Get 'em up!
Do it!
On the ground!
Please don't shoot.
Take what you want.
Son of a bitch.
He hit the alarm, the silent.
Let's get out of here.
Stop! Police.
Don't move.
Do not move or we gonna to shoot you.
Come out with your hands up!
He's gone.
The Team Projet-SG
presents:
Sanctuary - Season 1 Episode 04 Folding Man (v. 1.00)
Timing by: Kujathemas, nitrogenc, Salomon.
http://projet-sg.net
I did say 9:00, didn't I?
Sorry I'm late. Bagel run...
assorted savory, poppyseed for the Big Guy, and two kinds of schmear.
What?
Okay, don't tell me that you wanted raisin.
There's an interesting case I'd like you to see. Henry?
Security footage from a pawnshop robbery last night near the campanile.
How the heck did you get into the precinct lan?
I'd like to take credit for that, but I got the password from the boss.
And you got in? How?
Now, where would a girl be without her secrets?
That's... not an answer.
I know.
You'll see the owner shift his weight. That's the foot-operated silent alarm.
Henry, can you go back for a sec?
Yeah, right there. Now, zoom in.
Check that out.
He's scooping up all of the gold jewelry and leaving everything else,
including the diamonds.
- Okay, that's just wrong. - Interesting.
Fast forward, if you would.
Now, they react to the siren and become frantic.
And this gunman fatally shoots the owner in the back.
Brutal.
They split up, and one is pursued down an alleyway.
There's the dashboard camera from the cruiser.
And into a coal chute basement.
Okay, I'm still not getting why this ends up on our radar.
- Just wait. - The officers enter the basement
just moments after the gunman did, and once inside,
they report that there's no sign of him.
- So, what, he just disappeared? - According to the police,
there was absolutely no way this man could have possibly exited.
It's all in the police report. Quite the enigma.
Have I taken your mind off bagels?
Oh, yeah. Sure. Knock yourself out.
No tape.
No seal.
Crime lab finished their sweep this morning.
Concrete floor. No windows...
This doorway was bricked over decades ago.
And if he didn't leave the way he came in...
Oh, please don't tell me we have another teleporter.
Not likely,
but I'm not ready to rule anything out quite yet.
What about this?
- That? - Yeah.
Yeah, sure, if he morphed into a boa constrictor.
No, Will's right,
if only as a potential place that the robber hid his booty.
I never saw a man with that small a booty.
We did bring Henry's camera?
Yeah, we did. It's in the van.
That's a nice toy.
A "toy" like this helped discover several secrets of the Great Pyramids.
All right.
Go slow.
Switch on the UV.
UV is up.
So how does a fingerprint get that deep into the middle of a 10-inch pipe?
Well, it doesn't, unless a person squeezed in that far.
Yeah, but you saw the size of that guy.
Well, I've seen stranger things.
Okay, seriously, why are you staring at me?
If I didn't know any better, I'd say we were looking at a folding man.
- A folding man? - Urban legend.
Crops up in city after city.
Supposedly, a man who's capable of collapsing his skeleton
to fit through narrow spaces.
The legend falls short of a feat like this.
But it is possible that we're looking at some sort of super-folder.
Okay. Help me out here.
You're familiar with a newborn's fontanelles?
Yeah, the soft spot on the top of a baby's head, sure.
Nature created it so the child could fit through the birth canal.
Yeah, but for a newborn, the head is the widest part of the anatomy.
And, what, you're talking about in an adult? It's impossible.
Will,
look around you.
10 days ago, you would have said all of this was impossible.
- Henry, could you run the print? - I'm on it.
These urban myths we're talking about
go back a lot further than contemporary sightings.
But they're all part of what, the same phenomenon?
No, no, there's quite a range.
Flexpeople...
Whole tribes with genetic defects in collagen synthesis.
There's a sect of shinto monks that are said to bow without bending.
Then you've got your turn-of-the-century sideshow contortionists...
The human corkscrew,
Henry Athol the boneless wonder,
and not the least, my personal favorite, Elastic Ed.
But no one's ever been able to fully document these folding men?
If they even exist, they must be quite elusive.
You know, there was this case that I worked on
at the Agency that never got solved but had a
very similar set of circumstances.
Austin, Texas, 2005.
How do you know about Austin?
Are you serious? She knows when you switched from boxers to briefs, man.
What's the similarity?
Three bank employees gunned down in cold blood,
and the robbers run into a vault with the cops on their heels,
and apparently "disappear".
According to Will's report, the only possible means of escape
was a nine-inch-square ventilation shaft,
a scenario that didn't win you many points, if memory serves.
No,
but it gets weirder.
The only thing that was stolen in that robbery
was half a million dollars...
in gold.
Do you think it's possible that
Austin and our folding man are somehow connected?
At the very least it's a working theory.
Henry?
Got a rock-solid match on the fingerprint.
Belongs to a career lowlife named Malcolm Dawkins.
- Is there a last known address? - Nothing recent.
Lago Vista, Texas, about four years ago.
Lago Vista, that's right outside of Austin.
Maybe I can have the bank robbery case file from my old partner at the Agency.
Will.
Tell me the rumors aren't true.
What rumors?
Working in-house for an internet gazillionaire,
fired for insubordination,
consultant for some sort of area 51 freakazoids? Take your pick.
Can't a man just
run away and join the circus without being second-guessed?
I can't believe you want me to bail you out.
How many times did I have to pull you out of the fire?
I kind of lost count.
Is that it?
Case files, bloodwork, everything from Austin federal.
You're a good man, Jake, I don't care what anyone says.
I'll be gutted like a mackerel if they find out I brought this stuff to you.
- I just wanna take a second look. - Out of the blue?
Come on, Will.
Just call it a hunch?
If it bears any fruit, you'll be the first to know, I swear.
You've got 72 hours.
You compromise that evidence in any way, I'll swear you held a gun to my head.
That was my backup plan.
Looks like your cold case file may have given us our first positive lead.
I analyzed trace blood from that bank vault.
It didn't match any of the victims.
Means it must have come from the robbers.
You have a DNA match? We could never find.
Nor did I, at least not to an individual who left it,
but we did find someone right here in old city
whose DNA matches 16 alles out of the 20 that we looked at.
That many genetic markers has got to be a relative.
Probably the Austin thief's father.
He's a 71-year-old by the name of Oliver Braithwaite.
His DNA was in the system from a suspect sweep a few years back.
- Do you have an address? - He's a drifter, from what we can tell.
Hangs out in my favorite part of town, the old Bryant Street corridor.
Excuse me, I'm looking for a man, Oliver Braithwaite.
Good evening, ladies.
I was wondering if you knew of a man named Oliver Braithwaite,
an older gentleman...
Thank you.
Any luck?
Did you find anything?
Oh, yeah, I got a great recipe for a rubbing alcohol martini.
They know the name. They just seem afraid to talk.
Stay close.
I believe you're looking for me?
Oliver Braithwaite?
- Are you the police? - No, absolutely not.
You really have no business being here.
My name is Magnus,
- Dr. Helen Magnus. - The Sanctuary?
It's all right.
Leave us.
I heard about the Sanctuary ever since I was a boy. A good place,
where people like ours are treated like human beings.
- But you're not... - We're better than human.
- We have the gift. - The gift of folding.
My days of folding are long gone.
We'd like to talk about your son.
Aaron?
You know where he is?
- He's missing? - He's taken up with a mad man.
- I can't contact him anymore. - We're talking about a folder?
They call him Nomad.
He's taken the best of our youth,
ripped them from their homes, turned them against their families.
Aaron was... going to study medicine.
What's this Nomad's agenda?
Well, he may be crazy, but...
he's also a criminal genius.
He gets folders hooked on this addictive drug of his.
He's got some hotshot drug chemist to make it locally.
If I could... find out where...
I'd kill him myself.
We want to stop this Nomad too.
Maybe we can help each other.
I just... want my boy back, that's all.
We'll do everything we can. I promise you.
So, who would know about this high level of trafficking?
What about our high-flying friend, Mr. Jones?
Worth a try.
- You trust an addict as an informant? - Of course not. He's a crime boss.
Controls most of the city's drug traffic.
I like your office.
Can't beat the view.
And you know I prefer our conversations private.
'course, you're taking your life in your hands coming up here.
Well, I could say the same about you,
considering your line of work.
So now Miss Thang is working for the cops?
You know me better than that.
What can you tell me about folding men?
The only folding men I'm interested in are dead presidents.
I'm looking for a fugitive folder by the name of Malcolm Dawkins.
The folding men are like their own little tribe.
They don't come to me or anyone else for their needs.
Your crime network caters to abnormals?
Drug distribution, prostitution, gambling...
- Am I missing something? - You left out my charity work.
Right.
Mr. Jones, the only one with resources to find a folder on the lam is you.
I'm not the only one who's well connected,
which brings me to the reason I agreed to see you.
- Not that I don't enjoy your company... - Save the flattery.
My street troops have been getting signals in the past week
that someone is about to make a very big move,
as early as friday evening.
Nomad, right?
What he does with his own criminal enterprises is really not my concern.
- What is your concern? - That he's making his move on me.
It's how he's planning to consolidate his power.
I'm thinking we can do each other a solid...
I tell you where Malcolm is,
you get a lead on Nomad and take care of my problem.
More than fair.
Our good friend Malcolm's been spotted near the old cannery.
My men went to capture him, but he's...
slippery.
Thanks, Mr. Jones.
- If this works out, I owe you. - I'll hold you to that.
Watch your step, Sista Girl.
Yup. You too.
There he is. Get him.
I've got him!
Malcolm!
I've sedated him.
He'll be out for at least a couple of hours.
You know, you pass him on the street, you have no idea what he's capable of.
You could say that about almost anyone.
Well, here's a reminder that he's not like anyone.
- The gaps in the bone... - Hinges.
Crumple zones, if you will.
Now, watch. I'll trigger a localized reflex.
- Incredible. - Efficiency of form, but at what price?
I'd better see about transferring this guy to a cell.
One without vents.
Did his blood tell us what he's addicted to?
Are you strapped in?
I have been since I got here.
I'm guessing it's not your everyday heroin?
I'm guessing it's gold.
TPG... Tertiary Phosphene Gold. How did you know?
I didn't. I just figured it had to explain their obsession with it.
So folding men steal gold and turn it into their own form of crack?
Gold's unreactive to most chemicals,
but it will bond to certain organic compounds.
Now, this one's part of a whole new wave of metallotherapeutic pharmaceuticals.
- So it's a medicine? - For normals, yes.
But for folding men, at least based on what I've seen of Malcolm's DNA,
it creates a virtually instant craving.
It likely dulls the pain of folding, acting like a sort of beta blocker.
Without it, the pain would be beyond excruciating.
If Jones is right,
two nights from now, Nomad floods the market with this,
cheap, powerful TPG.
It turns the whole society of folding men
into his private criminal army.
If this quantity of designer drug is being made locally,
it'll leave a trail... We'll look for that.
Meantime, find out what you can from Malcolm.
- What about the police? - What about them?
Well, I mean, this guy's an accessory to murder, maybe more...
And what would you have us tell them?
That their man's addicted to gold and that he slithers like a python?
That's a good point.
Where am I?
You're safe.
Who says?
I'm Dr. Zimmerman.
Will.
What is this place?
We call it the Sanctuary.
Am I...
- the only one here? - Only abnormal?
Or you mean another folding man?
Don't know what you think you're hiding. We've seen what you can do.
So are there more here?
What are you afraid of?
You chased me,
you trapped me, you put me in this... in this cage.
You experimented on me.
Well, that might make you angry, but that's not what you're feeling.
If he finds out I'm here, he'll kill me.
Nomad?
- Why would he kill you? - He gave me the signal, shoot to kill,
- and I hesitated. - And that's a capital offense?
He came that close to executing me on the spot.
Son of a bitch!
He hit the silent.
Do it.
Let's get out of here.
How do I know you're not Nomad?
Nomad never would've let himself get caught
unless he wanted to be.
He would've turned you into a stain on the sidewalk first.
Why'd you bring me here? What do you want?
I want you to help us get Nomad before he can do any more damage.
- Nomad's not the problem. - No?
- You wouldn't understand. - Try me.
You're the problem.
The whole world of normals, you can't accept those who are different.
This whole place is full of those that are different.
What does that make you, the zoo keeper?
And what about the drugs? They make it less painful?
- What, normals don't use? - They don't use gold.
So if I shot heroin, I'd be a model citizen, right?
You know that he plans to exploit every last one of you?
He wants to free us.
Children against their parents,
abnormals against normals...
How many more like that pawnbroker need to get wasted on the road to freedom?
- I need a fix. - I'm sure you do.
Let me guess, you used to set ant colonies on fire
when you were a kid, right?
- Where's Nomad? - I may be weak,
- but I will not betray my kind. - If you give a damn about your kind,
you'll see that what this lunatic is doing ensures their destruction.
Go to hell.
It's pretty much what I expected.
I can get him to talk.
I just need more time.
There's an expression amongst creature hunters.
If you could teach a lion English, you still wouldn't understand him.
- We're not talking about a wild animal. - It's exactly what we're talking about.
Only this guy's way more intelligent than most.
And, as a consequence, more dangerous.
I'm late.
Going out?
I owe it to Mr. Jones to tell him what we've learned.
Stay safe.
How does a flying abnormal fall to his death?
Somebody literally clipped his wings.
There was a struggle with a knife, undoubtedly at the top of the building.
The assailant left traces of his own blood.
- Did you run it for DNA? - No matches to an individual,
but genetic markers indicate it was definitely the blood of a folding man.
Retribution for the help that he provided us?
Not retribution, a power grab...
Control of the city's crime syndicate
and hundreds of thousands in drugs and cash.
Just as Mr. Jones feared.
No doubt Nomad will use it to pay for his truckload of TPG.
We've got less than 9 hours.
If we don't intercept that shipment and Nomad gets his way,
the city had better brace itself for a crime epidemic.
I still think Malcolm knows more than he's telling us.
Has he ever talked about Oliver's son?
Aaron. No, not yet. Why?
Well, based on his father's description, he might be a chink in Nomad's armor...
Intelligent, close to his family...
- See what you can find out. - All right.
TPG, TPG, TPG... Nope, nope...
I keep checking on the key ingredients for making TPG, like you asked,
looking for shipments to any nearby locations, but still nothing.
Break it down further, Henry.
The chemist may be making the constituent compounds themselves
in order to avoid being detected.
Oh, I get it.
See who's buying the ingredients to make the ingredients.
Precisely.
The gold drug... When does it arrive?
Austin federal, 2005.
That one took you down a notch, didn't it?
What, did you expect me to deny it?
Nomad knew more about you than you knew about him.
Irony was, you came so close to breaking that case.
- He got a real kick out of that. - Were you in the vault with him?
Yeah.
- That didn't bother you? - Of course they bothered me.
The bank manager was begging for his life.
Said he had two little kids, one with serious mental problems.
Nomad just shot him in the head, laughing the whole time.
All those years, you didn't think about just walking away?
And go where?
We had to stay together for safety. Why is...
Why is that so hard for you to understand?
Why don't you tell me about Aaron Braithwaite?
Aaron wanted to stand up to him.
- Did you consider listening to him? - No, you don't get it.
You have no idea what Nomad is like.
Tell me.
He makes you weak,
and then he tears you apart.
And then he puts you back together,
only it's his way this time.
Aaron always said if we had any chance of breaking his hold on us,
we'd have to stop using.
- We can't keep doing this. - It's wrong.
You want to be free again, right? You want to see your family again?
Of course, but
- We've got to be united if we fight . - And then what?
He'll hunt us down like dogs.
That's exactly what he wants you to think.
Did I interrupt something?
No. I didn't ask you, Malcolm.
I was asking Aaron.
You stirring up trouble again, Aaron?
Have you had your fix today?
If anyone has something to say,
they can say it to my face.
Relax.
I brought you some glitter.
The gold...
The gold drug has always been the key.
Nomad has to keep us hooked on it.
You must be going through hell.
I'll survive. I can fight it.
But can you fight him?
Not by myself.
How many more innocents are you going to help him slaughter?
Help me, Malcolm.
Aaron talked about a place...
About a place we could go to...
If we ever got away from Nomad.
If Aaron was in that apartment, he must have moved everything out.
You think these might be his things?
Maybe.
Or maybe
Malcolm led us on a wild goose chase.
I'm so sorry.
When we promised you to find your son,
I never imagined that it would be like this.
I wanted
Aaron...
to be a doctor.
I could imagine him working in
a place like the Sanctuary.
He was a smart boy.
He was kind.
What is there left for me?
What's left for any of us?
When you broke it all down for me, the most basic recipe for TPG,
no shortcuts, everything from scratch,
the only local buyer is a small manufacturer
just three miles north of the city.
Aridan Labs...
It's almost 4:00.
Our chemist will be leaving for his rendezvous any time now.
Well, if we're right, he should lead us straight to Nomad.
I've come up with a chemical test for the TPG, once we find it.
It's the only thing that will turn this liquid a brilliant blue.
- What about Will? - He wants one more run at Malcolm.
I don't think we should take him away from it.
I'm sorry to have to tell you this,
but we found Aaron
- at the location you gave us... - No...
There's not much doubt about who's responsible.
He was my best friend.
If I had only supported him,
he'd probably still be alive,
if we had all just stood up to Nomad like he wanted...
His blood is on my hands as sure as if I pulled the trigger myself.
But you didn't pull the trigger.
- You're not a murderer, Malcolm. - Amn't I?
How do you know what I'm capable of?
You're right.
I don't.
I've watched him kill more than once
and done nothing.
I helped him beat a man to within an inch of his life.
And guess what, I enjoyed it.
I've given over
what I am,
who I am, to a monster.
Your awareness,
your remorse, that's what separates you from Nomad.
Nomad's just an excuse. My addiction is just an excuse.
I'm the monster.
I'm the monster!
Help me get him,
- Malcom. - Look at me.
I can't even
get through a day without gold
- pumping through my veins. - You're kicking it.
And if you can do it, so can other folding men.
I'm too weak.
My strength comes from the gold
and from Nomad.
No, your strength comes from you.
Malcolm, listen to me... Folding men are dying.
Innocent people are dying. Now, you know where he is.
I can't...
Why don't you do it for Aaron?
He gave his life up for you guys.
We're running out of time, Malcolm.
I can only
tell you where they used to be based.
It's in an old factory. The city...
shut it down.
Toxic metals.
All kinds of places
to hide.
No matter where
Nomad moved, he always kept information there,
in loose floorboards, in the walls...
The locations of his safe houses, the drug labs,
weapons caches...
Where would I find these things?
I'll give you the address,
I'll...
draw you...
diagrams of it, describe it all to you.
Or you could just come with me.
That's...
That's not going to happen.
Do it for Aaron.
You're doing the right thing.
Trust me.
Okay.
Let's go.
Sorry.
No deliveries after hours.
Tell us what's in those containers?
Sure. Just don't shoot me.
It's laxatives.
Sorry, I don't believe you.
Hands up! Get 'em up! Both of you.
It's not TPG.
Sit down!
I'm sorry, Malcolm.
Don't be.
I mean,
I'm sure under normal circumstances, you're a very good judge of character.
I'd like you all to meet Dr. Zimmerman.
You'll find you have a lot in common...
No backbone.
- Carver, get me a chair. - Yes, sir.
And get me my gun.
Right away.
How do you know what I'm capable of?
Nomad never would let himself get caught...
Unless he wanted to be.
He may be crazy but he's,
also a criminal genius.
On the ground.
He hit the silent.
Let's get out of here.
You're not stirring up trouble again, are you, Aaron?
Have you had your fix today?
If anyone has something
to say,
they can say it to my face.
I'm the monster.
I'm the monster!
You're Nomad.
Carver
is your pawn.
- They're all your pawns. - Mind like yours, Zimmerman?
Too smart for the room.
Overthinks everything...
The easiest to
manipulate.
Can't you see what he is?
He's just an addict.
He's just an addict with a messianic complex.
- He doesn't care about any of you. - You still don't get it.
I love my people. I'm doing this
for my people.
No more cowering in the shadows. I'm bringing them into the light.
And what about anyone who gets in the way?
I think you know the answer to that.
In a little while,
I'll have my hands on enough TPG to draw recruits from all over the continent...
A small army of the most powerful folding men.
Whatever you do to me,
they'll know,
at the Sanctuary.
They'll know, and they'll be all over you.
If I know Dr. Magnus...
and I do, at least by reputation...
She's undoubtedly already fallen for my bait.
It's amazing the kind of disinformation you can plant
with just a little know-how.
And you'll love this, Will.
The TPG,
my TPG...
It wasn't made locally.
It's coming from Austin.
I wasn't worried about the police
or Mr. Jones
or anyone, for that matter, except the Sanctuary.
I had to make sure that none of you would interfere.
He ordered you to kill that pawnshop owner.
- All it took was a look. - Well, unfortunately, all these
revelations... You won't be able to share them
- with the rest of the world. - And what about Aaron?
Going to let someone take the rap for that too?
- What's he talking about? Is Aaron... - He's dead!
It's a terrible shame.
Jones had him killed,
and then he stuffed his body in a washing machine.
I never said how he was found.
He was my friend.
Put the gun down, Carver.
Put the guns down, all of you.
That looks like barrels of fun.
He was just a kid!
He was trying to undermine me.
He was trying to undermine all of us.
- He deserved a traitor's death. - Drop...
the guns. I will not ask again.
Son of a bitch.
Will...
I'm sorry, I...
How did you know?
I had a tracking device put on your car...
Just in case.
Four to six weeks and most of our folding men
can be returned to their homes...
Hopefully drug free.
Look, can you just say it, please?
I mean, it's the elephant in the room.
I let myself get conned.
We all let ourselves get conned.
Some of us just had a plan B.
Well, that's the last time I play by the old rules.
Don't be so hard on yourself.
We stopped the destruction of an entire culture of abnormals.
And you got to the bottom of one of your Agency's biggest mysteries.
You're right. What am I talking about? I'm a hero.
Actually, on a scale from zero to hero, you're more like...
Ashley...
Almost respectable.
Just under the wire.
Thanks again, Jake.
Did you get what you need?
Yeah.
Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did.
So...
What, are you going to try to reopen the Austin murders?
No,
I couldn't make any more sense of it this time around than I did the first.
It's a shame, really.
Yeah, well,
- We can't solve 'em all? - No, I mean you.
I don't think I've ever met an agent with more raw potential.
I appreciate.
It's too bad you still can't seem to catch a break.
Don't worry about it.
Sometimes...
Sometimes you gotta know when to "fold" 'em.