All language subtitles for PS01E02-Every Picture Tells A Story_track3_eng

You just missed him.
Only been gone a couple days.

I'll check the dresser.

How did he look?

Oh. About 6'2", 170 pounds, I guess.

That's not what I mean.

I mean, was he okay?
Did he seem in good health?

Are you kiddin'?
Man had a physique the pros would kill for.

So, tell me, uh, if Mr. Spitz
wasn't really an atomic engineer...

how did he stop the nuke plant from turnin'
us into pork rind?

- Mr. Spitz is, um...
- A fascinating man.

Oh.

So, any stab at Jarod's Oedipal tragedy,
Dr. Freud?

Jarod. That was his first name, yeah.

Strange...

but you'd think a grown man
with a last name of Spitz...

would already know how to swim, wouldn't ya?

He was here for swimming lessons?

Hey, we are the "Y."

He was a quick learner too.

From Pike to Advanced
Adult in just five weeks.

Day in, day out, swimming was all he did.

Except for this past week.

He spent every second in the pool,
but he didn't swim a stroke.

What do you mean?

From the time we opened in the morning
until the midnight crew closed her down...

he'd be there in the deep end...

treading water without ever stopping.

Just treading water.

I wonder what your science
project is up to now.

Banking two-niner and heading down.

Go in for a closer look.

It's smoking pretty badly.
I'll call in a rescue craft.

She's going overboard.

There's no time!

Jarod, no!

Come on, Jarod.

Hello. My name is Jarod.

You're gonna be just fine.

Miss Parker, you have a fax.

1,324.

Very good, girls, and absolutely correct.

Sydney, now!

Your theatrics upset the children.

Save the Mr. Rogers, Syd.

I set up a text session with Broots
so that he can help us track Jarod.

I think that takes precedence
over Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Broots's technology isn't going
to help us track a chameleon.

Jarod changes color. He blends in.

We'll get close when he lets us.

Patience, Parker. We need patience.

Syd, patience may be a soothing catchall...

for the potato heads in
Psychogenic Services.

But my father and the boys in the
Tower equate patience with failure.

But Jarod is a Pretender.

He can become anyone he wants to be.

We'll never catch him with
one of Broots's phone taps.

That's what they said about the Unabomber,
Syd.

And how did they catch
that whacked-out prodigy?

A letter to Mommy.

It's the smart ones who
always do something stupid.

Let's use the stairs.
It's only three flights up. Come on.

Stop nurturing, Sydney.

Hell, it's been 20 years. I don't
have any problem riding this elevator.

You shouldn't either.

Your mother was a special person.

My mother was weak. Period.

She couldn't handle the pressures
of S.I.S. Or this place.

I don't have that problem.

Only thing that ever bothered me was...

why in an elevator?

They go up, they go down.

They end up nowhere.

It's amazing how a single
bullet can change your life.

If you ever want to talk about it...

Correct me if I'm wrong, Sydney,
but wasn't my mother's session with you...

one of the last things she did
before she got on this elevator?

No, thanks.

Sydney, I'll take my own chances.

Martha. Good morning.

- You look way too rested to be staying in Coast Guard housing.
- I live off-base.

It took three years and a husband
to get me out of the iron cot.

- How'd you swing it?
- I forged my transfer papers.

Oh.

Martha, are you okay?

Yeah, it's uh, bad sushi.

- Is there any other kind?
- Lieutenant Campbell. Good morning.

- Good morning.
- I'm glad I caught you.

I wanted you to meet my lieutenant commander,
Paul Bilson.

- Pleasure to meet you, sir.
- Word is you did some pretty good work out there yesterday.

Heard you even plucked a
victim out of the soup.

Well, it's a good thing I took
those swim lessons at the "Y."

I wish all my transfers had your humility,
not to mention talent.

Commander Powell, I was hoping to get
a few minutes regarding my rank review.

- Well, all rank reviews go through the L.C.
- I know. It's on my desk.

- I'll get on it A.S.A.P.
- Thank you, sir.

Well, I'll leave you in abler hands, Lt.
Campbell.

Thank you, sir.

Well, the real question is,
what kind of sea legs do you have?

As you know, anybody can fly, right, Poole?

A kite maybe, sir.

Lieutenant.

Good morning, L.C. Hey,
got the Christi purrin' like a kitten.

- I don't trust that old nag. I'll take the 45.
- Yes, sir!

Commander Powell likes his men to be
real sailors. You up for some sea duty?

- As ready as I'll ever be, sir.
- Javi, we're waiting!

Rumble Base Alpha signing off.

Haven't you ever heard of the Internet?
E-mail?

- I'm a purist. I crave static.
- You comin'?

Yeah.

- Hi. Jarod Campbell.
- Javi Padilla.

Nice to meet you.
Is Bilson always in such a hurry?

Only when the ocean calls.

Commander Powell tells me you've been
running icebreakers off Katima Bay.

Great Lakes? You didn't tell me
this was a freshwater boy, sir.

Ah, give me a break.
At least I transferred to the unit...

with the best S.A.R. Record in the Guard.

You're damn right. We conducted 178
search-and-rescues last year alone.

Whoo!

Looks like a 42-80 to me.

It's listing about three degrees. Abandoned?

That's my guess. Javi, call it in.

Jarod, check it out.

Hello?

It's the Coast Guard.

Is anybody here? Hello?

Whoa, now, sir. Nobody's here to hurt you.

Oh, hell.

Roy Abbott, say hello to Lt. Campbell.

Hi. Call me Jarod.

Get off my boat.

Ah, come on, Roy.
Is that any way to treat the new guy?

Sir.

Your stores appear to be low,
and you also appear to be taking on water.

Why don't you let us tow you
ashore so we can help you resupply?

Nothin' I need over there.
I'm fine where I am.

Mr. Abbott, the commander did not agree.

You have one week to come in,
or we're authorized to bring you in, sir.

It's for your own good, Mr. Abbott.

Sydney.

Well, I'm surprised you're not out
making rounds down Corridor 15.

Even a psychiatrist needs a day off.

And all this time, I thought your
interest in me was purely paternal.

I understand learning to swim,
but aren't you a little old...

to be playing with bathtub toys?

Well, it's certainly better than the
kind of playtime you foisted upon me.

It's funny.

I can't see their faces.

But their eyes...
they won't stop staring at me.

- Whose eyes, Jarod?
- I don't know.

Dead eyes.

Eyes of people that aren't alive today...

because of how you exploited my simulations.

And now, you want to right those wrongs...

by using your gift as an avenging angel.

- Is that it?
- Something like that.

Then why are you calling?

I wanted to know if...

if Jarod was my real name.

I think it is.
At least, that's what I was told.

Thank you, Sydney.

Don't hang up.

I'm worried about you.

If you're so worried about me,
why don't you go to the authorities?

- You know I can't do that.
- Why?

Because you love me?

Or because you're afraid of what I know?

Jarod, if those people from the
beltway find out what you have...

I won't be able to protect you.

If they find out what I have...

you won't be able to protect yourselves.

Those D.S.A.'s contain my work.

No, Sydney. They contain my life.

Good-bye.

We got you, genius.

Now this is very interesting.

You mean somebody actually manufactures...

imitation canine feces?

Yep. Only they couldn't fit
all that on the label...

so they just call it fake dog poop.

Oh.

And why exactly would
somebody want fake dog poop?

'Cause it's funny.

- Oh.
- No, I mean the white ones. Yeah.

Thank you.

It is funny.

I got the white ones, Mommy.
Those were his favorites.

Broots traced Jarod's
call back to this Y.M.C.A.

Get him!

Hey, hey, hey! I ain't done nothin'.
I ain't done nothin'.

What are you doing in this room?

I ain't trespassin'. No.
This guy gave me the room.

- Is this the man?
- Yeah, that-that's him.

And you know what?
He conducts the philharmonic. Mm-hmm.

And-And he gives me six months' free
rent just to transfer his calls.

And you know what?
He says he likes to travel a lot.

Shut up, Sydney.

♪♪ Good morning, Mr. Abbott.

What do you want?

I don't know. I was just passing through.

Permission to come aboard?

Granted.

Magdeline's a pretty lady.

How do you know Magdeline?

I was talking about your boat.

Is that your wife?

Could've been. Probably would've.

I never asked her.

Do you think the Dutchman
ever found his lost love?

What?

The opera you were listening to.
Wagner's Dutchman.

That's the story. I always wondered...

if he ever searched for his love...

or spent the rest of his days
floating around on that ghost ship.

I never really gave it much thought.

It's not easy wondering if someone
you love is still out there.

I ain't movin' my boat.

I'm not asking you to.

Don't that uniform make it your job?

I'm just borrowing the uniform.

I brought you some supplies from town.

I'll trade you for...

this chest you carved.

Throw in some candles next time you pass,
you got yourself a deal.

Done. Thanks.

Do you ever listen to Mozart, Mr. Abbott?

The Magic Flute?

I like this one fine. It's all I need.

I was allowed to listen to
it once when I was a child.

I'd close my eyes, and in my mind...

I became an eagle.

I could go anywhere, do anything.

Nothing could stop me.

Maybe Mozart knew something
that Wagner didn't.

I ain't movin' my boat.

Lt. Campbell, even on routine patrol...

I expect your eyes on the deck.

This is a helicopter, not a library.

Trying to orient myself to the
West Coast ocean search patterns.

Tell you what. I will buy you lunch...

if you let me pick your brain
about some of these old searches.

As long as it's not sushi.

Great. I don't want Commander Powell...

to tag me "Freshwater Boy"
on my rank review.

Wait a minute.

You've been here three days,
and you're getting a rank review?

Oh, great! All I need is
another guy in this operation...

- elbowing for room on the ladder.
- When are you due?

I should've made L.C. Months ago...

but Commander Powell keeps putting it off.

Not your promotion. Your baby.

I'd say from your nausea and your sore back,
you're about nine weeks.

My husband doesn't even know.
What are you, a part-time obstetrician?

No, but I was a midwife once.

You haven't told the commander yet,
have you?

Hell no! If Powell or anyone else
around here finds out about this...

I can kiss away my chances at L.C.

Your secret's safe with me.

Well, Broots, what happened?

I'm backtracking his call
through the other phone.

All I know right now is that
they're all international landlines.

- I didn't even know that was possible.
- How long to trace it?

Uh, that's hard to say.

I mean, Jarod's method is so basic,
so simple.

Uh, 20... 24 hours.

You have 12.

I can do it in eight.

The King file?

You certainly picked a sensitive one.

It's all downhill after this.

You-You should talk to Bilson.
This was his baby.

- How so?
- Well, it happened during his regular Tuesday night patrol.

So, Bilson was in charge.

It was a tough one too.
No one was sure how King's boat went down.

Never did find it.
This one was particularly sad.

Coroner said Tom King treaded water
a day and a half before he drowned.

For an S.A.R. Team that's come up empty...

that's the kind of news that hurts the most.

This report says that the
search patterns were based...

on water current information
provided by directional buoys.

Yep. I dropped them myself. Here.

Pilcher's Point.

That's the area Tom King was
known to have been fishing in.

So Bilson deployed standard grid
searches southeast of that point?

That's S.O.P. You seem to be following
this fine. What is the matter?

According to satellite monitoring...

the D.F. Buoys indicated that
the current was moving southwest.

- You're doing it wrong.
- Hmm?

Didn't you ever eat cookies as a kid?

They didn't have cookies where I grew up.

Where'd you grow up... Mars?

Sort of.

First, you twist the cookie...

so the top comes off like a little lid.

Then, you get all the white stuff off.

I pick it with my teeth,
but you can scrape it or lick it.

Then what do you do with the brown part?

Grown-ups put it in ice cream.

Why don't they just sell the white stuff?

It wouldn't be any fun.

Hmm.

Your mom works hard.

Since my dad died, that's all she does.

He's with St. Andrew...
the one for fishermen.

I got my dad a statue of him at church.

It was on his boat. They never found that.

It's hard to lose a parent. I know.

What part do you miss the most?

My mom's smile.

- I can't figure it out!
- You have to.

How much oxygen is left?

Less than 48 hours.

Well, what caused the explosion?

- We don't know!
- Fuel.

Oxygen.

There's nothing that can save us!

- It's your duty to save your crew!
- No! I can't do it!

You shut down now, you all die!

Come on, Jarod! Think!

Wait! Wait! I've got it! I've got it!

I can use the gravitational pull
of the moon to help get us back.

Very good, Jarod.
I knew you would save them if you wanted to.

They didn't want to save Tom King.

They wanted him to die.

What?

Oh! I intentionally wake you
in your deepest sleep phase...

and all I get is a lifeless "what"?

You want wit, read Noel Coward.

What time is it where you are?

Cute. Not funny, but cute.

You're making house calls now. I'm honored.

Well, I was feeling a little
guilty about my virtual phone game.

You know, I really should tape this
to replay at the Christmas party.

You'll be there, you know, rest assured.

- I'm not resting much at all these days.
- Breaking my heart.

So, Jarod...

why the Y.M.C. A?

I was watching retro night on VH1,
and they were doing the '70s...

which, as you know, I missed.

There was this singing group that was
extolling the virtues of staying at the "Y."

So, here I am.

Cute. Not funny, but cute.

Did you know that they make fake dog poop?

It's amazing...
how it appears to be one thing...

but it's really something
completely different.

And I should care because...

Well, this sort of thing could be
a real moneymaker for the Centre.

Besides, isn't it the perfect metaphor...

for the way your father and
the Centre distort the truth?

- And what truth is that, Jarod?
- It's all in the note I sent you.

The truth about what makes you sad.

I doubt the boys back at Katima Bay are
sittin' beach-side this time of year.

Probably freezing their butts off
on some futile cape-hopping S.A.R.

So, um, beside the obvious,
why pull up stakes?

Well, I was feeling kind of
cooped up where I was living.

So I decided to head out west.

I interviewed at the Channel
Islands Station first...

but I decided that this was the spot for me.

Well, you made the right decision.

The Channel Islands is full of our rejects.

- That's funny.
- Here you go, sir.

They said that this group
was a bunch of renegades.

That's a crock.

They said guys who couldn't rescue
a fisherman from their own bay...

didn't deserve to wear the uniform.

Were they talking about the King rescue?

Yes, I think that was the name they used.

Did something go wrong?

You know, it's amazing how the people
we put our lives on the line for...

can just turn around and smear
the Guard with one news story.

The man's wife took it hard. She blamed us.

I understand her tragedy.

I guess she had to blame somebody,
so she could deal with it.

I promise you.

We did everything we
could do to save that man.

We did our job.

Pilcher's Point is where Tom King...

was known to have been fishing.

The current was going southwest.

No one was sure how King's boat went down.
Never did find it.

What? I'm on my way.

It wasn't easy, but l-I have to admit...

figuring Jarod's mind is a real treat.

- He's a damn clever guy.
- He's a one-man Siegfried and Roy.

- Show me what you have.
- Okay.

We backtracked the call we thought
was coming from this Y.M.C. A...

from Jarod's room... Room 334.

Jarod interconnected 173
international calls...

but-but backtracking those
calls was impossible...

because instead of a call-forwarding
device triggered by a single call...

all 173 calls...

were individually initiated.

Ingenious.

And a hell of a lot of work for Jarod,
I might add, and very expensive.

I don't care what it cost.

Oh, that's good, because Jarod
charged it to your calling card.

Where is he?

Oh,
the-the last place we would expect to look.

- Room 335.
- In the same "Y"?

Yeah, in the very next room.

Gotcha.

I found this at a novelty shop on the pier.

- Yeah, very funny.
- Just when you think it's your lucky day...

you find out it's not.

So, what are you doing here?

Same as you. Looking for peace of mind.

And the answer to why she'll
never see her father again.

- Who the hell are you, huh?
- I don't really know.

But last night I became you...

and I realized why you come here so much...

why you feel so guilty...

and why you and Bilson didn't
save her father's life.

We searched for him for two days.

But you made sure that the search was in
areas that you knew he wouldn't be found.

You couldn't afford for him
to be found alive, could you?

You don't know what the
hell you're talking about!

I know you and Bilson make the same patrol
on the south sector every Tuesday night.

And every Wednesday afternoon,
you make a rather sizable deposit...

into your private account on Coronado.

So what kind of contraband were you running?

- You're crazy, man.
- Am I? The paint on the hull.

It's gonna match the rescue cruiser
that you and Bilson were in...

the night that he went down.

You can search everywhere
you want for salvation.

The only place you're gonna find it
is in the truth you're running from.

Me and Bilson meet a Mexican hauler...

named the Santa Marca every Tuesday night...

bringing in a shipment of something.

I think it's rock, but I'm not positive.

We're just paid delivery boys.

I don't know how we hit his boat.

I mean, it was foggy.
I just-just couldn't see it.

But we sheared it right in half.

And then...

Then I swung around and...

and I spotted him in the water.

He was still alive.

Yeah.

And he looked up at me, and...

and all I can think was...

"What a small world," you know?

I used to see him with his
daughter and his wife at Mass...

and I think he recognized me too.

And then he put his hand up to me.

So I tried to pull him on board...

but Bilson stopped me.

He literally put a gun to my
head and told me to leave him.

- And if you saved him...
- That we'd go to jail.

But I'll take prison in a heartbeat...

if I can get out of this hell I'm in.

Hey, could you do me a favor?

Now, that's funny.

I'm sorry I'm late, sir.

- Late for what?
- Patrol.

I just got the call this
morning about riding with you.

- Riding with me? Where's Javi?
- I don't know, sir.

They told me he was sick.

- Sick?
- Actually, I'm not feeling very well myself.

Bad sushi. Do you mind if I hit
the head and catch up with you?

Nah, sure, sure.

Is there something wrong?

No, everything's great.

All right. I will see you in a minute.

- Where's 45?
- I guess it's on patrol. The Christi's...

Yeah, purring. I know.

Javi?

Javi?

Santa Marca to Robin 247.
Santa Marca to Robin 247.

Come in, 247.

Are you insane? We don't have
scheduled radio contact until tonight.

We're confirming we got your message.

At your request,
the rendezvous will be at 10:00 a.m. Today.

You will be there, Javi? Hello? Javi?

Right. Today. I'll be there.

Adios.

Well, there you are, sir.

I'm ready if you are.

Oh, that's all right, Lieutenant.
It's-It's a routine patrol.

- I'll do it alone.
- Are you sure, sir?

- Yeah, yeah. Go take care of your gut.
- Well, thank you, sir.

You didn't tell us he lived next door.

You didn't ask.

Paint.

Come on.

Excuse me. Have either of you seen this man?

Well, that's great. That's just great.

Purring like a damn kitten.

Robin 247 to Santa Marca.
Come in, Santa Marca.

Rescue 45, come in. Is that you, Javi?

Rescue 45, you're on a direct
course to my craft. Veer off.

Rescue 45, veer off!

Rescue 45, you're coming right at me!

Rescue 45, veer off!

Hey!

- Oh, my God!
- What the hell's wrong with you, man?

- You blind or somethin'? Come on! Toss me a line!
- I can't, sir.

- What?
- I'm sorry, but I can't rescue you.

You're bucking for a court-martial,
Lieutenant!

Well, that is serious, sir.

But, you see, a court-martial,
it won't exactly affect me.

I'm not really a lieutenant. The truth is...

I'm not really in the Coast Guard.

You get me out of here!

Oh, don't worry. You'll be okay.

Men have been known to tread water for days.

- This isn't funny!
- Oh, you're right. It's terrifying.

You're all alone.

You can't see anything but water...

and you start thinking about
what might be down there...

what just bumped you below the surface.

But after a while,
your nerves will settle down.

But, unfortunately,
that's when your body starts to ache...

and the only way to stop the pain...

is to stop treading.

But then you start to sink.

And in that instant
between life and death...

you think about all the people and
all the things you left behind.

So you start fighting your
way back to the surface.

You fight for your life.

- You can't leave me here!
- Sure, I can.

Just like you left Tom King.

No!

No!

Excuse me, sir.
There's something you have to see.

What's this?

It's the truth, sir.

Rescue Unit 45 to Base.

Requesting pickup near D.F. Buoy number 29.

But take your time getting there.
Just a little floating debris.

There he is!

Hello, Jarod!

Hello, Sydney!

Give that to me!

There's nowhere to go this time!

Sydney raised me to believe
my mind can take me anywhere!

He's out of fuel.

Like I told you, Sydney.
The smart ones always do something stupid.

Get him.

- He's not there?
- How?

I don't know. But he left you this.

- Hiya, Roy!
- Jarod?

Nice day for a swim!

- What's that, Sydney?
- I don't know.

No! No!

- They're trying to hurt her!
- Stay here, Jarod.

- No!
- Get her out of the elevator!

Stop it!

- Get the kid out of here!
- Stop!

- Mama!
- No, keep her back! Keep her back!

- Leave me alone!
- No! Mama!

It's me.

I wanna know what really happened to my mom.

- Thanks, Roy.
- It ain't nothin'.

Magdeline's out there somewhere.

What are you gonna do?

I think I'll take a walk.

Thank you. How about you?

I think I'll take a drive.

Gentlemen, start your engines!

Okay, Jarod, you're set.