All language subtitles for Limitless.S01E04.HDTV.x264-LOL

My name is Brian Finch.

I was your average
28-year-old screwup

until I took a pill called NZT.

Suddenly I had access
to every brain cell.

Every time he takes it,
for the next 12 hours,

he basically becomes the
smartest person in the world.

And that's why the FBI hired me.

My name's Brian Finch, this is
Rebecca Harris, and we're with the FBI.

God, that sounds cool.

There's just one problem.

NZT will kill you,

unless you have this shot.

Now you can have as much NZT as
you want with no side effects.

Why would you help me?

Let's just say I need
somebody in your position.

If you describe to the FBI
or anyone about these shots...

I will let you die more painfully
and slowly than you can fathom.

So, Brian, you ready to
become somebody who matters?

Previously on Limitless...

I think my father was on NZT that night.

My name's Sands. I'm your new boss.

You belong to Mr. Morra now.

- Brian?
- Shauna!

There are things about my life
that I can't tell you about.

There is no one you
call family or friends

who I can't touch.

Brian?

Brian?

Had to, uh, break off...

things with Shauna.

She didn't take it very well.

I think I hurt her pretty bad.

Now, in a certain light, this
all looks pretty glamorous.

But when you're walking up
to a place like this on NZT,

everything looks different.

Almost everyone in
this line, me included,

has a hole to fill; a void.

I lost Shauna.

I can't be with anyone.

Am I proud of what I
do to fill that void?

No.

But I mean, come on...
I'm not St. Brian.

But honestly,

when NZT turns hooking
up into an algorithm,

the fun wears off...

and a meaningless one-night stand

is ultimately... meaningless.

Who knew?

Your mind starts to crave more.

So, I poked around.

I started e-mailing back and forth
with some very interesting people.

There's Nina, who has some
truly fascinating ideas

about why quantum particles change
form when someone observes them.

Then there's John.

He's working on a drug that alters
the way we all perceive time.

I mean, if you could make ten minutes

feel like an entire day,

what would you do with the extra hours?

Oh! And Arthur... he claims
he's one breakthrough away

from being able to
double a mouse's lifespan

by mutating its genes.

The limits of what we know...

That's something you can get lost in.

That's a way to take your
mind off a broken heart.

Good morning, everyone.

Take a seat, Finch.

I've decided...

to read you into your
first confidential case.

You will be given a temporary
top secret clearance.

Okay, just out of curiosity,
is that the highest

there is?

Am I higher than Boyle?

You will have access

to knowledge that,
if applied improperly,

would leave you vulnerable
to charges of treason.

You know, I need to know
that you understand this

and take it seriously, and
that T-shirt isn't helping.

Uh, well, I'll tell you this much.

I don't want to go to jail,

so... I'm good.

Look, I appreciate
the show of confidence.

All right, seriously. What's up?

Our intelligence branch is building
a case against a man named Mao Zhang.

He's a Chinese immigrant,

and he's a top engineer at
Miller-Bluett Technologies,

a very important defense contractor.

Zhang has access to specs for all
kinds of drones, cloaking tech.

This is sensitive technology.

A few months back, the CIA intercepted
a Chinese drone that was fitted

with Miller-Bluett's specs.

Our people zeroed in on Zhang,

but they haven't been able to find
hard evidence he's been selling intel.

They want our help.

Ooh. Okay, I got it.

Please don't spill coffee
on the top secret file.

Spy stuff. This is so
bad-ass, guys. All right.

Where do you want me to start?

Okay.

You want me to dig through his garbage?

It's an important part
of counterespionage.

We've been collecting Zhang's garbage
from the city for over a month now.

You won't be the first to go through it,

but you'll be the first
to go through it on NZT.

- You're not on litter duty, though?
- Surveillance.

Congratulations on your new clearance.

Once you get over the ick factor,

you can actually learn
a lot about someone

by what they throw away.

Zhang might be an amazing engineer,

but he's vain about going gray.

He's got a gleaming white smile.

And even though he's lactose intolerant,

he consumes organic
milk by the bucket-load.

Which is weird, right?

Every carton of milk Zhang threw away

has those scratches down the side.

They're combinations of numbers...

and when you put them together
in the right combination,

they add up to measurements.

Okay.

He's passing schematics
for some kind of drone.

You just drew this blueprint?

It's only partial, but if
we've been taking his garbage,

the people he's giving these specs to
haven't been getting new information.

Odds are they know he's being watched,

and they've changed
up the delivery method.

This isn't enough to make an arrest.

There's no evidence of sale or exchange.

But it's more than
enough to get a warrant

for a covert search of Zhang's place.

And we're basically positive he's a spy.

- This is huge, Brian.
- Finch.

Huh.

It's this guy Arthur
I've been talking to.

He thinks I helped him
create an immortal mouse.

Tithonus.

Isn't he beautiful?

The adjustments you gave
me... they were brilliant.

How long have you been
working with telomeres?

Uh, I don't work with telomeres.

I just kind of took a
shot in the dark, I guess.

Do you understand what you've done?

Telomeres hold our genes together.

Every time our bodies
produce cells, they wear down.

Eventually, so do we.

For now, anyway.

I gave this mouse a gene
therapy based on your input,

and if I'm right, he's going
to live up to two months longer.

Cool.

Two months... is that a big deal?

That is an entire standard deviation.

If we could apply
this therapy to humans,

we could expect to live another

20 to 30 years. Think about that.

You made it possible.

Although I do have to say...

You're different than
I expected you to be.

Your e-mails are
always... so articulate.

Yeah, uh, just kind of
depends on the time of day.

You see, if we do apply
this therapy to humans...

Was he a genius, or just
a crazy guy in Queens?

Off NZT, it's really
hard for me to tell.

I'd like to think he's a genius.

other biological problems occur.

Did you know your flat was bugged?

How did you get in here?

Tech's four years old,

so you can give the FBI
the benefit of the doubt

and assume it was installed
for a prior resident.

What do you want, Sands?

Sit.

It's time to make yourself useful.

We know quite a lot about
N-Zed-T our side of the fence.

FBI's playing catch-up.

We're curious how
that's working for them.

I want you to find out
exactly what they know,

and bring it to me.

This for you, or for Senator Morra?

That's not a distinction you
need concern yourself with.

Why does he need to know this?

Brian, you're asking questions.

No.

This is a bad idea.

We should wait.

They're just starting to trust me.

When Mr. Morra gave you that shot

to make you immune to the
side effects of the pill,

he told you it comes
with an expiration date.

You're gonna need a booster.

Shortly.

Or...

your life's gonna take a nasty turn.

Brain damage, blackouts,

psychosis.

When you bring me those
files... all of them...

Then and only then

will you get your next shot.

Your liquor cabinet's crap, mate.

Sort it out.

You've got three days.

Sync and corrected by rickSG
www.addic7ed.com

So Sands wants me to
get the NZT files...

That are locked in a
safe in Naz's office.

I mean, come on.

Hey.

Hey.

- You okay?
- Yeah. Of course. Why?

You're just kind of standing here.

I just came through Security.

There's someone here to
see you named Arthur Maciel.

Seems kind of agitated.

Huh.

He's gone. Tithonus is gone.

Your mouse?

He's gone.

Somebody broke into my place last night.

And I think they tried
to get into my computers,

but the security's too tight.
So, I don't know, they took him.

Okay. Well, you've
got your notes, right?

- Just make another one.
- That's not the point.

If the people who stole
him know what they're doing,

they can reverse-engineer my work.

The gene therapy inside
that animal is worth

hundreds of millions of dollars.

- Maybe billions.
- Wow.

And now he has it.

"He"?

A long time ago, I had
a-a business partner,

Paul Wilkerman.

We started a biotech company
called Claxion together.

You cofounded Claxion?

Yeah, it was in a garage
back then, but yeah.

Our visions didn't align,
so he bought me out.

For... $19,000.

You see, Paul,

over the years, he's been...

less than gracious

about my original
contributions to Claxion.

So after this breakthrough, I...

I wrote him an open letter and
posted it on a message board.

I may have boasted a little bit.

Arthur...

if you posted about your
breakthrough on a message board,

anyone could have read that, man.

Yeah, maybe. But who could move so fast?

You see,

he's built his career
on the original sin

of convincing the world that
I am not to be taken seriously.

Yeah.

Okay, look, I gotta
go right now, but, um,

- I'll look into it.
- This is...

it's my life's work.

Don't let him take that from me.

All right. All right.

I'll look into it.

Let's get researchin'.

The FBI put me on finding
avenues to nail Zhang,

but I couldn't help
thinking about Arthur.

You're procrastinating.
Believe me, I've been there.

Sands gave me three days
to dig up some files.

If I were you... and I pretty much am...

I'd be figuring out how
to get inside that safe.

Naz is the Special Agent in Charge

of the Cross Jurisdictional
Command, all right?

I can't just break into her office.

It's treason. They throw you
in supermax prison for that.

And what about Rebecca?

She stuck her neck out
for me to get this job.

What happens to her if I get
caught stealing national secrets?

So don't get caught. Because as bad

as you think this option might be,

I assure you...

the other one is way worse.

But you can get into that safe.

It's possible to make fake
fingerprints. Remember?

You're gonna want to press the
silicone into the pane of glass

with your index finger...

Aah! Boom. Told you.
You owe me 50 bucks.

You need to make a shopping list.

Cyanoacrylate, molds, gel.

Mike and Ike don't follow
me when I'm not on the pill.

I'll go tonight.

Now all you need is your boss's
fingerprints and you got it.

She's always drinking green tea.

So you're the one stealing my tea.

It's fine, Brian. The
government pays for it.

It's for everyone. I'm just surprised.

You don't seem like
one for healthy habits.

Oh, what, are you kidding me?

I'm gonna live forever with this stuff.

Ma'am. They're back from
the break-in at Mao Zhang's.

Tactical just got back
from searching Zhang's home.

- Anything promising?
- It's hard to say.

All the documents we
photographed are in Chinese.

We've got his hard drives.
Scans of everything in his safe.

If there was something compromising
in Zhang's house, we got it.

We're heading down to Forensics now.
We'll organize everything we pulled.

You will have plenty of stuff
to go through in the morning.

Ms. Harris.

I'm sorry for the ambush.

My name is Beth Gunther.

I was just leaving you a note.

I was your father's dealer.

I-I beg your pardon?

Sorry.

I sold his paintings.

As far as I knew, my
father stopped painting

after he lost his job at UNC.

I didn't realize he was
still working until he...

I'm sorry for your loss.

Conrad was renting a studio in Bushwick.

Given his history, he needed
me to cosign the lease.

The landlord touched
base with me a while back.

He was cleaning the place out,

and he found three finished canvases.

They pass on to you, of course.

I'm having a show next week.
I could sell them if you want.

But, really, I thought
you might want them.

You don't have to tell me now.

Thank you for stopping by, but...

you can sell the paintings.

Are you sure?

If my father wanted me
to know about his art,

then he would have told me.

In case you change your mind.

Wake up.

Ike.

Not my name.

Come on. Agent Harris
wants you in Riverside Park.

Hey, I got a question for you.

How do you and Mike
decide who comes over here?

Do you play
rock-paper-scissors?

Get up. Let's move.

I got in this morning, and I
saw the NYPD had put out a BOLO

for a name that sounded familiar.

Earlier this morning,

a man named Paul Wilkerman
was running in the park

- when someone stabbed him to death.
- Paul Wilkerman?

Chairman and CEO of Claxion.
NYPD found prints at the scene.

They're pretty sure they
belong to the killer.

- They match a man named Arthur Maciel.
- What?

They arrested him an hour ago,

and a detective said
he's asking for you.

I don't know what
Arthur was so upset about

when he came to see you
yesterday, but this morning,

it looks like he murdered Wilkerman.

I didn't do this. You
have to believe me.

They found your fingerprints
on Paul Wilkerman's corpse.

They can fake those.

I've been set up. This whole thing,

it's a trap designed by
someone very, very clever.

Lay out the steps.

Steal the mouse to give me motive.

Get rid of Paul and then
put my fingerprints there.

Please.

I don't have any money to
hire an expensive attorney.

The one they sent over,

she already told me to take a plea.

I don't know, Arthur.

Maybe you should listen to her.

I've spent the last 25 years of my life

working without...

without credit

or even that much money.

The only goal I had

was to help people.

If you want... want to know
who killed Paul Wilkerman...

find the mouse.

Find...

Tithonus.

Hey.

Yeah.

What if Arthur Maciel is innocent?

Do you have reason to
believe he's innocent?

He came to the FBI looking for help.

Then he killed the guy
less than 24 hours later?

It's just weird. And, plus,

he doesn't seem like a murderer to me.

Well, in that case, I guess
I would have to tell you

that the murder of Paul Wilkerman
is an NYPD investigation.

And the FBI shouldn't have an
opinion one way or the other.

Okay. Good talk.

However...

last night, our translators figured out
that Mao Zhang has been corresponding

with a high-level Chinese
operative named Lin.

Now, there's a Kevin Lin who
grew up one town away from Zhang.

He has a degree in
aerospace engineering,

he served in the Chinese military,

and he moved to New York six years ago.

So you think he's Zhang's handler?

He could be. Boyle and I
are gonna be all over it.

But the Bureau thinks
there's an off-chance

that Kevin Lin isn't the
Lin we're looking for.

They want you to comb through all
of the Lins in the tristate area.

How many Lins are there?

A little under 40,000.

Now, you can do that, or...

I have contacts at NYPD.

I could have them send over whatever
they have on Paul Wilkerman's murder.

Seriously?

You're telling me to blow
off the work the FBI gave me?

I'm telling you to prioritize.

On one hand, 40,000 people named Lin.

On the other,

someone who's been accused of a
murder you think he didn't commit.

Okay.

I ignored the files on
Mao for a couple of hours

and decided to look at the NYPD stuff.

Arthur's fingerprints were all over
the scene of Paul Wilkerman's murder,

but someone else's DNA was there, too.

Paul scratched his attacker.

There was dried blood
under his fingernails,

and it wasn't Arthur's.

And t didn't match anyone
from the ViCAP database.

Whatever that is.

That scrap of paper from Paul's wallet,

there's blue ink under there.

Why'd he cross it out?

Username: wilkermanp
and a bunch of numbers.

Password: sandcastle92,
with two "at" signs.

Why did Paul Wilkerman
have an e-mail account

he didn't want anyone to know about?

So, you know about
Paul Wilkerman already.

He's very accomplished, very rich.

If you're looking for people
who might have killed him,

the natural place to start

is with the people who stood to
inherit all that money, right?

Well, that turned out
to be a total bust,

because six months ago,

Paul Wilkerman wrote an op-ed
saying he no longer believes

in the concept of inherited wealth.

He pledged his entire fortune
to five different charities, so,

that's a no-go.

But Paul Wilkerman kept the details of a
non-Claxion e-mail account in his wallet.

I checked the user name and
password against common domain names.

Soon enough, I was in.

Now, Wilkerman used that
account to write back and forth

with a man named Alan Carverton.

He's the Executive Director
of Research at Claxion.

He used a non-work account to
communicate with his own executive?

Weird, right? And after Arthur

posted his big breakthrough online,

Paul Wilkerman and Alan Carverton

sent 27 e-mails back
and forth to each other.

I mean, Wilkerman wanted to know

why his head of research
was so far behind Arthur.

So, you think this guy
Carverton stole the mouse,

killed Wilkerman, and
then framed Arthur?

Congratulations. You've
got yourself a suspect.

What are you gonna do about it?

I don't know.

Um, Mike and Ike supervise
me while I'm on NZT.

That sounds really daunting.

You're telling me to ditch these guys.

What is with you?

If Maciel's innocent, I don't
want to see him going away

for murder any more than you do.

As long as you're here when I need you,

and you're not hurting anyone,
then, I've got your back.

Thanks.

Uh, one quick question before you go.

Who is Beth Gunther?

Your dad made that?

I helped him mix the paint.

I think it's my favorite
thing he ever did.

Wow.

He was really good.

Yeah, he always was.

Even after he started shooting
up in our bathroom every morning.

I hate what he did,

and I hate that he
died because of it, but

what happened to him is
not going to define me.

But you kept that business card.

I did.

I think my father was taking
NZT before he got killed, so...

if he was finally
painting again, that's why.

And I shouldn't care.

Did you ever tell the people
here that he was using NZT?

Based on what?

That he had a glimmer in his eyes?

I don't know.

If my dad was gone...

and I learned there was
something out there he had made,

I don't think I could ignore it.

So if Alan Carverton
killed Paul Wilkerman,

that means he has Arthur's mouse.

Which means it's in the labs at Claxion.

And if I'm going to get
there, I've got to ditch...

Mike and Ike.

Mike... four years
defensive line at Illinois.

Possible Special
Forces-type killing machine.

Real name: unknown.

Ike... two tours of duty in Afghanistan.

Good with knives. Maybe.

Real name... heard it
once, don't remember.

Sorry to interrupt.

Have you maybe gone maybe a little nuts?

Naz is leaving her office,
right now, as we speak.

The clock is running.

You do not have enough room on your
to-do list to help Arthur Maciel.

There are still two days left.

And besides, Rebecca just,
you know, confided in me.

I can't steal files from
her boss's office right now.

So, it'll be easier to
betray her later then?

I don't... I'll figure
something out, okay?

Now are you gonna help, or are you
gonna sit there and be annoying?

Look, if you just want to get past
Mike and Ike, it's not that hard.

Just leave your phone behind
when you get in the elevator.

Shoot! Forgot my phone!

Take the stairs, and you're out.

Get your hands on a
Claxion I.D., and you're in.

Hey, buddy, I'm selling Girl
Scout cookies for my niece.

Just trying to raise
enough money to buy a pony.

Sorry. We don't need.
We don't need, okay?

Can I put you down
for a couple boxes? No?

Lost and found.

Okay, so, Tithonus, the
maybe-immortal mouse...

He's brindle, so he should stand out.

You guys seen a brown mouse,

but... maybe...

He's not here.

Hey.

What are you doing in here?

Uh, Bruce from upstairs
wanted to make sure

we didn't leave the, uh, aerosol
nebulizer on in the induction chamber.

Oh, not cool!

Security has been breached.

Take necessary steps
to secure priority data,

labs and materials.

Attention: security has been breached.

to protect your priority data...

Ah, that's it.

That's the dead drop.

If Kevin Lin is really Mao's
contact in the Chinese government,

he's gonna be along sooner or later.

Then we can arrest them both.

- Hey.
- I'm inside Claxion right now.

I don't think Alan
Carverton killed his boss.

He doesn't have the mouse, anyway.

Okay.

Uh, there's a little bit
of a security situation.

Apparently, they're very paranoid

about industrial espionage here.

They got the building on lockdown.

You set off an alarm?

I didn't set off the alarm.

The research assistant
who didn't like me did.

Brian, you're on NZT.

Are you seriously telling me you
can't get out of an office building?

Well, um, I just freed all their
lab mice, so they're all busy

chasing their research
around the building.

But, um, yeah...

They've covered all the exits.

There's no way out of here right now.

Unless...

We have two SWAT teams
covering here, right?

Yeah. Why?

Get this one...

Rebecca Harris, FBI.

Claxion pulled us in because they think

whoever's in the building
is after government research.

_

_

Brian?

If anyone stops us on the way
out, you're my cyber consultant.

And Brian, when I said
I would have your back,

I didn't mean breaking and entering.

Next time, don't set off the alarm.

So, she saved my ass,

and walked me out of that building.

And how am I gonna repay her?

Not just your garden-variety
betrayal. Nope.

High treason for me.

I mean, it doesn't have to be that way.

You definitely have to lie to someone,

but you can choose who that is.

I'm not sure why you'd
pick the one person

who's looking out for you.

He was right. Or I was right. Whatever.

Sands doesn't know what's
in the FBI files on NZT.

So, how would he know if
he's getting real files?

I didn't take NZT until
10:30 that morning,

so I had some time to work with.

I made up a fake history
of NZT in the FBI,

based on speculation and guesswork.

Was it convincing?

I think so.

I hope so.

You weren't followed?

I don't think so?

I was expecting Sands.

You have something for us?

Look, I don't know if this is
everything the FBI knows about NZT,

but this is what my
boss had in her office.

We'll be in touch.

Hey. What's going on in there?

Kevin Lin came by the dead drop
in Central Park this morning.

That was him.

And Zhang tried to flee, but
we picked him up at the airport.

He's on his way in now.

Amazing. Well done.

Hey, I think I have something
on your thing with the mouse.

Yeah.

You gave me that list
of charities yesterday.

The ones that Paul Wilkerman
was gonna leave his money to?

One of them was the
International Relief Fund?

Yeah, that's right.

They were in the paper this morning.

Paul Wilkerman pledged to give
them one fifth of his fortune,

but they're learning that the changes
in his will were never executed.

So they're out hundreds
of millions of dollars.

Hundreds of millions of dollars
that now go to Wilkerman's kids.

The heirs have motive.

You're welcome.

Just another shift at
the genius factory, boys.

I ignored my research assignment

and spent the morninglooking
into Paul Wilkerman's heirs.

He had six kids by three women.

None of them seem too well adjusted.

Not really a pretty picture.

Of course, if one of them
was willing to kill their dad

to get their hands on his money,

they had to be positive he
hadn't changed his will yet.

There's only one person who
would have known that for sure.

Wilkerman's probate
attorney, Raymond Dell.

Hey, Mom.

Dad, what happened?

I'm fine. I'm fine. I just...

It's okay. Don't worry.

Yeah, you're not okay. You
got admitted to the hospital.

It's nothing that can't be treated.

Don't look at me like
that. I have a virus.

Honey, could you give that?

Right, it's called a Cytomegalovirus.

Cytomegalovirus? What is that?

It's something that happens
to some transplant patients.

The drugs I'm taking
suppress my immune system.

It's just a fever. That's all.

That is not what the doctor said.

Okay, they said that it
could go into my organs.

They're gonna watch me
for a couple of days.

It's just like a flu, Brian.

Yeah, except sometimes it's not.

That's not gonna be me.

It's what happens to
transplant patients.

We get sick.

We get sick.

I.V. Tech to Pedes.
Available I.V. Tech to Pedes.

Sorry to hear about your dad.

CMV.

That can be a nasty diagnosis.

What are you doing here?

I've got to give you credit.

You did a decent job on those files.

I've been handed loads
of bollocks in my day.

Yours is truly a cut above.

I want the real files, Brian.

And I want them tomorrow.

That nurse.

You said she was gonna take care
of my dad, not make him sick.

Don't blame Sipiwe, mate.

Forget her anyway. She's gone.

Sipiwe didn't do anything.
I didn't do anything.

You did.

All you said was you weren't gonna
give me another one of those shots.

One of several possibilities.

You did this, Brian.

And for the moment, you
have the power to undo it.

If you give me what I ask for,

I expect your dad'll be fine.

If you don't...

well, who knows how
these things turn out?

I tried to be loyal to the FBI,

and now my dad's in the hospital.

I'm making those fingerprint molds,

and I am getting into that safe.

Everything good with your dad?

Uh, he's stable,

so he should be okay.

Good. Mao Zhang just
agreed to make a statement.

Everyone's heading down
there. You should come.

You helped make this happen.

I'll be down in a couple minutes.

Okay, Mr. Zhang.

Whenever you're ready.

My name is Mao Zhang,

and I came to this country
as a believer in freedom.

I would even call myself a patriot.

How did I become a spy?

It wasn't a big decision I made.

It was more like a series of
small decisions I didn't make.

I ran into Kevin Linat
a conference in Berlin.

He shared Chinese technology with me.

It was only later I
realized it was bait.

I took money to share the
plans for a radar jamming system

they had access to anyway.
But they used that against me.

It snowballed quickly.

A few of the letters are
more worn down than others.

There's only one word
they combine to form.

Mercy.

By the time I was
committing real treason,

I didn't have a choice anymore.

I never considered myself a spy.

In fact, I still believe...

I am a patriot.

That the good work I did in my job

outweighs the damage
from the secret I sold.

You missed it.

You all right today?

Yeah.

Just distracted, you know?

Thinking about my dad.

Where'd you wind up with
the Arthur Maciel thing?

Arthur...

Would you be willing to
run an errand with me?

Excuse me?

Raymond Dell!

I recognize you from your pictures.

You're Paul Wilkerman's
probate attorney.

The super said that you were out
here looking through my garbage.

Actually, it's not your garbage
anymore, not once you put it out here.

Can I ask why the FBI is
looking through my trash?

I'm sure you already know this.

Police found fingerprints
from a guy named Arthur Maciel

at the scene of your client's murder.

They arrested him, but, interestingly,

someone else's DNA was found
under Paul Wilkerman's fingernails.

And once we realized Wilkerman's
kids still stood to inherit the money,

we thought maybe it
came from one of them.

But the DNA was from a
different family line.

You are the only person in the world

who controlled whether or
not Paul Wilkerman's will

was changed to reflect his new
thoughts on inherited wealth.

And if you did change it,

that means that each of
his kids stood to lose...

- How much again?
- About a billion each.

Ah. This is yours.

So you could change it,

like Paul Wilkerman wanted,
and his heirs get nothing.

Or...

you sit on it and you put
out some discreet feelers

to Wilkerman's less savory kids

and you offer not to file the papers

and you get rid of Daddy.

And better yet,

blame it on Daddy's
old rival Arthur Maciel.

All in exchange for...

- what do you think, half?
- Sure.

That's ridiculous.

Is it?

You chew your pens. I used to do this.

Probably a good DNA sample here.

Oh, yeah. Of course...

if it is your DNA under
Paul Wilkerman's fingernails,

we'll know soon enough.
Which means you have

a very short amount
of time to cooperate.

You could start by telling us which of
Paul's heirs you were conspiring with.

And I want to know what
you did with Arthur's mouse.

I do, too.

Oh, he's alive.

Oh, yeah, of course. Dell kept him safe.

Look, Arthur, if you're right about
what your gene therapy did to that mouse,

he could be worth a lot of money.

I am right. You did an
incredible thing today.

Not just for me. For everyone.

You don't believe me.

I don't know, Arthur.

All I see is a mouse.

Just wait.

You know...

even if you're not sure, you
still did an incredible thing.

You got me out of prison.

I owe you.

Everything.

Thank you.

Is he right?

Am I still a good person,
even after what I did today?

On the other hand,

until I hand this disk off to Sands,

I can learn more about NZT.

Sync and corrected by rickSG
www.addic7ed.com