All language subtitles for Limitless S01E04 Page 44

My name is Brian Finch.

I was your average
28-year-old screwup

until I took a pill called NZT.

Suddenly I had access
to every brain cell.

Every time he takes it,
for the next 12 hours,

he basically becomes the
smartest person in the world.

BRIAN: And that's why
the FBI hired me.

My name's Brian Finch,

this is Rebecca Harris,
and we're with the FBI.

God, that sounds cool.

There's just one problem.

NZT will kill you,

unless you have this shot.

Now you can have as much NZT as
you want with no side effects.

Why would you help me?

Let's just say I need somebody
in your position.

If you describe
to the FBI or anyone

about these shots...

I will let you die
more painfully

and slowly than you can fathom.

So, Brian, you ready
to become somebody who matters?

Previously on Limitless...

I think my father was
on NZT that night.

My name's Sands.
I'm your new boss.

You belong to
Mr. Morra now.

Brian?
Shauna!

There are things about my life
that I can't tell you about.

SANDS: There is no one
you call family or friends

who I can't touch.

Brian?

Brian?

BRIAN:
Had to, uh, break off...

things with Shauna.

She didn't take it very well.

I think I hurt her
pretty bad.

(dance music blaring,
partiers chattering)

BRIAN:
Now, in a certain light,

this all looks
pretty glamorous.

But when you're walking up
to a place like this on NZT,

everything looks different.

Almost everyone in this line,
me included,

has a hole to fill;
a void.

I lost Shauna.

I can't be with anyone.

(unlatching velvet rope)

Am I proud of what I do
to fill that void?

No.

But I mean, come on...
I'm not St. Brian.

But honestly,

when NZT turns hooking up
into an algorithm,

the fun wears off...

and a meaningless
one-night stand

is ultimately...
meaningless.

Who knew?

Your mind starts to crave more.

So, I poked around.

I started
e-mailing back and forth

with some
very interesting people.

There's Nina, who has some
truly fascinating ideas

about why quantum particles
change form

when someone observes them.

Then there's John.

He's working on a drug

that alters the way
we all perceive time.

I mean, if you could
make ten minutes

feel like an entire day,

what would you do
with the extra hours?

Oh! And Arthur-- he claims
he's one breakthrough away

from being able
to double a mouse's lifespan

by mutating its genes.

The limits of what we know--

that's something
you can get lost in.

That's a way to take your mind
off a broken heart.

(sighs)
Good morning, everyone.

Take a seat, Finch.

I've decided...

to read you into your first
confidential case.

You will be given a temporary
top secret clearance.

Okay, just out of curiosity,
is that the highest

there is?

Am I higher than Boyle?

NAZ:
You will have access

to knowledge that,
if applied improperly,

would leave you vulnerable
to charges

of treason.
Mm.

You know, I need to know
that you understand this

and take it seriously,
and that T-shirt isn't helping.

Uh, well,
I'll tell you this much.

I don't want to go to jail,

so... I'm good.

Look, I appreciate
the show of confidence.

All right, seriously.
What's up?

REBECCA:
Our intelligence

branch is building a case
against a man named Mao Zhang.

He's a Chinese immigrant,

and he's a top engineer
at Miller-Bluett Technologies,

a very important
defense contractor.

Zhang has access

to specs for all kinds
of drones, cloaking tech.

This is sensitive
technology.

A few months back, the CIA
intercepted a Chinese drone that

was fitted

with Miller-Bluett's specs.

Our people zeroed in

on Zhang,
but they haven't been able

to find hard evidence
he's been selling intel.

They want our help.

Ooh. Okay, I got it.

Please don't spill coffee

on the top secret file.

Spy stuff.
This is so bad-ass,

guys. All right.

Where do you want me to start?

Okay.

You want me to dig
through his garbage?

It's an important part
of counterespionage.
(flies buzzing)

We've been collecting
Zhang's garbage

from the city for
over a month now.

You won't be the first
to go through it,

but you'll be the first
to go through it on NZT.

You're not on litter duty,
though?
Surveillance.

Congratulations on
your new clearance.

(flies buzzing)

BRIAN: Once you get over
the ick factor,

you can actually learn a lot
about someone

by what they throw away.

Zhang might be
an amazing engineer,

but he's vain about going gray.

He's got a gleaming
white smile.

And even though
he's lactose intolerant,

he consumes organic milk
by the bucket-load.

Which is weird, right?

Every carton of milk
Zhang threw away

has those scratches
down the side.

They're combinations
of numbers...

and when you put them together
in the right combination,

they add up to measurements.

Okay.

He's passing schematics
for some kind of drone.

You just drew this blueprint?

It's only partial,
but if we've been

taking his garbage, the people
he's giving these specs to

haven't been getting
new information.

Odds are they know
he's being watched,

and they've changed up
the delivery method.

This isn't enough
to make an arrest.

There's no evidence
of sale or exchange.

But it's more than enough
to get a warrant

for a covert search
of Zhang's place.

And we're basically positive
he's a spy.

This is huge, Brian.
Finch.

(phone chimes)

Huh.

It's this guy Arthur
I've been talking to.

He thinks I helped him
create an immortal mouse.

MAN:
Tithonus.

Isn't he beautiful?

The adjustments you gave me--
they were brilliant.

How long have you been working
with telomeres?

Uh, I don't work
with telomeres.

I just kind of took a
shot in the dark, I guess.

Do you understand
what you've done?

Telomeres hold our genes
together.

Every time

our bodies produce cells,
they wear down.

Eventually, so do we.

For now, anyway.

I gave this mouse a gene therapy
based on your input,

and if I'm right, he's going
to live up to two months longer.

Cool.

Two months-- is
that a big deal?

That is an entire standard

deviation.

If we could apply this therapy
to humans,

we could expect to live another

20 to 30 years.
Think about that.

You made it possible.

Although I do have to say--

you're different
than I expected you to be.

Your e-mails are always...
so articulate.

Yeah, uh, just kind of depends
on the time of day.

You see, if we do apply
this therapy to humans...

BRIAN: Was he a genius,
or just a crazy guy in Queens?

Off NZT, it's really
hard for me to tell.

I'd like to think
he's a genius.

ARTHUR: ...other biological
problems occur.

(siren wails in distance)

SANDS: Did you know
your flat was bugged?

How did you get in here?

Tech's four years old,

so you can give the FBI
the benefit of the doubt

and assume it was installed
for a prior resident.

What do you want, Sands?

Sit.

It's time
to make yourself useful.

We know quite a lot about
N-Zed-T our side of the fence.

FBI's playing catch-up.

We're curious
how that's working for them.

I want you to find out
exactly what they know,

and bring it to me.

This for you,
or for Senator Morra?

That's not a distinction
you need concern yourself with.

Why does he need to know this?

Brian, you're asking questions.

No.

This is a bad idea.

We should wait.

They're just starting
to trust me.

When Mr. Morra
gave you that shot

to make you immune
to the side effects of the pill,

he told you it comes
with an expiration date.

You're gonna need a booster.

Shortly.

Or...

your life's gonna take
a nasty turn.

Brain damage,
blackouts,

psychosis.

When you bring me those files--
all of them--

then and only then

will you get your next shot.

Your liquor cabinet's

crap, mate.

(glass clunks on table)

Sort it out.

You've got three days.

(door closes)

BRIAN: So Sands wants me to
get the NZT files--

that are locked in a safe
in Naz's office.

I mean, come on.

Hey.

Hey.

You okay?

Yeah. Of course. Why?

You're just kind
of standing here.

I just came
through Security.

There's someone here to see you
named Arthur Maciel.

Seems kind of agitated.

Huh.

(panting)

He's gone. Tithonus is gone.

Your mouse?

(groans)
He's gone.

Somebody broke
into my place last night.

And I think they tried
to get into my computers,

but the security's too tight.
So, I don't know, they took him.

Okay. Well, you've got
your notes, right?

Just make another one.
(sighs)
That's not the point.

If the people who stole him
know what they're doing,

they can reverse-engineer
my work.

The gene therapy inside
that animal is worth

hundreds of millions
of dollars.

Maybe billions.
Wow.

And now he has it.

"He"?

A long time ago,
I had a-a business partner,

Paul Wilkerman.

We started a
biotech company

called Claxion together.

You cofounded Claxion?

Yeah, it was in a garage
back then, but yeah.

Our visions didn't align,
so he bought me out.

For...
(clears throat) $19,000.

You see, Paul,

over the years, he's been...

(wry laugh)
less than gracious

about my original contributions
to Claxion.

So after
this breakthrough, I...

I wrote him an open letter and
posted it on a message board.

I may have boasted
a little bit.

Arthur... (scoffs)

if you posted about your
breakthrough on a message board,

anyone could have read that,
man.

Yeah, maybe.
But who could move so fast?

You see,

he's built his career
on the original sin

of convincing the world that
I am not to be taken seriously.

(knocking)
Yeah.

Okay, look, I gotta
go right now, but, um,

I'll look into it.
This is...

it's my life's work.

Don't let him take that from me.

All right. All right.

I'll look into it.

(groans)

Let's get researchin'.

The FBI put me on finding
avenues to nail Zhang,

but I couldn't help thinking
about Arthur.

You're procrastinating.
Believe me, I've been there.

Sands gave me three days
to dig up some files.

If I were you--
and I pretty much am--

I'd be figuring out
how to get inside that safe.

Naz is the Special Agent
in Charge

of the Cross Jurisdictional
Command, all right?

I can't just break
into her office.

It's treason. They throw
you in supermax prison

for that.
And what about Rebecca?

She stuck her neck out for me

to get this job.
What happens to her

if I get caught stealing
national secrets?

So don't get caught.
Because as bad

as you think this option
might be,

I assure you...

...the other one is way worse.

But you can get into that safe.

It's possible
to make fake fingerprints.

Remember?

You're gonna want to press

the silicone
into the pane of glass

with your index finger...
Aah! Boom. Told you.

You owe me 50 bucks.

You need to make
a shopping list.

Cyanoacrylate, molds, gel.

Mike and Ike don't follow me
when I'm not on the pill.

I'll go tonight.

Now all you need
is your boss's fingerprints

and you got it.

She's always drinking green tea.

(toy squeaks)

NAZ: So you're the one
stealing my tea.

It's fine, Brian.
The government pays for it.

It's for everyone.
I'm just surprised.

You don't seem like one
for healthy habits.

Oh, what, are you kidding me?

I'm gonna live forever
with this stuff.

MAN:
Ma'am. They're back
from the break-in

at Mao Zhang's.
Ah.

REBECCA:
Tactical just got back

from searching
Zhang's home.

Anything promising?
It's hard to say.

All the documents we
photographed are in Chinese.

We've got his hard drives.
Scans of everything in his safe.

If there was something
compromising in Zhang's house,

we got it.
We're heading down
to Forensics now.

We'll organize
everything we pulled.

You will have plenty of stuff
to go through in the morning.

(sighs)

(horn honking, siren wailing
in distance)

WOMAN:
Ms. Harris.

I'm sorry for the ambush.

My name is Beth Gunther.

I was just leaving you a note.

I was your father's dealer.

I-I beg your pardon?

(sighs)
Sorry.

I sold his paintings.

As far as I knew,
my father stopped painting

after he lost his job at UNC.

I didn't realize
he was still working until he...

I'm sorry for your loss.

Conrad was
renting a studio

in Bushwick. Given his history,

he needed me
to cosign the lease.

The landlord touched base
with me a while back.

He was cleaning the place out,

and he found
three finished canvases.

They pass on to
you, of course.

I'm having a show next week.
I could sell them if you want.

But, really,
I thought you might want them.

You don't have to tell me now.

Thank you for
stopping by, but...

you can sell the paintings.

Are you sure?

If my father wanted me
to know about his art,

then he would have told me.

In case you change your mind.

Wake up.

(groans)
Ike.

Not my name.

Come on. Agent Harris wants
you in Riverside Park.

Hey, I got a question for you.

How do you and Mike decide
who comes over here?

Do you play
rock-paper-scissors?

Get up.
Let's move.

REBECCA:
I got in this morning,

and I saw the NYPD
had put out a BOLO

for a name
that sounded familiar.

Earlier this morning,

a man named Paul Wilkerman
was running in the park

when someone stabbed him
to death.
Paul Wilkerman?

Chairman and CEO
of Claxion. NYPD found prints

at the scene. They're pretty
sure they belong to the killer.

They match a man named

Arthur Maciel.
What?

They arrested him
an hour ago,

and a detective said
he's asking for you.

I don't know what Arthur
was so upset about

when he came to see you
yesterday, but this morning,

it looks like
he murdered Wilkerman.

I didn't do this.
You have to believe me.

They found your fingerprints
on Paul Wilkerman's corpse.

They can fake those.

I've been set up.
This whole thing,

it's a trap designed
by someone very, very clever.

Lay out the steps.

Steal the mouse
to give me motive.

Get rid of Paul and then put
my fingerprints there.

Please.

I don't have any money to
hire an expensive attorney.

The one they sent over,

she already told me
to take a plea.

I don't know, Arthur.

Maybe you should listen to her.

I've spent the last 25 years
of my life

working without...

without credit

or even that much money.

The only goal I had

was to help people.

If you want... want to know

who killed Paul Wilkerman...

...find the mouse.

Find...

Tithonus.

BRIAN:
Hey.

Yeah.

What if Arthur
Maciel is innocent?

Do you have reason to believe
he's innocent?

He came to the FBI
looking for help.

Then he killed the guy
less than 24 hours later?

It's just weird. And, plus,

he doesn't seem
like a murderer to me.

Well, in that case, I guess
I would have to tell you

that the murder
of Paul Wilkerman is an NYPD

investigation.

And the FBI shouldn't have
an opinion one way or the other.

Okay. Good talk.

However...

last night, our translators
figured out

that Mao Zhang
has been corresponding

with a high-level
Chinese operative named Lin.

Now, there's
a Kevin Lin

who grew up one town away
from Zhang.

He has a degree
in aerospace engineering,

he served
in the Chinese military,

and he moved to New York
six years ago.

So you think
he's Zhang's handler?

He could be. Boyle and I
are gonna be all over it.

But the Bureau thinks
there's an off-chance

that Kevin Lin isn't the Lin
we're looking for.

They want you to comb through
all of the Lins

in the tristate area.

How many Lins are there?

A little under 40,000.

Now, you can do that, or...

I have contacts at NYPD.
I could have them

send over whatever they have
on Paul Wilkerman's murder.

Seriously?

You're telling me to blow off
the work the FBI gave me?

I'm telling you to prioritize.

On one hand,
40,000 people named Lin.

On the other,

someone who's been accused
of a murder

you think he didn't commit.

Okay.

BRIAN:
I ignored the files on Mao
for a couple of hours

and decided to look
at the NYPD stuff.

Arthur's fingerprints
were all over the scene

of Paul Wilkerman's murder,

but someone else's DNA
was there, too.

Paul scratched his attacker.

There was dried blood
under his fingernails,

and it wasn't Arthur's.

And t didn't match anyone
from the ViCAP database.

Whatever that is.

That scrap of paper
from Paul's wallet,

there's blue ink under there.

Why'd he cross it out?

Username: wilkermanp
and a bunch of numbers.

Password: sandcastle92,
with two "at" signs.

Why did Paul Wilkerman have
an e-mail account

he didn't want anyone
to know about?

So, you know
about Paul Wilkerman already.

He's very accomplished,
very rich.

If you're looking for people
who might have killed him,

the natural place to start

is with the people who stood

to inherit all that money,
right?

Well, that turned out to be
a total bust,

because six months ago,

Paul Wilkerman wrote an op-ed
saying he no longer believes

in the concept
of inherited wealth.

He pledged his entire fortune
to five different charities, so,

that's a no-go.

But Paul Wilkerman kept
the details of a non-Claxion

e-mail account
in his wallet.

I checked the user name
and password

against common domain names.

Soon enough, I was in.

Now, Wilkerman used that account
to write back and forth

with a man named Alan Carverton.

He's the Executive Director
of Research at Claxion.

He used a non-work account

to communicate
with his own executive?
Mm-hmm.

Weird, right?
And after Arthur

posted his big
breakthrough online,

Paul Wilkerman and
Alan Carverton sent

27 e-mails back
and forth to each other.

I mean, Wilkerman wanted to know

why his head of research
was so far behind Arthur.

So, you think this guy Carverton
stole the mouse,

killed Wilkerman,
and then framed Arthur?

Congratulations.
You've got yourself a suspect.

What are you
gonna do about it?

I don't know.

Um, Mike and Ike supervise me
while I'm on NZT.

That sounds really daunting.

You're telling me
to ditch these guys.

(laughing):
What is with you?

If Maciel's innocent, I don't
want to see him going away

for murder any more
than you do.

As long as you're here
when I need you,

and you're not hurting anyone,
then, I've got your back.

Thanks.

Uh, one quick question

before you go.

Who is Beth Gunther?

Your dad made that?

I helped him mix the paint.

I think it's my favorite thing
he ever did.

Wow.

He was really good.

Yeah, he always was.

Even after
he started shooting up

in our bathroom every morning.

I hate what he did,
and I hate that

he died because of it, but

what happened to him is not
going to define me.

But you kept that business card.

I did.

I think my father was taking NZT
before he got killed, so...

if he was finally
painting again, that's why.

And I shouldn't care.

Did you ever tell the people
here that he was using NZT?

Based on what?

That he had a glimmer
in his eyes?

I don't know.

If my dad was gone...

and I learned there was
something out there he had made,

I don't think
I could ignore it.

So if Alan Carverton killed
Paul Wilkerman,

that means he has
Arthur's mouse.

Which means it's in the labs
at Claxion.

And if I'm going to get there,
I've got to ditch...

Mike and Ike.

Mike-- four years
defensive line at Illinois.

Possible Special Forces-type
killing machine.

Real name: unknown.

Ike-- two tours of duty
in Afghanistan.

Good with knives. Maybe.

Real name-- heard it once,
don't remember.

(whistle)
Sorry to interrupt.

Have you maybe gone maybe
a little nuts?

Naz is leaving her office,
right now, as we speak.

The clock is running.
You do not have enough room

on your to-do list
to help Arthur Maciel.

There are still two days left.

And besides, Rebecca just,
you know, confided in me.

I can't steal files from
her boss's office right now.

So, it'll be easier
to betray her later then?

I don't...
I'll figure something out, okay?

Now are you gonna help,

or are you gonna sit there
and be annoying?

Look, if you just want
to get past Mike and Ike,

it's not that hard.

Just leave your phone behind
when you get in the elevator.

Shoot! Forgot my phone!

Take the stairs,
and you're out.

Get your hands on a Claxion
I.D., and you're in.

Hey, buddy, I'm selling
Girl Scout cookies for my niece.

Just trying to raise enough
money to buy a pony.
Sorry.

We don't need.
We don't need, okay?

Can I put you down
for a couple boxes? No?

(beep)

(whistles)

(whispers):
Lost and found.

(mice squeaking)

Okay, so, Tithonus,
the maybe-immortal mouse...

He's brindle,
so he should stand out.

(quietly):
You guys seen a brown mouse,

but... maybe...

He's not here.

Hey.

What are you doing in here?

Uh, Bruce from upstairs
wanted to make sure

we didn't leave the, uh,
aerosol nebulizer on

in the induction chamber.

(alarm sounding)

Oh, not cool!

(alarm sounding)
WOMAN (over P.A.): Security
has been breached.

Take necessary steps
to secure priority data,

labs and materials.

Attention: security
has been breached.

(elevator bell chimes,
man talking)

...to protect
your priority data...

BOYLE:
Ah, that's it.

That's the dead drop.

If Kevin Lin is
really Mao's contact

in the Chinese government,

he's gonna be along
sooner or later.

Then we can
arrest them both.

(phone ringing)

Hey.

I'm inside Claxion right now.

I don't think
Alan Carverton killed his boss.

He doesn't have the mouse,
anyway.

Okay.

Uh, there's a little bit
of a security situation.

Apparently,
they're very paranoid

about industrial espionage here.

They got the building
on lockdown.

You set off an alarm?

I didn't set off the alarm.

The research assistant
who didn't like me did.

Brian, you're on NZT.
Are you seriously

telling me you can't get
out of an office building?
(mice squeaking)

Well, um, I just freed all their
lab mice, so they're all busy

chasing their research
around the building.

But, um, yeah...

They've covered all the exits.

There's no way out of here
right now.

Unless...

We have two SWAT teams
covering here, right?

Yeah. Why?

(alarm continues sounding)

Get this one...

Rebecca Harris, FBI.

Claxion pulled us in
because they think

whoever's in the building is
after government research.

(sirens wailing
in distance)

Brian?

If anyone stops us on the way
out, you're my cyber consultant.

And Brian, when I said I would
have your back, I didn't mean

breaking and entering.

Next time,
don't set off the alarm.

So, she saved my ass,

and walked me out
of that building.

And how am I gonna repay her?

Not just your garden-variety
betrayal. Nope.

High treason for me.

I mean, it doesn't
have to be that way.

You definitely have
to lie to someone,

but you can choose
who that is.

I'm not sure why you'd
pick the one person

who's looking out for you.

He was right.
Or I was right. Whatever.

Sands doesn't know
what's in the FBI files on NZT.

So, how would he know
if he's getting real files?

I didn't take NZT
until 10:30 that morning,

so I had some time
to work with.

I made up a fake history
of NZT in the FBI,

based on speculation
and guesswork.

Was it convincing?

I think so.

I hope so.

You weren't followed?

I don't think so?

I was expecting Sands.

You have something for us?

Look, I don't know
if this is everything

the FBI knows about NZT,

but this is what my
boss had in her office.

We'll be in touch.

BRIAN:
Hey.

What's going on in there?
REBECCA:
Kevin Lin came by

the dead drop in Central Park
this morning. That was him.

And Zhang tried to flee, but
we picked him up at the airport.

He's on his way in now.

Amazing. Well done.

Hey, I think I have something
on your thing with the mouse.

Yeah.
You gave me that list
of charities yesterday.

The ones that Paul Wilkerman
was gonna leave his money to?

Mm-hmm.
One of them was the
International Relief Fund?

Yeah, that's right.

They were in the paper
this morning.

Paul Wilkerman pledged

to give them one fifth of his
fortune, but they're learning

that the changes in his will
were never executed.

So they're out hundreds
of millions of dollars.

Hundreds of millions of dollars
that now go to Wilkerman's kids.

The heirs have motive.

You're welcome.

Just another shift
at the genius factory, boys.

I ignored
my research assignment

and spent the morning looking
into Paul Wilkerman's heirs.

He had six kids by three women.

None of them seem
too well adjusted.

Not really a pretty picture.

Of course, if one of them was
willing to kill their dad

to get their hands
on his money,

they had to be positive
he hadn't changed his will yet.

There's only one person who
would have known that for sure.

Wilkerman's probate attorney,
Raymond Dell.

(phone ringing)

Hey, Mom.

Dad, what happened?

I'm fine. I'm fine.
I just...

It's okay. Don't worry.

Yeah, you're not okay. You got
admitted to the hospital.

It's nothing
that can't be treated.

Don't look at me like that.
I have a virus.

Honey, could you give that?

Right, it's called
a Cytomegalovirus.

Cytomegalovirus?
What is that?

It's something that happens
to some transplant patients.

The drugs I'm taking
suppress my immune system.

It's just a fever. That's all.

That is not
what the doctor said.

Okay, they said
that it could

go into my organs.

They're gonna watch me
for a couple of days.

It's just like a flu, Brian.

Yeah, except sometimes it's not.

That's not gonna be me.

It's what happens
to transplant patients.

We get sick.

We get sick.

WOMAN (over P.A.):
I.V. Tech to Pedes.

Available I.V. Tech
to Pedes.

(footsteps approach,
chair legs clack)

Sorry to hear

about your dad.

CMV.
That can be a nasty diagnosis.

What are you doing here?

I've got
to give you credit.

You did a decent job
on those files.

I've been handed loads
of bollocks in my day.

Yours is truly a cut above.

I want
the real files, Brian.

And I want them tomorrow.

That nurse.

You said she was gonna take care
of my dad, not make him sick.

Don't blame Sipiwe, mate.

Forget her anyway. She's gone.

Sipiwe didn't do anything.
I didn't do anything.

You did.

All you said was you weren't
gonna give me

another one of those shots.

One of several possibilities.

You did this, Brian.

And for the moment,
you have the power to undo it.

If you give me
what I ask for,

I expect
your dad'll be fine.

If you don't...

well, who knows
how these things turn out?

(Brian sighs heavily)

*

BRIAN: I tried to be loyal
to the FBI,

and now my dad's
in the hospital.

I'm making
those fingerprint molds,

and I am getting
into that safe.

Everything good
with your dad?

Uh, he's stable,

so he should be okay.

Good. Mao Zhang just agreed
to make a statement.

Everyone's heading down there.
You should come.

You helped
make this happen.

I'll be down
in a couple minutes.

NAZ: Okay, Mr. Zhang.
(clears throat)

Whenever
you're ready.

My name is Mao Zhang,

and I came to this country
as a believer in freedom.

I would even call
myself a patriot.

How did I become a spy?

It wasn't a big decision
I made.

It was more like a series of
small decisions I didn't make.

(groans quietly)

ZHANG:
I ran into Kevin Lin

at a conference in Berlin.
He shared

Chinese technology
with me.

It was only later
I realized it was bait.

I took money to share the plans
for a radar jamming system

they had access to anyway.
But they used that against me.

It snowballed quickly.

BRIAN: A few of the letters
are more worn down than others.

There's only one word
they combine to form.

(whispers): Mercy.

ZHANG: By the time I was
committing real treason,

I didn't have a choice anymore.

I never considered myself
a spy.

In fact, I still believe...

I am a patriot.

That the good work I did
in my job

outweighs the damage
from the secret I sold.

You missed it.

You all right today?

Yeah.

Just distracted, you know?

Thinking about my dad.

Where'd you wind up
with the Arthur Maciel thing?

(sighing):
Arthur...

Would you be willing
to run an errand with me?

Excuse me?

BRIAN:
Raymond Dell!

I recognize you
from your pictures.

You're Paul Wilkerman's
probate attorney.

The super said that you were out
here looking through my garbage.

Actually, it's not

your garbage anymore, not
once you put it out here.

Can I ask why the FBI
is looking through my trash?

I'm sure you
already know this.

Police found fingerprints from
a guy named Arthur Maciel

at the scene of
your client's murder.

They arrested him,
but, interestingly,

someone else's DNA

was found under Paul
Wilkerman's fingernails.
And once we realized

Wilkerman's kids still
stood to inherit the money,

we thought maybe it
came from one of them.

But the DNA was from a
different family line.

You are the only
person in the world

who controlled whether or not
Paul Wilkerman's will

was changed to reflect his new
thoughts on inherited wealth.

And if you
did change it,

that means that each of his kids
stood to lose...

How much again?

About a billion each.

Ah. This is yours.

BRIAN: So you could
change it,

like Paul Wilkerman wanted,
and his heirs get nothing.

Or...

you sit on it

and you put out some
discreet feelers

to Wilkerman's less savory kids

and you offer not
to file the papers

and you get rid of Daddy.

(chuckles)
And better yet,

blame it on Daddy's old rival
Arthur Maciel.

All in exchange for...

what do you think, half?
Sure.

That's ridiculous.

Is it?

You chew your pens.

I used to do this.

Probably a good DNA sample here.

BRIAN: Oh, yeah.
Of course...

if it is your DNA under
Paul Wilkerman's fingernails,

we'll know soon enough.
Which means you have

a very short amount
of time to cooperate.

You could start by telling us
which of Paul's heirs

you were
conspiring with.
And I want to know

what you did
with Arthur's mouse.

I do, too.

(squeaking)

(gasps)
Oh, he's alive.

Oh, yeah, of course.
Dell kept him safe.

Look, Arthur,

if you're right about
what your gene therapy

did to that mouse,

he could be worth
a lot of money.

I am right. You did
an incredible thing today.

Not just for me. For everyone.

You don't believe me.

(wry chuckle)

I don't know, Arthur.

All I see is a mouse.

Just wait.

You know...

even if you're not sure, you
still did an incredible thing.

You got me out of prison.

I owe you.

Everything.

Thank you.

BRIAN:
Is he right?

Am I still a good person,

even after what I did today?

On the other hand,

until I hand this disk off
to Sands,

I can learn more about NZT.

(indistinct chatter)

*

(tapping key)

(tapping key repeatedly)

*

*

Captioning sponsored by
CBS

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH
access.wgbh.org