Alias 4x19 In Dreams

ÀÚ¸·Á¦ÀÛ - ³×ÀÌÆ® µå¶ó¸¶ 24 ÀÚ¸·ÆÀ
(http://club.nate.com/24)

 

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(http://club.nate.com/24)

 

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ÀåÁ¤¿ø (cheesecake@empal.com)

 

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ALIAS 4x19
In Dreams

Original Air Date : May 11, 2005

 

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Á¦ÀÛÁö¿ø : Jake
(http://club.nate.com/24)

 

ÀÚ¸·½ÌÅ© / Çѱ۹ø¿ª / ÃÖÁ¾¼öÁ¤ :
ÀåÁ¤¿ø (cheesecake@empal.com)

 

Mr. Sloane,

 

welcome to Mount Inferno monastery
of the vespertine order.

Thank you.

You will forgive us
our cautions.

 

Of course.

 

Hunting season?

 

Come. Father Kampinski is waiting.

 

- Mr. Sloane.
- Father Kampinski.

 

Thank you for agreeing
to meet with me.

 

What can I do for you, Mr. Sloane?

Our institute is mandated to develop
measures to counter terrorism.

We have, of course, heard about
the work you've done here,

and, you know,
wanted to perhaps --

Our bees are not for sale.

Well, of course they're not.

What we wanted was your...
knowledge,

not your insects, per se.

 

I understand you've bred
the aggression out of them.

This is not strictly true.

The aggression is there.

The need for it,
happily, is not.

Come, Mr. Sloane.
I'll show you.

 

The truth is, these bees have
an exceptionally venomous sting.

They're very hard to antagonize.

They choose productivity over aggression.
Aggression is a distraction,

which is why we're able
to work among the apiaries

without the traditional
protective garments.

Remarkable.

There is so very much we can learn
from these exquisite beings.

 

Fascinating.

They're imbued
with a kind of grace --

unlike so many humans.

And you've achieved
that grace? How?

At Monte Inferno,

we're dedicated to the --

the marriage of supposed opposites,

amongst them man and his science,
God and his miracles

coming together for the profit of all.

Just think about it.

The right blend of
genetic engineering,

dietetic supplements,
behavior modification, and --

You could create
a new species.

Oh, no. No, my son.
Merely a better bee.

One closer
to God's grand design.

 

We even have the ability to
control their body temperatures,

makes the bees work harder,
longer, more in synch --

all for the common good.

 

Extraordinary.
Paphiopedilum khan.

The rarest of lady slipper orchid species,
generally thought to be extinct.

 

Not exactly.
A close cousin.

No. This is the genuine article.

 

Brought here to Italy from China
by Marco Polo in 1269,

a gift from Kubla Khan.

And what do you want?

If I might,

 

I'd like to spend
a little time here,

examine your historical papers,

take a cutting of your orchid.

 

A cutting? Ha ha ha.

For $50 million deposited immediately
to your accounts in Vanuatu and Samoa.

 

Yes, it's true, I have a little
put away for a rainy day.

The fact is, I'm uninterested
in money.

I'm a man of God,
not a merchant.

 

In my experience, father,

 

the two are hard
mutually exclusive.

 

I'm so sorry you came
all this way for nothing.

No.

 

I'm the one who's sorry.

 

I'm coming home.

 

Plan "B."

 

Please... help me.

Certainly.

Anti-venom.

Enough to give you
a shot at actually surviving.

But first -- the Rambaldi orchid formulas

which you used on your bees.

 

You go to hell.

 

You first.

 

- Now keep both arms up like this.
- Yes, I know, I know.

You tell me every day,
thank you.

 

They treat you like an idiot.

Keep 'em up, dad.
It's for your own good.

Dr. Liddell said you have to follow procedure
to the letter if you want to make a full recovery.

 

I never thanked you
for what you did --

helping to find Liddell.

 

You don't have to.

 

That other charade --

you pretending to be your mother --
whose idea was that?

Sloane's.

 

You were living in 1981.
You were delusional.

It was the only way we could get you
to reveal Liddell's whereabouts.

 

You told her, dad.

 

You told mom
you were a CIA agent.

You broke protocol.

That's how she stole
agency secrets.

 

I'm putting these down now.

You also said you were thinking
about resigning from the CIA.

 

You would have, right, dad,
if she hadn't left?

 

I didn't like being away
all the time...

 

not being a part of your life.

 

You're part of it now.

 

They're ready
for the briefing.

Thank you.
We're coming.

 

Yesterday a rare orchid was stolen from
the Monte Inferno monastery in Umbria.

45 monks were killed
to obtain it.

Satellite photos confirm it's the same man
we encountered in Santiago,

 

the man who claims
to be me.

Details are in your briefing folders.

What's so special
about this orchid?

It has chemical properties which
heighten the receptivity in the neural pathways...

we think -- we assume.
Well, we don't know, really.

It's just that nobody in the scientific
community has laid eyes on it for centuries.

 

We have been asked
to recover it.

Find the impostor.
Get the orchid.

 

I want a plan
on my desk by 2200.

That's it.

 

Arvin...

 

a word.

 

Of course.

 

You said it was harmless,
this could never happen.

I didn't know it could.

I never imagined the effects of
the orchid could be reversed.

No. But somebody did.

 

Let's not overreact, Jack.

What we saw -- the effect
of the Mueller device --

was a demonstration on insects,
not on humans.

We are staring at the potential
for global disaster,

in no small part because
of what you've put in place.

Don't you think I realize
the responsibility I bear?

 

We need to find the orchid, Jack,

not waste time arguing over
what we can't change.

72 hours.

If we haven't recovered
the orchid in that time,

I'm going to Langley with this.

 

It'll mean the end of you, Arvin.

You too, Jack.

 

I know.

 

72 hours.

 

Jennifer Garner (as Sydney Bristow)

Ron Rifkin (as Arvin Sloane)

Michael Vartan (as Michael Vaughn)

Carl Lumbly (as Marcus Dixon)

Kevin Weisman (as Marshall J. Flinkman)

Mia Maestro (as Nadia Santos)

Greg Grunberg (as Eric Weiss)

Victor Garber (as Jack Bristow)

 

ALIAS 4x19
In Dreams...

Original Air Date : May 11, 2005

 

The italian police dead-ended
on both vehicles.

Satellite surveillance was a bust.

 

Echelon's bone-dry.

Apparently our Sloane Clone
has vanished into the ether.

- Then we're back to square one.
- Not exactly.

If we can't find him,
we'll make him find us.

The vespertine papers --

Rambaldi text that refer
to our stolen orchid.

Rumor is they were destroyed
during World War II.

You want to bring them
out of hiding?

Leak dummy intel that they were found
in father Kampinski's personal belongings.

We can get the DSR to loan
us some documents.

Set it up as an auction.

I have a contact at the
Paris antiquities house.

 

Paris

 

Smile and look
like a lot of money.

- Dollars or Euros?
- Euros, definitely.

 

Mark Mullins from
the Carolina institute.

Ah, yes.

Thank you.

 

Evergreen, you are on the air.

Uplinking to A.P.O.

I'd love to be there.

It's too risky.
The impostor's seen you before.

- I know. Just --
- Nadia will do fine.

Let's hope so.

 

Sold, for 5 million euros to the man
in the gray flannel suit.

Our next item -- lot 47 --
is a last-minute addition.

The vespertine papers.

All interested bidders should take
a few moments to examine the documents.

Look, but, please,
do not touch.

 

Let's see who takes the bait.

 

Identity?

Toshiro Takenada. Wealthy
Rambaldi collector from Kyoto.

 

Efraim Dousseau Ngumbe.

Dilettante, far more money
than vision.

 

Remarkable.

 

I've never seen her before.

Evergreen, get a look
at her name tag.

 

Pamela McNabb,
Stanwyck institute.

- Yowza.
- Easy.

What? We can't appreciate
beautiful things?

No, you're right.
Watch tv, can't touch the knobs.

 

It's a dummy corp.
McNabb's a phoney.

We will start the bidding
at 2 million euros.

I have 2 million.
Do I hear 2.5?

 

2.5.
Do I have 3 million?

4 million?

 

6 million?

 

9 million?

 

10 million?

- The girl stopped bidding.
- Something went wrong.

- Merlin, McNabb's cell phone.
- I'm all over it.

 

Scanning to get a GSM source.

Her conversation's encrypted.

11.5?

 

McNabb's on the move.

- Stop the woman.
- Copy that.

 

12 million?

Suppose she's not
working for your impostor.

- No, it's her.
- Then why's she leaving?

I would only stop bidding

if I was certain that I could recover
the papers through some other means.

 

13 million?

 

She's a decoy.
Outrigger, check the papers.

Copy that.

 

Evergreen, forget about her.
The papers are gone. Out the back.

 

Marcus. What a surprise.

 

We got him.

Good work.
Bring him home.

 

We'll make him tell us
where the orchid is.

 

Jack.

 

Of course.
I should have known.

You know me?

What kind of question is that?
Of course I know you.

And me?

- What about you?
- Do you know me?

No.

I am Arvin Sloane.

 

I see.

This is your idea, Jack --
play with my sense of reality.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I've never met you.

It's not going to work.

 

Okay.

Shall we state this
for the record?

I am Arvin Sloane.

 

Posing as Arvin Sloane,

you recently stole a rare orchid
from the Monte Inferno monastery.

Your masquerade is over.
You've been caught.

What happens next?
You deprive me of food?

Try to alter my sense of time?

Childish attempts to
break me down.

You, Jack, of all people,
should know that.

Who are you?

Who am I?

 

1985.

Belize.

For 72 hours, we were stuck in a
safe house questioning a revolutionary.

And after you cut off --

 

how many fingers was it? --

Eight...

 

He told us
what we wanted.

Only you and I know that.

You left it off the
after-action report.

How desperate the company must
be to play this pitiable mind game.

Think you could call this... actor,

this -- this clown Arvin Sloane and
make me doubt my own identity?

Tell me, how do you account for the fact
that in the recent past, this man

created and ran an international
relief agency called OMNIFAM?

The world knows his face
as Arvin Sloane.

He's a CIA stooge with my
good looks, and I can prove it.

The affair in Santiago --

I noticed that both Marcus Dixon and
Sydney Bristow were in on that mission.

It beggars reason to believe
that these same two agents

would ever agree to work for the man
who killed their loved ones.

What's the most logical scenario?

That I'm the impostor...

 

or that you are?

 

This is weird.

Unless you have something
better to offer,

either start cutting off my fingers,
or kindly call my lawyer.

 

Marshall would like to see you.

- Tell him I say hello.
- Try not to kill him.

 

What have we got?

Oh, hey, uh, I think you
should see for yourself.

What am I looking at?

Well, these are the impostor's
EEG readings, his brain activity.

Basically every individual
has a unique brain pattern,

a signature, and --
take a look at this other one.

 

- They're identical.
- Exactly.

- Whose EEG is this?
- Well, that's the weird part.

I pulled these from
the CIA's database.

This is Arvin Sloane.
The real Sloane. Our Sloane.

You're telling me these two
men share identical brains?

For all intents and
purposes, well, yes.

I mean, this man is
Arvin Sloane.

- At least his brain is.
- How is that possible?

Back at SD-6, I worked on a project that
focused on brain imprinting -- engram encoding.

That program was run out
of psy-ops by McCullough.

Who's McCullough?

 

Calvin McCullough,
senior partner at SD-6.

He headed the psychological warfare
and operations division.

Among the numerous programs he oversaw
was something called Project Brainstorm.

Its purpose -- to explore experimental
technologies to aid in interrogation,

brainwashing, the creation
of sleeper agents,

as well as the transfer of memories
from one subject to another.

This is what we think happened to this man?
He was made to believe he's Sloane?

Not just believe,
but to act.

Among other things,
he shares the same desires,

which explains his pursuit
of Rambaldi artifacts.

Well, if you think about it,

this guy's been able to stay two steps
ahead of us the entire time.

He thinks like you, he knows your strategies,
your playbooks, your secrets.

When we were in Santiago going
after Sloane Clone the first time,

you knew the access code
to his facility -- "Jacquelyn."

I had no reference for that.
It just came to me.

Probably because it's buried deep
inside your subconscious,

which also means
it's buried inside his.

But you said the were only experimental
technologies at the time.

So someone must have continued McCullough's
research after SD-6 was taken down.

McCullough was tipped off to the raid.
He evaded capture.

- Who tipped him?
- I did.

I owed him a favor, one he
clearly didn't return to me.

If McCullough is holding the strings,
then we may have a lead on the orchid.

I have a good idea
where he might be.

I'll put Dixon and Vaughn
on McCullough.

In the meantime, we continue
the interrogation here.

 

Buenos Aires

 

I see you're enjoying
your retirement.

Don't mind if we join you,
do you?

 

It's been a long time,
Mr. Dixon.

To what do I owe the
pleasure of your company?

Arvin Sloane sent us.

 

The real Arvin Sloane.

 

Tell us where the orchid is, and
we might be able to cut you a deal.

 

I don't know where it is.

 

Listen to me. If you don't want to spend
the rest of your life in a federal prison,

I suggest you start
cooperating with us now.

And I am telling you I don't have
the answers you're looking for.

We know you used Project
Brainstorm technology

to make that man believe
he's Arvin Sloane.

And I'm not denying that.

You had him acquire
the orchid for you.

Where is it?

 

Yes.

I made him believe
he's Sloane.

But I did too good a job.

He double-crossed me
and kept the orchid for himself.

Just like Arvin would have done.

You're lying.

 

I'm beyond lying.

 

All that really matters
now is that

my employer would never let me
live long enough to be interrogated,

and that right now

I have 300 milligrams of cyanide
coursing through my veins.

- The coffee!
- Get an ambulance.

 

Who are you working for?

Tell Arvin I --

 

I'm so happy to see you, Sydney.

 

I have only one question
to ask you.

Where's the orchid?

Four years is a long time
not to see someone you love.

 

It appears you've done well.

Look, if you want to tell me
where to find the orchid,

I'll be happy to continue this farce.

Otherwise...

Are you sure that's
what you want, Sydney?

Think about it. There are so many
things you could ask of me.

Why not choose one that matters?

Such as?

 

The reengineering of the
evolution of the species.

You found an application
for one of Rambaldi's formulas.

Mm-hmm. Finally.

I'm the first to admit that some of
Rambaldi's quests occasionally

degenerated into sheer foly,
but not this one.

 

Go on.

 

The work we did --
the work you do now --

taking down bad guys,
putting out fires --

you're a beat cop.
Not making a dent.

You've got to go to the source
-- human nature itself.

Where we are headed.

What will become of human beings.

You want to change the world?

You want to really deal in the vanquishing
of evil and the ascendency of good?

Well, I'm your guy.

You're telling me you're one
of the good guys?

Come work with me.

This work -- would it involve
genetics and bioengineering?

In part.

 

A vulgarian would use
the word "mutate,"

but it has such
negative connotations.

Mutate into what?

Ostensibly into a more evolved,
less aggressive being --

you know, cooperative, calmer.

Easier to control, like the bees at the
monastery. You turned them into killers.

The bees were a test.

I wanted to see if what goes down
could come up, so to speak.

Oh, come on, Sydney.

How many wars were
there last century?

And how many people died in those wars
through genocide or political repression?

We're disgusting, humans.

Do we learn from grace or
beauty or what we call God?

What were you gonna
do about it?

Suppose one could administer
a formula to the general population

that would quietly alter
our brain chemistry,

exponentially expanding our capacity
for qualities like empathy

and harmonic coexistence.

 

This formula --

 

how would you administer it?

 

Nothing could be more simple.

 

Do you have any idea how many
additives are in our drinking water?

 

If I could undo what I did,
I would.

The truth is, through OMNIFAM
I introduced a combination of substances

into water supplies
throughout the world.

It was my intent, based
on Rambaldi's formulas,

to create a more peaceful species.

To breed the aggression
out of the population

just as the monks had done
with their bees.

We don't have time
for your rationalizations.

- No --
- Excuse me.

I'm assuming that you failed, right?

Yes, I failed.

 

Because I didn't have the orchid,

I attempted to artificially
manufacture its nectar.

Because your impostor
already has the orchid,

he doesn't need to acquire any of
the other substances you mentioned.

All he has to do is put the nectar
into the water you contaminated.

You loaded the gun.

 

That's right.

How many people are
we talking about?

How many people drank
the contaminated water?

Somewhere between
300 and 400 million.

 

What?

Assuming the impostor's organization is already
harvesting the chemical from inside that orchid,

I suggest we not waste time
on accusations right now.

 

What are the options?

Dixon and Vaughn are uplinking
all of McCullough's files.

There might be a lead in there.
Divide it up.

See what you can find.

 

I'd like to talk to you.

 

I saw it on your face.
You knew.

You knew what he did,
and you ignored it.

- I want to know why.
- Sydney --

He's sick, dad.
Can't you see that?

He was at the height of
his obsession with Rambaldi,

but he abandoned his scheme.

You still trust him.

I trust that when he laid the seeds for this crisis,
he thought he was doing something good,

that he didn't see this as
a trigger for global genocide.

So he's simply a delusional
megalomaniac with benign intentions?

Sydney, what Sloane did
cannot be undone.

To alert the public would
be worse than useless.

It would create worldwide panic.
We need that flower.

Which we could have recovered long ago
and turned over to the DSR for safe keeping,

but we didn't, because you
sat on what you knew,

which makes you
as guilty as he is.

 

Yes, Marshall?

I think I found something.

Okay, from what I was able to get from McCullough's files,
SD-6 performed detailed brain scans on Sloane.

McCullough then recreated Sloane's brain
digitally and then uploaded it to this guy.

I mean, those files --
they're ingrained deep.

Which leaves us
very few options.

He'll never give us the location of the orchid
as long as he still believes that he's me.

That's right. We'll have
to shock it out of him --

you know, split it off from
his dual persona

and then get his real personality
to tell us where the orchid is.

- Are we talking shock therapy?
- No, not in the traditional sense.

According to the research,

reliving a painful memory

or a tragic experience will literally
shake his moorings,

but has to be something
really bad.

It can't be, you know,
like, "I'm sorry --"

Hypnotic regression. Take him back
to a point in the past and --

your past -- and make him
recall the memory.

Arvin Clone?
He'll probably resist that.

 

You would have to relive
a painful memory.

And then record it using
McCullough's technology,

and then upload it
to Sloane II.

 

You know, it's kind of
like throwing a switch.

One second he's Arvin Clone,
and then shazam, he's himself again.

What are the risks?

To the subject? I'm not sure.
It'll either break him down or not.

What about to him?

The thing is,

I'm gonna need a little bit more time
to run some tests before I synthesize, so --

No.

 

We do it now.

Fine.

 

Where do we begin?

Jacquelyn.

 

Who's Jacquelyn?

 

- 30 years ago, I --
- No! Don't.

Sorry, sir. It's just --

it's better if you experience it
in the moment. Don't verbalize.

Okay, now, this should help
you feel nice and relaxed.

Once you're semi-conscious,

the electrodes will administer small
pulses to put you into a hypnotic state.

I'm going to need some help
accessing Jacquelyn.

Right. Mr. Bristow will speak
to you through your ear bugs.

He'll administer
certain verbal cues

which should bring your mind
into the right place.

- I see.
- Okay. Good luck.

 

We are ready to record
his experience. You're on.

Arvin, I'm going to count
back from 10 to 1.

When I get to 1,

you'll be in a place where
you can tell me about Jacquelyn.

10... 9... 8...

 

- What was that?
- He's fighting it.

He doesn't want to go back
to Jacquelyn. Keep going.

7... 6...

 

5... 4...

 

3... 2... 1.

 

I thought we could take the
boat before it gets too cold.

Perhaps have lunch in Bellagio,
hmm? What do you think?

I like just being here.

 

You can see the wind in the trees.
Maybe you should go.

No, no.

 

No, we can sit here
for as long as you like.

For as long as you need.

 

And I promise you
we will get past Jacquelyn.

 

I don't want to hear that name.
You can't say it, Arvin.

It hurts too much.

 

Will you promise me that?
You won't speak her name again?

Never say... her name.

Let me in, Emily, please.

 

I'm alone in this, Arvin.

 

Right now I am alone.

No.

 

Jacquelyn.

Jacquelyn. Could she
have been a mistress?

 

Please.

 

Wait a minute.
Look at this.

- Is he okay?
- I don't know.

Arvin, we're not quite there yet.
You need to go back.

 

Who is Jacquelyn, Arvin?
Go back to when you met her.

 

You're supposed to be
doing exactly nothing.

 

And that means
not gardening.

It's the nesting instinct.
I can't help it.

 

Emily...

 

please.

Please, no more funny names
of italian villages.

We can't have a daughter
named Carlotta, Tabanabia,

or Fabina.

Fabina.
That name is perfect.

 

How about Jacquelyn?
Hmm?

 

Jacquelyn.

 

Yeah.

Do you like it? Ha ha ha.

 

Baby Jacquelyn.

Jacquelyn. I like that.

 

Baby Jacquelyn.

Dad, did you have any idea?

Sloane's numbers are wild.

His beta brainwaves are
cycling at 14 per second,

and he's releasing massive amounts
of glycine onto the motoneurons.

We have to bring him out.

Do we have enough?
Enough to confront the impostor?

No, not yet.

 

Arvin...

 

keep going.

What happened to Jacquelyn?

 

How is she?

 

No.

 

No, no... no, please, Arvin.

It's a mistake. Please, no.

 

No, no, Arvin, please.

Listen to me.
This was a risky pregnancy.

 

And she fought.

She tried so hard
to stay with us.

- It was too much. Her heart couldn't --
- No, no...

 

My baby!

 

Emily...

 

Oh, my baby...

 

my baby...

 

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

 

No.

 

Guys... that's it.

We have enough to
break down the impostor.

Come with me, Marshall.
Bring Sloane out.

 

Jack, please, are you really
wasting our time with this?

After all, it was you who taught me
how to endure torture.

It was your training that
enabled me to get through

McKenas Cole and
the needles of fire.

Listen to me, you pathetic freak.

Even if what you're
saying was true,

you can be sure that
I kept a few things to myself.

 

Tell us your name.

 

My name --

 

Ned Bolger.

Corporal.

U.S. Army.

Serial number 112762.

Where's the orchid?

 

Who are you?

Corporal, where's the flower?

 

At a warehouse.

Ugano, Switzerland.

43 Paseo Mantello.

 

Damn you, Jack!

I always knew you were a traitor,
and you turn me in?

Sydney, please.
Please don't let him do this.

I'm Ned Bolger.

I'm from Torch Lake, Michigan.

You can't torture POWs.

Geneva convention.

 

Who a-- who am --

 

Who am I? Who are you?

 

Who -- who are you?

There's a problem.

 

It's Sloane.
He's not coming back.

I'm trying to bring himout of it,
but he's fighting it.

I mean, he's supposed
to be waking up.

 

Honey...

 

is everything okay?

 

Yeah.

 

Yeah.

 

Everything is wonderful.

 

Take a look right here.

You see that spike right there?
That's his serotonin release.

You know, like a please center.

It mirrors the exact reaction he had
at the time of Emily's pregnancy.

He's there right now. He's stuck there.
He's kind of in that state.

Can't we just wake him up?

You saw what happened to Bolger,
and the shock could kill him.

Right. Think of it like
in computer terms.

You can't just force-quit.
We have to reboot his brain.

How?

Beats me.

What if one us tried
to guide him back

the way that Jack was able to prompt
some of my father's memories by talking to him?

Well, it could work.

But it also could kill him.

You know, serotonin overload.

I mean, he could die of happiness
-- literally.

- You have a better idea?
- No.

 

Let's get started.

 

Okay, he can hear you now.

 

Hi, dad.

 

Keep going.

Dad, it's me. Nadia.
Your daughter.

 

You know that nice lady
in the little store in town, Angelina?

Uh-huh.

She told me that she didn't approve
of the way I was dressing Jacquelyn.

Dad?

 

- Who's that?
- She's a very lovely girl.

 

She's my...

 

she's my Nadia.

You can't stay here, dad.
I'm sorry.

 

I'm happy here.

You may be,
but your work isn't done.

What a beautiful girl you are.

 

How proud you make me.

But I can't come with you.
The terrible things I've done.

That's why you have to.

Why don't you stay here
with us?

 

Stay here with us. Nadia...

 

Stay with us, darling.
We're family.

Emily and Jacquelyn are gone,
and you have to let them go.

I will never let them go again.

No.

 

They're already gone.

 

What did you do?

 

I was a good man once.

Now I'm a monster.

And monsters cannot be
allowed in this world.

Yes, you were once
a good man.

I believe it.

And you can be again.

But you have to undo
what you've set in motion.

You have not earned
the right to rest.

I'm tired, Nadia.

I am tired,

 

and I am ashamed.

 

Then there's hope.

Come back and
redeem yourself.

 

It's so beautiful here.

But it's not real.

Be brave.
Come back with me.

 

Show me who you are
deep down.

 

I believe in you.

Please, do not betray
that belief.

 

Do not betray it again.

 

Goodbye.

 

No. Don't go.
Dad --

Uhh!

 

Dad.

 

The first time I heard
the name Rambaldi,

I was working with the
army corps of engineers.

It meant nothing to me --
his life, his works.

 

It was simply a curiosity.

 

Something I quickly set aside.

 

And then when
we lost Jacquelyn...

 

when Emily lost the baby...

 

I felt utterly abandoned.

One night I came across some of
his writings that I had stored in a drawer.

 

And somehow...

 

it filled the hole in my heart.

 

Oddly, it wasn't until I saw him

 

that I realized how much
of myself I had lost.

 

I am going to rectify this, Jack.

I will clean up this mess
that I have made.

I'd like to believe that, Arvin.

But you can't.

- I've heard it before.
- Yeah.

 

Well, Jack, all I can say
is I'm trying.

 

And every day it's a struggle.

 

Every day.

 

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