Original subtitles

- Are you listening to yourself? - Are you listening to me?

- Your neighbor? - Yes!

Is a terrorist?

He's been blowing up buildings?

There's something going on over there. Something is being planned.

Something's being planned? Yeah, and in his spare time...

hey pays the mortgage and takes his kid to camp.

- That house is not normal. - That house is normal!

Remember when we were over there the other night?

- Him discussing politics? - Yeah, we disagree about politics.

And Washington? And Leah?

- Do you remember this? - Oh, my--

The guy is testing me.

He wants to see if I'm an enemy or an ally.

You are the one who brought up Leah.

Is that what this is about?

No, it's not about Leah!

You know, this class...

that you slave over...

to carry on Leah's work, to have something in her memory?

You know, plots and conspiracies...

and red flags going up.

Yeah, this is Leah's world now.

I'm--

I can't.

Listen, I know...

that he's changed his name--

- Stop it, for me. - He lived in St Louis...

when the bombs were goin' off.

He's working on this building that he doesn't want me to see.

I don't think I can stay here tonight.

I'm not staying.

Never did like that picture.

You know me, Michael?

You think you know me?

Yeah, you know me better than I know myself, don't you?

Kansas City Star. I saw you.

You wanna tell me something I don't know?

- I know what I read. - You know a 16-year-old kid.

You don't know me.

You know a kid at 16.

Damn you! You've been a guest in my house!

You're a guest in mine, Fenimore.

Bill, Will, William-- What do I call you?

Who the hell do you think you are judging me? What gives you the right?

You ever worked on a farm?

Make your living, support your family?

The government stole my father's water-- a stream running through our land.

Said they were appropriating it for other uses.

We couldn't grow crops, we couldn't raise cattle.

We had loans we couldn't pay.

My father woke up one mornin'...

and he realized he was worth more dead than alive.

His skin and bones...

were worth more in insurance money...

than as a damn farmer.

I found his tractor...

at the bottom ot the bluffs behind our house.

He made it look like an accident.

I found his body. And the note?

He wrote it to me.

Insurance money paid off what Mom could...

but it wasn't enough.

Neighbors-- Neighbors took our land at auction.

All because some bureaucrat stuck a pin in a map...

in some creek in the middle of Kansas, said we couldn't use our own water.

Doesn't give you the right to build a bomb.

I was sixteen. Sixteen!

You ever do anything wrong when you were 16?

You ever crash your car?

You ever, uh, steal anything? You ever screw the wrong girl?

You gonna tell your kid everything you did when you were 16?

The lies you told? The drugs you took?

I've been judged for this!

I got sent away for it, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

The best thing.

Who's Oliver?

He was my best friend growin' up.

He died when we were both 25.

I did it to honor him...

to carry on his name.

And to hide.

Yeah, to hide.

I didn't want any son I had knowing what I did.

I didn't want my kids to be burdened...

with people looking through old newspapers.

I'm not proud of this.

This isn't pride.

I wish it never happened.

You know, I wish to God...

that my family could have...

my father's good name.

You know, you have a right to know who lives next door...

who talks to your kid, who considers himself your friend.

But you also have the right--

If you have a problem with me, if you have issues with me...

you could have the decency to walk across the street...

and tell me to my tace.

Hi, this is Michael. Leave a message.

It's me. Listen.

I think you're right. I saw Oliver...

at the mall in the garage.

He switched cars with somebody, and I tollowed him...

to this warehouse delivery place.

They were unloading these long, metal boxes.

I want to talk to you. I'm coming over, okay?

I knew it was you.

What are you doing here?

Just shopping. What are you doing here?

Shopping.

Great.

Yeah.

They say a man was shot several times while driving along 19th street.

The car struck several other vehicles before slamming into a tree.

The victim was pronounced dead at the scene.

Elsewhere, a single-car accident near Reston is tying up...

evening traffic on westbound Route 7 at this hour.

Details are sketchy at this point. What we can tell you...

from our overhead shot is that the accident took place...

near the Pine Glenn Outlet Center.

No other vehicles appear to be involved in what police say...

is a fatal crash.

We'll have more information for you when it becomes available.

The driver of the car, described as a woman in her mid-20s...

has been pronounced dead at the scene.

Police say it appears she lost control of the light blue 1989 Mustang...

and crashed through a guardrail along the ravine.

Investigators believe she was killed upon impact--

Sir, you can't go down there.

Sir, you can't come down here.

- You can't go down there. - Where is she?

- She's gone sir. Been taken away. - Where?

- She's gone. - Where?

I'm sorry.

Hey, General, how you holding up?

You wouldn't believe it! It's so cool.

We went swimming and climbing, and one night there was a lightning storm.

- We had to stay in a motel! - You did?

I learned how to make campfires, and there's lots of knives.

- Me and Brady can tell animal tracks. - That's terrific.

I've gotta go. Troop Master's calling us.

- We're doing a hike! - Okay. Grant?

I'll see you in a couple of days. I love you.

- I gotta go! - Grant?

It's better to tell him when he gets back.

Thanks for coming to get me.

If there's anything you need...

we're here.

No, I won't. I'll be fine.

Don't let yourself-- I mean, sometimes it's better not to be alone...

when you don't have to be.

She was a good person.

Kind, kind girl.

You know, if I--

If I haven't been myself these past few weeks--

I'm sorry, for everything.

She liked you...

and your family very much.

We're here for you. We really are.

- Hello? - Michael, it's Whit.

Haven't heard back from you, man.

My girlfriend, Brooke, was killed Friday.

- Oh, God. No. - Yeah.

Can I talk to you later?

Yeah, sure, whenever. I'm here at the office.

Thanks.

- Agent Carver. - Whit?

What did you mean, you haven't heard back from me?

The message I left on Friday. I understand now.

- It's all right. - What message?

Well, the one about speaking to your class.

I thought with some ground rules, we could set some things straight.

Wait, wait, wait. You called me Friday?

- You left a message? - Yeah, at the house.

When did you call?

I don't know. Around 4:00 or 5:00, maybe, on Friday.

I didn't have any messages.

For Christ's sakes, you just found out about Brooke.

No, I didn't have any messages. I'll call you back.

Whit, listen to me.

I know you can't do anything for me or get me information...

but I can give you information.

The other day when I was talking about somebody trying to hide their history?

I was talking about my neighbor. Oliver Lang-- that's his name.

He used to be--

It used to be William Fenimore. Run it through your system, see what you got.

- Oliver Lang. You writing this down? - All right, slow down.

This guy has a history, damn it! Will you run the name?

- Wait. What's he done? - If I'm right...

there are other people who called my house that day, not just you.

Find out. You can do that. Please.

- I'll call you when I get back. - Where the hell are you going?

To get you proof. Run the name, Whit.

Was it hard to find me?

You've moved several times.

Your wife said that-- Your ex-wife said--

People know whose father I am.

Mister, I've been through all this before.

The government, the police...

and writers.

People wanted to believe it was political...

some conspiracy, some group.

Happy and I did too.

Dean was not a strong boy.

He was impressionable...

believed what friends around him said.

Well, why couldn't he be involved...

with people who could set him up...

talk him into even this?

The FBI, the police, found nothing.

It was him alone. They decided this.

Sixty-three dead...

over taxes.

Dean alone.

You don't believe that, do you?

I've never believed that.

Have you heard the name Oliver Lang or William Fenimore?

I've heard too many names.

Your son, Dean, was an electrician.

Maybe he was contracted for...

or he worked on a project--

All of this was investigated, mister!

His neighbors, his customers...

kids he grew up with months ago.

Dr. Scobee, I'm sorry for bringing this all back.

It never goes away.

I had to come here. You've got to understand.

I think I know a man who knew your son.

He's 41, a structural engineer.

He's got a wife, three kids. He has this--

May I ask what makes you so sure...

that this man of yours had anything to do with what happened here?

For the same reason you're sure your son didn't do it alone!

I know my son was not alone, because 10 children died that day!

The day care center in the Roosevelt, he had to know it was there.

My son would never have done anything to harm children.

Your son didn't have any children.

No!

But he did things for them.

He sponsored boys from city shelters.

Discoverer Troops. He coached boys' football when he had time.

Wait. Discoverer Troops?

They're like Boy Scouts, but for young children.

He was a grown-up chaperone.

He'd take them camping, go to their meetings.

Teach them. There he is.

It must have been on some weekend adventure.

Dean was best with children.

Airport.

Faraday, Grant Faraday. I'll be there in a tew hours.

Don't let him go anywhere. I'm coming. Tell him I'm coming.

I'm here to pick up my son. I called earlier this afternoon.

- My son ! - What was that troop, sir?

Troop? I don't know what troop.

He's from Reston. Grant Faraday.

- Where's my son? - Faraday.

He was taken home this atternoon, sir.

- No. - His father called.

No, no, wait. I'm his father. I called.

But you called twice, sir.

You said that there had been an accident at home?

- A car accident? - No!

You asked to speak with his troop master, sir.

I'm his goddamn father! That wasn't me.

Here it is, sir. He was driven home.

- By who? - His troop master, sir.

- He and another boy. - What other boy?

Lang, Brady Lang.

The troop master left with both of them.

You're doing it again. I thought I told you to come to me...

- if there's something you wanna know. - Where's my son?

He's with mine. They're safe. Can I get you something?

- I saved his life! - Some punch? What's that?

- Your son, I saved his life! - Yes, yes.

And that's why you're still here with us.

- And Brooke? - Brooke got in the way.

We're on a schedule. It's nothing personal.

What the hell have you done with my son?

If you want to be his father, you'll walk to your house...

sleep in your bed, teach your classes and live your life.

What are you telling me? How many people are you gonna kill?

Well, if I see any strange cars on my street...

if you feel compelled to talk to anyone-- a federal agent, perhaps--

then I imagine we're just gonna kill one.

He's nine years old.

When will he be ten?

He's a good kid.

A strong kid.

Reminds me of a boy I grew up with. Maybe you've heard of him.

Oliver Lang?

I found him in the woods one day.

I would hate for Grant to see the same for you.

- You sick fuck! - You're the sick fuck!

I promise you, Michael.

If you stay a good neighbor, and you are a good a neighbor...

you'll have him back.

But if you don't calm down, I don't know that I can guarantee his safety.

- This will all be over in a tew days. - When?

- You're not in any danger. - When? Tell me.

Please.

Because of you, my son is alive.

I would like very much to return the favor.

Now...

we're having a party.

You're more than welcome to stay.

You're a hard man to find.

What are you, uh--

Your assistant told me you've been taking long walks between classes.

Yeah, I can't talk to you now.

No? Can you talk to me ever?

You look like shit. What's going on?

- I'm here about Oliver Lang. - I gotta get to my class.

Well, how about you teach me something?

Oliver Lang, formerly William Fenimore.

We gave him a good look atter the St. Louis thing.

Everybody who ever used a bomb got a good look.

His name change was legal.

We ran his social security number through the National Crime Center.

Not a mark on his record ever since. Him and everyone he knew came up clean.

That's what you found out about, huh?

Yeah, that Wichita shit back when he was 16 got you thinking, huh?

Do you have something new on him or do you just not like him...

in your neighborhood?

'Cause if this is all you got, then you need to stop teaching that class...

'cause it's gettin' inside your head.

You tell me you got something to go on and I'll go...

but I'm not gonna walk into another Copper Creek, and neither should you.

I got nothing. I'm sorry.

All right. Look.

I ran those phone records, like you asked.

Could've meant my job, but I did it.

Two telephone calls that Friday-- one from me...

and another from a pay phone out Route 180, Pine Glenn Outlets.

Pine Glenn?

A telephone call from your neighbor. Nothing.

Talk to me, Michael.

What's going on?

Talk to me.

Give up the goddamn class.

I'd like to rent a car tomorrow morning.

How early could I pick that up?

Michael Faraday.

Oliver Lang, please.

Mr. Lang is out of the office. Would you like to leave a message?

I need to reach him. This is a business emergency.

Mr. Lang isn't expected in this morning.

- I'll call back. Thanks. - Is there something else--

No.

Hey, neighbor, you all right? What you doin' on this side of town?

Had to know, didn't ya? Had to know.

Couldn't leave your neighbor alone.

Didn't you check up on me?

Didn't you?

Did you really think we'd leave anything to chance?

Fifty-one.

I've got your shadow. Go ahead. We're still on schedule.

- You gonna miss your son, Michael? - Please.

You've given me no choice!

You think I wanted this? I told you you were gonna get him back!

How am I gonna do that now? How am I gonna trust you now?

Where are you taking him? Where's the bomb?

I'm a messenger, Michael. I'm a messenger!

There's millions of us, waiting to take up arms...

ready to spread the word.

Millions of us!

The government's not who you're killing!

Yes, yes, they'll pay. They'll pay for their sins...

- You're killing children ! - their lies, their children.

- Children die! - This is war.

In a war, children die.

- You're with us! - No!

Liberty Two, status.

Status one, go.

That's what you stand for.

You tell them you stand for blowing up tamilies...

for orphan sons.

Your father really kill himself, you son of a bitch?

Or is that just one of your goddamn stories?

- Call it off! - It's for you, Michael.

- It's for all of us. - It's not for me. Call it off!

Are you happy in your godless, suburban life?

Call off the bomb!

Call off the fuckin' bomb!

They sent your wife to her death.

Surely you won't be sorry to see them go.

You're too late!

Let's get it done.

- Agent Carver. - Listen to me.

There's a bomb on its way to your offices. Get everybody out!

- What's going on? - It's in a white van.

A Liberty Delivery Van. Grant's in there.

They want the FBI this time!

Michael, you're breaking up!

Whit? Shit!

Come on !

Security, main gate.

Out of the way!

That's the van!

Stop it!

- Stop the van! - Sir, step out of the vehicle!

- There's a bomb in the van ! - Step out of the vehicle!

- It's got a goddamn bomb! - Michael, wait!

That's the van! There's a bomb in there!

- That van was authorized. - That's the van! Grant's inside!

It's the noon delivery.

Grant's in there! It's got a goddamn bomb!

Hold your fire!

- Don't shoot! - In the van!

Get everyone out of the building! There's a bomb in the van !

- Get him out of the building. - Check the goddamn van.

We gotta get everybody out of here. There's a bomb.

- It's in there. - Easy.

Wait! That's--

That's not the man.

- All right. - Grant!

Let him go.

I said, let him go!

- Back off! - The van's clean.

There's nothing in here.

Go ahead, Michael.

Michael, it's all clear.

The guy's authorized to be here.

We're all authorized to be here. Everyone except you.

All right? Come on.

It's all right.

Hey, guys!

Stand by.

Everyone except you.

Boom.

Right now, I'm sort of breathless.

I've just gotten here, and there are people lying--

It looks just like a war zone!

Officials at this point believe a bomb went off.

They're not sure which floor, how big.

Obviously, it was massive to create the kind of devastation--

Preliminary reports indicate the bombing was the work...

of this man, Michael Faraday of Reston, Virginia.

A professor of history at George Washington University--

Officials will not confirm reports that the bombing had anything to do...

with the death of Mr. Faraday's wife, who had been an FBI agent.

Students and colleagues both say...

that Farady's behavior was increasingly erratic in the weeks leading up--

He was really intense, you know? Knew all about these terrorists--

how they worked, what they wanted.

He was really into it. It was my favorite class.

We went to this field trip once. It was Copper Creek.

He practically broke down and started crying, something about his wife.

We all sort of knew about it, but he never really wanted to talk about it.

Faraday reportedly blamed the Bureau for its role in his wife's death...

almost three years ago.

Specifically, sources speculate his target...

may have been Agent Whit Carver, one of the 184 people to perish in the attack.

Carver was a partner of Faraday's wife at Copper Creek...

and Faraday may have held him responsible.

All I know is what he told me in his office one day after class.

I'll never forget that.

He said, "Sweetheart...

one day those men are going to pay.

One day those men are going to burn. "

Yet all of them described Faraday as solitary but friendly...

as a talented professor fascinated by the American underground...

and as a loving father to his ten-year-old son...

who is now in the care of relatives.

And so after exhausting hundreds of thousands of man-hours and leads...

federal investigators are finally ready to say...

that just as in the St. Louis IRS bombing nearly two years ago...

this spring's attack on the FBI...

the worst terrorist strike in our nation's history...

was the work of one man and one man alone.

Any news yet?

No. They'll let us know.

Someplace nice.

I hope.

Someplace safe.

Always.