03x11 - Lethe

Episode transcripts for the 2011 TV show "Person of Interest". Aired September 22, 2011 - June 21, 2016.*
Watch/Buy Amazon  Merchandise


A former CIA operative is recruited by an enigmatic billionaire to prevent violent crimes.
Post Reply

03x11 - Lethe

Post by bunniefuu »

(Simmons) Time's up.

[g*nsh*t]

Told you I'd end you.

(Carter) Answer me!


[Phone rings]

(Shaw) Finch, we've got a problem.

(Fusco) Reese has really gone off the reservation this time.

(Shaw) We're out of options. We need Root.

(Finch) I know this is our only option, Ms. Shaw.

I just want to make sure we're prepared for what may happen.


Mr. Reese, we save lives.

You save lives.

Not all of them.

[Garbled radio transmissions]

[Cell phone rings]

Ms. Shaw.

We have a new number yet?

(Finch) No, not at this time.

It's been a while.

Guess the city's scumbags have been behaving.

We could use a little quiet.

(Shaw) I don't do quiet.

That's why I took this job, and the one before that.

Not sure I appreciate being associated with your former employers, who tried to k*ll you.

It's not like this job's any safer.

Speaking of quiet, have you heard from Reese?

As soon as he was strong enough to stand, he left without a word.

Any idea where he went or when he's coming back?

I'm afraid only Mr. Reese can answer those questions.

Good-bye, Ms. Shaw.

[Cell phone beeps]

[Pay phone rings]

[Ringing continues]

[Multiple pay phones ringing]

[Ringing continues]

[Country music playing]



[Indistinct chatter on TV]

Whiskey.

[Pool balls clatter]

Just keep 'em coming.

Another game, double or nothing?

Okay.

What're you trying to pull?

You think you can hustle me?

Come on, man, it's just a lucky sh*t.

Well, your luck just ran out, pal.

Fellas, hey-- hey!

Hey, come on, somebody help me!

Take it easy, guys!

Let me know if this is taking it easy.

[Men grunting]

Agh, stop!


I'll be going out for provisions later.

Please let me know if there's anything in particular you require.

Just a book from your cart.

Top shelf, third from the right.

False Gods, Pseudepigrapha In The Modern Age?

Doing a little light reading, Ms. Groves?

I know it's been hard for you, Harold, what with everything you've been through.

And now even John's left.

Still, you really shouldn't take it out on her.

I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.

I'm talking... about you ignoring her.

She has a new number for us.

How did you get this?

Are you communicating with the machine?

I understand why you want to quit, Harold.

But now is not the time.

She wants us to work together.

I knew you were holding out on me.

Must you do that?

So we have another number.

I haven't decided.

Decided?

I didn't think you got to decide.

Actually, I do.

Okay, well, is that going to happen anytime soon, or should I be looking for some action elsewhere?

Arthur Claypool.


Something wrong, Finch?

No, nothing. We should get to work.

[Keyboard clicking]

[Garbled radio transmissions]

(Finch) You're in the hospital's employee database as Dr. Anne Moore.

You sure you don't want to play MD, Harold?

I never made a convincing doctor, even when I was one.

No, I think it's best if I stay here and find out as much as possible about Claypool.

So what are the details on this guy?

He lives and works in Maryland.

Until recently, he was an IT consultant at a software company, Runyon Technology Solutions.

His most recent credit card charges are at the hospital gift shop.

What room's he in?

That's the strange part.

There's no record of him in the hospital's admissions system.


I got him. He's here.

Then his medical records must be on file.

I found them.


According to this, his diagnosis is glioblastoma multiforme.

Brain tumor. Does it give a prognosis?

Terminal.

So, assuming this guy is the victim, who would want to k*ll a dying man?

I suppose that's what we need to find out.

And how are you doing today, Mr. Claypool?

I suspect more honeybee than dragonfly.

Excuse me?

Lifespans.

Dragonfly is four months. Honeybee is four weeks.

Well, so long as you don't go mayfly on me, we won't have a problem.

Are you new?

Or have I just forgotten you?

You haven't forgotten me.

Oh, well, give it time.

My mind, it's like a computer with a corrupted file system.

I know I want to remember something, and I go to open the file, and then it's just gone.

And then, the next thing I know, memories come flooding back and out of me like a loon.

Including a few that really shouldn't.

And what memories are those?

Mr. Claypool?

Have you hard-coded the essential values?

I'm sorry?

We must check the database after every operation.

Excuse me, Doctor...

Moore.

I haven't seen you on this floor before.

That's because I haven't been here before.

I just transferred in.

From where?

New York General.

What's your specialty?

Clinical oncology and palliative care.

What's yours?

Let me know if you need anything.

Sure.

Finch, Claypool has a government security detail.

What did you say his job was?

IT consultant. I realize that's somewhat vague.

A Maryland address, vague job title, security detail--

I'd say he's got top-secret clearance or better.

He said his tumor was causing memories to flood out of him, including some that shouldn't.

Could be... someone's planning on shutting him up for good.

His security detail is using a three-man wedge formation.

Meaning what?

Meaning they're Secret Service.

Finch... who the hell is this guy?

[Engine flooding]

[Sighs]

[Birds chirping]

Are they sparrows, dad?

Mm-mm-mm.

Oh, close.

Tell you what.

You help me with the truck, and I'll help you with the birds, hmm?

Okay.

[Sighs]

Engine's flooded, and I can't for the life of me figure out why.

Where's the socket wrench?

I had it right here in my hand.

Um, dad?

[Chuckles]

I don't know where my head is lately.

Here, you want to try one?

Don't lose it.

[Chuckles]

Gonna need every piece.

Nothing in here that doesn't have a reason to be.

Except the dirt.

[Phone rings]

I'll get that.

[Ringing continues]

Sorry, took longer than I--

Look.

I'll be damned.

But you're not supposed to take things apart like that.

You understand, Harold?

Well, if they don't want you to get inside, they ought to build them better.

[Bird chirping]

Okay, son.

You held up your end.

You still want to know what kind of bird that is?

Any progress, Ms. Shaw?

Claypool's security detail won't leave his side.

You find out anything more on your end?

No.

His minimal digital footprint tends to support your idea that he did secret work for the government, but it also makes it exceedingly difficult to determine the true nature of any thr*at.

Well, I can get rid of the guard dogs.

I just need a gallon of anything flammable.

What?

Oh, relax, Finch. We're in a hospital.

Ms. Shaw, I'm sure there are ways to get to Claypool that do not involve any kind of combustion.

Fine. But I'll need a partner.

You could be a hospital administrator.

I'm afraid I'm unable to do that.

Ms. Groves is requiring additional supervision at the moment.

Hang on.

Uh, Claypool has a visitor.

A woman, looks to be about his age.

Tall, brown hair.

(Finch) Like this?


[Cell phone vibrates]

Yes.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

(Shaw) Diane Claypool.

His wife. Records show they've been married a little over 20 years.

(Claypool) No-- no.

- Stop. (Diane) - Honey, please--

Wait, how did you get in here?

- Arthur, it's me. - How did you get in here?


The patient's in distress. Step aside.

He's not in distress-- just confused.

What do you want?

Nothing! I'm just here to see you.

I don't understand wh-- No, you--
you don't have any authority to be here.

I can't listen to you because this is a secure floor, and you don't have SCI clearance.

You are not at work.

Arthur, please, just look around.

You are in a hospital room.

First of all, who do you think you are to talk to me this way?

I'm Diane. I'm your wife.

You just don't remember.

[Crying]

No. No.

Uh... I don't have time for these games.

I am on a deadline.

I have to fix it.

Fix what?

Samaritan.

It has to be operational before they--

Okay, that's enough.

Samaritan? What are you talking about, Arthur?

They don't think I know what they're gonna do, but I actually do know what they're gonna do.

They want to k*ll it, but I will not let them.

I have taken precautions.

Just take it easy, Mr. Claypool.

He is not deceived who knows himself to be deceived.

Um, excuse me. I'll-- I'll be back.

Finch, did you hear that?

That seems to answer the question of whether Claypool worked for the government.

Yeah, on something called Samaritan?

The name is familiar.

I'll see what I can dig up.

Well, I don't think I'll be getting close to Claypool anytime soon.

But I can get to the next best thing.

(Woman on PA) Lab Technician to OR 6.

Lab Technician to OR 6.


[Coins clinking]

It's no Starbucks, but it gets the job done.

I hadn't really noticed.

I'm-- I'm sorry about the scene back there.

Oh.

[Chuckles]

Compared to what I'm used to, it's nothing.

I don't know how you do it.

Me, I hate hospitals.

And now it seems it's where I spend all my time.

When was he diagnosed?

About a year ago.

The signs were all there.

I just didn't want to see them.

He was getting lost in the neighborhood.

He had a change in his temperament.

Mrs. Claypool, do you know of anyone who'd want to hurt your husband?

Arthur?

No.

He was--

is the most gentle man.

Why would you ask?

His security detail.

Oh, them. No.

They're just here because of where he worked.

And where was that?

The National Security Agency.

He would not want me to tell you that, but I don't really see the point in hiding it anymore.

Your husband must be a pretty important guy.

I wouldn't know.

He never talked to me about his work, so I finally just stopped asking, and then... we kind of stopped talking altogether.

Talking's overrated.

I mean, that must have been really hard.

Not as hard as realizing the person you spent half your life with doesn't even know who you are anymore.

And I suppose that's why I keep coming back here.

Just on the hope that Arthur will remember who I am, even for a moment, and if he does, I'm going to be there.

I'm sorry.

I... should get back to work.

His security detail is gone.

(Finch) And Claypool?


[Tense music]



Excuse me.

Mm-hmm?

Where is the patient that was assigned to this room?

Oh, he was taken to Radiology.

Finch, Claypool's wife said he was NSA.

That fits.

I knew I'd heard Samaritan before.

It was a classified NSA project.

Congress de-funded and then shut it down in 2005, which is clearly the time Claypool is living in.

Well, if Claypool was career NSA, then he'd be read in on all sorts of top-secret information.

Information he's now shouting for anyone to hear.

Well, I can think of about 15 foreign intelligence agencies that would k*ll for that intel.

That occurred to me as well.

As did the possibility that the thr*at may be from his own security detail.

To protect the government's secrets.

You need to get close to him.

Easier said than done.

[Suspenseful music]



[Grunting]

Okay, I'm in.

Be careful, Ms. Shaw.

I have no backup that I can send you.

Well, then, I'll be quick.

Relax, Mr. Claypool.

Wait a minute.

A syringe in the trashcan?

Claypool would have been injected with a radio tracer prior to his scan.

[Sniffs]

It's sodium pentothol.

Who has them?

Rudy.

And where is Rudy?

This isn't a scan. It's an interrogation.

Is everything all right?

[Door slams]

(Shaw) No.

Whoever the thr*at against Claypool is, they're already here.

Freeze! Don't move.

Ms. Shaw?

So much for being quick.

What you building there, son?

It's an array of floating gate transistors, configured as a series of NAND gates.

[Circuit board clicking]

It's a memory system. Watch.

"D"... "A"... "D".

Now just watch this.

"Dad."

I'm making you a memory to help you remember stuff like turning off the stove, and if I keep working on it, I think I can make it so it can remember all the things that you can't.

Now, we talked about this.

I mean, what's wrong with me can't be fixed by you or by anybody else, okay?

But what if I build a machine with lots of memory, one that could think?

[Chuckles]

Well, even if you could, even if you could fill it with all my memories, it still wouldn't be me.

You know, not everything that's broken was meant to be fixed.

You understand?

[Garbled radio transmissions]
[Cell phone ringing]

Hello?

Ms. Shaw?

I figured it was you. How'd you find me?

I triangulated the phone nearest to your last GPS signal.

Where are you?

Locked in an office. Easton took my g*ns and phone.

I assumed as much, which is why I've relocated to better monitor the situation.

You're here?

I'm in the parking lot.

Good. While I figure out a way out of this, you can keep an eye on Claypool.

Um, I think it best if I remain here and try to identify who drugged him.

Finch, why--

Oh, I found something.

The woman posing as the Imaging Technician, she avoided the cameras by wearing a hat on the way out, but before that, she logged into the Imaging Room's computer.

An Elizabeth Ross.

We need to find out what she was interrogating Claypool about.

I couldn't tell.

I just heard him say the name "Rudy."

[Keys jingle, lock clicks]

Dr. Moore.

Or whatever your name is.

Please.

Whoever put this identity together for you really knew what they were doing.

Which brings me to my next questions.

Who are you, and what do you want with Arthur Claypool?

[Garbled radio transmissions]

[Pool balls clicking]

[Country music playing]

[Indistinct chatter]

Hello, Lionel.

[Sighs]

Finch send you?

He's worried about you.

Hell, we all are.

How'd you find me?

What do you think, I won my detective shield in a poker game?

Glasses helped a little.

Go home, Detective.

Lionel--

I heard you.

You know what? This is a public place.

I've got just as much right to be here as you.

Fine.

But if you're gonna sit here, you're gonna drink and not talk.

You understand?

Fine by me.

Whiskey. Double.

Bourbon and soda. Hold the bourbon.

(Easton) So what agency do you work with?

FSB, MSS?

You're wasting your time.

You should be protecting Claypool.

That tech dosed him with sodium pentothol.

How would you know something like that?

The same way you would, if you'd done any real field work.

You know, I can make things very unpleasant for you.

Unpleasant?

[Chuckles]

Oh, you Service boys are so polite.

Look, whoever came after Claypool didn't get what they want.

They will try again.

[Sniffs, coughs]

You all right there, Dudley?

You don't look so good.

[Suspenseful music]



Finch...

any chance you spiked the Secret Service guy's fried rice?

No.

Then we have a problem.

Indeed.

I think I've identified the thr*at to Claypool.

As a longtime employee of the NSA, he'd be a prime target for anyone obsessed with exposing the government's secret surveillance operations.

And then I remembered the technician's name.

Elizabeth Ross.

A name shared with a hero of the Revolutionary w*r, more commonly known as Betsey Ross.

Revolutionary w*r?

I'll give you one guess who that might be.

Vigilance. And they're here.

It's Collier.

Doctor?

Why do you have a g*n?

What happened to his guards?

We have to go.

Why?

Because there are people coming after your husband.

What kind of people?

The kind you need a g*n for. Grab his clothes.

Mr. Claypool.

Wake up.

What?

You need to come with us, sir.

Why? Where are we going?

To a nicer room.

No, I don't want a nicer room.

Sir, sir, you really--

Just listen to her.

Just listen to what she tells you.

Who are you?

If we can get you out of here--

What are you doing with my clothes?

Let go of me, both of you, or I'll have you removed!

He won't come with me, Harold.

Please calm down.

Harold, I--

- Arthur, come on.

We need to leave.

Harold?

That's right.

Finally, somebody I recognize.

How long has it been?

Quite some time.

Sandra's parents are going out of town.

Kegs flowing.

What about you, Harold? You coming?

[Rock music playing]

When was the last time they changed that sign?

Why would they need to?

Exactly.

Paris has a population of 9 million.

Who cares?

You can't get to Paris from Lassiter.



I'll take you to Paris.



[Line ringing]

[Whistle peeps]

[Line beeps, buzzes]

[Line ringing]

(Man) Allo? Allo?

C'est qui?


[Laughing]

Holy crap.

How'd you do that?

Tu fais quoi?

(Stewart) Dude, that was way too much fun to be legal.


Harold.

I'm gonna need you to come with me.

It's about your dad.

So you two know each other?

Harold and I go all the way back to MIT.

The mighty engineers, huh?

You should have seen us, two young turks at the dawn of the information age.

We were gonna shape the future, remember, Harold?

I do.

Yes, but so do I.

You're limping. Are you hurt?

No, it's just an old injury that never healed quite right.

This way.

- You know, Harold was the most brilliant of all of us.

If anybody was going to change the world, we knew it would be him.

You know, what did you end up doing?

What's your field of expertise?


Insurance.

(Man)

He's got a g*n!

[People screaming]

[Dramatic music]



Who are those people?

Why are they sh**ting at us? What do they want?

You, Arthur.

Me?

What did I do to them?

Okay. Okay.

[Sirens wailing in the distance]

[Tires squeal]

[Screams]

[Garbled radio transmissions]

(Finch)

Okay, you'll be safe here while I make arrangements to get you both out of harm's way.

Harm's way? Why, are we in danger?

Oh, yes, the g*n people.

What was that all about?

Your job, Arthur.

My job?

You did work for the NSA?

Not in front of her.

Arthur--

Yes, I worked for them.

I expect the people sh**ting at us knew that as well.

They're not trying to k*ll you, Arthur, at least not until they get some information out of you.

What information?

When you were being scanned at the hospital, the technician asked you who had them.

Them.

And you answered, "Rudy."

I did?

Who were you talking about?

Uh, um...

I don't know. I'm sorry.

That's all right. Why don't you rest?

Harold... what do you have to do with all this?

I just heard that you might be in some trouble.

Come on, let's get you settled.

You really shouldn't stand so close to the windows.

Who are you people?

We're the ones keeping you and your husband safe.

What about his security detail?

Shouldn't the Secret Service know we're here?

Right now, the only people I trust are in this room.

[Sighs]

[Garbled radio transmissions]

You feeling better?

Harold, do you recall Arise, Ye Sons Of MIT?

Oh, I--

♪ arise, ye sons ♪
♪ of MIT ♪
♪ in loyal brotherhood ♪
♪ the future beckons unto ye ♪
♪ and life is full and good ♪

[Together]

♪ arise, and raise ♪
♪ your steins on high ♪
♪ tonight shall ever be ♪
♪ a memory that will never die ♪
♪ ye sons of MIT ♪

John's gonna be sorry he missed that.

Now, Arthur, what was Samaritan?

Arthur.

Oh, Samaritan is truly a remarkable project.

You say it is remarkable. Tell me about it.

Its primary function is to detect potential acts of terror through analysis of large data sets.

Specifically, it will have the ability to anticipate acts of aggression
and suggest strategic countermeasures before the perpetrators can act.

It sounds like quite a project.

Oh, Samaritan is revolutionary.

Not so much for what it does, but how it does it.

The system was designed to function autonomously, to continually adapt and upgrade itself through past experiences.

You're saying that it can remember and learn.

Yes.

Harold, it's what we always dreamed of.

Samaritan is a true artificial intelligence.

You're right, Arthur.

That is remarkable.

Excuse me.

Mm.

Is he talking about what I think he's talking about?

It would appear so.

[Stutters]

But then that would mean--

That there was a second machine.

And Arthur built it.

[Garbled radio transmissions]

(State trooper) Copy that.

I found Harold, and I'm taking them both home now.

(Woman on dispatch) Ten-four.


Son, he wandered half a mile away from home tonight.

What happens when it drops below zero?

If you're stretched past the point where you can give him what he needs, maybe it's time to find a place that can.

I'm sorry, son.

[Engine turns over]

I don't know why this keeps happening.

I forget who people are, where I am.

It's okay, dad.

No, it's not.

You have greatness in you, Harold.

Your mind, the things that you can see--

It's not-- Dad--

And it's wasted here.

You should be heading off to college, not taking care of an old man.

I'm not going anywhere.

And besides, they're building a computer network right now that's going to connect all the universities in the country.

If I can't leave town, I'll bring the information to me.

I'll find a way.

Careful, son. Don't be reckless.

Don't get yourself into something you shouldn't.

If they don't want you to get inside, they ought to build it better.

Well--

Come on.

This machine you built, Arthur...

Huh?

Samaritan-- where is it now?

Nowhere.

Samaritan was destroyed years ago.

2005.

Destroyed? Why?

Well, after 9/11, the government had everyone and their cat trying to build a system that could watch everything.

They came to you as well.

Yes. I told them the only way they could achieve what they wanted was to build something that not only watched, but understood what it was watching.

An AI.

I know you always said artificial intelligence was a fool's errand, Harold, but...

I was this close.

Close?

To making Samaritan operational.

Truth is, I couldn't get it to work.

I mean, I could've, if those pinhead bureaucrats would have just given me a few more weeks.

I know I could have cracked it.

And that's when Congress shut you down.

Well, not just us. All the programs.

Stellar Wind, Tides, Genysis, Futuremap, Genoa.

Within six months, they were all gone.

They came for Samaritan February 25, 2005.

For fear of "Violating civil liberties," or so they said.

And you thought there was another reason.

The government wanted a system, Harold.

They weren't just going to give up.

They let Congress shut us down, all except for that piece of crap Prism, but that was just to throw anyone off the scent.

Of what?

[Sighs]

They'd already found it.

Someone else had got there first.

And built it.

[Dramatic music]

[Garbled radio transmissions]

When I said "Drink", I didn't mean club soda.

[Thunder rumbles]

Finch appoint you to be my designated driver too?

No, smart guy.

I'm two years sober.

Why?

Because back when I was doing a lot of stupid things, drinking was one of them.

And then this jackass in a suit showed up on my backseat and forced me at gunpoint to help him and take a look at who I was.

Why'd I quit drinking?

You.

Don't let it go to your head.

Another.

What do you think, you're the only one that's hurting?

My partner got sh*t.

So tell me how hiding out in your old man's watering hole is gonna fix it.

[The Sky Is Crying
playing]

♪ the tears rolling down my nose ♪
♪ the sky is crying ♪


I saw the sign for the army base about five miles back.

I thought maybe this was where you were stationed.

Until I saw the picture.

And the resemblance.

[Rain pattering]

My dad was here before he was deployed to Vietnam.

Did four tours.

He was a bona fide w*r hero.

- Was he k*lled in action? - No.

At the refinery where he worked.

Hadn't even been home two months.

That's rough.

But what's that have to do with what happened to Carter?

Nothing.

Just proves that no matter what we do or don't do in this world, bad things are still gonna happen.

It's... pointless.

Irrelevant.

How can you say that?

You saved lots of people, including me.

You're saying that was pointless?

All right.

Let's go.

[Snorts]

I'm not leaving.

I wasn't talking about leaving.

♪ she was walking on down the street ♪

[Grunts]

[Thunder rumbles]

I'm not gonna fight you, Lionel.

Hey!

♪ until my poor heart would skip a b*at ♪

Come on.

[Grunting]

Come on.

♪ I got a bad feeling ♪
♪ that my baby, my baby don't love me no more ♪




[Groans]

♪ I got a bad feeling ♪
♪ my baby don't love me no more ♪


Come on.

[Yelling]

[Both grunting and groaning]

♪ you know the sky's been cryin' ♪
♪ the tears rolling down my nose ♪


[Siren blips]

Okay, that should do it.

This time tomorrow, Arthur and Diane Claypool will be Henry and Elaine McCarthy.

I've also arranged a room for Arthur at a Toronto hospital.

We'll leave first thing in the morning.

(Diane) If there's anything I can do--

Enough!

[Breathing heavily]

I'm sorry, I was just trying to talk to him.

Who are you?

Why don't you just leave me alone?

Arthur, it's okay.

No.

And you can't keep me here.

The truth fears no questions.

Arthur, it's me, Harold.

Harold?

And this is Diane, your wife.

How come I remember you and not her?

Because tumors do mysterious things to memory.

No.

It's like you said.

Your file system is corrupted.

No. That's not it.

[Breathing shakily]

I remember Diane.

Diane is dead.

I buried her two years ago, on June 12, 2011.

[Ominous music]

You do remember.

Go.

[Door slams open]

[Grunting]

I suppose this was inevitable.

And seeing as how time is a luxury we no longer have--

Hersh.

Perimeter is secure, ma'am.

Ma'am?

He works for you?

As did you at one time, Agent Shaw.

I assume you always wanted to meet me.

Control.

I was concerned that you might disrupt my attempts to get close to Arthur.

However, you proved to be quite useful, saving him from those misguided privacy t*rrorists and arranging it so I could meet your employer, who I've heard so much about.

By the way, I didn't catch your last name, Harold.

What is it that you want from Arthur?

Just information.

The location of his greatest achievement, Samaritan.

Samar-- No. Samaritan was destroyed.

I know the official story, Arthur.

I also know about the drives.

So... where are they?

I don't know what you're talking about.

All right, stop it. He's telling you the truth.

He doesn't know.

I'll find out soon enough.

And since you and I have had the good fortune of meeting, you can help me recover something else that belongs to me.

Your greatest achievement.

Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that.

One of you is going to tell me what it is I want to know.

And whoever does... will be the one who gets to leave here... alive.

[Dramatic music]

Post Reply