01x17 - More Now

Episode transcripts for the TV show "NCIS: New Orleans". Aired: September 2014 to present.*
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A spin-off of "NCIS" that is set in the Crescent City.
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01x17 - More Now

Post by bunniefuu »

Previously on "NCIS: New Orleans"...

Lasalle: The b*mb was at table 19.

Seat eight.

We were at table 19.

And you were seat eight.

Loretta sent me info on the b*mb.

There is a signature.

It's the Broussard syndicate.

The new generation.

Sasha, Dante, Frank.

I have spent every waking moment trying to change people's association with my last name.

Paul Jenks was my C.I.

Lasalle: How you shut down the Broussards?

He was the bait.

And I needed him to reel in the big fish.

Let's talk, Baitfish.

b*mb at city park.

I don't know anything.

I put you away once.

If I look just a little, I'll find a reason to send you back.

They think I'm helping anyone, let alone you, they'll cap me.

I got to get out of h...

(expl*si*n)

I don't know who this is, but...

Paul Jenks is most probably alive.

And likely the one who bombed city park.

Must input caffeine.

(chuckles)

You want some?

Sounds good.

Then you hurry back.

Really?

Again?

If you don't stop with the excessive device checking, I won't come back.

Sorry, baby.

Probably should eat something.

And then maybe we could actually leave the condo today.

I know for some reason you want us to stay inside the whole time, but...

I'd really like to do something fun.

This is fun.

(chuckles)

Something else fun.

(grunts)

Was that a yes?

Yeah... I guess you're right.

We should just stay in.

(gasps)

Freddy.

(gasping)

Don't turn around.

Be easier for both of us that way.

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 1x17 ♪
More Now
Original Air Date on March 10, 2015

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪

Hey, King, you're not gonna believe who I ran into last night at Francisco's.

Steven Lejeune.

He's still got a limp and yes, he's still blaming you.

Pride's not here.

He step out?

I got here an hour ago. Coffee wasn't on.

Called his cell, no answer.

You try...

Texting him? Yes.

No response.

This isn't like him, right?

No.

Straight to voice mail.

You check his room?

I'm not going up there.

King.

Feels kind of wrong just busting in.

Well, don't look at anything personal.

It's all personal. It's his room.

King, you here?

What is this?

That... is obsession.

Back door lock was busted.

Just like the other break-ins.

Third one in a month.

Only difference: this time, burglar surprised husband and wife.

Pride: Wrong on two counts. First... not husband and wife. He's Dr. Freddy Barlow. She's Pam Shore. Second, the victims didn't surprise the k*ller.

He was waiting. Follow me.

And who are you, exactly?

Dwayne Pride, NCIS. New Orleans office.

See there. Depressed area in the insulation means he was here for a while.

Charleston's way out of your jurisdiction, Agent Pride.

And neither one of these victims is Navy.

Well, I'm here unofficially.

Pursuing a fugitive who's had recent contact with the doctor.

Oh, by the way, I, uh, brought some coffee.

Ham and egg biscuits.

They're downstairs if you want some.

Wait.

All due respect, you're leaning way out over your skis here, Agent Pride.

Now this here fits a pattern of burglars breaking into homes all up and down the coast.

Burglars have a body count before this one?

No.

But the condo's been ransacked.

Wallet and jewelry's missing.

Not to mention the major electronics.

Like I said, fits my pattern.

My fugitive probably read the police blotter.

Wanted you to make those exact conclusions.

Regardless, I'm not letting you take over based on some half-assed theory.

And until my captain tells me that this is no longer my case, I'd like to have my evidence back.

Oh.

My officer here will show you out.

Just keep in mind, the man I'm pursuing is dangerous.

This is just a small sample of what he's capable of.

And who exactly is this fugitive?

Paul Jenks.

Tried to k*ll me.

I call him Baitfish.

Baitfish?

One of those individuals... that just can't seem to stay dead.

Already contacted the federal marshals.

Figured I'd let you folks at the FBI know, too.

Thank you.

Put in a call to Patton.

He here yet?

Haven't seen him.

Tell me when he arrives.

King. You been gone for 36 hours.

I told you on the phone, I'm sorry I left you in the dark.

I was in South Carolina. Now I'm back.

Has it got something to do with the wall of crazy you got going on upstairs?

You went in my room.

Which is what you would have done if one of us would've went off the grid.

Baitfish.

He's back.

So I started looking into former associates of Baitfish's, keeping an eye out for any sign that he was active again.

Lester Delrey.

Former muscle for the Broussard syndicate.

I believe he was the first man to have taken Baitfish in after he faked his death.

Lived in a shotgun shack on Tchoupitoulas.

He was found m*rder*d in the alley behind his place a month ago-- sh*t three times.

NOPD said it was g*ng related, but... their report noted cheap hair dye found in Lester's bathroom.

Okay.

Okay?

So hair dye.

Lester's car was stolen.

Found abandoned off the highway.

In the trunk, the body of...

Brody: Brendan Harvey-- served two years for forgery.

Passports and driver's licenses.

Also former syndicate.

k*lled by a single b*llet to the head.

So Baitfish changes hair color, gets a new identity.

And then, a week later, dead Brendan Harvey's insurance gets billed for an appointment with Dr. Freddy Barlow.

Uptown orthopedist.

Why would a wanted fugitive take the time to visit an orthopedist?

Bad knee from all that running.

I went to see him two days ago.

However, he didn't show up for work.

Took an abrupt and indefinite leave.

To South Carolina.

I took the red-eye last night, hoping to find out a connection.

King, when exactly were you planning on letting us know about this?

Look, I'm way down the rabbit hole.

Working on a hunch.

I wanted to be sure before I dragged anyone else with me.

You're sure now.

It's him. It's Baitfish.

Each body that I follow leads me to another one.

Baitfish is up to something. I-I just don't know what.

Patton (in distance): The cavalry has arrived.

All right.

Coming right down.

Oh, before I got kicked out of the Charleston crime scene, I had eyes on Dr. Barlow's phone.

He called a single number about seven times in the hours before he d*ed.

Fourth Street Clinic. Urgent care for the poor.

Check out the clinic.

See if it's the connection between Baitfish and Freddy Barlow.

Patton: Got your message.

The doctor's phone SIM card?

Pride, how you get it?

By my mind, that's supposed to be property of the Charleston PD.

Borrowed it.

You stole it.

"Stole" implies that you have no intention of giving it back.

You say tomato, I say stole. (chuckles)

(laughs) Yeah, you know, it's been a long time since I seen your bad side.

Me likey-like.

I need everything about Dr. Freddy Barlow.

Any secrets he's got that might link him to Baitfish.

Hey, you give me the SIM card and a pot of Darjeeling tea, I'll suck up every piece of dirt like a Hoover.

It's one thing to have me look into local cases already closed, but now we're skipping jurisdictions and stealing other men's homicides?

Were you able to get Freddy Barlow's autopsy notes?

Lucky for you, I'm still in favorable terms with the Charleston M.E.

I hear through the grapevine that you have a conspiracy wall?

No, no conspiracy anything.

Oh, you don't have to be bashful. I got several myself.

One I'm currently working on ties the Illuminati to the owners of all 30 Major League Baseball teams.

I got some extra string if you need it.

No, what I need is to connect this m*rder to Paul Jenks.

The Charleston M.E. made a cursory examination, concluding that both Freddy Barlow and Pam Shore were sh*t with a .22, close range.

Any mention of contact abrasions near the entry wound?

No, the Charleston crime lab found no trace evidence on the scene, but they did run ballistics on the slugs.

The g*ns match either of the murders?

No, and there's been no hit in NIBIN yet, either.

But that doesn't mean there's not gonna be a hit, though the chances are slim to none.

But that's... that's still a chance, right?

Why don't I go monitor the search?

Thank you.

I feel as if you and I have a new, deeper bond.

You heard him, right? No ballistic match.

Baitfish must have changed weapons.

I've seen you in this mode before.

Mode?

The "nothing else matters" look, the not sleeping, not eating.

You withdraw.

You shut the world out.

I'm fine.

No, you're not, Dwayne.

Jenks.

He's like a virus to you. It's in your blood.

He almost k*lled my daughter.

Came closer with her boyfriend.

I need this-- proof I'm right-- so that I can find him and end this.

You get me access to Dr. Barlow's body.

If there's proof, I'll find it.

Thank you... sweet Loretta.

Brody: Excuse me.

Have you seen this man here before?

Thank you.

Hi. Have you seen this man here before?

Excuse me, Miss?

Don't know nothing.

I didn't ask you anything yet.

Then ask.

Seen this man before?

Maybe changed his hair color, style of clothes?

No.

Didn't even look.

Can I go now?

Sasha: What are you doing?

Just asking your patients a few questions.

No, what you're doing is scaring them off.

Flashing your badges and intimidating them.

They have anything to be afraid of?

This is an urgent care clinic for the destitute.

We're here to treat them, not interrogate them.

Have you treated this man here before?

His name is Paul Jenks.

Doesn't look familiar.

Do you recognize this man?

That's Dr. Barlow. He's here two days a week.

Yesterday morning, he called here seven times over the course of an hour.

Was that usual?

I wasn't on schedule yesterday, but it's not odd for Dr. Barlow to check in regularly.

Now, please, tell me what happened.

Dr. Freddy Barlow, model citizen.

Nothing in his life suggests he'd cross paths with a career criminal like Paul Jenks.

Except Pride says he did.

Yeah, well, "Pride says he did" isn't reason enough for us to investigate a case that doesn't belong to us.

He stole an SD card off a crime scene.

He's negotiating the transfer of a body that doesn't belong to us.

He's got his reasons.

You're telling me you're not worried?

I'm telling you, worried or not, we keep looking.

Hey, Pride?

Talk to me.

Man, I spent my afternoon availing myself of Freddy's SD card.

I found out that this doctor did a poor job maintaining his e-mail accounts.

There was over 450 e-mails, a few of particular interest.

"Paul Jenks is not what he seems."

"The man is using you."

"Both of you need to back off now." What...?

There's your connection between Freddy Barlow and Baitfish.

Who sent the e-mails?

Nobody.

Technically, a cloned phone.

They're using the account information of a bank teller in Duluth who's paying way too much for her data plan, I might add...

However...

However, the cloned phone is here in beautiful Louisiana.

It resides currently at the Federal Penitentiary at Slidell.

I can show you the cell block.

Don't bother.

I got a pretty good idea who owns that phone.

Pride: Frank Broussard.

Figured it'd be a cold day in hell before I laid eyes on you again.

Tell me about Dr. Freddy Barlow.

No clue who that is.

No?

'Cause you've been sending him cryptic e-mails on this phone.

C.O.s found it stuffed inside your mattress.

You've been communicating with Dr. Barlow about Paul Jenks.

Now Dr. Barlow's dead.

Dead? Huh.

Interesting.

Gonna try to pin that one on me, too?

Just like the gala bombing.

My trial starts next month, by the way.

I know that Jenks set you up.

I need your help to catch him, which will also prove that you're mostly innocent.

You gonna cut me a deal.

Nothing on the bombing, less on the dr*gs.

I'm on the phone with the U.S. Attorney soon as I leave.

I want it in writing, ironclad and approved by my lawyer.

And then you're gonna give me everything you know about Paul Jenks.

I want him served on a platter.

(doorbell rings)

I'm assuming this isn't a social call.

I need to tell you something about your cousin Frank.

Woman: How soon will he get out?

Deal's not worked out yet.

Trading calls with the U.S. Attorney.

He'll serve some time for the dr*gs, and...

And the day he gets out, he'll come for me.

I'm not gonna let that happen.

We'll make it part of the deal.

Can't come within a thousand yards.

You said Frank planted that b*mb.

I was wrong.

Jenks set the b*mb.

Your cousin was the patsy.

Kind of feels like I'm the patsy.

(sighs)

But it's starting again?

The Syndicate.

That's what I think.

Paul Jenks-- he... he wants to start up where your family left off.

I'll make sure you're protected.

No.

Uh-uh. When I separated myself from my family, I swore that I would lead a normal life.

You've always been strong.

Only way to survive in my family.

As Dwayne predicted, Freddy Barlow was k*lled at close range.

Note the stippling and burn marks around the entry wound.

And the diameter is wide and misshapen.

Maybe, uh, PVC pipe.

And there was also debris on the inside of the wound.

Yeah, traces of, uh, newspaper, steel wool and gaffers tape.

k*ller devised some kind of sound suppressor.

Just like the two other murders Pride has connected to Baitfish.

I can't say for sure it was Baitfish, but the same man k*lled all three victims.

Still don't understand why Baitfish would have k*lled Dr. Barlow.

He was a civilian.

Uh, we have a theory about that.

During my examination, I noticed inflammation on the tissues on the inside of the lungs and throat.

It's consistent with chemical burns.

For example, Oxycodone.

Was Freddy Barlow a drug addict?

No. Tox screen was clean.

But he spent a significant amount of time around dr*gs, inhaling fumes.

Like you might if you were in the business of manufacturing illicit narcotics.

So, if he wasn't using, maybe he was dealing. Thanks.

I'm telling Pride.

(playing gentle jazz music)

Seven minutes.

Excuse me?

U.S. Attorney told me he'd close the deal in 20 minutes, and... that was 13 minutes ago.

I brought you a sandwich.

Been talking to Loretta, huh?

Sophie Brooks was nine years old when Baitfish k*lled her.

That's on me. I own that.

Every life he's taken since--

Herbert Walker, Allison Lacroix, Lester Delrey, Brandon Harvey, the doctor, Pam Shore...

He's a transient. We don't even know his name.

Calvin Trask.

I asked Wade to forward his remains to a friend of mine who works at the FBI lab at Quantico, specializes in biometric analysis.

I'm not Lasalle.

I... You and I don't share any kind of past, but I just want you to know I've got your back.

I know that.

And I'm not leaving until you eat half of that sandwich.

(chuckles)

You really want me to eat something, you... go with Mortadella.

Bologna is what they give you in central booking.

(chuckles)

(phone ringing)

Five minutes early.

I'm impressed.

What?

When?

We'll be there.

What is it?

Frank Broussard is dead.
Man: These incidents happen quick.

Inmates on their way to the yard. There was a commotion.

Where were the guards?

Like I say, these things happen quick.

Is there a suspect?

Man: Name's Red Carter.

My men found him standing over Broussard's body.

Mmm. That punk's been stepping to me since the day he arrived.

He disrespected you?

He had a mouth on him.

That don't stand in here.

Well, how did Frank disrespect you exactly?

How did he step to you?

Mm. Let's just say his people and my people don't get along.

Who are his people?

Aryan Brotherhood?

Dixie Mafia, the Mongols, the Low Riders?

It's all the same to me. Pale is pale.

What w*apon did you use?

My cut.

What was it?

A shiv.

Which is another word for cut.

What kind, Red?

How'd you get it into the yard?

Did you have an accomplice?

I...

Not so fast.

Would you like a burger, Officer Lorna?

More for me, then.

I'll take them home.

You know, when I got here, I was convinced that someone had hired you to k*ll Frank.

I told you.

The man got in my face...

I saw your record.

You were transferred here a week ago from minimum security.

You don't have people, don't have a rep.

Figured you'd make your bones by confessing to a m*rder you didn't commit.

Mm-mm.

Maybe get yourself a free lunch.

I k*lled that man.

What w*apon did you use?

Sharpened toothbrush.

Wrong answer, Red.

Frank's k*ller didn't k*ll Frank.

False confession.

I left Brody at Slidell to find the real suspect.

We're gonna get him, King.

Yeah, well, I agree with the "gonna get him," but I don't know about the "we."

While you guys were out there having a bonding moment, I was digging deep into Freddy Barlow's life, looking for a connection to dr*gs.

And?

I think I found it. Fourth Street Clinic sees maybe 300 patients a week, but they receive shipments of prescription dr*gs for a lot more than that.

Lot of Oxy.

Central City was Frank Broussard's territory.

He gets sent away...

Leaves a vacuum in the narcotics business.

Baitfish steps in.

Yeah, maybe Baitfish makes contact with Dr. Barlow to order the Oxy and uses the clinic for cover.

Brings the Oxy in through the front door legally, cut them, and then send it out the back door to the dealers.

We got to hit that clinic now.

Let's roll.

You're welcome.

Huh.

What?

Well, that's weird. Nobody's here.

This place was jammed yesterday.

They moved out fast, huh?

(quiet thump)

Put your hands up where I can see them.

NCIS!

Put your hands up.

Cool it, cowboy.

I'm a Fed.

A*F confirmed. She checks out.

Special Agent Sonja Percy.

Hey, keep your voice down, a'ight?

Can we get out of here? Feeling exposed.

Feel free to rough me up some.

What?

Bounce me off the door, take a swing, go with whatever makes it clear that you and I just plain don't like each other.

You really commit to the role, huh?

You think I ran from you boys for my health?

What the hell is NCIS doing sniffing around the Fourth Street Clinic anyway?

We think it may be connected to a fugitive I've been hunting.

Name is Paul Jenks.

What's your angle here, anyway?

g*ng I'm circling moves g*ns.

Move dr*gs, too, out of this place and another clinic on 12th Street, but nothing a couple Navy cops should care about.

This guy-- what'd he do?

Steal an admiral's car or something?

He k*lled two people within the last three days.

Body count may be as high as six.

We're trying to figure out where he is and his next move.

Seen him here once or twice.

Figured he was a boss.

Had a short conversation, pitched myself as a girl who gets things done.

We need to see your surveillance and intelligence reports.

Everything.

I'm supposed to help you?

Cooperate, yes. (scoffs)

"Cooperate" suggests I had some say in what's going on.

Eight months I've been living out a crap shack.

Making connects, seeking my bona fides.

Earning this g*ng's trust inch by inch.

Now they gone.

How's the doctor play into this?

Doctor had no idea this place was a clinic by day and pill mill by night.

Someone tipped him a few days ago.

Good doctor found out his DEA number was being used to order Oxys in bulk, man was on a warpath.

Frank Broussard tipped him off.

Hoping to shut Jenks down.

All he managed to do was get Freddy Barlow k*lled.

You're gonna take my case away.

You got to trust us.

(scoffs) I ain't got to do nothing, all right?

That being said, what I heard... Jenks has got a financier.

Guy named Leone.

Man behind the curtain.

Okay.

So? What you gonna give me?

Do you think, uh, we're working together on this?

(chuckles)

I think you gonna owe me.

I'm not handing over the fruits of my labor 'cause I like your haircut.

Now don't mess up the order, 'cause I got it organized in a particular way.

We'll treat it as if it was our own child.

I can give you a lift.

Nah, I'll take public service.

From here? You don't want to do that.

Look, I'll put the cuffs back on you and you can ride in the back.

Cuffs or not, I'm keeping my distance from you, Lasalle.

What's that supposed to mean?

Let's just say your reputation precedes you.

My reputation?

Have we had a bad date I don't recall?

No, but a friend of mine did.

Billie Boutros.

Okay, let me explain.

She said, "Chris Lasalle ain't nothing but a smile and a stream of empty promises."

Now, that ain't fair.

Got to wear Kevlar on your heart around that man.

Look, Billie Boutros-- I mean, can you believe everything she says?

Well, she also said when it comes to work, you're the best cop she ever knew.

First man through the door, last one out.

And the only guy you need when a job goes sideways.

Like I said, Little BB?

Her word is as good as gold.

Mm. (chuckles)

Cute.

What am I looking at?

The breakdown of the various chemicals inside Freddy Barlow's throat and lungs.

Not just Oxy?

No. So much more.

This compound is a mixture of Oxy and-and seven other distinct elements.

Makes it as unique a formula as a soft drink or a special sauce.

I pulled data from area hospitals, police districts and the DEA-- drug overdoses, seizures-- and I mapped every single occurrence of this particular compound in the city.

This drug isn't just being dealt in the Fourth Street Clinic.

It's everywhere.

Undercover agent we met mentioned the 12th Street Clinic.

Can you put that up on the map?

Yeah.

It's dead center in one of the clusters.

Pull up the other free clinics.

Sebastian: How's that for a conspiracy?

Half a dozen free clinics in New Orleans and all of them dealing high quality Oxy.

I am totally blogging about this.

Soon as the case is closed.

Baitfish isn't starting an empire.

Already well on his way.

I have spoken to every prisoner, corrections officer and administrator who might have had any kind of interaction with Frank Broussard before he d*ed.

Any luck?

Seems like Frank was k*lled in the one spot in that prison where no one could see him.

Loading area with restricted access.

Inmate couldn't even be there without a C.O. present.

What's all this?

Six months of surveillance from the Fourth Street Clinic, courtesy of A*F's lippiest undercover agent.

Well, whoever did this was thorough.

I've identified three of these guys coming out of the pill mill.

Petty crooks.

Former syndicate.

The other two fellas I don't recognize.

Wait a minute. I know that guy.

Just saw him at the Slidell prison.

Is he an inmate?

A guard. I was sitting across from him all day.

Got a name to go with his face?

Lorna. Had access to Frank Broussard.

Maybe he drug Frank into the restricted area of the prison, stabbed him and then walked away.

Got an address.

I'm calling Pride.

I got the back.

Milton Lorna.

Open up. Federal agents.

Brody: Clear.

Clear.

Not here, King.

Damn.

He was recently.

Looks like he's a pill head.

Would explain how Baitfish got his hooks into him.

Lasalle: I'll call NOPD, put out a BOLO.

He won't get far.

I know where he's going.

(phone ringing)

(screaming)

(screams)

(shuddering breaths)

Code four.

(crying)

(camera clicking)

I need to take those.

Strictly protocol.

There were some papers over there.

There were contracts I was supposed to sign.

Yeah, I'm afraid that's all evidence now.

Who was he?

Prison guard from Slidell.

Likely he k*lled Frank.

And tried to k*ll me?

He's working for Jenks.

Figure Jenks has been... cleaning house.

Hmm.

He's been taking out syndicate members.

But I'm not a syndicate member.

Well, Jenks must've figured you knew something important.

Because of you.

My cousin's dead.

I almost d*ed.

Ended up k*lling someone.

No matter what I do, nothing changes.

Can I go?

I need to find a place to stay tonight.

What can you tell me?

Sasha's a good sh*t, kicked Lorna's ass.

All three b*ll*ts in one tight grouping.

Good for her.

Any leads on Baitfish?

NOPD and DEA are checking the other clinics.

Lasalle went back to the office, see what they came up with.

Lorna's cell phone.

Got a text from an unknown caller about an hour before he showed up.

It says, "Tell me when it's done."

From Baitfish?

Well, what are you waiting for?

Tell the man it's done.

NOPD and DEA hit the other clinics being used as pill mills.

All were cleared out, just like the one on Fourth Street.

Baitfish is on the move. He's going underground.

Well, pill mills might be closed, but the dr*gs are still out there.

(grunts)

No text from Jenks?

Man's a fugitive. Hunted.

Yet he manages to set up his own little cartel.

Takes money, ground support, intelligence.

Something that he is in short supply of.

Maybe it's this partner of his that Sonja mentioned.

Leone.

Which might explain what I've learned.

I've done some research.

These clinics share more in common than being drug fronts.

Each one of them was set up on condemned property after Katrina.

Part of the urban renewal and rebuilding effort by the city.

Each one funded by this real estate corporation, partnership of various trusts.

It's a maze of shell corporations and tax shelters.

Suggests that very big money financed this operation.

Baitfish-- he's the kind of guy to have access to big money?

(phone chimes)

Brody: What does Baitfish have to say?

An address. Near the Wharfs.

Let's roll him up.

I count three guys.

Make that four.

Loading boxes.

It's probably the Oxy.

Any sign of Baitfish?

Not that I could see, but there's someone in the truck.

When's NOPD get here?

On their way now, five to ten minutes.

(engine starts)

King, they're hauling out.

We can't wait.

Move now. You take the crew, I got the truck.

Hands in the air!

Brody: Federal agents!

Stay on the ground!

(siren wailing)

(tires screeching)

Christopher, I heard sh*ts.

Lasalle: Everybody's good, King.

(tires screeching)

(siren stops)

Jenks!

Hands where I can see them!

Now, Jenks!

Where is he?

Where's Baitfish?

Gone.

Somebody tipped him the heat was on.

How'd you end up here?

g*ng I've been circling finally circled back, offered a piece of work.

And you didn't think to warn me?

Didn't have time.

(sirens wailing in distance)

Where you taking the pills?

Someplace safe for now.

Look, Pride, I'm on the inside.

We can make this work.

We can get him.

I've known you for, like, six seconds.

Well, you gonna have to trust me.

(sirens approaching)

For all we know, Baitfish has someone inside the NOPD, has eyes on us right now.

(sirens approaching)

Got a g*n?

Yeah.

Fire a couple sh*ts.

Leave some shells behind.

Don't worry, I'll miss.

Appreciate that.

You go right.

My right?

Yeah.

(tires screeching)

(sirens approaching)

(piano playing "Round Midnight")

(music stops)

Lasalle, Brody.

Leone.

Baitfish's partner?

Sort of.

It's Italian for "lion."

All these clinics bankrolled by a charitable trust.

Follow the money back, you'll find a shell corporation in the Caymans-- the Latendale Group.

Insignia's... a lion's head.

The Latendale group's only shareholder... is Sasha Broussard.

(footsteps approaching)

Got your message.

You gonna pick her up? Sasha?

I don't have enough.

Yet.

I grab her now, she'll lawyer up, and then she'll walk.

(clears throat)

You should order something.

Oh, you kidding?

I'm vegan.

Hey, a girl's allowed to be complex, isn't she?

You should eat, though.

You heard from Baitfish?

I will.

He's hobbled.

My guess, he saw the walls closing in, started cleaning up people, including his partner, Sasha.

I want them both.

Rock solid evidence.

Arrests, convictions... life-long prison sentences.

I'll be in touch. Soon.

Time passes
♪ You learn right from wrong... ♪

Man: Should've let Jenks burn.

Sasha: They arrest him, he gives them us.

I didn't have a choice but to warn him.

Mm.

Are you coming out here anytime soon?

'Cause it feels like I am talking to a wall.

Just making myself pretty.

You're pretty enough.

♪ You make your own heaven and hell... ♪
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