Original subtitles

Previously on Alcatraz...

The 63s.

The worst criminals this country has ever known

are coming back.

Grandfather wasn't a guard, he was an inmate.

[Grunts, screams]

(Rebecca) That's him.

He killed my partner. Police!

(Rebecca) So we have to find these 63s.

We need to find who took them.

[Police siren wails] Where have you been

for the past 50 years?

I don't know.

May I help you, sir?

Good morning, Amanda.

I'd like to pay a visit to my safety deposit box.

Absolutely.

Follow me, please.

Mmm. We have to hurry.

Those are turned off, hmm?

You think I want my boss seeing us?

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mmm. [Panting]

[Gasps]

[Muffled cries]

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

[Series of clinks, then jingles on the floor]

Oh, hello there.

What's your story?

[Loud clack]

[Jingling]

[Gun clacks]

Wait! Wait!

[Muted cry]

Please.

Don't. I have a family.

Please don't!

[Muffled gunshot]

Pay attention, kid,

'cause I'm only going over this once.

Oh, I'm at full attention, Mr. Sweeney.

I'm totally focused on the task at hand.

Prison laundry... be it an

army, warden, guard or inmate...

comes to us through those chutes over there.

Now, you'll find the pockets of dirty trousers

and the folds of soiled seats

serve as a conveyance to incoming contraband,

which is delivered to inmates

in their weekly pickup.

Batter up, kid.

I'm a little short on currency at the moment.

Any chance I could pony up next week?

Yeah, it's no problem, Pinkner.

Course next week, price triples.

Some business you're running, Sweeney.

Whatever happened to catering to the customer?

You really going to charge him triple?

Damn right.

And triple the week after that.

Look, this may look simple to you.

But I take the risks... So I call the shots.

Moment I let some con float on credit,

and not gouge him for the privilege

of doing business...

He sees me as weak.

Starts thinking that maybe he can call the shots.

So you have to be tough.

No emotion, kid.

It's how you gotta be.

You can't care about anyone or anything.

Moment they see a soft spot,

they got you by the short hairs.

[Buzz] [Door clacks open]

You want to be my protege,

it's lesson number one.

Well, I've learned it, Mr. Sweeney.

Committed it to memory.

Fake a bellyache, Sweeney.

Your cell's being tossed.

Tiller?

[Clink]

Where is it?

[Rattle]

Where is it!

I need to talk to Mr. Tiller.

Ni hao, Rebecca.

Good morning, Lilly. How are you? Good.

How are you? Good, thanks.

Uh, two of everything.

And double down on the...

[Lists food items in chinese]

Okay.

Nothing says breakfast like stuffed Fluffy buns.

Enjoy.

So, I have to ask...

how does someone who's got two PhDs

end up with a comic book store?

If I tell you, can we go someplace with syrup?

[Laughs]

I got the degrees to appease my parents,

but I got blacklisted

for publishing a major breakthrough

in crime-prevention theory

for the National Journal of Criminology.

And that's frowned upon by the academic community?

It is if your urban statistical model's

based on Gotham City.

Batman? Thanks. I know that one.

So you get yourself humiliated

rather than quit and face your parents?

Pretty close to adorable.

It's a complicated relationship. [Cell phone rings]

Madsen.

We're on our way.

Someone hit the safety deposit boxes

at Colonial Liberty.

Did they hit the vault too?

No, just the boxes. Why?

Holy cow. Cal Sweeney.

Okay, who's Cal Sweeney?

(Soto) A-Z-2-1-1-2.

Hit over 20 banks in the late '50s.

He'd rob the safety deposit boxes.

If everything went smooth, he wouldn't hurt a fly.

Bank manager must have surprised him.

Have any idea why he clips the boxes

and he doesn't take the tons of cash

sitting three feet away from him?

In the '50s, everybody kept their valuables

in safety deposit boxes.

Cash and bonds are FDIC insured...

boxes aren't.

So it's just destruction of property.

Not a federal crime. No FBI.

It's actually pretty smart.

Six boxes were hit,

but there was no attempt to access the vault.

What kind of weapon does this?

A captive bolt pistol.

It's used to kill cattle in slaughterhouses.

Surveillance cameras are turned off.

(Rebecca) So he had help.

I met him at a grocery store.

We had the same frozen dinner in our carts,

and he started talking to me...

About all kinds of things.

Then he just smiled.

"You know, when your eyes look at someone else's...

To hell with the chicken Alfredo."

He said that.

Then he asked if I would go to dinner with him,

right there in the freezer aisle.

Did you ever go to his house?

We always went to my place.

His house was having work done.

He have a car? Yeah.

But it was in the shop.

That's not the truth, is it?

He gave me this.

Said it was his grandmother's.

Told me a whole story.

Thank you.

He conned her.

You said Cal hit a bank

two days ago. According to the newspaper.

So he spent two days pawning what he stole.

We should send a list of all the stolen items

to every pawnshop and broker in the area.

We can catch him when he tries to cash them in.

Banks don't keep track of what people keep

in their safety deposit boxes.

Yeah, but the owners will know.

[Doorbell rings]

Yes.

Mr. Bailey... Peter Carr,

Colonial Liberty Bank.

I have some unfortunate news.

Your safety deposit box was robbed this morning.

Robbed?

If I could get a list of the stolen items,

we can get started on the insurance claim.

Come on in.

(Hauser) On march 21, 1963,

Alcatraz officially closed.

[Thunder rumbling]

All the prisoners were transferred off the island.

Only that's not what happened.

Not at all.

[Cell door clattering closed]

Sync and corrections by APOLLO www.addic7ed.com

in addition to your will

and the deed to your house,

were there any personal items?

Yes, a sapphire necklace.

And can you describe it?

It was a platinum necklace that held a sapphire.

And who did the necklace belong to?

My wife. I gave it to her

for our 25th wedding anniversary.

The blue sapphire... did it have any...

Special significance?

It was her birthstone.

Why?

Where did you two meet?

I'm sorry?

I'm asking...

Where you met your wife.

Why do you need to know that for our insurance forms?

I don't.

I need to know for me.

I'm calling the bank.

[Screams]

What I want is the story...

The story that makes this necklace so important to you.

[Groans]

And that story begins...

With where you met your wife.

I like it nice and close, silver.

I see you got my invitation.

You tossed my cell.

Some people leave flowers.

Others, a mint on a pillow.

I toss cells.

Occupational hazard.

Where is it? Where is what?

You stole something from my cell...

small metal box. I'd like it back.

No idea what you're talking about.

So why am I here?

I want a piece of your operation.

The Warden tends to look the other way

when it comes to the smaller vices

and minor infractions.

If it were up to me,

I'd run this place on the up and up.

But it ain't.

So in the meantime, you're getting squeezed.

You know what stops these animals

from killing each other?

Enlighten me.

The smaller vices.

So until I get my box back...

Consider me closed for business.

Now you're going to see what happens

when 300 nosebleeds don't get their extra salt

and cigarettes. [Scrapes]

You know the secret to a good, hot shave?

You have to draw the razor with the grain of the whiskers,

so everything ends up nice and smooth.

When you go against the grain,

that's when you get nicked.

Take him back to his cell.

You ever see a dog lay down and show it's belly

to another dog?

That's that dog's way of saying

that the bigger dog is in charge.

I let Tiller get away with taking my box.

He can rip my belly open, invite the whole pack

to chew on it until there's nothing left.

What if you could talk to Tiller

someplace private? Someplace a deal

wouldn't cost a loss of face?

Should I invite him for tea?

[Squeak]

There's a party tomorrow night for Tiller.

At the Warden's house, no less.

If you could pull Steward's duty.

Steward's duty is top-shelf employment.

Red... the guy who usually works with me...

I'm sure that...

He would fake an ailment...

For a carton of smokes.

Now...

Now you're showing me something, kid.

All right, last house.

Hmm.

What?

Nothing. It's just...

Wills, deeds, birth certificates

most of it's just legal stuff.

Looks like safety deposit boxes

aren't for the gold-bars- and-uncut-diamonds crowd

anymore.

Hi!

Can I help you? Yes.

Does a Mr. William Bailey still live here?

That's my husband.

Is everything all right?

His safety deposit box was robbed.

We just need to ask him a few questions.

Okay.

Will!

Will, honey?

Will!

[Screams] Will!

No!

[Screams] No!

No!

Wine glass at the top.

Champagne and Sherry

to form a small triangle.

You got it?

Yeah, let's just say I do.

You, uh, remember your role

in our upcoming farce?

I say I do.

And I do.

Here comes king screw himself.

We've traversed the globe

for unsurpassed finery, haven't we, gents?

Let's give E.B. A birthday he'll never forget.

[Footfall]

[Vivaldi's the four seasons plays]

Sterling flatware from Spain,

Bone China from England, hand-woven linens from...

Who's that?

That's Tiller's gimp sister.

She lives with him.

Struts her out once a year, on his birthday.

Geri, you're a portrait of loveliness.

I wanted to wear my birthday suit,

in honor of Elijah.

But he's such a prude. Nice spread, Warden.

No expense too great for my finest big day.

Shall we?

(Warden James) Dr. Beauregard

is this the first you're meeting Dr. Singupta?

The psychologist whose praises you have sung and spoken?

Is this the vision I see before me?

So what's your specialty, Mrs. "Sin-gup-ee"?

Dr. Singupta.

In addition to my M.D.,

I have a post-doc in Clinical Psychology.

An M.D. too... well, well.

My nose might come to bleeding in such rarefied air.

(Tiller) You'll have your work cut out for you here.

Most of these animals are just wired bad.

Instinct and impulse...

they're as far from inner feelings

as we are from the moon.

Inner feelings are of a secondary importance to me.

When it comes to deviant behavior,

the "wiring," as you so aptly put it,

lies in their memories...

specifically, traumatic memories

that give rise to these instincts and impulses.

If I can remove the traumatic memories

and leave a more soothing one in its place,

we might be able to correct or adjust their behavior...

in essence, "rewire" them.

Removing memories?

Sounds like magic to me.

As did the discovery of fire to the caveman, no doubt.

(Warden James) The Royal College Journal of Medicine

published Dr. Singupta's findings,

which showed great promise in rats.

Oh, I work with rats myself.

Though usually I just sew 'em up,

give them a piece of cheese,

and send them back to their cells.

[Laughter]

You hear that?

Now they want to take our memories too.

[Rattling]

[Slam]

(Rebecca) Cal Sweeney's box.

That's all he's got?

Looks like it was in a fire.

What does it say about you if the sum total of your life

is an empty tin box?

This better be worth the interruption.

(Rebecca) We ran the owners of the safety deposit boxes

from Sweeney's first robbery two days ago.

This is Leonard Shore.

He was found dead at his home later that same day.

He took one of those bolt pistol things through the forehead

just like Mr. Bailey.

Cops chalked it up to a home invasion.

It looks like he's picking one customer from each robbery

and paying them a visit.

He do this in the past? Go after the box owners?

No. He just sold everything and moved on to the next bank.

He's already got the items. What's he looking for?

Any connection between the victims?

No, and we sent a list of the stolen items

to every pawnshop in the country.

No hits.

Okay. So how do we track him?

The tellers.

It's the one thing that's stayed consistent.

Doc, can you run the security footage

from both banks?

Run them side by side?

(Rebecca) Okay.

Both 45 to 50,

no wedding rings,

average looks...

he picked them out specifically.

He courted them.

Walk Sweeney out.

There... same vases, same flowers.

Zoom in,

see if we can find out where they're from.

Mae's Flowers.

[Doorbell rings]

Can I help you?

Uh, yes.

I'm detective Madsen.

I wanted to ask you a few questions.

Sure, no problem.

Have you seen this man?

Uh, yeah.

Oh, yeah, always sending flowers

out to women... different women.

Could you print out his order history?

Uh, sure. Okay.

You know, we give special discount to SFPD.

15%. [Printer beeps]

There you go.

20% for you.

Looks like he sent the same arrangement

to a third teller, Melissa Murphy,

Heritage Bay National Bank.

That could be Cal's next target.

[Laughs] Oh, that's so beautiful.

What was the sapphire for, again?

What... what are you doing?

[Beep] [Grunts]

(Female) What's going on?

(Male) The alarm was tripped, apparently.

(Female) Why can't we leave the bank?

(Guard) Sorry, folks. Just sit tight.

Honey, come on. Let's wait over here.

I'm sorry sir, but we need everyone

to stay inside.

[Groans]

[Grunts] Ah!

Oh!

[Police siren wails]

[Gun cocks]

[Screaming]

Everybody get down!

Call for backup!

Get down! Move.

Move! Move! Move!

Oh, this doesn't look good.

[Sweeney yelling indistinctly]

Damn it.

It's Madsen.

Yeah, we've got a big problem.

[Laughter]

[Vivaldi's the four seasons plays on stereo]

[Clinks wine glass]

I believe short words

best mark an occasion,

lest we give in to temptation

that paints our fellow man with brushstrokes more grandiose

than the canvas of the evening may warrant.

In this case, however,

I believe such praise is surely entitled.

To E.B.

Right.

[Paper rustling]

"Beneath the rule of men entirely great,

the pen is mightier than the sword."

And though I'm certain most of us

would take great exception to such a lofty ideal,

bearing witness to the reality behind these walls,

I have always believed the vessel in which a man

releases his thoughts

is apt to carry influence over them.

Thank you. I'll keep that in mind.

Ah! You idiot!

So sorry, sir.

We all make mistakes, son.

Get your damn hands off me.

Elijah! E.B.

Sorry. Fine.

I've got it. Excuse me.

Spill away, young man.

Only as long as you're willing to pat me dry.

[Laughter]

[Door shuts]

You here to help with my zipper?

20%...

I get my box back. 50.

30.

50.

And you should be overjoyed I'm letting you keep

anything at all.

You can always crown another rat to take over your operation.

50%.

Now give me my box.

I told you, I don't have it.

[Grunts]

[Gurgling] Where is it?

[Gasps] I don't have it.

[Gurgling] Give me my box.

Uhh!

Aah!

[Muffled screaming]

Aah!

[Grunts]

Gahh!

You stay here until the party's over.

Someone will come and take you back to your cell.

Assuming you don't bleed out in the night...

[Grunting] Tomorrow you go straight to the hole.

30 days.

Double if you open your mouth.

(All) ♪ for he's a jolly good fellow ♪

[Door shuts] ♪ for he's a jolly good fellow ♪

♪ for he's a jolly good fellow... ♪

[Sirens]

Okay, Sweeney's inside.

There's about 20 to 30 hostages.

PD says he hasn't made any demands yet.

Which means he just wants out.

And we are going to help him. What?

I'm going to join that jurisdictional pissing contest

over there, which'll buy you some time...

To get inside the bank.

Got it. Good.

(Male) Do we need to go through this every time?

I'm putting my snipers on the roof. No, commander, you're not.

Great, another fan to tell us how to run things.

Chief, with all due respect,

believe me when I tell you

I have a great deal more experience in this matter

than you do.

All right, so how do I get in that bank?

What? You agreed without a plan?

Uh, after the Big Quake in 1906,

a lot of buildings went up super fast,

almost on top of each other.

My comic book shop's

in an old bank building like this one.

And it shares a central air-conditioning unit

with the buildings on either side.

Okay, so you're saying the vent

from the building next door

will pass into the bank?

Normally, you'd trigger an alarm,

but the police will still cover the exits.

So unless Cal's dug himself

some sort of Hamburglar escape tunnel,

you're not going to be able to sneak back out.

Doc, I just need you to get me in.

Getting out's my job.

Wait, aren't you going to need those?

If I go in Carrying, he'll kill me.

Get out of my way.

Hey! Hey! Wake up!

[Panting]

You listen very carefully,

all right?

You're going to help me get out of here...

Or everybody dies.

[Grunts]

Of course.

A back exit? Secret tunnels?

[Whimpering] Something!

They'll have all the exits covered.

It's a shame.

It's such a pretty necklace.

[Grunts] [Crash]

Nobody move!

Whoever's in there,

you better put your hands up.

I'm going to start shooting hostages.

Who are you?

Rebecca Madsen. I'm a detective

with the San Francisco Police Department.

I'm unarmed.

Here to negotiate?

Nope. I'm here to break you out.

[Indistinct police radio transmission]

[Sirens]

Now why would a man in the middle of a robbery

trust some woman with a badge?

Because I know who you are, Cal.

Let's just say I have an investment

in getting you out.

Yeah, and how the hell are you going to do that, huh?

You're out of your mind? What, you got a better idea?

'Cause any minute now the phone's going to ring

with a hostage negotiator telling you everything

you want to hear.

They're going to promise you the moon

so they can buy some time before they take the bank

and blow your head off.

[Phone rings]

So what's it gonna be? [Phone continues ringing]

The guy only hits safety deposit boxes.

Local police have jurisdiction.

A jurisdiction that ended

the moment he took hostages. I've got M3 teams

ready to go, hard cover on the roof...

you have no grounds for a tactical response,

and you know damn well know it! [Gunshots]

Shots fired, shots fired.

You hear those gunshots, agent?

Those are our grounds.

Take the bank.

Tactical team, you are a go.

Move up!

[Overlapping shouts]

[Shouting]

[Coughing]

Move, move.

[Overlapping shouts]

All right, on your feet. Let's go.

[Overlapping shouts]

[Engine starts]

[Open, shuts car door]

Hey, move this bus. Out of my way now.

[Horn honks]

Get in! Mr. Hauser, sir.

[Tires squeal]

Bank is secure.

Target is missing.

What? Well, he's not in the bank

and he's not with the hostages.

Where'd that other FBI guy go?

Okay, you're too close now.

Stay further back, Soto.

Back! You don't have to yell.

It's the first time I've ever trailed someone,

so a little support wouldn't be, you know,

totally unappreciated.

It's "tailed."

Whoo! Not bad, Bonnie.

We make quite the pair, you and I.

(Rebecca) Yeah, well I'm afraid this is where we part ways.

(Sweeney) Excuse me?

Oh, I'm going to let you go on your merry little way.

You know, alone.

Oh, no, sweetie. You're not going anywhere.

I just broke you out of there.

Yeah, and now you're my hostage.

[Thud]

Who gave you a license?

Last time I was behind a wheel,

I was... you were 11.

Marvelous.

I must say he's been following us for a while.

That somebody you know?

No.

Lose 'em.

Now!

[Turns on siren]

Okay, let her go. Let her go.

What? He must have spotted us.

It's her play. We follow her lead.

[Tires screech]

Okay, let her go, Soto.

Are you sure? Absol...

are you 100% sure? Watch the road!

[Tires screech, car horn blares]

Keep driving.

[Siren]

[Overlapping chatter]

[Grunts]

Hey.

How you feeling, Mr. Sweeney?

They're coming for me soon.

I've done three and ten.

I ain't ever done 30.

But I'm sure it was worth it.

Worth what?

Well, if I lost my whole family

and everything I ever had

when I was only ten, in a fire...

I'd sure want to hang on to the one single thing

that didn't burn...

Even if it was just an empty tin box.

Now don't get me wrong.

Plenty of things in my childhood

that I'd like to forget.

But I can't imagine not having anything.

[Laughs] Not a single picture

of a family outing or...

Christmas morning.

Not a baby book or birthday card

or a single lock of hair.

Nothing to put in your little tin box.

Why?

You broke the rule, Cal.

You showed your belly.

To you.

You set me up.

Heck of a protege, don't you think?

30 days...

I'll be running things so good...

No one'll ever remember you were even here.

[Smash]

[Footfall]

Open 122.

So what did you take? What?

From the bank? What was worth all the trouble?

What's in it?

I have no idea.

So open it.

No. I'm not supposed to.

What do you mean, you're not supposed to?

I don't... I don't know.

It's just... you know what?

You stop talking. Okay, I'll stop talking.

Turn in here and pull over.

Why? I'm going to let you out.

[Car revs, tires screech]

Hey, hey, hey! I said pull over.

No. No?

You know what they didn't have in the 1950s?

Pull over now! Seat belt laws.

[Tires screech, glass shatters]

[Clinking]

Four down and...

A hell of a lot more to go.

So, you good?

Yeah, you?

Hauser yelled at me about my driving.

Well, thanks for having my back.

Always.

Uh, what'd the bank say?

Sweeney only opened one box.

This is what was inside.

Whoa, that's pretty cool.

[Footfall]

I believe you have something that doesn't belong to you.

I don't know what you're talking about.

We can do this the easy way or the hard way.

Only if you tell me what it's for.

Fine.

Some other day.

Well, that didn't work.

Guess he trusts the scientists more than us.

We have another one.

Have the one we got from Sylvain?

Yes, sir.

Perhaps molecular analysis can provide some real insight...

[Beeping]

As to how the prisoners jumped.

So, what do we know? Amalgamate.

Trace colloidals, silver content, cold forged.

The bitting codes are unique to both keys.

And the shafts look to be laser-cut.

Laser?

But laser-cutting didn't exist when the prison was open.

Right.

I want thermal imaging of all the car doors

and tunnels on the island.

Need to find what the hell these things open.

I mean, whatever Cal told you,

it's a lie. A lie can't be trusted.

Where are you taking me?

To meet a friend.

Your recent palace coup has caught the eye

of a certain subterranean visitant...

Who desires to have a parley.

[Hinges squeak]

Your future just got a heck of a lot brighter, kid.

Don't be shy.

Sync and corrections by APOLLO www.addic7ed.com