Original subtitles

Air and naval forces of the United States...

launched a series of strikes against terrorist facilities.

Pan Am Flight 103 crashed into the town of Lockerbie.

He has sanctioned acts of terror in Africa, Europe and the Middle East.

This will not stand, this aggression against Kuwait.

His relentless pursuit of terror.

- We will make no distinction... - The U.S.S. Cole was attacked while refueling...

This was an act of terrorism.

It was a despicable and cowardly act.

The next number we're gonna play for you is one of the good ol' favorites.

Until something stops him.

I'm just making sure we don't get hit again.

We got a plane crashed into the World Trade Center.

Thousands of people running...

We must, and we will...

remain vigilant at home and abroad.

What the fuck are you doing?

Fuck! I missed something once before.

I won't... I can't let that happen again.

It was 10 years ago. Everyone missed something that day.

Yeah, everyone is not me.

Once you've got to this position.

Previously on Homeland.

- How has the homecoming been? - It's been great.

For all of us.

I appreciate you looking out for Jessica.

Like you did while I was gone.

- What do you want to know? - How he died.

He's gone.

- Does it really matter how it happened? - It does to me.

We're on to the next case.

- Raquim Faisel. - What did you say?

He should use an alternate route. Tell him now.

Then see what second team comes up with tonight. If nothing, move on.

- What? - The one surviving terrorist...

from the compound in Afghanistan where we rescued Brody.

Scooped him up in some shitshack in I.B.D.

Afsal Hamid.

You and Carrie will interrogate him...

with the help of Sergeant Brody.

Do you know this man?

He was my guard.

What can I do for you, Sergeant?

I believe I've earned a moment face-to-face...

with my torturer, sir.

The 14th man gave up an e-mail address we just traced...

to the engineering department at Bryden University.

- Professor we tailed, then cleared? - Correct.

Find this man, Raquim Faisel.

What's going on, Saul?

Hamid's dead.

Suicide.

How the hell is that possible?

Razor blade fragment, left wrist.

What? Where did he get that?

What the hell?

Not only did Brody contrive to get himself in the room...

he orchestrated Hamid's suicide, and he warned Dr. Faisel.

And we, you and I, let it happen.

I think you should leave now.

With pleasure.

You know what? You can keep that. Fuck this shit!

How did you think this...

Come on!

Come on.

Come on.

Calm down!

Calm down.

How was such a massive fuck-up even possible?

- Please, explain that to me. - Sorry I'm late.

Hamid probably brought the razor blade with him.

The heel of one of his shoes was peeled back.

It's also conceivable that he found the razor blade somewhere in the safe house.

One of our sweepers might have missed it.

There is another possibility.

Someone on our side could have given it to him.

- That... That is a stretch. - Why?

You actually think someone on the SEAL team gave Hamid a piece of broken razor blade?

Or maybe you think I did it, or Saul. I certainly don't think you did it.

I'm just saying, we should polygraph everyone who came into contact with Hamid.

Ask each one of them directly about the razor blade.

I've written up a list.

We're talking about 11 people, including the SEAL team that brought him here.

She's right.

We can't rule out the possibility of a mole.

What if Raquim Faisel was warned by the same person who gave Hamid the razor blade?

Faisel? The guy that bought the house by the airport?

You want to connect him to this?

He disappeared just as we moved in.

Coincidence? Or did he know we were coming?

Oh, good Christ.

Look, if nothing more, let's cover our asses.

Eleven polygraph tests. What's the big deal?

I'll go first.

Take care of the polygraphs.

Don't you ever do that to me again.

You disagree with me, fine, but make it a sidebar.

Well, you heard what the man said. Set up the polygraphs.

- And get me Faisel. - Yes, sir.

What a surprise. Sergeant Brody's on this list.

Well, it's not my fault Estes let him in the room with Hamid.

I expected to find your resignation on my desk this morning.

I had a much better idea, don't you think?

- I should forget the things you said? - Yes, please.

He's right, you know. You embarrassed him in there.

Who gives a shit?

Saul, we're gonna get Brody.

He'll never pass the polygraph test.

We'll see.

I'll bet you everything I've got.

Everything, including my Monk's Dream, signed by Thelonious himself.

I prefer Coltrane. Not so fussy.

- Okay. Here. - Thanks.

So the tables will go right here, the chairs around the tables...

and then just throughout the yard, okay?

All right. You got it.

Yeah, okay.

Damn it, you two, the memorial is in half an hour.

You're supposed to be ready.

Ma, this little creep keeps hogging the bathroom.

Chris, let your sister use the bathroom, please.

You okay?

Not exactly looking forward to seeing Helen Walker.

Kind of got on my high horse when she remarried.

- Why? - I was waiting for you to come home.

I guess I figured she could do the same.

I had no right.

Do you know what you're gonna say?

At the service?

No.

Well, just be honest. I'm sure everything's gonna be fine.

We should hurry.

Here.

You look very handsome, Sergeant Brody.

Is your name Carrie Mathison?

Last time I checked.

- Yes or no, please. - Yes.

- Do you work for the Central Intelligence Agency? - Yes.

Regarding the questions you'll be asked today...

- Do you intend to tell the truth? - Yes.

Are you married?

No.

Have you ever been married?

No.

Do you have children?

No.

Did you ever commit a minor traffic violation?

Yes.

Are you now in Mississippi?

No.

Have you ever revealed any classified information to anyone...

- without proper security clearance? - No.

Have you ever taken any illegal drugs?

Yes.

Have you taken any illegal drugs...

since joining the Central Intelligence Agency?

No.

Did you pass a razor blade to Afsal Hamid?

No.

Okay.

Here we go.

All ready, sir?

Is your name David Estes?

Yes.

Do you work for the Central Intelligence Agency?

Yes.

Are you married?

You know, I was married, but I cheated on her...

so that kind of soured things.

Is that a no?

No.

No. Okay.

Do you have children?

Yes. Not that they're talking to me.

- Did you pass a razor blade to Afsal Hamid? - No.

- Find anything? - Eight million fingerprints...

a man's belt from Macy's, size 32...

couple of takeout food containers from a local Chinese restaurant.

- Condoms. - Condoms?

What else?

A six-pack of Diet Coke in the refrigerator.

That's it?

- Interview the neighbors? - In progress.

- Her? - Not yet.

I apologize for all the commotion, ma'am.

We'll be out of your hair soon.

Oh, this is very exciting.

It's not often we get a murderer living in the neighborhood.

Murderer?

That's what Marilyn across the street said, a cold-blooded murderer.

Raped and strangled some poor girl over in Fairfax County.

Lock your doors tight tonight.

Oh, I will.

Mr. Jawdal moved in about three weeks ago?

That's right.

Anything you can tell me about him?

He was very quiet and polite.

They pretty much kept to themselves.

- They? - He and his wife.

What happened?

I don't know. Someone must have found out about the house.

- How? - I don't know.

- Where are we going? - Someplace safe.

Says who?

This is nuts.

There's no one there.

- Yeah? How do you know? - I know.

Relax, okay? We're fine.

Fine? Are you kidding me?

We're not fine. We're fucked.

- Raquim? - What?

I'm sorry I dragged you into this.

You didn't drag me into it.

Okay?

I dragged myself into it.

I am a victim of your fabulousness.

- Are you saying I'm fabulous? - Yes, I am.

You are so full of shit.

I asked you all here today to help me...

say good-bye to my former husband...

Tom Walker.

This has been a very difficult eight years.

And now finally we can give Tom the farewell he deserves.

Tom, always said...

that Nick Brody was his closest friend...

and Nick was with Tom when he died.

Nick.

Tom Walker was a good man...

a true marine...

and the best shot I ever encountered, bar no...

Sorry.

Jesus.

- Come on. - Sorry.

Sorry.

Tom was the opposite of pretentious...

whatever that is.

Humble?

He just wanted to get the job done and get back to his family.

Staff Sergeant Calhoun.

Present.

Private First Class Fernandez.

Present.

Private First Class Wakefield.

Present.

- Captain Faber. - Present.

Private First Class Green.

Present.

Corporal Walker.

Corporal Thomas Walker.

Corporal Thomas...

Patrick...

Walker.

Good service.

Yeah, it was really good.

Will you excuse me?

I'll be back in a minute, all right?

Okay, babe? All right.

- Sergeant Brody. - Yeah.

Hey.

- That must have been hard. - Yeah.

Hey, I hate to do this right now, but my bosses kind of insist.

We need you to come out to Langley to take a polygraph.

Why?

I'm afraid that's classified.

- Can you come out today? - Is this to do with Hamid?

I can't say. I'm sorry.

Well, I got to go back to the reception. They're having it at my house.

Oh, how about tomorrow?

10:00 a.m.?

Fine.

Okay.

Oh, lovely service. Really.

Faisel's got a woman with him...

maybe a girlfriend, maybe a wife, maybe just a cohort.

She's Caucasian, mid-20s, blonde hair, blue-green eyes, depending who you talk to.

- Caucasian? - Yep.

- What do we know about her? - Nothin'.

We lifted a bunch of fingerprints from the house.

We're hoping at least one of them will be hers and that we'll be able to I.D. her.

Can we change gears for a second?

When this is all over...

I'd like to go back to the field.

I thought you were done with the field.

Mira's been offered a job heading up the Red Cross in India...

and Ed Welles retires in a few months, so, you know, I thought...

You thought you'd end your illustrious career as the New Delhi Station Chief.

Who said anything about ending my illustrious career?

I'll take it up to the seventh floor.

Thanks.

- Sir. - Yeah?

- Faisel's license plate. - Toll booth on I-70 caught it.

- Where on I-70? - Twenty miles west of Baltimore.

- When? - Five hours ago.

If they stayed on I-70, they should be somewhere around Columbus, Ohio, by now.

- Alert the Ohio State Police. - We also have a photo of Faisel and the girl.

Run her face through the databases.

Also see if that fancy new face-recognition software gets us anything.

Also try and match her face to anyone who popped up because of fingerprints.

Raquim?

We're here.

This is it?

You sure?

This is where they said we'd be safe.

They said they'd meet us here?

They said to sit tight and they'd contact us.

- Wait! - What?

- Don't open the door. - Why? Why?

Close that. Close that gently. Gently.

Gotta get back in the car.

- Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. - We're okay.

- Oh, fuck. You keep saying that. - Because it's true.

- You sure it was a bomb? - I could see the trigger.

Pressure-released. Open the door, and boom. Very simple and very effective.

What? How do you know this shit?

- They... They trained me. - They trained you?

- You never told me that. - Does it matter?

Yes, it does matter.

We are supposed to be in a relationship.

We are supposed to be honest with each other.

We should turn ourselves in.

And spend the rest of our lives being interrogated...

in some offshore torture chamber?

We haven't actually broken any law.

- They can't hold us forever. - Tell that to the guys in Guantánamo.

I'm getting rid of this car.

- Helen? - Yes?

I'm so sorry.

- Oh, thank you. - No.

I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you when you decided to marry Matt.

Oh, Jessica, you were just holding on to Brody, that's all.

You didn't want to let him go.

And see?

You were right.

Here he is.

- Motherfucker. - Boom, baby.

Hey, hey. To Tom Walker.

To Tom Walker.

Tom Walker.

What went on over there, Nick?

How'd you and Walker get hit?

Well, we were dug in.

You know, next thing I know...

we're taking fire from all sides and...

and we ate dirt and prayed.

They were waiting for you.

Somebody screwed up.

Somebody always screws up.

Rear-echelon motherfuckers.

You are so full of shit, Brody.

- Lauder, shut the fuck up. - No, no.

I think it's important to state for the record...

case anybody's wondering...

which they're not.

But hey...

the record's the record.

Brody's full of shit.

Right up to his fuckin' eyeballs.

It's always good sharing a beer with you, Lauder.

Exactly when did Wild Man Brody become a dick-sucking war hero...

trotted out by the brass...

so all the fucking morons in this country...

could have something to feel good about...

so they'd stop asking, what's the point?

The fuck are we even doing in Iraq and Afghanistan?

And when did you...

who once told me you just wanted to come back in one piece...

become Boy Scout poster boy for fucking recruitment...

suckering another couple thousand boys...

from fucking Indiana and the Bronx...

to go out and get their fucking legs blown off?

What happened to you?

Here's my question.

How come Walker died and you came back alive?

What's that about?

What's that about?

Luck, Lauder.

That's what it's all about.

Good luck and bad luck.

I'm glad you brought up the subject of luck.

Mike, you got anything to say about that...

you being an expert on luck and all?

Such an asshole.

Can I be honest?

I'll be honest.

Why not? We're all compadres, right?

Brothers in arms and all that crap?

While you were away...

there's not a man here who didn't want...

to bend your wife over the sink and fuck her up the ass.

But only one of us...

Hey! Hey, come on, man.

Hey. Hey, guys, there's children here.

No, he wanted this. Let him go.

Come on, man.

- Brody! - Brody, what are you doin'?

All right, all right, all right. All right, come on, man.

- That's enough. That's enough! - Guys, not here.

You were my friend.

Brody.

Brody.

Fuck.

Meet Aileen Margaret Morgan.

Twenty-eight years old, brown hair, sometimes dyed blondish...

blue eyes, 5'5", 110 pounds.

This photo was taken six years ago when she was arrested...

protesting outside a G8 meeting in Edinburgh.

The one to the right was taken six months ago...

for her current driver's license.

Somehow she made the journey from Connecticut schoolgirl...

to terrorist's girlfriend involved in a plot against America.

How? Why? Dig into her history.

Where did she grow up? Where did she go to school? Who were her friends?

Where and when did she meet Faisel? All of it.

Anything more about the car? I want every cop on the Eastern Seaboard looking for that thing.

- Sir? - Yeah.

Sorry to bother you, but it's...

What? Spit it out, spit it out.

It's time, sir.

Anybody know what he's talking about?

- I think it's time for your polygraph. - Polygraph?

I don't have time for a fucking polygraph.

It's all right, Saul. You'll be fine.

If anything comes up, I'll come and get you.

You're not gonna miss anything important.

Please help me out here.

This is how we're gonna get Brody.

Look for any contacts overseas, especially in the Middle East.

School exchange programs, graduate school, kibbutz, anything.

- This is the polygraph room, sir. - Oh, is that right?

- Hello, Larry. - Hello, Saul.

- How's everything? - Oh, just peachy.

Okay.

Would you hold that for me?

Thank you.

And could you hold this for me? Thank you.

Born December 25, 1983, Houston, Texas.

Father is Owen Robert Morgan...

mother is Abigail Sarah Lifeliter.

RAKOR vice president.

He ever work in the Middle East?

Saudi Arabia, 1991 to '96.

Looks like he's a pretty big deal in the oil business.

Okay. So we've got a rich American girl living in Saudi Arabia...

for five years between the ages of 8 and 13.

When did Faisel leave Saudi Arabia to study in the States?

1995.

So they overlap by four years.

What happened, Aileen?

What did you see?

Is your name Saul Berenson?

For Christ's sake.

Is your name Saul Berenson?

Yes.

Saul, calm down. We've been through this before.

Take a deep breath. Think of something pleasant.

Okay?

Okay.

Okay.

Do you live at 413 Circle Drive in Washington, D.C.?

Yes.

Here we go.

Much better.

Do you work for the Central Intelligence Agency?

Yes.

Is your office on the fifth floor?

Yes.

Are you planning on telling the truth today...

about Afsal Hamid and the razor blade?

Yes.

- Did you pass Afsal Hamid a razor blade? - No.

Saul?

You gotta relax or we'll be here all night.

I can't be here all night. We've got an emergency going on out there.

The real world will not wait for these bureau-fucking-cratic idiocies.

We'll finish it tomorrow.

Saul?

Where'd she go after Princeton?

Jordan, the Peace Corps.

- How long? - Two years.

Do any traveling while she was there?

Egypt, Lebanon...

Oh, here we go. Saudi Arabia, March 22 to March 30, 2004.

Any overlaps with Faisel?

March 26 to 27, 2004.

Faisel visits his grandmother.

Aileen Morgan and Raquim Faisel...

met somewhere between 1991 and 1996 in Saudi Arabia.

They reacquainted themselves there March 26 to 27, also in Saudi Arabia.

They were childhood friends.

That was fast.

I gotta go back, finish tomorrow.

I figured you might need me out here.

A naive, weak-willed, American rich girl...

falls madly in love with a Saudi engineer who happens to be a terrorist.

Sacrifices all to be with him...

and help fulfill his mission, whatever the fuck that is.

Sound convincing?

Why hasn't she cracked, at least a little bit?

Called her parents, run away, something?

Things are getting pretty hairy for an amateur.

Maybe we've got it backwards. Maybe she's the one driving this.

She's the terrorist?

Carrie here.

It's me. Brody.

Yeah, you gave me your number.

- Should I hang up? - What's wrong?

I can't do the polygraph tomorrow.

- Why not? - I just can't. I'm a mess.

I've had the worst fucking day.

I could tell him my name and it would sound like a lie.

Where are you?

Oh, you didn't have to come.

I'll have whatever he's having.

Bourbon, straight bourbon.

Okay.

What's the difference? I always wondered.

Straight's been aged for two years in charred oak barrels.

Still tastes like gasoline to me.

What happened to your hand?

I decked my best friend.

Hurts like a motherfucker. Excuse my French.

I was talking about your friend.

Don't. He's an asshole.

Wanna tell me about it?

You ever been married, by any chance?

- Nope. - Why not?

Just hasn't felt right quite yet.

Or as important as what I do for a living.

Plus, the guy I was seeing when I left for Iraq decided I wasn't worth the wait.

- Nice. - I can't say I really blame him.

I mean...

It's not like I was Little Miss Faithful over there.

Hey, if you don't slow down, I'm never gonna be able to catch up.

How come when I met you at the safe house the other day...

you pretended like we hadn't bumped into each other at the support group?

Oh, that.

Yeah, that.

You mean aside from the fact that I'm not supposed...

to get help from counselors outside the Agency?

Is there another reason?

I don't know.

I was standing there that night in the rain.

I figured, who else had to know?

What?

I like it when life is like that.

Like what? Wet?

Heightened somehow.

When I was a girl, my friends and I...

used to play chicken with the train on the tracks near our house...

and no one could ever beat me, not even the boys.

I can't stand the Wizards.

What kind of name is that anyway?

For a basketball team? The Wizards?

What are they, like, magicians in hoods?

Redskins?

- I love the Redskins. - Me too.

No, I grew up on the Redskins.

My father thought he was a Redskin.

He used to take me to games in the freezing cold.

One time, wore sleeping bags.

We climbed in. We zipped 'em up.

All you could see was our eyes.

- You have great eyes. - Thank you.

- Kind of secretive. - Comes with the job.

Secretive eyes, it's a requirement.

Really.

- Oh, Jesus, we drank too much. - Yeah, we did.

- Oh, I hope I don't puke. - You're gonna puke?

- No. - You all right?

- I'm half Irish. - The Irish don't puke?

Nah. Only when we have to salute the British.

This is me.

Wanna know what it's all about? The polygraph?

- I thought that was classified. - It is.

Hamid's dead.

Someone slipped him a razor blade in the safe house.

Slit his wrists.

Oh, yeah.

Any more secrets you want to share?

What else don't I know?

I can't hear the song.

How can you just sit there listening to wailing cowboys...

- when our lives are falling apart? - I need to relax.

I can't think straight if I don't relax.

No, what we need is a fucking plan.

What if we went to Mexico?

No. We should turn ourselves in.

- No! - Yes, we can ask for protective custody.

I'd rather die.

Yeah?

Well, you're going to.

I gotta pee.

You're awake.

Jetlag, I guess.

I got some good news.

- Do you want some tea? - Tea?

Sure. Thanks.

I put in for the New Delhi station.

Ed Welles retires in a few months.

I believe I got Estes' backing.

Take the new job. I can come with you.

I don't want you to come with me.

What?

I want to go alone. I need to go alone.

Why?

I just do.

For how long?

I don't know.

A week?

I don't know.

A month?

What?

I don't know.

New job...

Just a ploy?

Your way of letting me down gently?

Saul...

We're like good friends sharing a house.

You do the dishes. I water the garden.

You are watching football. I watch cooking shows.

You play golf. I do yoga.

Sounds perfect.

Come on. We're late.

Come on.

Hey, have a good day at school, sugar bunny.

Right.

Dana.

Did you go to college?

Yes.

Did you major in political science?

Yes.

Have you ever sold secrets to an agent of another country?

- No. - Are you married?

No. Not really.

Yes or no.

I don't know, Larry.

Okay?

Maybe yes, maybe no.

Technically?

Technically? Yes.

Did you give Afsal Hamid a razor blade?

No.

That's it.

You're free.

- I hope I never see you again. - Oh, you will.

Thanks, buddy.

Trouble at home. It'll blow over.

Brody next?

Brody's next.

Assuming he shows up.

This is it, Saul.

- Finally. - Let's hope.

Come on in, Sergeant Brody. Just stand over here.

This won't take long. Can you just take your jacket off?

You can put it on the chair there.

If you could just help me...

Hold that there under your stomach. Thank you.

Okay, you can have a seat.

Okay.

Now just relax...

and answer all the questions honestly, yes or no.

All set?

Okay.

Is your name Nicholas Brody?

Yes.

Are you a member of the U.S. Marine Corps?

Yes.

Do you intend to tell the truth here today?

Yes.

- Have you ever sold secrets to a foreign government? - No.

Have you ever been arrested?

Yes. I borrowed my dad's Pontiac one time.

I was 15 years old.

Have you ever been arrested for a felony?

No.

Have you ever killed a man?

Yes.

- Did you pass Afsal Hamid a razor blade? - No.

Do you live at 3319 West Chapman Street?

Yes.

- Are you sometimes called Nick? - Yes.

- Is Boston the capital of Massachusetts? - Yes.

- Do you know Afsal Hamid? - Yes.

Did you meet him in Syria?

Yes.

Did you slip him a razor blade?

No.

Ask him again.

Did you slip Afsal Hamid a razor blade?

No.

Ask him if he's ever been unfaithful to his wife.

Go on, ask him.

Have you ever been unfaithful to your wife?

No.

Okay, Larry, wrap it up.

Thank you, Sergeant Brody.

That it? We all done?

He's lying.

He passed the polygraph.

Same one you and I take and flub every time, or at least I do.

He's... It's over.

- Man is clean. - Saul...

You can't deny the facts...

what we just witnessed...

just 'cause you find 'em inconvenient.

So...

now we know that Sergeant Brody's been faithful to his wife.

Question...

Why do we care? What was that all about?

Get in.