Dexter (2006–2013): Season 2, Episode 9 - Resistance Is Futile - full transcript

Previously on Dexter...

- Sorry.
- It doesn't change the fact

that you slept with another woman.

What do they have on me?

- They found something in your car.
- Shit.

Our primary suspect
is someone you know well.

- Sergeant James Doakes.
- He had the slides.

- You know me. That's not me.
- Don't you disappear on me.

What exactly is sergeant Doakes'
problem with you, Morgan?

I always sensed there was something...
off about him.

From here on out, we'll want
a protective detail on you at all times.



You're a good cop like your old man.

- Do you think they know?
- Not until you tell them.

He is not your man.

He may be your ex-partner
and best friend. To me, he's a suspect.

- What are you doing here?
- She came to see me.

Are you pissed or something
about Lila and me?

- Lila's just using you to get at me.
- So what?

A secret cabin
in the middle of the Everglades,

What more could a rededicated
serial killer ask for?

You're the Bay Harbor Butcher.

You're gonna have to kill me, Morgan!

You're gonna have
to fucking kill me, Morgan!

Is it deep?
I hope it's fucking deep.

It's a graze wound.
Minor tissue abrasion.



No hemorrhage along the bullet track.
Sorry. I think I'm gonna live.

Am I?

That's a good question.

If you're not gonna let me go,
then kill me now. Just get it over with.

I'd advise you
not to tempt me just now.

Why couldn't you just leave me
to do my work in peace?

Why'd you have to go
and ruin everything?

You're a killer. I catch killers.

So do I. I caught you.

I'm not a killer.

You are.

That's why you've always known
what I am.

That's why you have
more officer-related shootings

than anybody else.

There's nothing professional
about what you do.

I kill when I have to on the job.

So it's okay to take a life
as long as you get a paycheck for it?

The city pays me to keep the law.

I've got news for you, sergeant.

My code requires a higher standard
of proof than your city's laws.

At zero cost for the taxpayer?
If you ask me, I'm a bargain.

That's enough bullshit, Morgan.

Let's get this over with.

Either kill me or set me free. So?

I think you'd like it if I killed you
just to prove your point.

- You gotta choose.
- No, I need to go home.

I've got FBI guards
standing outside my door right now...

to protect me from you.

What's it gonna be, Morgan?

Kill me now or set me free!
You only have two choices!

You can't fucking ignore me!

What's wrong?
The place is a ghost town this early.

Besides, I thought we were out
as a couple.

Out and flaunting it
are two different things.

- "Don't ask, don't tell"?
- Works for the military.

Not really.

My subpoena
for Doakes' phone records came through.

- He isn't much of a talker.
- Not a lot of friends, I'm guessing.

Except for one. Check this out.

That's Lt Laguerta's phone
number. Look at the time and date.

He called her right after we launched
the manhunt.

- We could have traced that call.
- Doubt it.

Sgt Doakes wouldn't have stayed on
long enough,

But Laguerta
should have given us the chance.

You're gonna ream her, aren't you?

Can I be there?
It's a hobby of mine.

You can ream her yourself.

Me?

- I can't dress down my own boss.
- It's your subpoena.

- Your case.
- Our case.

And I need to know
if your Lt can be counted on.

You know her better than I do.

- Lox?
- Gross.

That would just get me
in deeper shit with her,

and Laguerta already hates me.

I'm not always gonna be around
to run interference.

Come on.

You got at least five,
10 good years left in you.

I mean I won't be around
once this case ends.

So a reaming will be good practice
for you after I'm gone.

I better refrigerate this.

Taking a life is one thing,

but the care and feeding of it
is another.

I can't keep my problem locked away
in a cabin forever.

Harry always said there were
plenty of people who deserved to die,

but no matter
how hard I close my eyes and wish,

Doakes isn't one of them.

Harry, you never prepared me
for this one.

What do I do?

What would you do?

Get a description of Juan Ryness
to every unit in the city,

and wake up judge Morehouse. I need
a warrant for Ryness' apartment now.

- Fisk, make sure you get that print...
- She was dumped?

Get back inside the car
like I told you.

Blunt trauma to the head?

I went over there.
No one saw.

The blow to the head killed her.
She took a brutal beating beforehand.

The guy who did this
is an evil bastard.

- You know who it was?
- Yeah.

I've been trying to get him for a while.

A pimp named Juan Ryness.
She was one of his girls.

- She was dumped, right?
- Get back in the truck.

You awake?

- You for real?
- You got a visitor.

Coffee?

Yeah. Why not?

I heard the news. It's everywhere.

Sgt Doakes
is the Bay Harbor Butcher?

That's what they're saying.

I was right about you.
Are you okay?

Why is the fbi guarding your building?

You know the federal government.

Any excuse to spend money.

It's cold.

Sorry.

There's nothing better
on a muggy Miami morning

than an iced coffee, right?

How are the kids?

They asked about you again.

And they've been pretty confused
since we split up.

Yeah. me too.

Are you still confused?

I'm generally confused
most of the time...

But not about us.

Good.

It's not good?

No. It's...

great,

to have this

clarity.

I'm really glad you feel that way.

The kids
have been through so much lately.

With Paul's death
and my mom moving out,

I don't want them to feel like they've
been abandoned by everyone they love.

Does this mean we're dating again?

That would be kind of fast,
wouldn't it?

I mean, you're so important to them,

and they need you.

But... I don't know.

I mean, maybe we could just...

Hang.

Like a sloth.

I can do that.

Well, if you're free on Saturday,
we're gonna spend the day at the beach,

and maybe we could all hang together.

A family of sloths.

Let me get you some ice.

I've been selfish,
only thinking about what happens to me.

But if I were ever revealed
as the true Bay Harbor Butcher,

Rita and her children
would be destroyed.

- I need you to take a look at these.
- I know what they are.

You didn't report the call from Doakes.

Your task force doesn't need my help
railroading a good cop.

Doakes was officially
a person of interest.

Not reporting it could be considered
aiding and abetting.

None of you wanted to hear what
he had to say, so I didn't tell you.

- What did he have to say?
- That he's innocent.

You believe him?

What do you think?

- And if he calls again?
- He won't.

- And you know this...
- Because I know him.

- I thought I knew someone, too.
- I know him!

So if Lundy wants to flag me
to captain Matthews,

you tell him to go for it.

But James knows that I believe in him,
so it was worth the risk.

To your job?

To your career?

You ever care about anyone, Morgan?

Then you shouldn't have to ask.

'Cause when you care about someone,
you do what you have to do.

Four different aliases
all issued by the DOD.

during Doakes' stint
with special forces.

We've attached these names
to our temporary felony want, so...

if he uses one, we'll be notified.

I remember when life was easy,

when the only question
I worried about was "who's next?"

Now it's: "How can I dodge
my protective detail?

"What should I do with my hostage?"

These are not easy questions.

Would you bring us up to speed
on the analysis from the blood slides?

Of the 46 slides, 18 belonged
to previously known butcher victims.

We're still running the DNA,
but we've matched an additional 12

with felons in the criminal database,
all reported missing.

We'll proceed on the assumption
that these 12 were Bay Harbor victims.

It's a fair assumption.

Do you have
the new victims' jackets?

Sorry, Sir. Not my responsibility.

That'd be me.

Each of the 12 had at least
one homicide on their records,

and we all know
how the Butcher loves a killer.

We're checking into their last known
whereabouts and any connection

that their criminal cases
may have had with Sgt Doakes.

Forensics, expect
a steady stream of evidence

seized from our suspect's apartment
over the next few hours.

Look for any trace evidence
that could connect him to these victims.

The rest of you have your assignments.

Let's bring him in.

- Is your sister all right?
- I wouldn't know.

But I wanted to talk to you
about my protective detail.

Angel, I hear you have
12 new Butcher victims.

- Potential victims.
- You got names?

Mind if I keep this?

We're all working together now.
Why? You got an angle on Doakes?

That's good.

That's real good.

This is a waste of time.
If Doakes is the butcher,

we won't find trace evidence
on his clothes.

The guy we're after
is way too careful for that.

I have to agree with you there.

You think it could be Doakes?

It's not about what I think.
It's all about the evidence.

All those times
he called me "lab geek,"

"fairy winkle", "donkey fluffer"...

I'm just glad I took it lying down,
you know?

What the fuck, Dex?

- What which fuck?
- You got rid of your protective detail?

She's gonna hit you, isn't she?

She's gonna hit someone
if you don't get the fuck out of here.

Hair-pulling may not be manly,
but it's very effective.

Doakes fucking hates you, Dex.

- No doubt about that.
- And he's a trained killer.

If he wanted me dead,
I'd be dead by now.

It's supposed to be reassuring?

He's a lot of things
but he's not an idiot.

He won't come out of the shadows
because of a grudge.

Right.

Cause serial killers are so practical.

Actually, they are.

I'm safer with Lundy's troops
hunting Doakes

- than babysitting me. Lundy agrees.
- Because he doesn't give a shit!

All he cares about
is solving this case and moving on!

I thought he was the guy
you could count on.

You are the only one I can count on,
jackass.

Got to give Deb credit for one thing:
She knows how to express her feelings.

If I was convicted as the Butcher,
she'd probably explode.

It'd be a waste
of a perfectly good cop...

and sister.

This isn't just about me anymore.
It's about Deb...

and Rita and the kids.

I have only one choice for Doakes.

Shit.

All right.

Yes.

No reason for you to suffer.

You come to a decision?

Yes, but I don't think
you're gonna like it.

So this is the way it ends.

Regardless of how we got here,

one of the two killers in this cabin
has to go away.

- I am not a killer.
- Right.

In terms of who goes, it boiled down
to a philosophical question.

Which one of us
has more inherent worth?

I know you're fucking kidding me.

First I considered our value
to the community.

That was a wash.

We're both loyal civil servants.

We work hard to keep the city clean.

- You cut people up into little pieces.
- Then...

I looked at our personal lives.

And... well,

That's where the differences
became clearer.

Strange as it may seem,

I have people who depend on me.

They would be devastated
if they found out what I do.

You, sergeant, you're more
of a lone wolf, easier to put down.

No one in the pack to miss you.

Fuck you.

Fuck you! I have a family.
I have my mother and my sisters.

Who you never visit.

It puts a pit in my stomach

that I can only interpret as...

sadness.

If you had a personal life,

you wouldn't have made me your obsession
and we wouldn't be here right now.

Sergeant, why would you hide
a dead drug dealer's cellphone from me?

You working on an exit strategy?
I'm afraid that's not gonna happen.

If you want to bring me down,

you're gonna have
to open this goddamn cage first.

So come on. Bring it.

I already did.
You just didn't know it.

Mother fuck...

The sedative works fast.
It's probably best just to go with it.

You think you're a fucking hero, right?
Cleaning up the fucking streets.

Your old man would be proud.

My old man was proud.

He knew?

He really was a fucking whack job.

Name-calling at this juncture?

What's the point?

Besides, my father was a legend
on the force.

That's what you think?

They never told you.

Told me? Told me what?

What about my father?

What about my father?

A missed call.

If it's Dexter,
tell him to come over.

- I have Auri on Saturday.
- Auri? What's an Auri?

It's my little girl.

My ex never lets me see her
on the weekends,

but something came up.

I have her all day on Saturday.

Delightful.

But tonight you belong to me...

Yes.

... and my walls.

Doakes said I had two choices.

Kill him or let him go.

But he neglected to look
behind door number three:

Hand him over to the FBI gift-wrapped.

I don't need Doakes dead.

I just need his fingerprints
to complete my frame job.

Almost forgot.

One needs small comforts.

Every Saturday,
beginning dive classes

practice underwater skills
beside this dock.

Tomorrow they'll find
a morbid little surprise.

When the feds receive these kill tools
with their suspect's prints on them,

the only threat to me will be
the inane rants of a murderous madman.

So close, I can feel it.

This tragic tale might still end

in Doakes' demise,
but not by my hands.

Harry's legacy will remain intact.

Why in the hell did Doakes
have to bring up Harry?

Come on.

You just cut the cake, sweetheart.
I'll see who it is.

- Tom! This is a surprise. Come on in.
- Thanks.

Sweetheart, cut the lieutenant a slice.
It's her birthday.

Happy birthday, hon.
But no cake for me, thanks.

- Can I talk to you in private?
- Sure.

Save me an end piece.

God damn it!

Ryness is gonna walk
because of a goddamn typo?

Faulty warrant. Nothing we can do.

- This is bullshit!
- Harry!

Don't worry.

- Ryness'll make another mistake.
- Yeah, right.

We just wait for him
to kill another girl!

Sorry.

Happy birthday, kiddo.

I'll get the vacuum cleaner.

You OK, Dad?

I did the right thing
in training you.

This just proves it.

I did the right thing.

Will you wait?

- What's going on here?
- Nothing, according to you.

So I said something?

Only that this relationship
has an expiration date.

If you wanna write it off
before it even begins, go ahead.

- When did I say that?
- Yesterday,

you said, "when the case ends, we end."
I'm paraphrasing.

I thought you understood
when we got involved.

I track killers. That's what I do.

- They tend to move around.
- I know that.

Then I'm not sure what you thought
would happen when the case ended.

Honestly, I hadn't thought about it,

but it looks like you have,
so now I know.

Consider me informed.

One.

How come there's never a circus
when you need one?

I don't know. I'm not sure
I've ever felt that particular need.

Help me out here.

- What does a 7-year-old girl like?
- Astor likes CNN.

Yeah. That's not gonna fly.

I got Auri all day on Saturday.

I want to do something fun.

Ideally, a lot more fun than the stuff
her mother does with her.

It's really not that hard
to entertain a kid.

Rita and I are taking hers to the beach
on Saturday.

See, that sounds perfect.

It'd be great if we could tag along.

Sure, I guess.

We'll be there all afternoon.

- Sorry, but what's with the highlights?
- I was

helping Lila paint her loft last night.

Red. The color of pasi?n.

Yeah. About Lila.

It's probably better for everyone

if she doesn't come along on Saturday.

Bro, I'm not stupid.

Lila is like my after-hours project.

Besides, she should stay off
the beach with skin like that.

Like a perfect porcelain doll.

"Paid 4 my lift ticket.
Where's my snow?

"Don't make me come after you."

Sounds like Mr. Harlow is not only
a master of metaphor,

but also inclined toward
violent confrontation.

Better find out who he is
in case I have to deal with him.

Armed with a phone number, obtaining
the mysterious text-messenger's I.D.

wasn't too hard, but is he a threat?

"Christopher Harlow,
known alias for Jose Garza."

"Narcotics, armed robbery,

"and currently a fugitive
from justice for murder.

"Approach with caution."

This guy could be trouble
if he has knowledge

of a certain cabin in the Everglades.

I'm safe.

Happy trails, Harlow.

Fuck! Sneak much?

Sorry. I wanted to ask you something.

That is some big hair.

Hard to believe he's our guy.

Amazing how easy it is to hide
who you are from people.

Not that easy.

I was thinking about your birthday.

You got like three months. Just get me
a gift certificateat Amazon.

Good to know, but the birthday
I was thinking about was...

when Dad threw the beer bottle.

Jesus.

Out of the blue.
What brought that up?

Harry's been on my mind lately.

I was trying to remember...

Matthews came over that night,
right?

Yeah.

He and dad got in a fight.

I ended up wiping beer off the walls.
Happy birthday to me.

A killer went free.
That would upset any cop, right?

- Nothing weird about that.
- No, it wasn't weird.

It was just another example
of dad's priorities.

Kids versus case, case always won.

Did he say anything else about it
to you?

Right.

Dad sitting down with me
to have a heart-to-heart.

Not that I didn't want to.

- Maybe you should have told him that.
- Yeah.

Maybe.

Deb had it rough. Harry had
his hands full teaching me a trade.

But was there something else
going on with him,

or was Doakes just trying
to shake me up?

I need to know
if there's more to the story.

There's a complication I don't need.

- Hey, baby, what brings you back?
- I have two more walls at home

waiting for your expertise
as a painter.

There's nothing I'd like to do more,
but...

But what, darling?

I pick up Auri, remember?

We'll meet Dexter and Rita
at the beach.

I have a friend at Miami art museum,

teaches an incredible children's class.
Air-conditioned.

Bring the whole gang if you like.

You mind if I take a rain check?

With your history with Dexter,
it might be a little awkward.

He tries to work things out
with Rita.

Is he, now?

You have a great day.

And watch out for those sand fleas.

Damn. She better be worth it.

What was that shit last night?
Some kind of fucking scare tactic?

You said something
before you passed out about my father.

- What was it?
- I don't know.

What was it?
I was kind of drugged at the time.

Don't test me.

I could have killed you.

I didn't.

You didn't because you can't.

I've had time to think about this.

I don't fit that code
you were talking about, do I?

At first, I thought the Butcher
only went after criminals

because nobody gives a damn
what happens to them, but now...

- Now I think you got a conscience.
- Of course I have a conscience.

I left you a place to shit, didn't I?

It's a small conscience.

You're actually angry.

I've never seen you angry.
This is good.

I might live to see the outside
of this cabin after all.

What'd you say about Harry?
The words "whack job" were involved.

Is that what you're worried about?

I guess it would bother me too
if it were my old man.

OK. What the fuck?

You know how I've been looking
into your past, right?

That's why you're in a cage.

I found something
I wasn't supposed to see.

- It's about your father's death.
- Heart disease. Big mystery.

No, the mystery's bigger than that.

And someone up high
didn't want it solved.

You're lying.

It was buried deep, but it was there.

What was there?

How about we go outside
and talk about this?

I could use some air.

- Not gonna happen.
- Yeah? Well,

then the mystery remains.

I'm sure special ops
taught you to rattle your captor,

but I should warn you.

You can't play on my feelings.

I don't have any.

Oh, really?

Who's lying now?

Slow down.

That's it.

- Hello, Dexter.
- Captain.

Please. I'm a civilian today.
Call me Tom.

You start your round yet?

I'm afraid Bayshore
is a little outside my pay scale.

So what brings you here
on a Saturday morning?

I wanna know if there's anything unusual
about my father's death.

Go on ahead. I'll catch up.

His heart gave out. You know that.

- I heard there was more to it.
- From whom?

Does it matter?

I guess it was inevitable
you'd find out one of these days.

You know, Harry was a good friend.

He was a great cop.

But...

It's a tough job.

It can wear on even the best of us.

My father was always firmly in control.

That he was, but towards the end...

Look, Dexter.

The system doesn't always work.

Sometimes they get away.
You know that.

And that just got harder and harder
for Harry to deal with.

I think that's what did him
in in the end.

What did?

What am I missing here?

He killed himself, Dexter.

How?

The autopsy showed an overdose
of his heart medicine.

That happens all the time.
People accidentally take the wrong dose.

He called me the day before he died.

He asked me to keep an eye on you
and your sister.

I didn't realize what that call meant
until he was gone.

So I made sure that autopsy
never saw the light of day.

I was looking out for the two of you
like I said I would.

I'm sorry, Dexter.

Why don't we go to the club
and have a drink?

- We can talk some more.
- No.

Thank you.

The legendary Harry Morgan,

force for justice,
architect of all that I am.

Suicide?

It doesn't make sense.

Special agent Lundy?

- I have good news.
- I could use it. What do you got?

Proof that James Doakes

can't possibly be
the Bay Harbor Butcher.

You're looking at the file of a stakeout
James and I were on as partners

7 years ago.

Very detailed.

We were doing surveillance
when one of your victims,

Larry Mueller, went missing.

James and I were holed up
in a motel room 24/7 for two weeks.

He didn't have time to piss,
much less abduct and murder a man.

I respect your compassion
for a friend and colleague,

but I'm afraid this proves nothing.

It proves that he was with me.

It's all here, specific dates and times.

- These are my personal stakeout logs.
- And they're very thorough,

but I can't use them.

No. This is bullshit.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.
You can't ignore legitimate evidence!

I can, and I will ignore it
because you gave me no choice, lady.

Those are your personal logs,

and your credibility was compromised
when you failed to report a phone call

from the subject
of a goddamn FBI manhunt.

It was a breach of protocol and ethics,

and you're lucky
I don't bring you up on charges.

What really pisses me off

is you might be right.
But in trying to protect your friend,

you blew the best shot we had
of bringing him in from the cold.

Come back to me
if you find evidence I can use.

I smell...

monster meat!

I got ya!

I tagged you.

- So?
- So you're a monster now.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Come on, socio. I'm sucking gas here.

Sorry, angel.
My leg's a little tight today.

It's too soon, isn't it?

For this. For us.

Rita, that's not it at all.

Then what is it?

I always thought my father died
of heart disease.

And I just found out that's not true.
He committed suicide.

God.

I don't know why he would do that
to himself...

... or me.

Baby...

Whatever Harry did and why,

I can't let it distract me
from my mission.

Not when freedom is so close.

"Found out where your cabin is.
On my way. I want my fucking snow."

No one appreciates
uninvited houseguests.

Unless I can make the problem
part of my solution.

Are you Chad?

It depends on what you're looking for.

Tim said to come to you.

The rohypnol.

Roofies?

You?

You're just not
my normal kind of customer.

Do stop talking.

Good luck with that.

Thanks for coming.

I thought we should talk.

I should talk.

I mean...

I yell a lot...

and bitch and complain,

and I keep expecting people to guess
what I want, but I never really say it.

I'd like to hear it.

You asked me what I thought would happen
when the case ended.

And the truth is

I had no fucking idea.

And that was...

Exciting, you know?

The not knowing.

What might happen, what could be.

It was all

possibility.

And when you just assumed
that we ended when the case ended,

you crushed that.

And I want it back.

Wanna know what I thought would happen
when the case ended?

What?

I thought the novelty
of my AARP discount would wear off,

and you'd get tired of me.

My God.

That's the sweetest thing
you've ever said.

On our way.

What we got?

A hit on one of Doakes' false I.Ds
at a car-rental agency.

Make, model, and license plate.

Let's go.

My hero.

This place looks like brand-new.

It's my pleasure,

Though I feel a little loopy
from the fumes.

So how was your day at the beach?

Auri wore me out.

You ever try and run in the sand?

I never run.
You're a better man than me.

I'm glad you think so.

And how are Dexter and Rita?

Things are good for them.

I mean...

I think they're gonna work things out.

We going somewhere?

Well, you know,

I've been trying to hold off.

But...

I don't know. I don't want to anymore.

I think it's time.

I need you.

You can have me.

The thing is...

I like it rough.

- Who the fuck is that?
- Some guy I picked up in a bar.

He's a known murderer
and your final victim.

- You gonna do what I think you are?
- There's no point in hiding it now.

Your life is going to rest in the hands

of the criminal justice system
you put all your faith in.

- I wish you the best of luck.
- Come on.

We were just getting somewhere,
you and me. You ain't gotta do this.

Come on. We'll find a way.

I'm afraid this is the only way for me.

Excuse me. I need to get my supplies.

You are a very bad girl.

I'm only just getting started, baby.

Be right back.

Lila, you want a beer?

Jesus.

This is detective angel Batista
from Miami Metro homicide.

I need an ambulance.

There is no way people
are gonna believe I did this shit.

You were US special forces.
I'm sure you have done this.

Wartime circumstances,
heat of the battle.

But never cold-blooded.

I'm sure that made things easier
for you.

Morgan, goddamn it,
you got a conscience.

You said it yourself.
You go after killers.

You take out killers. I get that.
But this is some sick-fuck ritual.

You need help. Let me help you.

Don't worry, I won't make you
watch. I'm not uncivilized.

Morgan, no!

You don't have to do this!
You don't have to kill this man!

This man is a felon with a body count.
He brought it on himself.

Morgan, turn him over to the law.

I live by my father's law.

Morgan, don't do this!

Shit.

Sorry it had to go down like this.
But there really was no other way.

Sergeant?

Stay away.

Just stay away from me.

I've heard those words before...

Three days before my father's death.

Hey, dad.

Look what I did.

It's Juan Ryness,
the pimp who killed that girl.

I finally got him for you.

Dad, what's wrong? Are you okay?

Just stay away... please.

Stay away.

It was me.

The idea of a code was one thing...

A grand idea.

A noble cause.

But the reality of it?

Harry walked in on what he created...

And he couldn't live with himself.

What, Morgan?

What now?

I killed my father.

resync by --pano--