All language subtitles for Scorpion - 1x03 - A Cyclone.HDTV.LOL.en

My name is Walter O'Brien.

I have the fourth highest IQ
ever recorded: 197.

Einstein's was 160.

When I was 11,
the FBI arrested me for hacking NASA

to get their blueprints for my bedroom wall.

Now I run a team of geniuses,

tackling worldwide threats

only we can solve.

Toby's our behaviorist.

Sylvester's a human calculator.

Happy, a mechanical prodigy.

Agent Cabe Gallo's our government handler.

And Paige? Well, Paige isn't like us.

She's normal and translates the world for us

while we help her understand her genius son.

Together, we are Scorpion.

Sylvester only seconds behind!

Oh, my!

But he is displaying facial stressors.

Will he choke?

Will... he... choke?

Toby! Just. J... okay?

The pace is breakneck.

The tension is high.

Children.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

This is not for the
pregnant or faint of heart.

Oh, oh, oh!

It's the old blind-bomber trick!

It's gutsy, it's cocky,
it could serve to psych out Dodd!

- No.
- What? N-No.

No. Oh, no! Dodd rallies!

Dodd rallies!

Time!

Oh, oh. Ooh.

What the hell's going on?

Walter wins. As usual.

By a hair, pal. By a hair.

Team of Einsteins,
none of you could tell time?!

Turn that noise off! We're late!

Let's move!

Oh, we were just blowing off steam, Cabe.

We're ready. Well, you better be.

The future of the team depends on it.

Director Merrick already thinks I'm crazy

for forming a team of geniuses.

We got to prove him wrong.

Guys, guys, guys.

He's right.

This exercise is a huge opportunity

for our company; for all of us.

I know we can do this. We're ready.

All right.

Forgot my hat.

Are you kidding me?!

Let's go!

Hurry up already!

Come on, come on.

What's the delay?

These have been here since yesterday!

Move!

Nemos, I just wanted to return my uniform

and get my last check.

I don't understand this new job of yours.

Brilliant people.

- I mean, what are they? Scientists?
- Geniuses.

Kind of a liaison to regular people.

You know me... good with customers.

Yes, I know.

That's why you should stay.

How many times does an opportunity like this

come along for me...

for my son?

And I never know what this job will bring,

but it's always exciting.

Walter, this is a mistake.

I'm not prepared for this.

I've got your back, buddy.

I've always got your back, okay?

Approaching the hot point.

Delta Team quells the insurgency.

Omega, locate the comm room.

Shepherds, the SMACKs.

You got 30 seconds to download that file.

You copy?

I'm clear on everything,

except why you keep calling us “SMACKS”"

It's an army funny.

SMACK... Soldier, minus ability,
coordination and knowledge.

The Federal Government,
good at acronyms and nothing else.

Does he know that I'm
Director of Homeland Security?

Your superior?

They're just civilians.

Got eyes on the compound. Moving in.

Move, move, move, move, move, move.

I have plantar fasciitis.

Go. All right.

I designed the
breach-device for a hard torque,

so put your back into it.

Down, down! Get down!

Come on, SMACKs. Move!

30 seconds to download the file!

All right.
Sylvester, you take the right.

Faster than that! Let's go, boys!

Yeah, okay. Are you in?

Walter, there is encryption
at the firmware level.

Damn it. This thing's in
Arabic-Sudanese Unicode.

I'm panicking! I-I-I'm panicking!

We don't have time for this!
- Okay, okay, okay, okay.

Let's go, SMACKs! Come on!
Okay, we'll adapt.

Perimeter breach! 15 seconds!

- I'm done.
- I can't concentrate.

I can't do this.
I-I got you, buddy. I got ya.

Three seconds! You hear me?!

I got the file.

- I got the file.
- Okay.

- Okay. Okay.
- We're overdue!

Come on! Go, go, go...!

All right! All right, where are we going?

- Where are we going?
- Go straight! Go!

Oh, God.

I'm so sorry, Walter.

They're captured.

What's with the full contact, Agent Gallo?

Fall out!

All right! Break it up, break it up!

This is meant to impress me.

Your human calculator froze.

Your engineer has no
concept of following orders.

And your shrink...

I don't know where to begin.

You can start by being nicer.

We were doing fine until
that jarhead got handsy.

Where'd he touch you, exactly?

Guys, uh... Director Merrick...

...the, uh, Marines

talking smack in the Humvee
caused a distraction.

Questioning our entry point cost us time.

26 seconds.

To be exact.

Their approach slowed us down.

The purpose of this exercise was to see

if your purported group of geniuses

could contribute to a
high-end military operation.

I have seen nothing that makes
me believe that that's possible.

And I'm starting to wonder

if funding this group was a mistake.

They have no further duties
until you hear from me.

Ralph, we talked about this.

Going to school is your job.
You need to go.

I'm still nervous about my new job,
but I need to go, too.

Be determined to have a
great day and you will.

And do you know what I see over there?

I see that little boy wearing a t-shirt

from L.A. Science and Cultural Center.

You love that place.

I'd call that an ice breaker, right?

You're gonna be okay.

Are you sure?

Mm-hmm.

Okay. Go.

I love you.

Hey.

How'd it go?

For a Government Endeavor?

About how you'd expect.

Time for me to get chewed out again.

Yes, sir. Director Merrick.

Oh, okay.

Uh... I-I brought bagels from
Kovelsky's on the corner.

You're not a waitress, Paige.

Though you may be again soon,

if we don't iron out our issues.

The training mission report.

She hit a Marine?

Yeah, this was our chance
to prove ourselves,

and we end up, uh,

self-destructing like we always do.

What... what can I do?

Find a way to fix us.

Hey, Happy.

I appreciate what you're doing,

but I just need to settle down first.

Check in with me Saturday.

You still don't know us that well.

Happy suffers from hostility
and anger dissonance syndrome.

Sylvester's anxiety, OCD,

and more phobias than you shake a stick at.

Walter is textbook intellectualmegolomania

and anti-obedience syndrome.

That should be fun to see
how that plays out with Cabe.

Me? I am a narcissist

with a slight dusting
of addiction tendencies.

So, welcome aboard.

Yeah!

The Scorpions!

It's our theme song!

Is this how Ralph feels,
being boxed out by other kids?

You just need a little more time to fit in.

You'll be fine.

And so will Ralph.

What is happening?

Our wireless is down.

How on earth is our wireless down?

That call from Merrick was about a bomb.

Took out a law firm at One Wilton.

Homeland responds to all bombings.

The big commercial building down by Sixth?

How bad?

Took out the law firm and
the basement beneath it.

Six folks in intensive care.

Can we tag along?

Merrick has you on ice.

One Wilton.

One Wilton.

They may have a problem a lot
bigger than a lawyer's office.

So, it was a big blast,

but they weren't trying
to take out the building.

Just the law firm.

Mark Brown, Family Law.

Pretty drastic step to
settle a custody dispute.

LAPD said the lawyer
found a note on his door.

“You ruined my life, hope I ruined yours.”

Who's that?

Said he's assessing collateral damage...

Thank you.

The destroyed Internet
equipment in the basement.

Showed me an FSG badge.

I've never seen one before.

Cabe Gallo, Homeland Security.

Agent Thomas Keeler. FSG.

Didn't know you guys
operated out in the open.

Doesn't your jurisdiction only cover

online communications and surveillance?

And when the internet goes down,

we'd like it back up and running ASAP.

Cabe.

Who's contaminating my crime scene?

I think this is an act of terrorism.

Friends of yours?

Independent contractors.

Excuse me.

Why are you here?

That's Agent Thomas Keeler,

Federal Surveillance Group.

They analyze all domestic
data and communications

- for security purposes.
- That's unconstitutional.

Their agency has a direct line to Merrick,
the Joint Chiefs,

the President.

Any of them hear shouting about terrorism...

This intentionally nondescript building

houses the hard cables that
support Internet service

throughout the Southwest.

That right there is what's left of them.

There was a note left on the lawyer's door.

That was a decoy.

If the bomber was targeting the
lawyer over something emotional,

divorce or child custody,

the killing mechanism
would have been intimate...

stabbing or strangulation.

Structurally, you'd put the
explosive in that light fixture.

Take the whole office out
instead of just a section.

Whoever did this had to know that there was

a seven-millimeter fiber trunk cable

in the air vent so they
could wedge a bomb behind.

That's the vent configuration
if everything is up to code.

Normally, there's no place to
even plant an explosive.

I worked in the Building Commission

for a day until I got fired

for spilling some hand
sanitizer on some blueprints.

With the Web down

between here and Scottsdale, everything,

from banking to emergency
services is affected.

No access to cash.

Traffic will grind to a standstill by night.

Even the DWP runs online,
and in less than a week,

fresh water goes away.

This is about more than
just people losing e-mail.

He's right about that.

If you let us help,

we can eventually

restore full service.

In the meantime,

we can help catch this bomber.

Who exactly are these independent
contractors of yours?

They're a team of high-IQ personnel
that I've been working with.

Give me a second.

You're trying to make up
for blowing it earlier,

but you guys are still brand-new at this.

You screw it up like you did this morning,

it's over for all of us.

You.

You need to keep these guys in check.

That's your job.

Capisce?

Be determined to have
a great day, and you will.

sync and corrections by dreaMaker7
www.addic7ed.com

The bomb in downtown LA

continues to have ripple effects.

Jerry Dowdell reports live
from Olympic and La Brea.

Security footage almost set up.

All right, well, if that's the best
you can do, we'll take it.

Happy, a 2000 Series Aggregation Router

is being overnighted from Berlin.

Can we get it sooner?

We're not buying a mouse pad.

No, it's high-end product
only made in Germany.

So we get it installed tomorrow.

Internet's up; everything is back to normal.

Far from it in the meantime.

Traffic lights are not working,

causing near gridlock.

And now reports of a
train crossing malfunction

in Moore Park that's resulted
in the death of two pedestrians.

Agent Gallo,

I have a psychotic bomber to catch,

and I don't have all day.

Surveillance footage is ready.

All right, Happy, can you run

the films simultaneously?

So, first thing

we're gonna do is run a
Gaussian filter algorithm.

That way, you get rid of all the
film where nothing moves.

It's a big problem with
surveillance footage.

There. We just cut down the number
of hours to search by 80%.

Where did you get this “Goss-ian...”

Gaussian.

Gaussian algorithm thing?

Photoshop. Toby, you're up.

We're gonna get a little un-PC up in here.

Traditional bomber profile means we lose

Asians

and Latinos.

Cut anyone over 60 and under 12.

That's not how this software
is meant to operate.

Explosives are traditionally a boys' club,

so let's lose the women

and anyone not wearing a hat or sunglasses.

All right, now who's ready
for a little hustle and flow?

What's that?

Flow dynamics, study of herd think.

Actions, reactions.

When one gazelle's ears perk up,
so do all the others,

then they all run from the cheetah

with the same urgency.

But... ah!

That guy in the hat and sunglasses.

White male, 30s,

fits the domestic terrorist M.O.

See, he's calm, 'cause he knows
no other bombs are gonna go off.

Run him through the program.

I did. It's no match.

Well, we'll take it back to the FSG lab.

We can clarify the photo.

You know, your software is decent,

but it relies on three-point

bone structure ratio,

and that's pretty hard to compute

when half of someone's face is covered.

How do you know so much about
top-secret government software?

I may know someone who hacked into it.

Be that as it may,

I'll rely on my technology.

Cabe, let's go,

but I'm done with your friends.

Pump your brakes before you
say something brilliant.

The truth is

his $80 million software

was beaten by a hat and sunglasses.

What did we say earlier
about a chain of command?

You need to follow it.

Okay.

This is illogical.

We have a much better chance
of finding that bomber

than Cabe does.

Okay, let's go.

That's not what Cabe wants.

All right, the bottom line is

Cabe wants this team to work,

so if we find the guy that
everyone's looking for,

we won't ever have to worry

about Director Merrick
shutting us down again.

All right?

All right.

The bomber could have had
a car waiting for him,

but a co-conspirator,
it increases the odds of capture.

Now there's a bus stop a street over,

but that gives people too
much time to see his face.

The plaza was full of people fleeing.

I mean, it was far too crowded
for anybody to even get through.

Is he right about this?

Normal mathematicians run probabilities,

the odds of a given set
of facts taking place.

Sylvester's mind runs all
potentialities, the odds

of almost any possible
scenario taking place.

That's incredible.

- That's Sylvester.
- That's Sylvester.

Bargain Nation. Okay, so,

he enters in the chaos.

He walks to the back,

and he exits out the loading dock.

Now he's three blocks away
with little public exposure.

That is his best play.

That's why we don't wait for Cabe.

All right, we're gonna do this ourselves.

Those stores take great close-ups

when you go in to prevent shoplifters.

They'll have him on camera.

Why would they give us a photo?

Because I lifted Cabe's badge.

- Oh, Toby.
- Oh, please.

The way you two were fighting this morning,

I figured we would have
gone rogue hours ago.

You should thank me for anticipating.

Now we have a close-up of our bomber.

That's still doesn't help us.

Hold on.

Hey, dude, are you done with that?

Okay, you look pretty done with that. Whoa!

Give me the photo.

This guy's got something to offer.

Lens effect.

Convex bottle and water to refract.

His key chain's a bottle
opener with something on it.

Is that a turtle in a racing helmet?

That's McAdoo's Tavern.

They have turtle races on Saturday nights.

I lost four grand there.

Word to the wise,

don't bet on Yertle McQuickShell.

She's misnamed.

What?

Hey.

We're, uh, looking for someone

who might be one of your customers.

You know the guy?

My shifts vary.

I'm in and out.

I don't really know a lot of the regulars.

Really? Because you stop cutting
lemon wedges when you answered.

You want to know why?

Because I had enough?

No, that's clearly not enough lemon wedges.

You stopped because the part

of your brain that handles the details

of small tasks like cutting lemon wedges

also engages when someone's creating lies.

“I'm in and out.
My shifts vary,” and so on.

I'm assuming you're lying
because you're on parole

like the majority of bartenders
working the day shift.

Your no-snitching criminal
code is only gonna result

in trouble that you don't want.

So why don't you answer our questions?

Hey, aren't you the guy who
lost a fortune on that turtle?

What I do when I'm off-duty is my business.

The fact that you're lying
means you know this guy

or where in town he might lay his head.

So go grab a pen and write it down,

or the next thing I'm
gonna pull out of my hat

is gonna be my cuffs. You got it, dish rag?

I know a waitress he took home one night.

I'll make a call.

You know you're not a cop.

You're a cop if you believe you're a cop.

Something's bothering you.

Yes, Walter, we're outside the
house of a possible terrorist.

You guys might not be the best people

to handle a situation like this.

And if I'm going to
translate situations for you

like you asked me to,

I think you're making a huge mistake.

You want me to call Cabe.

I will do it for sure when
we know the guy's in there.

Hold on a second.

I have a way to find out if he's in there.

Oh!

Oh, I like this idea.

Be right back!

- That's my money.
- Yes?

Hi, Ralph. How are you, sweetie?

Yeah, okay, I know there's no Internet,

but maybe spend recess outside
and play with the other kids.

Can you give me the phone, please?

Ralph occupy yourself with this.

I have a riddle for you to figure out.

You can tell your mom the
answer at the end of the day.

So, what kind of punch

does a jellyfish like?

You got it? Okay, cool.

All right, hold on one second.
Any dreams you have

of him making a team or
being in student council,

it's just, uh, not gonna happen.

I thought you told me
he'd eventually fit in.

No, he will, just not at school.

Ralph? Excuse me.

Hey.

She's very sweet.
I know you think she can help,

but purely from an analytical point of view,

what exactly is her purpose here?

Oh, take it easy.

Sylvester, come on, help me out here.

She's pretty.

Do I need to remind you guys that

when I found Happy, she was paying people

to be her stand-in at
fabrication competitions

because she can't stand to be judged?

When I first met you,

you were about to get beaten
by an Atlantic City pit boss,

and do we even need to discuss
the state that you were in?

It wasn't pleasant.

I-I saw something in you guys.

I see something in her.

She'll thrive at this job.

You just, you have to trust me.

Hold this.

I need a parabola.

Give me that tape!

That's the only thing

holding my seat together. I need the mic.

Here.

This umbrella is disgusting.

Okay, everyone quiet.

Footsteps.

Walter, you really need to call Cabe.

Hold on.

I think it's him.

Be cool, guys.

- Come on!
- Oh! Happy, Happy!

We can nail this guy! Happy, Happy!

Happy!

You do a loop around the
block and make sure that he

doesn't come under the bridge.
Paige, get in with me now.

Chasing bad guys

- isn't out thing.
- It is now!

No one will ever know if
we just don't do anything.

Goddamn it.

I'm right on your six,
you dumb son of a bitch!

There he is. We got him.

Walter, it's a dead end.

Dead end!

Halt! Stop!

There he is!

Oh, my God! He's got a gun!

Aah!
Get down, get down, get down! Aah!

Oh... oh, no...

Not good.

Blown pupil.

Spinal fluid coming out of
his nose. Comatose.

Well, the good news is we found the guy.

Really?

Is that good news?

'Cause I thought we might want
to question our only witness,

find out his agenda.

Where some more bombs might be.

But we can't do that when
the guy's in a damn coma.

Great job, Mensa.

Mensa?! Please.

There are porn stars in Mensa.

I will write all of you up

for hindering a Federal investigation.

You hitched your wagon to
some real stars, here, Gallo.

Thank you, Toby.

Hey...

Where the hell do you think you're going?

You're going to the suspect's
house to gather evidence,

I can help you.

If I want your help, I'll ask you for it.

You have the same look Ralph does

when he can't figure something out.

Right. All I know is that...

if the only suspect dies,
and we don't get

the whole story on what's going on,

then more people could get hurt
and that would be our fault.

I don't think this experiment
with Cabe survives,

and we need this.

The mentally-enabled don't
find a home this easily.

It's safe for us here, you know?

I overheard you and the guys
talking about me earlier...

Oh, they-they didn't mean anything by it.

I don't think you guys
say things you don't mean.

But I quit a job to be here.

I have a kid and bills and no other options.

Now, I heard you tell them that
you believe in me... well...

I believe in you, too,
but you guys don't listen.

You think you're always right

because you are almost always right,

but if you keep boxing me out,

like the cool kids on the playground,
then... you're correct...

this won't survive.

Would it buy them any good will

if I told you they know they screwed up?

Barely.

Bits and pieces from the guy's garage.

- Assume it's IEDs.
- I'll take a look.

Need a hand.

Bomber's computer.

It has some kind of security setup.

The only reason we're
getting a shot at this,

is 'cause Keeler's men couldn't
get through the firewall.

And it's important we do,

because the guy's fingerprints
aren't in the system,

and all five of his
aliases have come up empty.

All right, I'll get into it.

Craftsmanship on the wiring

indicates U.S. Special Forces training.

But there's only one reason
to have these other pieces.

And these things here...
are leftover sequencers.

But they were all set for some
time within the half hour,

all coordinated via local
frequency transmitters.

And what does that mean?

There are more bombs.

But they were all supposed to go off

in LA at the same time.

I think the bomb at One Wilton malfunctioned

and went off early, and more bombs

are coming down the pike real soon.

You think or you know?

I know.

He hit a mall,
a radio tower and an armored car.

I don't get it.

What he's doing is random.
It makes no sense.

- Um, guys...
- I've been to every one of these sights,

and I still don't see a pattern.

- Guys, maybe it isn't meant...
- See, it's terrorism without focus,

- and that's not how these guys work.
- Hey, I'm talking.

- We're trying to figure something out.
- Don't interrupt me, Toby.

The armored truck wasn't the target.

I was a cashier at a Pic 'N Save.

When the truck shows up depends on how much

extra cash double-coupon
Wednesdays brings in.

So it shows up at different times each week.

There's no way to plan bombing something

if you don't know when it'll be there.

So maybe he put the bomb in the garbage can

to take out that building, not the truck.

She might be right.

Remember when I said you'd thrive?

Feels good being right again.

So if the building was a target,

the next logical question is “why?”

Well, it has to be some business
in that building, right?

I'm gonna call Information.

That's a good idea.

Oh, afterwards, let's write on

one of those zeppelins I've heard about.

Yeah, hi.

My name is Federal agent Cabe Gallo,
badge number 2835.

I want to get a rundown

on all the numbers running from 939 Conklin.

Thank you.

Before computers, people had
to actually talk to each other.

Yeah, I'm ready.

Casperson Film and Print.

Lynchfield Printing... Greytech.

- Greytech... that's it. That's it.
- Thank you for your help.

Greytech specialize in slow storage servers,

places that hold old data
that's rarely accessed on-line,

like, uh... five-year- old
bank statements...

So he bombed the Internet hub
and then a slow server but...

that doesn't explain the other targets.

They're red herrings.

The bomber wanted his attacks

to appear random, to hide his real motive.

But what is it?

He's taking out sites where...

data would be stored long-term

and the ability to distribute it on-line,

so maybe the bomber's got a secret

he doesn't want getting out

and he's willing to blow
up the city to erase it.

There's an increasing
sense of panic in the city.

Traffic signals are still sporadic.

And now, overloading electrical transformers

have erupted into flames,

igniting several homes and a brush fire.

Director Merrick's all over my ass

because the damn city's falling apart.

I hope to God you're making progress

with the bomber's computer.

Oh, I am.

It shows a failed attempt

to hack into a file at a slow server.

Now, the file belonged to an e-mail account

by the name of Frank Turner.

Frank Turner died two weeks ago.

I printed out this article for you.

A hit and run?

More like “Hit and run”"

The car that actually killed
him was never even found.

But if someone is willing
to blow up buildings

to erase Frank Turner's files,

it has to contain something
very incriminating.

On someone very important.

But how in the hell do you erase a file

once it's on the Web?

Oh, it can be done.

You got it, right?

Right.

Okay. Yeah.

First, you'd need to destroy
the means of distribution.

He did that when he blew up
the building this morning.

Next... you need to get rid

of where it's stored... the slow server.

He did that when he blew up Greytech.

Now, if you want to get
really anal about it,

- you take out the router hub.
- What's that?

Most people don't know this,

but when you send a file on-line,

it sits at a small router

before moving on to a slow sever.

But even as it goes,
it leaves a copy of itself.

A shadow file.

And that remains for a few weeks,

and then... disappears.

Now, the problem is there's
thousands of router hubs,

but millions of files going in.

So we're tracing Frank Turner's IP address,

trying to track down the right router hub.

It's like looking for
a needle in a haystack.

I got it. And it's actually

more like trying to find a
needle in a pile of needles.

Ladies and gentlemen,

who wants to sew?

Because I just found that needle.

Frank Turner's IP address leads

to a router hub in sunny Tarzana.

Come on, follow me.

I just saved a whole bunch of people.

We find what's in that e-mail,

we'll know who wants to destroy it.

Exactly what are you looking for?

If we explained it to you,

your mind would melt into your socks.

It's official government business.

Just... give us some room.

Normals, huh?

No offense.

None taken.

Got it.

E-mail from Frank Turner to
a heavily encrypted account.

Whoa.

All right, “My name is Frank Turner.

I was a member of FSG...”

The agency Agent Keeler's with.

“In violation of
U.S. and international law,

“FSG, under Agent Thomas Keeler

“has been spying on the White House,

- the State Department..”"
- Stop right there.

So Keeler found out about this,
took Turner out,

and then went after that data.

Just copy it onto the drive.

I'll get it to the DOJ,
get a warrant to arrest Keeler.

That son of a bitch.

He brought you in just
to keep an eye on you.

- Keeler hired the bomber?
- A black ops ghost,

who couldn't be traced back to him.

Here's the file, Cabe.

FSG's a black budget funded operation.

They recruit out of the
CIA and the Special Forces.

They're
plugged in with no oversight.

- Happy, what are you doing?
- I just heard something.

What are you...? Happy?

Hey, hey, hey, hey...

- Oh, my God.
- Where's she going?

Hey, hey, hey... ...just be careful, okay?

Where's she going?

Guys, big problem.

It's mean-looking.

Enough plastique for this building

and the one next door.

Uh, based on the speed
of the blinking light,

and the acceleration of the beep,

I would say that we have approximately

five minutes and 31 seconds.

I thought said there's no chance
he'd choose this building.

He didn't.

There are no sequencers on this device.

It was put here recently.

Did someone tell Keeler
we were going to be here?

I told Merrick.

Yeah, who kept the FSG in the loop

because he doesn't trust us.

There's no time to call in the bomb squad.

All right, we're gonna have to
evacuate the building ourselves.

Have the maintenance
man pull the fire alarm.

That leaves the building 20% full.

They'll think it's a drill.

All right, then go floor to floor.

- But just keep an eye on time, okay?
- Uh-huh.

Cabe, you gotta get that drive

to the DOJ. If this place goes up,

it's the last existing version of the file.

- Sylvester, make sure he knows how to open it.
- Happily.

You're gonna need this to get into the DOJ.

Where'd you get that?

You dropped it.

Are there a lot of people

working for the government
like Agent Keeler?

It makes it kind of hard to trust officials.

He's a rarity.

There's no sense going around

terrified that the government's after you.

The file. Now.

I'll put a hole in your head.

You give me that file.

Okay, you want to get smart, huh?

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

Don't you move!

Everybody needs to exit!

- Guys, evacuate the building!
- This is not a drill!

- Come on, go, go go!
- Everybody get out of the building, now.

- Evacuate now!
- Hey, you guys!

- You need to run!
- This is not...

I can't defuse this.

We're down to 3:40, 39, 38...

This wiring is all jerry-rigged,

pure guerilla IED thinking.

Anything could trip it.

Well, if we don't run now, we're dead;

if we do run now,
everyone else left in the building is dead,

- so... any ideas?
- If it were 1840,

- we could drop it down a well.
- What about the roof?

No time.

Wait!

Janitor supplies.

Joint compound.

This bomb's gonna blow,

but we can lessen the impact.

If this, uh, janitor likes his grub salty,

we might be able to mute the bomb.

Salt speeds up the hardening process,

- but you gotta mix it in thoroughly.
- Ah! Ha ha!

Salt packets! We're in business.

Guys, hurry, hurry, hurry!

Get out of the building!

Sir, get out of the building!

Toby!

You're bleeding. You're bleeding.

Oh, my God. We gotta go.

If this works,

the blast will take out the garage,

but save the building.

Ah... we're down to a minute 30.

Here we go.

If the salt works,

it should harden pretty quick.

It'll mute the blast enough

to contain damage to this garage.

If it's not stirred until
it's hard as a rock,

it won't mute anything.

Happy, you gotta go find Paige and Toby.

Get 'em out of the building.

You got about a minute left.

I run when you do.

Do it now, okay?

I'm right behind you.

You better be.

We have seconds to get clear!

One in front of the other, dimwit.

In half a minute, this building goes.

Where's Walter?

He's coming. He promised.

Cabe...

I don't want to shoot anyone,

but I will if I have to!

And honestly, I don't know

who I'd hit, so, so please...

put the pipe down!

He'll get out.

He knows the time left.

Okay.

I still don't know what it is,
exactly, you do here.

But... I'm glad you're here.

You're welcome.

You could've left him in
the building, you know.

I'd be tempted.

Can you get anything from your computer?

No, it's ruined.

Blast destroyed and shredded the hard drive.

Thumb drive is dust.

So he erased all the evidence

that could tie Keeler to these bombings.

He might be in custody now,

but he'll be gone by morning.

What if someone knew that on December 17

Keeler and the U.S. Secretary of Defense

had a meeting about illegal
drone strikes in Pakistan

and Keeler recorded it to use as blackmail?

I'd say it's admissible evidence.

What-what are you getting at, son?

Sylvester was standing over my shoulder

when the unencrypted file scrolled through.

He memorized the whole thing.

It was almost 30 pages, though.

It only took a second.

There are a lot of
incriminating things in there.

Dirty things.

You're coming with me to Homeland.

We're getting what you know down on paper.

- Okay.
- We got Keeler.

He's going away.

Maybe Merrick'll back off a bit now.

Cabe... what about, um...

your doubts?

I want this to work.

I need it to work.

I wasn't promoted to Los Angeles.

I flamed out in New York,
after the Baghdad incident.

The thought of 2,000 civilians dying

and me carrying the blame...

I was a hair away from forced retirement

when I came up with the idea
to try to make cases with you.

So you thought that we would be

the jolt that your career needs?

I want some blood off my ledger.

So even though you may not trust me,

you should know

that I trust you so much

that I've put everything
into this team and you.

How would a normal person
react to what he just said?

Say “thanks,”

and you appreciate it.

Maybe next time.

My glucose level is plummeting.

I just called for a transport for Keeler.

We'll stop and get you a burger
on the way to Homeland, hero.

- We'll all get food.
- I can't.

I've got to pick up Ralph from aftercare.

Well, we'll all go.

- How was your day?
- Okay.

Hey, Ralph.

So... what kind of punch
does a jellyfish like?

A smack.

Because a group of them is called

a “Smack” of jellyfish.

You know a bunch of turtles is a “bale”?

Don't ever bet on them.

Hippos hang out in a “bloat.”

A pride of lions and a parliament of owls.

Army of ants.

You know, um...

what a family of scorpions is called?

A cyclone.

Now, scorpions are very
loyal to their cyclone.

But if one of them is attacked,

all the others dive in.

And we, all of us,

we're a cyclone.

This cyclone is hungry.

Let's get some food!

You know, eventually, uh, everyone fits in.

Ralph! This is our theme song!

sync and corrections by dreaMaker7
www.addic7ed.com