All language subtitles for Person.of.interest.S01E05.720p ORENJi.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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You are being watched.

The government
has a secret system.

A machine.

It spies on you
every hour of every day.

I know because I built it.

I designed the machine
to detect acts of terror,

but it sees everything.

Violent crimes
involving ordinary people.

People like you.

Crimes the government
considered irrelevant.

They wouldn't act
so I decided I would.

But I needed a partner.

Someone with the skills
to intervene.

Hunted by the authorities,

we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator,

if your number's up,

we'll find you.

Sync & corrected by honeybunny
www.MY-SUBS.com

[Electronics buzzing]

[Tires screech]

[Phone rings]

Yeah?

We've got a problem.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

What's good here?

That won't work, Mr. Reese.

What won't?

Your interrogation technique.

What's good here?

It's an innocent question.

No question is ever
innocent from you.

You're trying to determine
whether I come here often.

Armed with that knowledge,

you'll try to figure out
where I live.

You're paranoid, Finch.

With good reason.

Maybe I just don't
know what's good here

so I'm asking the regular.

Enjoy your meal, Mr. Reese.

Law degree from NYU.

He lives on the upper west side with his son, Sam.

Bus is here!

So what do we have on him?

Born in South Boston.

Law degree from NYU.

He lives on the Upper
West Side with his son, Sam.

Where's the wife?

She died last year.

Any chance Gates was involved?

Not unless he found
a way to give her cancer.

Elizabeth Gates was diagnosed

with an inoperable
brain tumor last April.

By November she was gone.

So the son is all he has left.

- Wait!
- Oh, don't forget your lunch.

What do we know
about the nanny?

Christina Rojas.

Gates hired her
when his wife fell ill.

The kid sure likes her.

She spends a lot
of time with him.

Judging by
the hours she's billing,

I'd say Gates was putting
in long days at the office.

He lost the woman he loved.

Probably threw himself
into his work to cope.

Where's his office?

Criminal court,
City of New York.

Which may explain
why the machine

has sent us his social.

Absolutely not.

This is direct evidence,
properly obtained.

So odds are he's the victim,
not the perpetrator.

Judges get plenty
of death threats.

It doesn't pass
the balancing test, your honor.

The probative value is--

I know what the
balancing test is, counselor.

Gates gets more
death threats than most.

Word at the courthouse is

he's waging a one-man war
on crime--

tough, by-the-book,
making lots of enemies.

If video of the actual crime
is unfairly prejudicial,

I think we might have
to give up

on the entire concept
of trial by jury.

The video's in.

Everyone has enemies.

The machine identifies malice
and an intent to harm.

We need to determine
which threat it saw,

which one is real.

Until we know,

my best bet
is to stay close to Gates,

in case somebody makes a move.

[Computer beeps]

Looks like he's got quite
a collection of enemies.

Mr. Reese,
any sign of a threat?

Does cholesterol count?

I'm nearly done analyzing
the threatening letters.

There are nine
that I still can't source,

but I've identified
six possible suspects.

Any of them white guys
with crew cuts?

Not that I'm aware of.

[Tense music]

♪ ♪

[Phone beeps]

Finch, what's
the son's name again?

Samuel Gates, Junior.

Why?

I think we've been
following the wrong Sam Gates.

Hey, Christina.

You're not going to believe

what Mark C. said
to Mrs. Kizer today.

[Muffled speech]

[Tires screech]

[Struggling]

[Grunting]

[Silenced gunshot]

[Static, indistinct chatter]

I can't be there on time
if I'm getting bad information.

The machine did not
send us the wrong number.

If it says that judge Gates
is in danger, then he is.

Well, tell that to his son.

The kidnapping must connect.

It could be the first step
in a larger plot

that ends with the judge dead.

We can still put
a stop to it, all of it.

But we need a plan.

I have a plan.

Find Sam.

The man just lost his wife.

I won't let him wind up alone.

[Cocks gun]

[Phone rings]

Judge Gates.

- Dad?
- Hey, Sam.

Dad...

What's wrong?

He's fine, your honor...
for now.

Who are you?

Where is my son?

No cops, no feds.

Tell anyone and he's dead.

Keep quiet and
you'll hear from us tonight.

Wait, look...
We can handle this ourselves.

Just tell me what you want.

[Hangs up, dial tone]

[Dials number]

[Over recording]
This is Sam, leave a message.

Hi, uh, Christina,
this is judge Gates.

Please! Call me back.

Hi, uh, this is judge Gates.
Is Sam there with Daniel?

No, is everything okay?

Oh, God.

Let's figure out
how we get your son back.

Who are you?

I'm here to help you.

Where is Sam?

Where is my son?

You're with
the kidnappers, aren't you?

You're one of them..

No, I tried to stop them.

The the kidnappers
made contact.

That's good.

That means they want to negotiate.

They won't hurt your son
as long as he's worth something.

What do you mean, you tried to stop them?

You were there?

I was.

But not soon enough.

How did you know they were gonna take him?

Who the hell are you?

You have two questions right now.

Who are you
and where is my son?

Which one do you wanna focus on?

[Static, indistinct chatter]

They were in my house.

How'd they get past the alarm?

I've tapped your phone

and I'm setting up
surveillance on your street.

It's our best shot
at I.D.ing the kidnappers.

Where's Christina?

She was supposed to be here
when he got home.

I didn't see her.

Could she be in on it?

That's impossible.

She loved Sam.

Judge...

Have you received
any kidnapping threats?

Tried any cases
involving kidnappers?

I have about $300,000
in the bank.

If this is about money,
I can pay.

Whatever this is about,
I'm going to find your son.

And I'm going
to bring him home.

Stay here and wait
for the next call.

They said no cops, no FBI.

They didn't say
anything about me.

Okay, Finch.

You should have audio
on his landline

and video of the street
outside Gates' house.

I want to save that boy
as much as you do,

but remember, Mr. Reese--

we don't need a judge
asking questions

about who we are
and what we do.

I can't work a kidnapping
from arm's length.

I'll worry about Gates
once we get Sam back.

Where are we on the kidnappers?

Any luck tracing their call?

I'm afraid not.

It was voice-over I.P.,
anonymized through the Internet.

What about the other phone?

The one the spotter
threw in the trash?

It's a disposable, obviously.

Not much on the SIM card.

Some disconnected numbers
and a handful of texts,

all equally cryptic.

So I'm trying
to hack the cell company

for more information.

But their firewall
is impressive.

You can't get in?

You built a machine that
spies on the entire country.

When you work
for the government,

access is not a problem.

Things are different now.

I'll figure it out.

Well, figure it out quick.

The kidnappers
killed the nanny.

They must have gotten
Gates' alarm code out of her.

[Dials phone]

[Over phone]
911 emergency, hello?

[Static, indistinct chatter]

- Hey, you seen Carter?
- No.

Detective.

Detective.

You came down
from the 51st right, Fusco?

The Bronx finest.

What brought you here?

I wanted a change of scenery.

Wanted?

Or needed?

You got something
you want to say?

I heard some rumors
that got me concerned.

[Laughs]

I just like to know
what I'm dealing with.

[Phone beeps]

Carla, I'm going
to buy you a coffee.

Since you've been so nice.

Cream, no sugar.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

Oh, he comes when he's called.

Good.

Now if I could just train you
to stop trying to kill me.

How long am I going
to have to work down here?

Commute's a bitch.

You should be grateful.

Takes some guys years
to make task force.

Plus, I let you live.

Carter, is she getting close?

All I know right now

is you pissed off
real police, my friend.

She's not going
to stop till she got you.

Is that it?

Ballistics.

And find out if there's been

any ransom kidnappings
reported.

White guys with crew cuts.

One with long hair.

Kidnapping's big news.

I'd have heard something.

What about Amber alerts?

Child abduction?

Is that what
we're dealing with?

We?
[Chuckles]

Since when are you on board?

It's still a missing kid.

Hey, whatever else I've done,
I'm still a cop.

If you need some help,
you let me know.

You understand?

I cracked
the cell company's firewall.

The spotter's phone
was purchased with cash

and a phony name.

But our kidnappers
have to sleep somewhere.

The location data
puts this phone

on the same block
in Brooklyn every night--

14th between
Franklin and Wythe.

Then I'll hit him
where he lives.

[Groans]

Finch.

I just found our guy.

Is he talking?

Not at the moment.

Turski, Leon Josef,
with an "F".

Hold on.

[Buttons snap]

I know who has Sam, Finch.

Szajka Pruszkow Dziewiec:
SP-9.

It's a nasty street gang
from Eastern Europe.

You dealt with them
in your former employment?

They were trading with
the Pashtun warlords.

Guns for heroin.

But they also run
kidnappings in warsaw.

Looks like they just opened up
a new branch in New York.

Come on, let's go for a ride.

That's all I need, detective.

[Zips]

Thank you.

Carter, homicide,
I got your message.

Detective Olson.

I got your bolo.

White male, 6'2",
graying temples, nice suit.

Super said he saw him leaving
at the time of the 911.

Did you get audio on the call?

What audio?
Nobody said boo.

M.E. said she was dead
two hours before.

So you think
your guy killed her?

No, I think he called 911.

Great, she's F.O.B.
from Puerto Rico,

no family, no boyfriend.

Man, I thought you were going
to gift wrap this for me.

What kind of work does she do?

Oh, she was a nanny
on the West Side.

We've got unis
talking to her clients.

So if your guy wasn't the
shooter, what was he doing here?

Someone killed Christina?

Oh, God, I--

She wasn't here
when Sam came home.

Sam?

My son.

She wasn't here when he
came home from school,

so he called me.

I came home to be with him.

He's upstairs playing
right now.

Thanks for your time, judge.

Christina was, um...

She was, uh...

With us the night
that Elizabeth died.

She was so good with Sam.

She was just a kid.

Hey.

He's alive, okay?

As long as they need him,
Sam's still alive.

You don't know that.

I need your help, judge.

Have you ever heard of
the Szajka Pruszkow, SP-9?

What are you?

An ex-cop?

FBI?

I have experience
in situations like this.

That's all you need to know.

Yeah?

Well, maybe you're not enough.

Maybe I should call
those officers back

and tell them the truth.

I know how to be invisible.

The police and the FBI don't.

But I'm going after
your son regardless.

Now, have you ever heard
of a gang called SP-9?

No.

Who are they?

[Phone rings]

That's them now.

Hello?

You're alone?

Yes.

I need proof
that my son is alive.

Put Sam on the phone.

Dad?

Sam...are you hurt?

Dad, please, I want to go home!

Sam, Sam!

Relax, your honor.

Your son is just fine.

He's a good boy.

Smart, like you.

How much?

I'll pay anything you want.

See?

Smart.

But, fortunately for you,
we don't want your money.

We want your help.

There's a case
in your court right now,

the people vs. Angela Markham.

The people...are going to lose.

What?

Throw the case, judge.

Angela Markham walks.

Or your son dies.

[Dial tone, phone beeps]

Angela Markham?

She mowed down some guy
in a parking garage.

It's a simple hit and run.

Well, now she's become
the key to finding your son.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

Angela Markham
is an account exec

at a tech company
near the trade center.

Six weeks ago, she got drunk
at an office retirement party,

and hit a CPA on her way out.

Charged with DWI
and vehicular manslaughter.

It's just a random accident.

What does this woman have to do

with the people
who took my son?

I don't know.

But it's not just Sam's life
they're playing with.

They're planning
to kill you too.

How can you know that?

Where are you getting
your information?

Let's just say I have a source
and it's never wrong.

Look, these people
can't be reasoned with.

They can't be trusted.

If we're going
to save your son,

I need to find a way
to hurt them.

The trial resumes
in 30 minutes.

What do I do?

Just stall.

Make it look like
you're cooperating.

But buy me time.

Well, this isn't a street gang.

This is
a multinational corporation.

SP-9 is active in at least
18 countries in Europe, Asia--

After interpol took down
the old Pruszkow mafia,

they got smarter.

Started hiding their tattoos,

studied military discipline,
computers--

They have almost
no digital footprint.

I have yet to find anything that
could help us find Gates' son.

Then focus on her.

Somehow this girl
and that gang connect.

My best guess,
whoever she's sleeping with

is high up in SP-9.

Bet her boyfriend knows where
they're keeping Sam.

And while I'm checking into
the girl, what'll you be doing?

Tracking down the rest of them.

[Static]

[Groaning]

The longest it's ever taken me
to break someone is 16 hours.

[Muffled speech]

You don't look like
you're going to set a record.

Want to talk?

[Muffled speech]

You must like it in there.

Caught a fresh one?

My guy in a suit
led me to another case.

Nanny from the Bronx
murdered on her lunch break.

Shooter dug the slugs out, huh?

Just the one,

and I'm not so sure
that was the shooter.

[Cell phone ringing]
[Sighs]

It's my ex,
I've got to take this.

You've got a real creepy
sense of timing, man.

Ballistics report, detective.

Squat.

Your slug's not in the system.

And I'm pretty sure

that Carter's working
your crime scene.

Hey, does this dead nanny

have anything to do
with the missing kid?

I'll call when I need
something else.

Hey, whoa, whoa,

you need all the help
you can get right now.

I mean, if I can I.D.
the nanny killer,

it might help you with the kid.

Am I wrong?

I'll give you
a way to contact me.

Keep me posted
and keep Carter out of my way.

So what have we got?

Primary's thinking
romance-gone-bad,

but those are always so messy.

This is too clean.

Look at the circles
on this entrance wound.

How many pissed-off
boyfriends you know

go out and buy a silencer?

Romance, my ass.

Your killer is a pro.

Pull up a chair.

All rise.

The honorable judge Gates
presiding.

Be seated.

In the matter of the people
vs. Angela Markham,

court is now in session.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

[Tires screeching]

Hey, Leon.

How's the ride back there?

Ah!

Now...

You can have this juicy burger,

or you can go for another spin.

All you have to do is help me
find a scared little boy.

I don't know where he is,
I swear to God.

Who's Angela Markham and what
does she have to do with SP-9?

Never heard of her.

Look, I don't know why
they wanted that kid.

You don't know much, do you?

That's how they run it.

They work in small teams.
Cells.

So who's in your cell?
Full names.

We only use street names.

A-K, Krakow, Sops, Ziom.

Look, there's four guys,
that's all I know.

Now would you please
let me out of here?

For no names and no info?

No, no, no.
Wait, wait, wait.

Okay, wait.

I know a place.

It's 3185 Lorimer.

It's where I go to get paid.

Good.

How am I supposed to eat it?

You'll figure it out.

I observed a white SUV driving
erratically at high speed.

I stopped the vehicle
for a possible DWI.

And what did you see
when you approached the car?

Blood.

On the front left fender.

Objection,
facts not in evidence.

Sustained.

Uh, how did the vehicle look?

There was front end damage.

A red fluid that
appeared to be blood--

Objection, your honor.

Sustained.

What happened then?

The defendant
got out of the vehicle.

She appeared to be intoxicated.

Objection!

Sustained.

- Your honor--
- Counselor...

I'm going to give you some time

to better prepare your witness.

Resume at 10:00 A.M. tomorrow.

[Bangs gavel]

[Phone ringing]

Judge Gates.

I'm disappointed, your honor.

How did you know I was here?

Did she tell you?

Who is Angela Markham
to you anyway?

You don't want your son back,
is that it?

Let me talk to him.

Not until you stop stalling.

Look...

I have to do this right
or the D.A. can appeal.

You want her free,

I have to make sure
she stays that way.

Do it right.

And do it fast.

And don't forget
what you're playing for.

[Dial tone]

[Phone beeps]

[Phone chirps]

We're running out of time,
Mr. Reese.

Did you dig up
anything on Angela?

Going through her contacts
and emails even as we speak.

Any progress with the gang?

I got an address
from Leon Turski.

[Phone rings] On my way now.

[Phone rings, beeps]

[Over phone]
It's as good as done.

What, do you think I'm stupid?

It's not done
until I'm free and clear.

This is bad for business.

My clients
are asking questions.

That's not my problem.

You are the problem.

Our whole operation
is in jeopardy

because you had too many shots.

Unless you know someone
who can do what I do,

our deal stands.

Once you get the charges
dropped, I go back to work.

Business as usual.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

[Suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

[Screams, groans]

Aah! Unh!

Where's the boy?

I don't know!

Finch...

Just found a way
to make these guys hurt.

Well, find it
and find out who took it.

I am missing two men
and $1/2 million.

Someone is making a move
against us.

I need to know who!

Contact your teams!

Change of plans.

I guess we know why
they didn't ask for money.

I have six more just like it.

Could be our bargaining chip
to get Sam.

There may be lots more
where these came from.

Angela's not sleeping
with our kidnapper.

I think she's
in business with him.

That tech company
she works for,

they make banking software.

The kind that can
spot money laundering.

And I just found
a room full of small bills.

In 2009, she oversaw
the installation

of a new anti-money laundering
system at Onestate Bank.

If she still has access,

she could turn that whole system
off with the click of a mouse.

Then SP-9 uses one of
the biggest banks in the world

to clean its dirty money.

They leave no digital footprint

because this is how
they pay for things.

Cars, lawyers, safe houses.

If we can access
those accounts,

we'll have more than
a bargaining chip.

We'll have a way
to find Sam junior.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

They know I'm stalling.

We're getting close.

Just need to hold off
a little longer.

You had your chance.

I'm not playing games
with my son's life.

They'll kill you both as soon
as they get what they want.

Now, I can save your son.

You just have to trust me.

Upon further review,

I'm reversing my decision
on admissibility.

Your honor!

It doesn't pass
the balancing test, counselor.

This video would unfairly bias
the jury against Miss Markham.

Then I move for a mistrial.

Denied.

Judge Gates--

Approach.

Is there a problem, counselor?

Respectfully, sir...

What the hell is going on?

One more word
and you are in contempt.

I'll have you charged
with misconduct if I have to.

Trust me, Miss Ramirez.

You have no idea
how far I'll go.

Nothing further.

Prosecution rests.

Hey...

That's account data.

It's confidential.

Not anymore,
we just got hacked.

What? How did they
get past the firewall?

I'm working here.

What's your name?
Who are you?

Considering they called me

when your system
was compromised,

I'd say I'm the guy
that just took your job.

A hospital would be
nice about now.

Where's the boy?

I already told you,
I don't know.

How about your boss's name?
You know that yet?

I've got a family.
You going to kill them too?

Because he will.

You ever see two cats in a bag?

What?

You want out?

Get your boss's name.

Ahh!

Carter.

Come here,
I think I got something.

I did another canvass

and I found a bodega
near the nanny's house

with eyes on the street,

and it's on
the NYPD surveillance feed.

This is right around
the time of the murder.

Look at this.

White guy, long hair,

pulling off gloves.

He could be our killer.

Or just a guy with cold hands.

What makes you so sure
Mr. Longhair is our man?

You get a description
I don't know about?

I got a hunch.

I ran his plate to get a name,

but I got a company instead.

Coldfield Holdings.

It's in Brooklyn.

Worth a look.

Finch, got a name for you.

Jarek Koska.

Word is he's the boss.

Well, if he is,
he's careful about it.

No accounts in his name.

The operation is massive.

Every morning at 5:00 A.M.,

Angela shuts down Onestate's
software for three minutes.

Millions of dollars
flow in undetected.

SP-9's not just laundering
their own money.

They have hundreds of clients.

All criminal themselves,
I'm sure.

If Koska's using
a shell corporation,

it could take hours to find it.

[Phone rings]

Finch?

Try Coldfield.

Definitely a large account.

Looks like the money's
being used to buy...

Boats, planes, real estate...

Most of it right here
in New York.

That's them, get a list.

The place they're holding Sam
will be on it.

I'm sending you an address.

A building less than
ten blocks from Gates' house.

Purchased just two days
before Angela went on trial.

If I can find Sam, the judge
won't have to throw her case.

Well, you better move fast.

I think Angela's jury
just reached a verdict.

Finch, if you don't hear from
me in four minutes, call 911.

Send them here
and tell them about Sam.

Please rise.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

We have, your honor.

What say you?

[Phone chirps]

We find the defendant...

not guilty on all charges.

If you want your son back,
come alone.

No cell, no GPS, no weapons.

If I see anyone who's not you,

your son dies.

[Dial tone]

So Angela Markham walks,

and judge Gates is heading
to a death sentence.

The machine sent us his number

because they were planning
to kill him all along.

Him and his son.

Scorched earth policy.

Clean up and cover their tracks

as soon as they get
what they want.

We need to warn him.

I've tried.
He won't listen.

But we have to do something.

We are.

Hello, Angela.
[Gasps]

[Static, indistinct chatter]

I want to see my son!

Dad!

Sam!

No!

I'll let you say good-bye.

Look, you've got me.

I did what you asked.

Everything you asked.

You can keep me,

but please let my son go.

Sorry.
[Cocks gun]

Your honor.

Stop!

Your name is Jarek Koska.

Your bank account number
is 1278340102.

Last year you laundered

at least $400 million
to clients

including MS-13,
the Sinaloa cartel,

and the government
of North Korea.

So you got some info
from that alcoholic bitch.

I'm the last one
you'll ever tell.

These aren't good odds for you.

I'm not alone.

[Phone rings]

Every last dime
has been transferred

to an offshore account.

Do exactly what I say
and you might get it back.

But if they don't
walk out of here alive,

every client on your list
will be notified

that you've lost
all their money.

Then I won't have to ki y you.

Your clients
will do that for me.

The operation's burned.

Shoot them all.

[Gunfire]

Dad!

[Groans]

Judge, is he all right?

Yeah.

Then take him home.

[Pensive music]

♪ ♪

[Vehicle ignition starts]

It's time we go
for a little ride.

3185 Lorimer.

It's owned by Coldfield.

And there's
Mr. Longhair's car.

NYPD, anybody home?

[Door bangs open]

[distant siren wails]

Shoot, shoot!

Both: Goal!

Whoo!

Whoo!

That's us, 10, trees, 0.

You're so weird, dad.

- Do it again?
- Let's go!

Here we go!

I wasn't sure
I'd ever see you again.

Yeah, I'm, uh, not great

at keeping in touch
with people.

I don't know how to thank you.

You don't need to say anything.

I'd prefer it actually.

Look...

I don't know exactly
what you do,

or how you're doing it.

But I know that
if people ever find out...

When they find out...

There won't be anything
I can do to protect you.

Go play with your son.

[Static, indistinct chatter]

What did he say?

That we don't need to worry.

He might even help us someday.

I was listening to your
conversation, Mr. Reese.

And I was reading
between the lines.

I suppose only time will tell
which one of us is right.

Thank you.

I beg your pardon?

For giving me a job.

Try the eggs Benedict,
Mr. Reese.

I've had them many times.

Sync & corrected by honeybunny
www.MY-SUBS.com