XIII: The Conspiracy Page #4

Assuming horizontal symmetry...

Xlll.

Xlll.

Whoever is responsible

for the recent attacks

also ordered the assassination.

They placed the two guards at the scene

with the intention of taking out

the shooter.

Why would they try to take out

their own accomplice?

Because if the shooter escaped,

or worse, was captured,

he could implicate the others.

They wanted to deliver us a trigger man.

They wanted the trail to end

with a dead body.

And the bomber?

Have you been able to identify him?

No. We're still waiting on

the DNA results.

But these photographs prove

my theory is correct.

That the shooter

is part of a larger network.

A network that contains

at least 15 conspirators.

These tattoos are not just body art,

they're a type of code system so that

the players can identify each other

without using names.

Have you shared this information

with anyone else?

Not yet, Sir.

I would like to release

a sketch of the shooter along

with the information about

the tattoos in the hopes

that it might identify the conspirators.

No. I think that's a mistake.

I mean, unless we have

some concrete evidence

I think the new information plus

any other findings

should be kept completely confidential.

I believe it's important to

release the information.

Mr. Wax is right.

We need hard evidence, Colonel,

not conjecture and conspiracy theories.

Releasing this information to the public

will only set us up for more criticism

if we don't deliver the shooter.

Now I don't have to remind you that

the American public go to

the pools next week.

If this administration is to survive

we need to

give the people what they want

justice.

Is that understood?

Yes, Mr. President.

General Carrington.

Walk with me.

I placed a unit at every subway station

and bus stop within a five-mile radius.

Nothing yet.

He's probably gone underground.

No way he'd show his face in public.

It doesn't make sense.

He saw me.

I looked into his eyes and he ran.

No.

After what happened at the drop

you think he still trusts us?

I know this is painful for you, Lauren,

but if he wanted to make contact

he'd have done it by now.

No it's something else. Has to be.

Keep me posted.

Yes, Sir.

Why do you have so much money, Steve?

He's down.

Good. You're awake.

We can begin.

Julius Caesar was once asked

which death is preferable to every other?

His answer..."The unexpected."

Unfortunately for you,

your death today will be anything but.

But the human body can surprise you.

A man can lose forty percent

of his blood

before he goes into organ failure.

In fact, he won't even know he's dying

because of the reduced

level of consciousness.

Which is why, my friend,

God invented pain.

Pain serves as a warning.

Let's you know

there's something not right.

We're going to get acquainted,

you and me.

Just you wait.

I can make three minutes

feel like an eternity.

You caused me a whole lot of trouble.

After what happened

I thought you would disappear.

But it takes money to be invisible.

Doesn't it, lucky number Xlll?

That's not my name.

Sorry, Mr. Rowland.

You should have died that night.

It would have made things a whole

lot better for both of us.

It's tough living the life

of a ghost isn't it?

How would you know?

I'm a ghost too.

There's only two ways for this to end:

One is quick and easy.

The other is slow and painful.

Either way we're going to

get what we want, so

the choice is yours.

What do you want?

T ell us who you've spoken to.

I don't know.

I'm going to ask again.

T ell me who you've spoken to.

Look, man,

I don't even know who you are.

You did your job now I'm doing mine.

Number 1 doesn't like loose ends.

Come on, you always knew

this was bigger than us.

Sacrifice the pawn for the king.

Now tell me who you've spoken to.

I told you. I don't remember.

I'll leave you with Mr. Cody.

Maybe he can jar your memory.

Morphine. Enough of it to kill a man.

That's the one you'll be begging for.

Tell me what I need to hear

and maybe I'll oblige you.

The second one is adrenaline in case

you pass out from the pain.

Friend, I have enough to

keep you conscious for days.

Any questions?

He'll talk.

He better talk.

Otherwise we will have to consider

this operation compromised.

He'll talk.

Trust me, my man can be

quite persuasive.

Alone at last.

We'll start with your eyelids.

That way you won't miss a thing.

What the...?

Stop the truck.

Hey, you okay?

Can I help you?

Nice lamination.

Agent Lauren Jones.

Central Intelligence Agency.

If you want me

to hand over customer photos

I need to see a warrant.

That's not why I'm here.

We traced some suspicious

Internet activity to your I P address.

It appears someone used

one of your computers

to compromise national security.

Get out! That is so cool.

Ma'am, this is serious.

Look, we have

four self-service computers.

Customers are on them all day.

Checking e-mails, surfing the web,

hacking into the NSA.

CIA.

Right. I don't monitor usage.

You don't remember who used

those computers this morning?

It would have been just after opening.

Around nine fifteen.

I really don't know.

It was swamped this morning.

You don't remember a man?

Caucasian, medium height, buzz cut.

Handsome.

Handsome I would remember. Sorry.

Thank you for your time.

You're welcome.

Sam?

Hey.

Oh! What's the matter?

Was it the wrong address?

No I went to Kim's apartment.

She wasn't there.

I got to get going.

I just came for the chip

that I left with you.

The chip.

My friend took a look at it and freaked.

Said he wouldn't touch it.

Why?

It's shadow encrypted.

National security stuff.

He said if he tried to

open it the government

would trace it back to him.

First I thought he was messing with me.

But then, like, an hour later,

this lady shows up at the shop.

Black chick. Says she's CIA.

What did she want?

She said someone tried to

access some government files

from one of my computers.

They traced it back to the shop.

I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry for

getting you involved in this.

In what?

I don't know. But I'm not

about to drag you into it.

I'm sorry.

Hold on.

I have something to show you.

The tattoo on your chest, .

I looked it up online.

The design dates back to Ancient Rome.

Some general in the South Asian

colonies tries to stage a coup.

All of the conspirators

were branded with tattoos.

Number on their body so

they know who is loyal to the cause.

It was a secret society,

with a hierarchy.

The foot soldiers

were the higher numbers.

The architects of the coup were

the lower ones right down to Number 1.

The man in charge.

...now I'm doing mine.

Number 1 doesn't like loose ends.

...but because of your bravery

we no longer live in fear...

Hey, you okay?

Yeah.

I meant what I said earlier.

I want to help.

I keep seeing these things.

What things?

These images.

I don't know if they're real,

if they're dreams.

Maybe it's your memory coming back.

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