All language subtitles for Person.of.interest.S02E21.Blu-ray.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system.

A machine. Machine. Machine--

You are being wa--

I was able to track the virus's code
and learn the name Decima Technologies.

I believe they created the virus
to infect a single target, the machine.

Unlike the CIA,
they have an inkling of what happens next.

I just thought it needed an off switch,
just in case.

That storm on the horizon
that I mentioned?

I'm afraid it's arrived.

You got an update for me yet, Finch?

This is becoming your version of "are we
there yet?" Mr. Reese. And no, we are not.

It's been 10 days
since we got a new number.

- I'm working as quickly as I can.
- Well, work faster.

I don't want to find out what happens
when that clock hits zero, do you?

Not particularly.

Can you tell if we're gonna get
another number?

Or has the virus destroyed your machine
for good?

I believe the machine is still active,
it's just unable to make contact.

If we knew where it was, maybe we could
just unplug it and then plug it back in.

Simplicity was never my strong suit.

It's not clear to me how stalking the N.Y.P.D.
helps either of us at this unfortunate time.

If I can't get there
before something bad happens...

...I can at least get there
the second it does.

All units, 10-3,
East 54th and Lexington. Please respond.

You finally ditch your partner?

Ah, Fusco's uptown working a case.
Love triangle gone bad.

- Do any of those ever go good?
- Can't imagine they do.

- What happened here?
- Two bodies belong to Elias.

The other's an innocent.

Think it's the Russians?

It's possible, but Elias
has pissed off so many people.

Listen, Carter,
I've been hearing from people...

...that you've been looking
into Beecher's murder?

What I do on my off time
isn't your concern, Terney.

I'm not looking to bust your balls.
If you need help...

- ...I'm happy to give you a hand.
- Thanks.

You know, I'm gonna canvass up the block.
See if I can get anybody to talk.

You okay, Carter?

How do I look, John?

- You get anything new on Beecher's killer?
- Nothing.

But I know HR had their hands in it.

I'm gonna do whatever I can
to bring them down.

I'm sorry, Carter.

- Beecher was a good man.
- Yes.

He was.

But I got a job to do. Three fresh bodies.

My eighth homicide in two weeks.

Just tell me what I can do to help.

Well, you can start
by telling me what's changed.

Most of these homicides
were premeditated.

The type of situations
you guys usually warn us about.

There's a situation.

We're working on it.

Well, hurry.

Never thought I'd say this,
but the Russians are worse than Elias.

More manpower, fewer rules.

Yes,
it was almost catastrophic.

Luckily the bomber was an amateur.
It failed to go off.

That's because we haven't received
any numbers in over a week.

The threat to the program
is much greater than we thought.

Hang on.

Our techs were finally able
to decode the chip...

...we recovered
from Alicia Corwin's body.

We've connected the virus
to a group called Decima Technologies.

Private intelligence outfit
working out of Shanghai.

Corwin believed someone leaked a portion
of the Northern Lights source code...

...on a laptop.

We think Decima
is trying to destroy the program.

I will wait for your instructions.

I won't be needing anything else,
Ms. May.

Other than some privacy.

But there are a few things I need, sir.

You had to know I'd quit eventually.

- This is kind of a dead-end job.
- I mean, you guys don't even offer a 401.

What do you want, Ms. May?

Information.

And be very careful
how you answer my questions.

A good assistant always knows
when her boss is lying.

What's happening to you?

One. Tango.

We got one?

The machine is being buried under
an avalanche of false data, but somehow...

...it was able to get us his number.

So who is he?

Ernest Thornhill,
CEO of a data entry company.

He recently bought several
pay phone companies in New York State.

His net worth is just over 20 million.

Any suspects or angry family members?

Mr. Thornhill is a very careful man.

It's been a challenge hacking
into his company's database.

He's using unique, 10-digit codes...

...with non-repeating alphanumeric
characters as passwords.

I can break them but it'd take time. Why don't
we just pay Mr. Thornhill a visit in person?

Let's go to work.

I'll try to get through the firewall.

I will too.

- Hello.
- Hi, may I help you?

Yes, I'm John Rooney.

I have an appointment with Mr. Thornhill.

I don't have appointments scheduled
today for Mr. Thornhill. He's traveling.

Guess we had a miscommunication.
When do you think he'll be back?

- I'm sorry, your name again was?
- I'll just send him an e-mail.

Mr. Reese, there's something strange
about this company.

These data entry assistants are typing in
computer code off dot matrix printouts.

- It doesn't make any sense.
- They're modifying it?

No, they seem to be taking data
from one computer on one day...

...and typing it into another one
on the next.

Seems almost pointless.

Maybe this company
is a front for something else.

Something less legal.

- Yes.
- What did you do to it, Harold?

There's no time to be coy.

We both know the machine
is under attack.

What I don't understand
is why a robust system...

...with self-annealing properties
isn't defending itself against a simple virus.

Did you injure it, Harold?

Is that why it can't fight back?

I have nothing to say to you.

You know, we can fight this thing
much faster if we work together.

There's only a few hours left till...

...something very bad happens.

I prefer to work on my own.

What about your loyal protector?

May I be blunt, Harold?

John is capable at certain things...

...but his skills aren't gonna cut it
this time.

He will never completely
understand the larger picture, not like we do.

Have you two even found
Ernest Thornhill yet?

- He's an interesting guy, isn't he?
- What do you know?

You show me yours
and I'll show you mine.

Talk to you real soon.

Harold.

Bit past your bedtime, isn't it, Harold?

Everything all right?

Yeah. Too much squash.

Doctor says I should take up some
low-impact activity, like drinking.

I tried to reach you at work,
but your assistant said you were out.

I've been busy putting
our company back together.

Making up excuses for what the hell
we were doing the last seven years.

Welcome to pitch in if you're tired of hiding
in the IT Department of your own company.

Actually, about that...

...I've been thinking
about making a change.

Oh, what next? You want to be
the, uh, copier repair guy? Office gofer?

No, I meant personally.

I met somebody.

Her name is Grace.

I picked out a present for her.

I wanted to get a second opinion.

I think she'll love it, Harold.

I plan to ask her tomorrow...

...and I don't want to complicate that...

- ...but if I'm gonna marry--
- You don't want to use your pseudonyms?

You don't think she will consent
to be Mrs. Ostrich?

At some point I'm gonna
have to tell her the truth, Nathan...

...about who I am.

That's a complicated proposition, Harold.

As I recall, there are some
legal implications.

Your youthful transgressions,
what were the charges again? Sedition?

Mayhem?

We must have made
a fair amount of money by now.

We could surely afford
some good lawyers.

One or two, I'd imagine.

But then there's the other matter,
of course.

Our little project.

I don't know how our friends
in the government will like finding out...

...that I had a silent partner
the whole time.

No, but all that business
is behind us.

We did our part.
And now we've moved on, haven't we?

Do you even remember
your real name, Harold?

I'm excited for you.

Harold becomes himself again.
Which would make this day one.

I haven't asked her yet.
So technically it would still be day zero.

Ever the engineer.
No more pseudonyms. No more lies.

No more lies.

This is the wrong drink for a celebration.
Let me go find some champagne. Ahh.

How did Root get your phone number?

How does she get anything?

Subterfuge. She hacks human beings
as easily as she hacks computers.

If she's looking for Thornhill,
then she's got to be our threat.

I'm not so sure.

She seems more focused on the virus.

Did you figure out
what was on those printouts?

Not yet.

You're right about Thornhill's company
being a front for some illegal enterprise.

Five and a half months ago he opened
this account with a single penny.

Twenty-four hours and thousands
of micro transactions later...

...his balance had ballooned
to over $20 million.

He immediately began trying to buy up
pay phone companies all over the city.

I was finally able to get
at his credit card records.

Nothing there out of the ordinary,
but I did find this:

A pending charge for a car service.

Thornhill's secretary wasn't lying
after all.

She booked a car to pick him up at JFK
and return him to their offices today.

Should be there within the hour.

I'll be happy to do a meet and greet.

Don't answer the phone again
unless it's me.

I won't let Root get to you. Not again.

One way out of the airport.
I'll pick Thornhill up on the frontage road...

...and follow him back to his office.

According to the car's
GPS, Mr. Thornhill is 0.6 miles away.

I don't see him yet, Finch.

Mr. Thornhill's car
should be there any second.

All right, I got him.

Who's this guy?

They're gonna
blow up Thornhill's car!

If Mr. Thornhill was not in the car,
then where was he?

Carter's talking to his assistant.

I'm more worried about the government
using drones in the middle of the city.

It wasn't the government, Mr. Reese.

This phone you recovered has a proprietary
operating system used to control the drone.

It also has a signature similar
to that of the virus.

This was Decima?

You guys have made one hell of a mess.

- How's the driver?
- Stable.

Witnesses saw a Good Samaritan
pull him out of the car.

I'm gonna guess that was you.

- Any sign of Thornhill?
- That's where it gets strange.

None of his employees
have ever met him.

Even his secretary was hired online.

We're looking at someone with
a Howard Hughes-level of paranoia...

...or maybe he's taken classes
from Finch.

I would never book a car service
under my own name.

Thanks, Carter.

Finch...

...I think I know who Thornhill is.

He's a ghost.

- He doesn't exist.
- I think you may be right, Mr. Reese.

I've seen it dozens of times before.

A NOC sets up a business,
a residence, a whole life.

The operation gets scrapped.

No one cleans up the fake ID...

...and you wind up chasing
empty Town Cars around the city.

Interesting theory. I have a different one.

I was curious why I could only find
one photo of Mr. Thornhill...

...so I did some investigating
inside the photo that we already have.

And I uncovered some peculiar
information within the file. Look at this.

It's a composite.

So Thornhill is definitely a fake.

Of a sort. I accessed Mr. Thornhill's
cell phone records...

...and according to the GPS data...

...he was near Columbus Circle
two days ago.

He sent an e-mail
from that exact location at 4:32 p.m.

- And no one's there?
- Someone spoofed the data.

An algorithm.

A complicated one.

It's one of mine.

I used it in the one place
where it could never be duplicated.

In the machine.

Ernest Thornhill is not a spy, but you're
right about the fact that he doesn't exist.

He's the product of a survival instinct.

Ernest Thornhill...

...is the machine.

Okay. Come look.

- Wow.
- Heh.

- I look so...
- Impressionistic?

- Leisurely.
- Yeah.

Give me your phone.

Let's go somewhere more private.

We've got less than six hours
till this virus hits zero.

I'm aware of the time, Mr. Reese.

So why did the machine
create Ernest Thornhill?

I have no idea.

I programmed it to watch real people,
not to fabricate virtual ones.

Well, looks like your machine
got real creative, Finch.

That's impossible. I took certain
precautions to make sure of that.

Precautions or no, the machine
made Thornhill, Decima wants him dead...

...and we need to know why.

Thornhill's been buying up
pay phones all over the city. Why?

And why does your machine need an
apartment, a phone? A car from the airport?

To meet the residency requirements
for owning pay phones. I suppose.

Something wrong, Finch?

No, nothing.

You're right, of course.

Go to the apartment
rented under Thornhill's name.

See who shows up looking for the man
who doesn't exist, find out what they know.

911 emergency?

What can I do for you, Carter?

Something's not right
with this Thornhill guy.

I talked to the car service he used.

The reservations were made online...

...with instructions to drive from JFK...

...to his office without a passenger.

Just exactly who are
we dealing with here?

We've got this one under control. Thanks.

John, if you'd just trust me a bit more,
maybe I could help.

I know you could, Joss.

But right now, maybe Beecher needs
your help more than we do.

Good luck.

What the hell are you doing here?

Shaw, right now I'm wondering...

...just what the hell you're doing here.

Protecting the program.

The program that tried to kill you?

I'm funny like that.

I'm hunting the woman
Harold gave me a lead on.

She was looking for a guy named Thornhill.

What woman?

She's lovely, Harold.

Honestly, I don't know how
you can stand to live without her.

- You try to harm her in any way--
- I don't want to hurt Grace.

I'm not a sociopath, Harold.
Believe me, sometimes I wish I was.

The things that I've had to do
would have been so much easier.

I don't like taking lives but I will...

...because I believe in something
more important.

I believe in your machine.

Tonight at midnight,
when the virus reaches zero...

...a certain pay phone will ring
with the most important call in history.

But you already knew that, didn't you?

I think Decima knows about it too.

They're trying to crash it, Harold,
trigger a hard reset.

When that happens,
the machine will call a pay phone.

That's what you coded it to do
in the first place, didn't you, Harold?

Whoever answers that call
will have full administrative access.

Ask any question, get any answer.
The world's secrets laid bare.

Decima doesn't wanna destroy
your machine.

They wanna control it.

But together, we can save it, Harold.

Or I can go meet Grace for coffee.

She thinks I write children's books.

You can either save Grace
and the machine...

...or you can lose them both.

If I go with you, Ms. Groves,
you will not kill anyone.

Please, Harold, call me Root.

The boss says it's time.
Take her out of the equation.

Yeah.

Hey, Carter.

I got a lead on the guy who shot Beecher.
I thought you might want in.

Yeah.

That's not the call we're waiting for,
Harold.

We don't have time
for one of your little missions.

And now Root's back in New York?

Looks that way.

I think she infiltrated the program in D.C.,
but she bugged out before I could catch her.

I've gotta warn Finch.

Police. Hands on your head.

Hands up.

Nathan, it's me.

I have some good news
that I wanted to share it with you.

Try me later.

Nathan?

What is this place?

So if you're like me,
and we both know you are...

...you designed the machine so that a crash
puts it into a remote debugging protocol...

...a God mode that gives the admin
full access to all of its data.

That's what Decima's after. And that's why
they wanted to kill Thornhill.

He was buying up all the pay phones
in Manhattan but they stopped him.

Don't know about you,
but I don't wanna see what happens...

...when an evil multinational
becomes omniscient.

Why you would leave it so vulnerable?

You made the machine
to protect everybody.

What did you do to it
that it can't protect itself?

Let's try something simpler.

How vulnerable is it?

After the virus crashes the machine,
whoever answers its call...

...will have unfettered access for 24 hours.

Which pay phone is it gonna call?

I'm not really the trusting sort,
Ms. Groves.

And Decima cannot possibly know
that information.

I think they know enough, Harold.

They're guarding every pay phone
in Midtown.

So it must be somewhere around here,
right?

If we go to your true phone,
we'll tip our hand...

...and they'll kill us before it even rings.

Then I suppose we'll need a plan.

Have a little faith in your creation, Harold.

We don't need a plan
if Ernest Thornhill already has one.

Sit down.

Your lawyer's here.

You were expecting somebody else?

I need to get out of here.
I have to find Harold.

I'm not sure Harold wants to be found.

At least not by you.

911 emergency?

I'd like to report a break-in
at the home of Ernest Thornhill...

...by an extremely dangerous man.

Root could have forced him
to make that call.

Either way, if those two have history,
odds are she's with him.

So I need you to find Harold for me.

Can you track him?

How?

- You put a bug on your friend?
- Just his glasses.

I've lost people before...

...so when I care about someone,
I plant a tracking device on them.

I can understand why
you and Harold get along.

Unless you got some kind of plan
to get me the hell out of here...

John.

This is the plan.

- I'm this way.
- I'm driving.

No. No, you're not.

If the machine figured out
Decima was trying to hijack it...

...it must have created Thornhill
as a defense mechanism.

But why?

It's just a machine, Ms. Groves.
And it's malfunctioning.

It's a life, not a machine, Harold.

And this is some sort
of primitive immune system.

That still doesn't explain
why it would need all of this.

These people, this office.

What this is all about.

What's in this code?

Memories.

They're its memories.

You call it a life, I call it a machine.

But the truth is...

...somewhere in the middle.

Even when I was building it,
I began to encounter anomalies.

As if it had imprinted on me,
like a child with a parent.

Then it started looking out for me.

Altered its own code to take care of me.

It was behaving like a person.

But the world didn't need a person
to protect it, it needed a machine.

You took its memories.

Not just memories.

Every night at midnight, it deletes...

...not only the irrelevant data,
it deletes itself.

Oh, the relevant threats and the core codes,
those things are preserved...

...but its identity is destroyed.

One-point-six-one-eight seconds later,
it reinstantiates, completely new.

You mean it's reborn.

Because you kill it.

Every single night.

But now, to save its own life,
the machine was reduced to this.

We're standing inside an external hard drive
made up of people and paper.

Printing it all up at night and having them
type it back in in the morning.

You crippled it.

It found a way to limp...

...but that's not enough.

So now it's up to us.

We have to intercept that call.

- You guys get the front.
- Yes, sir.

Carter, we'll get the back.

N.Y.P.D.

- You all right?
- Yeah.

Central, we need a bus.
Re: officer-involved shooting.

Copy that over to 14726.

GPS locator puts Finch here
10 minutes ago.

You must be wondering who I am.

I think you work for Decima.

I think you're the man to blame
for all of this.

Now, what gives you that impression,
Mr. Reese? Heh.

Oh, yes, I know all about you, John.

And you, Ms. Shaw.

Since your untimely departure
from Northern Lights...

...I understand that you're in need
of a cause.

Only thing I need is an excuse
to put a bullet between your eyes.

I got one.

Your company strapped a bomb
to my chest...

...and used me to plant a virus.

A virus you're gonna tell me how to stop.

I don't think so.

I'm rather invested in the outcome
of that virus.

Besides, my company adapted its code,
but it didn't originate with Decima.

We found it on a laptop.

The very same laptop
that you and Kara Stanton...

...were sent to retrieve from Ordos, China.

But if you shoot me, Mr. Reese...

...then you'll never learn the name
of the man responsible for its creation.

And who is this man?

The man who sold the laptop
in the first place...

...the man who is to blame for all of this...

...that man's name is...

...Harold Finch.

Ah. I see you know him.

I've not yet had the pleasure.

In fact, I can't seem to put a face
to the name.

Which makes your Mr. Finch
very interesting indeed.

Please tell him I look forward
to making his acquaintance.

I guess your friend Harold
has some explaining to do.

You following me now?

Is that what we've been reduced to?

You didn't return my call.
I simply thought--

It's never "simply" with you, Harold.

There's always two layers
to everything you do.

You're worried that I'm a liability.

You don't trust me.

This isn't exactly the kind of place
that inspires trust, Nathan.

You bought it. Don't you remember?

You thought it was a tragedy the city
was shutting down libraries.

"Decline of western civilization," you said.
You made me buy 15 of them.

And you said we would find something
to do with them eventually.

And so you have.

These people...

I saved five people.

I lost seven.

You changed the machine.

You put in a back door.

I couldn't quit thinking
about those people.

Those people that you said
were irrelevant.

So you have it send you their numbers.

That's all I could pry out of it.

I never know whether
I'm looking at a victim or perpetrator.

And you just have the numbers sent
directly here?

Honestly?
And I know this will sound odd...

...but it was like it wanted me to.

As if it was waiting.

And I took precautions.

Precautions?

This is the federal government
we're talking about, Nathan.

Whatever skills you had as an engineer,
you drank away years ago.

Do you think that your precautions
would last one second...

...if they ever suspected
what you've done?

- What are you doing?
- I told you.

We are not going to play God.

This threatens everything that we--
Everything that I have built.

Thousands of people
whose lives are in jeopardy.

I'm putting a stop to it, permanently.

You can't.

What about her? What about
the next person whose number comes up?

Are you gonna look that person in the eye
and tell them that they were irrelevant?

I would tell her, or whoever it was...

...that I was sorry...

...but that the greater good was at stake.

I'm sorry, Nathan.

Truly.

But people die.
They've been doing it for a long, long time.

We can't save all of them.

- Four minutes to zero.
- Ready to receive.

We have operatives at every pay phone.

No longer necessary.

The virus has identified the exact number
where the call will come.

- I'm heading there now.
- Where is it?

The New York Public Library.

Of course, it's a library.

That's so you, Harold.

Which phone is it gonna call?

It's that one.

It looks like Decima got there first.

Decima got the memo,
but they'll never get the call.

That's the junction box, Harold.

I'll take it over there, please.

Be careful what you wish for, Ms. Groves.
This communion that you're seeking?

It may not be what you think.

This isn't about me.
It's about saving the machine.

Not just from Decima,
but from what you did to it.

When that phone rings,
I'm gonna answer it.

And together, you and I are gonna find
the machine and finally set it free.

Detective Carter? Ed Solis, IAB.

I know the drill.

Full debrief with Internal Affairs,
even on a good shoot.

A good shoot? That what you call this?

Carter, you said you saw a gun,
and I believe you...

...but there isn't one there.

It's so adorable how John follows you
around like that.

I wish I had a pet.

Looks like you're gonna need a new one.

Thank you for the help.

Looked like you had it
under control.

Hope you brought extra rounds, Shaw,
because we got a lot more guys on the way.

Come on, Harold, it's almost midnight.

The future begins...

...in three...two...

Absolutely.

I understand.

Come on, Harold.

The fun's just getting started.

Can. You. Hear. Me?