03x18 - Allegiance

[bunniefuu]

(Finch)

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system-- a machine that spies on you every hour of every day.

I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything...

Violent crimes involving ordinary people.

The government considers these people irrelevant.

We don't.

Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator, if your number's up, we'll find you.

Bear!

No, no, no, no.

He found the treats.

Come on. Go!

He's a m*llitary working dog, Finch.

Search and rescue, trained to track people, uncover expl*sives.

I suppose Moliere is no challenge at all.

Maybe I should have Bear track down Ms. Shaw.

I thought you put her on the new number.

I did, but communication is not her strong suit.

[Softly]

Tally-ho, Finch.

Our engineer's in sight.

These turbine blades are missing a customs clearance.

As soon as they get to Kenya, the locals will demand a bribe to clear them.

But, since we're out of time, call Benny at the Mombasa customs house.

(Maria) Tell him there's a bottle of Kentucky bourbon with his name on it.

Our girl's got more foreign contacts than Reese and I combined.

(Finch) Indeed. Maria Martinez is quite the world traveler.

Masters in engineering from Stanford.

She works for Hydral Corp, a private energy company.

She's currently working on reconstruction projects in third-world countries.

She digs wells?

Builds multimillion-dollar generators is more like it.

Her last project was replacing the generators inside a hydroelectric dam in Iraq.

Maria!

Great work here, adding the GPS trackers.

Considering everything we went through to get those generators into the country and assemble them.

Can't afford to lose anything, like we did in Iraq.

We have to make sure our supply chain and sources are beyond reproach.

(Finch) That's Ken Davis, Maria's boss.

He runs Hydral Corp.

[Phone vibrates]

Excuse me, I have to take this.

(Maria) Hello?

(Man's voice over phone)

[Speaking Arabic] Hello.

[Speaking Arabic]

Hello.

The package is ready.

But we can't talk on the phone.

Meet at the usual place in an hour.

Yeah.

[Phone beeps off]

Didn't see that comin'.

Maria just took a five-finger discount on a GPS tracker.

I'm sorry, I have to go.

Everything all right?

Just a meeting with a supplier I forgot about.

Mm, okay.

Thank you.

And she lied to her boss.

Plus this delivery of a mysterious package?

Sounds like pre-operational tactics.

Tactics? Of what?

A t*rror1st cell.

If Maria were a relevant number, she would fall under the government's purview.

Maybe the machine got its wires crossed.

Ever since it's had that cochlear cuckoo on speed dial--

I fail to see how its relationship with Ms. Groves has anything to do with this.

[g*n clicks]

Do you really think that our number could be a t*rror1st?

[g*n cocks]

I believe Shaw's gonna need our backup.

[Phone line beeps]

(Root) Hello, Harold.

You wanted to talk to me? Or her?

How did you--

Never mind.

I was curious--

I don't know anything about your little number, Harold.

I'm pursing a much larger objective.

The chip that Decima stole.

Has the machine directed you to--

That chip has already been back-engineered and thousands of copies are being generated as we speak.

Enough to run Samaritan at full power.

The machine has alerted me that our elusive adversary is back in town.

Eliminating him might be our last chance at stopping Samaritan.

I'll be in touch the next time my ear starts burning.

[British accent]

Do you have my position?

Good.

I've made a new friend, but I'm not feeling particularly sociable.

Have our asset at Parkhurst Security go blind.

(Root)

Direction?

Got it.

A little volume, please.

[Distorted footsteps and feedback through PA]

There you are.

Going dark.

Rendez-vous in two minutes.

[g*n clicks]

What the hell, lady?

Sorry.

Thought you were my uncle.

Beirut.

Baghdad.

Baghdad for masguf.

S*ddam knew his fish.

I'll give you that.

But shawarma?

[Chuckles]

Beirut, hands down.

He can't go back.

I'm doing everything I can.

They won't release him.

We must do something now.

I traced Maria's earlier phone call.

Jamal Risha is an Iraqi who immigrated to the US two years ago.

This man, he won't see me.

He won't even talk to me.

He's the only thing blocking Omar.

We can't just leave my brother behind.

Finch, you hear that?

According to the Immigration and Customs Enforcement database, Omar Risha was detained by the Department Of Homeland Security after landing at JFK a week ago.

Where are they holding him now?

A high-security detention center in Manhattan under special administrative measures.

Those are reserved for terrorism suspects.

We have a small window of opportunity to make an impact.

This should open their eyes.

Big bombs keep coming in little packages.

Like the shoe bomber.

[Speaking Arabic]

Good luck.

[Speaking Arabic]

Thank you, Jamal.

I'll keep eyes on Jamal.

See if he has any other contacts.

I'll stick close to our friend Maria.

Figure out what the hell she's gotten herself into.

Thanks for the sandwich.

But why do you gotta drag me all the way up here, just to watch your girl snap a few memories?

When's the last time you saw a New Yorker from The Village take tourist photos at the UN?

Mm.

That's a good point.

If you're so smart, what do you need me for?

[Knocks on window]

You can't park here!

Security precaution.

Yeah, I got one of those.

Way to make yourself useful, Lionel.

You know, I don't understand all the hoopla with the UN anyway.

Bunch of silver-spoon bureaucrats, if you ask me.

And don't even get me started with the extraterritorial privileges either.

Oh, I should've just stolen a badge.

How many countries you think there are in the UN?

Like 50-something?

193.

You know, you really should get out more.

Learn something about other cultures.

What are you talking about?

I just ate a falafel.

Yeah, and you got some on your tie.

[Scoffs]

That's the second tie this week.

Maria's taking photos of the interior of the UN compound.

Surveillance is the last planning stage before an att*ck.

Wait.

She's not sh**ting the compound.

She's taking pictures of this guy.

Photo's on its way, Finch.

I don't know who the suit is.

The man in the photo is Rene Lapointe, a French diplomat and current United Nations High Commissioner for refugees.

He's responsible for approving the asylum request of Jamal's brother Omar.

He just triggered our Jihad Jane to go live.

[Tires screech, horn blares]

(Shaw) Maria just stopped his car.

She's putting something--

(Finch) Miss Shaw, what is it?

(Shaw) Oh, that was smooth.

I couldn't have done that better myself.

She just placed the GPS tracker onto Lapointe's limo.

(Finch) She's tracking him.

Taxi!

(Shaw) And, more importantly...

I think we just identified her target.

All these fat-cat diplomats travel all over the world, eatin' on someone else's dime while they talk about feeding the poor.

Maybe you ought to consider applying for a passport.

I have a passport.

My ex and I went to Saint Thomas for our honeymoon.

You mean the US Virgin Islands?

Okay, there's our girl.

(Fusco) Your engineer pulls one hell of a changing act.

(Shaw) Yeah, dressed to k*ll.

She's still got that package in her shoulder bag.

Go ahead, I'll watch the front.

[Overlapping chatter]

We might have a problem, Finch.

(Shaw) Maria's closing in on her target.

You want proof? There's proof.

Is everything all right, Ms. Shaw?

False alarm.

Unless we're worried about paper cuts.

[French accent]

Sorry, do I know you?

Omar Risha is not a t*rror1st.

He worked for US forces in Iraq and for my company as a translator.

There's a recommendation in here from my boss Ken Davis.

What more proof do you want?

Let me guess.

You must be Maria?

In person.

Maria, the US Department Of Homeland Security has asked me to weigh all the evidence before classifying refugees.

What evidence do you have to the contrary?

That is confidential.

But, let me assure you, Omar Risha will have a fair hearing.

Now if you'll excuse me.

Look, I get it.

Just tell me... what's the going rate?

Are you insane?

I am not leaving until I get an answer.

(Lapointe) - Security!

Excuse me, ma'am.

Please come with us.

[Greek accent]

Sorry, gentlemen.

She's with me.

It's okay, I know her.

Allow me to take care of this.

[Overlapping chatter]

Finch?

Maria was about to get tossed out when this guy stepped in.

You work with Ken Davis.

He's a friend.

I'm sorry about all this.

I don't wanna burden you with my problems.

What's this all about?

My former interpreter from Iraq is being held on suspicion of terrorism and might be deported.

I know it's a false allegation.

But that jerk won't believe me.

Monsieur Lapointe may be lazy, even corrupt, but you don't get all that power by being a nice guy.

There are ways around men like him.

I don't know what else to do.

Perhaps I can help.

Without companies like Hydral Corp that build infrastructure, the United Nations would never accomplish anything.

Unfortunately, some of the old guard prefer to bite the hand that feeds.

Let me make a few calls.

If you need anything else...

Thank you.

Looks like Maria just found herself a white knight.

Christos Sevon.

A career diplomat from Greece currently serving on the UN Sustainable Energy program.

He raises funds to support reconstruction projects like the one Maria worked on in Iraq.

Well, he's offered to help get Omar into the country.

Let's hope that he doesn't live to regret that decision.

We need to get a look at that evidence against Omar.

Sounds like Omar could use a good lawyer.

Perhaps it's time Mr. Reese and I did a little pro bono work.

How can I help you and your associates, Mr. Kingfisher?

My firm represents several refugees who worked for the US government in Iraq now seeking asylum.

There are concerns about refugees from Iraq immigrating to the US.

Yes, we're-- we're aware.

One of our clients--

Omar Risha-- is being detained for alleged links to terrorism.

I know Monsieur Risha's case well.

In fact, I have to make a final decision on it this week.

May I?

If I'm to prepare a legal defense, I require all of the facts.

You may review it, but here.

Thank you.

I received that letter from the Iraqi government last week.

The Ministry of the Interior say they have proof that Omar is involved in t*rror1st activity.

I'm sorry.

Um, the Ministry of the Interior is hardly reliable.

It's full of former Shia militia members.

They view Iraqis that helped American forces as traitors.

Three years ago, two t*rrorists who k*lled US soldiers in Iraq were discovered living in Bowling Green, Kentucky.

They fooled Immigration officials by posing as former interpreters.

Yes, but, surely, such an isolated case should not affect the plight of thousands.

I can't afford to put my signature on an application of a potential t*rror1st, however small the probability.

If one more t*rror1st slips through, it will jeopardize all the other refugees seeking asylum.

You understand.

(Finch) Understood.

Thank you for your time.

Thank you.

[Device whirring]

[Device grinds and goes silent]

Well, it's difficult to determine the authenticity of the letter.

Any new developments on your end, Ms. Shaw?

She takes the 7 train to get home.

Does that help?

Jamal, good news.

I found someone in a position we can leverage.

Call me back, and I'll explain.

[Sighs]

[Door buzzes]

Thank you.

[Speaking French]

You're welcome.

[Door closes]

How many extra mags you got?

Extra mags? You serious?

Finch, we're gonna need some backup.

[Elevator dings]

Mind?

[Elevator dings]

[Door closes]

Personally, I prefer potassium chloride to chloroform.

Acts quicker and no trace in postmortem toxicology.

[Screams]

[Grunts]

[Both grunting]

And the other thing about chloroform, it stinks.

[Grunts]

Who the hell was that?

French Algerian.

With a Maserin bolt Kn*fe.

I'd say French Foreign Legion.

You've made friends all over the world, Maria.

Foreign Legion?

Why would they wanna k*ll me?

I don't know. I don't speak French.

Finch, what's our ETA on Captain America?

(Finch) Mr. Reese should be with you directly.

[Elevator dings]

Stay close to the wall.

I'm guessing this guy might have some friends.

(Man)

[Screams]

[Screams]

[Man speaking French]

Guess that falafel didn't slow you down.

Is that it? Any more?

(Fusco)

Maria, get down!

[Maria gasps]

[Glass shatters, crashes; car alarm blares]

(Fusco) Your boy there's got issues.

[Grunts]

Hope that guy has health insurance.

(Shaw) What's up with the Evel Knievel stunt?

They didn't teach you that in Marine jump school?

Only if a 5-cent piece of lead won't get you out the door.

But thanks for coming.

You're welcome.

I'm sorry to interrupt, but who the hell are you guys?

We're a lot like you, Ms. Martinez.

We help people in less fortunate circumstances.

We only require one thing in return for our services.

What's that?

The truth.

Why are you trying to get Omar Risha into the US?

Omar was my interpreter on my last project.

We were in a convoy transporting six generators from Kuwait to Iraq when we were ambushed.

I jumped into a ditch, about to be overrun, when Omar jumped in next to me and sh*t two of the t*rrorists.

The rest fled.

He saved my life.

Sounds like he deserves a medal.

After I left Iraq, Omar started receiving death threats.

If he's sent back, he'll be k*lled.

What do French legionnaires have to do with this?

I don't know.

The day before Omar left, he wanted to talk to me about some generators that went missing in Iraq.

He didn't wanna talk about it on the phone.

The Iraqi Ministry of the Interior sent this letter to the UN stating that Omar has links to t*rror1st groups.

This is not true.

Why would someone do this?

Detective Fusco arrested the injured legionnaire.

Perhaps, when he wakes up, he can answer that question.

They could be working for a foreign intelligence service.

They could also be working for the UN High Commissioner Lapointe.

His last post was head of UN peacekeeping in the Congo.

Among the units under his control was a company of French legionnaires.

Why would Lapointe wanna k*ll me for trying to help Omar get into the US?

We need to talk to Omar.

He could shed some light on this.

It's impossible.

He's being held incommunicado.

We can't even trust his government-appointed lawyer to deliver a message.

Maybe he'll talk to his new representation.

[Buzzer]

[Gate bangs closed]

Like I told my last attorney, I'm not talking to you.

We're not with the government, Mr. Risha.

We're friends of Maria Martinez.

Or maybe you work with the people that are setting me up.

Maria told us how you saved her life in Iraq.

I'm sorry I don't have more proof, but we don't have much time.

Last night, a team of legionnaires made an attempt on Maria's life.

What?

Is she okay?

She's fine.

And she's in a safe place.

But there was something important you wanted to tell Maria during your last conversation?

About the generators.

The ones at the energy project that she worked on in Iraq?

After Maria left, the generators were never installed.

The hydroelectric plant failed.

The entire province went dark.

Hospitals had no electricity.

Patients d*ed on operating tables.

The local police lost control.

Within a week, Al-Qaeda moved back in.

What happened to the generators?

That's what I wanted to tell Maria.

Right before I left, I translated a contract for the transportation of six generators.

A contract signed by whom?

Are you sure you can protect Maria?

Yes.

Why?

Because it was her boss.

Ken Davis.

Davis?

Why would he ship generators all the way to Iraq only to turn around and ship them somewhere else?

Maybe he got a better offer.

Maria had Davis write a letter of recommendation in your behalf.

That must be where he realized that, if the two of you were ever reunited, you would tell her about his involvement with the missing generators.

[Gate clacks]

Your asylum request has been denied.

Your ride home departs in an hour.

No, this is a mistake. Please!

They'll k*ll me if I go back!

[Phone beeps]

Hey!

(Finch) I just sent you information on a new lead, Detective.

It appears that Maria's boss redirected the missing generators in Iraq to an unknown destination.

How'd he do that?

I'm not sure, but Omar knew about it.

Ken Davis arranged for him to be deported back to Iraq where he'll be k*lled.

Davis doesn't have that kind of authority.

(Finch) But he certainly has the resources to convince a corrupt UN diplomat to do his dirty work.

Yeah, well, I think I'm gonna have to pay Davis a visit.

Please hurry, Detective.

We haven't much time.

Why would Davis steal the generators?

We're looking into that now.

I have to get to Omar.

You're not going anywhere with the legionnaires still out there.

Guy engineered this place with an armored door and electromagnetic locks. You're safe here.

You don't understand.

They will k*ll Omar if he returns to Iraq.

Please.

Are you gonna cry?

What?

Hold on a sec.

You and Omar were more than just business associates, weren't you?

[Sighs]

Every time I ran into a problem-- this sheikh, that tribe, this corrupt official-- it was always Omar who solved it.

By bringing people together.

That's why I fell in love with him.

He would take me to the desert at night to drink cinnamon tea and count the stars.

Have you ever been to the desert at night?

The only thing I remember about the desert is wiping the film off the top of a warm glass of camel's milk.

That's where the bacteria breed.

Good advice.

Omar and I, we hoped to get married when he got here.

He deserves asylum.

I have to stop his deportation.

I need to get to him.

Maria, you have to trust us.

Why?

My mother was an academic back in Iran.

When the Ayatollah and his fanatics took over in '79, someone risked his life smuggling my mom out of there.

If it weren't for him--

You'd have never been born.

Those fanatics that could've k*lled my mom in Iran are the same fanatics... that will k*ll Omar if he returns to Iraq.

Just different stripes.

But we're not gonna let that happen.

How are you gonna stop it?

Davis has a UN diplomat in his pocket and false accusations from the Iraqi government.

Did you read this?

"According to a trusted source beyond reproach, Omar Risha has ties to--"

Wait.

Davis's recommendation?

"Because of his impeccable integrity and trustworthiness, Omar is a man beyond reproach."

Davis wrote both letters.

Iraqi government letterhead, but the font and the... the format are the same.

He forged it.

And the original is in Lapointe's office.

I have to get it.

Oh, you can't get in there.

No, no, I know someone.

I know a way.

Maria.

You're not going anywhere.

You have to trust us.

Yes, Maria Martinez is an employee of mine.

Something happen to her, Detective?

You're a big energy guy, right?

International businessman?

Friends in high places?

Even the UN?

If you don't mind, I have a schedule to keep.

Oh, yeah?

You have another meeting scheduled with your friend inside the UN?

The one you've been calling every day?

What is this?

Metadata?

This is a massive violation of my civil liberties.

Oh, we've already issued a warrant for your corrupt French pal Lapointe for the attempted m*rder of Maria Martinez.

As soon as he flips, we'll have the forged document you sent to the UN naming Omar Risha a t*rror1st.

This is absurd.

Where's my attorney?

See, Omar found out about the generators.

So you had him shipped back, knowing he'd be k*lled.

Then you tried to k*ll Maria too.

Last I checked, your little NYPD fiefdom doesn't extend into the United Nations.

[Chuckles]

Good luck using your tin badge to get in there, Detective.

You really think you're a big sh*t, huh?

Get a couple bureaucrats in your pocket, grease the contracts.

You don't care who dies.

Including your own employees.

Unless the DA's ready to charge my client, we're leaving.

If you're going to wade into international waters, Detective, I suggest you get a bigger boat.

Any word on Omar?

[Sighs]

[Sniffles]

I could use a drink.

So could I.

My boys keep a single malt in here somewhere.

[Whispers]

Thank God Finch buys top shelf.

[Electrical sizzling]

[Door locks clacking]

Oh, Finch!

[Sighs]

_ Damn engineers.

Mr. Reese, they're loading Omar for deportation.

We have to do something.

I'm going to pursue.

(Reese) No need, Finch. I'm on it.

Let's hit it.

Roger that.

Ms. Shaw, good news.

Mr. Reese has rescued Omar.

That's great.

Except we just lost Maria, and the legionnaires are still out there looking for her.

And what's worse, I think she's headed to Lapointe's office.

Straight into the lion's den.

Please, I have an appointment with Mr. Sevon.

He's a Greek diplomat. I don't have much time.

Sorry, lady.

No badge, no entry.

What's the problem here?

She's my guest.

Yes, sir.

We have to hurry.

Maria, when I said I'd help, I meant making a few calls--

Lapointe denied Omar's asylum based on a forged letter from the Iraqi government.

That letter is in Lapointe's office, and I need to get to it.

This is absurd.

We can't just break into the High Commissioner's office.

There are proper channels we can follow.

Davis conspired with Lapointe to have Omar k*lled.

And now they want me dead too.

What? Why would they do that?

To cover up the theft of six generators in Iraq.

Look, I will explain the rest later, but right now I need to get that letter.

I'll take you as far as Lapointe's office.

But then the rest is up to you.

Thank you.

You're not a guard.

And you're not a t*rror1st.

We know you saved Maria's life in Iraq.

We're here to return the favor.

That's why you're helping me?

Let's just say we all know what it's like to leave someone behind.

I love Maria.

From the first time I met her.

Where is she now?

She's headed to the UN to get evidence to bring down Lapointe and Davis.

But not if they get to her first.

We'll we've got to get her out of there before it's too late.

Are you really suggesting we break into the United Nations?

They have triple-layered security.

Infrared cameras with motion detection.

I have an idea.

But it's going to require a smoke screen and a big-ass truck.

I'm in position outside the UN compound.

Gonna need to step on it, Reese.

(Reese) Ready on this end.

Open wide, sister.

[Sighs]

[Glass shatters]

There's a report of smoke on the fourth floor.

Call 911.

Fire Department's already here.

We need to evacuate the building.

[Engine horn blares thrice]

Stop playing with the horn, Lionel.

Ever since I was a kid, I always wanted to drive one of these things.

(Reese)

Here, you're gonna need this.

Have you told anyone about Lapointe?

The original of the letter has to be here somewhere.

We should stop while we're ahead.

I am not leaving until I clear Omar's name.

Find anything on Davis, Finch?

Seems he's deleted all his email correspondence.

[Cell phone rings]

Ms. Groves, I'm a bit occupied at the moment.

Try "Habur Gate," Harold.

[Typing]

"Habur Gate"?

What does that mean?

I don't know.

But you're welcome.

Oh, and, by the way...

[Dog panting]

I'm borrowing your dog.

(Finch) [To self] Customs clearance.

Six generators.

Requested by...

Oh, no.

[Tense, militaristic music]

♪

[g*n cocks]

Where's the fire, mes amis?

Here.

I found it.

Good.

We should go.

He could be here any minute.

What the hell?

I should have known it was you when I received a call from the guards.

And what are you doing here?

Excusez-moi, Monsieur Lapointe.

[Speaking French] _

I didn't know you spoke French.

That's the first thing they teach you in the Foreign Legion.

[Screams]

[Body thuds]

Consider this payback for what you did to my friend.

What's so funny?

Second round is always more accurate than the first.

What second round?

You're not even holding a g*n.

I wasn't talking about me.

[Glass shatters, grenade bonks head]

[expl*si*n]

[Both grunting]

[Whistles casually]

Excusez-moi!

[Groans]

So much for payback.

Come on, come on.

(Sevon)

It's a shame, really.

After all I did to help you.

You're working with Davis? Why?

You don't understand how the real world works.

I learned a long time ago, as a legionnaire based in Rwanda.

They used us to protect those who committed genocide.

Realpolitiks.

This is about greed, not politics.

You have no loyalty.

Look at where your loyalty has landed you.

You know the worst thing about dying on a UN property?

Extraterritorial privileges.

Makes it very difficult for the NYPD to investigate.

Somebody call 911?

Drop the g*n.

Or what, Detective?

Or I'm gonna get Realpolitik-y on your ass.

[g*n hits floor]

You and Davis stole the generators from Iraq.

You have no proof.

"Habur Gate" ring a bell?

Habur Gate. That's the border crossing between Iraq and Turkey.

Next time have someone else sign the customs form.

Go figure.

Turns out immunity doesn't stop you from bleeding.

[Grunts]

[Sirens wailing]

That's what I call diplomacy.

Maria.

Oh, my God, I can't believe you're here!

[Sirens wailing]

Gonna need to step it up, boys.

Sounds like the cavalry's on its way.

Come on. Let's go.

(Fusco) - We gotta go!

How'd you find this place?

Someone recommended the view.

Hmm.

Hmm.

[Clears throat]

The office of the High Commissioner just sent this over.

Congratulations.

Your asylum's officially been approved.

[Sighs]

And Sevon?

Greece revoked his diplomatic immunity.

NYPD arrested him for the m*rder of Lapointe.

Thank you, Detective, and your friends.

For everything.

Welcome to New York.

Hey, what's up?

Thought the case was closed.

You did good tonight, Lionel.

Glass of champagne, best you got.

I thought you didn't drink.

March 20th.

Persian New Year.

I thought you didn't care about foreign cultures.

That's what's great about New York.

You don't have to travel to learn about other cultures.

They all come here.

My father brought my mother here on their first date.

No kidding.

Nice place.

It's changed names a couple times, but the view's still the same.

Get outta here, Fusco.

Happy new year, Sameen.

It may not be the desert stars, but there's nothing like the New York City skyline.

(Reese) And Davis?

According to Detective Fusco, he's flown the coop.

And with his international connections... he could be anywhere.

Maybe one of our allies will scoop him up.

Speaking of allies...

I do hope that Root isn't feeding Bear any chocolate.

Sit. Sit.

I've secured the generators you were looking for.

They shipped from Akcaabat Port last week.

What are you trying to power? New York City?

Sorry to hear about your friend Sevon.

But just as well.

He worked for an antiquated institution.

Hard to believe that Nation States still think they have any influence, even in cooperation.

Sevon got sloppy.

I can't afford such liabilities.

Then lucky for me I'm careful.

Indeed.

[Grunts]

Walk.

Go blind.

[Distorted footsteps and feedback through PA]

Which way, Bear?

[Dog whines]

Attaboy.

Hello, Ms. Groves.

Sit, boy.

I commend your tracking abilities.

Sense of smell is often the most neglected of the five senses.

And one which machines can't replicate.

At least... not yet.

[Chuckles]

When I was a boy, we had a foxhound called--

Churchill.

Shall we cut to the chase?

You have some things that don't belong to you-- two hard drives, a superconducting chip, and six generators.

Which means, either your planning to bring Samaritan online... or you're the world's most ambitious gamer.

Why waste time arguing about small battles, when we could be discussing the larger w*r?

Perhaps you and I have more in common than you think.

I don't think so.

I want the machine to be free.

You wanna control it.

I won't bore you with academic theories about competing civilizations.

It's human nature to want to control the means to wealth, hmm?

Whether it be salt or gold or oil.

Or information.

It is the new currency.

And if someone's gonna control it, it might as well be you?

Imagine... what it would be like to merge, permanently.

I could use someone with such capabilities.

And why would I do that?

Because I know what you know to be true, Ms. Groves, hmm?

Everyone thinks you're crazy.

But I don't.

Because we understand what's coming.

What's about to happen.

Don't we?

And what makes you think you're in any position to negotiate?

[Dog barks]

[g*n cocks]

[Sighs]

Touche.

I never feel civilized... negotiating from the end of a barrel.

Either end.

Shall we call this one a draw?

Very well.

Perhaps next time we meet you'll reconsider my offer.