CAPSHAW: I'm 1.5 centimeters from the LAD.
Entering aneurysm now.
Extracting intracavitary
thrombus.
Got it.
MARTIN: Well done.
Beautiful work, Doctor.
And now a purse-string suture?
CAPSHAW: And endocardial patch.
And then, a celebratory drink.
I think...
Scotch.
You know, there are only one or two
doctors in the world capable
of what you're doing right now.
Stop buttering me up.
I'm lucky to have a partner like you.
No, I deserve no credit.
This is all you, Vivian.
You are brilliant.
And anyone who can't see that is a fool.
Really?
-Brilliant. -(echoes): I'm brilliant?
MARTIN: And you know it, too.
This is your destiny, Doctor.
You... finding me here.
This was supposed to happen.
(monitor beeping rapidly)
This was supposed to happen.
(monitor flatlines)
(gasps)
What the hell is the matter with me?
♪ ♪
Morning, Mother.
(gasps) Malcolm!
What are you doing here?
In my loft?
Where I live?
I thought you were sleeping.
I didn't hear you scream.
(sighs)
I don't always wake up screaming.
Don't you?
What are you doing here
and what is all this?
Oh, I was just...
fetching some things from the Never Ever Room.
Help me.
(chuckles) I thought the whole point
of the Never Ever Room was
to shut away Dad's belongings so you never had to see them again.
Well, it was.
But once I committed to do that book,
I'm gonna do it right.
Even if that means some PTSD memory orgy.
Well, it's funny.
You are dredging up the past
while I'm ignoring The Surgeon altogether.
Hallelujah.
No wonder you look so rested.
Well, I can't say going cold turkey has been
a pleasant experience.
He's been calling... nonstop.
Darling, you need a reframe.
Your father is not an addiction.
You are not cutting out nicotine or, God forbid, benzos.
You are cutting out
a malignant tumor.
-Got it. -Aw!
This is a good thing.
You are freeing yourself to move on
with your life, finally give up
all this murder nonsense.
Ah, okay.
A mother can dream.
But maybe you will have time
for some lucky girl out there.
I know you and...
Detective Powell have been...
close?
Less so these days.
That whole "covering up a murder" thing
has been a bit of a roadblock.
Oh.
(exhales)
Mother?
You have that look on your face.
What is it?
It's a bank key.
But your father never handled any of our accounts.
Well, why did he have it then?
I intend to find out.
(phone vibrating)
Oh, great. Detective Mom.
(line ringing)
Oh, I'm gonna be free.
I have a Bible study
for the faithful who are interested
in Exodus.
Exodus.
(line rings)
(dial tone)
-Oh, not again. -(lock buzzes, latch clicks)
Mr. David, I am guaranteed time
with a working phone-- now this one is clearly broken.
I've called my son countless times.
-None of them have gone through. -Phone's working
just fine, Martin. He's not picking up on you.
Well, then let's, uh, send him a text.
That might be more amenable to his generation anyhow.
I'll-I'll dictate and you type and...
Come now, Mr. David. I need, I need
to reach my son today. It's urgent.
No, it's urgent you get to the rec room.
Phone time is over and you have a busy day.
You don't even know the half.
Better get a move on.
And in the meantime, you'll, uh, you'll text my son?
I guess not.
Darryl getting out complicates Exodus.
We need to go today.
I told Martin.
He said no.
Has to be tomorrow.
Why?
Malcolm.
He's got to talk to him.
Give him some...
message before we escape.
Guy's passionate about family.
Brother Martin has many passions.
Fine.
We go tomorrow.
With or without him.
You just gonna ignore Willie?
Huh? Oh, nice to see you, too, Willie.
Must've been good to have company in solitary, right?
Yeah.
But I'm out now?
Soon as I clear you to return.
Hey, relax.
You'll be back with your friends in no time.
They're not my friends.
(monitor beeping)
CAPSHAW: No?
Why not?
They cut me out.
Put me in the hole.
Why would they do that?
You can trust me, Darryl.
They don't matter.
It's all about the good doctor.
I want the key cards, Darryl. Friar Pete!
This heathen has brought a weapon into the room!
Yo, he's a Judas! Don't trust him!
He's the true head of the snake.
(indistinct radio chatter)
Wow.
The Coronet's looking good.
Oh, no, you stay away.
I've had to rebuild her twice-- first because of you,
then because of your mother. No more Whitlys around my car.
How about Tarmels?
Come on.
DANI: Boys and toys,
I swear.
Thought we were here to solve a murder?
We are. The victim
is Rosalie Howard.
-Edrisa, what do you got? -Well, I'll tell you what I got.
Some major Japandi vibes, that's what.
I mean, look at this place.
Clean lines, soft minimalism, just a...
hint of rustic texture.
I wonder where she got that crystal...
GIL: This one isn't for sale.
It's our murder weapon.
Yes, yes. Right, murder.
Uh, cause of death-- blunt force trauma to the back of the skull.
Rosalie likely died after one blow.
But the killer kept bashing her head in, over
and over and over and over.
Overkill speaks to an impulse control disorder.
Inability to integrate emotional reactions with consequences.
Our killer snapped.
DANI: Yeah, but the struggle didn't start
till they were in here.
I'm guessing Rosalie knew her killer?
She wasn't yet fully dressed, but she still let him in.
They didn't just know each other.
-They were intimate. -JT: A crime of passion.
Exactly.
And the killer didn't have time to clean up.
Why?
Maybe he heard sirens?
Or someone else came in, interrupted him.
Report mentions an anonymous witness
called the station from a landline.
Who still has a landline?
-I have a-- Oh! -Old people.
JT: Nobody shoot.
I'll run a trace, find the witness.
BRIGHT: You don't have to.
There he is.
-GIL: Let's go. -(knocking)
NYPD. Open up!
Sir, what's going on in there?
MAN: Go away, please!
He's under duress.
On three, two...
Hello?
Sir?
JT: Landline's not the only thing old in this place.
Who lives here?
GIL: Gerald Morris, you remember him?
Chess grand master, Gerald Morris.
Yeah, he was a famous world champion in the '70s and '80s.
Until he disappeared.
Yeah, looks like he's good at that.
JT: Maybe he ran away.
These appliances are 30 years old,
at least.
He may be agoraphobic.
He's afraid to leave the house.
It's more than that. Agoraphobia
is a crippling anxiety disorder.
So Gerald isn't under duress.
And we need a warrant to be in here.
Exactly.
Okay.
Let's move out, folks.
(door closes)
(stairs creaking)
(exhales)
Nice digs.
You should not have come in here.
Who are you?
Why are you in my house?
Malcolm Bright, NYPD.
Adjacent.
I'm not a threat.
We only want to find out who killed Rosalie Howard.
You're gonna make me leave.
But I won't.
I won't do it. I won't!
You won't shoot me, either.
You don't know that.
Actually, I do.
Antique weapons are kind of my thing.
And this one won't fire.
The latch is broken,
which means the cylinder isn't locked.
(stammers softly)
How long have you been in here?
I haven't been outside since March...
...of '97.
24 years.
Which means you were here when Rosalie was murdered.
You saw it and called the police, didn't you?
-Yeah. -If I promise you won't have to leave,
will you tell the detectives what you saw?
I'm... (grunts)
not too good around people.
Okay. Uh...
How about just one detective, then?
Mr. Morris, did you know Rosalie?
No, we never met.
But you watched her.
What else do I have to do?
My entire life is that window.
What happens out there, it's better than the crap on TV.
Well, n-not that it works.
So, you watch everyone.
I'm no Peeping Tom, okay?
I have a right to look out
-m-my damn window. -(phone ringing)
Can you turn that off?
Uh-- The noise, it's so sharp.
And you, uh, coaster, please.
-Sorry. -Don't worry.
I watch people.
Rosalie fell in love about six months ago.
Tall fellow, brown hair.
Uh, a sharp dresser.
He always came around late.
Uh, too late, if you ask me. (chuckles)
DANI: Did Rosalie's boyfriend
-come over last night? -I heard a commotion
around 11:00.
It was all happening so fast,
I didn't get a clear look at the man's face,
but he was the same height, same hair.
He, uh, grabbed her, and the...
Well, you know the rest.
Do you still play chess, Gerald?
I-I don't see how that's relevant.
He'll bring it around.
You may not compete anymore,
but you still think like a grand master.
You were famous for learning your opponents' moves.
Their quirks and patterns.
I bet you do that with your neighbors, too.
See?
I do.
Uh, memory was always my gift.
I know more about this neighborhood than anyone.
Relationships, routines,
new jobs, cars.
Decades of it, locked inside my head.
So if we asked you what kind of car Rosalie's boyfriend drove...
Um, Porsche. Red.
Would you like the, uh, plate number, too?
(latch clicks)
(lock buzzes)
(door beeps, opens)
♪ ♪
(beeps)
(beeps, lock buzzes)
(beeps, latch clicks)
Boyfriend's name is Clayton Fielder.
License plate on his Porsche actually says "cum laude."
Called a vanity plate for a reason.
He graduated Yale with a 3.49 GPA.
He's rounding up.
So he's guilty of exaggerating, but is he our guy?
The profile fits. Clayton's an investment banker.
Working hundred-hour weeks in a high-pressure environment
-could cause anyone to snap. -(phone vibrating)
That is the fifth Martin call you've declined.
What's up?
I'm doing a serial killer cleanse.
He doesn't know that.
GIL: I think it agrees with you.
Looks like you got some sleep.
JT: I think we've got a problem.
Let's say Clayton did murder Rosalie.
Could we even get Gerald to court?
And if he did testify, what kind of witness would he be?
BRIGHT: A brilliant one.
Gerald's a genius.
Yeah, but he's messed up, too.
Come on, the guy is trapped in his house
watching people day in and day out.
It's kind of strange.
Agoraphobia often comes from trauma.
He can't erase whatever messed him up.
I know, but we're trying to build a bulletproof case.
That means reliable witnesses,
not some guy cursed to never leave his house.
He's not cursed.
Agoraphobia does not make Gerald an unreliable witness.
With his mind, he could be the best witness we ever had.
-(phone vibrates) -JT: Uh... (sighs)
Here we go.
My buddy in Midtown says
Fielder has a standing poker game
at the Sutton Social Club tonight.
Deal me in.
-(phone vibrating) -(sighs)
I'll be right behind you.
What?
My boy! Oh, finally.
I've been calling and calling. Are you all right?
Well, uh-- Don't answer that. Look, uh,
there is something I-I desperately need to say to you
-today. -No. Me first.
I can't have your voice in my head anymore.
The calls,
the talks.
They are sabotaging my personal life.
I need to take a break from you.
Kind of sounds like a cleanse. (clears throat)
Well, uh, look, i-it's never easy to, uh,
hear that your children are flying the coop,
but, uh, in a way,
it does dovetail quite nicely with my news.
I'm not listening to you. I'm done.
(dial tone)
(stammers) No!
That felt good.
No, no, no, no, no, no. I-I need to get him back.
Uh, Mr. David, please, I-I'm running out of time here.
-Yes, you are. -(phone beeps)
You can try again when you're back from the yard.
(shouts)
FRIAR PETE: Where are you, my lovelies?
Oh, there you are, my darlings.
(rats squeaking)
(whispers): What is he doing?
FRIAR PETE: Ooh...
You tasted the fruit
of the tree of knowledge, didn't you?
Only now do you realize it's poison.
(exhales)
(rats squeaking)
(line ringing)
Hang up the phone.
-(shouts) -(grunts)
-(groaning) -Stay down,
or I really start kicking you.
I'm calling security!
-To tell them what? -Everything.
The-the traps, the stolen key card.
What the hell are you doing down here?
Hang up the phone, or I'll tell them about Martin.
(chuckles)
What do you mean?
You and Dr. Whitly, sowing the seeds of sin
in your unlawful carnal knowledge.
What?
(laughs) "The eyes of the Lord are in every place."
Your penance will be grave.
Martin goes in the hole, you get fired.
It's your choice, of course.
(laughs)
♪ ♪
(laughing)
You can't honestly think Mr. Fielder killed his girlfriend.
Rosalie was everything to me. We were in love.
That doesn't mean you didn't snap.
What are those scars from, Clayton?
A car wreck. Why?
GIL: He's wondering if you've been
in previous domestic disputes.
I am, too.
An eyewitness saw a man fitting your description kill Rosalie.
GRIMES: My client was at work all night.
CLAYTON: Your eyewitness,
was it that creep across the street?
The lurker?
He watched her all the time. She hated it.
Gerald never leaves his house. He's never even met Rosalie.
That's a lie. She confronted him a month ago.
-What? -I wanted to call the cops,
but Rosalie ran over there
and told him to stop watching.
Kid.
Yeah, I'll go.
Why did you lie to me, Gerald?
And here I thought you just wanted
to play a friendly game.
I do.
But you're keeping secrets.
About your past.
-About Rosalie. -As are you.
Unless you've told Detective Powell how you feel?
(laughs softly)
BRIGHT: My life isn't your soap opera, Gerald.
Besides, there's nothing to tell.
We're friends.
Partners.
Your poker face is about as good as your chess game.
Fess up,
and... I'll do the same.
Dani doesn't know how I feel, and she never will.
For her own safety.
Mm. Sounds lonely.
(laughs softly)
Tactical empathy. Classic.
Not your best move.
You've spent your life mastering a game, Gerald.
I've spent mine mastering how people think.
You lied to me about knowing Rosalie.
Who's to say you haven't been lying about your agoraphobia?
Maybe it's just a cover for voyeurism.
You watched Rosalie.
You frightened her.
Check. Did you kill her?
I told you, it's-it's not like that.
This is the real world, Gerald!
BTK, Bundy.
The most notorious serial killers all started
as Peeping Toms.
You watched her day and night. You were obsessed.
Of course I was ob-obsessed,
but not with her.
W-With everyone.
What I see out that window,
it's the only connection I've got.
So you did know her.
She caught me watching.
She ran over, furious,
shouting into the intercom.
But... then she saw the bodega bags,
canned corn, soup.
And she started bringing me fresh groceries.
Rosalie helped...
an old grouch,
but I couldn't help her.
Not over there.
Something's wrong.
Someone's inside Rosalie's apartment, look.
BRIGHT: You're right.
I have to go.
♪ ♪
(line ringing)
DANI: Bright, what's up?
You're not gonna believe this.
Clayton Fielder isn't our killer, it's his twin.
-What? -(tires screech)
And... he's gone.
CAPSHAW: 60 beats per minute.
How are you so calm? Huh?
Pete's onto us.
-It's a disaster. -No, it's Tuesday.
Pete is a violent psychopath.
Which means he's not the first person anyone's gonna believe.
And his rodent fetish is probably, well...
Sexual?
-Oh, yeah, you bet. -Oh, God. Oh...
(Capshaw sighs)
There's no need to worry.
I promise you.
I'll get it all handled.
Even Pete.
What do you mean by that?
Vivian, you've changed my life.
Being a doctor again...
I feel like Picasso rediscovering rose.
You're my muse.
You've done so much for me.
Please...
let me do this... for you.
(softly): Okay.
I think you'll like the results.
If last time was any indication, just imagine what I can do
-without these. -Tempting.
But I'm not going to unlock you.
(latch clicks, door opens)
Oh. And here I thought I was the only woman
to grace The Surgeon's cell.
Uh, Dr. Capshaw.
-This is my wife... -(Jessica clears throat)
Ex-wife, Jessica.
Delighted! (forced chuckle)
I do hope there's something wrong with him.
No.
No, he's as healthy as a horse.
Not for long.
Leave him in one piece for me, would you?
Good help is so hard to find these days.
(door opens)
(door closes)
Jessie, thrilled as I am by this...
unexpected visit, I have a very busy day,
-so I have so many calls... -I don't care, Martin.
(scoffs)
You've got a secret.
Go on, cough it up,
or I will choke that secret out of you.
Well, that sounds like fun.
(scoffs)
(exhales) Do you remember this?
Your little key?
Well, perhaps if you hand it over,
-I could be of more assistance. -You'd like that, wouldn't you?
What does this key unlock, Martin?
Is it money?
Murder trophies?
Isn't it obvious?
It's the key to my heart.
-(groans) -You've had it all along.
Tell me about...
The key, the key! Who knows what it's to?
I-- that was so, so many years ago.
I mean, perhaps it, uh, opens a toy chest, or...
maybe a wardrobe to Narnia.
I can tell when you're lying.
Not historically.
You would not need to be so vague
if you did not have something to hide.
Why fish for trouble, Jess?
Life is good! Look at us.
You're...
thriving.
-Mm. -My Filofax
hasn't been this full in years.
And so is my day-- so I'm afraid
-our little tête-à-tête will have to wait. -You're cheery.
What are you up to?
Me?
Absolutely nothing.
MARTIN: Oh, I'm just a rat in a cage.
What could I possibly be plotting?
Oh, I don't know.
Something with that beautiful doctor
you've been working with?
Oh, don't let jealousy cloud your judgment, Jess.
Now you're just trying to wind me up.
(whispers): Tell me what you're up to.
Well, what would be the fun in that?
MARTIN: You can crack this case yourself.
(singsongy): Follow the clues, Nancy Drew.
There's an emergency in the infirmary, Martin.
They need you.
Well, what could that be about?
Jessica,
I trust you'll be able to see yourself out.
-Duty calls. -(keys jangling)
(handcuffs clicking)
GIL: A twin? Really?
It's the only explanation for what I saw.
Says the man who suffers from chronic sleeplessness,
delusions...
How do you know about my delu...
Forget it.
(chuckles) Thought you said something else.
That's funny.
Looks like Bright really did see a double.
DEA confirms it.
Clayton Fielder has got a twin brother named Felix,
a known associate of the Morelia drug cartel.
-Well, look at that. -Turns out Clayton fled
the cartel ten years ago,
changed his name, removed his tattoos, the whole nine.
His brother Felix has been after him ever since.
So Felix came looking for Clayton,
found Rosalie instead.
Of course she let him right in.
When she didn't give up Clayton, he killed her.
Brave girl.
(sighs) Looks like Clayton is next.
JT, you and Dani find Clayton.
Bright, I need you back at Gerald's.
-We've got to convince him to... -Testify against Felix.
Which means he'll have to leave his house.
If anyone can get through to this guy, it's you.
(groaning, gagging)
-(grunting) -Need more help.
Turn him over.
I've never seen anything like this before.
What the hell happened?
Dysentery, I suspect.
You've seen the conditions in the cafeteria.
Look around. This is no accident.
Oh, my God. The boiler room.
What if Friar Pete was stealing the rat poison?
He could have put it in the food.
MARTIN: Anticoagulants?
The symptoms fit.
-(grunting) -CAPSHAW: These people
are internally bleeding.
I need more hands.
Nobody's dying today.
They've got us. We can work together.
Turn around.
You start triage over there.
I'll do this group.
Let's get to work.
Hello?
Is anybody here?
Check.
You helped solve a murder, Gerald.
You can handle...
a little deposition.
Impossible. You know I can't leave.
(softly): Yes, you can.
You don't have to be trapped in here.
This is your next move.
No, it's not.
Checkmate.
(all gagging, coughing)
CAPSHAW: This guy needs fluids.
-Uh, that was the last bag. -Here.
Go to the stockroom and get some more.
I'm calling them back.
God!
Vivian Capshaw.
Claremont Psychiatric. The-the storeroom's this way.
-(beeps, lock buzzes) -Martin, what are you doing?
Martin. Where are you going?
Martin! Stop!
Martin, stop!
-(lock buzzes) -What are you doing?!
Sorry.
I am.
It's not easy for me
-to leave all this behind. -No. Please.
Oh...
I believed you. No, don't go.
-(alarm blaring) -Family comes first.
No! Martin, stop!
Please, stop! Stop!
Stop!
(alarm continues blaring)
DANI: Gil?
-JT called. He found Clayton. -And?
His twin found him first, beat him half to death.
-Where's Felix now? -He wants to bring Clayton back home,
after he takes care of the witness.
Gerald?
But that means that Felix is heading towards...
Bright.
(phone vibrates)
Is that your phone?
That-- What did I-- I'm...
-I-I'm sorry, Gerald. -I mean...
That's a text, which means it's not my father.
It's Dani.
-We have to leave. -What? Why?
(gunshot)
Felix is here.
(gunshot)
What do we do?
Hide.
(gunshot)
(door thuds)
(alarm blaring)
Damn it.
Oh!
(screaming)
MARTIN: Oh, I'm just a rat in a cage.
What could I possibly be plotting?
Oh... Oh, my God.
Help. Help!
Someone, please help me!
The Surgeon is escaping!
(panting)
(shouts)
(whimpers, panting)
(phone vibrating)
Jess? It's good to hear from you, but I can't...
Gil, I am trapped at Claremont.
-What? -The guards are all gone,
the doors are all locked, and there are rats!
Something terrible is happening.
You were right to call me. Everything's gonna be fine.
You're not listening to me.
Martin is escaping.
Okay. Here's what I want you to do, Jess.
Find something to defend yourself with, then hide.
I'm on my way.
Oh, thank you. Thank you.
I know what you saw, old man.
But don't worry.
I'm not gonna do that to you.
Not if you come out now.
GERALD (whispering): This isn't happening.
(whispering): We can't stay here. We have to evade capture.
What's the move, Gerald?
The basement.
We'd be open targets. Try again.
There's a closet. Diagonal across the hall.
It's not big enough for both of us.
Gerald, we're in the endgame.
There's only one play for a pawn.
Get to the end of the board.
You mean, outside?
I can't. I can't.
It's now or never.
Blackmailing Dr. Capshaw, Friar?
How Christlike.
What would you know about it, Judas?
Shut up.
MAN: Let's move. This way.
Pharaoh's army approaches.
Get the restraints.
Secure the whole area!
Go, go! Move!
(alarm continues blaring)
(beeps, lock buzzes)
Oh...
-(door opens) -Oh.
You?
(gasps)
Wait, where have I seen you before?
You're The Surgeon's wife!
(laughing)
(forced laugh) Did-did Martin send you?
You're-you're, you're a friend of his?
No, nah. We hate The Surgeon.
We?
Yeah, me and Willie.
Oh.
Well, this is a misunderstanding,
'cause I hate Martin, too.
Despise the man, so we are on the same side.
Uh-huh. Fool me once,
shame on you.
Fool me twice...
(gasps)
...kill your wife.
-(alarm blaring) -(gasps)
What's that, Willie?
You hear that?
Willie's got a wicked imagination for hurting people.
Don't...
Don't you take another step.
Oh, really?
What's the pretty little lady gonna...
(screams)
(screaming)
(Darryl screams)
Uh, just one last piece of business to attend to.
Part of the plan, of course.
Rosalie was a nice girl.
I didn't want to hurt her.
All she had to do was tell me where my brother was.
Except she said they were in love.
(phone vibrating)
Where are you, old man?!
Wait, wait, wait.
Go.
-(door closes) -Stop.
♪ ♪
-Almost there. -I can't.
There are no other moves for me.
This isn't chess.
It's life.
And it's waiting for you outside.
Don't you think that's what Rosalie would've wanted for you?
(exhales): Yes.
This time, make the right choice.
(breath trembling)
(exhales)
What's our strategy?
(creaking overhead)
Run.
(exhales)
♪ Hey, now I've lost my way ♪
BRIGHT: Gerald!
♪ Penny for your thoughts ♪
♪ And a pound ♪
♪ For your flesh... ♪
(tires screeching)
-(crashing) -(tires screech)
(grunting)
(car door opens)
NYPD. Stay down.
♪ ♪
I see why you like her.
Jessica?
-(gasps) -You men, spread out.
That way.
It's okay. It's okay.
-You're okay. -No, I'm really not.
We're locking down Claremont. You're safe now.
Gil, if Martin is free,
no one is safe.
FRIAR PETE: Martin!
♪ Penny for your thoughts ♪
♪ And a pound ♪
♪ For your flesh... ♪
(sighs)
At last.
♪ Oh, never been less ♪
♪ ♪
So, how does it feel?
(inhales sharply)
(chuckles): Smells like garbage.
But I suppose some things never change.
I'm happy for you, Gerald.
That was big, what you just did.
Well, we lived to tell the tale.
Forge new relationships, all that hooey you were selling.
I meant every word.
Oh, yeah? Prove it.
(laughs softly)
Time for my move.
(phone vibrates)
MARTIN: My boy, um, I had hoped we could speak again,
but I don't have much time.
There are so many things to say.
But there's just one thing I need you to know.
I am not the man I used to be.
I'm not a killer anymore.
Whatever you hear, whoever tries to rattle your faith in me,
what I am about to do is not about murder.
No. This is about family.
Everything I'm doing, everything I've done,
it's all for you.
For us.
I hope you find me, son.
You're the only one who can.
Because we're the same.
Bright, have you heard?
What happened at Claremont?
Your father--
The Surgeon, he escaped.
♪ No, never been more ♪
♪ Never been less ♪
♪ Oh, never been less. ♪
Captioning sponsored by WARNER BROS. TELEVISION
And FORD. We go further, so you can.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org
MAN: Greg, move your head.