All right, everyone settle. Notebooks out.
We're gonna start with three sentences,
at least one noun and one verb in each one.
In English.
Martina, why don't you go first?
Three things you saw on your way to class today.
I saw... a man,
- pedaling his bicycle. - "Pedaling. " Good, good.
And then I saw my friend Claus kiss Katrina Wolfe.
And then I saw Katrina slap Claus's face.
It's true. Katrina hates Claus.
Anna, please turn your phone off.
Your phone. Turn it off.
It wasn't ringing.
Martina, take over class.
Mrs. Cahill?
Het is Grappig.
Begrijpt u?
Vertel hen het is Grappig.
Bobby Orr moves in for the shot.
- Don't laugh at me. - I wouldn't dream of it.
Let me get your stick.
All right. Let her rip.
Here.
Use a little more wrist. Just put a little more snap in it. Like this.
What position did you play?
I was defense. High-school coach moved me up to center.
You were a chick magnet, right?
Actually, my first face-off I ever took as a center, I got knocked right on my ass.
The other team's center was, like, this 15-year-old, six-foot-two, bearded...
Actually, probably on steroids, now that I think about it.
Finally, there was 12 seconds left, we were down by a goal.
I had my teeth kicked in so many times, I said, "You know what? Screw it. "
I just stopped caring. I won the draw, skated around him, moved in for the shot...
- You tied the game? - I hit the post.
But I did learn something about how we can let fear get in the way.
Syd, I know you wanna take things slow, but what are you afraid of?
Her name is Nancy Cahill. An operative at Langley's Narcotics Task Force.
Specializing in the development of new synthetics.
She's been stationed in Europe for the past three years.
Her cover: Associate professor at Amsterdam University.
She shot herself 36 hours ago.
Eyewitness report, a student from Cahill's class.
Her last words, "Vertel hen het is Grappig. " "Tell them it's funny. "
Cahill's most recent psych eval reported nothing of note.
Her mental status reviews have been exemplary.
- What's our assignment? - Cahill's husband, Jason, also an agent,
has gone off the grid.
Hasn't been in touch with his handler in three weeks.
All attempts to contact him after his wife's death have been unsuccessful.
Our objective is quite simple: Locate Jason Cahill.
So, Dixon, you take Weiss. Retrace Nancy Cahill's final days.
Vaughn, you and Nadia do the same for Jason Cahill.
Sydney, Jack, Cahill's Amsterdam apartment. Standard protocol.
Recover all files, classified computers, any evidence of CIA affiliation.
Any questions?
No bulbs.
Good news, Agent Bristow.
Your blood work's negative and your scans are clean.
May I?
Looks fine.
My little brother did the same thing to me once, bit me like this.
Perhaps you can tell us now what you were looking for in the CAT scan.
The Cahills came in contact with a drug that affected the nervous system.
The pineal gland was about twice the normal size.
Nancy Cahill's autopsy revealed the same condition.
- Which indicates what? - By itself, nothing.
The pineal converts melatonin,
which regulates sleep cycles and body temperature.
However, acute melatonin imbalance
has been known to induce uncharacteristic behavior.
- Even acts of extreme violence. - The writing in Cahill's closet,
it seemed like he was suffering from severe paranoia.
- Seeing demons. - I know.
I initially assumed we were dealing with a psychotropic,
but hallucinogens have particular biochemical markers,
none of which were present here.
No matter what drug Jason Cahill may have been exposed to,
he couldn't have transmitted it to Sydney by biting her.
So why the CAT scan?
The Cahills dealt with emerging drugs.
I wanted to take every precaution.
But all of our diagnostics indicate that you're fine. Do you feel OK?
Fine.
Langley wants to know what substance the Cahills came in contact with.
Who's manufacturing it. What it's being used for.
So, what do we know?
Neither Cahill traveled outside Amsterdam in the past month.
In her last days, Nancy placed twice her usual amount of phone calls.
They were routed through anonymous relays. It's standard deep-cover protocol.
Well, if you give me the routing numbers, I'll see if I can hack a back trace.
Now, as far as Cahill's laptop, her hard drive was erased,
but it's possible the files weren't completely rewritten.
I'll see if I can reconstruct them.
What do we know about these?
Jason Cahill was analyzing data - names, dates, links between sources.
He was looking for something - maybe his mind.
This guy was a little crazy. His wife actually locked him in this closet.
Sydney's fine. Just exhausted. She hasn't slept in 36 hours, so I'm sending her home.
- Yes, of course. - Excuse me.
You think it's sexy, don't you?
Only if I'd done it.
Need a ride home?
No, thanks. I was freaked out, but now I'm just tired.
Good night.
It's not that big of a deal.
- He still thinks that's funny. - You're incredible.
Thanks.
I hope we didn't wake you up.
- How are you doing? - I'm fine.
I had a headache. I couldn't sleep. I'm fine.
Have you... learned anything new?
Well, let me just say: Cahill's papers.
Just thinking about them makes my head hurt.
Marshall says he's making some progress with Cahill's hard disk.
He thinks he may be able to retrieve the data.
What?
- Are you... - What? Staying over?
No.
- Unless I am. Am I? - You're not.
- I'm not. - I'll walk you out.
She's gonna walk me out. She almost said yes. You saw that, right?
- This close. I was... Good night. - Good night.
Sorry. You're here early.
I couldn't sleep.
What do you think about this? Was Jason Cahill just delusional?
We're assuming the Cahills realized they were affected
by something they came in contact with.
Probably a drug from one of their sources,
but which source, which drug, they didn't know.
Looks like they were retracing their steps trying to figure it out.
Maybe looking for an antidote.
I thought I was losing my mind. The hard disk was wiped clean, remember?
But the data recovery wasn't a problem. The files were fragmented.
What's on the disk?
The mother lode: Cahill's travel itineraries, dead drop protocols,
- routing numbers for discretionary funds. - What's pressing for now,
according to their records, Jason Cahill has a meeting scheduled for Bucharest.
His contact is known to him as "the Count. "
"The Count"? You gotta be kidding me.
The Count is mentioned several times in Cahill's papers.
He seems to be one of their sources. He supplies them with samples of new drugs.
Now, here is a photo. I retrieved it from one of Cahill's disks.
Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the Count.
The meeting is tomorrow night. Obviously Cahill won't attend, but we will.
Sydney, you will identify yourself as an associate of Jason.
You will lead him into a conversation and find out what drugs he'd acquired for them.
- It's a mistake. - I beg your pardon?
Sending Sydney back into the field so quickly. It's a tactical error.
- No, it's... - Sydney, someone else can do this.
I'm fine.
That's it.
Well, you know, based on my limited experience with mind-altering drugs,
this one must have been a doozie.
Theoretically, could the drug's effects have a delayed reaction?
Well, there is that half-hour or so for it to kick in.
That's not what I mean. I mean, like a while. A day or two.
I'm not sure. Hold on a sec. It's my wife.
Hey, honey. I'll look into it, OK?
Sure. Put him on.
Daddy loves you. Yes, he does.
Scans of Cahill's papers. His references to the Count.
Thank you.
Another headache?
- I've got some aspirin. You want it? - No, thanks.
This is gonna sound crazy.
After you got home last night, I took my temperature.
It was 111.
- Syd, that's not possible. - I know. I must have been dreaming, right?
You told Dr. Jain?
Everything was back to normal this morning. All my tests came back negative.
You have to let them know.
But you just said it yourself: It's not possible.
It's not. But still, you have to.
If I tell them, they'll sideline me for who knows how long.
- If you don't tell them, I will. - Nadia, I'm fine.
I shouldn't have said anything.
Plane's waiting.
What's going on here? Girl stuff?
People stuff.
Be safe.
- You wanted to see me? - Yes. Please...
You know, Marcus, I appreciate your friendship with Sydney.
Having said that, whether or not an agent is fit for duty is my decision.
We both know Sydney has a history
of putting her work ahead of her own well-being.
- I was just suggesting that someone else... - Dixon.
In the 11 years that you worked for me at SD-6,
I came to recognize your brilliance as a field agent.
But during those 11 years,
not once did you suspect that you were working for a renegade organization.
What are you suggesting?
That somehow my loyalty is a liability?
I'm suggesting that you do your job
and that I do mine.
11:30. We should move. Sydney, when we find the Count,
you'll approach him and see what he knows.
If he gets suspicious, the abort code is "takedown. "
Once we're inside the club, you'll take point, I'll cover the back.
Sydney.
The tea was hotter than I expected.
Give me a minute to change.
I want one of us to have line of sight on her at all times.
- Do you see him? - Negative.
He's at the front bar.
I'm on my way.
Jason Cahill.
Is good. Is good you come, but...
not safe to talk in the open.
At end of hall is balcony.
Count to ten, meet me there.
- He could run. I'm not gonna wait. - I agree. Go.
Who are you? Why did Jason not come?
He's sick. He sent me to talk to you for him.
- He's sick? He's sick how? - Listen. He wanted me to tell you...
- You're lying. Who are you? - I'm not lying.
- Turn around. - Look, I just...
I said turn around. Turn around!
Cahill is dead. His wife is, too.
Who are you? You're police?
I don't know what they told you, but they're dead because...
No, you lie again.
They were affected by a drug. I'm trying to find out what that is.
You know what that drug is. Tell me what it is.
We're under fire. Takedown. Takedown.
- You all right? - Your arm.
I'm OK. Let's get him outta here.
- We know who you are. Andre Sterescu. - Nice. Is good pronunciation.
We know you're a Romanian national, 32 years old,
charged twice with possession of black-market electronics.
We know you were convicted three years ago for fencing stolen pharmaceuticals.
- Yes. I wanted to appeal this one. - Tell us what you know about this man.
I will only say, if you choose not to cooperate with us,
you'll regret that decision for the rest of your life.
- Who are you guys? - Just answer the question.
He told me he was chemist.
Worked for pharmaceutical company.
He hired me to be his "spy. " Keep eye on competition.
In a sense that's true, but in fact, you were spying on behalf of the US government.
- Who called the meet? You or Cahill? - He did.
- Why? - I don't know.
You performed other jobs for him.
Start with the most recent.
I need this... How do you say this? This... pen?
Marshall.
Hey, Syd, guess what. Your idea? Well, you were right.
What idea?
The incubation period. Turns out I did some research,
and the Germans and the Czechs - well, not all the Germans, just the chemists -
they've been toying around with some designer analogs
that cross the blood-brain barrier via pathogens.
So, in other words, this drug works like a virus.
It gets in your blood, it incubates for a few days,
it infects you, and then permanently alters your brain. Weird.
Anyway, I called Dr. Jain, and he's gonna culture Cahill's blood
and make sure that's not what we're dealing with, OK?
Syd, this isn't about you? You're feeling OK, right?
- Thank you, Marshall. - No problem. It's what I'm here for.
"Nocturne. " Two weeks ago, you delivered a sample to Cahill. Tell me about it.
Comes in vial like this. Cahill says is like speed, only better.
What do you mean, like speed?
You take, you don't sleep.
Except not... Just energy. But no need to rest.
You failed to include where it came from.
Yes, because I don't know.
Cahill says Nocturne developed in Eastern bloc.
But I find no evidence of this.
So I ask an associate one week later, he bring me sample of Nocturne.
He didn't say where he got the Nocturne?
Policy. I don't ask.
Is too bad for you.
Because you are dying too.
You all right?
It seems that Nocturne incorporates a stimulant
which overrides the pineal gland.
There was intel a few years ago
that the North Koreans were working on an experimental project just like this one,
trying to create 24-hour soldiers.
And there have been others, all failures,
because no one fully understood the true biochemical nature of dreaming.
So the Cahills' delusions were forms of dreams?
Nightmares, yes, in a matter of speaking.
The problem being with these dreams: Once triggered, there's no waking up.
Sydney, you listening?
It's working, isn't it?
Bit by bit, I'm wearing down your defenses.
I'm gaining your trust.
But we both know at some point I'll betray you.
And the people you care most deeply about,
they'll die.
Syd. You OK?
You weren't surprised when I told you Cahill had died from Nocturne.
You weren't surprised. Why weren't you surprised?
- I don't know what you mean. - What aren't you telling me?
- I'm telling you everything. - Do not lie to me.
I'm one of them. Do you hear me, you son of a bitch?
Cahill bit me.
I know is bad.
And this why I was to meet Cahill.
I contact him to tell him.
I don't find Nocturne. At least, not what they make today.
- So, what did you give Cahill? - Old sample.
It was meant to be destroyed. This drug, it go right through skin.
- And he didn't know this. - I need money.
I lie to him. I'm sorry.
From where? Where did it come from?
I don't know. I don't know. Is somewhere in Prague. I... I don't know.
I'm sorry.
I'm very sorry.
What's the last thing Nancy Cahill said to that witness? "Vertel hen het is Grappig. "
"Tell them it's funny"? That's gotta mean something else.
"The Grappig Group, Prague. Loose affiliation of biochemical engineers. "
Milan Latuza, Grappig's senior chemist.
"Specializes in synthesis and isolation of novel therapeutics. "
Nancy Cahill had found where Nocturne originated,
only she was too far gone to do anything about it.
Jack, I know this isn't what you want to hear,
but even if we could recover a sample,
we don't have time to engineer an antidote.
Sydney needs medical attention.
Unless Latuza's already taken that step for us.
If they realized they made a bad batch of Nocturne,
it's possible they manufactured a remedy.
Contact the jet. We're going to Prague.
Once you've accessed Latuza's database,
any files that may be even remotely related to Nocturne -
research, test results, formulas...
I'll grab what I can. What if I don't find anything?
Let's not discuss that here.
Sydney's about as trustworthy as her mother.
I know.
- I'm gonna kill her, just like I did Irina. - Good.
Latuza's office is on the sixth floor. You'll need to get a key.
What is it?
Dad...
Do we have any tranquilizers?
No.
Then I think you'd better tie me up.
All right, I'm in. Headed upstairs.
- I'm gonna be all right, aren't I? - Of course you are.
What if we can't make it stop?
Don't talk.
You can't imagine how much I hate it when you talk.
- What? - The reason I killed your mother,
I had a desperate need to make her voice stop ringing in my ears.
What torments me now is that, every time I look at you,
- I see your mother's face. - No.
That's...
That's not true. That's not...
Sydney, listen to me. This is all going to pass.
All right, I'm on the sixth floor. How is she?
We're OK. Just get to the lab and find the damn antidote.
Sydney, look at me. Breathe, in and out. That's right.
That's right. Just breathe. Good.
Now, look in my eyes.
- They're the last thing you'll ever see. - No.
Sydney, I'm here with you.
Sydney, look at me. Breathe.
Your mother killed me.
- Just like I'm gonna kill you. - I won't let you.
How are you gonna stop me? You're tied up.
Sydney, I'm here with you. No one is going to harm you.
I won't let anything happen to you.
- Daddy. - I'm here, Sydney.
- Will you hug me? - Of course I will.
It's OK.
Sydney, no!
Jack, can you hear me?
Jack, what is it? What's happening?
I've got the antidote. I'm on my way.
Help!
Help! Anybody!
Help!
My father. I think...
- Sydney, what did you do? - I think I killed him.
What are you doing?
Get...
Get down. On your knees.
Sydney, it's Michael.
I've got the antidote. It's right here in this bag.
Don't lie to me.
Sydney. Sydney, listen to me.
Put your hands up. Now.
I know what this is.
This is a game to you.
A cruel joke at my expense.
- What's a game? - You and me.
Admit it.
No, Sydney. Sydney, listen to me.
- What are you scared of? - I am scared.
I'm scared you're gonna betray me - again.
Like you did when you married Lauren.
Sydney, I would never, ever hurt you.
Stop. Stop right there.
- You need to give me the gun, all right? - I said stop.
Just give me the gun.
Sydney, don't do this.
Agh!
- You took the bullets out. - It seemed a reasonable precaution.
Preliminary report from Medical Services. Sydney will be fine.
For that, I know we're all deeply grateful.
Furthermore, Interpol has raided both the office and laboratory of Dr. Milan Latuza.
The Nocturne program has been dismantled.
That threat is now over.
That's it.
Dixon.
Sending Sydney out...
A tactical error, indeed.
I'd have said this earlier, but when I get done,
it's likely you'll have me relieved of my position,
and I didn't want that to happen while Sydney was in the field.
I've asked myself countless times
why I never saw the true nature of SD-6.
For a while, I punished myself over it.
Finally, I realized...
my only failure was that of imagination.
Despite all the evil I'd encountered,
I'd never imagined a person could exist...
someone as thoroughly toxic as yourself.
I won't make that mistake again.
You want us to believe you've reformed.
That, for the love of your daughter,
you've decided to listen to the better angels of your nature.
Arvin, let's be honest.
You don't have any.
And on that inevitable day,
when your true motive reveals itself,
I promise you...
I'll be there.
I'll be waiting.
Vaughn, what I said to you... what I did...
Syd, you weren't yourself.
No.
My father liked spiders. He said they were good luck.
- I've never heard that. - No?
Get some rest.
I'll see you tomorrow.