Original subtitles

My name is Walter O'Brien.

I have the fourth highest IQ ever recorded: 197.

Einstein's was 160.

When I was 11, the FBI arrested me for hacking NASA

to get their blueprints for my bedroom wall.

Now I run a team of geniuses,

tackling worldwide threats

only we can solve.

Toby's our behaviorist.

Sylvester's a human calculator.

Happy, a mechanical prodigy.

Agent Cabe Gallo's our government handler.

And Paige? Well, Paige isn't like us.

She's normal and translates the world for us

while we help her understand her genius son.

Together, we are Scorpion.

I'm just saying, I don't think it's cheating.

Reverse it. Put her in the same situation.

Is it cheating now?

Damn.

It is cheating.

That's what I'm saying.

Bluehawk's a go! Code confirmed.

Target...

target sequence confirmed!

What the hell, man?

We never even got a message order!

SAC, this is Silo 61.

We got birds ready to leave the nest.

Is this coming from you?

Time sequence complete.

Missiles One through Five enabling sequence commenced!

I don't care if wasn't unauthorized!

The damn system here thinks it is.

Six through Ten commenced!

I can't override!

SAC, we need a solution now.

Someone's about to prep our missiles for launch.

♪ ♪

If he gets this strike,

Tobias Curtis, the kid from Coney Island,

will win the PBA championship

with a stunning perfect game.

Today, Earl Anthony.

How the hell do you know who Earl Anthony is?

You're, like, 20.

22. Now go.

40 feet from glory.

Ah, ah, ah...!

Ah...!

Aah!

Oh, my appendix.

You impressed?

Uh, Doc? Glory denied.

No. No, no, no.

That box

is holding it up.

All pins must fall. Dem's da rules.

I call shenanigans and tomfoolery.

What is that?

Just something I've been working on.

It's cold, hard metal, but it's somehow

so delicate and... so beautiful.

Show is over.

Andrew.

It's Drew, actually.

Right.

Drew's short for what? Michael?

Hey.

Ralph's in the back. Before we get him,

I, um, I want to show you something.

What's up?

I picked this up when I was

trying out for the Portland Sea Dogs.

It's a school for gifted children.

Uh, why are you showing this to me?

I never said I was moving to Portland.

I know. Of course.

I just... I meant it when I said

I wanted to provide options for you and Ralph.

I want you to push me down the ramp this time, Sylvester!

More normal options.

I-I'm not trying to push you.

I just wanted you to have

as much data as possible,

so that you can make an informed decision...

if and when I get the call to pitch. Okay.

I'll take a look at it.

If that wasn't clamped down,

it would've gone right through that wall.

Cool!

School time, pal.

Okay. Enjoy the science fair, buddy.

Is there some rule against baking soda volcanoes?

No, it's the go-to

for parents that can't think of

anything more stimulating.

O... Kay!

Drew, he can't be late.

And you, good luck.

There's, uh, no such thing as luck,

only good science and math.

You could be nicer.

He wants Ralph to enter

a project made of...

...papier-mâché and baking ingredients.

What is that?

"The Andersen P. Wollock School for Gifted Children.

Portland, Maine."

It's just... Drew thought, for Ralph...

It's super preliminary, I'm just...

I'm just doing my research.

Right.

I mean, the odds of us ever moving...

This is where our life is.

But a special school... could be good for Ralph.

What do you think?

Portland is cold.

That's it? And wet.

There's a slight chance we might be moving there,

and that's all you have to say on the matter?

You don't want to hear my thoughts on the matter.

Really?

No, I... I think I do.

I think there's no logical reason

why you should be taking that boy

3,000 miles away from his home.

No logical reason?

What about the fact his dad might move there

and I think two parents might benefit Ralph?

Well, what daytime talk show did you hear that on?

Most people would take that as an insult, Walter,

but I know you don't communicate like normal people,

so I'm going to give you a pass.

But I also know that you didn't have

an ideal relationship with your father,

but that doesn't mean

Ralph shouldn't have a chance.

Drew is an adolescent.

He plays a game for a living.

He's Ralph's dad!

That is mere biology.

It takes more than fathering to be a father.

By the time Ralph is 18,

he'll probably have to take care of Drew.

You asked me for my thoughts on the matter.

I gave them to you.

Fine.

Hey!

How come a bunch of geniuses can't answer the phone?

I don't carry my phone on me.

You know... Radiation.

I was welding. Mine's in my bag.

Couldn't hear it over the rocket.

Of course.

What about you, Doc?

I keep mine off. I owe a bookie.

Turn it on.

Now gear up.

Director Merrick wants us at Homeland, stat.

Let's roll.

There was an attempted hack

of a vital federal institution yesterday morning.

Unsuccessful but barely.

Our techs have been trying to find the perpetrators,

along with CIA and FBI,

but we want your expertise.

What federal institution? That's need-to-know.

Was it one facility or multiple targets?

That's need-to-know. I need to know

why you're being so jerky.

Zip it.

We have half a hack here.

The redactions on this screen-shot

cut off data that would

let us know what the culprit was going after.

Not your concern.

I just need you to backtrack

and find out who's responsible.

Rest is classified.

Cabe, do you know what's going on?

I do, but I'm not at liberty to divulge.

Just start hitting the keys and see what you find out.

Sure thing.

There.

- That's better. - Hey!

What the hell do you think you're...?

Hold on, this is military.

Someone was trying to hack a nuclear silo.

That's enough. Horse is already out of the barn, sir.

Okay. Fine. Now you know.

Hey, you spoke before exhaling.

That's called subliminal Carson-Proxy.

You withhold breath, you withhold information.

What else are you keeping from us?

Missile locations are coded one through 50

to signify what state it's in.

However, the un-redacted

cipertext notes 61.

There's not 61 states, which means that...

We keep secret nukes on foreign land.

It's logical.

Our allies want protection,

we want weaponry close to our enemies.

Oh, let me guess: uh, Philippines...

Finland... Iceland...

He blinked at Iceland.

Iceland.

So...

how much time do we want to waste

before you tell us what we'll just figure out?

16 years ago, Milosevic had his sights on Kosovo.

The U.S. had to step in to prevent a slaughter.

But because of political reasons, we knew we had to do

this one OTR. On The Real?

Off The Record.

Clinton met with

the Kosovan president secretly

to set up plans for military aid far beyond what went public.

This is a clandestine sit-down

at a small Burbank motel.

This is confiscated security footage from that day.

The shooter tried to take out both leaders.

The hit was presumably by Milosevic loyalists

in the Kosovan government

who spilled the beans about the OTR.

Hold on. There was an attempt

on Clinton no one knows about?

Actually, 28 people know.

Now, 33.

During the melee, Clinton was whisked off,

a Kosovan guard was killed

and a Secret Service agent, Bruce Jones,

who was carrying the football,

was shot in the chest.

And then it went missing?

Not good. What's "the football"?

It's a briefcase that follows POTUS everywhere.

It's cuffed to the Secret Service.

It has the locations of our

hidden silos around the world

and a detonator the president can use

to activate a remote launch.

Doctors had to remove

the case from Bruce's wrist to operate.

What did they do with it?

Deposed medical staff said they put it on the ground

next to the gurney while they were triaging the patient.

So if someone took the football,

they would have the detonator and launch codes.

Codes were changed immediately,

but the location of our hidden arsenal

would remain in the hands

of whoever had possession of the football.

Our theory was that

the shooting served as a subterfuge

to get to the football.

But years passed without incident.

So we assumed it was lost,

tossed away accidentally in all the disorder.

Until this hack attempt.

Whoever has it...

has waited 16 years for their capabilities

to advance to where they could hack into the system

and dupe it into believing

accurate launch codes had been entered.

They came so close today.

They won't be denied,

because they know the devastation they can cause.

Once a missile's prepped for launch,

all that's left is to press the football's remote button.

No one can track this back to the terrorists in time.

Not even us.

So the only shot is to find the football,

so even if they do hack

a missile silo, they won't have access to the launch button.

It's been 16 years.

What makes you think that we can find the football now?

Well, Mr. Negative... for starters, you have a witness.

That agent who caught a bullet.

According to this report,

it says he saw "shapes of people running around the hospital"

before going under for surgery.

And that helps us how?

It's a sign that there's a memory in there.

You never lose memories,

just the ability to access them.

Did you go to Harvard Medical School?

Okay. Let's go.

Eh, don't forget your keys, boss.

Nice catch.

How do you stand working with them?

They're an acquired taste.

Despite him looking normal,

you need to be prepared.

His symptoms are like those of dementia--

confusion, short-term and long-term memory loss,

outbursts, anti-social behavior, aggression...

I can't blame the guy.

He's former military,

charged with protecting the president--

now he lives here?

Get out of here, lady!

Oh, my God.

He's in a mood today.

That better be pudding.

What do you jerks want?

Copy that.

NORAD's detected an ongoing hack attempt right now.

How's hacking Bruce's brain going?

Well, Toby's tried hierarchal inference techniques,

recall exercises--

He's down to parlor tricks now.

Counting down.

Three, two, one.

We're awake.

You're back at the hospital.

The shooting just happened.

Images around you are getting clearer.

There's people near the football.

Now tell me what you see.

I... see...

...you got lips like a girl.

That's it, I'm done with this guy.

Let me hit him with a wrench.

Maybe it'll jar something loose.

Take it easy.

He's sick.

Bruce, you said you'd try to remember.

What do you remember, Pops, the Alamo?

I'm starting to like Happy's plan.

I got to go, I got a briefing with Clinton in an hour.

Walter, this is cruel.

He still thinks he's in Secret Service.

Exactly.

That means he still has access to that time in his life.

And there might be a way to get him more lucid

to remember it all, but it is... it is dangerous.

More dangerous than a nuclear bomb?

The research that I have been doing for my sister has led me

to some incredible papers on extreme transcranial

direct current stimulation.

You want to juice the guy?

What do you mean, "juice him"?

Apply this high-level electric current

to certain areas of his brain to kick it

to a substantially higher function level.

It makes people, for a few hours,

a much better version of themselves--

their brains more genius-like--

works faster-- and so do their bodies.

If there is a memory inside Bruce that can help us,

it might help to give it

a little... jolt.

I don't think Mr. Jones is in any condition

for something like that.

You look like my Aunt Philomena.

Take me home.

What if one of us goes first,

to show you it's safe?

Bruce, you are a patriot.

We're trying to catch terrorists.

Okay, great-- Toby, I'll go first.

Hell, no.

Your neurons are packed so densely,

they could permanently fuse.

Then jump-start me.

This is effectively experimental

and definitely reckless,

especially to someone in Bruce's condition and to you.

We have no choice.

There's a nuclear silo under cyber-attack.

Finding the football is the only shot to stop a launch.

So wire me up.

Is that a car battery?

It's AAA approved, so if we kill you,

you get a free tow to the morgue.

Okay,

these electrodes will cause

your neurons' resting membrane potential to depolarize,

which allows for spontaneous cell firing.

In short, your brain is gonna work better.

Or not at all.

All right, we're ready, so here we go.

Happy?

I'm not turning this thing on.

It could end up being a criminal act.

You're the mechanic. You're the doctor.

Oh, for Pete's sake.

Remind me not to put you

in charge of my living will.

O-O-Okay.

I am gonna turn you up...

now.

Somebody should be saying this is crazy, right?

'Cause it is.

Gonna start you at 500 milliamps.

Yep, yep.

Feel that.

Sorry.

It was just a tingle, it's all right.

Now I'm gonna charge you up to 1,200.

Okay, I think that's been long enough.

You okay?

Yeah, there's a buzzing in my head,

and there's a taste of metal in my mouth.

Yeah, those are normal side effects.

Nothing normal about this.

All right, I'm gonna slowly dial you down now.

Well, Bruce,

the good news is--

I'm alive.

The bad news is-- it didn't do anything.

Cabe, think fast.

Welcome to us.

♪ Scorpion 1x15 ♪ Forget Me Nots Original Air Date on January 19, 2015

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

You're wheeled in on a gurney.

Triage nurses are barking orders.

One line of saline, wide open!

Remove this case for me so I can get the I.V. in.

Then they remove the football to run an arterial line.

Little bit sluggish. Let's get him on the monitor.

Someone picked it up.

Hey, don't cut off the juice, yet.

You're just starting to see stuff.

Any more than that in a three-day period could be fatal,

especially for him.

What exactly did you see?

I saw a man...

w-with a blue finger.

Regular hand, b-but...

one blue finger.

Like "my pen exploded in my hand" blue,

or like Papa Smurf blue?

I don't know, Cupcake, it was, uh, it was blue.

Bluish.

I didn't see his face.

There's too much stuff coming at me.

What the hell did you guys do to me?

Mapplethorpe?

Wait, uh, what's that supposed to mean?

Was it... Was there a Mapplethorpe print

on the wall? Near the thief?

I don't know.

I'm so confused.

The procedure can cause neural backfires,

these quick memory flashes, visuals, sounds--

it might be more intense for someone with your condition.

Give it time.

Okay, leave him alone for a beat.

Why don't you come over here.

What the hell does he mean, a guy with one blue finger?

Well, it's probably not a glove design.

It was 70 degrees the day of the shooting.

No one was wearing hand gear.

According to the report Merrick showed us,

there were eight Kosovan bodyguards,

eight Secret Service, two presidents,

so almost 20 people running around, diving.

So in the mad scramble after the shooting,

someone might have hurt their hand.

A bruised or broken finger could appear discolored.

We need to see the hospital records from that day.

If someone got a busted finger

and got medical treatment, that's our guy.

Since this was an OTR, that would mean

all the hospital records would have been confiscated

by the Feds, but we'd still have copies at Homeland.

Paige, you stay here, make sure he's okay.

Happy, you're the toughest on the team.

You hang back in case Bruce gets worked up again.

Let's go.

What, these are all off-the-record maneuvers

no one knows about?

We don't digitize it

so guys like you can hack in.

I hate government.

Then don't cash your federal paycheck.

Knee fractures, forearm abrasions,

head sutures, no hand injuries.

Merrick texted.

NORAD estimates that the hackers will be in control

of the silo's mainframe in less than two hours.

Um, Cabe...

if the hackers do end up

launching, like, a bunch of missiles,

will we, you know, get a heads up?

Because I got to figure that L.A. is a target,

and I would not fare well in an apocalypse.

This is weird.

Secret Service Agent Khara was given

nitroglycerin for a preexisting heart condition

aggravated by the shooting incident.

Yeah, that's protocol for cardiac episodes.

Yes, but people with heart conditions can't be

in the Secret Service, so why'd he lie to his doctor?

Think I know. Where you going?

I can find out if Agent Khara's our thief.

I just need a bucket of ice water.

So what's it take for a guy

to get something to eat around here?

Thanks, honey.

I know he's sick, but if he calls me "honey" again,

I am gonna clock him.

Take a breath.

You and, uh, Drew are moving to Portland?

Toby eavesdropped again.

No opinion on the matter?

Well, Portland's cold.

That i...

Th-That is the same useless information Walter gave me.

Okay, facts aren't useless.

They're the foundation of rational thought.

And I think Ralph will be bored there.

Uh, well, you know, I think...

I think you geniuses hide behind

a pile of facts and figures

when you don't want to engage in something...

unpleasant, like the idea of Ralph and me leaving.

The more something bothers or scares you,

the more you hide behind data.

Your sandwich is ready.

Good talk.

Bruce?

Bruce...?

Uh, Happy...

we may have a problem.

What's going on?

He's gone.

You lost him?

I was making a sandwich.

Where is this guy? I gotta go.

What?!

Go where?

Dodge City, Kansas.

To the bathroom. I got my hand in ice water.

That only works with warm water.

I'm about to disprove that myth all over your leather interior.

Homeland tracked the guy's cell to this block.

He'll turn up soon, just be patient.

Wow.

Colors are so vibrant.

That's because the recharge we gave you

has the electrical impulses hitting the visual cortex

of your brain faster than it has in decades.

Oh. Oh, oh, oh, there he is, there he is.

Hey, hold this.

Hey, Nalin!

Nalin Khara, right?

Hey, it's Tobias Curtis.

I worked with your brother back in DC.

Hi. Hey.

What are you doing?

I'm dropping your hand temperature.

Let go. No...

Let go of my hand. - No. Let go of my hand!

Cabe! Cabe! Let go of my hand!

Agent Gallo, Homeland Security.

Let this man hold your hand.

What the hell?

Don't worry, it doesn't mean we're going steady.

And...

Oop, we're done.

What's wrong with you, man?

More like, what's wrong with you?

You got Raynaud's phenomenon.

Vessel spasms that constrict blood flow to a digit,

creating that blue hue...

that's triggered by direct cold and stressful situations.

Like stealing a very important briefcase.

Your condition was set off, you got some nitroglycerin,

and then you stole the football.

We caught you, pal.

Blue-handed. Seriously?

Been waiting an hour to say that, Sly, shut up.

Okay, I will tell you everything.

But you need to understand...

Hey, hey, hey!

Holy friggin' crap.

His motor neurons are firing on all cylinders from the juice.

It's like he's 25 again.

Whatever you did to my brain...

it worked.

Question I keep going back to is:

why would a Secret Service agent

with a perfect record

steal the football?

So, I did some digging into someone

we never even considered 16 years ago.

At the time of the assassination attempt,

you still had family in Pakistan:

grandmother, two uncles, despite having no priors,

were locked up as political dissidents

and facing death.

Then, in the months after the football went missing,

charges were dropped.

Someone found the weakness

in a Secret Service agent,

targeted you,

and made you do their bidding.

Am I missing anything?

I've got the Pentagon

breathing down my neck for updates,

and the only lead we got to stop nuclear winter isn't talking.

And he won't. He's motivated to protect his family.

If whoever's behind these attacks

finds out he cooperated, they're dead.

I need you to dig into your bag of tricks, Walter.

We need to find a way to crack him.

No luck at the pizza place.

You?

Zilch.

Where do you go if you're a former agent

who just got his brain blasted?

Hey, Walt.

Bruce?

Yeah, get him together and meet us at Whitehull Hospital.

- I have an idea. And hurry. - Okay.

You didn't tell him about Bruce.

I kind of want to keep my job.

We're screwed.

This realty sign...

"17 Maplethorpe Road."

Isn't Maplethorpe...?

What Bruce was mumbling about after we juiced him.

He wasn't talking about art,

he was telling us where he wanted to go.

I'll drive!

That was terrifying.

I'm never letting you drive my car again.

I found him, didn't I?

What the hell...?

Already told you, sir.

No one named Lorraine lives here.

Hey... It's okay.

He's with us. Take your damn hands off me.

It's all right, Bruce.

Let's take a walk and get a breath.

Look, he means no harm.

He just doesn't know where he is sometimes-- he's sick.

I'm not sick at all... right now.

I just thought she'd be here, that's all.

That's why you duped us and ran away?

To see a girl?

It's none of your damn business.

Doesn't matter, anyway.

She's gone... again.

Who?

Look, I'm grateful that I got my mind back, okay?

Short-lived though it may be.

I just wish some of my memories had stayed gone, I guess.

Which memories?

Who were you looking for here?

Her name is Lorraine.

She was a White House secretary.

I liked her.

I loved her.

I didn't want her to see me become what I am,

so I... I asked 'em

if I could take my treatment out here in Los Angeles,

and I, uh...

I left without saying a word.

I heard she moved out here some time back.

I never checked up, but, uh...

now that some of my memories are coming back...

it's like it's happening to me all over again.

It's as... painful as it was the first time.

Just take me home, okay? Please?

About that...

The magnetoencephalography machine

will map when your memories are activated.

Almost set.

Can you guys tell me what the emergency is?

Like, um, is this guy a spy or something?

That's need-to-know.

Y-You know, this-this isn't going to work, guys.

I've already told you everything I can recall.

No, I know, but sometimes

memories can be awoken with the proper stimulant.

All right, tell me, Bruce,

do you recognize this guy?

No.

Take a closer look...

...and try aging him down

about 16 years.

Khara?

Is that you?

I don't remember the last time I saw you.

The last time you saw him...

was when he stole the football, Bruce.

You son of a bitch.

You took it all from me.

You took my career,

you took my life!

You took her!

Focus on his hand, Bruce.

Focus-- allow your memories of that day to return.

You're in the hospital,

you're getting prepped for surgery...

One line of saline, wide open!

GSW to the torso!

Then a hand reached down and took that case.

It was Khara.

You saw him.

What happens now?

GSW to the torso!

I don't know.

Uh, y-yes, you do.

It's in there, Bruce.

He's not gonna tell us, so you need to.

I can't... I can't remember. I'm sorry.

The man doesn't know anything.

Just let him be and move on.

There's nothing any of us can do now.

It's done.

It's done.

What did you just say?

Bingo.

Okay, talk to me, Bruce.

Tell me, what did you remember?

GSW to the torso!

Little bit sluggish. Let's get him on the monitor.

He was leaving...

...then he called someone.

I heard him.

It's done.

Come on, focus, Bruce. What did you hear?

I heard sounds.

Uh-uh... tones.

Like tones from dialing a phone?

I think so.

Okay, hold that thought!

Bruce heard Khara place a call to his conspirator... then,

all we need to do

is reverse engineer the number he dialed

and that should lead us to whoever has the case.

How can you possibly identify

push-button tones 16 years later?

His memory's tucked away in a cranial fold somewhere.

Everything you read, see, or hear--

it's stored away, like in a computer,

and we just need to access that file.

Is all of this really necessary?

Sensory recreation stimuli

to get you back to the exact place you were

where the football was stolen.

Similar suit to what you were wearing,

hospital Muzak...

- What the hell? - Oh, it's iodine.

They used this to prep you for surgery.

The olfactory sense is the strongest memory trigger.

Since we juiced you, your temporal lobe

has just been itching to reminisce with us.

We just gotta goose it.

So, Bruce, close your eyes,

exhale...

...focus.

Assume Khara dialed local.

Cell phones weren't prevalent 16 years ago,

and he wasn't gonna overnight the football, so...

the most popular area codes in L.A. at the time were

323, 310, and 213.

GSW to the torso!

Little bit sluggish. Let's get him on the monitor.

Any of those sound familiar?

The first one.

323 it is.

Seven more mystery numbers to go.

No.

Concentrate on his phone... just the phone.

- GSW to the torso. - ...little bit sluggish.

Let's get him on the monitor.

Yes.

Yes.

That one.

No...

Yes.

323-248-8049.

We got it!

We just gotta find out who that number

belonged to 16 years ago.

I'm working on it.

Update!

Hackers are into the Icelandic silo.

The nuclear launch sequence

has been activated for a missile

aimed at St. Petersburg, Russia.

Right now, personnel are doing all they can

to stop the missiles. They will fail.

How long do we have?

T-minus 30 until ready for launch.

So, in 30 minutes, all the terrorists need to do

is push a button in a briefcase?

Why Russia? What's the endgame?

It's logical. It's brilliant. For decades,

terrorists have been fighting us,

getting knocked down, rebuilding,

then coming back at us.

But if a U.S. nuke hits a Russian city--

they're gonna sit back

and watch us destroy each other.

There's only one way to fix this.

Stop the bastards from ever pushing that button.

To do that, we need to know what that phone number leads to.

Got it! It belongs to a defunct non-profit

that takes care of poor Middle Eastern children.

Well, it's not the first time that a fake charity

has been used to launder money for a terrorist group.

This one's headed up by one Nadim Gadhi.

Last known address?

He's in a boathouse at the harbor.

19 minutes away. By the time we arrive,

we'll only have nine minutes

until the nukes are ready to go. We gotta move!

Cops are a few minutes out.

Walter, Bruce-- need you.

Toby, need you

in case Bruce has any issues.

The rest of you, remain alert.

You're the one who wanted me to keep my phone on.

Homeland! Freeze!

You all right? Fine. Let's go.

Game on!

Oh, God, she's driving again.

Happy, I'm not buckled. Just wait!

Wait till I'm buckled! I'm not buckled!

Happy, Happy, Happy! Safety first!

What did we talk about?

If we split up, we cover more ground.

All right. Okay.

Walter, you all right?

We got less than two minutes. We gotta get that case.

Homeland! Freeze!

Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon!

Put down the case.

Set down the case and step away from it!

Put down the case and step away from it!

No! No!

Toby, stop! It's electrified!

Best thing about America?

The trains always run on time.

In less than a minute, those nukes are ready to launch.

If that train runs over the case, the button will depress.

And millions will die.

All right, the fence is electrified.

We can't climb it.

Happy, where's the nearest junction box?

It's on the other side of the yard.

I'll never get there in time.

It's a quarter mile down and around the fence.

Normally, it would take less than two minutes

to get down there, but due to the speed of the train,

we only have 45 seconds, Walter!

I've got an idea!

What are you doing? There's no way

that magnet's strong enough to stop that train!

And that case is aluminum, it's not magnetic!

Of course! The track is lined with intermittent

shoe brakes that'll stop the train in case of an emergency.

It's activated by electromagnetic coils.

She's using the magnet to reverse polarities

and flip the switch!

Time's up-- missiles are ready for launch!

Uh...

You did it!

The launch sequence has been shut down and the feds

have tracked Gadhi's online communications.

Interpol's picking up his pals overseas as we speak.

Feel free to take a bow.

You all just saved the world.

And you took me out of the line of fire

like I was POTUS.

You're still a hell of an agent.

My orders are to dispose of this.

And we are to act like this never happened.

OTR.

O... T... R.

Do the honors.

I've been tough on you.

Go get 'em.

Let's see what you got.

Okay-okay, okay. Yeah!

Okay.

Okay...

That's it. Mm-hmm.

That felt good.

Sexy man!

All right, let's pack it up and head home.

Shotgun.

Come on.

You were pretty incredible today.

Only because you juiced my brain.

You know, I work out,

try to take care of myself.

It never crosses my mind I'm getting older.

But you never know how far you slipped down that mountain

till you look back up and see where you once were.

Enjoy your youth while you can, kid.

One day you'll blink...

you'll be me.

You know, I hate to spoil

your moment of self-reflection,

but what we did to you wore off hours ago.

Your heroics out here--

that was all you.

You don't say.

I protected the president once.

Thank you for allowing me

to feel useful again.

I wish I could say I wouldn't forget it, but, uh...

There's advancements in neurological science every year.

You never know.

Yes, I do.

And so do you.

Make as many great memories as you can.

'Cause at the end of the day,

we don't get to decide the ones we keep, huh?

Lorraine?!

H-How did you...?

We just found a terrorist after 16 years.

We can find a secretary.

She's a strong memory in you.

Maybe having her back in your life

will help you hold on a little more.

Well, I'm gonna try.

I'm gonna try like hell.

How about we hold off cleaning until tomorrow, huh?

I second that motion.

Hear, hear.

Thanks.

Crazy day, huh?

Crazy seems to be the norm.

That's an astute observation.

I, um... my assessment

of Portland, uh, was, um,

not the proper response for your query.

Oh.

Okay.

Yeah, I thought it might also be useful for you to know that

the University of Southern Maine also has,

um, solid research facilities--

not like UCLA, but solid--

so it might be good for Ralph.

Also they have oceanography clubs for minors.

Uh, average snowfall is 61 inches.

There are over 3,000...

uh, islands off the coast, so Ralph could explore,

and-and-and it also brings in 90% of the nation's lobster,

so, you know, crustaceans-- I'm sorry. Is this...

...funny?

No. It's just a lot of facts and figures.

Of course. I care about giving you

a complete answer to your question.

Oh, I know.

I know you care.

No. You know, I, um, I care about, um,

more than just you having the,

um, the facts and-and...

full statistics for Ralph. I, um...

I care about Ralph.

You were right.

I don't,

um, I never had a real

relationship with my father.

And I know I'm not Ralph's,

but I-I must serve...

a purpose in his life, because he serves

such an important, uh, one in mine,

and if he left, then, uh...

I-I know I said

being human wasn't

something I wanted.

But since I met your son,

I know that's not entirely true.

These last few months, I've been... less me.

And that's made me a better person.

So, no, I don't want him to leave.

I, uh...

care about him.

And you.

Those are the last facts that I have to say.

And, well, yeah, so, okay.

Walter?

Yeah?

I'd miss you, too.

Hey!

Look, Mom. Check it out!

Guess who won the science fair.

No way!

That's incredible!

And guess what.

Billy from class asked me to his birthday.

Can I go?

You were invited to a party?

Of course you can go.

Hey, what do you say we give this engine a kick?

I mean... unless you're in a rush to go?

No.

No, I don't want to go.

Okay, let's go.

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

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