Person of Interest (2011–2016): Season 3, Episode 6 - Mors Praematura - full transcript
Reese and Finch go on separate missions. Finch has noticed that Shaw has been less responsive than she even usually is and he sends Reese to go find her. Reese initially discovers evidence that Shaw was abducted, but later finds more evidence that she may have gone willingly with her abductor: Root. He has to find what Root is up to, she who has been in contact with the Machine, which is feeding her information for her latest mission requiring Shaw's assistance. In the meantime, Finch works on their latest number, that of Timothy Sloan, an estate investigator for the New York Public Administrator. Finch is pretty sure that he is the target because of what he has found during one of his investigations. Finch will learn that that investigation is of Jason Greenfield, who died two weeks ago of a heroin overdose and whose case file is not Sloan's. It is Sloan's personal connection to Greenfield and Greenfield's activities as a computer hacker that are the key. And Carter learns a little more about the workings of HR when Laskey voluntarily reveals a bit of himself to her.
You are being watched.
The government has a secret system--
a machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.
I designed the machine
to detect acts of terror
but it sees everything--
violent crimes involving ordinary people.
The government considered
these people irrelevant.
We don't.
Hunted by the authorities,
we work in secret.
You'll never find us.
But victim or perpetrator,
if your number's up, we'll find you.
Did you miss me?
We're gonna have so much fun together.
He is digging around,
getting way too close.
Should we silence him?
We can't let him jeopardize our operation.
Put it to a vote.
I'm in, Finch. Care to tell me where?
The apartment you're in
belongs to Ms. Shaw.
I promised to respect her boundaries,
but for eight hours,
our agreed-upon means of
contact have gone unanswered.
So you tracked her down.
Ms. Shaw may be violent
and uncommunicative,
but she is never tardy.
Something is amiss, and I
need you to find out what.
So what are you up to?
My waist approximately.
Don't be so delicate, Harold.
I need you to get in there and dig.
See, people, they put business
cards in dirty clothes,
jot phone numbers on napkins.
A single relative's name is all we need.
Watch out for rats.
Rats?
As you may have guessed,
we have a new number: Timothy Sloan,
An estate investigator for the
new york public administrator.
If somebody dies without
an apparent next of kin
like the compulsive hoarder
who used to live here,
they send in Sloan to find one.
So when somebody dies,
Sloan figures out who gets their stuff.
Exactly.
I'm undercover as his new partner.
Finch, you know I don't like you
heading into danger without me.
I'm not so thrilled about my
current circumstances either,
but I need you where you are.
Speaking of which, have you found anything?
Nothing unexpected.
Raymond Chandler.
I grew up reading this stuff.
I always dreamed about
becoming a detective.
Did you try the police academy?
Turns out they're not crazy about
hiring someone who can't shoot straight.
You check the fridge yet?
For a next of kin?
You'd be surprised what pops
up behind moldy leftovers.
Nothing in here but old milk,
an enormous quantity of something
that used to be pasta,
and-- wait.
What'd I tell you?
The cooler temperatures
keep the film from fading.
Jackpot. See for yourself.
Marcia the Hoarder has a sister.
Which means we have an heir.
Good work, Harold. Our job here is done.
Mr. Reese, I have to leave now.
We found what we needed.
Unfortunately, so did I.
Taser confetti,
Ejected whenever one is fired.
I suppose it's too much to
hope she tased herself.
Knowing Shaw, it's possible.
But if I had to guess, I'd
say she's in trouble.
Sorry about that.
Which part: the tasing, the drugging,
or whatever this is?
I had to make sure you'd hear me out.
She needs our help,
and I figured you wouldn't come willingly.
She?
The machine's given me a mission,
And step one is to team up with you.
I'll pass.
Trust issues.
Besides, the machine gives missions
to Harold and the government--
relevant, irrelevant.
Why would it be talking to you?
Because now, there's a third category.
Things are evolving.
And my relationship with
the machine is a little...
different.
As for trust issues,
I'm happy to take the first step.
There's a gun for you in
the glove compartment.
Thanks, but a knife will do just fine.
This is the part where you
give me one good reason
why I should believe anything you say.
October 2, 1988.
You took a road trip with your father
to watch the Houston Oilers
play the Philadelphia Eagles.
- He bought you a sweatshirt...
- Don't talk about my father.
It told you that?
The machine trusts me,
even if you don't.
You spent years working for the machine,
and she was never wrong.
If you don't help me,
someone might destroy her,
and innocent people will die.
Forget how you feel about me.
How would you feel about that?
Okay.
I'll forget how I feel about you.
But when this is over,
you better hope I don't remember.
Good evening, Mr. Reese.
Staying out of trouble, Finch?
For the moment, although I'm not sure
our Mr. Sloan could say the same.
I hacked into his office network
to see what he's up to.
It appears our estate investigator
has taken an unorthodox interest
in a case that isn't his.
Jason Greenfield, died two weeks ago
of an apparent heroin overdose,
no next of kin.
How is Sloan's interest unorthodox?
Would going to a dead man's apartment alone
in the middle of the night qualify?
Any progress in finding Ms. Shaw?
Her building doesn't have cameras,
but the one across the street does.
And they agreed to let you see the footage?
After some convincing and a sleeper hold.
Point is I found out who took Shaw,
and you're not gonna like it.
Find them, Mr. Reese. Now.
Why the hell are you following me?
Contrary to the saying,
his bite is far worse.
Trust me. Bear, stil.
Now, perhaps you'd like to
explain why you're breaking
into Jason Greenfield's apartment
and taking his possessions,
including that watch.
I'm not a thief.
Read the back.
"To Jason Greenfield
from the Sloan family."
You knew him?
Jason was my foster brother.
I'm here 'cause I'm trying
to solve his murder.
It's me and Jason.
His parents were addicts.
They burnt the house down
cooking meth when he was 14.
My mom and dad had started fostering, so...
instant brother.
When he was 18, my parents gave him this,
you know, just-- just to remind him
that no matter what, he always had us.
I just wish he believed it.
What do you mean?
Jason always messed around with hacking.
And after moving out, he got more obsessed,
and spent more and more
time with other hackers.
Finally just fell off the map.
Two weeks ago, I'm looking at
another investigator's case files,
and I see his name.
I couldn't believe it.
I mean, he swore that he
would never start using.
Now, he dies of an O.D.?
- People do change. - Not Jason.
Not--not-- not about that.
The minute I walked in, I knew.
I mean, I've been to the homes of
a lot of heroin addicts who died.
You know what you don't see?
High-end TV.
Stereo.
Gold watch?
It all goes to getting their fix.
You think someone killed
him, then covered it up.
- Why? - I'm not sure.
But let's take a look at what isn't here.
No computer, no tablet, no phone.
What kind of hacker
doesn't have a computer?
It does seem strange.
You found nothing with any
data in it whatsoever?
I found a flash drive in the
microwave before you came in.
Looks like he fried it.
May I?
I'd like to help if I can.
Jason may have tried to destroy
the contents of the drive.
Yes, it's largely been wiped clean.
Wait.
There's a fragment of stray data.
It's a piece of an email.
What does it say?
I can only recover a few words.
"You don't understand.
If I try to leave, they'll kill me."
The question is, who are they?
And what is this?
I found it in Jason's jacket.
It's an address for...
a storage unit.
That is weird.
Our guys checked. He didn't
have a storage unit.
Yeah, sure.
That's one way to lower your cholesterol.
HR's protection payment.
Dirty money for dirty cops.
Deliver it as usual.
Then find out where it goes from there.
I can't do that.
Do you really wanna test me?
'Cause I've got a shiny new
1911 to back me up on that.
What did Morozov say to you back there?
Beats me. I don't speak Russian.
That's funny
'Cause it looked like you
understood every word.
Look.
Morozov's been running that
deli since I was a kid.
HR knows that and respects it.
These payments are about loyalty.
Let me tell you something, Laskey.
One day soon, you're gonna find out
exactly what HR expects from you
in return for that loyalty.
- You get a good look at her?
- She came outta nowhere.
Got your message, Lionel.
Looks like you found Root's car.
Yeah, and a crazy story to go with it.
Guy over there says this medical supply van
was just stolen by two
women driving that car.
One waves them down, engine trouble.
When he goes to take a look,
the other one knocks him out
with some kind of martial arts.
I hate to tell you, but Root and Shaw,
they're working as a team,
a scary one.
A thank-you would be nice.
Finch, I'm closer to Root and Shaw.
From what I'm seeing, it
looks less like an abduction
and more like a partnership.
A partnership? To what end?
No idea, but with Root
involved, anything's possible.
A troubling development, Mr. Reese,
and I'm afraid I have another one.
It seems that Mr. Sloan's
foster brother Jason
may have been murdered by
some mysterious group.
You think that same group might
be the threat against Sloan?
The only way to know for
sure would be to determine
who killed Jason and why.
Are you sure you don't
need my help on this?
No, Mr. Reese, tracking
Ms. Shaw is your top priority.
All right.
But, Finch, I'm here if you need me.
So I just got off the phone
with the manager from the storage center.
Unit 117 was rented out to
a guy named John Glover.
Now, he recognized Jason's description,
said that Jason was one
of a bunch of people
who used to visit that unit at all hours.
The day after Jason died,
those same people came back
in, cleaned the place out,
scrubbed it from top to bottom with bleach.
Did they have a photo I.D.
on file for John Glover?
No.
Glover paid a full year
in advance with cash.
- For all we know--
- Glover may not even exist.
Let's see if any other storage units
have been rented using that name.
No other rentals under John Glover,
but there in Brooklyn,
another unit paid for a full year in cash
and rented the same day they
cleared out John Glover's unit.
Who rented that one?
Samuel Miles.
Wait.
John Glover? Samuel Miles?
That's the connection-- Glover and Miles
are both generals in the
American Revolution.
Hardly seems like a coincidence.
Let's go find that storage unit.
So this mission we're on, what is it?
We'll find out soon enough.
When you see this statue again,
think impact.
The machine told you that?
I suppose I could be making it up.
And I suppose I could be kicking your ass.
Insurance.
And where are we headed to now?
Down.
Spaghetti and an oxygen tank
make a mean thermal lance.
What am I cutting?
This.
You know the last time I used a blowtorch
was to get intel from an
uncooperative source.
Now, you either tell me
what we're here to do,
or I walk.
Honestly?
Most of the time,
I'm told what to do a second
before I have to do it.
The big picture, that's hers.
The only thing I know for sure is
I need you.
Then you should get out of my way.
Wait.
Safety first.
Funny, the stuff you learn from work.
My truck's stuffed with crowbars,
key cutters, and bump hammers.
Never know what you're
gonna need for the job.
Let's see what the people who
killed my brother were doing here.
Good. This is empty too.
Why pay for a storage
unit a year in advance
and put nothing in it?
Look at the dust.
A lot of activity along this wall here.
They are storing something here.
We just need to shine a light
of a different spectrum,
the kind somebody like you
might use to detect fluids.
You have anything like that in your truck?
I do.
Okay, so you don't know what we're doing.
Can you at least tell me
what we're doing next?
Breaking and entering.
Locked door.
Phone.
What's missing?
Behind you.
Highly trained operative in a bad suit.
This is a CIA pickup site.
- Agent number? - 947-0038 alpha.
- Confirmation? - Diego 241.
Pickup tomorrow, 0800.
Have the package ready.
Okay, so what's the package?
I am.
Here you go. UV lamp.
Kill the lights.
Oh, my God.
What is this?
A message center
for people who'd want to communicate
without being overheard.
Question is...
what are they saying?
All right, that's weird.
Look at this sprinkler.
It's--they're not attached
to the same pipes
that service the other units.
Right there.
Looks like some kind of motor.
Camera. Oh, dear. We've gotta get--
We're locked in!
It's gasoline!
They're gonna burn the
place down with us in it.
Mr. Reese.
I believe I know who
tried to burn us alive.
The last time I saw code like this,
it was used by this man.
Peter Collier.
He's a member of a group
trying to send a message
about government surveillance and privacy.
And he'll kill anyone who gets in his way.
So far, Collier's the most
visible member of the group,
and your foster brother Jason Greenfield
was likely a member as well.
But Jason would never hurt anyone.
That may not have been
his role in the group.
The email I recovered
from Jason's flash drive
contained an identifier string
that I was able to match to a
conversation on the Darknet,
an exchange between hackers,
One of whom was being lauded for exploits
that were nothing short of astonishing.
The hacker goes by the name of Atlas7,
but their real identity seems clear.
- My brother. - Indeed.
The targets he chose are all government,
military, data-collecting corporations.
Perhaps that's what put
him on Collier's radar.
So they teamed up,
and at some point,
Greenfield tried to get out.
And they killed him.
They may be coming after you now.
- Me? - These people value privacy.
Secrecy above all else, Mr. Sloan.
- By uncovering them--
- You kicked the hornet's nest.
The best way to protect you from Collier
is to find out what he's up to
and get out ahead of it.
The messages in the storage units
appear to have been encrypted
with a running key cipher.
We find the key, we break the code.
- So what's the key?
- A long string of text.
A letter, a book.
Jason would've had that key too.
So it must be in his apartment.
I'll go check it out.
And I'll go somewhere where I
can do more in-depth research.
I'm coming with you.
You should stay here.
You're looking for the
key to this code, right?
There's something I do
better than anybody else,
and that's finding things
that people keep hidden.
Please.
Let me do it for Jason.
Come on.
CIA is here to pick us up.
Any last words?
24381
24381.
Whatever.
PIN?
24381
24381.
Good to meet you, Agent Dearborn.
She been sanitized?
Looks like you got a fun one.
You don't know the half of it.
Laskey, it's Simmons.
Go see your pal Morozov. I
think he needs your help.
Who are you? Where's Morozov?
Exactly what I called
you here to talk about.
When's the last time you counted
the money you got from Morozov?
You think he's been skimming?
Boss, I've known Morozov my entire life.
- He values HR. - Laskey.
You're a rookie,
so I'm gonna let you off
with a lesson this time.
You need to learn
the difference between knowing
someone and trusting them.
See, this kid I can trust.
Because he values HR? No.
It's because he's scared of us.
You got it?
Yeah. Thanks for the lesson, boss.
That ain't the lesson.
Old man Morozov made the mistake of
pulling a gun when I
called him out as a thief.
There's a shovel in the backseat.
6 feet, kid.
Don't skimp.
Cells one through three secure, Sir.
Hope the voice in your head
knows what it's doing.
That's gotta go.
Sundown, Ottawa, left, right, left, right,
one, two, three.
You say the sweetest things.
Agent Dearborn?
Nick Breckenridge. Chief interrogator.
Little late to be checking in a new asset.
We're prepping all prisoners for transport.
Transport? We just got here.
You know the drill, Dearborn.
We move these guys every 72 hours.
You get to interrogate indefinitely.
Now, I need some info.
Encrypted radios always acting up.
- Name of operation? - Sundown.
- Asset's place of origin? - Ottawa.
Transport authentication number?
Should have gotten it from the
operative guarding the pickup site.
Stress was high on this one.
Must have forgot.
You NOC types think you
can just come in here
and ignore all kinds of
protocol, don't you?
No authentication number, no access.
- Does anybody know how to-- - Left, right.
Left, right, one, two, three.
We use them all the time at the farm.
Give that to the intake
guard at the next site.
And next time, remember your
damn authentication number.
Still searching Greenfield's
apartment, Finch.
Keep looking, Mr. Reese.
None of the books you've
found so far match the code.
- The kitchen's clean.
- No luck here either.
All right, it's gotta be somewhere.
Scavenger hunt.
What?
It's a game that Jason and I
used to play when we were bored.
We would steal something from each other.
Then we'd hide it in the house,
except Jason would always lose
because he always chose the same place.
The heating vent.
Care to brush up on your history, Finch?
The American Revolution
- a concise history.
Why am I not surprised? Let me see.
I've located a copy online.
It seems to match the algorithm
the code is based on.
- I'll start deciphering. - Great.
Sloan and I will--
Where's Sloan?
Grab him!
Hurry, we're on the clock here.
Get out of here!
Mr. Reese?
Mr. Reese?
Mr. Reese, are you all right?
Let's go.
Shots fired.
He's with the guy in the suit.
Mr. Reese.
Collier.
Mr. Reese, are you all right?
You're right, Finch.
It's Collier. Sloan's gone.
And we have no way to track him.
I'm afraid it gets worse.
I've deciphered enough of the
code to learn its purpose.
It's a plan to kill Jason
Greenfield tonight.
Greenfield?
Isn't he already dead?
You can't keep moving me like this.
I'm an American! I have rights.
Do you even know my name?
Jason Greenfield, I presume?
How do you know my name?
I know a lot about you, Jason.
I know you hacked government sites
for a fringe group of activists,
Got squeamish when the
group turned violent,
cut a deal with the Feds in
exchange for a new life,
and got screwed over by
them and stuck in here.
Who the hell are you?
Answer me.
We're on a bit of a clock here,
so let's dispense with the temper tantrum.
To answer your question, I'm like you.
FBI Trojan Horse of 2009, the null worm.
What, that was you?
That thing infected over
7 million computers
worldwide in less than a week.
If you designed the worm,
then you must be able to tell me how--
A self-executing attachment rewrites the OS
to infect nearby bluetooth
devices and spread wirelessly.
That was a long time ago.
I'm more interested in you, Jason.
Jason doesn't exist anymore.
Those CIA liars faked my death.
It was supposed to be for my protection.
In return, I give them
everything about the group.
Instead, they brought me
to this mobile black site.
And now, they can question me forever.
Must have gotten bad for you to reach
out to people you don't trust.
The group murdered someone...
A data broker.
And it's my fault.
I'm the one who told Vigilance
about him in the first place.
- Vigilance? - That's their name.
"Eternal vigilance is
the price of liberty."
I said we should scare the bastard,
but Collier convinced the group
that it was time for more...
aggressive action.
I'm not a killer.
Transport's here.
Prepare to move out.
So you never told me why you're here.
Simple, Jason.
I'm here for you.
I'll be right along.
I'm not letting this one out of my sight.
So Sloan's dead brother is really alive?
Yes, it seems Jason Greenfield
turned himself in to the CIA.
And now, Collier wants to
kill him for being a traitor.
Precisely.
According to the plan, the
assassination of Mr. Greenfield
is scheduled to take place within the hour.
They're probably going to interrogate
Sloan on the way to their mission.
So if we can find where they're
going to kill Greenfield,
then we still have a
chance to save them both.
Just give me a location, Finch.
Got it. An intersection downtown.
I'm sending you the coordinates.
I'm on my way.
So you're his brother.
Jason said he had no family.
What made you choose to look into him now?
None of your business.
You know what?
That is right.
We members of Vigilance value privacy,
even if the government doesn't.
However, when you started
digging into Jason's life,
you also dug into ours,
our methods, our plans,
which brings me to some rather bad news.
We took a vote
as to whether we could
possibly let you live,
and I'm afraid it didn't go your way.
My options at this point are limited,
but what I can offer you is
a quick exchange of words
followed by an even quicker death.
I need to know exactly how
much you know about our group
and who you've told.
Let's start with those two
men I've seen you with.
Who are they? Feds? NSA?
I don't know, okay?
I don't know why they're helping me.
I don't know why they care.
All I know is Jason made a mistake
falling in with you guys.
And when he realized it
and he tried to get out,
you killed him for it.
Seems you've gotten ahead
of things, Mr. Sloan.
Jason Greenfield is very much alive.
You didn't kill him?
No.
But we are about to.
And you're gonna have a front-row seat.
We're here.
Things are about to get a bit hectic.
We'll have to continue
this conversation later.
Until then, Mr. Sloan.
Finch, I'm at the intersection.
And there is Collier's van.
Be careful, Mr. Reese.
What are you doing?
In ten seconds,
Brace yourself.
For what?
Impact.
- Shaw? - Now.
Mr. Reese, what's happening?
Go, go! move!
I just found Shaw.
Unfortunately, so did Collier.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}One, two, three, four, five
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Break down, baby
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Listen
to this, just listen to this
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
So good to hear your voice.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
Time to go, Jason.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}The
number song, but before I start
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Let's have the countdown
Jason?
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
- Shaw. - Reese.
Gotta save somebody.
Know the feeling.
I saw somebody out there.
Tim Sloan. Do you know why he's here?
Is he okay?
Did you see a man heading his way?
Tall, nice suit?
Yeah.
He'll be fine.
Your new identity
and the pass code to a bank
account with $2.5 million.
Go to Cartagena, find a bar
called Sol Azul in Boca Grande.
- Ask for Ruiz. - Who's he?
I have no idea.
Now go.
Why-- why are you helping me?
I'm just following orders,
but my guess is you're necessary.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}One, two, three, four, five
There she is.
I guess a software omniscience
isn't much help if you're out of bullets.
All right, bitch. Where's Greenfield?
Why are you smiling at us?
I'm not smiling at you.
I knew you'd come back for me.
Mission accomplished?
Absolutely.
Good.
That's far enough,
assuming you'd like Mr. Sloan
to survive this encounter.
Peter Collier.
You seem to know my name,
one of 'em,
But I can't say the same about you.
I'm the guy you shot in the back,
and I'm here to return the favor.
Before you do,
perhaps you'd like to tell me how it is
you manage to keep showing
up at Vigilance operations.
I'm persistent.
And energy and persistence
conquer all things.
Benjamin Franklin.
You guys got a thing for the
American revolution, don't you?
That's true.
In fact, it may soon be
time for another one.
Forget it, collier. It's over.
But only for one of us.
You can take me,
or you can save Sloan.
Finch, Collier shot Sloan
in the femoral artery.
We need help.
There's an ambulance on the way, Mr. Reese.
Hang in there. You're gonna be all right.
You learn your lesson, Laskey?
6 feet. I didn't skimp.
How was your night, Laskey?
Sleep good?
My name is Mikhail Lesnichy.
There are 12 of us Russians on the force.
So HR is seeding the NYPD with
cops they know will be loyal
and cementing their deal with
the Russian mob in the process.
What about that money you got from Morozov?
HR's stockpiling it.
I don't know what for, but whatever it is,
they have millions.
It gets worse than last night, you know.
What's worse than burying a friend?
Good to see you out of
the hospital, Mr. Sloan.
You're looking well.
I can't thank you guys enough,
not just for saving me
but for helping me find my brother,
even if it was for a second.
you helped us as much as we helped you.
Indeed, you've proven yourself
to be quite a fine detective,
one worthy of Raymond Chandler.
They're packing up Jason's
stuff for auction today,
so I figure I'd stop in
and take one last look around.
Maybe find a remembrance?
Already have one.
It suits you.
Good luck, Mr. Sloan.
Excuse me.
- Hello? - Tim? Tim sloan?
Jason? Where are you?
You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
Listen, I've managed to
create a secure stream,
so we can talk, but it'll only last
30 seconds or so, and...
I just wanted to tell you thanks.
Those guys I got involved with,
I thought I'd found a new
family, but I should've known.
You're my family.
Jason,
I want you to know
that I have something of yours,
and I'm gonna hold on
to it until next time.
That sounds good, Tim.
You'll always be my brother.
We're gonna have to keep an eye on him.
Collier may try again.
If Vigilance wants a revolution,
these may only be the opening shots.
Equally troubling, the machine appears
to have sent two teams into the
same battle with different goals.
Why keep us in the dark
about Root and Shaw?
Speaking of which,
have you figured out what
to do with Root yet?
There are more comfortable
chairs, if you'd rather...
Not to mention a padded bench,
which doubles as quite a comfortable bed,
albeit a small one.
And all within the proximity radius
programmed into my lovely
new ankle accessory.
I found out the hard way
what happens if I cross it.
Just making sure you have
everything you need.
There's no shortage of reading material.
That's for sure, Harold.
Keeps the mind occupied.
You know damn well who's supposed
to be occupying my mind.
I'm afraid that's out of the question.
I suppose that even if I managed to
get access to a wireless device,
the Faraday Cage you've constructed in here
would prevent me from
communicating with her.
Your powers of deduction
are as ever impeccable.
And your choice of pronoun-- illuminating.
If there's nothing else...
You're going against the machine's
wishes by keeping me here, Harold.
You're only gonna make her angry.
Can you imagine
what a being that powerful
will do when she's angry?
How can you be so certain, Ms. Groves,
that the machine does not wish you
to be precisely where you are?
The government has a secret system--
a machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.
I designed the machine
to detect acts of terror
but it sees everything--
violent crimes involving ordinary people.
The government considered
these people irrelevant.
We don't.
Hunted by the authorities,
we work in secret.
You'll never find us.
But victim or perpetrator,
if your number's up, we'll find you.
Did you miss me?
We're gonna have so much fun together.
He is digging around,
getting way too close.
Should we silence him?
We can't let him jeopardize our operation.
Put it to a vote.
I'm in, Finch. Care to tell me where?
The apartment you're in
belongs to Ms. Shaw.
I promised to respect her boundaries,
but for eight hours,
our agreed-upon means of
contact have gone unanswered.
So you tracked her down.
Ms. Shaw may be violent
and uncommunicative,
but she is never tardy.
Something is amiss, and I
need you to find out what.
So what are you up to?
My waist approximately.
Don't be so delicate, Harold.
I need you to get in there and dig.
See, people, they put business
cards in dirty clothes,
jot phone numbers on napkins.
A single relative's name is all we need.
Watch out for rats.
Rats?
As you may have guessed,
we have a new number: Timothy Sloan,
An estate investigator for the
new york public administrator.
If somebody dies without
an apparent next of kin
like the compulsive hoarder
who used to live here,
they send in Sloan to find one.
So when somebody dies,
Sloan figures out who gets their stuff.
Exactly.
I'm undercover as his new partner.
Finch, you know I don't like you
heading into danger without me.
I'm not so thrilled about my
current circumstances either,
but I need you where you are.
Speaking of which, have you found anything?
Nothing unexpected.
Raymond Chandler.
I grew up reading this stuff.
I always dreamed about
becoming a detective.
Did you try the police academy?
Turns out they're not crazy about
hiring someone who can't shoot straight.
You check the fridge yet?
For a next of kin?
You'd be surprised what pops
up behind moldy leftovers.
Nothing in here but old milk,
an enormous quantity of something
that used to be pasta,
and-- wait.
What'd I tell you?
The cooler temperatures
keep the film from fading.
Jackpot. See for yourself.
Marcia the Hoarder has a sister.
Which means we have an heir.
Good work, Harold. Our job here is done.
Mr. Reese, I have to leave now.
We found what we needed.
Unfortunately, so did I.
Taser confetti,
Ejected whenever one is fired.
I suppose it's too much to
hope she tased herself.
Knowing Shaw, it's possible.
But if I had to guess, I'd
say she's in trouble.
Sorry about that.
Which part: the tasing, the drugging,
or whatever this is?
I had to make sure you'd hear me out.
She needs our help,
and I figured you wouldn't come willingly.
She?
The machine's given me a mission,
And step one is to team up with you.
I'll pass.
Trust issues.
Besides, the machine gives missions
to Harold and the government--
relevant, irrelevant.
Why would it be talking to you?
Because now, there's a third category.
Things are evolving.
And my relationship with
the machine is a little...
different.
As for trust issues,
I'm happy to take the first step.
There's a gun for you in
the glove compartment.
Thanks, but a knife will do just fine.
This is the part where you
give me one good reason
why I should believe anything you say.
October 2, 1988.
You took a road trip with your father
to watch the Houston Oilers
play the Philadelphia Eagles.
- He bought you a sweatshirt...
- Don't talk about my father.
It told you that?
The machine trusts me,
even if you don't.
You spent years working for the machine,
and she was never wrong.
If you don't help me,
someone might destroy her,
and innocent people will die.
Forget how you feel about me.
How would you feel about that?
Okay.
I'll forget how I feel about you.
But when this is over,
you better hope I don't remember.
Good evening, Mr. Reese.
Staying out of trouble, Finch?
For the moment, although I'm not sure
our Mr. Sloan could say the same.
I hacked into his office network
to see what he's up to.
It appears our estate investigator
has taken an unorthodox interest
in a case that isn't his.
Jason Greenfield, died two weeks ago
of an apparent heroin overdose,
no next of kin.
How is Sloan's interest unorthodox?
Would going to a dead man's apartment alone
in the middle of the night qualify?
Any progress in finding Ms. Shaw?
Her building doesn't have cameras,
but the one across the street does.
And they agreed to let you see the footage?
After some convincing and a sleeper hold.
Point is I found out who took Shaw,
and you're not gonna like it.
Find them, Mr. Reese. Now.
Why the hell are you following me?
Contrary to the saying,
his bite is far worse.
Trust me. Bear, stil.
Now, perhaps you'd like to
explain why you're breaking
into Jason Greenfield's apartment
and taking his possessions,
including that watch.
I'm not a thief.
Read the back.
"To Jason Greenfield
from the Sloan family."
You knew him?
Jason was my foster brother.
I'm here 'cause I'm trying
to solve his murder.
It's me and Jason.
His parents were addicts.
They burnt the house down
cooking meth when he was 14.
My mom and dad had started fostering, so...
instant brother.
When he was 18, my parents gave him this,
you know, just-- just to remind him
that no matter what, he always had us.
I just wish he believed it.
What do you mean?
Jason always messed around with hacking.
And after moving out, he got more obsessed,
and spent more and more
time with other hackers.
Finally just fell off the map.
Two weeks ago, I'm looking at
another investigator's case files,
and I see his name.
I couldn't believe it.
I mean, he swore that he
would never start using.
Now, he dies of an O.D.?
- People do change. - Not Jason.
Not--not-- not about that.
The minute I walked in, I knew.
I mean, I've been to the homes of
a lot of heroin addicts who died.
You know what you don't see?
High-end TV.
Stereo.
Gold watch?
It all goes to getting their fix.
You think someone killed
him, then covered it up.
- Why? - I'm not sure.
But let's take a look at what isn't here.
No computer, no tablet, no phone.
What kind of hacker
doesn't have a computer?
It does seem strange.
You found nothing with any
data in it whatsoever?
I found a flash drive in the
microwave before you came in.
Looks like he fried it.
May I?
I'd like to help if I can.
Jason may have tried to destroy
the contents of the drive.
Yes, it's largely been wiped clean.
Wait.
There's a fragment of stray data.
It's a piece of an email.
What does it say?
I can only recover a few words.
"You don't understand.
If I try to leave, they'll kill me."
The question is, who are they?
And what is this?
I found it in Jason's jacket.
It's an address for...
a storage unit.
That is weird.
Our guys checked. He didn't
have a storage unit.
Yeah, sure.
That's one way to lower your cholesterol.
HR's protection payment.
Dirty money for dirty cops.
Deliver it as usual.
Then find out where it goes from there.
I can't do that.
Do you really wanna test me?
'Cause I've got a shiny new
1911 to back me up on that.
What did Morozov say to you back there?
Beats me. I don't speak Russian.
That's funny
'Cause it looked like you
understood every word.
Look.
Morozov's been running that
deli since I was a kid.
HR knows that and respects it.
These payments are about loyalty.
Let me tell you something, Laskey.
One day soon, you're gonna find out
exactly what HR expects from you
in return for that loyalty.
- You get a good look at her?
- She came outta nowhere.
Got your message, Lionel.
Looks like you found Root's car.
Yeah, and a crazy story to go with it.
Guy over there says this medical supply van
was just stolen by two
women driving that car.
One waves them down, engine trouble.
When he goes to take a look,
the other one knocks him out
with some kind of martial arts.
I hate to tell you, but Root and Shaw,
they're working as a team,
a scary one.
A thank-you would be nice.
Finch, I'm closer to Root and Shaw.
From what I'm seeing, it
looks less like an abduction
and more like a partnership.
A partnership? To what end?
No idea, but with Root
involved, anything's possible.
A troubling development, Mr. Reese,
and I'm afraid I have another one.
It seems that Mr. Sloan's
foster brother Jason
may have been murdered by
some mysterious group.
You think that same group might
be the threat against Sloan?
The only way to know for
sure would be to determine
who killed Jason and why.
Are you sure you don't
need my help on this?
No, Mr. Reese, tracking
Ms. Shaw is your top priority.
All right.
But, Finch, I'm here if you need me.
So I just got off the phone
with the manager from the storage center.
Unit 117 was rented out to
a guy named John Glover.
Now, he recognized Jason's description,
said that Jason was one
of a bunch of people
who used to visit that unit at all hours.
The day after Jason died,
those same people came back
in, cleaned the place out,
scrubbed it from top to bottom with bleach.
Did they have a photo I.D.
on file for John Glover?
No.
Glover paid a full year
in advance with cash.
- For all we know--
- Glover may not even exist.
Let's see if any other storage units
have been rented using that name.
No other rentals under John Glover,
but there in Brooklyn,
another unit paid for a full year in cash
and rented the same day they
cleared out John Glover's unit.
Who rented that one?
Samuel Miles.
Wait.
John Glover? Samuel Miles?
That's the connection-- Glover and Miles
are both generals in the
American Revolution.
Hardly seems like a coincidence.
Let's go find that storage unit.
So this mission we're on, what is it?
We'll find out soon enough.
When you see this statue again,
think impact.
The machine told you that?
I suppose I could be making it up.
And I suppose I could be kicking your ass.
Insurance.
And where are we headed to now?
Down.
Spaghetti and an oxygen tank
make a mean thermal lance.
What am I cutting?
This.
You know the last time I used a blowtorch
was to get intel from an
uncooperative source.
Now, you either tell me
what we're here to do,
or I walk.
Honestly?
Most of the time,
I'm told what to do a second
before I have to do it.
The big picture, that's hers.
The only thing I know for sure is
I need you.
Then you should get out of my way.
Wait.
Safety first.
Funny, the stuff you learn from work.
My truck's stuffed with crowbars,
key cutters, and bump hammers.
Never know what you're
gonna need for the job.
Let's see what the people who
killed my brother were doing here.
Good. This is empty too.
Why pay for a storage
unit a year in advance
and put nothing in it?
Look at the dust.
A lot of activity along this wall here.
They are storing something here.
We just need to shine a light
of a different spectrum,
the kind somebody like you
might use to detect fluids.
You have anything like that in your truck?
I do.
Okay, so you don't know what we're doing.
Can you at least tell me
what we're doing next?
Breaking and entering.
Locked door.
Phone.
What's missing?
Behind you.
Highly trained operative in a bad suit.
This is a CIA pickup site.
- Agent number? - 947-0038 alpha.
- Confirmation? - Diego 241.
Pickup tomorrow, 0800.
Have the package ready.
Okay, so what's the package?
I am.
Here you go. UV lamp.
Kill the lights.
Oh, my God.
What is this?
A message center
for people who'd want to communicate
without being overheard.
Question is...
what are they saying?
All right, that's weird.
Look at this sprinkler.
It's--they're not attached
to the same pipes
that service the other units.
Right there.
Looks like some kind of motor.
Camera. Oh, dear. We've gotta get--
We're locked in!
It's gasoline!
They're gonna burn the
place down with us in it.
Mr. Reese.
I believe I know who
tried to burn us alive.
The last time I saw code like this,
it was used by this man.
Peter Collier.
He's a member of a group
trying to send a message
about government surveillance and privacy.
And he'll kill anyone who gets in his way.
So far, Collier's the most
visible member of the group,
and your foster brother Jason Greenfield
was likely a member as well.
But Jason would never hurt anyone.
That may not have been
his role in the group.
The email I recovered
from Jason's flash drive
contained an identifier string
that I was able to match to a
conversation on the Darknet,
an exchange between hackers,
One of whom was being lauded for exploits
that were nothing short of astonishing.
The hacker goes by the name of Atlas7,
but their real identity seems clear.
- My brother. - Indeed.
The targets he chose are all government,
military, data-collecting corporations.
Perhaps that's what put
him on Collier's radar.
So they teamed up,
and at some point,
Greenfield tried to get out.
And they killed him.
They may be coming after you now.
- Me? - These people value privacy.
Secrecy above all else, Mr. Sloan.
- By uncovering them--
- You kicked the hornet's nest.
The best way to protect you from Collier
is to find out what he's up to
and get out ahead of it.
The messages in the storage units
appear to have been encrypted
with a running key cipher.
We find the key, we break the code.
- So what's the key?
- A long string of text.
A letter, a book.
Jason would've had that key too.
So it must be in his apartment.
I'll go check it out.
And I'll go somewhere where I
can do more in-depth research.
I'm coming with you.
You should stay here.
You're looking for the
key to this code, right?
There's something I do
better than anybody else,
and that's finding things
that people keep hidden.
Please.
Let me do it for Jason.
Come on.
CIA is here to pick us up.
Any last words?
24381
24381.
Whatever.
PIN?
24381
24381.
Good to meet you, Agent Dearborn.
She been sanitized?
Looks like you got a fun one.
You don't know the half of it.
Laskey, it's Simmons.
Go see your pal Morozov. I
think he needs your help.
Who are you? Where's Morozov?
Exactly what I called
you here to talk about.
When's the last time you counted
the money you got from Morozov?
You think he's been skimming?
Boss, I've known Morozov my entire life.
- He values HR. - Laskey.
You're a rookie,
so I'm gonna let you off
with a lesson this time.
You need to learn
the difference between knowing
someone and trusting them.
See, this kid I can trust.
Because he values HR? No.
It's because he's scared of us.
You got it?
Yeah. Thanks for the lesson, boss.
That ain't the lesson.
Old man Morozov made the mistake of
pulling a gun when I
called him out as a thief.
There's a shovel in the backseat.
6 feet, kid.
Don't skimp.
Cells one through three secure, Sir.
Hope the voice in your head
knows what it's doing.
That's gotta go.
Sundown, Ottawa, left, right, left, right,
one, two, three.
You say the sweetest things.
Agent Dearborn?
Nick Breckenridge. Chief interrogator.
Little late to be checking in a new asset.
We're prepping all prisoners for transport.
Transport? We just got here.
You know the drill, Dearborn.
We move these guys every 72 hours.
You get to interrogate indefinitely.
Now, I need some info.
Encrypted radios always acting up.
- Name of operation? - Sundown.
- Asset's place of origin? - Ottawa.
Transport authentication number?
Should have gotten it from the
operative guarding the pickup site.
Stress was high on this one.
Must have forgot.
You NOC types think you
can just come in here
and ignore all kinds of
protocol, don't you?
No authentication number, no access.
- Does anybody know how to-- - Left, right.
Left, right, one, two, three.
We use them all the time at the farm.
Give that to the intake
guard at the next site.
And next time, remember your
damn authentication number.
Still searching Greenfield's
apartment, Finch.
Keep looking, Mr. Reese.
None of the books you've
found so far match the code.
- The kitchen's clean.
- No luck here either.
All right, it's gotta be somewhere.
Scavenger hunt.
What?
It's a game that Jason and I
used to play when we were bored.
We would steal something from each other.
Then we'd hide it in the house,
except Jason would always lose
because he always chose the same place.
The heating vent.
Care to brush up on your history, Finch?
The American Revolution
- a concise history.
Why am I not surprised? Let me see.
I've located a copy online.
It seems to match the algorithm
the code is based on.
- I'll start deciphering. - Great.
Sloan and I will--
Where's Sloan?
Grab him!
Hurry, we're on the clock here.
Get out of here!
Mr. Reese?
Mr. Reese?
Mr. Reese, are you all right?
Let's go.
Shots fired.
He's with the guy in the suit.
Mr. Reese.
Collier.
Mr. Reese, are you all right?
You're right, Finch.
It's Collier. Sloan's gone.
And we have no way to track him.
I'm afraid it gets worse.
I've deciphered enough of the
code to learn its purpose.
It's a plan to kill Jason
Greenfield tonight.
Greenfield?
Isn't he already dead?
You can't keep moving me like this.
I'm an American! I have rights.
Do you even know my name?
Jason Greenfield, I presume?
How do you know my name?
I know a lot about you, Jason.
I know you hacked government sites
for a fringe group of activists,
Got squeamish when the
group turned violent,
cut a deal with the Feds in
exchange for a new life,
and got screwed over by
them and stuck in here.
Who the hell are you?
Answer me.
We're on a bit of a clock here,
so let's dispense with the temper tantrum.
To answer your question, I'm like you.
FBI Trojan Horse of 2009, the null worm.
What, that was you?
That thing infected over
7 million computers
worldwide in less than a week.
If you designed the worm,
then you must be able to tell me how--
A self-executing attachment rewrites the OS
to infect nearby bluetooth
devices and spread wirelessly.
That was a long time ago.
I'm more interested in you, Jason.
Jason doesn't exist anymore.
Those CIA liars faked my death.
It was supposed to be for my protection.
In return, I give them
everything about the group.
Instead, they brought me
to this mobile black site.
And now, they can question me forever.
Must have gotten bad for you to reach
out to people you don't trust.
The group murdered someone...
A data broker.
And it's my fault.
I'm the one who told Vigilance
about him in the first place.
- Vigilance? - That's their name.
"Eternal vigilance is
the price of liberty."
I said we should scare the bastard,
but Collier convinced the group
that it was time for more...
aggressive action.
I'm not a killer.
Transport's here.
Prepare to move out.
So you never told me why you're here.
Simple, Jason.
I'm here for you.
I'll be right along.
I'm not letting this one out of my sight.
So Sloan's dead brother is really alive?
Yes, it seems Jason Greenfield
turned himself in to the CIA.
And now, Collier wants to
kill him for being a traitor.
Precisely.
According to the plan, the
assassination of Mr. Greenfield
is scheduled to take place within the hour.
They're probably going to interrogate
Sloan on the way to their mission.
So if we can find where they're
going to kill Greenfield,
then we still have a
chance to save them both.
Just give me a location, Finch.
Got it. An intersection downtown.
I'm sending you the coordinates.
I'm on my way.
So you're his brother.
Jason said he had no family.
What made you choose to look into him now?
None of your business.
You know what?
That is right.
We members of Vigilance value privacy,
even if the government doesn't.
However, when you started
digging into Jason's life,
you also dug into ours,
our methods, our plans,
which brings me to some rather bad news.
We took a vote
as to whether we could
possibly let you live,
and I'm afraid it didn't go your way.
My options at this point are limited,
but what I can offer you is
a quick exchange of words
followed by an even quicker death.
I need to know exactly how
much you know about our group
and who you've told.
Let's start with those two
men I've seen you with.
Who are they? Feds? NSA?
I don't know, okay?
I don't know why they're helping me.
I don't know why they care.
All I know is Jason made a mistake
falling in with you guys.
And when he realized it
and he tried to get out,
you killed him for it.
Seems you've gotten ahead
of things, Mr. Sloan.
Jason Greenfield is very much alive.
You didn't kill him?
No.
But we are about to.
And you're gonna have a front-row seat.
We're here.
Things are about to get a bit hectic.
We'll have to continue
this conversation later.
Until then, Mr. Sloan.
Finch, I'm at the intersection.
And there is Collier's van.
Be careful, Mr. Reese.
What are you doing?
In ten seconds,
Brace yourself.
For what?
Impact.
- Shaw? - Now.
Mr. Reese, what's happening?
Go, go! move!
I just found Shaw.
Unfortunately, so did Collier.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}One, two, three, four, five
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Break down, baby
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Listen
to this, just listen to this
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
So good to hear your voice.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
Time to go, Jason.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}The
number song, but before I start
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Let's have the countdown
Jason?
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}Just
listen to this, just listen to this
- Shaw. - Reese.
Gotta save somebody.
Know the feeling.
I saw somebody out there.
Tim Sloan. Do you know why he's here?
Is he okay?
Did you see a man heading his way?
Tall, nice suit?
Yeah.
He'll be fine.
Your new identity
and the pass code to a bank
account with $2.5 million.
Go to Cartagena, find a bar
called Sol Azul in Boca Grande.
- Ask for Ruiz. - Who's he?
I have no idea.
Now go.
Why-- why are you helping me?
I'm just following orders,
but my guess is you're necessary.
{\fnDroid Sans Fallback}One, two, three, four, five
There she is.
I guess a software omniscience
isn't much help if you're out of bullets.
All right, bitch. Where's Greenfield?
Why are you smiling at us?
I'm not smiling at you.
I knew you'd come back for me.
Mission accomplished?
Absolutely.
Good.
That's far enough,
assuming you'd like Mr. Sloan
to survive this encounter.
Peter Collier.
You seem to know my name,
one of 'em,
But I can't say the same about you.
I'm the guy you shot in the back,
and I'm here to return the favor.
Before you do,
perhaps you'd like to tell me how it is
you manage to keep showing
up at Vigilance operations.
I'm persistent.
And energy and persistence
conquer all things.
Benjamin Franklin.
You guys got a thing for the
American revolution, don't you?
That's true.
In fact, it may soon be
time for another one.
Forget it, collier. It's over.
But only for one of us.
You can take me,
or you can save Sloan.
Finch, Collier shot Sloan
in the femoral artery.
We need help.
There's an ambulance on the way, Mr. Reese.
Hang in there. You're gonna be all right.
You learn your lesson, Laskey?
6 feet. I didn't skimp.
How was your night, Laskey?
Sleep good?
My name is Mikhail Lesnichy.
There are 12 of us Russians on the force.
So HR is seeding the NYPD with
cops they know will be loyal
and cementing their deal with
the Russian mob in the process.
What about that money you got from Morozov?
HR's stockpiling it.
I don't know what for, but whatever it is,
they have millions.
It gets worse than last night, you know.
What's worse than burying a friend?
Good to see you out of
the hospital, Mr. Sloan.
You're looking well.
I can't thank you guys enough,
not just for saving me
but for helping me find my brother,
even if it was for a second.
you helped us as much as we helped you.
Indeed, you've proven yourself
to be quite a fine detective,
one worthy of Raymond Chandler.
They're packing up Jason's
stuff for auction today,
so I figure I'd stop in
and take one last look around.
Maybe find a remembrance?
Already have one.
It suits you.
Good luck, Mr. Sloan.
Excuse me.
- Hello? - Tim? Tim sloan?
Jason? Where are you?
You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
Listen, I've managed to
create a secure stream,
so we can talk, but it'll only last
30 seconds or so, and...
I just wanted to tell you thanks.
Those guys I got involved with,
I thought I'd found a new
family, but I should've known.
You're my family.
Jason,
I want you to know
that I have something of yours,
and I'm gonna hold on
to it until next time.
That sounds good, Tim.
You'll always be my brother.
We're gonna have to keep an eye on him.
Collier may try again.
If Vigilance wants a revolution,
these may only be the opening shots.
Equally troubling, the machine appears
to have sent two teams into the
same battle with different goals.
Why keep us in the dark
about Root and Shaw?
Speaking of which,
have you figured out what
to do with Root yet?
There are more comfortable
chairs, if you'd rather...
Not to mention a padded bench,
which doubles as quite a comfortable bed,
albeit a small one.
And all within the proximity radius
programmed into my lovely
new ankle accessory.
I found out the hard way
what happens if I cross it.
Just making sure you have
everything you need.
There's no shortage of reading material.
That's for sure, Harold.
Keeps the mind occupied.
You know damn well who's supposed
to be occupying my mind.
I'm afraid that's out of the question.
I suppose that even if I managed to
get access to a wireless device,
the Faraday Cage you've constructed in here
would prevent me from
communicating with her.
Your powers of deduction
are as ever impeccable.
And your choice of pronoun-- illuminating.
If there's nothing else...
You're going against the machine's
wishes by keeping me here, Harold.
You're only gonna make her angry.
Can you imagine
what a being that powerful
will do when she's angry?
How can you be so certain, Ms. Groves,
that the machine does not wish you
to be precisely where you are?