All language subtitles for MacGyver (2016) - 01x20 - Hole Puncher.LOL.Cc

It's okay. Take the
field. Let's go, now.

- Come on, now. Okay.
- _

Here we go, Mac.

Okay, okay.

Let's go, Mac.

All on you now, brother.

Let's go, baby.

All right. Okay, okay, okay!

Run, run, run, run! Let's go! Take two!

Take two! Take two!

All the way, Riley, all the way!

- Get down!
- Out!

Get down! Get down, Riley!

You're out!

No!

Okay.

That's-that's all right.

Let's go. We're all right.

Hey, all right, come on. Get in here.

Huddle up for a second now.

Now, listen. Last time we played

the NSA Listening Post #27 Panthers,

we were pretty pathetic.

We're 14 runs behind, Jack.

I think "pathetic" applies here, too.

Wah-wah. Nobody likes a Debbie Downer.

Okay? I'll handle this.

What I'm saying is: we still
have a chance to win here.

Oh, man, I don't know.

Look at the score, the inning.

The base-out situation,

I'd say current win expectancy is...

See there? See there?
Mac's got the right idea.

His expectancy is for us to win.

- See that?
- You didn't hear what I said.

Well, we're not gonna
do that if everybody's

out there playing their own game.

As you know, softball is
a team sport, obviously.

But if you take the word "team" apart,

you still have "me."

A-And a "T" and an "A."

Jack, are you trying to say
there's no "I" in "team"?

I don't know.

What I'm trying to say is
that "team" also spells "meat."

As in, dead meat, as in, the...

you know, Panthers are-are dead meat.

It's-it's a motivational
speech. Help me out here.

This is a terrible motivational speech.

This is supposed to be
a motivational speech?

- Take the field! Come on.
- Wrap it up, Lombardi.

Any longer and we
forfeit for delay of game.

Lombardi was a football
coach, thank you very much.

Matty, yes.

"Never give up" on three.

Everybody in here. One...

- Everybody in here.
- This is Webber.

That means you, young
lady, thank you. And...

One, two...

We have to forfeit.

No, Matty, come on.
I'm the skipper here.

Okay, well, I'm the
skipper of our other ship,

and something's come up.

Something big.

Phoenix just intercepted intel

that a terrorist group known as "Omnus"

is gearing up for a major attack.

Omnus?

- Are they new?
- Very.

They've been on our radar
for about four months,

and they've been pretty
active ever since.

Uh, hold on. Let's go back
to the "major attack" part.

Any chance you can give us
the what, where, when, how?

Well, our best bet at getting that info

is tracking down the man
that they want killed.

In the same intercept that
alerted us of this attack,

we learned that Omnus
has offered $10 million

for the assassination of someone

who they code-named "the Architect."

While the identity of the
Architect remains a mystery,

the identity of the assassin
hired to kill him is not.

- Murdoc.
- Of course it's Murdoc.

Who smiles in a mug shot?

But why would someone try to hire Murdoc

when he's behind bars?

'Cause while we may know

Captain Banana Boat's all
locked up, nobody else does.

As far as the rest of the
criminal underworld is concerned,

Murdoc's still lurking from the shadows.

So, if we can I.D. this Architect

that Murdoc was hired to kill,

maybe we can use the information

to get ahead of whatever
Omnus is planning.

Agreed. But I.D.'ing the
Architect isn't gonna be easy.

Yeah, because the only people
that know who he is are Omnus.

And it's not like they're willingly

gonna give that information
up to anyone but Murdoc.

Right.

Actually, I...

I think I know how we're gonna do this.

How?

What's the one thing
everyone knows about Murdoc?

He's not a good-looking guy.

Uh, nothing?

I mean, we're not even sure
if his real name is Murdoc.

Exactly.

He's obsessively secretive.

So, if no one but us
knows that he's captured,

and no one but us knows
what he looks like,

I was thinking: if they want Murdoc...

let's give 'em Murdoc.

Listen, Highlights,

whatever snarky comment
you're about to make,

I've heard it a million times before.

And I don't have time for it now.

I'm Director Webber, head
of the Phoenix Foundation.

Ah, yes.

You're Patricia's replacement.

But just so we're
clear, Director Webber,

I have nothing
disparaging to say to you.

It's quite the contrary.

See, I know what it's
like to be different.

But because what makes me
different is all up here,

I have learned to
hide it from the world.

Mostly.

You haven't been
afforded that same luxury.

I can't imagine the strength that takes.

You have my...

admiration.

That's sweet.

I don't believe a word of it.

Flattery, like insults,

will get you nowhere with me.

Ooh, I like her, MacGyver.

I like her a lot.

So, to what do I owe the pleasure?

I know that you didn't drag me away

from The Bold and The Beautiful

just to introduce me to the new boss.

A terrorist organization has
hired you to kill someone.

- Ooh.
- Phoenix intercepted the offer.

And we need to capture,
not kill, the intended mark.

So, you're going to...

let me out on a little field trip?

Oh, no, not on your life.

I'm going in your place,

and you are gonna
teach me how to be you.

You want...

you think that...

Oh, MacGyver.

You are so... delightful.

As hilarious as that idea is,

for me, that's gonna be a hard pass.

Come on.

Don't you want to see
if I can pull this off?

Well, I do love

watching a bloody car wreck
as much as the next guy.

Okay, more than the next guy.

But even if...

you could pose as me

long enough to convince Omnus

to tell you the secret
identity of the Architect...

such a cute nom de guerre, by the way...

I have absolutely no reason to help you.

It's simply a matter of...

motivation.

I don't have any.

MacGyver, leave the room.

- What are you talking about?
- It's not a request.

Leave now.

I'd like to talk to him alone.

She told you.

So, what's the play here, boss lady?

You gonna force me to sit in silence

till I get so bored
that I agree to help you?

No, I was just making a point.

That you'd get uncomfortable
and talk before I would.

Oh.

How very 48 Laws of Power of you.

Just proving that you are more human

than you'd like to admit.

Speaking of proof that you're a human...

Who might that be?

You know exactly who that is.

He's your son.

And you think that means
what to me, exactly?

Pay attention, Matilda.

In case you hadn't noticed,

I am rocking a rather serious case

of antisocial personality disorder.

So what makes you think that I care

whether some child lives or dies?

You want people to think
you're not human, Murdoc,

but you are.

If you weren't, you wouldn't
have gone to such great lengths

to hide your son in one
of the most expensive

private schools in Switzerland.

You pay for his room,
his board, his education.

He even gets gifts on Christmas.

Makes sense that you want
to keep your son safe.

He's an innocent...

in a world of dangerous predators,

who wouldn't think twice
about going after him

if they knew that he belonged to you.

If they knew that he existed.

Are you threatening a child?

No.

I'm threatening you.

We can't leave the boy vulnerable.

Phoenix is taking him into
protective custody as we speak.

But what happens next is up to you.

Help us and little Murdoc
Jr. never has to know

what Daddy really does.

But refuse, and, well,

I think your son deserves
to know the truth,

don't you?

I'll give you 60 seconds to consider.

And then I want a decision.

What'd he say?

Oh, MacGyver.

Let's get to work.

So, first things first,

we need to lose that ridiculous jacket.

First, you're gonna answer
some of my questions.

How do you contact your clients?

Hmm.

- How do you accept a job?
- Usually by saying yes.

How do you target a mark?

See, my methods are easy to explain.

What's hard is teaching
a Boy Scout like you

how to go convince a client that
you're a cold-blooded killer.

Okay, then.

Tell me how.

Well, I can't tailor the
suit until I see how it fits.

So, we're gonna do a
little trial run first.

Something completely unrelated
to your issues with Omnus.

And seriously...

lose the ridiculous jacket.

Now, the people that you're looking for

should be at a table near the back.

Try to remember, MacGyver,

you're not here to get
a cat out of a tree,

you're here to get a name
to turn into worm food,

mm-kay?

Those two want to hire a hit man?

They look so normal.

What should I call you?

I've collected many names,

but I've always been partial to Murdoc.

Good boy.

Now get them to tell you a story.

Why are we here?

Our daughter, Rachel...

was murdered last year.

That's... that's her and Brett.

Her husband.

We know he did it.

So do the police.

But they couldn't find the murder weapon

or enough evidence to charge him.

He beat her.

The detective that came to the house

cried when he told us.

They wouldn't even let us see her face.

Lock up your feelings, MacGyver.

They came for a killer, not some hero.

I can handle this for you.

We just need to settle on my fee.

I'm sorry, we're...
I thought you were...

No, there must be some kind of mistake.

You kill people for free?!

Sometimes.

Oh, no.

Poor MacGyver didn't
have all the information?

Get used to it.

You almost never have
all the information, okay?

Clients lie, jobs go
sideways, things change.

You have to improvise.

Come on, isn't that supposed
to be, like, your thing?

Besides, it was so much fun

watching you figure it out for yourself.

Teach a man to fish and all that.

The truth is... you know this...

you lost that job

long before you asked about a fee.

See, Mr. and Mrs. Morris,
they came in that restaurant

looking for a dangerous predator.

We all have millions
of years of evolution

telling us how to spot one.

If you don't make something
deep within them crawl

the moment you open your mouth,

they're gonna know
you're not the real deal.

You're not just starring

in some middle school play, MacGyver.

It's not enough to pretend to be me,

you have to become me.

Otherwise, Omnus is gonna sniff you out

for the fake that you are,

and introduce you to the afterlife.

That's my job. Remember?

So, sit back,

and let me teach you
what you need to know.

First, you have to
learn to become a shadow

in the bright sunlight.

That means you have to take great pains

not to leave behind a trail of any kind.

Nothing financial,

biological or digital.

I'm a trained operative.

- I know how to cover my tracks.
- Sure.

But simply knowing how to
be invisible isn't enough.

If you're gonna walk a mile in my skin,

you have to believe
that what you're doing

isn't just fun and lucrative,

it's also right.

Murder for hire as a moral imperative?

I don't buy it.

When I was three,

I ate my first and last peanut.

Oh, this should be riveting.

Patience.

I was at a baseball game.
My father loved peanuts.

I loved watching him
crack open the shells.

I remember putting it in my mouth,

the feel of the salt against my tongue,

the way that it snapped
when I first bit down.

But, see, my parents, they didn't know

that I was deathly allergic.

The reaction was almost instantaneous.

And it was violent, and I nearly died.

So the first time we met,

I could have stopped
you with a Snickers?

Perhaps.

Don't miss my point, Boy Scout.

I didn't die, even though I should have,

even though I don't have
the enzymes necessary

to break down the allergens.

Somehow, my immune system saved my life.

See that's what we are, MacGyver.

We're... two sides of
the world's immune system.

We target people that make society sick,

and we stop them.

I stop them by putting them in a cage.

You stop them by putting
them in the ground.

Whose method's more efficient?

Sure, you can say that killing is wrong

and life is precious and
death is this tragedy.

But you feel that way...

because you're not looking at it

from the right perspective.

It's a lot to take in, I know,

but believe me, MacGyver,

you and I basically have the same job.

See, the difference
is that when you cage

one of your cancer cells,
they call you a hero.

When I kill one, they
call me a psychopath.

You are a psychopath.

By your definition, maybe,

but I'm not the one
who threatened a child

to get you to do what I want.

- Yeah, that...
- Oh, see?

That is a dangerous
two-way street, MacGyver.

See, I know...

that your sweet mother has passed,

and you have my condolences.

But dear old daddy's
still alive and well.

I wonder what he's doing today.

Oh, I think it's his fishing day.

That's my boy.

Yes. See, MacGyver?

You are a killer, just like me.

And the sooner you accept that my way

is the right way...
it is the only way...

the sooner you're gonna be ready.

Message from the boss?

Yeah.

Omnus has moved up the meeting.

Well, fingers crossed

that you've learned
enough, MacGyver, because...

it's showtime.

You still got five minutes to
change your mind about this, Mac;

you sure you want to do this?

The Architect is the key
to stopping Omnus's attack.

The only person he'd give his
real name out to is Murdoc.

We don't even know who you're meeting.

How can we be sure you're
not walking into another trap?

We can't.

That's why you're gonna be
there with ten Phoenix agents.

Last time I checked, Phoenix agents

ain't given acting lessons, all right?

They're not gonna be
able to help you pull off

a convincing performance.

You sure you can fool his contact?

Only one way to find out.

All right.

Well, like you said,

you only have to be this
lunatic for, like, ten minutes.

But after you get the
intel on the Architect,

we're crashing the party... you hear me?

Hey, you hear me? All of us.

Yeah, I hear you.

Team One in position.

Excuse me.

No one's allowed back
here without an I...

I'm sorry.

Sounded like you were about to say

"I.D. badge"?

But, you see, I've got one.

Now, you're gonna take a long
walk and forget all about me.

Or does this end another way?

Good.

Do you have any idea
how unsettling that is?

Sorry, getting into character.

Well, it sounds to
me like you're already

very much in character.

Approaching the elevator.

Jack, Teams Two and Three
are reporting no movement.

- You got anything?
- Nah.

Team One, we got squat.

Which is starting to make my
spidey senses tingle like crazy.

Any activity on the 24th floor?

No, nothing.

- Whose cell phone is that?
- Mine's on silent.

Mac didn't even bring his.

I think it's coming from the elevator.

There's a burner in the elevator.

I thought this was supposed
to be a face-to-face meeting.

Yeah, so did I. Mac, leave it.

There's no telling what answering
that phone would trigger.

Don't answer the phone, man.

Hello.

Murdoc. It's been a while.

We haven't spoken since
the El Salvador job.

When was Murdoc last in El Salvador?

Now, why would you want to play games

before we exchange pleasantries?

There was no El Salvador job.

We've never spoken before.

You'll have to excuse my paranoia.

You can't be too careful.

You'll find only one
number in the contact list

on the phone you're holding.

Use it to send proof of death.

And the target?

The dossier is also on the phone.

The clock on the contract is 12 hours.

Payment will be made in
full once we receive...

Proof of death.

You want me to fill out a W-9, too?

- You've picked up a tail.
- Who?

Unidentified operators in your area.

Are you kidding me?

We just got made.

This does not inspire
confidence, Murdoc.

We chose you for this
job because discretion

is mission critical.

You chose me because I'm the best.

I'll lose the tail and contact
you when the job is done.

How'd they do that, keyhole satellite?

Who the hell are we
dealing with here, man?

Mac? Mac?

Excuse me.

Mac? Mac!

Okay. Okay, Matty.

He just ditched his
comms and stole a car.

I think he's trying to sell
the idea he's losing a tail.

We need to get air assets up right now.

Jack, I know you're not
gonna want to hear this,

but we sent MacGyver in to be Murdoc,

and that's exactly what he's doing.

So have a little faith in our boy

and come back to the ranch.

Okay.

I hope you know what you're doing, pal.

Goodness. Man brutally murders his wife,

gets away with it, and now he's out here

golfing with some other woman.

Couldn't hate this guy more.

He hasn't gotten away with it yet.

Matty's giving us a
chance to prove he did it.

Hey, what's this?

Something Mac made me.

Boosts Bluetooth
signals over 100 meters,

makes hacking way easier, so,

we can sit back while
Brett's on his call

and snoop through his phone.

Okay.

I got text messages.

I got e-mails.

I got an affair with his sidepiece

dating way back before
Rachel was killed.

Whoa.

Whoa.

I got a whole nother sidepiece

that neither Sidepiece
One nor wife Rachel

knew anything about.

Dude had two mistresses?

Yeah.

Well, what do you know?

I could hate this guy more.

I can't wait to bust this jackass.

Yeah. If these are the kind of guys

Murdoc kills for free,

I kind of get it.

This is a constrictor knot.

The more you struggle,
the more you choke.

Now...

if you love your wife and your kid...

Shh.

You're gonna come with me.

Okay?

Very good boy.

Shh-shh-shh-shh, shh-shh-shh.

What Omnus?

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

Joshua, we talked about this.

- I don't like liars.
- I'm not lying.

- I don't know any Omnus.
- They know you,

because they've hired
someone to kill you!

You got to believe me, man.

I don't know anything.

If you don't know them, why
do they call you the Architect?

What?

I have no idea.

I swear.

I work in I.T., at a
cellular company, okay?

Look, I don't know anything about

an Omnus or any attack.

Please.

My wife and I...

we got another baby coming.

Got another one coming.

Please!

You got to believe me.

You got to.

I do believe you.

And I'm not gonna hurt you.

But if you really don't
know anything about Omnus,

why are they paying $10
million to have you killed?

What do you mean he
doesn't know anything?

He is the Architect, isn't he?

I mean, you didn't grab
the wrong guy, did you?

No. I didn't grab the wrong guy.

Joshua Abdal Khan.
Name, Social, address...

they all match the
intel that they gave me.

This is the guy that they want dead.

Hey, you, Specs.

I need a full profile on this guy now.

Uh, doesn't Ms. Davis
normally handle that?

Do you want to find that profile,

or you want to find a new job?

Uh, yes, ma'am.

Come on, chop, chop.

Time is money.

Okay, born in San Jose.

Degrees from Stanford and Columbia.

Works in I.T. at
TeleVast Communications.

Yeah, if it's a cover
identity, it's a good one.

Oh, I don't think it's a cover.

I went full Murdoc on this guy, and...

No, no, you didn't go full Murdoc.

If you'd have done that,
he'd be laying in a pool

of his own blood right now.

I went as Murdoc as I'm willing to go.

Okay, Jack? And it was
far enough to scare me

and far enough to break
any civilian, so...

Trust me, I just... he doesn't
know anything about Omnus.

He has no idea why they
call him the Architect.

Then why the hell do they want him dead?

Well, that's the $10 million
question, now, isn't it?

Guys, stay on the line.
I'm getting a call.

You tampered with our phone, Murdoc.

We can't pinpoint your location.

What can I say? I'm a big
fan of the right to privacy.

And I'm a big fan of results.

Why didn't you neutralize
the target at his home?

If you want someone gunned
down in their front yard,

you call the Mafia.

I'm an artist.

Then I sincerely hope
you're standing over

a Jackson Pollock of splattered
blood on plastic sheet.

Come on, Mac. Stall.

Oscar time, baby. Let's go.

Actually, I've decided that the price

of this particular
masterpiece has just gone up.

You're trying to renegotiate?

You made a deal with the devil.

Did you really think
it was gonna be fair?

Thought not.

If you're willing to pay $10 million,

I'd wager you're willing to pay more.

Say, 15?

Fine. $15 million.

If the job is completed
in the next 30 minutes.

We'll wire the funds as soon
as you send proof of death.

I don't understand.

You said you weren't gonna kill me,

and then you renegotiated the price?

I'm not gonna kill you.

I was just trying to buy time.

Look, they want proof of death.

Don't worry, I'm gonna fake it,

while you try and
figure out what you did

- to piss these guys off so bad.
- I...

What-what do you do at work, exactly?

Um, for the last four months,
I've been working on a way

to filter static out of cellular lines.

Yeah, I don't see the connection.

You're just gonna have to
tell me everything about it.

And when I say "everything,"
I mean everything.

Having two mistresses gives
Brett motive up the wazoo.

But it's not the hard evidence we need

to tie him to Rachel's murder.

Think she had any idea

who she was really married to?

Maybe. Maybe not.

People believe what
they want to believe.

You say that like you
know it from experience.

Not mine. My mom's.

When I was 16, she dated
this guy for a while...

Uh, just to be clear, this
story isn't about Jack, right?

Because that's gonna
make things real awkward.

No, this was right after Jack.

She was heartbroken,

and she met this guy

who said all the right things,

but what he did was the exact opposite.

Guy was a con man.

Scumbag.

Took my mom for everything she had.

Damn, Riley.

- That sucks.
- Yeah, no big.

I got the money back.

Oh, snap. So what, you,
like, hacked his bank account?

No, I, uh...

I got a biker gang to
have a talk with him.

And when you say "talk," you mean...

They broke his legs.

So he gave everything
back, and then he ghosted.

And how does a 16-year-old
get a biker gang to...

I may have hacked the LAPD

and made a few dozen
open warrants disappear.

And they hospitalized a
guy as a way to say thanks.

Well, they're a biker gang.

It's not like they're
gonna send a fruit basket.

Whoa.

Mistress number two works at a place

that sells GPS locator tags.

Would be a huge break
if this was the case

of her missing keys.

Looks like she sold some to Brett.

Probably how they met.

And he let his subscription run
out a month after Rachel's murder.

They make them for golf clubs.

14 clubs in a set.

How many did Brett buy?

Fourteen.

Cause of death was blunt force trauma.

And police never found a murder weapon.

I'll see if I can
reactivate his old account.

13 clubs at Brett's house.

And one in the middle of nowhere.

Ugh.

Feel like I'm getting tetanus
just breathing in here.

That's not how tetanus works.

No.

It's in here.

Does that look like dried blood to you?

All right, Josh, what were you saying?

Then about four months ago,

we started getting calls from customers

complaining about static
on the line, a lot of calls.

A-And for months, I was going nuts

trying to figure out what
was causing the interference.

Wait.

Wait, what is this for?

Oh, have you ever seen a
corpse that wasn't pale?

Me, neither. Keep talking.

Uh, so, anyway,

I finally realized I
couldn't locate the source

of the interference because
it wasn't interference.

It was data.

Some kind of high-frequency
tone buried in the cell traffic.

You guys getting this?

Yeah. Yeah, loud and clear, Mac.

But am I the only one who doesn't get

how bad cell phone service
leads to a death warrant?

No, you know what? When I say it aloud,

makes perfect sense.

No, it's not just bad
cell service, Jack.

Somebody was hiding
messages in the static.

Okay, I got us into Joshua's work files.

What are we looking for?

A file called "HFstatic. exe,"

a diagnostic program
I wrote two days ago.

I hadn't deployed it on
our whole network yet,

but it should pinpoint
the origin of the signals.

Wait, two days ago?

That's when Omnus put
out the kill order on you.

And now we know why.

Josh's program was about
to blow the lid off Omnus

and their secret communication system.

I'm beginning to think

Omnus isn't as new as
we thought they were.

The yellow dots are
Joshua's hidden signals,

and the red dots mark the location

of every operative we suspect
is working for The Organization.

The Organization?

As in The Organization
that hired Murdoc to kill us

and turned Thornton?

Now, now, wait a minute.
That-that would make sense.

Josh did say that four months ago,

customers started complaining
about static on the line, right?

- Right.
- We nailed Thornton four months ago.

That's when The Organization found out

their communication
system was compromised.

So they came up with this instead.

And it worked.

Until a network systems
architect tried to fix it.

Hence the code name.

So Omnus is The Organization.

Y-You mean to tell me
my boy's been out there

cosplaying as Murdoc
with The Organization?

Whoa, whoa. The Organization is back?

Like, The Organization organization?

And Jack knows what cosplay is?

Yeah, it looks that way, Boze.

Once I send proof of
Josh's death, he'll be safe,

and we can make a plan to
take The Organization down.

Hey, hold still.

And look dead.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mac,
don't send that photo.

And if I already did?

Murdoc's scrambler blocks them
from seeing your GPS signal.

But every photo you take

stores your GPS coordinates as metadata.

You just sent The Organization
your exact location.

- Maybe they won't look.
- Um, I'm pretty sure they looked.

Mac, I've got 12 signals
converging on your location.

And something tells me
they know you're not Murdoc.

That's why they agreed
to my price so fast.

They made me and got me
to tell them where we were.

Yeah, well, now an
Organization kill squad's

coming to clean your room, homie.

You better get out of there right away.

On my way, pal,

but you're gonna have to
hold them off for a bit.

- Can you do that?
- I don't have a choice.

- See you when you get here.
- You better.

So, how many bullets
you got for that thing?

Oh, that? None. I,
uh... it's just for show.

I'm not a big fan of guns.

But the people coming to kill
us, they have guns, right?

Oh, yeah, tons. That's
why I'm not a big fan.

- I've been shot at a lot.
- So, what are we gonna do?

Buy us some time until
Jack and his team get here.

A cleaning cart. Seriously?

Trust me.

They're here. Get inside.

You built a fog machine?

That's a hell of a distraction.

Only if we live. Come on.

Move in. Let's go, go!

They're using the fog as cover.

Go to thermal, go to thermal.

Targets acquired. Behind the umbrella.

That didn't buy us much time.

No, but this will.

Here, this way!

This way! Go, go, go!

Keep running! Don't stop!

Move in, move in!

- This way.
- Hurry up! Move in!

We got them. Target acquired.

Oh, my God, we're surrounded.

Go!

Hey, man.

Good to see you're still upright.

Unlike you. Or you.

Team Leader, where are you?

- What's your status?
- Bleeding.

Yeah, there he is.

- Doing all right, brother?
- Yeah. You sure?

Yeah, not a scratch.

No, no, I mean up here,

in la cabeza.

Murdoc did a real number on
that magic melon of yours,

brought out a side of you
I've never seen before.

Yeah. I was just playing a part.

Seriously. It's as easy
to shed as this jacket.

I don't know, me? I'm method.

When I go undercover,
I become that person,

whether it's Chad Palomino,

Bryce Villanova or Hortense Ledbetter.

We've got to work on your names.

Well, Hortense is a cat person,
likes daytime soap operas.

But Bryce?

Oh, man, Bryce loves the spotlight, man.

He loves the spotlight.

Well, you're just missing the point.

You're supposed to
conceal your identity.

Sometimes.

Ed, Cindy.

- We're...
- Not who we were expecting.

Don't say a word. We're leaving.

W-Wait, please.

I know you don't know
us, but we're not killers

and we're not the police.

The only person getting arrested today

is the man who killed your daughter.

What are you talking about?

Is, uh...

is this real?

Happening as we speak.

Police finally found the murder weapon.

- How?
- How doesn't matter.

All that matters is justice
will finally be served.

Well, the Boy Scout's still alive.

I can only assume that
means that you've now earned

your contract killer merit badge.

Actually, I was able to complete
the mission without any body bags,

which I'm sure disappoints you.

Quite the contrary.

See, I'm for any outcome
that keeps you alive...

long enough for me to get to kill you.

So, what is today's
lesson, Mr. MacGyver?

You want me to teach you
how to pass yourself off

as, uh, Charlie Manson?

No, I'm here to thank you,
because without your advice,

an innocent man and
I would both be dead.

Yeah.

Nope. I don't care.

I'm still a sociopath and
your thanks mean nothing to me.

Yeah, but just saying
it means something to me.

I guess that's the
difference between you and I.

So you think you know me now?

Better than I'd care to admit.

Mmm.

You know, being locked up

works up a powerful appetite,

but thankfully, Matilda
gave me a few small perks

in exchange for helping you.

You said you were
deathly allergic to those.

Did I?

Hmm.

You know, MacGyver, people just
believe what they want to believe.

Like right now, for instance.

You want to believe that this is over.

Your name is Daniel Horn.

You were born August 5,
1975, in Chandler, Arizona.

You attended Torrance Elementary

and then Thomas Edison
Middle School and high school.

You grew up with a dog named Piper,

a little Pomeranian.

Both your parents passed.

You have a sister and a brother,

but you haven't seen them in decades.

You have a B.A. in poli-sci

and then you joined the
Army after graduation.

Rose to cyber command sergeant

before a dishonorable discharge

in 2009 for selling DARPA computer codes

to North Korea's Bureau 121 hacker unit.

After that, you fell off the grid,

but we've matched your signature

to a dozen cyber attacks
all around the world;

most recently,

a water treatment plant in Chile

on behalf of The Organization.

You see, I know everything there
is to know about you, Daniel.

Hell, I even know the name
you still murmur in your sleep.

But what you don't know, Matilda Webber,

is that I wanted to be caught.