All language subtitles for Person of Interest - 3x11 - Lethe.HDTV.LOL.en

Time's up.

Told you I'd end you.

Answer me!

Finch, we've got a problem.

Reese has really gone
off the reservation this time.

We're out of options.
We need Root.

I know this is our
only option, Ms. Shaw.

I just want to make sure
we're prepared

for what may happen.

Mr. Reese, we save lives.

You save lives.

Not all of them.

Ms. Shaw.

We have a new number yet?

No, not at this time.

It's been a while.

Guess the city's scumbags
have been behaving.

We could use a little quiet.

I don't do quiet.

That's why I took this job,
and the one before that.

Not sure I appreciate
being associated

with your former employers,

who tried to kill you.

It's not like
this job's any safer.

Speaking of quiet,
have you heard from Reese?

As soon as he was
strong enough to stand,

he left without a word.

Any idea where he went

or when he's coming back?

I'm afraid only Mr. Reese
can answer those questions.

Good-bye, Ms. Shaw.

Whiskey.

Just keep 'em coming.

Another game,
double or nothing?

Okay.

What're you trying to pull?

You think you can hustle me?

Come on, man,
it's just a lucky shot.

Well, your luck
just ran out, pal.

Fellas, hey-- hey!

Hey, come on, somebody help me!

Take it easy, guys!

Let me know if this
is taking it easy.

Agh, stop!

I'll be going out
for provisions later.

Please let me know if there's

anything in particular
you require.

Just a book from your cart.

Top shelf,
third from the right.

False Gods, Pseudepigrapha
In The Modern Age?

Doing a little light reading,
Ms. Groves?

I know it's been hard
for you, Harold,

what with everything
you've been through.

And now even John's left.

Still,

you really shouldn't
take it out on her.

I'm sure I don't know
what you're talking about.

I'm talking...

about you ignoring her.

She has a new number for us.

How did you get this?

Are you communicating
with the machine?

I understand why
you want to quit, Harold.

But now is not the time.

She wants us to work together.

I knew you were
holding out on me.

Must you do that?

So we have another number.

- I haven't decided.
- Decided?

I didn't think
you got to decide.

Actually, I do.

Okay, well, is that going
to happen anytime soon,

or should I be looking
for some action elsewhere?

Arthur Claypool.

Something wrong, Finch?

No, nothing.
We should get to work.

You're in the
hospital's employee database

as Dr. Anne Moore.

You sure you don't want
to play MD, Harold?

I never made
a convincing doctor,

even when I was one.

No, I think it's best
if I stay here

and find out as much as possible
about Claypool.

So what are the details
on this guy?

He lives and works in Maryland.

Until recently,
he was an IT consultant

at a software company,

Runyon Technology Solutions.

His most recent
credit card charges

are at the hospital gift shop.

What room's he in?

That's the strange part.

There's no record of him

in the hospital's
admissions system.

I got him.
He's here.

Then his medical records
must be on file.

I found them.

According to this,
his diagnosis

is glioblastoma multiforme.

Brain tumor.
Does it give a prognosis?

Terminal.

So, assuming this guy
is the victim,

who would want to kill
a dying man?

I suppose that's what
we need to find out.

And how are you doing today,
Mr. Claypool?

I suspect more honeybee
than dragonfly.

Excuse me?

Lifespans.

Dragonfly is four months.
Honeybee is four weeks.

Well, so long as you don't go
mayfly on me,

we won't have a problem.

Are you new?

Or have I just forgotten you?

You haven't forgotten me.

Oh, well, give it time.

My mind, it's like a computer
with a corrupted file system.

I know I want
to remember something,

and I go to open the file,
and then it's just gone.

And then,
the next thing I know,

memories come flooding back

and out of me like a loon.

Including a few
that really shouldn't.

And what memories are those?

Mr. Claypool?

Have you hard-coded
the essential values?

I'm sorry?

We must check the database

after every operation.

Excuse me, Doctor...

Moore.

I haven't seen you
on this floor before.

That's because I haven't
been here before.

- I just transferred in.
- From where?

New York General.

What's your specialty?

Clinical oncology
and palliative care.

What's yours?

Let me know
if you need anything.

Sure.

Finch, Claypool has
a government security detail.

What did you say his job was?

IT consultant.
I realize that's somewhat vague.

A Maryland address,
vague job title,

security detail--

I'd say he's got
top-secret clearance or better.

He said his tumor was causing
memories to flood out of him,

including some that shouldn't.

Could be...

someone's planning
on shutting him up for good.

His security detail is using

a three-man wedge formation.

Meaning what?

Meaning they're Secret Service.

Finch...

who the hell is this guy?

Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com

_

Are they sparrows, dad?

Mm-mm-mm.

Oh, close.

Tell you what.

You help me with the truck,

and I'll help you
with the birds, hmm?

Okay.

Engine's flooded,

and I can't for the life of me
figure out why.

Where's the socket wrench?

I had it right here in my hand.

Um, dad?

I don't know
where my head is lately.

Here, you want to try one?

Don't lose it.

Gonna need every piece.

Nothing in here that doesn't
have a reason to be.

Except the dirt.

I'll get that.

Sorry, took longer than I--

Look.

I'll be damned.

But you're not supposed

to take things apart like that.

You understand, Harold?

Well, if they don't want you
to get inside,

they ought to build
them better.

Okay, son.

You held up your end.

You still want to know
what kind of bird that is?

Any progress, Ms. Shaw?

Claypool's security detail
won't leave his side.

You find out anything more
on your end?

No.

His minimal digital footprint

tends to support your idea

that he did secret work
for the government,

but it also makes it
exceedingly difficult

to determine the true nature
of any threat.

Well, I can get rid
of the guard dogs.

I just need a gallon
of anything flammable.

What?

Oh, relax, Finch.
We're in a hospital.

Ms. Shaw,
I'm sure there are ways

to get to Claypool
that do not involve

any kind of combustion.

Fine.
But I'll need a partner.

You could be
a hospital administrator.

I'm afraid I'm unable
to do that.

Ms. Groves is requiring

additional supervision
at the moment.

Hang on.

Uh, Claypool has a visitor.

A woman, looks to be
about his age.

Tall, brown hair.

Like this?

Yes.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Diane Claypool.

His wife. Records show
they've been married

a little over 20 years.

No-- no.

- Stop.
- Honey, please--

Wait, how did you get in here?

- Arthur, it's me.
- How did you get in here?

The patient's in distress.
Step aside.

He's not in distress--
just confused.

What do you want?

Nothing! I'm just here
to see you.

I don't understand wh--
No, you--

you don't have any authority
to be here.

I can't listen to you
because this is a secure floor,

and you don't have
SCI clearance.

You are not at work.

Arthur, please,
just look around.

You are in a hospital room.

First of all,
who do you think you are

to talk to me this way?

I'm Diane.
I'm your wife.

You just don't remember.

No. No.

Uh... I don't have time
for these games.

I am on a deadline.

- I have to fix it.
- Fix what?

Samaritan.

It has to be operational
before they--

Okay, that's enough.

Samaritan? What are you talking
about, Arthur?

They don't think I know

what they're gonna do,

but I actually do know
what they're gonna do.

They want to kill it,
but I will not let them.

I have taken precautions.

Just take it easy,
Mr. Claypool.

He is not deceived who knows
himself to be deceived.

Um, excuse me.
I'll-- I'll be back.

Finch, did you hear that?

That seems to answer
the question

of whether Claypool worked
for the government.

Yeah, on something
called Samaritan?

The name is familiar.

I'll see what I can dig up.

Well, I don't think
I'll be getting

close to Claypool anytime soon.

But I can get
to the next best thing.

Lab Technician to OR 6.

Lab Technician to OR 6.

It's no Starbucks,
but it gets the job done.

I hadn't really noticed.

I'm-- I'm sorry
about the scene back there.

Oh.

Compared to what I'm used to,
it's nothing.

I don't know how you do it.

Me, I hate hospitals.

And now it seems it's where I
spend all my time.

When was he diagnosed?

About a year ago.

The signs were all there.

I just didn't want to see them.

He was getting lost
in the neighborhood.

He had a change
in his temperament.

Mrs. Claypool,
do you know of anyone

who'd want to hurt
your husband?

Arthur?

No.

He was--
is the most gentle man.

Why would you ask?

His security detail.

Oh, them. No.

They're just here
because of where he worked.

And where was that?

The National Security Agency.

He would not want me
to tell you that,

but I don't really see the point
in hiding it anymore.

Your husband must be
a pretty important guy.

I wouldn't know.

He never talked to me
about his work,

so I finally just stopped
asking, and then...

we kind of stopped talking
altogether.

Talking's overrated.

I mean, that must have been
really hard.

Not as hard as realizing
the person you spent

half your life with

doesn't even know
who you are anymore.

And I suppose that's why
I keep coming back here.

Just on the hope that Arthur
will remember who I am,

even for a moment,

and if he does,
I'm going to be there.

I'm sorry.

I... should get
back to work.

His security detail is gone.

And Claypool?

- Excuse me.
- Mm-hmm?

Where is the patient that was
assigned to this room?

Oh, he was taken to Radiology.

Finch, Claypool's wife
said he was NSA.

That fits.

I knew I'd heard Samaritan
before.

It was a classified
NSA project.

Congress de-funded and then
shut it down in 2005,

which is clearly the time
Claypool is living in.

Well, if Claypool
was career NSA,

then he'd be read in on all
sorts of top-secret information.

Information he's now shouting
for anyone to hear.

Well, I can think of about
15 foreign intelligence agencies

that would kill for that intel.

That occurred to me as well.

As did the possibility
that the threat may be

from his own security detail.

To protect
the government's secrets.

You need to get close to him.

Easier said than done.

Okay, I'm in.

Be careful, Ms. Shaw.

I have no backup
that I can send you.

Well, then, I'll be quick.

- Relax, Mr. Claypool.
- Wait a minute.

A syringe in the trashcan?

Claypool would have been
injected

with a radio tracer
prior to his scan.

It's sodium pentothol.

Who has them?

Rudy.

And where is Rudy?

This isn't a scan.
It's an interrogation.

Is everything all right?

No.

Whoever the threat
against Claypool is,

they're already here.

Freeze! Don't move.

Ms. Shaw?

So much for being quick.

What you building there, son?

It's an array
of floating gate transistors,

configured as a series
of NAND gates.

It's a memory system.
Watch.

"D"...

"A"...

"D".

Now just watch this.

"Dad."

I'm making you a memory

to help you remember stuff
like turning off the stove,

and if I keep working on it,

I think I can make it
so it can remember

all the things that you can't.

Now, we talked about this.

I mean, what's wrong with me
can't be fixed by you

or by anybody else, okay?

But what if I build a machine

with lots of memory,
one that could think?

Well, even if you could,

even if you could fill it
with all my memories,

it still wouldn't be me.

You know, not everything
that's broken

was meant to be fixed.

You understand?

_

- Hello?
- Ms. Shaw?

I figured it was you.
How'd you find me?

I triangulated the phone nearest
to your last GPS signal.

Where are you?

Locked in an office.
Easton took my guns and phone.

I assumed as much,

which is why I've relocated

to better monitor
the situation.

- You're here?
- I'm in the parking lot.

Good. While I figure out
a way out of this,

you can keep an eye
on Claypool.

Um, I think it best
if I remain here

and try to identify
who drugged him.

Finch, why--

Oh, I found something.

The woman posing
as the Imaging Technician,

she avoided the cameras
by wearing a hat on the way out,

but before that,

she logged into the Imaging
Room's computer.

An Elizabeth Ross.

We need to find out what she was
interrogating Claypool about.

I couldn't tell.

I just heard him say
the name "Rudy."

Dr. Moore.

Or whatever your name is.

Please.

Whoever put this identity
together for you

really knew what they
were doing.

Which brings me
to my next questions.

Who are you, and what do you
want with Arthur Claypool?

Hello, Lionel.

Finch send you?

He's worried about you.

Hell, we all are.

How'd you find me?

What do you think,
I won my detective shield

in a poker game?

Glasses helped a little.

Go home, Detective.

- Lionel--
- I heard you.

You know what?
This is a public place.

I've got just as much right
to be here as you.

Fine.

But if you're gonna sit here,

you're gonna drink
and not talk.

You understand?

Fine by me.

Whiskey. Double.

Bourbon and soda.
Hold the bourbon.

So what agency
do you work with?

FSB, MSS?

You're wasting your time.

You should be
protecting Claypool.

That tech dosed him
with sodium pentothol.

How would you know
something like that?

The same way you would, if you'd
done any real field work.

You know, I can make things
very unpleasant for you.

Unpleasant?

Oh, you Service boys
are so polite.

Look, whoever came
after Claypool

didn't get what they want.

They will try again.

You all right there, Dudley?

You don't look so good.

Finch...

any chance you spiked

the Secret Service guy's
fried rice?

- No.
- Then we have a problem.

Indeed.

I think I've identified
the threat to Claypool.

As a longtime employee
of the NSA,

he'd be a prime target
for anyone obsessed

with exposing the government's
secret surveillance operations.

And then I remembered
the technician's name.

Elizabeth Ross.

A name shared with a hero
of the Revolutionary War,

more commonly known
as Betsey Ross.

Revolutionary War?

I'll give you one guess
who that might be.

Vigilance.
And they're here.

It's Collier.

Doctor?

Why do you have a gun?

What happened to his guards?

We have to go.

Why?

Because there are people
coming after your husband.

What kind of people?

The kind you need a gun for.
Grab his clothes.

Mr. Claypool.

- Wake up.
- What?

You need to come with us, sir.

Why? Where are we going?

- To a nicer room.
- No, I don't want a nicer room.

- Sir, sir, you really--
- Just listen to her.

Just listen
to what she tells you.

- Who are you?
- If we can get you out of here--

What are you doing
with my clothes?

Let go of me, both of you,

or I'll have you removed!

He won't come with me, Harold.

Please calm down.

- Harold, I--
- Arthur, come on.

We need to leave.

Harold?

That's right.

Finally, somebody I recognize.

How long has it been?

Quite some time.

_

Sandra's parents
are going out of town.

Kegs flowing.

What about you, Harold?
You coming?

When was the last time
they changed that sign?

Why would they need to?

Exactly.

Paris has a population
of 9 million.

Who cares?

You can't get to Paris
from Lassiter.

I'll take you to Paris.

Allo? Allo?

C'est qui?

Holy crap.

How'd you do that?

Tu fais quoi?

Dude, that was way
too much fun to be legal.

Harold.

I'm gonna need you
to come with me.

It's about your dad.

So you two know each other?

Harold and I go all the way
back to MIT.

The mighty engineers, huh?

You should have seen us,
two young turks

at the dawn
of the information age.

We were gonna shape the future,

- remember, Harold?
- I do.

Yes, but so do I.

You're limping.
Are you hurt?

No, it's just an old injury
that never healed quite right.

- This way.
- You know,

Harold was the most brilliant
of all of us.

If anybody was going
to change the world,

we knew it would be him.

You know, what did you
end up doing?

What's your field of expertise?

Insurance.

He's got a gun!

Who are those people?

Why are they shooting at us?
What do they want?

- You, Arthur.
- Me?

What did I do to them?

Okay. Okay.

Okay, you'll be safe here

while I make arrangements
to get you both

out of harm's way.

Harm's way?
Why, are we in danger?

Oh, yes, the gun people.

What was that all about?

Your job, Arthur.

My job?

You did work for the NSA?

Not in front of her.

Arthur--

Yes, I worked for them.

I expect the people
shooting at us

knew that as well.

They're not trying
to kill you, Arthur,

at least not until they get
some information out of you.

What information?

When you were being scanned
at the hospital,

the technician asked you
who had them.

- Them.
- And you answered, "Rudy."

I did?

Who were you talking about?

Uh, um...

I don't know.
I'm sorry.

That's all right.
Why don't you rest?

Harold...

what do you have to do
with all this?

I just heard that you might be
in some trouble.

Come on, let's get you settled.

You really shouldn't stand
so close to the windows.

Who are you people?

We're the ones keeping you
and your husband safe.

What about his security detail?

Shouldn't the Secret Service
know we're here?

Right now, the only people
I trust are in this room.

You feeling better?

Harold, do you recall

Arise, Ye Sons Of MIT?

Oh, I--

♪ arise, ye sons ♪

♪ of MIT ♪

♪ in loyal brotherhood ♪

♪ the future beckons unto ye ♪

♪ and life is full and good ♪

♪ arise, and raise ♪

♪ your steins on high ♪

♪ tonight shall ever be ♪

♪ a memory that will never die ♪

♪ ye sons of MIT ♪

John's gonna be sorry
he missed that.

Now, Arthur,

what was Samaritan?

Arthur.

Oh, Samaritan is
truly a remarkable project.

You say it is remarkable.
Tell me about it.

Its primary function is
to detect

potential acts of terror

through analysis
of large data sets.

Specifically,
it will have the ability

to anticipate
acts of aggression

and suggest
strategic countermeasures

before the perpetrators
can act.

It sounds like quite a project.

Oh, Samaritan is revolutionary.

Not so much for what it does,
but how it does it.

The system was designed
to function autonomously,

to continually adapt
and upgrade itself

through past experiences.

You're saying that it
can remember and learn.

Yes.

Harold, it's what
we always dreamed of.

Samaritan is a true
artificial intelligence.

You're right, Arthur.

That is remarkable.

Excuse me.

Mm.

Is he talking about what I think
he's talking about?

It would appear so.

But then that would mean--

That there was
a second machine.

And Arthur built it.

Copy that.

I found Harold, and I'm taking
them both home now.

Ten-four.

Son, he wandered half a mile
away from home tonight.

What happens when it drops
below zero?

If you're stretched
past the point

where you can give him
what he needs,

maybe it's time
to find a place that can.

I'm sorry, son.

I don't know why
this keeps happening.

I forget who people are,
where I am.

It's okay, dad.

No, it's not.

You have greatness
in you, Harold.

Your mind, the things
that you can see--

It's not-- Dad--

And it's wasted here.

You should be heading
off to college,

not taking care of an old man.

I'm not going anywhere.

And besides, they're building
a computer network right now

that's going to connect all
the universities in the country.

If I can't leave town,

I'll bring the information
to me.

I'll find a way.

Careful, son.
Don't be reckless.

Don't get yourself
into something you shouldn't.

If they don't want you
to get inside,

they ought to build it better.

Well--

Come on.

This machine
you built, Arthur...

Huh?

Samaritan--
where is it now?

Nowhere.

Samaritan was destroyed
years ago.

2005.

Destroyed? Why?

Well, after 9/11,
the government had everyone

and their cat
trying to build a system

that could watch everything.

They came to you as well.

Yes. I told them the only way
they could achieve

what they wanted
was to build something

that not only watched,
but understood

what it was watching.

An AI.

I know you always said
artificial intelligence

was a fool's errand,
Harold, but...

I was this close.

Close?

To making Samaritan
operational.

Truth is, I couldn't get it
to work.

I mean, I could've,
if those pinhead bureaucrats

would have just given me
a few more weeks.

I know I could have cracked it.

And that's when Congress
shut you down.

Well, not just us.
All the programs.

Stellar Wind, Tides, Genysis,

Futuremap, Genoa.

Within six months,
they were all gone.

They came for Samaritan

February 25, 2005.

For fear of "Violating
civil liberties,"

or so they said.

And you thought there was
another reason.

The government wanted
a system, Harold.

They weren't just going
to give up.

They let Congress shut us down,
all except for that piece of crap Prism,

but that was just to throw
anyone off the scent.

Of what?

They'd already found it.

Someone else
had got there first.

And built it.

When I said "Drink",
I didn't mean club soda.

Finch appoint you to be
my designated driver too?

No, smart guy.

I'm two years sober.

Why?

Because back when I was doing
a lot of stupid things,

drinking was one of them.

And then this jackass in a suit
showed up on my backseat

and forced me at gunpoint
to help him

and take a look at who I was.

Why'd I quit drinking?

You.

Don't let it go to your head.

Another.

What do you think, you're
the only one that's hurting?

My partner got shot.

So tell me how hiding out
in your old man's watering hole

is gonna fix it.

♪ the tears rolling
down my nose ♪

♪ the sky is crying ♪

I saw the sign for the army base
about five miles back.

I thought maybe this was
where you were stationed.

Until I saw the picture.

And the resemblance.

My dad was here before he was
deployed to Vietnam.

Did four tours.

He was a bona fide war hero.

- Was he killed in action?
- No.

At the refinery
where he worked.

Hadn't even been home
two months.

That's rough.

But what's that have to do
with what happened to Carter?

Nothing.

Just proves that no matter
what we do or don't do

in this world, bad things
are still gonna happen.

It's...

pointless.

Irrelevant.

How can you say that?

You saved lots of people,
including me.

You're saying
that was pointless?

All right.

Let's go.

I'm not leaving.

I wasn't talking about leaving.

♪ she was walking
on down the street ♪

I'm not gonna fight you, Lionel.

Hey!

♪ until my poor heart
would skip a beat ♪

Come on.

Come on.

♪ I got a bad feeling ♪

♪ that my baby,
my baby don't love me no more ♪

♪ I got a bad feeling ♪

♪ my baby don't love me
no more ♪

Come on.

♪ you know the sky's
been cryin' ♪

♪ the tears rolling
down my nose ♪

Okay, that should do it.

This time tomorrow,
Arthur and Diane Claypool

will be Henry
and Elaine McCarthy.

I've also arranged a room for Arthur
at a Toronto hospital.

We'll leave first thing
in the morning.

If there's anything I can do--

Enough!

I'm sorry, I was just trying
to talk to him.

Who are you?

Why don't you just
leave me alone?

- Arthur, it's okay.
- No.

And you can't keep me here.

The truth fears no questions.

Arthur, it's me, Harold.

Harold?

And this is Diane, your wife.

How come I remember you
and not her?

Because tumors do
mysterious things to memory.

- No.
- It's like you said.

Your file system is corrupted.

No. That's not it.

I remember Diane.

Diane is dead.

I buried her two years ago,

on June 12, 2011.

You do remember.

Go.

I suppose this was inevitable.

And seeing as how time
is a luxury we no longer have--

Hersh.

Perimeter is secure, ma'am.

Ma'am?

He works for you?

As did you at one time,
Agent Shaw.

I assume you always wanted
to meet me.

Control.

I was concerned
that you might disrupt

my attempts
to get close to Arthur.

However, you proved
to be quite useful,

saving him from those
misguided privacy terrorists

and arranging it so I could meet
your employer,

who I've heard so much about.

By the way,

I didn't catch
your last name, Harold.

What is it that you want
from Arthur?

Just information.

The location of his
greatest achievement,

Samaritan.

Samar-- No.
Samaritan was destroyed.

I know the official story,
Arthur.

I also know about the drives.

So...

where are they?

I don't know
what you're talking about.

All right, stop it.
He's telling you the truth.

He doesn't know.

I'll find out soon enough.

And since you and I have had
the good fortune of meeting,

you can help me recover
something else

that belongs to me.

Your greatest achievement.

Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that.

One of you is going to tell me
what it is I want to know.

And whoever does...

will be the one
who gets to leave here...

alive.

_

_

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Sync and corrections by n17t01
www.addic7ed.com