If anyone can help us crack this virus, it's Professor Waters.
Okay, and if he can't, I say we just forget the whole thing, you know?
-What? -Just pretend like it never even happened.
Owen, this isn't like global warming. You can't just wish it away.
So...
after befriending the locals in the remote Nepalese village,
the elders permitted me to excavate their ancient farmland, but...
how was I able to find these intact viral samples
that had dated back for millennia?
Anyone?
Anyone at all?
Well, perhaps my former student, Dr. Spratt,
can help us out here.
What do you say, Lola?
How was I able to find
these intact tissue samples?
-Because you searched... -In your *. Please say in your *.
-Because you searched... -In your butt. Please say in your butt.
Shut up.
-...above the permafrost. -Above the permafrost.
Dr. Lola Spratt, everyone.
Oh, my God. Thank you.
All right. Thank you, class. That'll be all.
Please don't forget to read chapter two: Clinical Signs of Advanced Pathogenesis.
It is a real page turner, and I don't say that just because
I happen to be the author.
You know, it feels like only yesterday,
we were sequencing Ebola over tea and croissants.
I'm so sorry. Dr. Richard Waters, professor of virology.
Oh, I'm sorry. Dr. Owen Maestro, surgeon of children.
- So, how long have you two been married? - What?
-Oh, no. -Ew.
-No way! No. Not us. -Uh-uh. Uh-uh!
-No. We work together... -Gross.
...at a children's hospital, Childrens Hospital.
Caring for children. That's the real work.
Wish I had the stomach for it, but...
I've always been more comfortable with my tush perched up on a stool
and my nose behind the microscope.
-Yes, you have. -I must say, Lola,
that's where I always assumed your nose would end up, too.
In his tush?
So, what brings you two here today?
Well, we need your help, Professor. Something bad has happened.
Very bad.
Like really...
bad.
Well, I'd hoped I would never live to see this day.
September 24th?
A day when a man-made virus would threaten all mankind.
-Let's look on the screen. -What are we looking for, Professor?
Well, if the São Paulo virus is man-made,
it should bear some of man's imperfections,
his foibles, his ego.
-What do you see right there? -A portion of the lipid envelope,
-but it looks torn. -Not torn.
Cut with a minute and precise incision.
But why would someone do that?
To claim credit.
What do you see right there?
Letters.
M. R. N.?
Matteo Roberto Neri.
A master of viral manipulation and bioterror.
I remember reading about him in school.
He's the one that engineered that hemorrhagic monkey-pox outbreak
that brought Namibia to its knees.
The rumor was he'd accidentally infected himself with one of his hideous creations.
Many people believed he was dead, others weren't so sure.
The vast majority actually have no opinion on the subject whatsoever.
If he is alive, though, you'll never be able to find him.
Well, then what are we supposed to do?
Everything you need is right up there.
-Boop! -Okay, well that's all well and good,
but if our one lead is impossible to find--
Here it is, 1999 he checked himself into a hospital in Florence, Italy.
- No record of him ever checking out. - Okay.
Well, let's go to Florence, Italy and check out those medical records,
and then afterwards to celebrate
we can get some of their famous spaghetti and meatballs.
-Mmm. -Mm-hmm.
I'm afraid I must go.
There's a dean's coffee in the Founder's Quad.
-Oh. -It's been so lovely seeing you again.
-Yes. -Good luck,
but you must promise me you'll be careful out there.
Remember what happened to the last two doctors
who went searching for an infamous bioterrorist.
Never heard of them.
Exactly.
I would love to hear about them at some point.
I mean, that's exactly what we're doing.
So, Italy's most sensitive medical files are all kept in there, huh?
Yup. I didn't count on all the guards, though.
Shouldn't be a problem.
-How we going to get around them? -I got an idea. Come on!
Okay, what have you got?
Shit!
You just have Scotch tape in your pocket?
Yeah.
You've had it in your pocket this whole time?
Yeah.
-In Berlin, you had it? -Yeah.
-And then in Dartmouth, you had it? -Yup.
-Then here in Italy, you had it? -Right again.
-Wait. Jumping out the plane, you had it? -Yeah.
-Okay. Stand back. -Okay.
Hi-ya!
Oh, cool.
Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God.
Maybe you should've made the hole a little bit bigger?
Ow, ow, ow.
Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.
-I'm in. -Okay.
I'm in.
-Just act like you work here. -Okay.
Hello. Cold one, huh? I work here.
Oh, hello. I work with you also.
Okay.
-Key card. -What?
Get the key card.
Just unclip it from the pocket.
I'm in.
Where is it?
In exactly three minutes
she's going to figure out her card is missing and come looking.
-Where'd you get that number? -Two minutes, 56 seconds.
Whatever you say.
Where are we? Okay! Look.
It's right here.
Neri's file's got to be in here somewhere.
Don't you just love that old paper smell? There's so much history in here.
Let's see if Marco Polo really drowned in a pool.
Hey! I got it! I got Neri's file.
Okay, I got it. Ah, let's see.
-Hey, look. Italian Playboy. -Owen.
-What? -The light.
Come on. Let's go.
-Owen! -I'll come back for you, girls.
Yup, Neri accidentally infected himself in '99.
He was quarantined for months.
What an idiot.
Well, this says he needs daily injections
of an experimental and highly risky antiviral treatment.
You can't find this stuff anywhere. It was outlawed years ago.
So, we find who gives him the meds,
-we find Neri. -Yeah.
It's locked!
I'm in.
-Only one way out. -Let's do this.
-Three... -Three...
-Two... -Two...
-One. -One.
Shit.
I've never seen someone die before.
God, oh, my God.
Fuck! Holy shit!
Holy shit!
-That was badass. -Yeah, that was a really good job.
-That was total badass! -Yeah.
Holy shit! Holy shit!
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
To the airport, please.
Si, signore
-Is anybody following us? -No, I think we're good.
-Okay. -I bet you they saw
how hard it was to hit that mattress
-and they just gave up. -Yeah.
-So where to now? -Well...
there's one underground clinic where people with enough money
could go to get the kind of illegal treatment that Neri needed.
It's in Africa.
Really? Africa?
Okay, driver. Turn the car around. We're going to Africa, please.
Excuse me,
can I see your clearance?
What's important is that
our people are working directly with local biohazard response teams
in each outbreak city.
Sir? It's Senator Barney for you.
Barney?
What? Tell her... I'm in a meeting.
No, no, she'll never buy that.
Oh...
* it! Put her on.
Senator, how are you?
Have you seen the latest casualty numbers?
Yes, ma'am. Two hundred and thirty-seven infected.
And two hundred and twenty-eight of them are dead.
But how lucky are those nine survivors, huh?
Oh, wow! Nine whole survivors.
I guess they-- Maybe they should start their own baseball team.
Well, they're still very ill, ma'am,
but we could start designing uniforms, get things organized,
but I wouldn't put people on the field until they are fully--
Listen, Patten,
we've got cities under attack on every continent,
with the high probability that this virus will jump quarantine.
Now, if this reaches the U.S., there's going to be mass panic.
What do I tell my constituents?
My constituents can't vote for me if they're dead.
With respect, Senator,
this kind of attack is exactly why I've been urging Congress
to increase our funding.
Oh, now you're gonna be all, "This kind of attack
is exactly why you've been urging Congress to increase our funding"?
I'm just saying that this kind of attack
is exactly why I've been urging Congress to increase our funding.
Show me your department can handle this outbreak
and you'll have my full support at the next budget hearing.
In the meantime, Patten, you need to get your arms around this,
or you'll be getting your arms busy opening want ads,
because you'll be out of a job and will need new employment.
This is the clinic where Neri's holed up?
Yeah. Let's just find him, get the cure, and get out of here.
...continue to gather information. Back to you, Jim.
At this point the virus seems limited to five cities.
Now experts have no idea who made this one-of-a-kind virus.
It was me!
It's literally written on the virus!
My masterpiece,
and nobody knows.
-Your morning infusion, signore. -Oh, be careful, Lorenzo.
These treatments have made my flesh weak,
like an overripe peach.
Yes. What?
No. You're kidding me. When?
Right now?
Oh, how about that, huh? It's a good thing you called.
If anything changes you call me back, huh?
Due American agents are coming to apprehend me.
-What? -They'll be here any moment.
We have to run! Or hide!
Why are you laughing?
They know it was me.
I'm famous again!
This place is a fortress.
A goddamn, shit-hole, blown-out fortress.
There she is.
Anais des Jardin. She runs this place.
Disgraced researcher from Normandy.
She had her medical license revoked
because they found out she was running tests on children.
What a monster!
Well, to be fair she was testing them for malaria
and then curing them of the malaria.
Oh, well, that's not so bad.
But then harvesting their organs for the black market.
-That I have mixed feelings about. -Yeah.
Is that Neri?
Oh, hey, morning, Hanzi.
I am Hanzi.
From what I can gather,
that's a man named Hanzi.
Wow, we're never gonna get anywhere near Neri without des Jardin's help.
-Wait, I think I got it. -I'm listening.
-Okay, we need to fit in, right? -Uh-huh.
-And this is a medical facility. -Yeah.
-And what are we? -Just friends.
But to make money we...
Sell clothes on eBay.
-But professionally we are... -We are doctors!
I think you know where I'm going with this.
Hello. We are interior decorators,
and from the looks of this place, we got here just in time.
My name is Nathan LeMuir. This is my associate...
Lola Spratt.
Dr. Lola Spratt.
-Who sent you? -An old client of ours,
Matteo Neri. I believe he is a patient here.
- He told you about this place? - Of course he did.
He's an old friend of ours. He tells us everything.
Signor Neri, we have to go. Now!
Do not worry, my faithful Lorenzo.
I have a plan, huh?
Look, I understand given your line of work,
that interior decorating's not high on your list of priorities,
but that doesn't mean we can't introduce
-a splash of color... -Mm-hmm.
...a little bit of warmth, maybe some brass.
Ooh! I'm thinking pillows.
Decorative pillows. Maybe a sensible throw.
What about a table?
How about a coat rack?
Maybe a bean bag.
-Lighting. -A chair.
Coffee tables.
-Chairs. -I'm thinking tapestries,
tapestries, tapestries,
everywhere.
She's right about that. She's right about that.
Yeah.
-Yeah. -Great, great.
-So... -Why don't we start with a tour?
Maybe we could look at our friend Matteo Neri's room.
We know him.
Hey, Hanzi! Come here.
I wanna knock you out and pretend I'm you.
Come here.
-I am Hanzi. -Yeah, no shit.
I am loving the distressed look of the architecture.
Oh, and these bullet holes are just charming.
Yes.
Oh, look at those chairs.
-Chairs. -Good morning, Hanzi.
-Still doing your exercise? -I'm Hanzi.
That's Hanzi, always saying who he is.
-Signor Neri! -Oh, uh,
we should do this next part alone.
You know, he may not be willing to be honest
about the facility's aesthetic in front of you.
-Okay. Make it fast then. -Thank you.
-There he is. -Okay.
It's over, Neri!
I am Hanzi.
-What? -What?
I am Hanzi.
It's not him.
The other Hanzi we passed!
That's Neri! Oh! I am kicking myself.
-I got kicked! -I got punched!
Holy shit!
These two are mine!
That's the woman who tried to kill us on the plane.
She should be dead.
Come on, come on!
Hey! You're under arrest, you piece of crap!
Pick me up now! Bring the truck around!
Got me right in the throat!
And I just shaved down my Adam's apple, too.
It looks great, by the way. I meant to tell you.
We should go after him.
- Okay, I'm good. - Yeah. Me, too.
Stop! Neri!
We know what you did, and we need the cure.
I am Hanzi.
Okay.
You're a doctor, right? What do you think of my work?
Your virus? It's terrifying...
and beautiful.
It is more than beautiful.
It is perfecto!
I only wish I could have meet the person who created it.
-What? You created it. -No!
I was merely following instructions.
I was given a beautiful road map,
and I used it to build a spectacular road!
Wait, you used a road map to build a road?
The real question you should be asking yourself is:
Who built the map?
Who built the map? Ah!
This metaphor is a disaster!
Tell us who designed the virus!
On your knees, macaroni and cheese.
That's offensive.
Stop!
Goodbye, my silly American friends.
No!
Get him!
-Please! Hang on! -I am!
My poor soft flesh cannot handle the strain!
-Don't let go! -I won't!
I'm coming apart!
Oh, gross! Oh, gross!
-Oh, God. -No!
Do you smell that?
Oh, God! Gross!
-Gross. -Oh, my God.
And the sound, the sound-- It was like-- So, like...
wet?
Stop it! Shut up. Shut the * up!
Great.
The only person who might have had the cure, and he's dead.
All that work was for nothing.
Ew, ew, ew.
Ew, ew, ew, ew.
Wallet. Could be something on his cell phone.
-It's locked. What is that? -What?
Oh, we need his face to unlock it.
-Let's get his face. -[barking, snarling[
-No! -Bad dog!
-Get out of there, you dang dog! -Bad dog!
You dumb doggy! You get! Get!
Oh, great.
We blew it.
We're stuck out here in the middle of Africa.
We're out of time. We got nothing.
Oh.
Look. It's Neri when he was a kid.
Yeah.
Oh, my God.
Neri has a twin.