๐งก ํ๋ฉด ํ ์ชฝ์ ์์, ํ ์ชฝ์ ์ด ํฌ์คํธ
window ํค + ์ข์ฐ ๋ฐฉํฅํค
๐งก ๊ตต์ ๊ธ์จ : ์ตํ ๊ตฌ๋ฌธ
๋ฐ ์ค : ์ ์๋ค๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ถ๋ถ
* : ๊ตต์ ๊ธ์จ ๋ถ์ฐ ์ค๋ช , ์ฌ์ ๋ป
# : ์ฌ ์ ํ, ์ํฉ ์ ํ
#
He's from the AG's office.
We're catching a hot one.
Hooray!
I was about to go mad with boredom.
Don't say "hooray". Someone's died.
Well, if they have, my happiness
makes no difference to them.
Nor does catching the killer,
for that matter.
True, but it makes
a difference to the killer.
This e-mail just came to
the Attorney General's office
and the Governor's
office 20 minutes ago.
"Pay attention.
At exactly 11:05 a.m. today,
"at 35.04 north
and 116.49 west,
"you'll see an arrogant
and greedy person
"punished with death,
and you will know I'm serious.
Signed, Joe Q. Public."
- Interesting.
- It's probably nothing.
So why can't the local
police handle it then?
Some fool let the Governor
read the damn thing.
So he talks to the AG, the AG
talks to Minelli,
and Minelli tells me we have
to handle it personally.
Rigsby, you're the fastest driver.
If we leave now and push it,
- we can get there by 11:05.
- Where is it?
Mojave desert, middle of nowhere,
- quarter of a mile off the highway.
- Interesting.
- Boring. Three hours away.
- Desert's beautiful this time of year.
Let's all go.
We can bring a picnic lunch.
Someone has to stay
and answer the phones.
- How much further?
- About 50 feet.
Look at that. Look what I found.
What is it?
It's a worm.
- It's a fossilized worm.
- I'm happy for you.
Yeah, this is it. This is the spot.
11:04 and change...
right on time.
- For what?
- There's still 15 seconds to go.
You know, when this worm was alive,
this whole desert
was the floor of a great sea.
There were dinosaurs
swimming above us.
- That is kinda awesome.
- Yeah.
Sharks the size of buses.
Brilliantly colored sea monsters.
Those mountains...
they would've been volcanoes.
This is a goat turd
about six months old.
Still...
giant sharks, here.
Okay, we've done our job.
Somebody yanked our chain pretty good.
Let's go.
Wait. I think we should wait.
What for?
What could possibly happen?
I have no idea,
but it's a pleasant spot,
and I have sandwiches.
We'll eat 'em in the car.
We've wasted enough time.
- Did you hear that?
- Yeah.
What is that?
Yeah, Our victim's name
is David Whittaker...
one of a party of
six casual skydivers
that went up with
an instructor this morning.
All executives of a company
called Carnelian Prime Trust
out here on an outdoor
adventure retreat.
Yeah, our victim was,
VP of human resources.
David Whittaker,
Carnelian Prime Trust.
Got it. I'll start digging.
You see that right there?
That's the master strap, okay?
And it was cut nearly clean through.
Now that has to be deliberate,
and that is evil.
'Cause the minute
this thing deployed,
the chute would've come clean off.
- Who rigged the chute?
- Me. I did. Last night,
and I double-checked
every one of 'em.
They were a OK.
I guarantee it.
- This was done after.
- By someone that knows parachutes.
Yes. I've been rigging
chutes for 15 years,
and I've never had one accident,
not one. Never.
There's a number on there.
Is there any way
to identify which chute
is for which jumper?
Are they assigned to individuals?
I just tell the jumpers to grab
the first chute they come to.
Those numbers are strictly
for the maintenance logs.
Who had access to the chutes
after you rigged them?
They're just... they're in the hangar
overnight, not locked or anything.
So anyone who had access
to the airport, basically.
Agent Lisbon, is it? We're leaving.
Keep my office informed.
And you... you'll be hearing
from our lawyers. Yeah, do it now.
Are you gonna
let him get away with that?
Mr. Faulk?
This is a murder investigation.
You can't leave
until we say you can leave.
I apologize.
I thought we had answered
all your questions.
Do we have
your permission to leave, Agent Lisbon?
Yes, you do. But we're gonna have a lot
of follow-up questions.
You know our location.
Yes, we do.
We'll be in touch, Mr. Faulk.
- Why isn't the body on the move yet?
- Forensics is still working the scene.
Well, He fell from the sky.
What could they work on for an hour?
Nerds. They won't be hurried.
- So who is this Randall Faulk guy,
- What does he do?
President and CEO
of Carnelian prime trust.
They're one of the top
ten private equity firms in the world.
They buy and sell big companies...
Oil, steel, auto plants,
hotel chains.
- You name it, they own it.
- Rich bastards.
As soon as the scene's clear,
you two go to the airport.
Find out who had access to
the parachutes last night.
And find out about Spruell's history.
See if anything bumps.
Yeah, you got it.
Van Pelt, what's up?
- Are you close to a TV?
- No, why?
Oh, hell.
You want your sandwich?
Help you?
- We're looking for Mr. Faulk.
- Right up in the house.
- Thank you.
- Thanks.
<i>Following Mr. Whittaker's
horrific death,</i>
<i>a message was sent within
the past hour to the police</i>
<i>and several media outlets,
including channel 4 news.</i>
<i>It reads,
"I have proved my strength.</i>
<i>I have scored one
for the little guy,</i>
<i>and I would do it again,</i>
<i>unless Carnelian Prime
Trust makes a public apology</i>
<i>for its greed and arrogance
and promises to change its ways.</i>
Yours truly, Joe Q. Public."
Illiterate nonsense.
Perhaps. But the threat
to your lives is explicit.
We need to set up a security plan
with the marshal's services.
What time are you planning
on going back to the city?
We're not.
We're staying here.
We're continuing the retreat.
Oh, for god sake, Rand. Perhaps
there are other considerations here?
I'm not sure staying here
is the most advisable safety posture.
We stay.
I'm not letting some random lunatic
disturb Carnelian.
This is a test of our strength.
David would want us to continue.
Yes, he would. Yes, he would.
David would never back down.
David wouldn't want you to
respectfully acknowledge
his tragic and untimely death?
Oh, he...
He wouldn't want it to interfere
with your kayaking schedule.
- Joan, is it?
- Jane, like the girl.
- Jane.
- Mr. Jane.
- Mr. Jane.
- Thank you.
This week that we spent
here is not a vacation.
This is a test.
What we learn here about ourselves
and about each other is at
the core of the philosophy
of Carnelian's success.
Now there will come
an appropriate moment
to mourn our dear friend.
This is the moment to show resolve
and courage.
And now,
perhaps you can give us a briefing
on the case so far.
We investigate murders.
We don't give briefings.
Why on earth not?
We have the right to know.
- We're the victims here.
- David Whittaker is the victim here.
Any one of us could've
picked that bad chute.
Any one of us could
be dead right now.
Yes, but the saboteur didn't *์ฌ๋ณดํ์ฃผ(sabotage)ํ๋ ์ฌ๋, ํ๊ดด[๋ฐฉํด] ๊ณต์์
know which one of you would die.
He felt that any one of
you would fit the bill. *๋ง์กฑ์ํค๋ค, ๋ฑ ํ์ํ ๊ฒ์ ๊ณต๊ธํ๋ค
"Greedy and arrogant."
- How does that make you feel?
- What, is this group therapy?
Do you want group therapy?
No, we want a professional
police detective.
I will be speaking with your superiors
just to assure myself that your people
- are the best option going forward.
- That's a good assurance to get. *ํ์ (certainty), ํ์ค์ฑ
Quick question...
What is the worst thing you
people have done lately?
We control assets
of over $50 billion.
Our companies employ over
half a million people.
In the last six months,
the way the economy has been going. ์ต๊ทผ ๊ฒฝ๊ธฐ ์ํฅ์ผ๋ก ์ธํด
I've been forced to put
about 50,000 men and women out of work. *put someone out of work ~๋ฅผ ์ง์ฅ์์ ๋๊ฐ๊ฒ ํ๋ค. ์ค์งํ๋ค
Now some of them
will blame Carnelian
for their misfortunes, I'm sure.
It's understandable.
- Does that bother you, personally? ๊ฐ์ธ์ ์ผ๋ก ์ ๊ฒฝ์ด ์ฐ์ด์ธ์?
- It most certainly does.
I am concerned
about security just like anyone else.
- I don't consider myself bulletproof.
- That's not what I meant.
I meant, does it bother you that these
people are out of work on your say-so? *๋น๊ฒฉ์ ํ๋ฝ
No.
That's my job...
To make the tough decisions.
Tough, yet rational and ethical.
And, yes, I'm afraid people
will suffer because of it.
So it's no surprise. That someone's
making a stand against you.
No, there's always
malcontents amongst us. *๊ฒฉ์ ๋ชป๋ง๋
ํจ ๋ถ๋ง์ ํ์ ์ฌ๋, ๋ถํ[๋ถ๋ง] ๋ถ์
- I'll send you our register. *(์ด๋ฆ·ํญ๋ชฉ ๋ฑ์ ์ ์ ๊ณต์์ ์ธ) ๊ธฐ๋ก[๋ฑ๋ก/๋ฑ๊ธฐ]๋ถ, ๋ช
๋ถ
- You have a register of malcontents?
Anyone who's ever sued us
or threatened to sue us or
written hostile letters, that sort of thing.
They're logged in the register.
It'd be good for us
to take a look at that.
Yeah.
#
We'd like a list of everyone
with an airport security pass.
- Do you have a warrant?
- It's not privileged information, ma'am. * ๋ฒ๋ฅ ๊ธฐ๋ฐ์ (=confidential)
You can give it to
us without prejudice.
- Well, Okay, if you're sure.
- Yeah, I'm sure.
If you could,
send it to that address, please?
Hi. You'll be getting
the airport list any second now. *๊ณง ๋ฐ๋ก
Okay.
Got it. I'll cross-check it
against the Carnelian list.
One name on both lists...
Lee Skelling.
Lee Skelling?
Yeah, he works the baggage truck
a couple days a week. ์ผ์ฃผ์ผ์ ์ดํ
- He's not here today.
- Okay, thank you.
- Thank you.
- Thanks, Van Pelt.
Yep.
Sniveling lackey pigs is what *sniveling ๋ชป๋ง๋
ํจ ์๊พธ ์ธ๋ฉฐ ๋ณด์ฑ๋, [์นญ์ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋, ํ์ฉ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋]
*lackey ๋ชป๋ง๋
ํจ ์ข
๊ฐ์ ์ฌ๋
you are, you know that?
- Damn lackeys!
- Calm down, Lee.
Make me. ์ง์ ํ๊ฒ ํด๋ด
Stop right there!
You let him go right now,
- You hear me?
- It's not loaded!
Now you put that down right now,
you idiot.
- But, daddy!
- Get inside, boy.
- Scared the pants off you, didn't he? *๋๋ผ๊ฒ ํ์ฌ ๋ฐ์ง๊ฐ ๋ฒ์ด์ง๊ฒ ํ๋ค.
- Yeah, he did.
No, he didn't.
#
Two years ago, you sent this letter
to Carnelian headquarters.
"You greedy sons of bitches
ought to know better than to outright *๋
ธ๊ณจ์ ์ผ๋ก, ๋๋ฌ๋ด ๋๊ณ
steal from decent American citizens like myself.
You're no better
than scum in my book.
You better pay up,
or there's gonna be consequences."
- You recall writing this letter?
- Yes, I do.
Tell me about it.
Like the letter says,
which I wrote in a moment of anger,
they stole from me,
from my family.
Then when I called them on it,
they not only didn't pay me,
they did their damnedest
to throw me in jail.
- How'd they steal from you?
- I used to work the line
at Grant Aerospace.
Fan ducts for airliners. *duct (๋ฌผ·๊ฐ์ค·์ ์ ๋ฑ์) (๋ฐฐ)๊ด
They had a whole
incentive thing going.
If a shop floor guy * (๊ณต์ฅ์) ํ์ฅ[์์ฐ์ง] ๋
ธ๋์
comes up with an idea
that saves costs or speeds the line.
He gets a bonus. $50,000.
So I came up with
an improvement on the riveting gear *rivet ๋๊ฐ๋ชป[๋ฆฌ๋ฒณ]์ผ๋ก ๊ณ ์ ํ๋ค
that saved them 5
1/2 cents per unit.
That's huge.
So 50,000 for me, right?
That's a lot of money.
The CEO shook my hand.
I had it in writing. ์๋ฉด์ผ๋ก ํ์ธ๋ ๋ฐ์์ฃ
Then Carnelian prime
buys Grant Aerospace.
Come time to pay my bonus,
they welsh. *๋ชป๋ง๋
ํจ ๋น๊ฒฉ์ (์ฝ์์) ์ด๊ธฐ๋ค
I complained about it.
They sacked me. *๋น๊ฒฉ์ ํนํ ่ฑ ํ๋ฉด[ํด๊ณ ]ํ๋ค (=fire)
- What'd you do then?
- Oh, I tried to take them to court.
Me and one old, cross-eyed *์ฌ์์
lawyer out of the phone book
against 20 ivy league weasels. *informal a dishonest person who cannot be trusted
No contest. ๊ฒ์์ด ์ ๋์ฃ
I didn't even get a hearing.
Sounds like a bad injustice was done.
Sounds like you have
- a right to be angry.
- Yes, I do. I do have a right.
#
Your friends already took Lee.
What do you want?
Jessie Skelling?
No, I'm Cindy Crawfod.
Jessie's on vacation to Mexico.
Ma'am?
I can't even look at you people.
You make me so mad.
Lee's done nothing. Nothing!
Jessie, if your husband is innocent,
we're your best friends.
We'll prove he's innocent.
Will you help us?
You want some water or a soda?
Some water sounds lovely.
#
Where were you the night before last,
from 9:00 p.m. till 9:00
- the next morning?
- I was at work,
- and then I was at home.
- At work at the airport?
Yes.
And, yes, I could've gotten
into Spruell's hangar *๊ฒฉ๋ฉ๊ณ
and messed with that parachute,
but I didn't.
Okay? I worked my shift,
I went home,
and that's all I did.
I didn't even know.
Those Carnelia people were
out there jumping that day.
And you know what? I wouldn't give
a damn Even if I did know.
No?
Okay, yeah, I would give a damn. *๊ด์ฌ์ ๊ฐ๋ค
They could give me that money.
It was peanuts to them. Nothing. ๊ทธ ์ฌ๋๋คํํ
๊ป๊ฐ ์ ๋๋๊น์
Cut a man's chute?
No.
Four years with the rangers.
You're familiar with parachutes.
Yes, I am.
- You ever been in the military, Cho?
- Yes.
Then you know.
I would chop a man's head
off and pee down his neck
before I'd ever cut
his chute that way.
I mean...
That's bad.
That's out there. ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์๋์ฃ
#
Lee is a god-fearing man. ๊ทธ์ด๋ ํ๋๋์ ๋๋ ค์ํด์
He wouldn't kill somebody like that.
- No way.
- He was a soldier. He can kill.
For his country, not for himself.
What's the difference, you think?
I don't know, but it makes all
the difference in the world.
You're very confident
of his innocence.
How can you be so sure?
Cause I asked him if he did it,
and he said, no, he didn't do it.
You suspected
he might indeed have done it. *(๊ธ์ ์ ์ธ ์ง์ ·๋๋ต์ ๊ฐ์กฐํ์ฌ) ์ ๋ง[ํ์คํ]
- But he denied it. You believe him.
- Lee don't lie to me.
He'll cause me trouble and grief
a hundred which ways,
but he don't lie to me.
Wives often say
that about their husbands.
Easy to fool yourself
that the people you love are honest.
Yeah, it is.
But I know he wouldn't lie.
- Why?
- Because.
- Why?
- Because I'm dyin'.
And He wouldn't want
to lie to somebody who's gonna sit next
to the almighty pretty soon.
I'm sorry.
Stuff happens.
Don't worry about it.
The night before last, ๊ทธ์ ๊ป ๋ฐค
what time did Lee get home?
Same time as every night.
About half past midnight.
Yeah.
My husband did not do this thing.
If he went to jail,
what would happen to the kids?
They'd go into care.
And he wouldn't do that to me.
He wouldn't.
Thank you for your time.
#
Your wife said you
wouldn't do that to her.
I don't know.
Maybe if you thought you could
get away with it, you would.
When I was working
at Grant Aerospace,
Jessie was getting the best
treatment for her sickness.
If I hadn't made
a nuisance of myself,
I'd still have my job
and my health insurance.
Jessie'd be okay.
So why did I bitch and moan, right? *bitch ๋น๊ฒฉ์ (ํนํ ๊ทธ ์๋ฆฌ์ ์๋ ์ฌ๋์ ๋ํด) ์์ ํ๋ค
*moan ๋น๊ฒฉ์ ํฌ๋[์นญ์ผ]๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ค, ๋ถํํ๋ค (=grumble, whine)
I mean,
why couldn't I just be quiet,
keep my job?
I don't know.
Ego and pride...
And vanity, I expect. *๋ชป๋ง๋
ํจ ์๋ง์ฌ, ํ์์ฌ (→vain)
Yeah, I guess something like that.
But if I thought
I could get away with it,
yes, I would kill
every last one of those bastards.
But you can't kill rich
people and get away with it. *(๋์ ์ง์ ํ๊ณ ๋) ์ฒ๋ฒ์ ๋ชจ๋ฉดํ๋ค[๊ทธ๋ฅ ๋์ด๊ฐ๋ค]
Everybody knows that.
#
- I know, I can read your mind.
- You can, really?
You're thinking
that Mr. Skelling is innocent
- and we should release him. Cho!
- That's amazing.
That's exactly what I was thinking.
How do you do that? Let me try.
You're thinking, "Jane is right.
The man is innocent.
We should let him go."
No, I just think you
want him to be innocent
because his guilt
would be too simple.
He has motive,
opportunity and no alibi.
- Yeah...
- Yeah, boss?
- Let Lee Skelling go.
- You sure?
We have no hard
evidence against him.
Okay. Will do.
We should go and talk to
the Carnelian executives again.
- Throw a cat among the pigeons. *์๋์ ์ผ์ผํค๋ค.
- You think? Why?
Well, What if this is not about
what it looks like it's about?
- What if it's about something else entirely?
- Like?
- I don't know.
- So you're suggesting we throw a blind
- cat among the pigeons.
- Yeah.
No.
#
Howdy. *็พ ๋น๊ฒฉ์ ํํ ์ ๋จธ ์๋
(๋ง๋ฌ์ ๋ ํ๋ ์ธ์ฌ)
I understand that you
released a promising suspect.
We didn't like him for it. ๊ทธ ์ฌ๋์ด ์๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์์์
We think... well, that is, I think...
Agent Lisbon disagrees with me.
I think the answer
lies with one of you here. *…์ ์๋ค.
But that's absurd.
- Why?
- You think one of us
sabotaged David's parachute?
Why not?
He chutes were clearly numbered.
The saboteur would
simply have to make sure
not to choose the dud. *๋น๊ฒฉ์ ๋ชป ์ฐ๋[์ ๋๋ก ์๋ํ์ง ์๋] ๊ฒ
But how could they know
who would pick the dud?
They'd be killing
a randomly selected colleague.
- Why would anyone want to do that?
- Yes. I don't know. We'll find out.
So tell us a little
about yourselves.
Let's use this sadness to get
some real truths, shall we?
Joyce, you first.
Me first to do what, exactly?
I'll tell you what I think,
just to get the ball rolling. *์ผ์ ์์ํ๋ค
I think you've made
your way in the world
by concealing your true feelings
under a mask of positivity
and niceness,
but underneath, you're a seething *seethe (๋ง์์์ผ๋ก ๋ถ๋
ธ ๋ฑ์ด) ๋ถ๊ธ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋ค, ์์ ๋์ด๋ค (=fume)
mass of ugly, bitter resentment.
You think Faulk is a stupid buffoon, *๊ตฌ์ ์ด๋ฆฟ๊ด๋
but you're far too clever
to be brave enough to tell him so.
How dare you?
And, you, Mr. Braemar...
Marine corps, yes? *corps (ํน์ ์๋ฌด๋ฅผ ๋ค) ๋ถ๋
Yes.
Yeah. Office politics
must seem kinda trivial
in comparison.
How often do you fantasize about
pulling a couple of weapons
and showing these
civilians a little reality?
That is baseless and inappropriate,
and I resent it.
Agent Lisbon,
this is a high-profile case, *์ธ๊ฐ์ ์ด๋ชฉ์ ๋๋ (→profile)
a career-making case,
if concluded successfully.
Is this how you wish to proceed...
- with clownish games?
- I apologize. Mr. Jane is a consultant.
His statements in no way *๊ฒฐ์ฝ[์กฐ๊ธ๋] …์๋ค(not…at all)
reflect the official view of the CBI.
I am simply trying
to get a full picture
of the group dynamic here, *(์๋ก ๊ด๊ณ๋๋ ์ธ๋ ฅโ์ํฅ๋ ฅ ์ฌ์ด์) ์ญํ
for instance, does anyone resent
the sexual relationship between
Faulk and Miss Sobell here?
Anyone?
Why would anyone resent it?
Don't engage with him, Nadia.
- Oh, you let him tell you what to do.
- That's enough.
- You can go now.
- Yes, we can.
#
You threw a cat, all right?
What valuable insight did
you glean as a result? *(์ ๋ณด·์ง์ ๋ฑ์ ์ด๋ ต๊ฒ ์ฌ๊ธฐ์ ๊ธฐ์) ์ป๋ค[๋ชจ์ผ๋ค]
Nothing.
It's a little disappointing.
Well, maybe, just maybe this case
is exactly what it
looks like it's about.
Bitter suburbs with
a grudge against the fat cats. *fat cat ๋น๊ฒฉ์ ๋ชป๋ง๋
ํจ ๋ฐฐ๋ถ๋ฅธ ์๋ณธ๊ฐ
Nice drive, though.
Nice 3-hour drive.
I am hungry. You hungry?
- Ready?
- Ready.
#
You know what's weird
about those guys?
None of them seem to give a damn.
A colleague of theirs
falls out of the sky,
and they seem okay with it.
Is that guilt or indifference?
Corporate brainwashing
turns them into robots.
Grief isn't productive,
and that's all.
I don't buy that. *๋๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ์๊ฐํ์ง ์์
People make up their own minds.
- You can't brainwash them.
- Oh, sure you can.
That's what these corporate
retreats are all about.
It's primitive brainwashing
via group suffering. * (ํน์ ํ ์ฌ๋·์์คํ
๋ฑ์) ํตํ์ฌ
It's like office Karaoke or,
fraternity hazing. *fraternity (๊ฒฐ์ฌ)๋จ์ฒด, ์น๋ชฉ๋จ์ฒด, ์ฌ๊ตํด๋ฝ *hazing (์ ์ฐธ์๋ฅผ) ๊ณฏ๋ฆฌ๊ธฐ, ๋ชป์ด๊ฒ ๊ตด๊ธฐ
How so?
Oh, when the individual
is humiliated,
their perceived value
of the group is raised.
I went on a retreat
when I got promoted to head of the unit.
I mean, I wasn't humiliated.
I wasn't brainwashed.
- So you say.
- I wasn't. It was useful, actually.
How so?
Learning about communication
and leadership skills,
building trust...
something you could profit from.
What does that mean?
Like you don't know you
have major trust issues. ๋น์ ์ ์ฌ๋์ ์ ๋ชป ๋ฏฟ์์์
I trust people. I trust you.
No, you don't.
I don't trust you either.
That's upsetting to hear that.
And really, you don't trust me?
Of course not.
How many times have you lied to me,
misled me, tricked me?
Is that trust? No.
Well, we have to remedy this. * ๋ฐ๋ก์ก๋ค, ๊ฐ์ [๊ต์ ]ํ๋ค (=put right)
Let's do a trust fall.
A trust fall?
Yeah. I'm sure you did
one on your CBI retreat.
It's when you turn around,
and fall backward, and I catch you.
Yes, we did do that...
No.
- You won't?
- We have a long drive still.
Here we have two co-workers
recognizing the boundaries
of their professional relationship.
See, you want to trust me,
but there's something
holding you back. *(๊ฐ์ ์) ๋๋ฅด๋ค[์ฐธ๋ค]
Yes. You're untrustworthy.
It's my job not to trust you.
Lisbon, I want you to know
that you can trust me.
No matter what happens,
I will be there for you.
I will.
I need you to know that.
- Now can I catch you?
- Come on.
Please?
Fine.
Come on.
See, you can trust me.
That worked.
Suddenly, I trust you.
I allow you to drive
me around the country
in this contraption. *(๊ธฐ๋ฌํ) ๊ธฐ๊ณ[์ฅ์น]
That's serious trust.
#
Talk to me.
Do I have to?
No. I can just fall asleep,
and we can drift into
oncoming traffic.
Your call.
Have you seen any
good movies lately?
No. You?
No.
Interesting.
#
Lisbon, we just got another
message from Joe Q. Public.
"When all go to bed,
they'd best say their good-byes."
"When all go to bed,
they'd best say their good-byes."
"For prompt at my bidding, *prompt ์ ์ํ *bidding ๋ช
๋ น
all things will rise."
"And the king of the rats
will meet his demise."
Signed, Joe Q. Public.
<i>- Is that all?
- Yeah, that's all.</i>
<i>- Okay.
- Okay, bye.</i>
Now he's writing bad poetry.
What does that mean,
"all things will rise"?
What? What does it mean?
He's planted a bomb to kill Faulk.
#
What the hell?
- What are you doing here?
- Bear with us, Mr. Faulk, ์ค๋ก ํฉ๋๋ค
- we have reason to believe...
- Yeah, there it is.
Told you so.
- There's what?
- There's no need to gloat. *(์์ ์ ์ฑ๊ณต์) ํก์กฑํด ํ๋ค, (๋จ์ ์คํจ๋ฅผ) ๊ณ ์ํด ํ๋ค (=crow)
Mr. Faulk, there is
an explosive device of some kind
- under your bed.
- Oh, my God!
- Wait.
- What do you mean, "wait"?
Just let me get a better look.
No, I don't think there's
a pressure trigger.
- You can get up now.
- You don't think? ์๋ ๊ฒ "๊ฐ๋ค" ๊ณ ์?
Well, I'm sure it doesn't.
The timer's set to go off
in ten minutes,
so we have plenty of time.
If you'll just get
out of the bed slowly.
We do not want
to jar the device in any way. *๋ถ๋ช์น๋ค, ์ถฉ๊ฒฉ์ ์ฃผ๋ค[๋ฐ๋ค]
- For god sakes!
- Sorry. Couldn't resist. ์ฐธ์ ์๊ฐ ์์์ด์
- It didn't go off. What happened?
- She's a nasty little girl.
Anyone inside of 20 feet
would have been a red mist. *์ผ์์ ์ผ๋ก ํ๋จ์ ํ๋ฆฌ๊ฒ ํ ์ ๋๋ก ๊ทนํ ๋ถ๋
ธ
See this wire right here?
Yeah, it came loose at some point, ์ด๊ฒ ์ด๋ ์๊ฐ์ธ๊ฐ ํ๊ฑฐ์์ ธ
disarmed her.
- Silly mistake.
- Lucky, huh?
Don't touch that.
Even though it's disarmed,
if you touch the red terminal, *์ ๊ทน(้ปๆฅต), ๋จ์(็ซฏๅญ)
We're all barbecue.
That's good to know.
- Looks like expert work.
- Absolutely.
We've got high-test army ordnance *high-test ์๊ฒฉํ ํ
์คํธ์ ํฉ๊ฒฉํ๋, ๊ณ ํ์ง์, <๊ฐ์๋ฆฐ์ด> ๋น๋ฑ์ ์ด ๋ฎ์ *ordnance ๊ตฐ์ํ
combined with a hobby store trigger. ๋๋ค์์ ํ๋ ๊ธฐํญ์ ๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์ด ์ผ์ด์
Whoever built this thing
really knows his onions. *์์ด ์๊ธฐ ์ผ์ ์ ํตํ๋ค, ์ ๋ฅํ๋ค
- Army ordnance?
- Yeah. You've got
the innards of five mark I-9 *(๊ธฐ๊ณ์) ๋ด๋ถ
army issue grenades packed together. *์๋ฅํ (→hand grenade)
๋ด๋ถ์ ๊ตฐ์ฉ ์๋ฅํ ๋ค์ฏ ์ ์ด ํ๋ฐ ๋ฌถ์ฌ ์์ต๋๋ค
#
Soon as he heard about the bomb,
he knew you people would be on him. ๋น์ ๋ค์ด ๋ ์ฐพ์์ฌ ๊ฑธ ์๊ณ
So he grabbed his gear, ๋จํธ์ ์ผ๋ฅธ ์ฅ๋น๋ฅผ ์ฑ๊ฒจ
and he ran out of here. ๋๋ง์ณค์ด์
How did he know about the bomb?
I told him.
Listen to the police scanner. ๊ฒฝ์ฐฐ ๋ฌด์ ์ ๋ฃ๊ฑฐ๋ ์
Kind of a hobby.
- You hear some things, my God.
- Where did he go?
- His truck's still here.
- Friend gave him a ride.
- Friend's name?
- Sure, like I'm gonna tell you. ์ ๊ฐ ํฝ์ด๋ ๋งํ๊ฒ ์ด์
Lee is only making
things worse by running.
Right.
He said he tell you
that he is 100% innocent.
He didn't do it.
But that's no matter
- once the law gets ahold of you. *…์ ์ก๋ค, …์ ์ฐ๊ฒฐ์ง๋ค, …์ ์
์ํ๋ค
- Do you know where he's gone to?
- Wouldn't you like to know.
- I know. I'm just wondering if you do.
- Yeah? Where'd he go?
- Mountains.
Well, You're welcome
to look for him. You won't find him.
I bet you're right.
Capable man, your husband.
- Yes, he is.
- Is he armed?
If he is,
it's for huntin' and nothing else.
Send him my best wishes
next time you speak to him.
I will.
#
Damn it.
I should have never let him go.
- He didn't do it.
- Maybe he didn't,
but it sure looks like he did.
Rigsby, put out an APB
on Lee Skelling.
He's armed and dangerous,
headed for the mountain regions.
Didn't do it.
<i>Carnelian is a company
founded on good American values.</i>
<i>We will be a better
company because of this,</i>
<i>and the sick individual
behind this campaign</i>
<i>against us will not
affect us in any way.</i>
<i>We will not be intimidated.</i>
- Fool.
- Playing the hero.
- He'll get himself killed.
- He has to act tough.
Carnelian needs to turn this to their
PR advantage, or their business
- will lose a lot of money.
- How's Carnelian's stock price?
Down 15% since Whittaker's
death and still dropping.
Wonder whether anyone
made money off the drop. ๊ทธ ํ๋ฝ์ผ๋ก ๋์ ๋ฒ ์ฌ๋๋ ์๊ฒ ๊ตฐ
- Shorting the stock, you mean. ์ฃผ์ ๊ณต๋งค ๋ง์ด๊ตฐ์
- Yeah. If you'd known beforehand
that Carnelian was gonna
be targeted by Joe Public.
Because you are Joe Public,
then betting against them
- on the market is easy money. *์ฝ๊ฒ ๋ฒ ๋
- Well, it can't be Skelling, then.
- He's got no money to bet with.
- Well, It's not Skelling. We know that already.
You know that.
We're keeping an open mind.
On it. I'll run
the market trading logs, ์ฃผ์ ๊ฑฐ๋ ๊ธฐ๋ก์ ์กฐํํด๋ณด๊ณ
see if anybody made a killing, ์ฃฝ์ด๋ ์์ต์ ๋ธ ์ฌ๋์ด ์๋ ๋ณผ๊ฒ์ *๊ฐ์๊ธฐ ํฐ ๋์ ๋ฒ๋ค[ํฌ๊ฒ ํ๋ชซ ์ก๋ค]
so to speak.
- Any word on Skelling?
- A couple of potential sightings *๋ชฉ๊ฒฉ(ํนํ ํน์ดํ ๊ฒ·์ ๊น๋ฐ์ ๋ณผ ์ ์๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋ํด ์)
in the Mt. Whitney area.
Locals and park services are
all over it. We'll get him.
I doubt it.
Skelling's in his element up there... ๊ฑฐ๊ธด ์ค์ผ๋ง์ ๋์ดํฐ์์ *์๊ธฐ ๋ณธ๋ น(ๆฌ้ ) ๋ด์์
His survivalist
fantasy life come true.
He's gone to ground
like a grizzly bear.
Eureka.
I found a trading account
that made a series of moves
in the market against
Carnelian stock.
The trades exactly
mirror our time line. * (๊ฑฐ์ธ์ฒ๋ผ) ์ ๋ณด์ฌ์ฃผ๋ค, ๋ฐ์ํ๋ค (=reflect)
Is there a name
attached to the account?
There's a subsidiary track...
to a British bank...
A company account
in the name of N.S. Holdings.
N.S... Nadia Sobell.
#
We're looking for Nadia Sobell.
She's out on the mountain
with the others playing war.
War?
Yeah, you know,
with those paintball guns.
You divide into teams,
you get dressed up, and you
creep around
trying to kill each other.
It's actually a lot of fun,
if only I hadn't twisted my ankle.
So, what do you guys
want to talk to Nadia for?
#
Nadia?
Nadia?
My God!
#
What do we have?
The body went to the lab
a couple hours ago.
Local PD's working a grid
search of the crime scene.
- Any word on Skelling?
- Nothing recent,
but the last good
sighting we had of him was midmorning
at a trailhead 3.5 miles from *์์ทจ[๊ธธ]์ ๊ธฐ์ (่ตท้ป)
the ridge where Sobell was shot.
Time line says
he could have made it easy.
- Coincidence. He didn't do it.
- We don't...
Never mind.
- Whoever did this thinks we're idiots.
- Yes. A mistake.
How so?
We certainly look like idiots.
When our number one suspect gets
shot practically right in front of us.
Not in front of us.
- Any messages from Joe Public?
- Not a word.
Won't hear from him.
That disguise has
grown boring, I suspect. ๊ฐ์ง ์ธ๋ฌผ์ ์ด ์ฌ๋ฏธ๊ฐ ์์ด์ก์ ํ
๋๊น์
What, you think Joe Public's a ruse? ์กฐ ํผ๋ธ๋ฆญ์ ์ ์ด ์์๋ ๊ฑฐ์์?
*ruse ๊ณ๋ต, ์ฑ
๋ต (=trick)
So what's the motive for killing
Whittaker and Sobell then?
Yes, well, that's the question.
Whittaker's death was random.
Any one of them could
have taken the dud chute.
But Sobell's wasn't.
What does that tell us?
What? We give up.
Well, I'm not entirely sure.
Are Faulk
and the others still inside?
Yeah.
#
What's in the bag?
Oh. Picnic lunch.
- What's in the bag?
- A bomb.
What's in the bag?
Seriously.
Seriously, a bomb.
#
What happened?
Sobell and I were competing
against De Shaun and Joyce.
I was tracking Joyce
when I heard the shot.
And then I heard De Shaun
yelling from over the ridge.
Mr. Faulk? Your cars are here,
and the baggage is loaded.
- Thank you, Jake.
- You're leaving?
Yes. It was a mistake to stay.
I was tempting fate *tempt fate ์ด๋ช
์ ๋์ ํ๋ค
to prove a point, *๋
ผ์ ์ ์ธ์ ํ๊ฒ ํ๋ค.
and now poor Nadia has paid for it.
- It's too much.
- You can't blame yourself.
Why not?
- Excuse me?
- No, that's all right.
The barb is well-placed. ์ ๋๋ก ํจ์ ์ ๋น ์ก์ด์ *barb (ํ์ด์ด·๋์ ๋ฐ๋์) ๋ฏธ๋
I've been wrong.
The company's been wrong.
I need to issue a statement,
make an apology.
No, no.
You can't let this psycho win.
No, no, no. Not to Joe Public,
to the general public, to the people.
Carnelian is going
to change its ways
and become a better company,
redeemed by its suffering, *(๊ฒฐํจ ๋ฑ์) ๋ณด์[๋ฒ์ถฉ/์์]ํ๋ค (=compensate for)
reborn, rebranded,
ethical, honest, clean.
- That's brilliant.
- Yes, it is. It's brilliant.
No, it's just necessary.
However, I want a campaign on those themes
ready by next week.
- I'll get someone working on it.
- Phone call from Van Pelt.
Forensics got a hit on the bullet
that was taken out of Sobell.
It's a boat tail .264 caliber bullet
manufactured by Winchester in
1989 as part of a custom batch
to be given to
the top ten finalists in the
annual American
Cowboy Shootist Competition
- in Reno, Nevada.
- You're kidding.
Let me guess...
- Jake Cooby.
- Seventh place.
- Jake Cooby?
- The ranch manager?
Of course. It all adds up. ์ด์ ์ผ ๋ง์ด ๋๋๊ตฐ
It's perfect.
- It is?
- Why would Cooby
- want to kill somebody?
- Well, let's go ask him.
Mr. Faulk?
Where does Mr. Cooby put his feet up? *๊ตฌ์ด ๋์์[๋ฐ์ ๋ฌด์์ธ๊ฐ์ ์ฌ๋ ค ๋๊ณ ] ์ฌ๋ค
- The staff kitchen.
- Ah. Thank you.
Wait.
- Why is Jake involved?
- The bullet that killed Nadia...
Apparently very special,
almost certainly
- belongs to Mr. Cooby.
- Jake? Can't be.
- You know him well, don't you?
- Yeah. I've been coming here for six years.
We're good friends.
This is a good man.
Salt of the earth. This can't be.
Forensics doesn't lie.
He never expressed
animosity towards you?
No, never.
Must be a secret grudge.
Staff kitchen, you said, this way?
- Maybe you can help us.
- Well, of course. Anything I can do...
Come with me
when I talk to Mr. Cooby.
- All right.
- Okay.
Hold on.
I don't think that's such a good idea.
Well, it's him that
Cooby's angry with. Let's use that
- vex him, open him up a little. *๊ตฌ์ ๋๋ ๊ฒฉ์ ์ฑ๊ฐ์๊ฒ[์ง์ฆ๋๊ฒ]ํ๋ค
- Maybe it'll work, but it's too risky.
You can wait outside with your gun drawn
in case Cooby gets a little haywire. * [๊ตฌ์ด] ๋ฏธ์น, ํฅ๋ถํ; ๊ณ ์ฅ๋
#
You saying it's me? I shot her?
Yes, and cut Whittaker's parachute
and planted the bomb
that almost killed Mr. Faulk here.
I surely did not.
Jeez! Why in heck
would I do all that?
- That's what we'd like to know.
- Are you guys for real? ์ง์ฌ์ผ๋ก ํ๋ ์๋ฆฝ๋๊น?
Come on.
How long have you known me, Mr. Faulk?
Why, Jake? What did I ever
do to you to justify this?
- Help me understand.
- Okay, now see here...
I don't know how,
but you got the wrong idea about me.
Is that right?
Then why was it that one
of your prize bullets
- killed Nadia Sobell?
- It was?
And why did you build
this clever thing, huh?
What?
- Is that a bomb?
- Yes, Jake, It's your bomb. You made it.
No, I didn't!
What have you been smokin', man? ๋น์ ๋ง์ฝ ํ์?
Really? No, it's not?
This is not your trigger?
- For God's sakes!
- Is that...
It's okay. Everyone just stay calm.
It's no problem.
I'm pretty sure you disarm it
by removing this wire
from the red terminal.
Idiot.
There. What the hell
are you playin' at?
- As they say. ์ด๋ด ๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ๋งํ์ฃ
- What are you talkin' about?
You knew how to disarm the bomb
because you made it.
You planted it to divert
suspicion from yourself.
Ergo, it was you
that killed Whittaker and Sobell.
I hate to spoil your theory,
but it's obvious how
to disarm the bomb.
No, it wasn't. I bet 90% of
people would think to remove
this wire here,
that'd be the right thing to do.
The bomb squad took
out the explosive.
That's just play-doh, *play dough ๊ณต์์ ํ
and you are a wretched *๊ฒฉ์ ๋์ฐํ, ํํธ์๋ (=awful)
scheming, cold-hearted murderer. *๊ฒฉ์ ์ฑ
๋ต[๋ชจ์ฌ]์ ๊พธ๋ฏธ๋, ํ์ฑ
ํ๋
- Where do you keep your tea, Mr. Cooby?
- Uh, in the cabinet.
- You're mad.
- Thank you.
And could you please
ask Agent Lisbon to come in?
Thanks, Mr. Cooby.
You have no legal proof whatsoever.
Legal proof will be found, no doubt.
But personally, I don't need it.
I just like to know that I'm right.
Sir, put your hands
behind your back.
You're under arrest.
Let's go.
#
I knew it was you
as soon as the bomb under
your bed failed to go off.
It was too clever, Randy.
Too clever.
Don't call me Randy.
But Why would you randomly want to kill
one of your own executives?
- Doesn't make sense.
- Then Sobell was shot,
and I saw your whole game. Randy.
That's very childish.
Whittaker's death was
merely a camouflage
to disguise Sobell's death.
She's who you needed dead.
I won't say anything
until my lawyer arrives.
Suffice to say, you have no proof. *(๋ ๋ง์ ๋ง์ ํ ์ ์์ง๋ง) …๋ผ๊ณ ๋ง ํด๋ ์ถฉ๋ถํ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค
The question is,
what did Sobell have on you? ๋์ฒด ์๋ฒจ์ด ์ฅ๊ณ ์๋ ๋น์ ์ฝ์ ์ ๋ญ์์ฃ ?
- What was she going to do?
- Nothing.
That was a rhetorical question.
We know everything we need to now.
This is an affidavit from *๋ฒ๋ฅ ์ ์ ์ง์ ์
Nadia Sobell's lawyer.
Nadia was secretly
negotiating to join K.B.T.,
your number one rival.
She was also drafting a sexual *์ด์[์๊ณ ]์ ์์ฑํ๋ค
harassment suit against you
to coincide with her departure. * ๋์์ ์ผ์ด๋๋ค
That's why
she was shorting Carnelian Stock,
and that's why you needed to kill her.
Because nobody gets on top
of Randall Faulk, do they?
Nobody.
Where's my lawyer?
But I gotta tell you, the whole Joe Q.
Public ruse...
Genius.
I couldn't see how you could profit
from attacking your own company.
But you, you have vision...
Carnelian reborn and rebranded.
Everybody loves a comeback.
Everybody loves redemption.
- You have nothing.
- We have enough to rip you to pieces.
And you know it.
So before your lawyer gets here
and ties everybody's hands,
let's make a deal.
- I'm listening.
- Good.
We'll call Whittaker
Manslaughter One. *manslaughter (๊ณ ์์ ์ด ์๋) ์ด์ธ, ๊ณ ์ด (→culpable homicide, homicide, murder)
We'll forget about the bomb.
And we won't go after
the death penalty. ์ฌํ๋ ๊ตฌํํ์ง ์๊ฒ ์ต๋๋ค
In exchange for what?
#
Bills...
What is this?
Oh, my God!
์ถ์ฒ :
์์ www.coupangplay.com