damnit.
-- i know.
hey, becky? when're you going to start wearing makeup? kwame laughs as becky tosses her smock at jerry:
dude: no its not.
your first mistake? underestimating dwarves. power can come from anywhere -- tomorrow night i'll give you first roll and a bonus pack if y--
that -- wow. good for you. so it's your last night. you're gonna spend it collating.
and that's why we have those rubber thimbles in the drawer --.congratulations on cornell, though, that's huge! track with him out to.  a counter area as, he pins on his nametag: "jerry." rows of copy machines and computer cubicles. he takes his place behind a register. smiles, getting it up:
welcome to kinko's, how can i help you? the chugclick-chugclick-chugclick sound of the machines gets louder and louder as they become the sound of:
whatever are you cooking right now? is the greatest thing i've ever smelled in my life, i swear to god --
-- here's some of it -- most of it -- but i've got something else for you.  something special.  eyebrows bobbing. mrs. wierzbowsky knows exactly what it is. sighs. knows she can't resist him --
so i think. no, i'm pretty sure that's the best one so far ---
oh, no, no. i couldn't -- unless, you know, you insist. he sits at the table, starts eating. this is their routine.
oh, the redhead? no. she.  that's over. she got smart.
well, womenareipretty smart. i've discovered.
your -- i'm like your dog?
why do you think that is? as she pours a drink into a plastic cup --
this is -- vodka -- jesus, its eight- thirty in the morning --
its my mother.
is problem.
hey, mom.  jerry stands there in silhouette. listening. something is happening.  .suddenly he loses his balance -- sinks to the floor, phone to his ear -- staring in pain --
-- no! i-- i'm not him! all eyes on him. his voice, sad, heartbroken:
it's okay! i'm not paul! locks eyes with his mother and father up in the front pew. their eyes red from crying, withered shells. and jerry gives a lame wave before heading reluctantly up to the coffin. devastated, he leans in -- and we move around to see the body: and it's fucking him -- jerry's very own face, but one that seems to have been reconstructed after some kind of accident. gruesome and handsome all at once. this was paul shaw. jerry's identical twin. off the surreal moment.  a reverbed trumpet plays, the tune familiar. in fact, it's:
didn't realize it'd been that long.
nowhere. singapore. alaska for a few weeks. got a job for a while. on a. fishing boat. met some great p-
i'm trying, you know, just to -- but william has just started crying.  sobs of absolute loss. jerry stands there, frozen, until william embraces him. jerry hugs him back -- tightly, grateful and starting to feel again. and just then, william says, quietly, through tears:
no. -- dad, i'm okay. i'm doing really well. i promise. his father holds out some bills. north of two-hundred dollars. it's a stand-off. the question is: does jerry have enough pride to reject the offer? and the answer is.
-- whoa -- jerry stabs cancel again. now ten more $100 bills-come out. he glances at the people in line, nervous--
-- two seconds, sorry -- eyes flick back to the atm camera. he covers it with his hand, pushes "cancel" again and again. but now.  ten thousand dollars in $100 bills has come out, getting jammed' in the slot. people start to peer over as jerry scrambles to keep the cash from flying everywhere. and finally. the machine stops. he stuffs all the money in his pocket. everyone's staring.
big date. so.  fingers crossed.
here's the rest of the rent -- next month's, too --
just take it -- it's okay, i owe you --
for me?
-- hello? a woman's voice. we can't place why.  but it's really creepy.
-- what? who is this?
who the hell is this?! rips back the curtain to see a swat van screeching up -- a flack- jacketed team pours out, assault rifles ready. jerry goes pale.
jesus christ -- what's happening?!
look, man, i don't know what this is -- i don't know how all that shit got in my apartment, but unless you're my lawyer--
it hasn't been ideal.
you tell me.
why? what am i doing here. i don't even know who you are. morgan tosses his black leather badge wallet onto the metal table. it lands open with a substantial clung!
counterterrorism center? you think i'm --
if you're asking if we were the kind of freaky twins you see at the mall wearing the same shirt, no. listen, paul traveled a lot, so we didn't --
what're you.  saying.
am i getting a lawyer here? 'cause didn't hear my rights read to me--
what? no, why? morgan pulls out a surveillance photo: jerry, college-age, at a student rally holding up a sign with an image of the pentagon crossed out in red: "declare war on war!"
wait. come on -- okay: her name was julia, she was the smokinist girl i'd ever seen and she wanted me -- i would've gone to an "anti-oxygen" rally for her. i swear to god, dude--
why'd you stay in? i don't know, i didn't really see the point.
unless i've been fired from kinko's, which is a statistical impossibility, i'm holding a job right now.
-- what can i say? guess i haven't found myself yet --
for as second i thought god, maybe. the atm was obviously broken -- or do.  accidents not happen in your . universe?
a woman, i don't know! she called me and told me i was gonna be arrested. get
i work for kinko's!!.
i thought there was no phone call.
hello? dad--?
no wav -- who are you?! behind jerry; the steel door unlocks -- he whirls to the opening door -- waiting for a guard -- someone, anyone.  but no one comes.::: what the hell is this?!
what fire?! how'd you get on this phone?! are you the one doing all this to me? why?!
wait, what d'you mean "follow the water"? suddenly: tshhhhh! jerry turns -- in the hallway, a ceiling sprinkler sprays. the fire grows, raging from the vent --
shit!!!
listen to me! i'm not trying to escape! the fire erupts between them, obscuring each other's view. no choice, jerry turns, hurls the chair at the window, it shatters:
-- jesus --
-- listen -- lady -- who are you?!
--.how do you know that? where are you? jerry notices another security camera in the corner as:
go to hell. how's that. he hangs up, drops the phone and stomps on it. eyes from fellow passengers. then every cell phone on board ringing in unison.
stay away from me! the cop pulls his gun, yelling through the glass:
yeah, thanks, we're on it --
-- my name's jerry shaw, i've been set up -- somehow i don't know -- by --
-- oh, no way --
-- sixt ! go to sixty! and suddenly the crane drops the girders -- rachel screams --
shit!! and the steel beams slam into the pavement, just behind the bmw,
go right go right!!! rachel yanks the wheel, skids round the corner -- more police screech in ahead -- she's forced to veer onto a one-way street!
-- you're doing great --
-- this thing's on auto-pilot or something. which doesn't happen, these barges are operated, by people. he steps out. in thought, tears in her eyes, rachel asks:
are you kidding me? she changed every traffic light! this woman's called me on other people's phones -- some dude who happened to be sitting next to me! his phone rang -- it was her! for me! she broke me out of maximum-security custod in a way i'm not even gonna tell you cause you won't believe it -- and you saw how she directed us away from the police, then lifted us outta the world and dropped our ass onto the ghost barge! can she derail a train? she could probably turn a train into a duck. yes. i think she c--
i mean.  i don't know, i'm not sure she could derail a train, what the hell do i know? rachel brushes her tears away. afraid, but fighting it.
-- you see what i mean? he wipes it off, holds it to his ear despite the stench;
hello?
lady, what if i told you we don't know how to swim.
she called you "the female." that's like.  something a foreigner would say, like a bad translation. but she has no accent.
does it bring back memories of westport y?
i didn't. and they turn to look down at the freezing river water as we pre- lap the sound of a clear f sharp and cut to --
yeah, i know.  that's occurred to me.
excuse me? i would offer this whole situation isn't "obviously" about anything.
-- so what?
wait a minute -- you're suggesting all that stuff was for paul? as they approach tower 108:
he hasn't been dead long enough to become a memory! and if you knew paul, which you did not, you'd laugh all day at the idea that he was a spy or terrorist or whatever you're implying --
well hasn't that been the question my whole life. you know how i know paul wasn't a terrorist? because if he had been, he would've been the best fucking terrorist in history: he wouldn't have gotten caught, the united states would be a crater -- he would've won awards for being a great terrorist.
really? suddenly they're interrupted by the roostertail of dust approaching in the distance. rachel stops dead and on instinct, grabs jerry's hand, all their mutual hostility vanished:
who are you? rachel grabs jerry's arm as the man reaches into his jacket --
-- dropped off what? who are you?
what's it for?
wait!! and jerry takes off after him, he's not letting him go. catches up to the guy and grabs him. spinning him round --
what do you know?
-- who's doing this? and they begin to struggle. middle eastern man's dropped cell phone rings. rachel. terrified, hesitant. knows somehow its for her -- she answers:
you killed him.  you killed that man.
-- rachel. she's watching us. right now. you wanna die too? your son? we have to go. rachel looks right at him, still shaking, knows he's right. and nods. okay. okay. as our music builds, larger than you might
how old is he? your son.
what's he doing on a train? she really doesn't want to talk. but:
wow. and you. hm. she turns to him. eyes burning into the side of his head. knows what he's thinking.
is it okay? i could give a shit.
i'm not allowed to nod?
i'm just thinking, sounds like a big deal, especially for a 9-year-old -- playing at the kennedy center -- i'd just think at least one parent might wanna be there to see it.
well, you're not wearing a ring and you haven't mentioned anyone but your son is on that train. even the most pissed off ex-wife -- which i'm not saying you aren't -- would've mentioned it if her ex's life was threatened -- and if kyle was going to meet his dad in dc? you would've tried to call him, too. so where is he? kyle's dad?
insightful? intuitive? a better driver than you --?
okay, the most fascinating thing here? is that you don't know the first thing about me!
-- love being stuck in a van with my fucking guidance counselor --
-- you need to stop talking about my brother, i've had enough of that --
why not? my brother's a terrorist, and i'm a loser right? he starts to walk away. rachel desperately opening her door
i'm done.
you're on your own. rachel starts running after him,panicked, leadin :
i'm sorry? what'd you just say?
you mean without the "man-child?" rachel's reserves crumble.
no more accusing my brother of shit you know nothing about, is that understood? rachel looks at him. nods. finding her voice again --
could be worse. could.be.a federal prison.
yes, thank you, we'd.  like that. the manager walks them across to a secure elevator with a thermographic scanner. the manager looks at jerry expectantly, waiting for him to place his hand on it. he does: a flash of light, identifying him as: "saxon, carl." jerry's eyes: this is madness. the elevator doors open.
maybe it's not gonna be so bad.
-- i don't suppose -- there's any easier way to`get whatever the hell it is you want -- is there? miss? but she's not answering.
excellent.
don't! the men freeze -- jerry holds his gun awkwardly --
uh.  hi. how's it going. put. it on the floor. the briefcase. we don't wanna hurt you guys, we like you guys -- just -- we need the case.
i think we're already mid-shitstorm. do it. the men exchange glances. reluctantly, courier #1 punches a combination into the case's padlock, the cuff pops free from his wrist. he slides it over to jerry, who reaches for it.  and courier #2 makes a move -- smashing jerry back, knocking the gun out of his hand.  jerry crashes to the ground, the bone mic falling out of his ear.  he turns, shit! sees it skitter under the table. the courier sees it too and grabs his chance: snatches up the case and runs for the elevator -- rachel rushes him, trips him -- he falls, dazed -- jerry leaps up but courier #2 effortlessly flips him on top of the steel table, slams jerry's head into the counter, unholsters a back-up gun from his ankle -- brings the barrel up as: bam! a gunshot! the couriers spin to see rachel, holding the gun that was kicked across the floor:
would you stop doing that?!
is this a bomb?! 'cause i am not walking out with a bomb! hey! you! but she's done talking. as the elevator doors slide open--
like you got into a fight. me?
just keep walking jerry looks at the clock above the-stadium. then over his shoulder at the bank. steers rachel over towards the vendor. trying to stay calm.
two jerseys and two hats, please --
i don't know what that means --
uh.  both. the two couriers running out of the bank. pointing right at jerry and rachel across the street. everyone starts running toward them. jerry shoves a jersey and hat at rachel--
put these on --
do it!
thanks, uh, we're in kind of a hurry --
no! 2 trot it. thanks, though.
knock yourself out. the bellhop is still looking down at his palm when jerry shuts the door on him.
nice? one night in this place is more than one of my paychecks; and that's before taxes -- he heads over to the minibar. starts rooting through it, pulling out those tiny bottles of alcohol.
if we're going down, i'm gonna go down singing. hey! chocolate covered almonds, i love these!
what the hell's in the briefcase?
bullshit! this is crazy! you're a television set! you don't watch me, i watch you! i wanna know what the hell's going on!!
-- "not be efficacious"?! who the.fuck talks like that?!
we know you're watching! we know you're listening! we know you know€.'everythina. so why don't you stop hiding and tell us
wait, you think we're a.threat?
you're drafting us?
what'd my brother have to do with this? a picture of paul shaw's defense i.d. pops on screen:
no, he worked for the state department:
what's the hell is a 'horseman'?
alright, this is bullshit. i'm not doing this --- and you're a computer, you don't know a goddamn thing about my brother.
rachel? we gotta go intercut: rachel in the bathroom, her face betraying the horror of what she's just heard, what aria's just told her to do --
night shifts. i'm used to. rachel sits up, sees the napkin. grins, surprised.
one of my only party tricks.
you have to understand, i wasn't his twin, i was more like his.  little brother. always trying to catch up. and you wouldn't believe how.  nice he was to me. teaching me things when we were kids, telling me how great i was. he was the only one who ever did. of course he was involved in some super secret national security project. he was a superstar. he had a rocket strapped to his back. i'm the fuck-up.
i wear it like a medal, like it actually means something.  but the funny thing is? this is probably the most important thing i'll ever do. this. right now. this completely insane journey or whatever it is. i'm actually needed in something, me. jerry shaw is required. but what am i thinking? i'll probably fuck this up, too --
no. i'm not being hard enough. that's been the problem. they look at each other. a real moment for jerry. a seismic shift in his life perspective. but then something catches his eye -- his look darkens. out the window, a highway sign: "dayton international airport." the driver's.tinted divider window lowers, he offers a folder.
uh.  could you give us a minute? the chauffeur nods, the window rises again. heart pounding, jerry grabs the briefcase and slides back the timer sheath to check the countdown: "00:15:36. 00:15:35"
-- we know what she can do, she doesn't need us to crash a plane --
rachel -- til we met, i had nothing to lose. we do this together. a long look between them. as they realize, this could be it.
you're doing a great job. as they walk on, he checks the timer, 00:03:22.  00:03:21.  11 they pass a kids' band and their teacher, gathered around an airline customer service desk.
-- we aottago as morgan races forward, aria acts: the x-ray screen fritzes again as another carry-on goes through, revealing its "contents" as a hand gun and knives! the tsa agent hits a red button --
(they do:
oh, jesus.
it's okay, .  see? i' mokay. you can do this, i'm telling you. strong. buoyed by him, she gets courage and fires too, wincing--
hey, hey.  look at me. she finds his eyes, it calms her.
i've never done 'em in a cargo container. despite everything, she smiles at that. he reaches for the walkie and turns it off. shutting aria out. for the first time, they're alone. he keeps her distracted:
tell me something --
-- anything -- something personal, something you would rationally never tell a stranger like me
-- where's you ex-husband? you didn't tell me before--
-- how could it be your biggest mistake? you got kyle out of it.
where is he? your ex-husband?
-- what? really? why?
mail fraud? you married a -- mail fraudist? or whatever?
so you're a good influence. and rachel actually laughs -- but just as quickly darkens.
do you have a picture of kyle? rachel reaches back into her pocket'. pulling out a beat-up, crinkled, damp picture. jerry shines the walkie's blue light: kyle, holding his trumpet. one front tooth missing.
 he plays the trumpet?,
(his heart breaks for
-- who?
i think i know where we are.  she sees it now too -- a fire:schematic of emergency exits. the building diagrams the all too-familiar pentagon.
not on your life, lady -- supercomputer, whatever you are 6-- to motivate him, a real time feed from kyle's train springs up onto the big monitor. rachel gasps: kyle looking out the window, goofing off with his friends.
alright! shit! don't hurt him! and against every instinct.  he sits. looks up in horror as the machine arm lowers, its claw opening to ensconce his head within the laser grid -- light flashes --
horseman id 556sy77. disengage biometric lock. voom: a matrix of programming: code spews across the screen:
what is that?! a target list --?!
oh, jesus, paul was trying to stop you
that truck didn't run a red light, you made it happen.  he lurches up -- spins to rachel -- electric coils strike him in the chest -- he goes down hard as 50,000 volts courses through him -- reveal: she's holding what we now understand, is a tazer gun -- tears streaming --
where's morgan?! i need to talk to him!
no no, wait, look, i need to talk to him
-- the what -?
i .don't know what you're talking about!
i'm not playing games. you want me to talk? lose the cell phone -- (mnrf¿½
-- your pager and watch -- i'm not saying another word 'til all that shit's gone! radios, walkie-talkies, gps, anything that gets a signal -- get rid of it, now. morgan looks jerry, knows he's not fucking around --
she's like this.  brain -- jacked into everything: cameras, phones, tvs, satellites, ever thing --
i swear to you, she said she was created by darpa or something --
my brother tried to stop her and she killed him, that's why aria needed me, my face -- he put some kind of lock on her and she used me to undo it. why do you think she brought me to that room? morgan stares, trying to decide if he believes it --
don't you wonder how we were always a step ahead of you!? think about who i am. she set us up.
people like you go after people like me. we become the headlines and she keeps on ticking.  i'm telling you, i saw a list--
--the president was on it, the vice president, there were like twelve people--
it was a target list.  she's trying to take them all out. look, that thing killed my brother! if we don't stop this, he died for nothing, and i'm not letting that happen. morgan -- wildly torn --
that explosive you were talking about --
no way.
yes!
unless she doesn't know it. they lock eyes. now or never. morgan pounds on the divider, barking to the guards up front:
-- oh god -- nonononono -- morgan's breathing, it's shallow. jerry tries to stop the bleeding, to free the metal from morgan's chest, but even pulling it a centimeter causes morgan to scream in agony --
i'm sorry! jesus, i don't know what --?
-- lemme try and get you. free
i understand!!!
the government would like to buy you a new car -- pulls her out as she wails in protest. steps on the gas, veering onto a side street -- as click! click! click! the traffic camera takes his picture and we cut to: aria cam: jerry's face: "82% probable match -- shaw, jerry."
you gotta be kidding me!! he yanks the wheel hard, careening into the forest just as the missiles slam into a ridge and explode!
fuck yourself! a bright flash from under the harrier's wing as a missile launches. jerry hurtles down an embankment as it explodes against the wall, shattering the matrix's windows -- he fights to control the car, spots a tunnel running through a hill -- guns the car into it as the jet banks hard --
listen to me, i've been working with a dhs officer, he gave me his badge, he was just killed, you gotta radio in a 10-13--
you have to move, right now! radio it n i n! there's a bomb in the building! (they.look at each
i told you, agent tom morgan, he gave me his badge! listen to me! there's a woman, she's brunette, 5' 7, blue eyes, her name's rachel holloman--!
you gotta get everybody ootta here now!
kyle -- "o'er the land of the --" jerry screams and starts running for the podium -- agents tackle the president, people start screaming.  bam bam! jerry's hit twice as he grabs kyle, knocking the trumpet from his hands.  it falls.  falls.  falls to the floor. as it hits, we cut to:
hey, little man! locks eyes with rachel. her heart beating like a drum, happier to see him then she'd ever imagine. and. jerry holds up a present for kyle.
my new thing.
yeah?
i have my life back.  i can do whatever i wantihwtit.
and i think.  i finally know what i want. and we see in her eyes, she feels the same about him.
i dunno -- computer dating service? rachel laughs, giving him a playful push as we cut to: