All language subtitles for Person of interest s01e11

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system.

A machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.

I know because I built it.

I designed the machine to detect
acts of terror, but it sees everything.

Violent crimes involving
ordinary people.

People like you.

Crimes the government
considered irrelevant.

They wouldn't act,
so I decided I would.

But I needed a partner.

Someone with the skills to intervene.

Hunted by the authorities,
we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator,
if your number's up, we'll find you.

Got eyes on Reese. Kill the cameras.

Time to come home, John.
Slate's been wiped clean.

You know that will never happen.

Third one tonight.
Must be a full moon.

Your name is Farouk Madani.
You were the best surgeon in Najaf.

You can't afford a license in the States,
you send your money home to family.

Stitch him up.
No questions asked.

And you can be a doctor again.

Police. Everybody out.

N.Y.P.D. Come out of there.

Is there a problem, detective?

Are you guys this sloppy
when you tail Al-Qaeda?

Cute place.
You gonna be out for a while?

Right.
This isn't you being sloppy at all.

This is you making a point.

You're the only person
who's had contact with our boy.

If I hear from him, you'll be the first
to know. But all this? Unnecessary.

Is it? You know, I was really surprised
he was able to slip away.

I just can't figure how he did it.

Not my case anymore.
So you have fun with that.

I don't like this any more
than you do, Carter.

Watching someone night and day,
you never know what you'll dig up.

I've seen it ruin careers, families.

Threatening a police officer
is against the law, Mr. Snow.

So is lying to a federal agent.

I'll be seeing you.

Okay, where would you keep?

This guy's his partner and it turns out
I've had his phone number for weeks, now.

The number
you have reached is not in service.

You're gonna use my computer,
you gotta do my reports too.

Hi, Detective Carter, N.Y.P.D.

I need all the locations data you've got
on a disconnected cell phone.

Yeah, name's Burdett, Norman.
917-555-0131.

- So who's this guy?
- That's what I'm trying to find out.

I thought
these folks were just for your boss.

Sorry about all the cloak-and-dagger.

So, what brings you up from D. C?

You.
- Ah, I'm flattered, Alicia.

Don't be. My people want answers.

Your company's had
the NSA feeds for three years.

Not my company. Just me.

If Congress knew about this
machine you're building...

...about the unfettered access
we've given you...

...to all the data
we're compiling on U.S. Citizens...

...you wouldn't just be shut down,
you'd go to jail.

I don't suppose
they'd let us be cellmates?

We need progress, Nathan,
or we're pulling the plug.

- What's this?
- It's progress.

Nine digits?
- You work in intelligence.

Figure it out.

For once, I'd like you
to handle one of these meetings...

...while I lurk in the shadows.

- You couldn't lurk if you tried.
- Heh.

That number we gave her
better pan out.

It will.

How?

I don't know.

But the machine does.

- Have a little faith, Nathan.
- In you, or in the machine?

Okay, Mr. Hayes, this is the place.

Watch your step...

Uh, not your step, I mean...
It's just one of those things people say.

You know, no offense.

Uh, we got ramps all over the place,
so if you need anything...

I'll be on my feet in a few days.

Yeah, but if anything goes wrong,
you call me. I'm the super.

Name is Trask. I tell you that already?

Twice.

I guess I'm getting old.

It seems like yesterday
I was partying till dawn down in Miami.

Used to own six nightclubs down there.

Mansion in Coral Gables,
a white Bengal tiger.

I had to give all that up.
Bad for my health.

What about you? Where you from?

What do you do?
How'd you wind up in that chair?

I had a rough night.

Okay. Here are the keys.
You need anything...

...my number's on that lease.
The name is... You know.

Everything satisfactory, Mr. Reese?

Nice place.

You really shouldn't have gone
to this much trouble.

No trouble.
I thought you'd get tired of hotels.

And in your condition
I felt that something a bit more...

...low-profile was in order.

Where's our pal Snow?

Preoccupied with Detective Carter.

- She all right?
- Not that I don't share your concern...

...for the woman who tried to hand
you over to the CIA...

She did let us go. Just...

Keep an eye on her for me for a while,
while I'm resting up.

About that...

I'm not here to rest, am I?

I'm afraid the machine
waits for no man.

So who's the next number
on your list?

- You just met him.
- The super?

- Mr. James, got that shower head for you.
- Okay, thanks.

- How you doing, Mrs. Park?
- Oh, fine.

Ease up on the phone, Aaron,
it'll nuke your brain.

Lily the cook. I love how you look.

Thanks, Ernie.
You write that one yourself?

Ernest P. Trask, 51 years old.

Born in Goodland, Florida, population 394.

Small towns aren't
paragons of digital recordkeeping...

...but I did verify
he got a high school diploma.

Let me guess,
no nightclubs, no mansions.

No pet tigers.

Mr. Trask seems to have
a vivid imagination.

Don't you have anything to unpack?

I travel light.
Any idea what the threat is?

Not yet.

He's been the super for 14 years,
lives and works in the same place.

So whatever's going to happen
with Trask, it will probably happen here.

- How many in the building?
- Two hundred forty-one.

- So 241 suspects.
- Or maybe just one.

I took the liberty of hacking
into Trask's online phone bill.

He called three pawn shops last week,
the kind that specialize...

...in off-the-books sales
of untraceable handguns.

Trask might be planning
to kill somebody.

- You didn't get me anything?
- Coffee is for closers.

I got you a clear shot at Reese
and you whiffed.

I wasn't aiming to kill.

You said you wanted to question him
about Ordos.

If possible. Secondary objective.

What's she up to?

Near as we can tell,
catching up on paperwork.

She's not using her computer
or phones.

Reese?

People checking every hospital,
clinic, and morgue in a 300-mile radius.

If anybody stitched him up,
we'll pick up a scent.

I hope you don't mind,
but in addition to the necessary hardware...

...I brought a few books
for you to read...

...and a little housewarming gift.

- Thanks.
- Want to try it out?

Oh, no, I'm good for now.

You'll thank me later.

You know, Trask may seem harmless,
but I've been fooled before.

If he bought a gun,
I'd just like to know why.

Only one way to find out.

We're going to hack his Wi-Fi.
- We're gonna hack all of them.

If the threat's here,
we should know our neighbors.

You're into 16 networks already?

When the phone company
puts in your Wi-Fi...

...the password is your number.
Most people never change.

The other ones might actually
take a minute.

Once we're in, we can turn every
webcam, nanny cam, security system...

...and laptop on the network
into our eyes and ears.

- Just like the machine.
- I suppose.

If one apartment building
were the entire world.

Well, Lily the cook seems to be
dating Rick from the penthouse.

Hmm.
- And Amber in 714 is...

...healthy.

Somehow I doubt
that's what alerted the machine.

Got one, Finch. Doug Stanley, security
guard. He's been hunting a thief...

...who's been stealing jewelry
out of women's apartments.

Maybe Trask is the thief, planning
to kill Doug to cover his crimes.

Or Trask knows the thief,
and now they plan to kill him.

That's the landlord, Alan Holt.

Doesn't look like
Trask is the employee of the month.

Maybe he's about to snap
and kill his boss.

Why did the machine give us his number?

Is Trask in trouble
or is he the problem?

You're not gonna get it staring at the wall.

We need to do some legwork.

Right.

I'm in position. Make a quick vis.

Mr. Trask? It's John Hayes in 521.

- I'm having a bit of a problem.
- I'll be right there.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

I've planted the
cameras, Mr. Reese. I'm starting the search.

I haven't seen damage like this
since Hurricane Opal trashed my yacht.

Looks like somebody
went at this with a hammer.

No sign of a gun.

But I doubt if he's just
a collector of bullets.

So who does he want to shoot?

Of course I didn't bring the right one.
I'll be right back.

Trask needs a pipe wrench, Finch.
He's coming back down.

Okay, just a minute.

Finch, he's in the courtyard
headed your way.

Watch where you're going, Trask.

Finch.

He's obsessed with her.

I'm afraid we're not the only ones
spying on our neighbors.

Harold, get out of there now.

Finch, did you get out of there? Finch?

Who the hell...? Hey, come here.
What were you doing in my place?

- I could use a hand here.
- Okay, hang on, hang on, hang on.

He's gonna kill the elevator.

Security, this is Trask.

He's in the stairwell. Turn right.

Take the east stairs
up three flights and you're home.

Move quick, he'll be on your floor
in about 40 seconds.

I feel like a rat in a maze.

How do you put up with this?

Doug, I caught a guy
breaking in. He was just in my apartment.

Keep walking, Finch. You'll be fine.

5'9", glasses, walks with a limp.

I think he might be the thief
you've been looking for.

Hey.

What was that security guard
doing in that apartment?

Finch?

I'm pretty sure Doug knows
you're not the thief.

He is, and I'm sending you the proof.

- Nice phone.
- Can I show you something?

Is he there? Have you found him yet?

So we can call the police.

Or you can forget you saw me,
and I'll forget I saw you.

I'm gonna check the next floor.

He's not on two.

So, Trask is armed,
has a dangerous fixation on Lily...

...and he just chased me up three floors.
Safe to say he's our perpetrator.

I don't know. Sure you don't want
to double-check your machine?

Yes, that joke never gets old.

Harold, is everything okay?

What the hell?

We have company.

- Sorry to pop up unannounced, Nate.
- I guess we're not doing this over drinks.

He works here. Even I need
technical support sometimes.

Nathan, you remember
Deputy Director Weeks.

The man in charge.

I hope I'm not in trouble.

The nine digits you gave us
are the social security number...

...of a man named Gordon Kurzweil.
He's one of ours.

He's a DIA
case officer. Top secret clearance...

...been acing FBI background checks
for 20 years.

We surveilled Kurzweil
for two weeks. Got nothing.

When we were thinking
you sold us a bill of goods...

...he breaks pattern, goes for a drive.

At a park in Bethesda,
a Syrian businessman drops his phone.

Kurzweil picks it up...

...and via coded SMS,
he arranges to sell 26 pounds...

...of weapons-grade uranium
to the Iranian government.

I guess the number panned out.

What I need you to explain to me is...

...how did some damn computer program
spot a traitor when federal agents couldn't?

Honestly? Not a clue.

The machine will deliver actionable
intelligence in time to thwart...

...any threat to national security,
but its operating system is a black box.

And if we want to
direct this machine at a specific target?

No need.

It already watches every target.

You're asking us
to take a lot on faith here, Nathan.

A piece of software we can't inspect,
can't control, or modify.

That only feeds us intel
when it feels like it?

When it perceives a threat.
Look, I'm sorry, folks...

...but it's the only way that we can
keep it and us protected.

If no human sees what
the machine sees, then technically...

...no one's Fourth Amendment rights
have been violated.

Why not focus on your computer
and leave Constitutional concerns to us?

Because I'm a citizen too.

And I'm a lot more comfortable having
this machine watch my every move...

...than someone like you.

So it will remain a closed system.

Fully autonomous.

- All we get is a number?
- Did you need more to pick up Kurzweil?

The software told you
to take a closer look, so you did.

It's a black box. That's the deal.
You take it or leave it.

I'm not accustomed
to having contractors dictate terms.

And if you're gonna be supplying
crippled software...

...maybe we need to revisit
the question of price.

Why don't you tell him
the price negotiated, Alicia?

Mr. Ingram felt that this project was
his duty as a citizen, not a businessman.

He's building the machine
for one U.S. Dollar.

I suppose I don't have a choice.

I know, I know.

I don't know what to do anymore,
how else to say no.

He's always right there.

Even when I can't see him,
I can feel his eyes on me.

It's a bump key.

A hardware hack.

Just stick it in, twist, give it a little jolt...

...it'll open any lock in the building.

You won't be caught
with nowhere to run again.

And this is everything you've found on
the woman that Trask is obsessed with?

Uh-huh.

Lily Thornton. Grew up in Georgia,
cooking in her dad's diner.

Cordon Bleu, class of '05.

Staying at her great aunt's apartment
since '09...

...and currently a rising star
at a top Manhattan bistro.

Romantically linked to Rick Morris,
a powerful restaurateur.

This is very nice work, Mr. Reese.

I have used a computer before.
But we can't get video from her place.

She changes her Wi-Fi password
every day.

Random alphanumerics. You gotta love
a girl with good security habits.

So, Trask has been snapping
pictures of her.

Are we sure that means
he wants to kill her?

Seventy-six percent
of all female homicide victims...

...are stalked before they're murdered.

- I'd better keep an eye on her.
- You're not tailing her to work.

I'm getting pretty good at this thing.

I'm sure the CIA will be deeply
impressed when they shoot you.

Just feeling
a little restless here, Finch.

Use the cushion.

The numbers never stop coming in, Finch.

What are we gonna do if another one
comes in while I'm sidelined?

I'm sure I'd think of something.

And I know you won't carry a gun...

...but if I'm sending you back in the field,
you're getting basic self-defense.

- I don't think...
- Listen up.

If Trask comes at you,
put your fingers straight out like this:

Strike at his eyes.

Poke him in the eyes?
That's your technique?

No, yours. If that doesn't work, you can
take your thumb, jam it in his eye...

...and twist till you hit his brain.
- Please stop.

Trask is still in the courtyard,
but I want eyes on Lily at work.

I'll be with her shortly.

If she is Trask's intended victim...

...I'd like a better view
of the inside of her apartment...

...instead of simply peering at her
through a window.

Mr. Reese,
there's already a camera here.

Basic consumer model, wireless,
streaming to a hidden network.

Receiver it's paired with
could be anywhere in the building.

I think Trask has been watching
her every move.

And I think Lily's
been spied on enough.

Cell phone location data.

Oh.

- Hey, where you going?
- To get lost.

I need to dust this for prints.
Here you go.

- I think you broke it!
- So? Read a book.

Sir, N.Y.P.D. I need your jacket now.

You're requisitioning my jacket?

Taxi.

Queens, corner of 45th and 21 st.

Hey, you guys got a real problem.

Carter's got info from one
of your phones. She's tracking you.

I'm aware she's looking for me.
I don't suppose you know why.

No. Not yet.

- How's our guy?
- Alive. Hidden.

- Did you receive the package I sent?
- I got it here.

- What, you run out of Adderall?
- Our friend's prints are on it.

I need you to throw the CIA
off his trail.

Take a road trip, detective.

Connecticut's nice this time of year.

- Is everything good?
Uh-huh.

- Make sure you try...
- Good afternoon, Mr. Finch.

How's it going with Lily?

This may be the best catered
stakeout in history.

Don't eat in the field, Finch.
Never know when you'll have to move fast.

Any progress
on the landlord's e-mail?

Still working on that one.

What about the camera I found?
If we can trace it to Trask...

...we can get him fired.
Maybe arrested.

Still trying to break into
the hidden wireless network.

No luck cracking the password yet.

But I did find out some information
about our friend Trask.

Turns out there used to be
a Mrs. Trask.

- Used to?
- She disappeared 13 years ago.

Trask never called the cops.

Told everyone she went to be
with family in Boca Raton.

And I'm guessing she's not in Boca.

- Delivery for you.
- As far as I can tell...

- ...she's not anywhere.
- Here you go.

Maybe Lily's not his first.

Sign here.

And I think it's safe to say she knows
she has a stalker.

Hey, Aaron, will you just throw these
away for me? Get rid of them.

Poor girl seems miserable.

She just threw a gift in the trash.

Bouquet of roses.

Taxi!

So this is where your trail ends, Burdett.

Where'd you go from here?

You're wasting your time, detective.

I falsified the location data this morning.

I'm gonna go out on a limb
and guess your name isn't Burdett.

Do you think finding me
will lead you to my partner?

- Are you still trying to make that arrest?
- No. His CIA pals got that...

...out of my system.
I wanted to catch him, not kill him.

- What do you want now?
- Still working that out.

If I'm gonna keep lying
to government agents...

...to protect you two,
I'm gonna need a damn good reason.

I want answers.
I need to know what you do.

Turn around, detective.

Ma'am, can I get you anything else here?

How's your friend?

Heh.

You're gonna have
to tell me something.

Like who the hell are you,
and what exactly is going on here?

When I was 9 years old,
my brothers decided I needed...

...to learn to swim, so they tossed me
into the deep end.

Took a few minutes, but I figured it out.

Do you see that man, detective?

His name is Derek Watson, 39 years old.

Eighteen months ago, he lost his job.

He tried to keep up with the mortgage
as best he could...

...but the money ran out, eventually.

Lost his house.
And his wife left soon after.

Derek Watson is about to be involved
in a violent crime.

I don't know what, exactly.
But believe me...

...something is going to happen.

You can't know that.

Bring your service weapon, detective?

Sorry to toss you into the deep end.

But as you know,
my friend is indisposed.

N.Y.P.D. Homicide.

It's Carter. I need a background
on a Derek Watson, 39 years old.

I show a Derek H. Watson
in Mount Vernon.

House was foreclosed two months ago.
No current address.

That's him. What do you got?

Not much. No priors. No arrests.

A couple of unpaid parking tickets.
But that's about it.

What's the name of the bank
that took his house?

Truprime Mortgage.

Who filed the paperwork for the bank?

John Dalton. Is this for an open homicide?

I'll have to get back to you on that.

Finest surveillance training on the planet...

...and a New York cop
gave you the slip.

Well, I know she's not in here, guys.

Reese hasn't turned up dead,
so odds are he's found a safe house.

Expand the search.

All apartments and hotels rented
in the last two days.

- But if he's anywhere...
- Just make it happen.

You have eyes on Trask, Mr. Reese?

Where have you been?

Now you know how I feel.

Lily's headed home.
Is it safe for her there?

I'm watching Trask right now.

But I'm not sure she's his target.

- I think Trask might be after Rick.
- Why?

He spent the afternoon
sniffing around Rick's apartment.

If I didn't know better,
I'd say now he's digging a grave.

Trask gets rid of the boyfriend
and has Lily all to himself.

- Everything all right?
- Yeah, I'm just sick of being cooped up.

Staring at screens all day.

I'd rather be doing that
than trudging around half of Manhattan.

I have half a mind to spot Lily cab fare.

Finch, how fast can you get here?

About 15 minutes, why?

Because we just ran out of time.

I think Trask is making his move tonight.

Checking your mail?
- Looks like it.

I think, uh, I figured out
why your place is flooding.

It just, uh, needs a special faucet.

Why don't we go check it out?

If you like it,
I can install it tomorrow. No more floods.

- Why don't we go to the basement?
- I'm busy, all right?

I don't need to see. Just have it fixed.

You need to stay away from Lily.

What?

You lost your mind?

I called the car. I can be there in five.

That'll be four minutes too late.

She doesn't love you, man. All right?

You need to leave her alone.

You got some kind of pathetic,
old man crush, Trask?

Gonna punch me out?
Take Lily to the dance?

You're not her boyfriend
and you're not her hero.

You're just the damn janitor...

...so if my toilet clogs, I'll let you know.
Otherwise, step aside.

- Is the building on fire?
- I'm sure everything's fine, Mrs. F...

...but I'm gonna go check it out.

I come home and things have moved,
like he's been in my apartment.

I'm scared of what he's going to do.

This isn't over. Trask will try again.
And he's still obsessed with Lily.

Perhaps we should consider
more aggressive tactics.

He's terrorizing her.

I want Trask
out of the building tonight.

Mr. Hayes?

My name isn't Hayes.

Then I'm gonna ask you to leave.

Actually...

...you're the one who'll be leaving.

- Hey. I don't know what you think...
- I know about the roses. And the texts.

- And the hidden cameras...
- No. I would never...

I know about the gun and I know you
were ready to kill her boyfriend.

He's not her boyfriend.

You don't understand.

Now...

...you're gonna pack your bag
and leave this place.

And no matter how much
you think you love her...

...you're never coming back.
- Please.

I love this job.

And I do care for Lily.
But not like that. Not like that.

Finch, listen up.
Trask didn't take those photos of Lily.

- He stole them from the penthouse.
- I know.

He didn't plant the cameras either.

Trask isn't the stalker.

Didn't you like the flowers, babe?

How did you get in here?

I thought it could be you and me.

- Please go. I want you to go.
- Come on, baby.

You know you don't want me to leave.

Mr. Reese? We're gonna need a little help.

Get out of my apartment now.

You don't mean that.

Rick. Please.

This has to stop.

- The calls. The flowers...
- Those were a thank-you...

...for our date.

That wasn't a date.
We were going to the same party.

Heh, you're such a tease.

You made me share a cab with you
and then followed me.

I'm just trying to help you.
I could do so much for you in this town.

Make you executive chef?

I don't want to work for you.
I want you to leave.

The super told me to stay away
from you.

Did you tell him about us?

Did you lie
and say you don't love me?

- No.
- Why would you wanna hurt me?

- Would you like it if I hurt you?
- No!

All I've ever done is
look out for you, Lily.

It's time you showed a little gratitude.

Let her go, Mr. Morris.

- I believe I told you to leave her alone.
- Unh.

We got something. Break-in at
a veterinary clinic in Connecticut.

Reese's prints were on a prescription
bottle found at the scene.

Couldn't be telling me this
while we drive?

Anonymous tip, my ass.
This has got to be some kind of joke.

All right. Let's go.

BP 90 over 50. Thready pulse,
multiple fractures, bleeding internally.

I told him that I wasn't interested. And...

And it was like something in him snapped.

He became obsessive and,
um, very unstable.

He's been stalking me for months,
but I was too afraid to tell anyone.

- If Ernie hadn't shown up when he did...
- That wasn't nothing.

Should've seen some of the guys
they sent after me in Miami.

You do not want to mess
around with the Cuban Mafia.

- Easy.
- Sorry, sir.

Here.

- What's this?
- Uh, Trask's gun.

Oh, good.

You know, his name isn't Ernest Trask.
It's Ernesto Machado.

He used to own six night clubs
in Miami.

A yacht.

House in Coral Gables. And...

A pet tiger.

- It was all true.
- Even the part about it being...

...bad for his health.

He testified against the Cuban Mafia
in 1996. Still a price on his head.

- He's in witness protection.
- That's why you couldn't find Mrs. Trask.

She came with him from Miami,
but without the houses and the clubs...

...she didn't last long. She left him.
Moved in with relatives in Boca Raton.

How'd you find all that out?

I'm good with computers.

Be honest, Finch.
There is no machine, is there?

It's just you.

I'll be ready when the next number comes.

Funny you should mention that...

Gun!

Unh.
- Drop it. Drop it.

- Ah.
- It's all right.

N.Y.P.D.
Everything's under control.

- Get down.
- Unh.

That, Detective Carter, is what we do.

Well done, my friend.

Now, tell me.

What on earth was it
that made the machine...

...pick out Kurzweil's number?

You want me to pop the hood?

Yeah, heh.

November 2002.

This isn't the first item
chronologically, but it's the one...

...that triggered a harder look.

- A gas station receipt?
- Eighteen of them.

From a Shell station
just outside Towson, Maryland.

Kurzweil stopped there
every third Thursday...

...of every even month,
even if he'd filled up the day before.

On three of his 18 visits,
this SUV was present two hours before.

- A dead-drop.
- The SUV was registered...

...to the wife of a Turkish
oil executive...

...that paid for plane tickets
used by an Iranian suspect...

...in the bombing
of a Jewish community center...

...in Buenos Aires in 1994.

The thinnest thread connects Kurzweil
and his contact...

...and the machine could see it.
It knew. And it was right.

It does this all the time, to all of us?

That's terrifying.

It's a good thing you're the only other
person that will see this machine work.

When it's complete,
I'll encrypt the OS so completely...

...that no computer on Earth
will ever crack it.

Does it bother you?

I mean,
what you've achieved is historic.

But no one will ever know.

It's the way it has to be. To be sure.

- Sure of what?
- That they'll use it the way I intended.

You think the government
would abuse this machine?

Denton Weeks has spent
the last six months trying to tunnel...

...into the machine
by way of the NSA feed.

He's failed. But he'll keep trying.
And he won't be alone.

I don't want to think about what a man
like Weeks would do with that power.

That's why we keep anyone
from getting their hands on it.

You're sure it was Weeks?

The machine told me.

It has an instinct for self-preservation.

You talk about that thing
like it's alive.

Shh, it can hear you.