All language subtitles for Scorpion - 1x15 - Forget Me Nots.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.

I'm just saying,
I don't think it's cheating.

Reverse it. Put her
in the same situation.

Is it cheating now?

Damn.

It is cheating.

That's what I'm saying.

Bluehawk's a go!
Code confirmed.

Target...

target sequence
confirmed!

What the hell, man?

We never even got
a message order!

SAC, this is Silo 61.

We got birds ready
to leave the nest.

Is this coming from you?

Time sequence complete.

Missiles One through Five
enabling sequence commenced!

I don't care
if wasn't unauthorized!

The damn system here
thinks it is.

Six through Ten
commenced!

I can't override!

SAC, we need a solution now.

Someone's about to prep
our missiles for launch.

♪ ♪

If he gets this strike,

Tobias Curtis,
the kid from Coney Island,

will win the PBA championship

with a stunning perfect game.

Today, Earl Anthony.

How the hell do you know
who Earl Anthony is?

You're, like, 20.

22. Now go.

40 feet from glory.

Ah, ah, ah...!

Ah...!

Aah!

Oh, my appendix.

You impressed?

Uh, Doc?
Glory denied.

No. No, no, no.

That box

is holding it up.

All pins must fall.
Dem's da rules.

I call shenanigans
and tomfoolery.

What is that?

Just something
I've been working on.

It's cold, hard metal,
but it's somehow

so delicate and...
so beautiful.

Show is over.

Andrew.

It's Drew, actually.

Right.

Drew's short for what?
Michael?

Hey.

Ralph's in the back.
Before we get him,

I, um, I want to
show you something.

What's up?

I picked this
up when I was

trying out for the
Portland Sea Dogs.

It's a school
for gifted children.

Uh, why are you
showing this to me?

I never said
I was moving to Portland.

I know. Of course.

I just...
I meant it when I said

I wanted to provide
options for you and Ralph.

I want you to push me down
the ramp this time, Sylvester!

More normal options.

I-I'm not trying
to push you.

I just wanted
you to have

as much data as possible,

so that you can make
an informed decision...

if and when I get the call to pitch.
Okay.

I'll take a look at it.

If that wasn't
clamped down,

it would've gone right
through that wall.

Cool!

School time, pal.

Okay.
Enjoy the science fair, buddy.

Is there some rule against
baking soda volcanoes?

No, it's the go-to

for parents that can't think of

anything more stimulating.

O... Kay!

Drew, he can't be late.

And you, good luck.

There's, uh,
no such thing as luck,

only good science and math.

You could be nicer.

He wants Ralph to enter

a project made of...

...papier-mâché
and baking ingredients.

What is that?

"The Andersen P. Wollock
School for Gifted Children.

Portland, Maine."

It's just...
Drew thought, for Ralph...

It's super preliminary,
I'm just...

I'm just doing my research.

Right.

I mean, the odds of
us ever moving...

This is where our life is.

But a special school...
could be good for Ralph.

What do you think?

Portland is cold.

That's it?
And wet.

There's a slight chance
we might be moving there,

and that's all you have
to say on the matter?

You don't want to hear
my thoughts on the matter.

Really?

No, I... I think I do.

I think there's
no logical reason

why you should be
taking that boy

3,000 miles away from his home.

No logical reason?

What about the fact
his dad might move there

and I think two parents
might benefit Ralph?

Well, what daytime talk show
did you hear that on?

Most people would take that
as an insult, Walter,

but I know you don't communicate
like normal people,

so I'm going
to give you a pass.

But I also know
that you didn't have

an ideal relationship
with your father,

but that doesn't mean

Ralph shouldn't have a chance.

Drew is an adolescent.

He plays a game for a living.

He's Ralph's dad!

That is mere biology.

It takes more than fathering
to be a father.

By the time Ralph is 18,

he'll probably have
to take care of Drew.

You asked me for my thoughts
on the matter.

I gave them to you.

Fine.

Hey!

How come a bunch of geniuses
can't answer the phone?

I don't carry
my phone on me.

You know... Radiation.

I was welding.
Mine's in my bag.

Couldn't hear it
over the rocket.

Of course.

What about you, Doc?

I keep mine off.
I owe a bookie.

Turn it on.

Now gear up.

Director Merrick wants us
at Homeland, stat.

Let's roll.

There was an attempted hack

of a vital federal institution
yesterday morning.

Unsuccessful but barely.

Our techs have been trying
to find the perpetrators,

along with CIA and FBI,

but we want your expertise.

What federal institution?
That's need-to-know.

Was it one facility
or multiple targets?

That's need-to-know.
I need to know

why you're being so jerky.

Zip it.

We have half a hack here.

The redactions
on this screen-shot

cut off data that would

let us know what the culprit
was going after.

Not your concern.

I just need you
to backtrack

and find out
who's responsible.

Rest is classified.

Cabe, do you know
what's going on?

I do, but I'm not
at liberty to divulge.

Just start hitting the keys
and see what you find out.

Sure thing.

There.

- That's better.
- Hey!

What the hell
do you think you're...?

Hold on, this is military.

Someone was trying
to hack a nuclear silo.

That's enough.
Horse is already out of the barn, sir.

Okay. Fine. Now you know.

Hey, you spoke
before exhaling.

That's called subliminal
Carson-Proxy.

You withhold breath,
you withhold information.

What else are you
keeping from us?

Missile locations
are coded one through 50

to signify what
state it's in.

However, the un-redacted

cipertext notes 61.

There's not 61 states,
which means that...

We keep secret nukes
on foreign land.

It's logical.

Our allies want protection,

we want weaponry
close to our enemies.

Oh, let me guess:
uh, Philippines...

Finland... Iceland...

He blinked at Iceland.

Iceland.

So...

how much time
do we want to waste

before you tell us what
we'll just figure out?

16 years ago, Milosevic
had his sights on Kosovo.

The U.S. had to step in
to prevent a slaughter.

But because of political
reasons, we knew we had to do

this one OTR.
On The Real?

Off The Record.

Clinton met with

the Kosovan
president secretly

to set up plans for military aid
far beyond what went public.

This is
a clandestine sit-down

at a small Burbank motel.

This is confiscated
security footage from that day.

The shooter tried
to take out both leaders.

The hit was presumably
by Milosevic loyalists

in the Kosovan government

who spilled the beans
about the OTR.

Hold on.
There was an attempt

on Clinton
no one knows about?

Actually, 28 people know.

Now, 33.

During the melee,
Clinton was whisked off,

a Kosovan guard was killed

and a Secret Service agent,
Bruce Jones,

who was carrying the football,

was shot in the chest.

And then it went missing?

Not good.
What's "the football"?

It's a briefcase that
follows POTUS everywhere.

It's cuffed to
the Secret Service.

It has the
locations of our

hidden silos
around the world

and a detonator
the president can use

to activate a remote launch.

Doctors had to remove

the case from Bruce's
wrist to operate.

What did they do with it?

Deposed medical staff said
they put it on the ground

next to the gurney while they
were triaging the patient.

So if someone took the football,

they would have the detonator
and launch codes.

Codes were changed
immediately,

but the location
of our hidden arsenal

would remain in the hands

of whoever had possession
of the football.

Our theory was that

the shooting
served as a subterfuge

to get to the football.

But years passed
without incident.

So we assumed it was lost,

tossed away accidentally
in all the disorder.

Until this hack attempt.

Whoever has it...

has waited 16 years
for their capabilities

to advance to where
they could hack into the system

and dupe it into believing

accurate launch codes
had been entered.

They came so close today.

They won't be denied,

because they know
the devastation they can cause.

Once a missile's
prepped for launch,

all that's left is to press
the football's remote button.

No one can track this
back to the terrorists in time.

Not even us.

So the only shot
is to find the football,

so even if they do hack

a missile silo, they won't have
access to the launch button.

It's been 16 years.

What makes you think that
we can find the football now?

Well, Mr. Negative... for
starters, you have a witness.

That agent who caught a bullet.

According to this report,

it says he saw "shapes of people
running around the hospital"

before going under for surgery.

And that helps us how?

It's a sign that there's
a memory in there.

You never lose memories,

just the ability to access them.

Did you go
to Harvard Medical School?

Okay. Let's go.

Eh, don't forget
your keys, boss.

Nice catch.

How do you stand
working with them?

They're an acquired taste.

Despite him looking normal,

you need to be prepared.

His symptoms are
like those of dementia--

confusion, short-term
and long-term memory loss,

outbursts, anti-social
behavior, aggression...

I can't blame the guy.

He's former military,

charged with protecting
the president--

now he lives here?

Get out of here, lady!

Oh, my God.

He's in a mood today.

That better be pudding.

What do you jerks want?

Copy that.

NORAD's detected an ongoing
hack attempt right now.

How's hacking
Bruce's brain going?

Well, Toby's tried hierarchal
inference techniques,

recall exercises--

He's down to
parlor tricks now.

Counting down.

Three, two, one.

We're awake.

You're back at the hospital.

The shooting just happened.

Images around you
are getting clearer.

There's people
near the football.

Now tell me what you see.

I... see...

...you got lips like a girl.

That's it, I'm done
with this guy.

Let me hit him with a wrench.

Maybe it'll jar
something loose.

Take it easy.

He's sick.

Bruce, you said
you'd try to remember.

What do you remember, Pops,
the Alamo?

I'm starting to
like Happy's plan.

I got to go, I got a briefing
with Clinton in an hour.

Walter, this is cruel.

He still thinks
he's in Secret Service.

Exactly.

That means he still has access
to that time in his life.

And there might be a way
to get him more lucid

to remember it all,
but it is... it is dangerous.

More dangerous
than a nuclear bomb?

The research that I have been
doing for my sister has led me

to some incredible papers
on extreme transcranial

direct current stimulation.

You want to juice the guy?

What do you mean, "juice him"?

Apply this high-level
electric current

to certain areas
of his brain to kick it

to a substantially higher
function level.

It makes people,
for a few hours,

a much better version
of themselves--

their brains
more genius-like--

works faster--
and so do their bodies.

If there is a memory
inside Bruce that can help us,

it might help to give it

a little... jolt.

I don't think Mr. Jones
is in any condition

for something like that.

You look like my Aunt Philomena.

Take me home.

What if one of us goes first,

to show you it's safe?

Bruce, you are a patriot.

We're trying
to catch terrorists.

Okay, great--
Toby, I'll go first.

Hell, no.

Your neurons are packed
so densely,

they could permanently fuse.

Then jump-start me.

This is effectively
experimental

and definitely reckless,

especially to someone in
Bruce's condition and to you.

We have no choice.

There's a nuclear silo
under cyber-attack.

Finding the football is
the only shot to stop a launch.

So wire me up.

Is that a car battery?

It's AAA approved,
so if we kill you,

you get a free tow
to the morgue.

Okay,

these electrodes
will cause

your neurons' resting membrane
potential to depolarize,

which allows for
spontaneous cell firing.

In short, your brain
is gonna work better.

Or not at all.

All right, we're ready,
so here we go.

Happy?

I'm not turning this thing on.

It could end up being
a criminal act.

You're the mechanic.
You're the doctor.

Oh, for Pete's sake.

Remind me not to put you

in charge of my living will.

O-O-Okay.

I am gonna turn you up...

now.

Somebody should be saying
this is crazy, right?

'Cause it is.

Gonna start you
at 500 milliamps.

Yep, yep.

Feel that.

Sorry.

It was just a tingle,
it's all right.

Now I'm gonna
charge you up to 1,200.

Okay, I think that's
been long enough.

You okay?

Yeah, there's a buzzing
in my head,

and there's a taste
of metal in my mouth.

Yeah, those are
normal side effects.

Nothing normal about this.

All right, I'm gonna
slowly dial you down now.

Well, Bruce,

the good news is--

I'm alive.

The bad news is--
it didn't do anything.

Cabe, think fast.

Welcome to us.

♪ Scorpion 1x15 ♪
Forget Me Nots
Original Air Date on January 19, 2015

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

You're wheeled
in on a gurney.

Triage nurses are
barking orders.

One line of saline, wide open!

Remove this case for me
so I can get the I.V. in.

Then they remove the football
to run an arterial line.

Little bit sluggish.
Let's get him on the monitor.

Someone picked it up.

Hey, don't cut off
the juice, yet.

You're just starting
to see stuff.

Any more than that in a
three-day period could be fatal,

especially for him.

What exactly did you see?

I saw a man...

w-with a blue finger.

Regular hand, b-but...

one blue finger.

Like "my pen exploded
in my hand" blue,

or like Papa Smurf blue?

I don't know, Cupcake,
it was, uh, it was blue.

Bluish.

I didn't see his face.

There's too much
stuff coming at me.

What the hell
did you guys do to me?

Mapplethorpe?

Wait, uh, what's that
supposed to mean?

Was it... Was there
a Mapplethorpe print

on the wall?
Near the thief?

I don't know.

I'm so confused.

The procedure can cause
neural backfires,

these quick memory flashes,
visuals, sounds--

it might be more intense
for someone with your condition.

Give it time.

Okay, leave him alone
for a beat.

Why don't you come over here.

What the hell does he mean,
a guy with one blue finger?

Well, it's probably
not a glove design.

It was 70 degrees the
day of the shooting.

No one was wearing
hand gear.

According to the report
Merrick showed us,

there were eight
Kosovan bodyguards,

eight Secret Service,
two presidents,

so almost 20 people
running around, diving.

So in the mad scramble
after the shooting,

someone might have hurt
their hand.

A bruised or broken finger
could appear discolored.

We need to see the hospital
records from that day.

If someone got
a busted finger

and got medical treatment,
that's our guy.

Since this was an OTR,
that would mean

all the hospital records
would have been confiscated

by the Feds, but we'd still
have copies at Homeland.

Paige, you stay here,
make sure he's okay.

Happy, you're the
toughest on the team.

You hang back in case Bruce
gets worked up again.

Let's go.

What, these are all
off-the-record maneuvers

no one knows about?

We don't digitize it

so guys like
you can hack in.

I hate government.

Then don't cash your
federal paycheck.

Knee fractures,
forearm abrasions,

head sutures, no hand injuries.

Merrick texted.

NORAD estimates that
the hackers will be in control

of the silo's mainframe
in less than two hours.

Um, Cabe...

if the hackers do end up

launching, like,
a bunch of missiles,

will we, you know,
get a heads up?

Because I got to figure
that L.A. is a target,

and I would not fare well
in an apocalypse.

This is weird.

Secret Service Agent
Khara was given

nitroglycerin for
a preexisting heart condition

aggravated
by the shooting incident.

Yeah, that's protocol
for cardiac episodes.

Yes, but people with heart
conditions can't be

in the Secret Service,
so why'd he lie to his doctor?

Think I know.
Where you going?

I can find out if Agent
Khara's our thief.

I just need a bucket
of ice water.

So what's it take for a guy

to get something
to eat around here?

Thanks, honey.

I know he's sick, but if
he calls me "honey" again,

I am gonna clock him.

Take a breath.

You and, uh, Drew are
moving to Portland?

Toby eavesdropped again.

No opinion on the matter?

Well, Portland's cold.

That i...

Th-That is the same useless
information Walter gave me.

Okay, facts
aren't useless.

They're the foundation
of rational thought.

And I think Ralph
will be bored there.

Uh, well, you know,
I think...

I think you geniuses
hide behind

a pile of facts and figures

when you don't want
to engage in something...

unpleasant, like the idea
of Ralph and me leaving.

The more something
bothers or scares you,

the more you hide
behind data.

Your sandwich is ready.

Good talk.

Bruce?

Bruce...?

Uh, Happy...

we may have a problem.

What's going on?

He's gone.

You lost him?

I was making a sandwich.

Where is this guy?
I gotta go.

What?!

Go where?

Dodge City, Kansas.

To the bathroom.
I got my hand in ice water.

That only works
with warm water.

I'm about to disprove that myth
all over your leather interior.

Homeland tracked the guy's
cell to this block.

He'll turn up soon,
just be patient.

Wow.

Colors are so vibrant.

That's because the
recharge we gave you

has the electrical impulses
hitting the visual cortex

of your brain faster
than it has in decades.

Oh. Oh, oh, oh,
there he is, there he is.

Hey, hold this.

Hey, Nalin!

Nalin Khara, right?

Hey, it's Tobias Curtis.

I worked with your brother
back in DC.

Hi.
Hey.

What are you doing?

I'm dropping
your hand temperature.

Let go.
No...

Let go of my hand. - No.
Let go of my hand!

Cabe! Cabe!
Let go of my hand!

Agent Gallo, Homeland Security.

Let this man hold your hand.

What the hell?

Don't worry, it doesn't mean
we're going steady.

And...

Oop, we're done.

What's wrong with you, man?

More like,
what's wrong with you?

You got Raynaud's
phenomenon.

Vessel spasms that constrict
blood flow to a digit,

creating that blue hue...

that's triggered by direct cold
and stressful situations.

Like stealing a very
important briefcase.

Your condition was set off,
you got some nitroglycerin,

and then you stole
the football.

We caught you, pal.

Blue-handed.
Seriously?

Been waiting an hour
to say that, Sly, shut up.

Okay, I will tell
you everything.

But you need to understand...

Hey, hey, hey!

Holy friggin' crap.

His motor neurons are firing
on all cylinders from the juice.

It's like he's 25 again.

Whatever you did to my brain...

it worked.

Question I keep
going back to is:

why would
a Secret Service agent

with a perfect record

steal the football?

So, I did some digging
into someone

we never even considered
16 years ago.

At the time of the
assassination attempt,

you still had
family in Pakistan:

grandmother, two uncles,
despite having no priors,

were locked up
as political dissidents

and facing death.

Then, in the months after
the football went missing,

charges were dropped.

Someone found the weakness

in a Secret Service agent,

targeted you,

and made you do their bidding.

Am I missing anything?

I've got the Pentagon

breathing down my
neck for updates,

and the only lead we got to stop
nuclear winter isn't talking.

And he won't.
He's motivated to protect his family.

If whoever's
behind these attacks

finds out he cooperated,
they're dead.

I need you to dig into
your bag of tricks, Walter.

We need to find
a way to crack him.

No luck at the pizza place.

You?

Zilch.

Where do you go if
you're a former agent

who just got his
brain blasted?

Hey, Walt.

Bruce?

Yeah, get him together and
meet us at Whitehull Hospital.

- I have an idea. And hurry.
- Okay.

You didn't tell him
about Bruce.

I kind of want
to keep my job.

We're screwed.

This realty sign...

"17 Maplethorpe Road."

Isn't Maplethorpe...?

What Bruce was mumbling about
after we juiced him.

He wasn't talking about art,

he was telling us
where he wanted to go.

I'll drive!

That was terrifying.

I'm never letting you
drive my car again.

I found him, didn't I?

What the hell...?

Already told you, sir.

No one named Lorraine
lives here.

Hey...
It's okay.

He's with us.
Take your damn hands off me.

It's all right, Bruce.

Let's take a walk
and get a breath.

Look, he means no harm.

He just doesn't know where he is
sometimes-- he's sick.

I'm not sick
at all... right now.

I just thought
she'd be here, that's all.

That's why you duped us
and ran away?

To see a girl?

It's none of your
damn business.

Doesn't matter, anyway.

She's gone... again.

Who?

Look, I'm grateful
that I got my mind back, okay?

Short-lived though it may be.

I just wish some of my memories
had stayed gone, I guess.

Which memories?

Who were you looking for here?

Her name is Lorraine.

She was
a White House secretary.

I liked her.

I loved her.

I didn't want her to see me
become what I am,

so I... I asked 'em

if I could take my treatment
out here in Los Angeles,

and I, uh...

I left without saying a word.

I heard she moved out
here some time back.

I never checked
up, but, uh...

now that some of my memories
are coming back...

it's like it's happening
to me all over again.

It's as... painful
as it was the first time.

Just take me home, okay?
Please?

About that...

The magnetoencephalography
machine

will map when your
memories are activated.

Almost set.

Can you guys tell me
what the emergency is?

Like, um, is this guy
a spy or something?

That's need-to-know.

Y-You know, this-this
isn't going to work, guys.

I've already told you
everything I can recall.

No, I know, but sometimes

memories can be awoken
with the proper stimulant.

All right,
tell me, Bruce,

do you recognize
this guy?

No.

Take a closer look...

...and try aging him down

about 16 years.

Khara?

Is that you?

I don't remember
the last time I saw you.

The last time you saw him...

was when he stole
the football, Bruce.

You son of a bitch.

You took it
all from me.

You took my career,

you took my life!

You took her!

Focus on his hand, Bruce.

Focus-- allow your memories
of that day to return.

You're in the hospital,

you're getting
prepped for surgery...

One line of saline, wide open!

GSW to the torso!

Then a hand reached down
and took that case.

It was Khara.

You saw him.

What happens now?

GSW to the torso!

I don't know.

Uh, y-yes, you do.

It's in there, Bruce.

He's not gonna tell us,
so you need to.

I can't... I can't remember.
I'm sorry.

The man doesn't know anything.

Just let him be and move on.

There's nothing
any of us can do now.

It's done.

It's done.

What did you just say?

Bingo.

Okay, talk to me, Bruce.

Tell me, what did
you remember?

GSW to the torso!

Little bit sluggish.
Let's get him on the monitor.

He was leaving...

...then he called someone.

I heard him.

It's done.

Come on, focus, Bruce.
What did you hear?

I heard sounds.

Uh-uh... tones.

Like tones from dialing a phone?

I think so.

Okay, hold that thought!

Bruce heard Khara place a call
to his conspirator... then,

all we need to do

is reverse engineer
the number he dialed

and that should lead us
to whoever has the case.

How can you
possibly identify

push-button tones
16 years later?

His memory's tucked away
in a cranial fold somewhere.

Everything you read,
see, or hear--

it's stored away,
like in a computer,

and we just need to
access that file.

Is all of this really necessary?

Sensory recreation stimuli

to get you back to
the exact place you were

where the football was stolen.

Similar suit
to what you were wearing,

hospital Muzak...

- What the hell?
- Oh, it's iodine.

They used this
to prep you for surgery.

The olfactory sense is
the strongest memory trigger.

Since we juiced you,
your temporal lobe

has just been itching
to reminisce with us.

We just gotta goose it.

So, Bruce, close your eyes,

exhale...

...focus.

Assume Khara dialed local.

Cell phones weren't prevalent
16 years ago,

and he wasn't gonna
overnight the football, so...

the most popular area codes
in L.A. at the time were

323, 310, and 213.

GSW to the torso!

Little bit sluggish.
Let's get him on the monitor.

Any of those sound familiar?

The first one.

323 it is.

Seven more
mystery numbers to go.

No.

Concentrate on
his phone... just the phone.

- GSW to the torso.
- ...little bit sluggish.

Let's get him on the monitor.

Yes.

Yes.

That one.

No...

Yes.

323-248-8049.

We got it!

We just gotta find
out who that number

belonged to 16 years ago.

I'm working on it.

Update!

Hackers are into
the Icelandic silo.

The nuclear
launch sequence

has been activated for a missile

aimed at St. Petersburg, Russia.

Right now, personnel
are doing all they can

to stop the missiles.
They will fail.

How long do we have?

T-minus 30
until ready for launch.

So, in 30 minutes,
all the terrorists need to do

is push a button in a briefcase?

Why Russia?
What's the endgame?

It's logical. It's brilliant.
For decades,

terrorists
have been fighting us,

getting knocked down,
rebuilding,

then coming back at us.

But if a U.S. nuke
hits a Russian city--

they're gonna sit back

and watch us destroy each other.

There's only one way
to fix this.

Stop the bastards from
ever pushing that button.

To do that, we need to know
what that phone number leads to.

Got it! It belongs to
a defunct non-profit

that takes care of poor
Middle Eastern children.

Well, it's not the first time
that a fake charity

has been used to launder money
for a terrorist group.

This one's headed up
by one Nadim Gadhi.

Last known address?

He's in a boathouse
at the harbor.

19 minutes away.
By the time we arrive,

we'll only have nine minutes

until the nukes are ready to go.
We gotta move!

Cops are a few minutes out.

Walter, Bruce-- need you.

Toby, need you

in case Bruce has any issues.

The rest of you,
remain alert.

You're the one who wanted me
to keep my phone on.

Homeland! Freeze!

You all right?
Fine. Let's go.

Game on!

Oh, God, she's driving again.

Happy, I'm not buckled.
Just wait!

Wait till I'm buckled!
I'm not buckled!

Happy, Happy, Happy!
Safety first!

What did we talk about?

If we split up,
we cover more ground.

All right.
Okay.

Walter, you all right?

We got less than two minutes.
We gotta get that case.

Homeland! Freeze!

Drop your weapon!
Drop your weapon!

Put down the case.

Set down the case
and step away from it!

Put down the case
and step away from it!

No! No!

Toby, stop! It's electrified!

Best thing about America?

The trains always run on time.

In less than a minute,
those nukes are ready to launch.

If that train runs over the
case, the button will depress.

And millions will die.

All right,
the fence is electrified.

We can't climb it.

Happy, where's
the nearest junction box?

It's on the other side
of the yard.

I'll never get there in time.

It's a quarter mile down
and around the fence.

Normally, it would take
less than two minutes

to get down there, but due to
the speed of the train,

we only have 45 seconds, Walter!

I've got an idea!

What are you doing?
There's no way

that magnet's strong enough
to stop that train!

And that case is aluminum,
it's not magnetic!

Of course! The track is
lined with intermittent

shoe brakes that'll stop the
train in case of an emergency.

It's activated
by electromagnetic coils.

She's using the magnet
to reverse polarities

and flip the switch!

Time's up-- missiles
are ready for launch!

Uh...

You did it!

The launch sequence has been
shut down and the feds

have tracked Gadhi's
online communications.

Interpol's picking up his
pals overseas as we speak.

Feel free to take a bow.

You all just saved the world.

And you took me
out of the line of fire

like I was POTUS.

You're still a
hell of an agent.

My orders are
to dispose of this.

And we are to act
like this never happened.

OTR.

O... T... R.

Do the honors.

I've been tough on you.

Go get 'em.

Let's see what you got.

Okay-okay, okay.
Yeah!

Okay.

Okay...

That's it. Mm-hmm.

That felt good.

Sexy man!

All right, let's
pack it up and head home.

Shotgun.

Come on.

You were
pretty incredible today.

Only because you
juiced my brain.

You know, I work out,

try to take care of myself.

It never crosses my mind
I'm getting older.

But you never know how far
you slipped down that mountain

till you look back up and
see where you once were.

Enjoy your youth
while you can, kid.

One day you'll blink...

you'll be me.

You know, I hate to spoil

your moment of self-reflection,

but what we did to you
wore off hours ago.

Your heroics out here--

that was all you.

You don't say.

I protected the
president once.

Thank you for allowing me

to feel useful again.

I wish I could say
I wouldn't forget it, but, uh...

There's advancements in
neurological science every year.

You never know.

Yes, I do.

And so do you.

Make as many great
memories as you can.

'Cause at the end of the day,

we don't get to decide
the ones we keep, huh?

Lorraine?!

H-How did you...?

We just found
a terrorist after 16 years.

We can find a secretary.

She's a strong memory in you.

Maybe having her back
in your life

will help you hold on
a little more.

Well, I'm gonna try.

I'm gonna try like hell.

How about we hold off
cleaning until tomorrow, huh?

I second that motion.

Hear, hear.

Thanks.

Crazy day, huh?

Crazy seems to be the norm.

That's an astute observation.

I, um... my assessment

of Portland, uh, was, um,

not the proper response
for your query.

Oh.

Okay.

Yeah, I thought it might also
be useful for you to know that

the University of
Southern Maine also has,

um, solid research facilities--

not like UCLA, but solid--

so it might be good for Ralph.

Also they have
oceanography clubs for minors.

Uh, average snowfall
is 61 inches.

There are over 3,000...

uh, islands off the coast,
so Ralph could explore,

and-and-and it also brings in
90% of the nation's lobster,

so, you know, crustaceans--
I'm sorry. Is this...

...funny?

No. It's just a lot
of facts and figures.

Of course.
I care about giving you

a complete answer
to your question.

Oh, I know.

I know you care.

No. You know,
I, um, I care about, um,

more than just
you having the,

um, the facts and-and...

full statistics for Ralph.
I, um...

I care about Ralph.

You were right.

I don't,

um, I never had a real

relationship with my father.

And I know I'm not Ralph's,

but I-I must serve...

a purpose in his life,
because he serves

such an important, uh,
one in mine,

and if he left, then, uh...

I-I know I said

being human wasn't

something I wanted.

But since I met your son,

I know that's
not entirely true.

These last few months,
I've been... less me.

And that's made me
a better person.

So, no, I don't
want him to leave.

I, uh...

care about him.

And you.

Those are the last facts
that I have to say.

And, well, yeah, so, okay.

Walter?

Yeah?

I'd miss you, too.

Hey!

Look, Mom. Check it out!

Guess who won the science fair.

No way!

That's incredible!

And guess what.

Billy from class
asked me to his birthday.

Can I go?

You were invited to a party?

Of course you can go.

Hey, what do you say
we give this engine a kick?

I mean... unless you're
in a rush to go?

No.

No, I don't want to go.

Okay, let's go.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man