Person of Interest (2011–2016): Season 3, Episode 21 - Beta - full transcript

Hello.

Hello.

Grace, there's something
you should know about me.

There's nothing you can say
that will make me run away.

Harold!
Please, my fiance...

- Do you know where he might...
- I'm sorry.

This is everybody
we pulled out of the water.

If we let him
walk out that door,

Decima wins,
Samaritan will go live.

If we're now in a place

where the machine is asking us
to commit murder,



that's a place I can't go.

I'm afraid this is
where I get off.

I said open the register now!

I want the cash!

Who the hell are you?

Ordinarily, I'd be the chick

kicking
your amateur-hour ass.

Really, Raul?
You covered your face,

but no gloves?
Prints on the door.

The cops will have you
in an hour.

Not smart with Charisse
and a two-year-old at home.

But today...

is your lucky day.

Just drop the gun...



take the diapers
and get the hell outta here.

Your kid's better off
with a father.

You saved our lives.

From him? No.

No.

He wasn't a real threat.

But did you notice
that your security cameras

have been off all afternoon?

I wonder why Ricky here

begged you
to work a shift today.

Two words. Inside job.

For the ice cream.

You didn't need backup
after all.

But for the record,

I'd have just
kneecapped that guy.

Especially if I was
nursing a leg wound.

Okay, first, my leg is fine.

And second, what's with
the tips on field work?

Who died and made you Finch?

Ah... it's the role
I gotta play

until the real one comes back.

And when is that?
It's been over a week.

No... call, no... no text.

Not even a smoke signal.

Finch will reach out to us
when he's good and ready.

Until then...

Nice to see you, too, John.

Where the hell
did you come from?

El Paso, most recently.

The thing with
the narco-trafficker.

Very relevant,
but not the point.

Take a peek around
that corner, you two.

Ambush.

Who are the party crashers?

Decima trigger teams...
waiting for you

with no less than
six submachine guns

and one honest-to-goodness
Russian RPG-7.

We need to get invisible.
Fast.

Phones and earpieces.
Now.

Streets aren't safe.

Decima's machine is online.

Can see us anywhere
and everywhere

in the five boroughs
of New York City.

Samaritan?
You confirmed it?

Our names are on the list,
and Greer is keeping score.

All systems... cameras, phones,
the GPS in your car

can track us.

So what, Samaritan
can think for itself now?

- It can learn?
- I don't think so.

Right now, all it can do
is watch us and follow.

Just remember... what our
machine sees, Samaritan sees.

Two gods playing with
the same deck of cards.

Stop.

We need to find another way.

Mr. Greer, I'd assumed
the beta test of your system

would be a little more...

professional.

The espresso machine
is on its way.

And I can assure you, Senator,

Samaritan is running
as smooth as a Swiss watch.

How long will it take?

You've had all the city's
domain awareness feeds

for four hours already.

And look
at what those four hours

have already produced.

All probable terrorists
in the city of New York

pinpointed, categorized,

and tracked with
an up-to-the-second GPS.

I can assure you, Senator,

that we will have
a hard target for you soon.

And you'll inform me
when you do?

You will be the first to know.

- Fine.
- Mm.

You know we've gotten
dozens of results already.

Any one of these guys
is practically gift-wrapped.

And we'll deliver.

But not until after
we've located Harold Finch.

Where are we on that?

Samaritan couldn't
find a lead, sir.

He may have skipped town.

Should we consider
turning on its higher,

more cognitive functions?

This thing has a mind.
Why don't we use it?

For the simple reason
we don't have the hardware.

If it can't find this Finch,

how 'bout the next best thing?

If we have it combine

everything it knows
about Harold Finch

and ask it to find
his closest living connection,

let's see what it
comes up with.

Hug the wall.
There's a camera up ahead.

We're covered on 23rd Street

by the Flushing Line
elevated tracks.

We make it that far,

and maybe we don't get shot

by the six Decima agents
waiting a block away.

Samaritan 101.

Let's go.

Missed one.

Hold here
until the light changes.

The camera angle switches
with oncoming traffic.

Come on!

John.

When that light switches,
we're screwed!

We can't worry about
irrelevant numbers now.

What is it thinking...?
Telling us to lay low

then handing us a new number?

- There's no time!
- This is a life.

And Finch would
tell us to save it.

So you tell your
complicated boss

if it wants me
to step out of danger,

then I need more than
just numbers.

I want a name.

Fine.
She's giving it to me.

I'll tell you on...

- Oh, no.
- What?

Who is it?

Looks like Samaritan's
found a connection.

There.

Who is she?

Not sure.

Could be family,
a friend, a coworker.

Bring her to me.

"Let not your
hearts be troubled.

In my father's house
are many rooms.

And if I go to prepare
a place for you,

I will come again,

and where I am,
you may be also."

Amen.

Ordinarily, I'd say a few words
about the deceased, but...

Oh, no,
that's all right, Father.

It was lovely.
Thank you.

The bombing was such a tragedy.

So many lives taken at once.

I didn't know your fiance,

but I pray his soul
finds peace.

Thank you.

I would have thought
at least one...

I beg your pardon?

Not a crowd... He didn't
really have any family,

but a friend or...

a coworker.

Just...

one other person who knew

how truly special Harold was

and wanted to say
good-bye.

Ms. Hendricks,
you ordered a car?

Yes! To JFK?

- Let me get that.
- Thank you.

International, right?
Where you headed?

I'm going to a job
interview in Italy.

I'm not even sure if I want it,

but I have to
show them my work.

If you could be really
careful with this...

those are paintings.

- Wow, you're an artist, huh?
- Yeah.

My daughter loves to paint.

Do you have a website?
I'd love to show her your stuff.

Aw. That's sweet. Yeah,
I think I have a card.

Oh, she'll be so excited.

Nice of you to do that.

Little late for the flu shot.

Ms. Hendricks,
I'm Detective Stills.

We met before.
Do you remember?

Where did you come from?

My partner and I need
to get you to a safe place.

This man works for a very
dangerous criminal organization,

and others are on their way.

So we need to hurry.
Emphasis on the hurry.

Image captures
from down the street

from Ms. Hendricks'
apartment.

Our operative was intercepted

before he could acquire her.

I believe you're familiar

with the two
who came to her rescue.

We're currently tracking them
across Manhattan.

Enough of these games.

Zachary!

Sir.

Deploy all operatives
into the field.

Bring me Grace Hendricks

and eliminate the rest.

Copy that.

No, no, no.
What are you doing?

You can't be in here.

Yes, we can, Lionel.
We're police.

Detective Stills, remember?

You're killing me with that.

It's not safe for you in here.

It's a good point.

Any way to turn
those things off?

The cameras?

Department's got 'em up
all over the place now.

Lionel, meet Grace.

She's got some very bad
people trying to hurt her.

I don't know what's going on,

but these detectives
saved my life.

Yeah.
They're good at that.

Now can we find her
a place to rest?

Yeah, all right, come on.

Come here.

All units, take positions.

Sir, we have
the precinct surrounded.

We're ready to move in.

Hold your position.

The situation may require
a certain amount of...

finesse.

It's lousy, but it's warm.

Thank you.

How you holding up?

Why would someone
want to hurt me?

I can't tell you what's
going on out there.

But in here, you're safe.

The other detectives...
Stills and his partner...

are they always like that?

I know they come off
a little stiff.

But they've saved my life
dozens of times.

Trust me...
they're the good guys.

I'm sorry.
Can I help you?

Special Agent Maybank.

There's a woman by the name
of Hendricks here.

I need to take her
into custody.

And you just happen
to know she's here.

I have a warrant.

It's notarized.

That's a cute trick,
but you ain't getting anywhere.

Is there a problem, Detective?

Lieutenant Fusco.
Special Agent Maybank.

Oh, of course.

We were just about
to question your suspect.

I had a feeling she was
tied to something bigger.

Now, if you like,
I can bring her to you

in the interrogation room.

- Please.
- Sure.

Right this way.

- It'll just be a second.
- Thank you.

- Hey, good night, Sarge.
- Night.

Fusco.

Got a late-night
collar here.

Picked her up with
two unregistered weapons.

Hate to crash the party,

but a mutual friend
thought I could help in here.

So you got yourself arrested?

Wouldn't be the first time.

Help me out here?

In evidence locker 7-7-9-B,

there's a coil of copper wire.

In 4-4-3-A, there's a pair
of needle-nosed pliers.

I need them,
a roll of duct tape,

and an extension cord.

Oh, is that all, Cocoa Puffs?

Tell our men
to position themselves

around the station

where there's
no surveillance coverage.

Is there a problem, sir?

We're not the only ones
with eyes and ears everywhere.

Hey, hey, hey.
Where you going?

How is Detective Stills
one of the good guys

when he's not even
Detective Stills?

Hendricks, Grace R.

BFA, Rhode Island
School of Design, MFA, Yale.

You're a smart lady.

So listen to what happens
when you walk out that door.

If you're not shot by one of

three former force recon
scout snipers,

you'll be grabbed by some
lummox named Zachary

in an SUV with bogus
Ohio plates...

a fate far worse
than the lies told

to protect you in this room.

Believe it or not,

she's one of the good guys too.

What is going on?

I barely believe
this is a police station.

You're in a situation
you can't control

that's larger
than you can imagine.

Sit tight,

and we'll keep you alive.

Lionel...

what did you find for me?

What's that thing?

An induction coil.

This is the precinct's
telecom box.

The wires from all the cameras
run through this wall.

Each of those wires is protected
by a copper sheath

which I'm overloading
with 110 volts of electricity.

What, are you trying
to burn the place down?

Just cooking it a little.

Very clever.

You're gonna want to
dispose of that.

Especially when your IT guys
show up in the morning.

Terrific.
Anything else, Princess?

Your phone and an unmarked car.

Here. You better not be
calling China.

Hmm.
Just...

down the street, actually.

All units, there's
been an explosion

on 1214 Grand Street.

It's an abandoned three-story
building.

The explosion occurred
on the top floor.

All units in area
respond immediately.

What do you think?
Did we lose 'em?

It was always 50/50.

Zachary,
get Ms. Hendricks to safety,

and then dispose of the others.

I've got her, sir.

Never thought I'd love
the sight of New Jersey.

You sure we're safe here?

From everything but the coffee.

And, yes, we're off the radar

as long as we're outside
the five boroughs.

Samaritan
can't see this far... yet.

We have to go back
and find Grace.

If Decima's throwing
everything they have at us,

then she's their way
to get to Finch.

Still the faithful
watchdog, huh?

Even after Harold left you.

Are you gonna help us or not?

I thought you'd never ask.

See everything in red?

These are dead zones
in the city.

Spots where our machine
can't find a hint

of audio
or visual surveillance.

When Decima took Grace,

they disappeared
to this spot here.

Red Hook Marine Terminal.

An entire port blacked out
to surveillance.

Someone doesn't want
the world to see

what's going in or coming out.

Here's your pancakes.

I'm guessing it's our
best shot at finding Grace.

Then let's go take a look.

Stop the clock, sports fans.

How do either of you plan on
getting us back into the city?

There's our ride.

Where am I?

Where am I, damn it?

I asked you a question.

Tell me where I am.
Now.

Where you are is of
very little interest, my dear.

Who you are... now, that's
a question worth pursuing.

What right do you have

to abduct me...

to keep me here?

Your questions
only delay my own.

Please.

Now, tell me...

Grace Hendricks...

who exactly are you?

You can lose the hat.

Whole area's a dead zone,
meaning "Camera Free."

And since we ditched
our phones,

I took the liberty
of grabbing a few of these

on our way out of the 8th.

Okay, so how many bad guys
are we looking at here?

- What kind of firepower?
- I have no idea.

As long as we're here,
we're flying blind.

Finally...

a chance for some good
old-fashioned recon.

There's nothing
here but employee records.

She's gotta be on one of
those four container ships at dock.

You're sure you saw
four ships out there?

Yeah. Why?

Terminal manifest
only lists three.

What do you say we take
a look behind door number four?

You two head below
deck, try to find Grace.

I'll keep watch up here.

No sign of Grace.

Or anyone else.

Takes a big crew
to run a ship this size.

So where is everybody?

Discoloration of the lips,

fingernails.

Signs of respiratory arrest.

I'm guessing...
botulinum toxin.

For a job well done.

Decima.

But why would they
poison the crew?

Unless they have
something to hide.

You guys might
wanna come up here.

There's something
you should see.

Computer servers.

I'd say there's about
60 per container.

And, yes...
they're state-of-the-art.

With chipsets
and acceleration technology

unlike anything I've ever seen.

Three guesses what Decima's
gonna use them for.

But you won't need three.

Samaritan?
But it's already online.

You think it's scary now?

Samaritan's a brand-new system,
a child learning to crawl.

These servers...
are for when it can run.

Can't question a dead guy.

But maybe this can help.

You couldn't have aimed
2 inches higher?

Everybody's a critic today.

Let's just go find you
a computer.

Ready when you are.

It was Decima, all right.

Here to take inventory
of the cargo.

And receiving orders
via self-deleting texts.

They never make it easy,
do they?

Can't read the texts,

but the machine found
where they came from.

A building in Brooklyn.

If Decima's camped out there,

then Grace probably is too.
Let's go.

Are you coming?

She's telling me to stay put.

You guys can handle it
from here.

I've got work to do.

How do you take it?

I don't.

Well... if you get parched...

Now...

let's go over it...
one more time.

The part where I tell you
I'm an illustrator

who has no idea
what she's doing here

or the part where
you don't believe me?

Oh, I believe
you're an illustrator.

And I believe that
you were born

on the 12th of April, 1969,
in Columbia, South Carolina,

to Paul and Marilyn Hendricks

of the pale blue house
on Forrester Lane.

Your bedroom
was the upper right one

overlooking the street.

Your parents still live there,
don't they?

Charming couple.

Who are you?

You've studied history of art.

Just think of me as...

Michelangelo
in the Sistine Chapel

lying on his back...

trying to paint a portrait
of a rather elusive subject.

Michelangelo painted it
standing up.

Oh?

One of those little things
you learn in art history.

And I can't help you
make a picture of God.

Perhaps you can.

Ever been married?

I'm sure that file of yours
can tell you the answer's no.

Married to your career then?

I'm simply trying to get
a sense of your life

and the people in it.

Mom, dad...
no one else?

Nobody. Friends.

Mostly artists.

Seems a shame...

woman of your beauty,
intelligence,

obvious talent...

I'd think you'd be
quite a catch.

I was engaged once,
four years ago.

But he's dead now.

I'm truly sorry.

How did it happen?

The ferry bombing.

His name was Harold.

How tragic.

Please... tell me
about Harold.

Must be awful
losing a loved one

to an act of terrorism.

I hope his burial provided you

with a modicum of closure.

It was a memorial,
not a burial.

His remains were lost at sea.

And my closure's
none of your business.

Can you name any one thing
about Harold

that you know to be
absolutely true?

I can name dozens.
He was kind, intelligent...

Yes, yes, yes.

Harold Martin,
freelance software engineer.

Orphan with a love of art
and a heart of gold.

So you said.

So he told you.

Are you implying
that Harold lied to me?

I'm implying that your Harold

lived a remarkably
anonymous life...

Perhaps more than one.

What?

Are you out of your mind?

I'm simply trying to discern

whether you're lying to me
about this man

or just to yourself.

I don't know who you are

or how this ends, but...

we're done here.
No more questions.

No more questions about me
and my life or Harold.

No need to lose your temper.

Here's all you need to know
about me, old man.

My dad was an alcoholic.

Nearly tore the family
to pieces.

The thing about
growing up that way...

you get good at spotting lies.

So good that you start
expecting them from everyone.

So how do I know

what Harold told me was true?

Because when he came along,

against every instinct,

I gave him my trust.

Somehow I knew...

he would never break it.

And if you doubt that
even for a second,

you're the one
who's lying to himself.

You truly loved him,
didn't you?

I would have done
anything to save him.

And Harold would have done
anything for me.

Yes.

I have no doubt.

Answer me one question.

Why are you
so interested in Harold?

He's dead.

Your tea's gone cold.

Feel free to freshen it up.

Zachary, I finished
our interview with our subject.

Have you found her protectors?

Yes, sir. Samaritan
has located their car.

We're moving in now.

Get out of the car!

Hands up!

Who are you?

How did you get this vehicle?

Easy, man!

I-I just asked for a dollar.

They gave me the keys.

Sir, we lost them.

They engineered a distraction.

Now, why would they
create a distraction

that dragged us all the way
to one side of the city...

unless they were
on their way to the other?

Our location
has been compromised.

Disassemble everything.
Now!

Next time we need to hide from
an all-seeing super computer,

we're getting separate trunks.

My favorite thing
about New York cabbies...

they have terrible memories.

See?

- You forgot us already?
- Yeah, yeah.

Decima's holed
up in there somewhere,

and if we're lucky,
so is Grace.

I'm sick of hiding.

Let's make some noise.

Somebody call Tech Support?

Got this one, Shaw.

You find Grace?

Found an interrogation room
set up with tea for two.

Still warm.
We just missed her.

Our friend here
is gonna tell us

everything he knows about Grace
and Samaritan.

Oh, I sincerely doubt that.

Besides... all you need
to know about Ms. Hendricks

is that she's with me,

and for the moment, quite safe.

Let her go.

Or Geek Squad here
catches a bullet.

Amusing performance.

I'm afraid...

Virgil's already dead.

Aren't you, Virgil?

At dawn, Grace Hendricks
will be at the Jefferson Bridge.

I'll be very happy
to return her to you...

in exchange for Harold Finch.

What makes you think
we'd agree to that?

Your agreement is irrelevant.

Get the message
to Mr. Finch.

I expect he'll cooperate.

For Ms. Hendricks' sake,
don't be late.

We can't trade Harold.
We can't even find him.

Then we've only got a few hours

to come up with a way
to save Grace.

- Yep.
- Hi, you two.

The machine says
the security camera

overlooking the entrance
to Grace's building

just went out.

Thought you should know.

Finch.

How did you
take out the camera?

I still have a few tricks left.

I'd hoped maybe
it wasn't too late,

that I could warn her.

They want me, don't they?

We're not giving
you to Decima, Harold.

We just got you back.

The three of us will come up
with some kind of way.

No, any change of plans
would put Grace at risk,

and I can't allow that.

I'll trade myself for her.

The two of you
will stay with me

and make sure that Decima

holds up their end of the deal.
Understood?

Whatever you want, Finch.
We'll be there.

Thank you.

There's one more thing.

I'd like you to avoid
violence if at all possible.

But...

if they harm Grace
in any way...

kill them all.

This is the best plan

you three could come up with?

We had no choice, Lionel.

Well, I don't like it.
We're too exposed.

And there are
cameras everywhere,

which is why we do nothing.

No one fires a shot
unless we have to.

Don't do this, Harold.

We'll think of something.

We've faced worse.

Worse?

Have we?
I don't think so.

From the day
the machine went online,

part of me knew

that I would never be able
to sever myself from it...

and that anyone
I ever cared about

was in danger.

It was foolish
to imagine otherwise.

I tried to guard myself,
stay hidden,

from the government,
the authorities,

people looking.

Here we still are.

This moment was inevitable.

This moment
was always looking for me.

I have to accept it.

It's for Grace when she's safe.

There was no other way.

Keep yourself alive, Harold.

I'll be coming for you.

Remember what I said.

She's all that matters.

Walk a straight line.
100 paces.

Don't take off the blindfold
until you're all the way there.

Thank you.

Get her outta here now.

Day like today, it's gotta
feel good to come home.

Hey.

You gonna be okay?

Honestly, I don't know.

Is it gonna be safe here?

No.

They have what they
want for now,

but that won't stop them
from coming after you again.

Which is why
you should open this.

That job you were
looking at in Italy?

You've been selected
for the position.

What? I didn't even
go on the interview.

I was supposed to leave...

Your flight leaves tonight.

The job begins next week.

They'll set you up
with an apartment,

stipend, all under the name
on that passport.

Lionel here will get you
to the airport safely.

It's a good time to start over.

Please don't look back.

Did you know him?

Harold?

Is he what this was all about?

All I know for sure is...

you loved him.

And he loved you back.

Step away from the door!

Get on the ground!
Now!

Results of the
Samaritan beta test, Senator.

One terrorist, as requested.

His real name

and what he was planning,

should you care to know
the specifics.

Rest assured, I'll get
very well acquainted

with the specifics.

Assuming everything pans out...

I'll be in touch.

So Samaritan's
losing the feeds then?

For the moment.

But we've gained
the Senator's confidence.

And something
far more valuable.

Drive.

So what's all the way
out in Mount Vernon

that's so important?

At the time, it was
outside New York City limits

and Samaritan's prying eyes.

At the time?

Decima's lost the feeds.

So for now,
the only one watching is her.

Chin up, kids.
You're not out of the game yet.

Trust me.

We lost Finch,
which means we lost everything.

Not everything.

We now have
seven of Samaritan's servers.

Like I said...

trust me.

You blindfolded her.

I appreciate that.

Least I could do.

Had a feeling
you'd prefer it that way.

And I didn't want to
get off on the wrong foot.

After all...

you've been
a very hard man to find.