Original subtitles

Here they come, sir.

Sir, you'd better put these on.

Earmuffs on, lads.

That's it.

Afternoon.

- I thought you were supposed to be resting. - If I could.

You look as if you've had a night on the tiles.

I wish that were true.

No, I'm not sleepeing well, that's all.

When I do drop off, I keep dreaming...

- Well, not very pleasant dream. - Such as?

A pack of dogs were after me last night

- Dogs? - Of the mad variety.

You might feel better if you immersed yourself in some work.

I thought you might say that.

I've got some experiments in mind, that'll need all your powers of concentration.

After that last carry-on, any powers I might have had must be completely scrambled.

Well, perhaps I can help you unscramble them.

I must get back.

Anne.

Could you suggest another pattern of work with this one?

If I can.

Come and see me, when you feel like it.

Does he mean he wants to get me on the couch?

- Why don't you find out? - I don't think I'll bother.

What are you going to do, then? You can't hang around doing nothing.

I think Roy's right, you know. Work might help.

Maybe.

Tea?

- Prevarication? - Thirst.

What's he up to?

Oh, my head!

Soldiers!

Soldiers!

- Get him covered. - Inside my head!

Protect his head.

Who's got the map?

Her face!

Soldiers!

They're in my head!

Go back to the croft See if they've got a phone.

I'll give you a reference: 659063

- Her face! My head... - You go with her. Bunty, go on!

Have you heard from Michael?

In more ways than one.

Hm?

I had a postcard from Heidelberg a couple of days ago,

and, last night, while I was dozing in the chair, I had this terrifying dream.

The mad dogs?

And, in it, I heard Michael calling to me.

It sounded awful.

- And as if he was terrified. - You were thinking about the postcard.

I didn't like it.

- Hello, Anne. - Oh, Bob.

Tom, you know Bob Barnsley.

He's our protector. He deals with all the nuts and cranks that write in.

- About what? - Oh, anything

Little green man to serious premonitions.

Really? Do you get many?

Enough to keep me busy, yes.

I sometimes think that people invent the stuff just to give work to do.

Like what?

Oh, we got a lovely letter this morning.

Some lady in Caithness says that people are scared to go out

because of Pictish figures dancing in the hills

Mysterious fires, mad dogs racing around.

Could it be feasible?

Aberrations of a rather sad peron, I suspect.

You did say "mad dogs"?

Probably one put down by the local vet and suddenly there's epidemic.

Is anybody going to check it out?

It's question of bodies. Or lack of them.

- I'm volunteering. - Tom, for goodness' sake!

I've got a couple of hundred others you might be interested in.

Do you know how many dogs you've had here?

Well, 34, so far, in the last few weeks.

Stark mad and no reason.

No reason?

Nothing I can find.

Nothing shows in any autopsy I've done

and I've done 23 or 24, so far.

No rabies, not any bad thing.

For heaven's sake, you'll only laugh at us.

Men. Dancing.

Pictish men.

Warriors in... in skins.

Old times. Old times back again, you see.

You've seen them?

And heard. A noise.

A dull sort of noise, yes.

And my man has, but he'll say nothing.

I'm sorry, this is our business. We live quietly here.

And half the place scared to go out at night?

- I've talked to someone, we both have. - Exaggeration.

Or just something you can't explain, Minister?

I don't believe in rising spirits or ghostly fire and the noise you can explain in thousand ways.

The wind? A bird?

All sorts of things.

You don't help, to come stirring up imaginings in these people.

The noise, what sort of noise?

I'm sorry. I'm very busy just now.

I have... visits to make. I'm sorry.

What were you doing up there?

Poaching salmon!

Poaching, he said, salmon.

Did you get many?

Do you still do it?

Why not?

You said something about "a financial consideration".

- OK? - Thanks.

I was on this hill a week back.

There's deer, sometimes, and Len pays well and asks no questions.

I was here and first the noise and a sort of humming

and then there and there!

The mounds there and the ring around the hilltop.

- An ancient fort? - A fairy fort, some say.

I was lying there.

And the figures on the hill side.

I thought it was Mr Rimlock.

With the police.

I thought I'd be done.

Aye... all around the hill.

And then... nothing.

No noise.

No talk.

And then they came up and up the hill and then gone.

Like that.

You'll not say, about me, up there?

- No-one's going to tell. - Have you been since.

At night? Not a chance of that, mister.

Pity.

Ah, Tom, come in.

Sit down.

Look, it's OK. I'm beginning to unscramble myself, already.

When did you last hear from your brother?

Michael? Er...

Last heard Heidelberg. Why?

Heidelberg? When was this?

A couple of days ago. Why?

Well, what's the matter? Has he had an accident?

In a way, yes.

What do you mean, "in a way"?

Tell me!

I don't know what happened.

I just know he is...

He's been found. He's alive.

It's all right, Tom. He's in good hands.

- Where is he? - Here, in Edinburgh.

- He was found by some... - He can't be!

Are they sure it's Michael?

I am.

- You've seen him? - Mm.

- What did he say? - Nothing useful, I'm afraid.

He was quite delirious.

I can't believe it.

He had been working very hard. It happens with terrifying regularity amongst students.

- He was fine when I saw him. - Delayed reaction?

And he was on his way to Austria, then, and I got the card.

Perhaps he wanted to get back to the security of home ground.

- Where did you say he was found? - In Caithness.

- He was lucky to be found. - Caithness?

I wouldn't call that "home ground", exactly

Where is he now?

Do't worry. He's being well taken care of.

Round-the-clock observation

A private room.

Who arranged that?

I can pull some strings, Tom. I thought it best.

Mike?

Mike? It's me, Tom.

Cool down, Mike. Take it easy. Now, easy.

Easy? Easy?

The fire. The flames.

The soldiers.

Running, running.

- Stop! - Mike, it's all right.

It's Tom here.

Poor Tom.

The face.

The face in... in my head.

I saw her and then...

- A red fire in my head. - Tom.

- Charging. Screaming. - Tom!

He must not be excited.

I did warn you.

- Are you all right. - I am all right.

Go and have a look at him.

I really am very sorry, Tom.

How come you've gone to all this trouble?

You don't think your experiments with him could have brought this on?

Not possibly.

He's such a state. Isn't there something I can do to help him?

Like calming his mind through mine?

Not in the condition he is at the moment.

He's mind gone, hasn't it? Completely gone.

No, not all all. It's a condition known as "an hysterical fugue".

It can be brought on by a tremendous emotional shock, following a period of strain.

A bereavement, perhaps.

Julia?

Were they close?

Well, they were fond of each other and he did mention seeing a girl's face.

Oh? You see. It's one of the symptoms, hallucinating.

Seeing the dead person's face. Amnesia. It's all part of the pattern.

How tidy.

Which means we can cope.

I just hope he can.

That's not going to help.

Then can you tell me, doctor, what will?

My brother is lying in a clinic, raving like a lunatic,

suffering, I am told, from something called "an hysterical fugue".

Guess where they found him.

You said he was in Heidelberg.

So I did.

And I've a postcard to prove it.

He was in Caithness.

- In the place we were... - That's incredible.

You should have seen him. He looked... a wreck

A child. Bombed out of his skull on sedatives and rambling on about all sorts of rubbish.

Flames and soldiers and...

He kept saying soldiers. I wonder if there are any Army places...

erm... training areas round there.

Training areas?

He said "soldiers". "Running". "Charging".

Oh, God, I don't know.

Is this all you've eaten?

I'm going to check.

Should be easy enough. Army training areas are shown on Ordnance Survey maps

Are they, though? I plan to find out if they are not.

How?

Ah-ha.

Right, then you find out and then you let me know.

- You don't think I can, do you? - The Army is very good at camouflage.

- Yeah, but I've security clearance. - Only up to a certain level.

That might be high enough.

Nothing.

You're treading on very dangerous ground.

Sure you don't mean "toes"?

Official toes?

Ah, I don't like the heat, eh?

So I'm getting out of the kitchen.

Anne.

Stay with me.

Oh, just one drink.

No.

You should sleep well tonight, anyway.

While you're at it, sleep on the idea of leaving the Army well alone.

Good night.

Thank you.

So, you're going through with your little plan?

I took your advice. Slept on it.

How's your head?

Screwed on tight.

- Have you told Roy what you're up to? - No.

You should, you know.

No doubt someone will.

I phoned the clinic. Michael had a quiet night.

Yes, I know.

Tom, you're heading for all sorts of trouble and what for?

- A wild-goose chase, probably. - I've got to do something.

You haven't seen him. Not a pretty sight, his mind blown away.

He'll be all right.

Will he?

Julia used to say that logic was your strong point.

Even when dealing with the paranormal, you applied logical criteria to any hypothesis.

- I've always tried to, yes. - I am very sorry about your brother, Tom.

But he "hysterical fugue" diagnosis makes sense.

He was very found of Julia.

So were you. And so was I.

No two people respond the same way to any given situation.

Oh, come and listen to this before you go.

- ...you've seen them? - And heard...

I put the tapes through considerable analysis,

and in every interview we've recorded, the only common factor was sound.

Even the minister, a real old sceptic, talked about describing the sound in different ways.

- A bird? The wind? - "A bird? The wind?"

Well?

Recently, I've been investigating the theory

that sound at certain levels can release the past from some places.

Memories held within buildings can be...

shaken free and recreated.

So, I ran a new program through the computer.

And?

Do you remember Julia was worried about the computer?

I'm beginning to wonder if it had something to do with material classification.

I tried to get from the computer all material related to sound.

Waves, patterns, thresholds, the lot.

I found that all access to recent data on sound and high-frequency experimentation

has been blocked to me.

- Blocked? - Reclassified.

I now can't access to it.

Who did it and what's behind it... I just don't know.

Well, you know the department. You know the methods they use.

You must know who has the authority to reclassify material.

Only Scott-Erskine.

Ah, fine.

- You got in all right? - Yes.

Am I supposed to hang onto the chitty?

You won't get out without it.

I sign it and pass you down the line.

Now, I have to tell you, I've only got a few minutes.

A meeting upstairs with the big five.

I can't keep them waiting, I'm afraid.

You don't enjoy working for the Ministry, sir?

I don't enjoy marching a desk around.

Well, I was wondering, sir, about a very general idea.

Exercise losses.

Accidental deaths and injury. That sort of thing.

Is this for your department?

Of course. Who else?

I can tell you that most of the accidents are the result of carelessness,

rather than operational misjudgement.

I heard that on some of the exercises in Suffield, Canada, men have died.

Is that true?

Live firing exercises do have their hazards.

I'd rather be there than up a street in Belfast, however.

Do you ever do any live firing exercise in the UK?

On the Caithness training area, for example?

We don't do live firing exercises in the UK, Mr Crane.

Not even in Caithness?

I'd have thought that was the ideal sort of place.

Remote, quiet, that sort of thing.

Have enough trouble keeping our training areas, Mr Crane.

People don't like the Army, until it's necessary and then can't do enough for us.

But, at the moment, we're made to feel we're a liability.

I won't be quoted, of course.

Yes, I see.

Well, I gathered the locals up there were beginning to complain about your operations.

I don't know where you have your information from, Mr Crane,

but you will be aware that some areas,

some training

is not public knowledge.

For obvious security reasons I shouldn't need to explain to you.

Official secrets? Yes.

It does rather depend on your reading of "the national interest", though, doesn't it, sir?

I'm sure our views on that will coincide.

I'll check and see what statistics we may have in the office.

Joan?

I want some statistics on accidents during training.

Here and in Germany.

Put in the Suffield stuff, too.

Mr Crane will collect on his way out.

Would that suit?

Mr Crane! Would that suit?

Yes, yes, that's fine.

Thank you for your time, sir.

My pleasure.

I hope you understand my reticence.

You've been most helpful. Thank you.

I can see why you keep the flat on, Tom. It's charming.

- Is it the first... - What the hell are you doing here?

I just heard today about your brother. I'm sorry.

You're not going to stop me finding out about Michael.

I want to know who's responsible.

I hate to remind you, Crane, but you do have a duty to us.

Although I'm sympathetic, your personal problems are no concern of the department.

If you endanger our work, I shall be forced to do something about it.

What are you going to do? Lock me up or warn me off?

- Believe me, I... - Why should I?

You recruited my by coercion.

I was to work for you. In return, you would help me to find Drexel, to avenge Julia'a death.

What help have I been given? None.

Now I have got something else to avenge.

Very well.

But let me tell you this, for your own good.

Stay away from Whitehall, from officialdom.

They are not involved.

- The Ministry of Defence, to be precise. - If yoo like, yes.

And what is your connection with them?

The Government funds us. The expect some return for their money.

- Even for military use? - Defence work only, of course.

Are you telling me that any number of people have access to the results of the department?

Only at a very high level.

- And who decides the level? - I don't...

Like who decided Anne Reynold's classification has dropped so far

that she can't get information she needs for her work?

When did this happen?

Yesterday.

I'll look into it.

What? You mean, you didn't know?

You've got a serious security problem on your hands, if you've lost control of that computer.

Really?

What if something like... a mind-control dart had got into the wrong hands?

What if someone were to create a chain of people, easy to manipulate,

not only within the department, but in the key jobs outside as well.

What then?

I can assure you that the blocks and checks in Department 7 work, all along the line.

You can't block people's minds, especially from someone like Drexel.

He can infiltrate anyone's mind, sensitive or not, through that girl Morag.

And you didn't answer my question.

I think you've wandered into the realms of science-fiction.

It doesn't suit me to have any such hypotheses checked outside the department

Check inside.

Double-check.

And keep your personal scores for other times and other places.

I want to know something, Mike. You can help.

Now, don't get upset, just try to remember what happened.

You were up the hills in Caithness.

If you can't speak, just try to think about it.

Will you try to remember?

Please, it's... very important.

I'm going to show you something, Mike.

I don't want to frighten you.

I just want you to try and remember.

I'm here, I'm not going away. You're quite safe.

But I have to know.

It's very, very important.

I told you not to interfere.

Mike, it's all right.

It's finished.

He doesn't need that. Just let him sleep. He'll be all right.

I'll decide what he needs, Mr Crane. No excitement, I want him left alone. Now.

No-one is to come near him, not even you. Is that clear?

Yes. Quite-clear.

Sorry, kid.

Go it.

It's here. Research into sonic release of memory

with particular reference to Hopi Indian settlements and Sioux burial grounds.

University of Wichita, PhD study, 1975.

He says that the shamans of some tribes...

- Witch doctors! - I thought you believed.

Go on.

He says the shamans of some tribes

are able to encourage the spirits of a place to reappear.

They appear to be consecutive, with ritual dances, drumming...

- I knew I'd read a paper on the subject! - Red Indians in Caithness?

Oh, Tom, come on!

How does that link up with today's Army? And what about the dogs?

All creatures are going to be susceptible to ultrasonic pulses.

A crowd-control device. They tried it out in Vietnam.

A high-frequency sound could, in theory, stun or disorientate the Vietcong.

Some reckon it's been used in Northern Ireland.

- The Army is actually using it? - And allowing it to get out of hand.

- It would be under fully-controlled conditions. - Who knows?

The dogs were driven mad by something that leaves no marks. Michael, too.

I saw Mike today.

I showed him this.

And?

Well, it's fire, flames, an Army badge.

When I showed it to him, I picked up what he remembered.

Sound can cause fits, epilepsy.

Maybe madness.

Even death, I suppose.

Not under fully-controlled experimentation.

And if the controller is already himself controlled.

If I saw Drexel's girl Morag, if Michael saw her, it's a pound to a penny Drexel is involved.

She's the link.

And if Drexel has got a puppet in the Army, has he got one in Department 7 as well?

Right, sir.

Well, that seems to be all right, sir.

Captain Andrews will see you.

We had... We had word.

What is this all about, sir?

Casualties, Corporal.

Leeeft...

- Do I go in? - Aye, just go straight in, sir.

Well, Mr Crane?

Training accidents.

Particularly in relation to your area in Caithness.

Department 7 is concerned to help.

The training area where, sir?

Caithness.

Oh, come on. Don't give me all that "classified" line.

There is an area. You know it and Department 7 knows it.

Then they know more than I do, sir.

We do have accidents.

Usually carelessness.

Last summer, on training in England, we lost a lad who went to sleep during a night excercise.

He'd bivvied under the tracks of a tank.

If he hadn't been crashed, he would have been court-martialled.

Carelessness

But thanks heaven, it's rare enough to be remarkable.

I'm not talking about tank excercises, captain.

I'm talking about what goes on in the Caithness area.

Part of the results of our work. Department 7's feedback to your lads.

- A reasonable assumption? - I really can't speculate, sorry.

Can I see someone who's in charge of special exercises?

- No. - Why not?

Why can't? Just to chat, get some backup for what we're doing.

We do need to know, Captain Andrews. It may be that whoever ran those exercises can help.

Sorry.

- Thank you. - Sir.

It's not easy dealing with you chaps from these, what shall I say, "esoteric" departments.

We have our own job to do. No-one wants us.

We do the job the best way and with the best weapons we can get hold of.

Your job? Pure research, perhaps.

Ours? Much more practical.

I really cant help you any further. Sorry.

OK. Fair enough.

Your tea?

No, thanks. Another time. Thank you.

Oh, excuse me, sir. Can I have a word with you, please?

- I'll see you, then. - OK. Really thanks a lot for that.

Er, the Department, sir, your department, a peculiar crowd of boffins. Is that right, sir?

You could say.

- Are you one of they? - No.

That's good, sir. I'm really glad about that, because I personally cannae stand the bastards.

They're all volunteers up there, you see, sir.

- Caithness? - Aye.

What did the adjutant tell you?

Not enough.

I didnae think he would.

Real volunteers, they use.

It's not the "you, you and you" business.

"Dangerous and difficult work", that's what they tell them. Well, fair enough.

But they don't tell them actually what is going to happen.

Which is?

"Crowd-controll work", that's what they're told.

Well, we're used to that, sir.

I mean, modern methods, you know.

But this is different, something to do with...

sound waves.

Well, why tell me?

You must know, it's top security, if the adjutant wouldn't talk to me about it.

I had a pal who went up there, sir, him and half of Six Platoon.

They thought they would be bloody heroes.

Well, stuff heroes, that's what I say, sir.

And why do you say that?

Because they're more trouble than they're worth.

Waste of time and blokes.

Anyway, away they went.

And how did they come back?

Two of them were dead and 15 of them had their brains scrambled.

And my pal was one of them.

How are they now?

Oh, I don't know, sir, I haven't seen them.

I saw my pal once, by accident.

I just caught a glimpse of him. He was screaming and raging.

I really hate the bastard that did that to him.

Who was it?

It was a Major...

Phillips, he was no' one of ours.

One of they boffins.

He was in control.

Look how they came back.

By the way, I haven't seen you today, sir, remember?

Who else knows?

Not many.

I progress all the papers. I write to the next of kin.

"Dear Mrs Smith, your son has had a nasty accident and will need intensive care.

The Army will, of course, taken care of it all.

Regrets."

All that kind of.

- I want to see Phillips. - Oh, there's nae chance.

He's in the sickbay with two squaddies of permanent guard.

No-one to see. No-one to talk to.

Not to be disturbed.

What's the matter with him?

Well, who knows? Maybe nothing.

But it's the easiest way, isn't it, to stop him talking?

Will you help?

I'll see what can I do, sir.

I'm in the Grenadier most nights of the week.

You're mad. You were specifically warned off, told to stay away.

Scott-Erskine told you and warned you.

You're too involved, personally.

That area is out of bounds to you, Crane, and you know it.

Thanks very much.

Dr Reynolds at least knows how to obey orders.

She knows that this department hangs on by the skin of its teeth to its appropriation.

HMG, the civil servants and the rest don't like us

They don't believe in what we're doing.

"Party tricks", one minister described our work as.

"Party tricks" that drive people out of their minds.

Party tricks that kill.

I beg your pardon?

You heard me. There are deaths.

Not just driving people out of their mind,

provoking Pictish figures to get up and go walkabout, driving dogs mad.

- Death. - The Army knows what it's at.

- Everything is carefully controlled. - But it doesn't square with the facts.

What if the controller has been got at from the outside?

What if he isn't control at all? What then?

You think your precious ministers will look on the work happily if that got out?

You think you'll get you appropriations from HMG, if they knew that people had gone mad?

Died, as an indirect result of work originated in this department

You know this for a fact?

I know enough.

How?

Priviliged information. Sorry.

How dare you.

- Tell me. - I won't.

And if you try to stop me or do anything to prejudice me,

I'll blow the whistle on this whole bloody mess. Understand?

Tom!

Tom, I had to tell him. You are jeopardising the Department.

Sure. Thanks a bundle.

Look. He cares as much as I do, as you do.

- He is trying to do his job. - If I'm right, then we're all in trouble.

- Department 7 may as well pack up, go home. - It can't.

If Drexel is involved, anything this unit develops,

any area of parapsychology it touches, can be blown by him.

And he's man enough to use it against anybody.

- I sorry, I can't help you. - Never jeopardise the Department.

You work might go out of the window, your precious scientific knowledge might be disregarded.

Keep your head down, sir.

Right. Give me a few minutes to get clear, all right?

You'll do what I asked?

Yeah, a ten-second burst in three minutes' time.

That should give you enough time to get to the door. OK?

OK.

Good luck.

Let's go. Come on!

Fire! You heard the alarm. Move it!

- Sir, the adjutant said... - I'll take the responsibility. Move it!

What are these bells?

It's all right. A false alarm.

No panic.

Who are you?

I want to talk to you, just a few questions and then you can go back to sleep.

I don't remember anything.

Nothing at all?

Weren't you in charge of the exercise?

Yes, but...

It suddenly goes blank.

What happened up until then?

I've been through it all so many times.

Why won't they believe me?

I honestly can't remember what happened.

And I can't believe I did what they said I did.

Have you ever been under hypnosis?

Look, man, I'm trying to help you.

I can help you.

Hypnosis?

Yes.

I was on the US Army course.

What source of course?

Interrogation.

Testing brainwashing techniques.

It wasn't very pleasant.

Who ran it?

Their medics. A couple of civilians.

Was this man amongst them?

Who's he?

A guy called Drexel.

You recognise him?

Phillips?

When I return to the UK

and resume my work in controlled experiment...

I will run my way normally...

until I receive a picture in my mind.

This girl's face.

I must obey the voice I hear!

Phillips...

Phillips, concentrate.

Phillips.

Who the hell are you, sir?

- What have you done to him? - For God's sake, get him to a doctor!

Get him out!

And this?

I'll explain to the CO. I demand to see the CO.

You're in no position to demand anything.

You're in it up to your neck.

You were told not to interfere. You'd been told.

Well, Mr Crane, apart from what harm you've done to Major Phillips,

you'll be charged with impersonating an officer of the crown,

breaking and entering, trespass...

I'm not impersonating anyone.

No pips, no marks.

I happen to like the color.

As for breaking and entering and trespass, I don't think you'll put me away.

It would cause an awfull ruckus outside, believe me.

Sergeant, take him down to the guardroom.

You're joking!

You're a soldier, aren't you? All that khaki, you must be.

Take him, Sergeant.

Major Phillips proved my theory.

Drexel must have been responsible for what happened on that Army range.

When I showed Phillips a photograph of him,

he went into a trance and rattled off instructions he'd been given.

When I projected a picture of Morag's face into his mind, it triggered him off.

He repeated the actions he did on that excercise.

Turned the radio volume up as far as would go.

What you're saying is that Drexel must originally have hypnotised Phillips at some time.

During the brainwashing experiments he took part in in the States.

How could Drexel have been in on that?

The US Army must have hired him.

- But that's nonsense. - Why?

If they're doing mind-control experiments, they couldn't find anyone better.

Drexel is unique. He triggers off his victims by ESP.

Why would the Americans want to harm friendly forces?

They wouldn't, but somebody did.

Or at least was willing to risk doing so by pushing the experiments beyond the limit.

Someone in this country?

Maybe someone in this department. I don't know.

But it reinforces my theory of a chain of controlled minds.

It's another theory.

You talk about the use of our work in defensive research.

The defensive research we should be working on is the ESP triggery.

I agree.

Well, good.

Now, Phillips, he's is the key.

If we could work on him...

Did he choose? Was he choosen?

By whom?

Oh, come on, they've got to let us.

They can't.

Major Phillips hanged himself last night.

He was in deep shock.

And if Drexel is controlling people,

he'll have implanted a self-destruct mechanism in any of his victims.

That's it. I've had enough.

Come on, Tom. You're getting near him now.

I can't let people die because of my vendetta with Drexel.

But it's just not a question of personal revenge any longer, surely.

You suggested there might be an infiltrator within the Department.

Julia suggested to me that there was a rotten apple in the barrel, Tom.

She might have been killed because of what she knew,

rather than as a means of getting at you

or in mistake for you.

It's too late to help Julia.

But it's not too late to help Michael.

And if anyone is going to help your bother, you are.

You must stay with the Unit, Tom.

As much as anything, to nail Drexel before he triggers another self-destruct mechanism.

Michael.

Michael cannot remain sedated indefinitely.

So, just dig into the barrel and find our rotten apple. Yes?

I believe you're the man to do it.

I can't force you, of course.

It's your choice.