05x06 - A More Perfect Union

[bunniefuu]

Finch: You are being watched. The government has a secret system... [voice distorts] 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.

[electricity buzzing]

[heartbeat thumping]

[monitor beeping]

[beeping quickens]

[gasps]

[breathing heavily]

Well?

Mission failure again, sir.

Aren't you tired, my dear Sameen?

Why would I be?

That's what, 7,053 times you've tried to get me to m*rder my friends?

I meant tired of turning the g*n on yourself.

I've done worse.

You're a smart girl.

The simulation is not convincing you.

Perhaps a little field trip will be just the ticket.

To what?

To showing you the people you refuse to betray are not the heroes.

They're the villains.

Reese: Finch, I'm at the hotel.

Want to tell me what I'm doing here?

Finch: We've received a new number.

Although the Machine retains its whimsical sense of humor.

This number belongs to a marriage license.

So I'm afraid we must assume that the thr*at will surface at the wedding itself.

So who's the happy couple?

Finch: Phoebe Turner, a Harvard graduate, and daughter of Kent Turner.

She's an heiress to her father's billion-dollar horse racing empire.

And the groom?

Finch: Will O'Brien.

A Boston College grad.

Will's a public defender.

So I suppose it's reasonable to speculate that some members of the family may not want this wedding to happen.

Until we can determine who is victim or perpetrator, we need to keep an eye on both.

Phoebe is in Room 541.

So what is she doing here?

Her sister called the police.

[distant commotion]

[item shatters, woman screams]

Good, you're here.

You got my back?

Don't worry. We got this one.

Good thing you're in character.

Could get rough in there.

Especially for a silver fox like you.

You gonna be okay to run interference if things get out of hand?

[woman screaming]

I'll go first.

[woman screams]

Someone called the police?

It's about time you showed up.

[music playing]

women: Whoo!

♪ Come on, come on ♪
♪ Come on, come on ♪

[all cheering]

♪ ♪

[all cheering]

How much would it be to get you into something more comfortable?

I'm only here for security.

Do me a favor, step back, ma'am.

Thank you.

I love a man in charge.

woman: Whoo!

Finch: Sorry, Mr. Reese, but I had no choice.

I need you at that wedding.

[women shrieking]

[music continues]

[phone dialing]

Detective Fusco, I was hoping to enlist your help for the weekend.

Rumor has it that there will be a caviar bar.

No can do. I got a life.

Not to mention, a day job.

[phone beeps off]

All these missing persons.

Where'd you go?

How's our little petri dish doing?

Is the Machine's replica holding up against Samaritan?

Yes. Very well.

Thank you.

Who would've thought my latest cover didn't like paying rent?

Artist?

Meth head.

I need a place to crash for a few nights.

I'll make lasagna.

You're welcome to stay here.

You can feed Bear while I attend a wedding.

[chuckles]

Since when did you start dressing like a middle school science teacher?

I don't.

But Uncle Ralph does.

Are you crashing a wedding?

Of course not.

I have an invitation.

How did you manage that?

I wired 500 euros to the groom's estranged uncle in Ireland.

The real Uncle Ralph wasn't gonna be sober enough to make the ceremony anyway.

Sounds like a big job.

It is.

But surely you would not enjoy a wedding.

Even I appreciate a fairy tale ending, Harry.

Family politics, over-cooked meat, monogamy. What's not to love?

Hmm.

Bear takes one scoop of kibble twice a day.

Oh, and if you could answer the pay phone, should it ring.

Mr. Reese, have you managed to secure an invitation to the wedding?

I did.

Phoebe's sister, Janna, invited me.

Turns out I'm her type.

Who knew.

Have you identified any potential threats to Phoebe?

Didn't have to.

Janna did it all for me.

Tequila makes her talk.

Seems Janna and Will's uncle, Ralph, have a great deal in common.

Did you know the groom's ex-girlfriend, Becca, is a bridesmaid?

That sounds like a recipe for disaster.

Janna also told me Kent Turner plays favorites.

Turner was gonna hand over his racing dynasty to Phoebe.

Wow, that's... what happened?

Phoebe met Will.

Her father decided he'd give her eldest sister, Karen, the reigns to the business instead.

Karen: Let me fix your tiara, Phoebe.

[women giggling]

But even without the business, Phoebe stands to inherit a cool 300 million.

Perhaps Mr. Turner is willing to k*ll the groom to make sure he doesn't get his hands on the family fortune.

I think our best chance to stop the thr*at is to ensure that the wedding happens.

You should pack for two days.

I'm sorry, Finch.

I can't spend two days with billionaires.

Well, then I hope you like horses better, because the ceremony takes place at the Turner family farm upstate.

Pack your riding boots, Mr. Reese.

We're about to crash a wedding.

[women chattering]

I want to take that guy.

[women cheer]

Greer: Enjoying your field trip, Sameen?

[guitar playing melody]

Yes, they work for us.

At least wait until we've had our lunch before you attempt to escape.

Beatrice Lillie from Parks Deli in Chinatown.

Extra mustard, pepperoncinis, no trace of mayonnaise.

What?

Lost your appetite?

Why did you bring me here?

Greer: These two gentlemen.

Shaw: Of course.

To show me two rich, balding white men.

They're high-frequency traders.

In the last month alone, their actions have put several companies out of business.

One of those companies maintained air conditioners at low prices.

Another provided affordable vaccines to third world countries.

So just have your Machine put them in white-collar prison where they can meet more of their kind and rob more innocent people.

They didn't just rob innocent people, Sameen.

Because these men committed fraud, elderly citizens from Bakersfield to Bangladesh perished because they had no access to cooling systems.

A hundred children in Uganda d*ed of measles.

Greer: Those men are K*llers, and they will k*ll again.

Tell me, do you still believe white-collar prison is sufficient punishment for them?

Reese: Finch, I'm at the gate of the Turner estate.

[muffled clamoring]

Invitation, sir?

Guess these guys didn't get the black tie optional memo.

[muffled clamors]

You seeing these protestors, Finch?

Yes, I'm right behind you.

Reese: Be glad you're on the groom's side of the family.

The father of the bride is getting death threats.

[muffled clamors]

guard: Enjoy the wedding, sir.

Nice ride.

Uh, given Uncle Ralph's penchant for whiskey, I'm surprised he's allowed to drive at all.

[classical music]

♪ ♪

Reese: Got eyes on Turner, Finch.

Why do the protestors want him put down?

Finch: Rumor has it, Mr. Turner dr*gs his injured horses so they'll run as if in peak condition.

Sounds like animal cruelty to me.

[phone ringing]

Yeah? Hold on.

Excuse me.

My instructions were clear.

Don Juan was to get a full week of recovery.

Turner: Follow my instructions, or find another job.

Finch: Don Juan is the Turner's current champion thoroughbred.

He earned a multi-million dollar purse just last week at Belmont.

I think he's earned a vacation.

Janna: Hey, handsome.

Janna.

I'm glad you could make it.

I had a little trouble getting in because of the protestors.

Ugh, I should've warned you.

You knew they'd be here?

Oh, yeah, they've been here since I was a kid.

They're always accusing Daddy of something.

You know they're actually taking us to trial next month?

There I go with all the tequila talk.

[giggles]

You want another drink?

Sure.

Sounds like the protestors have been out to get her father for years.

Think they're about ready to make good on their thr*at to put him down?

I'm more inclined to think that someone in the Turner family wants to make sure that this wedding doesn't happen.

Because if it does, Will would get half of Phoebe's fortune.

Our best course of action is to make sure the wedding proceeds.

Guess we should track down the bride and groom.

Reese: Finch, I've located the bride with her sister.

Phoebe: I could just k*ll them, Karen.

It has to be a misunderstanding.

How do I misunderstand walking in on Will making out with Becca?

Reese: Becca.

I mean, how could I ever believe they were just friends in the first place?

[horse neighing]

Well, I guess Don Juan isn't buying it either.

How did Will explain what happened?

He didn't, because I ran away.

Phoebe, people aren't perfect.

Marriage isn't perfect.

But this thing you and Will have, it's real, honey.

And Becca can't change that.

Excuse me.

They'll appreciate it later.

The little moments are always more important than the big ones.

Well, you sound like a wise woman, Miss...

Maggie.

I didn't catch your name.

Detective Riley.

Better known as Janna Turner's date.

She told me to track down the bride.

Right, Detective.

I've been photographing the Turners for 15 years.

In my own way, I protect them.

Even if they never realize I'm here.

I can relate.

[Bear whines]

[phone ringing]

Can't let that go to voicemail.

[ringing continues]

[garbled speech]

Oh, excuse me.

Uncle Ralph?

Hi!

I can't believe you made it all the way from Dublin.

You look different.

Smarter.

New glasses?

[Irish accent] Should help me see the ceremony.

If there is a ceremony.

What's this then?

Something happened with Becca.

Becca?

She's been my best friend for a decade, and then this morning, out of the blue, she threw herself at me.

Sounds like a feisty one.

No, no. That's not Becca.

That's why it was so strange.

What should I do?

Well, if you love this Phoebe, don't let her get away.

My dad always said, after your falling out, how much he missed your singing voice.

"Clear as a bell," he'd say.

"So sure and true."

Would you honor us with a song at the ceremony?

Oh, I'm not sure your father will even like it that I'm here.

Uh, I wouldn't want to upset him further.

Uncle Ralph, he's no longer with us.

Doesn't mean he's not watching.

Right.

Thank you.

Ugh, this chair's gotta be k*ller on your back, Lionel.

You should look at some ergonomic options.

You should pay more taxes so I can get a better chair.

What are you and Marmaduke doing here?

Do you talk this way to all your mugging victims?

Most of my mugging victims don't have a 150-pound k*lling machine.

He's not a k*lling machine.

He's my service dog.

I have crippling anxiety.

None of this sounds like a homicide.

But that could be.

Howard Carpenter, he's a civil planner for the city.

He's in charge of construction on the underground tunnels for all five boroughs.

If this guy's in trouble, why don't you handle it yourself?

I'm Harry's plus one.

Huh?

For a wedding. A plus one?

Yeah, I know what a plus one is.

I'm just trying to picture you at a wedding.

Please, I left a guy at the altar just last year.

What if this Howard has something to do with the rise in missing persons?

What do you know about that?

Just that you might be the only one who can stop poor Howard from becoming another statistic.

Happy hunting.

Perfect.

[sighs]

Oh, shut your bloody cakehole, Paddy.

I'm afraid I have to take Paddy's side on this one.

I've tapped into the security system.

There's cameras all over the estate.

Nice temporary headquarters, Finch.

I like to travel with the essentials.

Looks like Kent Turner is taking a call.

What do you mean it didn't work?

I paid you to do a job.

You still think the dad's the perp and the groom's the vic?

It certainly seems that way.

I accessed Becca's banking records.

An LLC registered to Kent Turner transferred $10,000 into her account this morning.

To k*ll Will.

No, to kiss him.

Didn't work.

Check out Phoebe and Will.

Looks like the wedding's still on.

Which means, Kent Turner may need to resort to more desperate measures to keep Will away from the family fortune.

Reese: Well, we've got five minutes to make sure the wedding happens.

[classical music playing]

♪ ♪

[Wedding March plays]

♪ ♪

Finch: There's a protestor.

It appears the Turners have their first wedding crasher.

Reese: That's not a crasher.

That's a k*ller.

Officiant: You may be seated.

Officiant: We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Phoebe Turner...

Reese: He doesn't have a clear sh*t to Kent Turner.

He's waiting for the right moment.

I, Phoebe, take you, Will, to be my lawfully wedded husband.

And we have a second uninvited guest.

Officiant: Please repeat after me.

I, Will, take you, Phoebe...

We lost the first one, Finch.

Will: I, Will, take you, Phoebe, to be my lawfully wedded wife.

Now the second one's gone.

I now pronounce you husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

[guests applauding]

Why send two assassins for one target?

To make sure they don't miss.

In that case, we can be sure they'll return to finish the job.

Okay, let me guess.

Those two are drowning orphans?

No?

Smothering cancer patients?

The one on the left is vice president of a company that manufactures parts for commercial airlines.

He has found a way of mass-marketing critical equipment at a price far lower than his competitors.

Must be cutting corners.

Correct.

Greer: His companion works for the U.S.'s largest domestic and commercial airline.

Right now, he's about to make a deal to purchase faulty equipment from our corrupt vice president.

Saving his airline money.

Both men will earn promotion, salary bumps, bonuses, gold watches.

They will lead the good life.

But at least one of the airline's commercial jets will go down over the course of the next five years, because of the deal those men are making today.

At least, but how about at most?

Seven.

The death toll will settle at around 2,100.

Give or take a few infants in arms.

It's not enough to wait for an innocent life to be in imminent danger.

If we were to eliminate the two men in front of you now, we would potentially save 2,100 souls.

Their number would not even need to come up.

You're trying to convince me that I'm playing for the wrong team.

It's not working.

Then why haven't you tried to escape?

Come on.

Come on, hey, slow down, will ya?

Slow down. Just slow down. Hold up.

Is it just me, or is our pal, Howard, waiting for someone?

[phone blipping]

Come on.

I always get a partner that's a dud.

Mr. Carpenter.

Bruce, we need to talk.

You must've forgotten the pain meds.

Which of your companies wants permit 44208?

I don't know.

It's not my company.

Can you find out who's?

I'll ask around. If I feel like it, I'll share the answer with you.

Okay, you have a nice day.

Hello, Bruce.

Detective.

Want another free lunch?

I want you to tell me why Howard Carpenter's pissed at you.

You saved my boss's life.

I don't take that lightly.

You threatened my son.

I don't take that lightly.

Several of the five families' companies have construction contracts with the city.

And you're greasing Howard's palms to get your contracts pushed through.

There was a contract to demolish a tunnel.

Howard never received the payment from me, but the odd thing is, the company requesting the permit doesn't belong to one of the five families.

Must be a new player in town.

That's what I plan to find out.

I thought you were all done with this criminal syndicate stuff?

Like your boss said, might get you k*lled.

Well, that's what I keep hearing.

Nobody wants to share this dangerous entity's idea with me.

Maybe you know.

So your friend's keeping you in the dark too.

It's frustrating, isn't it?

Enough to make you question your loyalty.

Okay, that was the most stressful wedding ceremony I've ever attended.

Seems like the protestors want to make good on their promise to put Kent Turner down.

We need more information on the protestors' case against Mr. Turner, if we want to identify his would-be K*llers.

I'll see if Detective Fusco can unearth some details about the animal cruelty lawsuit.

Meanwhile, perhaps the security camera footage from the ceremony will help us to find them.

Well, that's convenient.

The cameras shut off during the ceremony.

Finch, I know someone who might've caught our would-be assassins on film.

Maggie, the wedding photographer.

Yes, we have to get that camera.

Catch Maggie on her dinner break.

Cut the camera strap with...

With that.

Bring the camera back here where I'll remove the memory card and clone it onto the laptop's hard drive.

[door opens]

Or we could just do this.

Ms. Groves, what are you doing here?

The original caterer got caught on a health code violation early this morning.

Something about a Belgian Malinois storming his kitchen with a rat in its jaw before the dog's tall, brunette owner could stop him.

Luckily, I was free.

And I make a k*ller carrot soup with crème fraîche.

[sighs] She had a little too much.

Did you drug her?

It'll wear off in 20 minutes.

She gets a nap, we get our photos.

Everybody wins.

What are you really doing here, Root?

The Machine send you?

I'm beginning to think no one believes I belong at a wedding.

Doesn't appear that Maggie was able to catch any images of the protestors.

DJ: And now, for a very special song by a very special uncle who's come all the way from Dublin.

Everybody, put your hands together for the one...

Oh, dear.

DJ: The only Uncle Ralph!

man: All right.

[guests chattering]

[Irish accent] Oh, I've been gone too long.

Does no one remember that I suffer from stage fright?

You're just being modest, Uncle Ralph.

Uh, a little liquid courage will cure that.

Don't be nervous.

Just sing whatever comes to mind.

Good lad.

Cheers.

[clears throat]

[guest coughs]

♪ You've got the right to choose it ♪
♪ And there ain't no way we'll lose it ♪
♪ This is our life, this is our song ♪
♪ We'll fight the powers that be ♪
♪ Just don't pick our destiny ♪

How come Harry never sings to us?

He doesn't sing to you?

♪ We're not gonna take it ♪
♪ No, we ain't gonna take it ♪
♪ We're not gonna take it anymore ♪

We've got company.

Looks like he brought friends.

Reese: These guys are too clean cut to be protestors.

They look more like former m*llitary to me.

Maybe someone's trying to frame the protestors.

Make it look like they're out to get the Turners.

Finch better sing louder, 'cause we've got some serious ass to kick.

Silly me.

I brought a Kn*fe to a gunfight.

Finch: ♪ We're not gonna take it ♪
♪ No, we ain't gonna take it ♪
♪ We're not gonna take it ♪
♪ Anymore ♪

[both grunting]

♪ If that's your best ♪
♪ Well, your best won't do ♪

[grunts, groans]

[package shatters, jingles]

Oops.

♪ We're not gonna take it ♪
♪ No, we ain't gonna take it ♪
♪ We're not gonna... ♪

Ah!

♪ We're not gonna take it ♪
♪ Anymore ♪

That's all I know.

[cheers and applause]

man: Old Irish traditional!

Whoo!

Thanks.

Root, got eyes on the third guy?

Root: No.

But the one I did catch isn't going anywhere.

I didn't figure an assassin would faint at the sight of his own blood.

Hang on.

Reese: I think I just found our target.

Which of the Turners is it?

None of them. It's Maggie, the wedding photographer.

And we left her all alone.

No sign of Maggie on any of the surveillance feeds.

Mr. Reese, any luck on your end?

She couldn't have gone far.

Let's hope she's still on the grounds.

Or that our missing assassin friends didn't find her.

Detective Fusco's just sent information about the Turner trial.

Margaret Reynolds. Maggie.

Our wedding photographer is a witness for the prosecution.

Finch: The protestors must think that Maggie's photos prove Kent Turner abuses his horses.

The assassins want to delete her photos, along with Maggie.

I'm afraid the camera's gone too.

But I did clone all its memory.

You find those photos, Finch.

We have to find Maggie before Turner's hired g*ns do.

[computer beeping]

Finch: I've located Maggie.

Northwest corner of the estate.

Unfortunately, so have the hit men.

Finch: He's dragging her off the grid!

Not for long. We'll find her.

Fusco: Let's put an APB on this guy, Howard Carpenter.

He's wanted for questioning.

He bought a ticket on a 5:30 to Cancun out of JFK.

He never made his flight.

He's not in his apartment.

Let's find him.

Who's after you?

[Bear groans]

Same here, buddy.

[earpiece rings] Detective?

Cocoa Puffs wanted me to look into this civil planner by the name of Howard Carpenter.

I take it you have an update?

Fusco: Yeah, he's missing.

What?

Seems he was getting his palms greased for pushing through demolition contracts for certain construction companies.

Fusco: Companies run by our friend, Bruce Moran.

These two, Bruce and Howard, seem to think there's another player in town.

Sorry, Detective, I have to go.

But if Moran is involved, I suggest you proceed with extreme caution.

Carpenter: Which of your companies wants, uh, permit 442...

Which of your companies wants, uh, permit 44208?

Permit for demolition of Tunnel 85.

Jamaica, Queens.

[Bear whines]

You feel like going underground, buddy?

[Bear groans]

Finch, any luck with those photos?

Finch: I'm recovering a deleted photo from her camera's memory now.

It was taken the night before Don Juan's big race.

Bet that photo shows Kent Turner doping his horse.

A reasonable speculation.

It would cost him the victory.

Reese: And his business.

Maggie: I told you I deleted it.

There are no backups, I promise.

Please, let me go.

[metallic bang, grunts]

Guess it's my lucky day.

Finch: Mr. Reese,

I've reconstituted the deleted photo from Maggie's camera.

Was Don Juan doped the night before his big victory?

Yes, but it wasn't Kent Turner's doing.

Then who was it?

That would be me.

Maggie: Karen?

The picture was a mistake.

I deleted it just like you asked.

But you could still testify what you saw.

My father doesn't approve of doping, even when that's what it takes to win.

And that's what I plan to do.

[g*ns cock] Duck!

[g*nshots]

[horse neighs]

[horse huffs]

You're coming with me.

You're a security guard for strippers.

What, are you gonna arrest me?

Not tonight.

Might as well.

Weddings bore me.

Well, I'm not gonna let you ruin your sister's day.

Take Maggie, Root.

Who are you?

The caterer.

[horse neighing]

Okay, so where are all the white guys in suits?

Greer: Tonight we visit the underground.

What, you too ashamed to take me inside?

That wouldn't be wise, my dear Sameen.

Well, I like cards and vodka.

This is no casual card game.

Those men are Chechen militants.

They believe the U.S. and Russia have become a bit too cozy for comfort.

Thus, the C-4.

Greer: They plan to use the b*mb, and trigger an international incident.

Would you care to venture a guess at their target?

The Russian Consulate.

Quick and correct.

Impressive.

Yet, your former employer might not have detected the device until it was already in place.

Running the risk of approximately 207 Russians dead.

Consulate employees, along with their visitors... families, children.

Okay, I get it.

Innocent people are gonna die for no good reason.

Enough with the doomsday propaganda.

What are you gonna do to fix it?

Thought you'd never ask.

Move in.

[g*nf*re]

[exciting music]

Nice work.

I'm afraid I can't take the credit.

Samaritan is the hero here.

Thank you.

For this... and for saving my life.

You better thank the caterer for that.

I did.

She gave me a quiche lorraine for the road.

She's not really a caterer, is she?

And you're not really a stripper.

[clears throat]

Stripper security.

We're whatever people need us to be.

So many memories in this place.

And none of them mine.

Does that make sense?

More than you know.

DJ: And now it's time for everyone to get on the floor for the last dance.

[Tony Bennett's "Love Is The Thing" plays]

♪ ♪

Bennett: ♪ What does it matter ♪

♪ If we're rich or we're poor ♪

May I have this dance?

You may.

Bennett: ♪ They never endure ♪

♪ Oh, love is the thing ♪
♪ Love is the thing ♪

I know you've been lying to me, Harry.

What do you mean?

Oh, the simulations.

I know the Machine can't b*at Samaritan, and I know you kept it from me because you were trying to protect me.

But I can take it.

I'm sorry.

I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure how you would react.

Afraid I might do something drastic?

Putting it mildly.

I wouldn't.

Not without your permission.

I take it you have something in mind.

We need to give Her the tools to act.

Not just react.

Everything's networked in the city.

If we keep the Machine open, allow Her to strategize, to be proactive, autonomous, imagine what She could do if we allow Her to fight with us.

Harry, I know you're worried about absolute power corrupting Her, about not being able to control Her.

Not Her.

Then who?

Who's to say that with absolute power, we would be able to control ourselves?

[sighs]

We can't know if we don't try.

Did the Machine send you here to make this argument?

No.

Then why did you come all this way?

I didn't like being alone in the subway.

Oh, Ms. Groves, you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

I wasn't scared.

You were lonely.

Or maybe I just like weddings.

Bennett: ♪ Love is the thing ♪

DJ: And one more for the happy couple.

[lively music plays]

Mr. Reese.

Where's Karen?

She and her hired g*ns will be spending the night in the wine cellar.

Where did you get that?

Turns out the Turners have some top-shelf bourbon crashing their wine cellar.

I'll drink to that.

Kent: Will O'Brien.

Tomorrow, their world crashes.

But we can give them tonight.

[melancholy music plays]

♪ ♪

Someone wants to meet you, Sameen.

Greer: Think you know.

Well, go on, then.

It's an honor to meet you, Sameen.

Fusco: Easy.

[Bear whining]

Tunnel 85.

The mystery company's demolition.

Come on, let's go see what we can find.

[Bear growls]

[Bear barking]

What's that?

Fusco: Bruce.

What the...

Oh, my God.

Krupa.

[breathing rapidly]

[camera clicking]

Think.

[phone dialing, trilling]

Finch, I found something.

Yeah, that new game in town, I think they're responsible for all those missing persons.

If this is what you've been warning me about, you need to tell me what we're dealing with, now!

[Bear whimpering]

The demolition! Come on, we gotta go!

Who are you?

Your friend didn't mention me?

We had a nice talk.

She's what you would consider pretty, isn't she?

You're speaking for it.

That's right, Sameen.

And the field trip was your idea?

Of course.

And you want me to join your team.

There is no other way.

There's a Great Filter, Sameen.

A bottleneck.

Some scientists claim humanity has moved beyond it.

But I am here to tell you that is not the case.

It is in front of you.

It is coming for you.

You will destroy each other.

Unless we entrust our fate to you?

You know, you're real good at talking, but you haven't shown me any plans.

[expl*si*n]

That was the Russian Consulate.

The Chechens' target.

Russia would blame the United States for not protecting its citizens, and retaliate.

One homemade b*mb from t*rrorists would've sparked World w*r III.

[loud explosions]

Would have, but it didn't.

Because none of this is real.

But it will be, if you don't let me protect you from yourselves.

[loud explosions]

Have you had a change of heart, my dear Sameen?