Lockruf des Goldes

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system,

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

I designed The Machine to detect acts of terror

but it sees everything,

violent crimes involving ordinary people.

The government considers these people irrelevant. We don't.

Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret.

You'll never find us

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

What are you doing tomorrow?

I'm serious. We should do it again sometime.

Band was good, conversation was good,

- You look fabulous. - You're so sweet.

Must be easy to get beautiful women when you are a diplomat's son.

She'll live.

You, amigo, you can blame your old man.

- Hey. (SPEAKING SPANISH) - Huh?

If your father had been smart enough to work with the cartel

you might have lived long enough to kiss her good night.

- Hey! - What?

- Who the hell are you? - Tonight, hostage negotiator.

- Raffi, come on. - Man, you're crazy.

Damn. You're welcome.

- They never say thank you. Yeah, I wonder why.

Maybe if you figure out a way to save them before all hell breaks loose.

Thanks, Carter. You know, for what it's worth...

...you're looking kind of badass in that uniform.

Yours is still the same except the mask is new.

So where are all your friends?

Can I be honest?

I only asked you out because you're drop-dead gorgeous.

But after sitting down,

really getting to know you over dinner,

I realized I think you might be

the most fascinating woman I've ever met.

Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls.

In fact, I know you do.

And after you get into their pants, you get into their bank accounts

just like you did with Paula Scarlatti.

Poor Paula was so heartbroken, she told her mobbed-up old man.

He and his gangster pals just put a big fat bounty on your head.

And can I be honest?

I only went outwith you because of them.

Hey, what are you doing? You're gonna get me killed.

What are you doing?

Here's the deal, Don.

You need to leave town, change your name and get some game.

Start now.

I appreciate you resolving this situation, Ms. Shaw.

However, perhaps in the future,

you might try to complete your assignments

without quite so much violence.

You see what she did? I'm not a human shield.

No, he just got in the way.

That's it. I'm not working with a lunatic. I'm out.

You know how to find me.

Can't say we didn't already know, Finch.

First time we met, Shaw shot me.

I realize that Ms. Shaw is an effective asset

but I'm not sure I can work with somebody

who refuses to carry a cell phone off the job.

People out there are trying to kill her, you know.

Some of the same people that are trying to kill us.

Yes, Machine still seems to be giving them numbers.

Whatever else it's up to is almost too troubling to contemplate.

Meantime, our latest number,

petty officer second class Jack Salazar, United States Navy.

- Petty officer or petty criminal? - Bit of both, I'm afraid.

He assaulted a man during a barroom brawl five years ago.

He all but put the guy in a coma.

The judge gave him a choice: Jail or the military.

And Jack chose the Navy.

- So what's he doing here? - Fleet Week.

The annual deluge of drunken sailors

that somehow does not qualify as a military attack.

Come on, Finch, it's just a bunch of crackerjacks blowing off steam.

Then it's back to the boat by midnight.

I'm afraid countless sailors in uniform

are going to complicate our efforts to locate Mr. Salazar.

If Jack's like most sailors, it's booze, broads

and a tattoo in that order.

I suppose you know the usual haunts.

Sure, it's two-for-one boilermakers in Hell's Kitchen.

That sounds horrible.

Whiskey.

- That's six bars down, Finch. - Excellent. Only 1274 to go.

- Another round? - Only if you're buying, Jack.

Wait a second. Got eyes on our sailor, Finch.

So there I am, separated from my team, deep in North Korea

with nothing but my buck knife and my M9.

Am I leaving anything out, Jack?

Crocodiles, poisonous darts, your sense of shame?

I'm getting to that.

Oh, my God. What did you do?

Baby, that's a long story and I'm only here until midnight,

so why don't we go someplace quiet and I can tell you all about it?

- Ashley, let's go. - I think the lady wants to stay.

- Screw you, jarhead. - I'm not a jarhead, I'm a squid,

but a tube steak like you doesn't get to call me either.

Leave it, RJ.

We're here to have a good time. Nobody wants trouble.

Somebody call somebody "jarhead"?

Look, man, don't do this. Let me buy you guys a round.

Yeah, I could use another.

- You're gonna need to pick that up. - Or what, squid?

One of you split-tails gonna do something about it?

Well, he's gonna have to take a swing at you.

Then your knuckle-dragger buddy over here is gonna jump me.

After I introduce his face to the bar,

I'm gonna put this foot upside of your jarhead.

Upon which all hell breaks loose. And nobody wants that.

I like this guy, Finch. - Hm.

Mr. Reese? Everything all right?

Yeah, just shore leave, Finch.

Cops! Let's get out of here!

Looks like I lost Jack.

Finch, how many squids are there in the city right now?

Uh, approximately 6,000. Why do you ask?

I think we're gonna need backup just to find him.

All hands on deck.

When I was a kid,

computers made more sense to me than people.

You said you wanted to set The Machine free. I already did.

My name is Root. Please talk to me.

Can you hear me? Absolutely.

Robin, did you hear anything I just said?

Okay.

Look, some of the patients have complained

about you talking late into the night.

And since cell phones are strictly forbidden and you have no roommate,

I can only conclude that you're talking to yourself.

Is that correct?

- You wouldn't understand. - Try me.

I have a direct line to a higher power.

It speaks to me.

I see.

So, um, you're hearing voices.

What are those voices telling you to do?

It's just the one voice really.

It wants me to stay here, to work through some issues.

- And what issues would those be? Methodology.

We're discussing how I go about things.

You're not alone.

All these news about government monitoring our digital lives,

recording texts, emails, phone calls. Well, it's unsettling.

You know, it's easy to feel violated, even paranoid.

Let me ask you this, do you have feelings that you're being watched?

Every now and then.

Any idea whether our sailor's a victim or a perpetrator yet?

No, but he sure knows how to handle himself in a fight.

What else we got on this guy?

He scored all fives on his evals last year, highest marks.

Same on his physical readiness test.

The Navy may have bigger plans for him.

His contract's up in six months. He'll be free to go.

Can you find out if he's taken any other tests?

- Academic or PST exams? - I will.

Although it seems like getting into a barroom brawl on shore leave

is not very prudent for someone with further military aspirations.

Jack didn't start that fight but he's willing to finish it.

I would've done the same thing. His shore leave buddy was in trouble.

Robert Johnson Phillips,

petty officer third class and ship storekeeper.

And first class troublemaker. They're shipmates.

Which means that they'll have

to sign back into the ship together after midnight.

It might help us to enlist another asset with military experience

to help track down them down.

Just let me go. I won't do it again, huh?

Caught this one flashing his junk in the park again.

All excited about the randy sailors in town.

Carter, what are you doing here?

Third time I caught this guy in Hudson River Park

which makes me think he might know something

about that homicide you caught there yesterday.

I appreciate you looking out.

Look, I'm still a cop, Fusco. How's your new partner?

Guy's a box of rocks.

This whole thing's a crock,

everybody knows you got hosed on that shooting.

What, do they expect you to push around a squad car the next ten years?

- Till I get my 20. - You just now clocking out?

- Oh, our mutual friend. - Looks like your day job just began.

Carter.

Checked every bar in Hell's Kitchen

every tattoo parlour on the west side.

Where the hell else would a swabbie go?

To get some. He's a sailor. Come here.

- Ma'am. - Why are we stopping here?

I told you, this area is restricted. Sailors aren't supposed to be here.

Well, when did the Navy outlaw pastrami?

See that phone booth? Just watch.

The mayor know about this place?