Original subtitles

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

You think you want to be investigative journalists.

Well, my little woodwards and bernsteins,

welcome to your wake-up call.

The hours are long.

The pay... it's crap.

Nowadays, everybody wants to get their news

in 140 characters or less.

The glory days of investigative journalism

are long gone,

but if you're the type that likes to suffer...

Every once in a while...

You might come onto a story that blows your hair back.

I didn't think you'd come for the lecture.

Oh, I wouldn't miss the chance

to see one of the giants of journalism

dash the hopes of the next generation.

I am getting crotchety in my old age.

Fred, you were crotchety when I was in your class.

What do you want to talk to me about?

I'm interviewing a spy.

Guy's done on-the-ground intel for years,

high-value interrogations in Africa and the Balkans,

and then things changed.

Ready for this?

He says, per orders of the CIA,

he's assassinated US citizens on US soil.

Wow.

- T-that's a h-huge allegation. - I know.

I filed freedom of information act requests

on all the CIA operations that he told me about.

Most of them check out.

I am onto something big here, Daniel.

Exposing the criminal underbelly of the CIA?

"Big" doesn't begin to describe it.

Which is why the guy is extremely skittish.

He's worried that talking to me is gonna get him killed.

But at the same time, he's got to talk.

He's traumatized by what he's done.

So you want me to evaluate him?

Do you still consult for the FBI?

I do.

Then I want you to help me find him.

He missed our last appointment. He hasn't called.

I checked out the motel that he uses as a safe house.

He's not there.

The FBI is the only agency with jurisdiction over the CIA.

I was hoping that you could look into it.

Fred, you know, I'm really just a neuro/psych guy over there.

I mean, the CIA? That's a little beyond my purview.

Since when have you worried about your purview?

Okay. What's this guy's name?

Uh, that I don't know.

He refers to himself by his code name...

Cobra.

Cobra. What does he look like?

He wears a ball cap and glasses whenever we meet.

- Fred, how am I supposed to... - But...

You can listen to his voice.

This stuff I'm telling you could get us both killed.

I've got a buddy, Lemke,

department of agriculture guy, but that's just his cover.

A few months ago, he contacts me, upset.

Said he found out the agency ordered

domestic hits on US citizens.

He starts talking about where the hits took place,

and I realize that I did half of them.

Bastards called it "Operation Clean Hands."

I never thought twice

about killing terrorists in the golden triangle.

And when the order was to hit people in the US,

I convinced myself that it was okay.

They were foreign infiltrators,

but it was just government-sanctioned murder,

and they made me the weapon.

Cobra reveals the CIA is killing American citizens.

Next thing you know, surprise, he's missing.

Or he could just be on another mission.

Yeah, or maybe his agency brethren

are torturing him in a basement somewhere.

Okay, I'll look into it, but for the record,

I think you're jumping to conclusions.

Well, logical conclusions.

Kate, w-we're the only ones that can help this guy.

All right, look, maybe we can talk to his buddy, Lemke.

He should be listed

on the department of agriculture website.

If Lemke knows what Cobra knows,

he might be just as hard to find.

Actually, he's not going to be hard to find at all.

Why is that?

Because he died two weeks ago.

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.MY-SUBS.com

Mrs. Lemke, how much did you know

about your husband's work?

He was a good provider.

And the rest... was none of my business.

Did he ever work from home?

Sometimes.

I haven't been able to go into his study since he died.

So it hasn't been disturbed?

Well, a man from the office did come by

and take his laptop.

Can you remember his name?

Craig Berkowitz?

Special Agent Moretti, FBI.

I need to ask you a few questions about Roger Lemke.

I want a lawyer.

I'm telling you,

whatever he's hiding is on Lemke's computer...

the details about Clean Hands, Cobra,

maybe even Lemke's murder.

Lemke died of a heart attack.

You think that's a coincidence?

There are poisons that can induce heart attacks.

So can burgers,

which you love reminding me of,

so let's not get worked up.

I'm not worked up. I am very stable right now.

Look, all I'm saying is that these events,

which you are linking together,

could be completely random.

Gentlemen.

My client apologizes for his earlier reticence.

He's prepared to give you all the information you need

in exchange for full immunity.

I can't make any deals

until I know what your client's offering.

How about a list

of the prominent government officials involved?

I believe a deal can be made.

Okay, first of all, I just want to say

I had no idea they were hookers until after the party started.

Hookers?

I'm just a low-level guy.

Roger and bill allocated the funds for the girl.

Mr. Berkowitz, I'm not interested in your sex parties.

Just tell me everything you know

about Roger Lemke's involvement

in CIA operations here in the US.

Was Roger involved with the CIA?

Mr. Berkowitz, why did you take Mr. Lemke's laptop?

Because that's where he kept the pictures from the party.

I just erased those. I didn't touch anything else.

There's music, a lot of travel itineraries...

Amsterdam, Bangkok, Havana.

But the US doesn't have

agricultural interests in any of those cities.

He was obviously traveling for his spy work.

Yeah, or his perverted mid-life crisis.

These are all primo sex-tourism destinations.

Daniel Pierce's personal answering service.

How may I help you?

It's Max.

Yeah?

Fred Kleinman left you a few messages.

Can you meet him at his office?

Did he say what it was about?

He said he had new information

and not to do anything else until you talk to him in person.

Thanks.

Fred, it's Daniel.

It's Dani...

Oh, no!

This wasn't random, Kate. This was an assassination.

Journalism department, third floor.

And I'm sure that the university would appreciate

CPD keeping a low profile on this one.

Thank you. Daniel, what are you doing?

This is a crime scene.

I'm just looking for Fred's notes on Cobra.

If CPD gets their hands on them,

it's only a matter of time before the CIA does.

What the hell happened here? Who are you people?

Special Agent Moretti, FBI.

This is my crime scene. Who are you?

John Taylor. And this is a FISA warrant.

So I guess this isn't really your crime scene after all.

FISA warrant.

Big brother's excuse to invade our privacy

courtesy of the patriot act.

Central intelligence, I presume.

In the interests of national security, we're confiscating everything.

You'll have to leave.

How'd you get onto Kleinman in the first place?

Somebody tip you off?

Or you saw he filed freedom of information requests,

so you started bugging his office.

Unh-unh-unh. Laptop stays here.

A journalist comes to you with a CIA conspiracy story,

and you take the case without telling anybody.

Your journalist ends up dead, and then the CIA

takes the evidence right out of your hands.

Sir, I do apologize

for not coming to you with all of this sooner.

- I just... - Save it.

This could be an opportunity

to nail those CIA bastards to the wall.

So I'm... I'm not in trouble?

I got a crash course in CIA bullshit

back when I was an FBI legat at the Madrid embassy.

Arrogant pricks

blew off every request I made for information sharing.

If your journalist has it right,

we have a legal duty and a moral imperative

to bring these tight-lipped SOBs to justice.

So you'll get the evidence back?

Forget the evidence.

I'd need a chain saw to cut through all the red tape,

and even then,

half the material would be redacted anyway.

You want to blow the lid off this thing?

Find this Cobra.

Well, d-don't touch that!

Why? What is it? I don't know.

It could be anything... could be a bomb.

I'm pretty sure

the law firm of Petersen, Durtschi, and Harding

isn't in the business of sending letter bombs, doc.

It's a flash drive...

and a letter from Fred Kleinman.

"Dear Daniel, if you're reading this,

then this Cobra story is the one that finally got me.

But make no mistake.

I'm dead because of

the information that's on this flash drive.

This is the proof of Cobra's allegations against the CIA.

I'm giving it to you because our country has the right to know

and because I've always wanted...

to win a posthumous pulitzer.

Your friend, Fred."

Okay, keep your eyes on the businessman.

- What happened? - Cobra happened. Play it again.

You see the guy in the ball cap?

- Mm-hmm. - That's Cobra. Now watch.

He reaches into his bag

just as he's passing business guy... there.

He bumps into him on purpose

and shoots him with a tiny dart of lethal poison

called Succinylcholine, induces a heart attack.

Daniel, there's no way you can get all that from this.

Play... play the audio file.

They call it a heart-attack gun.

It's tiny, but powerful enough

to shoot the dart through the bag

and the target's clothing.

What about an autopsy report?

The poison is Succinylcholine.

Its properties disappear almost immediately.

So the autopsy reveals nothing but the heart attack.

Okay, show her... show her the, uh... the newspaper article.

Okay, uh, "Nicolai Zalesky, 49 years old,

sudden cardiac arrest.

Died December 11th," last year.

Okay, but why would the CIA target this guy?

Funny you should ask. Lewicki.

Do you know why Nicolai Zalesky was targeted?

File said that he was financing

a white supremacy group called the White Horizon.

It said Zalesky was a Russian national.

But later, I did some digging.

He was a US citizen, and we never should have been

assassinating people in the United States.

Arrest them, investigate them, give them due process.

This is supposed to be America.

What are you gonna do if the CIA finds out that you've been talking?

If you don't hear from me, call the ambassador.

Oh, so... so, now who's jumping to conclusions?

Okay. I'm on board.

But that can't be the end of the file.

S-s-so, who was the ambassador?

The ambassador may not be a who, but a what.

Fred said Cobra uses a local motel as a safe house.

I didn't do the check-in, so I've never seen the guest.

Got a last name Smith, enough cash for a week's stay.

Hasn't come out, won't let anyone in.

- Management... open up! - Whoa!

Hey! Take it easy!

Cobra, this is the FBI. We're here to help.

You have a master?

Cobra, unless you want a SWAT Team

crawling all over this place,

drop your weapon and come out right now!

Listen, we know who you're hiding from.

The FBI can protect you if you cooperate.

How do I know you're telling the truth?

Who are you?

My name is Daisy Brennan.

I'm Cobra's girlfriend. Please don't shoot!

You alone?

Yes! Yes, I'm alone.

I'm alone!

I'm sorry. I was so scared.

I thought you were here to kill me.

What were you doing holed up in a motel room with a shotgun?

Cobra kept a duffel bag up filled with cash and supplies

in case of a threat on our lives.

On his signal, I'd go to the ambassador

with the bag and a shotgun, and I wait.

Why would you be a target?

Cobra always said I was the only leverage

anyone could ever use against him.

He said he'd do anything to protect me,

no matter what the cost.

This job is gonna kill him one way or another.

Listen, Daisy. We can protect Cobra.

We just have to find him.

Now, you need to tell us his real name.

Sorry... I promised him I would never reveal

his identity to anyone under any circumstances.

I understand.

He's a courageous man, knowing what he knows,

coming forward, telling the truth,

but we're on his side.

There is something I can give you.

A burner phone.

If I haven't heard from Cobra in five days,

I'm supposed to call his handler.

The authentication code is "Grayhawk."

Authenticate.

Grayhawk.

Who the hell is this?

Friends of Cobra.

ID yourselves, or this call's over.

Why don't you identify yourself first?

Look. You don't have any leverage.

Right about now, your tech is gonna realize

he can't trace this call.

You got three seconds to tell me who you are,

or I hang up.

One... Two...

Uh, Daniel J. Pierce.

I-I'm a neuroscientist consulting with the FBI.

Special Agent Moretti.

Listen. We know that Cobra is on the run from the CIA.

We want to ensure his safety.

I'm not telling you anything till you've both been vetted.

If you check out... I'll be in touch.

Sorry.

I guess we just settle in and wait for his call.

If he calls.

I mean, vetting us could take a while.

Fleckner's still analyzing the video, so, uh...

So you're just gonna leave and do what?

Actually, I have plans... with Donnie.

Oh.

What do you mean, "Oh"?

Nothing.

Just you two have been getting along recently.

We're just having dinner. Don't read into it.

- I'm not reading into it. - It's just dinner, okay?!

Mm. Um, one...

- What? - Yeah.

- What's wrong? - I forgot to send an e-mail.

- E-mail? - Yep.

Kate.

Mm.

You remember saying you wanted a life outside of work?

Mm-hmm.

But, uh...

Okay. What's really going on?

Every time I...

Try to just let go, I can't.

What if we go down this road again, and you...

I won't.

I will never make another mistake like that again.

I want to know what happened between you and Ashley.

I want the full story.

I thought you said you didn't want details.

Maybe it would help me... I don't know... move on.

Okay.

What do you want to know?

How many times?

Once.

Were there other women?

No!

Don't act like you're shocked that I asked.

You did sleep with my best friend, so...

It was only Ashley. It was only once.

And it was the stupidest thing I have ever done.

Hmm.

Where are you going?

I don't blame you for asking,

but you got to admit, it's kind of a mood killer.

Maybe we can pick this up another time?

I want to talk.

I wish I knew what to say here.

I still haven't forgiven myself.

I don't know how you could possibly...

How many times did you sleep with Donnie?

Once.

How could you?

I've asked myself that a million times.

After Brian dumped me,

I was really lonely and insecure.

I was crashing on your couch.

I just felt so pathetic.

So you thought

you'd just make yourself feel a little better

by sleeping with my husband?

Donnie and I were alone a lot.

You were at work all the time.

The night we, uh, you know, uh...

He had made a big, romantic dinner for you.

I went to O'Neill's to give you guys privacy,

had a few drinks, and when I got back,

Donnie was drunk, too,

and alone.

He said you blew him off,

said you were married to your job.

And we talked for a long time, and then it just happened.

I wish more than anything that it hadn't.

- If I could take it back... - But you can't.

Congolese Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba,

General Ahmed Dlimi of Morocco, René Schneider.

Do you have any idea

how many people the CIA has illegally killed?

Allegedly, doc.

This is a conspiracy website.

Just because it's on the Internet doesn't make it true.

Dr. Pierce's residence.

Put Pierce on the phone.

May I ask who's calling?

No, just get him on the phone.

All right. Uh, doc?

Hello?

Arrow Coffee Shop on Elm Avenue.

10 minutes.

Sit in the back booth, face the wall, come alone.

Uh, w-w-what about Agent Moretti?

My information is sensitive.

It's hard enough just trusting you.

Hello, Dr. Pierce.

Did Cobra's handler send you?

No.

Do you have a light?

Natalie.

My name is Natasha.

Why are you here?

To warn you, Daniel.

There are secrets in the shadows.

Don't turn around, Dr. Pierce.

Do you know where Cobra is?

He's off the grid. It's way too hot right now.

Because of what he told Fred about the CIA assassinations?

No. It's much bigger now.

I assume you know about botulinum.

It's an incredibly lethal neurotoxin.

Cobra found out that the White Horizon Neo-Nazis

are gonna use it to hit the Chicago transit system.

Payback for Zalesky's assassination.

But even a small amount in the ventilation system...

And hundreds of people die.

I'm trusting you

to take this information to the authorities.

Since the CIA burned Cobra,

he's no longer a credible source.

Lives are in your hands, Dr. Pierce.

Local hospitals are on alert.

Now, if there is widespread exposure to this toxin,

we're talking about...

Uh, 36 hours for symptoms to present.

I-it shuts down brain activity,

causing rapid paralysis and respiratory failure.

We're looking for a powdery substance

in a hermetically sealed container.

As far as I'm concerned,

your men can search every bag in the subway.

Okay.

Meanwhile, we'll be rounding up some of these fine citizens.

I got a team of A-USAs on standby...

arrest warrants, search warrants, anything you need.

Great. All right, let's shut down these trains.

What the hell, Jack? You've got half of Illinois

mobilized for a bio-attack,

and you don't loop in the agency?

- You didn't get a call? - We didn't.

We didn't see any chatter on this, either,

- so who's your source? - That's classified!

Um, I have an operation to run here, John.

Moretti will catch you up.

Whatever happened

to interagency cooperation, Jack?

We only cooperate with agencies

t-that don't assassinate people on American soil.

I've had just about enough of you!

Our government dollars at...

The source is a low-level white supremacist

named Tim Lipsky... L-i-p-s-k-y.

Thank you!

Tim Lipsky?

He doesn't exist.

Nice.

That should keep him busy for a while.

Not that I have to justify anything to you,

but intelligence assessment is what the CIA does.

And when you cut us out,

you compromise the safety of American citizens.

Oh, really? Really?

Was the CIA concerned with Nicolai Zalesky's safety

when they took him out?

We didn't kill Nicolai Zalesky. He died of a heart attack.

Right, the kind of heart attack you get

when you're shot in the leg with a Succinylcholine dart.

Meanwhile, Fred Kleinman gets a bullet between the eyes.

That's your... that's your version of humane?

I got news for you, Dr. Pierce.

There was nobody on the grassy knoll,

there are no aliens in Area 51,

and the CIA did not assassinate Nicolai Zalesky

or your friend.

Daniel? A word?

I never said anything about aliens.

What is it?

Fleckner enhanced the Zalesky video.

We lose a little resolution when we zoom in,

but check this out.

Ka-bam... direct linkage to the DMV database.

30 possible matches. Could be worse.

She denies the brilliance because she likes me.

Could you g-go back to the full frame?

Sure.

That bird... that wasn't there before.

No, no, it was there.

You just didn't see it

'cause it was hidden in a shadow until I enhanced the frame.

When did Zalesky die?

December 11th, last year.

- Oh, this isn't right. - What is it?

The bird on the sidewalk is a swallow.

They're all over Chicago in warm weather,

but they fly south for the winter.

It wouldn't be there in December.

This must have been shot in summer or fall.

That's impossible.

Unless...

Unless it was staged.

Or maybe the bird decided

to take a staycation for the holidays.

Swallows don't just decide that.

T-their birds are hardwired to fly to San Juan Capistrano.

There's no evidence of doctoring here.

I say this video is legit.

Look, maybe it would help if we knew

exactly where this video came from.

Now, we know that Zalesky died

on the corner of Dempsey and Union.

Let's take a ride.

Hi. Can I help you folks?

Yeah.

Special Agent Moretti, FBI.

You guys have a security system here?

Uh, well, that would be big Mike.

Of course, I use the term

"Security" and "System" loosely.

You know, for a spy, you're not exactly inconspicuous.

And you're only looking at what's in front of you.

A spy understands what's behind what he sees.

You're a hallucination.

The only thing behind you is my disorder.

Look again.

Kate.

What is it?

Look at the hand sanitizer.

"Cleen Handz."

The name of the operation that targeted Zalesky.

Hey. Look at this.

You have got to be kidding me.

"Grayhawk."

The handler's authentication code.

And here's Roger Lemke, department of agriculture.

He's not Cobra's buddy. He's just a name on the wall.

The whole thing was a total fraud.

The security video you're talking about,

that's got to be Greggie's movie.

Who's Greggie?

Uh, Greg Palmer, one of my regulars.

He makes movies?

No, no, no. He works security at Oak Glen Mall.

But I think he had some sort of a black-ops job.

He had a whole story for how the CIA offed Zalesky...

real detailed James Bond stuff.

Then a few months later, he comes running in here, all excited,

and says he wants to shoot this movie script he wrote.

Let me guess... about a CIA operative named Cobra

who's ordered to kill American citizens

and has a crisis of conscience.

Oh, so you know the story?

Yeah, we're familiar with it.

- Hey, Gus. Can I get your help? - Excuse me.

I believed it all, Kate.

Look, he fooled all of us... you, Fred, the FBI.

Yeah, but I wanted it to be true.

Because then I wouldn't be just another paranoid nutjob.

God, I could have warned Fred. He'd still be alive.

We don't know that.

We don't even know why he was killed.

Warning him might not have changed anything.

Maybe he already knew.

He tried to get in touch with us

just before he got killed,

and maybe he figured out the truth about Cobra

after he sent me that letter

and somebody got to him before we could.

Greg Palmer is a pathological liar.

And, we believe, a murderer.

Who convinced an award-winning journalist

and half the FBI that he works for the CIA.

Will you kindly tell me how the hell this is possible?!

It's... i-i-it's neurological.

I-I-I'm guessing if we scan Palmer's brain,

we'd find decreased connectivity in his corpus callosum,

which may account for his exceptional creative skills,

but at the same time,

significant dysfunction in paralimbic structures,

suggesting a-a-a level of... of moral restraint that I...

You're not helping.

Sir, we believe that the handler was Palmer, too.

He never expected us to actually call him,

so he invented the handler to cover his tracks.

You paint a guy like Palmer into a corner,

a-and instead of admitting the truth,

he'll just escalate the lie, making it more grandiose.

Which is why Palmer's next move was to invent the idea

of a botulinum attack on the transit system.

A scenario he knew would be the perfect hook

for a crazy neuroscientist.

Nothing you've told me conclusively proves

that a botulinum attack isn't imminent.

Well...

C-Cobra... Cobra is a fiction.

The whole thing is a lie.

No source is 100% reliable.

Sir, we're pretty certain that there's no...

the FBI owes it to our citizens

to respond swiftly and comprehensively

to every potential threat.

Nod your heads if you understand what I'm getting at.

But if I were responsible for this particular boondoggle

with the transit system on lockdown

and cops searching people first and asking questions later...

I would bring in the son of a bitch who fooled me.

Authentication.

Grayhawk.

Go ahead.

It's Pierce. We... we, uh, have a situation.

What kind of situation?

Cobra's intel led us to a-a Chicago transit employee

named Tim Lipsky.

He's an HVAC operator with ties to the White Horizon.

FBI made a covert entry into his apartment.

No botulinum, but they did find precursor chemicals

for sarin gas... he was planning an attack.

Well, I'll tell Cobra his intel paid off.

Problem is, Lipsky's not talking,

and it's doubtful he's a lone operator.

We're concerned that the threat may not be fully...

Neutralized.

We're hoping that Cobra can help us break this guy

since he knows the terror cell better than anybody.

That's too risky.

The CIA... won't be a problem.

They're out of the loop.

If Cobra will help us interrogate Lipsky,

we'll ensure he gets in and out here without any trouble.

He has my word.

Cobra?

Let's not worry about names.

Where's the suspect?

You hungry?

Thirsty maybe?

Want some water?

What did we miss?

He's softening Fleckner up.

You know, I'm looking in your eyes, Tim.

And I see someone who's scared.

Someone who knows he's made mistakes.

Palmer must have read

a lot of Tom Clancy and soldier of fortune.

Yeah, he's pretty good.

Do you know what else I see, Tim?

I see a human being.

I don't see a killer.

So, what exactly is the point of this piece of theater?

Guys like Palmer, they have a deep-seated desire

for a more heightened experience,

so we're giving it to him.

You don't want

the blood of innocents on your hands, believe me.

You don't want their faces in your nightmares.

That doesn't have to happen, friend.

Just write down the names of the others.

Lay down your burden.

All right, you're coming with me.

Hmm.

I, um...

I think she's a little jealous.

Not a competition.

End of the day, we're all on the same team.

Yeah, clearly, some players are more valuable than others.

Thing about people with secrets is,

there's always a part of them that needs to talk.

Just got to tap into it.

Right, I guess t-that's why

you were talking to Fred Kleinman.

How do you know that?

Oh. Fred was a good friend of mine.

I'm sorry.

What the agency did to him...

I can't help but blame myself.

Somebody had to tell the truth.

I-I can't imagine

the toll it must have taken on you, working for them.

I knew what I was signing up for.

I'm not talking about the guilt.

It's the secrets,

t-the stress of having to lie all the time.

Well, if you're not careful,

I mean, the line between fiction and nonfiction,

- it gets blurry. - Right.

I mean, one moment, you're a... you're a spy for the CIA,

and the next,

you're a security guard at Oak Park Mall.

You know my cover?

That's not your cover, Greg. It's who you really are.

You're 41 years old.

You've never actually been out of the country.

You don't even have a passport.

Daisy's worried sick about you, by the way.

S-she... she really believes

you're this close to being offed by the CIA.

You leave Daisy out of it.

She's already in it, Greg.

How many sleepless nights

have you put her through at home, alone,

wondering where you are, imagining the worst when...

when really you're at the bar

or at the mall

spinning your secret-agent nonsense?

She loves you, Greg. She deserves the truth.

She wouldn't love me

if she found out who I really was.

Fred Kleinman found out who you really are.

Is that why you killed him?

Tell the truth for once in your life!

He said he had proof. And I was a fraud.

He was gonna expose me to the world.

I would have been a laughingstock.

Daisy would have found out her whole life was a lie.

I went to Fred's office just to talk him out of it.

But he was angry, said he didn't want to talk.

I felt bad that I lied.

I just kept thinking about Daisy.

I couldn't let her suffer

the consequences of what I'd done.

So I shot him.

Impressive, Dr. Pierce.

Yeah.

Except that everything that guy just said is complete bullshit.

You have news about Cobra?

Yes, we found him. He's okay.

Thank God.

Where is he? Can I see him?

Not just yet.

Cobra... uh, Greg Palmer has confessed

to the murder of Fred Kleinman.

He... he... he what?

He confessed to everything.

Of course, that was just part of a bigger lie, wasn't it?

You said that he would do

anything it took to protect you, no matter what the cost.

It was me.

I killed Fred Kleinman.

He was gonna go public

with information that would have gotten Greg killed.

What information?

It was the file

from that stupid PI My parents hired.

They got it in their head that's Greg's a liar.

So a few months ago, they hired some idiot

to follow Greg around and get proof.

Which ended up being some pictures

of Greg drinking in a bar

when he was supposed to be on assignment...

that and some medical records that said

the scar from Greg's old bullet wound

was actually from a mole removal.

Of course that's what the medical records say!

That's the whole point of a cover!

But there was no convincing my parents.

So the other day, they started in on me,

and I told them Fred Kleinman's doing

a big article on Greg being a national hero.

And they were gonna have to eat their words.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Because then they called Kleinman.

And then Kleinman called the house,

and now he was convinced

that Greg was a fraud and a liar, too,

and he was gonna write about that.

Greg was on assignment. He couldn't defend himself.

So I had to handle it.

I begged Kleinman to let it go, but he wouldn't.

Said it wasn't the story he set out to write,

but that it would make a fascinating character study,

how a nobody fooled

an award-winning investigative journalist.

He gave me no choice.

All Fred was gonna do was write a story about a liar.

You killed a completely innocent man.

Greg... isn't... a liar!

He is a national security asset!

If Kleinman had publicly revealed Greg's identity,

Greg would have been tortured and killed!

There is nothing innocent about that.

Got to be some reason she's so incapable of seeing the truth.

Worst psychiatric disorder of all.

Love?

Yep.

Look, I wanted to tell you, I, um...

I had a drink with Ashley.

Really?

Why?

Wanted to talk to her about what happened that night.

I thought we had talked about that night.

We did. I just wanted to...

Wanted to check my story against hers.

I'm an investigator, okay?

It's a habit.

And I love that about you.

I just don't love being the one getting investigated.

I know.

And some of what happened...

That was my fault.

I mean, I should have spent less time on work and...

more time with you.

But?

But...

My crappy behavior wasn't permission

for you to sleep with her.

And you still can't let it go.

Dr. Pierce.

Agent Taylor.

Didn't mean to startle you.

Then don't sneak up on me in a dark hallway.

What are you doing here?

The agency was very impressed

with the way you brought Palmer and his girlfriend in.

You've piqued our interest, Dr. Pierce.

Now, I'm sure you know

that the CIA has a long history of working with academia.

Perhaps we'll meet again.

There's nothing worse than a liar.

We all feel that way, right? But why?

Why do we take such exception

to somebody pulling the wool over our eyes?

'Cause it feels lousy.

Literally.

Disbelief gets processed by the limbic system's

cingulate cortex and the anterior insula...

the same parts of the brain that report

visceral sensations like pain and disgust.

This not only explains why we hate liars

but why we as human beings long for something to believe in.

Whether it be Santa Claus

or a scientific fact like gravity,

our brains reward us emotionally when we believe.

To believe is to feel good.

To feel comforted.

But how can we trust our own belief systems

when our brains are giving them emotional kickbacks?

By balancing it all with critical thinking,

by questioning everything, and by always, always...

being open to the possibilities.

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull www.MY-SUBS.com