Diagnosis Murder (1993–2001): Season 6, Episode 5 - Blood Will Out - full transcript

Gross examination
of John Doe number three

reveals a male,
approximate age 35 years,

primary injury
a gunshot wound to the head.

The bullet severed
the carotid artery,

which, combined with the gunshot
wound to the left wrist,

resulted in exsanguination...
Death.

Hey. You're all alone in here.

Well, the only
warm body, anyway.

Where's your staff?

I sent them home.

Wow. Before or after
the restaurant shooting



was called in?

After.

Leaving you with about
a half dozen autopsies.

That's right.

That's a very interesting
management strategy you have.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but
isn't it the boss who goes home

and gets a good night's sleep

while the underpaid,
underappreciated underlings

stay here
until 2:00 a.m.?

Not if the boss
is responsible
for the budget

and we have already maxed out

on our employee overtime.

Okay?

Oh, I see.



So then the advantage
of being a boss is...

Bags under the eyes,
an aching back

and a very short temper.

Bye-bye, Jesse.

Bye. I'll see you tomorrow.

Case number 782269.

Subject is a Caucasian male,

approximately
30 to 35 years of age.

77 inches long, 220 pounds.

Preliminary external examination
reveals a gunshot entry wound

to the left frontal parietal
region of the scalp.

There's no apparent burn
or gunpowder residue

or tippling present.

He apparently suffered
from massive blood...

Help!

No one saw him leave,

and a naked guy
with half his head blown off

is kind of hard to miss,

so I want an officer
at every exit, understood?

Yes, sir.

You're lucky to be alive.

Not half as lucky
as the man who attacked me.

How does a mistake
like this happen?

Well, when the E.M.T.'s
got to that restaurant,

they found a massacre.

It was a crisis situation.

You know, if the bullet entered
just under his scalp

and skimmed along the skull,

it would've caused massive
blood loss, unconsciousness

and also a barely
detectable pulse.

Any E.M.T. would've said,
"Bag him. He's dead,"

and moved on to somebody
who still had a chance...

Like that waitress

we still have in surgery.

Well, that explains why he was

mistaken for dead,
but it doesn't

explain why he tried to kill me.

My guess is it had
something to do

with the shooting,
and if that's true,

he faces six counts of murder...

Seven if that waitress
doesn't pull through.

No wonder he didn't want
to stick around.

Help if we knew who he was.

And he took off
with all the victims' toe tags,

their files,
their personal effects.

He's thinking clearly for a guy
with a bullet in his head.

Either that or he's deranged,

which makes him a danger
to everybody in the hospital.

Allo?

Hey, bonjour, Celine.

Hey, what's it like
in Paris this morning, huh?

Oh, yeah.

Well, I've been thinking
about you.

Yeah, stuff.

Good stuff, yeah.

So, do the croissants really
taste better over there?

Yeah? Do you miss me?

Hey, I'm saving myself
for you, baby.

Till you get back, I'm a monk.

Yeah. Oui.

No, no. Don't rush off.

Money means nothing to me.

We can talk as long as you want.

- Henri?
- Allo?

This man is injured,

and he's dangerous

and very possibly,
he's delusional,

so if you see him, do not try
to handle him yourself.

Call security immediately.

I don't want anybody around here
taking any chances.

Any questions?

Okay. Let's get back to work.

We lifted a bloody
fingerprint off the
stairwell railing.

We're running it through
N.C.I.C. right now.

Then he's definitely
in the building.

Mm-hmm. That waitress
come out of surgery yet?

Yeah, but she just had
a bullet taken out of her chest.

It'll be a while before she
comes out of the anesthesia.

Well, let's hope it's soon.

She's the only
witness we've got.

Susan, we have a possible
subdural hematoma.

Start an I.V., ringers,
give me a cranial C.T.

And monitor his
blood pressure closely.

What happened to the orderly?

John Doe just broke
a mop handle over his head

about 15 minutes ago.

Where?

On the third floor.

Did he see anything?

Just stars.

This is Sloan.

Get a team to the
third floor now.

What was he doing
on the third floor?

Distributing meds...

Between long-distance
phone calls to France.

Can you get me an
inventory of his cart?

His cart? Sure, yeah.

Show your light over this way.

There?

Yeah. You see anything?

Let's check this out.

See anything?

Those cranial C.T.'s
just came in.

Thanks.

Huh. Looks like our orderly's
skull is pretty thick...

Like the guy who hit him.

Let's keep him overnight
for observation.

I've got to go get the inventory
of his cart up to Mark.

I was thinking...

we both have
a couple of days off
starting tomorrow.

What do you say we
finally go up to Carmel?

Shh!

Come here.

No.

But we've always talked
about going,

and we've never been.

Because every time we try to go,

something very,
very bad happens.

Like the time the Metrorail
tunnel collapsed

and left our E.R.
full of casualties.

That's a coincidence.

What about the time
your car blew up

and your garage burned down?

That was a freak situation.

No, no, I'm telling you,

we even start thinking
about going to...

and, you know, we're both
in a lot of danger.

But I love Car...

Don't say it!

Carmel.
It's just so romantic.

You know, so is my apartment.

We could stay there.

That settles it.

I'm going to Carmel
with or without you.

Susan, we got a dead guy walking
around the hospital already.

You're going to make it worse.

Susan...

I ran prints on all
of the cadavers.

I was able to
I.D. them all.

Lanette Baker...
Real estate agent;

Tony Lowitz... insurance broker;

Diane Merrill...
Aspiring actress;

Keith Farley, reporter
for the
L.A. Chronicle;

Lorraine McCormick... tax lawyer;

and Bruce Pollard...
Occupation unknown.

However, he had 50
unpaid parking tickets
attached to his name.

Meet Gregory Othon.

Yes, I've already
had the displeasure.

What do you know about him?

Only that he's
got a California
driver's license

but the address on
it is a vacant lot.

Not a good sign.

That's what keeps guys
like me employed.

John Doe took some meds
from an orderly's cart.

His name is Gregory Othon.

Othon? Should've stuck
with John Doe.

Can I get copies
of that distributed

to all the nurses and doctors?

Yeah. Consider it done.
Susan?

Othon took Percocet,

erythromycin, Bactrim
and ampicillin.

A painkiller and
three antibiotics.

They're not exactly worth
a lot on the street.

A lot of patients
come into the E.R.

faking injuries for a chance
to steal some pills,

so you learn quickly which meds
are on their shopping list.

Which is why I can't figure out
why anyone would steal

sterile gloves, Carbocaine
or Betadine, either.

When did that happen?

I don't know,

but it looks like a hurricane
hit the supply closet.

Are you missing any suture kits?

Yes. How did you know?

Steve, we got to hurry.

Where?

To a vacant O.R.

Othon's operating on himself.

How can we be sure
he's in there?

He took all the drugs
and surgical instruments

he needed to remove that
bullet from his scalp.

Whoever he is, he's
got medical knowledge.

Stay back.

He was here.

We were too late.

At least we know why he stayed.

He'll be making his
break for it now.

I'm going to double
the men at every exit.

His picture's being passed
all over the hospital.

I'm sure we're gonna
catch him soon.

Well, don't
underestimate him, Jess.

How can you underestimate

someone you don't know
anything about?

Well, we know more
than you think.

He's clever, he's methodical,
and he has medical experience.

And a very high
tolerance for pain.

He took a bullet to the head.

He's still walking around
beating up people.

And he has something to hide.

Like his exposed skull
for starters.

No.

The address on his
driver's license is false,

and I am sure that's not all.

Otherwise, he wouldn't
have attacked Amanda.

He would have asked for help.

I need to see a doctor.

I don't feel so good.

The excitement never ends.

This is all we have
for right now.

Let's get a blood sample

and see if it tells us
anything at all.

All right.

Man, it's been a slow night
in neurosurgery.

Not one consult
since 10:00.

I could have gone home
five hours ago.

If you ask me,

the slow ones are tougher
than the busy ones.

Man, what happened to you?

I've been vomiting all day.

Why didn't you
come in any sooner?

I had to get our bid faxed
to Budapest by midnight

or we could have lost
a $3 million account.

You've been working non-stop

to get it done, huh?

For two days.

Did you eat all your meals
at your desk?

I'm thinking of replacing
my blotter with a tablecloth.

So, what do you think
is wrong with me anyway?

Well, nothing
that a career change

and a vacation won't cure.

Have you ever been to Carmel?

Ah! In the meantime,

we're going to
put you on an I.V.,
replace your fluids

and get you some Compazine

to alleviate that nausea.

Excuse me.

This is Dr. Travis.

I got the results of
my background check
on Gregory Othon.

He has no background.

Excuse me?

I ran him through
every database we've got:

N.C.I.C., V.I.C.A.P.,

Social Security,
immigration, the I.R.S.

He's not in any of them.

It's almost as if
he never existed.

Well, what is it with this guy?

First, he's supposed to be dead,

then he doesn't exist?

I don't know,
but I'm going to find out.

Guys, there's been
another attack.

This the man who attacked you?

Could be, but the guy
who hit me didn't have a beard.

He was in pretty
bad shape, though,

hiding a bleeding head wound
under his scrub cap.

What happened to him?

He was shot.

You telling me
I got my butt kicked

by a half-dead guy
brandishing a shoe?

Well, he got you by surprise.

I got a black belt
in karate at home.

Maybe you should have worn it.

It's got to be Othon.

Only he just got a lot
harder to recognize.

Shaved his beard.

He's just trying
to pass himself off

as another doctor in scrubs.

Well, Steve, he's
lost a lot of blood.

He's in no shape
to even be walking,

much less engaging in
hand-to-hand combat.

He's got to rest sometime.

How many beds
are in this hospital?

Four hundred.

I'm going to have
to get some more men.

How long do I have to stay here

with that needle in my hand?

Eight to 12 hours.

No way. I've got to be
at my desk at 9:00 a.m.

working on the Triax
Multiproducts proposal.

Cassidy is just
looking for an excuse

to take my corner office.

You have been
throwing up all night.

You're dehydrated.

If you don't replace
those fluids,

you could go into shock and die.

I bet Cassidy would
just love that.

You know Cassidy.

Don't we all?

Hi.

Hi.

I've booked a room
at the Windermere in Carmel.

Please tell me
that you're joking.

Ocean view, Jacuzzi,
four-poster bed.

All right, now you've done it.

I mean, we might as well
stuff our shorts with chum

and go diving into
a pool of sharks.

You're being ridiculous.

I'm be...

I wouldn't cross
any intersections
if I were you.

What do you got?

Car accident.

We had to peel him
out of his dashboard.

Neck, chest and hip trauma.

Okay, let's start him

on five milligrams of morphine.

I want an I.V. push,
type and cross, C.B.C.

Cross-table c-spine.

Oh, um, Dr. Travis needs
an orthopedic consult.

Could you get Dr. Bishop
down here for me?

Mm-hmm.

Thanks.

Oh, my God! Ms. White?

She was my patient.

I admitted her for food
poisoning about an hour ago.

It doesn't look like
she responded too well

to your treatment.

She wanted to leave.

I made her stay.

Jesse, you couldn't have known.

Couldn't have known what?

That a dead guy rose off
the slab in pathology

and is stalking the hospital?

I did know and I
admitted her anyway.

Othon killed her,
Jesse, not you.

That's great. Remind me of that
when I talk to her next of kin.

When you do, ask them
what she was doing

in this operating theater.

You might ask them
what she was doing with this.

That's got to be Othon's.

Not unless he hid it

in a body cavity
when they brought him in.

So this woman
fakes food poisoning

so she can roam the halls
with a silenced gun?

I mean, why would
anybody do that?

Because I ordered her to.

Who are you

to be giving orders
in my hospital?

Martin Rutgers,
National Security Agency.

Lieutenant Steve Sloan,
homicide.

My father is head
of internal medicine

at Community General.

Neither one of us was informed

that there was an
NSA operation in the hospital.

I'm sorry for any inconvenience.

Inconvenience?

This is a crime scene.

Not anymore.

You're interfering with
the investigation of a homicide.

Either you call off
your men, or I'm arresting you.

Is there a place where we
can talk in private?

Come with me.

Susan.

This was a U.S. embassy
in Addis Ababa.

This was a police station
in Kosovo.

Yeah, we've seen
the pictures on TV.

Maybe you saw
this one, too, then.

You're saying Othon
was responsible

for these bombings?

That's our belief.

You want to tell me

what an international
terrorist was doing

having dinner at a Mexican
restaurant in Palms?

Othon isn't a terrorist.

He's the hired help.

Today's events suggest
that the last people

who hired him weren't
too pleased with his work.

Six innocent people
were butchered

because someone wanted
this one man dead?

We considered ourselves
fortunate it wasn't 600.

When we learned
that Othon had died,

we considered ourselves blessed.

A state of grace that ended

when I ran his fingerprint
through N.C.I.C.

And you
didn't bother
to let us know

that he was
loose in
the hospital.

Whom should I
have informed, Doctor?

You saw what happened

the last time Othon's
enemies found him.

You want the same kind
of carnage here?

Lieutenant Sloan,

it is my intention
to lock down this building

until we have Othon
in our custody or he is dead.

Are you going to cooperate

or do you still
want to arrest me?

Security has a complete
schematic of the building.

I'll take you there.

Thank you.

You know, there's one thing
I still don't understand.

Once you knew Othon was
alive, why didn't you

lock down
the hospital immediately?

Othon was seriously wounded,

probably near death.

Alana White was
my top operative.

I assumed that
she could take him.

I won't make that mistake again.

Easy, buddy.

Come on! Let me in!

Sorry to disturb you, sir.

What is it, Jess?

He got Susan.

Susan?

Susan Hilliard.
She's a nurse.

Skills?

Uh, excellent. Why?

Show me those schematics.

Wh-What's going on in here?

Maybe we're about
to find out, Jess.

Leave it!

Who are you?

What do you want?

Help.

You want a nurse,
find a call button.

Is this why you killed
that other woman?

You were trying
to get her to help you?

I need your help.

Why?

I told Amanda to call me

the minute she got the blood
test results on Othon.

Do you think his
blood will spell out

directions on how to find Susan?

Because, if not, we're
wasting our time.

Where are you going?

Well, I'm gonna see if
Rutgers needs any help.

At least he's
looking for the guy

who kidnapped my girlfriend.

Oh, he's looking
for Othon all right.

At least that part
of his story's believable.

And the rest of it?

Rutgers said Othon is a killer.

A for-hire terrorist?

Not acting like one.

He's attacked three people
and killed another...

And he could
have killed all of them,

starting with Amanda,
and he didn't.

Why did he kidnap
Susan and not kill her?

I could give you
a hundred reasons why,

each one uglier
than the one before.

All right,
work on this question.

Why hasn't Othon
left this hospital?

I... maybe he enjoys
our warm, friendly atmosphere.

And there may be
something here that he needs.

I want to know more
about what I'm dealing with

before I go back to Rutgers.

How about you?

Othon's sick, isn't he?

His blood shows massive
bacterial infection...

A kind I've never seen before.

Take a look.

Wow. His white
blood cell count

is three
times higher
than the normal.

With an infection that severe,

he's lucky he's
still on his feet.

He survived a
bullet wound to the head.

It's hard to imagine
that he'd succumb

to a simple infection that fast.

If he doesn't
get medical
attention soon,

the NSA won't
have to worry
about Othon anymore.

Which is why he's probably
still in this hospital.

And why he needed a nurse.

Thank God.

But that still doesn't explain

what he's doing here
in the first place.

Do you have the inventory

of all the shooting victims'
possessions? Yeah.

What are you looking for?

Uh, medical equipment,
supplies...

anything like that.

Here's an insulin kit
found on the scene.

Who'd that belong to?

I haven't been able
to figure that out.

According to
all the autopsies I performed,

none of the victims
had diabetes.

I think we're going
to be able to help Susan.

If you still want to go back
to Rutgers, I'll understand.

That I'm an idiot?

What do you need?

Pulled out automatic weapons
and started firing.

I saw people falling.

Blood spraying everywhere.

And then I felt the bullet
enter my shoulder.

I crumpled to the ground,

feeling my life ebbing
onto the cold, hard tile.

My last thought...

before I lost consciousness

was that I never should
have left my mother's farm

and the one man
who truly, truly loved me.

Uh... excuse me, Miss Mayfield?

It was the most significant
moment of my entire life.

I'm sure it was.

So don't tell me
that I should sign any contract

that doesn't guarantee me
script and cast approval!

Um, I need to talk to you. Now.

Can you hang on a second, Skip?

There's some doctor here.

Look, can we just do this later?

I'm right in the middle
of something.

I need to get some information
from you about the shooting.

Sorry, I'm on an exclusive.

I can't talk until the Hard Copy
piece airs.

Well, all I need to know

is where these people were
sitting during the shooting,

and I'm sure Hard Copy's not

going to mind that.

Did you hear that, Skip?

Sorry. Skip says
"exclusive" means "exclusive."

Skip, huh?
Do you mind if I talk

to Skip for just a second?

Hi, Skip.
This is Dr. Jesse Travis,

and I-I need to get
some information

from your client here.

She was waiting tables when
the shooting occurred, and...

I don't care what it does
to your negotiating posture.

Miss Mayfield here
holds information

that could possibly save
the life of an innocent woman.

No, I don't think
she'd be interested

in selling her life story.

Listen, Skip,
if you don't tell your client

to cooperate with me, you know,

I'm-I'm just
going to call
Hard Copy,

and I'm going to tell them
that your client

has been in and out
of the psych ward for years

and that she's
delusional. Okay?

What's that going to do
for your negotiating posture?

Okay.

You...

This doctor guy's
gonna blow it for us

if we don't agree to this.
Do what he wants, all right?

Do not fight me on this.

Fine.

So what did you need to know?

It's not working.

Try again.

I can't do this.

I don't have the training.

If you want to leave here,
you will learn... quickly.

Thanks.
You've been a big help.

Any news yet?

No. The hospital's
locked up tight.

We're still searching
all the floors.

What are you doing here, then?

Checking on you.

Look, I found out who
was sitting with whom

at the restaurant before
the shooting occurred.

That's good.

Is something the matter?

Yeah, with you, Jess.

That's why I'm here.

I'm fine.

Jesse, your girlfriend
was kidnapped by a killer.

I'm okay.

Look, you can talk
to me, you know.

I am.

No, you're not.

Look, what do you
want me to say?

That I'm terrified?

That I never thought
someone could matter to me

as much as Susan does?

That nothing matters
as much to me as her happiness?

Or that if something bad
ever happened to her,

my life would be over?

Something like that.

There's nothing wrong
with admitting

you're scared, Jesse,
especially to your friends.

We can help you.

How, exactly?

Oh, I don't know.

Uh, just be there
to reassure you.

Pat you on the back.

Things like that.

You feel better now?

Yeah, much. Thanks.

Glad I could help.

You'll keep me informed,
first lead you get?

Yeah, you got it.

Don't worry, Jess.
We'll get her back.

Well, the first attack

was in the pathology lab,
which is right here.

The second attack,
where he stole the medication,

was outside the oncology
department on the fifth floor.

The supply room he broke into
was on the eighth floor.

And the O.R.
where he operated on himself

was on number two.

Now, do we see
a pattern here, gentlemen?

Only that he seems
to move around quickly.

And freely, and that ends now.

I want agents posted
at each elevator
on every floor.

The same goes for
the stairwell doors.

Yes, sir.

What, are you going
to lock him down to one floor?

Then what? Room-to-room searches
from the ground floor up?

Something like that.

It's going to take
a lot of manpower.

Until the ground floor
search is complete,

the lockdown continues.

Follow me. Excuse us.

And no one is to enter
or leave this hospital

until they have been
cleared personally by me.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Okay. Get on it.

Got it.

Lieutenant, do you...
do you need something?

No, but I have
something you need.

In 15 minutes, I can have
a squad of police down here

to help with the search.

Thank you, but my
people are trained

to handle this
kind of situation.

As is our anti-terrorist unit.

You want to help?

I'm still on the clock.

Good.

Then call your people
and tell them, until
further notice,

all emergency services
at this hospital
are suspended.

Say it's, uh...

A gas leak?

Perfect.

When you were informed that
Othon had kidnapped a nurse,

you asked about her skills.

Why?

Lieutenant, when you deal
with someone as deadly as Othon,

it helps to know what resources
he has at his command.

That's the first time
I've heard a kidnap victim

described as a "resource."

She has abilities
and knowledge of this hospital

that Othon doesn't.

We have to assume she's working
with him, willingly or not.

I expect you to treat
Susan Hilliard as a victim,

not as a weapon.

Notify your people the E.R.
is closed, Lieutenant.

We've got work to do.

I can't reach it.

How can I help you if you've
got me tied up like this?

Try again.

Carefully.

Othon?

Oh!

Hi, Dr. Travis.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience,
sir, but access

between floors has been
temporarily suspended.

What are you talking about?

Hey, look, I got patients
to see on other floors.

I'm sorry for the
inconvenience, sir.

We are making every effort

to solve this problem
as quickly as possible.

It's working.

Mark Sloan.

Hey, have they locked down
your floor yet?

Locked down the floor?

Yes.

Well, then I don't know if this

is going to do you
any good, but...

before the shooting,
at the restaurant,

Othon was sitting
with Keith Farley.

He was a reporter
from the
Chronicle.

Are you sure?

Well, Gloria Mayfield is,

and trust me, this woman knows

when she is around people
from the media.

I got to go.

I've got to get to Othon
before Rutgers finds him.

Mark, even if you know
where this guy is...

And something tells me

you've already
figured that out...

How do you expect
to get past Rutgers' men?

How are you fixed
for spare parts?

I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

I have a patient
open on the operating table

waiting for this liver.

We are making every effort

to correct this problem
as quickly as possible.

By which time
this liver will be useless

and my patient will be back on
a waiting list for two years...

If she lives that long.

Open the box.

Don't touch it.

You'll contaminate the organ
and kill the patient.

Do you know how long

this woman's been waiting
for this liver?

Go.

Thank you.

Susan, it's me.

Mark, we have
to get out of here.

Where's Othon?

I don't know.

He could be right behind me.

Or right in front of you.

Well, Dr. Othon.

We've been looking
everywhere for you.

Now you can finally kill me.

No, no, that's Rutgers' job.

I'm here to save your life.

Sit down right here.

This man kidnapped me.

Why are we helping him?

Because we're the only ones
who can, Susan.

It's no use.

You'll never find
a cure in time.

You heard him, Mark.
Maybe we should just go.

That's a little arrogant,
isn't it?

Arrogant?

Didn't Dr. Othon tell you?

He created this disease.

I can't believe
Rutgers told you the truth.

Good. Good, that means
the infection

hasn't reached your brain yet.

I'm going to have to take
a blood sample.

You know, Rutgers said
that you were

an international
terrorist for hire,

but you don't see
too many terrorists

having lunch with reporters.

I told Farley
it was too dangerous

for a face-to-face,

but it was the only way. I...

He needed a sample of your blood

to verify your story.

That's why he brought
that insulin kit.

He used the hypodermic.

We were searched
when we left the lab. I...

The only way
I could get the plague out

was in my own blood.

The plague?

When the NSA sends out assassins

to kill a doctor,
you begin to wonder why.

Then when you
discover that doctor

is suffering from
a bacterial infection

you've never seen before...

He's developing
biological weapons

for the government?

I thought I was.

This country hasn't had
a biological weapons program

since probably the '60s.

Yeah, and marijuana
was outlawed since the '30s,

so no one smokes dope, right?

Rutgers wanted you to think

you were doing
secret government work,

but you were only
working for him.

Creating the friendly plague
for the highest bidder.

100% fatal within ten hours.

Doesn't sound
too friendly to me.

It's not communicable
person-to-person.

A plane flies over,

sprays an entire city,

24 hours later,
everyone is dead.

We march in,
take over the real estate.

Nobody on our side

even gets a sniffle.

And if they do...

there's a cure.

Yup, a super-cocktail

of advanced antibiotics.

Susan, would you look
in that organ container

right under the liver there?

Ah, thank you.

Hey, how did you...?

You shouldn't leave so
much blood lying around

if you want to keep
this stuff secret.

I was going to give
myself the cure

when I got back to the lab,

but Rutgers found out
about the meeting and, uh...

Mm-hmm. And they sent
out a team to kill you

and everyone in that restaurant.

It's-it's-it's no use.

The-the contagion's
too far advanced.

No, it can't be.

Otherwise, everyone
in that restaurant
died for nothing.

The first floor's

clean and locked.

Search team's
commencing floor two.

I want that murdering
bastard dead by dawn.

Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

Sloan here.

Steve, can you talk?

I know I said I'd be home
right after work, pookie,

but, uh, something's come up.

I'm in an abandoned lab
in the basement with Othon.

He's dying.

Well, I know how much
this dinner party means to you.

Uh, just go ahead and eat.

Don't wait for me.

Rutgers is trying to kill Othon
to cover up

the fact that he's developing
illegal biological weapons.

If we don't get Othon
out of here,

the proof's going to die
with him.

Don't worry about me.

I'll just pick up something
after this is all over.

I need your help.

You've got to find a way

to get down here.

I'll see what I can do,
honeybunch.

Until then,
keep our guests entertained.

Bye-bye.

Problems?

Oh, nothing a lot of groveling

and a trip to the hospital
florist can't fix.

Excuse me.

Sir?

What is it?

You better listen to this.

Steve, can you talk?

I know I said I'd be home
right after work, pookie,

but, uh, something's come up.

I'm in an abandoned lab
in the basement with Othon.

He's dying.

Rutgers is trying to kill Othon
to cover up the fact

that he's developing
illegal biological weapons.

I scanned the project documents

and uploaded them
to this e-mail address.

They won't hold up
as proof, but...

it may give you
a place to start.

We have you.

N-not for much longer.

And my corpse

won't help you either. It's...

The bacteria will die with me.

You aren't going to die.

The doctor and nurse
are expendable.

No one leaves the basement

unless they're in a body bag.

I don't think so.

You're under arrest for murder.

Now, drop your weapons.

How did you know

we were monitoring
your cell calls?

It was a safe bet.

Now, drop your weapons.

You've got no jurisdiction here,
Sloan.

Besides,
you can't prove anything.

I'll walk right out the door
with your badge in my pocket.

There's still Othon.

Is there?

I'll give you five seconds

to drop your weapons.

Then I'm going to drop you.

I'm not getting a pulse.

Susan.

Jesse!

I am so sorry.

For what?

I promise I will
never mention
Carmel again.

It's too late.

Just keep your hands
where I can see them.

How's Othon?

He's dead.

In other words,
this night never happened.

At least your version.

I still think
I'll take your badge, though,

just for the fun of it.

However, the plague is
still very much alive.

I, uh,

injected myself with it.

In a few minutes,
I'm meeting with

the authorities and the press.

You didn't really?

It was the only way
we could prove anything

ever happened here.

Cuff him, read him his rights

and get him out of here.

You injected yourself?

Yeah.

I can't believe
you let him do it.

Have you ever tried
to stop Mark from
doing anything?

How long before you have
to take the antigen?

I have a few hours.

Well, let's not dally.

Good idea.

What a night.

Tell me about it.

I could sleep for a week.

Hey, we have
a couple of days off.

Want to take a trip?

I don't think so.

Why? We could get
in my car,

I'll put the top down
and cruise up the coast.

By lunch, we could be in Ca...

NSA bureau chief,
Martin Rutgers,

has been arrested and charged
with multiple counts of homicide

for his role
in a rogue operation

to manufacture
biological weapons.

The shocking conspiracy
was uncovered by Dr. Mark Sloan

of Community General Hospital,
who is also...

Maybe we should call Mark
and congratulate him.

Mmm. When we get
back into town.

Yeah, you're right.

No reason running up
any long-distance charges.

I am so glad we
got over our
fear of Carmel.

I'm just glad to be anywhere
alone with you.

Mmm. This
couldn't
be nicer.

Except maybe...

if the ocean was
a little louder.

No problem.

Now it's perfect.

Lab, call extension 2768.

Lab, call extension 2768.