All language subtitles for Person Of Interest S03e01 Liberty

FINCH: You are being watched.

The government has a secret system,

a machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.

I designed The Machine
to detect acts of terror

but it sees everything,

violent crimes
involving ordinary people.

The government considers
these people irrelevant. We don't.

Hunted by the authorities,
we work in secret.

You'll never find us

but victim or perpetrator
if your number's up, we'll find you.

MAN: What are you doing tomorrow?

WOMAN: I'm serious.
We should do it again sometime.

Band was good,
conversation was good,

- You look fabulous.
- You're so sweet.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(WOMAN GASPS, SCREAMS)

(MAN SHOUTING IN SPANISH)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

Must be easy to get beautiful women
when you are a diplomat's son.

She'll live.

You, amigo,
you can blame your old man.

- Hey. (SPEAKING SPANISH)
- Huh?

If your father had been smart enough
to work with the cartel

you might have lived long
enough to kiss her good night.

- Hey!
- What?

(TEXTING)

- Who the hell are you?
- Tonight, hostage negotiator.

(TIRES SCREECHING)
(GUNFIRE)

- Raffi, come on.
- Man, you're crazy.

(POLICE SIREN WAILING)

Damn. You're welcome.

- They never say thank you.
- CARTER: Yeah, I wonder why.

Maybe if you figure out a way to save
them before all hell breaks loose.

Thanks, Carter.
You know, for what it's worth...

...you're looking kind of badass
in that uniform.

Yours is still the same
except the mask is new.

So where are all your friends?

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

MAN: Can I be honest?

I only asked you out
because you're drop-dead gorgeous.

But after sitting down,

really getting to know you
over dinner,

I realized I think you might be

the most fascinating woman
I've ever met.

Yeah, I bet you say that
to all the girls.

In fact, I know you do.

And after you get into their pants,
you get into their bank accounts

just like you did
with Paula Scarlatti.

Poor Paula was so heartbroken,
she told her mobbed-up old man.

He and his gangster pals just put
a big fat bounty on your head.

And can I be honest?

I only went outwith you
because of them.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Hey, what are you doing?
You're gonna get me killed.

What are you doing?

Here's the deal, Don.

You need to leave town,
change your name and get some game.

Start now.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

I appreciate you
resolving this situation, Ms. Shaw.

However, perhaps in the future,

you might try to complete
your assignments

without quite so much violence.

You see what she did?
I'm not a human shield.

No, he just got in the way.

That's it. I'm not working
with a lunatic. I'm out.

You know how to find me.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

REESE: Can't say we didn't already know,
Finch.

First time we met, Shaw shot me.

I realize that Ms. Shaw
is an effective asset

but I'm not sure I can work
with somebody

who refuses to carry a cell phone
off the job.

People out there are trying
to kill her, you know.

Some of the same people
that are trying to kill us.

Yes, Machine still seems
to be giving them numbers.

Whatever else it's up to is
almost too troubling to contemplate.

Meantime, our latest number,

petty officer second class
Jack Salazar, United States Navy.

- Petty officer or petty criminal?
- Bit of both, I'm afraid.

He assaulted a man during
a barroom brawl five years ago.

He all but put the guy in a coma.

The judge gave him a choice:
Jail or the military.

And Jack chose the Navy.

- So what's he doing here?
- Fleet Week.

(MEN SHOUTING)

The annual deluge of drunken sailors

that somehow does not qualify
as a military attack.

Come on, Finch, it's just a bunch
of crackerjacks blowing off steam.

Then it's back to the boat
by midnight.

I'm afraid countless sailors
in uniform

are going to complicate
our efforts to locate Mr. Salazar.

If Jack's like most sailors,
it's booze, broads

and a tattoo in that order.

I suppose you know the usual haunts.

Sure, it's two-for-one boilermakers
in Hell's Kitchen.

That sounds horrible.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

Whiskey.

- That's six bars down, Finch.
- Excellent. Only 1274 to go.

- Another round?
- Only if you're buying, Jack.

Wait a second.
Got eyes on our sailor, Finch.

So there I am, separated from
my team, deep in North Korea

with nothing but my buck knife
and my M9.

Am I leaving anything out, Jack?

Crocodiles, poisonous darts,
your sense of shame?

I'm getting to that.

Oh, my God.
What did you do?

Baby, that's a long story
and I'm only here until midnight,

so why don't we go someplace quiet
and I can tell you all about it?

- Ashley, let's go.
- I think the lady wants to stay.

- Screw you, jarhead.
- I'm not a jarhead, I'm a squid,

but a tube steak like you
doesn't get to call me either.

Leave it, RJ.

We're here to have a good time.
Nobody wants trouble.

Somebody call somebody "jarhead"?

Look, man, don't do this.
Let me buy you guys a round.

Yeah, I could use another.

- You're gonna need to pick that up.
- Or what, squid?

One of you split-tails
gonna do something about it?

Well, he's gonna have
to take a swing at you.

Then your knuckle-dragger
buddy over here is gonna jump me.

After I introduce his face
to the bar,

I'm gonna put this foot
upside of your jarhead.

Upon which all hell breaks loose.
And nobody wants that.

- REESE: I like this guy, Finch.
- Hm.

(GLASS CLINKS)

(GRUNTING)

Mr. Reese?
Everything all right?

Yeah, just shore leave, Finch.

Cops!
Let's get out of here!

Looks like I lost Jack.

Finch, how many squids are there
in the city right now?

Uh, approximately 6,000.
Why do you ask?

I think we're gonna need backup
just to find him.

All hands on deck.

ROOT: When I was a kid,

computers made more sense to me
than people.

FINCH: You said you wanted to set
The Machine free. I already did.

My name is Root.
Please talk to me.

(PHONE RINGS)

- THE MACHINE: Can you hear me?
- ROOT: Absolutely.

MAN: Robin, did you hear anything
I just said?

Okay.

Look, some of the patients
have complained

about you talking late into the night.

And since cell phones are strictly
forbidden and you have no roommate,

I can only conclude
that you're talking to yourself.

Is that correct?

- You wouldn't understand.
- Try me.

I have a direct line
to a higher power.

It speaks to me.

I see.

So, um, you're hearing voices.

What are those voices
telling you to do?

It's just the one voice really.

It wants me to stay here,
to work through some issues.

- And what issues would those be?
Methodology.

We're discussing
how I go about things.

You're not alone.

All these news about government
monitoring our digital lives,

recording texts, emails, phone calls.
Well, it's unsettling.

You know, it's easy to feel violated,
even paranoid.

Let me ask you this, do you have
feelings that you're being watched?

Every now and then.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

Any idea whether our sailor's
a victim or a perpetrator yet?

REESE: No, but he sure knows
how to handle himself in a fight.

What else we got on this guy?

He scored all fives on his evals
last year, highest marks.

Same on his physical readiness test.

The Navy may have bigger plans
for him.

His contract's up in six months.
He'll be free to go.

Can you find out
if he's taken any other tests?

- Academic or PST exams?
- I will.

Although it seems like getting into
a barroom brawl on shore leave

is not very prudent for someone
with further military aspirations.

Jack didn't start that fight
but he's willing to finish it.

I would've done the same thing.
His shore leave buddy was in trouble.

Robert Johnson Phillips,

petty officer third class
and ship storekeeper.

REESE: And first class troublemaker.
They're shipmates.

Which means that they'll have

to sign back into the ship together
after midnight.

It might help us to enlist another
asset with military experience

to help track down them down.

Just let me go.
I won't do it again, huh?

Caught this one flashing his junk
in the park again.

All excited about
the randy sailors in town.

Carter, what are you doing here?

Third time I caught this guy
in Hudson River Park

which makes me think
he might know something

about that homicide
you caught there yesterday.

I appreciate you looking out.

Look, I'm still a cop, Fusco.
How's your new partner?

Guy's a box of rocks.

This whole thing's a crock,

everybody knows you got hosed
on that shooting.

What, do they expect you to push
around a squad car the next ten years?

- Till I get my 20.
- You just now clocking out?

(CELL PHONE RINGS)

- Oh, our mutual friend.
- Looks like your day job just began.

Carter.

REESE: Checked every bar
in Hell's Kitchen

every tattoo parlour
on the west side.

Where the hell else
would a swabbie go?

To get some. He's a sailor.
Come here.

- Ma'am.
- Why are we stopping here?

I told you, this area is restricted.
Sailors aren't supposed to be here.

Well, when did the Navy
outlaw pastrami?

See that phone booth?
Just watch.

(COIN CLATTERING)

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING FROM WITHIN)

The mayor know about this place?

CARTER: If he did,
Vice would have to shut it down.

But then, half the NYPD
would have to find a new place

for bachelor parties.

How are you holding up, Carter?
You looking for a new job?

I'm a cop.
Always will be, John.

RJ: Jack, are you believing this place?

REESE: Just found our swabbie.

He's not getting away this time.
Excuse me.

Get you a drink, ma'am?

Only if you stop calling me ma'am.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)

Shot of bourbon.

Looking for company, sailor?

You got the cash,
I got the open window.

Appreciate the opportunity but I was
kind of looking for the real thing.

(BEEPING)

I got the cash, darling,
and a rapidly closing window?

Easy there, killer.

That ought to cover her and the room.
Try not to get rolled.

Hey, thanks, Jack.
Oh, you should take these too?

- Cigars?
- Not just cigars, Cubans.

The admiral needed a few cases
shipped off the boat,

so I taxed him a few.

No big deal.
We'll celebrate tomorrow.

Always skimming something, RJ.

Don't get your hand caught
in the cookie jar.

Meet back in an hour.
Can you do that?

Look at her.
I'll be back in 30.

Mm-mm-mm!

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

(VOICEMAIL) Hey, it's RJ.
You know the drill.

RJ, where the hell are you?

We've got less than an hour to get
our ass back on the ship. Call me.

Jack lost his shore leave buddy.
Can't check back in without him.

Hey, squid.

- Remember me?
- Yeah, from the ship.

Is there a problem?

Yeah, you know what the problem is.
You have it, we want it back.

Honestly, I don't know
what you're talking about, man.

Much bigger problem, Finch.

Some devil dog's
got a bone to pick with Jack.

Devil dogs?

Yeah, Spec Ops,
Force Recon Marines.

Team of four, maybe five.
Just sealed off the block.

If I go straight in, Jack'll be dead
before I even get to him.

Don't screw with us.
We screw with you. Empty your pockets.

Look, man,
I don't really have time for this.

I gotta get my shipmate,
and I gotta get...

(GRUNTING)

They're stealing a car.
It's an extraction.

- I gotta get him out.
- Please be careful, Mr. Reese.

(MEN GRUNTING)

(GROANING)

Feel that?
That's your rib cracking.

I jam it two inches further,
I'm gonna puncture your lung.

Where is it?

I don't know what you're
talking about, man.

Get him and his buddy to a room.
We'll sort them out.

Hey! What the hell?
Who is that?

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

REESE: Finch, our sailor took fire.
Gonna need some help.

SHAW: Let's get this bullet out
before the squid wakes up.

Could shoot you or save you.
Frankly, I could go either way.

- Easy, Salazar. We're the good guys.
- Oh, I knew this was a bad idea.

Who are you people?
Where am I?

You have a bullet lodged
in your shoulder, Mr. Salazar.

A gift from a very angry group
of Force Recon devil dogs

whom I can only assume
live up to their name.

Now, Ms. Shaw has medical experience,

so you can
either let her retrieve the bullet

or we can continue to discuss
the matter until you contract sepsis.

- Sure you know what you're doing?
- I've been shot. A lot.

You wanna tell us why a squad
of elite killers is after you?

Don't know.

Guys were in Somalia doing
God knows what, fighting rebels.

Leader had a war trophy
he wanted to bring back, AK-47.

I stashed it in a crate
of spent brass.

So you helped them smuggle
an illegal weapon through US Customs?

It happens all the time.

My buddy RJ unloaded the crate,
said he gave back the rifle.

It doesn't add up. Why would
they try to kill him over a weapon?

It's not the weapon, Ms. Shaw.
It's what was hidden inside it.

Somali pirates attacked
a deep-sea mining vessel

off the coast of Africa.

- Your Marine friends intervened.
- What kind of mining?

(CELL PHONE RINGS)

Oh...

Speaker.

MAN: Hey, bagger, you forgot
it's the buddy system?

We got your buddy.

RJ: Sorry, Jack, I screwed up.
Look, I taxed them.

It was just a few.
I didn't think they'd miss them!

Miss what?
What're you talking about?

RJ: Check the Cubans.

Uncut stones.
The ship was mining diamonds.

MAN: You wanna see
your buddy alive, Jack,

bring the rocks to the Babcock,
Room 212. Come alone.

We really haven't talked about
your family or friends, Robin.

Your uncle, Harold, is it?
Who arranged your admission.

Are you close with him?

(CHUCKLES)

That's a complicated question,
Doctor.

I wouldn't wanna be anything less
than totally forthcoming

so maybe we should try
another subject.

Okay.

You say that you don't wanna be
anything less than forthcoming.

And yet, you're lying to me.

On the contrary,
I've been completely honest.

Please, excuse me.

Well, maybe not completely.

I thought I lost this
and it turns out it was stolen.

I'm sorry, Doctor,
but it's important we be in contact.

We're in the middle
of a disagreement.

A disagreement with the voice?

Mm.

I want you to know
that I support you unconditionally.

Now, I know you believe
you need a phone

and I am here to tell you
that you don't.

I believe that by separating you
from it

and from all other
forms of technology,

it's really the best course
of action.

So it's time to unplug.
Some assistance, please.

Please. Don't do this.

It's not good for us to be separated.

I hope you realize
I'm trying to help you.

Escort our patient
to solitary confinement.

No contact with anything electronic.
You'll thank me someday.

For a psychiatrist, you're really
a terrible judge of character.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

- JACK: What are we doing here?
- REESE: Recon.

- The exchange goes down there in ten.
- That's it.

Spec Ops will have a sniper.
That's where I'd be.

You got any cash?

(MAN SPEAKING SPANISH)

- Don't know how I wound up here.
- I do.

Same reason you got into a fight
with those jarheads.

You stand up for people
you care about.

- Lot of good it's done me, huh?
- We'll see.

- You can't be something you're not.
- Yeah? And who am I?

You're a good guy, Jack.
You just haven't figured it out yet.

Gracias.

What, you need help finding
a trash can?

You're a smart guy,
you'll figure out what to do with it.

Give me three minutes.

(GRUNTS)

(SHAW WHISTLES)

Old leatherneck has a nice weapon.
Oh, this is gonna be fun.

Just remember.
No shots to centre mass.

But it's a shame to waste a rifle
like this on kneecaps.

No sentry. Something's up.
You got eyes on the room?

- Who's there?
- SHAW: Looks vacated.

For good reason,
poor guy's rigged up to go boom.

Don't.
Can't risk setting him off.

Your friend's sitting on an IED.

(GRUNTS)

Look, I'm sorry I got you into this,
Jack.

But if you can get me out of here,
I swear I'll cop to everything.

Take it easy.
You're gonna be okay.

I wouldn't say that.
We told you to come alone.

You brought the suit,
so now he's a guest at our party.

He tries to leave,
we hit a button, RJ explodes.

You try to move RJ, he explodes.
You understand me, squid?

- I get the gist.
- Destroy your phone.

There's a cab on the curb

that'll take you to the next location,
alone.

You walk out that door, Jack,
you won't come back.

R.J's my friend.
You said it yourself.

I can't be something I'm not.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

Harold, the exchange
went pear-shaped.

Yes, I heard.
Can you follow Mr. Salazar?

Not an option. He's long gone.

Never even got to take this baby out
for a test drive.

Well, the Marines will have
to fence the uncut diamonds.

Locate the fence,
odds are we can locate Jack.

- Where to now?
- I have another resource on that.

Well, suit yourself.
(MAN GRUNTS)

(LINE RINGING)

- CARTER: Yeah?
- How's your contacts in Robbery?

Not yet.
Don't worry, I got a source.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

What happened to time off
for good behavior?

That assumes you've been good.

We had a deal,
you keep a low profile.

Why else would I be enjoying
my barolo in a basement?

Your man's been seen
in Crown Heights, Russian territory.

It's all Russian territory now.

Give us a moment, alone.

Thank you for helping my boss.

What do you know,
you've made a friend.

Speaking of, I can't help but notice

that I haven't received
a visit from Harold or John.

Haven't told them yet, have you?

Afraid they'd object
to our little deal?

There's no deal, okay?
I had no choice.

If I'd put you back in prison,

someone, cops or the Russians,
would've killed you sooner or later.

I need a name.

Someone with the means to fence
large quantities of uncut diamonds.

Well, if someone is interested
in such a transaction,

they'd have to connect
with a mobile fence,

and I can think of an unscrupulous
Russian by the name of Maksim,

presently operating out of
a pawn shop in the Flatiron District.

Careful, this is dangerous business,
Detective.

It's "Officer" now.

Such a shame.
I hate seeing talent go to waste.

I could take care of HR
and the Russians. Permanently.

Enjoy the rest of your barolo.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

How's it going, Finch?

I've intercepted the signal
at the cell tower.

I'm creating a loop to send back
down the line to the team leader.

It'll appear to him
as if you never left the room.

All done.
You can leave, Mr. Reese.

I suggest you do so in a hurry.
I've sent reinforcements.

Who?

Oh...

Never a dull moment with you guys.

Here, Carter came through.

Address for the fence
in the Flatiron District.

You ready? These Ruskies are ruthless
and packing serious heat.

It sounds like a job for Shaw.

Besides, someone needs
to defuse that bomb. Hop to, Lionel.

What? Nobody said anything
about defusing a bomb.

Be careful, it's got a failsafe.

If you try to cut the power source,
it'll blow, so dig out the igniter.

The what?

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

(CELL PHONE RINGS)

(RINGING)

I got your rocks.
You afraid to come out and play?

You still think you're in charge of
this little operation, swab-jockey?

Don't know.
I got your whole stash.

Yeah, well, I got a little
insurance policy. Your buddy RJ.

- There's a pawn shop at 23rd and Lex.
- What about it?

You're gonna play
"let's make a deal" with our fence.

You bring him the diamonds
and you bring us the cash.

He tries to pull a fast one,
you end up in a body bag.

Time's ticking, Petty Officer.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

How long
before the devil dog realizes

your friend switched the video?

Long enough.
Let's hope.

You're in the Navy.
Know anything about igniters?

Man, I'm a glorified shopkeeper.
I inventory supplies.

Don't worry, I'm a cop.

- Bomb Squad?
- Homicide.

(BELL JINGLES)

You have something for me?

You're not the one
who I talked to on the phone.

- You a tourist?
- Guess you could say that.

Then you get tourist rate.
Thirty cents on the dollar.

Wait, you don't understand
who you're screwing with.

Who? A man with no gun,
no backup?

Maybe we keep our money
and your diamonds.

We don't renegotiate.

Another fine Navy day.
You must be Maksim.

You said 50 cents on the dollar.

That was before I saw
the merchandise.

You failed to mention
it's from Africa.

Unfortunately for you,
I have read all about the pirates

and the Marine heroes
who took them down.

Took big risk coming meeting you.

Risk goes up, price goes down.

I give you 1.2.

How much for me to not put
a bullet in your brain?

Put your weapon down!

(ALL SHOUTING)

(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
(BELL JINGLES)

I'm sorry, are you guys closed?

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

It's a bit tense in here.

- Can I make a suggestion?
- What the hell are you doing here?

- Who is this? Cop?
- Concerned third party.

I've got no stake in this

except for helping my friend Jack
out of here

with the same number of holes
he had in him when he came in.

What's your point?

Forty cents on the dollar?

Hey, Reese, no offense.

If the vigilante thing
doesn't work out,

I'm not really seeing a future
for you in conflict resolution.

The suit here just got
your buddy killed.

- Detective, get out, now!
- There's no time.

Good bye.

(EXHALES)

Told you I got it covered.

I suggest you keep your mouth shut.

And you give us what you agreed to
or we kill you.

You think you're pretty tough, no?
US Devil Dogs.

Run around, kill Iraqis,
kill Afghans, Somalis.

You know who you don't kill?
Russians.

SHAW: Reese, why are the Russians
backing up?

MAN: You know what? I enlisted in
the Marines to kill Russians.

Looks like I'm gonna get
my chance.

SHAW: Wait a minute.

Looks like the Russians brought
some friends to the party.

Multiple shooters above you, Reese.

Get clear, now.

(GUNFIRE)

You gonna ambush somebody,
use a muzzle suppressor.

Losers.

Shaw, a little help here?

I would have taken the head shot

but Finch gets annoyed
when I kill people.

In the arm, through a brick wall,
in the dark. You're welcome.

(MAN GRUNTS)

Oops.

- You wanna get out of here?
- Yeah, I think so.

Time to get your friend back
to the ship

before he turns into a pumpkin.

You're pretty handy with that thing.

I'm hungry.
You're buying me a steak.

♪ (WOMAN SINGING BLUES) ♪

(WHISTLING)

(CELL PHONE RINGS)

Heard about the shoot-out
in the Flatiron District.

Lot of damage, John.
You get your man out alive?

With a little help.

Listen, Carter...
You doing okay?

It's been a while
since we sat down and talked.

I'm fine, John, you know,
just getting on with my job.

You know if you ever needed help,
you just need to call me, right?

I know. Thanks.

(SIGHS)

- Celebrating or commiserating?
- Both.

RJ took the rap for everything.

Captain gave me
a desk-drawer reprimand

and two days swabbing the deck.

I got an hour left of liberty
before I gotta get back on the ship.

So, what's the plan now?

Captain thinks I could make it
through BUD/S, become a SEAL,

but after what happened,

I'm not too sure about
the military anymore.

Thought maybe there was a chance
for a normal life after my tour's up.

Like those two.

Well, the military's full of good
and bad

just like the rest of the world.

A guy like you could do
a lot of good.

I was forced to join in
the first place.

What, you think you're the first kid
to have to stand in front of a judge

and pick door number two?

Turns out, I was good at it.
Maybe even made for it.

And so are you.

With your talent,
it probably won't be long

before the CIA comes knocking.

- So what should I do?
- That's up to you.

But in a few years, when the guys
from Langley show up...

...say no.

I'd like to buy the happy couple
two glasses of champagne.

Thanks.
For everything.

FINCH: Nicely done, Mr. Reese.

I realize now I never did hear
how you came to enlist in the Army.

Because I never told you, Finch.
I'm a very private person.

Well, one more thing
set right in the universe.

- You should look happier, Harold.
- I am.

It's just I have a feeling things
are about to get more complicated.

Then you might as well enjoy
your first boilermaker.

I thought it would be good for us
to resume our dialogue.

I know you'd rather be talking
to the voice

but you're gonna have to settle
for talking to me.

What do you wanna talk about?

I'd like to talk about
something real, Robin.

I know you're very smart.

I'd love to know
what you're really thinking.

So why don't we start
with the truth?

The truth?

The truth is a vast thing.

I see that now,
just how much truth there is.

Where would we even begin?

The truth is you are not very smart.

In fact, you're only the 43rd
smartest person in this building.

Forty-third?

Okay, did your voice tell you that?

That's based on what?

Every standardized test
you ever took averaged together,

not including your medical boards
which you cheated on.

The truth is you smoke an average
of nine cigarettes a week

in the parking lot
when you think no one's looking.

The truth is that you visit a massage
parlour once or twice a month,

that you pay for it with crisp
100 dollar bills

that you get out of the cash machine
at the 7-Eleven across the street.

The truth is that you fantasize
on online forums

about having sex
with some of your patients,

though not me, yet.
I guess I'm not your type.

The truth is, God is 11 years old,

that she was born on New Year's Day,
2002, in Manhattan.

The truth is that she's chosen me...

...and I don't know why yet,

but for the first time in my life...

...I'm a little scared about
what's gonna happen.

The truth is, I'm stuck here for now,

and the only dialogue you need to be
worried about is between me and her,

which is why you might wanna
give me my phone back.

Because I'm having an argument.

Would you like to know the truth,
Doctor?

About what we're arguing over?

Whether or not I'm gonna kill you.

(ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

(English US - SDH)