Uh-oh. Oh, oh. Uh-oh.
Ooh, you know what this reminds me of?
Another one of your dumb dreams?
No, no, that-that space movie.
You know, the one with Indiana Jones in it?
Jack, now is not the time for a Star Wars discussion.
Oh, I beg to differ. Now is the perfect time,
'cause I think we can get out of it the same way.
Hey, are you picking up what I'm putting down there, Artoo?
I've asked you not to call me that.
Good news: the general's men don't seem to know where you are,
which means the trash compactor's on a timer.
So if you could stop it, that...
See, I told you this was the perfect hiding spot.
This is definitely a terrible hiding spot, Jack.
Riley, can you hack the controls?
No.
Pretty much everything in this place predates the transistor.
Only three guards.
We could try to take them out, get to the controls.
No, no, no, no, stand down there,
Threepio, you're gonna get yourself shot in the face.
I'm C3PO?
The droid that does nothing but complain?
Hey, you know what, if Artoo can't figure this out,
I'm just gonna do what Han did, hmm?
Yeah, good old Dr. Jones.
Yeah, well, sorry, Solo, it didn't work in the movie,
it's not gonna work here.
- Why not? - The compressive strength...
of that pipe is 500 megapascals.
It's not enough to stop this...
from hitting that wall and putting us in between.
You know what, I was wrong, Mac. You're Threepio.
Stop telling me the odds and tell me how we're gonna escape.
I can't leave a stinking corpse, man.
See those rivets? There should be a hydraulic line
just on the other side of that.
So if we can puncture that,
it would stop this thing,
if it works.
- What if it doesn't work? - Then we get crushed to death.
- Yeah, yeah, do it, do it. - For the compressive force...
to overcome the puncture resistance,
we're gonna have to hold the pipe perfectly normal to the walls, okay?
Dude, nothing about this is normal.
Riley, can you create a distraction?
Yeah, something should go boom on the far side of the complex.
Make it go boom fast, 'cause if this doesn't work,
then Jack and I are gonna be... inseparable.
I know, I know.
Advertise your product or brand here contact www.OpenSubtitles.org today
Keep it steady! Steady!
Are you okay? Is it broken?
I can't think straight right now.
I thought these things were smelly on the outside.
- It worked. - Quickly.
- They're on the move. - Bozer, way to go, man.
That was a topically relevant Obi-Wan quote.
Thanks, Jack. So does that mean I get to be Obi-Wan?
- No, definitely not. No. - No, definitely not.
Synced and corrected by Aaronnmb www.addic7ed.com
You got out alive, and you managed to recover
the stolen data tapes,
but Jack is in the infirmary
with an axial fracture to his left radius.
So what went wrong?
This one's on me.
I was so focused on stopping that motor,
I-I used a technical term Jack didn't know.
"Hold the pipe perfectly normal"?
Yeah, I was listening.
Uh, what's so weird about "normal"?
In physics, it means "perpendicular."
Well, there's no guarantee that Jack would know
what the word "perpendicular" meant either.
Look, normally...
like normal-normal, not physics normal...
I can translate technical terms into Jack-speak,
and I didn't this time.
His injury's my fault.
Yeah, whose fault is it
that the two of you jumped into the jaws of death?
Look, I love Jack as much as...
it's possible to love Jack.
And he's one of the best operatives I've ever met,
but when mistakes like this nearly get agents killed,
it's my job to ask if this is the right fit.
Maybe you need a partner that can speak your language.
Frankie?
Who's Frankie?
Friend of Mac's from MIT.
A close one.
Yeah. What, uh... what h... what happened?
Uh...
No, of course I'll be there, yeah.
Send me the...
Thanks.
What's going on, Mac?
Is Frankie o...
There was an accident. She's, uh...
she's dead.
Oh, Mac...
- I'm sorry, man. - Yeah.
There's a memorial in Boston.
I was wondering if I could...
Go. We'll deal with all this later.
_
- Suit's a nice touch. - You sure?
You know, I was... I was worried it was a little over-the-top,
but I look good.
No, no. Over-the-top would have been
using the Phoenix jet to get to Boston before me,
renting this car, and then meeting me here with that sign.
The hat and the gloves are just the cherry on top
of a banana split of weird decisions.
Bozer called me and told me what happened.
And, sure, I'm missing mandatory rehab for my arm,
but I wanted to be here for you, man.
Here you go, sir!
It's a well-known fact that people who sit up front
don't tip as well.
So I have that to look forward to.
Hey, Riles, with, uh, Mac and Jack out for the day,
I thought maybe you could give me a little tutorial on...
Am I catching you at a bad time?
Oh. No. No, meet me in the lab in five.
I'll teach you whatever you want to know.
What is it you want to know?
So, how is Hawaii Boy?
He's great.
And his name is Kalei.
Well, tell him Ka-hey for me.
Will do.
You still have a thing for her, huh?
Who says I have a thing for her?
Who doesn't?
So? Do we have a rule against it?
No.
But, Bozer, there's no "it" here.
I mean, you see that, right?
It's time to move on. Seriously.
Boss, with all due respect... and I mean this sincerely...
will you please mind your own business?
When it's on my dime, it is my business.
So suck it up.
Open a Tinder account.
Get over it.
What's she know about Tinder?
Shouldn't I be driving?
Are you kidding me?
My arm may be all busted up,
but whatever's going on in that head of yours
has no business behind the wheel.
And I'm really sorry about the loss of your friend.
- What was her name? Frankie? - Yeah.
And what happened, exactly?
There was a fire in her lab.
Just one of those things, I guess.
You loved her, didn't you?
Hmm?
No.
It wasn't like that.
She was five years older, and she had a boyfriend.
Is that what you wanted to hear?
Besides, she was...
way out of my league.
Out of your league? What, she was that gorgeous?
No. Well, yeah.
Yeah, she was, but...
it wasn't her looks.
It was her brains that put her out of my league.
Oh, so you're telling me that she was smarter than you?
- Yeah. - Hmm.
Yeah, I don't believe that.
- Oh, believe it. - Mm.
Frankie was a double major in mechanical engineering and biology.
She was an expert in DNA.
She made me look like...
Well...
she made me look like you... no offense.
None taken. You wish you could look like me.
Well, she sounds pretty special.
I've never heard you talk about anybody like this before.
Yeah. Frankie was...
one of a kind.
You know, a lot of kids, they go to MIT
and they think that they're gonna change the world, but...
Frankie...
she actually could've done it.
Words seem inadequate
to express the loss of such a...
gifted and giving scientist.
Rosalind Franklin Mallory...
Frankie, to those of us who knew her well...
wasn't just the smartest person in any room.
She was also the kindest.
I was fortunate to have been the principal sponsor
for Frankie's recent work,
work that I hope will continue someday, somehow,
which is why I'm establishing a scholarship...
What are you making?
It's called a Mobius strip.
It's a three-dimensional object with only one side.
Frankie used to love these things.
... Look to the future, searching for solutions
to mankind's biggest problems.
Mac.
Thanks for coming.
Of course, Smitty.
Thanks for letting me know.
How are her folks doing?
Pretty torn up.
Hell, we all are.
First Dr. V, now this.
Dr. Vanketesh?
What happened?
Oh, you don't know?
His car went off the road in a snowstorm.
There was a tree.
He was into a coma and never came out.
Excuse me, fellas.
Who the hell takes candid photos at a funeral?
Catch up with you later, Smitty.
Yeah.
Hey.
Can I talk to you?
Hey, there, sneaky Pete. You missed my good side.
Are you all right?
He dropped his phone, so yeah, I'm fine. Get him, Mac!
Ow!
Well, whoever he was,
he knows the campus better than I do now.
He disappeared into thin air.
You get into his phone?
Yeah, man, it's definitely a burner.
This guy has shots of pretty much everyone at the service.
- Question is: why? - I don't know.
While we're asking questions, though, I got one of my own.
Why did Frankie's faculty advisor
die in a car crash a month before she died in a fire?
- Do what? - Yeah.
And then there's this.
Why would he be taking pictures of Frankie's burnt out lab?
According to the arson reports,
the fire started in an unidentified electrical box
located on the south wall.
Which ignited lab chemicals...
that were used as the accelerant
that caused the explosion.
The victim's re...
Remains?
Keep reading.
It's fine.
The victim's... remains
were found five feet from the south wall.
It's presumed she was knocked over by the initial blast.
Uh, resulting gases then caused a flash-over
that burned hot enough to consume the lab equipment
and the... victim's body.
No.
Hey, Mac, I know this has got to be hard for you.
We can get a fire team come in here again...
That's not what I meant.
"No" as in that's not what happened.
Now what are you doing?
What I was trained to do: find the heart of the bomb.
Come on, Mac. You really think it was a bomb?
I've seen enough bomb sites to know when I'm standing in one.
Fair enough.
South wall, five feet.
This device is where the fire started.
It's a piece of lab equipment called a spectrometer.
Only they don't build them with detonators.
You're right.
This was no accident.
So, I guess your axial fracture's all healed, then,
right, Jack?
Because I know that you wouldn't miss
Phoenix-mandated rehab
to take an unsanctioned trip back East
unless you were fully recovered.
- Arm's great. Never better. - Really?
Let me see you do a push-up.
All right. Look, Matty,
we both know Jack's arm isn't any better.
Yeah, no kidding.
I know this isn't official Phoenix business,
but I also know that Frankie's death wasn't an accident.
But, Mac, Frankie was doing post-grad work.
- Why would somebody want to murder her? - I don't know, Boze.
Riley, you get anything off that burner phone?
Yep, got it. Hacked it.
Looks like your paparazzi tried to e-mail this pic of Jack
before you got his phone.
To who? Frankie's killer?
I don't know. Message didn't go through.
Which means I can't trace the I.P.
I'll see if I can tie this e-mail address to a physical location,
but it could take some time.
Well, time isn't on your side, Mac.
I need you back here in 48 hours for another assignment.
48 hours? So we can stay?
Yes. You and the one-armed man
have two days to find something that will get
Boston PD to reopen Frankie's case.
Okay. Thanks, boss.
That was unexpectedly nice of her.
If investigators didn't find the detonator,
there must be something else they overlooked,
something that can help us find her killer.
Ugh. Let me guess.
You think I'm jumping at shadows 'cause I can't accept she's gone.
Hey, relax. I trust your instincts 100%,
but your brain can be overly technical.
You're a cerebral guy.
So let's think about this from the human angle, okay?
What was the motive?
- Bozer's question. - Mm.
- Why would someone want Frankie dead? - Yeah.
You got the usual suspects: stalker, angry neighbor,
jealous ex.
But the fire didn't start in her house.
It was in her lab.
Okay, so maybe somebody didn't like
what she was working on back here.
- Do you know what it was? - Uh...
just the general idea.
It was a new DNA sequencing technique.
It could reconstruct even the most severely degraded blood samples.
She was hoping to identify infectious diseases
like Ebola before an outbreak.
Okay, well, that's a big deal.
But unless the Ebola virus is going around starting fires,
that's another dead end.
Not necessarily.
That new technique could be worth a lot of money.
Could put a lot of medical research companies out of business.
That's a good point.
This lock look new to you?
Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.
Hey, hey. Looks like that's not the only new thing
she had installed; check that out.
Most security cameras point towards a door.
This one points towards the street. Why?
I don't know.
Maybe she was afraid somebody was watching her.
I doubt that hard drive survived the fire,
but a lot of these things are backed up to a website, aren't they?
Riley can get in there, tap some keys.
Waste of time.
Frankie was way too paranoid about people hacking into her stuff
to leave anything online.
In college, we used to...
Used to what?
Walk away in the middle of a conversation?
Come on, let me in on it, buddy. What are you looking for?
Well, MIT is extremely competitive.
We pretty much invented computer hacking,
so to keep people from "borrowing" your research,
Frankie and I got into the habit
of physically backing up our work
and hiding it.
Okay, wait a minute. If you're about to tell me
that Frankie figured out a way
to download her research into a plant,
my eyeball's just gonna explode.
Flash drive.
Okay, well, that makes more sense.
H-How did you know which plant to check?
Oh, yeah, because of her symbol.
The Morpheus strip.
Mobius strip.
Morpheus was the guy from The Matrix.
Oh. Yeah. Well, I love that dude.
Okay. Got a bunch of video files here.
I think this is her...
journal.
So, guess who's got two thumbs and just used her new technique
to reconstruct a full sequence from a sample the FBI's lab
could only get four alleles from?
Yeah.
Yeah, you would've liked her.
It's her last entry.
Okay, so maybe I'm just... still freaked out about Dr. V.
And I know this will sound nuts, but I think I'm being followed.
I'm fairly certain my lab was broken into.
Nothing was taken, but, uh, things were moved.
I'm gonna get new locks installed and a camera.
So, if you're watching this video
and something bad has happened to me,
It-it wasn't an accident.
Someone killed my advisor,
and I think they're trying to kill me, too.
See, someone was after her.
She knew it.
- Hey, Riley. - Okay, it wasn't easy,
but I was able to trace the e-mail address
I pulled off the burner phone
to the physical location of its last log in.
I'm sending you coordinates now.
This is on campus.
It's in the Tombs.
"The Tombs"? Yeah, that's not ominous at all.
Yeah, the Tombs is what MIT kids called a cluster
of old buildings that no one uses anymore.
We used to sneak into them all the time.
To do what?
- Work on experiments. - Oh. Okay.
The kind the faculty didn't approve of.
They had a strict policy on explosions.
Man, I can't tell
if you did college completely wrong or completely right.
Well, the person using that e-mail
is hanging out in these Tombs.
That's where we're going.
Wait a minute. So, you're telling me
you used to go in here, like, on purpose?
Yeah, all the time, at night.
You know I'm all about "no man left behind,"
but let's be clear on one thing:
If this place is haunted, it's every man for himself.
A: I'm faster than you,
so every man for himself works for me,
and B: when you're 17 years old,
playing mad scientist with your friends,
this place has a certain charm.
All right.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Look, somebody rigged the door.
You're right.
Trip wire leading to a cell phone.
Rigged to let whoever's down here
know they've got company.
The detonator you found in Frankie's lab
was pretty makeshift, as well.
You know, this is starting to look like
your handiwork, dude.
Whoever made that I think just made us.
Go.
Where are we going?!
Shortcut!
Let's see who the bastard is who killed...
- Frankie? - Mac.
Oh, I can't wait to hear this one.
Hmm?
Whoa.
I am getting a real "separated at birth"
kind of vibe here.
Are you sure your last name's not MacGyver?
Please. Mac wishes he had my flair for interior design.
And I know it's not much, but IKEA doesn't exactly have
a "hiding out after faking your own death" aisle,
so I had to make do.
Well, I love what you've done with the place.
Thank you.
So, how did you find me?
I thought I'd been doing a pretty decent job of covering my tracks.
Well, we traced the e-mail address your photographer friend
tried to send those pics to.
I still can't believe you invited paparazzi
to crash your memorial.
Man, I'm stealing that one.
A: It's "paparazzo,"
B: I thought whoever wanted me dead might show their face.
I couldn't exactly go to my own funeral.
- Oh, you have the phone? - Uh, yeah.
Your parents were, uh...
No, I had to keep them in the dark to keep them safe.
Everyone needed to think I was dead
or my would-be killer could've used them to get to me, so...
Richard Sang gave my eulogy?
Wow.
- Smitty actually wore a tie. - I know.
Now I wish I would've gone.
Yeah, I mean... coworkers, family, friends...
I don't see anyone I don't know,
and none of these people wanted me dead.
Okay, well, any idea why your death
would be on someone's to-do list?
Maybe.
Mac, do you remember my thesis project?
"DNA Reconstruction via RNA-Guided CRISPR-Cas9
"and Pattern-Matching Algorithms"?
You made me proof 948 pages six times.
So, yeah, it kind of rings a bell.
Just, um, explain it to someone
who maybe flunked math, biology and chemistry.
All three?
Okay, uh...
well, um...
think of it like this:
- you remember Humpty Dumpty? - Yeah.
My technique can put his DNA back together again.
See, Dr. V and I were trying to find a way to sequence viral genomes.
We ended up failing at that but stumbled into a breakthrough.
A method for recovering full genomes
from even badly-degraded DNA.
So we did what anyone would've done...
You know what I would've done? I would've taken
DNA from a frog and put it into a T. Rex,
like a little mini Jurassic Park, you know what I...
You didn't do that, did you?
- Uh, no, not exactly. - Okay.
We asked the cops for blood samples.
Uh, closed cases, so we could...
Create a control group to see if your technique actually worked.
And it did.
The results were incredible.
No matter how degraded a sample,
we were able to sequence it with a 94% accuracy.
So Boston PD upped the ante.
They sent us a cold case.
Sample...
Ah. A35-B42-1707. Yeah.
Cops knew this blood was the killer's,
but all current methods of DNA testing
had failed to sequence it.
But your method could.
So this is all happening because your research
put you on the trail of a killer.
And let me guess:
right when you were about to I.D. him,
your little lab went kaboom.
Yeah, and it was just dumb luck
- I didn't go kaboom with it. - Mm.
Actually, that night, I woke up from a dream
about a single-nucleotide polymorphism,
so I ran to my lab to adjust the spectrometer settings,
stumbled onto the device someone planted, quickly did the math.
So if the person who had planted the bomb
knew that you survived the first attempt,
then they would try again.
Yeah, and my odds were against me
that I'd stumble into it the next try before it killed me.
So, I whipped up an accelerant
to, uh, make the fire burn hot enough
to sell a crime scene with no body.
I thought if I could get away clean with the blood samples,
I'd have a chance to regroup and figure out who's after me.
Or whoever sample A35-B42-1707 belonged to.
It sounds to me like Mr.... A35 has the cops on his payroll.
How else would he even know Frankie was about to I.D. him?
Think about that.
You don't still have the blood sample, do you?
For all the good it'll do us without sequencing equipment.
Oh, I think we can handle that.
Yeah, we got all that stuff.
Uh, that's sweet,
but I'm not sure what two guys from a think tank can do.
Well, to be fair, it's one hell of a think tank.
Okay, so we did some digging
and we found the Boston PD case file that sample
A35-B42-1707 was pulled from.
Sending it to you now.
Victim's name was Ronald Manning,
reporter from Southie
found shot to death in his backyard.
Police found signs that he struggled with his killer,
including blood underneath his fingernails,
but the body was outside
for a week and it had rained, so...
Yeah, blah, blah, blah, boring.
Boring CSI mumbo jumbo.
Bottom line, whoever offed Ronnie
is now trying to take out Frankie to cover his tracks.
Safe bet.
So who knew you were working with Boston PD, Frankie?
Lot of people.
My advisor, my department head,
two dozen grad students and post-docs.
It's not like what I was doing was secret.
Okay, so we just use Frankie's technique to rebuild the DNA,
run the results through CODIS, and then...
cross our fingers for a match.
Hey, uh, try to keep up, boy genius.
My lab was incinerated, remember?
That's true.
But I've never been one to let a little arson get in my way.
Never took this long before.
Yeah, well, it's a new lock.
This tumbler has eight pins, so it takes a little...
longer.
Wow.
This brings back memories.
It's like being in a time machine, huh?
Yeah. This was my home away from home when I was enrolled.
Oh, that's funny. You know, my home away from home
was this bar in college called Slappy's.
I called it Sloppy's, but...
Yeah, uh, I think we can guess why you called it that, Jack.
Yeah, it's 'cause I got pretty sloppy in there, yeah.
Okay.
First step is extracting the viable DNA from the blood sample.
Okay, what tubes are we using?
Uh, one-point-fives. We'll need, uh...
One for the sample and one to balance the centrifuge.
I do remember some stuff.
So...
once we separate the cells from the serum...
We'll need to extract as much clot as possible,
then prep for electrophoresis.
See, the secret behind the technique Dr. V and I stumbled into
is the gel we run through the capillaries.
Mm.
It's a... original recipe.
Okay, I think I'm gonna let you two nerds get your flirt on,
check the perimeter.
Enjoy yourselves.
Glad to see you can still identify a 1.5.
After all that time you made me your lab lackey,
how could I forget?
Barely had time to do my own research.
Oh, are you kidding?
You were looking for an excuse not to work.
You said you had to "let your research breathe."
Here. Last one's for you.
Ready to get your life back?
Kind of crazy to be working with you again.
It's kind of like I never left.
Yeah, but you did.
Dropped out without a word of explanation.
Enlisted in the...
Army, I heard?
Yeah, what's shaking, Threepio?
I thought we both agreed Mac was Threepio.
- Clearly, I'm Boba Fett. - Boba Fett?
Boba Fett was a badass, man.
He was, like, the best bounty hunter in the galaxy.
And, just for saying that,
you're more like that fat, worthless one... Jabba.
- This is what I get for calling you. - And about that...
you always call Mac when you need something.
What are you calling me for? What do you want?
Okay, fine, fine, you got me, Jack.
I'm calling about Riley.
- Why? Is she okay? - She's fine, I'm not.
Ever since Hawaii, Captain Aloha's
been blowing up her phone nonstop.
And she's all giggles and smiles and...
I need your help, man.
I mean, I'm stuck in the friend zone, and I don't...
You're stuck in the friend zone?
Okay, couple things. First of all, "stuck"
implies that you deserve to be in some other type of zone.
And that ain't up to you, man, that's up to her.
That's always up to the girl, you should know that.
- Second... - Okay, but what I'm...
Hey, don't interrupt.
I'm not done.
Second, anybody who can call Riley Davis
a close, personal friend is lucky.
She's a good person, man.
And third, if you don't start taking no for an answer,
I'm gonna go all Wookiee on you and rip your...
arms off.
Got to go, Jabba. Good talk, man.
Hey!
Time to pack up the science fair. We go company. Let's go.
What? Why? The centrifuge hasn't started spinning.
We still need to separate the serum...
Hey, we're about to have our serum separated.
- How many? - Only six.
- But they got guns, man. Let's bounce. - Guns?
Yeah, those things that'll kill you. Yeah, yeah. Let's go.
- Come on. - We need to go.
- Mac... - Look, I already lost you once.
I'm not gonna let you die again.
- Let's pack up, let's go. - Yeah.
If this is all they want, maybe we just give it to them, huh?
- Maybe they'll go away. - Yeah, Frankie,
I'm pretty sure a six-man private security team
is here to make you go away.
Hey, you know what it is?
It's time to see just how good Uncle Jack is
with just his right hook.
No, no, no, no. I got an idea, I think. Just hold on.
What are you making?
It's an electric whip. Watch out for the end.
Oh!
Yes, yes.
Hey, you-you know, back in Texas,
- I was, uh... - ... Junior whip-cracking champion?
- Yeah. - Three years running?
- Yeah. - I know.
Yeah, well, she doesn't.
Who says I was talking to you anyway, man?
Guys, they're coming.
Yeah, watch out.
That was awesome.
Come on, there's gonna be more coming.
Mac, what the hell have you been doing since you dropped out of school?
Come on, come on.
I'm having trouble wrapping my head around this.
Boy genius is a spy now?
Between the two of us, I think I should be more freaked out,
since up until four hours ago, I thought you were dead.
Hey, Riley.
Take all the wireless chips out of Frankie's laptop now.
Right now.
Whoever's after Frankie hid spyware on her hard drive.
As soon as she connected to Wi-Fi, it sent out her GPS coordinates.
That's how they found us.
Riley, is there any way you can trace this back to the killer?
I'm trying, but so far, no luck.
If they know I'm still alive and they can't find me,
they're gonna go after my parents.
I need to just get them in the car and leave town.
No, no, no. These guys are not gonna stop until they find you.
And besides, if you leave now, you won't be able to finish your work.
Oh, my work? Yeah, who cares about my work?
I do. Frankie,
everything we used to talk about you're actually doing now.
I can't just let you walk away from it.
Mac, this isn't about you.
No, you're right. It's not about me.
It's about you and what you're doing for the world.
Hey, stop. Look at me.
Yesterday, I thought that you were dead,
and if you walk away now,
if you just run... you kind of are.
So... please just let me help you get your life back.
How, Mac?
Our only hope of finding the killer
is sequencing that DNA, and that's impossible.
They blew up my lab, and we can't go back to the one at MIT.
Do you remember Dr. V's favorite saying?
"'Impossible' is not a scientific term."
So, if the only thing we don't have is a lab...
we'll just have to make one.
Kegger at-at Smitty's tonight, 11:00 p.m.
Hey, we're making moonshine.
Pass it on.
Tell all your nerd buddies.
So I got almost everything on your list, um,
I think, except for, uh,
"Cas9 Nuclease 1 nmol."
M-Mol?
Y'all still need that?
Only if we want it to work.
Okay, so that's a "yes," smart-ass.
Also, you wrote "powdered gelatin."
You mean, like, Jell-O?
Yeah, we need it for electrophoresis.
Okay, yeah, that's... that's what I thought. All right.
Oh, unflavored gelatin
only, Jack.
Frankie has a very specific recipe,
so Jell-O won't work.
So... no cherry-flavored?
Can I ask you something?
I know it doesn't look like much, but it's gonna...
No, it's not about that. It's about you.
You were one of the smartest guys here.
You want to know why I left?
I'm not saying that you chose the wrong path.
It's just... not the one I would have seen you taking.
Me, either... honestly.
But...
I was walking across campus one day,
trying to visualize a nine-dimensional polytope,
when my grandfather called.
And one of his old war buddies died.
The guy who saved his life, actually.
And...
it made me realize that while I'm sitting here
trying to solve theoretical problems,
soldiers were facing real ones.
Real problems that I could solve.
I mean, I loved it here.
I did.
Being around people like us.
It's amazing.
But...
everything we did was so...
abstract.
And I just needed something a little more hands-on,
so I dropped out
and enlisted, and before I knew it,
I was diffusing IEDs in Afghanistan.
Did you just make a centrifuge out of cardboard?
Oh, is that what I just did?
It'll spin at 20,000 RPMs,
enough to separate your blood sample for sequencing.
No match.
Try the foreign DNA database.
No match.
Are you trying to tell me
I just stole all that lab equipment for nothing?
Maybe not nothing.
Those databases... they only check for 13 genetic markers,
but we have the killer's entire sequence.
There has to be something we can do with all that extra information.
Well, there's phenotype prediction.
With a full human genome, you can determine sex, age, skin,
hair, eye color and facial structure.
You can even tell if they have freckles.
So even though we can't find the killer in every database,
we can sketch what he looks like?
- Yeah. - Actually,
if you send me that info, I think I can do you one better.
I'm still working on the hair,
but if the age and facial structure you gave me is right,
then this...
is the face of our killer.
Oh, my God.
Am I crazy, or isn't that the same dude who gave your eulogy?
You're not crazy.
It's Richard Sang.
Okay. Who's Richard Sang?
Just one of the most powerful men in Boston.
And apparently, one of the most dangerous.
And it is my great honor
to dedicate this new facility.
Despite recent tragic setbacks,
the future of scientific research at MIT is bright.
So, the same dude who fronted your research
is the same dude you almost busted for murder?
What are the odds of that?
Sang is one of MIT's most generous benefactors.
I can't believe he'd do something like this.
Believe it.
Riley found proof the reporter Sang murdered
was about to expose him for massive fraud.
Yeah, but we're gonna need more than hacked e-mails
and one of Bozer's creepy clay heads to nail this guy.
If I could get a sample of his DNA,
- I could provide a conclusive match. - Okay.
So we need a strand of hair, a glass he drank from or what?
Unfortunately, my technique only works on blood.
That's okay. Drawing blood's my specialty, sweetheart.
_
Mr. Sang?
Will this facility continue developing the, uh,
Vanketesh-Mallory DNA sequencing technique?
Or did you think that avenue of research was pretty much dead?
Frankie. My God, you're...
Oh, very much so...
- no thanks to you. - What? I don't...
Mr. Sang, we should talk.
Come with us.
Hey, dick!
Actually, I think campus police can take it from here.
Oh, great. Officers, I'd like to confess
to an assault via sucker punch.
I don't suppose either one of you rent-a-cops has
an evidence bag on you, do you?
Ha-ha! Hungry like the wolf, son.
The blood on Jack's ring is
a 13-point match to the killer.
Sang is being taken into custody as we speak.
And I had a chat with the local FBI.
He's not gonna buy his way out of this one.
So, they're gonna need this for evidence, or whatever?
'Cause I worked really hard on it.
We'll let you know, Boze.
And thanks, everyone, for helping us out.
And you did it with six hours to spare.
So get your butts back on a plane and get home now.
Both of you.
Jack, you think you can con your way into the French embassy
with that sling on your arm?
But of course, mon ami.
Arrivederci.
Okay, that's Italian.
Whatever.
Little love.
Ah.
Well, boy genius,
any chance I could convince you to stay?
Gonna need a hand rebuilding my lab.
Honestly, Frankie, there's a part of me that wants to.
And then there's that other part, yeah.
Yeah. But, hey, if you hit a snag,
- if you want to brainstorm ideas... - Mm.
... or if you just want to tell me how you're doing.
I think we're smart enough to uh,
figure out how to use a telephone.
Or build one.
Hey, Riley.
I'm, uh...
I'm sorry.
For what?
For, you know,
not taking any of the one billion hints
you've been dropping.
And for making things weird about Captain Aloha.
I mean... Kalei.
I let my hopes about what we could be...
blind me to what we are.
And what we are is...
is pretty great.
Are you saying you're finally ready to be my friend?
Then could we please grab a burger
and talk about Resident Evil 7?
Absolutely. On one condition.
Can you give me some advice?
'Cause, uh, I've been thinking about my game,
and it could probably use some tweaks.
- Yeah. Little tweaks. - Yeah.
Little tweaks here and there.
- All right. - So, when it come to women...
You know I've been thinking, maybe Frankie was right, man.
Maybe you should stay here.
- Jack. - No, I'm not kidding.
I mean, Frankie and you are both so smart and in sync,
I'm starting to feel like the dumb one.
You're not the dumb one.
Yes, I am, and you know it.
And you really are a genius, man.
I'm just thinking maybe you belong
with your own kind, you know, the nerds.
- Are you trying to White Fang me? - No.
Harry and the Hendersons. You remember when John Lithgow,
even though he loved that Sasquatch, man,
he punched him right in the face
to convince him to move back to the woods
and live with the other Bigfoot creatures?
Look, I don't want to work at a lab at MIT, okay?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I want to work with you.
- Is that what you wanted to hear? - Oh.
You trying to make me cry?
You know, for a tough guy, you sure do get emotional easy.
That doesn't mean I won't whup that ass for calling me a sissy.
- Uh, it's not even what I said. - That's what I heard.
Well, you should get your ears checked,
'cause your arm's not the only thing that's broken.
Your face is broken.
Now that's dumb.
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