All language subtitles for 3x12 Gaults Brain-randy.eng

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Look at them, hypocritical bunch of fools.

Each of them is secretly overjoyed
at Harlow Gault's death.

But I'm not dead, am I, my pet?

The essence of my genius,
my spectacular brain, lives on.

I am invincible.

Just a few more pages, Tara.

Catching up on your reading, Mr. Gault?

Today, I'm tackling the Russian classics.

There:

Read in less than an hour.
Not bad, eh, Doctor?

To think people can do more
without their bodies than with them.

Watch, I'll show you something else.

Theatrical, I admit.

But once the brain doesn't have to
drag around a worn-out, rotting skeleton...

it is capable of almost anything.

Even psychokinesis.

You see, my theory was correct.

By releasing the brain
from the task of operating a body...

I've unleashed psychic talents
that lie dormant in everyone.

Don't get too worked up.

After all, those talents aren't
going to stay unleashed.

That's up to you, isn't it?
We haven't much time.

Don't worry, you'll have your
raw materials for your transplant...

- very shortly, Doctor.
- Good.

Speaking of which,
I have some appointments to keep.

Mr. Gault?

Good news or bad news, Turk?

Bad. Just found out that the IADC...

has formally assigned Diana Prince...

to investigate the fire we set.

She's supposed to meet again
with Stryker this afternoon.

Why, that's good news, Turk.

For it means we'd better get rid
of Miss Prince once and for all...

does it not?

No guns, Turk, just a regrettable accident.

Y es, sir.

That was marvelous.

You should have no trouble
making the Olympics.

The decathlon is my favorite event.

I just work out on the bar
to keep in shape.

This picture doesn't even begin
to suggest the shape you're in.

Oh, that. I didn't even know
that guy was taking my picture.

Have you thought over
what we discussed on the phone, Morton?

I don't know, Miss Landon.

- Tara.
- Tara.

Eliminations are coming up,
and I'm training pretty hard these days.

You could train in my uncle's gym
while you're working for him.

I don't know anything
about being an athletic director, though.

Why don't you at least come in
and see if you qualify for the job?

If you do,
you can give me your final decision then.

Fair enough?

- That's your uncle's address?
- See you there at 3:00?

I hope it won't take too long.

I still have 10 miles to run
sometime today.

You might just find
that once you talk to my uncle...

all thoughts of competing
in the Olympics...

are gone from your head.

I could get a federal warrant, Mr. Stryker.

And if you don't start answering
some of my questions...

that's exactly what I'll do.

I don't like being strong-armed,
Miss Prince.

Besides, I've got a board meeting
in five minutes.

What do you know
about Thomas J. Craddock?

Nothing.

Then it might interest you to know
that it appears likely...

he will soon gain
majority stock control of Gault Industries.

Bad news really travels fast, doesn't it?

Look, I don't know the man.

I never even heard of him
until less than 10 days ago.

Nor had anyone else.
It's strange he should suddenly appear...

just when Gault Industries is in trouble,
and its stock drops lower each day.

Almost sounds planned, doesn't it?

Now, listen-

- Come in.
- Excuse me, Mr. Stryker.

Miss Prince, this is Emil Berger,
Mr. Berger, Diana Prince.

She's with the IADC.

Oh?

All right, Berger. Thank you.

Looks as though major disaster
number three just hit Gault Industries.

I'm afraid I have that meeting now,
Miss Prince.

And if you want to talk to me again...

you'd better get that warrant.

They say that bad luck
comes in threes, Mr. Stryker.

And I have the feeling that, in this case,
that's an underestimate.

Taxi, lady?

500 North Capitol,
the Securities and Exchange Commission.

Yes, ma'am.

It's pretty cold, huh?
How about some heat back there?

No, it's all right, thank you.

Come on, try it.
It's brand new, I just had it installed.

All right, if you insist.

Hold it.

Goodbye, Miss Prince.

- Let's go.
- Okay.

It had to be Stryker, Steve.

He's resented our interference
in his private matters from day one.

You'd think he could've been
a little more subtle, though.

That's why I can't believe
he ordered the attempt on your life.

If corporate heads are anything,
they are subtle. And efficient.

If he wanted you out of the way,
you would be out of the way.

So what other toes
have I been stepping on lately?

Hopefully, Ira can come up with something
from the fingerprints in the taxi.

Which was stolen, I imagine?

And wisely abandoned. Here we go now.

Looks like only three clear prints
were lifted.

Ira pulled photos for each one.

Photo number one: Nettlebaum, Selma A.

Mother of Eugene Nettlebaum,
wife of Morris Nettlebaum.

She has something to do
with an attempt on my life?

Obviously Ira's idea of a little joke.

Photo number two: Diana...

Cute.

Listen, you.

You tell Ira that he's about that far
from having his plug pulled, you hear?

This is him. The guy driving the cab.

Turk, George P.
Eleven arrests, five convictions...

for crimes ranging from arson
to armed robbery.

Paroled last year. Now employed
as a bodyguard for Harlow Gault...

founder of Gault Industries.

Why would a dead man's bodyguard
want me out of the way?

Bodyguards take orders.
The question now is, from whom?

Well, I sure hope my car is tuned up...

because I'm about to pay a visit
to the estate of the late Harlow Gault.

And I have no intention
of taking another cab.

Go on.

Good. Tell Dr. Crippin
to have the equipment ready.

I'll see the young man right away.

That athlete I was telling you about
has just arrived.

Let's have a look at him.

Wait till you see his shoulders,
and the muscles in his legs.

What's his name?

Morton Danzig.
An Olympic hopeful. Decathlon.

- Means he has stamina.
- Among other things.

I don't know, Tara.
I think he's too much an athlete.

Nonsense. Dr. Crippin said the donor
had to be in perfect physical condition.

And that's what I call perfect.

What I mean, my darling...

is that perhaps he's too much
in the public eye.

How would it look for him
to suddenly, without warning...

become the financial wizard
that takes over Gault Industries?

But, Harlow, you promised.
You said the choice would be mine...

and you'd do whatever had to be done
to legitimize who I found.

Yes, that was our arrangement, wasn't it?

Your reward for serving a sickly old man
for three years.

Four.

Since you've obviously
taken a fancy to him...

let's hope, my passion flower...

that he passes all of Dr. Crippin's tests.

Good. I'll get him started right away.

Morton, how nice to see you again.

- That job still open?
- It certainly is.

And while you're being interviewed...

we have a few tests for you to take.

If those are written tests, like in math
or history, I can tell you right now-

No, these are physical tests, Morton.

To be perfectly blunt with you...

we're interested in your body,
not your brains.

The gym is this way.

Excuse me.

Hello, I'd like to see Mr. Turk, please.
I'm Diana Prince with the IADC.

Please come in.

That blundering fool, Turk!

I'll be with you in a minute, Miss Prince.
Just through that door, Morton.

- I've seen him before, haven't I?
- I really wouldn't know.

Why are all the bodies beautiful?

We're hiring some security guards
for the estate.

Wait right here. I'll be right back.

You know who's out there.

Let her talk to you in here.
I'll do the rest.

You were asking about Mr. Turk?

Yes, he is still working here, isn't he?

Why are you interested in Mr. Turk?

For openers, he tried to kill me.

- Are you certain?
- Very.

Do you know where he is?

No, I'm afraid I don't.

After Mr. Gault's unfortunate death,
his services were no longer needed.

Maybe not here at the estate...

but I know for a fact...

that he is still
on the Gault Industries payroll.

Yes, that's correct,
he's now working for Mr. Stryker.

Stryker?

Yes, he said that he could use a man
with Turk's background...

whatever that meant.

I guess he knows that Turk is an ex-con.

- You didn't know that?
- Of course not.

If Mr. Gault had known that,
he never would have been hired.

All right. One last question:

Did Mr. Gault ever meet
with a Thomas J. Craddock?

No, not that I know of.

I'm terribly sorry.
I don't know how that happened.

I could've sworn Sir Lancelot
was stuffed in the corner when we arrived.

No harm done. A few new screws
and he'll be as good as new.

- I'm terribly sorry.
- Yes, I'm sure you are.

I can't explain how that happened.

I'm really sorry.

For what it's worth, I've got a theory.

Ghosts.

Morton Danzig. I knew I saW him before.

People are saying
he might win the United States...

five gold medals in the next Olympics.

And the eliminations
haven't even been held yet.

I can't understand
why I don't remember his picture.

I think he has a few attributes...

that women might find
more memorable than men.

In any case, I'm going to have Ira see
if he can figure out...

what Morton was doing
at the Gault estate.

You don't buy that security guard story,
do you?

Since when do security guards
have to look like Bruce Jenner?

Hello.

Yeah, wait a minute. What's the address?
1205. How long will he be there?

Okay, thanks.

Stryker's not in the office,
but that's where you can find him.

Good.

Hopefully he'll give me
some straight talk...

now that I know he hired Turk
to get rid of me.

But remember, the police
haven't been able to round up Turk yet.

And until they do,
it's Stryker's word against yours.

I don't know, Steve.

I have a certain knack
for getting people to level with me.

Pull!

I believe this is yours.

What are you doing here?

I was hoping
that we could have a little chat.

A little chat?

You ordered George Turk
to kill Diana Prince, didn't you?

I did no such thing.

But Turk still does work
for Gault Industries, doesn't he?

Turk was one of Gault's right-hand men.

Who's giving him orders now?

Ask Tara Landon, Gault's secretary.

Turk must be taking orders from her now.

Someone's trying to sabotage
your company.

Is it Thomas J. Craddock?

My research shows no such person exists.
It was just a name on paper.

Whoever is using that name
is obviously trying to gain...

majority control
of Gault Industries' stock...

and possibly set himself up
as chairman of the board.

Who? Is there someone
who would like to see you ruined?

Harlow Gault.

Harlow Gault is dead.

He hated me.

He hated the fact that I would
control his company when he died.

It's as if he's still trying to get me.

Ghosts.

Well, Mr. Stryker, thank you.

You can go back
to your target practice now.

It looks like fun.

Do you mind if I give it a try?

Pull!

It's much more sporting that way.

- How am I doing, Doc?
- You're doing splendidly, lad.

Ten miles and your heart rate
has hardly risen above normal. Amazing.

Heck, I'm not even warmed up yet.

Dr. Crippin, are you almost finished?

Yes, I think so.

How does Mr. Danzig shape up?

According to my initial readings...

he seems admirably suited
for the position.

I'll have to study all of the test results
before my final decision can be made.

- Something wrong?
- On the contrary, young man.

You appear disgustingly healthy.

It's amazing, just amazing.

I think we'll have some good news for you
in just a few minutes.

Listen, I'm still not sure
I'm all that interested in the job.

Maybe that's because
we haven't really discussed money.

No, it's not the money, it's just that-

How does $1,000 sound to you?

- A month?
- A week.

It would be like getting paid
to train for the Olympics, wouldn't it?

Yeah.

How about it, Morton? Are you interested?

Yeah.

Danzig Morton T., age 25.

Former student at Central University.

Winner of 14 track-and-field competitions.

Any criminal record,
any ties with anyone at Gault Industries?

Negative.

I guess Diana's hunch was wrong.

Morton really was looking for a job
as a security guard. Thanks anyway.

Wait, Steve Trevor.

The IRAC computer has more information
on Morton Danzig.

You've been holding out on me, Ira?

At this moment, computerized data...

concerning his scholastic records
at Central University...

are being tampered with.

Someone's changing his transcript
right now?

Affirmative.

Not only are his grades being raised
from a 2.3 average to a 3.5...

but his major is being changed
from Physical Education to Business.

How many students at Central University?

Fifty-two thousand.

So what the computer says, goes, right?

Which is as it should be...

most of the time.

Obviously, one of your electronic cohorts...

is being used to make Morton Danzig
into something he is not.

Is it possible to arrange a malfunction...

at Central's data processing center...

just to stall anyone who's there...

long enough for me
to have a talk with Morton?

With pleasure.

Then do it.

Well? What's the verdict
on this Morton Danzig?

Basal metabolism, normal.
Triglyceride levels, normal.

Cardiovascular system, normal.

Renal system, normal...

Stop all that mumbo-jumbo, Crippin.
Give me the bottom line.

Is he in perfect condition or not?

In my professional opinion,
he is astoundingly perfect.

There isn't a single solitary thing
I can find wrong with him.

He's got the constitution of a Brahma bull.

I told you I'd get you our man, Doctor.

Prepare him for the transplant at once.
We've already wasted enough time.

Within the hour...

I shall be the first man of science...

to abolish death.

Your brain in Morton's body...

will, in a sense,
make both of us immortal, Mr. Gault.

Correction, Doctor.

Your handiwork Will make you
and Thomas J. Craddock immortal.

- Tara Landon?
- Yes?

My name is Steve Trevor.
I'm with the IADC.

I was told I could find Morton Danzig here.
May I speak with him, please?

- Certainly. Come in.
- Thank you.

He's in the gym. He's quite an athlete.

He's going to be working for us.

Why don't you wait for him in here
while I go get him?

I know better than to ask
what business the IADC has with Morton...

- Mr...
- Trevor. Steve Trevor.

Trevor, right.

Why don't you have a seat?

- And excuse me, I'll go get him.
- Thank you.

Here we are.

Steve Trevor, Morton Danzig.

- How do you do?
- The IADC wants to see me?

- Did I goof up my tax return again?
- No, you're thinking of the IRS.

Why don't you gentlemen have a seat?

And excuse me...

- I'll leave you two alone.
- Thank you.

Morton, are you aware
that, at this very moment...

someone is changing
your college transcript?

Your grade records.
Somebody is tampering with them...

making you look like an A-student...

instead of the C-student
we both know you were.

Sounds great.
Why would anybody want to do that?

I understand
you're gonna be working out here.

I'm gonna run a private gym.
$1,000 a week.

- For running a gym?
- Yeah.

That's very interesting.

Especially since Miss Landon
told one of my co-workers...

you were interviewing
for a job as a security guard.

She did?

Something weird's going on here,
and you seem to be in the middle of it.

- Is there anything you wanna tell me?
- No.

- You in some kind of trouble out here?
- No.

Tara and Dr. Crippin
are about the nicest people I ever met.

For $1,000 a week, they ought to be.

I've heard of plenty of government people
who earn a lot more doing a lot less.

And I bet their employees lied
about why they were hired, too.

Good point. I'll tell you what I'm gonna do.

I'm gonna leave you
my name and phone number.

If you feel like talking, give me a call.

Any time, day or night.

Thank you, Miss Landon.
Morton, talk to you later.

I'll find my way out.

- It was nice meeting you.
- Thank you. Have a nice day.

- Miss Landon?
- Tara.

Tara, I'd like to ask you some questions.

Not now, Morton. It can wait, can't it?

Why don't you go back to the gym?
I'll see you there later.

Sure.

He was with the IADC.
Why didn't you get rid of him?

There was no need, my pet.

Morton handled him perfectly
without even knowing it.

We're too close to the end
to risk any untidiness, Tara.

Tell Crippin that as soon
as our colleagues return...

the transplant will begin.

Ira, do you think
the man we're looking for...

is still at the data processing center?

Affirmative. Do you wish me to undo
the malfunction I created...

in the university's computer?

Give me five minutes, then undo it.

Meanwhile, call Diana and tell her
to meet me there right away.

- You got that?
- Ten-four.

Bye.

Ten-four?

IADC. Hold it!

Get moving, fast.

I'm with the IADC.

I'm gonna ask you one more time.
Who are you working for?

He works for Gault Industries.

- Diana.
- Hi, Steve.

Last seen, in fact,
in the office of Mr. Stryker.

So Stryker is behind all this?

Why don't we hear what the man
who faces conspiracy charges has to say?

Look...

Tara Landon gave me the information
to put into the computer.

I just take orders from her.

- What does she want with Morton Danzig?
- I don't know.

Is she trying to make Morton
appear to be Thomas J. Craddock?

Morton Danzig is being held on the estate.
That's all I know.

I swear it.

What're you getting at, Diana?

Stryker told me that he's positive
Thomas J. Craddock...

is just a name someone's using
to buy up Gault Industries stock.

So whoever's using the name
must be sabotaging the company...

to drive down the price of the shares?

Yes, and now it appears very likely
that Tara Landon is setting up Morton...

so he can claim to be Craddock.

But Ira assured me that before today
there was absolutely no connection...

between Danzig and Gault Industries.

Why would anyone set up a stranger
to take over the company?

I don't know, Steve,
but I get the feeling...

that all the answers we need
are at the Gault estate.

I'm going out there.

Diana, wait for a backup.

Give me half an hour.

If you don't hear from me,
then call a backup.

Diana, wait...

Come on, let's go.

There's a couple of questions
I wanted to ask you.

They can wait, can't they?

I don't think so.

What's that for?

Nothing to worry
your head about, Morton.

When you wake up...

you'll be a new man.

If it's all the same with you,
I'll stick with the old me.

It is all the same with you, isn't it?

I'm afraid not, my boy.

You see, this job calls for brawn...

and we supply the brains.

But without this...

how could I remove yours?

I definitely don't want this job.

Don't let him escape, you idiot!

It's time we met face to face, so to speak.

Who are you?

Where are you?

My name is Harlow Gault...

and I'm right smack in front of you,
you young dolt.

I don't see anything but a fish tank.

This fish tank...

holds one of the world's most brilliant
and powerful minds.

You should feel honored to have been
selected as the receptacle for my genius.

You'll excuse me
if I don't accept the honor.

I believe Mr. Danzig
is waiting for you, Doctor.

Are you ready, Doctor?

Just a few more details.

- What's the delay?
- I'm not getting enough current.

Intruder on the grounds,
heading for the house.

Alert the guards, Turk.
And take care of whoever it is yourself.

Hurry, Crippin.

All right, go. Fan out! Go!

Hold it right there!

Continue, you fool.

This is a very delicate operation.

If I'm interrupted, it could be disastrous.

Whatever it was, Turk's taken care ofit.
Go on with it.

Don't stop, Crippin. I'll take care ofher.

Leave it alone.

Powerful as you are,
you're no match for me, Wonder Woman.

Go on with the operation.

No!

Let's go.

Hurry, Crippin.

Where are... They were gonna-

No, not anymore, Morton. They're gone.

It's frightening. He almost pulled it off.

Gault, using Morton's body,
almost took over his own business empire.

Only this time as a vibrant young man
instead of a dying 70-year-old.

Trouble is, there's only one thing
Gault can do, and that's try again.

I'm afraid we haven't heard the last of him.

Who knows what he'll try next?

This is the best I could do.

That Tara.
She had a lot of wigs upstairs.

How does it look?

I don't know, Morton.
I think it looks kind of cute.

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