02x08 - Area 51

[bunniefuu]

Cabe: Fish.

Okay.

Poodle.

Yikes.

What's this?

Establishing Cabe's personality baseline.

Spider.

(chuckles) Wow.

I'm researching the use of behaviorism into predicting the future.

I say if you know the psychological ground floor of a subject, its tendencies or its maladies, I'm postulating you can predict future behavior.

Test will be if he pulls another shocked face, will he see my foot flying toward his butt?

I'll expect it.

Paige: Why the sudden interest in predicting the future?

Where's Walter?

He's at the hospital, visiting Megan.

Oh, there a connection there?

Megan and predicting the future?

Paige, you just leave the shrinking to me.

When did this begin?

A few days ago.

Respiratory infection, for someone with MS, is very... concerning.

Did the doctors give you an antibiotic cocktail?

They just put me on one.

Plus 100 milligrams of prednisone.

You know, an infection like this can lead to sepsis or low blood pressure?

Yes, Walter.

Yeah.

And I'm on several I.V. drips to make my heart b*at harder.

Did they give you, uh...

I knew the minute I told you, you would start spouting research and second-guessing.

Do I do that?

It's under control.

Okay, get some rest.

Check in later.

Okay.

Walter: You know, I'm, uh...

I'm baffled that you didn't inform me of her condition sooner.

This only started a few days ago, and Megan didn't want you to divert your attention over to her.

I need more time.

And in a few weeks, I'll have the rocket finished and submitted to the Karman Prize.

And then when I win, I'll have an influx of 50 million in cash to buy equipment to finish my research to save her.

Walter, the doctors aren't discussing her condition in terms of weeks.

We don't give in.

No, you stay with her today, and you make sure that her treatment stays aggressive.

Isn't that up to Megan?

Any sign that her blood pressure is getting too low, then you tell them to increase her meds or add a new agent like phenylephrine.

Are you listening to me?

Can we take a breath and think about her and her quality of life?

More important... is preserving her life and her mind.

We do whatever it takes.

Promise me you will do the right thing.

I promise.

All right.

So, the initial plan, uh, for the project budgeted at 15 months, but given Megan's condition, it will have to be accelerated to being underway within three, and then Megan's life will be saved.

Questions?

Yes?

Well, what exactly is the plan to save her life?

Yes.

So, uh, I am going to download her brain, her thoughts, her consciousness, her memories, preserve them digitally, until I can find another vessel after her body fails.

Not in three months.

Maybe 20 years.

Megan does not have that long.

So, in order to save her mind, I need to build something that does not exist.

It's a-a data server with the capacity to store the contents of the human brain.

That's at least 50 petabytes of storage capacity.

The immediate issue is funding.

The Karman prize, uh, won't judge for months, so I need starter capital, which means I'll have to take on other jobs, so I may not be here.

We all want to do anything we can to help, Walter, but...

I think our primary question is how are you doing emotionally?

Oh, I'm fine.

I figure it's gonna run me a million per petabyte.

About that.

So I'm gonna go call our wealthiest clients, see what I can't drum up.

He's officially gone through the looking glass.

I don't like the way he's handling this.

I don't think any of them are gonna be able to handle it.

I think that...

What?

Who the hell is that?

Identify yourself.

Mark Willis, Central Intelligence.

CIA.

Explains how he came in like a cloud.

Dark cloud.

Homeland's agreed to lend out Scorpion's services to my unit.

Oh, lucky us.

For a significant payday.

We're listening.

This is the 27B/6.

Brand-new flagship of an airline known as Integrity Airlines.

No such thing.

It's top-secret, servicing only the CIA.

You guys have a secret airline?

What kind of snacks are we talking?

Or is that a secret, too?

Integrity functions independently of any commercial or m*llitary frequency.

We have our own call signs, and we are undetectable by radar.

Nine hours ago, this plane was on a routine mission and went missing.

Define routine.

Running money, weapons, copy machines or other tools of country-building or takeover.

What?

That's not how the CIA would use a secret plane?

Last location ping?

Over Fort Collins, Colorado.

There's no indication of a crash and no response to radio calls.

So h*jacked?

Doubtful.

Then the pilot stole it.

Our men, highly trained, with spotless records.

Sly, anything?

Sylvester: A plane heading west wouldn't double back and risk suspicion by pinging the same location twice.

Okay, I'm running an analysis on the sound package from the last ping.

The plane was tilting down when the last ping registered.

A plane of that weight, cruising at that speed, yields a possible landing location of...

Oh, my God.

That's Coughlan Air Force Base.

That's Area 51.

Secret spy mission in Area 51-- spooky.

No pun intended.

The base and several miles surrounding it are protected from eyes in the sky by ambient microwaves as an active defense system.

It disrupts satellite, cell and radio communication.

It's all a part of their moratorium on communication systems that haven't been strictly sanctioned by the base.

Cone of silence.

The better to keep their secrets safe.

Am I the only one?

Area 51, aliens?

A plane like this would run quiet, probably use a tungsten alloy in the fuselage for its vibration stabilizing system.

I can't confirm or deny that.

Get us down to that desert.

I can build a device to detect the ionic gamma ray signature of the tungsten alloy and find its exact location.

Your superiors at Homeland will be told you're upgrading our data systems in Barstow.

I never came in here.

The size of your payday will ensure you take special care to see that doesn't bother you.

$50,000.

$300,000.

150, final offer.

Happy: Sold.

Make my check out to Walter O'Brien for Megan.

Yeah, ditto.

Same here.

I'll take care of it.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Excellent.

Can get closer to my research funding goals.

No, “thank you”? Uh...

We just made a moving gesture for Megan and...

We're helping him solve a problem.

He needs X amount of dollars; we chipped away.

Math is math.

Cabe: I think the team's gonna need some hand-holding regarding Megan.

You deal with them, and I'll take care of Walter.

Yeah.

♪ ♪

Okay, the gamma ray spectrometer is operational.

Sylvester: Just don't get too close to the base. You don't know what they're working on.

Or who.

Aliens again?

Don't know.

I'm sorry, can you can this blather?

Sylvester, can I get an update on Megan, please?

Yeah, well, I don't really know how well she's responding to the treatment, but the doctor seems to think she'll be... (static)

We've hit the cone of silence.

You've asked Walter how he's processing Megan's illness.

How are you handling it?

I'm a physician.

Illness, death, grief-- it's really just an influx of stress-related, pro-inflammatory cytokines which eventually dissipate.

So a friend's illness, possible death, is... it's no more than just the... clinical release of chemicals?

No, no, I'm not discounting the emotional.

Whether it's Bonanno's Four Trajectories or the five stages of Kubler-Ross, it's a natural process.

Anything natural, to me, is fine.

What's with the envelopes?

Predictions of the future.

I think I got something.

The photon energy is off the chart.

Okay, hit the brakes!

In your face, unfindable spy plane.

Let's leave.

There's no tail number.

We're being paid a bundle-- let's confirm that's our bird.

♪ ♪

No one here!

Incredible photography unit on the underside of this beast.

You could take a portrait of a flea at 30,000 feet.

This all beyond state-of-the-art, and... all hollow.

I'm assuming hidden compartments, in case anybody's ever searched.

They made an effort to steal it and then just... abandon it?

I don't think so.

I think they're coming back.

There's a whole blood bank down here.

All AB-negative with rare proteins.

That's for someone with aplastic anemia who needs regular transfusions.

That's neither of the pilots.

Not according to their dossiers.

Just a guess here, but those pilots might be picking up a passenger who isn't coming aboard voluntarily.

I got chloroform and zip ties.

This isn't just a missing plane; it's a kidnapping.

Remember how you said it couldn't be one of your pilots?

Well, good chance it is-- so good luck with that.

We'll take our cashier's check now.

What if I doubled the fee?

No!

Keep talking.

This gets out, the program is exposed and years of data go sour.

If you find the agents, find their victim and figure out where they plan on taking him: 300 grand.

Send in your own guys!

They'll be long gone before I can get a team assembled.

Then get the base commander at Coughlan to handle it.

That also exposes the program.

350 grand.

Wait...

Deal!

No!

Listen, you know what?

I'll do it myself.

You heard Sylvester-- Megan is not improving.

And I need the money to complete my research.

We'll all do it.

Good. Thank you.

“The CIA dude will rope us into something more dangerous than finding a plane”"

I hate to say I told you so.

Why are you doing this?

I want it on record that I predicted that getting led around by the prospect of a payday is bad business.

Especially with the CIA involved.

Toby: We are gonna sneak into one of the most heavily guarded patches of U.S. soil, with no form of communication to track down an unknown kidnapping victim, who may or may not already be in the hands of rogue CIA agents.

Yep.

We're going into Area 51.

♪ Scorpion 2x08 ♪
Area 51
Original Air Date on November 9, 2015

All right, so, one more time for the slightly less brilliant?

So the people that work on this base are experts in fields with countless applications-- most m*llitary, all dangerous in the wrong hands.

And that's who they're coming to kidnap? An expert?

Well, you can't just walk into Area 51.

So they stole the only plane in the world that can fly under Area 51's security.

Any clue why we don't just stay here and wait till they come back?

Yeah, I'm not so hot into sneaking into mysterious Air Force bases.

Cabe: And I'll wager the rogue agents are armed.

I don't want to get into a gunfight.

We know the target has a rare blood type, so we determine his identity through the base's medical records and we track down where he works on the base in order to rescue him.

What if they already got their target?

The CIA agents got here before us.

Could be six hours, could be 30 minutes.

Cabe: But we still don't know how they're getting on the base.

If they're tunneling, that's gonna take a while.

Subterfuge, also a time suck.

We got a sh*t at shutting this thing down.

Yeah, but because of the cone of silence, we can't just hack the base's medical records externally, so we're heading in.

Now, you guys find him, warn him and get him to safety.

While you're just catching some rays?

Well, I'm happy to go, but who is gonna hack the plane's guidance system to find its likely destination?

You know, the other half of our job?

I'll keep guard in case the bad guys come back.

How do we break in?

With these.

Okay, we aim the plane's reflective panels into my magnifying glass.

The heat will be the equivalent of 100 solar panels focused on an area the size of a playing card, which I will aim directly at the tire of a passing delivery truck.

Boom goes the tire.

And while the driver's changing it, he gains extra cargo.

And since this is the only road into the base, one is bound to come along soon.

Until then, we wait.

Disgusting.

Dental hygiene is beautiful.

(screams): Aah!

(Walter typing rapidly)

Cabe... look over here: Domestic flight paths circling over L.A., DC and Chicago.

Now why is a CIA plane flying repeatedly over U.S. cities? Huh?

You're being paid to find a final destination.

Find it and let's clear out of here.

And when you're done, son, I want to talk to you about your sister and what may be coming.

Busy.

Uh, I know you're concerned about Walt on the Megan thing.

“The Megan thing”?

Her illness?

Uh...

He'll work through it.

We all will.

It is what it is.

That's a little chilly.

My mother d*ed the day I was born.

Death has always been a part of my life.

Now, Sylvester... he's going to be a basket case.

He won't be able to handle it as well as the rest of us.

You may consider it's okay to just... think about it and be sad.

Or just don't think about it.

Truck!

Oh...

Thing of beauty.

Let's move.

(sighs)

So... not the best news.

The phenylephrine didn't clear your lungs the way we had hoped.

So... the aggressive treatment would be...?

Intubation.

Sylvester: Then that's the thing to do.

Right?

Not right?

We're gonna need a minute.

(door opens, closes)

I don't want to be intubated.

It's painful... and I'll have to be under constant sedation...

No, I...

I have to encourage you to be aggressive.

You have to stop being a conduit to my brother and be the man that I love.

All through here!

Copy that!

Take her to Gate Three!

Soldier: Yes, sir!

Okay. Now all we need to do is access the base intranet and hack into their medical records.

Right. Easy.

Just walk in an office and find a computer.

No, we can connect via a peripheral system.

Like the sprinkler controls or...

The sewer system.

(computer blipping)

Happy (quietly): Okay...

I am in their intranet, but their medical records are tight as a drum.

And with our best hackers elsewhere, this could take hours. Days.

So we're stuck in a sewer for no good reason?

Unless we can call Sly to hack it.

It's an old-school PBX.

Private branch exchange.

They work best on ground start trunks, if the intercom is connected to an outside line.

Okay, only one way to find out.

Paige: What are you doing?

Happy: It's like blue boxing in the '70s.

Scratching the coin on the transmitter generates a 2600 hertz tone.

To this old system, that tone is code to open a line.

(dial tone sounds)

Well, lookie here.

(speed dial beeps)

Toby: If the kidnapping target needs a monthly transfusion, it would normally happen at the closest hospital with an extensive blood bank.

Only a few matches there.

Okay, cross-referencing now with the rare blood type.

South Nevada Hospital.

Loading transfusion patient names now...

Loading slowly...

He's searching.

Oh, this would be an opportunity to ask him how Megan's doing.

Uh...

What?

Oh, uh, I've got a name.

Dr. Ivan Zahn.

Uzbek national who defected 13 years ago.

He currently leads a team at Coughlan Air Force Base in the computer engineering division.

His expertise is in high-capacity compression and storage.

He's considered by many to be the best in his field.

Okay, based on his scientific field, Dr. Zahn's office is located in Laboratory Five of “C” Wing.

Sly, hang in there.

Okay.

Honestly, I think I'm figuring this place out.

Why people are so scared of it.

It's the mystique.

Come up on a stairwell, which opens to a door just outside “C” Wing.

Say a place is full of secrets and imagination takes over.

Hence, little green men.

Your point?

This place is no scarier than any other Air Force base.

We just waltzed in here.

Solider: Hold it!

Nobody move!

(g*ns cocking)

I have an envelope in my pocket predicting this.

Okay, almost into the navigation system.

A couple more moments, we will know the plane's destination.

Know that we're here for Megan.

But in the end, what if that's just not enough?

Almost finished.

I don't want you to go into this flat-footed.

Could take you years to get over.

I know that you've suffered tremendous loss, but this is different.

There's time to find a solution.

You got something to say to Megan, you should say it.

Spend your time making memories.

Don't bury yourself in “solutions” that may not work.

(typing rapidly)

Plane's headed to Uzbekistan.

And I'm certain it will work.

One person can take care of Megan: me.

(sighs)

Okay, son.

Let's clear out of this plane now.

Walter, what's the holdup?

Hold on, hold on, hold on.

One second.

(Walter laughs)

Oh, God...

Storage capacity on this is almost two petabytes.

Shouldn't be possible for a machine this small.

It's ten years ahead of anything else on the market.

Camera...

Cabe... the camera equipment Happy saw?

This plane is used to spy on American cities.

And they're flying in secret back to Area 51.

It's a safe bet that technology was developed there.

By the guy that they're looking to kidnap.

With this prototype and the inventor, they could make a whole fleet of planes.

Sell it to every hostile government in the world.

(vehicle approaching)

Didn't I tell you to move?

Put him in the hold.

I think we found our kidnap victim.

(plane engines whirring, powering up)

Oh, my God...

Agent Cabe Gallo's right over that ridge.

He'll confirm we're with Homeland.

These cuffs are a little tight.

Is that necessary?

Please shut up, sir!

Okay, did you even bother checking on Dr. Zahn?

The man is in danger.

Doctor's on base some weeks, gone for others.

But I do appreciate your attempt to bolster this cockamamie story.

You'll be eating that tone soon.

They were here an hour ago.

Where are they?

Happy: They still on the plane?

The secret CIA plane?

Okay, if they are, things have gone severely south.

We need to find them.

We can't lose time.

Oh, you'll have plenty of time in the brig.

I-I can see how this may look bad, but it's the truth.

I'm not trying to discount your story, Doctor.

This base has seen its share of run-ins with rogue men.

Small green men.

Paige: Our boss is Deputy Director of Homeland Security Katherine Cooper.

She'll sort this out.

Yes, of course.

Yes, thank you, ma'am.

Sorry for the bother.

Thank you.

Okay.

Well, according to Deputy Director Cooper, Homeland team known as Scorpion are updating data servers in Barstow.

So who the hell are you?

We're Scorpion.

I'm a world-renowned behaviorist.

I have a 178 IQ.

170.

Barstow was our cover story.

It was the CIA's idea.

Right.

Put 'em in a cell.

Uh...

What?!

Heartbeat's strong.

He's sedated but alive.

Luckily, this was designed to keep us out, not in.

We got to take control of this plane.

That means taking out one of the agents in the cockpit and forcing the other one to fly us back to Coughlan.

Yeah.

Easier if we divide and conquer.

I could reprogram the plane's flight path from this control panel, reroute us straight back to Coughlan.

Great.

Yeah, it would be great if Happy were here.

(groans) I'll never get this lock open without tools.

Then plan B.

(alarm beeping)

Temperature control in the cargo hold.

I'll check on it.

How'd you get buckled in?

Sorry about that.

(indistinct radio chatter)

Toby: I knew it.

I did, I wrote it down.

What good's a promise of money if Walter's m*rder*d by rogue spies?

Curtis, your pie hole, shut it.

Guys, we can get out of this, right?

Maybe not, this is a state-of-the-art R & D facility, meaning everything is state of the art.

This electromagnetic lock has a pound force of over 4,000.

Double what I've ever seen.

Oh, that's great.

The one lock you've never seen.

Paige: Okay, do what we always do.

Embrace the unknown with cold facts.

Someone installed this lock, then someone can uninstall it.

It shouldn't matter that you haven't seen this one before.

Okay, hold on, that might be it.

This base is full of things we've never seen.

If Sly's right about microwaves floating around the base as part of the defense system, I could use a cell phone to channel the waves into the lock and short-circuit the mechanism.

Then what?

There's literally an army sitting outside.

We get out, hit the stairwell, and go to the roof where the comm dishes are.

Then we can knock out a dish, poke out a tiny hole in the base's cone of silence.

Like a, like a hole in the ozone layer.

Then we can contact Sylvester?

He'll find the plane and Cabe and Walt.

You said we need a cell phone.

Toby's phone, actually.

Your crippling gambling problem's left you unable to afford nice things, like the latest cell technology, but yours is old enough to have a nickel cadmium battery.

Insulted, hurt, but glad to help.

Except all of our cell phones are in an evidence box.

Remember your disgusting habit?

Which one?

I'm gonna need you to elaborate.

Sardo (over intercom): Shultz, get back here and buckle in.

Turbulence ahead.

I'm heading into the cockpit.

It's time to turn this plane around.

Okay.

Wait at the panel.

Happy: Okay, window's thick, but not soundproof.

We got to be careful.

Paige: All right.

Focus.

I'm a little rusty on my hooking storage bins with dental floss skills.

Ooh.

Oop...

Oh, I haven't even used all my minutes.

(beeping)

Walter.

Cabe!

Sardo: Put the g*n down.

Not unless you turn this plane around.

That's not gonna happen.

Either this plane lands in Uzbekistan or it crashes into a mountain.

The autopilot I programmed has us heading straight into Boundary Peak.

Digital cyanide pill-- classic CIA.

I'd drop the w*apon.

I can override his passcode and reroute it.

sh**t him, Cabe! sh**t him!

(alarm beeping)

Nothing's happening.

It is-- I switched the antenna from receiver mode to broadcast.

It's channeling energy straight from the battery into the lock.

Well, how do you know it's working?

Stick your hand in front of the phone.

(sizzling)

Oh!

It's working.

(lock clicking)

Well, there's microwaves up here, too!

We can use the phone to short-circuit the dish.

No, the dishes aren't electromagnetic!

Then take it off broadcast mode, cut off its transmissions, so we can call Sylvester.

Happy: Uh, no, the best way to interrupt the airwaves is to interfere with the--

Or that.

Okay... I got a signal!

I'm calling Sly.

Coughlan launches a dozen drone flights a day.

I should be able to hack into one from here.

Okay, if you adjust its frequencies, you can scan the plane's gamma ray signature, and you can locate it like we did this morning.

Got one!

Hacking in now.

Cabe, keys, keys!

Little busy here!

What are you doing?!

I'm putting us into a nosedive.

Plane's rotation will cause a g-force acceleration giving us roughly 20 seconds of weightlessness-- you hold on!

You're k*lling us!

(alarms buzzing, whooping)

(alarms continuing)

Walter: Rerouting us!

Ha!

18 seconds.

Weightlessness almost over.

We need to get to the cockpit!

We got to level this off!

Sylvester: Found the plane.

Okay, where are they?

Over Nevada, near the White Mountains.

They're descending.

Guys, I think they're in a nosedive.

(alarms buzzing, whooping)

Okay...

Okay.

Cabe: Any chance that g-force thing you were talking about might be making us lightheaded?

It could cause us to pass out.

Guys, this is not good.

Are you sure it's not landing?

Sylvester: I have never seen anything intentionally land at that angle.

Get us an image of the plane.

I'm positioning drone cameras now.

Move into the cockpit.

Oh, my God!

G-force must've knocked them out.

They'll regain consciousness if the plane levels out.

Okay, Sly, can you use the drone to hack into the plane to level it?

That is what I am trying to do right now.

Okay, Walter left the backdoor open in the system--

I am in.

Secret spy plane hacking protections, in your face!

Sylvester: Walter? Cabe?

Walter, wake up!

Not now, Sylvester. It's too early.

Hurry! They're gonna crash!

No, Walter, you need to wake up right now!

(both gasping, grunting)

(alarms buzzing, whooping)

Whew! Whew!

(Walter chuckles)

Sylvester, how are you talking to us?

Look outside your starboard window.

(over radio): That's me.

Can you get us to Coughlan?

I reprogrammed the navigation system to send us to the last grounded location.

But, uh, you know, this may come as a sur-surprise, but, um, I don't know how to land a plane.

Happy: I can walk you through this.

Happy?

Okay, don't worry, this will be a piece of cake.

Toby: Aliens?

Oh, man.

Lieutenant: Hands up!

Drop that phone.

Happy, hello, are you there?

(alarm resumes)

Cabe: Happy, we're low on fuel. We need to land.

Happy: A large-body aircraft is headed straight for this base and the guy who's flying it-- he doesn't know what the hell he's doing.

It's gonna crash right into us if you don't give her back that phone.

I admit I admire your tenacity with this story.

You can verify it. You have the equipment.

Okay, you know what? As soon as it's done, you can put the cuffs back on.

But that plane is entering into Coughlan airspace in less than ten seconds whether you believe me or not.

Check the tower.

Meanwhile, let's get you cozy.

Happy? Happy?

Man (over P.A.): Sir, we see a (siren wailing) heavy aircraft directly headed for the base.

All right, scramble three fighters.

Let's sh**t this thing out of the sky.

Are you crazy?

Given its current trajectory, sh**ting that plane will turn it into a flying ball of fire headed straight for this place.

Unless you let me land it safely in the desert.

Happy, we can see the landing strip.

What do we do?

Fighters stand down.

They're keeping their g*ns on you, so you better be for real.

Happy: Okay, keep it above 180 knots, pull back the throttle, the knob between the seats.

Shift it back about halfway.

Okay.

Okay, now gradually start pulling back on the control stick.

(Walter grunting with effort)

Doing that now.

Okay, you need to deploy the flaps.

There should be a handle next to the throttle.

Pull it back 15% and move it slowly to 40.

When you hit the ground kick the throttle into idle.

Holding steady.

Uh, we're coming in too sharp.

We're coming in too sharp!

Walt, pull back.

Pull up, pull up, pull up!

Brace for impact!

(engines whirring, powering down)

(panting)

We made it.

I just want to sit here.

I just want one minute of quiet.

Get your hands up! Hands up!

It was nice while it lasted.

You okay?

We're fine, why?

I saw you guys on that roof, when the shadow crossed you.

You were thinking alien.

And the unknown scared the hell out of you.

Did not.

Nice try.

Solider: Right this way, sir.

Okay, that's got to be the most confused scientist in the world.

Let's go!

(Hummer engines start)

So, uh, money.

Yeah, wire transfer would be preferable.

Oh, you know what? I'd also love... (chuckles) ...love an audience with Dr. Zahn.

He designed this device.

I'm working on a project and I really think that I could... open up...

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

What the hell?

You nosed around a bit too deep in the mission of this plane.

I'm afraid you know a little too much.

I gotta say, I didn't see this coming.

This one's on me.

Obviously, I'd prefer not to k*ll you.

But unfortunately, Mr. O'Brien knows information I really can't have getting out.

NSA spying might've been shut down, but yours is expanding.

Toby: The rest of us don't know anything about this plane.

In fact, I was hardly even on this plane.

Plane? What-what plane?

Toby!

Let's go for a ride.

No, no.

Before we head out to what is unquestionably a large hole in the desert, 6,000 feet above our heads is a drone, operated by our friend Sylvester. Oh...

He's filming and recording this conversation.

And if you k*ll us... you go away for m*rder.

That's good.

Oh, I'm guessing by now he's downloaded this footage to dozens of servers around the country.

You're bluffing.

Walter, can you hear me? Can you hear me?

I'd say he's gonna prove you wrong by getting that drone to give you a buzz cut in eight seconds. Seven, six, five, four, three, two...

Sylvester: The drone interface is malfunctioning!

...one.

Can I interest you in a card trick?

Oh, no!

Willis: Get eyes on that.

You'll note its high-sensitivity camera and long-distance microphone.

Walter, I hope Mr. CIA is being nice, because the drone's camera stopped functioning and I can't hear a word you're saying.

Stand down, gentlemen.

Well, we should be going now.

Happy: Oh, wait, wait a minute-- we've got the CIA by the yabos.

We're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime here.

Okay, in April of '71, there was a video-- an elliptical-shaped object that was spotted over Phoenix, then suddenly disappeared midair.

What was it?

We still don't know.

Where's Hoffa?

The Meadowlands. Everyone knows that.

JFK?

Don't push it.

All right, let's head out, g*ng.

I'm gonna take this.

(train horn blowing in distance)

The storage capacity is astounding.

I'm pretty sure my concept will move from theory to reality very quickly.

I learned something today, about the team.

You know the idea that nature always fills an empty space?

“Nature abhors a vacuum.” Aristotle.

Yeah, well, it really applies to the genius mind.

You all have a real fear of the unknown.

You really struggle with anything you can't prove or explain.

There's nothing that we really can't explain.

What about death?

It is the breakdown of the biological functions that support life.

See, you-you throw science at things that should be emotional.

We process the world differently from most people.

That's all it is.

You know, and truthfully, I know exactly what's going on with Megan.

There is a process to life that ends in an unknown.

Toby.

What?

Can you explain Megan's condition as it stands?

She has a bacterial infection in her lungs. A pneumonia.

Why is that?

She has scarred, damaged lungs.

Why?

She's inhaled small amounts of food and saliva that, over time, have damaged her lungs.

Mm-hmm.

Why is that happening?

Uh, she can't swallow very well because of the MS.

Uh, explain.

The MS damaged some nerves in her brain, probably her medulla.

How come?

Her own immune system att*cked the myelin sheaths around the nerves.

Thank you, Toby.

(clicks off)

See? We know everything we need to know.

(clicks on)

Toby... why is her own body attacking her nerves?

You know, we don't know.

(clicks off)

I'm just trying to help.

I need to go.

(grunts) Wasn't it you that said, the first time that we met, that we save everybody?

I am going to save my sister.

I just spoke to the doctor.

Why is she not on a respirator?

He says it's her best chance.

She didn't want to go on it.

Well, it's your job to convince her.

She's sick; she's not thinking clearly.

She was thinking.

I trusted you.

You promised me you would do the right thing.

I did do the right thing.

For Megan.

She doesn't want to prolong her state, so I respected her wishes.

Don't go head to head with me on this.

You've known her for a year, I've known her my whole life.

I love her just as much.

And I am sorry, Walter, but you are wrong.

Fine.

Fine, I'll just have to take care of it myself.

This isn't over.