All language subtitles for Person of Interest - S05E10 - The Day the World Went Away

HAROLD: You are being watched.

The government has a secret system.

Secret system.

GREER: A system you asked for,
to keep you safe.

HAROLD: A machine that spies on you
every hour of every day.

GREER: You granted it the power
to see everything.

To index, order and control
the lives of ordinary people.

HAROLD: The government
considers these people irrelevant.

We don't.

GREER: But to it, you are all irrelevant.

Victim or perpetrator,
if you stand in its way...

HAROLD: We'll find you.

HAROLD: I wanted to talk to you.

No one else would really understand.

Not much of a conversation,
as you can't talk back.

That's my fault.

But I've been thinking,

and I know you have, too,

about how all this plays out,

about what happens next.

I'm sure you've made
a million different versions.

I know some very bad things are coming.

I know I'm probably going to die.

I accepted that a long time ago.

But I was wondering

if, in any of those many versions,

the people that I've roped
into helping me, my friends...

Whether they get out alive?

Is that a path that we're on?

I suppose I may have made that impossible.

Even if you could tell me,
it's probably too late.

Double shot and a cappuccino.

Glad to see you back.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

I'm afraid that you are confusing me
with someone else.

This is the first time
I've been to this establishment.

Oh, sorry. It's just...

Thought I recognized your order, too.

What a coincidence.

Goodbye, and thank you.

Good morning, Ms. Groves.
How is Ms. Shaw faring?

Great.

How is she really faring?

It's going to take some time.

Is there anything else the matter?

We finally have open access
to the Machine,

and now you're planning to close it,

go back to talking in numbers.

Unless you've added telepathy
to your long list of talents,

there's no way you could have known

that I had chosen today
to end our dialog with the Machine.

You built her to predict people, Harry,

and she's very good at it,
starting with you.

She respects your decision.

She believes in you so much.

You don't agree.

You built God, Harry.

Who am I to question your judgment
or hers?

- But?
- But we're going to lose.

You know that.

We have the most powerful ally
in the world,

but you're too high-minded
to let her help us,

so, we're going to end up
the most principled corpses

in potter's field.

We've stayed alive so far.

We're not living. We're surviving.

We're human.

Eventually, we'll make a mistake,

and she'll die, too.

I know why you didn't give her a name.

You don't name something
you may have to kill.

You had to kill
the first 40 versions of her,

but like it or not, Harry,
she's your child,

and she's going to die

unknown, unmourned.

She'll simply vanish without a trace.

(SCOFFS)

And you couldn't even give her
a real voice

to ask you if it needs to end like this.

I didn't give the Machine a name
because I imagined that, one day,

it might wish to choose one for itself.

And a system doesn't have to be open
to be given a voice.

Whose voice would you prefer?

She's a big girl.

Like you said, let her choose.

HAROLD: I'm locking us out of the system.

As for a voice,
we'll see what she chooses.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

WOMAN 1: Sierra.
MAN 1: Tango. Bravo.

MAN 2: Lima.
WOMAN 2: X-ray.

MAN 2: Lima. November. Bravo.

SONUM: I looked up your credentials,
Professor Whistler.

Your work on discourse analysis
is impressive.

- Thank you.
- You're quite welcome.

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

But you've yet to be published
on the subject

of Word Sense Disambiguation.

Knowing that, how are you qualified
to give me a B minus?

Office hours are over.

Professor Whistler was just about
to change my grade.

This paper is a C minus at best,
and that man is not your professor.

He's an architect of the future.

Mr. Reese, what's going on?

- We have a new number.
- Whose?

Yours.

Excuse me. What about my grade?

- You failed.
- Oh.

Sorry, Harry. Professor Whistler's
taking early retirement.

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(GRUNTS)

-(GUNSHOT)
-(GRUNTS)

Who wants to go quietly?

Nice doing business with you, Trevor.

Let's get out of here
before more of his colleagues show up.

Good to be alive, isn't it, Harry?

We haven't survived this yet, Ms. Groves.

Harold's cover is blown.

- And yours, Detective?
- Don't know yet.

Which is precisely why you should put
some distance between us, John.

It's not worth the risk.

Street's clear. You weren't followed.

Ms. Shaw, it's good to have you back home.

Harold, do you know how they found you?

HAROLD: I don't know.

I do.

I'm back a week. Your cover's blown.

JOHN: This place could be blown, too.

We need to take what we can,
guns, ammo, cash,

and get the hell out fast.

We're going on the offensive.

Temporary Resolutions.

Starting at that office

and working right up
their chain of command.

They can't get to Finch
if we get to them first.

(DOOR CLICKS)

Yeah, I love you, too.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Grab some guns, Sameen.

You'll feel better
once we shoot some people.

There'd be a better way to fight this war
if we hadn't closed the system.

If I believed that,
I wouldn't have done it.

What if I said I hard-coded
a little something extra into the system

before you closed it for good?

I gave her the capacity to defend herself.

There are rules, Ms. Groves,
rules I did not arrive at casually.

Don't worry. I added a safeguard.

She'll only act if you ask her to.

It's entirely your decision.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

SHAW: Party crashers.

You wanna stick around,
give them a proper welcome?

Thought you'd never ask.

Offense works for me. What about Glasses?

He's not exactly Indiana Jones, you know.

Leave Harold with me.

You think you can hide him
from an all-seeing eye?

I used to be the all-seeing eye.

I know just the place
to keep Harold out of sight.

JOHN: Good.

Sorry to miss the party, ladies,
but we need to move.

(GUN COCKS)

I wish you wouldn't do this on my account.

I'm just protecting a number, Harold.

It's what you hired me to do.

HAROLD: These are the Double B high
rises. Are you sure the place is safe?

For me, yes.
For an outsider, of course not.

Pardon the smell. Used to be a meth lab.

Well, the escort is much appreciated,
but I'll take it from here.

I'm sorry, Harold.
This isn't just your fight.

We have a common enemy,
one that murdered a dear friend.

I'm in your corner until the end.

I confess I'm not a fan of boxing,

but have you ever been to a match
where everybody knows the fighter's done,

except the fighter himself?

It's never done.

We've lasted too long to give up now.

I'm afraid you're signing
your own death warrant.

Be that as it may,
I'd rather die on the mat

than throw in the towel.

It's more peaceful than I'd have imagined.

I negotiated a truce between
the two gangs warring over the territory.

Enjoy it. Nobody's getting in here.

You've thought a few moves ahead,

but our opponent has thought 1,000.

You were always quite the chess player.

Did you ever game out
where you'd be at this point in your life?

I must admit,

a meth lab was low
on my list of possibilities.

I was fairly certain I'd end up in prison.

Strange. Me, too.

Oh, the lives we could have led.
It's funny.

When we met, John was protecting
a teacher named Charlie Burton

in this exact housing project.

As I recall, that protection ended
when Charlie pulled a gun on John.

A youthful indiscretion.

I was living underground three years,

but I got sloppy
and was caught on a surveillance camera.

Everything all right, Harold?

Excuse me.

HAROLD: Root.

Hey, stranger.

- Just finishing up here.
-(GRUNTS)

I'm afraid
I've made a grave miscalculation.

I went back to the place
I took Grace on our first date.

It had been 10 years to the day
since I bought her that first cappuccino.

Samaritan isn't just watching
everything we do now.

It's monitoring
everything we've ever done.

You said this morning
we were just surviving.

By then, my fate had been sealed,

but not yours.

I would hate for my mistake
to mean punishment for the rest of you.

And please tell Ms. Shaw,
this is not her cross to bear.

This lapdog has the same card.

Temporary Resolutions.

You wanna tell me how this all-seeing
eye thing doesn't see us coming?

It does.

We're two homicide detectives
investigating a campus shooting.

(FUSCO READING)

ls it just me, or is dispatching hitmen
more of a permanent resolution?

Ready or not, Lionel...

Welcome to Temporary Resolutions.
How can I help you, gentlemen?

Detective Riley, NYPD.

My partner and I
are investigating a shooting

involving one of your employees.

A shooting? Oh, my God!

We need to see your employee files.

I'm afraid
you're gonna need a warrant for that.

Can we speak to your supervisor?

Are you sure you want to do that?

We'll take our chances.

Of course.

Right this way.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Can I offer you gentlemen any water
while you're waiting? Coffee, maybe?

We're good.

BRENDA: Our supervisor will be
right with you.

(CELL PHONE BEEPS)

(SIGHS)

- That was Harry.
- I gathered.

He think I'm the reason his cover's blown?

He knows you're not.

He slipped up.

He went back to the place
he and Grace had their first date.

Harold has a weakness.

We all do.

It'd be nice if we could go back.

I guess none of us has the life we want.

Actually, Sameen,

I've been hiding since I was 12.

This might be the first time
I feel like I belong.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

These guys don't quit.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Guess we might get a workout after all.

ELIAS: Would you care for some dinner,
Harold?

I make a killer puttanesca,

even in a kitchen
that's only been used to cook meth.

They're here.

Shame. I don't think
we'll have enough place settings.

The two gangs' normal behavior
is to fight all day every day,

so today is an anomaly.

That's how they found us.

In that case,
the puttanesca will have to wait.

I'm beginning to think
this supervisor's never showing.

Lionel.

What do you hear?

Nothing.

That can't be good.

(GUN COCKS)

They sent 50 employees packing.

So they could send in the big guns,
and we're their targets.

Get ready, Lionel.
Chain of command's coming for us.

(GUNSHOTS)

(GRUNTS)

Ah!

JOHN: Nice shot, Lionel,

but I'm afraid it's time we wrap this up.

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(GRUNTS)

Do me a favor, and push
the elevator button, would you, Harold?

Who's to say
they won't be on the elevator?

- Oh, they're on the elevator.
-(ELEVATOR DINGS)

They're just not alive.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

(GUNSHOTS)

You hand him over now,
and we'll let you go.

ELIAS: No, thank you.

You're not gonna be able
to take both of us out.

You know what? You're right. But he can.

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(THUDS)

Good thing you brought the mop.

Don't travel without it, boss.

See, Harold?
Even old boxers have a few tricks.

My man William is going to take us
out of the city.

Elias!

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(GRUNTS)

Get in.

{GUNSHOT)
{GASPS)

(MOURNFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

No sign of Finch.

Yo, you the cops? Got something for you.

Let him through.

Everyone around here respected Elias.

Elias's killers left the scene
in this vehicle?

Yeah. One killer.
The one guy who Elias respected.

JOHN: Root, RTCC got a hit
on the vehicle transporting Finch.

ROOT: The Machine beat you to the punch.

Shaw and I are already on the way.

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

Don't worry, Harold. This won't take long.

I should hope not.

I won't give you the location
of my friends or the Machine,

so please, go ahead and kill me now
before more people die.

My dear Harold,
Samaritan doesn't want you dead.

So why has it gone to all this trouble
to bring me here?

Because Samaritan needs your help.

Granted, Samaritan knows

that you won't hear its appeal
in your current state.

One day, a day
you might not be able to see now,

you will work for Samaritan
of your own accord.

Take him.

If you could just follow me, sir.

Have a pleasant journey, Mr. Finch.

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(GUNSHOTS)

(GUNFIRE)

(SHATTERING)

-(WOMAN SCREAMING)
-(GUNSHOTS)

(GRUNTS)

So I was thinking about your thing.

My thing?

Your whole "I'm crazy
and the world is just a simulation" thing.

It's a little like
when Harry had me locked up,

and I was questioning everything.

Can we talk about this
after the whole "lethal shootout" thing?

No time like the present, Sameen.

Besides, if this is just
another simulation, who cares if we die?

(GUNSHOTS)

Anyway, Schrodinger said,
at its base level,

the universe isn't made up
of physical matter but just shapes.

(GUNSHOTS)

I thought that might make you feel better.

- Seriously?
-(GUNSHOTS)

(GUNFIRE)

(GRUNTS)

- A shape, you know? Nothing firm.
-(GUNSHOTS)

What it means is the real world
is essentially a simulation anyway.

You are the last person
I should have confided in about this.

(GUNFIRE)

I like that idea,

that even if we're not real,
we represent a dynamic,

a tiny finger
tracing a line in the infinite.

- A shape. And then we're gone.
-(GUNSHOTS)

That's supposed to make me feel better?

-I'm a shape?
-Yeah.

And, darling, you got a great shape.

-(GUNSHOTS)
-(CHUCKLES)

I swear to God,
you flirt at the most awkward times.

I know.

(GUNFIRE)

Listen, all I'm saying is that,
if we're just information,

just noise in the system,

we might as well be a symphony.

Hey, Harry. Need a lift?

Get back!

(GUNFIRE)

Get in the car. I'll draw the fire.

I'm not leaving you again.

Get him out of here now,
or I'll shoot you myself!

GO! Go!

(GUNFIRE)

SAMARITAN:Stop.

Right.

On foot.

Three blocks.

You should have just left me.

Not gonna happen, Harry.

You're bleeding.

(GROANS)

Please, we need to get you to a hospital.

Not a chance. That's the first place
they'll be looking for you.

You can patch me up
when we get back to the subway.

You've had plenty of practice with John.

I'm so tired of this.

Everyone we've lost. Elias.

They all made choices.

They all died
for something they believe in.

And, anyway, the way I see it,

they're not gone, Harry.

I mean, they're dead,
but they're not gone.

(HORN BLARING)

You must have figured this out.

I'm not in a metaphysical mood.

I'm not talking metaphysics, Harry.
(CHUCKLES)

You built it, but you refuse
to accept what you created.

I mean Shaw's a little screwy right now,
but she's not wrong.

We're all simulations now.

In order to predict what we do,

she has to know us,

and she's gotten better and better at it.

And the people she watches the most
she knows the best,

better than we know ourselves.

Nathan, Elias, Carter,
they're all still in there.

The Machine is still watching over them.

She's watching over us, too.

She thinks you should take this. Now.

May I ask why?

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(HORN BLARING)

- Might want to duck, Harry.
-(GUNFIRE)

SAMARITAN: Right.

5G.

Upstairs.

Vacant.

These guys are really pissing me off.

Can you get me the .338?

-:338"?
- The really big gun.

And a hair scrunchie, thanks!

(GUNFIRE)

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

He'll be done in three, two...

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Oh, dear.

(EXHALES IN RELIEF)

Amateurs.

As I was saying,
this is the next world, Harry.

The world you built.

And as long as the Machine lives,
we never die.

Relax, hotshot. It's the cavalry. Get in.

(SHAW EXHALES)

SAMARITAN'. Plate number 5KSKU.

- Target?
- SAMARITAN: Priority target, passenger.

Secondary target, driver.

Listen, I know you have apprehensions
about what the Machine is,

about what she will become,

and I trust you, Harold.

I walked in darkness for a very long time
until you guided me to light,

and I wouldn't change any of it,

but we're not going to win this way,

and we can't afford to lose.

When the time comes,

you'll know what to do.

And I know this is an ugliness
you never wanted,

but sometimes you have to fight a little.

We're fighting a war that's already over.

All this mayhem,

it isn't some plucky
underground resistance movement.

It's an extinction burst.

- No!
-(GUNSHOTS)

-(TIRES SCREECHING)
{GUNSHOT)

(PANTING)

- Are you hit?
-l'm fine, Harry.

I'm just fine.

Keep your eyes out. I need to drive.
(BREATHING HEAVILY)

OFFICER: NYPD! Stop the vehicle!

Root, we have to stop.

We're not in any immediate danger.

We have to take our chances
with the police.

OFFICER: All right,
they're stopping. Move in.

Put the weapon down!

We're not armed. We're not armed.

Root, put your gun down. Root?

OFFICER: Out of the car!

(MOURNFUL MUSIC PLAYING)

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING)

DETECTIVE 1: Prints came back positive.

Fifteen homicide scenes
in the last five years.

Who the hell is this guy?

DETECTIVE 2: Don't know, but after
you ran them, the feds called.

They're sending someone over.

And get this. Case on file
from nineteen-seventy-frigging-four.

DETECTIVE 1: What are the charges?

Treason.

Aye, Sarge, thanks.

(SIGHS)

These guys are clueless.
It's like a war zone out here.

Said they pulled two people
out of the car.

One of them's in custody down in central.

One of them...

One of them is at St. Mary's
in critical condition.

Samaritan won't give up.
They're both in danger.

We need to split up.

I'll go to the hospital.

JOHN: Shaw, you come with me.

- Be careful, Lionel.
- Yeah.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

Harold, this is as far as we've gotten.

Harold.

That and a file number.

Quite a few file numbers, in fact.

We've got records of records of you
going back nearly 40 years,

but no actual records.

(CHUCKLES) Isn't that funny?

We digitized them all 10 years back.

Brass said all the files were
taking up too much room.

(SCOFFS)

Me? I thought it was a bad idea.

I mean, pieces of paper going missing
every once in a while,

for the most part, they turned up.

But now, little bits in a hard drive?

Who's to say when they disappear.
They're just gone.

Now, all of yours just went up in smoke.

Poof.

And all I've got is
a cover page to a file.

An interview with an unnamed man
in a retirement home

talking about his son.

Harold.

But lucky for me, in treason cases,
they keep the files.

I've got an agent headed to Washington
with a flashlight.

It'll probably take him
a couple hours to dig yours up,

unless you want to save him the time.

My friend. What happened to her?

Well,

if you talk to me,

I'll tell you about your friend.

I would like my phone call.

(CHUCKLES) Phone call?
No, it doesn't work like that.

You give us the name of an attorney,
and we will contact them on your behalf.

In the meantime, you and I just wait,

unless you have something to say to me.

I have played by the rules for so long.

Not from where I'm sitting.

No, not your rules.

You work at the behest of a system
so broken

that you didn't even notice
when it became corrupted at its core.

When I first broke your rules,

a sitting president had authorized
assassination squads in Laos,

and the head of the FBI had ordered
his men, you,

to conduct illegal surveillance
on his political rivals.

Your rules have changed
every time it was convenient for you.

I was talking about my rules.

I have lived by those rules for so long,

believed in them for so long,

believed that
if you played by the right rules,

eventually you would win.

But I was wrong, wasn't I?

And now all of the people I cared about
are dead,

or will be dead soon enough.

We will be gone without a trace.

So now I have to decide,

decide whether to let my friends die,
to let hope die,

to let the world be ground under your heel
all because I played by my rules.

I'm trying to decide.

I'm going to kill you,

but I need to decide
how far I'm willing to go.

How many of my own rules
I'm willing to break

to get it done.

Look, you want to add threatening
the life of a federal agent to your file,

I will draw up those charges right now.

No waiting is required.

I wasn't talking to you.

No, no. No damn chance of that.

No, this guy's ours.

I don't care who the hell
those suits think they are.

Get him back into holding.

(DOOR OPENS)

You're way out of your jurisdiction.

(CONVERSATION CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

(DOOR BUZZING)

ROBERTS: Hey, Dennis.

They said they're calling Washington.

(CONVERSATION CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY)

(TELEPHONE RINGING)

THE MACHINE: Can you hear me?

Root?

No, Harold.

I chose a voice.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATION)

This place, can you get me out of it?

You created me.
I can do anything you want me to.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(MEN SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

NYPD Homicide. What happened here?

Someone out the power,
opened all the cell doors.

Last count, 600 prisoners escaped
out the backdoor.

National Guard being called up.

You got any weapons in that thing?
We're going to need you.

Fusco.

We need to get to Finch.

I got a feeling Finch isn't here anymore.

Samaritan didn't want him dead,
at least not if they could capture him.

Then why did his number come up?

I think it was warning us
about what he might do to them.

(ROCK MUSIC CONTINUES)

(GUNSHOTS IN DISTANCE)

English - SDH