The Strain (2014–2017): Season 3, Episode 8 - White Light - full transcript
The Master's voice proves to be more powerful and potentially fatal than Eph or Dutch anticipated. Fet and Setrakian track down the cargo from the Egyptian vessel and realize they may be in...
Previously on The Strain...
I know you're hungry. Okay? Here.
It's my mom, Angel.
_
I can't do it. She's in there, OK?
Angel! Get up!
- Put the gun down!
- Ugh!
Come on, Angel, let's go. You all right?
This is a sampling of
all strigoi communication
occupying a fairly
predictable range. Until here.
A direct signal from
the Master. If we can
set it out from the rest
of the strigoi static,
then we can use this
technique to track him down.
We need a point of reference.
- JFK Airport.
- The black box.
It might still have his voice on there.
- I've found out something else.
- You're bluffing.
A vessel owned by Stoneheart.
Its contents were kept from me.
But clearly, it is
of immense importance.
Whatever was on that ship,
whatever evil it contained
will lead directly back to the Master.
If I give you this, you
will help us track it down?
Give me the white.
We've been working all week
to shave time off this process.
I think you're going to be very pleased.
Shut it off!
What is this?
This? This is...
This is what we've been using to
test the system's capabilities.
This dummy is exactly
175 pounds, the weight of an average
- American human.
- It's helped us get the whole
process down to just 84 seconds.
Are you saying that, in
your opinion, there is
no notable difference between
a person and a bag of sand?
Uhhh...
For our purposes? No,
there's no particular difference, sir.
ARGH! Ugh!
- You see the difference now?
- Argh!
Can a bag of sand
struggle, putting added
stress on the system?
- Ugh!
- No, sir, it can't.
Now turn it on again,
and start the timer.
The... the incinerator is not
- quite up and running yet.
- I trust it will be
soon enough. We don't
want these things piling up
- now, do we?
- No, of course.
Of course, um, sir.
It'll be up running.
- Very soon.
- And the time?
It's 2... 2 minutes 17.
53 seconds longer than reported.
You were right. We'll
be making adjustments.
Very good.
And in the meantime, you and I have
other important business to attend to.
Watch out! Watch out!
- Excuse me.
- _
Excuse me. Excuse me!
Excuse me! Watch out!
Let us through! You're
not gonna die, alright?
Watch out, watch out, watch out,
watch out, watch out, watch out!
Who do you think you are?!
- Just right there.
- Come on.
- Please fill this out.
- Come on, we're almost there.
Hi, there. Welcome
to the Freedom Center.
- Is this a medical emergency?
- You tell me.
Oh, yes, I see.
Let's get you checked in to be treated.
We can start the ID card
process out here, so please
fill in all the forms,
then head on over to the
photo and fingerprint line.
I'm not the one being treated
so I don't gotta fill this out.
We strongly recommend
that everyone register.
- That way...
- I'm good, alright?
I'm A-OK. I feel great, alright?
Maybe you'd like to donate
blood to your father?
This isn't my father.
My father was a coward.
This is my guardian angel.
Got a bad knee, now he has a bad arm,
but he's got a good heart.
Now, why does he have to give
his fingerprints to get treated?
I'm sorry, I don't make the rules.
Please complete the forms
and then bring the clipboard
back to the desk.
And I'll need my pen back. Ah...
- Gracias.
- Welcome.
- The Palmer Foundation...
- Sit down.
If you require medical
attention, please have...
You sure you wanna fill this out?
This is bullshit. It's
worse than Harlem Hospital ER
on a Saturday night.
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If our fingerprints get
caught up in the system,
we're gonna go back to the
chain gang, you know that, right?
What system?
_
Then why do they want
you to fill this out?
Huh?
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Yeah, I can't do this.
This place gives me the heebie-jeebies.
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No, you come meet me. All right?
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There's a line there. There's a line!
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It's my home.
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That's my mom.
Alright? That's my mom.
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Monita.
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He's late.
Speak of the devil.
What a difference a day makes, huh?
Feeling better, Eldritch?
Ah, it's incredible.
My best biochemists failed to
crack the secrets of the white,
and yet, somehow, you found a way.
What have you found out
about the shipment from Egypt?
Cyrus Minow is the man
who ordered me off my own
ship. That's his address.
The ungrateful son of a
bitch is living in my housing
under the protection of my own
security personnel. There's a key card
and Stoneheart IDs
inside giving you access.
You know,
we could pay him a visit right now.
We're not going anywhere
with you. We work alone.
- Now, you listen to me...
- Mr. Fet's right.
You'll only draw attention.
In the meantime, make yourself useful
and get us some more information.
I fully intend to.
But I'd appreciate a
little more respect.
The worm has turned, Eldritch.
If you want more white,
you've got to earn that respect.
It could be a trap.
- Palmer has everything to lose
- _
by betraying us. I don't trust
the man, but I trust
his self-preservation.
Fair enough.
What we need to find out is
if any of the Old World Ancients
have come over here to join
the Master in the fight.
Would the New World Ancients
know what their brothers
are up to?
I'd prefer not to go back there.
Their information is critical.
You're the only one
who can speak with them.
I'll investigate.
Good. In the meantime,
Mr. Fet, let's go meet this...
Cyrus Minow.
_
Foxtrot Alpha. Right on Foxtrot.
- Hold short Four a left.
- After-landing checklist.
So what happened with the
lady at the laundromat?
Told her I was a pilot, and
the look on this woman's face...
I may as well have been
a school bus driver.
- Haha!
- Regis 753, Foxtrot short at Four left.
753. Cross Four left.
Follow the Oceanic 737 to the ramp.
753, crossing Four left, Oceanic inside.
Turning left at Foxtrot.
You just gotta remember, most women,
they've never been to Berlin or Tokyo.
You just gotta play up your, you know,
jet-setting, James-Bond kind of thing.
I don't think James Bond ever
sat in a crappy-ass hotel room
watching CSI all night.
CSI...
Well, I guess that's it.
Wait. Hold on.
Look at that.
The Master's signal must
have been powerful enough
to interfere with the flight
systems. It might have even been
what shut down the whole...
- Ugh!
- Dutch!
- Ah!
- You OK?
- Aaah!
- Dutch!
- Are you OK?
- Aaaah!
How do you turn this off? Dutch!
Dutch!
Dutch, wake up! Come on, wake up!
Wake up, Dutch! Open your eyes!
Come on!
Dutch?
There you go. That's
it. You're all right.
What's going on?
- For a second there, I thought...
- But I'm fine.
Looks like you're still feeling it, huh?
- No, just a little woozy.
- I think maybe you should
- lie down for a sec...
- I'm fine.
I think we should carry on working.
We really don't have
to do this right now.
That was
probably the Master's
signal, right? The...
same thing that incapacitated
those people on the plane.
Well, a very limited version of it
'cause we were only playing
back the audio component.
So, if we'd heard the
Master's full-spectrum signal,
we'd probably be paralyzed by now.
Exactly. So it's a good thing this
stereo doesn't play back microwaves.
Though, come to think
of it, there's no way
that this black box could
record microwaves so...
That's not necessarily true.
It has a shitload of data
about the plane's electronic
systems. There could be
a good amount of microwave
data embedded in there.
Are you saying we may
have a full recording of
- the Master's paralyzing signal?
- Hmm. It's possible, yeah.
Well, we could use that.
Uh, disrupt their communications.
Maybe redirect it
- and use it...
- Ugh!
Yeah, maybe I will
go and lie down.
I'll clean that up.
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Five blocks outside the safety zone;
this is all they got for security.
I imagine their security
is actually provided by Mr. Eichhorst.
OK, sure. Bye.
- Cyrus Minow?
- Yeah?
You pissed off some people that
you shouldn't have pissed off.
What was in the shipping
container on the Aurora Cutlass?
I have no idea! Argh!
Well, guess this guy is, uh,
completely worthless to us, isn't he?
Go ahead.
No, wait-wait-wait-wait-wait!
All I know, it was a large wooden crate.
My job was to get it to a guy
named Sanjay Desai.
He's the one you should ask.
- He's not the one we've got.
- I can take you to where I left it!
Maybe it's still there. Please!
Get your coat.
Go on.
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Mama?
Mom?
Mama, are you here?
Mom?
Gus.
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It's fine, Mom.
Gus.
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- Your mother loves you, right?
- Mm-hmm.
She does everything for you?
Right now, she needs you to
grow up a little bit faster.
You're the man in this house now.
Your father's gone away.
It's best for everyone.
When is he coming back?
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Jorge!
Your uncle Jorge and I will
be coming around more often.
But your mother needs you now.
It's time to step up.
A good man takes care of his family.
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OK?
When you last stormed
out of this chamber,
you vowed never to return.
Much has changed.
I have a question.
And perhaps a warning.
We are listening.
A few days ago,
the Master arranged for a
piece of cargo from Egypt
to arrive here in New York via ship.
Now, the Lumen recounts
an incident some 3000 years ago
in which an army of Egyptians managed
to seal one of your
kind in a sarcophagus.
Is it possible that the cargo
that the Master has brought
here is that very same Ancient?
There is a possibility.
They were most eloquent.
So,
perhaps the Master
has formed an alliance
with one of your kind. Do you understand
what it means that he's not
sought the same arrangement
with you?
It means he intends to do away with you.
Fortunately, the pawnbroker
has devised a plan, gleaned
from the pages of the Lumen.
One does not necessarily need
to slay the Master to defeat him.
We do not trust the pawnbroker.
Then I wish you a speedy death.
Wait!
- What is your proposal?
- I'm afraid it requires you
to get down off those pedestals
for something other than
a captive human meal.
We are ready to listen.
I'll return this evening
with instructions.
Lucky for you,
my current associates
are amenable to dealing
with undesirable partners.
Knock, knock!
Some soup for you.
- Hmm!
- And, uh, looking through
Fet's personal items...
which I recommend no one do...
I found a thermometer.
Thank you. Hm.
I washed it.
I don't have a fever.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
- How are you?
- I'm OK.
I have a violent headache but,
obviously, it hit you harder.
Hm, it's probably an age thing.
Excuse me?
Well, it's a well-known fact
that older people lose
their sensitivity to sound.
"Older people"? You're not
- that much younger than me, OK?
- Really?
Would you like to discuss
the state of technology
when you were at college?
Using UNIX, were you?
Stone tablets, nerd.
Well,
I am sorry for the hold-up. Back on it.
Hey.
If you go down, I don't have
any chance of getting Zack back.
So the first order of business
is getting some nutritious food in you
and a good night's sleep.
And I can't do any of this without you.
I'll let you eat in peace.
Gus?
Hey, Gus!
Mama's boy.
_
Ha! Last time we were here,
I hit this place with a
dozen sticks of dynamite.
- You'd never know it.
- Well, that would explain
- the delay in construction.
- Where is the crate?
I left it at the loading dock.
The loading dock's on the
other side of the building.
And so is security. This way is
less public.
Keep smiling.
You're still alive,
aren't you? Lead the way.
What's wrong?
No! No, no. Not this way. Here!
My God.
What the hell is this place?
A blood factory.
Is this how you pay
for your big-screen TV?
I swear I have never seen this place
before. I did not know what they were...
What do you want me to do, hm?
Do you want me to die? Do
you want me to get turned?
They've won.
- I was just doing my job.
- As said by countless
facilitators of
genocide throughout time.
Do not
speak again if you wish to remain alive.
Take us to the loading dock.
I don't want to leave
this place standing.
Agreed, but we have more
pressing work at the moment.
Where's the crate?
- It's here.
- You need to slow down.
We cannot let it escape!
Cover me!
Ugh! Argh!
- Get in the truck!
- Yes, sir!
Get us the hell out of here!
Professor, go, go!
Do you want me to go back
there? Finish them off?
Your guards will hold them off.
This cargo is far too
precious to risk any delay.
Gus?
Gus?
Mom!
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Cheevo!
Hey.
Life looks good on you, man.
You know. Lifting
weights, knocking boys out
- in jail kept me healthy.
- Hahaha! I hear you.
- Having a regular?
- Yeah.
What you been up to these
days? You still doing
- that airport shuttle?
- Yeah.
Feels like I'm running in place though,
- you know?
- I hear that, man.
Hey, Cheevo.
I was looking for some
work on the side, you know.
Nothing too serious though, just,
just trying to get by. Promised
my mom I'd stay out of trouble.
You know what?
This white dude came in
yesterday; looked like
he had cash. Said he needed
someone to do some shit
around the airport.
Right here. "Thomas Eichhorst."
I promised I would take care of her.
She did so much for us.
She sacrificed everything.
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Nah, man. I failed.
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I don't want to see you
get hurt, that's all.
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It's all good.
I'm gonna burn in hell anyway, right?
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Every decision I made
killed her.
I did all this shit.
We gotta get the hell out of here,
for good.
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I don't know.
Somewhere far away from this city...
before it drops on us.
- What are you doing up?
- Don't know.
Just thinking about how
many times I've almost died
- in the last few weeks.
- Oh.
I feel much better now.
- Good enough for one of these?
- Always.
Thank you for taking care of me.
It was really quite sweet.
It's nice to see your
nurturing, feminine side.
Oh, I figured you'd like that.
For a moment there, I really
got lost in an old fantasy
of mine about a very butch,
very bald female nurse.
But not quite the lesbian
nurse-and-patient scenario
you're used to thinking about?
I don't know what you're talking about.
- Yeah, you're full of shit.
- No, seriously, I worked
with a lot of nurses.
It's a busman's holiday
for me. Trust me.
OK, right.
So, say there was
this really beautiful
young nurse; topless or lingerie?
- Topless.
- OK, topless
with these... divine,
big, beautiful breasts,
and she came to look after me.
And we just start kissing.
Like,
tongues everywhere kissing.
That wouldn't do anything for you?
Meh!
All right. So,
she starts straddling me,
and my hands are just
all over her. And then suddenly,
we just stop and look at you.
Yeah, you.
And then we start
- crawling toward you.
- Crawling?
Mm-hmm. And then we're
on either side of you,
and she starts
unbuttoning your shirt...
while I undo your trousers.
And as we're doing that,
she and I lean in together,
right over you,
start kissing
and touching.
And then slowly,
our heads start moving down, down...
Whoa-whoa! What is this, torture porn?
- It's your fantasy.
- Fantasies are nice,
but I'm not really
into the choreography.
Just one man and one woman.
It's probably a little vanilla for you.
That's not what I'm thinking.
Please report.
Our legion is spread out
in the grid you suggested.
We are on the highest alert. You believe
the Ancients are located nearby?
I do.
The sun-hunters are clever and elusive,
but we've seen them
surface near there before,
only to lose them each time.
The Ancients need
sustenance, yet cannot
forage for themselves.
- No! No, no wait!
- So when the hunters
go out and search for food, we
must track them back to their lair,
but without being seen.
We will find them tonight.
What's wrong? Didn't Minow
lead you to the cargo?
He did better than that.
He led us right to the facility
where they were keeping it.
On East Tremont Avenue in
the Bronx. That ring a bell?
You knew its purpose.
- Of course.
- A slaughterhouse
for harvesting human beings.
How many of these blood farms are there?
In North America?
Under construction?
Perhaps 100.
I ought to cut you down where you stand.
These facilities mean
nothing if we succeed
in stopping the Master.
You said they are holding the cargo
- at the Tremont facility?
- They were.
They got away before we could get to it.
Loaded on a truck with your buddy
Eichhorst riding shotgun.
Where did they take it?
- That's for you to find out.
- Yes. Yes, I can do that.
And you still have no
idea what was inside?
Whatever it is can't be much worse
than the monster standing before me.
So,
are you finally ready to act
- to save yourselves?
- We are.
What is the meaning of this?!
You traitor! You did this!
No. This is not my
doing. Nor is it my fight.
You've invited your own demise.
The Born.
What an unexpected pleasure!
Fitting that you should be here
and bear witness.
And you. I knew the
humans would be complacent,
but I never anticipated how impotent
you three would be.
You should have been
masters of this world!
Kings, emperors,
gods!
Instead, you are already
so like statues to a fallen race.
This step I take
is more merciful than triumphant.
I know you're hungry. Okay? Here.
It's my mom, Angel.
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I can't do it. She's in there, OK?
Angel! Get up!
- Put the gun down!
- Ugh!
Come on, Angel, let's go. You all right?
This is a sampling of
all strigoi communication
occupying a fairly
predictable range. Until here.
A direct signal from
the Master. If we can
set it out from the rest
of the strigoi static,
then we can use this
technique to track him down.
We need a point of reference.
- JFK Airport.
- The black box.
It might still have his voice on there.
- I've found out something else.
- You're bluffing.
A vessel owned by Stoneheart.
Its contents were kept from me.
But clearly, it is
of immense importance.
Whatever was on that ship,
whatever evil it contained
will lead directly back to the Master.
If I give you this, you
will help us track it down?
Give me the white.
We've been working all week
to shave time off this process.
I think you're going to be very pleased.
Shut it off!
What is this?
This? This is...
This is what we've been using to
test the system's capabilities.
This dummy is exactly
175 pounds, the weight of an average
- American human.
- It's helped us get the whole
process down to just 84 seconds.
Are you saying that, in
your opinion, there is
no notable difference between
a person and a bag of sand?
Uhhh...
For our purposes? No,
there's no particular difference, sir.
ARGH! Ugh!
- You see the difference now?
- Argh!
Can a bag of sand
struggle, putting added
stress on the system?
- Ugh!
- No, sir, it can't.
Now turn it on again,
and start the timer.
The... the incinerator is not
- quite up and running yet.
- I trust it will be
soon enough. We don't
want these things piling up
- now, do we?
- No, of course.
Of course, um, sir.
It'll be up running.
- Very soon.
- And the time?
It's 2... 2 minutes 17.
53 seconds longer than reported.
You were right. We'll
be making adjustments.
Very good.
And in the meantime, you and I have
other important business to attend to.
Watch out! Watch out!
- Excuse me.
- _
Excuse me. Excuse me!
Excuse me! Watch out!
Let us through! You're
not gonna die, alright?
Watch out, watch out, watch out,
watch out, watch out, watch out!
Who do you think you are?!
- Just right there.
- Come on.
- Please fill this out.
- Come on, we're almost there.
Hi, there. Welcome
to the Freedom Center.
- Is this a medical emergency?
- You tell me.
Oh, yes, I see.
Let's get you checked in to be treated.
We can start the ID card
process out here, so please
fill in all the forms,
then head on over to the
photo and fingerprint line.
I'm not the one being treated
so I don't gotta fill this out.
We strongly recommend
that everyone register.
- That way...
- I'm good, alright?
I'm A-OK. I feel great, alright?
Maybe you'd like to donate
blood to your father?
This isn't my father.
My father was a coward.
This is my guardian angel.
Got a bad knee, now he has a bad arm,
but he's got a good heart.
Now, why does he have to give
his fingerprints to get treated?
I'm sorry, I don't make the rules.
Please complete the forms
and then bring the clipboard
back to the desk.
And I'll need my pen back. Ah...
- Gracias.
- Welcome.
- The Palmer Foundation...
- Sit down.
If you require medical
attention, please have...
You sure you wanna fill this out?
This is bullshit. It's
worse than Harlem Hospital ER
on a Saturday night.
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If our fingerprints get
caught up in the system,
we're gonna go back to the
chain gang, you know that, right?
What system?
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Then why do they want
you to fill this out?
Huh?
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Yeah, I can't do this.
This place gives me the heebie-jeebies.
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No, you come meet me. All right?
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There's a line there. There's a line!
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It's my home.
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That's my mom.
Alright? That's my mom.
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Monita.
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He's late.
Speak of the devil.
What a difference a day makes, huh?
Feeling better, Eldritch?
Ah, it's incredible.
My best biochemists failed to
crack the secrets of the white,
and yet, somehow, you found a way.
What have you found out
about the shipment from Egypt?
Cyrus Minow is the man
who ordered me off my own
ship. That's his address.
The ungrateful son of a
bitch is living in my housing
under the protection of my own
security personnel. There's a key card
and Stoneheart IDs
inside giving you access.
You know,
we could pay him a visit right now.
We're not going anywhere
with you. We work alone.
- Now, you listen to me...
- Mr. Fet's right.
You'll only draw attention.
In the meantime, make yourself useful
and get us some more information.
I fully intend to.
But I'd appreciate a
little more respect.
The worm has turned, Eldritch.
If you want more white,
you've got to earn that respect.
It could be a trap.
- Palmer has everything to lose
- _
by betraying us. I don't trust
the man, but I trust
his self-preservation.
Fair enough.
What we need to find out is
if any of the Old World Ancients
have come over here to join
the Master in the fight.
Would the New World Ancients
know what their brothers
are up to?
I'd prefer not to go back there.
Their information is critical.
You're the only one
who can speak with them.
I'll investigate.
Good. In the meantime,
Mr. Fet, let's go meet this...
Cyrus Minow.
_
Foxtrot Alpha. Right on Foxtrot.
- Hold short Four a left.
- After-landing checklist.
So what happened with the
lady at the laundromat?
Told her I was a pilot, and
the look on this woman's face...
I may as well have been
a school bus driver.
- Haha!
- Regis 753, Foxtrot short at Four left.
753. Cross Four left.
Follow the Oceanic 737 to the ramp.
753, crossing Four left, Oceanic inside.
Turning left at Foxtrot.
You just gotta remember, most women,
they've never been to Berlin or Tokyo.
You just gotta play up your, you know,
jet-setting, James-Bond kind of thing.
I don't think James Bond ever
sat in a crappy-ass hotel room
watching CSI all night.
CSI...
Well, I guess that's it.
Wait. Hold on.
Look at that.
The Master's signal must
have been powerful enough
to interfere with the flight
systems. It might have even been
what shut down the whole...
- Ugh!
- Dutch!
- Ah!
- You OK?
- Aaah!
- Dutch!
- Are you OK?
- Aaaah!
How do you turn this off? Dutch!
Dutch!
Dutch, wake up! Come on, wake up!
Wake up, Dutch! Open your eyes!
Come on!
Dutch?
There you go. That's
it. You're all right.
What's going on?
- For a second there, I thought...
- But I'm fine.
Looks like you're still feeling it, huh?
- No, just a little woozy.
- I think maybe you should
- lie down for a sec...
- I'm fine.
I think we should carry on working.
We really don't have
to do this right now.
That was
probably the Master's
signal, right? The...
same thing that incapacitated
those people on the plane.
Well, a very limited version of it
'cause we were only playing
back the audio component.
So, if we'd heard the
Master's full-spectrum signal,
we'd probably be paralyzed by now.
Exactly. So it's a good thing this
stereo doesn't play back microwaves.
Though, come to think
of it, there's no way
that this black box could
record microwaves so...
That's not necessarily true.
It has a shitload of data
about the plane's electronic
systems. There could be
a good amount of microwave
data embedded in there.
Are you saying we may
have a full recording of
- the Master's paralyzing signal?
- Hmm. It's possible, yeah.
Well, we could use that.
Uh, disrupt their communications.
Maybe redirect it
- and use it...
- Ugh!
Yeah, maybe I will
go and lie down.
I'll clean that up.
_
Five blocks outside the safety zone;
this is all they got for security.
I imagine their security
is actually provided by Mr. Eichhorst.
OK, sure. Bye.
- Cyrus Minow?
- Yeah?
You pissed off some people that
you shouldn't have pissed off.
What was in the shipping
container on the Aurora Cutlass?
I have no idea! Argh!
Well, guess this guy is, uh,
completely worthless to us, isn't he?
Go ahead.
No, wait-wait-wait-wait-wait!
All I know, it was a large wooden crate.
My job was to get it to a guy
named Sanjay Desai.
He's the one you should ask.
- He's not the one we've got.
- I can take you to where I left it!
Maybe it's still there. Please!
Get your coat.
Go on.
_
Mama?
Mom?
Mama, are you here?
Mom?
Gus.
_
It's fine, Mom.
Gus.
_
- Your mother loves you, right?
- Mm-hmm.
She does everything for you?
Right now, she needs you to
grow up a little bit faster.
You're the man in this house now.
Your father's gone away.
It's best for everyone.
When is he coming back?
_
Jorge!
Your uncle Jorge and I will
be coming around more often.
But your mother needs you now.
It's time to step up.
A good man takes care of his family.
_
_
_
_
_
_
OK?
When you last stormed
out of this chamber,
you vowed never to return.
Much has changed.
I have a question.
And perhaps a warning.
We are listening.
A few days ago,
the Master arranged for a
piece of cargo from Egypt
to arrive here in New York via ship.
Now, the Lumen recounts
an incident some 3000 years ago
in which an army of Egyptians managed
to seal one of your
kind in a sarcophagus.
Is it possible that the cargo
that the Master has brought
here is that very same Ancient?
There is a possibility.
They were most eloquent.
So,
perhaps the Master
has formed an alliance
with one of your kind. Do you understand
what it means that he's not
sought the same arrangement
with you?
It means he intends to do away with you.
Fortunately, the pawnbroker
has devised a plan, gleaned
from the pages of the Lumen.
One does not necessarily need
to slay the Master to defeat him.
We do not trust the pawnbroker.
Then I wish you a speedy death.
Wait!
- What is your proposal?
- I'm afraid it requires you
to get down off those pedestals
for something other than
a captive human meal.
We are ready to listen.
I'll return this evening
with instructions.
Lucky for you,
my current associates
are amenable to dealing
with undesirable partners.
Knock, knock!
Some soup for you.
- Hmm!
- And, uh, looking through
Fet's personal items...
which I recommend no one do...
I found a thermometer.
Thank you. Hm.
I washed it.
I don't have a fever.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
- How are you?
- I'm OK.
I have a violent headache but,
obviously, it hit you harder.
Hm, it's probably an age thing.
Excuse me?
Well, it's a well-known fact
that older people lose
their sensitivity to sound.
"Older people"? You're not
- that much younger than me, OK?
- Really?
Would you like to discuss
the state of technology
when you were at college?
Using UNIX, were you?
Stone tablets, nerd.
Well,
I am sorry for the hold-up. Back on it.
Hey.
If you go down, I don't have
any chance of getting Zack back.
So the first order of business
is getting some nutritious food in you
and a good night's sleep.
And I can't do any of this without you.
I'll let you eat in peace.
Gus?
Hey, Gus!
Mama's boy.
_
Ha! Last time we were here,
I hit this place with a
dozen sticks of dynamite.
- You'd never know it.
- Well, that would explain
- the delay in construction.
- Where is the crate?
I left it at the loading dock.
The loading dock's on the
other side of the building.
And so is security. This way is
less public.
Keep smiling.
You're still alive,
aren't you? Lead the way.
What's wrong?
No! No, no. Not this way. Here!
My God.
What the hell is this place?
A blood factory.
Is this how you pay
for your big-screen TV?
I swear I have never seen this place
before. I did not know what they were...
What do you want me to do, hm?
Do you want me to die? Do
you want me to get turned?
They've won.
- I was just doing my job.
- As said by countless
facilitators of
genocide throughout time.
Do not
speak again if you wish to remain alive.
Take us to the loading dock.
I don't want to leave
this place standing.
Agreed, but we have more
pressing work at the moment.
Where's the crate?
- It's here.
- You need to slow down.
We cannot let it escape!
Cover me!
Ugh! Argh!
- Get in the truck!
- Yes, sir!
Get us the hell out of here!
Professor, go, go!
Do you want me to go back
there? Finish them off?
Your guards will hold them off.
This cargo is far too
precious to risk any delay.
Gus?
Gus?
Mom!
_
Cheevo!
Hey.
Life looks good on you, man.
You know. Lifting
weights, knocking boys out
- in jail kept me healthy.
- Hahaha! I hear you.
- Having a regular?
- Yeah.
What you been up to these
days? You still doing
- that airport shuttle?
- Yeah.
Feels like I'm running in place though,
- you know?
- I hear that, man.
Hey, Cheevo.
I was looking for some
work on the side, you know.
Nothing too serious though, just,
just trying to get by. Promised
my mom I'd stay out of trouble.
You know what?
This white dude came in
yesterday; looked like
he had cash. Said he needed
someone to do some shit
around the airport.
Right here. "Thomas Eichhorst."
I promised I would take care of her.
She did so much for us.
She sacrificed everything.
_
Nah, man. I failed.
_
I don't want to see you
get hurt, that's all.
_
It's all good.
I'm gonna burn in hell anyway, right?
_
Every decision I made
killed her.
I did all this shit.
We gotta get the hell out of here,
for good.
_
I don't know.
Somewhere far away from this city...
before it drops on us.
- What are you doing up?
- Don't know.
Just thinking about how
many times I've almost died
- in the last few weeks.
- Oh.
I feel much better now.
- Good enough for one of these?
- Always.
Thank you for taking care of me.
It was really quite sweet.
It's nice to see your
nurturing, feminine side.
Oh, I figured you'd like that.
For a moment there, I really
got lost in an old fantasy
of mine about a very butch,
very bald female nurse.
But not quite the lesbian
nurse-and-patient scenario
you're used to thinking about?
I don't know what you're talking about.
- Yeah, you're full of shit.
- No, seriously, I worked
with a lot of nurses.
It's a busman's holiday
for me. Trust me.
OK, right.
So, say there was
this really beautiful
young nurse; topless or lingerie?
- Topless.
- OK, topless
with these... divine,
big, beautiful breasts,
and she came to look after me.
And we just start kissing.
Like,
tongues everywhere kissing.
That wouldn't do anything for you?
Meh!
All right. So,
she starts straddling me,
and my hands are just
all over her. And then suddenly,
we just stop and look at you.
Yeah, you.
And then we start
- crawling toward you.
- Crawling?
Mm-hmm. And then we're
on either side of you,
and she starts
unbuttoning your shirt...
while I undo your trousers.
And as we're doing that,
she and I lean in together,
right over you,
start kissing
and touching.
And then slowly,
our heads start moving down, down...
Whoa-whoa! What is this, torture porn?
- It's your fantasy.
- Fantasies are nice,
but I'm not really
into the choreography.
Just one man and one woman.
It's probably a little vanilla for you.
That's not what I'm thinking.
Please report.
Our legion is spread out
in the grid you suggested.
We are on the highest alert. You believe
the Ancients are located nearby?
I do.
The sun-hunters are clever and elusive,
but we've seen them
surface near there before,
only to lose them each time.
The Ancients need
sustenance, yet cannot
forage for themselves.
- No! No, no wait!
- So when the hunters
go out and search for food, we
must track them back to their lair,
but without being seen.
We will find them tonight.
What's wrong? Didn't Minow
lead you to the cargo?
He did better than that.
He led us right to the facility
where they were keeping it.
On East Tremont Avenue in
the Bronx. That ring a bell?
You knew its purpose.
- Of course.
- A slaughterhouse
for harvesting human beings.
How many of these blood farms are there?
In North America?
Under construction?
Perhaps 100.
I ought to cut you down where you stand.
These facilities mean
nothing if we succeed
in stopping the Master.
You said they are holding the cargo
- at the Tremont facility?
- They were.
They got away before we could get to it.
Loaded on a truck with your buddy
Eichhorst riding shotgun.
Where did they take it?
- That's for you to find out.
- Yes. Yes, I can do that.
And you still have no
idea what was inside?
Whatever it is can't be much worse
than the monster standing before me.
So,
are you finally ready to act
- to save yourselves?
- We are.
What is the meaning of this?!
You traitor! You did this!
No. This is not my
doing. Nor is it my fight.
You've invited your own demise.
The Born.
What an unexpected pleasure!
Fitting that you should be here
and bear witness.
And you. I knew the
humans would be complacent,
but I never anticipated how impotent
you three would be.
You should have been
masters of this world!
Kings, emperors,
gods!
Instead, you are already
so like statues to a fallen race.
This step I take
is more merciful than triumphant.