All language subtitles for MILLENNIUM - S02 E03 - Sense and Antisense (576p - DVDRip)

(machine-gun fire)

Cab! Cab!

Cab!

Taxi! Taxi!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

No need for that.

I'd have stopped for you.

Yeah, buddy. I know the game.

Everyone suddenly off duty. Right?
It's not just the white cats, man.

- Some brothers play that too.
- (coughs)

Yeah, man, don't nobody
care about nobody no more.

The colour don't even matter.

Black, brown, yellow, white.

Don't matter. Everyone only
worries about their own interests.

- Man!
- Trucks!

Don't bleed on my seats.
They make me clean that up.

Trucks!

I picked him up in my cab. He was
going on about people doing stuff to him.

- What stuff?
- Two guys after him.

- He kept saying "Trucks, the trucks".
- BP 240.

'(c011 h.
- Umg S)

(coughs)

BP 260 over 140. This guy's
gonna stroke on us, doctor.

(man) IV push and a Nipride drip, nil 0.4mg
nitro patch. Anybody? I'm open to ideas.

- (man #2) 20mg sub-q.
- (man 113) Workin' on it.

Have you admitted this man?

I take it you're not
immediate family.

They just took him into Trauma.

BP 140 over 90.

He's going to sleep a long time.
There's no need to stick around.

(monitor beep accelerates)

Trucks.

Trucks!

They want to kill me.

Whoa! Hold up. I can't let you in here.
Where's your ID? This is an emergency room.

- Where is he?
- Who?

All right, listen. We're from
the Center for Disease Control.

This area is under quarantine.
Nobody goes in or out.

Complete body-fluid
precautions are to be exercised.

So, what type of calls are these?
Are they like phone-card solicitations?

Or the "Do you have Prince
Albert in a can?" variety?

Or are they like a guy breathing
and, you know, treating himself?

- They're not calls, just hang-ups.
- Well...

I'm connecting an ECBH-79
caller-identification unit to your phone.

The digital read-out will reflect the
phone number of the person calling,

and put an end
to this harassment.

You owe me 65 bucks.

- That your family?
- Mm-hm.

Your wife's a babelicious.
No wonder you're getting calls.

(phone rings)

Hello. This is it.

You ready?

Hello? Hello?

(dialling tone)

Whoever called has blocked caller ID.
The phone company does it for a price.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

All you need now is a device
to undo their caller block.

The LMU-83 will override
their override very nicely.

It's more James Bondian but
we are living in a Blofeldian world.

- Just hook it up, Q.
- (phone rings)

I'll take care of it.

(white noise)

Do you know a
Detective Geibelhouse?

(Frank) Hey, Geibelhouse.

I hope the Group doesn't
mind I brought you in on this.

These Disease Control
guys give me the creeps.

What is this Patient
Zero carrying?

They're keeping tight-lipped,
which drives my guys nuts.

If it leaks we could
start a public panic.

- (Frank) Any luck with the driver?
- (Geibelhouse) Good and bad.

The good luck is we got the
cabby's name. Gerome Knox.

The bad luck is he didn't show up
for work, and he's not in his apartment.

Worse luck, if he's hiding Zero...
we now got two infected guys.

The subject we're searching for
has been designated Patient Zero.

Two days ago, Zero appeared
at the Olympia Plasma Centre,

suffering from delusions,
hallucinations and echopraxia.

He wanted to sell his
blood, which a routine

panel showed to be
positive for many things.

They turned him over to us. We found
what we believe is a haemorrhagic pathogen,

previously found only in the Congo,
similar in structure to Filovirus simian.

Are we talking yellow space
suits? The whole Outbreak number?

We're hopeful this is
limited to body fluids.

Hopeful?

Ginelli! Simmer down.

There's no way I go chasing some
toxic boonge until I get a straight answer.

- What's with this guy?
- Paranoid schizophrenic.

One neat aspect.

Even in his hurry to escape,

this man took the time to fold five
pieces of surgical tape back on themselves,

leaving nothing sticky exposed.

I've seen this in paranoid schizophrenics.
One neat aspect in a disorganised picture.

So he's a neat freak. How
does that help us find him?

I don't think we should
consider this man a fugitive.

If he was hiding, he wouldn't
have talked to the cab driver.

I think he wants to be seen and
heard and he wants to tell his story.

The cab picked him
up at Yesler and Third.

That's a block and a half
from the Seattle Tribune.

(man) The truth
is not out there.

(receptionist) A guy starts
crazy talking, I call Janitorial.

Usually ends with
them whipping it out and

taking a whiz, right
where you're standing.

- Did you see this guy before last night?
- No.

And working late shift, you
get to know all the nutballs.

Suppression!

11.18. Just before Knox
picks him up in his cab.

So, I tell him the
Seattle Tribune doesn't

want his crazy-assed
story. Watch this part.

Guy goes bananas.

Truckloads! Truckloads!

Truckloads of John
Does! Vanishing!

Lot of personnel for one lunatic.
What, he kill some rich guy?

If he shows up again...

He won't.

He'll go elsewhere. He'll go some
place open to hearing what he has to say.

- Tuskegee!
- If you say so.

They denied.

Apologised, then denied.

MKULTRA! COINTELPRO! DOE!

- Hey, write this down, man.
- AC-TG!

He don't have to write it down.
It's everyone! It's everywhere!

Hold the phone.
Who the hell are you?

- OK, who the hell are you?
- Man, tell him about the trucks.

He told me about the trucks.

You're supposed to
be a reporter, brother.

I'm telling you, someone's
oppressing this man.

Know how many times a
week I hear that, brother?

From everyone. Asians say it's black
people. Black people say it's white.

- White people say it's extraterrestrials.
- No, man.

I saw two guys after
him at the hospital.

Two guys at a hospital
ain't proof of a damn thing.

He could be a criminal
for all I know, or you know.

Him? Man, they're the
criminals! Man, look, look, look.

I know it's hard to follow, but this
man is coming from a poetic place.

Hear me, man. Listen,
man. 30 years ago,

people said the US
government was using

black men as an
experiment to die of syphilis

was another whacked-out conspiracy
theory like aliens or something...

Tuskegee! Tuskegee! Tuskegee!

Tuskegee is over, man.
The President has apologised.

This man needs an apology.

- If he lives to hear it.
- (tyres squeal)

No!

Do you hear me, man?

You just gonna ignore me?

- They're coming.
- Here.

- Down the hall, door on the right.
- Come on!

Take the blue Impala.
And the story's ours!

This way, this way! Come on!

He's with them!

Get out of the way! Get
out of the way! Yeah!

Hold it. This is a place
of business. You are

now standing in the
public part of that place.

The rest is private and off limits
to you without a search warrant.

How's this?

(Geibelhouse) We're
here to help you.

I want to help you.

Nothing.

Oh!

Easy does it, guy.

Easy does it.

(man) OK, we got him.

Either one of you ever planning to
mention you got the damn plague?

(I "Gyp the Cat" by Bobby
Darin plays on stereo)

(water running)

(Geibelhouse) Frank.

- They've tested the stain on your shirt.
- What did they find?

Nothing. No virus. It's
clean as a kicker's uniform.

- It wasn't your blood?
- Definitely his.

What about the Centers
for Disease Control?

They had no idea
who I was talking about.

The Plasma Centre? Doesn't
have any knowledge of this.

- Then who was after him?
- Frank.

The guy was nuts.
Conspiracy this, conspiracy that.

We went to his office. I worked
for them. That wasn't his delusion.

And now that office is gone.

- We were used, Geibs. He knew that.
- How could he know that?

I was the only person
beside Knox who said

I wanted to help him.
He wanted to help me.

He wanted me to know they were lying.
That's why he gave me the blood sample.

And I gave him up, too.
I don't know who or why.

(phone rings)

- Hello.
- Mr Black? It's Roedecker.

Brian Roedecker. Is
the LMU-83 functional?

- (Frank) Anonymous.
- Hm.

Activate the switch on
the side of the LMU-83.

Got it. Thank you, Roedecker.

Soylent Green is people.

Suppression! Oppression!

The FBI!

CIA!

COINTELPRO!

Truckloads! Truckloads
of John Does!

The DOE!

The AC-TG!

Sense! Antisense!

The AC-TG!

(phone rings)

Who is this? Who
the hell is this?

(dialling tone)

Why didn't you tell
me you took this job?

- I wasn't on a case with the Group.
- We're always on call.

I'm only officially a consultant.
I'm trying to feed my family, Pete.

The situation with Catherine
has created new responsibilities.

I've got two of everything. Two
sets of toys, two rentals and a house.

You should have come to us.

It didn't seem like the
Group would be interested.

An infected transient,
essentially a missing person.

It appeared to have
no deeper meaning.

You're right, but now it does have a
deeper meaning, and not just conspiracy.

They used you, believing that when you
realised the consequences of their actions

you would walk away.

That's why I'm working on making
you more than officially a consultant,

because you and
I... the Group...

we don't walk away.

This isn't even about money
now. I'm responsible for this man.

We'll take the case.

I'll send this over
to our photo lab.

Look here, it appears
to have been retouched.

They're hiding something. A
tattoo, dog tags? I don't know.

- "Antisense."
- A reoccurring trope.

In microbiology, antisense is one
side of the double helix, half our DNA.

- The other side is called sense.
- Our genetic matter.

"It is in us." That's
what he keeps saying.

Although how he came
up with it, I don't know.

"Adenine, cytosine, thiamine."

Here.

Guanine. The four
nucleotides of DNA.

All right, I'll catch up with
you guys at the hole tonight.

- Ah!
- Nice cab. Brand new.

They took mine in for repairs.

- You'll never see it again.
- Look, I'm off duty.

I'm not.

I already talked
to your friends.

My friends don't lie to me.

My friends tell me the
truth. He trusted you.

He must have told
you who was after him.

That's easy, look in the mirror.

Yeah, they used you.

Now you know
how I feel every day.

- Tell me, man, am I infected?
- There was no virus in his body.

That's what he said.

- So he was telling the truth.
- You tell me.

Trucks. Trucks. He kept saying the trucks
was after him or somethin'. I don't know.

Talked about John Does.

He kept saying
"We're all vanishing."

"We're all John Does."

Here's my phone number. If you think
of anything, you give me a call, all right?

- So where are you going?
- To meet John Doe.

We get a lot. Couple
of hundred a year.

Street bums, transients, mostly.

Usually someone comes
forward, family member.

Most don't stay
John Does for long.

The eye, dilated iris.
Just like Patient Zero.

Could they be using these people,
then slipping them through the morgue?

Using the system to go
undetected because no one cares.

May we sit in on your
autopsy, Dr Clark?

We don't autopsy unless something
looks to be out of the ordinary.

Dilated eye usually indicates
organic brain damage.

Well, brain-damaged street
people, that's kind of our definition.

I would like blood
samples on this man,

and any other John Does that
come here with a dilated eye.

What do you expect to find?

Nothing.

- (yells)
- (man) OK, drop it, put it down.

Sir, I need you to
put the bar down.

- I don't want to hurt you!
- Sir, I need you to relax.

Put the ha! Gown. Just put
it down and nobody“ get hurt.

Just put it down.

I can't put it down!
I don't know how!

I can see you're
upset. I want to help.

Put the bar down.

Nobody's gonna hurt you.

Good. You're making a wise call.

' “Rah! 'Arqh!

Arab!

He's got something!

- Crime scene. Move out.
- I'm Frank Black.

And I'm Joe Yellow. Go on, out.

Detective Geibelhouse
told us he'd meet us.

Even if that's a real name, he ain't here.
This is an internal Affairs investigation.

- Who's in charge here?
- Lieutenant Wobenlottnee.

- Can we talk with him?
- Leave it here.

- What was it?
- Wobenlottnee or something.

Lieutenant?

Uh... Wobenlottnee?

(paramedic) Who's there'!?

(whistles)

Did you get a sample?

Yeah.

- Another John Doe out of control?
- He's not a John Doe. Look at the tag.

DOE.

Abbreviation.

- It stands for something.
- Dead On Examination?

DOE. The Department of Energy.

Whoa.

Easy. Another leap
and you'll connect this

to why Oswald wasn't
in the book depository.

The DOE started as the Atomic Energy
Commission, built the atomic bomb,

then radiation
experiments on humans.

Tests on vulnerable groups,
prisoners, mentally retarded.

They have historically developed
unconventional weapons.

You know what
they've gotten into now.

The Human Genome Project.

(PC) The Human
Genome Project is a vast

undertaking, expected
to produce a blueprint

of the functional and evolutional
history of the human species.

The goal of this
international 15-year effort

is to discover all of the
50,000 human genes,

and render them accessible
for further biological study.

Further biological study.

(phone rings)

- Yeah.
- (Gerome) I found another one.

(Gerome) This guy is kind
of worshipped down here.

I'd heard about him on the
streets even before Zero.

I'd always written him off,
though, as just another casualty.

And then I finally heard him.

Now you should, too.

Come here.

- After you.
- It's just down here.

(growls)

((0375)

Nowhere on planet earth
are people free of the trucks.

They travelled across
Rwanda dirt roads.

They ride on Kuwaiti highways.

They move through
these city streets!

- Can you hear them?
- (engines roar)

Can you hear them?

Do you hear them?

The trucks don't care. They don't care
if they're a fire truck or a dump truck.

They don't know if they are
a cargo truck or a tow truck.

They don't know.

But... we... know.

We know. Huh?

We know what we are,
we know what we do.

But nature, that
bitch is full of trucks.

At the minute of birth, a spotted
hyena will attack and kill its twin.

That won't make
the evening news, no.

Male mallard ducks will attack and
gang rape females until they drown,

but there will be
no trial on Court TV.

No.

White female squirrels will attack and
kill every baby in another female's nest,

and Larry King will not
analyse the handwriting. No.

But nature, that bitch,
has given us conscience,

so we must be made to do wrong.

Without us knowing, they
must make trucks out of all of us.

They have the map, the map.

They can make us go
down aw street they want to.

Streets that we would never
even dream of going down.

They flip a switch, we go east.

They flip another
switch, we go north.

And we never know...

we have been flipped...

let alone know how.

Man, I got a rush listening to
him. That man speaks the truth.

Gerome, he may speak the truth but
from a place of insanity. He's gone insane.

No, man, he is the only
one who understands, right.

I mean, they flipped the switch on him
but he fought through. Don't you get it?

A truck has no conscience.

It just does what the
driver wants it to do.

Oh, now I get it.

He can help us, Mr Black.

People only believe the sane.
Maybe they shouldn't but they do.

The only way to help him,
or Patient Zero, or anyone,

is to find out who is
doing this and stop 'em.

- He's too far gone to tell us anything.
- Maybe you're not crazy enough to listen.

You just a truck, Mr Black.

Truck!

Can't help you unless
you're going downtown.

Downtown, then.

This came from the blood
sample you got the other night.

We followed the antisense lead,
focused on the genetic material.

These genes are thought to
control higher cortical functions.

Here. Here's Patient Zero, this
is the street guy shot by the cop.

- They're both insane.
- Nobody would argue that.

But they're insane in
exactly the same way.

Look. Gene sites,
identical in the two men.

Exactly the same,
base pair for base pair.

Unless you buy an 18-billion-to-one
shot, no way that could happen naturally.

It's not like a gene
for hair colour.

They're splicing multiple genes
to control complex behaviour.

The Human Genome Project. The
biggest science event since the moon shot.

Public records indicate
they're not that far along.

Technically the program's unclassified.
But it does feel like a secret project.

The work's divided
among 5,000 facilities,

each analysing a tiny strand of
DNA, a small piece of the puzzle.

The big picture is
controlled from above.

What if one rogue facility
pieced together something

about a strain of genes
for their own purpose?

There's no way the Department
of Energy would be aware.

Untraceable genetic experiments
and untraceable human subjects.

Not a lot to go to.

The other John Does.

All of them are gone. 20
John Does out the door.

- If we missed something, it's gone.
- What happened to the coroner, Mr Clark?

Maybe he's on
vacation, I think. No, uh...

They fired him or
something. He's gone.

(Watts) More evidence
missing. They're cleaning up.

- What about our blood samples?
- (doctor) What blood samples?

His name is not John Doe.

Gerome Knox. That's his name.

Gerome Knox.

These are the facilities
involved in the project.

And you think one
has this Patient Zero?

- Yes, one of them.
- Closed session here.

- Check the guest list, dumpy.
- Did you get it?

I downloaded everything on
every facility within 200 miles.

It started out as a buttload,
but I did what you asked.

Eliminate any site
that's an obvious PR job,

high-school science classes,
women's colleges, Four-H Clubs.

Requires some military
connection and a stand-alone facility.

- Down to four and counting.
- What about trucks?

They use them to
recruit their John Does.

I've got company cars.

- Try subsidiaries, joint ventures.
- Hang on.

A vehicle that could move
unnoticed among the homeless.

There!

A mobile soup kitchen.
They donated trucks.

(Roedecker) 5603'!?

Project contact is a Dr William Kramer
MD, PhD in Genetic Engineering, ROTC.

Got his degrees on the GI Bill.

I tell you, it's The Omega
Man all over again.

There it is.

I'm supposed to get a search
warrant cos this place has soup trucks?

No, you're supposed
to get a warrant

because we turned Patient Zero
over to these guys. We're responsible.

You'll get it because nobody
here is going to walk away.

(man) Ready and
waiting for instructions?

- Yeah. Do it.
- Let's go.

Go! Go! Go, go, go! We're in.

- (Geibelhouse) Check every room.
- Move.

No one leaves. If he's
not here, I'm a dead man.

Excuse me. We believe this man is
in danger. Have you seen him here?

- We blew it.
- Don't even think that.

- We caught them heading out the back.
- Zero?

- Just these guys.
- You don't know what you're doing.

What is this place?
NSA? CIA? MYLAB?

A private biomedical facility
conducting important research.

Yeah, I heard. Wrap 'em up.

What are you people doing?

This is a serious
violation of our rights.

We had reason to believe
you were being held here.

Well, maybe some weekends,
but only because I work here.

We have you on video tape at the
Seattle Tribune, ranting, delusional.

We know what this place
is. What happened to you?

Did they infect you by accident?
Were you experimenting on yourself?

How can you keep doing this
when you know? You know.

I'm delusional?

Did you just hear yourself?

- Get out of my way.
- OK.

Party's over.

If you aren't out of here in 30 seconds,
we'll issue warrants for your arrest.

The system runs on John
Does. That's what you said.

Count 'em. How many are there?

HOW many?

What were you doing in Rwanda?

Peter, Rwanda, 1994.

Thousands of people get up, grab a
machete and kill the person next to them.

There's a frenzy of
blood-letting like never seen.

He was a research chemist.
What was he doing there?

In Bosnia, neighbours sent
neighbours for ethnic cleansing.

In this country, 12 year olds
shoot each other in the streets.

The world's a violent place. It's in
all of us, if the switch gets flipped.

But you know that.

(phone rings)

Visiontext Subtitles:
Paul Webster

(child) I made this.

ENGLISH SDH