01x15 - Forget Me Nots

Episode transcripts for the TV show "</SCORPION>". Aired: September 2014 to April 2018.*
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An eccentric genius forms an international network of super-geniuses to act as the last line of defense against the complicated threats of the modern world.
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01x15 - Forget Me Nots

Post by bunniefuu »

Walter: My name is Walter O'Brien. I have the fourth highest IQ ever recorded: 197. Einstein's was 160.

When I was 11, the FBI arrested me for hacking NASA to get their blueprints for my bedroom wall. Now I run a team of geniuses, tackling worldwide threats only we can solve. Toby's our behaviorist. Sylvester's a human calculator. Happy, a mechanical prodigy. Agent Cabe Gallo's our government handler. And Paige? Well, Paige isn't like us. She's normal and translates the world for us while we help her understand her genius son.

Together, we are Scorpion.


I'm just saying, I don't think it's cheating.

Reverse it. Put her in the same situation.

Is it cheating now?

Damn.

It is cheating.

That's what I'm saying.

(alarms whooping)

Bluehawk's a go!

Code confirmed.

Target... target sequence confirmed!

What the hell, man?

We never even got a message order!

SAC, this is Silo 61.

We got birds ready to leave the nest.

Is this coming from you?

Time sequence complete.

Missiles One through Five enabling sequence commenced!

I don't care if wasn't unauthorized!

The damn system here thinks it is.

Six through Ten commenced!

I can't override!

SAC, we need a solution now.

Someone's about to prep our missiles for launch.

♪ ♪

If he gets this strike, Tobias Curtis, the kid from Coney Island, will win the PBA championship with a stunning perfect game.

Today, Earl Anthony.

How the hell do you know who Earl Anthony is?

You're, like, 20.

22. Now go.

40 feet from glory.

Ah, ah, ah...!

Ah...!

Aah!

Oh, my appendix.

You impressed?

Uh, Doc?

Glory denied.

No. No, no, no.

That box is holding it up.

All pins must fall. Dem's da rules.

I call shenanigans and tomfoolery.

What is that?

Just something I've been working on.

It's cold, hard metal, but it's somehow so delicate and... so beautiful.

Show is over.

Andrew.

It's Drew, actually.

Right.

Drew's short for what? Michael?

Hey.

Ralph's in the back. Before we get him, I, um, I want to show you something.

What's up?

I picked this up when I was trying out for the Portland Sea Dogs.

It's a school for gifted children.

Uh, why are you showing this to me?

I never said I was moving to Portland.

I know. Of course.

I just... I meant it when I said I wanted to provide options for you and Ralph.

Toby: I want you to push me down the ramp this time, Sylvester!

More normal options.

I-I'm not trying to push you.

I just wanted you to have as much data as possible, so that you can make an informed decision... if and when I get the call to pitch.

Okay. I'll take a look at it.

(expl*si*n)

If that wasn't clamped down, it would've gone right through that wall.

Cool!

School time, pal.

Okay. Enjoy the science fair, buddy.

Is there some rule against baking soda volcanoes?

No, it's the go-to for parents that can't think of anything more stimulating.

O... Kay!

Drew, he can't be late.

And you, good luck. (kisses)

There's, uh, no such thing as luck, only good science and math.

You could be nicer.

(laughs)

He wants Ralph to enter a project made of... (chuckles) .. papier-mâché and baking ingredients.

What is that?

"The Andersen P. Wollock School for Gifted Children. Portland, Maine."

It's just... Drew thought, for Ralph...

It's super preliminary, I'm just... I'm just doing my research.

Right.

(laughs) I mean, the odds of us ever moving...

This is where our life is.

But a special school... could be good for Ralph.

What do you think?

Portland is cold.

That's it?

And wet.

There's a slight chance we might be moving there, and that's all you have to say on the matter?

You don't want to hear my thoughts on the matter.

Really?

No, I... I think I do.

I think there's no logical reason why you should be taking that boy 3,000 miles away from his home.

No logical reason?

What about the fact his dad might move there and I think two parents might benefit Ralph?

Well, what daytime talk show did you hear that on?

Most people would take that as an insult, Walter, but I know you don't communicate like normal people, so I'm going to give you a pass.

But I also know that you didn't have an ideal relationship with your father, but that doesn't mean Ralph shouldn't have a chance.

Drew is an adolescent.

He plays a game for a living.

He's Ralph's dad!

That is mere biology.

It takes more than fathering to be a father.

By the time Ralph is 18, he'll probably have to take care of Drew.

You asked me for my thoughts on the matter.

I gave them to you.

Fine.

Hey!

How come a bunch of geniuses can't answer the phone?

I don't carry my phone on me.

You know... Radiation.

I was welding.

Mine's in my bag.

Couldn't hear it over the rocket.

Cabe: Of course.

What about you, Doc?

I keep mine off. I owe a bookie.

Turn it on.

Now gear up.

Director Merrick wants us at Homeland, stat.

Let's roll.

Merrick: There was an attempted hack of a vital federal institution yesterday morning.

Unsuccessful but barely.

Our techs have been trying to find the perpetrators, along with CIA and FBI, but we want your expertise.

What federal institution?

That's need-to-know.

Was it one facility or multiple targets?

That's need-to-know.

I need to know why you're being so jerky.

Zip it.

Walter: We have half a hack here.

The redactions on this screen-sh*t cut off data that would let us know what the culprit was going after.

Not your concern.

I just need you to backtrack and find out who's responsible.

Rest is classified.

Cabe, do you know what's going on?

I do, but I'm not at liberty to divulge.

Just start hitting the keys and see what you find out.

Sure thing.

There.

That's better.

Merrick: Hey!

What the hell do you think you're...?

Hold on, this is m*llitary.

Someone was trying to hack a nuclear silo.

That's enough.

Horse is already out of the barn, sir.

Okay. Fine. Now you know.

Hey, you spoke before exhaling.

That's called subliminal Carson-Proxy.

You withhold breath, you withhold information.

What else are you keeping from us?

m*ssile locations are coded one through 50 to signify what state it's in.

However, the un-redacted cipertext notes 61.

There's not 61 states, which means that...

We keep secret nukes on foreign land.

Walter: It's logical.

Our allies want protection, we want weaponry close to our enemies.

Oh, let me guess: uh, Philippines...

Finland... Iceland...

He blinked at Iceland.

Iceland.

Walter: So... how much time do we want to waste before you tell us what we'll just figure out?

16 years ago, Milosevic had his sights on Kosovo.

The U.S. had to step in to prevent a slaughter.

But because of political reasons, we knew we had to do this one OTR.

On The Real?

Cabe: Off The Record.

Clinton met with the Kosovan president secretly to set up plans for m*llitary aid far beyond what went public.

This is a clandestine sit-down at a small Burbank motel.

This is confiscated security footage from that day.

The sh**t tried to take out both leaders.

The hit was presumably by Milosevic loyalists in the Kosovan government who spilled the beans about the OTR.

Hold on. There was an attempt on Clinton no one knows about?

Actually, 28 people know.

Now, 33.

Cabe: During the melee, Clinton was whisked off, a Kosovan guard was k*lled and a Secret Service agent, Bruce Jones, who was carrying the football, was sh*t in the chest.

And then it went missing?

Not good. What's "the football"?

It's a briefcase that follows POTUS everywhere.

It's cuffed to the Secret Service.

It has the locations of our hidden silos around the world and a detonator the president can use to activate a remote launch.

Toby: Doctors had to remove the case from Bruce's wrist to operate.

What did they do with it?

Deposed medical staff said they put it on the ground next to the gurney while they were triaging the patient.

So if someone took the football, they would have the detonator and launch codes.

Cabe: Codes were changed immediately, but the location of our hidden arsenal would remain in the hands of whoever had possession of the football.

Merrick: Our theory was that the sh**ting served as a subterfuge to get to the football.

But years passed without incident.

So we assumed it was lost, tossed away accidentally in all the disorder.

Until this hack attempt.

Cabe: Whoever has it...

has waited 16 years for their capabilities to advance to where they could hack into the system and dupe it into believing accurate launch codes had been entered.

They came so close today.

They won't be denied, because they know the devastation they can cause.


Merrick: Once a m*ssile's prepped for launch, all that's left is to press the football's remote button.

No one can track this back to the t*rrorists in time.

Not even us.

So the only sh*t is to find the football, so even if they do hack a m*ssile silo, they won't have access to the launch button.

It's been 16 years.

What makes you think that we can find the football now?

Well, Mr. Negative... for starters, you have a witness.

That agent who caught a b*llet.

According to this report, it says he saw "shapes of people running around the hospital" before going under for surgery.

And that helps us how?

It's a sign that there's a memory in there.

You never lose memories, just the ability to access them.

Did you go to Harvard Medical School?

Okay. Let's go.

Eh, don't forget your keys, boss.

Happy: Nice catch.

How do you stand working with them?

They're an acquired taste.

Doctor: Despite him looking normal, you need to be prepared.

His symptoms are like those of dementia-- confusion, short-term and long-term memory loss, outbursts, anti-social behavior, aggression...

I can't blame the guy.

He's former m*llitary, charged with protecting the president-- now he lives here?

Man: Get out of here, lady!

(clatters)

Paige: Oh, my God.

He's in a mood today.

That better be pudding.

What do you jerks want?

Copy that.

NORAD's detected an ongoing hack attempt right now.

How's hacking Bruce's brain going?

Well, Toby's tried hierarchal inference techniques, recall exercises--

He's down to parlor tricks now.

Counting down.

Three, two, one.

We're awake.

You're back at the hospital.

The sh**ting just happened.

Images around you are getting clearer.

There's people near the football.

Now tell me what you see.

I... see...

...you got lips like a girl.

That's it, I'm done with this guy.

Let me hit him with a wrench.

Maybe it'll jar something loose.

Take it easy.

He's sick.

Bruce, you said you'd try to remember.

What do you remember, Pops, the Alamo?

I'm starting to like Happy's plan.

I got to go, I got a briefing with Clinton in an hour.

Walter, this is cruel.

He still thinks he's in Secret Service.

Exactly.

That means he still has access to that time in his life.

And there might be a way to get him more lucid to remember it all, but it is... it is dangerous.

More dangerous than a nuclear b*mb?

The research that I have been doing for my sister has led me to some incredible papers on extreme transcranial direct current stimulation.

You want to juice the guy?

What do you mean, "juice him"?

Apply this high-level electric current to certain areas of his brain to kick it to a substantially higher function level.

It makes people, for a few hours, a much better version of themselves-- their brains more genius-like-- works faster-- and so do their bodies.

If there is a memory inside Bruce that can help us, it might help to give it a little... jolt.

I don't think Mr. Jones is in any condition for something like that.

You look like my Aunt Philomena.

Take me home.

What if one of us goes first, to show you it's safe?

Bruce, you are a patriot.

We're trying to catch t*rrorists.

Okay, great-- Toby, I'll go first.

(laughs sarcastically)

Hell, no.

Your neurons are packed so densely, they could permanently fuse.

Then jump-start me.

This is effectively experimental and definitely reckless, especially to someone in Bruce's condition and to you.

We have no choice.

There's a nuclear silo under cyber-att*ck.

Finding the football is the only sh*t to stop a launch.

So wire me up.

Is that a car battery?

It's AAA approved, so if we k*ll you, you get a free tow to the morgue.

Toby: Okay, these electrodes will cause your neurons' resting membrane potential to depolarize, which allows for spontaneous cell f*ring.

In short, your brain is gonna work better.

Or not at all.

All right, we're ready, so here we go.

Happy?

I'm not turning this thing on.

It could end up being a criminal act.

You're the mechanic. You're the doctor.

Oh, for Pete's sake.

Remind me not to put you in charge of my living will.

O-O-Okay.

I am gonna turn you up... now.

Somebody should be saying this is crazy, right?

'Cause it is.

Toby: Gonna start you at 500 milliamps.

Yep, yep.

Feel that.

Toby: Sorry.

It was just a tingle, it's all right.

Toby: Now I'm gonna charge you up to 1,200.

Okay, I think that's been long enough.

You okay?

Yeah, there's a buzzing in my head, and there's a taste of metal in my mouth.

Yeah, those are normal side effects.

Nothing normal about this.

All right, I'm gonna slowly dial you down now.

Well, Bruce, the good news is--

I'm alive.

The bad news is-- it didn't do anything.

Cabe, think fast.

Welcome to us.

♪ Scorpion 1x15 ♪
Forget Me Nots
Original Air Date on January 19, 2015

Toby: You're wheeled in on a gurney.

Triage nurses are barking orders.


Nurse: One line of saline, wide open!

Nurse 2: Remove this case for me so I can get the I.V. in.

Then they remove the football to run an arterial line.

Nurse: Little bit sluggish. Let's get him on the monitor.

Someone picked it up.

Hey, don't cut off the juice, yet.

You're just starting to see stuff.

Any more than that in a three-day period could be fatal, especially for him.

What exactly did you see?

I saw a man... w-with a blue finger.

Regular hand, b-but... one blue finger.

Like "my pen exploded in my hand" blue, or like Papa Smurf blue?

I don't know, Cupcake, it was, uh, it was blue.

Bluish.

I didn't see his face.

There's too much stuff coming at me.

What the hell did you guys do to me?

Mapplethorpe?

Wait, uh, what's that supposed to mean?

Was it... Was there a Mapplethorpe print on the wall? Near the thief?

I don't know.

I'm so confused.

The procedure can cause neural backfires, these quick memory flashes, visuals, sounds-- it might be more intense for someone with your condition.

Give it time.

Okay, leave him alone for a b*at.

Why don't you come over here.

What the hell does he mean, a guy with one blue finger?

Well, it's probably not a glove design.

It was 70 degrees the day of the sh**ting.

No one was wearing hand gear.

According to the report Merrick showed us, there were eight Kosovan bodyguards, eight Secret Service, two presidents, so almost 20 people running around, diving.

So in the mad scramble after the sh**ting, someone might have hurt their hand.

A bruised or broken finger could appear discolored.

We need to see the hospital records from that day.

If someone got a busted finger and got medical treatment, that's our guy.

Since this was an OTR, that would mean all the hospital records would have been confiscated by the Feds, but we'd still have copies at Homeland.

Paige, you stay here, make sure he's okay.

Happy, you're the toughest on the team.

You hang back in case Bruce gets worked up again.

Let's go.

Toby: What, these are all off-the-record maneuvers no one knows about?

We don't digitize it so guys like you can hack in.

I hate government.

Then don't cash your federal paycheck.

Walter: Knee fractures, forearm abrasions, head sutures, no hand injuries.

Merrick texted.

NORAD estimates that the hackers will be in control of the silo's mainframe in less than two hours.

Um, Cabe... if the hackers do end up launching, like, a bunch of missiles, will we, you know, get a heads up?

Because I got to figure that L.A. is a target, and I would not fare well in an apocalypse.

This is weird.

Secret Service Agent Khara was given nitroglycerin for a preexisting heart condition aggravated by the sh**ting incident.

Yeah, that's protocol for cardiac episodes.

Yes, but people with heart conditions can't be in the Secret Service, so why'd he lie to his doctor?

Think I know.

Where you going?

I can find out if Agent Khara's our thief.

I just need a bucket of ice water.

So what's it take for a guy to get something to eat around here?

Thanks, honey.

I know he's sick, but if he calls me "honey" again, I am gonna clock him.

Take a breath.

You and, uh, Drew are moving to Portland?

Toby eavesdropped again.

No opinion on the matter?

Well, Portland's cold.

That i...

Th-That is the same useless information Walter gave me.

Okay, facts aren't useless.

They're the foundation of rational thought.

And I think Ralph will be bored there.

Uh, well, you know, I think...

I think you geniuses hide behind a pile of facts and figures when you don't want to engage in something... unpleasant, like the idea of Ralph and me leaving.

The more something bothers or scares you, the more you hide behind data.

Your sandwich is ready.

Good talk.

Bruce?

Bruce...?

Uh, Happy... we may have a problem.

What's going on?

He's gone.

You lost him?

I was making a sandwich.

Where is this guy?

I gotta go.

Sylvester: What?!

Go where?

Dodge City, Kansas.

To the bathroom.

I got my hand in ice water.

That only works with warm water.

I'm about to disprove that myth all over your leather interior.

Homeland tracked the guy's cell to this block.

He'll turn up soon, just be patient.
Cabe: Wow. Colors are so vibrant. (chuckles)

Toby: That's because the recharge we gave you has the electrical impulses hitting the visual cortex of your brain faster than it has in decades.

Oh. Oh, oh, oh, there he is, there he is.

Hey, hold this.

Toby: Hey, Nalin!

Nalin Khara, right?

Hey, it's Tobias Curtis.

I worked with your brother back in DC.

Hi.

Hey.

What are you doing?

I'm dropping your hand temperature.

Let go.

No...

Let go of my hand. - No. Let go of my hand!

Cabe! Cabe! Let go of my hand!

Agent Gallo, Homeland Security.

Let this man hold your hand.

What the hell?

Don't worry, it doesn't mean we're going steady.

And...

Oop, we're done.

What's wrong with you, man?

More like, what's wrong with you?

You got Raynaud's phenomenon.

Vessel spasms that constrict blood flow to a digit, creating that blue hue... that's triggered by direct cold and stressful situations.

Like stealing a very important briefcase.

Your condition was set off, you got some nitroglycerin, and then you stole the football.

Toby: We caught you, pal.

Blue-handed.

Seriously?

Been waiting an hour to say that, Sly, shut up.

Okay, I will tell you everything.

But you need to understand...

Hey, hey, hey!

(car horn honks)

Holy friggin' crap.

His motor neurons are f*ring on all cylinders from the juice.

(horns honking)

It's like he's 25 again.

Whatever you did to my brain... it worked.

Cabe: Question I keep going back to is: why would a Secret Service agent with a perfect record steal the football?

So, I did some digging into someone we never even considered 16 years ago.

At the time of the assassination attempt, you still had family in Pakistan: grandmother, two uncles, despite having no priors, were locked up as political dissidents and facing death.

Then, in the months after the football went missing, charges were dropped.

Someone found the weakness in a Secret Service agent, targeted you, and made you do their bidding.

Am I missing anything?

Cabe: I've got the Pentagon breathing down my neck for updates, and the only lead we got to stop nuclear winter isn't talking.

And he won't. He's motivated to protect his family.

If whoever's behind these att*cks finds out he cooperated, they're dead.

I need you to dig into your bag of tricks, Walter.

We need to find a way to cr*ck him.

No luck at the pizza place.

You?

Zilch.

Where do you go if you're a former agent who just got his brain blasted?

(phone ringing)

Hey, Walt.

Bruce?

Yeah, get him together and meet us at Whitehull Hospital.

I have an idea. And hurry.

Happy: Okay.

You didn't tell him about Bruce.

I kind of want to keep my job.

We're screwed.

This realty sign...

"17 Maplethorpe Road."

Isn't Maplethorpe...?

What Bruce was mumbling about after we juiced him.

He wasn't talking about art, he was telling us where he wanted to go.

I'll drive!

(engine revving)

That was terrifying.

I'm never letting you drive my car again.

I found him, didn't I?

What the hell...?

Man: Already told you, sir.

No one named Lorraine lives here.

Hey... It's okay.

He's with us.

Take your damn hands off me.

It's all right, Bruce.

Let's take a walk and get a breath.

Look, he means no harm.

He just doesn't know where he is sometimes-- he's sick.

I'm not sick at all... right now.

I just thought she'd be here, that's all.

That's why you duped us and ran away?

To see a girl?

It's none of your damn business.

Doesn't matter, anyway.

She's gone... again.

Who?

Look, I'm grateful that I got my mind back, okay?

Short-lived though it may be.

I just wish some of my memories had stayed gone, I guess.

Which memories?

Who were you looking for here?

Her name is Lorraine.

She was a White House secretary.

I liked her.

I loved her.

I didn't want her to see me become what I am, so I... I asked 'em if I could take my treatment out here in Los Angeles, and I, uh...

I left without saying a word.

I heard she moved out here some time back.

I never checked up, but, uh... now that some of my memories are coming back... it's like it's happening to me all over again.

It's as... painful as it was the first time.

Just take me home, okay? Please?

About that...

The magnetoencephalography machine will map when your memories are activated.

Tech: Almost set.

Can you guys tell me what the emergency is?

Like, um, is this guy a spy or something?

That's need-to-know.

Y-You know, this-this isn't going to work, guys.

I've already told you everything I can recall.

No, I know, but sometimes memories can be awoken with the proper stimulant.

All right, tell me, Bruce, do you recognize this guy?

No.

Take a closer look...

...and try aging him down about 16 years.

Khara?

Is that you?

I don't remember the last time I saw you.

The last time you saw him... was when he stole the football, Bruce.

You son of a bitch.

You took it all from me.

You took my career, you took my life!

You took her!

Focus on his hand, Bruce.

Focus-- allow your memories of that day to return.

You're in the hospital, you're getting prepped for surgery...

One line of saline, wide open!

Doctor: GSW to the torso!

Then a hand reached down and took that case.

Toby: It was Khara.

You saw him.

What happens now?

Doctor: GSW to the torso!

I don't know.

Uh, y-yes, you do.

It's in there, Bruce.

He's not gonna tell us, so you need to.

I can't... I can't remember. I'm sorry.

The man doesn't know anything.

Just let him be and move on.

Khara: There's nothing any of us can do now.

It's done.

It's done.

What did you just say?

Bingo.

Okay, talk to me, Bruce.

Tell me, what did you remember?

Doctor: GSW to the torso!

Nurse: Little bit sluggish. Let's get him on the monitor.

He was leaving... then he called someone.

I heard him.

It's done.

Come on, focus, Bruce. What did you hear?

I heard sounds.

Uh-uh... tones.

Like tones from dialing a phone?

I think so.

Okay, hold that thought!

(Muzak playing)

Bruce heard Khara place a call to his conspirator... then, all we need to do is reverse engineer the number he dialed and that should lead us to whoever has the case.

How can you possibly identify push-button tones 16 years later?

His memory's tucked away in a cranial fold somewhere.

Everything you read, see, or hear-- it's stored away, like in a computer, and we just need to access that file.

Is all of this really necessary?

Sylvester: Sensory recreation stimuli to get you back to the exact place you were where the football was stolen.

Similar suit to what you were wearing, hospital Muzak...

What the hell?

Toby: Oh, it's iodine.

They used this to prep you for surgery.

The olfactory sense is the strongest memory trigger.

Since we juiced you, your temporal lobe has just been itching to reminisce with us.

We just gotta goose it.

So, Bruce, close your eyes, exhale...

(inhales, exhales)

...focus.

Walter: Assume Khara dialed local.

Cell phones weren't prevalent 16 years ago, and he wasn't gonna overnight the football, so... the most popular area codes in L.A. at the time were 323, 310, and 213.

(three tones sound)

(a different trio of tones sound)

Doctor: GSW to the torso!

Nurse: Little bit sluggish. (three tones sound) Let's get him on the monitor.

Any of those sound familiar?

The first one.

323 it is.

Seven more mystery numbers to go.

(one tone sounds)

No.

Toby: Concentrate on his phone... just the phone.

Doctor: GSW to the torso.

Nurse: ...little bit sluggish. (one tone sounds) Let's get him on the monitor.

Yes.

(two tones sound)

Yes.

(one tone sounds)

That one.

(tone sounds)

Bruce: No...

(another tone sounds)

Yes.

Walter: 323-248-8049.

We got it!

We just gotta find out who that number belonged to 16 years ago.

I'm working on it.

Cabe: Update!

Hackers are into the Icelandic silo.

The nuclear launch sequence has been activated for a m*ssile aimed at St. Petersburg, Russia.

Right now, personnel are doing all they can to stop the missiles. They will fail.

Walter: How long do we have?

T-minus 30 until ready for launch.

So, in 30 minutes, all the t*rrorists need to do is push a button in a briefcase?

Why Russia? What's the endgame?

It's logical. It's brilliant. For decades, t*rrorists have been fighting us, getting knocked down, rebuilding, then coming back at us.

But if a U.S. nuke hits a Russian city-- they're gonna sit back and watch us destroy each other.

There's only one way to fix this.

Stop the bastards from ever pushing that button.

To do that, we need to know what that phone number leads to.

Got it! It belongs to a defunct non-profit that takes care of poor Middle Eastern children.

Well, it's not the first time that a fake charity has been used to launder money for a t*rror1st group.

This one's headed up by one Nadim Gadhi.

Last known address?

Sylvester: He's in a boathouse at the harbor.

19 minutes away.

By the time we arrive, we'll only have nine minutes until the nukes are ready to go. We gotta move!

(tires screech)

Cops are a few minutes out.

Walter, Bruce-- need you.

Toby, need you in case Bruce has any issues.

The rest of you, remain alert.

("Chicken Dance" ringtone playing loudly)

(phone stops ringing)

You're the one who wanted me to keep my phone on.

(g*n clicking in distance)

(g*nf*re)

Homeland! Freeze!

You all right?

Fine. Let's go.

Game on!

Oh, God, she's driving again.

Happy, I'm not buckled.

Just wait!

Wait till I'm buckled! I'm not buckled!

Happy, Happy, Happy! Safety first!

What did we talk about?


(engine revving)

(train whistle blowing in distance)

If we split up, we cover more ground.

All right. Okay.

(grunts)

Walter, you all right?

We got less than two minutes. We gotta get that case.

Homeland! Freeze!

Drop your w*apon! Drop your w*apon!

(train whistle blowing in distance)

Put down the case.

Set down the case and step away from it!

Cabe: Put down the case and step away from it!

(train whistle blowing, crossing bell clanging)

No! No!

Toby, stop! It's electrified!

Best thing about America?

The trains always run on time.

(horn blowing)

In less than a minute, those nukes are ready to launch.

If that train runs over the case, the button will depress.

Walter: And millions will die.

(train horn blasting)

All right, the fence is electrified.

We can't climb it.

Happy, where's the nearest junction box?

It's on the other side of the yard.

I'll never get there in time.

It's a quarter mile down and around the fence.

Normally, it would take less than two minutes to get down there, but due to the speed of the train, we only have 45 seconds, Walter!

(train horn blaring, switch clacking)

I've got an idea!

What are you doing? There's no way that magnet's strong enough to stop that train!

And that case is aluminum, it's not magnetic!

Of course! The track is lined with intermittent shoe brakes that'll stop the train in case of an emergency.

It's activated by electromagnetic coils.

She's using the magnet to reverse polarities and flip the switch!

(horn blowing)

Time's up-- missiles are ready for launch!

Uh...

You did it!

(siren whoops, indistinct radio communication)

The launch sequence has been shut down and the feds have tracked Gadhi's online communications.

Interpol's picking up his pals overseas as we speak.

Feel free to take a bow.

You all just saved the world.

And you took me out of the line of fire like I was POTUS.

You're still a hell of an agent.

My orders are to dispose of this.

And we are to act like this never happened.

OTR.

O... T... R.

Do the honors.

Bruce: I've been tough on you.

Go get 'em.

Bruce: Let's see what you got.

Okay-okay, okay.

Yeah!

Okay.

(sighing): Okay...

That's it. Mm-hmm.

(grunts)

That felt good.

Sexy man!

All right, let's pack it up and head home.

Shotgun.

Come on.

Walter: You were pretty incredible today.

Only because you juiced my brain.

You know, I work out, try to take care of myself.

It never crosses my mind I'm getting older.

But you never know how far you slipped down that mountain till you look back up and see where you once were.

Enjoy your youth while you can, kid.

One day you'll blink... you'll be me.

You know, I hate to spoil your moment of self-reflection, but what we did to you wore off hours ago.

Your heroics out here-- that was all you.

You don't say.

I protected the president once.

Thank you for allowing me to feel useful again.

I wish I could say I wouldn't forget it, but, uh...

There's advancements in neurological science every year.

You never know.

Yes, I do.

And so do you.

Make as many great memories as you can.

'Cause at the end of the day, we don't get to decide the ones we keep, huh?

Lorraine?!

H-How did you...?

We just found a t*rror1st after 16 years.

We can find a secretary.

She's a strong memory in you.

Maybe having her back in your life will help you hold on a little more.

Well, I'm gonna try.

I'm gonna try like hell.

How about we hold off cleaning until tomorrow, huh?

I second that motion.

Hear, hear.

Paige: Thanks.

Crazy day, huh?

(quiet laugh) Crazy seems to be the norm.

That's an astute observation. (anxious laugh)

I, um... my assessment of Portland, uh, was, um, not the proper response for your query.

Oh.

Okay.

Yeah, I thought it might also be useful for you to know that the University of Southern Maine also has, um, solid research facilities-- not like UCLA, but solid-- so it might be good for Ralph.

Also they have oceanography clubs for minors.

Uh, average snowfall is 61 inches.

There are over 3,000... uh, islands off the coast, so Ralph could explore, and-and-and it also brings in 90% of the nation's lobster, so, you know, crustaceans--

I'm sorry. Is this... (stammers) .. funny?

No. It's just a lot of facts and figures.

Of course. I care about giving you a complete answer to your question.

Oh, I know.

I know you care.

No. You know, I, um, I care about, um, more than just you having the, um, the facts and-and... full statistics for Ralph.

I, um... I care about Ralph.

You were right.

I don't, um, I never had a real relationship with my father.

And I know I'm not Ralph's, but I-I must serve... a purpose in his life, because he serves such an important, uh, one in mine, and if he left, then, uh...

I-I know I said being human wasn't something I wanted.

But since I met your son, I know that's not entirely true.

These last few months, I've been... less me.

And that's made me a better person.

So, no, I don't want him to leave.

I, uh... care about him.

And you.

Those are the last facts that I have to say.

And, well, yeah, so, okay.

Walter?

Yeah?

I'd miss you, too.

Hey!

Look, Mom. Check it out!

Drew: Guess who won the science fair.

No way!

That's incredible!

And guess what.

Billy from class asked me to his birthday.

Can I go?

You were invited to a party?

Of course you can go.

Hey, what do you say we give this engine a kick?

I mean... unless you're in a rush to go?

No.

No, I don't want to go.

Okay, let's go.
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