All language subtitles for Scorpion - 2x03 - Fish Filet.HDTV.x264-DIMENSION.en

♪ ♪

Warden.

Inmate.

Morning, boss.

Two-pack limit
on gambling.

Yes, sir.
That's all we got.

Thank you.

♪ ♪

Gentlemen,
shut down the card game.

All right.

This is Jadlow!

Code five, C Wing,
east hallway!

Catch that game
last night?

No.
Eh, me, neither.

No.
Nah.

Listen, pal, you looking
to set a record there?

Slow it down, Speed Racer.

You're making us look bad.

You know, I'm not working
faster than anyone,

just more efficiently.

I used a clamp to split
the stream in half,

covering more surface area

without increasing
my time variable.

Right, that's
what I figured.

Anyhoo, I'm just
looking out for the team.

You know what
I'm saying, buddy?

We're not a team,

we're a court-mandated
cleanup crew.

And we're not... buddies.
I barely know you.

Well, then we
should fix that.

How about a lunch,
you and me, eat in my ride,

listen to some
Eddie Money.

No, thank you.

Rain check. I dig it.

But listen, if you need
anything, it's not my first time

on the chain gang, all right?
I know all the ins and outs,

how to change your work detail,
shave off some hours.

I just want to serve
my hours honestly

and be done with it,
so if you'll excuse me,

I need to be working.
Right on, right on.

But tomorrow--

you, me and some car-tunes.

You get it? Car tunes?

Eh.

♪
♪This is delicious.

Grilled tomato
and avocado butter.

Oh, best breakfast
burrito ever.

Got it from a magazine.

Is this song bothering you?
It's bothering me.

No, but you can put
on whatever you want.

Perhaps no music?

Maybe classical
or instrumental?

Are you okay?

You seem a little off.

No.

I just... I put all this
together and came here to...

Is it warm in here?

Sylvester.
I'm shvitzing.

I think I may be
allergic to the brie.

Sylvester.

Is there something
you want to say to me?

You know... time for me
to go to the garage,

but we can table
this conversation for later.

Table what conversation?

You haven't said
anything to me yet.

Then we will really have
a lot to catch up on next time.

See you later.

Yeah, I can meet you
at the club tonight.

Say, around 10:00?

Okay, great.
Looking forward to it.

See you then.

Hey, Happy, Toby.

How long have you
been here, Doc?

Metaphysically,
33 years.

She seemed mad.

She's mad
about someone else.

Think she's stepping out
with some guy tonight.

I'm sorry
to hear that.

Eh, I knew
she'd move on.

I didn't think so soon.

Love sucks.
You know what,

why don't you take my
mind off this, chief.

Tell me how it went dropping
the L-bomb on Megan.

Come on, man.

I thought you
were past this.

Okay, so did I, but every time
I tried to tell her,

I started to sweat,
and my chest constricted

and I couldn't breathe.

I'm telling you--
it felt like I was dying,

sincerely dying.

Yeah, I know how you feel, pal.

Let's go, guys,
morning meeting.

Ralph, pack up.
Car pool's here any minute.

Who's Jackson Wyles?

Nobody.

There's two
identical math sheets,

one with your name on it,
one with his.

Ralph, why are you doing
someone's homework for them?

To avoid injury.

That's a good reason.

Son, you can't let
yourself get bullied.

You got to stand up
for yourself.

You know how to fight?
He's not fighting.

That's the problem--
he should be.

Knock Jackson Wyles on his ass.

Nothing stops a punk faster
than a shot right to the snout.

Thanks for the
advice, but no.

I got an idea.

Ralph, don't worry,
I'm gonna set up a meeting

with your principal and this
Jackson Wyles's parents.

Involving the bully's parents

might be poking the bear.

Ralph, how fast can you run?

He's not going to run away.

He's going to face his problem.

His problem is probably
twice his size

and skilled at wedgies
and rear admirals.

And the dreaded covered wagon.

Maybe he shouldn't
be wearing underwear.

What?!

I appreciate everyone's concern,
but none of you are his mom.

I can handle this.

You can handle what?

Everything okay, Ralph?

Some kid's making Ralph
do his homework for him.

Good, that is the perfect reason
for Ralph to leave that school.

He is smarter than everyone
there, including the teachers.

The guys and I will
homeschool him from here.

Worst idea yet.

I think Toby's right.

He's always right,

or my name isn't
Paige Dineen.

Tweaked Walt's voice
adaptation software.

It'll record the basic
tone of anyone's voice,

then it perfectly mimics
whatever you type in.

And it is clearly not
the time to unveil it.

Thank God
this conversation's over.

Sweetheart, I want you
to avoid that boy today,

and I'm gonna call
Principal Pastorneck.

Don't. I can handle this.

Just give me one day.

Okay.

Love you.

Stay strong.

Hey, where are you
going, kid?

I just got
the heavy bag up.

I got to go.

You can teach me to
hit people later.

Director Molina.

To what do we owe the pleasure?

Unfortunately, it's
not a social call.

Why don't you
gather your team?

I found a confidential informant
murdered in my prison today,

and it was over these
pieces of paper.

Assume you all heard
of the federal judge

who was gunned down at midnight
in his own home last week.

Heard about it on the news.

This got something
to do with that?

Yes, the Japanese gang Eh-Ta-Me
has been running operations

out of Harrison Prison
for years.

My dead CI, member of the
gang in question, advised me

that the hit on that judge
was going down a month ago.

As we were verifying
his information,

judge was killed.

Information verified.

Same CI handed me these three
slips of paper yesterday.

He's part of the chain
that illegally transports

gang messages out of Harrison.

You can't read this gibberish,

only top-level gang
leaders are fluent in it.

But he overheard that these are
the names of three more judges

to be assassinated
by midnight tonight.

Believe it's in retaliation
for harsh sentences

handed down in past months to
high-level gang lieutenants.

We won't know who's next
if we can't decipher this code.

Can't you just seclude
all the federal judges

until you know
who's being targeted?

Then every time a threat is
made, our judiciary shuts down?

It's not an option.

There are 3,000 federal judges,
eight-hour shifts per day,

two agents per shift, that means
we'd need over 20,000 agents

to provide blanket protection.

Our government doesn't have
those resources.

Considering our ticking clock, I
thought it best to come to you.

I'm desperate for help.

I was sent to Harrison three
months ago to clean it up,

but I don't know who to trust.

Even my deputy warden's suspect.

Makes $48K a year,
drives a $70,000 car.

But this is the guy.

He's keeping everyone
on his payroll.

Shima Funukoshi.

Head of the Eh-Ta-Me.

Shot-caller for the whole joint.

Shima's weak but can walk,
suffering from kidney failure.

But no one messes with this guy.

Hydraulic lifts,
nubuck leather seats

with handcrafted stitching?

His chair's nicer
than Walter's car.

And his code
is no less impressive.

Bilingual,
alpha-numeric language

with symbolic interface.

For encryption
this complex,

there needs to be
a user manual somewhere.

to decipher these messages,
because this code is a beast.

I searched every inch
of the prison

to find any clue that might shed
light on these communications,

but I couldn't find a thing.

Have you checked the library?

'Cause he didn't take out

any books for six years,

and then he took out
over 20 over the course

of two weeks a few months back.

A manual in someone's cell
would be easy to find,

but hidden in the pages
of library books...

I noticed the
checkout activity too,

and I poured through
every book he read,

and I didn't find anything
that looked like this.

Well, no offense,

but you may have missed
something one of us would see.

A reference to certain symbols
equating certain letters.

Underline.

A dot above a number.

A circled word.

It would take a
computer-like brain

to identify a manual
as camouflaged as this.

If you brought us the books,
we could work on it immediately.

I got over 200 personnel
working in Harrison,

any of whom can be
in Shima's pocket.

If just one of them realizes

that I'm checking out
scores of textbooks...

sets off an alarm.

If they realize that
I'm photocopying the books...

sets off an alarm.

If Shima or one
of his boys realizes

the books are missing...

Wait, I know this one.

Sets off an alarm.

Shima finds out,

changes his code,

the location of the manual,

goes back to
taking out judges.

So the books have to stay
in the library.

But we still need to get
genius eyes on them.

Not any genius eyes.

Eyes that can report
visuals to a brain

that can memorize
reams of data.

Uh... no.

A brain that spots patterns
others don't see

and decrypt code
faster than anyone.

Amusement parks, fun houses,

a store near my home
called "Le Sexy Hutch,"

and theme restaurants--

all places I will not
voluntarily walk into,

but number one on
my list is prisons.

Let me present you
with another circumstance.

Three judges are dead by morning
you could have helped.

I know you, you can't carry
that on your conscience.

If you need to find
a reason to do it, Sly,

do it for selfish reasons.

Do it for yourself.

It won't stay on
if you don't stop sweating.

Your record's been
input into the prison system.

Psychotic serial killer, sadism,
torture, multiple counts.

We just need a name
for this psychopath.

Jackson Wyles.

Clinically speaking,
he looks like a psycho.

What's your jacket?

I... I think it's polyester.

In prison, your jacket
is your rap sheet, okay?

Let's-let's try this again.

Yo, you got beef?

You mean, like lunch meat?

This molar cap's
a transmitter and a receiver.

The jaw bone sends
sound waves to your inner ear.

No one will hear but you.

And you know how
to implant this, right?

Would you relax?
I went to med school.

Not dental school, though.

Oh. Oh, God.

I tapped into the prison's
security cameras,

we can see you from here,

we can control when the guards
see you on their monitors.

We'll be with you
the whole time.

You get in, find the code's
manual, memorize it,

the warden brings you back,
90 minutes tops.

I'm the only one who knows
who you really are.

I'm the only one
who matters.

You'll be fine.

Inmate number 984325J,
Jackson Wyles.

Ready for gen pop.

I'll walk him in.

Want him to know
we don't tolerate nonsense.

Go in looking like
this, you're dead.

Remember, you're
a killer.

I'm-I'm a killer.

They should be
scared of you.

You got to stare
'em right through.

Breathe a bit
through your mouth.

Like a predator.

Yeah. There you go.

Now you go settle
into your cell,

and I'll bring you
to the library shortly.

You can do this.

I can do this.

Yeah.

I can't do this.

W-w-wait.

Oh, boy.

♪ Scorpion 2x03 ♪
Fish Filet
Original Air Date on October 5, 2015

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Sir. Anything you need
from the library?

Just making the rounds.

I have a library pass.

You new here, fish?

I have a library pass.

That's not smooth, Sylvester.

I'm trying to stay alive.

I'm not worried about smooth.

If you don't pass
as the real deal,

you won't stay alive.

Be supportive.
What is more supportive

than wanting someone
to stay alive?

Sylvester, are you finding
anything in those texts?

Nothing yet.
The warden was right.

There's nothing here.

There's got to be something.
You're missing it.

The books are pristine.

There's not a mark on them.

Hold on...

I know that tone.

That's his
"I found something" tone.

What do you see, kid?

More like what don't I see.

It's a diagram
of the human body

with no organs in it.

But there are ridges
in the spine,

pieces of acetate.

Those books are
a med school staple.

You lay over one acetate page

that shows the digestive tract,

another page
lays in the heart.

Four or five pages,
you get all the major organs.

Two shelves down:

Annals of Urban
Infrastructure-- 713.01.

Next, Waynecroft's
Veterinary Sciences--

636.089.

All right. Acetate has been
ripped from Gray's Anatomy,

The Life Cycle of Plants,

and The History of
the Combustion Engine.

The warden was right.

There's-there's nothing dubious

about what was in those books.

What is suspect
is what's been taken from them.

Are there enough missing pages
to create a manual?

Rough estimate: 20 to 25 pages.

So where are
the pages now?

Shima wouldn't keep them
in his cell.

That'd be the first place
someone would look.

The warden's
already searched it.

Shima's bad kidneys.

He needs dialysis treatment.

3 hours a day, 3 days a week
he's in the infirmary?

That's a perfect place

for a guard or nurse that's on
the take to turn a blind eye.

All that time alone.
He can use his manual,

write kill orders
in secret code,

send it to his boys on
the outside, never get caught.

Sylvester,
you're in the wrong place.

You need to get the warden
to take you to the infirmary.

I can't get you
into the infirmary.

You have to.

That's where we think Shima's
hiding the code's manual.

If you think
something's fishy

going on in sick bay,

then I don't know
who to trust in there.

If I bring you in
on the first day

with a headache,
they'll know something's up.

Only inmates

with serious issues
get med passes.

So what do we do?

Uh, Sylvester...

you and I are about to have

a very uncomfortable
conversation.

Okay.

We got eyes on you in the yard.

Now we just need to find

the biggest,
baddest con out there.

For you to pick
a fight with.

This is directly contrary

to the advice that we gave
to Ralph this morning.

We told him to run away.

I don't recall
that conversation.

I've never been
in a fight in my life.

You...

look very tough, Sylvester.

Really?

Okay. Nine o'clock.

That's your man.

The mountain in the tank top?

Come on, man!

Give me the ball!

Yep.

Go kick his ass, Sylvester.

Yeah!

That's how it's done, son.

Who got next? Yeah.

I want some playas!

Oh, my God.
Who wants some?

Ten-Ton wants a real game!

Now who... What?

What the hell you want?

To teach you...

Oh, God...

You on my court.

Speak up, before I get angry.

I would like to teach you
a lesson... punk.

'Scuse me?

What, are you...

ugly and deaf?

Like yo' momma?

Easy does it, Doc.

We want him to get punched,
not murdered.

Hey, trick, I don't care
how many people you killed.

This is my house

and I will stop your air.

So step off.

He's got a black-and-white
striped bandana on his hip.

He's a 4th Street Jester.

Tear off his gang colors.

No, I don't want to.
I don't want to.

I don't care
if you don't "want to."

Oh. No, I...
I wasn't talking to you.

I was talking to somebody else.

Yo, this fish is crazy.

You're not offending him,
you're entertaining him.

Now disrespect his colors

or I'll make what he does to you
look like a massage.

I'm sorry.

I have allergies.

Damn.

I didn't expect him to go that far.
Mmm.

Ooh!

Everyone back to Gen Pop!

You heard me, inmate.

Gen Pop or solitary,
your choice.

You and me ain't done.

That was hard to watch.

It was necessary.
He had no choice.

Connors, take this idiot
to the infirmary.

Sylvester, if you're okay,
scratch your head.

Hello? Sylvester?
Can you hear me?

Guys, are you there?

Uh-oh. Check this out.

Is that what
I think it is?

His back left molar.

Now we know why
he can't hear us.

He's stuck in there on his own.

This is bad.

Okay, now,
move it side to side.

I think I have
a spiral fracture.

I need an X-ray.

If you had a spiral fracture,

you wouldn't have
your range of motion.

I should know about mandibulars.

I've dismembered
nine transients.

Would you like a
malpractice suit?

I'm in prison.

I've got nothing else to do.

I'll be back with the imager.

Okay. He got
the doctor to leave,

but he won't be
alone for long.

So I'm killing a camera feed
from the infirmary

to the guards.

They'll just think
that the monitors

are briefly malfunctioning.

It's such a big space.

Manual could be anywhere.

Look for the hemodialysis
machine, you big lug.

They're huge!
Check that back room!

You know he can't hear you,
so why are you yelling?

You hate to dance,
why are you going to a club?

Seems like we all do things
that don't make sense.

Ooh! There you go, buddy!
Right back there.

Yes!

Think. Think...

If I were a murderous gang lord
with a bad kidney

who had to sit in here all day,

where would I hide the manual?

That's it--
sitting here all day.

He's immobile.

Huh...

Holy moly.

What is taking him so long?

The legend page is missing.

Uh, there he is.

I can't decipher this.

Already found the pages,
the Warden gets him out,

you guys untangle the code
and we go save those judges.

We got a problem.

They're bringing in
a patient, fast.

Hurry up, Sly.

He still can't hear you.
I know.

Start an I.V.,
normal saline.

Ten units insulin, sub-Q.
Finger-stick blood sugar.

What's going on?
Is that the warden?

Irregular pulse.
Potassium must be high--

make it 20 units.
Where the hell are the EMTs?

What is going on?

That's an insulin kit
on the gurney.

Warden must be diabetic.

But he's got his medicine.
Then that

must not have been insulin.

Someone inside the prison,
on Shima's payroll,

must've replaced that insulin
with something else.

They took out the warden's CI,
the next logical move

is to take out the warden.

Look-- they're hustling him out.

The only person in Harrison
who knows that Sylvester

isn't really a prisoner
is out of the picture.

I, uh, really didn't

get my jaw checked out.

Could I can wait in sick bay?

Doc's got more important things
right now than you.

It's a gazelle
through the lions.

Looks delicious.

Just like high school.

Listen good, boy.

You disrespect my colors,
you disrespect me.

See that guard over there?

That's my boy.

At 10:00, cell block
lights out.

At 10:01, my man

brings me over to
pay you a visit.

At 10:02,
your lights go out.

Okay. He walked away.

Everything's gonna be fine.

You were saying?

Cabe, you need to do something.

I can't just call in
a transfer order to the prison.

Why the hell not?
We're Homeland.

Be smart.

The deputy warden
is in charge now.

A man that Warden Jadlow
says couldn't be trusted.

If we call saying
Sylvester works for Homeland,

we might as well send a hearse
instead of a transpo van.

Well, just say he's needed as a
witness in a trial or something.

Pull him out

the same day he goes in?

That shines a shady light.

he will be in just
as much danger. Come on, Cabe,

you're thinking with your heart
and not your head.

Now, you said your man
got a look at that code.

Is there any way he can get us
the data so that we can start...

I got a 22-year-old kid

trapped in a maximum
security prison

with a target on his back,

and you want to talk to me
about that case?!

I am asking
about something that can

the lives of three Federal
judges who die within hours.

We have to prioritize!

I'm trying to save those judges,

but not without
saving my man, too.

She can't pull him out?

Saving Sly is
not on her to-do list.

We can't just leave him there.
You have to pull some strings.

The only strings I can pull
take a hell of a lot longer

than the six hours we have
before they come after him.

I told him that he wasn't gonna
be able to live with himself

if he didn't do this.
Now I'm not gonna be able

to live with myself
if something happens to him.

We got to find a way
to get them to release him.

They'll never
release him in time.

That's why our only option is to
break Sylvester out of prison.

Read 'em and weep-- the
schematics of the prison.

Looks airtight.

Vents?

Nothing with outside access.

Can we Shawshank it?

The sewage pipes
are too narrow.

Is there a way to tunnel?

The prison's built on bedrock.

Well, it's secure all right.

But there's always
a single point of failure.

What is this?

This structure

beneath the basement room?

That room
has floor drainage.

Happy, this over here?

Independent cooling system.

Okay, so I'd say
this room

is the prison morgue
and that structure

is the underground bladder
to house biomedical waste.

It's a perfect extraction point.

Prisoners don't have
access to it.

Guards almost never have
a reason to go

This water main here?

Oh, that carries
water and bleach.

EPA regs say that
before biohazard trucks

can pump it out and cart it off,
biohazardous waste

has to be diluted
to certain specs.

The water main runs right

under the subterranean
access road

that the biohazard trucks
must use to make pickups.

So, what-- we're gonna
climb in through a pipe

filled with
biohazardous backwash?

No, but we're still
gonna use the pipe to get in.

Even if you can
get into the morgue,

how do you plan
to get Sylvester there?

Short answer-- kill him.

I can design a drug
that will make him appear dead.

A little plenzamine
to slow the heart,

sprig of dolazepam
to rev down the brain,

dusting of ephedrine to make

his hands
cold to the touch.

Voila-- near-perfect
mimic of death.

Pulse is active,
but undetectable.

with breathing more shallow

then the cheerleaders
at my high school.

Guards assume Sly's

had a cardiac episode,

toss him down with the stiffs.

Where we will
be waiting for him.

But how do we get
the drugs to Sylvester?

Well, prisons are
full of narcotics,

but Sly isn't plugged in there;
he doesn't know who to approach;

and he'll probably
get pummeled if he did.

Why do you look like
you just smelled sour milk?

Because I think I know a guy
who can help us,

But I'm just really,
really unsure about this.

I am so glad you came
to me for help, Wally.

Right from the get-go
I felt a connection between us.

Certain anything
that you felt was

was completely in your head.
I'm so sorry.

How rude.
You guys want some coffee?

No.
No.

So, we just need
your help, Ray,

We need to get some
pharmaceuticals

to our friend in
Harrison Prison.

You got a pal in Harrison?

See?

I knew you were a gangster.

Excuse me one second.

It's been a while since

I have entertained, so...

Walter, maybe this was a mistake.
Pardon me, Wally.

Uh, no offense, but I just
don't want Sylvester's life

in the hands of a guy
who lives in a Gremlin.

None taken.
It's just temporary,

until my app business
takes off, see?

Once I think of a good app.

Ray, can you help or not?

Absolutely, amigo.

Please.

I know this guy--

BooBoo--

a few years back
I cut him in

on a used carpets deal
in Redondo.

Carpets-- that's the wave
of the future right there.

We're on a clock.

BooBoo runs the...

pharmacy, so to speak,
in Harrison.

He can totally
hook your boy up.

I just got to ask him.

Set up a meeting
and in a few weeks...

We don't have a few weeks.

We need to get the
pills to him today.

Visits are scheduled
weeks in advance.

So we're screwed.

Easy now, Patty.

Paige.
In life,

there are three ways
of getting things done--

the right way,
the wrong way,

and the Ray Way.

And the Ray Way involves

a special kind of visitation
that gets priority.

Counselors.

Attorney/client room is this way.
Hi.

Very nice.
Thank you, ma'am.

You know...

your girl Happy makes
great fake I.D.'s.

I know a high school

where we could make a mint.

Trouble?

My son's being
bullied in school.

Oh, he'll push through it.

I was bullied
a ton as a kid,

and look at me now--
a lawyer.

You're not a lawyer.

Objection.

Argumentative.

This is the biggest bag
of yeast we got.

You brewing beer?

I'm brewing trouble, lady.

Happy, what's cooking?

A big batch of H2O2.

Walt, you get
the wheels yet?

I'm working on it.

Cabe, you almost done?

Just about.
Okay.

We're in business.

Now, all we need is for
your friend to deliver.

Think he can handle it?

Ray's not my friend,
and I don't know.

You know those
are takeout menus.

No...

Are you holding up okay?

I am in prison, Paige,

about to be killed.

Would you like to start
with a new question?

Sorry.

Good news is we're
getting you out of here.

Bad news is it's
through the morgue.

Through the morgue?

Well, how the heck am I
supposed to get down there?

So you deliver
these drugs in these doses

to that guy
over there, okay?

No dice.

That psycho's a marked man.

He pissed off Ten-Ton.

You owe me.

I testified on your behalf.

If you want me to help...

thousand bucks in my kick.

Done.

Homeland Security's
got you covered.

So let me get this straight.

Step one,
I take the pills.

Step two... I die?
No.

Almost die.

Toby says you-you just
come close to death.

You guys are unbelievable.

You send me in here,
and you tell me that

you're gonna be with me
the entire time,

and then my comms
get knocked out of my head.

My only contact
in here

is comatose.

And now you want me
to dabble in suicide.

Well, it's not gonna happen.
I won't do it.

Toby said you'd feel this way.

Fine.

I trust
Toby's drug calculations,

but what if BooBoo is not the
pharmacist that we think he is.

I take offense to that.

Sustained.

Ray swears by the guy.

That brings me to
my next question.

Who the hell is Ray?

I'm Walter's new friend.

Really nice to meet you.

Walter trusts him,
and we are out of options.

You take the pills,
we break you out,

we save the judges-- easy.

Not sure about
the "save the judges" part.

I memorized the manual,
but the legend was missing.

It's the key to the
code's use patterns.

Without it, I can't decrypt the names.
Those judges

die at midnight-- you have
to find the missing legend.

It could be anywhere
in this place.

Shima's confined to a wheelchair
90% of the day.

There has to be some limit
on where he could hide it.

The wheelchair.

It's logical that he hides it
somewhere inside the chair.

That way it's with him
but not on him,

and it's never found.

You have to get it by 9:45,
because Toby says

it takes 15 minutes
for the drugs to kick in,

and you have to be dead before
Ten-Ton comes to kill you.

I can't believe
that sentence makes sense.

Okay, you got to go.
Look at me.

I believe in you;
the whole team does.

That's right,

Sylvester, we all do--
the whole team.

♪ ♪

It's too late.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

You almost ready?

The hydrogen peroxide has to be
extra concentrated

or it won't work.
Two cans over there,

- third one's coming up.
- I'll put these

- on the truck.
- I got the yeast, extra yeasty.

Okay, load it up.
We almost ready?

Next time
you guys mix the stuff.

Are you still not sure

if Sylvester got
the legend or not?

By the time I got back, all
I saw on the surveillance feed

were the guards zipping him
in a body bag

and wheeling him on a gurney--
it was... creepy.

We're ready.
Okay, okay, so quick rundown.

When we get there, Happy,
you mix the hydrogen peroxide

with the yeast while Cabe and I
run do the service road

to the morgue's
exterior access door,

which will open
once that pipe explodes.

Okay, you better be in
position, because as soon

as the HP solution
hits the water main

with the yeast, it'll create
massive amounts of O2.

The pressure will either blow
through the truck or the pipe.

- I've got 60-40 odds on the pipe.
- You better hit it.

Clock's ticking
for the judges and for Sly.

♪ ♪

- Happy, get your comms in.
- Hurry up,

Sylvester's gonna wake up
any second now.

Sylvester?

Sylvester?

Walter?

Walter.

I did it.

- I survived death!
- Good for you.

Okay, there are two shut-off
valves near the door.

Turn them both to the
right till they stop

and then
back away from the door.

The explosion will
blast the door off.

Tank's almost empty.
Any second now,

the water main's gonna blow.

Okay, back away
from the door now, kid!

All personnel,
we have a breach at B24!

Can't find my gun!

Doesn't matter!

We got Sylvester!

Hey! Did you get the legend?

No, I passed out first.

Judges die
without the legend.

Guys, we gotta run.

The guards are probably
on their way here now.

No, I was basically dead.

I didn't just go through
all that to give up.

Right now, going back
into that prison does not seem

as big as it should be.

Sylvester, we can't.
The guards will catch us.

Not if they can't see us.

Toby, can you black out
the cameras to the guards,

just like Walt's been doing?

Toby, did you catch that?

I'm not a hacker,
but that should be easy enough.

We lost visual.

Come on, guys, we can do this.
Let's hustle.

Get this comm in your ear.

What's got into you, kid?

A bunch of pills
that almost killed me.

Medical storage.

Ahead to the left.

Bingo.

Got it.
Okay, you memorized the manual,

now you have the legend.
Get to work.

30 minutes till midnight,

so we got to do
this on the move,

if we're gonna give
those judges a chance.

Are we clear, guys?

Hallway's empty.
Shake a leg.

Uh, we're having some issues
with that camera

around the next corner.

You're gonna
have to play peekaboo.

We'll check. Stay there and
take care of that code!

All units!
Attention, all units!

Lock it down! Lock it down!

You supposed to be
dead, new fish.

It's time to make
the rumors true.

I have a limit
of one death per day.

Sylvester, it's clear! Let's go!

Happy, get the engine running!

I'm at the bottom of the hill.
Things sound crazy up there.

I suggest you hustle.

Toby, the first judge's name
is Kedwin!

There! Robert Kedwin!
Okay, Director Molina,

the first judge's name
is Robert Kedwin.

Finish the code!

Lockdown!
Code red! Lockdown! Code red!

Second judge's name
is Soretti!

Two down, one to go, Sly.

No, no...

Gotta try!

Got it.

Lockdown, code red!

Lockdown, code red!

The last judge's name...

Sylvester!

Excuse me, Officer!

Thanks! The last judge's name
is Mueller!

I was nearly drugged
and choked to death today.

All less scary
than your driving.

We continue coverage
of the incredible

Harrison Prison scandal
that broke late last night.

It's been confirmed that

two gang member assassins
were arrested

while staking out judges' homes,
while a third was killed

in a shootout with authorities.

Just got off with DOJ.

They've appointed a
federal monitor for the prison.

Looks like our friend
the warden's gonna have help

cleaning up that rat's nest,
once he's recovered.

And Shima's crew?

Dispersing them from Walpole,
Mass, to North Dakota.

Shima himself
will live out his days

in a supermax outside
of Anchorage.

Your team did fine work.

Wish I could
say the same for you.

Excuse me?

You were willing to sacrifice
one of my team

to make your case.

I was thinking
about three members

of the federal judiciary.
You were thinking about

what would look worse for you,

three dead judges
or one dead kid.

I'm a Marine.

"No man left behind"
means something to me.

My hope was to protect
everyone involved.

Don't try to politick your way
out of this.

I don't trust you anymore.

I will never put my people's
lives in your hands again.

And if that costs me my job,

so be it.

Some things are more important.

Thanks, Cabe.

We're a team, right?

A family.

Holy TV stars.

I'm here with
Ralph Dineen.

Hi, Ralph.
Hello.

Ralph, get in here!
Ralph, I understand

you've just been accepted
to Harvard, MIT,

Caltech,

to name a few.

Not bad for a ten-year-old.

How did this happen?
I applied.

Really? Does your mom...

Ralph...

Now I'm a celebrity at school.

Kids don't pick on celebrities.

He's right. I mean, this was
an efficient plan involving...

zero confrontation.

I never signed off

on-on, on TV interviews.

Of course you can speak
to my son Ralph.

I'm so proud of him.

I've been saying

for months that Ralph
needs to ditch that school.

I'm staying in
elementary school.

If I can't relate to humans,

I'll turn out like you guys.

Ouch.

Uh...

Okay, I-I respect your position.

But you should consider

taking night classes at Caltech.

You have a... a gift.

You should hone it.

Go finish

your breakfast.

Did you see how he took
the idea of going to college?

It's exactly what I've said

about him needing more
of a challenge.

Hear what he said
about relating

to regular people?
That's what I've been

trying to do for you
for a while.

And you're making progress
with me.

And to continue that progress,

I think
you need people in your life

outside of the garage.

It might sound drastic,
but I met someone today

who seemed to take
a liking to you.

Not Ray.
He's strange

and a touch annoying,
but he's human.

And he came through for us.

He might be
an opportunity

for growth for you.

How can I, uh, put this?

No.

Hello?

Chet?

Hey.

I missed you
at the club last night.

Yeah.
Uh, work ran late.

No worries. You maybe want
to head over there tonight?

Same time?
Sure.

Um, I'm gonna
walk you out.

Happy, don't you want
to introduce us...

...us?

What are you doing, Doc?

Well, Freud would say
I'm beating up on myself.

Ah, Happy's gentleman caller's
got you down.

I get it.
You want to hit something.

Yeah, like his stupid face.

Hey, wait, wait, wait.
Hold on.

Hold this.

All right...

get your hands up,

elbows in,

and then you want
to turn your hands

like you're opening
a doorknob.

All right?

You try.

There you go.

All right.
Put your weight behind it.

Nice!

Listen to that snap.

There you go.

Megan...

when I was here yesterday,

I wasn't 100% honest with you.

There was something
I wanted to say,

but... I was scared.

This is the mating song
of the Coolangatta egret.

This bird practices
lifelong fidelity.

And when it knows it's
found its one true mate,

it does this.

This egret dance
describes how I feel.

I feel like I'm...

in love with you.

I love you, too.

See, that wasn't scary.

Yeah, I honestly,
I don't know.

Hey.
Wally!

Great news, man, supervisor
just cut us loose until mañana.

Really? Why?

Uh, somebody wrecked
the water truck last night.

You know, uh, speaking of,
uh, yesterday, I, um...

...thank you for your help.

It's what I do.

I'm a problem solver.

You'll learn. The Ray Way
always leads to victo-ray.

Okay.
Uh, anyhoo, I was thinking,

since we've got
the morning off,

I was gonna lift that
paint tarp over there.

Me and some of the guys, we're
gonna head up to Griffith Park,

strip down to our undergear,
oil up with Crisco,

and see where
gravity takes us.

Like a big
Slip 'N Slide.

Any interest?

Not even remotely, no.

Come on.
We could use a timer.

I suppose I could keep time.

Sweet.

Let's get a move on,
brother!

Now, the-the timer doesn't have
to get into his underwear

and-and oil up, does he?

No. Don't make
this weird, bro.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man