Previously on Warehouse 13...
Mr. Lattimer, I'm with the government.
You're to be in South Dakota at noon tomorrow. You're working for me.
No, no, no, no.
Why are you here?
I was ordered here. Said it was a matter of
national security. National security.
Arthur Nielsen. You can call me Artie.
I'm thrilled you're on the team.
What team? What is this place?
You're both joining me as fellow gatherers and protectors of secrets.
Bering. Mr. Lattimer.
Welcome to Warehouse 13.
We take the dangerous and unexplained and lock it away right here.
Your job, hunt down whatever's threatening to ruin the world's day.
Snag it, bag it and tag it.
We haven't met. I'm Mrs. Frederic.
Warehouse 13, is it yours?
It's mine. And so are Lattimer and Bering.
Excuse me?
Hello, Laura.
Hello, Mr. Jarvis.
You did something different with your hair.
I did. Added some color.
I like it. It looks good. Thanks.
We're here.
Hey, Kelly. Made the deposit.
Well, I'm... I'm sorry, but don't make this my fault. Okay?
Okay, okay, lucky shot. Lucky shot.
Don't forget, who's your daddy? That's right.
What? No, I'm fine. I'm not breathing heavy.
Chicago again.
That's... Oh, come on.
No, no.
Does corporal punishment work on computers?
They're old. They're very old, these monitors.
They've been acting up all morning.
I mean, I found out there's another robbery in Chicago.
I can't even access... You know what?
I'm gonna recycle you both for parts!
How about that?
Artie.
That's coming in through an external server.
Someone just broke right through the firewalls.
And reading Warehouse data files?
No, no, no, no, no.
Not yet. He's just fishing,
and he won't break through the Zaytak subsonic security systems.
Okay. But, Artie, who would even know about the Warehouse,
let alone be able to make it this far?
Who indeed? I'll put a trace on him.
We'll find out exactly in which pond this scum resides
if we just follow...
He was ready for my trace. He's very good. I tip my hat to you, sir.
I think we'll just have to find this guy the old-fashioned way.
How are you sleeping?
I'm not.
I can tell. Your aura looks like hell.
Then stop looking at it.
Hey, Leena.
Hey, Pete.
You're dripping on my floor.
If you'll excuse me, I have a date with a forward pass. Where's Myka?
She's outside on her phone.
Oh, jeez.
I know, I know, Mom. Call it a retirement party all you want.
We both know Dad's never letting go of that bookstore.
Mom, I can't, okay? I just... I have a lot going on right now...
Head's up! What?
Hey. You all right?
What is it with men and their balls?
Yeah.
Where's my phone? Where is my phone?
It's at your feet.
Hey, a third bank was robbed on Friday in Chicago.
So, what's going on?
Something strange. I don't know how the robbers are doing it,
so you two are going to Chicago to find out.
Chi-Town. Chi-Town.
Head's up.
Hey, does Artie seem a little crankier than usual?
How long does it take to find a security tape?
Here you go. Thank you.
Jumpy much?
Okay. I don't think we're getting the tape.
Bonnie Belski. Chicago FBI.
I'm Agent... Bering and Lattimer.
What do you guys want with my robberies?
Hi, guys. Nice ties.
We would like access to any evidence,
witnesses or leads you might have.
Now that I'm in your face, you ask nicely. I made a call.
A bad shootout in Denver gets you shipped to D.C.,
where together, you almost lose the President.
Then you get exiled off the reservation into my town, humping my leg.
Nice leg.
Look, we're here to help.
I don't want it.
You two have a reputation for leaving disaster in your wake.
Your own agency doesn't even know why you're here.
Stay away from my investigation. Enjoy Chicago.
Try the pizza.
I'm in love.
Agent Belski will be more cooperative now.
Yeah? What'd that cost you?
A couple grand.
The director's a terrible poker player, so I chucked his debt.
You never did me that favor.
You never asked.
So, how you guys doing?
Well, the Warehouse keeps us busy.
Doing what exactly, Pete?
Well, if I say anything else, Mrs. Frederic will pop out
and go all scary face on me.
All right. Give my best to Myka. Stay safe.
Will do.
No, see this little guilt trip you're taking me on?
I don't do that anymore. Dad won't miss me.
When I was there he didn't know I was there, okay,
so just tell my mother to stop making you do her dirty work.
Dina, I gotta go. Working. Okay, bye.
Hey. Don't.
Wasn't. Good.
I mean, it's none of my business anyway, right?
But, you know, if my dad were alive, I'd go to see him.
So, where are we?
Well, Belski just got spanked.
So let's go strike while the butt is still hot.
All right, Mr. Whoever-You-Are,
trying to get into my computers,
you can run through proxy servers in Yinchuan,
but you cannot hide.
Oh, hey.
Aren't you arts and crafty?
You should see my balloon animals.
My agents won't like you destroying their hard work.
No. I'm enhancing it, okay?
There's a big difference between seeing something
and seeing something.
Yeah, well, we know three banks have been robbed
on three successive Fridays at rush hour.
And it is Friday. Six hours to rush hour.
By two suspects employing a takeover technique with no guns.
The banks just hand over the money.
Everyone's shy on the details.
Which is strange.
Tell me something I don't know.
Mary Queen of Scots' croquet mallet
was made from a petrified narwhal's horn.
She never lost a match.
Do you know how they're doing this?
Not yet.
I'm rankled. Okay? I'm officially rankled.
You had to go and call Dickinson to get access?
Just don't take it personally.
It's entirely professional. I'm just saying that you could have come to me,
and I could have got you whatever information that you need.
We needed access, Artie, not information.
Let me be clear, I'm your boss now, okay?
You hit a roadblock, you call me, I remove it. Not Daniel Dickinson.
Me. All your old contacts are off-limits. No exceptions.
Warehouse security demands it. Understood?
Yes. I got it.
So, can I have your attention now?
Show it to me. Show it to me.
Okay.
Yeah, okay, freeze.
What is inside that one's coat?
I don't know, a bomb or something?
Something scared these people stupid, Artie.
Well, do any of these tapes have sound?
No, no, they're all silent.
Why? It's per a federal wiretap law.
Lest we overhear an account number not party to investigative...
Blah, blah, blah...
All right. None of these witnesses recall any orders or demands from these robbers?
No. They don't recall anything.
It's kind of like they have short-term memory loss or something.
Well, you know, lights can do that.
Yeah, they can. You know, like, a strobe can do that.
Any kind of flashing... But nothing's flashing, Artie.
No, no, I'm talking about something at the edge of the visual spectrum.
Something, you know, between the video's interlaced frames.
You know, I had a case once where pollen from a prehistoric plant
turned a woman into a sexually rapacious sleepwalker,
and she was unaware that she was doing that until she pulled her pants off...
Artie, just be... Be quiet.
What? Artie, there's a man on his cell phone
during this entire robbery.
Do you see that? Oh, really?
Well, well, that's good.
Somebody overheard what was happening in there, right?
An ear-witness.
Artie, I need the other side of that phone call.
We have ways. Just get me phone guy's name.
I'm looking, Artie. Just give me a second.
I am gonna huff and puff and blow your house down.
Artie, I got him.
Me, too.
So, the guy on the phone was leaving a message on his wife's cell phone.
And Artie got his hands on it.
Don't ask me how. I don't know.
Nice catch. Thank you.
So. So.
What has Agent Belski done for you lately?
She sashays. Yeah.
A little bit. No.
She doesn't even know it.
Oh, yes, she does.
She does.
Laura, these are agents Bering and Lattimer. Laura was one of the tellers.
I already told you everything.
I don't remember anything else.
I can't remember anything else.
Just tell them what you told me. It's okay.
Yeah, yeah, please, sit down.
We just have a couple questions.
Laura, when the suspects robbed the bank, they played a sound.
Do you remember hearing anything?
No. Nothing.
Okay, we have a copy of a recording of a cell phone call
that occurred during the robbery,
and we're gonna play it for you,
so you just tell us what you think.
Whatever you can.
Ready?
I guess so.
Hey, Kelly, I made the deposit, so if you want to...
Oh, God. Oh, God, they're robbing the...
Laura?
Laura.
I think you should turn it off.
Hi.
Are you... Are you gonna play something?
Laura.
Hi. What's going on?
Nothing.
You feel okay?
I feel loved.
So she had a strong emotional reaction to the sounds on the tape?
Yeah, but we weren't affected.
See, what I'm thinking is that this is a limbic trigger.
Yeah, the sound rings a bell in the primal, the lizard part of the brain
that connects to the pleasure center, see?
Yeah, but we heard it too and my limbic's not triggered.
It's not even twitching, so...
Well, I would guess you'd have to hear it through the robbers' equipment.
But the bank teller heard it here. Yeah.
She heard it there for the second time,
so clearly there's a sense-memory component.
Okay, so what are we looking for, Artie?
Are we looking for souped-up speakers
or Thomas Edison's wax cylinder?
Thomas Edison's what? Ignore him.
Okay, I'm scrubbing the sound for the melody.
All composers leave a DNA, a chromatic DNA inside their compositions,
inside their music. That's why the Beatles sound like the Beatles.
That's why Copland sounds like Copland.
And this sounds like my dad's favorite song.
Whatever. What I'm doing here is I'm taking the sounds and editing them
through a total deconstruction algorithm.
Pete, what did you say?
What? No. I just... I said that it sounded like my dad's favorite song,
Center of My Soul by the Brick Tones. 1960-something.
My dad was just nuts for those guys.
Eric Marsden. Yeah. Yeah, that's him.
He also wrote... Angel's Kiss, A Night in My Arms.
Okay, are you saying that this is one of Marsden's songs?
Yeah, what, the bank robbery remix?
Give me a second. Give me one...
You know, I never heard of Eric Marsden.
That's because you were too busy dusting off
Shakespeare at your dad's bookstore.
When I was eight,
my dad took me to the Blue Note in New York to see Marsden.
He was into jazz then, experimental stuff.
That's exactly the same. I think this is his music.
This is his music.
Are you sure?
With a 98.7 probability.
I think this is a completely new score.
Or it's a very old composition
that's never been released until now.
You're looking for an original recording of this song.
Okay, start with Marsden. Well, where do we find him?
How about 12 miles south of the robberies?
What Is he playing somewhere?
Yeah, he lives there. 432 Argyle Street.
His music, local crime scenes...
I'd say this guy just hit the top of your suspect chart, so go. Go! Go!
Four hours to rush hour. You're driving.
Bingo.
And you're sure about this, too?
You found the person hacking into the Warehouse?
Yep.
The network intrusion came from Washington?
With a 98.3 probability.
Do you have a suspect?
Who's this? Pete and Myka's ex-boss.
Dickinson. Daniel Dickinson.
So the breach came from Secret Service?
If I'm right, and I'm right, directly from his office computer.
Artie, what are you gonna do?
Stop him.
Looks like somebody might have fallen on hard times, huh?
Hard enough to rob banks?
Just hold it right there.
Whatever it is you're selling, I am not interested.
We're with the government. We'd like to speak with Eric Marsden, please.
What for?
Suspicion of bank robbery.
You've gotta be kidding me.
When my voice went, I needed something to do.
I backed him up on over 50 records,
so I guess this ain't much different.
I've been his caretaker going on five years now.
Does he have any family?
Ex-wife. She got remarried.
Started a new family a long time ago.
What about children?
One kid. Haven't talked in years.
So will he talk to us?
Well, he's bipolar, clinically depressed and semi-catatonic.
Last month he was diagnosed with liver cancer, but, hey, go for it.
How much time does he have left?
Maybe a year.
You ask the questions. Not you, 'cause your timbre will bug him.
And cell phones off, no ringing, and sure as hell no vibrating,
or he's gonna start screaming.
So, get to it. It's almost lunch.
Mr. Marsden?
My name is Myka. This is my friend Pete.
We'd like to ask you a few questions.
We're looking into some trouble
that we think might be connected with something you wrote.
A song, possibly.
Sir?
You have a beautiful voice.
Someone once told me that I have the voice of a barmaid.
He doesn't hear you.
Eric, is there something you wrote that affects people?
Makes them happy?
I mean, I'm not explaining this very well.
Did you see it?
See what?
Everything.
Did you write that piece of music, Eric?
I want my grilled cheese now.
Eric went from pop to jazz to experimental to just plain weird.
You know, he lived in the studio,
writing and mixing and playing thousands of hours of music.
He said he was looking for the key.
The key to what?
I don't know. The human heart, peace, something.
So, where's his music now? Stolen.
Ask me, that's what broke him.
Stolen how?
Ever heard of Jeff Canning?
Windy Lake Records.
That's him.
So, what happened?
What always happens when an artist meets a conman.
One of them gets rich and the other one loses an ear.
Eric didn't care about the money.
Canning stole his music rights in a terrible deal.
Eric was never the same after that.
And now Canning is sitting on everything.
So, if you're looking for a criminal, talk to Mr. Canning.
Is that it?
And thanks for playing the piano.
He hasn't touched it in years, but I always keep it tuned.
It's good to hear it again.
I didn't know you played.
I had a crush on my piano teacher.
I used to love going to lessons.
Let's go see Mr. Canning, shall we?
Hey, so was that your dad who said you sounded like a barmaid?
Drop it, Pete.
It's hard to when you're on the phone every 30 minutes.
Okay, look, my family is having a party next week, okay?
Are you satisfied?
Myka, the world will survive without you for a day, okay?
Go be with your family.
You make it sound so cozy.
What's the problem?
You ever see that movie The Great Santini?
With the tough dad and the scared kids?
It's like that, huh?
Yeah, except it wasn't over in two hours.
Windy Lake Records, this is Stephanie. Todd, hi.
The boss was wondering if you'd mailed his all-access pass this year.
Yeah, well, is there any way that we could...
Okay. Well, I guess we'll just wait for your call, then. Thanks.
So, it looks like the boss man fell off the rich and powerful list.
You get that from ogling the help?
The offices near the elevator are empty.
The magazines are three months old.
Well, money's tight all over.
Except the banks in Chicago are just giving it away, right?
Any idea which one might be next?
I'm working on it, but if there's a link, I'm not seeing it yet.
Hi, I'm Jeff Canning.
Hey, Jeff. Agent Pete Lattimer.
Agent Bering.
And what can I do for the government today?
Well, I have a few questions about an artist you represent.
I made a lot of deals over the years. Bought and sold libraries.
But ultimately my job is to get the music out there.
What about Eric Marsden's music?
He isn't selling these days. Kind of fallen out of fashion.
But I do have an offer on the table to buy his stuff.
Of course, if you want to better it, it's yours.
Who wants it?
An anonymous buyer.
I suspect it's a collector in Japan. They love the bubble gum.
This is Eric. All his hits, his misfires, work-for-hire stuff.
What's this?
Experimental self-indulgence that will probably never see the light of day.
And why is that?
Costs more to market than you could ever get in return.
For this I blame Jed Fissel.
Jed Fissel?
Eric's engineer. He bought into Eric's search
for a new sound that people needed to hear.
New Age crap.
They spent way too much of my money looking for it.
Most of it sounds like bricks in a blender.
Uh-oh.
Oh, no.
Where's...
So, where's Fissel now?
Last I heard, he was driving a cab downtown,
but that was years ago. Look, what's this all about?
Well, somebody's robbing banks in Chicago,
and we think that something that Marsden wrote might be involved.
Anyone can find his stuff in flea markets,
resale shops, peer-to-peer networks.
No, it's something unreleased,
something the public has never heard until now.
Not possible.
Everything is right here, and I've got the only key.
Mr. Canning, your lunch date's here, and I forwarded the phone.
Thank you, Stephanie, you can take off.
Half-days?
No secret. The industry's going through a few changes.
Save a penny, earn a penny.
The FBI has company. Secret Service is on us now.
Why?
Doesn't matter. How's the money?
Laundered and ready to go. You give the word and everything happens.
What's with the getup? We're gonna need more.
The situation's changed.
Let's go.
Jed Fissel, Eric Marsden's recording engineer.
Last known address, Fultondale, Alabama.
Been off the grid for six months.
Dead? Unknown.
There's a pattern. We're missing something that we're not seeing.
Fridays, rush hour...
No, besides that.
Why these banks? These branches?
And they're all over the city.
Ooh, FBI.
Lattimer.
I've got some pissed off agents here
who want to take away your scissor privileges.
Oh, if I had a nickel...
Look, you gave us the sound thing, so I'm returning the favor.
We're setting up at Midwesterner Bank on Grand.
Based on what?
Just going over the rush hour traffic patterns around the other banks.
Those streets are jammed except for a few specific, not well-known routes.
This bank fits the bill.
This crew knows the way in and out of these areas like no one else.
Except maybe cab drivers.
Ask her about Jed Fissel.
Jed Fissel. Wait.
The FBI is staking out the Midwesterner on Grand, okay?
Belski has a vibe. Do you?
No. Then I say they're wrong. We're on this.
Well... But what if it goes down and we're not there?
Fine. Go, play footsy with the FBI.
Pete. What?
Leave the Farnsworth.
Okay. Call me if you get something.
Hi, Mom.
Well, I'm sorry he's canceling it,
but don't make this my fault, okay?
It's okay. I got it.
Myka, are you there?
Finally.
For crying out...
Yeah? You know how when
you sing in the shower and it bounces off the tiles and you sound spectacular?
No, I never sound spectacular. What are you talking about?
The banks are all like that, Artie. They're all marble and stone,
and this music is knocking people sideways because it...
It resonates inside the banks.
Like mad.
Oh. So something in the source material is...
Amplified by the banks' designs.
Okay, I need you to compare all the architecture and interior dimensions
of Fidelity Mutual against all the banks in the Chicago area
that haven't been robbed.
Yet. Yes.
What about Marsden? Is he still a suspect?
No, he's dying of cancer, but his sound engineer, Jed Fissel,
the guy who actually made the recording, is unaccounted for.
Hold the line, please.
Forget something?
Who the...
What was that?
Kodak moment. Okay.
The number of unrobbed banks that fit the acoustic profile
of the already robbed banks. Is that what you're looking for?
Yes.
It is exactly two.
Two. Great. Where?
It'll be okay, Stevie.
What is it you do exactly? Part of the Homeland Security thing?
I can't tell you what I do exactly.
How does someone get invited to your party?
Well, you don't get invited, you get shoved.
How long have you and Bering been partners?
Not long.
She's wound pretty tight.
Yes, she is.
Her history doesn't bother you? Denver?
She did her best.
And the agent who died in the shootout, Sam Martino, there's a scuttlebutt.
Apparently Martino and your partner were having an affair and he was married.
Separated, but still...
Lattimer. Myka nailed it.
The targeted banks have the same acoustic profile, all right?
And I should have figured that out and I didn't.
Artie, Artie, where is she?
Federal agent! Stop!
What happened? Marble and stone and big high ceilings.
That's what the music needs to work.
Want to ask the recording engineer?
Jed Fissel, meet the FBI.
If you ask nicely, he might give you the other two.
Lock it up. I need video, I need tech out here right now.
It's a gray van, no windows, no plates,
and the right rear tire is bald.
They're using a record player. Like a Close 'N Play.
So there's a record.
Possibly in a silver case. I got hit with it.
There's three suspects including Fissel. One was a woman.
Are you sure? Yeah.
I felt her.
Did you touch her boobies?
Yeah, like that hurt.
...hell are you?
My name?
Doesn't matter. But I think you know who I represent.
Flash Gordon?
You know, I did a lot of work.
A lot of research. I traced packets from network systems
all over the world until I finally figured out it was that computer.
Your computer right over there
that initiated a security breach into my business.
Why'd you do it? What do you want?
All right, you listen to me, whoever you are.
If you're gonna kill me or whatever that thing does, do it.
If you're going to talk about things that make no sense,
then get the hell out of my office.
I know that you did it.
Warehouse 13. I got hacked!
Buddy, you got punked. I didn't hack you.
Hey, look, I screwed up, okay? I'm sorry you got hit.
Don't worry about it. Let's just get Fissel talking,
find this record and go home. All right?
Myka. Yeah?
Do you still have those ear plugs? Yeah.
Put them in.
Myka, watch out!
FBI, stop!
See, whoever did this mirrored these 12 proxies
and ran the breach through here.
I didn't see that.
Well, I bet there's an entire floor of analysts at the NSA
that would have missed it, too. Well...
I mean, you traced it this far. Yeah.
The rest should be easy. Let me work it from here.
Let you... No... No.
What I need is 30 minutes alone with this terminal.
Not possible.
Don't ask.
Yeah?
Artie, I need you to find my cell phone.
I am not your personal cell phone locator, okay?
No, we just lost a suspect. They hit us with the music and took him.
Are you okay? And is Pete okay?
I'm fine. Pete's still...
A little affected by the music.
He's making a love connection.
He's... He's making a what?
Look, I managed to get my cell phone into one of their pockets.
Find it and tell us where we need to go.
Okay, I'll get back to you as soon as I can, all right?
So how are they doing?
You know, they're...
Mostly they're a pain in my ass.
So am I. I'm not leaving.
This is Warehouse 13.
This is my office.
If you want to use my computer to poke around your problem, I'm staying.
Got your 30 minutes. I suggest you not waste it.
Yeah.
Could you at least avert your eyes, all right? I mean, occasionally.
Okay. All right. Thank you.
Don't you want to find Myka's cell phone?
Oh, right, I...
Belski doesn't seem too bothered by the fact
that her case just kicked her in the ass.
Huh?
Artie's tracing my phone.
What are you doing?
I like your perfume.
I'm not wearing perfume.
Well, whatever you're wearing, I love it.
Stephanie.
Canning's assistant.
Hot damn.
I found your cell phone.
Is it there? No.
Where's Jed? And Stephanie?
It was never about the money.
Where's the record?
It was never about the money.
She missed her father.
She had to bring him home.
Canning said he had a buyer.
An anonymous buyer.
His daughter.
Everything fell apart. He couldn't write anymore.
He lost his music. He lost his daughter.
There was nothing left for him to hold on to, so he let go.
We have to call the FBI.
Why?
Why not?
The bank robberies, they're not our problem.
That is our problem.
Belski will find them.
Maybe.
But maybe not.
I...
I gotta take this.
Hi, Mom.
Yeah.
Can I talk to Dad?
You're putting that back together, right?
Uh, yeah.
You know, good as new.
Okay, Mr. Knock-knock,
I'm gonna open a door and see who you are.
You have to stop her.
Hello?
You've got to...
Who's there? Got to stop... Got to stop her!
Someone's there. I can...
What the hell was that?
You okay?
Who, me? Sure. You know, just a little shock.