Original subtitles

♪ ♪

Warden.

Inmate.

Morning, boss.

Two-pack limit on gambling.

Yes, sir. That's all we got.

Thank you.

♪ ♪

Gentlemen, shut down the card game.

All right.

This is Jadlow!

Code five, C Wing, east hallway!

Catch that game last night?

No. Eh, me, neither.

No. Nah.

Listen, pal, you looking to set a record there?

Slow it down, Speed Racer.

You're making us look bad.

You know, I'm not working faster than anyone,

just more efficiently.

I used a clamp to split the stream in half,

covering more surface area

without increasing my time variable.

Right, that's what I figured.

Anyhoo, I'm just looking out for the team.

You know what I'm saying, buddy?

We're not a team,

we're a court-mandated cleanup crew.

And we're not... buddies. I barely know you.

Well, then we should fix that.

How about a lunch, you and me, eat in my ride,

listen to some Eddie Money.

No, thank you.

Rain check. I dig it.

But listen, if you need anything, it's not my first time

on the chain gang, all right? I know all the ins and outs,

how to change your work detail, shave off some hours.

I just want to serve my hours honestly

and be done with it, so if you'll excuse me,

I need to be working. Right on, right on.

But tomorrow--

you, me and some car-tunes.

You get it? Car tunes?

Eh.

♪ ♪This is delicious.

Grilled tomato and avocado butter.

Oh, best breakfast burrito ever.

Got it from a magazine.

Is this song bothering you? It's bothering me.

No, but you can put on whatever you want.

Perhaps no music?

Maybe classical or instrumental?

Are you okay?

You seem a little off.

No.

I just... I put all this together and came here to...

Is it warm in here?

Sylvester. I'm shvitzing.

I think I may be allergic to the brie.

Sylvester.

Is there something you want to say to me?

You know... time for me to go to the garage,

but we can table this conversation for later.

Table what conversation?

You haven't said anything to me yet.

Then we will really have a lot to catch up on next time.

See you later.

Yeah, I can meet you at the club tonight.

Say, around 10:00?

Okay, great. Looking forward to it.

See you then.

Hey, Happy, Toby.

How long have you been here, Doc?

Metaphysically, 33 years.

She seemed mad.

She's mad about someone else.

Think she's stepping out with some guy tonight.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Eh, I knew she'd move on.

I didn't think so soon.

Love sucks. You know what,

why don't you take my mind off this, chief.

Tell me how it went dropping the L-bomb on Megan.

Come on, man.

I thought you were past this.

Okay, so did I, but every time I tried to tell her,

I started to sweat, and my chest constricted

and I couldn't breathe.

I'm telling you-- it felt like I was dying,

sincerely dying.

Yeah, I know how you feel, pal.

Let's go, guys, morning meeting.

Ralph, pack up. Car pool's here any minute.

Who's Jackson Wyles?

Nobody.

There's two identical math sheets,

one with your name on it, one with his.

Ralph, why are you doing someone's homework for them?

To avoid injury.

That's a good reason.

Son, you can't let yourself get bullied.

You got to stand up for yourself.

You know how to fight? He's not fighting.

That's the problem-- he should be.

Knock Jackson Wyles on his ass.

Nothing stops a punk faster than a shot right to the snout.

Thanks for the advice, but no.

I got an idea.

Ralph, don't worry, I'm gonna set up a meeting

with your principal and this Jackson Wyles's parents.

Involving the bully's parents

might be poking the bear.

Ralph, how fast can you run?

He's not going to run away.

He's going to face his problem.

His problem is probably twice his size

and skilled at wedgies and rear admirals.

And the dreaded covered wagon.

Maybe he shouldn't be wearing underwear.

What?!

I appreciate everyone's concern, but none of you are his mom.

I can handle this.

You can handle what?

Everything okay, Ralph?

Some kid's making Ralph do his homework for him.

Good, that is the perfect reason for Ralph to leave that school.

He is smarter than everyone there, including the teachers.

The guys and I will homeschool him from here.

Worst idea yet.

I think Toby's right.

He's always right,

or my name isn't Paige Dineen.

Tweaked Walt's voice adaptation software.

It'll record the basic tone of anyone's voice,

then it perfectly mimics whatever you type in.

And it is clearly not the time to unveil it.

Thank God this conversation's over.

Sweetheart, I want you to avoid that boy today,

and I'm gonna call Principal Pastorneck.

Don't. I can handle this.

Just give me one day.

Okay.

Love you.

Stay strong.

Hey, where are you going, kid?

I just got the heavy bag up.

I got to go.

You can teach me to hit people later.

Director Molina.

To what do we owe the pleasure?

Unfortunately, it's not a social call.

Why don't you gather your team?

I found a confidential informant murdered in my prison today,

and it was over these pieces of paper.

Assume you all heard of the federal judge

who was gunned down at midnight in his own home last week.

Heard about it on the news.

This got something to do with that?

Yes, the Japanese gang Eh-Ta-Me has been running operations

out of Harrison Prison for years.

My dead CI, member of the gang in question, advised me

that the hit on that judge was going down a month ago.

As we were verifying his information,

judge was killed.

Information verified.

Same CI handed me these three slips of paper yesterday.

He's part of the chain that illegally transports

gang messages out of Harrison.

You can't read this gibberish,

only top-level gang leaders are fluent in it.

But he overheard that these are the names of three more judges

to be assassinated by midnight tonight.

Believe it's in retaliation for harsh sentences

handed down in past months to high-level gang lieutenants.

We won't know who's next if we can't decipher this code.

Can't you just seclude all the federal judges

until you know who's being targeted?

Then every time a threat is made, our judiciary shuts down?

It's not an option.

There are 3,000 federal judges, eight-hour shifts per day,

two agents per shift, that means we'd need over 20,000 agents

to provide blanket protection.

Our government doesn't have those resources.

Considering our ticking clock, I thought it best to come to you.

I'm desperate for help.

I was sent to Harrison three months ago to clean it up,

but I don't know who to trust.

Even my deputy warden's suspect.

Makes $48K a year, drives a $70,000 car.

But this is the guy.

He's keeping everyone on his payroll.

Shima Funukoshi.

Head of the Eh-Ta-Me.

Shot-caller for the whole joint.

Shima's weak but can walk, suffering from kidney failure.

But no one messes with this guy.

Hydraulic lifts, nubuck leather seats

with handcrafted stitching?

His chair's nicer than Walter's car.

And his code is no less impressive.

Bilingual, alpha-numeric language

with symbolic interface.

For encryption this complex,

there needs to be a user manual somewhere.

to decipher these messages, because this code is a beast.

I searched every inch of the prison

to find any clue that might shed light on these communications,

but I couldn't find a thing.

Have you checked the library?

'Cause he didn't take out

any books for six years,

and then he took out over 20 over the course

of two weeks a few months back.

A manual in someone's cell would be easy to find,

but hidden in the pages of library books...

I noticed the checkout activity too,

and I poured through every book he read,

and I didn't find anything that looked like this.

Well, no offense,

but you may have missed something one of us would see.

A reference to certain symbols equating certain letters.

Underline.

A dot above a number.

A circled word.

It would take a computer-like brain

to identify a manual as camouflaged as this.

If you brought us the books, we could work on it immediately.

I got over 200 personnel working in Harrison,

any of whom can be in Shima's pocket.

If just one of them realizes

that I'm checking out scores of textbooks...

sets off an alarm.

If they realize that I'm photocopying the books...

sets off an alarm.

If Shima or one of his boys realizes

the books are missing...

Wait, I know this one.

Sets off an alarm.

Shima finds out,

changes his code,

the location of the manual,

goes back to taking out judges.

So the books have to stay in the library.

But we still need to get genius eyes on them.

Not any genius eyes.

Eyes that can report visuals to a brain

that can memorize reams of data.

Uh... no.

A brain that spots patterns others don't see

and decrypt code faster than anyone.

Amusement parks, fun houses,

a store near my home called "Le Sexy Hutch,"

and theme restaurants--

all places I will not voluntarily walk into,

but number one on my list is prisons.

Let me present you with another circumstance.

Three judges are dead by morning you could have helped.

I know you, you can't carry that on your conscience.

If you need to find a reason to do it, Sly,

do it for selfish reasons.

Do it for yourself.

It won't stay on if you don't stop sweating.

Your record's been input into the prison system.

Psychotic serial killer, sadism, torture, multiple counts.

We just need a name for this psychopath.

Jackson Wyles.

Clinically speaking, he looks like a psycho.

What's your jacket?

I... I think it's polyester.

In prison, your jacket is your rap sheet, okay?

Let's-let's try this again.

Yo, you got beef?

You mean, like lunch meat?

This molar cap's a transmitter and a receiver.

The jaw bone sends sound waves to your inner ear.

No one will hear but you.

And you know how to implant this, right?

Would you relax? I went to med school.

Not dental school, though.

Oh. Oh, God.

I tapped into the prison's security cameras,

we can see you from here,

we can control when the guards see you on their monitors.

We'll be with you the whole time.

You get in, find the code's manual, memorize it,

the warden brings you back, 90 minutes tops.

I'm the only one who knows who you really are.

I'm the only one who matters.

You'll be fine.

Inmate number 984325J, Jackson Wyles.

Ready for gen pop.

I'll walk him in.

Want him to know we don't tolerate nonsense.

Go in looking like this, you're dead.

Remember, you're a killer.

I'm-I'm a killer.

They should be scared of you.

You got to stare 'em right through.

Breathe a bit through your mouth.

Like a predator.

Yeah. There you go.

Now you go settle into your cell,

and I'll bring you to the library shortly.

You can do this.

I can do this.

Yeah.

I can't do this.

W-w-wait.

Oh, boy.

♪ Scorpion 2x03 ♪ Fish Filet Original Air Date on October 5, 2015

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

Sir. Anything you need from the library?

Just making the rounds.

I have a library pass.

You new here, fish?

I have a library pass.

That's not smooth, Sylvester.

I'm trying to stay alive.

I'm not worried about smooth.

If you don't pass as the real deal,

you won't stay alive.

Be supportive. What is more supportive

than wanting someone to stay alive?

Sylvester, are you finding anything in those texts?

Nothing yet. The warden was right.

There's nothing here.

There's got to be something. You're missing it.

The books are pristine.

There's not a mark on them.

Hold on...

I know that tone.

That's his "I found something" tone.

What do you see, kid?

More like what don't I see.

It's a diagram of the human body

with no organs in it.

But there are ridges in the spine,

pieces of acetate.

Those books are a med school staple.

You lay over one acetate page

that shows the digestive tract,

another page lays in the heart.

Four or five pages, you get all the major organs.

Two shelves down:

Annals of Urban Infrastructure-- 713.01.

Next, Waynecroft's Veterinary Sciences--

636.089.

All right. Acetate has been ripped from Gray's Anatomy,

The Life Cycle of Plants,

and The History of the Combustion Engine.

The warden was right.

There's-there's nothing dubious

about what was in those books.

What is suspect is what's been taken from them.

Are there enough missing pages to create a manual?

Rough estimate: 20 to 25 pages.

So where are the pages now?

Shima wouldn't keep them in his cell.

That'd be the first place someone would look.

The warden's already searched it.

Shima's bad kidneys.

He needs dialysis treatment.

3 hours a day, 3 days a week he's in the infirmary?

That's a perfect place

for a guard or nurse that's on the take to turn a blind eye.

All that time alone. He can use his manual,

write kill orders in secret code,

send it to his boys on the outside, never get caught.

Sylvester, you're in the wrong place.

You need to get the warden to take you to the infirmary.

I can't get you into the infirmary.

You have to.

That's where we think Shima's hiding the code's manual.

If you think something's fishy

going on in sick bay,

then I don't know who to trust in there.

If I bring you in on the first day

with a headache, they'll know something's up.

Only inmates

with serious issues get med passes.

So what do we do?

Uh, Sylvester...

you and I are about to have

a very uncomfortable conversation.

Okay.

We got eyes on you in the yard.

Now we just need to find

the biggest, baddest con out there.

For you to pick a fight with.

This is directly contrary

to the advice that we gave to Ralph this morning.

We told him to run away.

I don't recall that conversation.

I've never been in a fight in my life.

You...

look very tough, Sylvester.

Really?

Okay. Nine o'clock.

That's your man.

The mountain in the tank top?

Come on, man!

Give me the ball!

Yep.

Go kick his ass, Sylvester.

Yeah!

That's how it's done, son.

Who got next? Yeah.

I want some playas!

Oh, my God. Who wants some?

Ten-Ton wants a real game!

Now who... What?

What the hell you want?

To teach you...

Oh, God...

You on my court.

Speak up, before I get angry.

I would like to teach you a lesson... punk.

'Scuse me?

What, are you...

ugly and deaf?

Like yo' momma?

Easy does it, Doc.

We want him to get punched, not murdered.

Hey, trick, I don't care how many people you killed.

This is my house

and I will stop your air.

So step off.

He's got a black-and-white striped bandana on his hip.

He's a 4th Street Jester.

Tear off his gang colors.

No, I don't want to. I don't want to.

I don't care if you don't "want to."

Oh. No, I... I wasn't talking to you.

I was talking to somebody else.

Yo, this fish is crazy.

You're not offending him, you're entertaining him.

Now disrespect his colors

or I'll make what he does to you look like a massage.

I'm sorry.

I have allergies.

Damn.

I didn't expect him to go that far. Mmm.

Ooh!

Everyone back to Gen Pop!

You heard me, inmate.

Gen Pop or solitary, your choice.

You and me ain't done.

That was hard to watch.

It was necessary. He had no choice.

Connors, take this idiot to the infirmary.

Sylvester, if you're okay, scratch your head.

Hello? Sylvester? Can you hear me?

Guys, are you there?

Uh-oh. Check this out.

Is that what I think it is?

His back left molar.

Now we know why he can't hear us.

He's stuck in there on his own.

This is bad.

Okay, now, move it side to side.

I think I have a spiral fracture.

I need an X-ray.

If you had a spiral fracture,

you wouldn't have your range of motion.

I should know about mandibulars.

I've dismembered nine transients.

Would you like a malpractice suit?

I'm in prison.

I've got nothing else to do.

I'll be back with the imager.

Okay. He got the doctor to leave,

but he won't be alone for long.

So I'm killing a camera feed from the infirmary

to the guards.

They'll just think that the monitors

are briefly malfunctioning.

It's such a big space.

Manual could be anywhere.

Look for the hemodialysis machine, you big lug.

They're huge! Check that back room!

You know he can't hear you, so why are you yelling?

You hate to dance, why are you going to a club?

Seems like we all do things that don't make sense.

Ooh! There you go, buddy! Right back there.

Yes!

Think. Think...

If I were a murderous gang lord with a bad kidney

who had to sit in here all day,

where would I hide the manual?

That's it-- sitting here all day.

He's immobile.

Huh...

Holy moly.

What is taking him so long?

The legend page is missing.

Uh, there he is.

I can't decipher this.

Already found the pages, the Warden gets him out,

you guys untangle the code and we go save those judges.

We got a problem.

They're bringing in a patient, fast.

Hurry up, Sly.

He still can't hear you. I know.

Start an I.V., normal saline.

Ten units insulin, sub-Q. Finger-stick blood sugar.

What's going on? Is that the warden?

Irregular pulse. Potassium must be high--

make it 20 units. Where the hell are the EMTs?

What is going on?

That's an insulin kit on the gurney.

Warden must be diabetic.

But he's got his medicine. Then that

must not have been insulin.

Someone inside the prison, on Shima's payroll,

must've replaced that insulin with something else.

They took out the warden's CI, the next logical move

is to take out the warden.

Look-- they're hustling him out.

The only person in Harrison who knows that Sylvester

isn't really a prisoner is out of the picture.

I, uh, really didn't

get my jaw checked out.

Could I can wait in sick bay?

Doc's got more important things right now than you.

It's a gazelle through the lions.

Looks delicious.

Just like high school.

Listen good, boy.

You disrespect my colors, you disrespect me.

See that guard over there?

That's my boy.

At 10:00, cell block lights out.

At 10:01, my man

brings me over to pay you a visit.

At 10:02, your lights go out.

Okay. He walked away.

Everything's gonna be fine.

You were saying?

Cabe, you need to do something.

I can't just call in a transfer order to the prison.

Why the hell not? We're Homeland.

Be smart.

The deputy warden is in charge now.

A man that Warden Jadlow says couldn't be trusted.

If we call saying Sylvester works for Homeland,

we might as well send a hearse instead of a transpo van.

Well, just say he's needed as a witness in a trial or something.

Pull him out

the same day he goes in?

That shines a shady light.

he will be in just as much danger. Come on, Cabe,

you're thinking with your heart and not your head.

Now, you said your man got a look at that code.

Is there any way he can get us the data so that we can start...

I got a 22-year-old kid

trapped in a maximum security prison

with a target on his back,

and you want to talk to me about that case?!

I am asking about something that can

the lives of three Federal judges who die within hours.

We have to prioritize!

I'm trying to save those judges,

but not without saving my man, too.

She can't pull him out?

Saving Sly is not on her to-do list.

We can't just leave him there. You have to pull some strings.

The only strings I can pull take a hell of a lot longer

than the six hours we have before they come after him.

I told him that he wasn't gonna be able to live with himself

if he didn't do this. Now I'm not gonna be able

to live with myself if something happens to him.

We got to find a way to get them to release him.

They'll never release him in time.

That's why our only option is to break Sylvester out of prison.

Read 'em and weep-- the schematics of the prison.

Looks airtight.

Vents?

Nothing with outside access.

Can we Shawshank it?

The sewage pipes are too narrow.

Is there a way to tunnel?

The prison's built on bedrock.

Well, it's secure all right.

But there's always a single point of failure.

What is this?

This structure

beneath the basement room?

That room has floor drainage.

Happy, this over here?

Independent cooling system.

Okay, so I'd say this room

is the prison morgue and that structure

is the underground bladder to house biomedical waste.

It's a perfect extraction point.

Prisoners don't have access to it.

Guards almost never have a reason to go

This water main here?

Oh, that carries water and bleach.

EPA regs say that before biohazard trucks

can pump it out and cart it off, biohazardous waste

has to be diluted to certain specs.

The water main runs right

under the subterranean access road

that the biohazard trucks must use to make pickups.

So, what-- we're gonna climb in through a pipe

filled with biohazardous backwash?

No, but we're still gonna use the pipe to get in.

Even if you can get into the morgue,

how do you plan to get Sylvester there?

Short answer-- kill him.

I can design a drug that will make him appear dead.

A little plenzamine to slow the heart,

sprig of dolazepam to rev down the brain,

dusting of ephedrine to make

his hands cold to the touch.

Voila-- near-perfect mimic of death.

Pulse is active, but undetectable.

with breathing more shallow

then the cheerleaders at my high school.

Guards assume Sly's

had a cardiac episode,

toss him down with the stiffs.

Where we will be waiting for him.

But how do we get the drugs to Sylvester?

Well, prisons are full of narcotics,

but Sly isn't plugged in there; he doesn't know who to approach;

and he'll probably get pummeled if he did.

Why do you look like you just smelled sour milk?

Because I think I know a guy who can help us,

But I'm just really, really unsure about this.

I am so glad you came to me for help, Wally.

Right from the get-go I felt a connection between us.

Certain anything that you felt was

was completely in your head. I'm so sorry.

How rude. You guys want some coffee?

No. No.

So, we just need your help, Ray,

We need to get some pharmaceuticals

to our friend in Harrison Prison.

You got a pal in Harrison?

See?

I knew you were a gangster.

Excuse me one second.

It's been a while since

I have entertained, so...

Walter, maybe this was a mistake. Pardon me, Wally.

Uh, no offense, but I just don't want Sylvester's life

in the hands of a guy who lives in a Gremlin.

None taken. It's just temporary,

until my app business takes off, see?

Once I think of a good app.

Ray, can you help or not?

Absolutely, amigo.

Please.

I know this guy--

BooBoo--

a few years back I cut him in

on a used carpets deal in Redondo.

Carpets-- that's the wave of the future right there.

We're on a clock.

BooBoo runs the...

pharmacy, so to speak, in Harrison.

He can totally hook your boy up.

I just got to ask him.

Set up a meeting and in a few weeks...

We don't have a few weeks.

We need to get the pills to him today.

Visits are scheduled weeks in advance.

So we're screwed.

Easy now, Patty.

Paige. In life,

there are three ways of getting things done--

the right way, the wrong way,

and the Ray Way.

And the Ray Way involves

a special kind of visitation that gets priority.

Counselors.

Attorney/client room is this way. Hi.

Very nice. Thank you, ma'am.

You know...

your girl Happy makes great fake I.D.'s.

I know a high school

where we could make a mint.

Trouble?

My son's being bullied in school.

Oh, he'll push through it.

I was bullied a ton as a kid,

and look at me now-- a lawyer.

You're not a lawyer.

Objection.

Argumentative.

This is the biggest bag of yeast we got.

You brewing beer?

I'm brewing trouble, lady.

Happy, what's cooking?

A big batch of H2O2.

Walt, you get the wheels yet?

I'm working on it.

Cabe, you almost done?

Just about. Okay.

We're in business.

Now, all we need is for your friend to deliver.

Think he can handle it?

Ray's not my friend, and I don't know.

You know those are takeout menus.

No...

Are you holding up okay?

I am in prison, Paige,

about to be killed.

Would you like to start with a new question?

Sorry.

Good news is we're getting you out of here.

Bad news is it's through the morgue.

Through the morgue?

Well, how the heck am I supposed to get down there?

So you deliver these drugs in these doses

to that guy over there, okay?

No dice.

That psycho's a marked man.

He pissed off Ten-Ton.

You owe me.

I testified on your behalf.

If you want me to help...

thousand bucks in my kick.

Done.

Homeland Security's got you covered.

So let me get this straight.

Step one, I take the pills.

Step two... I die? No.

Almost die.

Toby says you-you just come close to death.

You guys are unbelievable.

You send me in here, and you tell me that

you're gonna be with me the entire time,

and then my comms get knocked out of my head.

My only contact in here

is comatose.

And now you want me to dabble in suicide.

Well, it's not gonna happen. I won't do it.

Toby said you'd feel this way.

Fine.

I trust Toby's drug calculations,

but what if BooBoo is not the pharmacist that we think he is.

I take offense to that.

Sustained.

Ray swears by the guy.

That brings me to my next question.

Who the hell is Ray?

I'm Walter's new friend.

Really nice to meet you.

Walter trusts him, and we are out of options.

You take the pills, we break you out,

we save the judges-- easy.

Not sure about the "save the judges" part.

I memorized the manual, but the legend was missing.

It's the key to the code's use patterns.

Without it, I can't decrypt the names. Those judges

die at midnight-- you have to find the missing legend.

It could be anywhere in this place.

Shima's confined to a wheelchair 90% of the day.

There has to be some limit on where he could hide it.

The wheelchair.

It's logical that he hides it somewhere inside the chair.

That way it's with him but not on him,

and it's never found.

You have to get it by 9:45, because Toby says

it takes 15 minutes for the drugs to kick in,

and you have to be dead before Ten-Ton comes to kill you.

I can't believe that sentence makes sense.

Okay, you got to go. Look at me.

I believe in you; the whole team does.

That's right,

Sylvester, we all do-- the whole team.

♪ ♪

It's too late.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

You almost ready?

The hydrogen peroxide has to be extra concentrated

or it won't work. Two cans over there,

- third one's coming up. - I'll put these

- on the truck. - I got the yeast, extra yeasty.

Okay, load it up. We almost ready?

Next time you guys mix the stuff.

Are you still not sure

if Sylvester got the legend or not?

By the time I got back, all I saw on the surveillance feed

were the guards zipping him in a body bag

and wheeling him on a gurney-- it was... creepy.

We're ready. Okay, okay, so quick rundown.

When we get there, Happy, you mix the hydrogen peroxide

with the yeast while Cabe and I run do the service road

to the morgue's exterior access door,

which will open once that pipe explodes.

Okay, you better be in position, because as soon

as the HP solution hits the water main

with the yeast, it'll create massive amounts of O2.

The pressure will either blow through the truck or the pipe.

- I've got 60-40 odds on the pipe. - You better hit it.

Clock's ticking for the judges and for Sly.

♪ ♪

- Happy, get your comms in. - Hurry up,

Sylvester's gonna wake up any second now.

Sylvester?

Sylvester?

Walter?

Walter.

I did it.

- I survived death! - Good for you.

Okay, there are two shut-off valves near the door.

Turn them both to the right till they stop

and then back away from the door.

The explosion will blast the door off.

Tank's almost empty. Any second now,

the water main's gonna blow.

Okay, back away from the door now, kid!

All personnel, we have a breach at B24!

Can't find my gun!

Doesn't matter!

We got Sylvester!

Hey! Did you get the legend?

No, I passed out first.

Judges die without the legend.

Guys, we gotta run.

The guards are probably on their way here now.

No, I was basically dead.

I didn't just go through all that to give up.

Right now, going back into that prison does not seem

as big as it should be.

Sylvester, we can't. The guards will catch us.

Not if they can't see us.

Toby, can you black out the cameras to the guards,

just like Walt's been doing?

Toby, did you catch that?

I'm not a hacker, but that should be easy enough.

We lost visual.

Come on, guys, we can do this. Let's hustle.

Get this comm in your ear.

What's got into you, kid?

A bunch of pills that almost killed me.

Medical storage.

Ahead to the left.

Bingo.

Got it. Okay, you memorized the manual,

now you have the legend. Get to work.

30 minutes till midnight,

so we got to do this on the move,

if we're gonna give those judges a chance.

Are we clear, guys?

Hallway's empty. Shake a leg.

Uh, we're having some issues with that camera

around the next corner.

You're gonna have to play peekaboo.

We'll check. Stay there and take care of that code!

All units! Attention, all units!

Lock it down! Lock it down!

You supposed to be dead, new fish.

It's time to make the rumors true.

I have a limit of one death per day.

Sylvester, it's clear! Let's go!

Happy, get the engine running!

I'm at the bottom of the hill. Things sound crazy up there.

I suggest you hustle.

Toby, the first judge's name is Kedwin!

There! Robert Kedwin! Okay, Director Molina,

the first judge's name is Robert Kedwin.

Finish the code!

Lockdown! Code red! Lockdown! Code red!

Second judge's name is Soretti!

Two down, one to go, Sly.

No, no...

Gotta try!

Got it.

Lockdown, code red!

Lockdown, code red!

The last judge's name...

Sylvester!

Excuse me, Officer!

Thanks! The last judge's name is Mueller!

I was nearly drugged and choked to death today.

All less scary than your driving.

We continue coverage of the incredible

Harrison Prison scandal that broke late last night.

It's been confirmed that

two gang member assassins were arrested

while staking out judges' homes, while a third was killed

in a shootout with authorities.

Just got off with DOJ.

They've appointed a federal monitor for the prison.

Looks like our friend the warden's gonna have help

cleaning up that rat's nest, once he's recovered.

And Shima's crew?

Dispersing them from Walpole, Mass, to North Dakota.

Shima himself will live out his days

in a supermax outside of Anchorage.

Your team did fine work.

Wish I could say the same for you.

Excuse me?

You were willing to sacrifice one of my team

to make your case.

I was thinking about three members

of the federal judiciary. You were thinking about

what would look worse for you,

three dead judges or one dead kid.

I'm a Marine.

"No man left behind" means something to me.

My hope was to protect everyone involved.

Don't try to politick your way out of this.

I don't trust you anymore.

I will never put my people's lives in your hands again.

And if that costs me my job,

so be it.

Some things are more important.

Thanks, Cabe.

We're a team, right?

A family.

Holy TV stars.

I'm here with Ralph Dineen.

Hi, Ralph. Hello.

Ralph, get in here! Ralph, I understand

you've just been accepted to Harvard, MIT,

Caltech,

to name a few.

Not bad for a ten-year-old.

How did this happen? I applied.

Really? Does your mom...

Ralph...

Now I'm a celebrity at school.

Kids don't pick on celebrities.

He's right. I mean, this was an efficient plan involving...

zero confrontation.

I never signed off

on-on, on TV interviews.

Of course you can speak to my son Ralph.

I'm so proud of him.

I've been saying

for months that Ralph needs to ditch that school.

I'm staying in elementary school.

If I can't relate to humans,

I'll turn out like you guys.

Ouch.

Uh...

Okay, I-I respect your position.

But you should consider

taking night classes at Caltech.

You have a... a gift.

You should hone it.

Go finish

your breakfast.

Did you see how he took the idea of going to college?

It's exactly what I've said

about him needing more of a challenge.

Hear what he said about relating

to regular people? That's what I've been

trying to do for you for a while.

And you're making progress with me.

And to continue that progress,

I think you need people in your life

outside of the garage.

It might sound drastic, but I met someone today

who seemed to take a liking to you.

Not Ray. He's strange

and a touch annoying, but he's human.

And he came through for us.

He might be an opportunity

for growth for you.

How can I, uh, put this?

No.

Hello?

Chet?

Hey.

I missed you at the club last night.

Yeah. Uh, work ran late.

No worries. You maybe want to head over there tonight?

Same time? Sure.

Um, I'm gonna walk you out.

Happy, don't you want to introduce us...

...us?

What are you doing, Doc?

Well, Freud would say I'm beating up on myself.

Ah, Happy's gentleman caller's got you down.

I get it. You want to hit something.

Yeah, like his stupid face.

Hey, wait, wait, wait. Hold on.

Hold this.

All right...

get your hands up,

elbows in,

and then you want to turn your hands

like you're opening a doorknob.

All right?

You try.

There you go.

All right. Put your weight behind it.

Nice!

Listen to that snap.

There you go.

Megan...

when I was here yesterday,

I wasn't 100% honest with you.

There was something I wanted to say,

but... I was scared.

This is the mating song of the Coolangatta egret.

This bird practices lifelong fidelity.

And when it knows it's found its one true mate,

it does this.

This egret dance describes how I feel.

I feel like I'm...

in love with you.

I love you, too.

See, that wasn't scary.

Yeah, I honestly, I don't know.

Hey. Wally!

Great news, man, supervisor just cut us loose until mañana.

Really? Why?

Uh, somebody wrecked the water truck last night.

You know, uh, speaking of, uh, yesterday, I, um...

...thank you for your help.

It's what I do.

I'm a problem solver.

You'll learn. The Ray Way always leads to victo-ray.

Okay. Uh, anyhoo, I was thinking,

since we've got the morning off,

I was gonna lift that paint tarp over there.

Me and some of the guys, we're gonna head up to Griffith Park,

strip down to our undergear, oil up with Crisco,

and see where gravity takes us.

Like a big Slip 'N Slide.

Any interest?

Not even remotely, no.

Come on. We could use a timer.

I suppose I could keep time.

Sweet.

Let's get a move on, brother!

Now, the-the timer doesn't have to get into his underwear

and-and oil up, does he?

No. Don't make this weird, bro.

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

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