn well know it!
[Gunshots]

Shots fired, shots fired.

You hear those gunshots, agent?

Those are our grounds.

Take the bank.

Tactical team, you are a go.

Move up!

[Overlapping shouts]

[Shouting]

[Coughing]

Move, move.

[Overlapping shouts]

All right, on your feet.
Let's go.

[Overlapping shouts]

[Engine starts]

[Open, shuts car door]

Hey, move this bus.
Out of my way now.

[Horn honks]

Get in!
Mr. Hauser, sir.

[Tires squeal]

Bank is secure.

Target is missing.

What? Well, he's not in the bank

and he's not with the hostages.

Where'd that other FBI guy go?

Okay, you're too close now.

Stay further back, Soto.

Back!
You don't have to yell.

It's the first time
I've ever trailed someone,

so a little support
wouldn't be, you know,

totally unappreciated.

It's "tailed."

Whoo!
Not bad, Bonnie.

We make quite the pair,
you and I.

(Rebecca) Yeah, well I'm afraid
this is where we part ways.

(Sweeney) Excuse me?

Oh, I'm going to let you go
on your merry little way.

You know, alone.

Oh, no, sweetie.
You're not going anywhere.

I just broke you out of there.

Yeah, and now
you're my hostage.

[Thud]

Who gave you a license?

Last time I was behind a wheel,

I was...
you were 11.

Marvelous.

I must say he's been
following us for a while.

That somebody you know?

No.

Lose 'em.

Now!

[Turns on siren]

Okay, let her go.
Let her go.

What?
He must have spotted us.

It's her play.
We follow her lead.

[Tires screech]

Okay, let her go, Soto.

Are you sure?
Absol...

are you 100% sure?
Watch the road!

[Tires screech,
car horn blares]

Keep driving.

[Siren]

[Overlapping chatter]

[Grunts]

Hey.

How you feeling,
Mr. Sweeney?

They're coming for me soon.

I've done three and ten.

I ain't ever done 30.

But I'm sure it was worth it.

Worth what?

Well, if I lost my whole family

and everything I ever had

when I was only ten,
in a fire...

I'd sure want to hang on
to the one single thing

that didn't burn...

Even if it was
just an empty tin box.

Now don't get me wrong.

Plenty of things
in my childhood

that I'd like to forget.

But I can't imagine
not having anything.

[Laughs] Not a single picture

of a family outing or...

Christmas morning.

Not a baby book
or birthday card

or a single lock of hair.

Nothing to put
in your little tin box.

Why?

You broke the rule, Cal.

You showed your belly.

To you.

You set me up.

Heck of a protege,
don't you think?

30 days...

I'll be running things
so good...

No one'll ever remember
you were even here.

[Smash]

[Footfall]

Open 122.

So what did you take?
What?

From the bank?
What was worth all the trouble?

What's in it?

I have no idea.

So open it.

No.
I'm not supposed to.

What do you mean,
you're not supposed to?

I don't...
I don't know.

It's just...
you know what?

You stop talking.
Okay, I'll stop talking.

Turn in here and pull over.

Why? I'm going to let you out.

[Car revs, tires screech]

Hey, hey, hey!
I said pull over.

No.
No?

You know what they
didn't have in the 1950s?

Pull over now!
Seat belt laws.

[Tires screech, glass shatters]

[Clinking]

Four down and...

A hell of a lot more to go.

So, you good?

Yeah, you?

Hauser yelled at me
about my driving.

Well, thanks
for having my back.

Always.

Uh, what'd the bank say?

Sweeney only opened one box.

This is what was inside.

Whoa, that's pretty cool.

[Footfall]

I believe you have something
that doesn't belong to you.

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

We can do this the easy way
or the hard way.

Only if you tell me
what it's for.

Fine.

Some other day.

Well, that didn't work.

Guess he trusts
the scientists more than us.

We have another one.

Have the one
we got from Sylvain?

Yes, sir.

Perhaps molecular analysis can
provide some real insight...

[Beeping]

As to how the prisoners jumped.

So, what do we know?
Amalgamate.

Trace colloidals,
silver content, cold forged.

The bitting codes
are unique to both keys.

And the shafts look
to be laser-cut.

Laser?

But laser-cutting didn't exist
when the prison was open.

Right.

I want thermal imaging
of all the car doors

and tunnels on the island.

Need to find what the hell
these things open.

I mean, whatever Cal told you,

it's a lie.
A lie can't be trusted.

Where are you taking me?

To meet a friend.

Your recent palace coup
has caught the eye

of a certain
subterranean visitant...

Who desires to have a parley.

[Hinges squeak]

Your future just got a heck
of a lot brighter, kid.

Don't be shy.

Sync and corrections by APOLLO
www.addic7ed.com