Original subtitles

His name is Jarod.

Just exactly what the hell is he?

Jarod is a Pretender...

a genius who can literally become anyone he wants to be.

And the Centre wants him back.

They should've stuck with the computers to do the simulations.

Computers don't run away.

A computer cannot also read a book on heart surgery in the morning...

then perform a flawless bypass in the afternoon.

Jarod can.

He can do anything.

The Centre team chasing him, are they up to par?

The team has three members.

First is Ms. Parker, who grew up at the Centre where her father is in charge.

She has been tied to Jarod since they were children.

Besides Jarod, her only other pursuit is the truth about her mother's death.

Does she know she was murdered?

I mean, if she was to find out the real truth about Catherine Parker, then-

It would be... tragic.

Next is Sydney.

Part psychiatrist, part father figure, part teacher.

He raised Jarod from a child, molded his gifts.

Emotionally, Jarod is tied to him in a primal way.

If Sydney disappeared, so would Jarod.

Next is Broots. He is a technical genius who has kept us only one step behind Jarod.

No small task.

What about our people?

Mr. Parker is still in control of the Centre.

And what about Mr. Raines?

Our latest report on Mr. Raines is, he is dead.

- And Lyle? -The thumbless Mr. Lyle remains loyal.

So where does all this leave us?

Our observation team tracked Miss Parker and Jarod...

to the Underground in D. C. where their half brother, Ethan...

planted a bomb on a subway train.

What happened post-blast is anyone's guess.

But make no mistake.

IfJarod is still alive, we will get him back.

Are there any more questions?

Just one.

Is it true thatJarod was stolen as a child?

# Kri kra toad's foot ##

I finished my building.

I'm finished!

This one's been with us for only 36 hours...

and he's already demonstrating more talent than any of our others.

Hey, I'm finished.

Hi, Jarod. I'm Sydney. I'll be taking care of you for a while.

Why? Where's my mom and dad?

There are Pretenders among us.

Geniuses with the ability to become anyone they want to be.

In the 1960s, a corporation known as the Centre

isolated a young Pretender named Jarod...

and exploited his genius for their research.

Then one day, their Pretender ran away.

There's a bomb on board, Ms. Parker. We've got 15 seconds to get off this train!

Come on, Ethan.

Wejump.! Now.!

Perfect.

Here! I'm over here!

Mom.

Give me your hand.

I don't understand.

Ask your father.

He knows all the secrets.

- Miss Parker, are you okay? - I'm fine. Are we done here?

No neurological damage, and the psychological trauma of the explosion...

certainly can account for the erratic behavior.

Who says I've been acting erratic?

Oh, come on. Let's face it. You were found outside a manhole cover on street level.

-You're lucky to be alive. -It wasn't luck. I was saved.

- Saved? -you didn't tell him about the dream?

It's not a dream.

It's like I'm reliving a moment in time...

separate from anything I've ever done or said.

But... I can see it, taste it and feel it.

It's after the explosion. I'm trapped.

This support beam is about to do a guillotine number on me when...

she comes out of the smoke and saves me.

- Who saves you? - My mother.

Hit me with your best shot, Freud.

Dreams, like any psychological phenomenon...

are really a reflection of your soul.

It's not a dream.

The person who saved me was my mother.

-She told me my father knew all the secrets. -What secrets?

Don't know.

But I plan to find out.

Hmm.

Doesn't make sense. Her mother's been dead since she was a little girl.

How could she save her?

She couldn't.

But whoever did I hope saved Jarod as well.

No!

128 channels, there's nothing on TV?

Welcome back to the living, brother. How do you feel?

Like I jumped from a train. What are you doing?

Oh, uh, I was just, uh- I was just looking at the D. S. A.

- Quite a life I had, huh? - Yeah. The Centre pretty much recorded all of it.

Why did they do those experiments on you?

Not experiments-simulations.

Because you're a Pretender. You can become anyone you wanna be-

doctor, lawyer, even an astronaut if you want.

Yes. But I don't know who I am.

It's your mother.

Since I've escaped the Centre, I've been searching for her...

for any information about the life I never had.

You know, it seems like Ms. Parker's always watching you and following you.

Your half sister. She's quite a consistent, I'll give her that.

-She wants you back, you know. -Some things never change.

It's been four days since the explosion in the D. C. Underground.

And amazingly, there have been no reports of fatalities.

-The damage was millions of dollars. -I hope she made it.

-The subway hub has been completely rerouted. - She did.

-Was there something on the news? -No. The voices.

Your inner-sense, the voices that speak to you.

-They told me that she was safe. -Then we won't be.

The Centre will come for us. They always do.

Breaking news now from N. S. A. headquarters.

A masked terrorist posing as a Russian pilot has killed a diplomat...

on the tarmac of National Airport...

then shot a second victim, who we've been told is an N. S. A. agent...

identified as Edward Ballinger.

Ballinger, who remains comatose at County Hospital...

was attempting to stop the assassination of the diplomat when he was wounded.

- Eddie. - You know him?

Yes.

Uh, I did.

He was a Pretender too.

Towards the end of my captivity, I found out

that there were others in the Pretender program.

They kept us separated for the most part.

But then I- I found Eddie, uh...

and we did something-

something special.

We escape tonight.

Daddy?

Daddy, are you here?

Hello? I don't think anybody's here.

- Huh. - Hello.!

Unless he's eating beef and merlot for breakfast, he was here last night.

Something tells me he wasn't watching an old Western movie.

What do you want?

Your father was watching a D. S. A. of you and Mr. Raines?

It's the last time I saw Mr. Raines alive.

Before she died, my mother said something about her unfinished work...

about her plan.

-What did she mean by that?-It's about what everything's about, Ms. Parker.

It's about the Centre-all the lies.

Just remember, whatever answers your mother may have left behind...

there is still one person alive who does know the whole truth.

Who?

Daddy.

It's not right for my little girl to have blood like that on her hands.

Miss Parker, I'm getting a pretty weird feeling about this.

Everything about my family is weird...

including the last time I saw my father...

just after he murdered Raines.

Last time I saw father, he'd sculpted the shrubs into SnowWhite and the 7 dwarfs.

I guess everyone's family is weird in their own way.

Daddy's bed hasn't been slept in, and I think I know why.

Something must have spooked him, and while he was on the phone, he was attacked.

-Yeah, but who was he calling? -Let's find out.

This is Lyle. Hello?

Hello? Hello?

Dim sum and then some. You two look good enough to eat.

Hate to mess with your lunch plans, but we need to talk.

Is this one of those talks I get to participate in or just listen to?

-Where's our father? -I haven't seen him in days.

-Not even a phone call? -No messages. Is there a problem?

Yeah, he's not at home, and it appears he may have left under duress.

Well, I'm not calling up the cavalry on possibilities.

Like the possibility that in your present state you misinterpreted what you saw.

-And what state would that be? -We've all heard about your imagination...

running wild since the big bang.

I- I- I didn't say anything.

Speaking of which, word from the Sweeper team...

is thatJarod and Ethan both survived the explosion.

So I want the pursuit ofJarod back in full motion.

- Have you heard anything? - No.

Not even any voices from within?

Why don't you shove your nine fingers where the sun don't shine?

love to, but that would still leave me one to get tanned.

Oh, you-you got a new thumb?

Actually, it's a pre-owned model.

But I got a great deal on it, considering Mr. Raines wasn't using it anymore.

You harvested Mr. Raines thumb?

Waste not, want not.

Don't worry about Dad. He'll turn up. He always does.

-Ladies. -can't trust a man with a stolen thumb.

Check Frankenstein's phone records.

Find out if he's had any more contact with my father.

-What the hell's it mean? -It's Ballinger's investigation notes.

It looks like it's written backwards. I can't make heads or tails of it.

It says he feared the assassin would kill the Russian diplomat.

Looks like he was right.

It's written in Apache.

You can read Apache?

Come on. Apache.

It was a code that the Americans used during World War II.

This is the N. S. A.,isn't it?

-You have business with Agent Ballinger? -You know him?

-He's my partner. -Ah, Agent Zane. Thank you.

Agent Jarod Morse, your new partner.

I was sent by the agency to uncover and stop

the terrorist who attempted to kill Ballinger.

Top of your class at the academy. Doctorate with honors...

in antiterrorist tactics from Harvard, no less.

Huh. And yet I've never heard of you.

Well, I've heard of you. Agent Andrea Zane, middle of her class at the academy...

and a five and a half year criminology graduate at Crawford College.

-I do my homework. -That was my problem. I rarely did.

So what do we know about the assassin?

Not enough, that's for sure.

-I NFOSEC has code-named him the Chameleon. -Why Chameleon?

'Cause our bad boy's a genius who can become anybody he wants to be.

So what do you hear when you see all of the things Jarod worked on before he escaped?

The red notebooks, detailing the victimized people...

our twisted Robin Hood has helped...

the items of self-discovery that he's left behind since we've been chasing him-

What do you hear?

I hear the child desperately looking for his mother.

The man in a child's body, making these incredible discoveries.

And sometimes, I just hear...

a simple soul wondering who he really is.

And I hear my own voice, echoing with guilt...

because I contributed to the theft ofJarod's life.

I guess we can all hear that.

But not everyone can hear like you.

Mine are mostly memories...

things everyone experiences.

Yours, like your mother's before you...

are the planes of sensory perception.

The gift of the inner-sense.

When your mother rescues you in your vision...

that is what she's trying to tell you-

to focus on your inner-sense.

You sound unnaturally sure of yourself.

Aye! And that's what scares me so.

Tell me, Miss Parker...

in your vision, when your mother reaches out...

the glint of light from her tear-shaped diamond ring...

flashes in front of your eyes, does it not?

I didn't tell you about the ring.

But your mother did.

When she was your age...

she had that exact same vision, and she came to see me...

to ask for my help in developing her inner-sense...

to find out what it meant.

Will you do the same for me?

-I was afraid you would ask. -Why?

Shortly after I helped Catherine Parker...

she was gone.

We don't know how or why he's doing what he's doing...

but the Chameleon is an assassin who's been unmasking...

and then killing the N. S. A.'s deepest undercover spies.

- Is there any clue who he is? - Not a one.

The guy slides into a different skin everywhere he goes.

His last four personas were as an Arab sheikh, a Bosnian general...

an I. R. A. militia fighter, and the latest, of course, the Russian pilot.

But he never so much as leaves a fingerprint behind.

This guy loves to play, and right now we're in a major game of tag.

- Tag? - You're it.

Catch me if you can? You know, the kids' school yard game?

Um, they didn't play that where I went to school.

Those are the four victims so far.

Agent Ballinger was convinced that the Chameleon was planning...

two major assassinations on our soil...

that, in Chameleon's words, would affect "someone important to your world. "

The first was the Russian diplomat.

The second is anybody's guess.

-Is this Eddie's family? -Eddie has everything a person could want.

One day I'm gonna find my parents.

One day I'm gonna have a family of my own.

So will you.

You got a family, Jarod?

Hmm?

A family. You got one?

Trying to put one back together.

We've got a location on the Chameleon.

Third floor, center apartment.

-Assume he's armed and dangerous. -Full frontal assault.

Hold your fire.

- He's deflated. - We've been had.

Eddie certainly was right about this guy bein'a wing nut.

Clever... and dangerous.

This guy's crazier than we thought. It's really creepy.

Have C. S. I. scour this laugh factory.

- Find somethin'? - Oh, nothin'.

Well, keep lookin'.

There's gotta be some here that give us a clue to the Chameleon's real identity.

You have to relax, Parker.

Just close your eyes...

and breathe slowly.

In and out.

Let the breath oflife nurture your soul.

Nothing else matters.

Let yourself open up completely...

andjust listen.

Can you hear the voices?

It's more like static.

All I hear is "T. T."

"T. T."

"T. T."

"T. T."

"T. T."

What does this mean?

My face has been digitally attached to the bodies of these various photos.

-Why? -Someone is playing with my head.

And when someone plays with my head, it usually comes from one place.

You have a video phone call.

Jarod! You're alive.

Because of that fact, I get to enjoy another day being chased by the Centre.

I've gotta hand it to you though. Pinup posters as bait was truly inspired.

Inspired? We weren't even sure you had survived until this very moment.

Well, someone in Centre wonderland has manipulated an I. D. photo...

I made for an arson investigator pretend that I did several years ago.

Let me check the archive. I assure you, none of us have misused your image.

Somebody did. I need to find out who.

I'll see what I can do, Jarod.

- Double "T." - What did you say?

Double "T." The voices.

Her voice, uh, it keeps saying double "T."

T. T. I heard it too.

- Miss Parker. - Ethan.

- I'm glad you're alive. - I'm glad you're alive too.

Don't you know that nobody dies at the Centre?

My mother-

Our mother, Catherine, did.

And somehow the answers are tied to double "T."

Is double "T" a project, a- a case file...

or does it have something to do with me?

- Not to my knowledge. - Well, find out.

And I want the truth.

- So do I. - I'm on it.

-Why didn't you tell him about the Chameleon? -It was need-to-know.

They don't.

Here's my final recommendation on the airline simulation.

You seem angry.

I stole D. S. A.'s. I want my simulations.

The Centre takes my findings and twists them...

sells them to the highest bidder.

Instead of using them to prevent tragedies, they teach people to cause them.

-No, they couldn't. -They do.

They're never going to make me do another one.

I'm going to escape, Eddie.

And when I do, I'll come back and get you.

C. S. I. went through everything, from the oxygen in the inflatable clown...

to the water in the Super Soaker, and couldn't find so much as a suspicious fiber.

that would give us a clue as to who the Chameleon is.

-Agent Morse. -You got the photos I left for you?

Who are you?

I am you, and you are me.

We are one and the same.

Lighten up, man. It's a joke. You know, the nonsensical words of a disturbed man.

Any real N. S. A. agent would expect to hear from me.

That's not what you'd expect, is it, Jarod?

How do you know my name?

I guess that would be strange, hmm?

You must be so accustomed to being the only

one in the room who knows who you really are.

It's quite a rush, isn't it?

To sit in their midst, and they have no idea how superior we are to them.

So easy to look down upon. So easy to manipulate.

They so want to believe in who we pretend to be.

Well, this time you've been unmasked.

And I'm the unknown man.

I'll find out who you are.

As a matter of fact, I'm looking at your file now.

What a coincidence. I just happen to be reading one of yours.

And it tells me, Jarod, that you have a flaw in your character...

that makes you want to help people.

I do hope this won't make you an unworthy adversary.

Eddie was right. This is a game for you.

A game that poor Eddie lost.

Well, I hate to break it to you, but Agent Ballinger is still alive.

Game's not over. And I never make the same mistake twice.

He's awake now, you know.

Agent Ballinger just woke up.

Ballinger.

Oh-Oh. I give up. Don't shoot.

We thought you were in trouble.

- Jarod? - Uh, Agent... Morse.

-My God. -I must've missed the briefing.

Uh, Agent Morse and I are old friends.

From the academy training center?

Uh, yes. From the Centre.

-You never mentioned that to me. -No, I-I-I didn't.

Well, I'll give you boys a chance to catch up.

It is so good to see you.

What are you doing out of bed? Go back to bed.

I just got a minor cranial abrasion. I'll be fine.

Man, you're as stubborn now as you were at the Centre. Sit down.

Yeah, you have no idea. Oh, it's yours.

I'm a much better pickpocket now than I ever was a doctor.

-What are you doing? -A lot of strange things happened to me lately.

-I'm not quite sure who to trust. -Eddie, it's me. It's Jarod.

-Splitting up is our only chance. -Yes, I know.

Let's go find those families.

Good luck.

I'm sorry. I'm just-

I never knew if I would ever see you again.

I guess in my heart I always knew I would.

Hey, sit down.

I've been one step ahead of the Centre since we escaped.

I guess I'm lucky. Either they haven't found me, or they haven't looking.

-You find your family? -Some.

I'm still searching for my mother.

You'll find her, Jarod. Find 'em all, 'cause family are the thing that matters.

Well, I can see that.

-I thought maybe you'd like to have them close. -Thanks.

Well, if you've seen my desk...

and wearing that badge, I'll assume you're chasing after the Chameleon too.

Yes. Do you know who he is?

I don't know.

Jarod, before we escaped from the Centre that night...

I'd been running a simulation that you

didn't know anything about called Starpoints.

It was designed to create covert identities

for the N. S. A.'s top five undercover agents.

A few months ago, those very agents started being killed.

Now, the Chameleon beat me to number four...

but he won't beat me to number five.

The Chameleon obviously knows about my sim.

And for some reason, at the very moment that he shot me...

I got a... strange feeling that he knew me as well.

I feel like he knows me too.

Eddie, do the initials "T. T." mean anything to you?

Double "T"? Well, it couldn't be him, could it?

Him?

Eddie?

Jarod.

Did you see him? Did you see the Chameleon?

Jarod.

It was... a dead man.

A dead man? Eddie. Eddie.

Roger. F. A. A. checking trace on helicopter serial number.

You said the voices you heard kept saying double "T."

I believe that "T. T." is a man with ties to the Centre.

I need to know who that man is.

I'll do my best.

T. T.

Tommy.

Mom?

Give me your hand.

I don't understand.

Ask your father.

He knows all the secrets.

Miss Parker!

- You okay, Broots? - Yeah.

I have more empathy for roadkill than I did a second ago.

- But, yeah, I'm fine. - Double "T."

Oh, well, I started with Centre personnel files...

and found a dozen names with the initials T. T.

Out of those, I found one with a familiar Centre history.

Dr. Tommy Thompson. He was a Centre research psychiatristjust like Sydney.

And he was transferred to Cairo less than a week afterJarod escaped.

You don't think that's a coincidence, do you?

Coincidence ain't in the Centre dictionary. Get in.

They're gonna kill me, Jarod. The Centre is going to kill me.

-What are you talking about? -The Centre's terminating my program.

They're gonna kill me.

You have a family out there, Eddie.

So do I. You're coming with me.

You designed your escape plan for one person only.

Well, I'll make it work for two.

I'm not going to let anything happen to you.

Eddie was a lucky guy.

He seemed to have had it all.

-Did you know him well? -He was caring and had a good heart.

-But? -I had the feeling he was hidin' somethin'.

Like he was lookin' over his shoulder.

He seemed to feel so alone somehow.

Well, even people that seem to have it all...

have their demons.

That feeling I got from Eddie...

I get the same from you.

I may not know Apache, but I know electronics.

It's a wireless tap.

Record is linked to my laptop.

If the Chameleon calls again, we've got him.

- Good thinking. - By the way...

any idea why the Chameleon got in touch with you?

Any luck, this is the next time.

Are you gonna answer that?

-Agent Morse. -Congratulations on your inheritance.

- Inheritance? - The case. The case.

Eddie's little investigation of yours truly.

By the way, the chopper pilot...

you'll find him in a field near Meadow Springs.

Uh, send a coroner.

-What do you want? -I want to see what happens...

when I kill someone important to your world.

If this is a game, at least fill me in on your rules.

Ah, if I told all of our secrets to the other agents listening in...

it wouldn't be much of a game, now, would it, Jarod?

Have a nice day.

We've got the trace. It's a marine line from a boat in Delaware.

Someplace called Blue Cove.

Sorry, Parker. What I remember of Dr. Tommy Thompson...

is that he was recruited to the Centre by Mr. Raines.

Come on, Syd. There must be something else.

It's been a long time, but I seem to remember your father actively disliked him.

Disliked him? Why?

I never knew.

Maybe my inner-sense is telling me...

that Dr. Thompson wants to hurt Daddy.

The question is, where is he?

I can't tell you where Thompson is, but he is not in- Cairo.

The facility has no record of him ever working there.

- You sure, Broots? - 100%.

But there is someone trying to find him here.

Before I could get them, the Thompson files were already accessed by-

Mr. Lyle.

True to form, the Chameleon left it clean.

- No prints, hairs, nothin'. - Great.

Jarod?

Jarod, are you okay? You don't look so well.

Never been very comfortable in this part of the world.

You're gonna wanna take a look at this.

It's just through here.

Toys, Twinkies, cookies, Pez.

Ask me, the Chameleon's searchin' for a lost childhood.

Jarod?

Lost childhood or no, the Chameleon is not without culture.

Wait a minute.

The guy watches opera, but doesn't listen to it?

Uh, excuse me. What's going on here?

N. S. A. official investigation. You are?

-Mr. Lyle. -What's your business here?

I'm, uh, with the company. Happy to help any way I can.

Did you or anybody else happen to see where this boat came from?

- Not to my knowledge. Fellas? - No.

No, whatever got this boat here is damn smart.

The waters are restricted. Our security people enforce that.

What is it you guys do up here?

Research. We're, uh, like a think tank. Guinea pigs.

-So you'll be wrapping up soon? -It won't be much longer now.

Mr. Lyle, your thumb is bleeding.

Oh, um, I guess, uh...

robbing body parts isn't what it used to be.

Right.

You are correct, Jarod. Your photo was cut from an old I. D.

There's something else I need to know. A simulation called Starpoints.

It's about the identities of undercover N. S. A. agents.

-Wasn't that Dr. Thompson's project? -Dr. Tommy Thompson.

You're the second person to bring up that name today.

Let me guess- Miss Parker.

- Yes. - I need names, Sydney.

Answers about that simulation. Lives depend on it.

Mind if I thumb a ride?

Not now, Sis.

Did you know that whenever you call me "Sis"...

someone either dies or disappears?

It's late. And so am I.

Big rendezvous with T. T.? You probably know him as Dr. Tommy Thompson.

- Stay out of it. - Love to. Can't.

So, what in the hell are you hiding?

What in the hell are you smoking?

Why is it that every time your planets don't quite line up...

you go right to the conspiracy card and come after me?

You want donkey spit, you find an ass.

-Sell me a vowel, Parker. -No, I'll give you the whole puzzle.

Your buddy, Dr. Thompson, is somehow tied to our mother.

Your inner-sense voice tell you that?

Be careful, Sis. Don't go believing everything you hear.

It's Daddy, isn't it?

If I find out anything has happened to our father and you knew about it...

there won't be enough spare body parts

in Blue Cove to piece your ass back together.

This is Lyle. Cut off his anesthesia.

I'm coming down to see him now, and I need him alert.

Let's see where the rat scurries.

You think your father's in there?

Based on what we've seen down here before, I sure hope not.

- Raines. - I thought he was dead.

Not anymore.

I want it back.

And I want answers.

And if you won't give 'em to me, I'll spread the rest of you around...

like a download from Napster.

It's like a big riddle, Jarod. All these things seem to be tied together.

Maybe the photos are just about your face...

but maybe the message is in all this other stuff.

That would be too obvious, and the Chameleon knows it.

He said this was a game...

and he wanted me to dig for answers.

Look at that. His hand is forming the sign language for the letter"G."

"H."

"O."

G- H-O-What?

S- T.

The Chameleon is trying to tell me he's a ghost.

It was like something right out of Scooby-Doo.

Here's monster Mr. Raines chained down in some weird cellar...

and Master Lyle comes to pay him a visit.

I can't believe Raines is alive.

But for how long? Lyle wasn't exactly tucking him in with a good-night mint.

It is quite possible that Raines is our

final link to your mother and to Dr. Thompson.

-Which is why we need him alive. -Let me know the second...

Lyle so much as peeks out from under his rock.

Hey.!

You never did tell me why the Chameleon said"our secrets"

You said it yourself- He's toying with us.

Saying things like "our secrets" divides us, makes us question our loyalties.

-Obviously, it's working. -Jarod, this was left at reception for you.

Gonna open it?

My notebook.

I left it in a taxi.

Thoughtful guys, those cabbies.

Are you good at keepin' secrets, Agent Tracer?

Federal government seems to think so.

I want everything you can dig up on Jarod Morse.

My eyes only.

Why are you crying, Mom?

I like your crow, Jarod.

Oh, it's not a crow. It's Onisius, the Greek god of retribution.

Well, that's not what he told me.

- Who? - Him.

Alex.

Lyle.

I just e-mailed you the address Raines gave me. Did you get it?

Good.

You want what?

The emphysema freak's a harmless puddle in a wheelchair now. You-

Okay. Uh, yes, sir. Yeah.

Okay. Consider Raines a dead man.

Miss Parker. Miss Parker, it's me.

All filled up and nowhere to go?

Leave me alone. I'm in enough pain without you.

Listen up, Dr. Moreau.

A bird has whispered into my ear that hunting season just opened..

and you're the prize kill.

Now that gives you exactly two choices-

Either you answer my questions...

and I consider saving your pathetic carcass...

or I leave you here to have your parts picked

clean like a beat-up Buick in a chop shop.

What's it gonna be, sport?

I'm listening.

I wanna know about Dr. Tommy Thompson.

I knew him. He worked here.

If I tell you any more than that, I might have to talk about your mother.

Talk.

After I'm safely out of here.

Miss Parker, someone's coming.

You were saying about my mother?

It was Catherine who insisted I hire Dr. Thompson.

-Was he her lover? -I don't know. They had a history together.

Being lovers would explain why my father never liked Dr. Thompson.

Your father didn't like Thompson because he blamed him for Jarod's escape.

Tommy Thompson never had anything to do with Jarod.

Why would Mr. Parker blame him forJarod's escape?

I can't believe you didn't know.

Didn't know?

Jarod didn't escape alone.

Three of us escaped that night-

me, Eddie and a third Pretender named Alex.

And you think that this Alex is the Chameleon?

A ghost is the Chameleon.

Sweeper 211, prepare for nightly lockdown.

Lockdown complete.

Oh. Ah.

Come on. Come on.

Sweeper 211, report in.

Sweeper 211, report in.

What'd you give him?

A natural sedative that I derived from the dust and mold in my room.

-Jarod, they'll see us. -They already have. Come on.

Why weren't we told about the other escapees?

The cover-up directive came from high up.

- The Tower? - My father?

- Triumvirate? - I don't know.

I do know this.

The cover-up, it was all about the Pretender named Alex.

Good luck, Jarod.

Alex, they said they transferred you out of here.

They're liars.

I've never begged before.

I don't know if three of us can make it...

but we're going to try.

- They escaped.! - One more to go!

Jarod!

Jarod.!

- Alex, help! - Come on!

- Are you okay? - Thank God you made it.

Yes. Come on.

Ooh!

It's sealed!

- Jarod. - Vapor release valves.

They know we're here. Cover your faces!

Alex! No!

Hang on! I've got you!

No. Don't let me fall, Jarod.

H- Hang on. Don't let me fall!

Don't let me fall!

No!

- I couldn't save him. - Alex died?

-Or so I thought. -Eddie, the other Pretender, got away.

- Eddie? - A subpar Pretender.

Once we realized thatJarod was the only Pretender of value...

the search for Eddie stopped.

-What about Alex? -He was found in the Rehydration Core...

nursed back to health and shipped out.

-Where? -I never heard anything more about it.

- It's not fair. - About Alex?

I can only imagine what the last five years have done to him.

If this other Pretender, Alex, is somehow tied to Dr. Thompson..

then maybe their paths lead to my father.

What do you want?

I want everything.

Why, Mr. Parker, you look mad enough to kill me.

But you can't. I'm already dead.

Tell me you found Tommy Thompson.

No, but I finally cracked Mr. Lyle's phone archive.

That's the call he received from your father.

Lyle, listen to me. Your madman is inside my house.

Now, damn it, do something!

Hey.! Hey, you.! G-Get away from me.!

Dad? Dad, are y-you okay?

Dad.!

- That's where it ends. - No, Scooby-Doo.

That's where it begins.

- I'm good. - All right, Mr. Lyle.

Boo.

God! You scared the-

It's called crap, Lyle.

And as full of it as you are, I'm sure you have some to spare.

Looking for something? Or should I say someone?

What are you talking about?

I'm talking about the alive-and- kicking, emphysema-ridden ghoul...

you're harvesting for body parts.

-Then you know Raines is alive. -I know a little about a lot-

Raines, Tommy Thompson and your madman, Alex.

What I don't know is why.

It's simple- survival.

Alex kidnapped our father...

and he's made it clear he'll kill him if I don't carry out his every wish.

-Why wasn't I told? -When it comes to psychos, Alex is the real deal.

The more I contained this, the better I thought Dad's chances would be.

-Like hell. -Lyle, listen to me. Your madman is-

Daddy called him "your madman. "

Now, you tell me why, or I'm returning this to Mr. Raines.

God, you're a crazy bitch.

You don't know the half of it.

All right, all right.!

After the escape, I took Alex to Africa.

The Triumvirate assigned him to me.

It was an impossible task-I tried to mold him, but this guy, he's way too evil..

way too whacked to be pliable.

Sounds like you two are birds of a feather.

Jeffrey Dahmer would be afraid to flock with this guy.

No matter what I did to control him, he fought it.

He started reporting directly to the Triumvirate...

gleefully carrying out their dirty work.

Whatever it is he's doing for them now, he seems to have added another wrinkle.

"Wrinkle"?

Payback of some kind.

He's hell-bent on revenge on anyone from his Centre past.

Like killing our father.

Which he may have already done.

No.

Daddy's still alive.

But Alex will kill him.

- You found my father. - No. Tommy Thompson.

I cracked the encryption on Double-T's file...

and found that Dr. Thompson's transfer to Cairo

was a cover-up for where he was really sent.

-Which was? -Where the Centre sends people..

when they want their gray matter Martinized.

- The Renewal Wing. - Exactly.

They sent Thompson there for reeducation.

- Let's go. - Uh, no.

- He's not there anymore. - Where is he?

Good news, bad news.

The good news is, after he was released they set him up in Westbrook, Maryland.

- Bad news? - The bad news is...

there are two addresses in Westbrook where he might be.

Good news, bad news, Broots. You take one, I'll take the other.

Miss Parker's in trouble. I gotta help her.

I gotta help her.

Jarod.

- I found Tommy Thompson. - Where?

Two addresses in Westbrook, Maryland. I'm faxing them to you now.

-Jarod, I'm going. -You're going where? To Thompson's?

No, to see Miss Parker, my sister.

She's in trouble. I have to warn her.

-To warn her about what? -I can't explain it right now. Okay?

-I love you, brother. I have to go. -Ethan-

Pick it up!

- I've lost audio. - Can you still trace?

Uh, yeah.

Morse.

Four rings. I was starting to think you were avoiding me, buddy.

I'm not your buddy, Alex.

-Took you long enough to figure out it was me, genius. -I thought you were dead.

A lifetime has passed since I died, just like a lifetime has happened for you.

A big difference, though-

I've dedicated myself to eradicating the insignificant...

and you've chosen to help them-

the crippled, the abused, the, uh, mentally challenged.

They all seem to have you as their advocate now. Don't they, Jarod?

Like I said, it's a flaw in your character.

It's almost as if you're trying to heal thyself through your works of kindness.

You know nothing about what I do.

Oh, you've left your mark.

Mysterious doctor saves crippled boy.

Fireman saves estranged family.

Abused elders saved by reclusive industrialist.

But to what end?

I mean, does it make you feel more like a real person, Jarod? Is that it?

Listen, you do yourself a favor.

Stop trying to be like them, like a real person with a real past.

You and I aren't and never will be.

What was robbed of us at the Centre does

not have to be the arbiter of who we are now.

It doesn't? Oh. Okay.

Then you tell me one thing of any permanence in your life.

One thing that means anything. And don't say family, please.

Those you have found, those you haven't, have to hide from you...

in order to stay safe from the danger that permeates your entire existence.

See, the Centre still has that power over you, Jarod.

Me, I took that power away.

-What are you talking about? -Didn't you read the paper today?

It's in the top drawer of your desk. Sorry I missed you on my route this morning.

See, by taking the lives of my own family, I stole the Centre's power.

I forever released myself from emotional bondage to the boys in Blue Cove.

- You're insane. - No, Jarod.

I am free, and now they can't hurt me anymore.

And that makes it my turn.

- Eddie was one of us. - Eddie knew too much.

-And what about me? -I'm sowing the seeds of your destruction now.

Got it.!

We've got the trace. It's an address registered

to a T. Thompson in Westbrook, Maryland.

I know.

Perfect.

Dr. Thompson?

Tommy Thompson?

Mom?

What the hell is going on?

Oh, my God.

No!

Perfect.

Here! I'm over here!

Miss Parker. Miss Parker.!

-I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. -I don't understand.

How could you be?

Here, give me your hand.

It was a premonition, not a dream.

Tommy Thompson's not here.

-Then he must be at the other address. -Let's go!

What do you got?

A very dead Tommy Thompson.

Please! Please! Don't shoot!

-Oh, my gosh. -You have the right to remain silent.

And I suggest you do.

Cuff him.

Where's Broots?

Bad news all around, I'm afraid. Broots never got back or called.

And as for Raines, he was gone when I got back here several hours ago.

Probably got one of his werewolves-in- training to drag his butt out of here.

No doubt he's holed up in the woods somewhere...

licking his wounds till the next full moon rises.

Any luck finding Dr. Thompson?

No. We went to the second Thompson address.

There were police cars there and there was an ambulance pulling away.

-You don't think that Broots- -Let's hope not, Syd.

You'll keep me posted if you hear from him?

Besides claiming he had nothing to do with

the murder, this wimp won't give us his name.

Give me 5 minutes with him, I'll give you enough information to write his biography.

I'll stay, thanks.

So, you won't talk. Is that it?

I don't know what to say.

-Why don't we start with your name. -It's Broots.

But I don't think I should say anything else.

Why not? I mean, did we offend you by bringing you here today?

We are sorry, but the fact that we found

you hiding at the scene of a capital murder..

did give us probable cause.

Still won't talk. Well, I guess something really must have you spooked.

Or should I say someone.

Okay, if you're so smart...

then why don't you tell us?

Hands like butter, with little calluses on the end of each fingertip...

screams "computer geek. "

The dull, sunken, withdrawn look in his eye says "Internet porn junkie. "

These clothes, they say "unemployed. "

And that corpse-like complexion says "recluse. "

This little indentation...

on your second finger, left hand, says you just removed your wedding band.

Naughty boy.

If you can believe that somebody actually goes to bed with this.

No, this loser here, he had nothing to do with the murder.

He's right. N- Not about the loser part.

-Shut up. How do you figure? -Cough if I get off track, Mr. Broots.

Our married, unemployed Web-whacker here was at the scene of the crime..

because he made a date with a woman he met on the Internet.

Were you planning a little afternoon rendezvous, Mr. Broots?

Let me guess.

Your Internet fantasy girl, she's tall,

slender, leggy, has a penchant for leather...

has sharp claws and an even sharper tongue?

Um, usually.

Fantasy Girl must've realized what a geek you were and gave you the wrong address?

Not wanting to park the family Gremlin in front of Chat Room Charlene's...

hitched a ride.

And when he gets there, nobody's home.

But the door is open.

So you let yourself in, you found the body...

you heard the police pulling up...

and you hid in the closet.

And that, as they say, is that.

Isn't it, Mr. Dot-com?

-Dead on. -I'll check out his story.

In the meantime...

put him down in the hole.

The hole?

Why did you come for me?

Mother's voice told me to.

She told you to save me?

Just to go, even though I had been there before, sorta.

-What do you mean? -I've had this repeating vision.

I'm in a burning room...

and this woman emerges from the smoke to save me.

She's wearing this ring...

and the reflection off the ring is so bright...

that I've always thought of it as like a beacon for her.

She's our mother.

Yes, I know that now...

because you look just like her.

Tell me everything that you can remember about her. Please.

The information on that Broots character.

Guy checks outjust like you said.

Spring him.

- Yes? - I found it, Jarod.

I found the Starpoint sim.

I know there were five undercover agents-

a Bosnian labor leader, a Russian diplomat...

an Irish priest and an Arab oil minister.

I need to know the name of the fifth undercover agent.

It's a she. An ambassador from Sweden.

A Hilga Ulfsoon.

Ulfsoon. Thank you, Sydney.

Yes, I need the number for the Swedish embassy please.

Thank you.

4:00.

The Chameleon is not without culture.

Zane, I got the results on thoose fingerprint from the murder scene.

You're never gonna believe whose print it is.

Jarod is our Chameleon?

Where is he?

That's it? I just walk out of here?

- Jarod! - No, you just run out of here.

It's Zane. I wanna blanket -A. P. B. AgentJarod Morse.

I don't know why and I don't know how, butJarod is our Chameleon.

Sounds like she was an amazing woman.

She always was to me.

That's why it's so important that I find out what she meant...

about my father knowing all the secrets.

It may sound strange...

but I've always thought that she was looking out for me...

like a guardian angel.

She has been.

- What? - It's me, Angel.

-Daddy? I've been so worried. Where- -Listen to me.

I need you to come to the Southshore Shipyards, berth 20, at 5:00...

and I need you to come alone.

-I will, but- -You're my last hope, Angel.

Daddy- Daddy?

I'm having a breakdown here.

-Shut up and let me think. -You know what I think?

I need to check into a clinic. Wouldn't that be a laugh?

What clinic would I check into? I tell them

about my world, they'd be convinced I was crazy.

- Where are we going? - The opera.

The opera? I hate the opera. There's no hot dogs, no popcorn.

-Shut up. -I'm- I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

When I'm nervous, I talk, and right now I've got a lot to be nervous about.

First there's the explosion in the D. C. Underground.

Then Ms. Parker seeing visions. Then Mr. Raines

getting murdered and then unmurdered.

And then Lyle, who used to not have a thumb, getting a thumb.

And Mr. Raines, who had a thumb, losing his thumb to Mr. Lyle.

And then finding out that not only one Pretender escaped from the Centre-No!

Three of them did!

Then trying to locate a live psychiatrist, only to find a dead doc.

And being arrested by a guy who's not really a federal agent.

And while we're at it, why don't we just throw Mr. Parker into the mix.

What about Mr. Parker?

- Well, he was kidnapped. - Kidnapped?

-by the guy, Alex-the other Pretender. -I'm letting you off here.

- Get out! - Why? Okay.

Get out!

I'm- I'm having a breakdown here.

Dispatch, put me through to an agent named Zane.

Shots fired at the opera house.

Officer needs assistance. Stay down!

The ambassador is still alive, Alex!

Your little game of tag is over. Looks like you're not going to win this time.

You have to know what game you're playing...

before anyone can win anything.

How the Centre could ever think I was second to you amazes me to this day.

Sure, you can perfect any simulation.

Once Mr. Altruism was finished, who do you think

they brought in to corrupt your findings? Huh?

What?

Who do you think made the planes crash that you made so safe?

Who found and murdered the witnesses you gave new identities to?

-Turned your vaccine into an epidemic? -You bastard!

Tell me, Mr. Altruism...

where was your flaw in character the night we escaped?

Eddie and I tried to save you. You know that.

What I know is that while you walked around free...

I was shipped off to the Triumvirate and turned into their puppet.

They needed a backup Pretender while they were out searching for you?

Well, I'm not a backup anymore.

Starpoints was just a way for you to show the Triumvirate how talented you were.

-And Eddie found out, didn't he? -Eddie was a speed bump.

Jarod, you turned a routine Triumvirate assignment...

into something wonderfully personal to me.

Luring you was simple.

That flaw in your character made it so easy.

Always risking your life for somebody who's not important to your world.

The ambassador is important to the world.

Not the world. Your world.

The Swedish ambassador? She's nothing to your world.

But Miss Parker is.

In fact, you have no idea how important to your life she really is.

And after today, you'll never know.

Alex? Alex. Alex! Alex.

Jarod, freeze!

Ma'am, this guy didn't shoot the ambassador-he saved her life.

Andrea, I know you have questions about me, and rightfully so.

But I can catch the Chameleon if you just let me go, alone.

-No way. -You once told me that Eddie had a big heart.

There was something about me that reminded you ofhim.

I know you have questions, but I don't think

you question that my heart is in the right place.

Please. Trust me.

- Hello? - Where's Miss Parker?

The Southside Shipyard.

Daddy. Daddy, where are you?

Daddy.

What took you so long?

-Daddy, I've been trying. -Untie me.

We gotta get out of here before that sick bastard gets back.

Too late.

That sick bastard is already here.

So nice to finally meet you, Miss Parker.

Damn it. There's gotta be a way to get out of this.

Something that'll make you happy, you psychopath.

Oh, I am happy, Mr. Parker. But there is something I'd like to clarify.

I'm not a psychopath.

I'm a sociopath. There's a difference.

You see, a psychopath is insane. He can't distinguish between wrong and right.

A sociopath knows the difference.

He just doesn't have a conscience. You know?

So he doesn't care.

It was that conscience that your people took away from me.

So now, blowing your brains out or eating a Popsicle is all the same to me.

Why shoot him?

'Cause he's the one who thought I was inferior toJarod...

the one who sent me to the Triumvirate.

But I am not second toJarod.

And if either of you were to be alive to read

tomorrow's paper, you'd see that point was proven.

- Can I ask you one thing? - What's that?

For years I've been searching for the secrets that only my father knows.

I came to ask him.

Well, that is ironic and funny, isn't it, Pops?

Ironic?

-You're right about your father knowing the secrets. -Then why funny?

He's not your father.

Alex.

Daddy!

Daddy.

It isn't supposed to happen this way.

There's so much you need to know.

No!

There's nowhere left to go, Alex.

Well, there's one place.

Come back in.

What was done to you, what was done to me, was inexcusable...

but it's not worth dying for.

-Let me help you. -Why would you want to help me?

I have a flaw in my character. Remember?

No, thanks.

It doesn't have to end this way.

You don't know what you're saying, Jarod.

I know that there is always hope- always.!

There's no hope for me or for you.

Do you have any idea what they would do to me if they got me back?

Do you even know why they want you back so much?

Why they've been chasing you for five years?

You don't really think it's about being a Pretender, do you?

What are you talking about?

You have no idea who you really are.

You find your mom yet?

No.

Well, they're never gonna let that happen.

Why not?

And they thought you were the smart one.

No! Alex!

- I've got you. - No, Jarod.

If you save me, you win.

But if I fall, only you lose.

No!

I don't understand.

Ask your father.

He knows all the secrets.

- What? - It's Jarod.

Consider yourself lucky to be sure of even that.

-Did they find Alex's body? -Not as far as I know.

But I don't often get told the truth.

Well, you sound as worn down as I feel.

The word is "lost,"Jarod, and it's getting dark fast.

For starters, I don't know where Broots is.

And Ethan is gone. I don't know if he left or if he was taken.

-Taken? -He started a note he never finished.

-But there's no sign of struggle. -And what about your father?

Unconscious and in intensive care at the Centre...

ifhe is my father.

All of which leaves me wondering just exactly who I am.

-Welcome to the club. -Tell me the truth. Do you know if he's my father?

Do you know why the Centre wants me back so badly?

Is it just because I'm a Pretender?

Or is it something else?

Even if I knew, I couldn't tell you.

Then I guess that leads us down the same dead end-all secrets, no answers.

You have mail.

Hang on.

You are not gonna believe what I just got.

Our mothers.

Together.

This is the key to the biggest secret of all.

Then the first one who finds the answers...

wins.

Your mail has been sent.

We're even now, my children.

Godspeed.

Genius...

or madness?