Prisoner X

1

- Delta 1, we

got a 10-53 at mile 37.

Stand by.

It's a black Nisan maxima.

Alberta license plate, yr1 9142.

- Copy.

It's Alen vehicle,

suspect could be armed.

- Copy that.

Searching the vehicle now.

Code 9. Code 9.

I found some metal disks

hidden in the trunk.

We're gonna need a special unit.

- Copy.

Central's been alerted.

- Hello?

- Sir, Comissioner

of border control here.

- Yes, Michael, what is it?

- About 20

minutes ago a man was taken

into custody in Montana

not far from the border.

He was trying to smuggle

in around 10-pounds

of weapons-grade uranium.

- I am speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

I am speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

I am speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

Speaking to you.

- Tough son of a

b*tch, ain't he?

- By now he should be

on his knees begging us

to let him confess.

- Push harder.

This should do it.

- What is it? KH-5?

- The enhanced version.

It attacks the nerve cells

even faster and the pain

is ten-times worse.

No one's lasted more

than a couple minutes.

I give him five, tops.

What the hell?

- Maybe we should up the dosage.

- No.

Max, get the hell out of there.

Let's get blood work done,

let's run every test possible.

I k we're dealing

with a far bigger problem

than a few pounds of uranium.

Synthetic genes?

Nano devices?

- All that's missing

is a battery pack.

Is this guy even human?

Is he, asking...

- Pen and paper.

Max.

Any ideas?

- Coordinates to me.

- These l

yeah, supernovae, comets.

Something like that.

I had a thing about

astronomy in high school.

I have no idea what these are.

- I think they're dates.

- Dates.

- Yeah.

We live in the year 1433

according to e Islamic calendar.

Looks like our prisoner can

predict celestial events.

It's 140-years into the future.

- Bullshit.

- The first day on

the list is tomorrow.

Oh, look at that!

I'll be damned.

- The star blew

up exactly where he said.

What do you think, Fischer?

Who the f*** is this guy?

- As insane as it sounds,

I think he's from the future.

There is no other

explanation for it.

- A

time-travelling terrorist.

That doesn't sound scary at all.

- Agent Carmen Reese.

Well it's nice

and quiet up here.

Almost makes one

believe that all is

peachy in the world out there.

If you need me I'll be outside.

- Oh, Fischer.

Why am I not surprised?

- Forgive the intrusion, Carmen,

but you left me no choice.

In the envelope is the

directive terminating

your leave of absence,

effective immediately.

- Since when did

you become my boss?

- It's signed by the president.

- Well you can tell the

president that I've decided

not to return to my job.

- Well you can tell

him that yourself.

But first I need

you to hear me out.

The data disk contains

a brief on a prisoner

I've been working

with for years.

An extraordinarily-dangerous

individual who holds the fate

of our world in his hands.

- So that was your

top-secret assignment?

- Look, I kept you out

of it for your own good.

Yeah.

Now I'm desperate.

I need help.

- You've got the entire

agency at your disposal.

- I need someone I trust.

- Are you okay?

- Whoa.

Um...

Things have gotten

strange, Carmen.

And I feel like I'm

losing my mind but,

I'm this close to

figuring it all out.

- Fischer, don't you get it?

I'm in no position to help you.

- I know you're still looking

for answers for what happened.

Trust me, I know how it feels

to be haunted by the

what-ifs and if-onlys.

To be tormented by

1,000 imaginary pasts.

What if I told you

your imagination

can be made real, Carmen?

Look, if there's one thing

I've learned from this prisoner

that I know to be

true is that time,

time is not what

it seems, Carmen.

Time is nothing.

Please, help me.

- That's the marine barracks.

For a special ops battalion.

122 men.

Luckily we haven't had

much use for them so far.

I'm field station

captain Paul Williams.

- Agent Reese.

- Welcome to the sandbox.

Here's your keycard.

Your com access has

been set up as well.

- Air lock?

- Sandbox is a

nuke-proof facility.

You can't be too

careful these days.

Fischer's been paged.

He'll meet you on

the other side.

- Thank you.

- Can I help you, ma'am?

- Uh yeah, I'm looking

for agent Fischer.

- Friendly guys.

- - Sorry.

We don't get many

women down here.

You know agent Fischer well?

- Yeah, he was my mentor when

I joined the agency years ago.

Likes to think he still is.

- It's this one.

Agent Fischer,

Pfc Sullivan here.

I have a visitor for you, sir.

Yeah, he's a cool guy.

He shares smokes with

us, tells us jokes.

- Fischer can be a funny

guy when he wants to.

- I'll call him.

- Yeah.

Fischer!

Williams, I'm

looking for Fischer.

Do you know where he is?

Fischer?

- Hold on.

The last time he

used his keycard

was to enter his apartment.

But that was two days ago.

- Fischer?

- Agent Carmen Reese.

- Commander Jefferson.

- That's right.

I'm the one supposedly

in charge here.

Why didn't Fischer tell

me you were coming?

- Oh, I don't know, sir.

I'm sure if he didn't tell

you he had his reasons.

- Well he's been

avoiding me all week.

Now he goes and kills himself.

- You know,

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