Original subtitles

I repeat, remain calm.

Once you have secured your life jacket,

follow the red arrows on the hallway floors

to level three,

where a crew member in an orange vest will assist you

with entering the appropriate...

Guys, I have a cramp.

Boze, keeping our limbs planted in these positions

could save thousands of lives.

Just suck it up, all right?

I got it, I got it.

Left foot, blue.

Good work.

I'm going down, guys.

No, no...

Oh!

Pressure on the watertight bulkheads

from the decks above is-is mounting.

We need a more permanent solution.

We're gonna make putty.

Welcome to Hydrolysis 101.

From the Ancient Greek "hydro," meaning "water,"

and "lysis," meaning "to unbind."

To use this process to make putty,

get some olive oil, sand,

epoxy resin and shampoo.

This will cause a reaction in which water molecules rupture

chemical bonds to form new, longer chains strong enough

to hold back water until help arrives.

My man Mac does it again.

Never underestimate the power of putty.

Ah!

It's not working. Why isn't it working?

I don't know.

Why didn't the putty work?

The cruise liner sank after sustaining attacks

by Somali pirates in the Indian Ocean.

Fortunately, all 3,000 souls on board survived...

It should have worked. Why didn't it work?

I ruled out decomposition of the catalyst.

Uh-huh. Hey, uh, where can I put these?

Uh, the, uh, bottom left cabinet.

The only other plausible explanation is...

I miscalculated Gibbs free energy.

There's no space -in here, either. -But if that were the case,

I would've felt heat from an exothermic reaction,

-which I didn't. -Okay, Mac, please.

Enough.

You're obsessing. It turns out,

-you're only human. -Yes, I know.

But those people's lives were in my hands.

Yeah, and they're all okay.

Meanwhile, when you asked me to move in, I actually thought

you might take some time to help make space for me.

I'm sorry.

But did I not agree to move the polar bear for your coatrack?

Lucky me. You spent all of 30 seconds thinking about

this massive step in our relationship

instead of playing with Play-Doh.

Matty. Matty.

Move.

You move.

Dibs on first shower.

-Whoa! -You seriously do that every morning?

I-I have thick hair.

Ow! Ow!

Mac. Ow...

Sorry we're late.

-His fault. -It was her fault.

Yes. Delighted to see

that cohabitation is going so well.

Just peachy.

Right, well, the rest of the chaps

had to get on with pressing matters.

However, you two were called in because yesterday,

this vehicle was listed for sale in Umbria, Italy.

"Vehicle" is being generous.

Yes, it may not look like much, but this is what

automotive enthusiasts refer to as a...

"Barn find."

Old, rusted cars found abandoned in people's garages.

The seller has no idea that buried beneath

all that rust and grime is a legendary

1967 Bizzarrini 5300 GT Strada.

A car with lines so exquisite

its body had to be forged by hand.

Listed at...

...500 euros.

one million.

So you're sending us to get you a new toy

for your collection?

Meet Franco Scuro.

Number five in Interpol's most wanted.

Once the head of the Cornacchia crime family,

he was last seen in 2006 fleeing from a shootout with police

driving a car of the same year, make and model.

You think this is Scuro's old car.

Well, it's the only lead that's surfaced

since he vanished 15 years ago.

And in that time, the Cornacchia crime family

had become the suppliers

of mass-casualty weapons to extremist groups

across Western Europe.

The bombing in London last year.

And Paris.

And Belgium.

All made possible by Scuro's people.

I need you to go and confirm

that the vehicle is his and follow any clues.

If this man is still breathing,

we must find him and interrogate him.

Find Scuro, stop the weapons, stop the violence.

But if Desi and I are the only ones going to Italy,

what's everyone else doing?

Bozer, any updates?

Since the last time you asked?

Larry beat his personal best in the maze,

uh, Curly pooped at 0800 hours, and-- oh, yeah--

Moe started shooting laser beams from his whiskers.

You know, Bozer, just because I'm off-site

doesn't mean I can't hurt you.

I'm sorry, Matty,

but it's been days since we injected these rats

with nano-trackers from Mac and Riley's blood

and nothing's happening.

The second that changes...

Riley, what about you? Any action?

Well, at least Bozer's subjects are cute,

but the webcam feed on this nanotech broker

is ten kinds of boring.

Well, he's our only lead.

And in the wrong hands, this technology

can turn the world upside down.

So the instant either of you have any leads

about who's developing this or what's going on...

We'll call you.

It's truly terrifying she can pop in like that

whenever she wants.

Well, we're definitely interested.

The barn is pretty dry so it's mostly just surface rust.

And her shut lines are tight.

You two sure I cannot offer you caffè?

Oh, no, thank you.

May I?

I'll double the asking price.

1,000 euro.

We'll make it 2,000.

10,000 euro.

She's all yours.

Wonderful.

That was so exciting, eh?

Dino.

Did you see that?

Big baldy positioned himself in my blind spot.

Yeah, and the other guy looked right at the bullet hole,

like he expected it to be there.

Which means they know about the crime boss.

What's our play?

Okay, we're gonna use the rental car

and a DIY tow rig to pull this thing out of here.

Can you get Carla to a safe place?

Yeah.

Carla.

Actually, I would love that espresso if you don't mind.

Prego.

Hey!

What are you doing?

Come on, Mac...

Have you ever stopped to think about what an airbag

must accomplish to do its job?

Your car swerves off the road and hits a tree.

A device senses the collision,

triggering a controlled explosion

which then inflates a bag that catches your head,

all while your car is still crashing.

Which should mean that these two airbags also pack enough punch

to lift the front end of our Bizzarrini.

That's not gonna work.

Never mind. Super cool.

Vai! Vai! Vai!

These guys are not going away.

Yeah, if we don't find a way to ditch them,

this barn find's gonna be lost.

Yeah, um...

After the next turn, start swerving

back and forth across the road.

I'm gonna Goldfinger them.

You're gonna what?

Sean Connery in the DB5?

What are you talking about?

I'm gonna oil-slick them.

Why don't you just say Spy Hunter next time, then?

What is Spy Hunter?

"What is Spy Hunter?"

Vai! Vai! Vai!

All right, Mac, there's a turn up ahead.

Drain it in three,

two, one.

Now!

Oh, come on, come on, come on, come on.

What are you, asleep back there?

All right, there's another one.

This is our last chance.

Three...

two... one... now!

Thanks.

Taylor is having local PD check on Carla

to make sure she's okay.

Plus, he's wiring her enough money for three cars.

Okay, well...

There's nothing hidden inside,

so there's only two reasons the men would want this car.

Either info on Scuro's fate, or they work for him

and want to bury fresh leads.

Well, just got coordinates to an Interpol forensics lab

that's 300 miles away, and Taylor wants us

to transport this car there.

I don't think my DIY tow rig is gonna make it that far.

Can you even get this heap of scrap metal running?

I think so,

if I cannibalize parts and fluids from our rental,

but, um...

Weren't you top of your class at MARSOC?

So?

That was spec-ops tactical driving school,

not fixing school.

You know, so...

Do your Mac thing.

Yeah, uh...

I'm just gonna call Bozer, get him to send me

some, uh, mechanical diagrams.

Can you get a head start on siphoning the gas?

Hey, Boze, I need your help with something,

but you can't tell anybody.

I don't want to freak them out.

Okay, but now you're freaking me out.

What's going on?

Something's wrong with my hands.

They feel...

clumsy, like they're falling asleep.

And it's getting worse.

So, could you just

look through my dad's medical files

for similar symptoms.

Something possibly related

-to his cancer. -You think you have cancer?

No, I don't. I think it's a pinched nerve,

but I just want to rule it out,

if you have time.

Trust, I've got nothing but time.

Matty has me babysitting these...

Boze? You there?

Y-Yeah, I'm on it.

All right, thanks.

Now you see me.

Now you don't.

Now you see.

Now you don't.

Now you see me.

How much longer are we gonna wait for this guy

to contact his supplier?

Is this all because Matty feels guilty

she couldn't stop Mac and I from getting dosed

-with nano-trackers? -Uh, Matty would never let

her emotions dictate Phoenix strategy.

All right? Yeah.

It's just these tiny robots are in my body,

and I'm less manic about it than she is.

I should be in Italy with Mac and Desi, or...

using my skills to do literally anything else.

Actually,

there is something you can do to help me.

That look on your face is

both intriguing and very creepy.

Yes, when I was at MI6,

I learned the art of how to influence emotions

and manipulate behaviors.

Unfortunately, even professionals slip up, and, um,

I may, in a moment of weakness, have, uh,

sent Sofia a few text messages

too many before waiting for her to respond.

So, you want me to hack into the telecom company,

delete her text messages before she wakes up

so you don't look like an overeager, desperate loser?

Well...

Unnecessarily hurtful, but, uh, yes.

Well...

You're lucky I'm bored.

Right.

All right, that should do it.

Okay.

It was a 1994 Hunter Green Metallic Jeep Wrangler.

What was yours?

Oh.

It was an old Volkswagen Cabrio.

Oh. Hey, but that thing

was a Rolls-Royce compared to this jalopy.

The speedometer keeps jumping around,

and it feels like there's rocks in the steering column.

Hmm.

Well, I think she heard you.

Oh, my God.

Whoa, whoa, be nice.

We only need her to behave for another six hours,

and then we'll be back to our home sweet home.

You mean your home sweet home.

What does that mean?

Just ever since I moved in,

all we've been doing is fighting.

I'll admit we've been out of sync.

We've fought more since I moved in

than the whole time we've been dating.

I can't be the only one wondering if...

living together was a mistake.

Desi...

You know what, just forget that I brought it up.

Sorry. No. No, no, no. Look.

Call Taylor.

Yeah. I'm on it.

My phone battery died. Can you call him?

-What? -Yeah.

Bad news, I'm afraid, Mac.

When the police went back to the farmhouse

to check on the car's seller, they found Carla dead.

Two gunshots to the chest.

Those men doubled back to kill her, but why?

I don't know.

But the Italian police...

They're looking for you.

-They think we did it. -Great.

Yes, but just, uh,

stay off the main roads, stay out of sight,

and I'll have Matty reach out to the, uh, Polizia Stradale.

Taylor, we're gonna have to call you back. Car trouble.

Uh, pop the hood.

Damn it.

Alternator belt snapped.

Must've been more corroded than it looked.

Can you fix it?

I know how to fix it.

What's that mean?

My hands don't work.

What?

Right now I'm telling them to make fists,

and they're not listening.

You're having a medical issue, and you kept it from me?

Yes, but it's actually a good thing,

because then I realized that I've been losing dexterity

over the past couple days.

That's why my putty failed on-on...

on the cruise ship ..., my God. Enough with the putty.

You put both of our lives in danger,

and you lied to me.

Just tell me how to get it running.

Uh, take my belt off.

Yeah, and then, uh, take my knife out.

Yeah. So you're gonna cut off the belt buckle.

You're gonna use the heat from the engine to sear it

into a loop. Take the wrench

from the knife

and loosen those things.

Loop the thing around all of these.

-Okay, like this? -I think so.

You think?

Well, you have to get the tension right.

I'm used to feeling through these things myself.

You know what? Good enough.

Uh, but dead alternator means dead battery,

so you're gonna have to help me push-start the car.

Okay. Now.

D-D-Door! No hands. The door!

Thanks.

It's the nano-trackers.

That's what's causing the issue

-with Mac's hands. -What?

One of the rats is having the same problem in his front paw.

And the one thing you two have in common

is those nano-trackers.

How can that be?

We made sure that the nano-trackers were inert

when we got the sunset sequence from Silas.

And that's why I brought in Dr. Sandria--

the CIA's top neurologist.

The nano-trackers are inert,

but they are foreign nanoparticles in the blood,

which are having an unexpected physiological side effect.

All right, what does that mean exactly?

Basically, the nano-trackers have been forming

a plaque in Mac's brain, kind of like cholesterol.

Which is restricting blood flow

to the primary motor cortex

that controls movement in the hands.

So, while Mac's mind may be working fine,

his hands aren't getting the message.

Similar to a stroke.

Is this gonna happen to me?

Each body reacts differently.

We don't know how your body will react, if at all.

We have discovered

the side effect gets worse with increased stress.

The good news is, the problem seems to be localized

in his front paws-- hands--

and shouldn't spread any further.

Probably. Maybe.

Could this be permanent?

There's still a lot we don't know.

But I promise to get you all the answers we can.

Uh, hey...

Uh, Taylor, you got a sec?

Well, Mac and Desi need our help.

You and I are wheels up in ten.

Well, who's gonna watch the broker while we're gone?

What if he makes a move?

Well, I thought you'd jump at the chance

to ditch "Project Boring."

Well, "Project Boring" just became "Project Urgent."

Matty's right. We need to figure out

who's behind these nano-trackers and why.

Look, I may have a solution.

I-I wanted to do this for you and Matty at a better time,

but...

I've been grooming these girls.

Now, hear me out.

They do have criminal records,

but these are some seriously skilled computer hackers.

We could outsource code to them

and create a program to watch the broker

with real-time keystroke analytics

by the time we land in Italy.

Are you really proposing

we involve civilians in classified ops?

Well, yes.

But we could chop up the code into discreet sub-tasks

so they can't see the whole program.

We can't possibly trust matters of national security

to a bunch of delinquent girls with rap sheets.

You mean delinquent girls with rap sheets like me.

Look.

I don't mind you having personal projects on the side,

but you shouldn't mix your personal life

with official Phoenix business.

But it's cool for my boss

to have me hack into his booty call's text messages

on company time.

Got it.

Look, I understand that you might be feeling

a little bit... scared

and not thinking rationally,

but the answer is no.

Thank you for your hard work,

but I assure you my team can take it from here.

And I assure you la Polizia Stradale

can handle their own business.

My people were not involved in the murder of Carla Giordano,

so I need you to call off your search.

And who are you to give me orders?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Then I'm not at liberty to care.

Excuse me, but this was a courtesy call.

And in about ten seconds, you're gonna get

another call from your captain

ordering you to finish up your business

and do exactly as I say.

Wrong number.

Police didn't arrive at that farmhouse

until after the car was already gone, so how exactly

did you get a description so quickly?

My men are resourceful.

Unless you're the other buyer.

You are after the car.

You killed Carla Giordano.

You're interfering

in an international investigation.

You must let the proper authorities...

I'm the authority here!

And I want Scuro dead!

So you know he's still alive.

I took a shot at that Bizzarrini 15 years ago,

and I missed that... murderous bastard

by a hair.

I won't miss again.

Okay.

So, apparently,

the chief is a machismo murder-cop.

And there's a net of police checkpoints surrounding us.

And-- oh, my God-- make this jingle stop!

I've only got until

this place opens up to come up with a plan? I can't do that.

This is impossible.

Hey.

It's gonna be okay.

Okay?

First, we got to get out of here, okay?

I will be your hands.

We can do this.

In chemistry, a change in physical state can occur

from a change in temperature.

So if we add heat to a large piece of vinyl, say,

an advertising billboard, we can shrink it on our car,

change its physical state and voilà--

hide in plain sight.

Mac!

This only works if you tell me what you're thinking.

Sorry. I need you to help me cut up some vinyl billboard.

Yeah.

Nope.

I should've told you about my hands, I'm sorry.

I don't want you to move out.

Then why weren't you acting like it?

You were so obsessed with your stupid putty,

you barely even looked at me when I was moving in.

I've always been the guy who builds stuff.

That's my thing.

That's how I help people.

You can't always be Superman.

I know, but...

so many people have died to save me.

My dad, my aunt,

Mason's son.

So if I can't save others, then who am I?

You're my partner.

You think I love you because of what you can do?

I love you because of who you are.

You think so.

But what if you won't?

Look.

This lifestyle,

what we do...

it all has an expiration date.

And when we are done saving the world,

when we are old and gray,

you have to have faith that I'm still gonna be there.

You can lean on me.

All right, it's still warming this up.

And, uh, this is -the most important part. -Okay.

-Especially down here. -Okay, okay.

Get around the bumper, here.

-I-- What? -You got to pull it down here.

Under there ...der where?!

If you go, okay, sorry, over there now!

-Stop yelling at me! -I'm sorr--

Hurry or the vinyl temp is gonna cool.

We can't afford to have that happen or it will...

rip.

I'm gonna need five.

Des? I think I found something.

Yes, those are my initials.

Franco Scuro was my father.

Won't you have a bite to eat?

Uh, no, we are...

we're in a bit of a hurry, actually.

Please, this isn't the first time

I've been questioned about my father.

Let me try and help.

My father left when I was 12.

I now know that he was a horrible man.

I never heard from him once he left,

nor would I want to.

We have reason to believe

your father could still be alive.

Impossible.

He would rather die than leave that car.

Do you happen to know this chap?

He's the chief of the Polizia Stradale,

Marco Vecchi.

I never heard of him.

-Sorry. -Well, Simona, you have been

very kind...

but we have a pressing matter

to attend to.

I have to go see a colleague.

It's hard.

Growing up without your dad.

My father's rejection hurt me a lot.

No one asks to be the kid of a bad man.

I loved him so much as a child.

The only way to get any time with him was to sit

in the garage while he worked on that car,

listening to him go on and on

about the time he won that race.

I was jealous of that car.

I guess by carving my initials into that Bizzarrini,

I was trying to carve my way into his heart.

I'm surprised you saw it.

He never noticed.

All right, we're approaching the checkpoint now.

Did you guys get anything from the daughter that could help us?

Unfortunately, no.

Took much longer than expected

because Riley was chatting it up over formaggio.

Well, excuse me for caring that the poor girl's dad

told her more racing stories than bedtime stories.

Wait a second, this, this car was in a race?

Des, remember earlier you were complaining about

-the steering? -Among other things, yeah.

Can you, uh, grab my Swiss Army knife?

It's in that pocket, and, uh,

check for a wire that might have

slipped into the steering column.

Yeah. What is it?

That's an official lead stamp.

All cars that raced in the '60s were given this.

La Punzonatura.

Which had the date and location

of the race on it-- in this case...

San Marino.

San Marino, San Marino...

Mac?

Guys, got to go-- Sergeant Scumbag

is at the checkpoint.

If he doesn't recognize the car,

he's definitely gonna recognize us.

We're stuck.

Okay, we're gonna need a disguise-- will you, uh,

reach into that hole right there?

What? Why?

I don't have time to explain. You'll be my hands, right?

Yeah.

Okay. Just...

Y-You're looking for the grease.

It's next to the driveshaft.

You'll recognize it by its low viscosity.

You know what, just say "greasy."

Yeah, now run it through my hair.

Okay, now, uh,

the glasses, pop out the lenses.

And then, uh...

Ah. Okay, now take the Swiss Army knife and cut

through the upholstery in the back.

Because he's looking for two people,

one of whom is-- was

blond.

Bye.

Go!

Okay, change of plans.

I know how to find Franco Scuro.

Instead of hiding this car,

we're gonna show it off.

What's this crazy plan of yours?

Well, thanks to Riley, we now know

the greatest moment of Franco Scuro's

life was in San Marino, racing this Bizzarrini.

Which his own daughter said he loved

-more than life itself. -See?

-Always say yes to formaggio. -Oh, please.

San Marino also happens to be

its own independent nation-state

within Italy, with its own sovereign government

-and police jurisdiction. -The only place Scuro

could've hid for 15 years

-without leaving Italy. -Exactly.

So what better way to lure him out than by bringing

his long-lost love to his own backyard?

No, I'm aborting this mission.

Let's hear them out, Matty.

I cannot

and I will not have MacGyver remain in the field if he's

-incapacitated. -I'm not incapacitated.

We'll be there to back him up.

Mac, I want you home.

As long as Mac can keep his blood pressure down,

his symptoms won't get any worse.

Matty, I'd never support this if I didn't believe

we'd pull this off.

No, I've made my decision!

And that's final!

I'm with the team on this one, Matty.

Mac!

You okay?

Yeah, everything but the hands.

How are you holding up?

So far, so good.

But let me know if I sprout a third ear.

Will do.

Buonasera.

Anybody want to help put on a car show?

Oh...

It's a Bizzarrini.

So, we're gonna restore the Bizzarrini

back to mint condition and then we're gonna advertise it

as the star of our show

that we're going to throw in San Marino.

Riley will create buzz online.

It's gonna be great.

And Desi and Taylor will spread the word

on the street.

Hey, so they said that we could use

this old motorcycle tachometer.

Perfect.

Thank God they didn't ask me why.

I'm gonna make a blood pressure gauge.

Bozer said that if I can keep

my blood pressure down, my symptoms won't get worse.

Patients do better when they can read

real-time biometric data.

So I guess I'm just looking for something,

anything, that I can control at this point.

How can I help?

Blood pressure can be estimated using a pulse oximeter,

so we can measure that

using the infrared LED inside of that TV remote,

and I'm doing that thing that you hate

when I give "TMI," aren't I?

Are you air-quoting me?

Just take my phone and break it apart already.

At your service.

Okay, you see that, uh,

big squarey thingy

in the middle of the shiny squiggles?

That's the CPU. I need you to remove that.

You using real words for me?

Oh ...at's very sweet.

Thank you.

Yeah, you know how much I love to break things.

Putting things back together is a little new.

No, I mean, thank you for helping me.

Thank you for letting me help you.

See? I still love you.

Maybe even more.

I was just so afraid of what I couldn't do,

I wasn't really paying attention to what we could be.

You're a big softy.

Damn it.

It's catchy, isn't it?

I hate that damn song.

Yes, well, Desi and I are in position.

And the Bizzarrini's already turning heads.

Check in.

Well, I'm over here by the entrance, making the most

of not being able to use my hands.

Eyes peeled for anyone Scuro's age.

Standing by to run facial rec against his old photo.

If I get a match,

I'll give the word.

And Taylor and I will grab him.

How is this guy still talking about the car?

Don't get me wrong, it's pretty and all, but get a grip.

Pretty? She's drop-dead bellissima.

Somebody's changed their tune.

Well, my baby girl looks good in red.

Guys, guys.

Male, 60s or 70s, approaching the car.

Newsboy cap. Riley, see what I'm talking about?

All right, sit tight.

Facial recognition's running remote

off Phoenix servers but the Internet around here sucks.

Nobody move until we have a match.

We don't want to blow this whole thing.

He is humping the car, Taylor.

It's not him.

Just another car nut.

You don't survive 15 years on the run

without being obsessively careful.

He easily could've had a look from a distance hours ago.

Yeah, or he was never even in San Marino.

Uh, where'd this guy

behind the wheel of our car come from?

He's got something in his hand, but I can't make it out.

Taylor?

No visual for me.

The cigarette lighter.

It's him. Go, go, go!

Franco Scuro, you are under arrest!

Out of the car!

Slowly!

I'm done.

Polizia Stradale. Stand down.

You have absolutely no authority here

in the Republic of San Marino,

[engine starts]so just back off.

Well, that's not good.

Desi, door. Door?

Thanks.

Brava, brava.

Okay, Franco, I see you.

Damn, that old man knows how to drive that Bizzarrini.

You know what's super useful when you're in hot pursuit?

-What's that? -Hands.

Damn it, I can't keep up.

Riley, you got a shortcut?

Yes. That road doubles back about five kilometers below you.

If you can get to it, you could cut them off, but then what?

Leave that part to me.

I mean us.

We only have a few more minutes

before Scuro's car comes flying down that road.

I have an idea.

Catch.

All right, so, take that

and run it through the hook from the truck's emergency kit,

and then secure the loose end to the back wheel.

Yeah, but at the speed he's driving, we're gonna destroy that car.

Not if we raise the rear axle and wind up the cable.

And then I'll tap the ... the exact moment that he hits the line

-and we Top Gun him. -We Top Gun him.

The principle of an arresting cable is simple.

You have a limited distance to stop a high-velocity vehicle

without causing damage to a very valuable object.

Typically they're used on aircraft carriers

to catch fighter jets.

But in our case, a very wanted crime boss

and his lovingly restored car.

But for it to work, many moving parts

must function perfectly in sync.

He sets the trap to snag the car...

While she works the brakes to adjust the tension

and absorb the force of impact, until...

We got him!

Get this to my daughter.

I heard they charged Marco Vecchi

with murder and several flavors of conspiracy.

Well, that's one sexist slimeball cherry

on our crime boss sundae.

Oh, did, uh, did Riley mention this, uh,

hacker group of hers to you?

It's my job to know everything

happening in my operatives' lives.

Yeah, she got all bent out of shape

when I wouldn't read them in, but, uh,

I mean, I made the right call, obviously.

Do you want me to shut it down?

No. I'll keep an eye on it.

Oh, and, um, Matty,

if you're blaming yourself

for this nano-tracker business...

Russ... it was my mission.

I sent them.

And one way or another, I'm gonna fix it.

Good news.

Mac is already starting to regain control of his hands.

All from meditation. Really?

Guided body scan meditation.

Studies show it reduces stress by rewiring neural pathways

in the brain which will mitigate future side effects

and prevent anything from happening to Riley.

Perhaps we should start calling you Dr. Double-O-Boze.

I like the sound of that.

Night. Good night.

What are you waiting for?

Who supplied the nano-trackers?

Hello?

Who's there?

I didn't tell anybody.

Nobody knows about the nano...

No! No, no, no...

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