(siren wailing)
(siren stops)
Corpsman!
It's open.
Hello! Paramedics!
Corpsman? Hello?
(switch clicking)
It's out.
Unit 207 to dispatch.
Arrived at the residence, no response.
Searching the premises now.
Dispatch: Copy that, 207.
Take the stairs, I'll search down here.
Why do I got to take the stairs?
Because I gave mouth-to-mouth to the guy pushing 300 at the last call.
I'm still trying to catch my breath.
Really? Come on.
Hello?
Paramedics!
Corpsman? Hello?
(sighs)
Nothing here.
How you looking?
Corpsman?
(silenced g*nsh*t, thump)
Mott?
Look, if you try and spook me, I swear I'm gonna kick your ass.
Seriously, Mott.
Stop playing.
♪ NCIS:New Orleans 2x07 ♪
Broken Hearted
Original Air Date on November 3, 2015
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪
Woman: Meredith!
Hi.
Mom.
I like this hair.
This is much better than that boy cut, don't you think?
Good to see you, too, Mom.
Yeah, I thought I told you that I didn't need you to pick me up.
And I thought I told you I wanted to welcome you to the city.
Well, you know, it's a work trip, so.
You still haven't said why you're in town.
Hovercraft conference?
Invisibility cloak expo?
Oh, so close, but, you know, I don't work for Hogwarts anymore.
I work for DARPA, and pretty much everything I do is, you know...
Compartmented, yes.
No work.
So, just to get small talk out of the way: let's see, your dad is, uh, on a low salt diet, your aunt's become a lesbian, and the dog is eating his own poop.
Hello.
I have baggage.
Yes, we do.
I know you're probably swamped with meetings, so I just, I wanted to make sure I had a chance to talk to you.
A couple months ago I started receiving these pictures.
Is that supposed to be you?
Where did these come from?
Oh.
They've been altered in... in a really disturbing way.
Emily was removed.
I was Photoshopped in.
I bet it was that Michael Chippino kid that used to date both of you.
I mean, come on, who dates twins?
Some kind of crazy fetish thing going on there.
Mom, a colleague and I started doing some digging, and long story short, these photos led me to an IP address, which was this Web site.
m*rder conspiracies.
Emily was on it.
Huh.
You know I've always thought her death was more than a drunk driver accident.
Apparently you're not the only one.
Oh, good, that's mine.
Let's go.
Listen, darling, I-I understand how this stuff might be upsetting, but it-it seems to me, it's just, like, half-baked speculation, really.
I mean, there's no proof here.
There's nothing that can be documented, corroborated and confirmed.
Mom, someone wants me to see this.
Question is who?
(phone rings)
It's work.
Okay, got to go, but we can discuss this in the car on the way.
No need, darling, I ordered a car.
Lunch tomorrow.
You never intended on driving with me, did you?
(siren wailing)
(indistinct chatter)
Lasalle: Pair of vics.
Hospital Corpsman Second Class, Petty Officer, Aleah Baldwin and Hospital Corpsman First Class, Wesley Mott both went unresponsive over comms.
Naval Branch Health Clinic called NOPD to investigate.
So NOPD found the bodies.
We got Mott's ambulance run log off the vehicle.
Says they were responding to a cardiac arrest.
We got anything on the home owners?
Tenant's been stationed at Jacksonville for three months.
Who made the call?
So when you have a heart att*ck, you usually call 911, right?
Mm-hmm.
Well, whoever placed this call, dialed straight into the clinic.
Somebody wanted NBHC to send first responders.
And the only people on duty, Mott and Baldwin.
What do we got, Loretta?
Ah, the male corpsman, Mott...
(camera shutter clicking)
...was sh*t in the back of the head, and the size of the contact burn suggests he was sh*t from close range.
So our k*ller likely caught Mott by surprise, sh*t him from behind.
And, but unlike Mott, Baldwin here...
(camera shutter clicking)
...took a b*llet from the front.
sh**t took out one, from back here, and then... waits for the other one to enter and...
Bang.
Think I may have motive here.
It's just a theory, but look, Baldwin's body over there, totally undisturbed.
Check this out.
Notice anything missing?
Mott's CAC card's gone.
Somebody yanked it.
Lure two corpsman into a house, k*ll them, for their credentials?
Answer me this: Mott's access card's been used since the k*lling?
(machine beeping rhythmically)
(machine beeping rhythmically)
(vehicle engine idling)
(whirring)
(machine beeping rhythmically Okay, secured.
Good to go.
(taps door twice)
(silenced g*nsh*t)
Guys all right back there?
Christopher, tell me things.
Two more sailors DOA.
According to their C.O., they was on a classified transport from Ochsner Medical.
Let me guess, k*ller used Mott's ID for the pickup?
Yep.
Public street.
There's got to be witnesses.
Well, we got a jogger over there said he saw a black, four-door sedan driving away from the scene.
Get me a make and model.
Pride.
You need to see this.
Organ transplant.
sh*t through the heart.
Whoa. Anybody else thinking Bon Jovi?
Not the time.
Right.
The heart.
Who was it intended for?
(elevator bell dings)
According to Navy Intel, heart was meant for a civilian Navy Cryptologic Technician, Max Pinzon.
Pinzon was stationed out of Virginia; transferred here a week ago for a procedure.
That's all we could get.
The rest is compartmented.
Any word on Pinzon's supervisor?
Well, we were told we'd get a civilian handler instead.
And that would be me.
Mom?
I know. And like a bad penny, she just keeps showing up.
I'm Olivia Brody, I'm Program Manager for Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.
Some call it DARPA, as that is a little easier to say.
And I oversee NCT Pinzon's work.
Agent Pride, I have heard a lot about you.
And I want to thank you for hiring my daughter.
Oh, it's been an honor.
You're slouching, darling.
Let's walk and talk.
This is mom?
Not a word.
Okay.
I recruited Max after our security personnel discovered that he had hacked into our DARPA servers.
Now he's writing code for us.
That's a lot of security for a civilian.
He's an irreplaceable asset.
And his condition?
Congenital heart defect.
Hello, Max.
Considering my surgery was scheduled in 33 minutes, and I've yet to receive benzodiazepine, I take it they're not my surgeons.
Afraid not.
So who are these stiffs?
They're with NCIS.
Agent Pride.
(clears throat) You're heart...
Compromised.
We're gonna find who did that.
We're also gonna do everything we can to get you another one.
Don't bother.
I'm HH blood group.
Bombay blood group.
Less than .0004% of people have it, so the probability of finding another donor heart is roughly 4,356,000 to one.
Ergo: you're looking at a dead man.
We got four sailors dead, all because somebody wanted to get to this kid.
Tell me things.
Max Pinzon, aka PinZ0.
For those of you keeping score at home, that's big “P,” little “I,” little “N,” big “Z,” number zero.
Millennials.
Yeah.
Regardless of spelling, PinZ0 was a foster kid, in and out of group homes since the age of seven.
IQ's off the charts, though. 160.
Same as Einstein and Stephen Hawking.
His heart condition wa# discovered at age ten.
Got his first computer right after that.
Six years later, hacked into the DARPA servers.
Sonja: The agency caught him, turned him.
Turns out he's been working with Mama Brody ever since.
I had no clue.
It's compartmented, just like everything else in the Brody world.
Sonja: Current diagnosis: Without the heart, the kid's looking at three months.
We got any leads?
Given the size and scope of the operation, talked to NSA, CIA and NCTC, but there's no chatter.
Whoever wanted him dead couldn't get to the kid.
So they got to his heart instead.
All right.
Sonja, Chris, stay on medical.
Find out everything about the transplant.
Brody, you're with me.
We want know who's trying to k*ll PinZ0, we need to know more about what he was working on.
I'm decrypting trace routes to unmask the origins of unidentifiable TOR transmissions.
Dude's code is taking the “dark" out of the Dark Web.
All the perps buyin' and sellin' weapons and dr*gs can now be traced and ID'd.
Blowing up most criminals' primary means for doing badness.
Whoa, whoa. Most of?
This'll shut down 97.5% of all online criminal activity.
Well, I got it at more like 96.3%, which is good, but it's not 100%.
Do you want me to show you how I unmask randomly selected relays?
Don't talk down to me, Rain Boy.
So regardless of... whatever any of this means, the target of Mr. PinZ0's work is...
Disrupting t*rror1st organizations.
Right now, we're targeting Boko Haram.
Highly advanced.
As are Jihadist Union, ISIL and Libyan Brigade.
Yes, but for beta testing purposes, we're focused on Boko Haram.
Still, they don't have the kind of infrastructure in the States to pull this kind of thing off.
Just trying to help, darling.
We appreciate that.
But the question is-- regardless of the who-- how did they know the heart was on the move?
(elevator bell dings)
I'm gonna head back to the squad room and go all Spider-Man on the Dark Web.
Pride...
We followed the medical bread crumbs.
Turns out, Hospital Corpsman Mott was scheduled to pick up the transplant heart this morning from Ochsner Medical.
Somehow, whoever k*lled him knew it.
Lasalle: Looked into the Navy angle.
No breach, but there is a middleman.
Middlewoman.
Janis Leary.
She's the organ transplant coordinator.
She scheduled the pick up, sent Mott the assignment.
Lasalle: And what's funky... on day of the transport, she simultaneously logged into the organ donor network in two different places.
That's fishy.
Like big-ass tuna fishy.
Her office is in Metairie.
She's on call till 6:00 p.m.
All right, Sonja, you're with me.
Get back to the office.
Start checking out suspects.
Leary: I guard that login with my life.
Sure you do, but fact is, while you were logged in in the office, somebody else was using your identity from another location.
Yeah, who else might know your password?
Family member? Friend?
My ex-husband.
Now, he's been after me ever since I took Kiko back.
Kiko?
Sonja: Yeah.
Custody disputes can be ugly.
So cute.
While we follow up on the husband angle, need you to think a little harder on other leads.
Well, there's no one else.
I mean, I was assigned a unique user name and password when I started working here.
No one else knows it.
Go back to the assigned part.
Assigned by who?
Blake Walton.
Sweetest man, head of our IT department.
Yeah, which is his office?
Oh, well, he's not here today.
Poor thing called in sick this morning.
Brody: Just got off with the NOPD.
Nobody at Walton's home.
Lasalle: Dumped his financials.
70K deposited into his account as of three days ago.
Guy calls in sick... happens.
Guy calls in sick after a big payday... something is definitely up.
Yeah, especially if he drives a black, four-door sedan that matches the description of our getaway vehicle.
I'll put a BOLO out.
(computer beeps)
No need.
Had the car manufacturer hook us up with his GPS.
Got a location: Industrial Canal.
I'll drive.
Brody: Car still isn't moving.
It's less than an eighth of a mile from here.
Everything all right?
Mom. Over 30 texts.
She's got the CIA all over Boko Haram.
“Just trying to help, dear.”
Well, help's a good thing.
Oh, trust me, “just trying to help” doesn't actually mean she's just trying to help.
“Just trying to help” means she doesn't trust us to find her golden boy's k*ller.
Complicated.
Decoding Olivia Brody takes decryption software a thousand times more powerful than PinZ0's.
Okay, you gotta slow down.
Why?
'Cause the car should be right here.
Great.
We'll call the scuba crew.
Took the divers 20 minutes to locate the car.
Pride: And Walton?
Didn't see him.
So Walton uses Janis Leary's password to get Intel on the heart.
Passes it on to our assassin...
Then acts as the getaway driver before dumping the car in the drink to get rid of evidence.
Gonna have to fume it to get prints.
Let's see what we can find.
Or can't find.
Seats in the back are missing to make room for the bypass machine.
Hey, guys.
Pride: Yep?
Walton didn't ditch the car.
And why is that?
'Cause I'm standing here looking at him.
Wade: They cut his heart out.
Only thing taken.
All other organs are accounted for.
So two hearts.
PinZ0's and Walton's.
The first heart was sh*t, the second removed.
Doesn't make sense.
Which is why I went back and took a closer look at the one you recovered this morning.
I noticed the pulmonary trunk was quite large-- too large, in fact, to be viable for a transplant for PinZ0.
So, I had Sebastian run an expedited DNA test on the heart.
Never guess who it belongs to.
Walton.
Our k*ller swapped the hearts to buy some time, make us think this was about k*lling PinZ0.
But this wasn't an assassination.
This was a heist.
Which means...
PinZ0's heart... is still out there.
PinZ0's heart was removed from the donor's chest at 8:15 a.m.
At 9:10, it was switched with Walton's in the back of the paramedics' van.
Now, assuming the heart's in an HP machine now... we've got about seven hours until it expires, along with the kid's chances.
All right.
Set a clock.
Know what we're working with.
Any leads on the heart's location?
Over 3,500 people on the transplant list, new names added every day.
The demand's higher than the supply.
Meaning unauthorized organ sale's a multi-billion dollar industry.
And with PinZ0's HH blood type...
His missing heart is pretty much the Hope Diamond of donor organs.
Assuming our k*ller has the heart, gotta also assume he has a buyer.
Still needs someone to do the transplant.
Well, there can only b# a handful of surgeons skilled enough to do it.
Now I'll compile a list.
(phone rings)
I find anything, I'll let you know.
My mother.
She wants an update.
I'll take that.
Chris, search the wait list.
Figure out who's a match for that heart.
Brody, get with Patton.
Find me a seller.
Patton: Request for a pinky... pair of kidneys.
Ooh. Brand-new set of corneas strike your fancy?
20/20 vision, thank you very much.
All right, we'll just stick to the heart.
Narrowing the search.
Oh. Wait a minute. Wait...
Hey, we being watched.
Back door code running a spy node.
Oh, wait...
Oh...
Somebody's hacking my server.
Whoever this is is good.
But I'm better.
Hold on.
Gotcha.
Can you get a location?
Oh, hell no.
You're spying on me?
It's my heart.
My life.
I deserve to know what's up.
You gotta let us work. And trust us.
Please.
Last people I trusted were the pediatricians who misdiagnosed my condition.
Lost five years where I could've been on the transplant list.
I get it.
It sucks when your body won't do what you ask it to.
I see what you're doing.
Trying this whole “you and I are the same” business.
But we're not.
I was born this way.
Don't get the sense you were.
(grunts)
(exhales)
How'd you end up in that chair, anyway?
Bear att*ck.
Accident in a demolition derby.
I'm serious.
Okay, serious.
Nagano, Winter Olympics, 1998.
Men's ice skating.
I fell doing a triple Salchow.
Takes a rotation speed of approximately two revolutions per second to successfully land that maneuver.
Judging from the excess weight around your midsection...
I don't see it.
Who knew Rain Boy owned the funny?
Eh, what can I say?
I'm well-rounded.
Not as well-rounded as you, but...
Oh, and again! (chuckles)
'Kay, well, from here forward... you stick to the jokes.
'Cause if you hack our servers again, I'll be the one setting up your Wi-Fi.
In your jail cell.
No jail cell for me.
My investigation was sanctioned.
Sanctioned by who?
You told PinZ0 to hack us?
We needed to access your hospital surveillance footage.
And asking wasn't a possibility?
Asking doesn't always get me to yes.
Look, we have developed cutting edge photo encryption software.
If we just have one image of the k*ller's face, then we can identify him.
We scanned hospital footage and all cams within a 20-mile radius.
If we had something to share, we'd share it.
How can we work together if you don't trust me?
You're slouching again.
Don't do that.
What?
That.
You don't actually care that I'm slouching.
Really? What do you think I actually care about?
I don't know.
You know what, I've never known.
I would love for you to be straightforward, for once.
I would love to know what you are actually thinking.
Lasalle: Brody?
Percy's found a cardiothoracic surgeon, Susan Gatley.
Works at St. Charles Hospital.
She qualified to do this surgery?
And she's been MIA since this morning.
Percy's on the way to Gatley's house now.
She's gonna meet us there.
We'll keep you posted.
Thank you.
The heart's local.
So it makes sense the surgeon would be, too.
Trouble.
Lasalle: Looks like we're late to the party.
Federal agents!
Clear.
Clear.
Early morning B&E.
Looks like someone took the doc by force.
Brings her to where the heart and the patient are waiting.
All right.
See what we can find.
I'll, uh, check out the back.
(dog barking)
Damn it!
(barking)
You're not a canine kind of person, are you, Percy?
I like them just fine as long as they don't call me lunch.
(barking)
Hey, guys, what's that in his mouth?
It looks like blood.
Looks like he took a bite outta crime.
(chuckles)
What now?
All right, stand back, ladies, and watch the dog whisperer do his work.
(barking continues)
Hello, poochie pooch-pooch.
It just ain't right.
30 minutes ago, this dog was ready to k*ll.
Poochie-poochie goes a long way.
Here's a fun fact: Do you know the breed is actually called the German shepherd dog?
So as not to be mistaken with a German shepherd?
As in a German person who tends livestock?
I like Germans, you know?
They're kind of like M&M'S.
They're hard on the outside but soft in the middle.
Except this one, who had a k*ller's blood in its terrifying maw.
That's a valid point.
So I got DNA results back from the aforementioned mouth blood.
Gaylan Conroy.
Recently served a stint in Walpole Correctional.
Based out of Boston.
Got seven years for extortion and a reputation for being a g*n for hire.
Well, the question is who's he work for?
I'll put a BOLO out.
Conroy's already been flagged.
Charleston PD's looking for him.
Car theft.
Looks like they got a photo of him crossing a toll bridge.
Well, who's the mystery passenger?
Uh, I-I might be able to enhance that if you let me tag in.
By all means, proceed.
All right, let's, uh... up the resolution here.
And sharpen the pixels.
Brody: Still blurry.
If only we knew someone with access to top secret photo software that...
Fine. Fine. Fine.
I will call her.
Okay? I'll call her.
Olivia: The trick is reducing the size of the bitmap to restore the original resolution, and... there he is.
Nice work, Mama Brody.
Thank you, Christopher.
Mom, I'm gonna need my desk back.
I need to run it through Bruce.
Oh.
Pride: Won't be necessary.
Thomas Dolan.
Seen him on Interpol and the FBI's Most Wanted bulletin.
Been in hiding two years.
Rings a bell from the A*F.
Extortion, racketeering, money laundering, m*rder.
I mean, this guy's a bad man.
With the rap sheet like that, why resurface to steal a heart?
Ready for this?
FBI's medical dossier on Dolan says he was diagnosed with a heart condition three years ago.
Want to know the blood type?
HH. Same as PinZ0's.
Thomas Dolan stole the heart for himself.
Thomas Dolan pays IT specialist Walton to tip him off when a heart becomes available.
Hires Conroy to steal it.
Picks up a heart surgeon to boot.
Meaning find Dolan...
Find the heart.
All right, Chris, dump traffic cams.
Tollbooths and ATMs.
I'll update the BOLO.
Pride: Sonja with me.
Open heart surgeries needs supplies, machines, medications.
We find who bought them, might also find out where this is all going down.
We've purchased everything we could legally acquire to perform a transplant surgery.
Yeah, we got vascular clips, rib and sternum retractors, aorta clamps, heart monitor, plus they threw in this spiffy doctor's coat for free.
Do you know how hard it is for me to find something that fits like this right off the rack?
Pride: So, this is the legal stuff?
Yeah, and as for the illegal stuff, we're talking, uh, pharmacological anesthesias like azathioprine and anticoagulants.
And then there's the hardware.
This is a cardiopulmonary bypass machine.
Keeps the blood circulating.
Costs hundreds of thousands of dollars and it's only sold to licensed medical professionals.
Yeah, you can only get your hands on one of these bad boys if you steal it or if you buy it off the black market.
Dark Web.
Illegal medical equipment's on there all the time.
Patton. I'll call.
I'll get Brody to start checking in with the manufacturers.
You kept the receipt for all this stuff, right?
I hope we can return it.
Cardiopulmonary bypass machine.
I see you have one in your warehouse.
I'm just checking to see that it's still there.
Woman: Can you hold?
No, I don't have time.
And you put me on hold.
Find that machine yet?
I'm working on it.
Max is a special boy, Merri.
A brilliant boy.
We only have 90 minutes left.
You don't think I know that?
Yeah, yeah, sure you do.
“What was I thinking”"
Sorry?
You asked me before.
You wanted to know exactly what I was thinking.
I'll tell you.
Despite what you might believe, I trust you more than you will ever know.
Coffee.
Tell me it's spiked with gin.
You okay?
One second she trusts me, and the next second she goes up there so she can literally look over my shoulder.
Classic push me, pull me.
I know a thing or two about that.
My brother Cade.
Whenever he heads down the psychological rabbit hole, one minute he's asking for help, the next he's chucking beer bottles at my head.
(chuckles) Hidden meaning behind this flying glass?
Whether he knows it or not, pushing me away only makes me fight hard to get closer to him.
Nobody wants to face their demons alone.
Woman (over phone): Hello?
Are you still there?
Yes, yes, still there.
Hi.
Great. Model number?
Thank you, thank you.
Okay, Nova-Pilsner Medical, manufacturer out of Texas, just reported a first generation cardiopulmonary machine stolen from their recycling plant two months ago.
There she is.
An A68 Nova-Pilsner Medical Heart and Lung Machine sold on the Dark Web to the highest bidder.
Outdated model.
I was hooked up to it once.
Long time ago.
Well, whoever bought this machine...
Is the person with my heart?
That's our guess.
(typing)
(sighs) Sucks.
What?
Buyer's untraceable.
(chuckles)
If my code was finished, I could locate where it was purchased, save my own life.
You ever look at your relay decryption algorithm?
I been poking around your code.
You can't do that.
Wait, hold on, hold on, hold on.
After you hacked my server, Rain Boy, you lost the right to can and can't.
Now, about your algorithm.
If you throw in a set variance key, you might cut your trace time in half.
Believe me I've considered it, but that would take another year or two, which I don't have.
Might not have.
Three months and an HH blood type?
That was the only heart, and even if you recover it, the odds of it still being viable are...
Would you stop with the odds, kid?
Listen, man, after I had my accident, the odds of me moving anything below my neck as a million to one.
Had I given up, I would've got a bed instead of a sled.
So it was an accident?
I flipped a car doing 300 on the Royal Raceway.
(laughing)
Royal Raceway only exists in Mario Kart.
(laughs)
Guess you're not planning on telling me the truth.
Not while there's work to be done.
What are you doing?
Well, if you can't finish your code, we gotta att*ck this problem from a different angle.
Find the machine, not the buyer.
Okay, you gotta read the manual.
“Offline on-board computer...
“controls the BMP rate...
“controls the blood flow... controls the voltage to the machine..”"
This is the new model.
The old model doesn't have that functionality.
(tapping keys)
(computer blipping)
“Requires a..”
“...steady voltage.”
Bingo!
Hang in there, Rain Boy, your odds of finishing your code just got a hell of a lot better.
Brody: Wherever this surgery is going down, they've got to have a regulated flow of electricity.
Lasalle: City-wide search.
Only buildings with voltage regulators are hospitals and medical centers.
Been no calls about h*jacked operating rooms.
You gotta assume they're working under the radar.
Abandoned hospitals, clinics, walk-ins.
We gotta find this thing.
Okay, there are 97 medical facilities in the greater New Orleans area.
88 operational, nine shut down... and of the nine, only one of them is currently drawing power from the grid: Lafayette Memorial Hospital, in Terrytown.
Smart.
Let's move!
Nothing on the south end.
(quietly): Headed for the lab now.
(indistinct conversation in distance)
(indistinct conversation continues)
Conroy.
Got eyes on Conroy.
(indistinct conversation)
♪ ♪
NCIS! Put your w*apon down!
NCIS!
Let's go.
(groans)
Conroy's headed your way.
(panting)
Drop the w*apon! Now!
Come on!
Hands where we can see 'em.
Come on! Get 'em up!
Come to me, now!
Nice and slow!
Turn around!
On your knees!
Cross your legs.
Get your hands on your head.
Gaylan Conroy... you're under arrest for the m*rder of four members... of the United States Navy.
(handcuffs clicking)
Please! Don't sh**t.
(gasping)
NCIS.
You're gonna be okay.
They put a g*n to my head.
They made me do it.
But he was too weak.
His eyes are fixed and dilated.
He's brain dead.
Dr. Gatley...
Dr. Gatley!
Yes?
The heart-- where is it?
It's inside him.
(indistinct police radio communication)
(helicopter engine idling)
Sonja: We got 15 minutes left!
Flight to the hospital will take ten!
Even then, chance of the transplant rejection are likely.
Likely, but not certain.
Keep pumping! Keep this heart alive!
He's been off the machine for three minutes, got a recipient who needs this heart waiting at Stewartson Navy Base, at the hospital.
Go now!
(engine whirring)
Yeah.
Heli's gonna be here in five.
P, it's showtime, man.
(quiet laugh)
You know... this was sort of fun.
Ha, ha.
Fun is Bourbon Street, Fat Tuesday.
(laughs)
When you're a little better, a little older, I'll show you the world, kid.
Got to administer the sedative.
Hey, your, uh... adjustments to my code, relay decryption algorithm... that's not bad.
(both laughing)
Really? Not bad?
Almost good, even.
Aw, don't go soft on me now... Rain Boy.
(gasps)
Y-You should stay on that.
When you're recovered.
That's more important to me than anything.
I'm-I'm gonna need someone to finish it, if I don't make it.
What you need is to go get your heart.
See you on the other side, all right?
Okay. (inhales)
Ready?
(strained): Yeah?
Software update?
(laughs): Yeah.
PinZ0 2.0.
I'll be waiting for you.
(gasping): Okay.
I'm behind you.
Come here.
Give me your hand.
♪ It's getting cold and I just don't care ♪
♪ So I'm gonna find something else to do ♪
♪ Uh-huh ♪
♪ Just take a really good look at me ♪
♪ I'm 22 and I still don't see why ♪
♪ All of you people ♪
♪ Can't get along ♪
♪ Anymore ♪
♪ 'Cause falling down ain't so hard to do ♪
♪ Your only crutch be the bottle of brew ♪
♪ So I'm gonna find something else to do ♪
♪ Uh-huh ♪
♪ 'Cause if I ever was to say to you ♪
♪ All them things that you wanted me to love ♪
♪ I'd have to find something else to do ♪
♪ Uh-huh ♪
♪ So I'm gonna stand here by your fire... ♪
Percy.
Wake up.
♪ I'm taking care of soulfight... ♪
What's the word?
♪ And you're the reason... ♪
Doc said that the heart was in bad shape by the time they got it in him.
That kid fought like hell.
♪ I'm taking care of soulfight... ♪
But it didn't take.
♪ And you're the reason why ♪
♪ So I'm gonna stand here by your fire ♪
♪ 'Cause it's a cold one tonight ♪
♪ Taking care of soulfight ♪
♪ And you're the reason... ♪
♪ Why. ♪
(sighs)
(knocking on door, door opens)
You all right?
Not in the least.
Hard to b*at the odds, man.
Genius... trapped in a hospital bed.
Nothing but a computer screen to live life through.
It's gotta bring up things.
He kept asking me how I got in the chair.
Did you tell him?
What difference does it make?
I made the decision that this would never hold me back, and I told him the same before he went under.
Got to look forward, that's what life is.
♪ ♪
You're a good man, Triple P.
You did everything you could.
Don't wait for me, King.
(door opens)
(door shuts)
(computer blipping)
You think I did everything, Pride?
(computer trilling)
(steady blipping)
Almost everything.