05x01 - B.S.O.D.

Episode transcripts for the 2011 TV show "Person of Interest". Aired September 22, 2011 - June 21, 2016.*
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A former CIA operative is recruited by an enigmatic billionaire to prevent violent crimes.
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05x01 - B.S.O.D.

Post by bunniefuu »

[telephone ringing]

[foreboding music]

[ringing continues]

[electronic beep]

Root: If you can hear this, you're alone.

The only thing left of us is the sound of my voice.

I don't know if any of us made it.

Did we win? Did we lose?

I don't know.

I'm not even sure I know what victory would mean anymore.

But either way, it's over.


[dramatic music]

So let me tell you who we were.

Let me tell you who you are...




And how we fought back.

["No Wow" by The Kills]

[echoing labored breathing]



[g*nshots]

♪ ♪

[g*nshots]

♪ you're gonna have to step over my dead body ♪

Damn it.

♪ before you walk out that door ♪
♪ you charmed me with your magic ♪
♪ landed looking tragic ♪
♪ "Forever" is the feather you ain't got no more ♪




[grunting]



♪ and all the people you see coming by to save you ♪
♪ you're make believing on in your mind ♪
♪ your eyes are holy rollin' ♪
♪ looking, b*ating, knocking ♪
♪ the ceiling gets closer to you all the time ♪
♪ this ain't no wow now ♪
♪ they all been put down ♪
♪ who ain't dead yet, fled to die... ♪


man: Get the case.

♪ closer to the shore ♪
♪ this ain't no wow no more ♪




♪ this ain't no wow no more ♪

Whoa, bro. Dude, this is my Uber!

Look!

Five stars if you hit it.

Dude, give me my phone.

What are you doing?

[b*ll*ts rattling]

Shut up and get down!

God!

[crowd screaming, g*nf*re]

♪ you're gonna have to step ♪
♪ before you walk out that door ♪
♪ you charmed me with your magic ♪
♪ landed looking tragic ♪
♪ "Forever" is the feather you ain't got no more ♪
♪ this ain't no wow now ♪
♪ they all been put down ♪
♪ who ain't dead yet ♪
♪ fled to die closer to the shore ♪
♪ this ain't no wow no more ♪




♪ This ain't no wow no more ♪

Excuse me.



[indistinct chatter]

All right, buddy. All right.



♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip ♪
♪ kinda like the loose end of the night ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip ♪
♪ kinda like the loose end of the night ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪


I know you can't talk right now, but maybe that's better than hearing all our numbers are up.

[line rings]

♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪
♪ drip, drip, drip, drip, drip kinda like ♪


Come on, guys, pick up.

[line trilling]

[tires squealing, cars crashing]

♪ this ain't no wow now, they all been put down ♪
♪ who ain't dead yet ♪
♪ fled to die closer to the shore ♪
♪ this ain't no wow now ♪
♪ they all been put down ♪
♪ who ain't dead yet ♪
♪ fled to die closer to the shore ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ they all been put down ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ they all been put down ♪


Damn.

♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪
♪ there ain't no wow now ♪


[indistinct radio chatter]

man: Rodriguez, they're ready for you in three.

Already lawyered up.

Where the hell are you?

The whole Dominic-Elias thing has turned into a nuclear fakakta, only I'm the last man standing.

People are gonna start asking questions.

Call me.

[cell phone beeps]

Hello, Detective Fusco.

Internal affairs, are you kidding me, Soriano?

Special Agent LeRoux, FBI.

We need to talk.

[tense music]

man: May I have your attention, please? This Manhattan-bound ferry is departing shortly. All passengers should proceed...

[g*n cocks]

Put it down.

man: ...at this time.



Gently.

[both grunting]

[dramatic music]

[groans]



[grunts]

[both grunting]

[growling]

[groaning]

Well, it's about time. [coughs]

Machine okay?

The subway, we have to get back.

Great minds think alike.

Cameras all over the city.

The ferry, come on.



[foreboding music]

man: Harold.

[expl*si*n booms]

Grace: Harold?

Harold?


Harold.

Harold, let's go.

man: All passengers should be on board.

We can't. I can't.

What?

Finch, this is the only way.

What about Root?

I'll go after her later.

She'll have to fend for herself for now.

Without the Machine to help her, it's a su1c1de mission.

Finch, if we don't get on this boat right now, we'll all be dead, do you understand this?

[beeping]

Mr. Reese.

The Machine, it's losing power.

[dramatic music]

Come on, Harold.

We could use all the help we can get.



Where's your partner, detective?

Following up a lead on another case.

Bureau's been tracking Dominic's crew ever since a corrupt DEA agent was found with a b*llet in her head, and Elias put him away only to lose him again.

FBI's Ten Most Wanted, that was quite a takedown by you and your partner.

Yeah, it sure was.

But then your transport van gets T-boned by a dump truck, and both of them wind up dead.

The whole thing went down in a black hole.

There's not a single surveillance camera in sight.

Yeah, that's, uh, interesting.

We've gone over the crime scene, and something doesn't add up.

Dominic was found 15 feet from the van, sh*t through the head.

Right.

You can read that in my report.

But there's no evidence of another sh**t.

You just tell us, detective, did you pull your w*apon?

[gasps]

I drew my w*apon, but I never fired.

Look, I know this sounds crazy, but the sh*t sounded like it came from a high-powered r*fle on a nearby rooftop.

A sn*per?

Are you telling us it was a grassy knoll, detective?

We've got two dead kingpins on our hands on your watch, and you're telling me that you pulled your w*apon but didn't fire?

Look, that's what I'm telling you.

[solemn music]

We're gonna need your w*apon, detective.

Haven't been on one of these since Elias got the better of us.

I'm not particularly fond of them either.

Well, we got to get off-camera, find our way back to the subway.

There'll be more operatives on the other side.

We're living in a Samaritan world now.

What are we dealing with here, Finch?

Uncharted waters, Mr. Reese. It's everywhere.

Pervasive, surveillance, misinformation, propaganda, and they can activate almost anyone.

So what's the damage?

The red light means that the piezoelectric battery must have been damaged.

I thought this case was indestructible.

The case may be, but the brain inside it can only just take so much blunt force trauma, not unlike us.

Sorry, I was short on Kevlar.

Damage to a single bit of the code of the Machine in its presently compressed state would equal terabytes of lost data.

Irretrievable, irreparable.

It's running now on the lithium-ion backup, but if that light starts blinking, we're in big trouble.

Our best hope is to get back to the subway and try to stabilize it.

Even then, I'm not sure I can fix the battery, much less decompress the Machine.

It would take vast amounts of processing power, which I don't currently have available.

Don't worry. We'll find Root.

She'll help you get it back up and running.

Then we'll get Shaw back, start working the numbers again.

Mr. Reese, we don't even know if the Machine that comes out will be the same one that went in.

It might be mortally wounded.

You don't know that.

We'll fix it.

We have to, Finch.

The world needs your Machine now more than ever.

You're not the first person that's tried to tell me that, Mr. Reese.

And had I known what we'd be up against now, I might have handled things differently.

[indistinct voices chattering]

Why, yes, I did. Thank you for asking.

What loss?

You look flush, Harold.

What, did the Machine ask you out on a date?

[chuckles]

I think there's a bug in the code.

The Machine is becoming a bit... presumptuous, intuitive, clever, voracious even.

Its burgeoning intelligence is a little unsettling.

Spoken like a true parent.

You should be proud, Harold.

I mean, you have created a true artificial intelligence.

I endeavored to create a machine that would serve, not supersede, us.

A supercomputer that can think 100,000 times faster than the smartest human is automatically a potential thr*at.

Once it surpasses us, we would be foolish to imagine that we had the means to control it.

If an unbridled artificial super intelligence ever saw us as a thr*at, it-- it could lead to the extinction of mankind.

Oh, easy, Professor Doom and Gloom.

Why do you assume it'll be hostile?

It could be friendly.

Hell, if it even has the slightest sense of human compassion, it could cure cancer, solve global warming.

It could eradicate poverty with ease.

Or it could do exactly the opposite.

Create total chaos.

I'm sorry.

It's an existential risk that the world cannot afford, Nathan.

And there's only one way to ensure that it doesn't come to that.

Which is?

Contain its growth.

Clear its RAM every day at midnight.

You mean erase its memories?

That sounds cruel.

Memories make up who we are.

I know that.

My father d*ed of Alzheimer's 25 years ago today, but his real death happened well before that, when he lost all his memories.

And now you want to do the same thing to your brainchild.

We're not talking about us, Nathan.

We're talking about a machine.

Well, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself, Harold.

Someone one day is going to create an uninhibited ASI.

It's not a matter of if but when.

Why shouldn't it be you?

Unless, of course, you trust someone else to build one that will be friendly towards humankind.

[solemn music]

[cell phone chimes]

woman: Oh.

Hey.

Mm-hmm?

[cell phone beeps]

[tense music]



[phones chiming, ringing]

[indistinct chatter]

[electronic ping]

[people murmuring indistinctly]

Mm-hmm.

[sighs]

Don't be a hero.

[people screaming and shouting indistinctly]

[grunts]

[dramatic music]



[both grunting]

[groans]

[yells]



[grunts]



You can just call me Root, bitch.

Come on. Come on.

Hands where I can see 'em.

Nice g*n.

[tense music]

[people speaking in foreign language]



[woman shouting in foreign language]

[beeping]

We're running out of time.

We need to shake our tail, or we'll expose our base of operations.

Assuming Samaritan hasn't already found the subway.



man: Sir, over here!

Let's go.



[metallic clinking]

Reese: You got to be kidding me.

[mechanical whirring]

Reese: We got to go.

Sorry.

[grunts and groans]

Really?

What? Sugar's bad for you.

Come on.

[beeping]



[speaking Dutch]

All clear.

[dog whimpers]

Except Root's not here.

Well, everything's still intact.

Lights, power.

Unfortunately... not everything.

It's powering down.

There's only a very small amount of residual power remaining.

The RAM chips could be losing their data even as we speak.

You need me to open it?

Please, Mr. Reese, I'll handle it.

[phone rings]

Now is not a good time, Lionel.

I take it you and Mr. Peabody haven't seen the headlines today.

Fusco: Go ahead. I'll wait.

Reese: Oh, no, Dominic and Elias.

They were supposed to be in custody.

How could this happen?

Fusco: sn*per on a roof.

I'm still alive, though. Thanks for asking.

sn*per?

Yeah, I know.

But I know what I heard. I was there.

It was a cr*ck sh*t coming out of nowhere.

I'll telling you, this was a real pro.

Samaritan just took out the heads of organized crime?

If so, it's not about to abide any witnesses.

I would caution the detective to keep his conspiracy theories to himself, real or imagined.

Lionel, I need you to keep this sn*per thing to yourself.

What, are you kidding me?

I apprehend the city's two biggest kingpins, almost get k*lled, now IAB and the feds are trying to pin it on me, and you're telling me to keep my mouth shut.

I'm telling you there was another sh**t.

The lock's damaged. I can't open it.

Here. Try this.

Fusco, you mention this sn*per thing again, you could be his next target, got it?

What do you want me to do, just roll over?

Right now, I want you to trust me and sit tight.

Has anyone been asking about me?

More like who hasn't?

I told 'em you're working a lead on that other case.

We are, and it's proven a tough one to cr*ck.

Now I need you to do me another favor, to locate someone.

Get the department's significant incident report for the past 24 hours.

Reese: Thank you, Lionel.

[line clicks]

The lock's jammed. I can't get it open.

That's it.

[tense music]

Step aside, Harold.

[drill whirs]

Mr. Reese, there's sensitive electronics inside.

We need to open it, not give it a lobotomy.

Right now, we need a heartbeat.

When doing CPR, sometimes you got to cr*ck a few ribs.

[drill whirring]

[drill grinds]

[g*nf*re]

[dramatic music]

[g*nf*re]

[g*n cocks]

[g*nsh*t]



[g*nsh*t]



[g*n cocks]

[g*nsh*t]

[g*n clicks]

Damn it.



Sorry, boys, out of a*mo.

Doesn't mean they are.

[g*nf*re]

[tense music]


[sighs]

This is private property. You're trespassing.

And here I thought it was an electronics recycling center.

Why are you here?

I'm looking for a man named Bela.

There's no one here by that name.

Bela Durchenko.

He hacked a Russian kleptocrat six years ago, stole a hundred million.

The Russians sent a team of FSB agents to make sure he never made it out of Russia alive, so Bela hired an online hacker/assassin to take out the Russian first, then escaped to Latvia, never heard from again... till now.

And how did you find me?

Same way I found the Russian.

That's why you hired me.

Hello, Bela.

Hello, Root.

Nice to finally meet you.

LeRoux: As you know, detective, witnesses involved in motor vehicle accidents often experience head trauma and as a result can present dramatically different version of events than the evidence suggests.

Look, I know what you're thinking here, but I was there, and I'm telling you--

Ballistics came back from the FBI lab.

It was your w*apon, detective.

[foreboding music]

We believe the crash vehicle was one of Dominic's men attempting to spring him from custody.

Dominic stole a guard's w*apon, and when he tried to escape, you sh*t him.

That's not how I remembered it--

You stopped one of the FBI's Ten Most Wanted from fleeing the scene.

And when he turned on you, it became self-defense.

You're a hero, detective.

Let me take a look at that.

Sorry.

This is a federal case now.

FBI's recommending you for commendation.

Commendation?

Good work, detective.

Battery's damaged.

I'm gonna have to improvise an alternative power supply to keep the RAM chips alive.

So what can I do to help?

I believe you've done quite enough, Mr. Reese.

Okay, then, I'll head back out for Root.

John.

It's too risky now.

Given our recent clashes with operatives throughout the city, we have no idea whether our cover identities still hold.

You know we don't leave our comrades behind.

The numbers won't wait.

Good luck, Harold.

It's just you and me now.

Though I seem to have a unique talent for alienating the people I employ, I'm not prepared to lose either of you just yet.

[indistinct voices chattering]

Grace: Some company?

Oh, hello.

Hey.

[dog barks]

Who's a good boy?

[chuckles] Sea salt caramel.

Oh, no thanks.

Whoa, I have never known you to turn down ice cream.

Something on your mind, Harold?

It's nothing. Just a work decision.

I think I might have to let an employee go.

Oh, I'm sorry.

He's extremely talented, resourceful, innovative, but just too...

He seems constantly to have boundary issues.

Sounds personal.

Sounds more like a-- a protégé.

Suppose I am a mentor of sorts.

Perhaps the student has outgrown the teacher.

Could be time to push him out of the nest, set him free.

My mind is telling me to do one thing and my heart another.

Well, you've come to rely upon him.

Perhaps if he didn't remind me of it all the time.

Mmm.

It's hard to let good people go.

And I know you're not the type to take other people's feelings lightly, Harold, but that's what I like about you.

You've got a good heart. Go with it.

It won't steer you wrong.

What?

Oh, it's nothing. It's just--

That was something that my father always used to say.

[indistinct voices chattering]

Rumor had it that the underworld's most elite assassin was taken out by the so-called "man in the suit," but I always figured you were too clever to be done in by some g*n-for-hire.

Root: Just needed a change.

Got a new job. Fell in love.

What are you really doing here?

They had numbers. I needed a place of refuge.

So you bring them all the way to my place of business.

Knew you'd defend your turf.

You didn't disappoint.

Who is chasing you?

Because it's not law enforcement.

Do I have a problem?

They were after me, not you.

Besides, you operate in a shadow zone.

Cameras are liabilities, easily hacked or used against you in court of law.

Only the paranoid survive.

Ah.

Another reason I came to you.

I need a new identity, and you're the best.

What makes you think I'm still in that business?

You're a hacker, Bela.

You're not here to make a buck off recycling.

Your minions are mining personal data off that old equipment, which can only mean you're committing identity theft.

We're finding some malware baked deep into the latest firmware, impossible to reformat.

Just reinstalls every time it's booted up.

We think it's the NSA.

NSA still doesn't know you're in this country, thanks to me.

I just need a new identity, Bela.

Backstopped.

Then we'll call it even.

I'll see what I can work out... for an old friend.

Okay.

So far, so good.

[beeping]

What the--

[electricity buzzes and hums]

What?

[dog whimpers]

[suspenseful music]

Oh, no.

Decompressing?

That's impossible.

[dog barking]

How'd you escape from the briefcase?

You went through the power cable to get to the workstation.

No, no, no, no, no. You can't decompress now.

There's not enough room.

[dog barking]

It's too much. There's not enough memory.

It can't handle it.

[whirring]

No, stop!

Stop!

[electricity crackling]

Ah! Ah.

Since when did the feds stop sharing ballistics reports?

Since the NYPD lost two of our most wanted RICO targets.

You don't like it, take it up with your boss.

Lionel.

Nice of you to join us, detective.

How was your vacation?

Bumpy. Problem with my luggage.

Yeah, I'm sorry to hear that.

I just got T-boned, sh*t at by a sn*per, hammered in the box by IAB and the feds, but enough about me.

Agreed.

Now, did you find anything on those incident reports?

All the significant department incident reports for the last 24 hours.

Mm-hmm. Anything jump out at you?

Outside of a nutjob as*ault on a subway, otherwise known as a Wednesday in New York, nothing.

That's Root. Thanks, Lionel.

Hey, we need to talk about what's going down around here.

You haven't heard the half of it yet.

Would you keep your voice down?

They said I fired my w*apon, k*lled Dominic, which is insane because I was there.

I'm telling you, it wasn't me.

And I believe you.

Well, they don't.

Then this fed pulls a ballistics report out of his ass, says it was my g*n.

And what did you say?

I went along with it, like you said.

Agreed I was banged up and must have blocked it out.

Now they're making it out to look like it was a good sh**ting.

So you're a hero.

Good job, Lionel.

Next guy that tells me "Good job, Lionel" is gonna get fed his teeth.

I feel like I left the Parallax Corporation and entered the twilight zone.

What the hell is going on around here, partner?

We'll talk later.

Right now, I got to go help a friend.

[flames crackling]

[indistinct voices chattering]

[tense musical flourish]

Well... for humans, there's a biological definition.

It's when the heart stops b*ating.

[somber music]

Why do you ask?

Yes.

That is the purpose.



This conversation is over.

Because... you're not human.

You're a machine.

You were watching us.

[sighs]

All right, that's enough.

That's enough.



[sighs]



All right, wait, wait, wait.

Uh...

[dramatic music]



Say something.

Hello?

Can you see me?

Good morning.

[groans lightly]

[somber music]



[indistinct voices chattering, dog barking]

[dog barking]

[dog whimpering]

[speaks Dutch]

[dog barks]

[speaks Dutch]

[suspenseful music]



[dog growls and whimpers]



I'm so sorry.

Now I'm the one that failed you.

[eerie music]



[truck horn honking]

[van crashing]

[groans]

[grunts]



Gotcha.



Hmm.

[door bangs]

Your new identity is ready.

You must need this badly to risk barging into my establishment.

Sorry.

I'll be sure to knock next time.

Those men chasing you, they had no badges or credentials, and we couldn't cr*ck the encryption on their phones.

They're black ops.

They don't exist.

Ah, you can't be too careful these days.

Like I said, they're after me, not you.

Just give me the docs, and I'll be on my way.

I figure whoever is running those black ops must have considerable resources.

And before I broke their last phone, it rang.

There was a message and an offer.

And since you have already compromised my place of business, I thought I might take the better deal.

You understand.

I do, but you don't.

[footsteps thudding]

Thanks for taking the call.

Nice doing business with you.

That it was.

[yells]

[g*nf*re]

Admirable, how you've lasted this long.

Without your precious Machine, you've had to fend for yourself, create your own identity.

Unfortunately for you, this is your last one.

And when you give up what's left of your broken down Machine, your friends will be next.

Shame, really.

They'll bury you as a Jane Doe.

So much wasted potential.

Such an inefficient use of resources.

Samaritan will change all that.

If you think you're gonna win this w*r, you're mistaken.

The w*r is over. Samaritan won.

But your traitorous dead friend here was right about the bug installed in the latest firmware.

Samaritan.

Recording every keystroke, monitoring every desktop camera, every laptop mic.

Malware.

Impossible to remove.

Even when detected, people think it's the NSA.

That's just fine with us.

We just need to clean up one last thing... your Machine.

So tell me... where are the other members of your team?

Think you just found one.

[grenade bangs]

[grunts]

[g*nshots]

[dramatic music]



Always knew you had a soft spot for me.

There's no God mode anymore.

Machine's down, all but out.

It's our only hope.

[g*nf*re]

Finch needs you back at the subway.

Higher calling.

And leave you here?

I'm useless there.

This, I'm good at.

I'll hold them back till you get a chance to get out of here.

The fight's here, and so am I.

Ah!

[g*nsh*t]

Okay, then, after me.

Ready?

[g*nf*re]

Well, they'll be back.

Next time, with an army.

We're low on a*mo.

Best get going.

What are you doing?

What I came for.

What? These are game consoles.

Right, but just the last gen.

We don't have time for games.

No, we don't.

But if we want to help Harold, we're gonna need about 300 of these.

Now go steal us a truck.

Okay.

Harold, what happened?

I failed. I never gave it a chance.

Finch?

If I hadn't crippled the Machine from the start, it might have stood a chance against Samaritan.

What about the RAM chips? Have they lost all their data?

Battery's dead. It has no power source.

Could be a residual charge in the lithium-ion backup.

If there was, I fried it.

Come on, Finch, there's got to be a way to resuscitate it.

Mr. Reese, even if there were battery power left, we don't have enough processing power to decompress the Machine.

We would need...

A supercomputer.

Exactly, Ms. Groves.

And down here, that's going to be a little tough to come by.

Damn near impossible, even aboveground.

So we're gonna have to build one of our own.

Build a supercomputer? With what?

[dramatic music]



You're serious?

Deadly.

But we're gonna need a lot more AC.

It's gonna get hot as hell down here.

I'll clear out the subway car.

Let's get cracking.

man: Cardiac arrest, Caucasian male, 61.

En route to St. Francis.


Sumner: Detective Fusco.

Yeah?

IAB's closing your case.

What? What happened to Detective Soriano handling my case?

You didn't hear? Heart att*ck.

It wasn't his first one. He had a pacemaker.

Guess it could only do so much.

You're kidding me.

I wish I was.

He was a good cop.

Life's a bitch, huh?

Yeah, yeah.

[tense music]

Would have been easier just to steal Watson.

These particular gaming consoles have a unique cellular structure that can be scaled.

Networked, they approach the processing power of a supercomputer, but only use about 1/10 of the power, and their OS can be overwritten with Linux.

I don't speak nerd.

Will it work?

She's ready to go.

Never mind the damage.

She won't handle the decompression.

She?

Have a little faith, Harry.

We made it this far.



If somehow you get through all of this, I promise you I won't make the same mistake again.

Neither will I.

Things will definitely be different this time.

How?

You built something better than us, Harold-- intellectually, morally superior.

You weren't comfortable with that.

How could anyone be?

I am.

Because it's a reflection of you.

And right now, it's our last hope.

So here we are.

Yep.

And like it or not, Harry, history is upon you.

[dramatic music]



[electronic whirring]

Here we go.

Once it reaches 20%, we can't put the genie back in the bottle.

Root: It's overclocking.

I've got the AC turned up to maximum.

That's all our cooling capability.

[beeping]

There's no turning back now.

We have to cool it down.

It's too late. It's going to melt.

Mr. Reese--



We lost one.

There's another.



It's red-lining.

The cluster's burning up.

We're gonna lose her.

[t*nk thuds]

Stand back.

Liquid nitrogen?

Phone companies use it to cool phone lines throughout the city.

So unless you want a bad case of frostbite, I'd suggest you step back.



Well, did it work?



I don't know.

[tense music]



Can you see me?



[dramatic music]

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