All language subtitles for The.Fugitive.S01E05.DVDRip.XviD.en.bad

He took you in.

When your own parents had
to sneak you out of Oslo.

So the underground
wouldn't catch you

for turning in your own cousin.

I was a 12-year-old child,
do you understand?

A 12-year-old child!
But you're older now.

But you're not my older brother.

No, I am not,
but you treat me like a brother,

or like some lecherous old man.

I am not, you understand,
I am not!

Let go of me.

Karen,

I am thinking only of your good.

Then leave Jeff alone.
Lars told you to.

Please, leave him alone.

Lars, what shall I do?

No, never seen him.

Let's see
that match again.

Tsk. Well, it's more likely
put out by a sailmaker.

Place like ours,
we only sell sails with boats.

Not just sails alone.

There's a sailmaker in Ventura.

One in the valley too.

Yeah, I've been there.

And one in Santa Barbara.

None after that, I guess,
all the way to Monterey.

Ventura, Santa Barbara,
Monterey.

Yep.

All right, thank you.

I wouldn't want
to be that guy,

bucking the Sunday traffic
up the coast.

I wouldn't want to be the guy
he's bucking it for.

Good luck, Mr. Cooper.

Mind the rocks,
the wind and the fog, now.

Thank you.

Pedro! Pedro!

Pedro.

Sharks, huh?

Sharks.

Hardly enough left to--

Got a cigarette?

I decided to stay, Ray.

I know, Karen told me.

Why were you leaving?

It doesn't matter.

All right.

All right, but what happens
if you change your mind again?

Does she just, uh,
stay here and bleed?

If I have to leave,
it won't be my fault.

I don't want to see her hurt.

All right, Jeff.

All right.

This man, you're, uh, sure
he's a sailmaker?

He's anything
he wants to make himself.

What's he running from?

A death sentence
for murder.

Thank you,
Mr. Golden.

Yes,
everybody will miss him.

Yes, now--
Now, with Lars gone,

you'll probably be hiring
another sailmaker, right?

Well, no, there's Eric
and--

Why, Mr. Golden?

Now, you be careful because
there was a policeman just here,

a lieutenant from someplace
in the Midwest.

Now, there's a man, maybe
in the trade, going around--

He showed me his picture.
- he's a convicted murderer.

When was he there?

The lieutenant? He just left.

Now, you be very,
very careful who you hire.

All right?
All right.

Jeff? Jeff?

Jeff.

What?

That man,
the lieutenant,

he's checking
all the sail-lofts.

He's only an hour away.

We have to go.

We?

Of course we.

You want to go with me.

Do you know
what that means, Karen?

Every time I leave a restaurant,
I got to go through my pockets

to see if I've left
anything behind.

How did he know I was working
in a sail-loft?

A match I guess I left behind.

I can't get a driver's li--

I can't even get
a fishing license.

I don't know how many
different jobs I've had.

I can't even remember
all the names of them.

You're not gonna live
that kind of life.

I want to go with you.

Where?

Well, we can't just wait here.

I'm tired,
I'm just plain tired.

I'm through running.
I can't let him take you.

I just can't.

Pedro.

I wonder.

Could you wave goodbye to me
for a year, could you do that?

Wherever you go,
I want to go too.

If there's no other way.

I don't know.

What are you thinking of?

He'd think I'd faked it
if I just sailed out

for no reason and capsized.

But I'm entered in the race.

If he thought
I was falling behind,

if I was carrying too much sail,
if I was trying to catch up.

Maybe there's a chance.

"Mind the wind
and the rocks and the fog."

This time of year there's
always a late afternoon fog,

isn't there?

The channel current
never changes, does it?

Not at this time of year.

And the wind's always down-coast
from the northwest.

What are you gonna do?

I'm gonna fall behind
in the race.

When they make that last turn,
they won't be able to see me.

So I'll just keep on going out
and get lost in the fog.

Later on,
I'll capsize the boat

and drift down the coast
in this.

Jeff, this hasn't been
in the water since I was 12.

Well, if it needs patching,
I'll patch it.

And what about sharks?

I'm going to invite the sharks,

soak a life jacket
in some blood,

go down to the fishing pier,

get me some
of that cut-up bonita,

meet me at the dinghy
with it.

Jeff, you can't,
it's too dangerous.

When they ask you
afterwards,

tell 'em you decided
not to race.

It's too dangerous.

But if it works, Karen...

If it works, we'll see
if Gerard will chase a ghost.

Go on.

Uh, is that sailmaker's over
there closed on Sunday, all day?

Ask him, he works there.

You have a match, please?

You work in the sail-loft
across the street?

Is anyone else
working there?

Uh, we got an apprentice, sir.

Is this him?

Yes,

only he's got black hair.

Why, what has he done?

He's a convicted murderer.

Where does he live?

Come with me.

Where is the room?

Upstairs.

There's your black hair.

Goodbye, for a while.
No.

He's right behind me.
Now, say goodbye.

No, there's room for two
on the raft.

Karen, even if we make it,

we can't just leave people
thinking you've drowned.

Which people? Lars is dead
and I don't care about Eric.

Oh, Karen...
Jeff, please,

we're five minutes late
as it is.

We'll be late for the start.

What's this?

Oh, that's
the storeroom for canvas

and Dacron and--
And line.

Where does he go, Sundays?

Uh, sailing, maybe.

All right,
let's go down to the harbor.

Could they be
in that race?

Maybe, I don't know.

Where can I find out?

Over there
at the yacht club.

Is, uh, Kimble, uh,
Jeff Cooper in this race?

Why, yes. Uh, why?

Where could I get a motor launch
to take me out there?

Is something wrong?
Where can I get a launch

to take me out there?

We have no powerboats here.

The nearest rental would be
Watson's Landing.

That's 20 minutes away.

The race is almost over.

Mr. Cooper will be
back here before then.

You might miss him.

She's right, lieutenant.

All right, uh, let's go down
to where they finish. Thank you.

Last buoy, Jeff.
Straight ahead into the fog.

It's still not too late,
I can let you off further down.

It was too late
when you'd been here a month.

Can't see a thing from shore.
Four hours wasted.

Captain, you've got to get me
out there to find him.

We can't just wait here
while he gets away.

Get away with him?
Karen would never go with him.

They're just lost in the fog.

Now, we should go.

The answer's still no,
lieutenant.

I want to give you
every reasonable cooperation,

but going out in this fog,
even with all our equipment,

we couldn't possibly find them.

Captain, the wind's
coming up out there.

By midnight the channel westerly
will swamp 'em,

we've gotta go out after them.

I'm sorry, doctor.

Lieutenant, not till morning.

There's nothing we can do
till morning.

This is worse than I figured!

There's one!

Good, keep him around.

What are you doing?!

I'll do that.

All set?

Jeff, I'm caught.

Throw the stern line.

Jeff!

Oh, Jeff.

Not Jeff,

or Cooper, or Lincoln,
or Kimble.

Or any of the others.

They're in that boat.

They're all dead.

They're dead,
and we're alive.

So far.

Sharks.

Blood.

It could be his.

We'll know in a few hours.

I wish it would lift.

We could sure use some help
from the flyboys.

Recommend course 1-5-5, sir.

Come right
to 1-5-5.

Where are we heading,
chief?

Downwind and down-current.

Why?

Well, the wind funnels down
this channel every day the same,

so does the current.

Everything ends up
right around here:

Point Dume.

But I'm afraid...

Yeah?

If the sharks got one,
they got the other.

If this clears, they'll send out
search and rescue planes.

How far have we come?

I don't know.
Fifteen, 20 miles maybe.

I wish the wind
hadn't died.

We'll make it, Jeff.
I know we will.

Jeff.

Kelp.

Listen.

Breakers.

They must be hitting
the beach at Point Dume.

Let's hope it's the beach
and not the rocks.

They must have gotten
separated somehow.

This makes it worse.

Why did she go with him?

Why did she go?

Because, Eric--

I don't think
you'd understand.

Karen.

He was a criminal,
he was no good.

Why did she go with him?

Roger, Santa Barbara.

Abandoning the search pattern
at 0-9-0-5, how.

We have firm evidence
of a fatal shark attack.

We're returning
to Santa Barbara.

See? We-- We picked up
the dinghy here,

we steamed downwind

and found that second jacket
right here.

See, everything drifts
downwind.

The lighter it is,
the faster.

Like if we'd had a crashed plane
instead of a dinghy belly-up,

the pilot been halfway to
Point Dume on his raft by now.

A raft?

But small-boat sailors
don't have rafts.

Did she carry a life raft
on that dinghy?

No, never before, but there was
an old raft in the storeroom,

only yesterday it was gone

and the repair kit
on the barrel.

Maybe they took it. Lieutenant,
maybe she is still alive.

If we find her on a raft helping
a convicted murderer escape,

she'll spend the next ten years
wishing she weren't.

What do you mean?
Never mind.

Course 3-3-5
okay to Santa Barbara?

Yes, sir.

Oh, Lars, what have I done?

How 'bout steaming downwind
for an hour or so?

In this? What for?

I think they may have
had a raft.

An inflatable raft.
What makes you think that?

All right, Eric,

tell the captain
what you just told me.

Well, tell him.

Tell him what?

About the raft, Eric.

Tell him
about the raft.

What raft?

Eric,
tell him about the raft.

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

All right, I think there's
a raft, isn't that enough?

Lieutenant,
maybe your zeal is commendable.

If you want, I'll commend it
to your superiors.

Unfortunately for us,
however,

dinghy sailors don't carry
inflatable life-rafts

in their dinghies.

Especially the kind
of dinghy sailors

that think they can race
with the fog coming in

and the chop making up.

And I'm not risking my ship

thrashing around unnecessarily
in this fog.

Suppose they had a raft.
They started from here.

If you don't want
to risk the ship,

drop me here in one of these.

I'd drift along the same course,
wouldn't I?

Probably.

But they had no raft,
and I'm not dropping you.

The lives of people aboard
my vessel are my responsibility.

That girl is dead, lieutenant,
so is your fugitive,

whether you like it
or not.

Look! The fog's clearing
near the shore.

Hang on, here we go!

One of the midship rafts
carried away, sir.

Carried away?

Oh, no, it didn't.

Stop all engines.

Lieutenant.
Lieutenant Gerard.

Lieutenant, you won't make it,
we know these waters.

Lieutenant Gerard, answer up,
we're listening.

We'll search until dusk.
An expanding search.

Then we'll head back,
if we don't find him.

Find him?
I can't even find the water.

I buried the raft.

There's some traffic
on the highway.

So all-- All we have to do
is stick out our thumb and--

What's wrong?

I wish...

What do you wish, Karen?

You wish you could tell
Ray Brooks?

Are you sorry you can't?

Oh, no, Jeff.

I'm the happiest girl
in the world,

'cause you're free.

Tell headquarters we're heading
back to Santa Barbara.

Aye, aye, sir.

Come left
to course 3-0-0.

All engines ahead one-third.

Won't he quit?

Won't he ever quit?

No, Jeff, please, don't.

He's not cyanotic.

No water in his lungs.

When I loosen this,
he starts to bleed again.

Here.

You, uh,
go up to the highway,

stop somebody,
call an ambulance.

And when it comes,
what happens to you?

You go back
to Santa Barbara,

if anybody asks you,

you tell 'em I forced you
to come along, understand?

No.

No other choice,
Karen.

There is a choice.
Look, darling, he never saw us.

You drowned and I got ashore
with a spare life jacket.

I'll wait in Santa Barbara
until it all blows over.

You're just as dead, darling.

And then sometime,

not too long,

you can let me know,

and I'll go wherever you want me
to and they'll never find you.

Kimble.

Kimble, let me take you in.

I'm gonna get you anyway.

Let me take you in.

Are you gonna be there
when they strap me in, Gerard?

Are you gonna have
a front row seat?

No.

But I'm going
to bring you in someday.

Stop running, Kimble.

Go! Will you, Jeff? Go.

If she stays with you,

if I stop somewhere
and phone for help,

what happens to her?

Is she an accessory
after the fact?

Or is she just a girl
that picked the wrong crewman

for a boat race?

She's a girl who picked
the wrong crewman.

The road north
or the road east?

For the moment,
to Richard Kimble,

it makes no difference.

The road ends nowhere.