All language subtitles for Person of Interest - 3x17 - .HDTV.LOL.en

You are being watched.

The government
has a secret system--

A machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.

_

Name's Root.

She's a hacker,
extortionist, murderer.

She hacks human beings

as easily
as she hacks computers.

I don't wanna
control their machine.

I just want to set it free.

I already did.

The machine's
given me a mission.

Things are evolving.

You say you're an interface,

your eyes and your ears
are your ports,

we can put a stop to that.

I wish you'd listened.

Then the drives would have never
fallen into the wrong hands.

Decima Technologies.

My Samaritan,

you are destined
for great things.

_

_

Hey, new fish,

you want a tip?

No, thanks.

That's too bad, 'cause you're
getting the whole thing.

Hey!

Go check it out.

Ma'am, hello?

Are you okay?

- I'm fine. Thanks for asking.
- Aah!

Get out there.
We've got a problem.

Go get 'em, biggie.

Show 'em what you got.

You, hands in the
air-- Get down on the-- Aah!

Oh, what have we here?

Hey, baby.
I want a piece of that.

Hi, Billy.

Wanna get outta here?

Come on, sugar.

Why don't you
take me with-- Aghh!

My name's Billy too!

So do we know each other?

All right, I have him.
What's next?

Who are you talking to?

Who are you?
Hello?

Hello!

Wrong side.
I'm deaf in that ear.

Can you do a German accent?

- Um...
- Learn.

Yes, thank you for noticing.

Yes, thank you for noticing.

Look, thanks for
busting me out and all,

but what the hell is going on?

In your case, Billy,

I haven't figured that out yet.

All I know is that
the fate of the future

hangs in the balance,

and you have some role to play.

Shave.

Yeah, I don't mean to complain,

but I'm probably
gonna die soon.

The pants will be a bit long.

So what do you need me
to boost?

You do know
I'm a car thief, right?

I don't know, don't care.

My boss only gives me the
information I need to do my job,

and...

right now I need you to learn
this signature, fast.

Uh, I'm gonna need a--

Hai chiizu.

_

That's Daizo.

I saved him from
the Tokyo Police last month.

He's been with me ever since.

We good?

Where were you
when I got busted?

Ridgestone
Psychiatric Facility.

Here we are.

- Where?
- No idea.

Domo.

_

_

Oh, I love it when you do this.

Not you.
Go inside now.

_

Dr. Schmitz?

Dr. Schmitz,
got a package for you.

ID and signature, please.

_

_

Did you change your hair?

Yes, thank you for noticing.

We should go
before he gets here.

Who?

_

_

So what was all this?

My boss and I are trying

to stop something very bad
from happening.

So what do you think?

_

3109 West 23rd Street.

Looks like that's
where I'm headed next.

Why?

You'll find out
when you get there.

Thanks for playing.

Now here's your
lovely parting gift.

At the second lunch table
on the left in cell block D,

sit across from a 300-pound
Chickasaw named Arnold.

He loves dinosaurs
as much as you do.

Tell him that, and he'll
have your back forever.

There he is!

- Police! Police!
- Don't move!

Stay right where you are.

Put your hands in the air.

So whom am I looking for
this time?

Powerful CEO?

A rogue hacker?

A hit man posing

as a delivery guy?

Hmm, fascinating.

Hello, Cyrus.

I'm supposed to take you
to breakfast.

Just a PB&J, huh?

You sure you wouldn't
rather have some eggs?

No, thanks.
This is dinner for me.

Working nights
is all about routine.

Gotta trick your body
into going to sleep

when the rest of the world
is waking up.

Same meal, same place
every day,

or I don't sleep a wink.

But I do appreciate the meal

and the hot cocoa.

Normally people ask
more questions.

- Such as?
- "Who are you?"

"What do you want with me?"

"What the hell's
going on?"

Que será, será.

Whatever will be, will be.

Took me a long time to see it,

but there's an order
to things, a plan.

And everything that happens
is part of it,

including you.

But if it makes you
feel any better,

what the hell is going on?

My boss wanted me
to talk to you.

Which means you and I
are supposed

to do something together,

something important.

Sounds like you got
a weird job.

What's your boss want us to do?

She won't say.

She likes it better when
I figure it out myself.

Sounds like you have
a weird boss.

Well, now I go to the park
for a walk, rain or shine.

Fresh air helps me
have good dreams.

You're more than welcome
to join if you like.

You should know better

than to try to sneak up
on me, Harold.

Did you come to welcome me
back to New York?

Actually, we're here
for Mr. Wells.

His number came

at 7:04 this morning.

Your multifaceted machine

sure does work in mysterious
ways, doesn't she?

In this case perhaps
not that mysterious.

When Mr. Reese and Ms. Shaw
accessed the security system

in the building where he works,

they found you approaching him

at precisely 7:04 AM.

I've prepared a preliminary
study of his digital footprint,

and in my estimation
the most dangerous thing

in Cyrus Wells's life is you.

Whatever your plan is,
Ms. Groves,

I believe you're gonna
get him killed.

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com

Relax, Harold.

Nobody's getting
anybody killed.

Cyrus is perfectly safe
with me.

If the machine sent us
his number,

it may mean that you are
placing Mr. Wells at risk.

Or it could mean
I'm here to protect him.

Honestly, Harold,
keeping up with everything

the machine whispers
in my ear can be tricky,

especially now
that I'm down to one.

Oh, my.

Oh, did you not hear
about my chat with Control?

She's fun...

in an unnecessary
stapedectomy kind of way.

But I do miss music in stereo.

I'm sorry.

The machine offered me a job.

She never said
it would be easy.

And what job is that exactly?

Trying to save the world,
of course.

By preventing the emergence
of a second machine.

Samaritan.

Genetically programmed,

fully targetable,
and nearly complete.

Samaritan presents a serious
threat to our machine, Harold.

And Decima's trying
to bring it to life.

Do you really want
to see what it looks like

when two gods go to war?

Maybe you should
be more worried

about what happens
when Samaritan comes online

than about what happens
to some janitor.

How much do you know about
this janitor, Ms. Groves?

Well...

he's got some interesting ideas

about metaphysical determinism,

and I think
he's a Doris Day fan.

Do you know that he has
an MBA in finance from Fordham?

Do you know he was
a multimillionaire

by the age of 35?

Do you know he hasn't worked

on Wall Street since 2009?

Would you even care
to know why?

Perhaps you should
ask the machine

for a bit more information
about Cyrus Wells

before you deem him
insignificant.

He'll be fine, I promise.

I know it seems weird,

but I'm one
of the good guys now, Harold.

Third from the bottom,

15th on the right, behind you.

Root wouldn't take "Go"
for an answer?

No, I'm afraid not.

Seems that she thinks
she has the situation

well in hand.

Ms. Groves has never
been particularly concerned

about collateral damage,

which may be precisely what
Cyrus Wells is about to become.

Watch over them
until we can figure out

what's going on.

In the meantime,
I'll try to determine

what message
this is meant to convey.

_

Seems pretty clear
to me, Finch.

I think she likes you, Harold.

So I don't want
to be rude or anything,

but, yeah,

look, thank you
for the hot cocoa,

and it was nice of you
to walk me home.

But whatever it is you're
doing right now is not--

Necessary.
Trust me.

I heard you skipped breakfast.

And you and your
Australopithecine coworker

can just take the day off.

I've been doing just fine
without a safety net.

Look, the only reason
you're not stuck

in a cage right now is me.

Don't make me look bad.

I couldn't make you
look bad if I tried.

You should start packing
your toiletries.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

No, no, no, okay?

Seriously, no.

I have to work again tonight.

I need to sleep,
so it's time for you to leave.

Actually, it's time
for us both to leave.

Things are about
to get interesting.

What?

Why?

Is this about what happened

at my old job?

What did happen?

None of your business.
Give me that.

Who are these people, Cyrus?

Their names.
It could be important.

It's not.
You have to go.

Did they get hurt?
Did you get hurt?

I-I need to know
what happened.

Finch, I've got
eyes on a sniper.

And I might have a lead
on who's doing the shooting.

The solicitation
Ms. Groves gave me

is visually identical
to an image

commonly sent out as spam.

But digitally

someone has hidden a message
inside the image.

It's encrypted with
a running key cipher.

But I can't decode it
without--

"Behind you,
third from the bottom,

15th from the right."

De Tocqueville.

I believe I know
who we're dealing with.

Vigilance.

We'll take her.

You four get the target.

It's happening again.

Do you think you
could do that later?

'Cause we should probably go.

No, no, no.
Please.

Guns make me
very, very nervous.

Well...

we've got a sniper outside

and four heavily-armed
privacy terrorists

coming up the north stairwell.

So a gun would be nice, but...

You think of everything.

Tear gas.
Hold your breath.

Wait.
What about the sniper?

Trust me.

Wanna see who's got better aim?

Aah!

Got eyes on the target.

I'm afraid Vigilance may
not be our only threat, Mr. Reese.

I decrypted their spam message,

and it seems that Vigilance
is only targeting

Mr. Wells because
his name came up

in a secret communique
they intercepted

from Decima.

I don't think Root's
our biggest problem anymore.

Hey, who are those guys?

I told you things were gonna
get interesting.

The target's in sight, sir.
We're moving in.

Shouldn't we run?

Shh.
I can't hear my boss.

Hi, here's $20.

Whoa, why are we stopping?

Because there are more
where those four came from.

And this is the quickest way
to get you out of here

without shooting someone.

Keep your shoulders relaxed

when they put the handcuffs on.

You!

Hands in the air.

What?

Hands in the air.

Ow.

Cyrus is safe, Finch.

But we'll need Fusco's help
to keep it that way.

And Ms. Groves?

Gone.

So are the boys from Decima.

Do we have any idea
what Cyrus did

to piss off both them
and Vigilance?

As far as I can tell, nothing.

But whatever's going on,
I'm starting to suspect

that it has more to do with
his new job than his old one.

I hacked the computer system

at the janitorial service
that employs Cyrus

and discovered they recently
ran a background check on him.

Why?

What kind of janitor
needs a background check?

Something to look into

when we reconnect
with Ms. Shaw.

I lost her signal
when the shooting started.

She said she saw a sniper.

But I don't see
any sign of her here.

Between Shaw and Cyrus,

I think I know who needs
our help more.

Then I'm afraid
we'll have to trust Ms. Shaw

to take care of herself.

_

Now that you're not gonna die,
we can have a little chat.

So you need a hospital,

and I need to know why
everyone's after the janitor.

You owe me a sniper.

This is Collier, right?

Or at least that's your alias?

Can't say I know yours.

So I'll just call you
a target of opportunity.

Vigilance came here
to interrogate Cyrus Wells,

but now we're here for you.

See, based on
the way you fight,

I think you were
a clandestine operative

for the good old US of A.

But based on
the people you protect,

I think you're not anymore.

And I'm guessing it's
because they betrayed you.

Are you guys gonna shoot again

or just talk me to death?

Well, actually
I'm more interested

in what you have to say.

So I've taken the liberty

of sealing off the exits.

Now in exchange
for everything you know

about the Samaritan system

and the people
that are trying to build it,

I'm prepared
to offer you something

that no one else can--

Revenge on the government
that betrayed you.

And if I refuse?

In the words
of Benjamin Franklin,

join or die.

Have you secured
Mr. Wells, Detective?

Yeah, I got him.

And I'm clearing up
the charges too.

You're welcome very much.

A phrase which now
makes my thanks

seem less than sincere,
Detective.

I'm sending you GPS coordinates

for a rendezvous
with Mr. Reese,

who will henceforth
protect Mr. Wells.

All right.

Okay, pal, let's
get you out of here.

Come on, this way.

You forgot to transfer
from savings again, Lionel.

Your rent check's gonna bounce.

- Hi, Cyrus.
- Hey.

Hey, nice try, Cocoa Puffs.

There's no way I'm letting him
leave here with you.

I understand.

But there are things
you don't know.

For starters,
you don't know that Cyrus

is currently wanted
by not one, but two

very dangerous organizations.

And you have no idea
that there are currently

27 people en route
to this location,

the closest of whom is carrying

two concealed firearms
and a push dagger

he used to kill three people
in Dubai last month--

one of them just for fun.

I don't care how big
your brain is.

Nobody's taking this guy
from me

without a big fat
federal warrant, you got that?

Joined the Bureau last month
to get access

to a nuclear plant in Tulsa.

Long story.

Is there a problem here, Fusco?

Um, no Captain.

There's no problem.

Is there a back way
out of here?

Yeah, it's, uh--

I wasn't asking you.

You let her what?

She had a
warrant-- a real one.

What was I supposed to say?

"Sorry, boss, Agent King
is actually

a superpowered nutball.

Just ask my buddy,
the urban legend."

Relax, John.

Have a little faith.

You're making a mistake.

Cyrus is safer with me.

You don't really
believe that, do you?

Have you and Harold
even figured out

why Decima is after him yet?

That power you have?

I've had it too.

I know just
what it's like to have

all those answers
buzzing in your ear.

But at the end of the day,
you still make choices.

And if the choice
you're making now

- gets Cyrus killed--
- Whatever happens,

I'll be there to save him,

just like I was there
to save you.

After everything we've
been through together, John,

you really should trust me.

Are you sure it's safe here?

I can protect you anywhere.

I thought this place
might help you relax.

Sorry I've kept you up
past your bedtime.

Yeah, that's all right.

To tell the truth, I don't
sleep very well anyway.

Yeah, about that--

I'd still like to know
what happened.

Your boss seems
to know everything.

Why don't you ask her?

I did.

She won't tell me.

Please, Cyrus,
who are these people?

Sarah Lind and Alex Rice--

my best friends from college.

After graduation,
they started a small

financial services firm
and brought me on

to help 'em run it.

When everybody was betting big
on the housing market,

we played it safe.

So when the crash came,

we went from a small start-up
to a major player.

But somebody was jealous.

'Cause one day a guy walked
into our office

and started shooting.

Alex and Sarah were killed.

Five others were shot,
including me.

The gunman was
never identified.

And when was this, exactly?

April 4, 2009.

- I'm sorry.
- Don't be.

Ten weeks in ICU makes you

take a long, hard look
at things.

I realized I had wasted
the first 30 years of my life

putting zeros
on my bank account.

So I gave all my money away
to charity.

Now I get up every night

and keep that building
spic and span.

'Cause who doesn't like
clean floors?

Que será, será.

What happened that day
was part of a plan.

No. No, what--

whatever this was, believe me,

it was not part of
some grand cosmic plan.

We need to go.

They're almost here.

We're at the
coordinates you sent, sir.

But we can't get a visual
on the targets.

You will.

Deploy the countermeasure.

_

Can you hear me?

_

- What do we do now?
- Run.

- Get in the car!
- Cyrus!

I guess you better answer that.

Drop the weapon!

Drop it now!

I don't like killing patriots,

so I'm gonna give you
one more chance.

That's funny, I was gonna
say the same thing to you.

See, I knew we had
something in common--

many things, I suspect.

You're not the only one
the government has betrayed.

And that's why
I want your help.

See, America's dying.

And everybody knows it.

It's not just about privacy,
it's about principle.

Our nation is assassinating
people with drones,

holding them
without due process,

and, yes, spying
on its own people

without cause or limits
and in direct violation

of our constitution.

But we have a plan to stop it.

And if you join us,

you will not only
have your revenge,

but you will help
write a new chapter

in American history.

You're right about all of it.

I did work for the government,

and I do want revenge.

But if that work
taught me anything,

it's that how you do
matters as much

as what you do.

And by that metric,
you're all just terrorists.

And I kill terrorists.

I lost Decima's trail

about a mile from the park.

Do we have any other way
to find Cyrus?

Not at the moment.

But I may have discovered
why Decima wants him.

I've located the
original communique

that Vigilance intercepted
from Decima.

The message that
started all of this.

It lists Cyrus
as 1 of 15 people

with retinal access.

As in retinal scanner?

So somewhere out there
is a door,

and Cyrus Wells' eye
is the key.

I believe I might know
where that door is.

After passing
his background check at work,

Cyrus became the only custodian

allowed on the 19th floor.

What's on the 19th floor?

A company called
Maxwell Limited.

All I know about them
so far is that

they take regular deliveries
of liquid helium.

I'm guessing they're not
blowing up balloons.

Maxwell could be
using it to cool

anything from
biomedical reactors to--

The fastest computer
ever built.

Maxwell's the corporate cover
for an NSA lab.

And two days ago,
somebody working

in that lab sent this.

_

Oh, my.

Okay, Finch,
what am I missing here?

It's a note from one
computer scientist to another,

detailing the specifications
of a superconducting processor,

three times faster
than anything now available.

And since the government's
not about to sell it to them,

Decima plans to use Cyrus
to steal it.

The original Samaritan crashed
because a chip

fast enough to run it
hadn't been built yet.

Two days ago,
somebody built it.

Decima has the software.

Now they want the hardware.

Right now, I'm more worried
about Cyrus.

As soon as he opens that door,

Decima's gonna kill him.

I suppose you'll be
joining Mr. Reese.

Not just yet.

Decima's severed my link
to the machine.

Temporarily, but
she didn't like that.

So...

she wants you to patch these
into this.

The last time
you didn't help us

when you should have,
people died.

And once this device
is installed,

which will you save?

The chip or Cyrus Wells?

Since it was you
who put him in danger.

Fine, Harold.

It's all my fault--

mine and the machine's.
Happy?

Far from it, but I do believe

that there's a lesson here
about hubris.

Well, if anyone
would know about hubris,

it would be the man
who built God.

She's worried about you,
Harold.

We both are.

The past three months,
you've slept an average

of four hours per night.

My problems are no concern
of yours, Ms. Groves.

Perhaps if you had
1/10 as much interest

in Cyrus's welfare,
he might not be about--

By your own definition,

Cyrus is irrelevant.

Everyone is relevant
to someone.

That man has spent every day
of his life

believing that
there is actually

some sort of higher plan.

That's the problem
with humans--

they just sit around,
hoping that

someone will fix things.

But no one will.
No one cares.

The universe is infinite

and chaotic and cold.

And there has never
been a plan.

At least not till now.

You wanna know
what the plan was

the day they died?

The plan was for someone
to make $15 million.

An executive at a big bank
wanted them dead,

so he wired the money
to someone with the skills,

resources, and moral depravity
to make that happen.

And that someone was me.

And the punch line

is that your machine keeps
telling me to save Cyrus.

How badly did you
have to break it

to make it care
about people so much?

That didn't break it.
It's what made it work.

It was only after
I taught the machine

that people mattered,
that it could begin

to be able to help them.

I'd like to do
the same thing for you,

if you'd let me.

In the first 30 minutes

after Samaritan comes online,

a lot of people are
gonna be killed.

But they're gonna
start with four.

You, me,

your helper monkey, and Shaw.

And there won't be
a damn thing anyone,

including your machine,
can do to stop it.

You think I don't care
about people, Harold?

I'm doing all of this
to save you.

Sorry, Doctor.

I didn't have time
to make an appointment.

But I know you'll
make an exception for me.

Really?

And, uh, how do you know that?

The same way I know I can
put a bullet through your hand

before you can dial 911.

The same way I know you're
the best otolaryngologist

in 250 miles.

Okay, uh, what do you want?
Drugs?

Not really.

Although a little lidocaine
would be nice.

I didn't get any the last time.

You see, somebody broke my ear.

And you're gonna fix it.

Building security
has been neutralized.

We're ready to take the chip.

Then let's begin, shall we?

Very good.

You may dispose of him now.

Wait. What are you--
No, let me go!

Please. The minimum healing time
is three weeks before--

Unfortunately, I'm on
a bit of a schedule.

And I won't be needing that.

Okay, I'm turning it on.

_

Now you're going
to hear a series of tones.

I can hear you.

I didn't start yet.

I wasn't talking to you.

We're in the lab.

Take all the research,
wipe the computers,

and locate the chip.

Haste makes waste.

The chamber is cooled
to within a few degrees

of absolute zero.

Opening now would kill you all.

And more importantly
damage the chip.

Listen closely
to the warm-up protocol

and do exactly as I say.

No, no, please, don't.

Settle down.
It'll all be over soon.

We got plenty of bleach.

Oh, no, no, no.

This is not the plan.

This can't be the plan.

Oh, God!

What did you say to him?

_

She is persistent.

Countermeasures.

233 Kelvin.

The chamber is now safe.

Get the chip and go.

Fusco.

I'm gonna try to get to Cyrus.

Be ready to cover me.

He'll just run away again.

He doesn't like guns.

You think the machine's gonna
help you dodge bullets?

No.

It's okay.
I'm coming to you.

Hey, Cyrus, wanna
get out of here?

The Maxwell chip
is in custody, sir.

We've cleared the perimeter.

Then our work here is done.

Do tidy up, please.

Cyrus is safe, Finch,

but Decima got away
with the chip.

That may not be our only loss.

I still haven't heard
from Miss--

What happened to you guys?

You missed all the fun.

What are they saying?

I know you can't
bluejack her anymore.

But do you expect us to believe
you didn't bug that balcony?

I suppose I thought
they deserved some privacy.

Looks like it's time to go.

I hope you don't mind
starting a new life.

I was about due for one.

Besides, it's all part
of the plan.

Keep 'em dry.

Change the dressings
every 72 hours.

I love it when you play doctor.

Was it just a coincidence--

Cyrus and me?

Or was the machine trying
to make some sort of point?

You'd have to ask the machine.

I did.

She's not telling.

Did you inform Mr. Wells

about your role in his past?

I wanted to.

But that would've been for me.

What Cyrus believes, it--

it helps him.

And who am I to say he's wrong?

She wants me on a plane
to Paraguay in 20 minutes.

About that--

you're not wrong about
the threat Samaritan poses.

And though you and I may not
see eye to eye on some things,

perhaps we should collaborate
a bit more.

Toward that end--

Detective Fusco is here
to take me

where I need to go.

Hello, Lionel.

Hey, Cuckoo's Nest,
the meter's running.

Your smoke alarm's gonna
start beeping at 2:41 AM.

_

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com