[dogs barking and howling]
[subway clacking]
[intense foreboding music]
[foreboding chase music]
Fuck!
[brick bashing]
[Martin wincing]
[man breathing heavily]
[hand slapping]
[man speaking foreign language]
[Martin speaking foreign language]
[gun cocking]
No, [speaks foreign language].
[Martin and man speaking foreign language]
God bless your men.
You sure you don't wanna reconsider?
[Spinelli spitting]
[door screeching]
Bye.
[soft foreboding music]
[muffled crosstalk]
Mr. President, that was footage
from a hotel security camera in Paris;
a notorious video that was
uploaded on YouTube last week.
We've since taken it down.
We think he tortured Agent Martin
to gain information on Roberto Spinelli,
our ambassador to Italy.
You're gonna have to bring
me up to speed here, guys.
Who is this Duster person?
Agent 9, otherwise known
as Stanley Peterson.
Codename: The Duster.
Is that because he used
to clean up messes?
That's exactly right, Mr. President.
Go on, Agent Bailey.
He's worked for us for the
better part of a decade
until he went rogue on an
assignment in Portugal.
He's been out in the cold ever since.
Who's he working for now?
We think Spain, but we're
not entirely certain.
What we are certain of is what he's after
and what he wants to do with it.
The ambassador's been
missing since yesterday,
the day after his brain was scanned
and uploaded to the hard drive.
What?
It's something called the Infinity Project
that which the NSA just
approved this past week.
It's about to become
standard operating procedure
on all foreign diplomats moving forward.
Ambassador Spinelli was the first.
We can't legally access it
and we currently don't have the capability
to transfer the data.
It's vital that this
information is protected.
If it were to land into the wrong hands,
our national security could
and most certainly would be compromised.
Interesting.
Why am I first hearing about this now?
The director sent you
briefs multiple times.
I don't read briefs.
He knows that.
You just need to tell me.
Very well, sir.
What was in Ambassador Spinelli's head?
All of the true identities
of all of our agents
workin' in Russia and
the European territory.
Jesus Christ.
What is this Duster character
gonna do with the info, sell it?
Whos' buying?
We're lookin' at Spain at the moment.
Tell me how to fix this.
Mr. President look,
there's good news and there's bad news.
The good news is that the
ambassador probably didn't talk,
otherwise you'd be lookin'
at a list of demands
and possibly the start of Cold War.
For Christ's sake, that's the good news?
Do I need to take a fucking
Valium to hear the rest of this?
The reality of it is that
the ambassador is undoubtedly dead
and that would be because he did not talk
and he didn't crack.
He's a hero, sir.
He's only a hero because he was captured.
I like people who aren't captured.
[Martin wincing]
[eerie music]
Mr. President, I think you should know
that our lab got broken in to
and the hard drive was stolen.
Now the information on the
hard drive can't be used
unless you have another host
or a different platform.
If he can't access the data,
then what the hell are
we so worried about?
There may be one other way.
Yes, there is.
The one-man show, the person
that runs the Infinity Project:
Dr. Emile Hauser.
I went to his house last
night and found a dead body.
It wasn't Hauser,
but the simple fact is
is that he got real lucky
and he neutralized one of Duster's men.
But know this, there will be more.
Thankfully they need to have him alive
in order to transfer the data.
But he does need to be
brought in immediately
and given around-the-clock
protection regardless.
Why the hell isn't he locked
up in this room right now
with a dozen armed guards up his ass?
We're searching everywhere sir,
but we don't have a visual.
What?
We don't know what he looks like.
No one's ever seen him.
We don't even have a photograph.
Wait a minute, how is this possible?
He's running an entire top-secret
government program single-handedly
and you clowns don't even know
what he fucking looks like?!
How did that happen?
Mr. President, we don't know.
Yes, it is true.
He is runnin' the entire
project, but we're workin' on it.
We're gonna find him.
We think Hauser's running scared
and doesn't know who
to trust at the moment.
Unfortunately, Spinelli
was our only contact.
But rest assured sir, we are
on it and we will find him.
Yeah.
You two, don't make me look stupid.
[intense orchestral music]
[man whistling]
Fuckin' [speaks foreign language].
[phone beeping]
[agent speaking foreign language]
Yes and speak English.
I got your box.
And what about Hauser?
The box has been left in exactly
the location we discussed.
I'm still workin' deliverin' Hauser.
If you get me a picture, it'd help.
We don't have it; nobody does.
Yeah, I lost a good man last night.
I got others.
Very well.
We deposited the 50 million euros
to your offshore account this morning.
You'll get the remainder
once I get all the elements.
[both speaking foreign language]
[birds chirping]
This is Agent Ramsay and
Agent Milland reporting.
It's approximately 1400
hours and no sign of Hauser
or any sign of life, for that matter.
What the hell's this guy doin' here?
That's the aunt's house right there,
the only-known relative.
Figures we get stuck
with something like that.
But hey, let's give the rookie
shit detail right? [chuckles]
Who's gonna come out here
in the middle of nowhere?
Now think about it: if
you're gonna hang out,
that's the place to take refuge.
Right.
Lemme know when the pain dries.
Knock yourself out.
Wait,
that's the aunt.
Hey, wake up!
What?
What happened?
That's the aunt?
[car bashing]
[winces] Shit.
Put pressure on it.
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
[Agent Milland wincing painfully]
Cover me!
I could die tryin'.
[guns pattering]
[Agent Milland wincing]
[intense orchestral music]
Hauser?
Get me the fuck outta here.
Get behind me!
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
Get in here.
[gun pattering]
[Agent Milland thudding]
Get her in!
She's dead.
Shit.
Shit.
[gun pattering]
[car clanking]
[car engine roaring]
[birds chirping]
[soft foreboding music]
Yeah, this is Agent Ramsay.
I have Hauser in custody.
She's alive and unharmed.
Agent Milland didn't make it; she's dead.
Where are you now?
Parking lot,
just went off to the 17 exit.
I'm gonna text you an address
to the nearest safe house.
Take her there and wait
for our men to relieve you.
We'll send for someone to
pick up Milland immediately.
Copy that.
We missed Hauser, but
we've got his aunt Emile.
She's probably the only
person in the world
who knows where he is.
Give 'em the address.
They're the best I have.
Should I place a call
to your press secretary
before you address the media, sir?
Who do we have in Italy at the moment?
Ocean and Springer, why?
Who do we have in Italy at the moment?
Excuse me?
Are you fucking deaf?
Ocean and Springer.
But what does this have to do--
Get in touch with Ocean and brief him.
I want the Duster
[stutters] neutralized
immediately
and that file.
Sir, are you alright?
[Baker wincing and spewing]
I'll get a doctor.
No, no, no.
Listen to me, what I'm about to tell you
is strictly between you and me.
In the fucking vault,
[speaks foreign language]?
My doctor tells me I have a GBM,
glioblastoma multiforme.
But in simpler terms,
a highly-aggressive malignant brain tumor.
I have maybe three months, if I'm lucky.
Sir.
Now shut up and listen to me.
I have no intention of
announcing my impending demise
in front of the entire free world.
I'd rather drop dead right here
with my tit stuck in that bottle.
I don't understand.
I want what's left of my brain digitized
and transplanted into a new body.
I can conquer the entire world
with the press of a button,
but I can't beat the clock.
I want that goddamn
scientist brought here,
so we can work his magic.
I want the Duster exterminated,
then I want this entire program wiped out
like a bad grade, along with any and all
loose ends.
I don't know what to tell you.
This technology'll be
mainstream in less than a day.
I don't have the fucking time!
Consider it a rare privilege
that someone of my stature
would confide in you.
When this gets out,
I'll need someone strong
leading the front line as
I watch this mess unfold
right in front of me; incognito
and young again.
Well thank you for this opportunity, sir.
I'll have instructions delivered
to Ocean within the hour.
They're ready for you, Mr. President.
Thank you, Joanne.
[soft foreboding music]
Wait a minute, you're Emile Hauser?
Emilie.
Emilie Hauser.
The ruse was necessary to ensure
the security of the project.
Why didn't you tell me?
I needed to know that I could trust you.
And?
Let's just keep this our
little secret for now.
If they knew, what do you think
they would do to me if they got to us?
You have to keep this quiet
or it'll compromise the entire project.
We are this close to this
thing becomin' a reality.
We're about to change
the world as we know it.
Do you even know what I'm talking about?
Yeah, memory transference
or some kinda bullshit like that, right?
We scan the brain and record
all personal memories and skills,
everything that makes any
particular person unique.
Then we upload that into a new carrier.
But basically, you're right.
All we really are is our
own specific memories.
If you ask me, doesn't even seem possible.
Ever heard of Moore's law?
If I told you 10 years ago that
you would be walkin' around
with a personal computer
in your pocket right now,
you would've told me that
I'm full of shit, right?
Probably.
I need to use the restroom.
[Ramsay sighing]
[loud clanking]
Hauser?
[intense foreboding music]
[Hauser wincing]
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
[Ramsay grunting]
[fists bashing]
[gun blasting]
[soft foreboding music]
Drop the gun.
Drop the gun.
Drop it!
[gun clacking]
Son of a bitch.
[teeth chomping]
Ow, you bitch!
[fist bashing]
[Ramsay grunting]
Oh fuck!
[gun blasting]
[water trickling]
Why the hell did you kill him?
He was gonna kill you.
We coulda got information out of him.
Son of a bitch.
He's Secret Service.
He's one of our guys?
We've been set up.
C'mon, we gotta go.
[crickets chirping]
[both breathing heavily]
You're welcome back there.
For what?
Saving your life.
I have more than one chance to leave.
They'll keep coming for us.
I know.
They'll keep coming until you're dead
and I'm forced back in the shadows
performing black market procedures
on the most powerful men in the country.
You don't have to tell me.
Want a free trial?
[machine whirring softly]
Are these what I think they are?
Yup.
Until recently, my son
scanned every willing brain
we could get our hands on.
It's not difficult finding volunteers.
Most people wanna live forever.
How long does the procedure take?
Few hours to upload,
another few to download.
You interested?
No.
We have all the necessary
equipment we need.
Could be outta here by daybreak.
I said I'm not interested.
[scoffs] Suit yourself.
Is this what I think it is?
Not quite.
That's Richard, my son.
I used to scan his brain
every three months because
if I ever were to lose him,
which I finally did two
weeks ago to suicide,
self-fulfilled prophecy.
Well, shit.
Life goes on though, doesn't it?
If your son found peace in
death, you should delete this.
Yeah, I know.
My son had the biggest heart
of anyone I've ever come across.
He had such a positive outlook.
I still don't understand what happened.
Look, the world's a shitty place.
He just decided to do something about it.
I lost a kid, too.
My youngest daughter.
It never really gets easier.
How're you holdin' up there?
Other than a few broken
ribs, I guess I'm okay.
Not much of a fighter, huh?
You open to a stupid idea I have?
Will I lose any of my own memories?
You might.
The brain can only hold
so much information.
It'll delete what it can't fit,
but that'll be mostly stuff
that's been suppressed for
years and rarely recalled;
kindergarten, your fifth
birthday, whatever.
Don't worry, you won't
forget your daughter
or do you want to?
I don't wanna lose my daughter's memory.
This box contains the brain
of a professional martial artist
who used to work for the CIA.
He was recently killed
while on assignment.
You'll inherent all of
his skills, coordination,
along with all of his memories.
You're more or less the same size,
so you should be able
to execute his training.
Will I be able to tell the difference
between his memories and my own?
You'll be aware that you just
went through the procedure,
so you'll have to sift through
what's yours and what's not
as the memories present themselves.
I have the option to
completely wipe your brain
and load this guy into you clean.
But clearly, we don't want that.
Clearly.
I don't know if I wanna go through this.
We're out of ammo and we're out of time.
Do you still wanna risk who we can trust?
At least this way, we'll be
able to protect ourselves.
You could run the procedure on yourself.
I don't exactly have the
host to make this effective.
Let's do it.
Just relax; keep your mind calm.
[machine whirring]
[soft intriguing music]
Stay calm.
[birds chirping]
So how do you feel?
Not much different.
And?
I occasionally get memories
that pop in my head,
but I'm able to ignore them.
I know they're not mine.
Well good, that's perfectly normal.
But how do I know I'm not this other guy?
Because I'm telling you that you're not.
You're Agent Ramsay and
you're here to protect me,
so show me somethin'.
I can see myself doing things in my head.
So do it.
[Agent Ramsay grunting]
[chuckles] Did you see that?
I just did that.
Hell yes, you did.
Do somethin' else.
[Agent Ramsay grunting and vocalizing]
Whoa.
Whoa!
Sorry.
It's okay.
You're still getting
used to using your body.
It's similar, but not exact
to your brain's old host.
But not bad, not bad at all.
It feels amazing.
It is amazing.
Do some more.
[vocalizes] It's incredible.
[soft foreboding music]
[Marla screaming]
[gun blasting]
Not so easy anymore, huh?
[gun blasting and clicking]
[foot thudding]
[fist bashing]
[Ocean wincing]
Listen up, my condolences to Agent Ocean.
[gun blasting]
But this is the deal: if I
find one more dog on my trail,
I'll blow up your whole
fuckin' secret organization.
You got that?
In your arrogance and your conceit,
you're not gonna tame
my homeland any longer.
If I have to topple it
from the inside, I will;
so you let your enemies do as they will.
Your hollow infrastructure,
it's not gonna withstand
a proper revolution, Mr. President.
[gun banging]
[watch cracking]
Goddammit.
How would you like for us to proceed?
Protecting your legacy
and history, of course.
You fucking know how to proceed.
[door banging]
[birds chirping]
Your attention please.
[agents speaking foreign language]
The guy was an alcoholic
and had family problems.
You need to suppress those
memories; they're not yours.
What's the procedure
that's left to transfer?
Doesn't exist.
Perfect.
Do we have some other kinda
safe house that we can go to?
I had to sign-in to use
the equipment at the lab,
so I'm sure they know
we're up to something.
I'll call Agent Bailey.
He's my contract with the CIA.
You sure that's a good idea?
What about the men last night?
Secret Service; not my guys.
You can trust Bailey.
Your call.
[soft intriguing music]
We got a new spot, let's go.
[thunder crackling]
[rain pattering]
Wanna ease up there?
I kinda like you focused.
Addiction's a bitch, but
you already knew that.
Thanks.
How long are we supposed to wait?
Don't worry, we'll have a car
out to us in about an hour.
Yeah, like last time.
Shit, we need to go now.
I'm busy.
We'll go through the side door.
I'm sure they'll have the front covered.
Let's go now!
What'd you see?
[rain pattering]
[soft orchestral music]
[thunder crackling]
[fists bashing]
[Ramsay vocalizing]
Shit.
Is that [mumbles] I'm working with?
No idea.
[both vocalizing]
[gun blasting]
[intense fight music]
[fists and feet bashing]
[Ramsay vocalizing]
[gun blasting]
[body thudding]
[agent wincing]
Ramsay!
She's worth more to you than she is to me.
[gun clicking and blasting]
[elbow bashing]
[Ramsay grunting]
[gun blasting]
[body thudding]
Let's go get some dry clothes.
[rain pattering]
You told me Ramsay would be spared.
What the hell am I supposed to
tell the press about our men?
You tell them nothing.
You keep your fucking mouth shut.
You gave me your word.
My word? [chuckles maniacally]
You're an even bigger fool
than I thought, Bailey.
You think I got to the Oval Office
because of kept promises and integrity?
This country was built on lies and deceit
and I just managed to claw my
way to the front of the pack.
It's a position I have no
intention of relinquishing.
[chuckles] So if you
need to tune your violin,
do it outside.
I'm runnin' outta time.
Now, do we have a lead on Hauser?
Workin' on it, but we have word
that Sanchez and Altea
are back on your soil.
Why was I not notified of this?
You're being notified now.
I sent you a brief yesterday.
Goddammit, I told you I
don't read briefs! [winces]
There's still time to reassess
this entire operation,
Mr. President and reconsider
the possible consequences.
Not just legally, but
physically and mentally as well.
We still have time to pull
the plug on this thing.
If we can get a solid lead on his aunt,
she'll lead us to Hauser's location.
The aunt and Ramsay can be
put in witness protection.
I can't imagine 'em wantin'
to talk after all of this
and who would believe them anyway?
There's still time to fix things.
Speaking of time, my time
is still of the essence.
Which brings us to your next
job, gentlemen; my new body.
Any eligible candidates?
Am I to interpret this
silence as your resignation?
Do I need to remind you
that you both heard things
that can never be unheard?
We're on it.
Perfect.
I thought you'd see things my way.
In the meantime, put
some more men on Ramsey.
With Altea and Sanchez squeezing us now,
you'll need to beef up security as well.
Remember: young, strong
and able-bodied with no immediate family.
I think that should go without saying.
Oh
and
white.
[intriguing orchestral music]
Shit.
Hauser?
Hauser!
Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.
This whole procedure
will go much more smooth
if you just relax your mind.
I have all day.
[machine whirring]
CIA?
Who wants to know?
Hauser inside?
Yes.
But I would have to
insist you stay out here
until they are done.
I'm gonna lower my gun.
But don't try anything, I'm on your side.
Okay, we're done.
That it?
How do I access the memories?
Give it a minute.
They'll come naturally.
I'm sick of you working with your men.
We know how [mumbles] now.
She's digitally uploading the
ambassador's data to Sanchez.
Hauser is able to transfer.
I know how it works.
What's in the data?
The identities of all
undercover agents operating in Europe.
I'm just here to get the
information Sanchez had
and I am turning him over to the CIA.
Once I have proof that
he's illegally stolen data
through transfer, they
can haul him indefinitely.
So when the transfer goes through,
won't they find out your true identity?
[Altea speaking foreign language]
[soothing intriguing music]
[gun banging]
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
How much of the data was transferred over?
All of it. He had a gun on me.
The drive is destroyed.
Do we need the data for anything?
There's nothing that your
agency doesn't already know.
Kill him.
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
Altea, [speaks foreign language].
[Altea speaking foreign language]
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
Do you know where he's headed?
He has no choice but to return
to Spain for protection.
Can we trust them?
They've set us up twice
already after calling in.
Who's your Secret Service man?
I'll have my contacts head
out to your port right now.
No need, I have my own contacts here.
That one looks promising.
No, skin's too dark.
How do you wanna go 'bout
snatchin' this kid up
when we get the right one, that is?
I'm just gonna flash a badge
and take him in quietly.
And tell him what when
we get him in the office?
[cellphone buzzing]
Hello?
This is Agent Altea
reporting on the [mumbles].
We lost Sanchez.
He's uploaded the data and we believe
he's headed to the airport.
Yeah, we're on our way.
What happened?
My cover's blown.
I have Emile Hauser and Ramsay here.
You mean the aunt?
No, Emilie is Emile.
It is no aunt.
You mean Ramsay had the
real Hauser the whole time?
Affirmative.
I will keep them close.
You're not gonna believe this.
We'll get Baker's lover
boy at the airport, c'mon.
Hey you've had nothing but beer
for the last two days, Ramsay.
Lemme go get you some food.
Ramsay if we could ever get
through all of this alive,
I'd like to study your brain.
Believe me, you don't wanna go there.
Nothing but ugliness anymore.
You're the first.
You're the first subject
I've ever performed on
that already had an active brain.
And you went through it anyway?
Worked, didn't it?
You feeling any headaches, soreness?
Yeah, but that was all from last night.
I'm thinking about uploading
my son before it's too late.
To whom, yourself?
Don't do it.
I don't know how much
time any of us have left
and I don't want him living
all of eternity in a box.
At some point you have to let go, Emilie.
I'm sure he'd understand.
And what the hell are
we gonna do with you?
Are you gonna stick around?
I will if someone answers my cell.
May I have your attention please.
[background noise drowns out speech]
Sorry Sanchez, you little asshole.
[chuckles] Yeah he does look
like he's in a bit of a hurry, doesn't it?
Yeah.
Yeah, that's what I thought too.
Lil' fuckin' prick. [chuckles]
Curbside passenger access is limited
to active loading in drop-off zones.
[soft foreboding music]
[Emilie sighing]
Is this normal for him?
You think you can lay off the booze
until we figure everything out?
I'm offering my resignation.
You two are free to do
whatever the hell you want.
What did he just say?
[scoffs] Where the hell
do you think you're going?
You know what they're gonna do
when they get a hold of you.
We're not going in.
You think she's gonna protect you?
So you're just gonna leave?
You're just gonna walk off into the sunset
and life your life in a bottle?
Yeah, thanks to you.
Come to think of it, maybe
I'll renew my passport.
I've got quite a few secrets
that'll come in handy overseas.
Alright Ramsay, play
the victim once again.
You're giving them another
reason to double their efforts.
Where is he going?
I knew this was coming,
just not this soon.
We need to keep you safe
until we have Sanchez neutralized.
Baker--
We can't trust anyone,
especially not Baker.
What then?
I don't know.
Are you taking me to Baker?
[intense foreboding music]
Guys are gonna speak to me
or do I get the silent treatment all day?
Mr. Malmuth, I'm asking you a question.
I suggest you answer.
What're you doin'?
Look, Malmuth was my
codename for three months
while I was doin' recon in Italy.
There is no way he'd know that.
Musta had Hauser transfer the data.
Already?
Goddammit.
Where's Hauser?
He not gonna talk, but he
definitely met with Hauser.
Look, we're gonna have to take him out.
What?
He knows [speech drowned out by music].
We'll call it in.
Baker's gonna tell you
the exact same thing!
We'll make him take us to Hauser first.
There's no way this is gonna
work. [vocalizes and winces]
[gun blasting]
Goddammit!
Fuck!
My contact can be closer.
We will get these things sorted out.
Where is Agent Wright?
He didn't make it.
Sanchez took him out; he escaped.
What?
When did this happen?
Just now.
Never told Baker yet.
Where's Ramsay?
We lost him for good.
Jesus Christ.
We need Sanchez.
Doesn't matter.
Baker will keep you two marked
as targets until you're both dead
and I'm already on the choppin' block.
Alright, let's go inside
and figure this out.
Ramsay's a lost cause.
I have a feeling he may go rogue.
He's got demons rattling around
in that brain of his now.
He has no reason to stay loyal here.
I really thought he'd
be able to handle it.
You know something about
Baker you're not telling us.
It's all classified.
I think we are beyond
keeping secrets here.
What don't we know?
Baker wants his brain
scanned into a new body.
He's dying, he's desperate.
Once he finds a suitable host,
he plans to eliminate loose ends;
that includes research,
you two, eventually me.
Of course he does.
But I have an idea.
What's the criteria?
Young male, strong, able-body and white.
He doesn't really want
it for shitty power.
Whoever we choose,
Baker's brains has to be
scanned into a hard drive first.
He'll have no control over where it goes
once it's in our hands.
He doesn't know you're in on this.
[birds chirping]
[soft intriguing music]
I'm gettin' ready to be rich and powerful
and shit like that?
Possibly, but I gotta be completely
clear and honest with you.
You do realize that we're
about to take memories
and combine them with--
Yeah yeah yeah yeah,
you already said that.
You said that shit.
Like you already paid
me good, don't matter.
Wait wait, what's that?
Don't worry, I'm just getting
you ready for the upload.
Just try to stay still.
I'm curious, what got
you into this life, Mr.?
Jones.
Mr. Daniel Jones.
Wait, you got a problem wit my lifestyle?
Not at all.
I had a good life.
I was studyin' to be a teacher
and my mama got murdered.
She was the only person
who believed in me.
After that, wasn't no point.
They still ain't found the
fool who killed my mother.
Man, that fool is still on the loose.
I'm so sorry, Mr. Jones.
Ooh, "I'm so sorry, Mr. Jones."
My deepest condolences, Mr. Jones.
Bitch, fuck you!
Fuckin' white bitch.
You probably makin' millions of dollars
off this shit, ain't you?
I know you is wit yo nerdy ass.
Shit, you better be glad
you paid me already.
That's why I'm feelin' so good.
Let's get this show on the road.
Are you ready?
Yes.
Here we go.
[machine whirring]
[soft intriguing music]
[Mr. Jones groaning]
[Mr. Jones chuckling]
Yeah, baby.
Comin' home to mama, yeah.
Everything's ready to go.
We just have to get Baker wired up.
I can have him here within 24 hours.
He's flyin' in tonight from Massachusetts,
but he's gonna wanna meet his new vessel.
What am I gonna tell him?
I can't bring this crack
addict into the Oval Office.
We'll have to start looking for a decoy.
Are you comfortable with this?
This guy has no idea what
he's getting himself into.
This crack addict is gettin'
the deal of a lifetime
and we're stickin' it to
Baker at the same time.
What's the problem?
I wouldn't count on it bein'
all cut and dry like that.
Look, our backs are against the wall.
If you got a better idea, I'm all ears;
but we need to act fast.
[Mr. Jones vocalizing]
I'll have a glass of water please.
[cellphone buzzing]
[soft intriguing music]
I got several men on Hauser's trail.
Call 'em off.
Excuse me?
I said call 'em off.
I'll get Hauser.
We had a deal.
Yes, a deal that you clearly
could not fulfill in a timely manner
With all due respect,
I'm workin' half-way around the world.
I expect full payment when I get Hauser.
You got any hairpins?
I'll need a ride to the airport.
Now!
[soft intriguing music]
[water whooshing]
[birds chirping]
Buddy, think you could help me out?
I can pay you.
fuck do you want?
I don't care about the
coin, I just need a fix.
Show me the color of your fuckin' money.
That's all I got.
Thanks, buddy.
Now why don't you just
get the fuck outta here?
Hey, I'd like what I paid for.
Why don't you go cry to the cops, asshole?
I'd appreciate it.
And I'd appreciate it if you
get the fuck out of here.
[Ramsay vocalizing]
[fists thudding]
You son of a bitch.
[vocalizes and punches]
[winces] I think you
broke my fuckin' ribs.
[soft somber music]
[hand slapping]
They're holdin' a press
rally here later on today.
There'll be plenty of young
republicans to choose from.
You'll find someone.
Altea, come with me.
I'll need some leads on Sanchez.
It's a burner.
My number's in it.
Call me if you have any luck.
[soft investigative music]
He will have to get a private
flight out of the airfield.
[soft piano music]
Pardon me, sir?
Hi, may I have a moment
of your time please?
Yeah.
Thank you so much.
The president is speaking at a conference
in a couple of days and he's looking
for a couple of clean-cut
individuals, such as yourself,
to do a feature photo-op with him.
Would you perhaps be
interested in meeting with him?
Yeah.
Wonderful.
What's your name?
Kyle.
Hi, Kyle.
Pleasure to meet you.
Why don't you just meet me
at the end of the hall
in about five minutes
and I will take you to meet the president?
Thank you.
♪ And how to feel in love ♪
[airplane engine roaring]
[intense orchestral music]
Five minutes.
Clear [mumbles].
[plane engine whirring and roaring]
D'you recognize 'em?
No, must be hostages.
[plane engine rumbling]
[guns blasting]
Cover me.
Don't fuckin' move!
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
[glass shattering]
[somber orchestral music]
[plane roaring]
[both speaking foreign language]
[gun blasting]
Here is your fucking hard drive.
My work here is done.
Good luck with Baker.
Motherfucker!
[foot bashing]
I got him.
His name is Kyle Walsh.
We're gonna need to be picked up.
Great, see you soon.
[intriguing orchestral music]
[Ramsay vocalizing]
[fists bashing]
Go ahead, finish it.
Where's Hauser?!
The hell if I know.
Then you're bait; let's go!
It's been fantastic meeting you, son.
You're gonna love my makeup artist.
She does wonders.
We've got a car for you downstairs.
Thank you.
Drive carefully.
What a find.
Remarkable personality
and did you see that face?
Man if I was a guy, I'd a-fucked him
right there in the room.
Come on, let's get over to the lab.
Time's a-wasting.
[soft intriguing music]
I can't get over this.
Who knew Hauser'd have both
brains and a great rack?
How long's this gonna take?
'Bout 10 minutes and another hour
to transfer the data over to Kyle's brain.
It'd be a lot better
if you relax the mind.
The process will go much quicker.
Has Kyle's brain been wiped?
As you can see, he's
clean and ready to go.
Wonderful.
You saved his data though, right?
Just in case.
Absolutely.
Is it possible to re-upload Kyle's data
to his own brain again?
Of course.
How far are we gonna run with this?
All the way, just like you wanted.
You'll have to take out the guards
when the time calls for it though.
There's no other way.
I'm ready for that.
I just don't want Kyle
leavin' this building
without his own head restored.
Understood.
You ready to make the switch?
Yeah, the crackhead's data
is ready to be plugged into Baker.
The drives will be
marked the same as Kyle's
so the agents won't know the difference.
I'll announce when I'm
ready to wipe Baker's brain,
but I won't really do it.
[sighs] He'll still be
self-aware of his own memories,
but with the added memories
and addictions of a crackhead.
He'll know what happened.
He'll know what we did,
but he won't be able to go public with it.
He had us marked for death
anyway after all this.
Perfect.
I'll just need you to distract the guards
while I swipe out the drives;
should only take a second.
Affirmative.
Do we need Ramsay anymore?
I don't think so.
Procedure's almost done;
I'll take care of him.
[fist thudding]
[machine whirring]
What was that?
The upload, it's finished.
Now what?
Now I erase the brain in the current body.
You sure you wanna go through with this?
I'm sick of this trashcan
of a body, just go on.
Just needed verbal confirmation
for my own piece of mind.
You have a story ready
when you try to connect
with family and friends with the new face?
You don't think I've thought
this shit through 1,000 times?
My personal affairs are
my own fucking business.
These men have trained
like goddamn Navy Seals
for the past three weeks.
They know exactly what to
say and how to handle this.
Now just do it.
I'd like to go on the record to say
that I will now erase
President Baker's brain,
to avoid any confusion as I upload it
into Kyle Walsh's body.
As I do this, President Baker's
body will become useless,
but his brain will continue to live on
in the body of Kyle Walsh.
I need you to close your eyes.
It'll make the transition
easier and less jarring.
Gentlemen, I would request
that you remain calm
during this procedure and
try to resist the urge
to react to anything you may see strange
regarding President Baker's
reaction to the shutdown.
We can't control any
muscle spasms he may have.
It may take upwards of 30 minutes
for his body to fully
expire, so please be patient.
Launching now.
[machines whirring]
[soft intriguing music]
Now what?
We wait.
The fuck is that?
[guns blasting]
[bullets pinging]
What the fuck's goin' on?!
Don't move.
If the wires disconnect,
your brain will fry.
Hold your fire, hold your fire.
Transfer's not complete.
Hauser gets hit, we're fucked.
Get behind me!
Ramsay!
Don't move.
Do not move.
Face away from us.
Interlace your fingers
on top of your head.
Stay right there.
[Ramsay vocalizing]
[feet and fists bashing]
[neck snapping]
[body thudding]
[intense orchestral music]
[guns blasting]
[Ramsay vocalizing]
[knife slicing and stabbing]
[agents wincing]
[intense orchestral music]
[gun blasting]
Let Hauser go and I'll let ya walk!
Fuck you!
Baker was an asshole anyway.
[Hauser breathing heavily]
[gun blasting]
[soft somber music]
Richard, is that you?
Can I live in your body?
Can we be together forever?
Hauser, Hauser, Hauser!
Do you recognize me?
D'you know who she is?
No no!
Goddammit!
[Bailey sobbing]
[machines whirring]
What's your name?
It's me Kyle, Mr. President.
Are you okay?
What happened?
What's my date of birth?
What?!
Where was I born?!
I don't know what you're talking about.
Answer me, bitch-ass motherfucker!
Wait, I was supposed to take
some pictures with you tomorrow.
[gun blasting]
[bullets clinking]
[soft somber music]
[crickets chirping]
Hauser's dead for sure then, huh?
Even if she's technically
forming sentences,
she wouldn't be able to continue her work.
You gonna miss her?
She was alright.
I'm more worried about the old Ramsay.
He's still in there.
I checked the lab on the way back.
Baker was gone, Kyle was dead.
This is gonna be one hell of a coverup.
Hauser told me what happened,
why you have all this
new superpower bullshit.
I'd take it all back in a heartbeat.
I know.
No one's past is spotless.
We could still use you at the agency.
Might gain some newfound respect
with your new acquired skills.
There's still a few of
us good guys left there.
I don't think it's worth
the effort anymore,
but I'll think about it.
Maybe you're right.
Let's grab a drink, get hammered.
[laughs] Are you sure?
We gotta love what we can't change.
Alright.
My fellow Americans, the time has come
for a real change in our country.
Homelessness is a national disgrace,
one that must be met with
swift and decisive action.
No American should live
without proper housing.
Healthcare is not a privilege,
it is a basic fundamental human right.
Earlier today with the
support of Congress,
I signed into law a
bill which will provide
over half a trillion dollars
to address these two pressing issues.
The money will be raised
with fair and equitable
tax increases on our richest
individuals and corporations.
[sighs] Never woulda thought.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
We still won.
Don't let it bother you.
We didn't win.
He won.
How come you can't overcome
your newfound demons
and that asshole can
overcome a lifetime's worth
of life-crippling memories and addictions?
That fucking crackhead
was livin' on the streets
when we picked him up.
Maybe so, but that's a question
that I rather not think too deeply on.
Besides, he'll be dead
in a few months anyways.
Doctors say he's now in
spontaneous remission.
It's always the biggest
assholes that catch a break.
He won.
Look at it this way: we all won.
Tell that to Hauser.
I know you don't plan on
going public with this
and I don't blame you, but
whatever happened to the Duster?
He's the only one left that can blow up
this whole operation if he wanted.
There may be one more person.
We'll figure that out some other time.
Fair enough.
See ya on Monday.
"Congratulations on your
successful makeover.
"I knew you could do it.
"Warm regards, Dr. Hauser.
"Fountain Alley
"alone."
[soft intriguing music]
[crickets chirping]
Okay I'm here, let's make this quick.
I've only got about 20 minutes
before my men make their rounds again.
Where's Hauser?
Hauser, who the fuck is Hauser?
You better come clean, bitch.
Excuse me?
Do you know who I am?
I don't give a fuck who you are.
I don't care if you're
the President of the USA
or fuckin' McDonald's.
Yo ass better gimme some goddamn answers
and you better start speakin'
now before I pound yo ass!
I don't have any answers for you.
Man, shut that shit up!
Shut that shit up, man.
Lemme show you this shit, man.
I got a paper right here that fuckin' says
you know who fuckin' killed my mother.
You know who fuckin' killed my mom.
I wanna fuckin' know.
I have no idea.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute, I know that face.
[soft orchestral music]
Am I?
Are you Daniel Jones, the Daniel Jones?
Fucker.
That's right, motherfucker.
You just said the magic fuckin'
words and you know what?
I wanna know who the fuck are you.
Man, you know what the fuck
I been goin' through the last 10 years?
Believe it or not, I know
exactly what you been through.
I can smell the pot of
coffee on the kitchen counter
as you enter the living room.
I can see your mother's eyes
staring into the ceiling fan.
Her head resting against
the couch cushion.
Thin halo of blood around her throat.
I see that image every night
before I finally fall asleep.
You're broken and I'm sorry.
You have my deepest sympathy.
What the fuck, motherfucker?
You been stalkin' me, motherfucker?
You been stalkin' me?
How the fuck? Man, I don't
even have no friends.
Nobody knows that shit.
Unless you're the motherfucker
who killed my mama.
Do you think I could do
something so despicable?
I'm the President of the United
States, for Christ's sake.
Fuck man, this shit ain't addin' up.
It's not addin' up.
I can explain it, but
you'd never believe me.
Just let me do my best to
make things right for you.
I can give you the comforts
of life you deserve.
Let me do that for you.
You know I have the power.
Fuck that shit, man!
You don't have the power
to bring my mother back!
Man, fuck that shit!
[door rattling]
No, I don't.
That I do not.
But if you just give me
a chance to talk to you,
you'd see that you and
I are one in the same.
We ain't the fuckin' same.
We are not the fuckin' same!
Yes, yes we are.
We are.
We really are.
If we the fuckin' same,
do I fuckin' believe you?
No, you don't.
You goddamn right.
Since you know me so well,
what the fuck am I about to do?
We've been doin' so well.
We coulda been something.
[knife stabbing]
[Baker wincing]
President Kenneth Baker
has been found murdered
only blocks from his
hotel early this morning.
This shocking discovery
comes after a recent
and dramatic rise in his
popularity poll numbers.
A full-scale investigation
has been launched,
but there appear to be little
to no leads at the moment.
What's especially troubling is that
the President of the United States
found himself alone in a dark
alley without any protection
and that he somehow got there unnoticed.
[muffled crosstalk]
[intriguing guitar music]
[foreboding orchestral music]
