All language subtitles for The Net - 1x21 - Chem Club

Hey.

Life's a banquet.

Field's a feast. Eat well.

My name is Angela Bennett.
I discovered a group of computer terrorists.

They erased my life.
They made me into a criminal.

I'm not going to stop
until I get my life back.

But if they did this to me,
they could do this to you.

Take that to the lab.

So our horse killers must have breached
several web servers...

to broadcast images of the fog.

Yeah, two crimes in one. Cyber intrusion...

and constructing a chemical weapon.

Three crimes. They killed the horses.

Locals were lucky. Last night's
rain kept the toxin close to the ground.

I asked to speak to the commanding officer.

Sounds like Biochem is only finding
trace levels in the soil.

Good.

- They'll find what you tell them to find.
- What's that?

Well, you're CIA. Black Ops.
You mutilated my horses.

This is Mr Joad.
I'm sorry about your horses, sir.

I looked at them. I saw some discolouration
from overnight exposure...

but no mutilation.

Dismiss me, but I saw
what I wasn't supposed to see.

You saw something yesterday?

In the woods,
when I left the horses to graze...

a government assassin
sent to take me out if I got in the way.

Mr Joad, I'm a member of that
insidious bureaucracy you'd like to blame...

but I can assure you there's no such thing
as a government-sponsored...

horse poisoning.

They can use your tax dollars
to buy horses and poison them themselves.

Don't talk to me about the government.
I'm a farmer.

Every year they choke me a little tighter.

Restrictions on the feed I buy,
on the drugs I give my animals.

Time's coming when a man's gonna
have to drive the government...

off his property completely.

Time's here for a man to take up arms.

Sounds like White Flag talking.

They talk the only sense I've heard in years.

White Flag?

It's a militia group. They have
a compound about five miles north of here.

Sounds like Mr Jen-ad's been looking
at the website. So have I.

White Flag didn't send somebody to kill me
on my own land.

Are you positive you saw a man with a rifle?

A sniper? You're sure?

What I saw was dressed to blend in
with the background...

so that he could do his dirty work
and not be seen.

So, for all you know,
you could have seen Bigfoot.

It's Oregon.
There are sightings all over these woods.

Go to hell.

Mr Joad, I apologise.

Show me where you saw the sniper.

This way.

Walter, go easy on him. He's just scared.

Who the hell are you?

Technically, Captain,
I'm not supposed to tell you.

You're press.
I want you and your friend out of here.

No, I promise you, we're not press.

Okay. We're with an outfit called the CIC.
Centre for Intrusion Control.

Why should I care?

Well, because we're under the auspices
of the Bureau.

We're here conducting an investigation
of a crime committed over the Internet.

You've got to do better than that.

Okay, look.

Last night's cybercast was
keyed in on servers...

containing websites
that are known fronts for terrorist groups.

Home pages and chat rooms. All come,
having right wing, left wing, radicals.

Show me some ID.

Okay.

You think last night's performance was
a weapons demonstration?

I think it was an advertisement.

Whoever sent out the test is probably
sitting back and waiting for bids.

What about you? Did you find out
what the compounds were used in the fog?

We confirmed the horses died of
pulmonary edema caused by...

a phosgene-based chemical agent.

If you want a full briefing
on our investigation...

I need a call from your superior
in Washington.

Not a problem. Thank you, Captain.

Hey!

Where's Mr Joad?

Looking for proof the CIA was here.

He thinks he saw spent shell casings
about 100 yards over there.

What are you looking for?

Bigfoot sightings are often concurrent
with animal mutilation.

There were no mutilations.

Well, I doubt the horses would agree.

My God, do you really believe in Bigfoot?

Oh, yeah. Mt. Shasta, 1985.

I was free climbing, he was...

eating berries or...

Okay, all right, I don't know what I saw.

But my world leaves room
for the improbable.

Your world is full of swamp gas.

No, that's UFOs.

Oh, wow.

Well, well. What do you make of this?

It looks like a horse's tail to me.

This deep in the woods?

Highly unlikely.

You're killing me.

Angela Bennett.

Hey, you better watch where you're
stepping. You're in horse country.

Horses have nothing to do with
what I'm stepping in.

Did you have any luck finding bad guys?

The digital video recorded the images
on site, but I managed to backtrack...

the server breaches to
Thomas Paine High School in Portland...

20 miles south of you.

So you think the video was fed back
to a central computer at the school...

and then sent out on the Internet?

What are you thinking?
Disgruntled teen hacker?

Well, most high school chemistry labs...

have all the equipment you need
to make a chemical weapon.

Right. And you can download the plans
to make the weapon from the web.

Yeah, but it's the skill of the chemist,
not the size of the beaker.

Most people would blow themselves up
trying to synthesise the chemicals.

So it still sounds like Paine's
our best place to start.

Does "us" include me?

Pack your bags, junior,
you're going back to school.

I hated high school.

Everybody hated school.
But you're gonna love your new teacher.

You know,
he's supposed to mind the storefront...

make the occasional bagel run.
I never approved him for undercover work.

Well, I would love to use you, Walter...

but I don't think you'd pass for
a transfer student in high school.

Oh, and you'd pass for a teacher, right?

Yeah, I have a Ph.D. in computer science.
But my bachelor's is in chemistry.

Angela, this kind of operation
needs planning, approval.

Okay. So you grease Washington
and I'll work it out with the school.

Hey, thanks.

What are you doing, Ted?

I'm hungry.
I finished my quota of government cheese.

Well, keep it. My way of giving to the needy.

Since you're in the spirit of giving,
I could use a study partner tonight.

Advanced placement tests for Stanford
are in two weeks.

You know my parents don't want me
spending time with you after school.

Parents are a temporary obstacle, Sara.

See, before you know it
we could be on some beach in Greece...

and they'd be a small memory.

Come on.
We're going to be late for chemistry.

Ms Allan, and that would be with two A's.

This is Chemistry Four, which you know.
I will be your teacher.

Ms Ryan had just finished with
covalent bonds, before she became ill, so...

now we're moving on to hazardous gases.

You must be Jacob.

I must be insane.

Class, I was told to expect
a new student today.

This is Jacob Resh.
He is a transfer from Bronx Heights.

It's a New York City school.
Take a seat, Jacob.

Okay, hazardous gases.

Who can name a compound that
causes a mutation at cellular level?

Dimethyl sulfate.

- Nitrous acid.
- Dichlorodiethyl sulfide.

Benzopyrene.

Excellent, excellent.

Okay. And who can tell me
how these methylates function?

Actually, they're called mutagens,
not methylates.

Thank you, Jacob. Anyone else?

And most mutagens don't need to
enter a gaseous state to be harmful.

Right again. There you go.

So maybe you should change
the overall heading of today's lecture to...

mutagenic chemical compounds.

Okay. Pop quiz.

Oh, man.

What did I say?

Pens down, papers forward.

Tomorrow we will be exploring
the captivating world of ion reactions.

Thank you.
Mr Resh, I'd like to see you for a minute.

Oh, busted.

Catch you later.

Oh, excuse me, Mutagen.

Excuse you, Methylate.

So, your friends sure seem to know
their chemistry.

And I'm sure that
they're no strangers to the web.

Stay close.
Any one of these kids could fit the profile.

Hey, Jake, that was harsh, man.
You iced out the teacher like that.

She needs a tight leash. I know the type.

Impressive display of chemical expertise.
You're good with your compounds.

The stories I could tell.

411.

Oh, Sara Winter.

Grand prize winner
in the genetic crap shoot.

- Yeah, tell me she's a cheerleader.
- I know.

As ordained by God, my friend.

Listen, New York, pull a stunt like that
again, I'll mail your teeth back to the Bronx.

Queens.

Stop crying, Nida.
You know you aced that quiz.

I don't like surprises.

- Come on, Ted, this is stupid.
- Sara, stay out of this.

Hey, remember, Resh,
my GPA supersedes your ability to chew.

Time to step on the love train, Theodore.

Sorry. He's not much on social skills.

All is forgiven.

Maybe we could interest a man of
your skills in a little extracurricular activity.

I'm listening.

Okay, what we're doing is a little radical.

A lot radical.

It needs more dough.
In New York they give you more dough.

And they toast the bun.

You know, I was thinking, what if this
undercover investigation comes up zero?

We have choices.

We can move in and round up everyone
who has access to the chem lab computer.

You mean like the entire student body?

Why would a high school kid
want to do this?

Okay. We teach kids to worship money...

power.

- Prestige.
- Exactly.

So, a kid with the brains to make the
weapon thinks he's going to get all three.

Well, the Bureau suspects White Flag.

That makes sense.

Test the weapon on the horses,
raise your stockpile...

sell the excess
to your fellow flakes over the web.

If that was true, then why would they use
a computer in a Portland high school...

to broadcast their demonstration?

Don't know. It's worth checking out.

Well, while you check on White Flag,
I'll try to find that computer.

Everybody stay put.

- Oh, man!
- Let's go. Let's get out.

Go, go, go-

Hang on! We have to write this down.

God, you've got a mean kick
for a computer nerd.

I'm so sorry, Jacob.
Why didn't you help me stop them?

I was trying to protect you
from blowing your cover.

What? We have them.
They're in there cooking the toxin.

You were witnessing it.

What they're cooking in there isn't toxic.
It's psychotropic.

Ecstasy?

Methylenedioxypropenylbenzene.
God, just saying that expands your mind.

And burning your lungs.

No, it's synthesised from sassafras and
some nutmeg oils. It's sickly sweet.

- Well, I still have to call the local police.
- Bad thinking, Shaky.

What? They were synthesizing
an illegal drug...

that is shown to cause
permanent brain damage.

Hold on, Doctor. What they thought
was gonna turn out to be Ecstasy...

I turned into a nutmeg breath mint.

They've been trying to make this thing
all semester, but it is strictly amateur hour.

They wouldn't even know where to begin
to make the fog.

Well, it was pretty smoky in there
and the kids were all wearing gas masks.

All right. Now, let's change the locks
on the lab doors...

and go look for the real horse killers.

All right. Well, put your mask back on
and go open some windows.

All right. I'm going in.

I need you to keep your hands on
the steering wheel and state your business.

Walter Cizelski, Portland Times Sentinel.
You guys read the paper?

Yeah, I use it to clean up after my mastiff.
Step out of the car.

I understand retired Major Paul Emerson
runs the place.

I'd like to see him, ask him a few questions.

Turn yourself around. Hands on the roof.

I'm covering the incident at Jen-ad's farm.

You guys probably have
heard about the horses.

Yeah, you don't care about what I've heard.

No one gets in, not even the press.

You just checked my adenoids.
Cut me a break.

No breaks.

Tell Major Emerson people are saying
White Flag gassed those horses.

I just want a balanced piece.
White Flag deserves to be heard.

Stay with him.

- Hey, how's it going?
- Hey.

I'm posting an open letter using the same
web servers that our bad guys used...

when they cybercast
that weapons demonstration.

With luck, whoever bid on the weapon,
will respond.

What are you going to say, "Dear terrorists,
let's chat about mustard gas"?

How about,
"Shipment of fog will be delayed"?

Well, this is gonna take hours because
we're gonna have to wait for them...

to backtrack the breach to establish that
the message came from here.

I attached a header.
They're gonna know the point of origin.

You've got mail.

"Down payment of $200,000 has been
deposited in specified account."

"As agreed, the remaining $800,000 will be
turned over to a courier at the delivery site."

"Delays will not be tolerated."

Oh, ominous dudes.
Let's backtrack their response.

They probably routed through
multiple sub-links.

Okay, we can find out where they call home.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

You sure they can't trace any of this
back to us?

Not a hope in hell.
I used the computer at the Boise library.

- Oh, damn road craters.
- I think I dropped a kidney.

Take your pick, boys. Save the earth...

or cover with six smooth lanes of concrete.
Can't do both.

Well, when we get the gas canister,
we'll be able to do it all.

- You ever see Bigfoot?
- Walter Cizelski?

Yes, sir.

What can the sovereign White Flag nation
do for the Times Sentinel?

Well, I'd like a statement about
the use of phosgene chemical agent...

near your compound.

Well, Matt Joad is our neighbour.

The incident on his farm was
a demonstration conducted by the CIA...

to intimidate my people.

Well, my government sources tell me
that you're storing phosgene on site...

and that the death of the horses was
a demonstration of the weapon's potency.

Your government sources?

Factory sells this car to the public.
It's got whitewalls and a nice hubcap.

The cars they sell to the government
get low profile tyres and black steel wheels.

You left the United States
the minute you turned off the county road...

and I don't appreciate foreign agents
on my soil.

I got six weeks' vacation time coming.

Maybe we could discuss libertarian
philosophy down by the fishing hole.

You tell your keepers we're ready for them.

And if I see your face again,
I'm gonna consider it treason.

You know, scapegoating the CIA
isn't good enough, Major.

You know the Bureau will demand access
to your facility...

to inspect for chemical weaponry.

I will defend this compound
by any means necessary.

FBI communications.
You are secure to Director Siley.

I wasn't able to inspect
the militia compound.

You mean they resisted?

There were issues, some of them legitimate.

I went in under false pretenses.

Don't defend them.
These men are dangerous, known terrorists.

Command says next time you'll have
a warrant and Special Ops to enforce it.

You don't have the evidence
to justify a forced invasion.

This isn't your call, Cizelski.
You'll act as support...

and follow Special Ops' lead.

What the heck?

No way.

Don't move. CIC.

Nice and easy. Turn around.

Turn around.

Look at you.

And here I thought
I was bumping into an old friend.

- What are you doing out here?
- Manoeuvres.

This is federal property. That's trespassing.

- These woods are the people's property.
- That's great. Drop your gloves.

Slow.

Drop them.

Put your hands behind your back.
Turn around.

So, any more of your friends out here?

If they were,
you wouldn't be pointing that gun at me.

This is Angela.

I just captured Bigfoot.

I wish I could be part of your conquest,
but I have a class to teach, Walter.

Maybe not.
I just arrested a White Flag soldier...

in the woods near Jen-ad's farm.

They wear jungle camouflage outfits
on manoeuvres out here.

We subpoena Joad, get him to testify
that the person he saw near the kill site...

was militia.

Well, that won't fly. Joad is a White Flag
sympathiser. Anyway, he saw CIA...

- Sara?
- What happened?

Angela?

Sara? Does anybody know what's wrong
with her? Sara? Sara?

- Damn it.
- She'll get back to you.

- Excuse me, Dr. Weg.
- Sorry, I'm in a hurry.

- It's about your patient, Sara Winter.
- Are you family?

I'm her teacher.
I found her collapsed in the hallway.

Well, tests show that she's been
exposed to Titus toxin.

I'm sorry. I'm unfamiliar with this. What--

It's a protein toxin chemically synthesised
from scorpion venom.

It's used as a weapon to disable troops.

Oh, my God!
Well, have you contacted the FBI?

Already done.

Meantime, we're treating Sara
with a wide range of antibiotics.

- So her exposure was minimal?
- As near as we can tell.

- I still have some tests to run.
- Excellent. Thank you.

Mr and Mrs Winter?

Hi, I'm Angela Allan. I'm Sara's teacher.

Yes, thank you for helping Sara.

Does she know how she was exposed
to this toxin?

She and a friend drove up to the woods...

outside that farm
where the horses were killed.

She told the doctors
they found a canister full of powder.

I told her to stay away from that kid.

So someone else was exposed?
Was this her boyfriend?

- Yes.
- No.

She was with Ted Nida.

They spend time together.
They're in the same classes.

- Has anyone found Ted?
- The police are at the school.

If they don't find him, I will.

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

This is Angela.

It's Siley. The White Flag militiamen
have pronounced him a prisoner of war.

Walter?

They called him a spy.
Said they're going to try him for treason.

And it gets worse.

Biochem Response found a delivery
system for Titus toxin in the woods...

outside the fog kill site.

The same woods White Flag
took Cizelski from.

You're putting Walter's life at risk so you
can hammer some right-wing extremists?

Walter understands the risks involved
in his job.

It seems to me you've fallen down on yours.
You still haven't located the buyers.

Oh, great. This is great.
I am so close. This trace is complex.

All I need is some more time on a computer
and I'm there.

Your window of opportunity is closing fast.
So is Walter's.

These men will stop at nothing
to get what they want.

We're putting troops into position.

Your friends have set up camp outside.
Started negotiations.

Centre for Intrusion Control.

Now, what do dead horses have to do
with Internet crime?

You know the CIC?

There's very little about the Bureau
I don't know, Agent Cizelski.

Then you should know
you only have one option, Major.

Let me inspect the grounds
for phosgene gas...

and I'll see what I can do
about the felony kidnapping.

Your friends are gonna learn
that the rights of the people...

outweigh the authority of the state.

We're gonna set an example with you.
Show them we're serious.

Then you're gonna find out what it's like
to have Special Ops in your face...

if you don't stop this.

I can't stop it. I didn't start it.

This isn't Ruby Ridge,
where it's one man against the world.

We're prepared. We want to fight.
Bring them on.

And you're going to be here with us
to see it finished.

- You'll be able to see her soon, I promise.
- How is she?

- I told you to keep away from her.
- Karl, stop.

Don't turn this into something
that's my fault.

Fault's not the issue right now.
Sara's going to recover.

He was with her. Why the hell isn't he sick?
You're a piece of garbage.

Your old man's garbage.

Oh, 'cause of the clothes on my back...

the roof over my head,
that makes me garbage?

I scare you, Mr Winter. I scare you because
you know she'll be with me--

- Like hell she will.
- Please, Mr Winter.

How can you stop it?
You couldn't stop this.

I catch you with her again, I'll kill you.

They've cut off all communication.
Negotiations are over.

They've threatened Cizelski's life.
Our insiders tell us they'll do it.

Send them in.

Move, we have incoming!

Move!

Go back down!

The trace through Prague is a dead end.
They're playing with us.

Oh, you know, you gotta calm down. You've
got to treat this more like a game of...

Where's Waldo?
Speaking of Waldo, where's Cizelski?

He's stuck in the middle of
the next Ruby Ridge and I am...

fumbling here with sub-links trying to
keep a terrorist from buying phosgene.

I really believed that
when we destroyed the Praetorians...

we could stop chasing devils.

The world is full of devils, Jacob.

"Courier en-route for fog pick-up."

It came in right under my nose.

Ms Allan?

- Hi.
- Sorry, the door was open.

What is it? Is Sara okay?

- I just want to talk to you for a minute.
- All right.

We went for a drive at the Jen-ad's farm.

Thought we could see some dead horses.

We got separated in the woods...

and when I found her,
she was poking through a metal canister.

All I want to do was see Sara.

I thought maybe you could help.

I don't think her parents
would approve, Ted.

What is the problem there?

The Winters are a wealthy family, Ms Allan.

My dad drives a tractor trailer.

Okay. Let me call her doctors, all right?

And I'll see if maybe I can arrange
a phone call with her.

- Thanks.
- Yeah.

- Agent Cizelski?
- Yeah, right here. Did you find anything?

We checked everywhere.
No phosgene, no toxin...

no facilities for cooking or storage.

I feel like I'm in the belly of the beast.

You know, in a heartbeat,
the truck could convert to hydrogen power.

The only emissions would be
oxygen and water vapour.

They'll wait till Washington shoves it
down their throats.

Washington won't do squat
until the people make a stand.

Yes, the right wing takes one
over the radical left.

Feds took the bait.
They at White Flag looking for the gas.

See that? White Flag made a stand
that got plenty of attention.

Now let's saddle up and get to Portland.

Clear out.

This doesn't make sense. He does not have
the smarts to synthesise phosgene.

Hold it.

That's one of the drug cookers, right?
I want all their names.

Local P.D.
picks them up for investigation, tonight.

Walter, maybe it's a set-up.
Maybe the real chemist...

poisoned the kid so we are bogged down
with he and his friends...

while they go make their sale.

I've seen too many people
loaded into ambulances today.

You say it has to stop, it stops right there.

Walter, look, we know you've been
through hell today. We all have...

-but Angela has a point.
- What do you know?

You're just a school kid for God's sake.
Can you shut him up?

- Yes, I can. Now, you listen to me--
- No.

The speculation is over, Angela.

Officially, the CIC has allowed
this situation to spin out of control.

You couldn't even backtrack
the buyer's location.

- We were close.
- It doesn't matter, it's not enough.

There are people sick and dead
from our mistakes.

All right. There's one mode of attack
that we haven't tried.

Most amateur chemical weapons are made
from herbicides bought at a hardware store.

That's right. And our weapon uses
volatile compounds.

The cooks had a synthesiser.

Right. Unless maybe
they managed to fake permits...

and buy them from
a major chemical manufacturer.

You're asking for more computer time.

You want to backtrack chemical purchases?

Yeah. Please, please, just a little more time.
We're right there.

All right.

But if we don't get something strong
by the morning...

Washington will close us down.

- Please tell me you're close.
- It's okay.

Portland-based Reliance Corporation.

And the venom could be used
to synthesise...

And they got approval from the CDC
for antitoxin research.

...permit to
purchase industrial-grade phosgene...

Samples shipped five weeks ago.

Right, and the venom was used
to synthesise a toxin called Titus...

...and hack the CDC's...

Here we go! Bingo!

State tax records say Reliance address
actually belongs to a warehouse...

owned by Winter Lumber.
Karl Winter is the CEO.

- Sara's old man cooked the chemicals?
- No, I don't think so.

See, I'm tracking a few major chemical
suppliers, and looking at Reliance orders.

These orders are coming from chemistry lab
computer at Thomas Paine High School.

- It's always a cheerleader.
- No, I've seen Sara's chemistry grades.

My money's on Ted.

He's using her father's company
to cover his tracks.

Let's go.

Sara, you have to tell us where Ted is.

His parents haven't seen him
since he left for school yesterday.

Sara, the police can protect you.

Did he expose you to this toxin?

He wanted me to leave with him
but I said no.

And he said he was getting a lot of money,
and that he'd made the fog.

And he swore that he'd hurt my parents
if I told anyone what he was doing.

Has he delivered the phosgene?

There's a courier who's supposed to
meet him at the warehouse today.

He's dangerous, Ms Allan.

My name is Angela Bennett
and I work for the CIC.

I don't understand.

I'm here because Ted committed a crime
on the Internet.

I'm so sorry.

I hope you feel better.

Hey...

you're a kid.

I'm the man who built your weapon.
I want my money.

Kill another horse
and you'll find yourself choking on that fog.

No joke, little man.

Our clients are sensitive to animal rights.

Horses had to die.

Wanted to implicate White Flag,
put the Feds off the scent.

The demonstration did the trick.
Do you know how to handle this stuff?

It has a long way to travel.

Hey.

Ted, stop!

- Put the canister down near your feet!
- You put the gun down!

Help me in the car.

- Sara. She told you.
- You almost killed her, Ted.

I offered to take her with me. She said no.

Wrong answer.

What did you offer the kid that you gassed?

Hell, like, the kid bought me time
to get my money.

Take your hands away from the canister.

Get the guns out of my face!

Walter.

It's okay.

I'm the smartest kid at that school.

Does that count for anything?

They judge you by your name,
by your wallet.

On the net they judge you by your mind.

And if you can deliver the goods,
then they'll give you your name.

Fill your wallet.

You want mass murder to be the reason
that you have fame and fortune?

You keep your morals, I'll keep my money.

Why should I care if they use a gas
in a war halfway around the world?

They're threatening to use it right here
and kill a few thousand people.

Maybe your family.

What the hell.

I think I'm bleeding to death.

Secure the canister.

You Okay?

Yeah, what about the buyers?

All three dead.

Doesn't matter.
The world's still full of devils.

I can't believe some of them are just seniors
in high school, though.

Yeah.

Angela.

Jacob...

I spend a huge chunk of my budget
on your education...

and yet you're always here.

Oh, well.
Academia lacks for creature comforts.

I got a call from Washington.
They traced the phosgene buyers...

to a base at Colorado Springs.

Mountain air turns people mean.

They told Ted they were middlemen buyers
for overseas interest.

Turns out they were ecu-terrorists
who were planning to release the gas...

at a golf course to protest strip foresting.

- So we get to stay open for another day.
- Rent, don't buy.

You've got mail.

Hey, Walter, this message is for you.
It's on your e-mail address.

- What?
- I opened it for you.

It was embarrassing having the man
in charge of stopping Internet crime...

not on e-mail.

What's my tag?

Bigfoot25CIC.gov. In memory of Mt. Shasta.

You know, I don't understand this.
It says something about a hair sample...

sent into the lab at Quantico?

I had the results sent to
your new e-mail address.

The hair I found in the woods
near Jen-ad's farm. Forget it.

That sample's from
a jungle camo outfit that probably...

No, it wasn't.

What was it?

Says here,
"DNA analysis: Hair from Equus caballus."

- Well, that's a horse.
- Of course.