MacGyver (2016–…): Season 1, Episode 19 - Compass - full transcript

Uh-oh. Oh, oh. Uh-oh.

Ooh, you know what this reminds me of?

Another one of your dumb dreams?

No, no, that-that space movie.

You know, the one with
Indiana Jones in it?

Jack, now is not the time
for a Star Wars discussion.

Oh, I beg to differ.
Now is the perfect time,

'cause I think we can get
out of it the same way.

Hey, are you picking up what
I'm putting down there, Artoo?

I've asked you not to call me that.

Good news: the general's men
don't seem to know where you are,



which means the trash
compactor's on a timer.

So if you could stop it, that...

See, I told you this was
the perfect hiding spot.

This is definitely a
terrible hiding spot, Jack.

Riley, can you hack the controls?

No.

Pretty much everything in this
place predates the transistor.

Only three guards.

We could try to take them
out, get to the controls.

No, no, no, no, stand down there,

Threepio, you're gonna get
yourself shot in the face.

I'm C3PO?

The droid that does
nothing but complain?

Hey, you know what, if
Artoo can't figure this out,



I'm just gonna do what Han did, hmm?

Yeah, good old Dr. Jones.

Yeah, well, sorry, Solo,
it didn't work in the movie,

it's not gonna work here.

- Why not?
- The compressive strength...

of that pipe is 500 megapascals.

It's not enough to stop this...

from hitting that wall
and putting us in between.

You know what, I was
wrong, Mac. You're Threepio.

Stop telling me the odds and
tell me how we're gonna escape.

I can't leave a stinking corpse, man.

See those rivets? There
should be a hydraulic line

just on the other side of that.

So if we can puncture that,

it would stop this thing,

if it works.

- What if it doesn't work?
- Then we get crushed to death.

- Yeah, yeah, do it, do it.
- For the compressive force...

to overcome the puncture resistance,

we're gonna have to hold the pipe
perfectly normal to the walls, okay?

Dude, nothing about this is normal.

Riley, can you create a distraction?

Yeah, something should go boom
on the far side of the complex.

Make it go boom fast,
'cause if this doesn't work,

then Jack and I are
gonna be... inseparable.

I know, I know.

Keep it steady! Steady!

Are you okay? Is it broken?

I can't think straight right now.

I thought these things
were smelly on the outside.

- It worked.
- Quickly.

- They're on the move.
- Bozer, way to go, man.

That was a topically
relevant Obi-Wan quote.

Thanks, Jack. So does that
mean I get to be Obi-Wan?

- No, definitely not. No.
- No, definitely not.

You got out alive, and
you managed to recover

the stolen data tapes,

but Jack is in the infirmary

with an axial fracture
to his left radius.

So what went wrong?

This one's on me.

I was so focused on stopping that motor,

I-I used a technical
term Jack didn't know.

"Hold the pipe perfectly normal"?

Yeah, I was listening.

Uh, what's so weird about "normal"?

In physics, it means "perpendicular."

Well, there's no guarantee
that Jack would know

what the word
"perpendicular" meant either.

Look, normally...

like normal-normal,
not physics normal...

I can translate technical
terms into Jack-speak,

and I didn't this time.

His injury's my fault.

Yeah, whose fault is it

that the two of you jumped
into the jaws of death?

Look, I love Jack as much as...

it's possible to love Jack.

And he's one of the best
operatives I've ever met,

but when mistakes like this
nearly get agents killed,

it's my job to ask if
this is the right fit.

Maybe you need a partner
that can speak your language.

Frankie?

Who's Frankie?

Friend of Mac's from MIT.

A close one.

Yeah. What, uh... what
h... what happened?

Uh...

No, of course I'll be there, yeah.

Send me the...

Thanks.

What's going on, Mac?

Is Frankie o...

There was an accident. She's, uh...

she's dead.

Oh, Mac...

- I'm sorry, man.
- Yeah.

There's a memorial in Boston.

I was wondering if I could...

Go. We'll deal with all this later.

_

- Suit's a nice touch.
- You sure?

You know, I was... I was worried
it was a little over-the-top,

but I look good.

No, no. Over-the-top
would have been

using the Phoenix jet to
get to Boston before me,

renting this car, and then
meeting me here with that sign.

The hat and the gloves
are just the cherry on top

of a banana split of weird decisions.

Bozer called me and
told me what happened.

And, sure, I'm missing
mandatory rehab for my arm,

but I wanted to be here for you, man.

Here you go, sir!

It's a well-known fact
that people who sit up front

don't tip as well.

So I have that to look forward to.

Hey, Riles, with, uh, Mac
and Jack out for the day,

I thought maybe you could
give me a little tutorial on...

Am I catching you at a bad time?

Oh. No. No, meet me in the lab in five.

I'll teach you whatever
you want to know.

What is it you want to know?

So, how is Hawaii Boy?

He's great.

And his name is Kalei.

Well, tell him Ka-hey for me.

Will do.

You still have a thing for her, huh?

Who says I have a thing for her?

Who doesn't?

So? Do we have a rule against it?

No.

But, Bozer, there's no "it" here.

I mean, you see that, right?

It's time to move on. Seriously.

Boss, with all due respect...
and I mean this sincerely...

will you please mind your own business?

When it's on my dime, it is my business.

So suck it up.

Open a Tinder account.

Get over it.

What's she know about Tinder?

Shouldn't I be driving?

Are you kidding me?

My arm may be all busted up,

but whatever's going
on in that head of yours

has no business behind the wheel.

And I'm really sorry about
the loss of your friend.

- What was her name? Frankie?
- Yeah.

And what happened, exactly?

There was a fire in her lab.

Just one of those things, I guess.

You loved her, didn't you?

Hmm?

No.

It wasn't like that.

She was five years older,
and she had a boyfriend.

Is that what you wanted to hear?

Besides, she was...

way out of my league.

Out of your league? What,
she was that gorgeous?

No. Well, yeah.

Yeah, she was, but...

it wasn't her looks.

It was her brains that
put her out of my league.

Oh, so you're telling me
that she was smarter than you?

- Yeah.
- Hmm.

Yeah, I don't believe that.

- Oh, believe it.
- Mm.

Frankie was a double major in
mechanical engineering and biology.

She was an expert in DNA.

She made me look like...

Well...

she made me look like you... no offense.

None taken. You wish
you could look like me.

Well, she sounds pretty special.

I've never heard you talk
about anybody like this before.

Yeah. Frankie was...

one of a kind.

You know, a lot of kids, they go to MIT

and they think that they're
gonna change the world, but...

Frankie...

she actually could've done it.

Words seem inadequate

to express the loss of such a...

gifted and giving scientist.

Rosalind Franklin Mallory...

Frankie, to those of
us who knew her well...

wasn't just the smartest
person in any room.

She was also the kindest.

I was fortunate to have
been the principal sponsor

for Frankie's recent work,

work that I hope will
continue someday, somehow,

which is why I'm
establishing a scholarship...

What are you making?

It's called a Mobius strip.

It's a three-dimensional
object with only one side.

Frankie used to love these things.

... Look to the future,
searching for solutions

to mankind's biggest problems.

Mac.

Thanks for coming.

Of course, Smitty.

Thanks for letting me know.

How are her folks doing?

Pretty torn up.

Hell, we all are.

First Dr. V, now this.

Dr. Vanketesh?

What happened?

Oh, you don't know?

His car went off the
road in a snowstorm.

There was a tree.

He was into a coma and never came out.

Excuse me, fellas.

Who the hell takes candid
photos at a funeral?

Catch up with you later, Smitty.

Yeah.

Hey.

Can I talk to you?

Hey, there, sneaky Pete.
You missed my good side.

Are you all right?

He dropped his phone, so
yeah, I'm fine. Get him, Mac!

Ow!

Well, whoever he was,

he knows the campus
better than I do now.

He disappeared into thin air.

You get into his phone?

Yeah, man, it's definitely a burner.

This guy has shots of pretty
much everyone at the service.

- Question is: why?
- I don't know.

While we're asking questions,
though, I got one of my own.

Why did Frankie's faculty advisor

die in a car crash a month
before she died in a fire?

- Do what?
- Yeah.

And then there's this.

Why would he be taking pictures
of Frankie's burnt out lab?

According to the arson reports,

the fire started in an
unidentified electrical box

located on the south wall.

Which ignited lab chemicals...

that were used as the accelerant

that caused the explosion.

The victim's re...

Remains?

Keep reading.

It's fine.

The victim's... remains

were found five feet
from the south wall.

It's presumed she was knocked
over by the initial blast.

Uh, resulting gases
then caused a flash-over

that burned hot enough to
consume the lab equipment

and the... victim's body.

No.

Hey, Mac, I know this has
got to be hard for you.

We can get a fire team
come in here again...

That's not what I meant.

"No" as in that's not what happened.

Now what are you doing?

What I was trained to do:
find the heart of the bomb.

Come on, Mac. You really
think it was a bomb?

I've seen enough bomb sites to
know when I'm standing in one.

Fair enough.

South wall, five feet.

This device is where the fire started.

It's a piece of lab equipment
called a spectrometer.

Only they don't build
them with detonators.

You're right.

This was no accident.

So, I guess your axial
fracture's all healed, then,

right, Jack?

Because I know that you wouldn't miss

Phoenix-mandated rehab

to take an unsanctioned trip back East

unless you were fully recovered.

- Arm's great. Never better.
- Really?

Let me see you do a push-up.

All right. Look, Matty,

we both know Jack's
arm isn't any better.

Yeah, no kidding.

I know this isn't
official Phoenix business,

but I also know that Frankie's
death wasn't an accident.

But, Mac, Frankie was
doing post-grad work.

- Why would somebody want to murder her?
- I don't know, Boze.

Riley, you get anything
off that burner phone?

Yep, got it. Hacked it.

Looks like your paparazzi
tried to e-mail this pic of Jack

before you got his phone.

To who? Frankie's killer?

I don't know. Message didn't go through.

Which means I can't trace the I.P.

I'll see if I can tie this e-mail
address to a physical location,

but it could take some time.

Well, time isn't on your side, Mac.

I need you back here in 48
hours for another assignment.

48 hours? So we can stay?

Yes. You and the one-armed man

have two days to find
something that will get

Boston PD to reopen Frankie's case.

Okay. Thanks, boss.

That was unexpectedly nice of her.

If investigators didn't
find the detonator,

there must be something
else they overlooked,

something that can
help us find her killer.

Ugh. Let me guess.

You think I'm jumping at shadows
'cause I can't accept she's gone.

Hey, relax. I trust your instincts 100%,

but your brain can be overly technical.

You're a cerebral guy.

So let's think about this
from the human angle, okay?

What was the motive?

- Bozer's question.
- Mm.

- Why would someone want Frankie dead?
- Yeah.

You got the usual suspects:
stalker, angry neighbor,

jealous ex.

But the fire didn't start in her house.

It was in her lab.

Okay, so maybe somebody didn't like

what she was working on back here.

- Do you know what it was?
- Uh...

just the general idea.

It was a new DNA sequencing technique.

It could reconstruct even the most
severely degraded blood samples.

She was hoping to identify
infectious diseases

like Ebola before an outbreak.

Okay, well, that's a big deal.

But unless the Ebola virus is
going around starting fires,

that's another dead end.

Not necessarily.

That new technique could
be worth a lot of money.

Could put a lot of medical
research companies out of business.

That's a good point.

This lock look new to you?

Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.

Hey, hey. Looks like that's
not the only new thing

she had installed; check that out.

Most security cameras
point towards a door.

This one points towards the street. Why?

I don't know.

Maybe she was afraid
somebody was watching her.

I doubt that hard
drive survived the fire,

but a lot of these things are
backed up to a website, aren't they?

Riley can get in there, tap some keys.

Waste of time.

Frankie was way too paranoid
about people hacking into her stuff

to leave anything online.

In college, we used to...

Used to what?

Walk away in the middle
of a conversation?

Come on, let me in on it,
buddy. What are you looking for?

Well, MIT is extremely competitive.

We pretty much invented
computer hacking,

so to keep people from
"borrowing" your research,

Frankie and I got into the habit

of physically backing up our work

and hiding it.

Okay, wait a minute. If
you're about to tell me

that Frankie figured out a way

to download her research into a plant,

my eyeball's just gonna explode.

Flash drive.

Okay, well, that makes more sense.

H-How did you know
which plant to check?

Oh, yeah, because of her symbol.

The Morpheus strip.

Mobius strip.

Morpheus was the guy from The Matrix.

Oh. Yeah. Well, I love that dude.

Okay. Got a bunch of video files here.

I think this is her...

journal.

So, guess who's got two thumbs
and just used her new technique

to reconstruct a full sequence
from a sample the FBI's lab

could only get four alleles from?

Yeah.

Yeah, you would've liked her.

It's her last entry.

Okay, so maybe I'm just...
still freaked out about Dr. V.

And I know this will sound nuts,
but I think I'm being followed.

I'm fairly certain my
lab was broken into.

Nothing was taken, but,
uh, things were moved.

I'm gonna get new locks
installed and a camera.

So, if you're watching this video

and something bad has happened to me,

It-it wasn't an accident.

Someone killed my advisor,

and I think they're
trying to kill me, too.

See, someone was after her.

She knew it.

- Hey, Riley.
- Okay, it wasn't easy,

but I was able to
trace the e-mail address

I pulled off the burner phone

to the physical location
of its last log in.

I'm sending you coordinates now.

This is on campus.

It's in the Tombs.

"The Tombs"? Yeah,
that's not ominous at all.

Yeah, the Tombs is what
MIT kids called a cluster

of old buildings that
no one uses anymore.

We used to sneak into them all the time.

To do what?

- Work on experiments.
- Oh. Okay.

The kind the faculty didn't approve of.

They had a strict policy on explosions.

Man, I can't tell

if you did college completely
wrong or completely right.

Well, the person using that e-mail

is hanging out in these Tombs.

That's where we're going.

Wait a minute. So, you're telling me

you used to go in
here, like, on purpose?

Yeah, all the time, at night.

You know I'm all about
"no man left behind,"

but let's be clear on one thing:

If this place is haunted,
it's every man for himself.

A: I'm faster than you,

so every man for himself works for me,

and B: when you're 17 years old,

playing mad scientist with your friends,

this place has a certain charm.

All right.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Look, somebody rigged the door.

You're right.

Trip wire leading to a cell phone.

Rigged to let whoever's down here

know they've got company.

The detonator you found in Frankie's lab

was pretty makeshift, as well.

You know, this is starting to look like

your handiwork, dude.

Whoever made that I think just made us.

Go.

Where are we going?!

Shortcut!

Let's see who the
bastard is who killed...

- Frankie?
- Mac.

Oh, I can't wait to hear this one.

Hmm?

Whoa.

Whoa.

I am getting a real "separated at birth"

kind of vibe here.

Are you sure your last
name's not MacGyver?

Please. Mac wishes he had
my flair for interior design.

And I know it's not much,
but IKEA doesn't exactly have

a "hiding out after faking
your own death" aisle,

so I had to make do.

Well, I love what you've
done with the place.

Thank you.

So, how did you find me?

I thought I'd been doing a pretty
decent job of covering my tracks.

Well, we traced the e-mail
address your photographer friend

tried to send those pics to.

I still can't believe
you invited paparazzi

to crash your memorial.

Man, I'm stealing that one.

A: It's "paparazzo,"

B: I thought whoever wanted
me dead might show their face.

I couldn't exactly go to my own funeral.

- Oh, you have the phone?
- Uh, yeah.

Your parents were, uh...

No, I had to keep them in
the dark to keep them safe.

Everyone needed to think I was dead

or my would-be killer could've
used them to get to me, so...

Richard Sang gave my eulogy?

Wow.

- Smitty actually wore a tie.
- I know.

Now I wish I would've gone.

Yeah, I mean... coworkers,
family, friends...

I don't see anyone I don't know,

and none of these people wanted me dead.

Okay, well, any idea why your death

would be on someone's to-do list?

Maybe.

Mac, do you remember my thesis project?

"DNA Reconstruction via
RNA-Guided CRISPR-Cas9

"and Pattern-Matching Algorithms"?

You made me proof 948 pages six times.

So, yeah, it kind of rings a bell.

Just, um, explain it to someone

who maybe flunked math,
biology and chemistry.

All three?

Okay, uh...

well, um...

think of it like this:

- you remember Humpty Dumpty?
- Yeah.

My technique can put his
DNA back together again.

See, Dr. V and I were trying to
find a way to sequence viral genomes.

We ended up failing at that but
stumbled into a breakthrough.

A method for recovering full genomes

from even badly-degraded DNA.

So we did what anyone would've done...

You know what I would've
done? I would've taken

DNA from a frog and
put it into a T. Rex,

like a little mini Jurassic
Park, you know what I...

You didn't do that, did you?

- Uh, no, not exactly.
- Okay.

We asked the cops for blood samples.

Uh, closed cases, so we could...

Create a control group to see if
your technique actually worked.

And it did.

The results were incredible.

No matter how degraded a sample,

we were able to sequence
it with a 94% accuracy.

So Boston PD upped the ante.

They sent us a cold case.

Sample...

Ah. A35-B42-1707. Yeah.

Cops knew this blood was the killer's,

but all current methods of DNA testing

had failed to sequence it.

But your method could.

So this is all happening
because your research

put you on the trail of a killer.

And let me guess:

right when you were about to I.D. him,

your little lab went kaboom.

Yeah, and it was just dumb luck

- I didn't go kaboom with it.
- Mm.

Actually, that night,
I woke up from a dream

about a single-nucleotide polymorphism,

so I ran to my lab to adjust
the spectrometer settings,

stumbled onto the device someone
planted, quickly did the math.

So if the person who
had planted the bomb

knew that you survived
the first attempt,

then they would try again.

Yeah, and my odds were against me

that I'd stumble into it the
next try before it killed me.

So, I whipped up an accelerant

to, uh, make the fire burn hot enough

to sell a crime scene with no body.

I thought if I could get away
clean with the blood samples,

I'd have a chance to regroup
and figure out who's after me.

Or whoever sample
A35-B42-1707 belonged to.

It sounds to me like Mr....
A35 has the cops on his payroll.

How else would he even know
Frankie was about to I.D. him?

Think about that.

You don't still have
the blood sample, do you?

For all the good it'll do us
without sequencing equipment.

Oh, I think we can handle that.

Yeah, we got all that stuff.

Uh, that's sweet,

but I'm not sure what two
guys from a think tank can do.

Well, to be fair, it's
one hell of a think tank.

Okay, so we did some digging

and we found the Boston
PD case file that sample

A35-B42-1707 was pulled from.

Sending it to you now.

Victim's name was Ronald Manning,

reporter from Southie

found shot to death in his backyard.

Police found signs that he
struggled with his killer,

including blood
underneath his fingernails,

but the body was outside

for a week and it had rained, so...

Yeah, blah, blah, blah, boring.

Boring CSI mumbo jumbo.

Bottom line, whoever offed Ronnie

is now trying to take out
Frankie to cover his tracks.

Safe bet.

So who knew you were working
with Boston PD, Frankie?

Lot of people.

My advisor, my department head,

two dozen grad students and post-docs.

It's not like what I
was doing was secret.

Okay, so we just use Frankie's
technique to rebuild the DNA,

run the results through
CODIS, and then...

cross our fingers for a match.

Hey, uh, try to keep up, boy genius.

My lab was incinerated, remember?

That's true.

But I've never been one to let
a little arson get in my way.

Never took this long before.

Yeah, well, it's a new lock.

This tumbler has eight
pins, so it takes a little...

longer.

Wow.

This brings back memories.

It's like being in a time machine, huh?

Yeah. This was my home away
from home when I was enrolled.

Oh, that's funny. You
know, my home away from home

was this bar in college called Slappy's.

I called it Sloppy's, but...

Yeah, uh, I think we can guess
why you called it that, Jack.

Yeah, it's 'cause I got
pretty sloppy in there, yeah.

Okay.

First step is extracting the
viable DNA from the blood sample.

Okay, what tubes are we using?

Uh, one-point-fives. We'll need, uh...

One for the sample and one
to balance the centrifuge.

I do remember some stuff.

So...

once we separate the
cells from the serum...

We'll need to extract
as much clot as possible,

then prep for electrophoresis.

See, the secret behind the
technique Dr. V and I stumbled into

is the gel we run
through the capillaries.

Mm.

It's a... original recipe.

Okay, I think I'm gonna let
you two nerds get your flirt on,

check the perimeter.

Enjoy yourselves.

Glad to see you can
still identify a 1.5.

After all that time you
made me your lab lackey,

how could I forget?

Barely had time to do my own research.

Oh, are you kidding?

You were looking for
an excuse not to work.

You said you had to "let
your research breathe."

Here. Last one's for you.

Ready to get your life back?

Kind of crazy to be
working with you again.

It's kind of like I never left.

Yeah, but you did.

Dropped out without
a word of explanation.

Enlisted in the...

Army, I heard?

Yeah, what's shaking, Threepio?

I thought we both
agreed Mac was Threepio.

- Clearly, I'm Boba Fett.
- Boba Fett?

Boba Fett was a badass, man.

He was, like, the best
bounty hunter in the galaxy.

And, just for saying that,

you're more like that fat,
worthless one... Jabba.

- This is what I get for calling you.
- And about that...

you always call Mac
when you need something.

What are you calling me
for? What do you want?

Okay, fine, fine, you got me, Jack.

I'm calling about Riley.

- Why? Is she okay?
- She's fine, I'm not.

Ever since Hawaii, Captain Aloha's

been blowing up her phone nonstop.

And she's all giggles and smiles and...

I need your help, man.

I mean, I'm stuck in the
friend zone, and I don't...

You're stuck in the friend zone?

Okay, couple things.
First of all, "stuck"

implies that you deserve to
be in some other type of zone.

And that ain't up to you,
man, that's up to her.

That's always up to the
girl, you should know that.

- Second...
- Okay, but what I'm...

Hey, don't interrupt.

I'm not done.

Second, anybody who can call Riley Davis

a close, personal friend is lucky.

She's a good person, man.

And third, if you don't
start taking no for an answer,

I'm gonna go all Wookiee
on you and rip your...

arms off.

Got to go, Jabba. Good talk, man.

Hey!

Time to pack up the science
fair. We go company. Let's go.

What? Why? The centrifuge
hasn't started spinning.

We still need to separate the serum...

Hey, we're about to
have our serum separated.

- How many?
- Only six.

- But they got guns, man. Let's bounce.
- Guns?

Yeah, those things that'll
kill you. Yeah, yeah. Let's go.

- Come on.
- We need to go.

- Mac...
- Look, I already lost you once.

I'm not gonna let you die again.

- Let's pack up, let's go.
- Yeah.

If this is all they want, maybe
we just give it to them, huh?

- Maybe they'll go away.
- Yeah, Frankie,

I'm pretty sure a six-man
private security team

is here to make you go away.

Hey, you know what it is?

It's time to see just
how good Uncle Jack is

with just his right hook.

No, no, no, no. I got an
idea, I think. Just hold on.

What are you making?

It's an electric whip.
Watch out for the end.

Oh!

Yes, yes.

Hey, you-you know, back in Texas,

- I was, uh...
- ... Junior whip-cracking champion?

- Yeah.
- Three years running?

- Yeah.
- I know.

Yeah, well, she doesn't.

Who says I was talking
to you anyway, man?

Guys, they're coming.

Yeah, watch out.

That was awesome.

Come on, there's gonna be more coming.

Mac, what the hell have you been
doing since you dropped out of school?

Come on, come on.

I'm having trouble wrapping
my head around this.

Boy genius is a spy now?

Between the two of us, I think
I should be more freaked out,

since up until four hours
ago, I thought you were dead.

Hey, Riley.

Take all the wireless chips
out of Frankie's laptop now.

Right now.

Whoever's after Frankie hid
spyware on her hard drive.

As soon as she connected to Wi-Fi,
it sent out her GPS coordinates.

That's how they found us.

Riley, is there any way you can
trace this back to the killer?

I'm trying, but so far, no luck.

If they know I'm still
alive and they can't find me,

they're gonna go after my parents.

I need to just get them
in the car and leave town.

No, no, no. These guys are not
gonna stop until they find you.

And besides, if you leave now, you
won't be able to finish your work.

Oh, my work? Yeah, who
cares about my work?

I do. Frankie,

everything we used to talk
about you're actually doing now.

I can't just let you walk away from it.

Mac, this isn't about you.

No, you're right. It's not about me.

It's about you and what
you're doing for the world.

Hey, stop. Look at me.

Yesterday, I thought that you were dead,

and if you walk away now,

if you just run... you kind of are.

So... please just let me
help you get your life back.

How, Mac?

Our only hope of finding the killer

is sequencing that DNA,
and that's impossible.

They blew up my lab, and we
can't go back to the one at MIT.

Do you remember Dr. V's favorite saying?

"'Impossible' is not a scientific term."

So, if the only thing
we don't have is a lab...

we'll just have to make one.

Kegger at-at Smitty's
tonight, 11:00 p.m.

Hey, we're making moonshine.

Pass it on.

Tell all your nerd buddies.

So I got almost everything
on your list, um,

I think, except for, uh,

"Cas9 Nuclease 1 nmol."

M-Mol?

Y'all still need that?

Only if we want it to work.

Okay, so that's a "yes," smart-ass.

Also, you wrote "powdered gelatin."

You mean, like, Jell-O?

Yeah, we need it for electrophoresis.

Okay, yeah, that's... that's
what I thought. All right.

Oh, unflavored gelatin

only, Jack.

Frankie has a very specific recipe,

so Jell-O won't work.

So... no cherry-flavored?

Can I ask you something?

I know it doesn't look
like much, but it's gonna...

No, it's not about that. It's about you.

You were one of the smartest guys here.

You want to know why I left?

I'm not saying that you
chose the wrong path.

It's just... not the one I
would have seen you taking.

Me, either... honestly.

But...

I was walking across campus one day,

trying to visualize a
nine-dimensional polytope,

when my grandfather called.

And one of his old war buddies died.

The guy who saved his life, actually.

And...

it made me realize that
while I'm sitting here

trying to solve theoretical problems,

soldiers were facing real ones.

Real problems that I could solve.

I mean, I loved it here.

I did.

Being around people like us.

It's amazing.

But...

everything we did was so...

abstract.

And I just needed something
a little more hands-on,

so I dropped out

and enlisted, and before I knew it,

I was diffusing IEDs in Afghanistan.

Did you just make a
centrifuge out of cardboard?

Oh, is that what I just did?

It'll spin at 20,000 RPMs,

enough to separate your
blood sample for sequencing.

No match.

Try the foreign DNA database.

No match.

No match.

No match.

Are you trying to tell me

I just stole all that
lab equipment for nothing?

Maybe not nothing.

Those databases... they only
check for 13 genetic markers,

but we have the
killer's entire sequence.

There has to be something we can
do with all that extra information.

Well, there's phenotype prediction.

With a full human genome, you
can determine sex, age, skin,

hair, eye color and facial structure.

You can even tell if they have freckles.

So even though we can't find
the killer in every database,

we can sketch what he looks like?

- Yeah.
- Actually,

if you send me that info, I
think I can do you one better.

I'm still working on the hair,

but if the age and facial
structure you gave me is right,

then this...

is the face of our killer.

Oh, my God.

Am I crazy, or isn't that the
same dude who gave your eulogy?

You're not crazy.

It's Richard Sang.

Okay. Who's Richard Sang?

Just one of the most
powerful men in Boston.

And apparently, one
of the most dangerous.

And it is my great honor

to dedicate this new facility.

Despite recent tragic setbacks,

the future of scientific
research at MIT is bright.

So, the same dude who
fronted your research

is the same dude you
almost busted for murder?

What are the odds of that?

Sang is one of MIT's
most generous benefactors.

I can't believe he'd
do something like this.

Believe it.

Riley found proof the
reporter Sang murdered

was about to expose
him for massive fraud.

Yeah, but we're gonna need
more than hacked e-mails

and one of Bozer's creepy
clay heads to nail this guy.

If I could get a sample of his DNA,

- I could provide a conclusive match.
- Okay.

So we need a strand of hair,
a glass he drank from or what?

Unfortunately, my technique
only works on blood.

That's okay. Drawing blood's
my specialty, sweetheart.

_

Mr. Sang?

Mr. Sang?

Will this facility
continue developing the, uh,

Vanketesh-Mallory DNA
sequencing technique?

Or did you think that avenue of
research was pretty much dead?

Frankie. My God, you're...

Oh, very much so...

- no thanks to you.
- What? I don't...

Mr. Sang, we should talk.

Come with us.

Hey, dick!

Actually, I think campus
police can take it from here.

Oh, great. Officers, I'd like to confess

to an assault via sucker punch.

I don't suppose either
one of you rent-a-cops has

an evidence bag on you, do you?

Ha-ha! Hungry like the wolf, son.

The blood on Jack's ring is

a 13-point match to the killer.

Sang is being taken
into custody as we speak.

And I had a chat with the local FBI.

He's not gonna buy his
way out of this one.

So, they're gonna need this
for evidence, or whatever?

'Cause I worked really hard on it.

We'll let you know, Boze.

And thanks, everyone,
for helping us out.

And you did it with six hours to spare.

So get your butts back on
a plane and get home now.

Both of you.

Jack, you think you can con
your way into the French embassy

with that sling on your arm?

But of course, mon ami.

Arrivederci.

Okay, that's Italian.

Whatever.

Little love.

Ah.

Well, boy genius,

any chance I could convince you to stay?

Gonna need a hand rebuilding my lab.

Honestly, Frankie, there's
a part of me that wants to.

And then there's that other part, yeah.

Yeah. But, hey, if you hit a snag,

- if you want to brainstorm ideas...
- Mm.

... or if you just want to
tell me how you're doing.

I think we're smart enough to uh,

figure out how to use a telephone.

Or build one.

Hey, Riley.

I'm, uh...

I'm sorry.

For what?

For, you know,

not taking any of the one billion hints

you've been dropping.

And for making things
weird about Captain Aloha.

I mean... Kalei.

I let my hopes about what we could be...

blind me to what we are.

And what we are is...

is pretty great.

Are you saying you're
finally ready to be my friend?

Then could we please grab a burger

and talk about Resident Evil 7?

Absolutely. On one condition.

Can you give me some advice?

'Cause, uh, I've been
thinking about my game,

and it could probably use some tweaks.

- Yeah. Little tweaks.
- Yeah.

Little tweaks here and there.

- All right.
- So, when it come to women...

You know I've been thinking,
maybe Frankie was right, man.

Maybe you should stay here.

- Jack.
- No, I'm not kidding.

I mean, Frankie and you are
both so smart and in sync,

I'm starting to feel like the dumb one.

You're not the dumb one.

Yes, I am, and you know it.

And you really are a genius, man.

I'm just thinking maybe you belong

with your own kind, you know, the nerds.

- Are you trying to White Fang me?
- No.

Harry and the Hendersons. You
remember when John Lithgow,

even though he loved
that Sasquatch, man,

he punched him right in the face

to convince him to
move back to the woods

and live with the
other Bigfoot creatures?

Look, I don't want to
work at a lab at MIT, okay?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I want to work with you.

- Is that what you wanted to hear?
- Oh.

You trying to make me cry?

You know, for a tough guy,
you sure do get emotional easy.

That doesn't mean I won't whup
that ass for calling me a sissy.

- Uh, it's not even what I said.
- That's what I heard.

Well, you should get your ears checked,

'cause your arm's not the
only thing that's broken.

Your face is broken.

Now that's dumb.