All language subtitles for Bones S01E01 Pilot

This is the final boarding call
for Flight 416...

I'm late.

Final boarding call for Flight 416
with service to Dallas/Fort Worth.

This board is broken.

The "Arrivals" board is not working.

Did anybody meet the flight from Guatemala?
Aviataka Airlines? What gate?

Great.

I'm late.

Excuse me. You have a computer
glitch at the "Arrivals" board.

Hello? Sir, excuse me. Yoo-hoo.

Great.

Yeah. Hi.

The flight from Guatemala.

Tell me you tried "Excuse me" first.

Sweetie! Yes, I did.

Welcome home.

Are you exhausted?
Was Guatemala awful? Was it backward?

I was never reduced to
flashing my boobs for information.

Flash 'em for fun reasons?

I was literally neck-deep
in a mass grave. Not romantic.

Diving in a pit of cadavers
is no way to handle a messy break-up.

- Nothing Pete and I did was messy.
- Then you were not doing the right thing.

Sir, why are you following us?

Attack! Security! Hello?
Who runs this airport?

Kick his ass!

- Step back, now!
- He attacked me!

I'm Homeland Security!

- A little misunderstanding here.
- Put away your guns.

Is she in charge now? No. I'll tell you
when you can lower your weapons.

- Hand over the bag.
- Is that what this is about?

Boo.

I am Dr Temperance Brennan.

I've been in Guatemala identifying
victims of genocide, including him.

Most people in this situation,
what they do is, they sweat it.

Guatemala, genocide...
How are you scary after that?

- You know who don't sweat it?
- Sociopaths.

- I'm an anthropologist at the Jeffersonian.
- Who works for the FBI.

Which I'd believe if you had an ID that did
more than allow you access to the cafeteria.

You were illegally
transporting human remains,

and you assaulted
a Homeland Security agent.

Sorry if I embarrassed you
in front of your friends.

Next time, ID yourself before attacking me.
What are you doing here?

FBI, Special Agent Seeley Booth,

Major Crime Investigation, DC.
Bones identifies bodies for us.

Don't call me "Bones".
And I do more than identify.

She also writes books.

Fine. She's all yours.

- Grab your skull and let's vamoose.
- That's it? Why did you stop me?

What does it matter?
You're free to go. Grab your bags.

You set me up. You got a "hold
for questioning request" from the FBI.

I love this book.

Come on.

That's the best you can do? Getting Security
to snatch me so you can stage a fake rescue?

At least I picked you up at the airport.
Come on. Your assistant stonewalled me.

After the last case, I told Zack
never to put you through. Let me out.

A corpse was found
at Arlington National Cemetery...

Arlington National Cemetery
is full of corpses. It's a cemetery.

But this one wasn't in a casket.

If you drive one more block,
I'm screaming "kidnap".

- I'm trying to mend bridges here.
- Pull over.

- I'm going home.
- Could we just skip this part?

- I find you very condescending.
- Me?

I'm not the one who mentions
she's got a doctorate every...

- I am the one with the doctorate.
- I'm the one with the gun.

- You're not the only forensic anthropologist.
- I am. The next nearest is in Montreal.

Parlez-vous Fran�ais?

What's it gonna take?

- Full participation.
- Fine.

- Not just lab work. Everything.
- We're Scully and Mulder.

- I don't know what that means.
- It's an olive branch. Just get back in the car.

- What's the context of the find?
- Routine landscaping.

One of the workmen
thought he saw something.

- Hi, Zack.
- This eco-warrior look works for you.

- Thanks.
- Very action-oriented.

- You remember my assistant, Zack Addy?
- Yeah.

How was Guatemala?
Learn a thing or two about machete strikes?

- I need samples and temperature readings.
- Right away.

- He's got no discretion. Typical squint.
- I don't know what that means.

Cops get stuck, we bring in people like you.
Squints. You know, who squint at things.

You mean people with very high IQs
and basic reasoning skills?

Yeah.

What exactly am I
supposed to be squinting at?

It's like pornography.
You'll know it when you see it.

Yeah, OK.

This is a crime scene.

The remains are wrapped
in poly construction sheeting.

PVC-coated chicken wire.

Weighted. That's why the body
didn't surface during decomposition.

- The skull is in fragments.
- What can you tell me?

Not much. She was a young woman,
probably between 18 and 22.

Approximately five-foot three,
race unknown, delicate features.

- That's all?
- Tennis player.

How do you get that out of that yuck?

Epiphysis fusion gives age,
pelvic bone gives sex.

Bursitis. Somebody this young,
it must be an athletic injury.

- When did she die?
- Uh...

- What does that mean?
- Wait for the bug-and-slime guy.

No clothing.

In my line of work,
no clothes usually means a sex crime.

It could also mean
the victim favoured natural fibres.

Your suit will outlast your bones by decades.

Collect silt, three metres radius
to a depth of ten centimetres.

Your FBI forensics team can take the plastic
and the chicken wire. We'll take the rest.

Dr Goodman, I wish you wouldn't
just give me to the FBI.

The Jeffersonian must seize every
opportunity to prove our worth to Congress.

I loan you out as I see fit,
especially to federal agencies.

"Loan out" implies property.
The FBI will never respect it.

You are one of the Jeffersonian's
most valuable assets.

- An asset is property.
- What's the rule, Mr Addy?

You only converse with PhDs. I'm halfway
through two. Two halves make a whole, so...

Go polish a bone, Mr Addy.

Dr Goodman, FBI agents
will never respect any of us

as long as you simply dole out
scientists like office temps.

Dr Brennan... are you playing me?

You know I'm no good at that.

Thus far. But you have
a disturbingly steep learning curve.

The pond is not only warm
and teeming with microbes,

but it houses black carp
and koi which fed on the body.

Can I, as the only normal
person in this room, say "Ew"?

- I got Trichoptera, Chironomidae...
- As we cut to the chase?

- In the pond two summers.
- Spring before last.

- You really think I'm lusty?
- The book.

- No. You're not in the book.
- Sure he is. We all are.

None of you are in the book...

- I found some bone fragments.
- We're out of the book, back in real life.

- Rana temporaria.
- Frog bones?

Also some tiny gold links
as from a fine chain.

I'm not a virgin.
Nowhere near, in fact.

Who you captured perfectly is Booth.

Buttoned down,
but buckets of sexual confidence,

which... I, for one,
would love to tap.

It's not right to discuss
that in front of a soaker.

I can't bounce back and forth between my
book and real life. Let's just forget the book.

I haven't analysed what's in her hand.
Looks like cellulose.

- Paper?
- Possibly.

I found grit in the skull fragments.
ID those. Remove the remaining tissue.

I'll debride the skull fragments,
reassemble it so Angela can put a face on it.

Good. I prefer holographs.
They don't stink.

I don't like those terms for human remains -
"soaker", "crispy critter"...

I know, Dr Brennan.

# All my rooms are filled with musty dust

# Time has taken all that I possess

# I never know if to laugh or to scream

# To hate or to believe

# To believe

# Falling through your sphere

# All I know is you and here

# Your tongue is fire when you speak

# But you make me sing

# Your love makes me sing

# Falling through your sphere

# All I know is you and here

# Your tongue is fire when you speak

# But you make me sing

# Your love makes me sing

You guaranteed a squint a role in a murder
investigation? The one that wrote the book?

- Yes.
- I thought she wouldn't work with you.

The last case, she provided descriptions
of the murder weapon and murderer.

- I didn't give her much credence.
- Why not?

- She did it by looking at the autopsy x-rays.
- I wouldn't give it much credence either.

She was right on both.
Plus the pond victim.

Brennan gives me the victim's age,
sex and favourite sport.

- Which is?
- Tennis.

She's good.

If the only way to get her back on my side
is to bring her out in the field, I'm willing.

Fine. She's on you.
Out in the field, she's your responsibility.

Yes, sir.

Agh!

Peter?

It's not rational to choose
the first day I'm back to reclaim your TV.

- I thought a lot about why we broke up.
- We fought and don't like each other.

We fought because you are
emotionally distant and cold.

But sexually speaking...

You didn't come for your TV.
You came for a booty call. You're leaving.

Your issues are due
to being orphaned so young.

I hate psychology.
You're just horny.

- Do you want to spend your life alone?
- I sure as hell wish I was alone right now.

So, what?
We split the cost of the TV?

Goodbye.

What?

- This is interesting, Angela.
- Good morning.

Does Booth know how this works?

This computer program
which I designed, patent pending,

accepts an array of digital input, processes it,
then projects it as a 3-D holographic image.

- You get that?
- The patent-pending part.

Brennan reassembled the skull
and applied markers.

Her skull was damaged.
Racial indicators - cheekbone dimensions,

occipital measurement -
suggest African-American.

And we have our victim.

Whoa.

I have to admit that's pretty cool.

Ange, rerun the program
substituting Caucasian values.

- Does she look familiar to anyone?
- No.

- Split the difference. Mixed race.
- Lenny Kravitz or Vanessa Williams?

I don't know what that means.

Angela, reduce tissue depth
over the cheekbones to the jaw line.

- Does anyone recognise her?
- Not me.

- Wait. Is that who I think it is?
- The girl who had the affair with the senator?

Her name's Cleo Louise Eller,
only daughter to Ted and Sharon Eller.

Last seen approximately
9pm, April 6th, 2003,

leaving the Cardio Deluxe Gym on K Street.
She didn't even make it to her car.

- Pretty good memory.
- It's my job to find her.

- Congratulations on your success.
- This isn't exactly the way I wanted it to end.

Cleo Eller is not just some missing girl.

She's an intern who was
boinking Senator Alan Bethlehem.

I was secondary in the investigation into
her disappearance. We couldn't confirm that.

How did you recognise her?

I recognised her features.
The rest is window dressing.

- Shouldn't he be happier?
- Believe me, I'm happy.

- You seem happy.
- I need this kept quiet.

- Cover-up.
- Paranoid conspiracy theory.

Is it paranoia that Monica Lewinsky
was a KGB-trained sex-agent mole?

Do you do confront the senator?

- Bones...
- Don't call me Bones!

- About you coming out in the field...
- You rat bastard!

The director will create a special unit.
If I line my ducks up, I can head it up.

I think I could be a duck.

We stick to the book.
Cops in the streets, squints in the lab.

In that case, the Jeffersonian
will issue a press release.

You do that, I'm a dead duck.

- What are you trying to do?
- Blackmail you.

- Blackmail a federal agent?
- Yes.

- I don't like it.
- You're not supposed to.

Fine, you're in.

- You're certain it's Cleo?
- The profile's dead-on. Age, race...

The timeline fits.
Cleo did play tennis in college.

- Talk to me about the senator.
- Cleo Eller worked for Senator Bethlehem.

- It was reported they were involved.
- We couldn't confirm it.

- He's a hound. Everybody knows that.
- Ken Thompson, Cleo's boyfriend.

Thompson's Bethlehem's aide.
He keeps his calendar.

No way the senator has an affair
he doesn't know about.

No sexual relationship, no motive.

- What about the nutcase?
- Oliver Laurier.

- You like him for this?
- He is a stalker.

- What's your first move?
- Tell the Ellers we found their daughter.

It's better to keep this quiet. It's been
two years. What's another few days?

I've come to know the family
pretty well, especially the major.

Two years is a hell of a long time in limbo.

- I'll have the cause of death by this afternoon.
- That's where we'll get started.

Hodgins identified the particulates
in Cleo's skull as rolled steel,

most likely from a sledge-type hammer.
Also, cement and diatomaceous earth.

- What's that?
- Looks like that.

It's made of prehistoric sea creatures,
used as an insecticide, filtering agent,

cleaning abrasive, ceramics.
Very common.

Diatomaceous earth.
Common or not, it's a clue.

You're positive it's our Cleo?

- We established 22 points of comparison...
- Yes, we're certain.

Did he do it? The senator?

One military man to another.

- We can't discuss the investigation.
- Can you tell us if our daughter suffered?

- Given the state of her skull...
- Cleo never saw it coming.

Thank you.

Could you tell us
what Cleo wore around her neck?

Her father's Bronze Star.

Ted won it in the first Gulf War
and he gave it to her for luck.

- Those people deserve the truth.
- They deserve the kindness of a lie.

- There'll be a report.
- Which they won't read.

- Cleo and her parents weren't even speaking.
- They told you that?

Getting information out of live people
is different than getting it out of bones.

- You have to offer up something of yourself.
- What did you do in the military?

See what you did? You asked a personal
question without offering anything in return.

Since I'm not a skeleton,
you get zilch. Sorry.

There's stab marks here. Odd markings on
the distal phalanges. Nothing I've seen before.

- Anxious, depressed and nauseous.
- Take a sick day.

Not me. Cleo Eller.

She was on lorazepam, chlordiazepoxide
and meclizine hydrochloride.

Nausea. Show me those bone fragments.

These aren't frog bones. Cleo was pregnant.
Malleus, incus, stapes - foetal ear bones.

- She was pregnant.
- Not far along.

- You want to see if we can prove paternity?
- Let's hope there's enough material.

This senator gets an intern pregnant
then murders her when it threatens his career.

- He has the connections to get away with it.
- I hate it when you make paranoia plausible.

This special unit? No way your pal
heads it up unless the powers in charge

are convinced he knows where
his bread is buttered. Either way,

that's where this investigation ends.

# What if I give you shinin' life

# And never say goodbye?

# Isn't it all so crystal-clear?

Want to get a drink?
Non-topical application?

Glug-glug, whoo-hoo!

Come on, sweetie.

What if Booth's right? What if I'm only
good with bones and lousy with people?

- People like you.
- I don't care if men like me.

Interesting leap from people to men.

I hate psychology. My most meaningful
relationships are with dead people.

- Who said that?
- It's true.

I understand Cleo, and her bones
are all I've ever seen.

When she was seven, she broke
her wrist, probably falling off a bike.

And two weeks later,
before the cast was even removed,

she got right back on that bike
and broke it all over again.

And when she was being murdered,
she fought back hard, even though...

she was so depressed
she could hardly get up in the morning.

She didn't welcome death.
Cleo wanted to live.

Honey, you ever think maybe you come off
distant because you connect too much?

- I hate psychology. It's a soft science.
- I know. But people are mostly soft.

Except for their bones.

Yeah.

You want some advice?

"Glug-glug, whoo-hoo"?

Offer up a little bit of yourself
every once in a while.

Just... tell somebody something you're not
completely certain you want them to know.

That's the second time
I've received that advice.

Well, you know I give great advice.

I'm gonna have to push this to the next level.

Why would the director of the FBI
send you instead of coming himself?

Probably because I found
that Cleo was pregnant.

- You could tell she was pregnant?
- We found foetal bones.

The only question, Senator,
is which one of you is the father?

Are you willing to submit to a DNA test?

Don't say anything on the subject without
your attorney present. That's my advice.

Advice I intend to take.
Ken, we have a vote to get to.

Uh... What are you doing?

Saliva from gum is a source of DNA.
I'll compare it to the DNA in the foetal bones.

You need a warrant for that.
Ken, she needs a warrant.

If you have any further questions,
we'll be in touch.

Ken, you OK?

I could place you under arrest on a federal
charge for uttering threats against a senator.

- What?
- Bones.

- I own her, but she was your responsibility.
- Yes, sir.

Send in Special Agent Furst.
I warned you about squints.

- But you said she wouldn't screw up.
- Yes, sir.

No. Booth didn't know I was going to see the
senator. I wanted to get a sample of his DNA.

- Exactly.
- Not helping.

Tomorrow I'm announcing the formation
of a unit to investigate the murder of Cleo.

Your investigation will be terminated.
You will not head the new unit.

Congratulations, Patrick.

- No hard feelings.
- Right.

- I need the case files in the morning.
- They'll be ready.

Thank you, Agent Furst.

At least she found out that
Bethlehem had sex with Cleo.

I did?

The report said there wasn't enough DNA
to determine paternity.

He didn't want her to take the gum.
He's hiding something.

He didn't know there wasn't enough DNA.

Might I suggest that you go back to your lab,
Dr Brennan, and get used to being there.

Come on, Bones.

- You OK?
- Don't be nice to me after I got you in trouble.

- Your heart was in the right place.
- I'm not a heart person. You vouched for me.

- Forget it.
- You think it was the senator?

He's had sex with interns. He hasn't killed
any of them. Our best bet is the stalker.

You want to check him out?
We can - what do you call it? - roost him?

- Roust.
- Roust.

The murderer snatched
the Bronze Star from her neck.

I got 12 hours before this case is over
and I'm off it. So let's go roust.

Mr Laurier,
we have a warrant to search your...

Don't run, Oliver.

Agent Booth thinks you have something
pertinent to a case he's working on.

You're looking for a Bronze Star?
Like the one Cleo wore?

- Exactly like that one.
- I don't have it.

Sometimes stalkers retain keepsakes.

- What are these things?
- Miniature lives of the saints.

Heads up, Bones.

I hand them out for donations.
I'm not a panhandler. I never stalked Cleo.

- Then why did she get a restraining order?
- OK, no. First of all, no.

Ken Thompson got the restraining order
with his boss, the senator.

Ken is only concerned
with his job and his tropical fish.

They colluded to ruin my reputation with this
specious stalker label, when in actuality...

- I was Cleo's close friend.
- Why did you run from the warrant?

My fight-or-flight response
is heavily weighted towards flight.

If there's anything I can do to help
you catch Cleo's killer, just tell me.

Full confession.
That would be great.

I loved Cleo.

Why would I hurt her?

- I'm gonna keep one of these little books.
- Whatever you need, Dr Brennan.

- This is a rough composite. You get the idea.
- Skull trauma was not the cause of death.

Cleo was stabbed five to eight times
with a military-issue K-bar knife.

Defensive wounds to her hands suggest it
wasn't till the third or the fourth penetration...

- That's likely the fatal stab right there.
...that Cleo stopped fighting back.

The damage to her distal phalanges,
the tips of her finger bones,

was caused by the murderer using
a knife to remove her finger pads.

Cranial fragmentation suggests
a 20Ib hammer striking four to five times

while her head rested on a floor
with traces of diatomaceous earth.

That's the best explanation.
This was not a crime of passion.

Cleo never saw the first stab coming.
It didn't arise out of an argument.

Why smash her face? Why whittle away
her fingers? Remove clothing and jewellery?

Sink her body?

He put more effort into hiding her identity
than he did into the murder.

The murderer planted evidence. The book
from the stalker matches the cellulose.

Military cemetery and knife
implicates her father. More misdirection.

Sound like any conniving,
son-of-a-bitch senators you know?

You expect me to declare war on a US senator

based on your little holographic crystal ball?

It's not magic. It's a logical recreation
of events based on evidence.

- No more valid than my gut.
- It's a good hypothesis.

It's not a hypothesis.
You have a dead girl and a US senator.

This is exactly why
squints belong in the lab.

You guys don't know anything
about the real world.

Come on. We're done here.

Wow.

Touchy.

You must know about her family.
Both parents vanish when she's 15.

Probably counts as the real world.

Yeah, I know the story.

I read the file.

- The cops never found out anything.
- Yeah.

Brennan figures that maybe
somebody like her had been there.

Well, for somebody who hates psychology,
she sure has a lot of it.

I thought I'd find you here. Being a good shot,
doing martial arts, is your way of dealing.

Who knows better than you
how fragile life can be?

Maybe an Army Ranger sniper
who became an FBI homicide investigator.

- You looked me up, huh?
- Mm-hm.

- You mind?
- Be my guest.

Thank you.

Were you any good at being a sniper?

A sniper gets to know about killers.
Bethlehem is no killer.

- And Oliver Laurier is?
- The way I read Laurier, he's unhinged.

That makes him dangerous.

That'd be your gut telling you that, correct?

Homicides, they're not solved by scientists.

They're solved by guys like me
asking a thousand questions,

catching people telling lies every time.

You're great at what you do, Bones.
But you don't solve murders.

Cops do.

Cleo Eller was killed on a cement floor
sprinkled with diatomaceous earth.

Traces of her blood will still be
in that cement. One of us is wrong.

Maybe both of us.

But if Bethlehem wasn't a senator, you'd be
in his basement looking for that floor.

You're afraid of him. Your hypothesis is that
squints don't solve murders and cops do.

Prove it.

Be a cop.

Booth.

They look pretty happy, don't they?

Otherwise they wouldn't
turn on the camera, I guess.

Zack said you wanted to see me?

On something you don't
like to talk about - families.

Temperance.

Partners, they... share things.

- It builds trust.
- Since when are we partners?

I apologise for the assumption.

- You got a warrant to search his place?
- You're right.

If Bethlehem wasn't a senator,
I'd be looking for that killing floor.

But you're wrong.
I was never afraid of that guy.

And I'm not doing this
because you're a genius.

I'm doing this for Cleo.

They're searching for blood traces,
a sledgehammer and diatomaceous earth.

What the hell is that?

You're making a big mistake.

...gun and badge.

I'm in charge. You come in
and mess up my investigation?

- Care to make a statement?
- Can you answer some questions?

Who gave you this warrant?
When was it delivered?

- What are you doing here?
- For all his politics, he's got nothing.

He should've left Cleo properly
like I would've. Will you sign my book?

Stalk me, Oliver,
and I will kick your ass.

I don't recognise that.
That is not mine. That is not mine!

- At least we got the hammer.
- That's all we got.

- Cement floor in the basement?
- But no blood, no diatomaceous earth.

We needed a trifecta, Bones. Physical
evidence, murder weapon, crime scene.

- They wouldn't even arrest him?
- Don't worry.

If that's the hammer used on Cleo,
he'll get arrested.

A toast to getting the murderous bastard.

The hammer's not enough.
He's gonna get away with it.

Maybe Booth is right -
outside the lab, I'm useless.

Let us take guidance
from the lives of the saints.

"Albertus Magnus,
patron saint of scientists."

I thought Magnus was
the patron saint of fishmongers.

Albertus Magnus was a 13th-century
philosopher. The fishmonger...

Fish!

You said diatomaceous earth
could be used as a filter.

- For swimming pools...
- Or tropical fish?

Oliver Laurier said that
Ken Thompson kept fish. I...

- What's your hurry?
- He knows we want diatomaceous earth.

Get in touch with Booth.
Tell him where I'm going, OK?

She didn't actually say
where she was going, did she?

Stop! You can't destroy evidence!

This is a private residence.
Do you have a warrant?

I'm working with the FBI. If I have suspicion
of a crime, I don't need a warrant.

What crime?

Destruction of evidence
pertinent to a federal investigation.

I'm just cleaning up.

Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?

This linoleum looks fairly new.

What's underneath? Cement?

The cement embedded in Cleo's skull
when you bashed her head in?

- Get out of here.
- I can't let you destroy evidence.

- How will you stop me?
- I will.

Not before I burn this place down
with you in it.

Argh!

I don't get it.
It wasn�t jealousy or passion.

She wouldn't get rid of your boss's baby,
so you got rid of her.

What a psychology!
What kind of person are you?

Temperance.
Are you all right?

I understand you're here
out of concern for my safety,

but you could be in some kind
of psychotic collusion with Ken.

Go apply pressure to his wound
until the police get here.

OK. OK.

- Did he kill Cleo?
- Yeah, he did.

OK.

Then I'm down with him bleeding to death.

That guy dies, Bones will go on trial
for attempted murder. You don't want that.

I wouldn't want that.

Besides, you know, applying pressure,
that can be very painful.

The evidence said he did it,
but... I don't know why.

It doesn't matter.
Motive does not matter.

- He did it to save his job.
- His job?

Senator in a scandal, he'll lose the Beltway
fast track. It's that simple. It's a tough town.

Yeah, it is a tough town.

In the future,
maybe I should do the shooting.

Why? I'm a good shot.

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace."

"Where there is hatred, let me sow love."

"Where there is injury, pardon."

Is the FBI gonna lay charges
against Brennan?

She only shot him in the leg once.

She didn't give him a warning.
She just shot him, with alcohol on her breath.

It was her first shooting.
You can't expect her to be perfect.

How much warning did you give
people before you sniped them?

"Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope."

"Where there is darkness, light."

- What?
- I told you it wasn't the senator.

I told you who it was. We're even.

We're on the same cases and you end up
on the New York Times Bestsellers List.

- I didn't know that.
- Number three, with a bullet.

That's good, right?
The New York Times, or the bullet?

- You're rich. Call your accountant.
- I don't have one.

- Get one.
- How does that work?

You need to get out of the lab.
Watch TV, turn on a radio, anything.

Pick up the phone and...

"Where there is sadness, joy."

"O Divine Master, grant that I may seek
not so much to be consoled as to console."

"To be understood as to understand."

"To be loved as to love."

You know, if it weren't for you...

those people would never have known
what had happened to their daughter.

That's gotta be worse than the truth.

I know exactly how the Ellers felt about Cleo.

My parents disappeared when I was 15,
and nobody knows what happened to them.

Being a sniper, I took a lot of lives.

What I'd like to do before I'm done...
is try and catch at least that many murderers.

Please. You don't think there's
some kind of... cosmic balance sheet?

I'd like to help you with that.

Ahh...

Visiontext Subtitles: Tanja Laden

What's that mean?

ENGLISH SDH