Original subtitles

Previously on The Strain...

Pop, I didn't come here

to fight. I came here to warn you.

You need to get out of this city.

You appear after two years, and I'm supposed to flee

my home on what? The word of a stranger.

What is the status of the Aurora Cutlass?

- The ship left port in Egypt. - Now we just need you

to make sure that it ports here in New York.

We never cleared Central Park.

Until we take the Park back, we don't win.

The big nest. You have a plan?

- Star-spangled time. - Rockets' red glare,

bombs bursting in air. Boom.

Fire in the hole!

Pull up the checkpoint feeds.

They lured us to keep us out after nightfall.

- Pull out of the park now! - Withdraw! All units, withdraw!

It's over.

The strongest will prevail.

- Where's my son?! - Your wife

and your child call to you.

Finally gonna smoke it, huh, Fet?

You've been saving that for a month now.

Better me than some German, eh?

That is a very good point.

I will never see home again.

No. We make a pact here and now.

We fight for each other. To survive this.

For each other.

No matter what.

Fate will turn in our favor once again.

Fet!

Fetrovsky, wake up!

Wake up!

Wiped out a nest

of thousands of munchers.

By the time we got to the surface,

reinforcements overrunning Central Park.

It was a bloodbath, Professor.

You cannot

defeat an army that can regenerate itself

every few days, which is

why we have to be more

creative.

Putting 'em in a box.

Not just a box.

A box lined with silver

- and lead. - The silver will incapacitate

the Master. The lead

will cut off any signals

from the Master to his army of strigoi.

Who am I to argue?

After what happened last night in Central Park,

I, uh...

don't know if the city's gonna make it.

Faith,

Mr. Fet,

stick close to it.

I see you've been busy, Doctor.

You don't know the half of it.

Strigoi brain stem.

We think this

is their communication center.

- "We"? - Oh, uh, you haven't been introduced.

- Dutch Velders... - Yeah,

I know what you are, who you are. Sorry.

What do you hope to gain from dissecting

- these unfortunate creatures? - Their communications ability

is one of their distinct advantages.

We saw that in action in the Central Park massacre.

See this?

This is a sampling of all strigoi communication.

It's... varying

but occupying a fairly predictable range. Until here.

That looks like a call to arms to me.

A direct signal from the Master, right?

A passage in the Lumen refers to

"the silent voice of the Master."

Interesting, yet trivial.

Not if we can isolate it. If we can

set it out from the rest of the strigoi static,

then we can use this technique to track him down.

So we need a point of reference.

JFK.

- The black box. - From Regis Air

753. It might still have his "voice"

or whatever command he used

to incapacitate 210 souls on board.

JFK, that's well outside

the safe zone. Even if we go in daylight, we don't know what we'd be getting ourselves into.

Are we going?

Who is this guy we're gonna see?

Another pawnbroker.

Specialized in silver.

We often bid against each other at estate sales.

- You think he's still alive? - I don't

much care. I'm after his silver.

Where are you going? This is the wrong way!

Long as we're in this part of town, there's something I gotta check on.

My parents have an apartment nearby.

Your parents are still alive?

It's what I want to find out.

Have you been in touch with them?

Goddamn it.

Told him to leave.

Mrs. Kryvonis. Next-door neighbor.

Never liked her anyway.

Mama.

You coward.

They were infected.

This was an act of mercy.

Mr. Palmer, sir,

your blood pressure is... Ugh!

Where is your primary physician? Is he reachable?

I'm between physicians.

Or, more accurately,

beyond physicians.

Okay.

Mr. Duncan.

- Settling in? - Yes, sir.

I'm sorry to interrupt. I thought you'd like to know that the Aurora Cutlass

- has docked successfully, sir. - The Aurora Cutlass?

The vessel from Egypt, sir. It arrived in the port overnight.

- Do you have the paperwork? - The manifest?

I have it right here, sir.

Oh. I can see I hired the right man

for my new head of security.

What does this line say?

Under "cargo"?

- "Tractors," sir. - "Spare parts."

Tractors?

- This signature. - It's your signature, sir.

No, I never signed this document.

Looks like your handwriting, Mr. Palmer.

It is a forgery.

Mr. Duncan, take me to my car.

Sir, I can't let you go anywhere,

- not in your current condition. - Carla,

your job is not to tell me what I cannot do,

but to help me do the things I need to do.

Now, help me to my car.

We're going to that ship.

Do you realize you're leaving the safe zone?

Beyond here, Queens is a no-man's-land.

We have plenty of daylight.

That guy in your backseat, he doesn't look right.

He's not. But, uh,

he's with me.

- Keep your eyes open, sir. - Don't stop for nothing or nobody.

Good luck out there.

This place is picked over!

Nothing left worth having.

Anything worth having

was never on display here

to begin with. Trust me.

Looks like someone already tried to crack it.

Had no luck though.

Unfortunately, it appears

the combination died along with McTamney.

Oh, there are other ways.

Again with the dynamite, Mr. Fet?

Do I look like a safe cracker to you?

Whatever came between you and your father?

After all this time working together,

I think that's the first time you asked me a personal question.

- I never had reason to. - That's pretty simple.

Pop was a stubborn S.O.B.;

We never got along.

I never lived up to his high expectations, and...

...he never missed an opportunity to let me know it.

One day, on the phone,

we had a blowout, and, uh,

I hung up. And that was

six years ago.

Come on! Come on!

I finally broke the silence.

Went back to see him a couple of weeks ago,

and I told him

to get the hell out of the city.

You'd think he'd take some stock in what I had to say, but...

...he didn't.

Generally, I've found that more intelligent people

are usually among the last

to accept the existence of strigoi,

and therefore the last to flee.

But at least

he spared you the horror of having to release him.

He took the soldier's way out.

Yes. This is exactly what we need.

- Wait! - Ah, screw you, man!

- Get the hell out of here! - - Get out of this!

Welcome to hell, buddy.

I'll take what I want, all right?!

Don't even think about it!

Holy shit!

I was in South Sudan once.

It was like disease and war had a contest to see

who could create more suffering.

I never thought it could happen here.

Civility is an illusion.

Savagery is the default state of humanity.

That's reassuring.

- No! Get away from me! - Take what you want! Please don't hurt us!

Leave my family alone!

- Get away from us! - Empty your pockets!

- Stop! Stop! - We need to help them!

Doctor, don't follow her.

- Stay still, bitch! - Let go of them! Let go!

- Mommy! Daddy! Let go of them! - Move back! Move back!

I'll shoot her! I swear to God I'll shoot her!

Doesn't have to go down like this.

- "Like this," meaning you dying and us taking your lady? - You try it.

- It's five on two. - So why don't you just...

Go! Go! Go!

- Get him out, come on! - No, no, no, wait!

No, wait! We're not... not dangerous.

Were you expecting a thank you?

From now on, stay inside the vehicle.

Let me help you, sir.

Step aside. I am Eldritch

Palmer. I own this ship.

With all due respect, sir, uh, I can't do that.

- You are? - Cyrus Minow.

Well, Mr. Minow, perhaps you don't

understand the relationship between employer

and employee. You're fired. Move him aside.

The captain has ordered no one will set foot upon the vessel,

- and the captain's word is law. - Then I will speak with the captain.

The captain's not here right now.

Mr. Duncan?

Sir, I wasn't prepared to take the ship

by force.

I have orders, and I have to uphold them,

fired or not. No one is to set foot on the vessel.

Even you, Mr. Palmer. And I'm very sorry, sir...

As the owner of this ship and its contents,

I expressly forbid you to allow anyone

or anything on or off.

Understood? Right.

Get me out of here.

- It's like a ghost town. - This is where it all started.

You were here at the very beginning?

Nora, Jim,

- all gone now. - Welcome

to New York Kennedy International Airport.

Passengers, please do not leave your baggage unattended.

You okay?

I could have ended it here.

Right here.

- If only... - If only what?

If only I'd listened to Setrakian.

Maybe you should start listening to him now.

No, too many things have happened.

He doesn't want to have anything to do with me.

Sometimes you've gotta make the first move, Doc.

Did you think I wouldn't find out about your visit

at the Aurora Cutlass, Eldritch?

- On the contrary, Eichhorst. - I'm only surprised

it took you so long to get here.

I made it crystal clear to you:

What is on that ship is none of your concern.

"Tractor parts."

You forge my signature.

You tell me what is

or is not my concern.

I paved the way for all of this.

All of this, including that ship.

Do not overestimate your role, Eldritch.

You are but a servant to the Master.

I am no such thing.

I am not like you: His emissary,

his employee.

I am Eldritch Palmer.

I answer to no one.

Certainly not to you.

- Believe what you will. - The shipment has arrived,

and as such, your responsibility

in that matter is complete. Thank you.

The Master has no intention

of following through on his promise

of eternal life,

yet here I sit,

still alive.

Why is that, Eichhorst?

I ask myself that very same question

every time I see you, Eldritch.

It vexes you that I am still untouchable.

Perhaps

the Master has forgotten all about you.

Not true.

The Master remembers everything.

So,

he does still have a plan for me after all.

Is there something wrong with your hand, Eichhorst?

Good-bye, Eldritch.

Enjoy your magnificent view

of the downfall of New York City

and the world.

Mr. Duncan.

Get whatever manpower you need.

We're going to take that ship.

Oh, my God. All right.

There.

Broken neck, sir. Any idea who killed them?

- Search the hold. - Right away.

It's all empty, sir. Whatever was brought

- aboard this ship is... - Is gone.

- Keep working, Alexei. - Don't let them see you stop.

My hands. I can't go on.

Here.

Don't lose heart, huh?

Think of home.

Go home in your mind.

Achtung, prisoners!

The Reich has need of manpower.

I want volunteers for a new work detail.

An auxiliary corps of men

to serve the Fuhrer

and advance the glory of the Third Reich.

It is specialized labor, and accordingly,

you will be provided better food, warmer clothing,

and improved living conditions.

Here!

- Are you certain you will be able to fulfill your duties? - Yes!

Yes, we will.

You better make sure

your friend is up to the task

or else you will pay for his failure.

Yes, sir.

- Get to work. - Ja. Again.

Service for the Reich is a great honor.

You will learn that respect, hard work

and, above all, discipline are their own rewards.

You volunteered for this assignment because you wish to be useful.

You wish to contribute to the glory of the Reich.

These prisoners are of no use to our cause now.

The weak and infirm must be weeded out

in order for progress and production to flourish.

And so, Schutzmann Boiko?

Shoot him in the head.

Step back.

Schutzmann Fetrovsky.

Shoot him in the head.

Pull the trigger. Do it!

I-I-I'm sorry. I...

You shoot or I do.

I-I'm afraid we're not fit

for this special assignment after all.

As you wish.

Proceed.

Jawohl.

- Shoot them all. - Including those two.

Schliessen!

Wait!

You chose wisely but slowly, Fetrovsky.

Now, drop him

into the pit with the rest.

Proceed!

There's something I didn't tell you.

My pop isn't the first one

in my family to commit suicide.

His father, my grandfather,

also shot himself

because he couldn't live with something he had done.

As a Ukrainian soldier

conscripted by the Russians, he was captured by the Nazis

and forced to work for them.

Or chose to?

No one really knows.

However it happened,

my grandfather was a Holocaust collaborator.

He killed Jews in the concentration camps.

To my pop, this was the shame of the family, you know?

And he never spoke of it.

I learned all this from my mother.

He shortened our name from Fetrovsky

to Fet, and

became an academic... you know, a life of the mind...

To separate himself from his father's darkness.

That's why he...

he hated me being

an exterminator.

You know, someone who kills for a living.

He feared that darkness in himself...

...and in me.

The war caused

many atrocities, Mr. Fet.

It exposed the worst

in human behavior.

He had a choice.

Some men seek not the right path

but the safest one.

Some men believe only in survival,

no matter what the costs.

Your father made the right decision.

The difficult decision.

It doesn't change what his father did,

but it shows that he learned.

Now you must do for your father

what he could not do for his.

You need to forgive him.

What good does my forgiveness

- do him now? - There is a saying,

"To forgive is to set

"a prisoner free

"and discover

that prisoner was you."

This is the place?

The plague hit so fast, hopefully they didn't have

enough time to bring it down to DC.

It looks almost like a small generator,

about the size of a bread box.

And it's not a black box; It's actually bright orange.

Oh, this trip isn't a total loss.

Ooh! Thank you.

You ever drink a drunk, Quinlan?

No? More for us.

Hello.

Aren't you gonna

press some buttons or something?

You gotta figure a guy

who stashes vodka at work... Yep!

Here it is.

- How do you make it work? - Don't know. But I'm gonna have fun finding out.

We found it?

Good.

I don't trust that old bag of bones.

What do you think he wants?

Well, did you

find out whose form the Master has taken?

- Not yet. - And yet you've come

here to beg for the white.

- Pathetic. - I beg for nothing.

But I've found out something else.

Something significant.

Something potentially critical.

- You're bluffing. - What use is anything

- without the Master's identity? - A vessel

owned by Stone heart

docked here in New York

from Egypt,

carrying a very important cargo.

- What cargo? - Well, that's just it. I don't know.

Its contents were kept from me.

But clearly it is of immense importance

- to the Master. - Let's just go there.

We'll find out what it is.

Too late. I tried.

I was denied access to my own ship.

So I went back with armed guards.

All dead.

Every crewman on that ship.

And the cargo hold... empty.

Surely, you must have some clue what it was.

I simply don't have the strength to pursue the matter any longer.

Let me guess.

The formula for the white

will help you regain your strength and stamina.

Abraham,

I know we don't trust each other,

but let's put that behind us.

We share the same goal.

Help me to help you!

Give me the white.

This is a single dose.

You want the formula?

We still have a long way to go.

Agreed.

- One drop in each eye. - But not here.

I warn you. Take it somewhere where you can rest afterwards.

The serum's initial effect is

traumatic.

- You won't regret this. - Yeah.

Seriously?

What the hell you think is on that boat?

The Master is one of seven Ancients.

Three on this side of the Atlantic

aligned against him

and three Old World Ancients.

- What the hell does that mean? - It's conceivable

that he made some sort of accord

with them, brought them over

to the New World

to finish the job.

Carla, I have been given a new medication.

- You might call it experimental. - What is it?

I need to look it up. What if it interacts badly

- with your other medications? - You don't understand.

This removes the need

- for all other medications. - I can't let you

have something if I don't know what it is.

Not only will you let me, you will administer it yourself.

One drop in each eye. Take great care.

- Mr. Palmer, I-I can't... - Do it.

He tricked me.

The old fool tricked me.

Mr. Palmer?! Mr. Palmer.

Oh no! Oh no!

Oh, I quit!

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