All language subtitles for The LONE Gunmen - S00 E02 - Jump the Shark (576p - DVDRip)

Once up a time, there were
three - how shall I put this?

- Geeks.

Three more unlikely
heroes there never were.

We defend the defenceless.
I don't see any other way.

It wasn't long before their
naiveté nearly got them killed,

so they hooked up
with an FBI agent...

That's why we like you. Your
ideas are weirder than ours.

And began publishing
a - what shall I call it?

- Rag called The Lone Gunman.

The guys at the NSA and the CIA tremble
every time we put out one of these babies.

From their cramped basement office, they
pointed fingers at powerful evil forces.

And some not so evil.

In their own unique way, the three Gunmen
were patriots, fighting the good fight.

We tell the stories
others refuse to tell.

That's one way to put it.

And provided expertise
for their friends at the FBI.

She's hot.

For a brief time, it
looked as if they might

make a difference in
this cold, cruel world.

They acquired an intern
who believed in them.

Let's fight for lost
causes. I wanna help.

And a powerful,
beautiful nemesis,

who became an ally.

But the world is
not kind to idealists,

and those who fight the
good fight don't always win.

Morris.

Morris, it's going "ping".

It most certainly is.

Ping.

You're gonna make me spill.

- Morris, what is all that stuff anyway?
- Don't make me talk shop. It is so boring.

But I wanna know.

All right.

Where do I begin?

We're in the Bermuda Triangle.

That place where all those planes and
ships have mysteriously disappeared.

- Who named it the Bermuda Triangle?
- Wait. You?

Yeah. That was in my former life,
before I joined the private sector.

There are things I can't talk about owing
to national security, but I will say this:

there are powerful
forces out here.

Primal, otherworldly forces,
hidden beneath the waves,

just waiting to be
plucked by man.

Somebody's coming.

Whatever you're selling,
we don't want any. No ganja.

Whoa. Wait.

You want the girl? I can
dig it. I'm down with that.

Wait, guys. This is a rental.
There's a $15,000 deposit on this.

Your employer
wanted me to tell you,

you're fired.

- Morris Fletcher?
- Finally.

What took you so long?
You must be Reyes.

Yeah. Mr Fletcher, we've been
told you requested us by name.

We're very curious about that.

You two head the FBi's
X-Files unit, do you not?

I thought you'd appreciate
what I have to offer.

Which is?

You have no idea who
you're sitting here with, do you?

A guy who's up fudge creek for
violating the Federal Secrets Act.

I've got top security
clearance. I'm meant

to check in every month
with my ex-employer.

So I skipped a few
phone calls. Big deal.

Let me give you a hint.

I used to work at
Groom Lake, Nevada.

Area 51?

I was a man in black. The men in
black. What? You've never heard of us?

- I saw the movie.
- Yeah, well.

There are a lot of technical
inaccuracies in that thing.

Anyway, I'm ready
to make a deal.

- What deal would that be?
- The one that saves my furry pink ass.

People are trying to kill me.
Did you hear about my boat?

Your female companion
told us what she witnessed.

My fem...? You
mean they didn't kill...

- Brittany?
- Brittany.

Thank God she's still
alive. I need protection.

I need to get outta here. You
scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.

I can give you guys
the keys to the kingdom.

- UFOs, aliens, the
whole 50-year cover-up.

- I was there for all of it.
- Tell me, Mr Fletcher,

these documents of yours,

are they indicative of the kind
of secrets you can reveal to us?

Honey, they're just
the tip of the iceberg.

This is the Jupiter 2
from Lost in Space.

Yeah, those are
BS. But only those.

I was freelancing for
this foreign billionaire.

I told him the air force lost a flying
saucer in the Bermuda Triangle,

and that I could recover it for him. I
just wanted to cruise the Bahamas.

I never would have given him the
real thing. That would be un-American.

- Coming out.
- He found out. He wants to kill me.

I need protection.
Super-soldiers.

What do you know
about super-soldiers?

A bit.

It may be there's one I can
help you lay your hands on.

This super-soldier,
he have a name?

Not he. She.

What the hell do they want?

Gentlemen.

What happened here?
Did you get robbed?

- No.
- We're upgrading everything.

We gave away all our
old crap to the Salvation

Army. We're buying
totally new stuff.

- What can we do for you?
- We were hoping you could help us out.

For months now we've
been investigating this

secret cadre, the
so-called super-soldiers.

- Genetically altered humans.
- That want to kill Mulder.

Exactly. We'd like your
help tracking one down.

This woman.

You recognise her?

She's a fellow
hacker. Damn fine one.

She calls herself Yves Adele
Harlow. It's not her real name.

She disappeared a year ago
and nobody's seen her since.

We have reason to believe
that she's resurfaced,

and that she's become
one of these super-soldiers.

What in hell are you talking
about? She's no super-soldier.

- Absolutely not.
- Who told you that?

This is pointless.

These three monkeys couldn't
find stink in an outhouse.

You son of a...

- Let me at him.
- I'll hold him down.

- Fellas.
- You got a nerve coming here.

Miserable son of a bitch.

- Told you they wouldn't help.
- All right. Everybody just shut up.

This man is a professional
liar. Every word out of his mouth.

- He used us to track Yves down a year ago.
- And then he abducted her.

Which is why I know what happened
to her. I facilitated a meeting is all.

And the man I was
working for, I didn't know

in advance what he
was planning to do to her.

- Not my finest hour, I'll admit it.
- Every word out of his mouth.

Agents, I'm telling you, you
don't want these three involved.

They don't even have
their gismos. This place

is like "How the Grinch
Stole RadioShack".

All right. You three know
this woman. I want your help.

We need to track down
this Yves Adele Harlow.

Knock, please.

My office hours are 3 to
5, Mondays and Fridays.

You'll make time
for me, Professor.

Douglas, are you ready to go?

Douglas?

Airline reservation database.
What name do we look under?

Try her old standby - different
anagrams of Lee Harvey Oswald.

"Area 51 Exposé"?

Where's your new
issue? This is a year old.

Back off, skeezicks.

You'll never find her that way.

He's right. No anagrams
for Yves Adele Harlow.

- So who's Joey?
- What?

Joey Ramona.

Leader of the greatest punk rock
band in human history. Now shut up.

What?

What are you? 34? 35? Why
don't you cut your hair and grow up?

Need I remind you that Doggett
and Reyes aren't here to save you.

Yeah, well. Get yourself a real hero,
anyway. Not some dead teenybopper.

You wanna know why
Joey Ramone's my hero?

Cos people like you never
managed to grind him down.

They never stole his spirit. He never
gave in, never gave up, and never sold out.

Right till his last breath.

And he's not dead.

Guys like that,
they live forever.

[Laugh], just ignore him.

If we have to work
together, let's work together.

We don't have to work together.

Watching you three
trying to find your butts

with both hands is not
my idea of a fun time.

Wouldn't it be easier tracking
Yves if you knew her real name?

You know her real name?

Lois Runtz.

Lois Runtz? Uh-huh.

- I'm telling you the truth.
- If you were, it'd be a first.

Nobody knows about that
door. That's our secret door.

Does Lois know about it?

Yves?

Jimmy?

Guys.

Jimmy?

- How you feeling?
- Oh, right. The old errand boy.

Guy used to intern for you losers,
right? I wondered what happened to you.

Why is he here?

FBI business. It's a long story.

Where the hell
you been, big guy?

Zurich, then Malta, then Yemen.

And just now New Jersey.

It's been a real geology lesson.

I ran out of money,
so I hitchhiked here.

I snuck in the back cos I didn't
know if the place was being watched.

I just had to see you guys.

It's about Lois.

Lois Ru ntz?

- That's Yves' real name.
- I told you so.

Wait a minute.

You tracked her all
over the world? You?

Mr Brainpower here
is lucky to be alive.

Why did you send him? Were
you trying to get him killed?

He sent himself. We
tried to talk him out of it.

Yeah. Now I almost wish you had.

Jimmy, what is it?
Are you all right?

Last night, I traced her to a
little college in New Jersey.

It's the closest I've been
in a year of searching.

I saw her. I actually
laid my eyes on her.

I called to her,

but she ran.

Later on, I found out...

Guys, I think she
murdered somebody.

One down.

John Gillnitz? I'm Agent
Reyes, and this is Agent Doggett.

Is this the woman
you saw last night?

It was dark. It could have been
her. Do you have her in custody?

We're working on it.

What can you tell us about your friend?
Any reason why he may have been targeted?

Absolutely none. Douglas was a wonderful
teacher, and an even better researcher.

- What did he research?
- Elasmobranchii.

Sharks, rays and skates.

- He was a marine biologist?
- An immunologist.

Sharks have a
remarkable immune system.

Toxins that would kill any other
vertebrate pass right through them.

So he did medical research?

Douglas wanted
to save the world.

Cheer up, gomer. You're
bringing the whole room down.

This is a computer, Langly. Com-pu-ter.
Step away before you embarrass yourself.

- Always a pleasure, Kimmy.
- Yeah, yeah.

So, then, how do you wish to
partake of my hacking genius?

- Thanks to Jimmy, we know Yves' real name.
- I told you before he did.

Jimmy also told us what
kind of car she's driving.

A silver X5 with
New York plates.

Really? Way to go, special ed.

The New Jersey Turnpike
has cameras at every tollbooth.

- Langly spotted her southbound at Newark.
- Somewhat creative.

We spotted her again going through the
Fort McHenry Tunnel not 20 minutes ago.

We're betting she's headed for DC.
We'll try to intercept her, with your help.

Think you might
find a military satellite

to give us a bird's-eye
view of the Beltway?

Intriguing.

Stand aside, ladies.

- We'll be on the cell.
- I got shotgun.

Dream on. You're staying here.

We need somebody we can
trust keeping an eye on Fletcher.

I'm on it.

So how'd you like Malta?

The only thing I can say
for sure is what killed him.

He was injected with some
sort of tiny poison pellet.

But the wound in his
chest was postmortem.

- What is that?
- That's what I said.

My best guess is bioluminescence, but I'm
still waiting to hear back from our lab.

Bioluminescence? The stuff
that makes lightning bugs glow?

Lightning bugs, plankton, jellyfish. But
generally not dead college professors.

- So this stuff was put on postmortem?
- No.

As near as I can
tell, it bled out of him.

It gets weirder still.
When I opened him up,

I found adhesions that
indicate past surgery.

So I'm figuring I'll find he
had a bypass or a pacemaker.

Instead, I find... this.

- It looks like cartilage.
- It is.

It was living tissue grafted into
him. I have absolutely no idea why.

It held something.
Something that's now missing.

Could that be the purpose of
this wound? A little ad hoe surgery?

Maybe that was the very
purpose of the murder.

Whatever was inside
him, she removed it.

What the hell was inside him?

I have no clue. Seriously,
this is the first I'm hearing of it.

Weird organs?

You've never heard of the man?
Professor Douglas Houghton.

You're looking at me oddly.

Perhaps because you've
been known to lie on occasion.

I'm not lying now. I've said from the
start I didn't know what she was up to.

Damn it. Crashed again.

I cannot make magic with
substandard equipment.

- What's the problem?
- The problem is,

it's a freaking piece of junk.

I knew those guys were
broke, but this is pathetic.

The guys are broke?

Are you kidding?
Look around this dump.

They had to hock all their
stuff just to pay the rent.

- What about this?
- Their paper?

Deader than disco. They
haven't published in months.

So saving the world doesn't pay the
bills. There's a hot newsflash for you.

What chumps.

They were getting by till
you put 'em out of business.

And how exactly did I do that?

When you took Yves. They spent
every last dime trying to find her.

They're loyal to their
friends. Hilarious, huh?

- Reyes.
- You better get here quick.

- Where are you?
- The Hotel Farragut. Hurry.

- She'll kill him.
- Doggett and Reyes are coming.

By then it'll be too late.

Yves. Don't do it.

Lois?

Should I call you that?

I prefer Yves.

So we take it you're
not a super-soldier?

Super what?

Long story. Never mind.

Yves, you weren't seriously
going to smoke that guy, were you?

I know you three mean well,

but I can't begin to tell you how
badly you've mucked things up.

- So this guy just up and bolted?
- He hit her, and then he took off.

Nobody's seen him.
The room is registered

to Leonard Southhall
of Darien, Connecticut.

- It's an alias.
- It's a stolen ID.

The real Leonard Southhall died in
1996. You wanna tell me who that was?

His real name? I have no idea.

This is your bag, isn't it?

It's quite a party you
got planned for him.

Respirator.

Surgical gloves.

Scalpel.

Not to mention
this little item here.

You were planning to cut him
open, like you did the professor. Why?

Yves, it can't be
true. Tell them it's not.

It is, Jimmy. Time
is running short.

Unless you let me finish what I
started, innocent people will die.

- You wanna elaborate on that?
- First things first.

Who was it that
put you on to me?

OK, guys. So she's not a
super-soldier. I made an honest mistake.

As I suspected. It's
a tracking device.

I'm sure he meant to activate
it once he knew you had me.

You've been wearing that since Miami. You
were running a scam on us from the start.

Blowing up the boat, the girl as
your witness - you planned all that.

That and all the super-soldier
bull. All that was just to hook us.

So that you two
would, in turn, hook us.

And we'd track down Yves
for this slime ball all over again.

What can I tell ya? You three
always get the job done for me.

Who do you work for, Fletcher?

An international arms dealer, a
billionaire, and scum of the earth.

And he's also...

My father.

My father is a murderer
and a supporter of

terrorism. I hate
everything he stands for.

Yves, you're a murderer too.

The man I killed was
a terrorist, Jimmy.

A zealot whose research
was funded by my

father for its potential
as a weapons system.

Houghton was an
immunologist, researching sharks.

Yes. And he used his knowledge of their
immune system to devise a vessel of sorts

that kept him safe from an
engineered virus he carried within him.

He had tissue
implanted in his chest.

Cartilage. Shark cartilage. It
contained something which you removed.

This virus you
were talking about.

I destroyed it, but it
was only one of two.

The bald dude at the
hotel, the one that got away.

Think of him as a
human time bomb.

He can pass by any sniff dog, any metal
detector, and no one would ever suspect.

- What triggers this time bomb?
- Programmed cellular death,

genetically altered to a
high degree of precision.

The way the vessel is
decaying inside him is clock-like.

It will lose integrity and
rupture at eight o'clock tonight.

- Five hours from now?
- This virus,

once it's airborne its kill
radius is five or six miles.

Potentially it could kill
thousands. Tens of thousands.

Fletcher, I know you're a dirt bag, but
still, how could you be a party to this?

Fletcher's a con man, not a
killer. He didn't know about it.

Providing all this is true, how
do we track this man down?

- Kimmy, zoom in more. Zoom in.
- Back off, kibitzer. I'm doing it.

This is slower than Stumpy,
my one-legged granny.

- Where did you get this dinosaur turd?
- Stop bellyaching and work.

- Those things'll kill you.
- Yeah.

That's why I quit 20
years ago. You want one?

So you're too broke to publish?

Pencil neck told me.

It's a shame. This little
rag always was such a hoot.

I'm gonna miss it.

But, hey, the world
spins on, right?

Maybe saving it is a
younger man's game.

Or a woman's.

Maybe it is.

You gotta admit, Byers, it
hasn't exactly been our year.

And to top it all off, we screwed
the pooch pretty good today.

- Maybe we should pack it in.
- And do what instead?

We never gave up. We never will.

In the end, if that's the best
they can say about us, it'll do.

- I got him.
- It's my hack, Langly. I got him.

We got him, all right?

Our bad guy just rented a blue Corolla
under his alias Leonard Southhall.

- We picked him up on the satellite.
- Hauling north like a bat out of hell.

New Jersey Turnpike,
30 miles south of Newark.

I think I know
where he's headed.

- Long Gunman Newspaper Group, Byers.
- Byers, John Doggett.

Agent Doggett. Do you have him?

Yeah. We got him.

How much do you
trust this Yves Harlow,

Lois Runtz, whatever
name she's telling you?

Completely. Why?

Because the doctors here have run every
kind of imaging and come up snake eyes.

No virus, no cartilage
vessel in his chest, nothing.

- They found nothing.
- That doesn't make sense.

- They're absolutely certain?
- 100 per cent.

Agent Reyes and I are looking
like a couple of fools on this one.

There must be
something we missed.

All I can tell you is,
we got the wrong guy.

There must be a second man. I
know there is. It's Basic Terrorism 101.

Except we don't know
his name or his target.

And we've got one
hour to find him.

Good evening.

You're good.

All my information
pointed to that man.

He goes by an alias. He travelled
to Washington on this very day.

- Clearly he's involved somehow.
- He must be.

He made a beeline to that biology
department where the professor worked.

- Their base of operation.
- Yeah.

So if he is involved and yet
he doesn't have the virus...?

So how exactly does
he fit into their plan?

Three card moot y.

- You ever played it? You have now.
- What's that supposed to mean?

It means these guys have you running after
the ace when you should chase the queen.

Oh, my God.

Southhall is the
decoy. That's all he is.

They knew you were on their trail so
they gave you someone else to follow.

You said you didn't
know about terrorists.

I don't.

But I know scams. I wasn't a man
in black all those years for nothing.

They made you work
at finding Southhall,

which tells me the real guy
is hiding right out in the open.

A friend of the dead
professor. A co-worker, maybe.

The man who saw me through the professor's
window. The one who identified me.

Ladies and gentlemen, scientists, academic
leaders and government representatives.

Coming together is our goal this
evening, coming together as one.

Those words are easily spoken,

but guiding our missile into that
fugitive and imponderable target is harder.

- Sorry. Conference attendees only.
- We're reporters.

- What newspaper do you work for?
- The Lone Gunman.

- Never heard of it.
- We're legit.

- Show him your press pass.
- It's important we get in there.

- Buddy, come on.
- These expired last December.

- We've got five minutes.
- Listen.

We believe there's a
dangerous man in that room.

I need all of you to
step away right now.

Look, thousands
of people may die.

I got a situation by the
main conference room.

John Gillnitz.

Step back, sir.

I'm really sorry.

- Where'd he go?
- Split up. Four minutes left. Good luck.

Wait. What do we do with
this guy once we find him?

Hold him till I get
there. I'll do the rest.

You mean cut him open?

If that virus gets into the airstream,
we'll have failed. People will die.

Whatever it takes.

Three minutes and counting.

- Don't try to run.
- I don't have to.

- Yves. Jimmy. We've found him.
- Over here.

What do you plan to do? By my
watch, it's two minutes to eight.

- Not much time for surgery.
- Yves. Jimmy.

Now you have a minute 40.

Guys?

Whatever it takes.

[Byers. Frohike. Laugh].

Yves. Come here.

Guys.

Guys.

Oh, God. No.

Don't. Jimmy.

Jimmy, don't.

It's airtight.

They're already exposed.

No. Guys.

Buddy, fight the good fight.

Both of you.

Never give up.

Arlington. You must have pulled some
big strings to get those guys in here.

It's the least I could do.

Are we ready?

Yeah.

Dana?

I'll catch up.

They meant so much to me.

I'm not sure if they
ever really knew.

Nobody knew what
heroes they were.

It's not right.

It's not.

No, it's not.

Langly said to me "the ones
who never give up, they never die."

I still don't know
what that means.

It means, like everyone
buried here, the world

is a better place for
them having been in it.

It means that they're gone,
but they live on through us all.

Visiontext Subtitles:
Paul Murray.

ENGLISH