All language subtitles for Person.of.Interest.S04E03.720p.BluRay.x264-DEMAND

We are being watched.

The government has a secret system.

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

I designed the machine to detect
acts of terror, but it sees everything.

Violent crimes involving
ordinary people.

The government
considers these people irrelevant.

We don't.

Hunted by the authorities,
we work in secret.

You will never find us.

But victim or perpetrator,
if your number's up, we'll find you.

...Left over there.
Now, if you take a look at your right...

N.Y.P.D.

- Oh, my God. What happened?
- What the hell are you doing?

- Catching the bad guys.
- We had three RMPs coming.

You know, a little thing called backup?

Sometimes we wait for it instead
of shooting people and causing mayhem.

It's hot as hell out here.
Figured I'd save us time.

Listen, you're not a lone wolf anymore, pal.
You're a cop.

You need to start respecting the job.

- Rules and regulations come with that badge.
- Like you haven't bent those rules before?

I don't anymore. You know who else doesn't?
The new captain.

Well, that was novel. Shooting
a perp in front of hundreds of witnesses?

Subtle. The guy's probably gonna
need crutches for the rest of his life.

What is that, the third of fourth guy
you knee-capped this month, Riley?

Fourth, ma'am.

I suppose I should give you points
for being such a good shot.

You were supposed to be working
the Bowman homicide.

What the hell were you doing chasing
a druggie smash-and-grabber in midtown?

- We were working a developmental.
- Into what, an early grave?

We got CIs all over town.

Those CIs help you close any cases yet?

The Compstat numbers
are an embarrassment.

Homicides are up 20 percent
in the last two months.

I'm ready to fire me.

What's going on, gentlemen?

It's the heat wave. Tempers flare.

The city's taking a turn for the worse.

We need to do a better job
of getting out in front of this thing.

I need to know, are you working with me,
or against me?

We just want to do our job.

So get your asses out there
and show me what you can really do.

Yes, ma'am.

Hey, you, in the fancy suit.

You're part of a team now.

No more narco cowboy nonsense.

And try not to shoot anyone for a few days.
You hear me?

Loud and clear.

You heard what she said.

- We've got work to do.
- Relax, Lionel.

Listen, Mr. Fabulous.

I've got a mortgage, alimony,
and a kid going to college in a few years.

You see this place? This is my livelihood.

And it's filled with too much bureaucracy
and not enough direct action.

This is my real life, detective.

Not some superhero cover identity.

Okay.

- I hear you.
- Yeah.

No, I'll work on it.

I've spent the past two decades learning
how not to color inside the lines.

May take me a second or two to figure it out.

- Riley.
- Detective Riley, we have a new number.

Now's not the best time, professor.
I'm at work.

Circumventing suspicious employers
is part of our new challenge, John.

Please, hurry.

Go get it, Bear. Go get it. Go get it.

Go get him, Bear. Go get him.

Miss Shaw, please.
He doesn't need any more encouragement.

Don't you want him to catch it?

Not if it involves finding rat entrails
in our new office, no.

Bear, here.

While the machine may have given us
a place of operation...

...it didn't account for
our financial situation.

I'm afraid your meals and rent are going
to start coming out of your actual paychecks.

Good thing I'm working two jobs.
The makeup counter pays like crap.

Do you know how expensive
a nice pair of heels are? What a racket.

Until I can access some auxiliary funds...

...we have no choice but to commit
to our identities' socio-economic status.

Copy that. Ramen and Two-Buck Chuck
for the rest of the month.

We'll need to make this fast.
I'm on the new captain's hit list.

- And my partner's.
- What, did you shoot somebody else?

You have to be more careful, John.
The identities the machine created for us...

...are precious commodities
not to be taken for granted.

It was hot out.

Never mind.
Let's hear about that new number.

Andre Cooper.

Born and raised in the Bronx.

Former longshoreman
turned professional social liaison.

- A social what?
- A professional wingman.

He's the guy people hire
when they can't pick up women.

Why leave a union gig
to teach desperate men pick-up tricks?

I suggest we get close
to Cooper's operation and find out.

You mean go undercover as a client?

Not it, Finch.

Oh, don't worry, Reese.

Harold and I decided that we needed
somebody with a few more people skills.

And a little less hair gel.

- I have a phone.
- Not that one. Use this.

Where the hell is this guy?

Relax, Fusco.

He's probably just some con artist
who's in over his head.

Have some fun with it.

You're not the one pretending
to need professional help to get a date.

Then, when was the last time
you had a date, Lionel?

Looks like professional help just arrived.

How you doing? Fusco.

Your friend Harold didn't warn me what I was
dealing with. Could've been more upfront.

- Excuse me?
- He bought you a two-day package.

This is more like a five-day situation.

Maybe seven. You're in insurance?

- Yeah, that's right.
- Like an online business?

- Look, I don't need to take this crap.
- All right. Come on. Sit down.

Think about meeting women
like you're selling yourself, all right?

They need to feel like you've made an effort.

That you didn't just roll out of bed and
throw on yesterday's suit with a new shirt.

Crap, that is yesterday's suit.

I'm here to teach you how to earn
a woman's affections, not trick her.

And you, my friend, you need to do better.

- Oh, yeah?
- Yeah.

Because if this is you dressing to impress,
well, I am not.

- The ladies aren't gonna be either.
- He's got a point.

What's wrong with what I'm wearing?

I don't know where to start.

Faded color, the fire-proof fabric,
that sad tie.

If you're going for the least modern man
in this room, you have won.

I've won a few boxing matches too.
Wanna go a few rounds?

Come on. Let's get to work.

Where we going?

Shopping.

I hope you have a decent line of credit.

I think I know who's gonna kill our guy.

- Who?
- Me.

What may I do for you, Miss Groves?

It's very...

I think the word
you're looking for is "Spartan."

Yes. And well hidden.

She gave you and the kids a nice new home.

I'll ask again.

- The machine needs a favor.
- No.

She knew you'd doubt her motives.

Let her make it up to you.

She promises it will be worth something
to all three of you.

What is it that the machine wants?

I don't know yet.
She gave me very little to go on.

She can't talk to me the way she used to
with Samaritan watching.

But I do know where to start.

Excellent. A wild-goose chase.

I'd like to think of it more
as a scavenger hunt.

- Where's your partner?
- Um...

Re-interviewing suspects on a case.

How's that working out for you?

Pfft. How's it look?
One patch is not enough.

Yeah, I could have told you that
from your chewed-up fingernails.

That's a pretty good parlor trick.
You putting those skills to work in the field?

I got a lead on Wendy Montgomery's murder.

Realtor was shot walking home from work.
Looked like a mugging.

Yeah. Her husband was the prime suspect,
but we didn't have any real leads.

Well, we do now.

He's been e-mailing with a known hit man.

How did you get these?

You know those developmentals
I've been working on?

You need to know more than that?

If you want to play fast and loose, fine.

But make sure you nail him
with something solid.

Copy that, ma'am.

Finch, where are you hiding?

Did you discover anything new
about Andre Cooper?

Well, I scrubbed through his inbox
and I found some e-mails between Cooper...

...and a client's ex-wife.

- They were sleeping together.
- Not the best business decision.

Client didn't think so either.

So he sent a bunch of e-mails threatening
to kill our wingman.

So Mr. Cooper's romantic entanglements
have put him in danger.

That's what I thought
until I got into his voicemails.

Our boy was subpoenaed 10 days ago.

- What for?
- Investigation into a missing gun shipment...

...from the New York Container Terminal,
Cooper's old workplace.

That container disappeared the same time...

...our boy swapped
his well-paying dock-worker gig...

...for his sketchy career helping
socially incompetent men pick up women.

Sounds like a solid avenue of investigation.

Yeah. I could really use
an extra hand here, Finch.

Well, that's why we recruited
Detective Fusco.

Yeah, uh, Fusco's gonna be a bit
more preoccupied than we thought.

I don't know. This just ain't me.

I mean, who wears cuff links anyway?
How do you put these things on?

You're right, cuff links and tailored pants
are for suckers that just wanna meet women.

Maybe we could get you a track suit
and a Barcalounger.

- What's wrong with a tracksuit?
- Are you a track star, Lionel?

I didn't think so. Try harder.

- Does this stuff really work?
- Trust me.

- You think I roll out of bed looking like this?
- I don't know.

Women aren't lining up to date a guy who
alternates football jerseys for his wardrobe.

- Easy, pal.
- Don't you love when a girl fixes her hair up?

Wears that hot dress just for you?

You think four-inch heels are comfortable?

- Never really gave it any thought.
- They probably hurt like hell.

But women wear them anyway.
Why? Because guys like it.

So let's give the ladies a little respect.
Show them that you can make an effort too.

No.

Once you have their attention,
it's up to you to keep it.

- You gonna show me how to do that too?
- One thing at a time, Don Juan.

Why don't we start with you losing
those Florsheims? You look like a cop.

- When's the last time you had a girlfriend?
- None of your business.

See, I can't help you if you don't open up.

I'm like a therapist in that way.

No thanks, doc. Not interested.

- Her name was Rhonda.
- All right.

We went out a bunch of times,
but she just kind of faded away.

- These things never work out anyway.
- See, that's your problem there.

- You're cynical.
- Not cynical. I just know people are terrible.

Oh, man. A cynical misanthrope.

I don't know what they did to you
at that insurance job, but it made you sour.

And women do not like sour.

Don't know how to break it to you, but
I'm not a unicorn and rainbows kind of guy.

I'm not saying that you need to be naive.

Just a little less pessimistic.

Don't see a ring on your finger.
What's your story?

I'm not in a mental state
to be in a relationship right now.

Those who can't do, teach. Right?

No.

- So how'd you get in the business?
- I'm good with people.

That still remains to be seen.

Um, I was always helping
my friends meet girls.

Once my buddy asked me to help him
on the side, said he'll pay.

A business is born.
Two years later, he's getting married.

So have some hope.

I got hope,
that this speech is gonna end soon.

Keep living in the past,
you're gonna wind up alone.

Can't run away from your past either.

Mr. Egret, it's an honor.

I've read a lot about you, sir.

Your tour in the Gulf.
Your work with Blackwater.

Who's the hottie?

She's none of your concern.

An AT4 anti-tank shoulder launched
munition system...

...with 84 mm rounds
and a firing range of 300 meters.

Nice piece of machinery.

Fifty-thousand as agreed.

It's nice doing business with a legend.
Hope we work together again someday.

Mr. Egret, you mind telling us
what you plan to do with the missile?

Just out of curiosity.

You know, I would mind. Very much.

- What are we gonna do with this?
- I don't know yet.

I am truly enjoying
this new side of you, Harold.

It's very unexpected.

Dare I ask how you procured
that amount of money?

It involved some breaking and entering.

I take it these men will just continue
to sell munitions on the black market.

Have a little faith, Harry.

Put the case down.

Hands in the air!

See? She's still doing her job, Harold.

Always watching.

Time to go.

Okay, here we go.

Don't speak unless spoken to.
I'll handle the intros.

- Okay, but...
- No talking.

Listening. Make eye contact.
Be polite. Don't be a doormat.

Smile, but not too much.
You don't want to look like a crazy person.

But most of all...

...have fun, Lionel.

All right.

Sorry.

Well, that went poorly.

Although I have heard in some cultures,
spilling drinks on a woman is a mating ritual.

- I was starting not to hate you.
- You gotta relax, man.

You're treating this like some kind of a job.

Guess I'm a little rusty.

You know her?

No, but I will soon.

- Hey, Mick. Wow, it's been...
- Almost a year.

Mickey's an old friend from the docks.
We've known each other a long time.

Yeah, way before you'd ever come
in a place like this.

So true. So, what got you here?

My cousin's staying at the hotel.
Thought I'd come get a drink.

Who's this guy? Client?

This is Lionel. He's new.

It was a gift from a friend. A guy I know.

Hey, don't worry, killer.
Andre actually hooked me up with my wife.

He's the best pickup artist you'll ever meet.

Hey, you live in midtown, right?
Midtown east?

- Yeah, that's right.
- We gotta grab a meal sometime soon.

It's great seeing you, man. Take care.

- I saw that.
- Oh, boy.

Hey, pal.

Checking out my girl?

You know what,
I didn't realize she was anyone's girl.

Yeah, right.

N.Y.P.D. You're cut off for the rest
of the night. You understand me?

Who the hell are you?

Did you finish making your statement?

I did.

Do you have a statement?

Like why you lied to me
about what you do for a living?

Am I under investigation, Lionel?

Did you do something
to warrant an investigation?

No. Of course not.
You're avoiding the question.

- Fusco.
- Hold up, Lionel.

I think our number might be a perp after all.

- What'd you find?
- Open homicide in Red Hook on Milo Jacobs.

He worked security on the docks
up until nine months ago.

Same time that gun shipment went missing.

I've got phone calls here
between Milo and Cooper.

Maybe they stole that shipment together.

Just my partner checking in.

Well?

I lied because cops don't hire wingmen.

The guys find out,
they'll bust my chops to my grave.

Well, the day's not done.
And your friend paid in advance, so...

- What? You want to keep going?
- You're a hero. We should capitalize on that.

I have another event we could catch.

What's the worst that could happen?

The chef's confession is on there.

You got Wendy Montgomery's husband.
Well done, Riley.

- Mm-hm.
- I won't ask about the eye.

Where's your partner?
I wanna congratulate him too.

Fusco's taking the lead on another case.

- What's next?
- That car-dealership owner who got shot.

He was embezzling money
from his own company.

You think his employees were in on it.

I think they found out where he was hiding
the money and killed him for it.

Tapped into their credit reports.

They've spent a lot of money
since their boss's death.

Do I wanna know
how you got those credit reports?

Bad morning?

Ugh. My pocketbook still smells
like cigarettes.

Quitting has me edgy as hell.
But it was either the patch...

...or a hypnotherapist,
and I don't believe in hippie nonsense.

Maybe we can use that edginess of yours
to our advantage.

I'm intrigued.

Tell me more.

- I told you no more developmentals.
- I was working up a lead.

Your numbers are down, Riley.
If you don't start closing more cases...

...I'm gonna ship you off to Evidence lockup
and find someone who can.

I'm Detective Riley.

Which one of you wants to go first?

I've already been questioned. Didn't know
anything then, don't know anything now.

I heard a rumor Mr. Bowman
had a bit of a temper.

I also heard you were sick
of him taking it out on you.

Yeah, well, you'd be sick of it too.

He'd scream at us if we didn't sell enough,
or if we weren't pushing upgrades.

Yeah, well, not everyone wants fog lights.

My ballbuster of a captain out there,
she is all over me...

...about closing up this case
before the end of the day.

I'm just worried about my job,
so, what do you say we make a deal?

I don't know what you mean.

- I don't know anything.
- Come on, Lenny.

You found out where Bowman
was keeping the money and you killed him.

- That's not true.
- Sure it is.

What I don't know...

...is which one of you
wants to make a deal with me first.

What kind of deal?

You help me close up this case,
give me half the money...

...and we'll make this all go away.

Hell, we'll even make sure
that Lenny takes the fall for it.

Barry's gonna say it was all your idea.

He's a liar. This was all Barry.

Half?

Half.

Fine. But this all falls on Barry,
not me, right?

Does that work for you, captain?

Looks like you closed another case, Riley.

Keep it up, you'll get
that set of steak knives.

Most fun I've had in a while. Good game.

- You too.
- Love to celebrate, but you're on a roll...

It's a priority homicide.
Came in from the Commissioner's Office.

Illegal street vendor recanted his statement.

Vendor's scared. Be scarier
than the guy who made him clam up.

Yes, ma'am.

See, Lionel? Eye contact.

Yeah, Lionel.

Women's charities
are a great way to meet ladies.

You're outnumbered
and it's for a good cause.

- Isn't that a little tacky?
- I prefer the word "strategic."

Stop primping, gorgeous.
Somebody's watching you.

Lady by the silent auction.

Great smile.

What do we do?

She's already done all the work for you.
Now off you go.

Are you feeling a little exposed...

...having an anti-tank missile
in the middle of Manhattan?

Or is it just me?

Samaritan won't be looking
for a college professor with an AT4.

- It's not Samaritan I'm worried about.
- Then who?

Homeland Security, N.Y.P.D.,
an errant meter maid.

Egret?

- And you are...?
- The frigging Dalai Lama.

I'm Jerry.

The guy who was sent by the other guy you
contacted about the thing you're selling?

You have a buyer for us?

I thought Egret would be more, uh, bad-ass.

I mean, you got that rep, you know?

You don't look so tough.

That's because I have only two modes, Jerry.

Calm and furious.

It's a rare person that sees the latter
and lives to talk about it.

Okay. Okay.

I got you. Everyone relax now.

Follow me.

I like it too. I don't know
what it is, but I like it. Heh-heh.

Oh, come on, Fusco.
Just ask her for her number already.

We need to figure out
if your new buddy is a killer.

Wait a sec.

Who's this guy?

Longshoreman.

Fusco, grab Andre
and go out the back exit now.

Um, I'm sorry. I have to go.

What are you doing?
Why didn't you get her number?

You're in danger.
We need to get you out now.

Hey there.

Wicked stomach cramps.

Back up.

- Mick, you don't know what you're doing.
- I'm afraid you got that the other way around.

Get him in. Bring them both. Go.

Let's go. Move.

You know, I went back to the art gallery.

That fake security guard,
he hightailed it out of there.

They must want something from Andre,
otherwise he'd already be dead.

- Ungh.
- Sorry.

Mickey and Cooper must have stolen
that shipment together.

I bet someone double-crossed someone.

We need to track Mickey's van.

You're a cop now.
Full access pass to Domain Awareness.

Thanks to Big Brother,
we can be watching too.

This has been time-stamped 20 minutes ago.

Let's move.

I can't, Shaw. Captain Moreno handed me
a priority homicide.

- What do you think this is gonna be?
- She's got me under a microscope.

If she figures out who I really am,
Samaritan will too, and we'll all be dead.

Riley.

Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way
to interview the vendor now...

Well, he's been a little bit hard
to find, ma'am.

Fine. But I'm taking the dog.

You want to tell me
what you got me involved in?

I'm sorry, Lionel.

I thought Mickey was out of my life for good.

What did you ass clowns do?

Not me. Mickey.

Some dealer named Dominic paid him off
to disappear a container full of guns.

He just deleted it out of the system.

The DA suspects Mickey's involved.
They want me to testify. I said I wouldn't.

How come?

You know how hard it is
to turn your back on your friends...

...because it's the right thing to do?

Yeah. I know a little bit about that.

Then you understand
why I didn't say anything.

What are you girls gossiping about?

Andre was telling me what a moron you are
for kidnapping a cop.

Yeah, that came as a bit of a surprise.
Since when are you hanging out with cops?

Lionel's a client, and he's a good man.

- Let him go.
- It's too late for that, buddy.

Now, just tell me
what you've been saying to the DA.

I already told you. Nothing.

I want to believe that.

You've known me for 15 years.
You're like a brother.

- You know I'm telling the truth.
- You were my brother. You abandoned me.

Because you got greedy. You took
an honest job and you turned it dirty.

- I made a business deal.
- Yeah.

With a criminal street gang.

- Now you got good men doing bad things.
- Good men do bad things all the time.

You're worse than those dealers,
because you turned on your friends.

- Like Milo.
- I did what I had to do.

Look, if you kill a cop,
the feds are gonna come looking for you.

No, they're gonna come looking for you.

Because that is how I'm gonna set it up.

Get them ready.

I saw nothing. I told them.

You were in Red Hook the night
the victim died. We traced your cell.

I wasn't even there.

I'm not lying.

What if I help your memory?

Here's how this works.

You remember something useful...

...and I give you this envelope...

...in exchange for one
of these lovely handbags.

These are genuine, right?

Sell me this purse,
and you get to start a new life.

But first, you need to tell me what you saw.

- Certain we can trust these men?
- Trust them? Of course not.

Can't trust anyone, Egret.

What world are you living in?

This is gonna be interesting.

It's going to be a lot less interesting
once we're dead, Miss Groves.

Okay, Bear. On three. One, two...

Zoek, Bear. Zoek.

I hired a friend to make sure
this container never reaches its destination.

Don't worry. You'll probably die
of heat stroke before you drown.

Let's go.

The famous Mr. Egret.

Seems you materialized, uh,
out of nowhere.

Now you are everywhere.

How is that?

I'm a very private person.

Yes.

I am as well.

You're lucky you know my friend Jerry.

We don't trust outsiders.

One hundred fifty thousand.
Would you like to count it?

Mr. Egret and I are certain
the money's all there.

- No, I can't do this.
- Harold.

I'm sorry. This is no longer for sale.

I thought you were a man of your word,
Mr. Egret.

Not if it involves selling a rocket launcher
to the Mob.

Any Mob.

That happens to be a line
I'm not willing to cross.

She knows you so well, Harold.

Now we get to kill two birds with one stone.

Should we tie them up just in case?

What was the point of all this,
Miss Groves?

How did this ridiculous journey
help anyone?

Let me show you.

You're right. These cuff links
are good for something.

Neat trick.

Who are you really, Lionel?

A concerned third party.

What now?

I think your friend wasn't kidding
about the heat stroke.

There's no way we can bust out of here.

- Hey! Hey!
- Hey!

Think anyone can hear us?

What are you doing here?

Me? What are you doing?
I thought you were playing detective.

That priority homicide
traced back to our number.

The guy selling knockoff handbags
saw a dock worker kill their victim.

That homicide you picked up
was Milo Jacobs?

That's our guy.

Where is Fusco?

Here somewhere.

Bear, zoek.

Mickey and his goons are still out there.

You get Fusco and the pickup artist.
I'm gonna go hunting.

- Hey!
- Hey!

- Fusco?
- We're in here.

- Nice of you to show up.
- Was about to close my third case of the day.

I wanted to make sure
I had a chance to brag about it.

Mickey's still out there.
I'm gonna get him.

They never give you enough ammo.

Look out, Lionel.

Bear, heel.

- Thanks for the backup.
- Anytime.

- Nice moves, wingman.
- You too.

Hey, guys.
Give me a hand there, will you?

Come on, you.

I have you to thank
for this lovely knockoff, Riley?

Well, it wasn't my color.

Heard your old one smelled like an ashtray.

- Who are these mooks?
- Latvian Mob.

We got an anonymous phone call.
Found them in a Chinatown sweatshop.

Very strange case.

They were all shot in the knees.

If I didn't know better,
I'd think it was your doing, Riley.

Great work today, guys.
You really managed to turn things around.

- Thank you, captain.
- Drinks on me tonight.

I, uh...

I guess you figured out
how to be a good cop after all.

It's a process, Lionel.

Listen, about those drinks tonight?
I, uh... I've got somewhere to be.

Cooper came through on the dating front?

Right over there.

Thank you.

- I'll be back, okay?
- Okay.

Hey.

A club soda and a glass
of Chardonnay, please.

You spill your drink on her yet?

That's a mating ritual in some cultures.

I'm testifying against Mickey and his boys.

You were right. You can't run from your past.

At least not without getting shot at, right?

Remember, eye contact, confidence.
Make sure you're having fun.

Andre, I got this.

I know you do.

But if you ever need a refresher course,
you give me a call.

Done.

- Here you go. Hi.
- Hi.

Thank you. Welcome back.

Our Latvian friends
won't be needing these supplies anymore.

This was the machine's plan?

She believes in saving
your irrelevant numbers, Harold.

And while you can't access
any of your old bank accounts right now...

...things are looking up.

Heh.

The only way the machine could give us
this kind of financial assistance...

...was to do so in a way
that Samaritan would never discover.

Ill-gotten gains put to good use.

Maybe it's time
you give her a second chance.

What'll we do with the missile?

I'm sure we'll think of something.