02x15 - Da b*mb

[bunniefuu]

♪ ♪

She's late.

She's five percent past our agreed-upon meeting time.

Tonight you're not a genius.

You're just a normal guy on a normal date.

(sighs)

Excuse me.

Um, excuse me. I have a reservation at 8:00 for O'Brien, and I would like that table over there in the back by the kitchen.

The kitchen?

Yes.

Are you sure?

That table ensures maximum intersection of the waiter's path with my eye-line, making it easier to capture our server's attention.

Hence, a more efficient dining experience.

Oh, speaking of efficiency, I think I will pre-order, if I may go off the menu?

Fermented herring.

I value their Omega 3's neuroprotective properties.

Toby: You ever think your date might value you not smelling like the Fulton Fish Market at low tide?

You know what? Scratch the fish.

Instead, I would like the, um... spicy tamale appetizer.

Toby: But you don't like tamales.

Walter: Spicy foods cause endorphin release which will lead to a more pleasurable evening for my date.

Whole point of this is to learn how to interact with others on a more human level, so...

Um... we don't require rationale.

Okay.

Engaging the subject.

Toby: She's a woman, not a subject.

Hi.

Hi.

I was early, got here first.

Yeah. I see that.

May I show you to your table?

Oh, thank you, um, and if you don't mind, nothing by the kitchen. It's always so noisy.

Great idea. Yes.

Here you go.

Mmm! So I took the liberty of ordering an appetizer, in case you were hungry.

They look great, but, um... I'm allergic to corn.

Oh. Well, we don't want your histamines to get hysterical, so I'll just... I'll move that to the side...

Oh, no, no, no, you should at least enjoy them.

Oh! Oh. Okay. Yeah.

I'm s... I'm sorry.

It's... fine.

(sighs)

I'm a little anxious.

Ironically, for a speed dating organizer, I'm not good at first dates.

Me, neither.

I know. I mean, I noticed at speed dating.

And I thought, if this guy's as bad at it as I am, we might hit it off.

So, I thought, "What the heck? I've got his info sheet, why not call him?"

Plus, you were clearly nervous.

It was kind of endearing.

That was a compliment, knucklehead.

Lob a little ear-candy back at her.

You have a lovely smile.

Oh. (laughs)

Your canines are particularly sharp.

Excuse me?

Excuse me?

They're pointed.

It's a sign of good genetics.

Animals can't masticate tougher meats with dull canines.

Thank you?

Well, this date's over.

In the sequel to the 1994 hit Speed,

Keanu Reeves was replaced by the grandson of this famous Hollywood star.

And I will take "Potent Potables" for 600.

No. Answer the question.

Does it start with an "M?"

How about starts with "C" for "Coward?"

You can't dodge pop culture.

It's stressful.

You are sweating more than me at a craps game.

Why do you do this to yourself?

The only reason I'm auditioning for Jeopardy! is to get practice being on camera, because that terrifies me, but after that, I'll be ready for The Price is Right, which is my actual goal.

And that show is perfect.

It's all math, all numbers, and I mean, it's-it's a heck of a lot of fun.

Well, you better improve quick, 'cause Jeopardy! interview in T minus ten hours.

Okay, how could you not know Speed? A massive, out-of-control bus racing through Los Angeles.

It's a classic flick.

Why would I watch that movie? I take the bus every day.

Please, I'm already nervous enough about this TV thing.

And Happy, could you just take five on the work you're doing with that skid plate?

The noise is stressing me out.

Paige: If you're so stressed, why are you even doing this?

Whitehull Hospital is selling the naming rights to its new pediatric ward.

And Megan and I used to go in there to look at the babies. She loved it.

So, if I can earn enough money, hopefully, it'll be named "The Megan Dodd Pediatric Care Ward."

That is lovely, Sylvester.

All right, now we're back from commercial break.

Time to check in with our contestants.

Sylvester, tell us a little something about yourself.

Perfect, because I have been writing down... anecdotes.

How spontaneous.

We need to practice casual conversation.

Just tell me a story from your life that highlights your unique personality.

I once spent a year without touching a doorknob.

It's a game show audition.

Appeal to the masses.

Talk about your stupid comic books.

Good morning, everyone.

Oh, I'll take "Hot Topics" for a thousand, Alex.

How'd the big date end?

It went... very well.

Toby: That must've been the comeback of the century.

Walter: I can assure you that after a rocky start, I finished strong. I-I... even programmed some follow-up texts to check in with Linda throughout the day.

Used some bits of popular slang.

I heard the top of that date.

You finished as strong as Clubber Lang in Rocky III.

Huh?

Do you watch no movies?

Paige: Well, one way to be sure.

According to Linda's Facebook page, she posted it was an "interesting evening."

Walter: Aha!

Interesting is good.

Girls want magical, not interesting.

Why do you care?

Because I want to see him succeed at his new endeavor.

Cabe: Top of the morning, g*ng.

Case just came in from NASA.

It's a bit time-sensitive, but it's a lay-up.

Hold on. Are you taller?

Look at those kicks!

Did you not hear the part about time-sensitive?

I did.

So, what's with the new footwear?

So, NASA has a rocket launch...

Toby: Oh, I get it!

You got sent to the senior section in speed dating, and now you're trying to Benjamin your Button.

I've had these shoes for years.

My other ones are at the cobbler.

The cobbler?

Did you say hi to the chimney sweep on your way to the cobbler?

As I was saying, NASA has scheduled an unmanned rocket launch today from Hoffman Air Force Base.

Captain Ryan Jackson will be linking in, any moment.

Let's be professional.

Why are you looking at me?

Jackson: In short, a faulty sensor alerted possible system failure on our JC-49 set to launch in three hours.

Walter: I haven't seen anything online about a rocket launch.

That's because it's top secret.

Transporting a spy satellite?

It's classified.

But since you have an experience with this type of rocketry, they want you to help solve the problem, since they're short on time.

Normally, we'd postpone, but a bad weather front's moving in.

Could put us back days.

Okay, could be one of two things: a hardware flaw in the rocket itself, or a coding defect triggering the glitch.

Now, I can get into Mission Control here from our office.

I can authorize that.

No need.

I'm in.

As for hardware issues, members of our team will be at your base shortly.

He got into our most secure server that quickly?

Nothing's secure with these guys.

Jackson: Thanks for getting here so quickly.

I drive fast.

Once we study the rocket schematics, we'll figure out where the problem lies, and then Happy'll take over.

Should be a quick fix.

We'll be out of your hair, and you can launch.

Well, I have to say, you're a lot easier to work with than our traditional Homeland liaison.

Cabe: Liaison?

Who's that exactly?

Team Scorpion.

Miss me?

Holy bald boomerang, Batman. Merrick's back!

You're the one who asked for us?

Not thrilled about it, but Scorpion's a tech team, right?

You work at NASA now.

I've had all kinds of fun jobs since I got demoted because I couldn't get along with your Nerd Herd.

Well, it was more than just that.

It was.

It was you calling the administration, telling them that I wasn't "part of the solution."

Since then, I've been assigned to National Park Security, Lake Erie Anti-Terrorism Patrol, and now, NASA.

And since Endeavor's been retired, ain't what it used to be.

Career's gangbusters.

Okay, the script that's running chamber pressure protocols seems to be in order.

Toby, everything seem okay?

It appears valid.

Okay.

Hi.

Can I help you?

I'm... here for Walter?

Oh, hi. You're Linda.

I'm here... for Walter.

Uh, okay.

Uh... Walter?

Linda! (laughs)

What are you doing here?

This Linda from last night?

Walter: Yeah.

What did you do to her?

What is this?

Toby: She's in shock.

Just plug it in.

Okay.

Distorted voice: Scorpion, you will sabotage the launch you were assigned today.

What was that I just heard?

Distorted voice: You tell anyone, or don't do what I say, I will know.

Ms. Dineen dropped her keys entering her car.

At 8:06, Mr. Curtis left his apartment, then went back to retrieve his hat. It's simple.

Sabotage that launch, or face the consequences.

What consequences?

I think he's referring to this.

Is that a b*mb?

I don't think the date went as well as you thought, Walter.

♪ Scorpion 2x15 ♪
Da b*mb
Original Air Date on January 25, 2016

The wall is just precautionary in case there is an... incident.

(drill whirring)

Paige: We'll be right here the whole time.

Right on this side.

(drill whirrs)

Now, if we're gonna help you, we need to know what you remember from last night.

I already told you, I don't remember much.

We should also be concerned about what the guy on the recording knows.

Like... like how I dropped my keys.

Well, you two were both outside, so maybe they hacked into satellite imagery, or had access to it, or know someone who has access to it.

Doesn't narrow it down much.

Walter: Point is, they would see if the b*mb squad came rushing in.

So it's up to us.

Anything that you can recall would be useful.

(sighs anxiously)

All I remember is... getting to my car after our date.

You didn't walk her to her car?

I thought you said it went well.

It's an antiquated, sexist notion.

Let's save this for later.

Linda.

I-I got out my keys.

I felt a pinch in my neck, and next thing I know, I'm-I'm waking up with a vest on me, a note saying that I had to bring you that jump drive, and a bitter taste in my mouth.

I don't blame you, if your date doesn't even walk you to your car.

N-No.

I mean an actual bitter taste.

In the back of my throat.

Bitter taste.

Well, that sounds to me like benzodiazepine.

Cabe: That's a government-issued chemical.

Developed a few years ago for enhanced interrogation.

Who would do this that had access to such chemicals?

And who would want to take this rocket down so badly?

A possible U.S. spy satellite launch?

Other than Canada, everybody.

Does it matter who right now?

Well, if we find out who it is, then we can track them down, get the detonator, and then shut off that expl*sive.

Sylvester: Did you get anything from the thumb drive?

Walter: No, I can't unscramble the voice.

The modulator is incredibly advanced.

Any chance you can remove or disarm the b*mb?

Wh-Wh-What are you doing?

Just taking a peek.

There you go, Walter.

You're doing great.

Walter: Okay. It's okay.

Yeah, it looks like the wiring circles around the vest.

So if we try to remove it, it would detonate.

Recount: there's a receiver on the outside, which means that there's a remote detonator.

One wrong move and, you know...

You mean... I die.

Yes.

That's-that's not a guarantee.

(whispers): Walter.

She is a person, not just a problem to solve.

So think of her feelings.

I, uh, apologize for my, uh, bluntness.

Your feelings of fear are valid.

Who are you people?

I-I thought that you were an I.T. guy.

Oh, I am, technically, but I also handle top secret, highly sensitive cases for Homeland Security.

Toby: Whoever did this probably thought you were a couple and that Walter would do anything to save you.

That's why you were targeted.

But we're not a couple.

I just hadn't had a date in months and I-I watched The Notebook the day before I called you and...

I just read that when you die, your cat might eat your body.

Oh, God.

I'm gonna die alone because I was scared I'd die alone.

Listen to me, you're not gonna die alone.

Might want to tweak that.

I mean you're not gonna die.

I will do what it takes to save you.

I just don't know what it is exactly.

I'm trying to figure it out.

Jackson: Any luck with schematics?

Launch is scheduled for 90 minutes from now.

Uh, we're conferring with home base.

Walt, we need to make a decision here.

Turns out that NASA's pretty punctual with their rockets.

If we're gonna save that kid's life, we're gonna have to gum up the launch.

And how many years is that gonna get us?

It's my fault that Linda's in this situation.

We can't let her die.

We're sabotaging that rocket.

(Walter tapping keys)

We have to send it off course without alerting anyone at NASA.

But I was just in their system, so digital sabotage would be too obvious and could land us in prison.

You guys could sneak into the rocket itself, screw with some gears.

The surveillance system surrounding the entire launch site makes that virtually impossible.

Fuel.

It's the last thing loaded onboard before takeoff.

If we can dilute the fuel before it's pumped in, the rocket won't have enough thrust to make it into orbit.

It'll harmlessly crash into the Pacific, and seem like a simple fuel mixture malfunction.

Okay, the tanks are kept underground, close to mission control.

Shouldn't take long to access.

Okay, we'll give NASA the good news that we found the glitch.

Captain, our diagnostic is pointing to a fuel sensor malfunction.

If I can get a quick look at the tanks, I can have it fixed with time to spare.

"Quick" being the operative word.

I'll go with them, make sure they get it done.

We don't need a babysitter.

I may not have authority over you anymore, but I am still the Homeland agent assigned to NASA.

Not gonna let you screw this one up and get me demoted to Border Patrol.

Now let's go.

Okay, there's still a chance that I can disarm the b*mb, but I need to see the circuitry inside the vest.

An X-rayed image.

Toby, does Kovelsky's have satellite TV?

Yeah, that's where I watch the races. The news.

Okay, go get the dishes from the roof.

Sneak onto a diner's rooftop, dislodge two small satellite dishes, and lug 'em back here?

Sure. Sounds easy. Oh, wait, except for the madman watching us via satellite.

Overwhelming odds that he will see you and reach out.

I will deal with that. Now go.

Roger that!

Okay.

What else?

First, I need to download airport security scanning software.

(phone ringing)

It's my phone.

It's in my jacket.

Number's blocked.

Hello. Linda's phone.

Distorted voice: Mr. Curtis just exited your facility.

Are you playing games?

Of course not.

He's just gone to grab satellite dishes so that we can mask a signal that I am transmitting into Hoffman's system.

We can't sabotage the launch without it.

By now, you should realize that failing to take my thr*at seriously will result in a very unpleasant death for Linda.

Well, I can assure you, we are taking your thr*at seriously.

There is no way that that rocket reaches its destination.

Hello?

Hello?

Okay, he bought the lie.

Now I'm gonna work on that scanning software.

Toby should be back in a minute. We'll get to work.

Everything is gonna be fine!

First dates, right?

All right, let's hurry up and figure out how to dilute this fuel.

Right there. We redirect the water from that inflow to the fuel t*nk.

Size of the valve, diameter of the pipe--

I'm guessing about 15 PSI. Sly?

We need roughly eight minutes, 11 seconds to throw off the fuel level by five percent, which is enough to alter the trajectory of the rocket.

We can't do this if Merrick can walk in at any moment.

That's why Sly's gonna keep him busy.

Me?

No, no, no. I...

He makes me nervous.

Everyone makes you nervous.

Now listen, I'm gonna make up an excuse and what you're gonna...

Merrick: Are we done yet?

'Cause I'd really hate to say good-bye.

We need to see the liquid oxygen t*nk.

You said fuel tanks.

The fuel and the oxygen get mixed together, so we need to make sure that they're both working properly.

Or we can tell NASA you're the reason they don't launch on time.

Up to you.

Fine. Let's go.

Sly will go with you while I finish up with the fuel.

Should take him no more than, say, nine minutes, to be safe.

Let's hit those oxygen tanks.

Okay.

I got 'em!

We got to replace these by Sunday.

I'm watching the Super Bowl at Kovelsky's.

Okay.

So we need to position these behind the Plexiglas shield to create a scanner that will produce the clearest X-ray image of the b*mb, so...

Don't worry. I'll do it.

Toby: You sure?

I was just about to offer.

(phone chimes)

Linda: Oh, God.

Is it him again?

No. Not the bomber.

Let me see?

You don't want to see this.

It's my damn phone.

Walter: Paige... you're not helping anything by upsetting her.

Okay. Just remember you told me to do this.

Uh-huh.

"Hope you're having a blast today"?

"Best, Walter"?

Is that supposed to be funny?

Sadly, it's supposed to be romantic.

Ooh. I preprogrammed some follow-up texts after our date.

Clearly an unfortunate, uh, choice of words, given the circumstances.

You think?

Eh... Listen, I-I'm sorry.

I just thought it would be an efficient way to follow up with you.

And seeing as the date went so well...

It didn't go well, Walter.

You-you say that you're this special intellect who works for the government, but I-I doubt that, because no one with half a brain could think that that dinner was a success.

It was awful!

And awkward and weird.

Because... you're weird.

You're a weird man who says weird things with a... a-a weird job, and all of that has culminated in me having a b*mb strapped to my chest.

Yes.

I-I see.

Though I appreciate your feedback, I'm gonna get back to it.

Oh, I, uh...

Don't worry about yelling at me.

Those things really don't... affect me.

So... I'm still gonna save you.

Okay. Um...

This is taking too long.

I'm gonna go check on the others.

Happy: Sly, we're not done. Stall him.

Appeal to the masses, remember?

Wait! You know, this whole case really reminds me of Super Fun Guy issue 24, "Fight or Space Flight."

It's a classic, and I believe it's really relevant to the work that you've been doing with NASA.

What?! (stammers)

Well, to fully understand its relevancy, I have to give you a brief history on classic game theory.

This shouldn't take too long.

Walter: Okay, okay. Good.

Keep your arms still and slowly rotate.

There's no chance this could set off the b*mb, right?

Define "chance."

There's good news and there's bad news.

Good news first.

So, uh, there's an interesting anomaly in the wiring-- an unorthodox, essentially superfluous twist in the conduits.

These criminals, they often have distinct signatures in their work, not unlike the markings of a sculptor or repeating themes of a writer.

b*mb-makers, no different.

Walter: You know, if the twist is a signature of the bomber, then it could help identify him.

And what's the bad news?

Well, the bad news is I can't disarm it; there's one fail-safe after another.

It's too intricate.

There's even a contingency if I try to disrupt the signal between the timer and the remote detonator, then...

It goes boom?

That's a lot of bad news.

Okay, you know what?

Let's focus on the good news.

Toby, start searching the FBI databases to see if there are any criminals who match this b*mb-making signature.

On it.

Happy: Tell Captain Jackson I'll send him a report tonight to explain that the glitch was nothing more than a defective fill sensor.

Whatever.

Just get off the base and don't let the gate hit you in the ass on the way out.

Walter, the rocket's been compromised.

And if our bomber is a man of his word, Linda should be okay once the launch fails. Doc?

His speech pattern and clipped word choice point to a man who keeps his promises.

That's a good thing, 'cause we're nowhere near disarming this firecracker.

That's a problem.

Why?

'Cause those canisters are nitrogen and nitrogen is used to recreate the Earth's atmosphere.

Sylvester: And you would only do that if there were humans on board.

Oh, boy.

We've moved to a service road on the compound.

No one can see us here.

I used the car's 4G to link up with the security cameras for the rocket.

It's confirmed. There are three astronauts boarding.

If we let this rocket take off, we'll be murdering those people.

Yeah, if we don't let it take off, we will have effectively k*lled Linda.

Either way, not good.

Why wouldn't Jackson tell us?

The U.S. isn't supposed to be doing this. The White House announced three years ago that they were done with manned space missions.

That's why it's so top secret.

Enough.

We're done playing ball with this jerk's demands.

Do we have a choice?

I'm choosing to save those astronauts and Linda.

Happy: The rocket launches 30 minutes after they're on board.

That's all the time we have.

If it launches smoothly, the bad guy gets pissed and Linda's done for.

Happy, if we put the turbo pumps into overdrive, would that compensate for the diluted fuel?

It should keep the rocket on course.

But there's no remote way to alter the turbo pumps.

You have to do it manually.

Walt, that's a tough trick to pull off.

Let us get our heads together and we'll get back to you.

If you let the rocket launch, he's gonna detonate the b*mb.

I don't want to die.

You're not going to die.

You said yourself, there's no way to disarm it.

You're right, I can't disarm it.

That's why we're gonna let the b*mb go off.

I might only be a psychiatrist, but they taught us in med school that blowing people up is bad for their bodies.

There is a sh*t at survival if we submerge her in ballistic gel.

Now, the impact velocity of the expl*sives can be reduced and the resultant energy transfer and reciprocal retardant force can be...

Oh, my God, just how does it work?

The blast can be dispersed and dissipated enough so that Linda could possibly survive.

Could possibly?

Great.

We would need about 200 gallons of gel to make that remotely plausible.

And a shield between her body and the b*mb to absorb part of the blast and direct the rest away from her.

Now, I saw half a pound of C-4 in Linda's vest.

That's only enough to hurt Linda and anyone standing near her.

The skid plates from Happy's dune buggy should make decent armor.

And the magic gel?

That, we make.

We'll have to make do with what we find at the market.

Paige?

I'll be right back.

Now, there's enough extra Plexiglas in the back to build a four-sided t*nk to encase the gel.

Now, you keep running the b*mb signature through the FBI database, just in case none of this works.

I need to get to this hatch here, to access the turbo pumps.

Problem is the rocket is surrounded by a lot of surveillance cameras.

But no manned patrol.

If we can bypass those security cameras, I can get right up to the launchpad.

But how do we do that?

Toby: Guys, this is a perfect time for a camera loop spoof.

Just like in Speed.

I still haven't seen the movie.

We hack a few seconds of innocuous footage of the rocket into the security system, have it repeat and then Happy can waltz in and out without anyone seeing.

Mission control is over a mile from the launchpad, so camera surveillance is all they're seeing of the rocket.

You know, I hate to point this out, but in Speed,

Dennis Hopper spotted that the film was looped; it didn't work.

Toby: That was only because there was repetitive patterns to the bus passengers' movement.

The rocket's a motionless, stand-alone object-- nothing around it's moving.

Walter does have the base's classified frequency from when they synced up his computer.

It'd be simple to use that to hack in and loop the camera feed.

Pop quiz, hotshot: there's a rocket with some bad fuel.

If it launches now, it crashes straight into the Pacific.

What do you do?

What do you do?

Why are you asking me that?

I thought we just made a plan.

Watch a movie sometime.

Happy: Okay, launchpad's a mile away.

You'd better get those security cameras looped by the time I get into frame.

(whirring)

Okay.

(blowing)

(ringtone plays)

(grumbles quietly)

I forgot to cancel my second follow-up text.

Do you want to read it to me?

It's worse than the first one.

(groans softly)

(sighs)

You know, I know you had a miserable time last night.

I'm smart enough to know when I'm floundering.

I'm sorry I did everything wrong.

You... didn't do everything wrong.

A lot of things.

The texts were definitely a mistake.

Really?

I told my friends that it went well because I was embarrassed.

I solved Fermat's Last Theorem when I was nine.

And I can't even solve basic human interaction.

It's disappointing.

(quietly): Okay.

Sylvester: Surveillance footage successfully looped and holding steady.

There she is.

Happy, according to the schematics, the access panel is off the third level.

Okay.

Opening it up.

I just have to calibrate the turbines to compensate for the diluted fuel.

Sylvester: Just get out of there before the countdown starts in approximately 15 minutes, because I need to turn off the loop before the engine starts smoking, or else mission control's gonna know something's up.

Merrick.

Man: Sir, this is the main security gate.

We need to lock down for launch.

So lock down, then.

We can't until your Scorpion tech team leaves the premises.

They haven't left yet?

Okay... I got everything on the list.

Great. Now fill up the water and gelatin mix in the drum with the proportions that I gave you.

The kaolin clay from the glass polishing kits acts quickly as a bonding agent.

Now, Happy, where do you keep that D-12 refrigerant hidden?

Um, I don't.

D-12's are illegal, and you told me you don't want it in the garage.

Happy...

In the piano.

Walter: Whew...

Toby: Needle meet haystack!

I found a match for the b*mb signature!

Walter: Great. Who is it?

Same type of b*mb was used five years ago by a Jeffrey Evans.

So-called "DNA bomber," because of a double-helix twist he added to his wires.

He's an antigovernment anarchist who hit a few federally owned communications towers.

So he's our guy.

Not likely.

DNA bomber d*ed in prison three years ago.

Jeffrey Evans.

I know that name.

And more importantly, I know the agent that spent a lifetime tracking him down and knows everything there is to know about how he constructed his bombs.

Are you about to say Merrick?

It all makes sense.

He has access to satellite data.

That's how he was able to keep an eye on us.

You said the dr*gs used to knock out Linda were government-issued.

Merrick could get his hands on it.

Toby: Most incriminating, he listened to Sylvester ramble about his stupid comics.

No one cares about that crap-- he only listened because he knew Happy and Cabe were in the fuel room to stop the launch.

He needed them to finish, 'cause he wanted the rocket sabotaged.

The only question is, why?

Uh, if Merrick is behind this...

...then we have a big problem.

Happy, Merrick is our saboteur and he is heading your way!

I can't leave until I have this fixed.

Drop the tools and step aside!

Okay, for the record, out of all the Homeland directors we've worked with, you were my favorite.

Just do what I say, or I'll press the dial and I'll blow up the girl.

And chances are she's next to one of your little friends right now.

Just take it easy.

Now, where is Gallo and the comic book kid?

Okay, this should be full shortly.

Once I open the canisters, we can get the gel down to 39 degrees in about a minute-- then you might be safe, no matter what Merrick does.

(phone ringing)

Speak of the devil.

Maybe I should talk to Merrick.

He's not insane, but he clearly had a laid-out plan where he planted some bug in the rocket so there'd be an excuse to bring Scorpion in.

He's calculating, but with an unknown motivation.

It-it's your mom.

Uh, answer it.

Uh, here.

(ringing continues)

Um...

Hi, Mom.

Woman: Hi, honey. How you doing?

I got your message this morning.

Sorry your date was so awful.

I-I was wrong about him.

He's... he's different.

But, um... you'd like him, Mom.

He's really smart and, uh... a good person.

Mom: Is everything okay?

You sound a little off.

Everything's fine.

I'm, um, I'm just watching The Notebook again.

(chuckling): Really?

You need to get out more.

Okay. I love you, Mom.

Love you, too.

Talk later.

(phone beeps)

Cabe, come in.

Merrick's got the detonator.

He's demanding that you get over here, or he's gonna use it.

I'm still not getting anything.

I need to know that you guys don't fix whatever it is you did to this craft!

It has to go down!

I don't want to hurt any more people than I have to.

Now, where is Gallo?

I would tell you if I knew where he was, okay?

Oh, wait. There he is.

(grunting)

Keep working on the turbine!

(grunts)

(yells in pain)

(grunting with effort)

Turbines are fixed!

(grunts)

(engines whirring, powering up)

Pull that trigger, I blow the b*mb.

(rumbling, whirring)

We all gotta get out of here.

The rocket's gearing up.

We'll get fried by its exhaust, instantly.

You heard her.

We need to go.

Give me the detonator-- now.

It's over.

You don't get it.

I can't go.

I can't let this rocket leave the atmosphere.

Why?

What the hell's your endgame?!

Who owns you?!

I've been on Beijing's payroll for years, but once I lost my director-level access to Intel, thanks to your team, I had to pay my debt back in other ways.

By k*lling people!

By doing what I had to, so they don't k*ll me!

(grunting)

Merrick!

Oh!

Cabe, he's dead.

And this thing is about to launch.

Let's go, or we're barbecued.

The fireball from this thing is going to k*ll us!

Run! Run! Let's go!

Come on! Come on!

(engines whirring, volume increasing)

It's taking off!

Give it everything you got, Happy!

Sylvester: Rocket's trajectory is straight.

It's not gonna crash!

The astronauts are in the clear!

So's Linda.

Good work, guys.

It's good. It's over.

(sighing with relief)

Thank God.

We should call the b*mb squad, have them safely remove the vest.

I am not responsible for explaining the gel or why we put her in a box.

Linda, thank you for trusting me to keep you safe.

(nervous chuckle)

(insistent beeping)

Oh, boy.

Linda: What's happening?

Why is it beeping?

The heat from the rocket chamber must've activated the detonator. It-it set off the fail-safe timer.

How much time do we have?

I don't know.

I can't see through the gel.

Paige: Walter...

Oh, God. (panting)

Can't you stop it?

No. I can't.

There's no shutting it down now.

(vest beeping, Linda panting)

Um...

Okay, okay, okay.

(grunts with effort)

Here, slide this under your vest.

(grunts)

There's enough room.

It should go through.

Careful.

It's heavy, though.

Okay?

Okay.

Yeah.

You got it?

Yeah.

Okay.

Ooh!

Oh... oh...

I dropped it!

Well, hurry up and lift it!

(grunting)

I'm trying. It's heavy!

Linda.

(panting anxiously)

Look out.

Walter!

(grunting)

Walter: Okay. Okay.

Now, I'm gonna slide this up under your vest, toward your neck. Okay?

Now, together, we'll hold it in place.

Now, I'm gonna go behind you and help you.

Toby: Walter, you're in a box with a b*mb!

She can't do this on her own! Okay?

I'm gonna stay, and you got to take cover. Now go!

Walter, there's got to be another way to do this, Walter!

No! There's not!

(vest beeping rapidly)

Now get out of here!

Walter...

I'm scared.

You know, when I'm uncertain, I-I calculate the odds.

This has a 48% chance of working.

That's... less than half.

You know, more than a quarter.

Oh. Okay.

And for the record, this was not the worst date that I've ever--

Oh!

Walter?

What happened over there?

Is everyone okay?

(coughs)

(coughs)

(grunts) That was a-a strange experience.

(siren approaching)

Couple broken ribs, bruised sternum-- I can't believe I'm saying this, but you'll be fine.

(sighs)

Slimy but fine.

(siren approaches, stops)

I already told you, if a genius doctor says I'm okay, I'm okay.

You really need to go in for observation, ma'am.

(sighs, groans)

Fine.

But, um, could you give us a minute, please?

Look, about today...

Oh, you've already thanked me.

You know, the truth is it was a... a team effort.

No.

You know how thankful I am.

But... you don't know how sorry I am.

I'm sorry I was so rude to you today.

You didn't deserve that.

Stressful circumstances.

Well...

I guess everything's comin' up roses from here on, right?

Blind dates can't seem scary after C-4 has exploded on top of you.

You're a very resilient woman.

Would you like to go to dinner with me again?

Oh. No.

Right.

Is this because of the b*mb?

That has a lot to do with it.

Okay.

Walter...?

You're a great guy.

I'm sure you'll make someone... very happy one day.

And for what it's worth, I know you didn't want your friends to know how awful the date was.

You shouldn't feel bad about that.

It's normal to want to save face.

It's funny.

Normal and I don't usually go together.

It's just, um...

(sighs)

Sylvester found my sister, and, uh, Toby and Happy have some strange connection.

I-I'm...

Even though I...

I belong here, I still stand out as different.

Truth is, I also worry sometimes about being alone.

Except, in my case, a ferret would eat me instead of a cat.

If that's your worry, you're not as far from normal as you think.

Emt: Time to go.

Take care of yourself, Mr. O'Brien.

Just remember, these game shows, they want to give you their money.

It's just like the racetrack.

You got to go in there with fake confidence.

Cockiness, even.

No. Cocky doesn't appeal to Joe Six-Pack.

Be bright but not too bright.

Remember, you're a man of the people.

I'm confused.

Cabe: Whew! Just got off the horn with Homeland.

They are freaking out about Merrick's treason.

I got to go down there and debrief 'em on everything he told me.

What happened to your hipster boots?

Those damn things almost got me k*lled.

Almost d*ed trying to be someone I'm not.

I got a VCR, I use Brylcreem, and I love John Wayne movies.

This is who I am.

The oldest man in the world.

Not old. Experienced.

And I'm fine with myself just the way I am.

I don't need a change.

Know what? I don't need to change either.

My brain is my personality.

I'm gonna crush that audition today because I'm gonna be the smartest person that they'll meet all day, and that will make me stand out.

Damn straight.

Come on. I'll give you a lift to your audition.

There's no way he's getting on that show.

Happy, Kovelsky's?

You buying?

No.

Got to return the satellite dishes.

I'll grab the van around back.

Okay, Ralph. We should go home.

Oh.

Thank you for today.

Yeah, of course.

Hey, Walter...

...your date only went badly because you were trying to control everything.

You did a full run-through at the restaurant, you autoprogrammed your texts...

Admittedly, a bad idea.

And honestly, the only thing more unnatural than your personality is you trying not to be that personality.

Paige, I can't, uh...

I can't act how I normally act, I-I can't say what I normally say, I can't even eat what I normally eat if I want people to be okay around me.

Yes, you can.

Linda was right-- you're weird.

Crazy weird.

But be okay with it, 'cause it's... it's great.

Um, okay, so we'll help you clean up the goop in the morning?

Oh, actually, no.

I was gonna make papier-mâché figures with the ballistic gel and then heat-dry them in a kiln, because the gel changes color when you heat it up to 200 degrees Fahrenheit.

(chuckles)

Even I can hear how bizarre that sounds.

We're in.

All right.

Let's go.

Walter: Yep.

Want to grab those?

Thanks.

(phone beeps, then auto-dials)

Hi, yes. I'd like to place a delivery order.

Okay, um, do you have fermented fish with cod oil?

Okay, yes, please check.