All language subtitles for JAG.S01E15.DVDRip.XviD-TOPAZ.eng

We lost sector 21.

I'll check it out.

S-16 to base.

Base. Go ahead.

I'm locked out of N-62.
Can you buzz me in from there?

It's gotta be there. I just faxed it.

Somebody out there has it.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning, Lieutenant.

- How'd it go?
- I passed.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

I hope you had a good weekend.

Why?

Sixty more financial disclosure
statements waiting for us this morning.

- I thought we were done with that detail.
- I thought so, too.

Don't tell me.

Krennick.

- What's the deadline?
- Friday.

- Where is the dragon lady anyway?
- She's been here twice looking for you.

Here you go.

Divide and conquer.
You can take "A" through "M"

and I'll finish the rest.

- I should have called in sick.
- You seem pretty fit to me, Commander.

11:30.
I thought you were the dawn patrol type.

Well, I am, ma'am. I was up at 0500
for my annual check ride.

- You were flying?
- Yes, ma'am.

Well, let's see if you can fly these.

Bureau of Navy Personnel's backed up

on Freedom
of Information Act requests.

I told them we'd handle the excess.

- We?
- Yes.

I volunteered the services of my staff.
Is there a problem, Commander?

No, ma'am.

Not high-profile enough for you?

On the contrary,
I have an aversion to the spotlight.

Well, that's good to know.

I always try to be sensitive
to the needs of others.

Why do you bait her like that, sir?

Like what?

Not everything
needs to be a confrontation.

You should try being nice.
She might loosen up.

I doubt it.

How do you know?
She might have a soft side.

Yeah, like Attila the Hun.
Meg, what is this?

- What?
- This fax. It's an itinerary.

I haven't had a chance to look at it yet.

Came in at 0200. No cover sheet.

- Mysterious.
- Code name, Shepard.

I'd say some kind of foreign dignitary.

It's probably someone from the Balkans.

No. He's Russian.
The embassy's listed.

You think it was sent here by mistake?

Unless you're moonlighting
and didn't tell me.

It's got a Pentagon prefix.

Maybe we shouldn't be looking at this.
We might need clearance.

- Well, it was sent to you, wasn't it?
- What should we do with it?

Let's put it in the safe.

I'm having lunch today
with a friend from Annapolis.

He works in Naval Intelligence
at the Pentagon.

I'll ask him about it.

But you just got here.
You're going to lunch?

We can't have classified material
laying around the office.

Cover for me, will you?

I've been working in
Naval Intelligence seven years.

I've never seen the inside
of a Cuban military base.

- Trust me. You're not missing much.
- False modesty.

It's a tell-tale sign of ambition.

Let's see. Naval hero,

- lawyer.
- Sir.

Man, all you need is a wife.
You can run for Congress.

I'm not that masochistic.

You don't fool me, Harm.
You're a baby kisser if I ever saw one.

And I've seen a bunch of them
across the briefing table.

Speaking of which,

what do you know
about a foreign dignitary,

code name, Shepard?

Never heard of him.

I'd have thought seven years

would have made you
a better liar, Bruce.

Yeah. What can I say?
I'm a pillar of virtue.

I don't think the good
Reverend Marshall would agree.

I didn't know
she was his daughter, Harm.

Ignorance is no excuse,
especially for a spook.

If there were a...

- Shepard.
- Shepard. Yeah.

Exactly what would you
know about him?

His itinerary was faxed
to our office last night.

- What?
- From someone at the Pentagon.

- Are you sure? Who?
- I don't know. N-62 Prefix.

- Damn Brits.
- So, who's Shepard?

I'm sorry, Harm.
No can do. It's classified.

- Isn't everything?
- No. I mean it.

This thing's really hush-hush.

My advice?
Pretend you never even saw this fax.

You go back to your office and shred it.

Then let me guess.
This is a non-conversation.

I'm serious, Harm. Shred it.

- Lieutenant Austin?
- Yes, sir?

Keith Nelson. Royal Navy.
Your yeoman wasn't at his desk.

No, everyone's at lunch.

Except you. Pushing for a promotion?

No, just doing the work of two.
How can I help you?

It's a bit embarrassing,

but I'm rather hoping
you received a fax intended for me.

Shepard's schedule?

- You've got it.
- Yes, sir.

What a bloody relief.
My secretary's a bit dyslexic.

I was hoping
she'd only transposed the last two digits

and thank God
that's precisely what she's done.

- Could I have it, please?
- Yes. Of course.

How did you track the fax number
back to me? That's classified.

I'm afraid
I'm of British Naval Intelligence.

We have computers
that unclassify that sort of thing.

I guess that's only fair.

Harm and I were trying to decipher
who Shepard was.

Harm?

Yeah, my senior partner.
Lieutenant Commander Rabb.

We both agreed it was
a foreign dignitary

but he said Russian
and I said someone from the Balkans.

- But neither one of us thought British.
- Afraid I can't say, Lieutenant.

The fax, please?

Commander Krennick,
Commander Nelson. Royal Navy.

- Commander.
- Pleasure.

Where is Lieutenant Commander Rabb?

He's gone to the library
to do some research.

Instead of using his computer?

Well, Lieutenant Commander Rabb,
he's rather old-fashioned.

He prefers flipping through
the law books to clicking a mouse.

Did he say that?

Or are you covering
for his going to lunch

and using you as his law clerk?

When Lieutenant
Commander Rabb returns,

I want to see him in my office, ASAP.

Commander.

Afraid your Lieutenant Commander
is in for some rough seas.

Yeah. He's a survivor, sir.

- We'll see.
- Sir?

And also tell him...

Security!

Security!

Take it easy! Careful now!

All right, she's clear. She's clear.

One wound. Gunshot to the head.
Had to resuscitate her at the site.

She's hypertensive and brady.

B.P. 190 over 60, pulse 40,
25 grams mannitol.

- All right.
- Lieutenant, I'm Commander Krennick.

- Are you hit?
- What?

- Are you wounded?
- No. It's Lieutenant Austin's blood.

- Who's the neuro?
- Better run if you want to catch him.

She was shot right behind
the mastoid. B. P?

Still elevated.

Let's get her some nipride onboard
as soon as we get her stabilised.

Let's go!

- I'll need an intubation tray.
- I got it.

- Have respiratory standing by.
- Already been called.

- I need Commander Shuster.
- He's an hour away.

She hasn't got an hour. I'll have to go in.

- We'll use the O.R. CAT
- That's not as accurate...

We're not looking
for a pinpoint haemorrhage.

She's got a slug in her head.
Now, get her prepped. Stat!

Yes, Doctor. Right away.

Where's Lieutenant
Commander Elsinga?

Be here in ten.
I figured you'd want her by your side.

Who's Lieutenant Commander Elsinga?

Commander, I don't mean to be rude

but we're trying to save
your Lieutenant's life.

I suggest you get a cup of coffee,

we'll call you
when we know what's going on.

Go to hell, Lieutenant! Who's Elsinga?

Lieutenant Commander Greta Elsinga.

The best O.R. Nurse
in Bethesda, ma'am.

Well, at least we've got the best of
something which obviously you're not,

or you wouldn't be calling
for Commander Shuster

or looking for support
from Lieutenant Commander Elsinga.

How long would it take
to helicopter Commander Shuster here?

The Commander is being
choppered in, ma'am.

- Well, I guess you're it.
- Or we could just let her die.

You don't want to get smart
with me, Lieutenant.

If she dies, so does your career.

Count on it.

Dr Raymond to NICU.

Dr Raymond to NICU.

- Nurse Elsinga's here.
- What have you got, Doctor?

She's haemorrhaging.

I have to open her up,
try to control the bleeding.

- We'll let Shuster remove the slug.
- We might not be able to wait that long.

I know.

Okay. Let's get to work.

- Excuse me.
- May I help you, sir?

- I'm looking for a Lieutenant J.G. Austin.
- Yes, sir. She's in surgery.

- I have to go.
- Is she okay?

I'm not at liberty to say, sir.

Well, can you tell me
how long she'll be in surgery?

I'm sorry, Commander. But I couldn't
begin to give you an estimate.

Another 40 to 45 minutes.
Coffee's in the staff lounge.

Was that a guess or do you know?

In the Ice Ages,

I clerked for an insurance firm
that covered hospitals.

You'd be surprised how many
gunshot victims figure

they can't collect on whoever shot them,
so they sue whoever saved them.

If she goes longer
than another 45 minutes

the damage must be so extensive

that even if she survives,
we'll wish she hadn't.

Yeah.

Look, all Admiral Chegwiddin told me

was that she was shot
and medivaced here.

A Commander Nelson,
although I doubt that's his real name,

shot her in the head with a pistol.

Took a shot at me,
missed, and disappeared.

- What was he after?
- Obviously, Lieutenant Austin.

I just walked in on the shooting.

- Can you describe him?
- Yeah. 6'2",

dark hair, blue eyes,
good-looking, 40-ish.

By the way, he's British Royal Navy.

- British Royal Navy?
- Yeah.

There was a fax
in Meg's machine early this morning

detailing a secret itinerary
for someone code-named Shepard.

- Nelson?
- I doubt it.

But when I was having lunch with
Lieutenant Commander Carmichael...

Lieutenant Austin said
you were at the law library.

Anyway, while you were having lunch

with Lieutenant Commander
Carmichael...

I mentioned the Shepard fax.

He damn near choked.
He told me to shred it and forget it.

When I mentioned it had an N-62 Prefix

he mumbled something
about the Brits screwing up.

I'll call a friend at the British Embassy.

See what he can tell us.

I don't see any subdural collections.
Looks like the mastoid's intact.

We won't know for sure
till we get the slug out.

- Where the hell is Shuster?
- At least 10 minutes.

We haven't got the time.
We gotta relieve the pressure now.

All right, boys and girls, here we go.

Irrigate. Suction.

Retractor.

Daddy! Daddy!

It's my little girl!

I thought you were gone, Daddy.
I thought you were gone forever.

Baby. I would never leave you forever.
Never.

Have you sent someone by?
No, I'm, I'm sorry. I'm sure you are.

Yes, I understand.

Thank you, Commander.

- Forty minutes.
- Yeah.

She was very lucky.

The bullet lodged between
the inner skull and the back of the brain.

We were able to remove the slug

and there's no apparent
cerebellar tissue loss.

If she comes out

it's possible she'll suffer little
or no brain damage.

- Lf she comes out?
- There was a lot of bleeding.

And severe swelling
causing intracranial pressure.

- Bottom line, Lieutenant?
- She slipped into a coma.

Now, it's not uncommon
for this kind of trauma.

I've seen people pull out.
It's just hard to predict.

We've administered
an anticonvulsant therapy

but there's always the possibility

of multiple complications
after brain surgery.

Can we see her?

I'm sorry, sir.
We're transferring her down to ICU.

- Keep us posted, Lieutenant.
- Yes, ma'am.

And Lieutenant,

thank you.

N-62 is the Royal Navy's
Pentagon offices.

I called. There is a Commander Nelson

but he didn't report
to work this morning.

- Did somebody call her mother?
- They're still trying to reach her.

- Where are you going?
- To get that fax.

It's not there.

That's what
Commander Nelson was after.

- Lf he was Commander Nelson.
- There's only one way to find out.

Hold on, Commander.

We're not going anywhere
until I change.

At some point,
we're going to have to involve State.

- They'll just shut us out and you know it.
- A foreign officer could be involved.

Who shot my partner in the head.

This is not
a vigilante mission, Commander.

I'm not going to let you
shoot your way through it.

And I'm not going to let
that bastard get away

while you make points with State.

You are way out of line, mister!

I'm going to forgive that
because your partner's lying in a coma.

But I care about the people I work with
as much as you.

I want that bastard, too.

I apologise, Commander.
I was out of line.

You want to feel guilty, Harm?

Feel guilty
for dumping your work on her.

But don't think you would have
somehow prevented this

if you were there.

You'd both probably
have bullets in your heads.

I'm afraid
we've located Commander Nelson.

He's in his apartment.

We're gonna have to go ahead
and dust this area, Bill.

You want to do it?

That's not him.

Why am I not surprised?
How long has he been dead?

- Twenty-four to thirty-six hours.
- Cause of death?

Apparently a bullet
to the back of the head.

Well, he's bold. I'll give him that.

Walked right into our office

masquerading as someone
he'd already killed.

That itinerary must have been
damned important

for him to take a risk like that.

Harm?
What the hell are you doing here?

Someone calling himself
Commander Nelson

shot my partner this afternoon.

I know. I'm sorry.

He got that fax.

- And I told you to shred it.
- Who the hell is Shepard?

I told you. That's classified.

I think a bullet in my partner's head
earned that clearance.

Harm, I understand that you're upset.

But you have got to let the people that
know what they're doing handle this.

Would that be you,
Lieutenant Commander?

Yes, ma'am. It would.

You don't seem to be doing
a very good job of it.

Now do you see
why I wanna go to State?

- They'll just stonewall us, too.
- Everyone will, Harm.

Not everyone.

Her dad always bragged
about her hard head.

Said it was the Irish in her.

- Yes, sir.
- Any change?

No. Not yet, but don't count her out.
Meg's a fighter.

Looks like you've really
stepped in it this time, Commander.

It would appear so, sir.

Sir, this is
Commander Allison Krennick.

- Krennick.
- Real pleasure, Colonel.

Were you able to get a line
on who Shepard is?

- Can she be trusted?
- Without a doubt, sir.

Shepard is Boris Yeltsin.

He arrives here
in Washington tomorrow

on a secret mission
to sign an agreement

banning the sale of
nuclear material to Pakistan.

And there is only one reason
to kill for his itinerary.

- To assassinate him.
- It's worse than that.

I'm convinced that
the assassin is Hemlock.

- I thought he was a CIA myth.
- So was Carlos until we got him.

I believe that Hemlock's
working for the Russian hardliners.

Three up and coming centrists
have disappeared

the last several months

and if they can kill Yeltsin
while he's here in the United States,

they win on two fronts.

I don't suppose
anyone has a picture of Hemlock on file.

- No one alive has ever seen him.
- I have.

Then you, Commander, are a target.

- I didn't know you were an artist.
- I'm not as good as I'd like to be.

I can't get the eyes right.

- What's wrong with them?
- It's hard to explain. They're just...

colder, almost empty.

You know, if this guy's
as good as they say

I'm sure he can change his appearance.

- Well, it's a start.
- I doubt it.

He's probably out of the country by now.

What, you think he'd just give up?

- He's been compromised.
- Has he?

He has to know
the itinerary will be changed.

And he can't risk
another trip to the Pentagon.

Yeah, well, he's not going to leave
any loose ends, either.

We need to get you to a safe house.

Do you really want
to cloister me like a nun?

Chegwiddin.

What the hell's
he doing in here this early?

I don't know.

My phone's been ringing all night long.

State, Secret Service,
Naval Intelligence.

Even the damn Park Police
want me to call off my dogs.

Say you're crapping on their lawn.

That's because
we're a step ahead of them, Admiral.

This is a sketch
of Lieutenant Austin's shooter.

We have reason to believe it's Hemlock.

The assassin?

Yes, sir. It appears
he's here to kill President Yeltsin, sir.

Somebody needs to
give him a geography lesson.

Yeltsin's arriving
in Washington tomorrow

to sign a secret arms agreement.

Stand at ease.

How the hell did we get involved in this?

Pure accident, Admiral.

Hemlock infiltrated the Pentagon office

of a Royal Navy Commander
named Nelson,

got Yeltsin's itinerary
from Nelson's computer

and downloaded it
to Lieutenant Austin's fax by mistake.

He posed as Commander Nelson
to retrieve the fax

and shot Lieutenant Austin
because she could identify him, sir.

We have a chance to find him
with this sketch.

- Which the other agencies don't have.
- No, sir.

Screw them. Steal their thunder.

- Sir?
- Steal their thunder!

S.O.B. Comes in here
and shoots one of my officers

I want him stuffed
and put in my trophy room.

- And I want us to do it.
- Yes, sir.

Dismissed.

Sir, Commander Krennick is at risk.

She's the only one
beside Lieutenant Austin

who knows what Hemlock looks like, sir.

I beg your pardon, sir,

but it seems we all know
what Hemlock looks like.

Only you can identify him in court.

Sir, we have guards posted at Bethesda
to protect Lieutenant Austin.

Prudence would suggest

we move Commander Krennick
to a safe house.

When I became
a Naval officer, Commander Rabb,

I fully expected to take risk.

You don't have to
make yourself a target...

- I am not making...
- That's enough.

I expect you
to exercise due caution, Commander.

Yes, sir.

As you were.

Aye, sir.

Nice try.

She's convulsing! Get Dr Klein. Now!

I could use some help in here!

She's decerebrating.

- How long?
- I don't know.

I'll have to drain the ventricle here.

Give me a twist drill
and number 18 spinal needle now.

- I missed you so much.
- I missed you, too, darling.

- Why didn't you come back?
- Well, I wanted to, Meg.

But I had to wait
till you really needed me.

- I do, Daddy. I do.
- I know you do.

You smell so good.

Who is it?

It's Lieutenant Commander Rabb
and Commander Krennick.

Ollie sent us.

Something wrong?

Are those real or did you buy them?

Original equipment.
Inherited from my grandmother.

Ollie said that you could access
the Pentagon's personnel files.

I can access the whole damn...
The network.

My grandmother left me this place.

But I like what yours left you better.

So do I.

It's

right through...

Copper. Bug-proof.

Yup. What's the name?

I'm afraid we don't have one.

You got to give me some place to start.

Well, he would have been hired
within the last, what, three months?

- Yes.
- Well, that should narrow the field.

Okay, we are down
to less than 130 employees.

You said "he," so I assume
that you are looking for a male.

That narrows it to 86.

Okay. You think
we can trust physical characteristics?

He can't change his height that much.

Try anyone between 5'10"and 6'3".

- Fifty seven.
- Where do you think he'd be working?

Somewhere that would give him access
with minimum exposure.

Okay.

Custodial.

Nice low profile.
Not much of a security screen.

And we are down to

seventeen names, my friends.

How many worked over the weekend?

Well, then I would have to go
into scheduling.

- Is that a problem?
- Not if you take me to dinner.

Fine.

Eleven. Can we eliminate
blacks and Hispanics?

Yes.

- Four.
- That's manageable.

Can you pull them up?

You'd have to wear something black
above the knee.

Don't push it.

- That's strange.
- What?

This one doesn't have a picture on file.

All employee ID pictures

are scanned into the system
and stored digitally.

This one must have been removed.

- That's our man. Richard Ellzey.
- 4111, M Street.

I would like someplace romantic.

Candlelight, soft music and...

Preferably a hotel.

Looks like somebody
figured it out before us.

And I know who.

Bravo team. Go, go, go!

JAG. We're with
Lieutenant Commander Carmichael.

So, on the other side
we got the flank and the snipers.

Yeah. If we can get back that way,
we could...

- What the hell are you doing here?
- Is he in there?

- Who?
- Hemlock.

I don't know what you're talking about.
We're after a Richard Ellzey.

Harm, I told you we're on this!

Now get out of here
before I have to call...

Get down!

Alpha team, go!

Victor One. Command.
What's your status?

Victor One. Command.
What's your status? Over.

Command. Victor One.
Suspect is down.

- Dead?
- Affirmative.

He blew his head off with a shotgun.

- What do you think, Commander?
- He could use a head.

The size and body shape is right.

That looks like the pistol
he shot Lieutenant Austin with.

It's Hemlock.

- You can't be sure.
- We'll check his prints. I know it's him.

- No one has Hemlock's prints.
- Look, Harm, I'm really sorry

you didn't get to blow him away
to avenge your partner,

but don't turn him into Elvis.

- I got Hemlock.
- You son of a bitch.

My partner's in a coma
because you were afraid

we'd be onto something
that'd steal your glory.

You knew Hemlock was after Yeltsin,

you knew anyone
who had that fax was in danger

and still you stonewalled me.

Well, no more.
You've got proof, I want it!

Fine.

I'll tell you.
And that's the end of it, Commander.

When your partner got shot,
I ran combinations on her fax number.

It turns out a Richard Ellzey
has the same number

if you transpose the last two digits.

He was hired as a Pentagon janitor
about a month ago.

A deeper check
showed that Ellzey died in infancy.

In 1954.

- You're welcome!
- Go to hell!

I'm telling you, Commander,
it just doesn't feel right.

How so?

Look, if the CIA did
an extensive workup on Hemlock

this is a true sociopath.

He's not the kind of person
who's gonna commit suicide.

- He'd have gone down fighting.
- He did for a while.

I don't think he wanted to be taken alive.

Could be. I...

Marine.

Tell me something.

Why is Lieutenant Commander Rabb
feeling so responsible?

- He's a good officer.
- Yes. He is that.

Colonel, is the Yeltsin trip still on?

He's in the air as we speak.

I don't think it's safe
for you to be going home.

Because of what Ollie said?

The Colonel's got pretty good instincts.
You need to be careful.

At least until Yeltsin's trip is over.

I'm going home
and taking a long hot bath.

Now, if you're really worried,
you can join me.

I'm going back to the hospital.

Ollie's there.
They'll call us if there's any change.

- Harm, you haven't slept in two days.
- I'll sleep when Meg's awake.

But I'll take a rain check.

If that were me in that coma,

would you...

Of course I would.

That's nice to know.

Don't start it!

- Open the hood.
- Harm, you're paranoid.

Humour me.

- Satisfied?
- Nope.

You're holding up my bath.

Call the bomb squad.

It doesn't prove he's alive.

My car's been parked here
since I came to work Monday.

Hemlock could have planted it anytime

after shooting Lieutenant Austin
and the raid on his apartment.

That was a weird one.

You could safely start the car
until the timer armed it.

After that, you turn that ignition, boom.

- When would the timer arm it?
- 12:00.

- Noon or midnight?
- It must be noon. It hadn't activated yet.

- He planted it after midnight.
- Hemlock's alive.

- Hold it!
- Yeah?

U.S. Secret Service.
I got to take it from here, pal.

Sure thing.
If you just want to sign right there.

Four dozen.

Sure.

Thank you.

Ladies and gentlemen,
may I have your attention, please?

I'm afraid you have been invited
to our reception

under false pretexts.

You are not here to witness
the signing of a trade agreement

between myself and Ambassador Cook.

Instead, you are here
to witness the historic signing

of a new nuclear non-proliferation treaty

between the President
of the United States,

the British Prime Minister
and the President of Russia.

Bruce.

- Now what?
- Hemlock's alive.

Give it a rest, Harm.

He planted a bomb in my car
sometime after midnight.

- Okay, who the hell's Ellzey?
- Who the hell cares?

An accomplice, a fall guy,
what does it matter?

Hemlock's out there.

The bomb was set to arm
after 12:00 noon.

That's when Yeltsin's
supposed to sign the treaty.

Where?

Where, damn it.

Embassy Row Hotel.

Even if he is alive,
he'll never get past security!

All right. Hold it right there, please.

- Fine. All right. You're all clear.
- Walk.

Go ahead, go on, get out.

I expect you to figure this out.

I need those five people here
and I need them now.

This can't wait. No. I need...

- Identification, please.
- Who are you?

Gorbov. Russian security.

May I see your identification, please?

- Thank you.
- Sure.

I don't know you. Who are you?

Murdoch. British Secret Service.

Thank you.

- Hold it! Stop right there.
- Hemlock is in there.

Sir, if you don't back up right now,
I will arrest you.

They're okay, George.

Let's spread out.

Gun!

Get down!

I'm all right! I'm all right. Get him, Harm.

- Where is he?
- I don't know.

There! The blond with the blue blazer!

- The last man!
- Hemlock!

Stay with him.

They changed their minds.
They want it back!

Easy, man!

Stop!

Tell me it's him.

It's him.

Meg? Meg?

- I got to go, Meg.
- I want to go with you.

Not today. You're not ready.

Yes, I am.
I want to go with you. Please?

There's no need to rush things.

We're going to ride together
soon enough.

It's just not time yet.

- Don't leave me, Daddy.
- I love you, little darling.

Daddy!

I love you, darling.

Daddy.

Daddy!

Daddy!

Meg? Meg?

Meg? Meg?

Daddy?

No, Meg. It's Ollie.

Ollie.

I thought you were my dad.

I was just talking to him.

I had a feeling
that something like that was going on.

Hi, Harm.

Hi, Meg.

How was lunch?