All language subtitles for JAG.S04E14.Webb.Of.Lies.DVDRip.XviD-SAiNTS-eng

Hey, it's Harm.
I can't take your call right now,

but if you leave your name
and number, I'll get right back to you.

Rabb. It's Webb.

If you're there, pick up. I need
to talk to you, it's an emergency.

Hey, he said it's an emergency.

It's always an emergency
with Webb.

Rabb, I know you're there. Pick up.

Rabb.
Come on, come on, come on.

- Yes?
- Rabb.

Shut the engine off.

Well, you're obviously
not the cleaning lady.

I'm Agent Candella
from the Central Intelligence Agency.

That gives you the right to break in
to my apartment?

You're a friend of Clayton Webb's?

Webb and I have worked together
from time to time.

We're having difficulty
locating Mr. Webb.

Well, I can assure you
he's not in my apartment.

His phone records indicate
he made a phone call to you

at approximately 10:50 last night.

- You monitor his phone?
- I told you, we're having difficulty--

Locating him. Yeah, you said that.

What did you two talk about
last night?

Nothing. He left a message
asking me to call him.

Excuse me.

Candella.

No, nothing. I'll be there.

If you hear from Webb,
please give me a call.

You have a nice place here,
commander. I'm sorry for the intrusion.

They're here.

- Well, aren't you gonna open it?
- I can't.

Don't you wanna see
how well you did?

- Yeah. I just can't do it right now.
- I can do it.

No. You can't do it either.

- Why not?
- Because--

Because Major MacKenzie

- always reads me my grades.
- What?

I'm usually so nervous
about getting my marks

that she does it for me
and they always turn out great.

And it's kind of like
she brings me good luck.

- The major's your good-luck charm.
- Yeah.

Well, what am I? Unlucky?

A curse? Some bad mojo?

- Harriet.
- Forget it.

- Good morning, sir.
- Morning, sir.

Morning. Hey.

When was the last time
you saw Webb?

In Iran, when he briefed us
about the stealth aircraft. Why?

The CIA was in my apartment
this morning looking for him.

- He's missing.
- You think he's in trouble?

No, I'm sure it's nothing.
You know Webb.

- Yeah.
- Thanks.

You wanted to see us, sir?

Please, have a seat.

About an hour ago,
Clayton Webb's body was found

on a freighter
in the Baltimore shipyards.

The CIA notified me of Webb's death
only because of our past relationship.

And before you start asking me
any other questions, that's all I know.

You do want to know more,
though, sir, don't you?

Commander, I wanna know
where to send flowers to his mother.

I wanna know
where the funeral's gonna be held.

- Sir--
- And I wanna know

who the hell killed him.

Someone said there was
a hunky-Iooking commander

- in my office.
- Where?

Hey, what's wrong?

I need you to get me
into the morgue.

The morgue? Please tell me
this is not a fantasy of yours.

A friend of mine
was killed last night.

- I'm sorry. Who was it?
- Clayton Webb.

The man who called you last night?

There were three bodies brought in
over the last 24 hours.

Clayton Webb was one of them.

His body was badly burned and had
to be identified from dental records.

The other two bodies
were found on the ship with him.

One was ID'd,
the other's still a John Doe.

Can you get me the autopsies?

Are you gonna tell me
what this is all about?

I would if I knew, Jordi.

At approximately 0400 Zulu
this morning,

there was an explosion
aboard the Kamiko Maru,

a Japanese freighter out of Nagoya.

The cause of the explosion
is still under investigation

and the names of the victims are being
withheld until notification of next of kin.

But we do know
that Mr. Webb was one of them.

I have a hit on the other names, sir.

Shohei Wakita,
a computer specialist out of Osaka.

Taught for a while at MIT.

I was able to pull an article he wrote
off the Internet.

Take a look at the top
of Page 2 here.

"While doing research at
the Bradenhurst Corporation--"

The Bradenhurst Corporation.
If Wakita worked for Bradenhurst,

that means
Defence Security Division's involved.

- We dismantled the DSD, sir.
- Yeah, that's right, and in doing so

left a bunch of unemployed intelligence
agents scrambling to find work.

Bud, we need a flight
to Fort Leavenworth.

I'm on it, sir.

If anybody can tell us
what's going on,

it's Clark Palmer.

Who are you?

Clark Palmer. Who are you?

No prisoner has ever escaped
from Leavenworth.

- Then where is he, colonel?
- You were just with him, commander.

That man is not Clark Palmer.
I know.

He's tried to kill me twice.
This is Clark Palmer, sir.

Well, according to our records,
the man you just met

is Clark Palmer.

DSD must have made the switch
after the trial.

The real Clark Palmer probably
never set foot in this prison, Harm.

Which means he's been on the streets
for almost a year.

I still can't believe
that Clayton's dead.

I mean,
I know that he had some faults.

He pulled some stunts, but--

Hell, he almost got us killed
on more than one occasion.

In spite of everything
that he put us through,

there was just something
always kind of loveable about Clayton.

Well, apparently not everybody
shared our sentiment.

Maybe Webb got caught up
in some sort of intelligence war

and Palmer murdered him.

When Palmer took me hostage,

he kept bragging
about being a forensic artist.

The way Webb was killed
is too sloppy for Palmer.

I know the way he thinks.

Don't get inside Palmer's head, Harm.
It's not some place you wanna be.

- It may be the only way to find him.
- Unless he finds you first.

Webb was not the only one
that Palmer had a grudge against.

- I'm not afraid of Palmer, Mac.
- Well, I am for you.

I hope he does come after me.

That will make finding him
a whole lot easier.

You're holding something out on me,
aren't you?

Rabb. It's Webb.

If you're there, pick up. I need
to talk to you, it's an emergency.

Come on, come on, come on.

Rabb, I know you're there. Pick up.

- Rabb.
- Yes? Webb?

I didn't wanna pick it up. I figured--

I figured he was trying to involve me
in another one of his spook operations.

When I finally did answer,
he was gone.

- You had no way of knowing.
- I know that. I still feel guilty.

The guy reached out to me.
I let him down.

Palmer's out there. Somewhere.

I can feel him.

Does Clayton Webb
know about this?

Webb? No.

Mr. Webb is very careful
not to get his hands dirty.

That's why the company has wet boys
like you, huh?

Wet boys? You've been reading
too many spy novels.

That's what they call assassins
these days, isn't it?

I prefer to think of myself
as a forensic artist.

I mean, any psycho
can walk up to some poor soul,

put a gun to the base of his skull
and blow his brains out his forehead.

But it takes true artistry

to have that same guy
choke on a hot dog

at a baseball game
in front of 15,000 people,

or suffer a stroke on the dance floor
at his daughter's wedding.

He's like a disease.

You know
that sick, eerie feeling you get

just before
the flu attacks your body.

Harm, I'm staying here tonight.

Mac, I'm a big boy. I don't need
to be protected. But thank you.

Besides, if Palmer wanted me dead,
he's been out almost a year.

He would've made a move
by now, right?

Yeah, I know.
But it would make me feel better.

I'll sleep on the couch
and I promise I won't snore, okay?

I just can't believe he's dead.

Well, you didn't really like him
anyway.

No, that's just it. I didn't.
But now that he's dead...

Yeah. Now you only see the good.
That's natural.

I'm just beginning to realise
what a really decent man he was.

He was very dedicated to his job,

he made tough decisions
without emotion.

It's beginning to make me think
my superstitions

about opening my grades
are really silly.

Here.

No.

- No?
- No.

I mean, I'm sure you did great.

But what if by some fluke
you messed up?

And then I open the letter and forever
I'm your bad luck charm, so no.

You know, I think this good-luck
bad-luck thing is really stupid.

I have a beautiful wife.
I have a great career.

I'm gonna be a father.

I'm the luckiest guy in the world.
Please?

Okay.

You were third in your class.

- Really?
- Yes.

I'm so proud of you.

Hey. He kicked me.

No, he didn't.
He gave his daddy a high-five.

- Mac?
- I'm sorry.

I thought I heard something outside,
but it was nothing.

Go back to sleep.

Is it always this cold in here?

You want me to turn the heat up?

Yeah, maybe a little.

You know, Mac,
you really should go home

and get a decent night's sleep.
I'm gonna be all right.

I wouldn't sleep
even if I was at home.

I rarely do.

You wanna talk about it?

All right.

I expected there to be death
when I joined the Marines.

Not when I joined JAG. Not like this.

It's like everyone around me
keeps dying.

Hey.
You had nothing to do with this.

No?

Dalton would still be alive
if he hadn't been involved with me.

My ex-husband wouldn't have died
if he hadn't come back to see me.

You don't know that. Okay?

And you certainly had nothing to do
with Clayton's death.

Look at me.
I'm crying like a big baby.

No wonder
they don't want women in combat.

Hey, men cry in combat all the time.
They just don't admit it.

Go on. Go back to bed.

I'm supposed to be here
watching out for you, remember?

Oh, yeah. I forgot.

- Good night, Ninja Girl.
- Good night.

Would you mind if I stripped it down?

What did you say?

Your pistol.

Can I clean it for you?
It would give me something to do.

- Can you do it quietly?
- Yeah.

Okay.

- Morning, sir.
- Morning.

- Hey.
- Hi.

I have something for you.

The judge dismissed your DUI charge
without prejudice,

- due to extenuating circumstances.
- Thank you.

- Try to contain your enthusiasm.
- I'm sorry.

I have copies
of the autopsy reports you asked for.

What was the cause of death?

The two Japanese nationals
were killed

by multiple 9mm gunshot wounds,
most likely from an automatic.

- And Webb?
- The same.

However, he was also severely burned
from the explosion and ensuing fire.

I'm sorry.

- Good morning.
- Morning.

Am I interrupting?

Webb's autopsy report.

I have to get back to work.
I'll call you tonight?

- Yeah. Okay.
- Bye.

It seems like
she takes good care of you.

You both do.

How you doing?

Hey, Hendricks.

Agent King,
I have those photographs for you.

This is Agent Clark.

CIA Headquarters, Agent Bixby.

Hey.

- Who are you?
- I'm Ray.

Ray. Where's Howard?

Oh, didn't you hear?
He was in a car accident.

Oh, is he okay?

Well, actually I heard he got hurt
pretty bad.

What were you doing
to my computer?

Nothing, ma'am.
Just doing my dusting.

- What's in the rag?
- I'm sorry?

Your rag.
I saw you put something in it.

Open the rag now.

You really shouldn't
keep food in your desk, ma'am.

- It attracts them.
- I don't.

- Well, get rid of it.
- Yes, ma'am.

According to this autopsy report, sir,

one of the men killed
aboard the freighter

was a Japanese scientist with links
to the Bradenhurst Corporation.

If Bradenhurst Corporation
is involved,

Defence Security Division
is involved, sir.

DSD was dismantled.

Try telling that
to Special Agent Clark Palmer, sir.

I tried to contact Palmer
at Leavenworth,

thinking he may know
who killed Webb. He wasn't there.

What do you mean, he wasn't there?
Where the hell is he?

I have no idea, sir.

DSD must have made the switch with
Palmer before he got to Leavenworth.

This man is in there,
posing as Palmer, serving his time.

There's a rumour of a mole
within the CIA

feeding information
to former DSD agents.

Webb must have found the mole.

Actually, there's speculation
that Webb is the mole.

That is ludicrous, sir.
I would stake my life on it.

If Palmer's free,
that's exactly what you're doing.

Sir, Webb may not have always been
aboveboard with us.

But he always came through
in the end.

I owe him as much.

Sorry. Did you know
that Mr. Webb was a musician?

No. I didn't know he competed
at the '88 Olympics either.

- Get out of here. Doing what?
- Modern pentathlon.

Even though he's gone,
he's still full of surprises.

I'll say.

Commander Rabb. Who's Robin?

- Roberts, sir.
- What are you doing here, Candella?

I'm heading up
an official CIA investigation.

The question is,
what are you two doing here?

- Watering the plants.
- Feeding the fish.

As a lawyer, I suspect
you're somewhat of a student

on human behaviour, commander.

You can tell when a person is lying
or concealing the truth

from their speech patterns,
their body language,

- the very way that they look at you.
- Yes, I can.

Good.

Because right now
you're acting like a man

who knows something
he is not telling me.

I read the autopsy report.

I know that one of the bodies
found with Webb aboard the freighter

was a Japanese scientist working
for the Bradenhurst Corporation.

I also know that you're using us
like pointers on a bird hunt.

It's time to let us in, Candella.

When the government decided to shut
down the Defence Security Division,

a lot of operatives got the axe.

Most of them were transferred
into other departments.

But a few of them wound up
going into business for themselves

- in the private sector.
- Intelligence beltway bandits.

- Knowledge is power, power is money.
- Big money.

The CIA and these rogue DSD agents
have been fighting over everything

from intel on Saddam

to the latest technology
in stealth missiles.

Which is why these rogue DSD agents
have a mole in the CIA.

That's an unsubstantiated rumour.

Unfortunately, the circumstances
of Webb's death

add fuel to the rumour.

There are those in the company
that believe Webb was the mole.

- Mr. Webb was not a mole.
- I believe that.

But my superiors wanna know
what he was doing on that ship.

That was not a CIA operation.

The director believes
that Webb was working for the DSD.

Never happened.

You wanna know who killed Webb,
find Agent Palmer.

- Clark Palmer? He's in Leavenworth.
- No, he isn't.

But why do I think
you already knew that, Candella?

I swear to you I didn't.

But I'm gonna find out
if somebody above me did.

- Sir, you don't think--?
- Let's feed the fish, Bud.

Yes, sir.

Spook you?

- What the hell are you doing here?
- I've got a better question.

What the hell are you doing
talking to Lt. Cmdr. Harmon Rabb?

Webb called him
right before he died.

And he knows
you're not in Leavenworth.

Well, now we got us a game.

- He thinks you killed Webb.
- He should know better.

That sloppy piece of work on that ship
was your mess, not mine.

Well, some of us don't have the taste
for this sort of thing like you do.

What were you doing in my office?
Somebody could've recognised you.

I was accessing
the CIA's computer system.

You know, that superconductor
was never recovered.

- You lied to me.
- You'll get it as soon as we find it.

- And if you don't?
- Then we both lose a lot of money.

I don't like losing.

What are you gonna do, Palmer?
Kill me?

I already did.

Didn't anyone ever tell you
these things will kill you?

Dug up some more on Shohei Wakita
from Interpol, commander.

He was part of a team working on
a room-temperature superconductor

that was stolen from a laboratory
in Osaka several months ago.

They think he stole it?

He disappeared with the prototype.

Apparently, Wakita wasn't aware
that the Defence Security Division

was funding his research
at Bradenhurst.

As soon as he found out,
he split with the superconductor.

So Webb was trying to bring in Wakita
and the prototype.

So, what makes this superconductor
worth killing for?

A room temperature superconductor
is the Holy Grail of microprocessing.

If Wakita had perfected
such a device,

it would bring about a quantum leap
in computer speed.

It would be as if everyone in the world
were using Commodore 64s

and you were using
a Cray supercomputer.

The technology would be worth
gazillions of dollars.

The military applications--

You'd have something faster,
smarter and deadlier

than anything anybody else had.

Exactly the sort of thing
Palmer would kill to get his hands on.

Yes, sir.

Come in.

Mrs. Webb's been informed
of your presence.

She'll be with you momentarily.

- Ma'am.
- Commander Rabb.

I'm sorry to bother you, Mrs. Webb.
I'd like to offer my condolences.

Thank you.

I know that this is
a difficult time, ma'am.

- But Clayton was a friend of mine.
- Clayton didn't have many friends.

Even as a child, he was a Ioner.

- Would you like to come inside?
- Thank you.

Mrs. Webb, when was the last time
you saw Clayton?

We went riding on Sunday.
We do every weekend.

Did he seem troubled to you,
ma'am?

No.

Did he mention
what he was working on?

- Please sit down.
- Thank you.

Clayton would consider
such conversation in very poor taste.

Of course he would, ma'am.
I apologise for mentioning it.

Nonsense, commander.
You're trying to find

who in the intelligence community
killed him.

Commander, I met Clayton's father,
Neville, in the late '50s

while I was working
at Arlington Hall.

Neville was distinguished
and mysterious.

Clayton is the spitting image of him.

Neville was with the National Security
Agency at the time.

And I was breaking Russian codes
as part of Project VENONA.

It was all very exciting.

I had hoped that Clayton
might become a doctor or a teacher.

I would even have been happy
had he become a lawyer.

But he didn't.

Instead he decided to follow
in the family business, as it were.

You see, commander,
the Webbs have always been--

Intelligence agents.

Such work has its risks.

But then so does commuting
on the beltway.

For men like my husband
and my son,

there is no greater honour
than giving one's life for one's country.

Excuse me.
You have a phone call, Mrs. Webb.

- Please take a message.
- It's from Lt. Abby Cowen, ma'am.

Thank you. I'll be right there.
I'm afraid I must excuse myself.

I appreciate your coming here.
This is a difficult time for me.

But I find solace in knowing
that my son has such a good friend

hunting for his killer.

- Goodbye, commander.
- Ma'am.

I'll show myself out.

Unit 46. Dispatch.
Go ahead and verify ETA.

Four-six.
ETA probably about 15 minutes.

Well, I just ran her name
through the military database.

Lt. Abby Cowen is not in the Navy,
Army, Air Force, or Marines, sir.

- What about the Coast Guard?
- You're back.

Yeah.
I went and saw Webb's mother.

- How is she?
- Resilient.

While I was there,
she took a call from a Lt. Abby Cowen.

- Who's that?
- I'm trying to find that out now.

You know that Webb's father
worked for NSA

and his mother
broke Russian code?

I thought they were
old-money types.

Well, I guess code breaking
runs in the family.

- Why do you say that?
- Well, after Harvard,

Webb did some postgraduate work
at the National Cryptographic School.

Did Webb ever work for NSA?

Fourteen months, to be exact.

Did he go to the State Department
after that?

Well, sort of. I have him joining
the State Department in '92,

which leaves
four years unaccounted for.

Supposedly,
he was travelling around the world.

Yeah, right, working for the CIA.

Abby Cowen
could be a man's name.

It wouldn't affect the search, sir.

Harm?

Try local law enforcement.
Baltimore Homicide Department.

- Yeah?
- I think you might wanna see this.

I think I found Lt. Cowen.

Lt. Abby Cowen

is an anagram.

For Clayton Webb.

Webb is alive.

This is Lt. Roberts of the
Judge Advocate General's office

calling for Agent Paul Candella.

Yes, I'll hold.

Why would Webb
go to these extremes

to make people think he's dead?

Easier to move around
if everyone thinks you're dead.

The safest way
to recover that superconductor.

Excuse me?

When?

I'm sorry. Thank you.

Agent Candella's dead.

Palmer?

We'd better bring the admiral
up to speed.

Mac, you wanna check
if he can see us?

Yeah.

Where are you going, sir?

- To find Webb.
- Alone?

Sir, Major MacKenzie is gonna
wanna go with you and so do I.

She's safer here and so are you.

- But what about Palmer?
- Palmer is my problem, Bud.

Commander, I really don't think
that this is a good idea.

Stand down, lieutenant.
That's an order.

- Hey, where's Harm?
- He left, ma'am.

What do you mean, he left?
Where did he go?

He went to find Webb.
I wanted to go with him.

- He ordered me to stay here.
- Well, why didn't he wait for me?

Because he cares about you
very much.

That's why he went alone.

Rabb.

- What are you doing here?
- Looking for you.

How did you know I was alive?

Well, I was at your mother's house
when Lt. Abby Cowen called.

- Not bad. You alone?
- Yeah.

How do you know
you weren't followed?

That doesn't look good.
We need to get you to a hospital.

No. It's just a flesh wound.

- How the hell did you find me?
- It wasn't easy.

It wasn't supposed to be.

Are you gonna tell me what's going on
or are we gonna play 20 Questions?

Two weeks ago,

I made arrangements to smuggle
a Japanese physicist into this country

with a superconductor he developed
for the Bradenhurst Corporation.

I couldn't tell anyone,

because someone in the CIA's
been leaking intelligence

to a group of former DSD agents.

You came here without backup?
Not very bright, Webb.

Hey, I managed to ditch
the superconductor

and still make it off the ship.

I didn't get a good look
at my would-be assassin,

but I knew that sooner or later,
he'd come back here,

after the police left, to find it.

I think our leak's
an agent named Paul Candella,

but I need proof.

Not anymore. Candella's dead.
Palmer killed him.

Special Agent Clark Palmer?

- I thought you put him in prison.
- So did I.

So did everyone.

Hey, Harm.

- Long time no see, buddy.
- No one followed you, huh?

Now where's that superconductor?

You're not exactly in a position
to make any demands.

Oh, on the contrary.

You see, if I don't leave here with that
superconductor in the next 10 minutes,

Rabb here will never see
Lt. Cmdr. Parker again.

- Who's Lt. Cmdr. Parker?
- Rabb's soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.

- You got a girlfriend?
- You're bluffing.

Come on, Rabb. I don't bluff.

Harm?

She should be
at your apartment by now,

compliments of that message
you left her.

You know, the one about
the romantic dinner tonight.

Oh, wait a second, that was me.
Boy, is she in for a surprise.

He's messing with your head.
Don't listen to him.

Call her if you don't believe me.

There's no answer.

Not even your answering machine?
That's strange.

Must mean I disabled your phone.

Or maybe I rigged it to explode
at the first call it receives,

meaning you just blew your girlfriend
to hell.

If she's dead, Palmer,
then I have no reason not to kill you.

Okay, okay. She's alive, for now.

But she won't be if I don't have
that freaking superconductor.

Now let's have it, Rabb.
The clock's ticking.

Give it to him, Webb.

- What?
- Give him the superconductor.

- I can't.
- We have no choice, Clay.

She could be my girlfriend, Harm,
and I still wouldn't give it to him.

You can't shoot me. I'm the only one
who knows where it's hidden.

Clay.

Get someone over to my apartment
right away and get off this ship.

- What about Palmer?
- Palmer's my problem.

Go, I'll cover you.

King! King, it's Webb.
Yeah, I'm alive. Listen, I need--

Rabb.

Game's over.

Get it.

You do good work, Webb.

Palmer!

You okay?

Yeah.

Jordan?

Jordan?

Jordan?

Harm?

Oh, my God.
What happened to you?

I ran into a door.

Hey. Come on now.
We gotta get out of here.

- What's wrong?
- I'll explain later.

Where are we going?

How does the Plaza sound?

We swept through
your apartment twice.

No bombs, no toxins, nothing.

He was there, Webb.

Harm, do you know
what the wilderness of mirrors is?

It's a state of extreme paranoia

experienced by spooks and spies
who've been in the business too long.

Killing you would be too easy.

He wants you
looking over your shoulder,

living in a world of fear
for the rest of your life.

Palmer's ultimate revenge

is leaving you
in the wilderness of mirrors.