PRESIDENT REAGAN: Air and naval forces of the United States
launched a series of strikes against terrorist facilities...
REPORTER: Pan Am Flight 103 crashed into the the town of Lockerbie.
REAGAN: ...savage acts of terror in
Africa, Europe, the Middle East.
GEORGE H.W. BUSH: This will not stand, this aggression against, uh, Kuwait.
REAGAN: This relentless pursuit of terror.
We will make no distinction.
REPORTER: The USS Cole was attacked
while refueling in the port of Aden.
This was an act of terrorism.
It was a despicable and cowardly act.
The next song we're going to play for you
is one of the good old favorites.
...until something stops him.
WOMAN: I'm just making sure we don't get hit again.
MAN: That plane crashed into the World Trade Center.
Thousands of people running.
We must and we will remain vigilant at home and abroad.
(speaking Arabic)
SAUL: What the fuck are you doing?
God!
CARRIE: Fuck! I missed something once before.
I won't... I can't let that happen again.
SAUL: It was ten years ago.
Everyone missed something that day.
CARRIE: Everyone's not me.
Sync & corrected by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
Previously on Homeland:
How has the homecoming been?
It's been great.
For all of us.
BRODY: I appreciate you looking out for Jessica,
like you did while I was gone.
What do you want to know?
How he died.
BRODY: He's gone.
Does it really matter how it happened?
It does to me.
We're onto the next case.
Raqim Faisel.
What did you say?
MAN: He should use an alternate route. Tell him now.
ESTES: See what second team
comes up with tonight.
If nothing, move on.
What?
The one surviving terrorist
from the compound in Afghanistan
where we rescued Brody.
Scooped him up in
some shit shack in IBD.
ESTES: Afzal Hamid.
You and Carrie will interrogate him,
with the help of Sergeant Brody.
CARRIE: Do you know this man?
He was my guard.
What can I do for you, Sergeant?
I believe I've earned a moment face-to-face
with my torturer, sir.
14th man gave up an e-mail address we just traced
to the Engineering Department at Bryden University.
Professor we tailed then cleared? Correct.
Find this man.
Raqim Faisel.
What's going on, Saul?
Hamid's dead.
Suicide.
How the hell is that possible?
Razor blade fragment.
Left wrist.
What? Where did he get that?
SAUL: What the hell?
Not only did Brody contrive to get himself in the room,
he orchestrated Hamid's suicide and he warned Dr. Faisel.
And we-- you and I-- let it happen.
I think you should leave now.
With pleasure.
Know what, you can keep that.
Fuck this shit!
(video winding)
BRODY: How did you think this...
(video winding)
(grunting)
Come on!
(grunting)
Come on!
(video winding)
(grunting)
Come on!
(sighs)
(video winding)
(grunting)
MAN: Calm down!
Calm down. Calm down.
SHOOTER: How is such a massive fuck-up even possible?
Please, explain that to me.
Sorry I'm late.
ESTES: Hamid probably brought the razor blade with him.
The heel of one of his shoes was peeled back.
It's also conceivable that he found the razor blade
somewhere in the safe house.
One of our sweepers might have missed it.
There is another possibility.
Someone on our side could have given it to him.
ESTES: Th-That's a stretch.
CARRIE: Why?
ESTES: You actually think someone on the SEAL team
gave Hamid a piece of broken razor blade?
Or maybe you think I did it, or Saul.
I certainly don't think you did it.
I'm just saying, we should polygraph
everyone who came into contact with Hamid.
Ask each one of them directly about the razor blade.
I've written up a list.
We're talking about 11 people,
including the SEAL team that brought him here.
She's right.
We can't rule out the possibility
of a mole.
What if Raqim Faisel was warned by the same person
who gave Hamid the razor blade?
SHOOTER: Faisel?
The guy that bought the house by the airport?
You want to connect him to this?
He disappeared just as we moved in.
Coincidence?
Or did he know we were coming?
Oh, good Christ.
Look, if nothing more, let's cover our asses.
11 polygraph tests. What's the big deal?
I'll go first.
Take care of the polygraphs.
(door closes)
Don't you ever do that to me again!
You disagree with me, fine, but make it a sidebar!
Well, you heard what the man said.
Set up the polygraphs!
And get me Faisel!
Yes, sir.
What a surprise. Sergeant Brody's on this list.
Well, it's not my fault
Estes let him in the room with Hamid.
Expected to find your resignation
on my desk this morning.
I had a much better idea, don't you think?
I should forget the things you said?
Yes, please.
He's right, you know.
You embarrassed him in there.
Who gives a shit?
Saul, we're gonna get Brody.
He'll never pass the polygraph test.
We'll see.
I'll bet you everything I've got.
Everything. Including my Monk's Dream,
signed by Thelonious himself.
I prefer Coltrane.
Not so fussy.
Okay, uh, here.
So, uh, the tables will go right here,
the chairs around the tables,
and then just throughout the yard, okay?
All right.
Yeah, okay.
JESSICA: Damn it you two.
The memorial is in a half an hour.
You're supposed to be ready. Get dressed.
DANA: Ma, this little creep keeps hogging the bathroom!
Chris, let your sister
use the bathroom, please!
(door closes)
You okay?
Not exactly looking forward to seeing Helen Walker.
Kind of got on my high horse when she remarried.
Why?
I was waiting for you to come home.
I guess I figured she could do the same.
I had no right.
Do you know what you're going to say?
At the service?
No.
Well, just be honest.
I'm sure everything's gonna be fine.
We should hurry.
(sighs)
Here.
You look very handsome,
Sergeant Brody.
MAN: Is your name Carrie Mathison?
Last time I checked.
Yes or no, please.
Yes.
Do you work for the Central Intelligence Agency?
Yes.
Regarding the questions you'll be asked today,
do you intend to tell the truth?
Yes.
Are you married?
No.
Have you ever been married?
No.
Do you have children?
No.
Did you ever commit a minor traffic violation?
Yes.
Are you now in Mississippi?
No.
Have you ever revealed any classified information
to anyone without proper security clearance?
No.
Have you ever taken any illegal drugs?
Yes.
Have you taken any illegal drugs
since joining the Central Intelligence Agency?
No.
Did you pass a razor blade to Afzal Hamid?
No.
Okay.
Here we go.
All ready, sir?
Um, is your name David Estes?
Yes.
Do you work for the Central Intelligence Agency?
Yes.
Are you married?
You know, I was married, but I cheated on her,
so that kind of soured things.
Is that a no?
No.
No. Okay.
Uh, do you have children?
Yes.
Not that they're talking to me.
Did you pass a razor blade to Afzal Hamid?
No.
Find anything?
Eight million fingerprints,
a man's belt from Macy's-- size 32--
couple of takeout food containers
from a local Chinese restaurant.
Condoms.
Condoms? What else?
A six-pack of diet Coke in the refrigerator.
That's it?
Interview the neighbors?
In progress.
Her?
GALVEZ: Not yet.
(sighs)
I apologize for all the commotion, ma'am.
We'll be out of your hair soon.
Oh, this is very exciting. (chuckles)
It's not often we get a murderer living
in the neighborhood. Murderer?
That's what Marilyn across the street said--
a cold-blooded murderer
raped and strangled some poor girl
over in Fairfax County. Whew! Lock your doors tight tonight.
Oh, I will.
Mr. Jawdal moved in about, uh...
three weeks ago? That's right.
Anything you can tell me about him?
He was very quiet and polite.
They pretty much kept to themselves.
They?
He and his wife.
- What happened? - I don't know. Someone must have found out about the house.
How? I don't know.
Where are we going?
Someplace safe. Says who?
This is nuts.
There's no one there.
Yeah? How do you know?
I know. Relax, okay?
We're fine. Fine?
Are you kidding me? We're not fine.
We're fucked!
(sighs)
Raqim? What?
I'm sorry I dragged you into this.
You didn't drag me into it.
Okay?
I dragged myself into it.
I am a victim of your fabulousness.
Are you saying I'm fabulous?
Yes, I am.
You are so full of shit.
WOMAN: I asked all of you here today to help me
say good-bye to my former husband,
Tom Walker.
This has been a...
(laughs): very difficult...
eight years.
And now finally we can...
give Tom the farewell he deserves.
Tom, uh, always said that Nick Brody
was his closest friend.
And Nick was with Tom
when he died.
Nick.
(blows landing, grunting)
Tom Walker was a good man.
A true Marine...
and the best shot I ever encountered, bar n...
Sorry.
Tom was the opposite of pretentious,
whatever that is.
Humble?
He just wanted to get the job done and get back to his family.
(sniffles)
Staff Sergeant Calhoun?
CALHOUN: Present!
BRODY: Private First Class
Fernandez?
Present!
Private First Class Wakefield?
Present.
Captain Faber?
Present!
Private First Class Green?
Present.
Corporal Walker?
Corporal Thomas Walker?
Corporal Thomas...
Patrick...
Walker.
(sighs)
Good service. Yeah, it was really good.
Will you excuse me?
I'll be back in a minute, all right? Mm-hmm.
Okay. Okay? All right.
CARRIE: Sergeant Brody?
Yeah?
Hey. That must have been hard.
Yeah.
Hey, I hate to do this right now,
but my bosses
kind of insist.
We need you to come out to Langley to take a polygraph.
Why?
I'm afraid that's classified.
Can you come out today?
Is this to do with Hamid?
I can't say. I'm sorry.
Well, I got to go back to the reception.
They're having it at my house.
Oh, um...
how about tomorrow?
10:00 a.m.?
Okay.
Faisel's got a woman with him-- maybe a girlfriend,
maybe a wife, maybe just a cohort.
She's Caucasian, mid-20s,
blond hair, blue/green eyes,
depending who you talk to.
Caucasian? Yep.
What do we know about her? Nothing.
We lifted a bunch of fingerprints
from the house-- we're hoping at least
one of them will be hers and that we'll be able to I.D. her.
Hey, can we change gears for a second?
When this is all over,
I'd like to go back to the field.
I thought you were done with the field.
Mira's been offered a job
heading up the Red Cross in India,
and Ed Welles retires in a few months,
so, you know, I thought... You thought
you'd end your illustrious career
as the New Delhi Station Chief.
Who said anything about ending my illustrious career?
I'll take it up to the seventh floor.
Thanks.
Sir. Yeah?
Faisel's license plate.
Toll booth on I-70 caught it.
Where on I-70?
20 miles west of Baltimore.
SAUL: When? WOMAN: Five hours ago.
Well, if they stayed on I-70, they should be somewhere
around Columbus, Ohio, by now.
Alert the Ohio State Police. We also
have a photo of Faisel and the girl
SAUL: Run her face through the databases. Also see if
that fancy new face-recognition software gets us anything.
Also try and match her face to anyone who popped up because of fingerprints.
Raqim?
We're here.
This is it?
You sure?
This is where they said we'd be safe.
FAISEL: They said they'd meet us here?
They said to sit tight and they'd contact us.
(insects chittering)
Wait! Don't open the door. FAISEL: What?
- Why? Why? - Don't open the door. Close that, close that gently.
Gently.
Get back in the car.
(engine starts)
(tires screech)
(panting) Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck.
We're okay. Oh, fuck. You keep saying that!
Because it's true!
You sure there was a bomb?
I could see the trigger-- pressure-released.
Open the door and boom-- very simple and very effective.
What? How do you know this shit?
They... they-they trained me.
They trained you?!
You never told me that! Does it matter?
Yes, it does matter!
We are supposed to be in a relationship!
We are supposed to be honest with each other!
We should turn ourselves in.
And spend the rest of our lives being interrogated
in some offshore torture chamber?
We haven't actually broken any law.
They can't hold us forever. Tell that to the guys in Guantanamo.
(panting)
We got to get rid of this car.
(exhales)
MEN (rapping): * I'm not dealing with another fuckin' politic *
♪ I'm like a skillet bubblin' until it filters up ♪
♪ I'm about to kill it, I can feel it ♪
♪ Building up, blow this buildin' up, I've been ♪
♪ Sealed enough, my cup runneth over ♪
♪ I done filled it up, the pen explodes and busts ♪
♪ Ink spills my guts, you think all I do is stand here... ♪
(rap continues in distance)
Helen?
Yes?
I'm so sorry.
Oh, thank you.
No.
I'm sorry I was such a bitch to you
when you decided to marry Matt.
Oh, Jessica, you were just
holding on to Brody, that's all.
You didn't want to let him go.
And see?
You were right.
Here he is.
♪ ...Hear my voice till you're sick of it ♪
♪ You ain't gonna have a choice ♪
♪ If I gotta scream until I have half a lung ♪
♪ If I have half a chance, I'll grab it ♪
♪ Rabbit run!
(laughter, whooping)
(chatter, laughter)
(laughter)
(indistinct chatter)
Hey, hey, to Tom Walker.
ALL: To Tom Walker.
What went on over there, Nick?
How'd you and Walker get hit?
Well... (clears throat)
...we were dug in.
You know, uh, next thing I know,
we're taking fire from all sides and, uh...
and we ate dirt and prayed.
They were waiting for you.
Somebody screwed up.
Somebody always screws up.
Rear echelon motherfuckers.
Mm-hmm.
You are so full of shit, Brody.
Lauder, shut the fuck up.
No, no,
I think it's important
to state for the record,
in case anybody's wondering, which they're not...
but hey,
the record's the record--
Brody is full of shit.
Right up to his fucking eyeballs.
It's always good sharing a beer with you, Lauder.
Exactly when did Wild Man Brody
become a dick- sucking war hero,
trotted out by the brass
so all the fucking morons in this country
could have something to feel good about,
so they'd stop asking: What's the point,
what the fuck are we even doing in Iraq and Afghanistan?
And when did you, who once told me
you just wanted to come back in one piece,
become the Boy Scout poster boy for fucking recruitment,
suckering another couple thousand boys
from fucking Indiana
and the Bronx to go out and get
their fucking legs blown off?
What happened to you?
Here's my question:
how come Walker died and you came back alive?
What's that about?
Huh, what's that about?
Luck, Lauder,
that's what it's all about--
good luck and bad luck.
I'm glad you brought up the subject of luck.
Mike, you got anything
to say about that, you being an expert on luck and all?
You're such an asshole.
Can I be honest?
I'll be honest.
Why not?
We're all compadres, right,
brothers in arms and all that crap?
While you were away, there's not a man here
who didn't want to bend your wife over the sink
and fuck her up the ass.
You son of a bitch.
(punching)
Come on, come on.
(grunting)
You were my friend.
(grunting)
(panting)
Brody.
Fuck.
(tires screeching)
Meet Aileen Margaret Morgan.
28 years old, brown hair, sometimes dyed blondish,
blue eyes, five- five, 110 pounds.
This photo was taken six years ago
when she was arrested protesting outside
a G-8 meeting in Edinburgh. The one to the right
was taken six months ago for her current driver's license.
Somehow she made the journey from Connecticut schoolgirl
to terrorist's girlfriend
involved in a plot against America.
How?
Why?
Dig into her history.
Where did she grow up, where did she go to school,
who were her friends, where and when did she meet Faisel?
All of it. Anything more about the car?
I want every cop
on the eastern seaboard looking for that damn thing.
Sir? Yeah.
I'm sorry to bother you, but it's...
What? Spit it out, spit it out.
It's time, sir.
Anybody know what he's talking about?
I think it's time for your polygraph.
Polygraph?
I don't have time for a fucking polygraph.
It's all right, Saul, you'll be fine.
If anything comes up, I'll come and get you.
You're not gonna miss anything important.
Please help me out here.
This is how we're going to get Brody.
Look for any contacts overseas, especially in the Middle East.
School, exchange programs,
graduate school, kibbutz, anything.
This is the polygraph room, sir.
Oh, is that right? Hello, Larry.
Hello, Saul.
How's everything? Oh, just peachy.
Okay.
Would you hold that for me?
Thank you.
Could you hold this for me right here?
Born December 25, 1983, Houston, Texas.
Father is Owen Robert Morgan,
mother is Abigail Sarah Lifeliter.
RAKOR vice president.
He ever work in the Middle East?
Saudi Arabia, 1991 to '96.
Looks like he's a pretty big deal in the oil business.
Okay, so we've got a rich American girl
living in Saudi Arabia for five years
between the ages of eight and 13.
When did Faisel leave Saudi Arabia to study in the States?
1995.
So they overlapped by four years.
(sighs)
What happened, Aileen?
What did you see?
Is your name Saul Berenson?
For Christ's sake.
Is your name Saul Berenson?
(sighs) Yes.
Saul, calm down.
We've been through this before.
Take a deep breath, think of something pleasant.
Okay?
Okay. Okay.
Uh, do you live at 413 Circle Drive,
Washington, D.C.?
Yes.
There we go.
Much better.
Do you work for the Central Intelligence Agency?
Yes.
Is your office on the fifth floor?
Yes.
Are you planning on telling the truth today
about Afzal Hamid and the razor blade?
Yes.
Did you pass Afzal Hamid a razor blade?
No.
Saul.
You got to relax or we'll be here all night.
I can't be here all night.
We've got an emergency going on out there.
The real world will not wait
for these bureau- fucking-cratic idiocies.
(sighs)
We'll finish it tomorrow.
(sighs)
Saul. (door slams)
Where'd she go after Princeton?
Jordan-- the Peace Corps.
How long? Two years.
Do any traveling while she was there?
Uh, Egypt, Lebanon-- oh, here we go--
SaArabia, March 22 to March 30, 2004.
Any overlaps with Faisel?
March 26 to 27, 2004.
Faisel visits his grandmother.
Aileen Morgan and Raqim Faisel met somewhere
between 1991 and 1996
in Saudi Arabia.
They reacquainted themselves there March 26 to 27,
also in Saudi Arabia.
They were childhood friends.
That was fast.
I got to go back, finish tomorrow.
I figured you might need me out here.
(sighs)
A naive, weak-willed American rich girl falls madly in love
with a Saudi engineer who happens to be a terrorist.
Sacrifices all to be with him and help fulfill his mission,
whatever the fuck that is.
Sound convincing?
Why hasn't she cracked
at least a little bit,
called her parents, run away, something?
Things are getting pretty hairy for an amateur.
Maybe we've got it backwards.
Maybe she's the one driving this.
She's the terrorist?
(phone rings)
Carrie here.
It's me--
Brody.
Yeah, y-y-you gave me your number.
Should I hang up?
What's wrong?
(sighs)
I can't do the polygraph tomorrow.
Why not?
I just can't, I'm a mess.
I've had the worst fucking day.
I could tell them my name and it would sound like a lie.
Where are you?
♪
(clears throat)
♪ And I just don't need you
♪ Hangin' 'round
♪ Take your advice, your so-called wisdom... ♪
Oh, you didn't have to come.
Uh, I'll have whatever he's having.
Bourbon, straight bourbon.
Okay.
What's the difference, I always wondered.
Straight's been aged for two years in charred oak barrels.
Ugh, still tastes like gasoline to me.
(both chuckle)
What happened to your hand?
I decked my best friend.
Ouch.
Hurts like a motherfucker, excuse my French.
Uh, I was talking about your friend.
Don't-- he's an asshole.
Want to tell me about it?
You ever been married by any chance?
Nope. Why not?
It just hasn't felt right quite yet.
Or as important as what I do for a living.
Plus the guy I was seeing when I left for Iraq decided
I wasn't worth the wait.
Nice. Eh, I can't say I really blame him.
I mean... (laughs)
...it's not like I was Little Miss Faithful over there.
(chuckles)
Hey, if you don't slow down,
I'm never gonna be able to catch up.
How come, when I met you at the safe house the other day,
you pretended like we hadn't bumped into each other
at the, uh, support group?
Oh, that.
Yeah, that.
You mean aside from the fact that I'm not supposed
to get help from counselors outside the agency?
Is there another reason?
I don't know.
Standing there that night in the rain.
I figured, who else had to know?
What?
(laughs)
I like it when life is like that.
Like what, wet?
Heightened somehow.
When I was a girl, my friends and I used to play chicken
with the train on the tracks near our house,
and no one could ever beat me, not even the boys.
(clicks tongue)
(sighs)
(slurring): I can't stand the Wizards.
What kind of name is that anyway for a basketball team--
the Wizards?
What are they, like, magicians in hoods?
(both laughing)
Redskins? (gasps)
I love the Redskins. Me, too.
No, I grew up on the Redskins.
My father thought he was a Redskin.
He used to take me to games in the freezing cold.
One time we wore sleeping bags.
(laughs)
We climbed in, we zipped 'em up.
All you could see was our eyes.
You have great eyes.
Thank you.
Kind of secretive.
Ah, comes with the job.
Secretive eyes-- it's a requirement,
Yeah? Really.
Oh, Jesus, we drank too much.
Yeah, we did.
Oh, I hope I don't puke.
You're gonna puke?
No. You all right?
I'm half Irish. The Irish don't puke?
(laughing): Nah, only when we have to salute the British.
(both laughing)
(laughter)
This is me.
Want to know what it's all about?
The polygraph?
I thought that was classified.
It is.
Hamid's dead.
Someone slipped him a razorblade in the safe house.
Slit his wrists.
So...
(moaning)
(both panting)
(Carrie moaning)
(moaning)
(both moan)
(both panting)
♪ Will I ever catch a break?
♪ That's when I remember
♪ He's the one I have to fake 'cause I got... ♪
Any more secrets you want to share, huh?
What else don't I know?
Can't hear the song.
How can you just sit there listening to wailing cowboys
when our lives are falling apart?
I need to relax. I can't think straight if I don't relax.
No, what we need is a fucking plan.
What if we went to Mexico?
No. We should turn ourselves in. No.
Yes, we can ask for protective custody.
I'd rather die.
♪ Don't sweat the little things... ♪
Yeah? Well, you're going to.
(sighs)
I got to pee.
♪ And pulled out a .45
♪ Well, that's when people started to scramble ♪
♪ I saw a child in the front
(sighs)
♪ Without thought, I told the children ♪
♪ As the stranger fired his gun ♪
♪ And I thought, Lord, I thank you... ♪
(dog barking)
(gunfire)
(gasps)
(panting)
(silverware clinking)
You're awake.
Jet lag, I guess.
I got some good news.
Hmm. Do you want some tea?
Tea? Sure.
Thanks.
Oh.
I've put in for the New Delhi station.
Ed Welles retires in a few months.
I believe I've got Estes' backing.
Take the new job.
I can come with you.
I don't want you to come with me.
What?
I want to go alone.
I need to go alone.
Why?
I just do.
For how long?
I-I don't know.
A week?
I don't know.
A month?
What?
I don't know.
(sighs)
New job?
Just a ploy?
Your way of letting me down gently?
Saul...
we're like good friends sharing a house.
You do the dishes, I water the garden.
You are watching football, I watch cooking shows.
You play golf, I do yoga.
Sounds perfect.
Come on. We're late.
Come on.
Have a good day at school, sugar bunny.
Right.
JESSICA: Dana.
(car doors close)
(car engine starts)
LARRY: Did you go to college?
SAUL: Yes.
LARRY: Did you major in Political Science?
SAUL: Yes.
Have you ever sold secrets to an agent of another country?
SAUL: No.
LARRY: Are you married?
No, not really.
LARRY: Yes or no?
I don't know, Larry.
Okay?
Maybe yes, maybe no.
Technically?
Technically, yes.
LARRY: Did you give
Afzal Hamid a razorblade?
No.
That's it.
You're free.
Oh.
I hope I never see you again.
Oh, you will.
Thanks, buddy.
(sighs)
Trouble at home.
It'll blow over.
Brody next?
Brody's next.
Assuming he shows up.
This is it, Saul.
Finally.
Let's hope.
LARRY: Come on in, Sergeant Brody.
Just stand over here.
This won't take long.
Can you just, uh, take your jacket off?
You can put it on the chair there.
(sniffles)
SAUL: Oh...
(sighs)
(exhales)
LARRY: Okay.
Now, just relax
and answer all the questions
honestly, yes or no.
All set? Mm-hmm.
Okay.
Is your name Nicholas Brody?
Yes.
Are you a member of the U.S. Marine Corps?
Yes.
Do you intend to tell the truth here today?
Yes.
Have you ever sold secrets to a foreign government?
No.
LARRY: Have you ever been arrested?
BRODY: Yes. I borrowed my dad's Pontiac one time.
I was 15 years old.
Have you ever been arrested for a felony?
No.
Have you ever killed a man?
Yes.
Did you pass Afzal Hamid a razorblade?
No.
Do you live at
3319 West Chapman Street?
BRODY: Yes.
LARRY: Are you sometimes called Nick?
BRODY: Yes.
LARRY: Is Boston the capital of Massachusetts?
BRODY: Yes.
LARRY: Do you know Afzal Hamid?
BRODY: Yes.
LARRY: Did you meet him in Syria?
Yes.
Did you slip him a razorblade?
No.
Ask him again.
Did you slip
Afzal Hamid a razorblade?
No.
Ask him if he's ever been unfaithful to his wife.
Go on, ask him.
LARRY: Have you ever been unfaithful to your wife?
No.
Okay, Larry, wrap it up.
Thank you, Sergeant Brody.
That it? We all done?
LARRY: We're all done.
He's lying.
He passed the polygraph.
Same one you and I take and flub every time.
Or at least I do.
(sighs)
It's... It's over.
Man is clean.
Saul...
You can't deny the facts--
what we just witnessed--
just 'cause you find them inconvenient.
(sighs)
So...
now we know
that Sergeant Brody's been faithful to his wife.
Question:
Why do we care?
What was that all about?
(sighs)
Get in.
(car door bell dings)
(tires squeal)
Sync & corrected by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com