Original subtitles

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(crickets chirping)

(thunder rumbling)

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(electrical fizzling)

(ominous music)

(inhales)

(suspenseful music)

(alarm ringing)

- Vernon.

Hang in there, buddy.

- Bastards got my hat.

- I'm going after him. We have no choice.

- Listen. You'll live 48 and most, likely less.

I'm shutting it down.

(suspenseful music)

No!

(buzzing)

(fizzling)

(ominous music)

(dramatic music)

(city ambiance)

- [Radio Dispatch] Any available units.

Any available unit for a call.

- Shit.

- [Radio Dispatch] Any available unit

for a missing persons investigation.

4652 Farmdale.

(beeping)

- Shit.

- [Radio Dispatch] Any available unit, please respond.

- Seven Henry Three on route.

Copy call.

- [Radio Dispatch] Seven Henry Three, 10-4.

(radio buzzing)

- I'm a loser.

♪ When I found you, I knew in a flash ♪

♪ I'd have to give up my rambling past ♪

♪ Cause all I wanted to do was hold you tight ♪

(radio muting)

(wind howling)

- Evening.

- It's getting pretty cold out here.

Any chance we could hitch a ride into town?

- I have Smith and Wesson under my seat

and I ain't afraid to use it.

- [Female Officer] Has he ever done this before?

- No, no.

- Is anything missing or out of place?

- Yeah, this trunk wasn't here.

- Did he serve in the war?

- I think so.

He doesn't talk about it.

- Greatest generation.

Does he drive?

- No.

No.

- Is he on medication?

- [Nurse] Mhmm.

- Are they still here?

- [Nurse] I'll check.

- All right.

(somber music)

- His meds are gone.

- He has a plan.

(faint radio beat music)

♪ Living every day of the week like it was Saturday night ♪

- Where you fellas headed?

- Los Angeles.

We are going to Los Angeles.

- I'm only going as far as Santa Clarita.

- Not to worry.

I can drive.

(eerie music)

(fizzling)

(tires screeching)

(ominous music)

- I've never piloted anything like this before.

Feels like riding a wet slurbreck.

Unfortunately, this body lacks intelligence

beyond scratching lottery tickets.

I like the old body better.

Oh well.

Time to get off this shitty planet.

(foreboding music)

- Vernon?

- You one of them?

You here to kill me?

- Kim called us.

She's worried about you.

Can I have it, please?

One in the spout.

Off to war?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Come on, let's take you home.

- Trouble.

Trouble, trouble, troubles.

- You're not in trouble.

- I think we all are.

(foreboding music)

(eerie music)

(car whooshing)

- Shit.

- Much appreciated.

- My pleasure.

(security alarm beeping)

Tom?

Oh.

Hey, Rubes.

Good girl.

(thumping)

(sexual moaning)

- Oh shit!

Lisa!

I thought you were working lates.

Goddamn it.

Look, it's not what it looks like.

- Then explain.

- I didn't know, I swear, I had no idea.

- Really?

Dumb cow.

- Look, we were just talking after work, having drinks.

It just went a little far, all right?

I fucked up, okay?

Look, just talk to me.

(girl gasping)

Put the gun away.

- Stay away from me.

- Lisa!

Lisa, please stop!

Come on, Lisa, let me talk to you.

- You don't touch me.

- Okay, I get it, I fucked up, all right?

I get how you're feeling right now.

- You will never understand how I feel!

- Help me understand.

Help me.

(pop -- Taser ticking) (groaning)

- That's how I feel.

I want you gone by the time I get back.

All your shit.

Out of my house.

(sobbing)

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

(screaming)

Fucker!

(calm city ambiance)

(drumming beat music)

(dog barking)

(distant police sirens)

(dramatic music)

- I'm Special Agent Cooper Miller.

I need local cooperation to locate two persons.

- You have an officer in mind?

- I need someone who's athletic, diligent

and, uh...

mentally flexible with extensive knowledge of the city.

- Well, you're not picky.

What, somebody steal America's cup?

- This is a time sensitive matter.

- Look, you want somebody tough or smart?

- Both.

- Pick one.

Smart it is.

I have just the man.

Detective of the year two years running.

Over ten years in grade.

Highest closure rate in the unit.

Collared the Brentwood Bandits.

Special Agent Miller,

Detective McAdams.

Miller here needs some help tracking down

two persons of interest.

- Lieutenant, there's something we need to talk about.

- No.

Absolutely not.

- It wasn't a question.

- Look, Tom's a dick but that is no reason to throw away --

- Everybody knows?

What?

- Look, if you quit

they're going to say it's because of Tom.

Take a day or two and think it over.

Don't wanna be here anymore, I understand

but don't throw your career away for a prick like Tom.

- Fine.

(engine rumbling)

Are you gonna be a pain in my ass?

- No, ma'am.

- Then get in the car "G-Man."

(scoffing)

What's with the outfit?

We going sailing?

(chuckling)

(beat music)

(fizzling)

- Hey.

Big guy.

Hey.

Easy.

Easy.

(thudding)

(gunshot)

(gunshot)

Thanks.

(gunshot)

I wanted to be her.

- I hope you enjoyed that because we are back on mission.

- You have a plan, sir?

- I am working on one,

unless either of you have something to add.

That is why we leapt into the future.

We fly that back to the armada

and show them where this planet is.

Mission accomplished.

Heroes.

- Promise to kill every last one of these skin bags?

Good.

(foreboding music)

- Who are we looking for?

- Killers.

- My car.

- You are not what I expected.

- What did you expect, a man?

- You're good at reading people.

I have no issue with you being a woman.

- Me neither.

You're a married man, huh?

Lucky girl.

- I noticed you're, engaged.

- Nope.

(ominous music)

- What a piece of shit.

- [Lisa] What are their plans?

- [Cooper] Destroy as many lives as possible.

- Terrorists?

- Of sorts.

- How'd you get this deal?

- I was first on the scene.

- I don't smoke.

I don't have time for bullshit.

- [Radio Dispatch] Seven Henry Three,

per your request for fresh vehicle recoveries.

Check your screen.

- Seven Henry Three, thanks.

10-4.

- Amazing.

(foreboding music)

- We're changing tactics.

- Let's just kill them all.

- One at a time.

- We need to find people with specific skills.

Specific...

Skill...

Sific...

Skills...

- Seven Henry Three.

- [Radio Dispatch] Seven Henry Three, go ahead.

- Show me 10-7, please.

- [Male Officer] Seven Adam Two, requesting a want warrant check.

- [Radio Dispatch] Seven Adam Two, standby.

Seven Henry Three, roger.

I'll show you 10-7 out for investigation

on your previously run vehicle.

- 10-4, thanks.

- [Radio Dispatch] Seven Adam Two,

go ahead with your want warrant check.

(eerie music)

- V.A.

That's a break.

My partner's hat.

- Partner?

Is this personal?

- No.

This is a professional investigation

with a personal connection.

I will not let emotion get in the way, ma'am.

(eerie music)

- Can't be too far.

We should set up a perimeter.

- They're not coming back.

- How do you know?

- They use things up and throw them away.

- Let's get going.

(ominous music)

- Hey!

- What happened?

Can you hear me?

- Please help him.

- Call 9-1-1.

(menacing music)

- You're really good with that typewriter in the car.

- The computer?

- Right.

(girl screaming)

(suspenseful music)

(ominous music)

- Any ID on him?

- Clark Calhoon.

- That's the RO from the car.

- I saw the whole thing.

- What did you see?

- A jogger did CPR and then she just ran off.

- Which way did they go?

- That way.

- Seven Henry Three.

Have fire...

(suspenseful music)

Did you find the witness?

- Negative.

- All right, uniforms are setting up a perimeter

and the bus just left.

- He's dead.

There's nothing more we can do here.

- The paramedics detected some electrical activity

on the EKG.

- I assure you,

Mr. Calhoon has shuffled off this mortal coil.

(police sirens approaching)

- These guys have no record.

What's their M.O.?

What do they want?

- Someone call for homicide?

- Crap.

- Body's on route to Boyle Heights.

- Oh.

If it ain't dead yet it will be soon, huh?

Am I right?

(chuckling)

Hey, we haven't been introduced.

Detective Sergeant Tom Wilson.

- Special Agent Cooper Miller.

- Special, huh?

Hey,

you mind if I get a moment alone with my partner here, Coop?

- Yeah.

- It's Cooper.

- Cooper, sure.

What happened to "I only work alone."

- It's an assignment.

I don't answer to you.

- [Tom] You don't answer your phone either.

- [Lisa] Yeah, why should I?

- Look, I'm trying to apologize.

- For what?

There's nothing left to say.

- Give me a break.

- You are a liar, you're dishonest.

- I fucked up but don't act

like you're so innocent in all this.

- Oh what, are you accusing me of something now?

- Exactly, what about my needs?

- Oh, this is about your needs?

This is so typical.

You're such a fucking selfish prick!

- Lost cause, "look at me."

You know what, fuck you.

- There's no excuse for profanity.

Not in the presence of a lady.

(chuckling)

- Lady?

What the fuck do you know?

Piss off.

- Agent Miller, stand down please.

I can handle this.

- Better listen to your handler.

- Apologize to the lady.

- You know what, fuck you!

Fuck --

(groaning)

- I said, apologize to Detective McAdams.

- And I said fuck you!

(groaning)

- Apologize to the lady.

- Okay, all right.

I'm sorry.

Damn it, I'm sorry.

Okay?

Asshole.

(thump)

Fuck me.

(groaning)

Asshole.

- That ring you saw me throw out the window...

He gave that to me.

- If you don't mind me saying so ma'am,

you dodged a bullet with that one.

- Sure looks like it.

How'd it feel?

- Good.

(ominous music)

- What was I supposed to do?

- You did fine.

These bodies are flimsy.

We'll have to choose more carefully.

- You chose well this time.

The only thing on this planet better than eating

is fornicating.

- I prefer food.

Just a bit.

Maybe we can stay.

We can clean this planet up one pest at a time.

- No.

We kill them all and we wait for the fleet.

- I'm going to build a transmitter.

We'll send the armada our coordinates.

This is our new home.

(menacing music)

- Mmmm.

You're right.

It's delicious.

- I know.

That shit will kill you.

- Doctor's orders.

Lowers my stress.

(chuckling)

- Don't these people have known accomplices?

- Not anywhere around here.

- I must admit,

it's nice just having one case to focus on.

I'm usually working so many cases,

I hardly know the people I'm trying to help.

- That stinks.

- It does.

- Sorry about Tom.

- Don't apologize for him.

- You eat nails and shit bullets, don't you?

(suspenseful beat music)

The facial recognition software identified a Frank Sterling.

- Someone spotted him?

- A computer over at headquarters did.

- Right.

- Come on, we gotta go.

(suspenseful music)

(ominous music)

- Mr. Jackson.

- Can I help you?

- The paper you wrote on extraterrestrial signal

isolation and amplification was great.

- Well, thank you.

And who might you be?

- I'm you.

(menacing music)

(man yelling)

- How'd you end up doing this?

- Missing persons?

- Cop.

I mean,

what would draw a woman to this line of work.

- You rather I'd be home barefoot and pregnant?

- That's not what I meant.

What's with the barefoot thing?

I never understood that.

- When you're pregnant, your feet swell.

You know, I hate to shatter your delusions

but I am perfectly capable of doing my job.

There is an Air Force study that found

that women are actually better pilots than men.

- There.

(foreboding music)

Gun it!

(suspenseful music)

Cut him off!

(ominous beat music)

(suspenseful music)

(rustling)

(dishes clinking)

(ominous music)

(suspenseful music)

(creaking)

- Come on.

Hands up.

- You're making a mistake.

- Turn around.

Turn around.

- I'm gonna be pretty.

- Hands behind your back.

(thud)

(fizzling)

- I'm going to be pretty.

(thud)

(gunshot)

(eerie music)

(suspenseful music)

(foreboding music)

- That was a crap-tacular night, huh?

Get my head crushed,

your suspects get away.

- Pull over.

In through your nose, out through the mouth.

- Yeah, I know how to breathe.

- I know the shakes.

Get out of the car.

Trust me.

(sighing)

Jumping jacks.

- What?

- 50, now.

- Seriously?

(chuckling)

Hey!

What are you doing?

- I don't have the shakes.

That's 20.

- But.

- Faster!

Faster!

Faster!

Faster!

Faster!

Good.

- I'll be damned.

- Can we check a few more places?

Before we call it a night.

Please?

- Sure.

(ominous music)

- Are you sure?

- I think so.

It's kinda hard to tell.

He shot me in the friggin' head.

- What's going on?

- Agent Miller is here.

Maybe.

- Here?

Now?

- I think he shot me in the head.

- Time to connect.

(fizzling)

(eerie music)

I can't tell if that was him or not.

All right, we need to hurry up.

If that was him,

that tenacious bastard will turn up eventually.

- [Lisa] We can't keep running all night.

What do you say we catch a few hours, huh?

- You're not gonna lend me your car, are you?

- Where are you staying?

Ah...

- Hollywood Hilton.

- You know, you can crash at my place.

- That's awfully nice of you but I'll be all right.

- [Lisa] I have a perfectly comfortable couch

and you are welcome to it.

- Thanks.

- Mhmm.

(security alarm beeping)

It's a small place but --

- Sure beats a motel.

- I bet.

Hey, girl.

Make yourself at home.

(soft Jazz plays)

- Do you have any Nat King Cole?

- Am I black?

Wanna beer?

- Sure, thanks.

- Let's catch a couple of hours

and get back at it in the morning.

Sofa down there is a pullout.

- Appreciate your hospitality, ma'am.

I mean, Lisa.

- Thanks for shooting that guy in the head.

Night.

(clock ticking)

(eerie music)

(fizzling)

(screams echoing)

(ominous music)

- Cooper Miller, Special...

(suspenseful beat music)

Who are you?

1947?

(yawning)

(food sizzling)

- Found the bacon in the freezer.

Flower's a little old but I think it will be okay.

Couldn't find your coffee

but I hope you like the way I made your tea.

- It's perfect.

Thanks.

(ominous music)

- The other day you wondered who would marry me.

Her name was Virginia.

She died in a plane crash.

- Sorry about that.

- She was a B-17 instructor.

Suit gave me away, right?

- That and the hotel you're staying at,

the Hollywood Hilton,

doesn't exist.

- You're not gonna find me on that computer thing either.

- You're from 1947?

- 1951.

- Who are you?

- My name is Cooper F. Miller,

United States Army Intelligence Corp.

On my base we housed a small group of extraterrestrials.

- Aliens?

- Three of them escaped through an experimental time portal.

I chased them here.

- Who's your president?

- Harry S. Truman.

- Who won the World Series?

- Last year?

Yankees in four.

- Last movie you saw.

- Sunset Boulevard.

(ominous music)

- These aliens are monsters, parasites.

Looking for a host like you or me.

Before they could communicate what they had learned,

we captured them.

- We?

- My partner and I.

They killed him when they escaped.

(eerie music)

At least put the safety on.

- I don't believe you.

- Believe me or not,

I'm dead in 24 hours

and these monsters go free and then everyone dies.

I can't do this alone.

- Every instinct in my body tells me you're lying.

But I don't trust those anymore.

(somber music)

- Here, eat this.

- Seriously?

- It's for your own protection.

- Hmmm.

It's definitely the man I chased in the alley yesterday.

- You didn't call the FBI shoot team.

- How long until that becomes a problem?

- Any minute now.

- Oh, darn.

(knocking)

- [Lisa] We're here about

the missing persons report you filed.

- Ma'am.

- What is your husband's area of research?

- He's best known for his work

on astrophysics and particle theory.

- What was his...

is his passion?

- Meredith, we're here to help Ted.

Sometimes every little piece of information

makes a difference.

- He worked for SETI for many years.

Broke his heart when they shut it down.

- SETI?

- "Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence."

- You're kidding.

(ominous music)

Thanks, ma'am.

- Is my husband going to be okay?

- I will do everything in my power to find him.

(somber music)

He's dead, right?

- Afraid so.

- Damn.

What's wrong?

- Pins and needles.

Doc Opp said this could happen.

You were really great in there, you were kind.

- I've made too many promises I couldn't keep.

I don't do that anymore.

- What do they want with him?

He can't build them a ship.

(eerie music)

- They're not trying to get home.

They're trying to call home.

- All they would have to do is send a location.

That would be bad.

- So these aliens we're chasing,

are they the only ones out there?

- You really wanna know?

These are the only bad ones we've found.

Remember the crash in 1947, Roswell?

There is an alien race called the Greys.

Only one survived.

Little guy we named Albert.

- After Einstein?

- Albert the janitor.

He liked to drink the water from the mop bucket.

- Oh.

- Army doctors nursed him back to health as best they could.

Military built an underground facility for him.

Albert was the most gentle creature I have ever known.

The aliens we're chasing were sent to this planet

to destroy Albert.

We stopped them but they escaped.

We think they were after him because

he showed us incredible technology we could use

to protect our planet.

- Time travel.

- Bingo.

- Wow, okay.

- Forget about the alien stuff.

Imagine there' a bomb underneath this city

and these three are the bomb makers.

Doesn't matter who they are or where they're from.

We have to stop them.

What are you thinking?

- What do you need to make a transmitter?

- Components, parts.

- Surplus stores.

They'd have to steal the parts.

Or rob a bank.

- We need to track down that Doctor's credit cards.

- Can you find that here?

- I can't.

Oh shit.

This is going to hurt.

(laughing)

- What can I do for you?

You talk to IA yet?

- Not yet.

- I though they were --

- Don't think.

It's not your strong suit.

Got what I asked for?

- Didn't realize I'd be doing this

for "Captain Cheap Shot" over there.

- Glass-jawed pansy.

- You know what, screw this noise.

(car engines starting)

(honking)

- What do you want?

- Another chance.

Shut it, G-man.

- Dinner?

- And?

- No Tasers?

(laughing)

- That's it.

I emailed the transactions to you.

Later fucktard.

(dramatic music)

(entry bell ringing)

- Hello?

You recognize this man?

- Not without a warrant, dude.

- This man and his accomplices are terrorists.

- I heard that one before.

- He deserves the truth.

I'm Special Agent Lisa McAdams.

This is Special Agent Cooper Miller.

We're working an X-File.

This man is an alien.

(chuckling)

- Aliens.

Really?

- We need your help.

- Really?

Awesome.

Um, okay.

Well, I haven't seen that guy before

but I did sell a transmitter.

A lady bought one.

It was weapons grade.

I thought it was odd.

- Last piece of the puzzle.

- Holy shit, I'm like the Lone Gunmen, right?

(chuckling)

There she is.

Wow, that chick was an alien.

That's so hot.

Wow.

- Do you have any cameras on the parking lot?

- That's strange, man.

- Well do you have any other cameras outside?

- Bam.

- I'll be darned.

- She's on foot.

She can't be that far.

- Wait.

You mean these things are somewhere around here?

Holy fuckin' awesome sauce.

- If these creatures got wind that we were on to them,

you can't imagine what they could do.

- Oh, I think I could.

- Thank you for your cooperation.

(suspenseful music)

What the heck is an X-File?

(ominous music)

Excuse me, ma'am?

My apologies, ma'am.

(foreboding music)

(ominous music)

- Kid, get lost!

- Take it, asshole, it's heavy.

Connect it to the duplexer and grab me a phone.

That was Cooper you saw.

He's getting way too close.

(ominous music)

- How far do you think she could've walked?

- Not much father than this.

What are those towers there?

- LA DWP power station.

That's it.

Power.

- We're right on top of those little bastards.

- Remember what I told you.

- I'd like to speak to the officer

in charge of the disappearance of Doctor Ted Jackson.

I have important information.

- You want her commanding officer.

Tell them these are exigent circumstances.

- Yes.

I'll hold for Lieutenant Jenkins.

(phone ringing)

- Jenkins.

- You like it here?

- LA?

It's growing on me.

- Like a fungus?

No, I mean do you like it here, now?

- Once I've figured out how to open a pack of smokes,

things improved quickly.

(Lisa chuckling)

I'm getting worse.

(dramatic music)

- Maybe there's a way back.

- I knew this was a one way trip when I signed up.

(coughing)

Running out of time.

If something happens, you have to stop them.

Promise me.

- I promise.

(police siren approaching)

- [Radio Dispatch] Any available unit.

Please respond to Seven Henry Three's last known location.

Alley north of Wilshire, east of Fairfax.

Possibly in the company of an armed suspect

impersonating a Federal Agent.

- [Radio Officer] Seven Adam Ten responding.

- Seven Adam Two, on scene.

- [Lieutenant] He's a nutcase.

51-50 all the way.

Claims to be an Army Officer

from at secret base in the Mojave.

Came through time to track down three aliens.

- I know how it sounds.

- He told you and you believed him?

Tell me I'm hearing things.

- Look, when that guy grabbed my head,

I felt something.

It wasn't natural.

It wasn't!

- The guy escaped from an institution in Seattle.

They're coming down to pick him up.

I talked with his doctor.

- Did you call this doctor or did this doctor call you?

Did you even verify his credentials?

- Christ on a bike, do you hear yourself?

Go home.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic piano music)

- It's the same stuff.

Virginia Miller,

pilot.

"Virginia Miller, nee Armstrong

"was killed during a tragic training accident

"when her B-17 crashed just north of Alamogordo Army Airfield.

"She is survived by her husband, Cooper,

"and brother...

"Vernon?"

You're not in trouble.

- I think we all are.

(dramatic music)

- If the Doctor only knew what he had accomplished here.

He was definitely on the right path.

Let's start charging now.

We should be ready to send signals around midnight.

(electrical fizzling)

- Hey, come in.

- So how's Vernon doing?

- He was really restless today.

He's finally asleep.

- Has he ever mentioned a Cooper Miller to you?

- No.

- [Vernon] What about Cooper?

- Hey, Vernon, Detective McAdams, remember me?

- You know him.

Pick him out.

- Right there.

- I'll be damned.

He was a big brother to me.

After my sister's accident,

he took me to work with him in the Mojave.

- He thinks you're dead.

- He's here?

You know where he is?

He's a good man.

Help him.

You have to stop them.

(ominous music)

- Lisa! (gasping)

I apologize.

I was worried about you.

I heard what happened.

- How'd you find me?

- I tracked your phone.

- You're such an asshole.

- You should've been done hours ago.

What are you working on?

- What's it to you?

- Everything.

(thud)

(eerie music)

(fizzling)

(groaning)

- Salt?

That won't last long.

(fizzling)

(smack)

(Taser clicking)

(eerie music)

(suspenseful music)

(car speeding away)

- Where the hell is he?

- Knowing him,

enjoying herself.

(football game on television)

(doorbell ringing)

- What the hell happened to you?

Who's that?

- Cooper's partner.

Cooper's partner from 1951.

- Has everybody drank the Kool-Aid?

- Look, Lisa is in deep shit, we have to find her.

- Did you call her?

- My phone is gone, I can't.

- I'll call her.

Voicemail.

- Damn it.

- Yeah, this is Lieutenant Jenkins, I need to get --

I just authorized what?

- What?

(somber music)

- You look sharp.

- Thanks.

For trusting me.

- What can I say?

I wanted to be right.

(groaning)

You okay?

- I'll be all right.

- Fine.

We've gotta go, come on.

(suspenseful music)

- Tell me you found them.

They found me.

Now we find them.

- Do you have a plan?

- They're expecting me.

Stay.

You'll blow my cover.

(ominous music)

(eerie music)

It's done.

- Good.

That bitch was annoying.

- Tell me about it.

- Is it ready?

- Seven minutes.

(ominous music)

Let's connect in case anything happens.

- Good idea.

- Something wrong?

(suspenseful music)

(thudding)

(gunshot)

- Cooper!

(thud)

- Go get her.

(ominous music)

(eerie music)

- Are you going to shoot me?

- Put them on.

(humming tune)

(eerie music)

- You're gonna shoot a little girl?

How would you explain that?

- She's not a child.

She's a monster.

- We take her alive.

- She's already dead.

(police sirens approaching)

I'll finish it.

- No.

No!

- Lisa!

Whoa, whoa, it's me.

It's me, not one of them.

(ominous music)

(Taser clicking)

- Lieutenant Jenkins, tase her!

Tom, get in here!

Tom, get in there!

(Tasers clicking)

- What happened?

The machine!

- The transmitter!

Keep an eye on her.

(suspenseful music)

- You okay?

(machine buzzing)

(suspenseful music)

(buzzing)

(gunshot)

(gunshot)

(buzzing)

(gunshots)

(fizzling)

(computer beeping)

You did it.

(foreboding music)

- 60 seconds?

Cooper?

Get her out of here as fast as you can.

- It's okay.

(machine humming)

(chiming)

They saw my thoughts. I saw theirs.

(hopeful music)

- Vernon?

- I thought we lost you.

- Ditto.

- I missed you.

But it's time to go home.

He opened the portal for 10 minutes

at 7 AM everyday for a week.

Had to point a gun at him but the son of a bitch did it.

(foreboding music)

(dramatic music)

(groaning)

- Come on!

Come on.

(dramatic music)

Come on.

(gasping)

(buzzing)

Go!

No, no, no, no, no!

(groaning)

(whooshing)

(thud)

(sighing)

Cooper?

- Welcome to 1951, doll.

(triumphant music)

- We'll do everything we can.

- Is he gonna make it?

- I don't know.

No one's ever been in another time space that long before.

What I can tell you, though, is that nothing,

and I do mean nothing,

survives outside its own time space.

So your only chance of survival is to return

and I mean quickly.

Listen, awhile back we sent an orangutan through.

Upon his return he survived a couple days

until he began aging very rapidly.

- So Cooper's?

- Well, on the other hand,

I do have these little fellows.

(flies buzzing)

These are my test pilots.

One journey forward and then back.

Seven years ago.

Surely you know the life expectancy of a fruit fly.

We need to get you home.

(electrical humming)

No one else needs to die.

Cooper will explain.

Tell Cooper I said

thank you.

(fizzling)

(dramatic music)

- Figured you might need a ride.

- You?

- I've been waiting for 64 years,

you know I'm not very patient.

- You are so --

- They figured out what happened with the fruit flies.

The longer you stay out of time, the longer you live.

You gonna resign?

- Maybe.

Why?

- I know an off book agency

that could really use someone with your skills.

- It's really nice.

- I figured that typewriter computer thing

might be pretty popular.

So I invested every penny I had.

(engine rumbling)

(exciting music)

(woosh)

(somber music)

(dramatic music)