Original subtitles

On march 21, 1963,

Alcatraz officially closed due to rising costs

and decrepit facilities.

All the prisoners were transferred off the island...

Only, that's not what happened.

Not at all.

What the hell?

What is it?

Ready your weapon.

What's happening?

Two guards... Always meet the transfer.

Maybe they forgot.

This is Alcatraz.

No one forgets.

Is anyone here?

Follow me.

Radio the station.

Tell them to send everyone.

302 men disappeared that night.

They were never seen or heard from again...

Until now.

They stayed in their cells 24 hours a day.

Susie?

Where the hell is she?

Hey, buddy, you can't sleep in here.

You got two minutes to get the hell outta here.

As I was saying, on March 21, 1963,

Alcatraz officially closed due to rising costs...

Ticket, sir?

Hope you had a nice time on the rock.

Inside "B" and "C" head count.

- 14, inside "C". - First tier.

15, inside "C" second tier.

14, inside "B" first tier.

Rack 'em!

Toes on the line.

25. Move, move, move, move!

Let's go!

Not so fast, 2024.

Shake it down.

It's clean, Mr. Tiller.

Clean, my ass.

That's not mine.

Take him away.

Today's visiting day.

Not for you.

Tiller.

Alcatraz Ep 1 - Pilot

Sync and corrected by dr.jackson for www.addic7ed.com

No!

Madsen! Come on!

Take my hand!

Come on!

Okay, all right.

Aah!

Madsen.

Madsen.

Detective Madsen.

You hear a word I've been saying?

Lieutenant, I respect you too much to say yes.

You've been flying solo for three months.

It's time to get you partnered up again.

Um, I just remembered that I have...

Sit.

Yes, sir.

Let's start with rivers.

Just coming off a stint in vice.

You know, I don't think rivers knows I'm a detective here.

He's always asking me to make him coffee.

How about Hollier?

Too slow.

- Fiveash. - Too fast.

- Kheel. - Too blond.

We'd look like the Hardy boys.

Look...We all took a loss that day.

But you gotta stop blaming yourself.

I don't.

I blame the guy that pushed him off the roof.

We've been through the mug shots.

We followed every lead.

It's time to move on.

Madsen, we got a homicide.

You're up.

Um...

You're right. Those are great choices.

Um...

I just...

Yeah, I know.

Give me the day, and I'll pick someone.

I promise.

Thank you, lieutenant.

Who murders a guy

who's already got one hip in the grave?

Victim's Elijah Bailey Tiller.

Folks called him E.B.

78. Neighbor says the door was open.

Rebecca,

the Vic... he was a fed.

All right, let's get all we can before we get tossed.

You're done here.

Excuse me?

The victim was a federal agent.

- We're taking over. - Says who?

Says me.

And you are?

Emerson Hauser.

Now, get out.

I don't leave a crime scene

unless my immediate superior orders me to.

Okay, run along and play now.

Thanks for being a dick about it.

Jimmy, do me a favor?

Run Emerson Hauser through the database.

I wanna know where he came from.

What are you gonna do?

Jack Sylvane.

Damn it.

Alcatraz.

Vic's name was E.B. Tiller.

Deputy warden?

Hmm. Diego Soto.

What's your story?

Come on, come on, that's not fair.

Doc, you really wanna do that? Shh, shh, shh!

Come on, come on, come on.

- There ya go. - Shut up.

Oh!

You're too worried about the double-ups, doc.

You just gotta shoot.

You have to double up.

Double-ups are key.

Yeah, the high score's a pipe dream

without the double-up.

Of course, I'm more partial to Pac-man,

but maybe that's 'cause I like to eat.

Diego Soto. Will you marry me?

Dr. Diego Soto?

I'm way smarter than I look.

Phds in criminal justice and civil war history.

Four books on Alcatraz?

I'd say you're way smarter than we all look.

I'm detective Rebecca Madsen.

I was hoping to borrow you for a case.

These two look familiar?

Yeah.

Warden James and his deputy Tiller?

James is long dead,

but Tiller, he's still alive.

You ever do any research

on an inmate named Jack Sylvane?

Sylvane?

That was one unlucky cat.

The guy was a World War II vet.

Got sent to the rock for robbing a grocery store.

How's that a federal crime?

That's the unlucky part. The store sold stamps.

Which makes it a post office.

And feeding your family becomes a federal offense.

Sent him to leavenworth.

Another prisoner got frisky in the shower.

Jack murders him.

Next stop, the rock.

So...Why all the interest in Jack Sylvane?

E.B. Tiller was killed last night.

Sylvane's prints showed up at the scene.

I'm sorry. That's just not possible.

Why not?

'Cause Jack Sylvane died over 30 years ago.

Okay, 2024, on your feet.

Let's go.

Attaboy.

That's it.

What did you say to my wife?

Oh, would you look at that?

I must have made a mistake.

It's red getting sprung today.

Not you.

You should really eat something.

Remember, this is Alcatraz.

Things can always get worse.

I need to use the locker room.

It's 8 bucks to enjoy the facilities as a guest.

Hey, you got some change comin'.

Hey.

Brought you your change and a fresh towel.

Becky!

Uncle Ray.

Hiya, sweetie.

Get ya something?

Jack on the rocks.

Jack on the rocks, huh?

I need your help with a homicide.

Goes back to Alcatraz. DB's Elijah Bailey Tiller.

So...Somebody finally nailed E.B.

I knew you'd know him. Any insights?

Ball breaker, this guy.

Of the worst variety.

Worked the rock for about ten years.

Deputy warden when I was a guard.

Got out before she shut down.

Ray Archer?

Dr. Soto. This is my Uncle Ray.

It's an honor, sir.

You know me?

Know you? I studied you.

I even named a character after you in my comic.

Ray Archer's your Uncle?

Sort of.

He raised me after my parents died.

My grandfather was a guard too.

Tommy Madsen. He and Ray were best friends.

It's where they met. You write about him?

Sure.

Get you a drink, son?

Club soda would be great.

Well, I found him back at my place.

Jack Sylvane's transfer order to San Quentin,

dated the day the Rock was closed in '63,

-and look who signed it. -Robert Kennedy.

And here's Jack's death certificate.

Okay.

So how's a dead man dropping fingerprints

- at a murder scene? - You think these are phonies?

Memory serves...Tiller joined up with the feds.

Federal officer gets a federal investigation.

This isn't your case, is it, Becky?

-No, but... - No, but nothing.

If it's not your case, stay out of it.

This is about Alcatraz. You worked...

Damn it, Rebecca.

Let it go.

For once in your life, just...walk away.

My folks...

Are really, really smart.

They teach at Stanford.

And they're always telling me what to do.

But...

Smart doesn't always make you happy.

So mostly, I just hear what they have to say...

And then I do the opposite.

You're the expert. What do you think happened?

I don't know.

But last time on the island,

I stumbled across a room that was full of files and boxes

and all sorts of stuff I wasn't supposed to see.

Pier 33, first boat out?

I'll bring the coffee.

So I spoke to the warden at San Quentin.

He confirms Sylvane's transfer and death in '76.

But you think he's alive and that he killed Tiller.

I don't know. It just doesn't make sense.

Sylvane was a thief, not a killer.

So if Jack's been around all this time,

why'd he wait so long to kill Tiller?

Where the hell's he been?

Where are we now?

The barracks.

The guards lived here with their families.

I can't imagine children living here.

They took the boat to school every day.

Way cooler than the bus.

Here's the room.

Still locked. Any ideas?

Department issue.

Flashlight.

Aren't you kind of young to be a detective?

Yeah. I get that a lot.

Bet you have a pretty cool origin story.

I was raised by a cop.

He'd bring his cases home, I'd read them before bed,

put post-its where I thought he should look.

I actually helped him solve a few cases.

Nice.

How come the inmate files

weren't transferred with the inmates?

Holy crap! You gotta come see this.

- This is... - Everything!

It's all their stuff.

SFPD! I'm armed.

What the hell is that?

This is a mistake.

She found us,

and she won't stop until she finds him.

You need her, Emerson.

Good. You're awake.

Detective Madsen...

Welcome to Alcatraz.

Mm...

My head.

Where are we?

Alcatraz.

- Looks good. - Yep.

They've done some redecorating.

Dr. Soto, I'm Hauser.

I read your books.

Um, did you...gas us?

We have strict protocols for intruders here.

I'm Lucy Banerjee.

You're quite resourceful, detective Madsen.

Lifting the photo from the crime scene

was not only bold but effective.

I'll need that back.

Emerson Hauser, you wanna tell me why

there's no record of you working for the FBI?

I run a special division in charge of criminals

who hold a particular allure for our government.

You know I don't believe a word of that, right?

So...

You built the bat cave...

Underneath Alcatraz.

But why would you do that?

Who's the old guy?

That is a computer-generated simulation

of what Jack Sylvane should look like today.

Should?

Lucy, run the green street surveillance.

Traffic cam caught this last night.

The older gentleman is our victim... E.B. Tiller,

and meet...

Jack Sylvane.

85 years young.

What? That's him?

Dr. Soto?

It's him.

Jack Sylvane disappeared from Alcatraz in 1963.

What does that mean, he escaped?

No one ever escaped Alcatraz.

Not to mention, the guy looks exactly the same,

which, if you're keeping score at home,

isn't possible.

So the San Quentin transfer was bogus.

As was the death certificate.

That still doesn't explain why he hasn't aged.

No, it doesn't.

Yes?

What's going on?

Local PD found a uniform at a crime scene.

Alcatraz issue.

Tell you what... I'll give you your prints back

if you let me come with you.

Why?

Because you gassed me, and now you owe me one.

Don't forget your lunchbox.

Yeah. Let's go, doc.

Coming!

Keep at it.

You'll owe me a transfusion.

You'd think a month in the hole

would teach you not to run your mouth.

Just saying... That's a lotta blood

from a guy who ain't sick.

Oh, I didn't know there was another doctor among us.

Fetch me a stethoscope for Dr. Sylvane here.

Do me a favor, Jack.

Keep your opinions, medical or otherwise,

to your godforsaken self.

So how many they take from you?

'Scuse me?

Vials of warm red blood?

What the hell do you care?

This place is nothing compared to downstairs.

Sent me out on visiting day.

I'm not talking about the hole.

I'm talking about below the hole.

I missed seeing my wife.

Trust me, you're better off.

Who the hell are you?

The same as you.

A number.

2002.

Yeah, well...

2002, I don't trust you.

And I ain't better off.

You listen to me.

Something terrible's gonna happen here.

2024. That's Jack's number.

Is this the man who attacked you?

Yeah. That's the son of a bitch.

Did you give him a locker key?

No. He never asked.

And is the video camera in the lobby working?

You kidding me?

Nothing's worked here since like 1975.

Here.

591 NPQN.

- You got a plate number. - It's the cab he took off in.

I'll have SFPD run it.

Turn around slow!

Do it now!

Show me your hands. I said show me your hands!

Are you Barclay Flynn?

I'm here for you.

- Aah! - Open the safe.

Okay. See?

Here. You can have anything you want.

Gimme the bag.

What bag?

The soft black bag.

Here, take it. Take it.

That's it? That's what you came for?

Oh, my God.

- I got a pulse. - This one's gone.

Officer down. I repeat... office down.

We need backup and a bus.

Stay with him.

I lost him.

His name is Barclay Flynn.

So what's this guy's connection to Sylvane?

Why assume there has to be one?

Silly me, looking for motive.

Even if Jack Sylvane didn't know Flynn,

it doesn't mean there weren't people who wanted him dead.

So...you're implying

that Sylvane's being used by someone,

that he was told to do this.

I don't think I was implying it.

I thought I was saying it.

What have you got?

Listen, Jack's wife remarried.

Only get this... Wasn't just some guy.

She married Jack's brother.

She's still alive?

Jack could go looking for her.

She's dead.

But his brother, he's still alive.

And if Jack knows that...

- Right. He could be next. - Whoa.

What about Eliot Ness?

Won't he be pissed if we leave without him?

I wanna find Jack. I wanna know what happened.

And he's never gonna tell us.

So...are you with me?

All the way.

Hi. Can I help you?

I'm Jack. Uh...

I'm looking for Alan Sylvane?

I'm Alan junior. I'm his son.

Uh...our dads were friends.

Come on in.

I'll get dad.

How are your flowers?

Um...

The roses, they grow, but...

The tulips are dying.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Last month I come and...

They say you are ill?

I'm good now.

I'm worried.

And...there is no one I can ask.

I'm sorry about that.

Your brother, uh, Alan, says hello.

He looking out for you?

I must, um...

Ask you for something.

- Yeah, anything. - Anything you need.

Oh, no.

Oh, please, you must let me go.

Please don't do this, Sonya.

- I have to. - Please don't do this.

Please...you must let me go.

- Don't do this. - Give me a divorce.

No. No. No. No.

Jackie, I can't do this.

-Jackie... - No!

Ah! That's it, Jack.

You're done.

Back to your cell, Jack!

That's my mom.

She died four years ago.

You have her eyes.

Hello, Alan.

How?

You look the same.

You got old.

They told me you died.

I threw dirt on your coffin.

Did she suffer?

She got cancer.

She suffered.

What happened to you, Jackie?

What happened was...

My brother married my wife.

And nothing that came after that...

Matters worth a damn.

Police!

- He took my dad. - Who did?

He said his name was Jack.

He say where he was going?

Said he wanted to find his wife.

It's okay, Sonya.

What you did.

In my heart...

There's only love for you.

Turn around, Jack.

Do I know you?

No, you don't.

Now, give me your gun,

and I won't blow your brains out.

Gimme the gun, Jack.

You don't want to hurt anyone else.

I hurt people.

I killed Tiller out of hate.

And the other guy... Flynn?

Why'd you kill him?

I only did what they told me.

What who told you?

Jack.

What who to you?

Where have you been?

What happened to you, Jack?

Shoot me.

No.

Jack, put down the gun!

Do it! Get on your knees!

This is where I belong!

Hey! Ho! Stop!

Tell me what happened to you, Jack.

Huh? What happened?

I'll take it from here.

You've done enough on your own.

You should have killed me.

One fingerprint, as promised.

So what happened to Jack?

He's in prison.

A spanking new identity and a nice long life sentence.

What about his brother?

Oh, he won't be a problem.

"He won't be a problem"?

I looked into this Flynn.

No ties to Jack Sylvane or Alcatraz.

Forget about Barclay Flynn.

We need to worry about our next victim.

"Our next victim"?

Jack Sylvane was just the beginning.

You knew this was gonna happen.

That's why you're here. You've been waiting for this.

A very, very long time.

Come with me.

Meet the '63s.

256 prisoners on the right.

46 guards on the left.

On March 21, 1963,

Alcatraz officially closed due to rising costs

and decrepit facilities.

All the prisoners were transferred

off the island.

Only, that's not what happened.

Not at all.

Radio the station.

Tell them to send everyone.

Kid.

I don't know where these men went

or what happened to them, but we need to do our job.

You understand me?

What's your name?

Hauser.

Emerson Hauser.

The worst criminals this country has ever known

are coming back.

They're coming back to our streets,

and no one's gonna be able to find them

because they don't exist.

2002.

My grandfather wasn't a guard. He was an inmate.

No!

That's him.

He killed my partner.

You knew this.

You wanted me in on this all along.

Oh, no. You've got that wrong.

You're too young. You're too impetuous.

If you want to stay and find him,

you'll have to prove to me every day

that you deserve to be here.

Is anyone else's head exploding right now?

I want in.

Your transfer orders.

It'll be difficult for you. No one can know.

Not Ray Archer, not your friends.

No one.

If they found out,

it would be very, very dangerous.

I'm gonna need a partner.

What, him?

Me?

Partner?

Yes! Of course yes!

Good.

Good.

Wouldn't want to have to kill you.

So we have to find these '63s.

More than that...

We need to find who took them.

I know you.

Well, if that's true,

it's news to me.

Welcome home, Jack.

You're not gonna give me a hard time, are you?

E.B. Tiller was my friend.

Take him to his cell.

Not to worry, Jack.

You won't be lonesome long.

Sync and corrected by dr.jackson for www.addic7ed.com