All language subtitles for Stitchers.S03E04.720p.WEB-HD.x264.300MB-Pahe.in_track3_[eng]

♪♪

Linus:
Previously on Stitchers...

I need to appoint someone
to take all my responsibilities.

Please tell me
I didn't lose a potentially
career-changing promotion

just so you could date
the new brunette?

We are not okay.

Wait, you're handling
this stitch?

He's got the yips.
He's worried about you.

And that is why we need
to keep your mother safe,

so that after stitching
technology is perfected

we can stitch into her
living evolved brain
and map it completely.

-Good talk.
-Hmm.

Woman: Her oxytocin levels are
rising in response to what
she's seeing in the stitch.

Things are heating up.

The more physically intimate
you guys are,

the more it's going to mess
with your ability to stitch.

We have to do this
if we're gonna
save my mother.

Oh, I know.
I'm with you.

-How are those oxytocin levels?
-Holding steady. Yours?

(chuckles)

Never lower.

(machine trilling, beeping)

(lock clicks)

Camille:
You're doing it
all wrong.

-What?
-The walk of shame.

There's no walk.
There's no shame.

I gotta say, I give you
and Cameron a lot of credit for
holding out as long as you did

before finally throwing oxytocin
to the wind in favor of
the other big (moans) "O."

We didn't.
It was more like Kubrick,
a kiss, and a cuddle.

We're keeping things
very PG around here.

-And your night?
-Unh.

Hard "R."

-Cameron's really able
to keep his hands off you?
-He's got incredible willpower.

He's fine.

-(grunting)
-98.

99, 100.

Yo, bro, how long
you gonna keep this up for?

As long as it takes
for you to work up
a damn oxytocin filter.

-Feet.
-Look at the bright side.

Look how much money
you're gonna save
on your gas bills

with all those
cold showers you take.

Oh, cold showers
aren't a thing.

And money, I have.

What I don't have is
a functioning oxytocin filter.

-Can we talk about
your yips for a moment?
-No.

Look, I get it,
you're freaked out
about Kirsten.

-Not talking about it.
-And you're afraid
of her getting hurt.

And that fear has
manifested itself into yips.

-Still not talking about it.
-I'm just saying.

I agree with you.

You should let Camille
pilot stitches for a while.

-I'm a good listener
if you ever need one.
-No.

Thanks, but I'm good.

For now, I'll do me,
you do the filter.

You got it, boss.

So define "a cuddle."
Was there spooning?

Instead of you asking me
inappropriate questions
and me avoiding them,

can I interest you
in a little trouble?

Go on.

To save my mother, we need
to perfect stitching, right?

Go on!

And to perfect stitching,
we need to fully map
the human brain, right?

And now that Cameron
has me piloting the stitches--

Then we can spend
a little more time in
the regions that we need to map.

-Okay, except that we don't--
-Yes, we do.

I hacked into the lab's
mind map system.

Our progress,
mapping the brain.

Pulsing sections are everything
we've already treaded.

And the static areas
are regions that
we haven't fully mapped yet.

They'll be our focus
moving forward.

Okay, so, just to be clear,
you want me to go
behind the back of

and flip a hearty bird

to my employer,
the National Security Agency?

-Absolutely.
-It's about damn time.

-Cameron doesn't know
you want to do this?
-No. And he can't find out.

He's obsessed with my safety,
and lingering anywhere
long enough to map it

would just completely
freak him out.

And also, you don't
go to your boss

when you want
to break protocol.

You come to
someone like me.

Now what we need
is a body.

(dramatic music playing)

(screams)

(theme music playing)

♪ Take me inside ♪

♪ Take me inside ♪

Vic's a John Doe,
mid-to-late 30s.

Shot once in the chest
before being thrown

or falling off the roof
of the Windwood Hotel.

Tattoo on his right forearm

is running through
image recognition now.

Killer also shot off
his left index finger.

-That reminds me,
we're out of baby carrots.
-Finger's missing.

However, terracotta shards
were in the wound.

So we dug out the bullet
from a tile in the roof

where we know
his hand was held down.

We're running
ballistics on it now.

Why shoot off his finger?

Maybe the killer was trying
to make a point.

No pun intended.

Maybe I should pilot this.

Both: No.

You might still have a little
performance anxiety.

-(stutters) She means in
a stitch kind of way.
-Of course.

It's the only frame
of reference I have on you.

You can try naming
all the state capitals.

-I hear that helps.
-I don't have
performance... anx...

Whatever.

You can pilot.

Here's my map.

This must be what
Beyonce feels like when
she drops a secret album.

After you upload it,
watch out for Linus.

He'll be the first one
to notice something's up.

You know, you could always
think of the starting lineup
for the '69 Mets.

I don't know-- gosh,
you're enjoying this,
aren't you?

I am.

Lights to 20%, please.

-I need a go, no-go for
stitch neurosync. Life-Sci?
-Go.

-Sub-Bio?
-Go.

-Engineering?
-Go.

You can also think of all
the different kinds of pickles.

Works for me.

-Communications?
-Go.

-Medical?
-Go.

-Com check. One-two, one-two.
-Let's get into trouble.

All right.
Obligatory movie quote?

-"I see dead people."
-Too easy.

Induce stitch neurosync
on my mark.

In three, two, one... mark.

This is odd.

Describe "odd."

I'm in a gallery of some kind,
but it's deserted. No people.

-And I'm sensing something.
-What?

-What are you sensing?
-I'm sensing that it's
not a real art gallery.

I can't explain it.
John Doe isn't here.

-Does she need to bounce?
-Kirsten, do you need to bounce?

No. I must be here for a reason.
Let's stick around a while.

-Linus, where is she?
-Part of the brain responsible
for symbols and imagery.

It's an area
we haven't mapped fully.

-Might explain
what she's feeling.
-Move her somewhere else.

-No, let her poke around.
-Camille.

-My stitch, my rules.
-My lab, my orders.
Mission clock's running.

Got a memory hotspot
in another region
that's mapped a little better.

-Move her.
-Linus...

Isolate memory image
and grab what you can, thanks.

Did I make a mistake
trusting you?

No, sir. Kirsten,
pressure's on to move.

No, wait, I see something.

It's like a dollhouse scene,
but on a display stand.

(cellphone chimes)

Just got a hit
on John Doe's tattoo.
British Royal Marines.

He's a sailor?

Apparently who plays
with dolls.

There are weird things.

There's a swan and a sword.

And a patch of grass.

-(soldiers march)
-An apple tree.

There's four toy soldiers
marching underneath it,
around a golden snake.

Any of you geniuses know
what any of this means?

(sighs) Sorry,
I don't speak bizarro.

There's a tile on
another pedestal.
A cow standing on it.

And there's another golden snake
wrapped around the cow.
Like a hug.

This is the kinda dream I have
after, like, three tequilas.

John Doe encrypted his memories.
This is image-based encoding.

Move her to the language
processing cortex.

I kinda feel like there's
more to explore here.

Mission clock at two minutes
and forty-three seconds.

There's no time. John Doe
created an image-based
language for himself.

We need to be
in the language
processing cortex.

-Cameron, I just think--
-I don't care what you think.

-This stitch is over.
Tell her to bounce.
-Hey, talk to me, please.

-Death moment approaching.
-Playtime's over.
Death moment is upon us.

(hissing)

(machine powers down)

You okay?

-I'm fine.
-What were you two playing at?

-Nothing.
-Reckless or stupid?

Oh, I don't like
your tone, Goodkin.

You kept Kirsten
in an unmapped area
for longer than I wanted to,

so are you
reckless or stupid?

Well, that depends.
Are you the lab director
or a flustered boyfriend?

Neither. Right now,
I'm the guy who's wondering if
he was wrong for trusting you.

Okay, guys, let's just dial
the temperature down here.

It's my fault.
I told Camille to do it,

um, to beef up mind mapping
in areas we're weakest in.

It'll prepare us better
to stitch into my mother.

Did you at least
see who killed John Doe?

Yeah. A golden snake,
whatever that means.

I'll tell you what it means.

It means John Doe
built a mind palace,

a memory technique
for people who need to
keep their secrets secret.

-Royal Marines plus
mind palace equals--
-John Doe was a spy.

-Kirsten: More gold.
-(beeps)

More like gold-gold.

-That's it.
-And save and swipe.

-Kirsten: Cow. Snake.
-Cowsnake. Here it is.

A harmless snake encouraged
by farmers to live in barns.

John Doe's snake was
far from harmless.

-What about the soldiers?
-There were four
of them. Marching.

-Cameron, where you going?
-Rogue.

I'm going rogue.
A concept you're familiar with.

While you're gone,
I'll follow up with
Fisher on ballistics.

And we can check out
the crime scene, uh,

see if there's anything there
that ties into the images.

(bored)
Yay, a field trip.

I'll go with you.

I could apologize again
if it would make you happy.

Look, you know
I've accepted

prioritizing
your mother over us,

but then you go behind my back
and make this secret plan

for the stitch with Camille
instead of coming to me?

You would have said no.

What part of, "I need you
to trust me," did you
not understand?

Is this what it is
to care about someone?

That you're worried
about them all the time?

Because, Cameron, that just
doesn't sound right to me.

I have a history of
watching people I care about get
into bad situations or worse.

Well...

-Then maybe we
shouldn't be together.
-This isn't was this is about.

No. If I'm causing you
more pain than happiness,

then I don't want
anything to do with this.

You are not the only one
who gets to worry about
how the other person is doing.

Fine.

I'll work on not being
such a helicopter boyfriend.

That's the last time
you go rogue.

At least,
not without me.

Okay. You got it.

I'll be Rogue One
and you can be Rogue Two.

Oh, there will never
be a Rogue Two.

Agent Goodkin, I'll tell you
the same thing I told you
over the phone.

MI6 has nothing
to tell the NSA.

So, none of your people are
in Los Angeles right now?

-I didn't say that.
-A man was murdered
at the Windwood Hotel.

We think
he's one of yours.

-Do you have a name?
-No. There was no
identification on him.

I assure you, Agent Goodkin,
there's no connection between
your John Doe and MI6.

He has a Royal Marines tattoo.
And we have reason to believe
he was familiar with spycraft.

If this man was a member
of the Royal Marines,

I honor and respect
his memory...

but that still doesn't
make him MI6.

What I don't respect is the NSA.

Always barging in
where they're not welcome,

wanting cooperation,
but never offering
any in return.

You see, I've dealt with
your organization in the past.

Don't care for it.

And see no reason
to do it again.

So, what is it you want, hmm?
You want cooperation?
I'm willing to offer it.

Consider it a professional
courtesy. What...

do you want?

What I want, you don't have
the authority to grant.

Try me.

Help me help you.

Why are you quoting
Jerry Maguire?

He does that.

So... what do you want?

Cameron:
Her name's Chloe Marks.

LAPD picked her up last night
on a drunk and disorderly.

A drunk MI6 agent?
Let me guess, vodka martinis?
Shaken, not stirred?

So, any chance Stephanie
can pull some strings
at the DA's office?

We get her out,
Agent Stick-Up-His-Ass
helps us with our John Doe.

Why doesn't he go
through official channels?

-I dunno. Didn't want
to embarrass the agency.
-Uh-huh.

All right, let me see
what I can do, but no promises.

Okay.

"Agent Stick-Up-His-Ass," huh?
What happened to
"professional courtesy"?

Huh. You should hear what
I really wanted to call him.

Our jobs are to put people
in jail, not get them out.

-Why the sudden interest
in Chloe Marks?
-It's a quid pro quo.

If Chloe's the "quid"
who's the "quo"?

Classified, I get it.

-She punched a cop.
-She's a foreign national.

Tell that to the cop's
busted nose.

Well...

Are you really going to make me
do this without going through
the proper channels?

We both know no one can make
Stephanie Fisher do anything
she doesn't want to do.

I'll file the paperwork.

Thank you. I owe you.

Dinner?

(chuckles)

This favor goes
way beyond dinner,
my friend.

I can work with that.

She's so...

-Young.
-...pretty.

Chloe Marks.

Which one of you
is my savior?

Ah, it was a team effort.
I'm Agent Goodkin,
this is Agent Clark.

We're with the NSA.
Dexter Abbott sent us.

Well, it's about bloody time.

Never mind.

Get me a fluffy robe
and all the little
lavender amenities,

-and I'll forgive you both.
-Or...

how about we call you a cab,
you go back to the hotel,

and you can get
your own amenities?

Yeah, about that.
Tiny problem.

The hotel booted me after my,
I assure you, provoked,

unfortunate conduct
in their lounge.

-So where are you staying now?
-It's a moving target.

Well, we can take you
back to Abbott's office.

Please. Not looking like this.

I don't mind
the occasional
"walk of shame"--

God knows I've done
enough of them--

but this one could be
a career ender.

Well, I'm not too far from here,
if you want to come back
to my place and clean up.

-You're a love.
-Yeah, car's right over here.

Professional courtesy.

(mouthing)

Linus:
Nothing here matches
the images in the stitch.

Apple tree. Blossoms.

Roots underground.
It's for hidden.

Snake and apple.
It's like Adam and Eve.

Is it a relationship
gone wrong

or a relationship
gone right?

You're working too hard.

Pretty much the first time
I've ever been accused of that.

Yeah. I think...

each image is a specific phrase,
words, word, or a word fragment.

It's a language.

That only our John Doe knew.

I should loop Ivy in on this.
She's really good at
this sort of thing.

Really? Ivy again?

You'd like her if you
got to know her.

I'm sure she's lovely
or something.

(sighs) Look, I know...

things are "not okay,"
to use your words--

Good, you were
paying attention.

But we gotta
get past this.

Whether you like it or not,
Ivy is important to me.

So, I'm sorry supporting her
before didn't work out.

It bit me in the ass.

But that's not
my fault. Or yours.

Can't we please
just move on?

Look, I'm seeing Ivy
today after work.

Why don't you
join us? Drinks?

I, uh-- I already have
plans tonight.

You have plans?
You're seeing someone?

Oh.

Who is he?

All right. Nobody knows,
so not a word.

I'm dating the medical examiner
who works with the program.

-Amanda? But she's--
-Uh-huh. Stay woke.

Hey. I'm just
surprised, that's all.

Ugh! Fine. Screw drinks.

Bring Ivy to the house
for dinner tonight.

Amanda and I will cook.

-Are you sure?
-Yes.

And listen,
nobody in the lab
knows about Amanda.

And it's been
pretty perfect,

but it's also new and I
don't want to make this
an in-lab meme, so...

Oh, don't...
Don't worry. I got it.

Lips are sealed.
That's a language
I understand.

Man:
Taxi!

(shower splashing)

Kirsten:
So, now what's the game plan?

Well, we held up our end
of the bargain, now MI6
has to hold up theirs.

We'll tell Abbot that
we rescued his agent

-and hopefully he can find out
who our John Doe is.
-(faucet squeaks)

Okay. Well, text me
after you talk to him.

-I figured you'd go.
-And you'd stay here?

-It is my loft.
-You made the deal with Abbott.

Agent Goodkin...

do you happen to have something
I can wear while my clothes dry?

Things got a little
messy last night,

so I washed them in your sink.

Uh, Agent Clark can
help you with that. I...

was just leaving.

(door opens, closes)

Abbot: John Harrington.

He was a mid-level
agent with us.

Forgive me, I had no idea
how serious this was.

I assume Harrington
was here on a case.

No, not recently.

A few months ago, yes.

Well, the NSA's gonna need
to see the file for the case
he was working on.

Sorry, it's been scrubbed.

All right,
we need to cooperate
with each other.

NSA is hard to cooperate with.

That case Harrington was on,

he brought his wife, Belinda,
with him as part of his cover.

She was unaware
it was a business trip.

Then she was abducted,
right from the hotel where
she was going to meet John.

Kidnapped?

Ransom demands were made,
payments dead-dropped.

She is presumed dead.
Body never found.

Harrington went
balls-to-the-wall
to find her killer.

I tried to reason with him,
but he'd have none of it.

Went rogue,
came back here
on his own dime.

That's when
I brought in Chloe--
uh, Agent Marks, to find him.

How do you know
Belinda isn't still alive?

Because the animal who took her
shot off her index finger and
mailed it to Harrington.

Are you and Agent Goodkin
more than just
professional acquaintances?

Agent Marks. I don't believe
that's any of your business.

C'mon, Kirsten. Think of this
as inter-agency cooperation.

Hmm. Are all young,
female MI6 agents like you?

God, I wish. Imagine the fun.

Is that your mission?
To bring fun to MI6?

You don't think
much of me, do you?

That's okay,
neither did my family.

I had a very
privileged upbringing.

What's the old saying?
With great privilege
comes stuffy parents.

So when MI6 recruited me,
I went for it.

-To rebel?
-To make a difference.

(cellphone chimes)

Cameron just texted.

Abbott said the agent's name
was John Harrington

and that you were
looking for him in the days
before he was killed.

Well, he was
my first assignment.

Cocked that up good.

Please tell me you're
close to finding his killer.

(cellphone chimes)

Ugh. It's Abbott.
He's summoning me.

Talk of "stuffy."

He and Harrington used to be
partners, did you know that?

Actually, no.

Hmm. It's interesting
Abbott didn't tell you.

-Anyway--
-Well, if you think
of anything else,

-please let me know.
-Well, I'm tapped out,

but I'll pick Abbott's brain
when I see him.

And if he accidentally says
something interesting,
I'll let you know.

So, Harrington's
wife's name is Belinda.
Try this on.

We know that Old High German for
"bright serpent" is Betlinde.

The golden snake
is Belinda.

That's... possible.

But that would mean Harrington's
death memory is of him being
attacked by his dead wife, so...

Let's try this.

Harrington "cut" from MI6
to search for his wife.

-His wife's the swan?
-Swans mate for life.

(sighs)

Okay, new topic.

How long do you think
it would take you to break

a six-digit code
on the credenza
in Maggie's office?

Think whatever's inside
that credenza might have
something to do

with how our cases
get picked.

Maggie put me in charge,
I need to know everything.

Just ask her.
She might tell you.

Yeah, but then again,
she might not.

Never ask a question
you don't want to hear
the answer to.

Hours to weeks.

Long as it gets done
before Maggie gets back.

How goes twisted Pictionary?

-Oh. My brain is fried.
-Yeah, I'm callin' it.

Everyone go home.
Get some rest.

We'll pick this up
tomorrow, huh?

-I thought we were
getting some rest.
-Oh, boss never sleeps.

-Okay, can I help--
-Nah, I'm good.

You didn't let me finish.

Can I help you
decide where we're gonna
take-out from tonight?

So, I'm thinking
tonight's Kubrick film
should be Barry Lyndon,

an Irish adventurer who
was recruited to be a spy.

-Art imitating life?
-(chuckles)

Hope you don't mind.
I let myself in.

(dramatic music playing)

It's lovely. Thank you.

Are you okay to talk
about what happened?

Abbott was miffed
I lost Harrington...

-and got pinched by the cops.
-Doesn't explain the violence.

Don't let Abbott's
bearing fool you.
He's an animal.

Used to brag about
waterboarding detainees.

Well, something
must've set him off.

I did ask him
about his relationship
with Harrington.

-What'd he say?
-Nothing. That's when
he went balls-off on me.

You must've hit a nerve.

-You think Abbott
could've killed Harrington?
-Pushed him off a roof?

No, he's far too clean.

Well, maybe Abbott
wanted it to look like
someone-not-as-clean did it.

It's not my problem anymore.
I'm done with MI6.

I mean, I did not
sign up for... this.

So I quit.

Have an early morning
flight back to London. Tomorrow.

Then, you'll stay here
until then. It's safer.

You can have Cameron's room.
We'll take the couch.

Both of you?

Together?

Cozy.

Babe, are you sure
your friends are cool
with mezcal?

I mean, not everyone's
into the smoky taste.

Camille: Yeah, yeah,
don't worry about Linus.

Ivy might be more
of a wild card.

You are so...

Oh, my goddess,
I can't even describe it.

-(knock on door)
-(groaning)

-That's them.
-I'm glad we're doing this.

Oh, hello and welcome.

-Hey, it's great
to see you again.
-Mm-hmm.

-Amanda? I'm Ivy.
-Mm-hmm.

And this is
a Mezcal Mule.

It's my grandma's recipe.
She drank like a pirate.

(laughter)

We brought wine.

For after, perfect.
You guys just chill.

Amanda and I will
finish making dinner.

Yeah.

-Shiitake for a green pepper?
-Kirsten: Deal.

I'd offer you beer or wine,
but Agent Marks cleaned me out
pretty good.

Hmm. She had a rough day.

Aah. Rough two days.

(cellphone rings)

Oh, it's Maggie.

"All of Harrington's files
were scrubbed except the one
he was working on here.

"That wasn't scrubbed,
because it never existed."

-So Abbott lied to us?
-A spy who lies,
what are the odds?

It's called a mind palace.

Could the sum of the letters
of cow be the answer?

See, it's not a code,
it's a language.

Welcome to
"Around Los Angeles
in 80 Bites."

These are my favorite appetizers
from my favorite restaurants.

Just please try my gnocchi
before you decide who's
Top Chef in this relationship.

-Ooh, wait.
We forgot the crackers.
-Oh, I'll grab 'em.

-Uh, Linus, you wanna be
a dear and help Amanda?
-Amanda: Oh.

I'm pretty sure
I don't need any help.

It's on a high shelf.
You're my pocket bae.

-Tall-ish Linus to the rescue.
-(Ivy chuckles)

(clears throat)

Okay, listen.
Please don't hurt Camille.

Wow. Where did
that come from?

From someone who really
cares about her.

-You mean, like me?
-I mean me.

What do you mean,
"what is my game?"

You heard me, sweetheart,
I don't trust you.

And that's fine, because
I don't really trust
a lot of people,

but if you hurt
Linus in any way--

What makes you think
I would hurt Linus?

Oh, I don't know,
let me think. Genetics?

-I'm warning you,
Camille may act tough, but--
-(laughs) Hold up.

Did you just say,
"I'm warning you"?

Do you have any idea
what I do for a living?

I know nine different ways
to kill you and make it
look like natural causes.

So why don't you
get the frickin' crackers

before I show you
number eight?

I'm not my father.

I like Linus
for who he is.

-There's no ulterior motives.
-If you're using him

to get inside information
on the program though,

I'd say that qualifies
as an ulterior motive.

Trixy-bits for everyone.

Yummy!

Quincy? I have to talk
to you about something.

Good or bad?

I'm not sure yet.

I got a call from a friend
of mine at the DOJ.

My name has come up
in some meetings

and there might be
an opening there...

-for me.
-It's what you've always wanted.

-It probably won't happen.
-Hey.

That's what we thought about us.
And now, here we are.

This is great.

Yes. This is.

(indistinct chatter)

Mm. Mm.

This is way better than sex.

-Mm.
-Okay, maybe not
better than sex.

But these days, I gotta take
what I can get, right?

We need to get
everyone to the lab.

-What's up?
-I think Abbott...

is way more involved
than he's letting on.

-I'll shoot a text to the team.
-Well, what about Chloe?
She shouldn't be alone.

-Well, she'll be fine
until the morning.
-No, no, no, no.

If Abbott's involved, he'll be
able to figure out my address.

-This loft's in my name.
-Oh, my house isn't.
It's in Ed Clark's name.

Okay, wake her up.
Tell her there's
a change in venue.

Okay.

She sleeps naked.
You wake her up.
I'll text.

-Camille?
-Yeah. Got Cameron's text.
Let's go.

Hey, wait. This is
Chloe Marks from MI6.

-Charmed, I'm sure.
-Likewise.

Cool if she
stays here tonight?

Mmm. I'm...

not sure tonight
is the best--

-Why not?
-(chuckles) Because she's
already got an overnight guest.

(Amanda chuckles sheepishly)

Of course she can stay.

(sighs) Amanda,
meet Kirsten and Chloe.

Kirsten you know about.
Chloe is an MI6 agent
in grave danger.

Oh, very exciting.
I work with the dead.

-Oh, then you must
know my family.
-(laughter)

I like this one.

Why don't you guys run off

and Chloe and I
will swap horror stories.

We won't be long.

-Is there wine?
-Yes, loads.

Take your time.

-We won't be too long. I hope.
-Okay.

-Camille--
-Oh, God, please
don't make it a thing.

I was going to say that
I'm happy for you.

Amanda seems great.

Yeah.

Look at this.

-A cow.
-And this?

A cow.

Uh-uh. What is
a baby cow, Alex?

Correct. I'll take "Seriously,
you ruined my evening
over this" for a thousand.

Well, it's not a baby cow.

It's a miniature breed.
It's called a Dexter cow.

As in Dexter Abbott.

The cow on the
mind palace was standing
on a terracotta tile.

Dexter was on the roof
of the hotel which has
terracotta tiles.

So either Abbott was there
when Harrington was killed,

knows who killed him,
or killed him himself?

Let's go with
option number three.

Just got ballistics.
Bullet found on the roof
was typed through Interpol.

It is from Abbott's weapon.

Let Maggie know what we found.

Go to Abbott's apartment,
see if he's there.
Proceed with caution.

We'll go to the consulate
and check his office.

Nice work, boss.

Elementary, my dear Fisher.

See. Not here.

(Kirsten gasps)

(gun clatters)

Okay. Got it.

Everything okay?

Um...

your boss was attacked
in his office.

He was shot.

Dexter?

Oh, my God.

Is he dead?

He lost a lot of blood
and is heavily sedated.

-I should go see him.
-No. Camille says
we should stay put,

keep the doors locked,
and just hunker down
until she gets back.

Why? Am I in danger?

Look, we're just
gonna hunker down,

drink some more vino...

and it'll all be fine.

Hey, boss.

Prepare to kneel before me.

You worked up
an oxytocin filter?

Yeah... funny story
about that. No.

So why am I kneeling
before Zod?

Once we knew that
the cow represented Dexter

and that the tile represented
the roof of the hotel,

I was able
to develop a codex.

We now have
an interpretation protocol

to help us unravel all of
Harrington's mind palace images.

Very cool.

-You ready, boys?
-Let's find out if Zod is right.

Zod is always right.

All right, thanks
to Dr. Ahluwalia

we might have a filter
that unravels
Harrington's mind palace.

Lights to 20%, please.

I need a go, no-go for--

I'll, uh-- I'll
take it from here.

You sure?

Yeah. After me and
Kirsten were shot at,

it scared the yip
right out of me,

but it also made me
realize that I need to be
in control of my own mind

before I let
her traipse around
in someone else's,

so... (exhales)
I'm working on that.

I'm good.

The inside of Kirsten's head
is all yours, dude.

All right. Radio station
KCAM, Los Angeles,

we're back on the air and
playing all your favorite hits.

-I need a go, no-go
for stitch neurosync. Life-Sci?
-Go.

-Sub-Bio?
-Go.

-Engineering?
-That's a go, Big Bopper.

-Excellent reference.
Communications?
-Communications are a go.

-Medical?
-Go.

-Com check. One-two, one-two.
-I hear you, Easy Listening.

All right. Induce stitch
neurosync on my mark
in three, two, one...

we'll be right back
after this...

mark.

Memories are still encrypted.

Just gimme a moment.

Any chance we can mind map more
of this region while we're here?

-Map what you can,
as fast as you can.
-Thank you, "teamwork."

-Okay. Codex filter
should be kicking in.
-Kirsten?

I see a door.

It's open.
It's filled with white.

-More mind palace?
-No. Viable memories
are beyond that door.

-Camille, how's the mapping?
-Dense.

It's all white because
the memories are encrypted
and the area isn't fully mapped.

Mapping takes time.
Your call. Stay or move on?

Let's move.

-Think of the end game.
-I am. Catching whoever
shot Harrington.

I'm going through.

(birds chirping)

(instrumental music playing)

I'm at a wedding,
and it's not encrypted.

Tell Zod, "Nice job."

Father:
Dearly beloved, we are
gathered here today...

-Cameron:
Do you see Harrington?
-Yup, he's the groom.

It's his wedding to Belinda.
Abbott's here too.

I, John Harrington, take you...

There's apples, just like
in Harrington's memory.

And a family crest.
It's the swan and the sword.

Come to mama.

Okay. Swan and the sword seal's
a crest belonging to
the Lindsay Family of Ireland.

Hello. MI6 scrubbed
all of Harrington's records,

but they didn't touch
Irish Marriage records.

Hello and how do you do?
Harrington was married
the fourth of March.

-Four marching soldiers.
-Bride was Belinda Lindsay.

(mutters)
A beautiful snake.

(Belinda speaks, echoes)
I take you, John Harrington,
to be my husband.

Kirsten:
Oh, I understand.

Cameron:
What?

Kirsten:
The snake coiled
around the cow--

Belinda and Abbott
were having an affair,

and Harrington must have
found out about it.

Belinda:
...until death do us part.

That means that Belinda
was on the roof with Abbott.

They killed
Harrington together.

Pull up what
you can on her.

Belinda:
...until death... death...
death... death.

She wanted her family ring back.

It was probably stuck.
That's why she shot
his finger off.

Okay, we're burning daylight.
Death moment's upon us.
You got eyes on bridezilla?

(dramatic music playing)

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

-Camille!
-I'm bouncing.

(beeping)

Belinda Lindsay is Chloe Marks,
and she's in my house right now!

-Amanda: I'm definitely
a Ravenclaw.
-(cellphone rings)

-Chloe: Oh.
-Mm-hmm.

-Yes.
-(both chuckle)

Oh, hey. I'd have
saved you a plate.

Chloe:
Is that Camille?

Uh, yeah, just finished
work early.

Early? It's almost dawn.

-(Camille clears throat)
-Hey, Camille.

Thanks so much for
letting me stay here.

Amanda are I
are now good friends.

Oh.

Not too good, I hope.
(nervous chuckle)

Is it hot outside?
You're sweating.

It's a little... humid.

Um, Amanda, can I talk to you
on the porch real quick?

Hey.

Are you sure Amanda
doesn't want her phone?

(dramatic music playing)

Amanda, go. (grunts)

(both grunting)

(gagging)

(Chloe screams)

(police siren wailing)

Hope you're hungry.
We saved you some plates.

I usually do this
on dead people.

Yeah? How do I compare?

Umm... sexier than some.

-Aah!
-(snickers)

Thanks for saving my life.

Man, when Chloe came at us
with that knife,

I dunno, something
snapped inside me.

I was just so afraid
of losing you.

I don't let people in.
It's not who I am.

It's not who I...
raised myself to be.

But I let you in.

It must be scary.

I'm so scared.

But I'm so excited.

My life makes sense
with you in it.

Oh, you are pretty pleased
with yourself, aren't you?

And why not?
We got the bad guys.

A murderous MI6 agent
who slept naked in my bed...

Don't push it, pal.

...and her boss, both of whom
are going to spend the rest
of their lives in jail.

(laughs) Well, that's
inter-agency cooperation.

Heh. Thing is, if she felt
so trapped in her marriage,
why not just get a divorce?

'Cause she was all about fun,
and it was way more fun

to seduce Abbott and get him
to help her disappear,

and kill her husband
when her first plan
crashed and burned.

-Poor guy.
-Oh, gotta give him credit.

He used the NSA
to get her out of jail.

He used us,
not the NSA.

"Ee-ther, eye-ther."

Poor Harrington.

All he had to do
was forget about Belinda
after she went missing.

Well, he couldn't.

He loved her.

(soft instrumental
music playing)

Some part of him
knew that nothing
could keep them apart,

not even her death.

-(sighs)
-(laughs)

-Thank you, though, for
saving me in Abbott's office.
-You're welcome.

-Cured my, uh...
-Yips.

-Yeah.
-Yeah?

(chuckles)

-Oh, so the other day...
-Hmm?

-I'm sitting here...
-With your feet on the desk.

-Absolutely.
-Yes.

...when I hear
this buzzing sound...

-Mm-hmm.
-...coming from
inside that cabinet.

And right after that,
I got Harrington's stitch alert.

-Related?
-I think so.

I think there's a device
in there that's connected
to how our cases get picked.

-It's a six-digit unlock code.
-Mm-hmm.

-Randomized. And the code
changes every 15 minutes.
-(keys beep, device beeps)

-This will take forever.
-(clears throat)

Welcome to forever.

Linus.

If we can only find out where
this gets its information from--

Well, then we can figure out
where our cases come from,
and we can pick

the ones that will
help us the most.

-Remember how I said I'd
help you save your mother?
-Yes.

-I meant it.
-(chuckles)

Hmm. Promise me that if things
don't work out between us--

Oh, I'll let you
keep your fingers. (hisses)

(closing theme playing)

(no discernible dialog)

♪ Take me inside ♪