All language subtitles for Chaos s01e05 Mole.eng

I'm Agent Rick Martinez.

Let me be the first
to welcome you to the CIA.

This is the story of
America's great house of spies.

You've heard of
office politics?

Ours come with poison pills
and guns.

- Spy trap.
- I knew this was gonna be a fiasco.

I've been assigned
to a special covert unit,

conceived to go
where others can't,

and to do what others won't,

whether the mission's
authorized or not.

We each have our own
special skills, Martinez.

I lead, Billy charms people,

Casey hurts people,
and you translate.

We are the ODS,
last of the old-school spies.

* Sync and correction by Mlmlte *
* www.addic7ed.com *

Subtitles downloaded from www.OpenSubtitles.org

* *

(cell phone rings)

CASEY:
Yeah.

Felipe just called
from Bolivia. We're on.

I'm on my way.
Got it.

(knocking on door)

Something's come up.
We need you to sign this.

RICK: What is it?
- It's a contract.

We're prepared to make you
a full-fledged partner

in Ink Tech Industries.

What is it?

Our personal corporation.

You guys own an ink company?

BILLY:
An international ink company.

From color copiers
to home printers,

Ink Tech-- it-it
takes the mess

out of all your dry
ink needs, right?

All right. Let's get on with it.

Just sign it, Martinez.

I'm not signing anything

until I know what and why
I'm signing it.

Ink Tech is a cover company;

we use it for off-the-books operations.

Comes in pretty handy

when we need to travel
under CIA radar.

Yeah, you mean to carry out
unsanctioned missions.

Is that a whiff of condemnation
I just detected?

Yes. Yes, it was.

You're aware
that sanctioned missions

require
department head approval,

station approval
and funding approval.

If your house were on fire,

would you want
the firemen to wait

for funding approval
before putting it out?

Okay, but before I sign it,

can I at least ask what
fire we're putting out?

We've gotten into the business
of providing passports

to drug cartel members
trying to get into the U.S.

What?

It's a sting operation.

BILLY: Passports get tagged with
microchips.

From the moment they try
and enter the country,

they get arrested.
No fuss: no gunplay.

- That's pretty smart.
BILLY: Thank you. You'll often find us

looking for new and clever ways
to avoid getting shot at.

Anyhow, I got a call

this morning from our agent
in Bolivia.

He just received an order
for a dozen passports

from what he believes to be a
high-ranking cartel member.

So we're going to Bolivia
to check it out.

Welcome aboard. Casey?

You'll have to pack
your own toiletries.

I make it a habit never to go
into a man's bathroom uninvited.

* *

* *

Hola, hola.

Hey!

Rick, meet Felipe,

our man in Bolivia.

All right, let's see
what you have.

These two came in yesterday,
wanting passports.

Uh, they are not
Los Buscados gang members.

I-I think they are
Mexican cartel-- Zetas.

- You said you could provide them?
- Yes.

But it will take time.

I told them a week,
like you said.

Good. We'll need a few days to
get these home, and processed.

Uh, you-you can do
the passports here.

BILLY:
You don't have the right equipment,

unfortunately, Felipe.

So we're going
to have to fly back.

BILLY:
It's a very sophisticated process.

But-but...
But what?

These-these men...
if you don't come back they...

they will not be in a good mood.

Don't worry.
We'll be back.

Just stay put and conduct
your business as usual.

But there is no business.
No one has money to spend.

(speaking Spanish)

I-I used to work for the cartel
when-when I was a boy

and I-I was young.

I was small and I could
fit through the windows.

No open the doors.

I-I have to do very...

very bad things. And...

my parents,
they were very unhappy.

And worried all the time.

But now they are happy with me,

because I fight the cartels,
you know...

we fight them together.

That's good. That's good.

Look, we'll be back in a week
with the encrypted passports.

Stay close to home and
everything's going to be fine.

You understand?
Okay, gracias.

CASEY: This photo is from Felipe.

BILLY:
Tell me that's not the same guy.

CASEY:
I don't know, Billy.

I do. That's him.

Minus some rather
disquieting plastic surgery.

I mean this...

The face is all different,

but those are definitely
the same peepers.

(door opens)
Ah! My loyal baristas,

you bring me coffee.

And in return,
I bring you good news.

Our little sting
seems to have netted

a Carlos Chupino,

head of the Zeta cartel.

It's not confirmed yet;
we still have to run

facial recognition software.

It's him.
Eh... I don't know.

It's definitely him.

RICK:
Chupino was responsible for the death

of those two DEA agents
last year, in Matamoros.

I know his face.

I've studied his file.

You studied his files?

At the time, I was considering
applying to be a DEA agent.

My guess is, Chupino's looking

to land a U.S. passport
and cross the border;

keep a stateside watch
on his trafficking operations.

This is big.

Ms. Ferrer...

what's the status of our
internal security check?

The sweep is complete.

All departments
are ready to report.

I trust Threat Analysis
came up clean?

Every document, every e-mail,
every phone call accounted for.

Counter-Terrorism?

Same. Locked up
tight as a drum.

Ms. Burns, please give
my office advance warning

the next time you want
to bring muffins

to a security briefing.

That way, we can have
a vacuum standing by.

Mr. Corwin, how did Support
Technologies check out?

Good.

Good?

The... security sweep

flagged a possible problem.

We're technically
missing a few files,

but I know they're
going to turn up.

My department has been crazy
lately, with the changeover

to the new operating system.

Plus I got two people
out on maternity leave.

These missing files...

do they happen to
be top-secret files?

We've quarantined
all departments.

- Wireless access points
are now closed;

all external contact points choked.
- Good.

Shall I notify the FBI?

It is required
when we're breached.

I'm aware of that.

Make the call.

We need to get these
passports made, pronto.

Picked up a little Spanish
in Bolivia.

What's going on back there?

Maybe Michael Dorset's
offered to pay for lunch.

(beeps)

(beeps)
What's wrong?

Won't work.
Hmm.

Try.

(beeps)

Me, too.

(taps on glass)

Can you let us in?

It's exceedingly important.

I can't. There's been a breach.
The agency's on full lockdown.

One line only, single file.

Is she really gonna make everyone take a
lie-detector test?

Just the lucky few.
(beeps)

Report to testing.

Hola, Felipe.

It's me, Michael.

Are you doing the passports?

Yeah, that's why I'm calling.

We've, uh, run into sort of
a problem here, on our end.

If we can't resolve it soon,

you're going to have to close up
shop and lay low for a while.

No, I-I can't.

They're already here.

Men with guns, from the cartel.

Wh-wh-wait-wait. Are you sure?

They came early...

to watch me.

You've got to come.

Okay, Felipe, look,
just hang tight.

I'll get back to you
in a minute.

What?
Felipe's in trouble.

Chupino's men are watching him.

LURKIN:
Next. Keep the line moving.

(beeps)

(beeps)

(beeps)

(beeps)

Report to testing.

Call us when you're free.

FAY: So you're convinced
this is Carlos Chupino?

It's him. I can't get
these passports ready,

not with the lockdown.

But with your senior
specialist clearance...

Yeah... I-I can get them ready.

It's fine.

I'll just need
your operations number.

(clears his throat)
There isn't one.

This operation is
off the books.

Of course it is.

Why would you ever
make it easy on me?

It's important, Fay.

I owe you one.

You owe me thousands.

I'll have these ready for
you in a couple hours.

But these passports
won't be released to you

until Higgins roots out
his mole.

I know. We're working on that.

That's the room
where the files were taken.

CASEY: FBI's got it sealed up tight
till they can investigate.

BILLY:
Yeah, but

we're not gonna wait
for those buggers, are we?

Are you sure you want me
handling her?

Probably best.

We lived together
briefly in the '90s.

You're doing a remarkable
job, by the way,

handling this
devastating breach.

Hmm, in crisis, we do
what we have to do.

Hmm.

(elevator bell dings)

After you.

What are you doing?

When this

damn mole hunt's over, would
you go for dinner with me?

Um, well... this is unexpected.

Why the sudden interest?

It's not all that sudden.

I've been admiring
you from afar

for some time now.

Watched you in the break room.

Noticed how healthy you eat.

No salty or oily snacks dare
grace those beautiful lips.

(whooshing)

What's happening?
Crikey.

I think your keys must have
got stuck in the door.

No! No!
No, no! No, no! No!

Here. Put this on.

Hey.

Hi.

Hi.

(sighs)

Didn't expect to see you here.

Well, you should have.

I'm never lucky with those
red light, green light buttons.

Relax. The machine isn't
that hard to beat.

Yeah?

Yeah, I read somewhere that
before you answer the question,

bite the inside of your lip.

Physical pain
confuses the reading.

Well, you can have your pain.

I go in the other direction.

Mentally go to the
happiest place you can think of

and just... well,
just stay there.

Overwhelm the cerebral cortex
with pleasure.

Now for me--
well, that's a menage a trois.

Oh, I-I didn't...

I didn't mean the three of us.

Excuse me.

(sighs)

Italian politics.

That interest you?

My father served
as U.S. Ambassador in Italy.

Mm.
I spent a few years there as a child.

I'm hoping to get back
to Rome someday...

as ambassador myself.

Can I ask you a
personal question?

Sure.

If your thing is politics, then
why do you work here in the CIA?

Um...

it's been said that the keeper
of secrets holds all the power,

and power drives
our political machine,

so I figured that a short stint

working at the CIA
was a smart career move.

My turn.

Why are you here?

Oh, well, I wanted
to serve my country.

Help make this
world a safer place.

Really?

Really.

Careful, Mr. Martinez.
I'm likely to strap you

to that box
and ask the question again.

Go ahead. You'd get
the same answer.

(laughs quietly)

What?

You're so... pure.

Oh.

I don't know whether
to mock you or admire you.

WOMAN:
Number 28.

Oh. That's me.

(clearing her throat)

Good luck with the box.

Thanks.

I'll be thinking of you.

You know, um,
just to confuse the machine.

(beep)

All right,
let's get this done quick.

Hey, guys, aren't
we technically

disturbing a crime scene?

There's nothing technical
about it.

We are disturbing a crime scene.

BILLY: Why are you
suddenly enmeshed

in a moral quandary?

So where do we start?

What does a traitor's
work space look like?

Well, I always like to look for

the telltale Quotations From
Chairman Mao desk calendar.

MICHAEL:
We're not looking for a traitor.

At least not in the normal sense
of the word.

According to Fay, the lost files

didn't contain
anything important.

Just some airbase
development plans

from years ago
that never went through.

Certainly nothing that would
threaten national security.

This isn't about ideology.

It's about cold, hard cash.

MICHAEL:
Someone who either

had money problems, or was just
wanting to start living large.

So speak up if you find
a drawer full of Rolexes,

or a solid gold paperweight.

BILLY:
Unless

the documents were being sold
for sacks of kitty litter.

No?

Okay, I'm gonna
rule Dorothy out.

Casey, no, that's, uh,
that's Kratzert's desk.

Yeah?

Well, he's the guy
you said organizes

Thanksgiving dinners
for the homeless.

And?

Hardly a guy who'd cash
out for the high life.

Martinez, there are two things
I don't trust in life--

microwaveable sausage and

excessively virtuous people.

Ladies and gents,

I do believe
we have ourselves a winner.

How does a man
who drives a crappy little car

and brown-bags his lunch
every day for 30 years

suddenly decide to spring
for a yacht?

A guy who's selling secrets.

Corwin is our man.

(clears throat)

What's going on?

MICHAEL:
Corwin,

we know you took the files.

CASEY:
The new boat

on our salary?

RICK:
Higgins, the IRS

and the FBI are gonna want you

to account
for the money that bought it.

MICHAEL: So we're here to offer
you a chance to go to Higgins

right now and admit
what you did.

BILLY:
And giving yourself up

will greatly increase
your chances

of a more lenient sentence.

Hmm.

Forget it.

CASEY:
This offer goes away

in about 90 seconds.

If a person
had done something like that--

stolen a few unimportant
and practically obsolete files

from docking

and then peddled
them to countries

that didn't know any better,

that person would be foolish
to admit

what he or she had done because

even though
it was a victimless crime,

uh, they could be hung.

Or that person could get
a fist through his face

if he doesn't
start cooperating.

RICK:
And the crime is not victimless.

Because we're down,
a kid in Bolivia is about

to get killed by drug dealers.

What kid?

His name is Felipe.

He helped us, and now
he's going to get executed.

BILLY:
So that's something you might want

to think about next time

you're shaking up the pitchers
of martinis on your boat.

MICHAEL:
Corwin,

come forward
and make it easier on yourself.

(sighs)

You work your ass off
for 30 years, you grind away...

The files. Did
you act alone?

Did I act alone?
Of course I acted alone.

That's what
this job is all about--

alone, alone and more alone.

No appreciation and no money!

(sighs)

When it rains,
the sunroof in my car leaks.

I keep a pan sitting
in the passenger seat

to catch the water.

My whole drive to work...

Ping! Ping! Ping! Ping!

Could have gone in
the private sector,

made three times the money,
but, oh, no.

You can unlock the door.

I'm not running anywhere.

Martinis? You want to
know the funny thing?

The bottom of the boat
never even touched the water.

I can't even afford
the marina fees.

(garbled police radio
transmission)

Hey. What's happening?

Corwin's confessed to Higgins.

The lockdown's been lifted.

(garbled radio transmission)

You know, generally speaking,

I'm not a huge fan
of greedy traitors,

but you got to hand it
to the treacherous bastard.

You know,
he did the right thing.

Yeah.
What about Felipe?

Still not answering his phone.

We need to get down there
now and find out why.

(beep)

Mercer, please tell me
the passports are ready.

Yes... but...

Can I assume that I am looking
at the officers

of Ink Tech Industries?

Your own private company.

My, my.

I guess our security sweep
netted more than a breach.

It was off the
books, I admit it,

but you have to
let us finish this.

I do?

And all this time,

I was under the impression
that I was your boss.

Sir, if I may...
You break the rules

whenever you see fit,

and think nothing of it
because you produce results.

Well, dishonesty is

a slippery slope, gentlemen.

Ultimately,
it subverts the agency.

Look no further
than Operative Corwin.

We would never stoop that low.

Oh, I know you won't,

because I have got my eye
on all of you.

I want Carlos Chupino
behind bars.

And one more thing.

This little
corporation of yours

just went public.

What the hell happened here?

They torched the place.

RICK:
Does Felipe know

you were surveilling him?

What do you think?

Okay, camera's working,

so we should be able to see what
happened to him in living color.

(clicks mouse)

We going to let him watch this?

What?

You ever witnessed
a cartel killing?

No.

You may want to
keep it that way.

I'm fine.

(clicks mouse)

There he is.

What's he doing?

It was Felipe
who burned down the store.

Why?

Panic-- he's covering
his tracks.

I got it.
(phone line ringing)

Felipe, it's Billy.

So we're back in Bolivia,

we're in your store--
what's left of it, anyway--

and I think we need
a little sit-down soon,

so don't make us come looking
for you, you blighter.

Blighter?

Yeah, blighter.

It means a man without honor,
you know, a rascal.

It's old King's English.

English is Felipe's
second language.

Poncy old King's English
doesn't even register

on his radar.

He probably thinks you just
threatened him, genius.

That would be unfortunate.

(phone rings)

Felipe.

Naysayer,

meaning "damn dark cloud
of a man."

Where art thou?

The men watching me left,
and went somewhere.

Maybe
to get the money, I don't know.

It was my chance to run.

So basically
you killed the mission.

But you still have
the passports.

MICHAEL:
Yeah, but the moment

that Chupino's men step
inside the store

and see that you torched it,
they'll spook.

These are useless now.

I'm sorry.

If you could have waited
just three more hours...

I will give them the passports.

I'll explain the fire
was an accident.

I'll make them believe.

BILLY: We're not going to let you
do that, are we, Felipe?

That would be crazy.

It's a bit risky now
after your little bonfire.

I'm the only one of us
who speaks fluent Spanish.

We don't have to abandon
the sting operation.

I'll do it.

I'll give out the passports.

(tires screeching)

(speaking Spanish)

Your accent--
you're not from here.

You're from the north.

I moved to the United
States with my family.

Here.

Take the passports.

No, no, no, no, keep the money.

I don't need it.

I don't want it.

(tires screeching)

Martinez.

Yeah.

You hit?

Yeah, it's okay.

It's just my leg--
it's not that bad.

Come on...
Michael?

(groans)

Felipe, where is
the nearest hospital?

There is a small clinic, but
you have to travel to Asunta.

It's about an hour north.

Okay.

(Rick screams)

Casey!

How you doing
with the pain, Martinez?

It's... getting worse,
a lot worse.

The bullet hit the bone.

Here, give him this.

I don't, I don't like candy.

It's not candy, it's morphine.

Morphine covered

with candy.

Suck slowly;
it needs to last an hour.

Feel any pain now?

No.

You want a lick?

No, no, I'm good, thanks.

Huh?

Anybody want a lick?

Michael, you want a...?

Easy, buddy.
Michael!

(tires screeching)

(gasps)

He okay?

RICK:
What's going on?

Are we there yet?

(exhales)

The tie rod is shot.

This car isn't going anywhere.

This damn satellite phone
is worthless.

Well, of course it is.

It's like we're on the moon
out here.

Well, we can't sit out here
and do nothing.

You're going to need
to try and stitch him up.

That wound is too deep.

I'd have to cut him
open to stitch him up,

and then he could bleed out.

I can't do anything
to help him.

I-I can't.

What?

How far is the clinic?

15 and a half miles, exactly.

Well, I'd better
get started then.

Started what?

Sit tight.

I'll be back with a doctor.

Michael.

Michael.

How long's it been?

45 minutes.

Okay,

so that's eight minutes
a mile, 15 miles.

Should take him
about two hours,

so he's almost halfway there.

Assuming the clinic
is still open,

or that he wasn't eaten
by an alligator.

RICK:
I can hear you guys.

You know,

if this is it, if this is
really it, it's okay.

Rubbish.

That's the lollipop talking.

You're fine.

No, I'm not that out of it.

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time
in Scotland many years ago...

I was driving
my uncle's Rover P6--

which is a great car,
by the way...

(chuckles weakly)

...from Aberdeen
to Lossiemouth.

So there I was,
2:00 in the morning,

middle of nowhere, on my own,

when bam...

I hit a cow that
was just standing

in the middle of the road.

So there was nothing
I could do but roll up

the windows, lock the doors,

and wait till morning for help.

Anyway, I was sound asleep,
4:00 in the morning...

...and I noticed the
car gently rocking

from side to side,

so I raised up

and I peeked out the window...

and there was a
pack of wild dogs

tearing the carcass to pieces
from out under the vehicle.

What possible relevance
could this story have

to our present situation?

That things could be worse.

We could be surrounded
by wild dogs.

(chuckles)

(panting)

(static crackling)

Would you please
stop doing that?

I'm stressed.

Music helps me focus.

Turn... it... off.

Where are we?

We're nearly there.
Oh.

I mean it. I've got
to have some music.

Well, you can forget it

if you think I'm going
to bloody serenade you.

(clicks tongue)

CASEY:
* It was Christmas in prison *

* And the food was real good *

* We had turkey and pistols *

* Carved out of wood *

* I dream of her always *

* Even when I don't dream *

* Her name's on my tongue *

* And her blood's in my stream *

*

* Eternity *

* Old Mother Nature's
got nothing on me *

* Come to me, run to me *

* Come with me now *

* We're rolling, my sweetheart *

* We're flowing, by God *

* Wait a while, eternity *

* Old Mother Nature's
got nothing on me *

* Come to me, run to me *

* Come with me now *

* We're rolling, my sweetheart *

* We're flowing, by God *

* Come to me, run to me *

* Come with me now *

* We're rolling, my sweetheart *

* We're flowing, by God. *

(applause)

And so it is

with great honor I
present this commendation

for heroism in
the line of duty.

It's a reminder

of the brave work
the men and women of the CIA

do every day
in service of their country.

This is just what the agency
needed, Ms. Ferrer.

A real shot in the arm
after the Corwin incident.

A morale booster.
I couldn't agree more.

What are the latest numbers?

They picked up Chupino at Miami
International two hours ago.

So that makes
nine and counting.

You made a good call,

letting them finish what
they started in Bolivia.

"Finish" being
the operative word.

Make certain that
their corporation

is unincorporated
permanently by end of day.

Here. Let me help you.

Oh, thank you.

Appreciate it.

Hey. Where's my plaque?

Our very own homegrown hero.

We're so proud of you.

Thanks, but, um...?

The plaque will never
leave the building.

But they will allow you
to visit it from time to time.

MICHAEL:
This is the CIA, Martinez.

Publicity is frowned upon.

And the pictures?

You going to join us
for that beer, Martinez?

Nah. I'm gonna stay and get
caught up on my e-mails.

You should come.

We're planning
to spin some ideas

for a new off-the-books
corporation.

I think we ought
to go into publishing.

I've always wanted
to run my own magazine empire.

I propose we become importers
of finely-crafted Celtic ties

or Jamaican rum.

One gets me home.
The other to Jamaica.

Either way, I am happy,
you know?

You all right?

Yeah.

You know, I was just thinking.

To be great at our jobs
requires invisibility.

I can see how toiling away
at your desk for 30 years,

being anonymous,
could make someone like Corwin

crazy enough to sell secrets.

The smart men don't
join the Agency

for the "attaboys."

Or the parades.

That said,
I do love a good parade.

Yeah, but how do you do it?

How do you stay sane
when the risks we take

and the work we do
never get recognized?

I can't speak for the others,

but I consider myself
a shadow warrior.

And shadow warriors
hate the daylight.

I think the question was,
"What makes us sane?"

Not insane.

Hey, guys.

I never said thanks.

You know, for saving my life.

And there you have it.

A dollop of praise.

The common cure for insanity.

Hey.
Hey.

How's the leg?

Good.

I just have to stay off
of it for about a week.

Are you able to drive?

Yeah. The right leg's fine.

Then can I ask a small favor?

Sure.

Can you follow me home?

Uh, excuse me?

Well, I've had
this nagging feeling

that someone's been tailing me.

It's weird, huh?
I'm sure it's just the result

of spending far too much time
with Director Higgins.

I mean, the man
practically sweats paranoia.

Anyway, um, would you mind?

No, no, of course not.

Good.

(elevator bell dings)

(cell phone ringing)

Hello?

Hey. Anyone behind me?

Just me.

That's comforting.

So, what does it feel like
to get shot?

There's nothing particularly

special about getting shot.

I disagree.

I've never known anyone
that's been shot before.

It makes you more interesting,
quite frankly.

So I have to get shot in order
for you to find me interesting?

(laughs)
No.

I've always found you
interesting.

In a sweet way.

A little confession?

I was absolutely boy-crazy
in high school.

College, too, for that matter.

I was young, wild.

And sometimes,
when I look at you,

I flash back to those days.

I don't know why that is.

Maybe it's because
I never took the time

to date a sweet guy like you.

Anything?

Huh?

No one following?

Uh, no. Just me.

Good.

My house is on the right.

I-I feel a bit silly
doing this.

I don't mind, really.

Then maybe we could do it again
tomorrow night.

Just to be doubly sure
I'm not being followed.

Whatever you need.

Good.

It's a date.

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