Aletheia

What do you think, you're the only one that's hurting?

Finch send you? He's worried about you.

She has a new number for us. So, you two know each other?

Harold and I go all the way back to MIT.

He said his tumor was causing memories

to flood out at him.

There was a second machine and Arthur built it.

Do you know of anyone who'd wanna hurt your husband?

Vigilance.

I suppose this was inevitable. Control.

One of you is gonna tell me what it is I wanna know.

How lucky are we, Agent Hersh?

I thought I was getting Arthur's broken toy, Samaritan,

but you, Harold.

I know who you are, what you've done for us

but since you stole my device,

I've been worried its intel might dry up.

That's why you've done these terrible things to Arthur.

Obliterated his wife's identity, stolen her life,

all for a contingency, a plan B?

But now you're here. A plan B might not be necessary.

You can tell me where you hid my program.

I don't know. It moved itself. It doesn't answer to me anymore.

The first one to talk gets to live.

I bet your friend will give me Samaritan eventually.

Congress shut down Samaritan in 2005,

destroyed the code. It doesn't exist.

Of course it exists.

Please, I don't understand.

You told me you took precautions.

Two drives disappeared during the Samaritan purge.

Where are they?

I can't access the right file.

Trying. It's corrupted.

We'll need some enhanced methods.

Agent Hersh, do you have some ideas?

Mm-hmm.

Agent Shaw.

It has been a thrill watching you work.

Two to the head, please.

And be careful of the blood spray.

Arthur.

Sorry about the blood spray.

I told you, Harold. We were supposed to work together.

Scold him later, Root. Cut me loose.

Come on.

Let's move. Make a left at the end of the hallway

to the service elevator.

This way, go.

Elevator code's 5228 pound. Go!

Nice to see you again.

You're behind the wheel. In the front.

Stealing a car, almost dying.

It reminds me of the old days at MIT, Harold.

We got to move.

Engines are go.

You're right, Arthur, just like college.

Where are you off to?

I need your help with the tractor today.

Got to plow the fields then you can go see your friends.

Dad, we can't, not today.

- Where are you taking those bags? - I packed them for you.

You're moving.

You remember The Pines?

The staff there,

they can take care of you better than I can.

Yeah, of course. Of course.

It'll just be for a little while until I'm clone.

I'm making something that'll help you.

You're still working on that memory thing.

Not just memory. It's more of a friend.

Maybe one day, this guy will watch over you,

learn from you, protect you.

Well, if anyone can do it, it's you.

The world spins on dreamers like you, Harold.

Yeah, I should change, shouldn't I?

You know, I'm gonna tell everybody at The Pines

my son is changing the world.

Why does Control want the drives to a broken program?

The program's only broken until somebody smart fixes it.

We should hurry. For all we know,

Arthur gave Vigilance the location of the drives during interrogation

and Control will find us soon, somehow.

- Arthur. Come on. - Yeah.

Are you sure that you did everything correctly?

Excuse me?

Because if the alarm was not disabled

- then Nathan is gonna get expelled. - Nathan?

His mind has slipped back to 1981, to MIT.

Our friend convinced us to do a hack,

a prank at the Harvard-Yale game.

Everything will be fine, Arthur.

It was sort of an anti-nuclear proliferation statement.

- And to impress certain ladies. - A rebel and a skirt chaser.

No, no, no, Harold doesn't need to chase.

He's got a certain gravitational pull

with the female population.

You know, I think that Nathan should be here by now.

- Arthur. - Yeah?

Nathan isn't coming.

You've drifted away.

Nathan, he's dead, isn't he?

Arthur, what Control said, now, I need you to think very hard.

Was it true? Did you make a backup?

Save it, Harold. He's closed for business.

Of course I made a backup.

It's just that that woman seemed quite dangerous,

so I played the tumor card.

It was a ruse, remembering to forget.

You're growing on me, Arthur.

- Who are you? - Never mind.

Arthur, we need that backup even if it's broken.

Samaritan is our best chance to ensure your safety.

- Can you remember where it is? - Yeah.

It's With...

It's with a dear friend of ours.

Arthur's back with us but I'm worried about Ms. Groves.

We should have heard from her.

Hello there. How are you, Miss May?

- Call me Root. - Of course.

And you can call me Control.

I believe our interests are aligned.

The government can help you escape.

Our department can protect you from Harold

and his friend in the suit.

You have been running missions for them, correct?

I'm more of an independent contractor.

Is that why they committed you to an asylum,

to keep you contained?

Seems everybody wants to lock me up.

What I saw in the hotel

confirms something that I have long suspected.

You have administrative access.

You have found a way inside The Machine.

I want you to give me that access...

...for the sake of your country and perhaps for other payment.

It'd be like giving a five-year-old keys to a jet.

Irresponsible and stupid.

Well, that's a shame.

I was really hoping to do this the easy way.

However...

...there are other options.

Hey. Rise and shine, wonder boy.

Truce, right?

Because round two won't go so good for you.

I'm not gonna fight you.

That was very stupid of you, Lionel.

You should know better than to hit me.

- You're lucky to be alive. - I won my points, Holyfield.

Are you getting us out of here? You know, throw your weight around?

The yokel sheriff of East Bumblesquat

can't read an NYPD badge.

Better get comfortable.

This is the place.

Our friend has a safe deposit box. The drives are in it.

A safe deposit box won't do us much good without the key.

Claypool's been rocking footed pajamas for months.

I doubt he still has it.

I'm afraid we've lost him to his medical alert button.

I was wondering why that thing didn't work.

- Hello? - Hello.

- Can I help you with anything? - Yeah, do you have any Twizzlers?

We're here for a safe deposit box in the name of...

Smoot. Rudiger Smoot, box 433.

Of course, Mr. Smoot. This way, gentlemen.

Just breathe.

This is fun.

In the 1960s,

the government experimented with various substances

to enhance interrogations.

A barbiturate in one arm to knock you out,

an amphetamine in the other.

A roller coaster of sorts.

You can only take so many rounds of it

before your heart explodes.

Shall we begin?

- Where is it? - It is beyond your reach.

You think you're in charge?

It's adorable just how wrong you are.

Your safe deposit box is just over here, Mr. Smoot.

- Who the hell is Rudiger Smoot? - It was a dare.

Arthur said I couldn't create a false identity

sound enough to open a bank account.

The added challenge was the obviously fake name.

- Rudiger Smoot. - "Rudiger"?

Nickname Rudy, the one Claypool was dishing about to Vigilance

while he was jacked up on sodium pentothal.

If he told Vigilance the location,

we'll soon have some rather aggressive

privacy activists on our hands.

Sooner than soon. We got company.

They're using tricked-out lasers to fry the security cams.

It's Vigilance.

I'll slow them down.

Here you are. I'll need your key, Mr. Smoot.

Don't! No one gets hurt!

Everybody down on the ground right now!

You heard him! Down, now!

I'm not gonna tell you again!

I've always said banks were meant to be robbed.