All language subtitles for Person of interest s03e21

- Hello.
- Hello.

Grace, there's something
you should know about me.
Ripped By mstoll

There's nothing you can say
that will make me run away.

Harold! Please, my fiance.

- Do you know where he might...
- I'm sorry.

This is everybody
we pulled out of the water.

If we let him walk out that door,
Decima wins, Samaritan will go live.

If we're now in a place
where the machine

is asking us to commit murder,
that's a place I can't go.

I'm afraid this is where I get off.

I said open the register now!
I want the cash!

- Who the hell are you?
- Ordinarily, I'd be the chick

kicking your amateur-hour ass.

Really, Raul? You covered your face,
but no gloves?

Prints on the door.
The cops will have you in an hour.

Not smart with Charisse
and a two-year-old at home.

But today is your lucky day.

Just drop the gun,

take the diapers
and gel the hell outta here.

Your kid's better off with a father.

You saved our lives.

From him? No.

No. He wasn't a real threat.

But did you notice
that your security cameras

have been off all afternoon?

I wonder why Ricky here
begged you to work a shift today.

Two words: inside job.

For the ice cream.

You didn't need backup after all.

But for the record, I'd have just
kneecapped that guy.

Especially if I was
nursing a leg wound.

Okay, first, my leg is fine.

And second, what's with
the tips on field work?

- Who died and made you Finch?
- It's the role I gotta play

until the real one comes back.

And when is that?
It's been over a week.

No call, no... no text.
Not even a smoke signal.

Finch will reach out to us when he's
good and ready. Until then...

- Nice to see you, too, John.
- Where the hell did you come from?

El Paso, most recently. The thing
with the narco-trafficker.

Very relevant, but not the point.

Take a peek around that comer,
you two.

- Ambush.
- Who are the party crashers?

Decima trigger teams,

waiting for you with no less
than six submachine guns

and one honest-to-goodness
Russian RPG-7.

We need to get invisible. Fast.

Phones and earpieces. Now.

Streets aren't safe.
Decima's machine is online.

Can see us anywhere and everywhere in
the five boroughs of New York City.

Samaritan? You confirmed it?
- Our names are on the list,

and Greer is keeping score.

All systems, cameras, phones,
the GPS in your car, can track us.

So what, Samaritan can think
for itself now? It can learn?

I don't think so. Right now,
all it can do is watch us and follow.

Just remember: what our
machine sees, Samaritan sees.

Two gods playing
with the same deck of cards. Stop.

We need to find another way.

Mr. Greer, I'd assumed
the beta test of your system

would be a little more...
professional.

The espresso machine is on its way.

And I can assure you, Senator,

Samaritan is running
as smooth as a Swiss watch.

How long will it take?

You've had all the city's
domain awareness feeds

for four hours already.

And look at what those four hours
have already produced.

All probable terrorists
in the city of New York

pinpointed, categorized, and tracked
with an up-to-the-second GPS.

I can assure you, Senator, that we
will have a hard target for you soon.

- And you'll inform me when you do?
- You will be the first to know.

- Fine.
- Hm.

You know we've gotten
dozens of results already.

Any one of these guys
is practically gift-wrapped.

And we'll deliver.

But not until after
we've located Harold Finch.

- Where are we on that?
- Samaritan couldn't find a lead, sir.

He may have skipped town.

Should we consider turning on its
higher, more cognitive functions?

This thing has a mind.
Why don't we use it?

For the simple reason
we don't have the hardware.

If it can't find this Finch,
how about the next best thing?

If we have it combine everything
it knows about Harold Finch

and ask it to find
his closest living connection,

let's see what it comes up with.

Hug the wall.
There's a camera up ahead.

We're covered on 23rd Street by the
Flushing Line elevated tracks.

We make it that far,
and maybe we don't get shot

by the six Decima agents
waiting a block away.

Samaritan 101. Let's go.

Missed one.

Hold here until the light changes.

The camera angle switches
with oncoming traffic.

Come on!

John.

When that light switches,
we're screwed!

We can't worry about
irrelevant numbers now.

What is it thinking?

Telling us to lay low,
then handing us a new number?

- There's no time!
- This is a life.

And Finch would tell us to save it.

So you tell your complicated boss,

if it wants me to step out of danger,
then I need more than just numbers.

I want a name.

Fine. She's giving it to me.

I'll tell you on...

- Oh, no.
- What?

Who is it?

Looks like Samaritans
found a connection.

There.

- Who is she?
- Not sure.

Could be family,
a friend, a coworker.

Bring her to me.

"Let not your hearts be troubled.

In my father's house are many rooms.

And if I go to prepare
a place for you, I will come again,

and where I am, you may be also."
Amen.

Ordinarily, I'd say a few words
about the deceased, but...

Oh, no, that's all right, Father.
It was lovely. Thank you.

The bombing was such a tragedy.
So many lives taken at once.

I didn't know your fiance,
but I pray his soul finds peace.

Thank you.

I would have thought
at least one...

- I beg your pardon?
- Not a crowd.

He didn't really have any family,

but a friend or... a coworker.

Just... one other person

who knew how truly special Harold was

and wanted to say goodbye.

- Ms. Hendricks, you ordered a car?
- Yes! To JFK?

- Let me get that.
- Thank you.

International, right?
Where you headed?

I'm going to a job interview
in Italy.

I'm not even sure if I want it,
but I have to show them my work.

If you could be really
careful with this.

Those are paintings.

- Wow, you're an artist, huh?
- Yeah.

My daughter loves to paint.
Do you have a website?

I'd love to show her your stuff.

That's sweet.
Yeah, I think I have a card.

Oh, she'll be so excited.
Nice of you to do that.

Little late for the flu shot.

Ms. Hendricks,
I'm Detective Stills.

We met before.
Do you remember?

Where did you come from?

My partner and I need
to get you to a safe place.

This man works for a very
dangerous criminal organization,

and others are on their way.

So we need to hurry.
Emphasis on the "hurry."

Image captures from down the street
from Ms. Hendricks' apartment.

Our operative was intercepted
before he could acquire her.

I believe you're familiar
with the two who came to her rescue.

We're currently tracking them
across Manhattan.

Enough of these games.

Zachary!
- Sir.

Deploy all operatives
into the field.

Bring me Grace Hendricks,
and eliminate the rest.

Copy that.

No, no, no. What are you doing?
You can't be in here.

Yes, we can, Lionel.
We're police.

Detective Stills, remember?
- You're killing me with that.

- It's not safe for you in here.
- It's a good point.

- Any way to turn those things off?
- The cameras?

Department's got 'em up
all over the place now.

Lionel, meet Grace. She's got some
very bad people trying to hurt her.

I don't know what's going on,
but these detectives saved my life.

- Yeah, they're good at that.
- Can we find her a place to rest?

Yeah, all right, come on.
Come here.

All units, take positions.

Sir, we have
the precinct surrounded.

We're ready to move in.

Hold your position.

The situation may require
a certain amount of... finesse.

- It's lousy, but it's warm.
- Thank you.

How you holding up?

Why would someone want to hurt me?

I can't tell you what's
going on out there.

But in here, you're safe.

The other detectives,
Stills and his partner,

are they always like that?

I know they come off
a little stiff.

But they've saved my life
dozens of times.

Trust me, they're the good guys.

- I'm sorry. Can I help you?
- Special Agent Maybank.

There's a woman by the name
of Hendricks here.

I need to take her into custody.

And you just happen
to know she's here.

I have a warrant.
It's notarized.

Mm-hm. That's a cute trick,
but you ain't getting anywhere.

Is there a problem, Detective?

- Lieutenant Fusco.
- Special Agent Maybank.

Oh, of course. We were just about
to question your suspect.

I had a feeling she was
tied to something bigger.

Now, if you'd like, I can bring her
to you in the interrogation room.

- Please.
- Sure. Right this way.

- I'll just be a second.
- Thank you.

- Hey, good night, Sarge.
- Night.

Fusco.
Got a late-night collar here.

Picked her up
with two unregistered weapons.

Hate to crash the party,

but a mutual friend
thought I could help in here.

- So you got yourself arrested?
- Wouldn't be the first time.

Help me out here?

In evidence locker 779B,
there's a coil of copper wire.

In 443A, there's a pair
of needle-nosed pliers.

I need them, a roll of duct tape,
and an extension cord.

Oh, is that all, Cocoa Puffs?

Tell our men to position themselves
around the station

where there's
no surveillance coverage.

Is there a problem, sir?

We're not the only ones
with eyes and ears everywhere.

Hey, hey, hey.
Where you going?

How is Detective Stills
one of the good guys

when he's not even
Detective Stills?

Hendricks, Grace R.

BFA, Rhode Island
School of Design, MFA, Yale.

You're a smart lady.

So listen to what happens
when you walk out that door.

If you're not shot by one of three
former force recon scout snipers,

you'll be grabbed
by some lummox named Zachary

in an SUV with bogus Ohio plates,

a fate far worse than the lies told
to protect you in this room.

Believe it or not,
she's one of the good guys too.

What is going on? I barely believe
this is a police station.

You're in a situation
you can't control

that's larger than you can imagine.

Sit tight,
and we'll keep you alive.

Lionel, what did you find for me?

- What's that thing?
- An induction coil.

This is the precinct's telecom box.

The wires from all the cameras
run through this wall.

Each of those wires is protected
by a copper sheath

which I'm overloading
with 110 volts of electricity.

Are you trying
to bum the place down?

Just cooking it a little.

Very clever.

You're gonna want
to dispose of that.

Especially when your IT guys
show up in the morning.

Terrific. Anything else, Princess?

Your phone and an unmarked car.

Here. You better
not be calling China.

Hm...

Just down the street, actually.

All units, there's
been an explosion on 1214 Grand Street.

It's an abandoned
three-story building.

The explosion occurred
on the top floor.

All units in area
respond immediately.

What do you think?
Did we lose 'em?

It was always 50/50.

Zachary, get Ms. Hendricks to safety,
and then dispose of the others.

I've got her, sir.

Never thought I'd love
the sight of New Jersey.

- You sure we're safe here?
- From everything but the coffee.

And, yes, we're off the radar

as long as we're outside
the five boroughs.

Samaritan can't see this far... yet.

We have to go back
and find Grace.

If Decima's throwing
everything they have at us,

then she's their way
to get to Finch.

Still the faithful watchdog, huh?
Even after Harold left you.

- Are you gonna help us or not?
- I thought you'd never ask.

See everything in red?

These are dead zones
in the city.

Spots where our machine
can't find a hint

of audio or visual surveillance.

When Decima took Grace, they
disappeared to this spot here.

Red Hook Marine Terminal.

An entire port blacked out
to surveillance.

Someone doesn't want the world to see
what's going in or coming out.

Here are your pancakes.

I'm guessing it's our
best shot at finding Grace.

Then let's go take a look.

Stop the clock, sports fans.

How do either of you plan on
getting us back into the city?

There's our ride.

Where am I?

Where am I, damn it?

I asked you a question.

Tell me where I am. Now.

Where you are is of
very little interest, my dear.

Who you are, now, that's
a question worth pursuing.

What right do you have
to abduct me, to keep me here?

Your questions only delay my own.
Please.

Now, tell me,

Grace Hendricks,

who exactly are you?

You can lose the hat. Whole area's
a dead zone, meaning camera-free.

And since we ditched our phones,
I took the liberty

of grabbing a few of these
on our way out of the eighth.

Okay, so how many bad guys
are we looking at here?

- What kind of firepower?
- I have no idea.

As long as we're here,
we're flying blind.

Finally... a chance for some
good, old-fashioned recon.

There's nothing here
but employee records.

She's gotta be on one of
those four container ships at dock.

You're sure you saw
four ships out there?

Yeah. Why?

Terminal manifest
only lists three.

What do you say we take a look
behind door number four?

You two head below deck,
try to find Grace.

I'll keep watch up here.

- No sign of Grace.
- Or anyone else.

Takes a big crew
to run a ship this size.

So where is everybody?

Discoloration of the lips,
fingernails.

Signs of respiratory arrest.
I'm guessing botulinum toxin.

For a job well done.

- Decima.
- But why would they poison the crew?

Unless they have something to hide.

You guys might
wanna come up here.

There's something
you should see.

Computer sewers. I'd say there's
about 60 per container.

And, yes, they're state-of-the-art.

With chipsets
and acceleration technology

unlike anything I've ever seen.

Three guesses what Decima's
gonna use them for.

- But you won't need three.
- Samaritan?

- But it's already online.
- You think it's scary now?

Samaritan's a brand-new system,
a child learning to crawl.

These sewers
are for when it can run.

Can't question a dead guy.

But maybe this can help.

You couldn't have aimed
two inches higher?

Everybody's a critic today.

Let's just go find you a computer.

Ready when you are.

It was Decima, all right.
Here to take inventory of the cargo.

And receiving orders
via self-deleting texts.

They never make it easy,
do they?

Can't read the texts, but the machine
found where they came from.

A building in Brooklyn.

If Decima's camped out there,
then Grace probably is too. Let's go.

- Are you coming?
- She's telling me to stay put.

You guys can handle it from here.

I've got work to do.

- How do you take it?
- I don't.

Well, if you get parched...

Now, let's go over it

one more time.

The part where I tell you
I'm an illustrator

who has no idea
what she's doing here

or the part where
you don't believe me?

Oh, I believe
you're an illustrator.

And I believe that you were born
on the 12th of April, 1969,

in Columbia, South Carolina,
to Paul and Marilyn Hendricks

of the pale blue house
on Forrester Lane.

Your bedroom was the upper right one

overlooking the street.

Your parents still live there,
don't they?

Charming couple.

- Who are you?
- You studied history of an.

Just think of me as...

Michelangelo
in the Sistine Chapel

lying on his back,

trying to paint a portrait
of a rather elusive subject.

Michelangelo painted it standing up.
- Oh?

One of those little things
you learn in art history.

And I can't help you
make a picture of God.

Perhaps you can.

Ever been married?

I'm sure that file of yours
can tell you the answer's no.

Married to your career then?

I'm simply trying to get
a sense of your life

and the people in it.

Mom, Dad, no one else?

Nobody. Friends.
Mostly artists.

Seems a shame,

woman of your beauty,
intelligence,

obvious talent.

I'd think you'd be quite a catch.

I was engaged once,
four years ago.

But he's dead now.

I'm truly sorry.

How did it happen?

The ferry bombing.

His name was Harold.

How tragic.

Please, tell me about Harold.

Must be awful losing a loved one
to an act of terrorism.

I hope his burial provided you
with a modicum of closure.

It was a memorial, not a burial.

His remains were lost at sea.

And my closure's
none of your business.

Can you name any one thing
about Harold

that you know to be
absolutely true?

I can name dozens.
He was kind, intelligent...

Yes, yes, yes.

Harold Martin,
freelance software engineer.

Orphan with a love of art
and a heart of gold.

So you said.
So he told you.

Are you implying
that Harold lied to me?

I'm implying that your Harold
lived a remarkably anonymous life.

Perhaps more than one.
- What? Are you out of your mind?

I'm simply trying to discern whether
you're lying to me about this man

or just to yourself.

I don't know who you are
or how this ends,

but we're done here.
No more questions.

No more questions about me
and my life or Harold.

No need to lose your temper.

Here's all you need to know
about me, old man.

My dad was an alcoholic.

Nearly tore the family to pieces.

The thing about
growing up that way,

you get good at spotting lies.

So good that you start
expecting them from everyone.

So how do I know
what Harold told me was true?

Because when he came along,

against every instinct,

I gave him my trust.

Somehow I knew
he would never break it.

And if you doubt that,
even for a second,

you're the one
who's lying to himself.

You truly loved him, didn't you?

I would have done
anything to save him.

And Harold would have done
anything for me.

Yes.

I have no doubt.

Answer me one question. Why are you
so interested in Harold?

He's dead.

Your tea's gone cold.

Feel free to freshen it up.

Zachary, I finished
our interview with our subject.

Have you found her protectors?

Yes, sir.
Samaritan has located their car.

We're moving in now.

Get out of the car!

Hands up!

Who are you?
How did you get this vehicle?

Easy, man!
I just asked for a dollar.

They gave me the keys.

Sir, we lost them.

They engineered a distraction.

Now, why would they
create a distraction

that dragged us all the way
to one side of the city,

unless they were
on their way to the other?

Our location has been compromised.

Disassemble everything. Now!

Next time we need to hide
from an all-seeing super computer,

we're getting separate trunks.

My favorite thing
about New York cabbies,

they have terrible memories.

See?

- You forgot us already?
- Yeah, yeah.

Decima's holed up
in there somewhere,

and if we're lucky, so is Grace.

I'm sick of hiding.
Let's make some noise.

Somebody call tech support?

Got this one, Shaw.
You find Grace?

Found an interrogation room
set up with tea for two.

Still warm.
We just missed her.

Our friend here is gonna tell us
everything he knows

about Grace and Samaritan.

Oh, I sincerely doubt that.

Besides, all you need
to know about Ms. Hendricks

is that she's with me,

and for the moment, quite safe.

Let her go.

Or Geek Squad here
catches a bullet.

Amusing performance.

I'm afraid
Virgil's already dead.

Aren't you, Virgil?

At dawn, Grace Hendricks
will be at the Jefferson Bridge.

I'll be very happy
to return her to you,

in exchange for Harold Finch.

What makes you think
we'd agree to that?

Your agreement is irrelevant.

Get the message to Mr. Finch.

I expect he'll cooperate.

For Ms. Hendricks' sake,
don't be late.

We can't trade Harold.
We can't even find him.

Then we've only got a few hours
to come up with a way to save Grace.

- Yep.
- Hi, you two.

The machine says
the security camera

overlooking the entrance
to Grace's building just went out.

Thought you should know.

Finch.

- How did you take out the camera?
- I still have a few tricks left.

I'd hoped maybe it wasn't too late,
that I could warn her.

They want me, don't they?

We're not giving
you to Decima, Harold.

We just got you back.

The three of us will come up
with some kind of way.

No, any change of plans
would put Grace at risk,

and I can't allow that.

I'll trade myself for her.

The two of you will stay with me
and make sure that Decima

holds up their end of the deal.
Understood?

Whatever you want, Finch.
We'll be there.

Thank you.

There's one more thing.

I'd like you to avoid violence,
if at all possible.

But, if they harm Grace
in any way,

kill them all.

This is the best plan
you three could come up with?

We had no choice, Lionel.

Well, I don't like it.
We're too exposed.

And there are cameras everywhere,
which is why we do nothing.

No one fires a shot
unless we have to.

Don't do this, Harold.
We'll think of something.

We've faced worse.

Worse? Have we?
I don't think so.

From the day the machine went online,

part of me knew that I would never

be able to sever myself from it,

and that anyone I ever cared about
was in danger.

It was foolish
to imagine otherwise.

I tried to guard myself,
stay hidden,

from the government,
the authorities, people looking.

Here we still are.

This moment was inevitable.

This moment
was always looking for me.

I have to accept it.

It's for Grace when she's safe.

There was no other way.

Keep yourself alive, Harold.

I'll be coming for you.

Remember what I said.

She's all that matters.

Walk a straight line, 100 paces.

Don't take off the blindfold
until you're all the way there.

Thank you.

Get her outta here now.

Day like today, it's gotta
feel good to come home.

Hey. You gonna be okay?

Honestly, I don't know.
Is it gonna be safe here?

No.

They have what they want for now,

but that won't stop them
from coming after you again.

Which is why
you should open this.

That job you were
looking at in Italy?

You've been selected
for the position.

What? I didn't even
go on the interview.

- I was supposed to leave...
- Your flight leaves tonight.

The job begins next week.

They'll set you up
with an apartment, stipend,

all under the name on that passport.

Lionel here will get you
to the airport safely.

It's a good time to start over.

Please don't look back.

Did you know him? Harold?

Is he what this was all about?

All I know for sure is...

you loved him.

And he loved you back.

- Step away from the door!
- Get on the ground! Now!

Results of the
Samaritan beta test, Senator.

One terrorist, as requested.

His real name,
and what he was planning,

should you care
to know the specifics.

Rest assured, I'll get very well
acquainted with the specifics.

Assuming everything pans out,
I'll be in touch.

- Samaritan's losing the feeds then?
- For the moment.

But we've gained
the senator's confidence.

And something far more valuable.

Drive.

So what's all the way out in
Mount Vernon that's so important?

At the time, it was
outside New York City limits

- and Samaritan's prying eyes.
- At the time?

Decima's lost the feeds.

So for now,
the only one watching is her.

Chin up, kids.
You're not out of the game yet.

Trust me.

We lost Finch,
which means we've lost everything.

Not everything.

We now have seven
of Samaritan's sewers.

Like I said, trust me.

You blindfolded her.
I appreciate that.

Least I could do.

Had a feeling
you'd prefer it that way.

And I didn't want to
get off on the wrong foot.

After all,

you've been
a very hard man to find.
Ripped By mstoll