My name is Walter O'Brien.
I have the fourth highest IQ ever recorded: 197.
Einstein's was 160.
When I was 11, the FBI arrested me for hacking NASA
to get their blueprints for my bedroom wall.
Now I run a team of geniuses,
tackling worldwide threats only we can solve.
Toby's our behaviorist.
Sylvester's a human calculator.
Happy, a mechanical prodigy.
Agent Cabe Gallo's our government handler.
And Paige? Well, Paige isn't like us.
She's normal and translates the world for us
while we help her understand her genius son.
Together, we are Scorpion.
Orange, purple, tan, pink, blue, blue, green.
870!
Don't hit it so hard, you'll mess up my wiring.
I am going to slap it like it owes me money.
Speaking of which... 890.
I can do it with my eyes closed.
Green, purple, purple, pink.
I don't like you when you're cocky.
Hey! Picked up some healthier fare for the fridge.
You know, tuna, yogurt...
brain foods...
So glad I try.
Ka-ching!
Come on.
Should I ask?
I rigged the game
so it'll generate a thousand sequence color pattern.
And you're betting on whether Sylvester's memorized it.
That's sane.
Where's Walter?
Hey!
Finally got that Reseda client to pay for their system upgrade.
I sent them a lawyer letter.
We don't have a lawyer.
They don't know that.
What's this?
Well, if I can map and download
this fellow's memory of the maze pattern,
- then I can do the same for a human. - Losing me.
I can transfer someone's thoughts, consciousness,
their very being forever.
And, unfortunately,
I happen to be working with a stupid mouse. Hey!
Are you doing this for your sister?
Yeah.
And for anybody else whose body betrays them.
What's his name?
Why would I name a mouse?
'Cause it's fun.
The phone's ringing!
We're gambling!
This mouse is difficult and stubborn.
I'll call him Cabe Junior.
That's good.
Remind me why no digital voice mail.
'Cause you can't hack analog.
Um, hi, this message is for Paige Dineen.
This is Drew Baker.
I know it's been a long time, Paige,
I got your info from the diner.
- I was hoping that we could talk. - No... no, no, no.
- I'd really like to see you guys. - No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
- Really would. - No. No. No.
- I'm at the same cell number. - No. No, no.
- Okay, bye. - No, no, no, no. No. No.
The hell was that all about?
Nothing. An acquaintance.
You don't sprint down stairs for an acquaintance.
- Who's Drew? - Old friend.
Bumped from acquaintance to old friend in three seconds.
Interesting.
Look, it's really not important.
You just put your hand on your stomach.
A subconscious protection marker where you once carried a child.
- Is Drew Ralph's father? - I didn't know Ralph had a father.
- How exactly do you think babies are made? - You know what I mean.
Not that it's any of your business,
but Ralph's dad is a minor league baseball player...
Great, a jock!
We bounced around a lot, team to team,
and we agreed Ralph should have some stability.
We settled in L.A. and Drew was gonna come out after his season.
He got a job pitching in Mexico, then Tampa,
then you can fill in the rest.
- How long has it been since he's seen Ralph? - Seven years.
Oh, that's great.
Father of the year...
uh, excuse me, seven years.
Drew's a difficult part of my life
that wasn't easy to put behind me.
And I'm certainly not dusting it off with you guys,
So there'll be no further discussion on this issue.
Paige, you want to know if he's a good guy?
Watch him eat fruit.
If he digs into the flesh with his fingernails...
a primordial sign of aggression.
But if he peels it in one long curl, that is a planner.
He's right; I'm very gentle with plums.
- Guys, we are not giving him fruit. - Thank you.
I can just hack his credit info, see what he's been up to,
- if he's any risk to Ralph. - Absolutely not.
This isn't communal child rearing.
I'll decide if I call Drew back.
No one else.
What's going on?
Ralph's father's back in town.
Oh, I see.
Is that something you want
- to discuss with everyone? - No.
Then it's settled.
Personal business stays personal.
Besides, we got some real business to attend to.
Three cons just escaped from Hamilton Federal Penitentiary.
High-tech prison.
Inmates had morning exercise;
when they called line-up, they were gone.
No tunnels, no compromised fences, gone.
They want you to determine
how they beat their state-of-the-art security.
You want us to go inside of a prison?
Are you serious?
Like a Peek Frean.
The hell's a Peek Frean?
It's a cookie.
Kind your grandma used to give out?
They had that slogan...
“Peek Freans are a very serious cookie.”
How young are you guys?
How old are you?
Let's get in the car.
You know, eight out of ten inmates had dads
that were in and out of the picture?
Just saying. Shut it, Doc.
- I may be overstepping my bounds... - You are.
But a quick run of potentialities yields few,
if any, positive outcomes from that phone call.
An absent father returning out of the blue
is fraught with peril.
I know none of you have any idea how inappropriate this all is,
but it's off the charts.
You've been quiet.
No advice on how to run my life?
I don't know anything about dads.
Welcome to prison.
Don't worry, son.
You just tell me how you hacked into NASA,
and I promise everything will be okay.
Should Happy and Paige be here?
They're talking to you.
Sergey Antonovich and Roman Volkovsky's cell.
Russian outfit.
Both doing a dime for identity theft.
Well, clearly scumbags,
but they don't seem to have the technical acumen
to break out of this place.
This one does.
Here, let me look.
Percy Tate.
You know the guy?
Everybody does; he's a “hacktivist.”
Borderline genius, IQ... 150.
The sweet spot... it's high enough to be mentally gifted
and low enough to not be like us.
A few years ago, he didn't like
the voter fraud tactics of a couple congressional candidates.
So he embedded a virus into the electoral system.
At the end of the election, he reset all the votes down to zero
with a message... “Do it again; don't cheat this time.”
What the hell is the Robin Hood of nerds
doing with Russian outfit guys?
No idea.
Was a model prisoner till he disappeared without a clue.
Now, our gates are wired to a central system.
We show no breach.
Security film's clean.
Are all your gates under surveillance?
All but...
but one.
This is it.
It used to lead to the loading dock,
but not since an upgrade 20 years ago.
It ends five feet in.
I don't think they went through this gate.
I think they just used it to escape.
Happy?
Right here.
It's been spackled.
Matched the color with toothpaste.
I'm so turned on.
This wire runs to the gate lock.
And this is a wireless transmitter
that's been spliced into it.
The escaped cons worked maintenance duty?
Moved about freely?
Cons with privileges can move about
during specific periods during the day.
Including work detail and morning PT, when they broke out.
You want to know how they did it?
When the prisoners returned their supplies
to the maintenance closet,
they knew that no cameras would be watching a defunct gate.
So they only needed a minute to get through that wall.
They attach a transmitter to catch a signal
to open the gate, which is then sent to a cell phone.
A transmitter is small.
But a cell phone?
Nothing that big could get in or out of my prison.
Except convicts.
- What? - What?
Hey, has this door been opened anytime over the last few days?
Antonovich dropped a can of cleanser through the bars,
and we opened it to let him get it.
You know, the gates would only need
to be opened once to get the access signal.
If the other gates are under surveillance, they'd be seen.
Not if their phone was programmed with an EMP device.
Localized burst would disable a camera for three seconds.
That's enough time to get through any prison gate
and get out of camera range.
I think I know how they got the phone in.
I'd like to go outside now, please.
This is the field out here.
Drew didn't get a return call, so now he's e-mailing.
Focus.
Warden, when was the last time the cons had extended yard time?
Three days ago, cell-block baseball.
One of the escapees played right field.
- How do you know that? - My dad made me play right field.
The worst player's always put there because
the ball is usually hit to the center or to the left.
If a convict was receiving contraband out here,
like a cell phone, he'd definitely want to play right field,
because nobody pays attention to the right fielder.
So, they smuggled in contraband during a game.
- Surely, you can't be serious. - Serious as a Peek Frean.
And don't call me Shirley.
Bam! That's how you do it, Cabe.
It's easier than you realize, Warden.
See, the Russians are organized crime, they have outside help.
So, while everyone else is watching the game,
a bird flies 30 feet above the yard.
Except, it's not a bird, it's an MAV, a micro air vehicle.
Now, black market drones go for low five figures.
And the drone drops the phone
right into the right fielder's glove.
These guys like baseball, just like Drew.
Did he ever play in a penal league?
Here you are.
Surveillance of Hamilton Penitentiary ball game
three days ago.
How did you get that?
Ah, it's not that hard.
Look! Right there.
There's the drone.
Maybe that's just a bird.
Well, that bird is taking one heck of a dookie.
I'll be damned.
That's a phone.
Whoever made that drop wasn't far outside these walls.
Soon as they were done,
I bet they stopped flying that bird and just took off.
Assuming a two-pound drone with a lithium battery,
12-inch wingspan, six-knot winds,
it would have glided to a stop
roughly 1.37 miles southeast of here.
Take Sylvester, find that drone.
Look, I don't care about the location of the drone,
I care about the location of my convicts.
Uh-huh, uh-huh.
Here's a satellite image of one of the cons
running by the tree line.
I really don't want you hacking into U.S. satellites
without permission.
I'm not; these are China's.
Hold on.
Look at how that other guy is grabbing Percy.
- How much time did he have left? - Ten months.
Why would he want to break out now with short time left?
Yeah, maybe he didn't want to break out.
He's got a funny way of showing it.
What if they forced him to?
They needed him to escape.
The odds are... they need him for something else.
Otherwise, you would have already found his corpse by now.
Warden, the chances are... you're dealing
with two jailbreaks, one kidnapping.
Let me see this.
You know, Percy Tate's highly intelligent
and was vulnerable here.
He was quite possibly taken advantage of.
Ralph's also vulnerable, like most child geniuses.
I can see you're getting to something.
I was about Ralph's age
when Cabe suddenly appeared in my life.
My dad was a good man, but he never really understood me.
So Cabe filled a void.
But when things got complicated between us,
it was hard to bounce back.
I get it.
But I can handle it. Okay?
This would be a tough situation if Ralph were a regular kid.
We could look into the guy.
Ah, she told me not to.
That's right.
She told you not to.
Whoa, whoa, careful.
Don't hurt Birdroni.
You named it?
I didn't have any pets growing up.
Anything?
The bird wasn't on recon mode, so there's no film to help us.
But I did study the code
that Percy used to rig the election.
It was able to change vote tallies
in the one-tenth of a second
it took to digitally transfer the data
from the various districts to the election commissioner.
He expertly exploited a miniscule point of failure.
He's quite bright.
Make sure you get him to sign your yearbook
when we arrest him.
You see? That is the problem.
Percy Tate's a brilliant mind, and you mock him.
He's a criminal, who clearly masterminded this breakout.
He's mentally enabled, and I think he may have been
taken advantage of because of it.
I'm amazed that geniuses can even get duped.
Easily.
We become so focused, we lose peripheral vision,
and it's on the outskirts where ulterior motives lie.
Geniuses state facts, so we assume others state facts, too.
If you become ostracized
from an early age for being different,
or if someone targets you because they have something to gain,
you don't see their motives until it's too late.
After a while, it starts to affect your core self.
You trust no one.
- Grow up to be distant... - Like Walter.
Or scared of your own shadow...
Like me.
Angry...
Present.
Or a condescending jerk.
- Like Toby. - Toby.
Where the hell's the doc anyway?
I have him looking into something.
Not all smart people are saints, O'Brien.
Stop letting that genius-sized chip on your shoulder
cloud your judgment.
Gallo.
Really?
Well, “gentleman genius” Percy Tate and his pals
just carjacked a ride and sent two guys to the hospital.
Let's move.
♪ Another round ♪
♪ She sells them whiskey and wine ♪
♪ The sailors say, Brandy ♪
♪ You're a fine girl ♪
♪ What a good wife you would be... ♪
Sprinkles!
Sprinkles... Hey.
Excuse me, have you seen my dog?
No, sorry, I haven't.
He's a teacup Chihuahua. You could easily miss him.
That's probably why I didn't see him.
He just took off,
and I know a coyote is gonna swallow him whole.
- I'm sick over this. - Well, I'm sure he'll turn up.
Could you drive me around the neighborhood
to look for Sprinkles?
No, sorry.
- I got someplace to be. - Oh... Excuse me.
Condescending jerk.
There's the security footage of the carjacking.
Percy's car was found in the woods a mile from here...
caught a screw in a tire.
Odds are it's the getaway ride,
stashed in the woods near the prison.
Well, that's why they did this carjacking.
They needed a new vehicle.
Civilian clothes, weapons...
I bet that duffel bag has food, water, money in it.
And a laptop.
For what other reason would Percy still be alive
other than they have some need for his coding skills?
They're gonna have him working
at whatever it is their larger plan is
as soon as they're settled.
If there's a bigger plan at play here, what is it?
Hold on.
Rewind that.
Look at Percy's hands.
He's messing with something behind his back.
He took this number five from the price sign
and stuck it next to the “X.”
And he pushed it all the way to the right
from the middle of the rack.
Why?
Okay, the “X” is Roman for ten, plus five is 15.
He wasn't pushing it right, he was pushing it east.
I-.
I-15 East!
You're reaching.
No, no, no. He knew the cops
would investigate this crime scene.
He had seconds to leave a message... he did.
Or he just bumped into the display.
Let's just assume the guy with the 197 IQ is right.
We could use AMBER Alerts on the 15
to send a coded message so he can contact us.
This guy is borderline genius.
We make it too hard, he won't get it.
We make it too easy, we're gonna get responses
from every math geek out for a ride.
We need a sweet spot.
Well, you guys do whatever it is you gotta do,
but I'm gonna need actionable intelligence
that Percy Tate is trying to contact you
before I send in personnel.
That's protocol, and I'm following it.
I had to follow protocol.
We had to hold him until dermination he wasn't a threat.
But three days?
Well, it wasn't ideal.
But now we know he's just a curious boy, not a bad one.
Truth is, the more we got to know each other,
I realized he's pretty amazing.
So amazing, I think he earned something.
Go ahead.
Isn't that one of the damn thin
that started all this trouble?
Well, I think he'll be more careful moving forward.
Right, kiddo?
Yes, sir.
On one condition:
You use that to stay in touch with me.
I'd hate to think
that this would the last time I'd see someone like you.
Anything?
Walter. Any-Anything?
Um, made the alerts look like they're malfunctioning,
but no response yet.
There's a message in those I-15 signs?
There's a pattern mimicking Pascal's triangle.
Each number is the sum of the two numbers above,
except for the edges, which are all ones.
If you shade in all the odd numbers,
what you're left with is an address
for an online bulletin board that is secure,
which he can reach us at for help.
After passing a few signs,
a coder like Percy should pick up on it.
How could he miss it?
I got general background information on Mr. Drew Baker.
Great. What'd you find?
Lots.
From a personality standpoint,
he displayed just moderate empathy
for someone who just lost a dog.
And when I made physical contact with him,
he defaulted to a combative stance
instead of one of defense.
He might have a short temper.
Where'd you touch him?
His lips. Very softly.
I touched his arm, potato-head.
And not for nothing, but he was a little judgmental
when I told him I had a teacup Chihuahua.
He's a macho putz.
Even worse, background check shows
he plead guilty to a battery charge
12 years ago, before he knew Paige.
I couldn't find the details online, but I'm still looking.
Battery?
And he wants to see Ralph?
This guy, he seemed impulsive.
I wouldn't put it past him coming here.
I'm always right.
Hey.
- Can I help you? - Hi... yeah.
I'm looking for Paige.
Drew?
Walter, I got it.
Why don't you come over here?
Thanks.
Makes me nervous.
What the hell are you doing here?
I'm sorry. It's inappropriate,
but I never heard back from you
and I'm only in town a couple of days...
You wanted to see the child you abandoned?
I don't blame you for hating me.
Has nothing to do with me.
It has to do with my son.
Our son.
My son.
Fair enough.
Look, I know the damage that I caused
because I just wanted to run around,
play ball like a child, act like a child...
But baseball is going away.
I'm a 31-year-old washed-up reliever.
Only good thing I did in my life...
I deserted.
I just...
I want to see
that little baby that I used to hold.
Well, he is not little anymore.
And he is special in more ways than you could imagine.
I know you've had your hands full
with his developmental delays, I just...
Would your guest like some fruit?
- Excuse me? - He's fine.
He doesn't want fruit.
Come on, Babe Ruth, take a peach.
I'm good, thank you.
Okay.
You were always an amazing mother.
So whatever you decide to do...
that's the right move.
Just know my intentions are good,
and I just want Ralph to know
that I never stopped thinking about him.
It's Percy!
The kidnappers must have him on the computer!
You need to leave now.
What do you guys do here?
I need to take care of this,
so I will let you know what I decide.
Where is he?
“312 Rural Route 9.
Help.”
That's way out past Newhall.
Not much is out there.
Except Percy Tate.
Possibly.
But like you said, someone else could've
cracked the code and is messing with us.
Cabe wants “actionable intelligence.”
So we'll confirm he's there, then call Cabe.
How do we do that?
We can't just walk up and knock
on the door of their safe house.
We won't have to.
No, no. Birdroni? No.
Looks like the make and model of the car they stole.
I can't get a good look.
Oh...
You need to swoop down past the window on an angle.
You can't let 'em get a good look at that thing.
- I know. - Why are you flying it so low?
- I'm just getting the hang of it. - You're scared it's gonna crash
and hurt itself. It's not a real pet.
I know what I'm doing, Toby.
- Just let me do it. - No.
Happy built this for me.
Let... go... of...
Guys...
Stop it!
Oh, no!
I know I've said this before, but not good.
Stay down. They don't see us.
Well, this is gonna be a tough one to explain.
You like those encryptions I sent you last month?
Only the last few were difficult.
It took the navy's best cryptographers weeks
to do what you did in days.
I got something else I'd like you to do.
Trying to develop a new tracking software
to drop aid packages to refugees.
You think that's something you want to take a crack at?
You want my help?
For a real project?
I'll set it up.
You want to tell me how you got that shiner?
It's just bullies.
They don't like me 'cause I'm different.
They don't like you because they're scared
of what you can do.
What do you say I teach you a few things before I go?
Stand up, get on your feet.
Come on, up.
Get on your feet.
Keep your feet under you.
Get your hands up like this.
All right?
When they come at you, you're gonna block and counter.
All right? Rule number one.
Always go for the nose.
Hands up.
You ready? Here it comes.
There you go, perfect.
You got to be more careful, Walter.
You guys could've been killed.
All right, it didn't go according to plan,
but I was right about the kidnapping.
Now's not the time to poke the bear.
This Russian outfit has safe houses all over L.A.
and the Inland Empire.
- These guys are in the wind now. - Uh, Walter?
Seems when Birdroni went through the window,
he smashed Percy's computer,
but he caught an image of the laptop.
That is the code that Percy used to hack the election,
but he's changing it.
He's got an account-siphon router with a foreign prefix.
- Which means... - Which means
the Russians are making him modify his software,
and part of it has to do with sending money overseas,
but I can't tell where just from looking at this.
I'll have the Treasury Department trace this account number.
Percy should be traced as well.
After what happened here, the convicts must know
that he's the one that tipped their location.
He won't be able to contact us again.
They'll be watching him like a hawk.
So then we'll be watching them.
If we can capture the digital I.D.
from when Percy IM'd us, we should be able
to track it to his computer's IP address.
We can hack his webcam and watch him,
and maybe we can get a clue as to where he is
or what they're forcing him to do.
It's worth a shot.
Let's do it.
The sitter will be here soon,
but I wanted to talk to you first.
Okay?
It's a tangram.
It's shapes made out of shapes.
It's squares squared.
Wow.
That's very cool.
Sweetheart, what do you remember about your father?
He was tall.
He liked his toast burnt, and he left to see a movie.
What?
When we left for L.A., he said he'd catch up with us later.
He was just going to see a movie.
There were 12 theaters within 20 miles of our home.
48 screens, 227 showings.
Average run time... 112 minutes.
Maybe he just wanted to stay and see more movies.
I know you're gonna tell me
to “Shut it” again, but watching a kid learn
that Daddy's come back has got to be hurting you.
I'm not your patient, Doc.
But you are my friend.
Here.
While checking on Drew today, I also hacked Social Services,
pulled your records.
There is some photos in there of your dad, your mother.
My mother died during childbirth.
You have the wrong paperwork.
Your dad put photos in there in case you ever pulled your file.
I'm a decent hacker.
I could've gotten this myself if I wanted.
But he left me.
I am not chasing him.
I don't need him.
I love you, Ralph.
Hi, Ralph.
I'll see you when I get home.
- Hi. - Hi.
Drive carefully.
Okay.
- Bye! - Bye.
- Hey. - Hey.
Uh...
I don't want to butt in, but, um,
can I at least ask how he took it?
I couldn't tell him.
Not yet.
That's prudent.
Maybe the best course is to never tell him.
What happened to not butting in?
Hey, hey, hey.
People change a lot over seven years.
You don't even know Drew anymore.
He might not be this sweet baseball player
from St. Louis. He may be a danger.
How do you know he's from St. Louis?
Um...
You looked into him?
Yeah, we did, and be thankful that we did,
because he has a conviction for battery.
“We”?
- That's it. - Paige. Paige.
- No, hold on. - No, no.
Paige.
Hey!
Listen up.
I don't remember any of you in the delivery room with me,
or at the E.R. when Ralph had whooping cough,
or at a single PTA meeting, but somehow you all
have an equal vote.
Hell, no.
We were just worried.
We love Ralph.
We're only trying to properly analyze the situation.
This isn't an analytical issue.
It's emotional, which means you're ill-equipped.
You're too involved.
You are not Ralph's father,
and whether he meets his dad is my decision.
Holy smokes!
Guys, it's Percy!
It's Percy, guys.
I tracked his IM handle.
Turn the webcam light off so the Russians can't see it.
Start recording. Oh, God.
- What are they saying? - No sound.
Mic must have broken when Birdroni smashed Percy's laptop.
If we could hear them, we might get a clue where they are.
Oh, zoom in on that chip bag.
Look at it.
The polypropylene film
is vibrating from the sound waves of the convict shouting.
- I know what you're thinking. - I think we all do.
I'll prep the wave imaging software.
Where are all the chips?
- I replaced them with healthier choices. - Okay.
What the hell are you guys doing?
Do you hear the gravel in that voice?
You're our guy.
Wait a minute, I'm nobody's guy
until I know what the hell's going on.
Russians, from a historical genetic standpoint,
have more elastic soft tissue from folic acid deficiency.
A thousand years of vodka and cigarettes
will do that to you.
The result is long vocal cords and deep voices.
You're our closest vocal match.
You'll say the phonetic alphabet near that bag,
and these sensors will record
the ripple waves on the bag that correspond with each sound.
Now, we'll compare them to the waves.
Sylvester's software picks up from the film on Percy's bag.
And when the waves match, we'll know the sound
being said on film even though we can't hear it.
You got it?
Does it really matter?
No. Now start.
A.
B.
C.
What are you doing?
It's not ABC, it's phonetics.
Ah-A-eh, B-beh-buh, like that.
All right, take it easy.
It's my first time yelling at a bag of chips.
A.
Ah, eh.
Good job, Cabe.
It's working; keep going.
- B, buh... - A moment while Cabe finishes up?
Yeah.
C.
Uh...
Not that I need to explain anything to you,
but Drew was pitching in Toledo, and he nailed a batter
who had homered off him earlier.
He broke the guy's forearm.
Prosecutors brought charges to get some press,
and Drew took a plea.
That's the battery charge.
I'm a little overprotective of Ralph,
which I'm sure you understand.
Look, for what's it worth, I am gonna tell Drew no.
I think it's too confusing for Ralph right now.
Maybe when he's older.
It's your decision.
The software matched Cabe's waves to the waves
on Percy's bag.
"It couldn't pick up everything, but we got an “S,” an “O”"
"a “C,” a “K”"
“Sock.”
“Change.”
“Sock change.”
- What the hell does that mean? - Wait.
Percy's election code took advantage
of a tenth of a second gap in vote reporting,
and the cons are forcing him to change it to siphon money.
Could he be tweaking it to exploit the split-second gap
from when a stock price is set to when it's publicly posted?
Sock change, stock exchange.
Okay,
if this virus code gets uploaded to the stock exchange server...
They could trade stocks on price data before anybody has it.
They could make billions with no one ever knowing,
but why do all this now?
Quick Google on the exchange software
shows a major upgrade for next month.
Percy's code wouldn't work when that happened.
No one who's planning something like this
leaves witnesses behind.
Percy is dead the minute he finishes that code.
He needs to know we found him.
The Russkies ain't looking.
Flash that cam light.
There.
His eyes locked in on the light.
They're not looking, you jackass.
Tell us where you are.
Sweet baby Jane, is that Morse code?
You know Morse code?
How old are you?
Vandekarp...
Farm.
Building “S”!
Let's go.
Hold a beat.
Just got a text from the Treasury Department.
They ran a trace on that foreign account.
It's only in Percy's name.
- What does that mean? - It means that Percy was planning
on ripping off the Russians this whole time.
He's not as innocent as we thought.
Percy's ingenious.
He has a code that can steal billions with no one knowing,
but in a month it's useless,
so he knows he has to break out of prison now,
but he doesn't have the wherewithal
to get a phone smuggled in, a getaway car, a safe house.
He needs the Russians.
So he breaks out with them,
sets up his get-rich-quick scheme,
and figures he'll just do something to get them all busted.
Like stick a screw in the tire of the getaway ride.
Enough to get the cops on their trail.
We played right into his hands.
Once he gets caught, he plays innocent,
says he was forced to run, maybe gets an extra year.
He gets out, he's got a fortune overseas.
But his plan was to be captured, not almost captured.
So after we almost nabbed him at the safe house,
the Russians knew he tipped us off.
They beat the truth out of him,
and now his last act on earth
is gonna be to make those guys rich.
Walter, does that sound right to you?
Walter, are you still there, son?
I know that's my software they're using to drop bombs,
not aid packages.
It'll kill thousands of innocents.
I didn't know that was the endgame, son.
I swear.
Yeah, it sounds right to me.
He deceived us.
He took advantage of us.
Everything that normals usually do to geniuses.
I thought he was one of us.
I want to nail this guy.
Homeland will come in from the south
to Building “S.” Your men will hit the north.
It's a silent maneuver in case they have police scanners.
So comms off.
We'll drive halfway there, then we'll hoof it
so they don't hear our approach.
Copy that.
Target's 800 yards on the other side of the compound.
So you'll be safe here.
See you when we got the bad guys.
My team, with me!
It looks like Percy's getting close to finishing
that code for them.
He's Morse-coding again.
“Near... done.
Selp?”
He means “help.”
Oh, my God, “S” is three dots;
“H” is four dots.
I sent Cabe to Building “S” instead of Building “H”!
Oh... Hey, Cabe!
He's going to the wrong side of the compound.
Call him.
We can't.
The comms are off.
Once Percy sends that code to the stock exchange,
he's as good as dead.
We gotta get him out of there.
We're not putting ourselves in danger
for someone who's been playing us this whole time.
We're gonna save him because I want the satisfaction
of looking him in the eyes when he's cuffed.
Let him know: the people he manipulated?
They're the ones who are sending him back inside.
How do we rescue a man being held by armed Russians
in an abandoned dairy farm outside Camarillo?
You have no idea how many times
I've been asked that question.
Guys, Building “H” is close.
Follow me, follow me.
Okay, Happy, see if you can get any gas out of that tractor.
Paige...
find her something to collect it in.
You got time to fill me in?
The farm was built in the '20s.
Means old knob and tube wiring, so no grounding conductor.
Now, if I target concentrated
micro-frequency waves... which this remote emits...
to the second floor circuit breaker,
then I can cause it to short out.
But I will need an accelerant.
Which I almost have for you.
Even if we get a fire going
to flush them out, they have guns.
Then so will we. I have an idea.
Doc, come with me and bring your laptop.
Okay.
I should be getting some short-circuiting
and smoke through the circuit breaker by now.
Can't take my hands off the remote control,
so I'm gonna need one of you to throw
that accelerant through the window.
- Hurry. - Me?
I couldn't hit a donkey's ass with a banjo.
You played baseball.
I played right field.
Are you serious?
As a Peek Frean.
Please.
You can just let me go.
No one will know.
Shut up and finish!
I need that accelerant.
Sylvester, this is your chance to show your dad
he was wrong to stick you in right field.
I know you can do it.
Come on.
You can do it.
- One more time, go. - Okay.
Yes.
There's fire everywhere!
Let's get out of here.
Freeze! FBI! Drop those heaters
before I put more holes in you than a salt shaker!
Yeah, that's right, turkeys!
Got you lit up like Chinese New Year!
Happy...
stop shaking that DVD laser so much.
- Shut up. - If you shoot,
- we kill this guy! - Oh!
Oh, you want to kill a convict?
Go ahead!
But you want to dance, let's dance!
I got nothing to lose, comrade!
What is wrong with you?
Russian men grow up watching
bootleg American '80s action films.
I'm the crazy, unpredictable cop with a suicidal streak.
It's working.
What the hell's this?
Oh, man...
Your laptop is dying.
If you're FBI, show yourself.
No.
We're in trouble.
Okay! All right! Don't shoot!
Don't shoot!
Who else is with you?
No one. Just us.
Show yourselves or your friends die!
Walter...
Take Paige. Go.
We are not leaving you.
Walter's the boss, okay?
You were right.
Ralph needs you to look out for him.
Not a bunch of geniuses.
Now go.
Go.
Coming out! Unarmed!
Come on, come on, let's go.
Hey, who are you?
Federal agents.
You're surrounded.
Nice try.
We'll shoot them inside,
let the fire take care of the bodies.
Let's go.
Move!
Drop your weapons!
Don't move.
Freeze!
Let me see your hands!
Look at that...
you remembered to go for the nose.
Come on, in the truck, all the way in.
It's bad enough when people who aren't enabled exploit us,
but if we can't trust each other...
there's no one left.
I know you're not wrong often, but you're...
taking this miscalculation of Percy pretty strong.
I don't care about Percy.
Is this about you and me?
What happened with Baghdad when you were a kid?
You were the closest thing I had to a father
and you betrayed me.
I don't think I've ever really forgiven you for that.
And that's why you've been worried
about Ralph's old man coming around.
You're worried he might get hurt just like I hurt you.
We should get back.
Hey.
I know we don't know each other that well,
but I gotta say something to you.
Please don't talk to me about Drew.
You are the only one who hasn't
tried to tell me how to parent today.
I don't want to talk about Drew.
I want to talk about Ralph.
Oh, well, it was nice while it lasted.
Listen to me.
Walter thinks he knows what's best for that kid.
You think you know what's best for that kid.
But the truth is, I know what's best for that kid.
- Happy... - My dad disappeared.
Ralph counted all the movies his father may have seen;
I watched from the windows of a dozen foster homes
for a red truck with a dented fender.
We have both spent our lives waiting
for someone to come home.
Just to know we still matter.
So if there's even a chance
you can end what Ralph's going through, then you do it.
That's it; I'm done.
- Hey. - Hey.
You're going to let him meet Ralph.
No.
I'm going to let Ralph meet him.
I'm doing it for my son.
Not Drew.
You're going to tell him Ralph's a genius.
That carries risk.
If Drew's going to have a relationship with his son,
he needs to know who he is.
And Ralph's mind is one of the things
that makes him special.
Moving forward, no more interfering.
But if Ralph does need me...
I will be close by.
Excuse me.
Yeah?
I, uh, was wondering if you're hiring.
Sorry.
I'm barely keeping this place afloat myself.
Okay.
Thanks.
It's tough out there, huh?
Been outta work long?
No.
I got a job.
It's just intense at times.
Wrenching relaxes me.
Me, too.
Okay...
Take it easy.
- Hey... - Yeah?
You know, you can, uh, save some time
if you come in underneath the oil gasket.
Is that right?
You mind?
No.
Why don't you go ahead?
- Little light? - Yeah.
You're good.
Thanks.
Hey...
Hi, Ralph.
Want to sit?
I'm really happy to see you again.
How'd you know I'd be here?
You look after the kid, I'll look after you.
Just like I used to.
That's how this is gonna work.
Okay?
Okay.
Peek Frean?