All language subtitles for Fringe.S01E01.720p.x265-ZMNT_Subtitles01.ENG

The captain has turned on
the "fasten seat belt" sign.

Please make sure your seat belts
are securely fastened.

I don't speak German.
I'm from Denver.

I'm from Den...

- My friend, it is an electrical storm.
- I understand.

- Here. Gum?
- No. Uh, thank you.

AUTO PILOT ENGAGE

- Ha-ha-ha. Oh, my God.
- What?

- This bed is loud.
- You think?

We can't keep doing this,
sneaking around.

The department's not a massive fan
of office romance.

That policy seminar was endless,
wasn't it?

I kept staring at you.
I actually had to move my chair to stop.

- Well, I think Charlie knows.
- He doesn't know.

- Well, I think he does.
- If he knew, you would be transferred.

Somebody making the call whether
you and I get to live in the same city...

that's unacceptable.

Anyway, that's all just preamble
to the kicker, which is that...

I love you.

Olivia Dunham.

Yes, sir.

Of course, sir.
Yes, sir. I'm on my way.

Incident at Logan, international
flight, Charlie's on his way.

Agent Scott.

Olivia Dunham, FBI.

We got a flight out of Hamburg.
Hundred and forty-seven passengers.

Towers lost contact three hours in.

Thought it might've been
electrical interference.

They entered our airspace radio-silent.

Navy then scrambles
two F-18's for escort.

They reported stains in the windows,
no signs of life aboard the jet.

White House approved
a CDC request...

for the jet not to be opened
until they arrive.

No signs of life?
Who was flying the plane?

Logan's one of the first airports
with the PEARL autopilot system.

Plane landed itself right on time,
unlike every flight I've ever taken.

Let me assure you, we'd be happy
to treat you as family too.

Good old NTSB.
They all like to think they're cops.

- Agent Scott.
- Agent Francis. Agent Dunham.

Whatever the hell McNeary
saw through that window...

it made him throw up
in front of his whole unit.

Excuse me.

So, what's going on here?
Some sort of accident?

Tarmac's closed.
Nothing you have to worry about, sir.

- All right.
- Move it along.

I'll do that. Thanks.

Although this is a joint task force...

you are all now reporting
to the Department of Homeland Security.

I'm Special Agent in Charge Broyles.

DC has sent me here
to make sure we get results.

Standard level-four HAZMAT suits
are required to go in.

Members from each agency
on the starting line as follows:

CIA, Baronoff.
FBI, Charlie Francis and John Scott.

Everyone else stand by.

Okay, people, let's move.

Sir, Olivia Dunham,
FBI inter-agency liaison.

Liaison on an inter-agency task force.

Gotta love that.

Kind of like powdered sugar
on a glazed donut.

Excuse me, if I'm gonna
do my job effectively...

I like my information first-hand.

That's not redundancy,
that's accountability.

I know exactly who you are.

You want in, liaison? Suit up.

- What kind of terrorism is this?
- Who says it's terrorism?

Sources tell us
the plane was deliberately set ablaze...

by the CDC after all passengers'
remains had been removed...

leading to speculation
of hazardous...

- Seat 21 -A: John Rosenbloom.
- 43-B: Ellie Sampson.

Car salesman. Criminal history's negative.

Intelligence checks negative.

Have we reviewed video
from Hamburg?

We need to see if any passengers
were showing signs of illness.

We need names.

On its way, Dawson. What the hell's
taking so long with the black box?

- Police tell me that terminal shut down.
- Been down since 0400.

- You got any more questions?
- Who's point from CDC on the bone...?

Agent Paley,
you want his home number?

No, but I'd like the whole report,
and not just this...

We're on that too, liaison.

We don't think what happened
was a result of the in-flight movie.

Back Bay PD got a call at 0300 from
a guard on duty at a storage facility.

He saw two, and I quote,
"suspicious Middle Eastern men"...

handing a white guy a briefcase.
- Liaison.

Take it. Go find out.

Take what, that? You're telling me
that's my assignment?

Yeah, honey, would you mind?

The decision was made to burn
the plane only after it was determined...

Petty bastard.

He's pissed his best friend sexually
assaulted three Marine privates.

- I'm the bad guy, I put him away.
- Broyles is an idiot.

You're smarter, you're stronger,
you're much better looking. He's jealous.

What?

You said you loved me. In the motel.

Yeah.

That was a big deal.

Yeah, well, you didn't say anything back
so I just let it go.

I've been sort of bad at this
for a long time.

Until you.

I wanted to say I love you too.

Let's go check the trash together.

- Empty.
- Acetylene? Propane?

No. Ammonia.

- What are you doing?
- What are you doing?

I'm a federal agent.

We need to get a chem transport team
out here now.

I'm on it.

No signal.

Freeze. FBI.

I have a gun. I will shoot.

- John?
- We got a runner.

- Keep him alive.
- I'm on my way.

- Hands in the air.
- John!

You were very lucky today, Agent Dunham.

Your wounds could have easily
been much more severe.

Agent Scott wasn't as fortunate.

While he survived the initial blast...

Agent Scott was exposed
to some synthetic chemical compounds.

Work that was done
in the labs you found.

He's not contagious,
but until we understand more...

it's better not to introduce
any additional contaminants.

We haven't been able to identify
the substance that's affecting him.

The CDC has sent in specialists...

but, well, they've never seen anything
like what's happening here.

We've put Agent Scott
in a drug-induced coma.

His temperature
has been lowered significantly...

to try and slow the progress.

I'm sorry, Agent Dunham.

It's me. Liaison.

I found a connection
between the Hamburg flight...

and what's happened
to Agent Scott.

His name's Walter Bishop.

He's a scientific researcher
from Cambridge, born in '46.

Harvard-educated,
post-grad at Oxford and MIT.

Look at the experiments in the '70s.

Dr. Bishop might have information
that might tell us...

what happened aboard that plane
and save Scott's life.

Says the guy's been at St. Claire's
for 17 years.

I saw that.
An assistant was killed in his lab.

Rumors about Dr. Bishop
using humans as guinea pigs.

He was charged with manslaughter,
but deemed mentally unfit.

- Why're you so sure he's worth our time?
- Why are you so sure he's not?

Listen, you and I got off
on the wrong foot.

If my past job performance as U.S.
Marine Special Investigator offends you...

Well, yeah, it does.

A man who serves his country
30 years...

has a few drinks,
a lapse in judgment...

A lapse in judgment that will haunt
three women for the rest of their lives.

But that's not tonight's business,
is it?

Look, D.C. Has tasked me
to make sure...

that our reaction to Flight 627
is beyond reproach.

Now, it says here...

in 1991 the glorious state
of Massachusetts forbade Dr. Bishop...

from having any visitors,
with the exception of immediate family.

From where I sit, barging into a mental
institution waving the Patriot Act...

Which is what you'd need.

- And demanding face time
with some old lab rat...

who you think might be behind
the most terrifying terror I can imagine

I'm coming to you with a lead,
and your personal resentment...

You're wasting your breath and my time.
Do you understand "immediate family"?

You wanna question Dr. Bishop, go find
his next of kin, have them escort you.

Talk to Bishop, uncover something
substantial, and I will have your back.

Until then, I am not so convinced.
Now, can you handle that?

He does have a son.

Is the son local too?

Not exactly.

- So this guy's Walter Bishop's son.
- His name's Peter Bishop.

He's a high school dropout. IQ at 190,
which is 50 points north of genius.

Misfit. Nomad. Hasn't kept a job
longer than two months.

He's been a wildland fireman,
cargo pilot...

and, briefly,
a college chemistry professor.

He falsified a degree from MIT...

and even managed to get a few papers
published before he was found out.

Sounds like a massive pain in the ass.

My resume is hardly traditional.

Around these parts,
traditional increasingly means irrelevant.

Hundred billion sunk into infrastructure,
you can barely keep lights on.

You need someone to oversee
construction on 600 miles of pipeline...

to carry crude
between your fields and the port.

A job well outside the Green Zone,

I might add,
while I'm still alive to do so.

Someone who has a handle on
the laws of hydrodynamic resistance.

The heat exchange
in oil-mixture flows.

Someone who can work
with mixed integers.

You're gonna have to resize
as you work across uneven terrain.

That is if you wanna keep down
construction costs.

I also speak Farsi.

And 600,000 all-in sounds fair.

Peter Bishop?

Olivia Dunham, I'm with the FBI.

- Okay.
- You've heard of Flight 627?

- The Hamburg flight.
- You may be able to help us with that.

Ha, ha. No,
I think you got the wrong guy.

Your father is Walter Bishop.

Last time somebody asked me that
it was an accusation.

We're looking to speak with him.

Due to his current status,
only you can provide us access.

And what possible help
could that man be?

And what is it exactly
you're expecting me to do?

Hop on a plane with you
to Massachusetts?

I just got here, honey.

I can have you on a return flight here
in four days...

Let me save you the time.
I'd rather stay here in Iraq.

That's how much
I wanna see my father.

I'm going to beg you
as one human being to another.

Your father may be able
to save someone who's dying.

Someone I care about very much.

Sweetheart, we all care
about someone who's dying.

I can't help you. I'm sorry.

I know why you're here.

I have your file.

What file?

The one the FBI
would say doesn't exist.

And it has everything.

Where you've been.
What you're running from.

And what you need while you're here.

So either you come with me...

or I let certain people know
your whereabouts.

When do we leave?

Did the doctors say anything else? Yeah.

Thanks, Charlie.

Let me ask you something.

My father. Not my favorite.

He is without a doubt
the most self-absorbed...

twisted, abusive, brilliant,
myopic son-of-a-bitch on the planet.

So he was a chemist,
that much I already know.

He worked out of a basement lab
in Harvard...

doing research
for a toothpaste company.

I know there was an accident
at the lab one night.

My father was arrested.

Beginning the first
truly peaceful period in our home.

But here's the thing, Olivia.

My gut tells me that your friend's life,
the one hanging in the balance...

not gonna be saved
by a tube of toothpaste.

He worked out of Harvard.

But not on toothpaste.

He was part of a classified
U.S. Army experimental program...

called Kelvin Genetics.

They gave him the resources
to do whatever work he wanted...

which was primarily in an area
called Fringe Science.

When you say Fringe Science,
you mean pseudoscience.

I suppose. Things like mind control,
teleportation...

astral projection, invisibility,
genetic mutation, reanimation...

Excuse me for a sec.

Reanimation? Really?

So you're telling me what?

My father was Dr. Frankenstein?

You know what?
Why don't you go on ahead.

Dr. Bishop. Special day.
You have a visitor.

Hello.

I knew someone would come
eventually.

Dr. Bishop.

Dr. Bishop?

And you said this was...
This was... When did this happen?

The incident on the plane
happened four days ago.

- Agent Scott was injured the next day.
- The dermis already indurated?

- Translucent? Muscular tissue visible?
- On Scott?

You mean, can you see
through his skin? Yes.

Oh, that's not good.

To see through the skin, it's, uh...
It's tricky.

- It's advanced like that...
- What's happening to him?

Can it be reversed?

What is it?

They...

They have this horrible pudding here.

Butterscotch pudding on Mondays.
It's dreadful.

It's Thursday.

Oh?

Oh, ha, ha. That's fantastic news.

It can be reversed.

Oh, what happened to your colleague.

Years ago I worked with lab animals...

and some of them were afflicted,
but were saved.

So do you remember what to do?

This place,
their choice of therapies has...

Dr. Bishop?

You came here today with my son.

I'm not allowed visitors, you see,
except immediate family...

and unless the order's been lifted...

then it's a simple if-then formula.

If you are here, then so is he.

I would so much...

so very much like to see him.

So much.

He asked for you.

Thanks, sweetheart.
I really appreciate that.

Hey, I didn't tell him you were here.

And call me sweetheart one more time.
I'd really like that.

Hello, Walter.

I thought you'd be fatter.

You thought I would be fatter?

Excellent. First words. Perfect.

No, as a boy, you were rounder.

I was until the summer
before high school.

- Not that I'd expect you to remember.
- May I see?

What are you doing?
Take your hands off.

Pupils are good.

They're good. Thank goodness.

How advanced
is your colleague's condition?

Which is something that I...

I'm unable to deduce
without a firsthand examination.

I must see Mr. Scott myself...

which I am unable to do...

while under present law...

unless signed out
by a legal guardian...

who must be, once again, a relative.

What are you asking me to...?

- No. Guardian? No. Forget it.
- He'll do it.

- No, I will not do it.
- One phone call. That's all it takes.

Do you want me to make it?
Because I've got my phone in my pocket.

Now it's out of my pocket.

You wanted my father,
now you've got my father...

which falls under the category of,
"Be careful what you wish for."

Sweetheart.

Every effort is being made...

to understand
what happened on Flight 627.

Dr. Bishop, I was curious.

Did anyone else ever have access
to your work?

Well, uh, the assistants
had bits and pieces.

God, I suppose.

I suppose the only one that really knew
what I was doing was Belly.

- Who?
- Belly. William Bell.

- He and I shared the lab.
- William Bell?

You shared your lab with the founder
of Massive Dynamic?

I'm sorry. I don't know what that is,
Massive Dynamic.

Nothing, really. Just a tiny
little company. That's perfect.

One becomes one of
the wealthiest men on the planet.

The other guy
becomes an institutionalized psychopath.

- Oh!
- What? What happened?

I just pissed myself.

- Excellent.
- Just a squirt.

I just got your message.

- How is John?
- Worse.

CDC says the flight was caused
by a synthetic compound...

which is like saying rain is caused
by a wet compound.

They've run tests on John,
but haven't come back with anything.

- What about Bishop?
- Left to right? Insane.

And irritating and also my only hope.

Listen. I need to question William Bell.

- Could you set that up for me?
- William Bell?

- Massive Dynamic William Bell?
- He and Bishop used to share a lab.

You're kidding.

Dr. Bishop?

Is there ginger ale? Any ginger ale?

I haven't had some in a long time.

I miss it.

Can we please get some ginger ale
for the doctor, Agent Farnsworth?

Sure.

Whoa! Stop. Right now. Stop.

Does this not concern you?

Let him go.

Petri dish.

Quick. Please.

Good.

I need to take this to my lab
right away.

- Your what?
- Kresge Building basement, Harvard.

We should leave. I have my sample.

Your lab was shut down after you left.

I'm sorry?

Wake up. It's gone.

No.

No, no, no.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

Walter, there is no lab.

- It's a perfect...
- No.

Damn you. Damn you.

We need to get him back immediately.

- Liaison, when did you get back?
- I need your help.

I want you to know I've successfully
had Dr. Walter Bishop released...

from St. Claire's, and he requires
the use of his old laboratory.

- I'm sorry, what?
- Kresge Building, Harvard. Basement.

The university's been using it for storage
for the last 17 years.

It would be nice to think
that your tenacity in this case...

is a by-product of a remarkable
and robust professionalism.

But I can't help but wonder...

if there wasn't something going on
between you and Agent Scott.

Get the lab for Bishop.

So much. So much happened here.

And so much is about to.

Dr. Bishop, I've ordered
a standard forensics work package.

- Is there anything else you need?
- Um...

Optical coherence tomograph
for flesh study.

Two thousand pounds of silicon.

At least five anonymous blood samples
from volunteer donors.

A micro-organism detector,
NASA-grade, of course.

- There's still NASA, yes?
- Yes.

She's still here!
Oh, this tank was the best.

And... And a two-year-old Bos Taurus.

- A what?
- A cow.

- He wants a cow.
- Pure-bred, not cross-bred.

This is important.
Mature weight, 850 pounds.

Internal fat average, 2.37.

Is he joking?

Genetically, humans and cows are
separated by only a couple lines of DNA.

- It's an ethical test subject.
- Where'd you learn that?

- MIT?
- No, actually.

I picked that up reading books.

You should try it some time. It's fun.

- Get him the cow.
- Fantastic, thank you.

The only thing better than a cow
is a human.

Unless you need milk.
Then you really need a cow.

Coffee?

Thanks.

Tell me. What else did that file say?

About yours truly.
How bad was it?

I'm not at liberty to discuss it.

You go ahead and liberate yourself...

because I'm here now, so I kind of feel
like I deserve the truth, don't you?

There was no file.

- I needed you back here.
- So, what? You were bluffing?

- I was desperate.
- I'm usually good at reading people.

- That's what I do.
- I could see you were in trouble.

- Anyone could see that.
- So I could have stayed.

Ha, ha.

I could've stayed in Iraq.

You know, a car bomb went off
this morning in Kirkuk.

- You might just owe me a thank you.
- Ha.

Yeah, well. I owe a lot.

Yeah, I figured.

- Mafia?
- Ha-ha-ha.

A guy named Big Eddie.

You owe money to a guy
nicknamed Big Eddie?

No, I owe money to a guy named
Big Eddie. He had it legally changed.

And the thing is, I'm not even
a gambler. I mean, I never was, it just...

- A couple years ago I went a bit crazy.
- I thought you were a genius.

- You must've had a system.
- Of course there was a system.

The house was cheating,
but try telling them that.

In '72, during Vietnam...

the DOD's biochem division
had us working on a leprotic contagion...

for possible use
against the Vietcong.

It's possible that whatever
affected that plane...

may have been derived
from that work.

What about John?

What's infecting him
is merely a chemical reaction...

to the raw laboratory ingredients,
not the finished contagion.

- We can synthesize a counter-agent.
- So you can help...

Don't do that.
Don't give her false hope.

There's no false, it's not false.
It's real.

I could help, yes,
if I had a precise inventory...

of what was in that storage facility
when it detonated...

We don't have it.
It all went up. Everything.

The suspect,
who might have answers, got away.

And John was the only one
who saw his face.

So how long does he have left?

Current rate of crystallization,
cellular degradation...

- How long?
- Twenty-four hours.

His brain will no longer
be able to oxygenate itself.

I'm so sorry...

that I can't offer you
a less dangerous solution.

- What do you mean?
- Didn't I mention it?

Whatever you think you said,
you didn't say.

The synaptic transfer system,
the shared dream state.

What do you mean,
shared dream state?

The human brain generates
a quantifiable electric field.

I posited in 1976 that it is possible...

to synchronize the fields
of two distinct minds...

to allow the sharing of information
across the unconscious state.

Like a string between two tin cans.

And you know what's great about that
is that it's completely insane.

You're saying I can talk to John
in a coma...

and he can tell me
what the suspect looks like?

- It's not an exact science.
- It's not even science.

- Have you done this before?
- I have used this technique...

to extract information
from a corpse, once.

You can do that if they haven't
been dead for six hours.

Right, because after six hours,
they're really dead.

You could access his memories.
Assuming there's no brain damage.

Of course, you'd have to have
an electromagnetic probe...

placed in the base of your skull...

whilst immersed without clothing
in the old tank.

And you'd be heavily drugged.

- What sort of drugs?
- A mix of...

Ketamine, Neurontin,
Lysergic Acid Diethylamide.

That last one is LSD
by the way. Acid?

It'd take a few hours.
I'd need your help to synthesize it.

- If it's not too much trouble.
- Sure, sounds fun.

The man who was released
from the mental institution...

wants to give you an overdose,
stick a rod in your head...

and put you naked
into a rusty tank of water.

No, I don't want to.

No, I'd rather not.
I'm just saying I can.

Okay, Olivia. Heh.

Excuse me. You're obviously
under severe duress.

You haven't slept since Iraq,
the man you care about might die.

- But I'm telling you, that will kill you.
- You don't understand the procedure.

John would do it for me.

Set it up. I'll get DHS authorization
to bring John here.

This is unbelievable. This is insane.

He is insane.
And you're insane for following him.

Excellent. Let's make some LSD.

Put him over here.

Salt'll make you float.

Charlie, did you get me in
to see William Bell?

Massive Dynamic isn't exactly
being forthcoming or courteous.

And apparently William Bell
is out of the country.

What's this?

A sweet little memo
from their general counsel.

- Bell doesn't wanna talk?
- Or he's the head...

of a 50-billion-dollar corporation.
- Screw this.

I wanna drive a tank through Bell's
office. Find out what he knows.

I know you do, but I'm here
to tell you the bad news.

It's gonna be 48 hours
till we get a court order.

You should probably
strip to your underwear.

Hello.

What the hell was that?

Charlie, we don't have 48 hours.
I need you to get to Bell.

If Walter fails, Bell could be
the only one to save us.

What...? Livvy, what's happening here?

You've cleared all this with Broyles?

- Somewhat.
- "Somewhat" doesn't sound good.

- Is that a cow?
- Yeah, that's Gene.

Listen, Charlie, I need you to promise me
you'll do whatever you can.

Of course, you know that.

Hey, be careful.

My God.

Now, where was I?

Could you tilt your
head forward please.

I still think that this
is deeply irresponsible...

and believe me, I would know.

This is an anesthetic.

I feel normal. Working.

Yeah, because bootlegging smack in the
basement is just the picture of normalcy.

I got you. I got you.

I hope your guy is worth it.

And this...

will rip open your consciousness.

Listen. In case you don't come back...

I just wanted to say,
before we do this...

how much I appreciate
what you've done.

There are so many things you lose
in a place like that.

You lose being trusted.

It's strange how important that is,
once it's gone.

If you want to watch,
you can come closer.

- Do you work here?
- Yeah, I'm Astrid Farnsworth.

- Assistant to Agent Dunham.
- Who?

Oh, yes. I'm Walter...

- Bishop. Walter Bishop.
- Yes, thank you.

Don't mention it.

These are her brain rhythms.

More important than most people know
regarding cerebral regional interaction.

Critical.

And, uh... And these are his.

As the drugs take effect...

the probes will synchronize
the electrical signals from both.

That's what the brain is,
an electrical router.

Should be able to be interpreted
by the other.

Ha, ha. Yeah.

Simple, really, like making taffy.

And when the rhythms are in sync,
they should be in the same place...

so to speak.

So, what do we do now?

Now we wait.

What was that?

Hello?

I think I'm here. I'm here.

John?

That's my uncle's kayak.

John?

Is that you?

Olivia.

John.

- What's happening?
- It's fine.

- She's all right?
- She's fine.

- You're sure?
- Look.

I was just thinking about you.

What was that?

Nothing.

John.

You were hurt.

I don't remember.

Think.

The storage units.

I feel cold.

I need you to remember.

Remember what?

What you saw.

I need you to show me his face.

Why?

So I can save you.

Please try.

Try and remember.

Yes, this is right.

This is right.

We got a runner in the back.

We need him alive.

I can't see his face.

I saw him. I saw John get hurt.
I was there.

I was there. I saw... I saw him.

What do you mean,
you saw him? Where?

I told you not to ask me that.

This is him. This is the suspect.

- He looks like this.
- Send me the image.

- I'll put it through the database.
- Have you slept? You look like crap.

No primary matches
for criminal record.

Crosscheck state driver's license files.
Send this image to local hospitals.

Agent Dunham, take a look at this.

Oh, my God, this is him.

- He was a passenger on Flight 627.
- I don't understand.

He couldn't have been
at the storage place.

- Charlie, I saw him there.
- Hold on, guys.

Morgan Steig
was passenger number 108.

Richard Steig.

- You're telling me he has a twin?
- Yeah. No address.

Only a history of employment.

- What?
- Richard Steig's last employer.

I was hoping to speak with William Bell.

I'm Nina Sharp, executive director.

I only have a few minutes.

Our primary suspect
is a former employee of yours...

Richard Steig, who may have used
research from your company...

to develop
a self-eradicating airborne toxin.

We don't know why or for whom...

but it appears he was willing
to sacrifice his own brother.

Whatever killed those people
got on board through his insulin pen.

So do you wanna talk to me?

Danielle...

please assemble everything we have
on Richard Steig for Agent Dunham here.

I remember Richard Steig.

He worked
in our weapons-systems research lab.

He was caught three months ago trying
to leave with classified information.

He was terminated. We referred
his name to the justice department.

We have done our due diligence,
Agent Dunham...

and if you choose
to drag our company...

and Dr. Bell's name
into this matter...

you will be hearing
from our attorneys.

- How long have you worked for Dr. Bell?
- Sixteen years.

I owe Massive Dynamic my life,
and that is not an exaggeration.

I was a runner most of my life.

In the '97 Boston Marathon,
I felt strangely tired.

One day at the office,
Dr. Bell noticed my discomfort...

and insisted I go for a CAT scan.

Cancer.

It spread so severely...

I had to have my arm amputated
that week.

That first scanner that found my cancer
was built by this company.

The robotic assist tools
used in my surgery...

the drugs I took afterwards...

were developed and manufactured
by Massive Dynamic...

and my replacement limb
was designed by Bell himself.

Everything we have on Richard Steig.

Do you believe that Steig
may be part of The Pattern?

I'm sorry, part of the...

Part of the pattern?

Oh, I assumed you had clearance.

Well, I'm cleared to know whatever
you're cleared to know.

Apparently not.

Suffice to say that we've reached
a point where science and technology...

have advanced
at such an exponential rate for so long...

it may be way beyond our ability
to regulate and control them.

You should know
what you're getting into, Agent Dunham.

I would say this to my own daughter:

Be careful...

and good luck.

- And this is a show for children?
- Yeah, it's huge.

Surprisingly profound
for a narrative about a sponge.

Crazy house.

I just landed at Logan.
I'm on my way.

I think we located our suspect.

Hold on a second. You found the guy?
The guy from your dream?

I'm picking you up. I need your father
to get information he needs...

so he can make the cure.
I need you in case your father's...

Say no more. Meet you out front.

Clear!

- Clear!
- Clear!

In the back!

I'd like to check your blood pressure.

Why don't you check your own
blood pressure? Mine's fine, thanks.

Your skin tone suggests you might be
suffering from arterial hypertension.

Don't tell me
what I'm suffering from.

And there are no visible signs
of hypertension.

When this is over,
please don't send me back.

- I don't want to go back.
- Look, Walter...

This experience, you...

You woke me up again, and, heh.

- You can't put me back to sleep.
- It was hardly my idea, any of it.

Whatever punishment
you think I deserve...

I swear,
I have already endured it...

seventeen years.

Please...

son.

Hey!

- Hey!
- What?

Hey! He's in the alley!

- Can I get out of the car?
- Stay right there, Walter.

We've got some questions for you.

U.S. Code 1111: Murder of 147 passengers.

U.S. Code 2332A:
Use of weapons of mass destruction.

U.S. Code 2332B: An act of terrorism
transcending national borders.

U.S. Code 1113:
Attempted murder of a federal agent.

You want immunity?

I want a detailed account
of all the synthetic chemicals...

you had in that storage facility.

Write them down...

and then we can talk
about an agreement.

I have nothing to say.

Walter, stay here.

Where are you...?

The compound affecting Agent Scott,
it's water-soluble, right?

We might not know what it is,
but we know what it does...

so if I wanted to...

I could extract the contaminated fluids
from his body.

That would allow me to slip it to you
whenever I wanted to.

In your food...

cup of coffee...

the toilet.

Nobody would ever know
how it happened.

The only problem is,
the woman who was just in here...

that's her friend who's dying...

so I just don't have
that kind of time.

No.

- Tell me the chemicals now.
- Hey, stop. You can't.

- You can't do that.
- No, no. You can't do that.

I want the names of the chemicals.
I'm gonna count to one.

- One.
- Aah!

The active toxin
was a magnesium-based ethylene glycol.

- I understand. You're not listening.
- An ethylene glycol...

with an organophosphate trigger.
- Walter, stop.

His blood won't be able to absorb it
before side effects kill him.

So you're saying what? We synthesize
a calcium gluconate in a thiamine base?

- Yes, exactly.
- We can't. We need more of his blood.

- We have none.
- Not true. Agents are required...

to set up a backup blood supply
in case we're wounded.

- Autologous transfusion. Brilliant.
- Transfusion.

We create the antidote
and dissolve it into Scott's stored blood.

If we transfuse him intravenously,
his body won't be overwhelmed.

A-plus, boy. Well done. Let's begin.

- So I got the lab.
- Heh.

Yeah, I know you did.

Thanks.

How's it going downstairs?

Uh...

Bishop says it'll be a while,
but that it's looking auspicious.

That was his word.

- What?
- You've done some solid work here:

Locating Bishop...

getting him out, finding a way
to get him to work with you.

- We're impressed.
- Who's "we"?

What happened on that plane might be
part of something more dangerous...

than just simple terrorism.
- "Simple" terrorism?

In the past nine months,
there have been three dozen incidents...

like the Hamburg flight.

John Thompson, normal kid,
went missing back in '98...

reappeared last month halfway
around the world. Hadn't aged a day.

In the past few months,
46 other children...

who went missing that same year
turn up. Same story.

Fisherman off the coast of Sri Lanka
reports a low-flying plane...

emitting a high-pitched frequency
that blows out all their windows.

An hour later, same spot,
an 8.7 subsurface earthquake...

creates a tsunami
that kills 83,000 people.

- So why are you telling me...?
- This man:

Patient in Lisbon who woke up
after years in a coma, began writing.

Just numbers. They turn out to be exact,
real-time coordinates...

of our carrier battle groups
in the Pacific.

Intel that's classified
above top secret.

So how is that even possible?

Come work for me.
I'll get you the clearance...

- Oh, stop.
- There's more you need to hear.

- You must not have heard me.
- They're calling the events The Pattern

as if someone's experimenting,
only the world is their lab.

- You've seen. You know.
- I don't wanna know.

- I have a job.
- This is a more important job.

Anything, anybody you need,
you can have.

I like the job I've got,
and the man I do it with...

which you seem to have deduced
on your own.

Look around. You see all these people,
going about their lives...

no idea what's happening around
them, what they're in the middle of?

I just wanna go back to before.

Dunham...

I don't think you can.

He's up. He's awake.

Olivia, Olivia, he's awake.
He's conscious.

John?

John? Can you hear me, baby?

Baby?

I had a dream about you.

Change of clothes for Agent Scott.

His vitals are surprisingly strong.

- So, um, how long does he have to stay?
- Until the melanocytes in his skin...

have regenerated,
but that shouldn't be more than a week.

He owes you his life.

We owe each other.

What room is Steig in?

I told you everything I know, didn't I?

I gave you the names of all
the synthetics I used in the compound.

Don't worry,
our immunity agreement holds.

But there's still more to talk about,
like why you killed your brother...

and who you're selling your work to.
- Who says I was selling it?

I was threatened by a guy
from your office.

You think I'm lying?

I swear to God.

I can prove it.

- I recorded the conversation.
- Where's the recording?

I buried it.

Who is this?

We had an exchange agreement.

Mm. There have been other bidders.

Today, the airplane,
was a demonstration.

You've drawn unwarranted attention...

something we can't afford
to be connected with.

You're not selling to anyone else.
You do that, we will come after you.

- I will come after you.
- You're threatening me?

After seeing what I'm willing to do
to my own brother?

Let me assure you,
we'd be happy to treat you as family too.

Let me assure you, we'd be happy
to treat you as family too.

Special Agent Scott.

Yes, sir. Go right ahead.

Charlie, I need two agents
posted outside Agent Scott's room now.

- Check on Steig.
- I'm on it.

I'm five minutes away.

We need this place locked down.

This is Dunham. Agent ID 52776...

in pursuit of blue SUV
heading south on Fenway.

Need immediate assist.

Ask yourself...

why.

Why Broyles sent you...

to the storage facility.

Why you?

I don't understand.

Who are you working for?

John, tell me.

Tell me more, John.

I knew him just as long as you did.

I'm sorry.

Job isn't what it was 10 years ago.

We're supposed to protect a world...

where one breath of the wrong air
can incinerate you from the inside out.

I mean, how do we protect people...

when corporations have
higher security clearances than we do...

when we're not fully briefed on half
the things that we're investigating?

You know, when the truth...

The truth is...

we're obsolete.

Take me back to the lab.

Can I talk to you, please?

Yeah. I'll be back in a second.

I, uh... I'm sure you're anxious
to get as far away from here as possible.

To Iraq or Afghanistan
or countless other out-of-reach places...

but, uh, I'm here to tell you
your father needs to stay.

Which means you need to, too.

Are you okay?

Now, I know that you have
countless reasons...

as to why
this is a nonstarter for you...

but, uh, your father is a good man.
He's not the monster you think he is.

You're good with him,
despite what you think.

And you're the only one
who speaks Walter.

We take him back to St. Claire's,
and it's all over.

- Where's John?
- I can talk to the agency...

and get them
to clear your debts.

I can take care of my own debts.
But what just happened?

Where is John?

I'm not gonna use false threats
with you anymore. I don't need to.

The threats are real.

After you left, my father sat down
and started talking...

and he was remarkably lucid.

He told me about the work
he and William Bell had done.

And that incident...

What happened on the plane
is just the beginning.

Which makes every part of me feel like
I gotta get the hell out of Boston.

Are we leaving?

Are we leaving?

- How long has he been dead?
- Five hours.

Question him.