Lethe

Time's up. Told you I'd end you.

Not today!

Finch, got a problem.

Reese has really gone off the reservation this time.

We're out of options. We need Root.

I know this is our only option, Ms. Shaw.

I just want to make sure we're prepared for what may happen.

Mr. Reese, we save lives. You save lives.

Not all of them.

- Ms. Shaw. - We have a new number yet?

- No, not at this time. - It's been a while.

Guess the city's scumbags have been behaving.

- We could use a little quiet. - I don't do quiet.

That's why I took this job and the one before that.

Not sure I appreciate being associated

with your former employers, who tried to kill you.

It's not like this job's any safer.

Speaking of quiet, have you heard from Reese?

As soon as he was strong enough to stand, he left without a word.

Any idea where he went or when he's coming back?

I'm afraid only Mr. Reese can answer those questions.

Goodbye, Ms. Shaw.

Whiskey.

Just keep them coming.

Another game, huh? Double or nothing?

- Okay. - What are you trying to pull?

What, you think you can hustle me?

Come on, man, it's just a lucky shot.

Well, your luck just ran out, pal.

Hey! Hey! Hey, come on!

Somebody help me! Take it easy, guys!

Let me know if this is taking it easy.

Stop.

I'll be going out for provisions later.

Please let me know if there's anything in particular you require.

Just a book from your cart.

Top shelf, third from the right.

"False Gods: Pseudepigrapha In The Modern Age?"

Doing a little light reading, Ms. Groves?

I know it's been hard for you, Harold,

what with everything you've been through.

And now even John's left.

Still, you really shouldn't take it out on her.

I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.

I'm talking about you ignoring her.

She has a new number for us.

How did you get this?

Are you communicating with The Machine?

I understand why you wanna quit, Harold, but now is not the time.

She wants us to work together.

I knew you were holding out on me.

Must you do that?

- So we have another number. - I haven't decided.

"Decided?" I didn't think you got to decide.

Actually, I do.

Okay, well, is that gonna happen anytime soon

or should I be looking for some action elsewhere?

Arthur Claypool.

- Something wrong, Finch? - No, nothing. We should get to work.

You're in the hospital's employee database as Dr. Anne Moore.

You sure you don't wanna play MD, Harold?

I never made a convincing doctor, even when I was one.

No, I think it's best if I stay here

and find out as much as possible about Claypool.

So what are the details on this guy?

He lives and works in Maryland.

Until recently, he was an IT consultant at a software company,

Runyon Technology Solutions.

His most recent credit card charges are at the hospital gift shop.

- What room's he in? - That's the strange part.

There's no record of him in the hospital's admissions system.

- I got him. He's here. - What's this?

Then his medical records must be on file.

I found them.

According to this, his diagnosis is glioblastoma multiforme.

Brain tumor. Does it give a prognosis?

Terminal.

So, assuming this guy is the victim, who would wanna kill a dying man?

I suppose that's what we need to find out.

And how are you doing today, Mr. Claypool?

I suspect more honeybee than dragonfly.

- Excuse me? - Lifespans.

Dragonfly is four months. Honeybee is four weeks.

Well, so long as you don't go mayfly on me...

...we won't have a problem.

Are you new? Or have I just forgotten you?

- You haven't forgotten me. - Oh, well, give it time.

My mind, it's like a computer with a corrupted file system.

I know I want to remember something and I go to open the file

and then it's just gone.

And then, the next thing I know,

memories come flooding back and out of me like a loon.

Including a few that really shouldn't.

And what memories are those?

Mr. Claypool?

Have you hard-coded the essential values?

I'm sorry?

We must check the database after every operation.

Excuse me, Doctor... "Moore."

I haven't seen you on this floor before.

That's because I haven't been here before.

I just transferred in.

- From where? - New York General.

What's your specialty?

Clinical oncology and palliative care. What's yours?

- Let me know if you need anything. - Sure.

Finch, Claypool has a government security detail.

What did you say his job was?

IT consultant. I realize that's somewhat vague.

Maryland address, vague job title, security detail...

I'd say he's got top-secret clearance or better.

He said his tumor was causing memories to flood out of him,

including some that shouldn't.

Could be someone's planning on shutting him up for good.

His security detail is using a three-man wedge formation.

Meaning what? - Meaning they're Secret Service.

Finch, who the hell is this guy?

Are they sparrows, Dad?

Oh, close.

Tell you what.

You help me with the truck

- and I'll help you with the birds. - Okay.

Engine's flooded and I can't for the life of me figure out why.

Where's the socket wrench? I had it right here in my hand.

Um, Dad?

I don't know where my head is lately.

Here, you want to try one?

Don't lose it.

Gonna need every piece.

Nothing in here that doesn't have a reason to be.

Except the dirt.

I'll get that.

Sorry, took longer than I...

Look.

I'll be damned.

But you're not supposed to take things apart like that.

You understand, Harold?

Well, if they don't want you to get inside...

...they ought to build them better.

Okay, son. You held up your end.

You still want to know what kind of bird that is?

Any progress, Ms. Shaw?

Claypool's security detail won't leave his side.

You find out anything more on your end?

No. His minimal digital footprint

tends to support your idea that he did secret work for the government,

but it also makes it exceedingly difficult

to determine the true nature of any threat.

Well, I can get rid of the guard dogs.

I just need a gallon of anything flammable.

- What? - Oh, relax. We're in a hospital.

Ms. Shaw, I'm sure there are ways to get to Claypool

that do not involve any kind of combustion.

Fine. But I'll need a partner.

You could be a hospital administrator.

I'm afraid I'm unable to do that.

Ms. Groves is requiring additional supervision at the moment.

Hang on. Uh, Claypool has a visitor.

A woman, looks to be about his age. Tall, brown hair.

Like this?

Yes.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

- Diane Claypool. - His wife.

Records show they've been married a little over 20 years.

No. No. Stop! Honey, please.

Wait, how did you get in here? How did you get in here?

Patient's in distress. Step aside.

He's not in distress, just confused.

What do you want? Nothing! I'm just here to see you.

I don't understand wh... No, no, you... I don't...

You don't have any authority to be here.

I can't listen to you because this is a secure floor

- and you don't have SCI clearance. - You are not at work.

Arthur, please, just look around. You are in a hospital room.

First of all, who do you think you are to talk to me this way?

I'm Diane. I'm your wife.

You just don't remember.

No. No.

Uh...

I don't have time for these games. I am on a deadline.

- I have to fix it. - Fix what?

Samaritan. It has to be operational before they can...

Okay, that's enough.

Samaritan? What are you talking about, Arthur?

They don't think I know what they're gonna do

but I actually do know what they're gonna do.

They want to kill it but I will not let them.

- I have taken precautions. - Just take it easy, Mr. Claypool.

He is not deceived who knows himself to be deceived.

Excuse me. I'll be back.

- Finch, did you hear that? - That seems to answer the question

of whether Claypool worked for the government.

Yeah, on something called Samaritan?

The name is familiar. I'll see what I can dig up.

Well, I don't think I'll be getting close to Claypool anytime soon.

But I can get to the next best thing.

It's no Starbucks but it gets the job done.

I hadn't really noticed.

I'm sorry about the scene back there.

on...