05x03 - Truth Be Told

[bunniefuu]

Finch: You are being watched. The government has a secret system... secret system...

Greer: A system you asked for to keep you safe.

Finch: A machine that spies on you every hour of every day.

Greer: You granted it the power to see everything... to index, order, and control the lives of ordinary people.

Finch: The government considers these people irrelevant. We don't.

Greer: But to it, you are all irrelevant, victim or perpetrator, if you stand in its way.

Finch: We'll find you.

Beale: Ah, here we are.

Come in.

I was just catching up with Agent Stanton here.

John.

Kara.

Supervisory Agent Terence Beale.

It's good to meet you, sir.

And you, John.

Although, to be honest, I feel like I already know you.

Sir?

You enlisted in '93.

Rose from infantry to rangers to special forces.

In '05, you joined the agency and trained at the Farm, scored in the top 10% of your class, and displayed particular... creativity in hand-to-hand combat and evasive driving exercises.

All of which led to you being selected to serve in the Agency's Special Activities division, along with Mark Snow and Kara here.

And to answer your question, I know all this because I'm the one who selected you.

Well... thank you, sir.

That's not necessary.

I just thought you should know why I requested the two of you.

For this assignment, I need my best.

Outside of Malajat last month, the Taliban intercepted a shipment of Stinger missiles, which was subsequently used in a Taliban offensive.

The transport was a classified op.

Our job is to find out how the Taliban knew about it.

We have any ideas?

Name's Brent Tomlinson.

He's an Army m*llitary advisor who had advance knowledge of the shipment's schedule and payload.

We think the Taliban paid him off?

Could be.

They're well funded with Saudi money via Qatar.

Stanton: Maybe they gave him some of that money.

That's what we need you to find out.

And if they did?

Then you're to handle it in the appropriate way... ensuring there's no Agency exposure.

Clear?

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Avast, ye mateys.

Welcome to Scallywags.

Follow me, please.

When you said you needed to change our lunch plans, I wasn't expecting something so... colorful.

It was John's idea.

Couldn't get a table at Chuck E. Cheese?

He's working on a case nearby.

[loud thump]

So, Iris... where is your new man of mystery?

I'm sure he's close.

[phone line trilling]

[grunts]

[cell phone ringing]

[both grunting]

Not so fast.

Hey, sweetheart.

Hey, just wondering where you are.

We're here.

Me too. I just had to make a pit stop in the little buccaneers' room.

I'll be right there.

Come here.

This guy's name is Kelso.

Now, he was sent by your business partner, who apparently wanted to become a sole proprietor.

My partner's going to pick him up, okay?

Have a nice day.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

You must be...

Dina and Bill.

[loud crash]

man: Slow down!

Guess some people just can't handle their grog.

What's shakin', Finch?

Mr. Reese.

How was your lunch with Dr. Campbell and her parents?

It was a bit rocky at first.

By the end, I think I was growing on them.

An experience I can personally relate to.

So things are going well between the two of you?

Well enough. Iris still has a lot of questions.

Be cautious in your answers.

I intend to be.

Otherwise, I think it's good that you're attempting to have a more normal life.

That is, when you're not risking your life saving people.

Or trying to stay a step ahead of an artificial superintelligence bent on world domination.

Or that.

Looks like most of the bugs have been worked out of Machine 2.0, given the steady stream of numbers that we've been getting.

Speaking of which...

Alex Duncan, 25, single.

Holds a master's degree in computer science.

Works for an international consulting firm, and now you do too.

Reese: Is this necessary?

I mean, if the Machine is open, why not just ask why it's sending us a number?

Because, Mr. Reese, although the Machine has become reliable in the delivery of the numbers, it is still frequently unreliable in the processing and delivery of other information.

Case in point, it also sent me this number.

What is this, some kind of program?

I have no idea.

Clearly, it still has an affinity for riddles.

Sounds like she has something fun in store for all of us today.

The Machine made you a package delivery driver?

Sadly, all of my identities can't be bears or brides.

I gotta go.

Don't want to be late for my first day of training.

Yes, I think it's wise if perhaps we all got to work.

Subtle.

Finch: So Anderson Rake Consulting employs over 20,000 in more than 90 countries and count among their clients the Department of Defense.

I gathered as much when I saw my ID.

It came with a security clearance.

How'd you manage that on short notice?

Finch: I didn't.

I created an alias with security clearance for you months ago.

You should know by now, Mr. Reese, I like to be prepared.

And Root calls me the Boy Scout.

Okay, I got eyes on Duncan.

What else can you tell me about him?

Finch: Let's see. He has no criminal background.

His finances appear to be in order.

He comes from a m*llitary family.

His father and brother both served.

Finch: It seems that Alex opted for the private sector.

Maybe he thought there was more upside working for a contractor.

[quiet beeping]

Damn it!

Oh, perfect.

Hey, it happens to the best of us.

Thanks.

Name's John. I'm new here.

Alex. "Strategy development"?

Yeah. You?

Security systems management.

Wow, really?

Most of the time, it's just glorified virus scanning.

Bet it beats the hell out of strategy development.

Has its moments, I guess.

Here.

Say, I'd love to get an inside scoop on what it's like to work around here.

You want to grab a beer after work?

Uh... I... I would, but... it's been a long week.

Sorry.

Finch, there's something definitely going on with Duncan.

He's anxious, distracted, on edge.

Any idea what it could be?

Not yet. I tried pairing his phone.

But it has an extra layer of encryption on it.

Finch: Probably has to do with the division he works in.

Security systems management handles security for clients ranging from private companies to government and m*llitary networks.

Reese: Which means Duncan has access.

Question is, what is he doing with it?

man: Have a good night.

woman: Good night.

[indistinct conversations]

man: Gonna grab a drink. You want to join us?

woman: Yeah, I'll come.

man: Stay out of trouble. Good night.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

[mysterious music]

♪ ♪

Reese: Hey, Finch.

Looks like our security expert is also a fan of breaking and entering.

Into where?

His supervisor's office.

Finch: What is he looking for?

Reese: Can't tell, but whatever it is, it's above his pay grade, which is likely why we got his number.

If Duncan is selling sensitive information, the thr*at could be a buyer looking to remain anonymous.

Or Duncan himself, if he wants to cover his tracks.

Whatever it is, Duncan's engaged in a dangerous game.

Mr. Duncan.

Yes?

Step this way, please.

Looks like someone's done playing.

agent: Just have a few questions for you, sir.

Mr. Duncan.

Who are you?

It's the CIA.

CIA?

Are you sure?

Reese: I'm staring at my old boss.

His name's Beale.

Boss?

You mean he knows you?

He knew me at one time.

We're going to need you to come with us.

Not until I see some ID.

Reese: Finch, they're grabbing him up.

John, you can't intercede.

The hell I can't.

Finch: The CIA thinks that John Reese is dead.

If Beale sees you, he can marshal all the forces of the Agency to hunt you down, and none of us need that.

[tires screeching]

Reese: You're right.

What I need is a bigger g*n.

Hello?

Oh, hi. You have any sugar?

In the bottom shelf. Sorry, who are you?

How'd you get in here?

I'm Gina. This is Mike.

Here, Brent. Have a seat.

You're Americans.

From the State Department?

Not quite.

You're not reporters.

Oh, God, no.

But we do have some questions for you.

Questions about what?

A weapons shipment and some Stingers that went missing last month.

Okay, look, whoever you are, I'm not comfortable discussing a classified operation.

Then, by all means... [door lock clicks] get comfortable.

Duncan must've stolen some highly sensitive material in order to get the attention of someone like Beale.

Shouldn't we at least consider the possibility that Duncan is a spy?

Maybe the CIA has good cause to question him.

Finch, Beale doesn't just ask questions.

He and his agents find and eliminate enemies of the state.

Duncan deserves more due process than that.

Then what do you propose that we do?

Beale will interrogate Duncan.

Depending how long that takes before he breaks?

Might only be a couple of hours after that, Duncan's gone.

Finch: Your cover will be too, if Beale identifies you.

I'll be careful.

Before I can save Duncan, I've got to find him first.

You sure your Machine can't help?

I can try, but I promise nothing.

Oh, Miss Groves is calling. I'll keep you informed.

Right.

Yes?

[groans]

Miss Groves? Are you all right?

[grunts] Between the creepy stares from my training driver and my sore back?

I'd say just peachy.

Remember to lift with your legs.

Oh, thanks for the tip.

I'm calling because I think I know the reason the Machine put me in this job.

Oh? What might that be?

On our route today, we delivered several packages to a building in midtown.

590 Madison, Suite 908.

Something odd about that?

The packages weren't meant for that address.

They were rerouted there by the delivery computer.

Then it had us pick up the same packages later and deliver them to their original addresses.

The building directory shows no tenant in Suite 908.

My training driver says packages have been going there for weeks.

Looks like they're all from electronics companies.

It could be that the Machine is rerouting them, looking for something to help it rebuild.

Well, I think an ASI is behind this but... not ours.

Samaritan.

It's been spreading its malware on a massive scale.

Maybe this is how it's doing it.

Finch: I need to inspect one of those packages.

Can you secure one?

Not without raising a red flag. They're all tracked.

Finch: So if even one is missing, Samaritan will know.

I may have a way around that.

Gotta go.

Reese: Okay, Finch, I'm here.

Is this really all the Machine can give us?

I'm afraid so.

Based on the SUV's license plate you've provided, the Machine has identified that stretch of road as the last known location of Beale's vehicle.

Figures.

Beale's gonna find a place where he can drug and interrogate him.

Sounds like you're still searching for a needle in the proverbial haystack.

Not if you know what you're looking for-- controlled access, with no traffic or people.

Bingo.

Call you back, Finch.

[dramatic music]

Why were you accessing those classified files, Mr. Duncan?

What were you going to do with them?

Maybe I'll answer your questions after you answer mine.

[cell phone rings]

See what you can get off this.

Keep him awake.

Beale.

Hey!

Eyes open, smart guy.

You got miles to go before you sleep.

You don't.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

Shh.

Let's get you out of here.

Stay close. Let's go.

[dramatic music]

[g*nshots]

♪ ♪

[hissing]

[g*nshots continue]

♪ ♪

[g*nshots]

Reese: Get down!

[machine g*n fire]

[tires squealing]

Let's go. Move!

♪ ♪

You've gotta be kidding me.

Who the hell was that guy?

[sighs] A ghost.

From the past.

Hope you're going to put everything back when you're done.

Yeah, after I find the money.

What makes you think I had anything to do with that stolen shipment?

You're one in a small circle who knew about it.

[laughs]

Look at the part of the world we're in.

If it's a security breach you're looking for, try the local police and soldiers.

The way the tribal alliances shift here, today's ally is tomorrow's enemy.

Or maybe your alliances have shifted.

You say that like you know anything about me.

You know I volunteered for this post?

Hmm? You know why?

Because I believed in what we were doing here.

Believed I could make a difference, not a buck.

And have you? Made a difference?

Yeah, I like to think so.

But?

But it's a little hard when you're looked at as invaders instead of liberators, when the local government's for sale to the highest bidder and you realize that the w*r you stepped into has been going on for hundreds of years and will continue for hundreds more after you leave.

So if it's a lost cause, why do it?

Because it's the job I signed up for and the one I still believe in.

The place is clean.

Yeah.

That's because I haven't done anything.

What's in the case, Brent?

My orders, daily briefings, emails.

Open it.

[scoffs]

Afraid I can't do that, not unless you have top-secret clearance.

[g*n cocks]

Consider this my clearance.

Open it.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

So we done here?

Reese: Takes a while for the Phenobarbital to wear off.

I'm guessing you're not really in strategy development.

At least not for your company.

So who are you, then?

I'm the reason you're waking up here instead of some CIA third world black hole.

CIA?

Yeah.

That's who comes knocking when you steal state secrets.

Yeah, Finch, go ahead.

Finch: Mr. Reese, how's Mr. Duncan?

Reese: He's awake.

Looks like he could use some room service.

Room service?

With the safe house out of commission, I had to make other arrangements.

Reese: Besides, Beale will be searching fleabag motels, not high-end hotels.

How high-end?

Finch: Seems that protecting Mr. Duncan is becoming costly in more ways than one.

Where are you, Finch?

I have to assist Miss Groves.

Finch: I'll be unavailable for a short time.

Fine, it'll give me a chance to find out what our friend here has been up to.

Your turn to answer some questions.

Like what?

Like what you were doing in your supervisor's office.

What are you after and for who?

[sighs] Look, man, I'm not a spy.

I wasn't stealing state secrets, okay?

I was looking for information... on my brother, Paul.

Your brother? Why?

Is he in some kind of trouble?

No. He's dead.

Harry. You made it.

Yes. Your surprise is disheartening.

Oh, dear.

Is he...

Just knocked out.

Accidentally took an errant package to the head.

What? He was coming on strong all day.

We'll have to work fast.

We're in a dead zone, but if the truck's off the grid too long, Samaritan will get suspicious.

We should be able to locate any malware recently put on the system.

[sighs] The quicker, the better.

I'm not seeing anything in applications or the operating system.

Root: Try the firmware.

[delivery man groans]

[thump]

[delivery man groans]

Something tells me he's not going to be making any more unwanted advances.

Let's stay on task, Harry.

Appears you were right, Miss Groves.

There is some code here in the firmware that doesn't belong.

Can you copy it?

Done.

[groans]

Goodness. Garrett, are you okay?

What happened?

[sighs]

You have siblings?

No.

I just had one, Paul.

He was eight years older than me.

Oh, that's a big age difference.

Yeah, Paul pretty much raised me.

Our dad wasn't around much.

The Army took up most of his time.

My dad too.

I was only 10 when Paul enlisted, decided to follow in our dad's footsteps.

Over the next few years, I only saw him around the holidays, if at all.

It was always the same conversation.

He'd ask me about school, and I'd pretend to be interested in the Army.

Truth was, we hardly knew each other anymore.

So your brother was k*lled in action?

The major who notified us said that Paul d*ed heroically in the service of his country.

Wouldn't say more than that.

Paul's job was classified.

I never cared what Paul did for the Army.

I just... wanted to know what happened to him.

After a few years at the firm, I was in a position to find out.

By stealing classified m*llitary files?

Yes, okay. A couple of times.

But... it felt like my last chance to know my brother, who he was.

Is that crazy?

No.

I know what it's like to lose someone, to want to know why.

Well, all I learned was, Paul was no hero.

Why do you say that?

He was under investigation for treason.

Treason?

Do you still have access to the photos you took of his file?

Yeah.

Those g*ons might have taken my cell phone but not before I uploaded everything to the cloud.

This says Paul went to work for the Pentagon as an intelligence officer.

It's after that, the part about the investigation.

He was in Afghanistan as a m*llitary advisor, where the CIA suspected he was behind a stolen weapons shipment.

But why would a Pentagon intelligence officer be acting as a m*llitary advisor?

Unless it was a cover.

What is it?

Nothing.

Just need to figure out our next move.

Hey, Finch?

Mr. Reese.

Did you learn what it was Mr. Duncan was stealing?

Uh, information on his brother, about how he d*ed.

d*ed? What happened to him?

So we done here?

Unbelievable.

You break into my quarters, hold me c*ptive, wreck the place, and for what?

You know what I've given to this country, the risks I take every day I'm out there?

And this is how my own country chooses to repay me?

Sorry, but I'm owed a hell of a lot more than that.

You know what I've...

[g*nsh*t]

Now we're done.

Finch: John? John?

Reese: What?

What happened to Duncan's brother?

I k*lled him.

Now I see the connection.

Beale was running the Agency's investigation into Duncan's brother, and he was the one who sent me and Stanton after him.

Well, regardless of Duncan's desire to know how his brother d*ed, you cannot tell him you were involved.

It would make an already difficult situation untenable.

Reese: You're right about that.

Our priority now is to save his life.

With a little time, I could create a new identity for him, give him a fresh start in another country.

Reese: No, there's no place he could go that Beale wouldn't find him.

What I need to do is get Beale to back off.

How might you accomplish that?

I got an idea.

But I'm gonna need your help.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

Yeah. When?

Sir, Langley's detected an attempt to breach one of its databases.

The hacker is searching for information on Paul Duncan.

Can you trace the hack?

It appears to be coming from Times Square.

Turn around.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

That's impressive.

Duncan: I'm surprised that phony key card of yours got us inside.

Yeah, my guy does good work.

Security comes by every half hour.

Don't worry about them; just focus on what we came here for.

Okay, we have the location.

Let's go.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

agent: Sir. Look at this.

♪ ♪

Hello.

Your little ruse work?

I certainly hope so, for John's sake.

Root: I see you're running the malware we found on the truck.

Dissecting it.

Running it would be far too dangerous, seeing as one of its primary functions is to connect its host to Samaritan.

So what have you found out?

Well, once active, it attempts to access all the files in the infected device and send all that information to Samaritan.

So it's spyware?

Partially.

It also appears to have more advanced functions, but I haven't been able to decipher them just yet.

Good work, Harry.

Oh... and I solved your word puzzle.

What puzzle?

Root: The string of ones and zeros the Machine sent you.

It's not a program. It's a text file.

A poem?

Root: It's Emily Dickinson.

It's about change, metamorphosis.

Change what?

The Machine?

Us?

Maybe both.

Duncan: I never thought looking into Paul's death could get me k*lled.

Arrested, maybe, but not dead.

This is about more than your brother.

He must've gotten close to something else.

Reese: Something sensitive.

I'm back in. What am I looking for?

Reese: Any files that reference what your brother was doing for the Pentagon.

Okay, here's something.

It's a brief to Paul about an incoming weapons shipment that was a part of something called Desert Rain.

Desert Rain?

Paul: It says here it was a joint operation between the Pentagon and the CIA.

"Supplying arms to our allies, the Afghan National Police and Army."

What kind of arms?

Uh, small arms, light weapons, and surface-to-air missiles.

Stingers, but those were restricted from going to our foreign allies.

Too risky... they could wind up in enemy hands, which is why this entire op was being conducted off the books without Congressional approval.

Move, please.

The CIA suspected Paul of selling one of these weapons shipments.

So when I looked up his records...

They thought you were digging up information on their operation, which, if it got out, would take down some very powerful people.

We need to get the hell out of here. Come on!

Let's go.

[dramatic music]

[whispering] Come on. Come on.

♪ ♪

Drop it! Or I will put you down.

Okay.

But where's Beale?

Nice to see you again, John.

Beale: Thought my eyes were playing tricks on me the other night, you being dead and all.

But then I saw that move with the steering wheel.

So creative.

I should've known if anyone could cheat death, it would be you, John.

How does he know your name?

John and I used to work together.

You worked for the CIA?

A lifetime ago.

So this is what you're doing for work these days?

It's not that different from my old job.

Just not k*lling people anymore.

But you are interfering with Agency business.

The Agency's business is k*lling civilians now?

Civilians? Or spies?

I'm not a spy.

I just wanted to know what happened to my brother.

You didn't tell him?

Tell me what?

Something about Paul? Why's he talking to you?

Because I was there.

My partner and I were sent to question him about selling information to the enemy.

You? So then you must know.

Was Paul a traitor?

Tell me what happened.

We questioned him, and then... we left, because Paul was innocent.

Duncan: Innocent?

Your brother had a tough job, working in a w*r zone, where it was hard to tell the allies from the enemies.

He could've lost his way, but he stayed true to himself and his mission.

Reese: A few days after we left, he was hit by an air strike in a nearby village, where he was doing his job... making a difference.

What he's saying, is it the truth?

Yeah.

Like he said, your brother was a hero.

Now I'm afraid there's still some... unfinished business we need to take care of.

There always is.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[g*n cocks]

This ends now.

You understand?

Well, my driving days are done.

You quit?

Fired.

One too many safety violations.

Finch: What is it that you've fashioned here?

Oh, I installed the malware on it, and I'm letting it run.

You what?

Were you not listening when I said its most basic function is to establish a connection with Samaritan?

Yes, which is why it's air gapped, wireless disabled, and running on rechargeable batteries.

It's isolated.

But why do this?

The poem the Machine sent us about metamorphosis, I think she wants us to let the malware run its course.

And I've already made a discovery.

What?

The malware is replicating itself and overwriting the laptop's existing code.

It's working towards something.

I still think you're taking an enormous risk.

Yes. Our only option is to take risks, big ones, if we want any chance of finding Shaw or a way to defeat Samaritan.

We have to be willing to do whatever it takes now, or we've already lost.

It's no risk, no reward, Harry.

Hello, Beale.

Must be losing your touch.

I made you three blocks back.

[chuckling] Hell, I know.

I was enjoying the walk.

So where's your friend Duncan?

He took a vacation.

Not that it matters to you, 'cause you're gonna forget about him.

And why would I do that?

Because if anything happens to Duncan, my associate and I will make sure the details about Operation Desert Rain go public.

It'll end some careers.

Might even see a few prosecutions.

So you're saying you and I are going to have to trust each other again?

Suppose I am.

If all this was about the kid needing the truth about his brother, why not just give it to him?

Duncan wanted to know how Paul d*ed, but what he needed was to believe his brother was a hero so he could let it go.

You were always good at doing what needed to be done.

Glad to see some things haven't changed.

But a lot has.

It's a brave new world out there.

Needs people like us more than ever.

That's not a good thing.

It's neither good nor bad.

Just the way it is.

We didn't make the world like this.

Didn't we?

I'll be leaving your name out of my report.

As far as the Agency is concerned, you're still dead.

Why would you do that?

Might be because you could've k*lled me the other night but you didn't.

Or maybe I like knowing you're out there, a ghost, still doing what needs to be done.

How'd you know it had a false bottom?

I didn't.

Then why'd you sh**t him?

He was justifying too much for someone who still believed in the mission.

He thought the country owed him.

Of course he took the money.

You know why Beale really picked you over the other recruits?

You saying it wasn't my test scores?

[chuckles quietly]

It was where you came from.

You had no family, at least no real family.

And after losing your adoptive mother, you were on your own.

Beale knew that you'd give everything to the Agency, because you didn't have anyone or anything to go back to.

Except the girlfriend, and you didn't hesitate to walk away from her.

Only because I had to.

That's right, because we don't get normal lives, and you can't miss what you never had.

That's why Beale picked us and why we're so good at our jobs.

♪ ♪

Iris: When you said you wanted to take a walk, I didn't know you meant alone.

Hmm?

[laughs]

You're just more quiet and brooding than usual.

Sorry.

Is it work?

Or your side job?

Look, I haven't pressured you to talk about it, but I notice things.

Odd hours. Random cuts and bruises.

Blood on your shirt cuff at lunch the other day.

You caught that, huh?

I read people for a living, remember?

Well, you... read me pretty well, better than just about anyone ever has.

But it's not the work that's the problem.

It's my past.

Your past isn't anything that you can control.

Your future is.

I wish it were that simple.

But the things I've done...

You don't have to be that person anymore.

Actually, I do... and that person doesn't get to have a normal life.

Says who, hmm?

The job.

And when will the job be done, John?

[sighs]

Well, I hope for your sake, one day you get to be someone else, maybe have that normal life.

Maybe one day.

Just not today.

And not with me.

Good-bye, John.

[cell phone rings]

Yeah, Finch.

Finch: Mr. Reese? We have a new number.

I'm on my way.

[romantic music]

♪ ♪

[sweeping music]