Original subtitles

-[alarm blaring] -[gasps]

[beeping]

[speaking Spanish]

[rumbling]

[muffled explosion]

-[electrical crackling] -[grunts]

-[thud] -[gasps]

[alarm blaring]

Gideon, what is it?

[Gideon] I didn't sound the alarm. It was Mr. Rory, I believe.

Hey.

Sorry.

Oh. You're not used to my nighttime makeup.

I mean, no makeup.

Sorry to ruin the illusion. [sighs]

No, you, um…

You look just like her.

Oh.

You mean the other Zari.

Yeah.

I could change my hair if it would help.

Help what?

Whatever's happening down there.

-It's not my fault. -Mm.

-I was sleeping. -Yeah.

It's natural.

Whatever you say,

Steel.

[hip-hop music playing]

[Mick over speakers] Move your butts, people, need you on the bridge.

All right, all right. Got to finish my last set.

Is he doing all right, Gideon?

[Gideon] Mr. Tarazi asked me to formulate

an ingestible gelatinous cannaboid compound to help him sleep.

You make marijuana candy?

Sometimes I wonder if they're ever gonna let me back into Texas.

[Agent Sharpe yawns]

Rory, what time is it?

[Gideon] Technically, time doesn't exist in the temporal zone.

Thank you, Gideon. I mean it's early.

I got a hit on the alien that kidnapped Sara.

Why the hell didn't you wake me?

Um… Remember that sketch I drew, the, uh, squid face?

I thought it was chicken wings.

Well, Gideon helped me find this photo buried among some old KGB files.

A report about a crashed space alien.

It was redacted until Putin was ousted from power in 2044.

"Redacted, ousted"? Where are these words coming from?

I know words.

Look, uh, thanks for cleaning me up.

-[grunts] -Thank you.

Oh, you even smell nice.

Gang, great news. Rory got a lead on the alien that took Sara.

Hmm, shocking, honestly.

Hmm.

The pod we are looking for is picked up by military forces

at 0600 hours, sits en route as we speak.

The plan, rendezvous with it here.

Any questions?

En route, rendezvous…

[speaking French]

What?

This is great, Mick, but shouldn't Gideon do the coordinates?

[Mick] Already set, numbnuts.

Wait, shouldn't we stop by John's, pick up him and Astra?

-[thud] -[all exclaim]

Let's move, it's a two-klick hike through a thick jungle.

I love the intensity, but just a little heads-up would be nice.

[Spooner] Okay, hold up.

I thought this was a time machine.

Why not bring us back an hour earlier? Y'all can change out your PJs.

Oh, girl, we don't ask those questions.

[theme music playing]

Damn it, we forgot Behrad. What did I tell you

about the Legends buddy system?

That hippie burnout wouldn't want no part of this action.

Okay, Rory, what's the plan?

Cover me.

With what? I'm wearing slippers.

-[grunts] -[gunshots]

Commie son of a bitch tried to shoot me!

Is it it's a bad idea letting Rory run point?

Eh, we've had messier missions.

-[grunts] -[screams]

[men grunting]

[both] Let's go.

[screams]

[engine starts]

[Spooner] I'm in, let's go!

Why is everyone shooting?

Oh, they started it!

[Mick] Time to check on the loot.

We're not bank robbers, Rory.

Wouldn't guess it by our use of guns.

Right to bear arms, that is my Second Amendment privilege.

The right to tell you guns suck, that's my first.

We're not gonna shoot the alien. We're gonna talk to it.

What if it doesn't want to?

-Well, we roast it. -Okay, just open the crate, Rory.

Huh. This alien pod's different than the last one.

That's because it's not an alien pod.

It's a warhead from a Soviet SS-4 medium range ballistic missile.

Uh, Rory, where are we?

Uh, some island in the Caribbean.

Wouldn't happen to be Cuba, would it, Mick?

Tell me you didn't take us to 1962.

Why, what happened?

-Oh. -Oh!

You dropped us in the middle of the Cuban missile crisis.

-And helped us steal a nuke. -So?

This is the moment in history when Americans and Soviets

came to the brink of nuclear war. If we even sneeze--

Okay, nobody move. It could be Armageddon.

But we can still find the alien that'll help us find Sara.

You remembered to cloak the ship?

[telephone ringing]

Yes.

I see. Let him in.

Mr. President.

If this is about the missiles down in Cuba,

I've been briefed.

The nuke's the least of our problems.

These photographs were taken on the latest U-2 pass over Cuba.

[President Kennedy] What is that?

Mr. President, it would appear that the Soviets have a new bomber.

Gideon, what's the latest in D.C.?

[Gideon] JFK just called for an emergency meeting of his top advisers.

That's what I get for letting Rory run point in a Cold War.

-It's all good. -Is it?

JFK delivered a master class in diplomacy during the Cuban missile crisis.

How do I know this? Because I wrote my doctoral thesis on it.

-You want to go to Washington. -[accented English] With your permission,

-I'd love to throw the ball… -Lose the accent.

-Way to wear that suit. -Thank you.

Aw, thanks, girl.

What happened to your totem?

Oh. Old one clashed.

-You want to go to Washington. -Yes. I spent a lot of time on this.

Ah, morning, team. What did I miss?

Nate and Zari will make sure that JFK doesn't start World War III.

The rest are chasing down a displaced space alien in Cuba.

-Cool, I'll just be-- -Nah, you will just be with me.

Let's go. Come on.

Go see the Kennedys.

Good news, Captain, we found the pod.

It's on its way to Fidel Castro's not-so-secret bunker.

Wow. You found the alien using your powers?

No, CB radio.

[man speaks Spanish on radio]

[speaks Spanish]

Mm-hmm.

Right, easiest way in is here.

I'm guessing four guards.

-We blow the place to-- -Okay, I'll take it from here.

They won't let you walk through the door.

It's exactly what they're gonna do.

-Let's go. Come with me. -Why do you keep grabbing me?

Look, Captain, authoritarian leaders, secret bunkers, nuclear missiles.

I'm not feeling the energy of this mission.

Too bad, I need your energy. Can't afford starting a nuclear war.

Hey, I'm just trying to help you find your girlfriend.

Help me by getting the missile back to the people that we stole it from.

-Wait, the Russians? -Defeats the purpose of stealing.

Our job is to protect history. Remember that next time.

[indistinct chatter]

[speaks Spanish]

[in English] Where are you going?

Sorry. We got turned around.

Is there another entrance?

Who is your companion?

Oh, uh… She's…

[in Russian accent] I am Dr. Yevgania Shostenko.

At ease, comrade.

Who are you here to see?

That's classified.

It's cool. We can come back later.

Oh, no, please. We enter now.

What kind of doctor are you?

Um…

[clears throat softly]

The kind who specializes in extraterrestrial creatures.

Why didn't you say so?

Follow me.

We're supposed to give the nuke to the Russkis, right?

Well, those ain't Russkis.

Um…

Permission to shoot a way out of a sticky situation, Captain.

No, absolutely not.

We don't need an international incident. Do you copy?

[Mick] Uh-huh.

Is that a yes grunt or a no?

[Mick] Uh…

That's what I thought.

Just let me do the talking, okay?

We, uh, found this rig in the jungle.

We're getting it back to our Soviet comrades.

It's a stolen missile.

We'd hate for a nuke to fall into the wrong hands.

I must take it to El Comandante.

-El who? -Fidel frigging Castro.

Sir, wouldn't the Soviets prefer that we return it to them?

You don't understand.

The North Americans have started a mutant invasion.

You will follow us.

Did you not hear my order?

Lead the way, comrade.

How does this help history again?

Captain's orders.

I liked it better when you were in charge.

[engine starts]

-[Nate] I can't believe we're here. -[Zari] Let's focus.

What's the plan?

Uh, I'm going to try to get into JFK's inner circle by pretending to be

an international relations expert.

This way I could keep his finger off the red button.

Okay, what about me?

Um… [exhales]

-You could pretend to be my-- -Secretary.

Bingo!

Yes?

The boys could use a fresh pot.

Oh. Right away, sir. [chuckles]

Who's the egghead?

[President Kennedy] Do I know you?

[Nate clears throat, chuckles]

Uh…

I doubt it.

Dr. Nate Heywood.

Harvard? Class of 1940?

Yes.

Go crimson!

Well, you can always use another Harvard man in the huddle.

Isn't that right, there, Bobby?

Class of '46. Nice to meet you.

-Uh, Nate Heywood. -Let me introduce you to the brain trust.

We have Secretary of Defense. Robert McNamara, Class of '39.

Nice to meet you.

Secretary of Treasury Douglas Dillon. Class of '31.

Pleasure.

Now that the reunion's over, we could get back to business.

General Kilgore here wants me to upgrade our nuclear readiness to DEFCON 3.

This photograph shows the Soviets

have some sort of space-age bomber parked off the coast of Florida.

[grunts]

[softly] Damn it, Mick.

-What do you think, Mr. Heywood? -Me?

I, uh…

It's a spaceship.

It's probably made out of plastic and plywood.

What did you say your area of expertise was again?

-You know, Mr. President… -Call me Jack.

Wow.

Jack, this reminds me of the 1942 Princeton game.

Refresh my memory, son. I was too busy fighting a world war.

Thank you for your service.

It was a 0-0 tie, a defensive stalemate.

Neither team put the ball in the air or got close enough to kick a field goal.

Terrible game, both sides lost.

But when we're talking about lobbing nukes at one another,

that is the only way both sides win.

He's over there, right here.

Okay.

Ah. Just in time, comrade doctora.

The anesthesia is working, and we're ready to begin the vivisection.

Uh, the what?

The vivisection.

Oh. Oh, yes.

Uh, but first, can I have shot of vodka?

As they say in my country, it steadies the hands.

No, there is no time.

El Comandante wants to know how we can best kill these mutant invaders.

[Agent Sharpe] Okay.

Then, uh, let the vivisection begin.

[Behrad] Hey, uh…

-Team Pow wow. -Hmm?

You're gonna kill the only alien who can lead us to Sara?

No. I'm stalling so I can come up with another plan.

[Behrad] Okay.

[Agent Sharpe] Okay.

[Behrad] I should have mentioned this before,

but I do not like blood.

[Agent Sharpe] Relax, everyone.

I am just going to make a tiny little incision. Yes?

[breathing shakily]

[Agent Sharpe] It's just a little tiny bit of blood.

[Behrad gagging]

[Agent Sharpe] Okay, it's okay. Everybody relax.

It's, uh, perfectly normal.

[gas hissing]

[exhales heavily]

This area is restricted. Come back here!

Let me see.

I didn't realize it was you, sir.

-No worries. -Let me show you to the bunker.

Fidel will be glad you're here

[door opens]

Comandante, look who's here.

It's your old friend Che.

Wait. You think I'm Che Guevara?

I never said I was Che.

Then who are you?

I am Che's cousin, Jay.

[kisses]

Jay Guevara.

Just as your cousin and I fought Batista's men.

You and I will fight the CIA's mutant army.

Wait, you mean the alien?

Sent to kill me, no doubt.

It's like the Bay of Pigs all over again,

except this time we've been invaded by squids from space.

Sir, I have an Ambassador Popov on the phone.

Ambassador, what a pleasant… Attack?

What attack?

You lost a nuclear missile?

What do you mean, stolen?

It sounds like you've been drinking, so call me when you've sobered up.

What did he say?

Never believe it.

Russian ambassador just accused us of attacking Cuba with--

A steel man.

-Is that-- -At least it's a good photo.

[Nate] Steel man?

This is even faker than the spaceship.

This is clearly a super-yoked guy in silver body paint.

Actually, I have reason to believe that it's real.

DARPA initiated a program to develop a serum

that could turn a soldier's flesh into metal.

It appears one of their test subjects has gone rogue.

Why didn't anyone tell me about such a program?

Eisenhower didn't think you boys had the stones to deploy such a weapon,

but the good news is, the weapon has been deployed for you.

But, sir, if the Russkis think

we sent a steel soldier to sabotage their missiles,

they might do something stupid and launch 'em.

What do you suggest I do?

We launch a preemptive strike against Cuba.

We take their little island out of the equation.

Mr. President, this reminds me of the '39 Yale game--

Well, you are the quarterback, Jack.

You're calling the shots.

Take us to DEFCON 3, General.

[whispering] Yay, one less DEFCON.

[whispering] That means that we're one step closer to nuclear war.

Well, that makes no sense.

-[gas hissing] -[all laughing]

-[Agent Sharpe] Can I tell you a secret? -Sí, sí.

I'm not really Russian.

-Are you a North American spy? -Worse.

I'm a clone from the future. I snuck onto the base to steal the alien.

[both laughing]

I don't even know why I'm still talking like this.

Get comfy. I'll be right back.

You know, the CIA had a secret plot

to try to put a bomb in one of my cigars once.

Not cool.

But now, I have a secret weapon of my own.

A nuclear missile.

I'm so done being a pawn in this game of chess

between the Americans and the Soviets.

If Cuba is attacked by squids, I will wipe Washington off the face of the earth.

Ooh!

Candy? [grunts]

-I have never seen this brand before. -They're not for everyone.

[quietly] Strap in, dude.

[all snoring]

[Spooner grunting]

[soldier chuckling]

Fidel will decorate you two as heroes of the Republic for this.

Great! I'll be sure to put that one in my trophy case.

[high-pitched ringing]

Headache? That time of the month?

Very funny.

No, I'm being serious.

My daughter. She has the same thing.

Oh. That's very sweet of you, then.

-But it's not my period. It's the alien. -[high-pitched ringing]

[alien grunting]

I think my powers are getting stronger.

It's almost like I can hear it talking.

What's it saying?

[alien screeching]

Don't wake up. Please, not now.

Oh, it is pissed.

We gotta find Ava.

[roars]

[screeching]

I don't wanna hurt you, all right?

I-- I need to know where you took my girlfriend.

[grunts]

[snarling]

[Mick] Let's get out of here.

If I can force the Soviets out of Cuba, then all the missiles will be mine.

Would you mind if I played you a song, Comandante?

I would have you killed if you didn't play me a song, Jay Guevara.

[laughing]

[strumming guitar]

[playing soft melody]

[vocalizing]

[vocalizing]

[vocalizing]

[vocalizing]

[inhales deeply]

Oh, I must call Kennedy at once.

He and I are brothers, just like you and I are brothers.

We are all humans, placed on this one fragile planet.

And the only way forward is

love!

[laughing]

[screeching]

How about another tune?

I told you that thing was sent to kill me!

If it's war the Americans want,

it's war they shall have!

Prepare the missiles for launch immediately!

[groans]

Oh, damn it!

We forgot Behrad, again.

[grunting angrily] Sí!

Guys, I thought you might like an update on El Comandante.

Wait, you're with Fidel Castro?

We're super tight. The problem is he thinks the alien was sent to kill him.

-Why would he think that? -It tried to kill him.

Report back to me as soon as the missile has been fueled.

Oh, and also, he's preparing to launch a nuclear missile at D.C.

-Why does Castro have a nuke? -'Cause we gave it to him.

-You said no shooting. -I said… [gasps]

Oh, my God. Oh, my God, this is not happening.

Oh, okay, okay, okay.

Let's hope that cooler heads are prevailing in D.C.

One of our boys flying over Cuba reports a missile being fueled.

Has Khrushchev lost his mind?

It appears that the missile is no longer in the Soviets' possession, sir.

Huh. Castro's got it.

History is not supposed to go down like this.

Say there, Jackie,

how would you and the kids feel about getting out of town for a couple days?

Uh, I think Jack's starting to crack.

Is Hyannis Port within the blast radius?

There is no time for this, Mr. President.

If those Russkis catch us blinking now, we're through.

What if this is just a big misunderstanding?

What if those Russkis want us to hit Cuba so they could hit us?

Those clever commie bastards.

Our only defense is to attack the USSR.

Jack, that is insane.

Take us to DEFCON 2.

Yes, sir.

Sir, maybe I can help.

My secretary can type 120 words a minute.

This way, we could get the bombers in the air faster.

I thought you were just another pretty face.

Oh, my gosh.

[Zari clears throat]

This is a direct order from the President of the United States

to the entire Strategic Air Command.

I've never seen someone type with just their thumbs.

I want every B-52 we have headed towards their primary targets in the Soviet Union.

Should we lose contact due to a first strike from Cuba,

it should be considered a direct attack from the USSR.

Full retaliatory measures must then be taken without any further orders,

because we'll all be dead.

[typing]

-Did you get all that, sweetie? -Oh, every last word, sir. [chuckles]

Guys, why is Fidel starting World War III?

[Agent Sharpe] He thinks you are invading Cuba with aliens.

[sighs] Look, Behrad's trying to cool him down.

Comandante.

You have a phone call.

It's Che Guevara.

[Fidel Castro] Hello, old friend.

Yes, I know. The news is very scary at the moment.

Oh. [chuckles]

Yes, I wish you were here, too.

But I have a comrade-in-arms right next to me who's the next best thing.

-[explosion] -[soldiers grunt]

Tell the CIA to call back their squid soldiers

or else I'll launch the nuke.

Oh, my God.

[exhales]

-Sounds like you're up, Rory. -I thought I was in the dog house.

That's when we were trying to finesse the situation. Plans change.

-You want us to kill the alien. -We don't have a choice.

Spooner, help him track it.

We need to deescalate the situation and get history back on track.

Screw history! You kill the alien, you kill any chance of finding Sara.

If we don't, Castro starts a nuclear war

and Sara doesn't have a home to return to.

I do not have time to game this out with you, Rory.

-We will find another way to find Sara. -Right.

Lot of big brains in this ship.

I'll just stick with what I know. Shouldn't have cleaned me up.

I'm better off doing what I do best. Being a goon, killing people.

Yes.

It's exactly what I need.

Right. At least I know what I'm here for.

[sighs]

Alien's gone

-[high-pitched ringing] -No, it's still here. I can sense it.

Base is wide open. Why would the stupid thing still be here?

It's not stupid. It's looking for something.

It wasn't right for Ava to try to pin this all on you.

-I don't give a rat's ass. -You were just trying to find Sara.

I was pretending to be somebody I'm not.

You're going to go back to being a dumb drunk, that it?

Yes.

[alarm blaring]

Is that…

[alien grunting]

What's it want with the nuke?

-[high-pitched ringing] -I think it wants to get away from here.

Like, off this planet.

Wait here.

Hey, dummy.

[snarls]

You really think you're gonna hitch a ride home on that thing?

It's a missile.

[roars]

[Mick groans]

Go ahead, eat me,

but you're not gonna get home.

[Spooner] Let him go!

I know you understand me.

Put him down or I blow your ass away.

That thing is not a spaceship. But lucky for you, I've got my own.

[screeching]

Keep talking. It understands you, it just doesn't trust you.

You're not as dumb as you look.

[snarls]

The alien wants its own spaceship, not yours.

[grunts]

[choking] I can take you to it.

But under one condition.

You help me find my friend.

[grunts]

[roaring]

[garbled grunting]

She's asking you a question.

She?

Yeah, she wants to know what kind of fuel the Waverider uses.

Sounds like we got a long trip to find the captain.

Commandante?

-What are you doing? -What does it look like?

You want to start World War III. You will kill all of us.

[beeps]

[alarm whooping]

History will absolve me.

Call for you, General Kilgore.

Thank me?

What for?

What three-day weekend?

And who all received that order?

The entire Strategic Air Command?

Should've known that she was too good to be true.

This secretary has been countermanding your order, sir.

If Fidel Castro launches that missile, you have only got seven minutes

to order a counterstrike against the Soviet Union.

I thought you said all our B-52s are still on the ground.

As much as it pains me to have to ask the Navy for help…

What is that?

That is a nuclear football.

Sir, that allows you to contact the nuclear submarine captains directly

and order an all-out strike against the Soviets.

Jack, they don't want a nuclear war any more than you do.

[machine clacking]

There's a report of a missile launch from Cuba.

Clock is ticking, sir.

Somebody get me Premier Khrushchev.

-This has to be a mistake. -You want to negotiate?

They were right about you. You are soft.

Well, if you don't have the guts to stand up to those commies,

I guess I'll have to do it myself.

-You take one more step… -Or what?

[President Kennedy] The steel man.

You're damn right.

But Jack, I didn't go rogue.

I'm here to protect the world from guys like him.

I'm guessing your accomplice here ain't quite so bulletproof.

Come on.

Boys, huddle up. Huddle up.

Okay.

We gotta get that nuclear football back, boys.

Hey, Bobby, what was that play we ran against Dartmouth back in '39?

Guess we don't need you anymore.

Rude!

Thirty seconds for the safeties to be released.

All we gotta do is to keep that football

out of the hands of those lily-livered Harvard boys.

Okay, crimson on three.

[men] One, two, three, crimson!

Hike!

[all grunting]

This is fun.

[all grunting]

-[back cracks] -[groans]

My back!

[groans]

[grunts]

[Nate] Intercepted!

Whoo!

[both panting]

To tell you the truth, sir…

this football belongs in your hands.

[machine clacking]

The missile's headed straight for us. It'll be here any second.

The safeties are off.

You still have time to strike back.

-This game ain't over yet, Mr. President. -It's not a damn game.

Whoever launched that missile, it was a mistake.

If you strike back, they're going to strike back at us.

That's why it is called mutually assured destruction.

Clearly you do not understand the concept.

Listen, Jack, just because we're about die

doesn't mean that we have to take the whole damn world with us.

You're right.

I'm spiking this football.

[sighs in relief]

[Zari] Um…

Are we about to die?

Yeah. [sighs] But at least we gave it the old college try.

Well, I ain't going out without a fight.

[grunts]

[sighs]

[rumbling]

Take that, you commie bastards!

[rumbling dies down]

Um…

I think we can let go of our hands.

You did it, Jack! You saved us all!

[laughs]

Luck of the Irish, I guess.

-Come on, buddy, get in there. Yeah. -Nah.

-Yeah? -Yeah.

Yeah! Ah!

[all cheering]

Go crimson!

[Gideon] Captain, I'm detecting an unusual level of radiation on the ship.

Rory.

Are you sure it's safe for us to be carrying plutonium around?

No.

[yelps]

[grunts]

Oh, uh… This is not how it looks.

[sighs] I know. I owe you an apology.

You saved the entire world from nuclear Armageddon, Rory.

-Well, I, uh… I had help. -Yeah.

[grunts, clicking]

It doesn't say much, does it?

Oh, she does. You'd be surprised.

-Did you say "she"? -Mm-hmm.

Huh.

So what's the plan?

[Mick] Well, she's hooking some kind of turbocharger to the Waverider.

Why would she help us?

I promised her I'd help her find her ship.

Okay.

Do you trust her?

-No, it's why I'm going alone. -Al…

-Uh, no, but that-- -But no.

You said your job is to protect history.

I also said your job wasn't to think for yourself.

But had you listened to any of my orders,

we'd have absolutely no hope in finding Sara.

So, I…

[sighs]

I guess you got this.

Stop saying nice things.

You just bring me back my girl, okay?

Good luck, big guy.

Sorry, what happened to the ship?

It should be somewhere around here.

[sighs] God, these shoes are killing me. And this stupid hair.

I look like her again, don't I?

I hate that I'm a reminder of everything you lost.

You're not.

I mean, I guess at first.

But now?

Now you just remind me of you.

-Wasn't there a Waverider here? -Hmm.

-[Nate] Hey! -[gasps]

Well played, gang. How'd you manage to avert nuclear Armageddon?

-Sports analogies. -Pot gummies.

-Ah. Very on-brand, both of you. -Thank you.

Hey, where are Rory and Spooner?

That son of a bitch stole our ship.

Well, very on-brand, Mick.

Oh, come on.

Thank him for stealing the warhead out of the missile

that Fidel launched on D.C.

-Thanks, Mick. -Hmm.

Oh! And who made a deal with the alien to take it to its ship

as long as it took us to Sara.

-So he stole the ship? -But it's--

Sorry, my phones were on that ship.

So was my…

Oh, thank God.

How are we gonna catch aliens now?

So, so sorry, but where are we going to live?

-[both] Constantine's house. -John's.

Sweet. I could use a little R&R.

All of us under the same roof with John and Astra.

Could be a real bonding experience.

-He's gonna hate it. Let's leave. -Okay.

Damn. Rory had the right idea…

Hmm? Hmm?

Nobody wants your drugs.

[sighs] Mom.

Listen up. Before we start this little journey of ours,

let's get a few things straight.

Keep your slimy tentacles off my stash, understand?

[grunting]

That better be a yes.

[grunts]

If you're going to run your ugly mouth off this whole trip,

we're gonna have problems.

I was just asking if you had anything stronger on board.

Don't mind if I do.

[exhales]

Here's to long journeys.

[theme music playing]