02x02 - Shadow Unit

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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02x02 - Shadow Unit

Post by bunniefuu »

♪ ♪
♪ Hey, everyone ♪
♪ Gotta keep on marching on ♪
♪ Well, hey, hey, hey, everyone ♪
♪ Gotta keep on marching on and on and on... ♪
♪ ♪

(shower running)

(crowd chatter in distance)

(clattering nearby)

(clattering nearby)

(crowd chatter in distance)

(clattering)

(silenced g*nshots, man grunting)

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 2x02 ♪
Shadow Unit
Original Air Date on September 29, 2015

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

Lasalle: Smooth motions.

Keep a rhythm.

Get Pride bought a bar, working out a new phase in his life; I also get chipping in before work, help him set the place up-- but what I don't get is why I'm the only one laboring.

(groans): Uh, I'm in recovery.

Remember? 'Cause Pride sh*t me?

You don't watch it, I'm gonna sh**t you next.

So, uh, what's your excuse, Merri?

I know it may look like I'm slacking, but we've got you doing advanced field training.

Testing my carpentry skills?

Nope. Multitasking.

If I tell you I went to the MCRD to see the RTB to meet the SDI...

You'd go to the Marine Corps Depot to the Recruit Training Battalion to see the Senior Drill Instructor.

Marine captain enters a Navy captain's berth on a ship.

Who salutes first?

Typically, Marine salutes sailor--

Navy captain has rank-- but in this case, no one salutes... because they're indoors.

(whispers): Poof.

Goat locker.

What is it?

The, uh... goat locker... is where you store... your goats.

Chief petty officer's galley and sleeping area (phone chirps) on a ship.

Terminology may not matter in the A*F, but it's the lifeblood of the Navy.

I get it.

For instance, uh, what's the term for this new lady you've been seeing?

I know a lot of ladies.

Uh, you brought in your nice jacket yesterday.

The Commander's Palace jacket.

Oh.

That's his big third-date move.

Well, the move was clearly successful, because, um... (sniffing)

I can still smell her perfume.

She's classy. (sniffs)

Creed Royal.

She's a professional.

Doctor?

Lawyer.

Banker, if you must know.

Mm. - Mm.

And it was a first date.

Beer and crawfish don't work on these white-collar types.

Oh.

And as much as I'm enjoying you snooping into my personal life, it's a text from King.

Body at Monteleone.

Get our game face on.

Pride: Victim's name was Jonah Penn.

Couple of conventioneers spotted him on his balcony this morning, thought he was passed out.

Called hotel security.

Place is a mess.

Penn some kind of sailor on leave?

Blogger from Pittsburgh.

Why call us?

Follow me.

Top secret Navy documents-- the real deal.

Or at least they were.

Gone now.

Whoa. What's a blogger from Pittsburgh doing with Navy documents?

I'll call Intel, get into it.

(phone beeps)

Maintenance had to break in this morning.

According to hotel records...

Penn's key card was the only one used to enter this room in the last couple of days.

Door was bolted from the inside.

No other access point to the room.

How'd the suspect get in?

NOPD found traces of high-density nylon rope on the roof.

(camera shutter clicking)

(whistles)

That joker rappelled down?

It would explain the vertical trajectory of the entry wounds.

He was sh*t three times from above.

Some ninja moves!

No one saw?

Avoided every witness and surveillance camera in the hotel.

Three sh*ts to the chest.

Tight grouping-- looks professional.

Maybe professional; far from impersonal.

The k*ller cut out Penn's tongue, postmortem...

(camera shutter clicking)

...placed it in his palm.

(camera shutter clicking)

I'll bet you never saw a tongue-ectomy in A*F.

There's got to be some Intel missing, (car alarm chirps) 'cause I got a... an empty top secret jacket.

I appreciate that.

(horn beeps)

I appreciate that, Admiral.

'Cause I have a lot of questions.

(trombone playing)

Making house calls now?

Yeah, I had to come see you right away.

I know your dead guy, Jonah Penn.

What?

Well, not know in the conventional sense of having a relationship or personal interaction or any sort of history.

What other sense is there?

(sighs) Well, we were virtual acquaintances.

In the Skep-Con community.

It's skeptics and conspiracy theorists.

Penn was a superstar.

He exposed corruption and cover-ups all over the government.

You were in contact with him?

Well, no, but he blogged that he was going on the road for some big story.

He bragged that he was gonna blow the lid off of... the “twisted psyche of the American m*llitary machine.”

He had a flair for the dramatic.

You're thinking this story had something to do with the Navy?

Well...

So, I ran ballistics on the slugs that Loretta pulled from Penn's body.

Nine-millimeter, 147-grain NATO rounds.

Subsonic, laced with depleted uranium.

Sound-suppressing, armor-piercing.

m*llitary.

I traced the b*ll*ts back to a batch that the Navy requisitioned for a special mission code-named Operation Sawback.

What's Operation Sawback?

I have no idea.

It's compartmented way above my clearance-- which is not very high, and actually I've been meaning to talk to you about that.

Sebastian.

But I did find out the name of the unit involved.

Pride: Shadow Unit.

Navy SEALs.

Your m*rder*r is among one of the best-trained K*llers in the world.

Jonah Penn was m*rder*d with b*ll*ts designated for a Navy SEAL team--

Shadow Unit-- in a mission called Sawback.

There's a good chance our suspect is a SEAL.

Got to be careful.

And move fast.

Navy better cooperate. They won't even admit documents are missing.

What more do we know about our reporter, Penn?

Freelance journalist in town working on his story.

Got any line on his story?

He was tight-lipped.

Protecting his “get.” Family and friends didn't even know he was in New Orleans.

What'd you get off Penn's laptop?

Nothing. Wiped clean.

Wrong, wrong.

So damn wrong.

I assure you, no one wiped anything clean.

That's-that's not even a thing.

There's not even an e-mail on this laptop.

Yeah, well, we live in the age of the NSA.

We got eavesdropping, anonymous hackers... let's face it, people like me who sneak on your computer without you even knowing.

So he changed his computer out?

As much as he changes his T-shirts.

He keeps his files in a cloud.

Can you retrieve anything?

I'm a little hurt you even doubt it.

(smacks lips)

(beeping)

Loretta.

You and me.

Chris, SEAL team Shadow Unit is stationed out of Stennis Space Center.

Take Percy.

You got it, King.

Lasalle: So, about SEALs.

Sea, Air, Land.

Already know.

That's about as much as they'll let you know.

They don't talk easy and they don't trust outsiders.

Look...

I spent my entire career earning the trust of gunrunners and biker gangs.

I got my ways.

SEALs operate at a higher level of distrust.

Sort of like Fight Club.

Oh, like, “First rule of SEALs, don't talk about SEALs”?

I'm just preparing you.

It's gonna take a little more than your “way”" to open 'em up.

w*r...

w*r...

Eagle! Hey!

Eagle! Hey!

(laughing) Why didn't you tell me the newbie's a fellow Tiger?

I'm just finding out about it myself.

He's from 'Bama.

Roll Tide.

You know, my time at Auburn really defined my character.

Made me who I am today.

So, Operation Sawback?

Happy to read you in.

Especially since it's declassified.

And since you're a fellow Tiger, I can save you the trouble of reading a 3,000-page file.

Appreciate that.

First off, it wasn't our op.

CIA mission.

They oversaw; we provided support.

Sawback was strictly humanitarian.

There we go.

Ejército Del Pueblo.

Army of the People.

Paramilitary group in Bolivia, a place called San Martel.

Muscle for the drug lords.

Rooting out resistance and terrorize the locals.

Sent in a small team of SEALs, Shadow Unit.

Dropped in, protected the locals, dismantled the PA-- rousing success.

If it was such a success, why was Jonah Penn so interested in it?

Penn was a bottom-feeder, always looking for negative spin.

Bad blood?

I spend my days surrounded by the enemy in hostile territory.

It takes more than bad press to hurt my feelings.

There's a big old “but” coming.

But... there's not a single sailor or Marine whose safety wasn't compromised by Penn and the lies he printed over the years.

Which could explain why three rounds of a*mo slated for Sawback ended up in Penn's chest.

Are you suggesting one of my men was involved?

I'm suggesting that you give us the identity of every member of Shadow Unit and their last known whereabouts.

The methodology of this m*rder is cold, professional.

Removal of the victim's tongue was surgical.

(exhales) k*ller took care, like he'd practiced this before.

What can you tell us about the Kn*fe?

Sharp. Non-serrated.

That's about all.

However, judging by the inflammation of Mr. Penn's stomach lining, I can say that he suffered from ulcers.

There was scar tissue and several gastrinoma.

Someone who suffers from this severe a condition would be prescribed a very bland diet.

Yet this is what I found in his stomach.

Fatty beef, chorizo sausage, lard, locoto peppers.

South American food.

Bolivian, to be exact.

Operation Sawback took place in Bolivia.

Sebastian pulled Mr. Penn's room service charges.

Oatmeal, grilled salmon, skinless chicken.

He was not eating spicy at the hotel.

Where he got the food could lead us to what track he was on for his story.

Sebastian: So I count three straight-up Bolivian places.

I'll e-mail you the list.

Thanks.

Personal favor?

These have been mailed to me anonymously.

Does that make you the Jackal?

Nickname in high school.

Long story.

Mine was Mr. Butternut.

Also... long story.

Looks like you had fun back then.

Yeah, only I wasn't in the original version of these photos.

I think someone altered them.

Well, the inpainting is perfect.

Seam carving, too.

Are you... sure this isn't you?

These are all my sister's friends.

The one who passed away.

They added me in her place, after she d*ed.

Is there any way you can track where these came from?

Yeah. No, I'm-I'm happy to take a look.

Thank you.

Oh, actually, you know what, I also have a bit of a favor.

sh**t.

I heard what the SEALs said about Penn, about how he falsified sources and it got him fired, but that's not the truth.

Penn quit the newspaper when they tried to edit a story that he was writing.

He had integrity.

Penn was important to you.

Yeah, a while ago, he-he wrote about these contractors in Iraq who were taking kickbacks.

Took him two years to singlehandedly trace the scandal back to several congressmen.

He saw a conspiracy when everyone else turned away.

Penn had a voice.

Let's find out what he wanted to say.

This man-- his name is Penn? I don't know, maybe he came in, maybe not, we have a lot of customers.

Yeah, well, not many came in for lunch three days in a row this week.

He must have liked my cooking.

Your name's Edgar Baco.

This is your place. I spoke with two of your waitresses, they both confirmed that Penn came in to see you.

And now he's dead.

Soon I will be, too.

Because... death is following me all the way from San Martel, Bolivia.

That why Penn came to see you?

He was curious about the tragedy of San Martel.

You are, too?

I know about what the People's Army did to your town.

Well, the PA demanded money for protection from the cartels.

The very men they worked for.

Our lives were worthless.

Until the U.S. m*llitary intervened.

Yes, the Americans came.

They told us we had nothing left to worry about.

The PA would be stopped.

That turned out to be a lie.

A man came early in the morning.

He rounded up seven of our leaders and accused them of cooperating with the enemy.

He sh*t them, cut out their tongues.

One of the People's Army.

No.

He was one of yours.

Sent to protect us.

The rumor was that the PA paid him off.

To send a message.

To remind us that we would never be safe again.

I-I left, I... came here.

Where good people like you are still outraged by the savagery of the world.

Is there anyone else who can confirm your story?

Sí.

Travis Dalton.

Speak to him.

He'll tell you.

I've been managing director of The Westmar Relief Group now for, uh, about three years.

(bell jingles)

We provide food, medicine, support to Latin Americans hardest hit by w*r and poverty.

People like Edgar Baco?

We brought Edgar back from Bolivia.

Helped set him up his restaurant.

The American dream.

After San Martel?

The Navy send you?

Nobody sends me, Mr. Dalton.

I'm here investigating the m*rder of Jonah Penn.

Penn was working on a story.

We think he was k*lled because what he was writing about had to do with a m*llitary operation in San Martel.

Well, some stories are just too dangerous to tell.

Like the execution of seven men?

By someone on your people's payroll.

You got proof of that?

Here's your proof.

It's what Jonah Penn was writing about.

There.

The money sh*t.

Check the insignia.

Pride: SEALs.

You show these photos to the Navy?

I just got 'em.

From Jonah Penn.

He brought these to me last week, asked me to tell him what I saw.

And where did Penn get the photos?

Wouldn't tell me.

And even if he did, I wouldn't tell you.

Talking about this... could make me your k*ller's next victim.

Now, if what Baco and Dalton say is true, we're not just investigating a m*rder anymore.

Yeah, it's a w*r crime.

(phone chirps)

No, go ahead and respond.

Shouldn't let the banker girl wait.

She's a banker lady.

And I'm good.

“Good” like she gets a second date or “good” like it's over?

Can we focus here?

I don't know, can we?

Brody: Okay, of the six active duty SEALs billeted to Shadow Unit, four are deployed overseas.

One has been in wilderness survival training for the past 72 hours.

And the last member?

Petty Officer Wyatt Granier. Recently put into treatment for showing signs of depression and instability.

Lives on the Westbank.

Got a bolo out. Let's find him.

Recording: The cellular customer you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the beep.

(beeps)


Hey, it's me.

Have you heard from Penn?

'Cause I'm supposed to meet him and he's still not here.

I'm freaked.

I'm out of here.

(engine starting)

(silenced g*nshots)

(grunting)

(Kn*fe unsheathing)

NOPD patrol spotted the car a few hours ago.

Engine's still on, who knows how long.

Loretta?

Granier was sh*t from behind.

The same tight grouping of the wounds.

(camera shutter clicking)

The same surgical care with the postmortem removal of the tongue.

(camera shutter clicking)

And again... the k*ller takes the term “hold your tongue” literally.

Guessing when you pull the slugs out of the dash, the b*ll*ts'll match the ones used to k*ll Penn.

It's an elaborate choreography.

It takes time and consideration.

Someone m*rder*d Penn to stop him from writing about Operation Sawback.

Cut out his tongue as a warning.

Granier was part of Sawback.

You think he was cooperating with Penn's story and that's what got him k*lled the same way?

Hey, found this cell nearby.

Could be Granier's, but someone took the SIM card.

NOPD canvassed the area, pulled surveillance video.

No sign of the suspect.

Probably ninja'd his way out of this one, too.

Climbed a wall, jumped the roof.

Maybe's he's got the cloak of invisibility.

We know this much-- he can't levitate.

Shoe scuffs.

(camera shutter clicking)

Must have been riding in the trunk, waiting for the right moment.

Not easy to sneak up on a SEAL.

Suspect had access to the back seat through the trunk.

In and out without a trace.

Actually, guys, this time... he left something behind.

Percy: Got a DNA hit on the hair.

It belongs to Chief Petty Officer Ryan Jansen, another Navy SEAL in Shadow Unit.

Thought he was already accounted for.

Survival training, Pearl River.

That's what the SEALs thought, too.

Turns out Jansen was on solo survival training.

Commander Salter radioed him to return to base, got no response.

He could have slipped away, no one would have even noticed.

Plenty of time to come back here, k*ll Penn and Granier.

Patton: Aw, yeah!

Don't mind me, I had to resupply.

Check it out.

I got my kale, my carrots, my B3, my agave.

I got my bacon chili cheeseburger deluxe.

That's my Triple P cranial laxative.

Any closer to getting Penn's digital files?

Like I told you--

Penn's a guy who's written about the NSA, the FBI, the IRS and all other alphabet agencies that make men tremble.

So you can't get in.

Dude, his encryptions got encryptions.

But once that agave and this saturated fat lubricates the thinkanator-- oh, I'll get there.

I always do.

Excuse you.

Thank you.
Back to Jansen, what do we know?

Highly decorated.

Spent a year at NAB Coronado teaching Kn*fe combat, but he's a five-tool player.

Two Silver Stars for bravery in Afghanistan, married his high school sweetheart, teaches Sunday school.

Sonja: Whoa, what does that mean?

My Sunday school teacher was terrifying.

Look, we need to bring Jansen in before anyone else gets hurt.

I'll reach out to Edgar Baco and Travis Dalton.

They were both sources of Penn's story, could be in danger.

Brody, you're with me.

Let's go learn things about the man behind the SEAL.

Woman: I've known my husband since we were 14 years old.

The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew he would be the best man I'd ever meet.

Now you're telling me he's some kind of criminal?

Do you know where he is, Mrs. Jansen?

I never know where Ryan is.

My husband's job is classified.

Found this in a drawer.

He left it for a reason.

So we couldn't track him.

Checked the call log.

Last one is from Granier.

Wyatt Granier?

They're friends.

You should ask Wyatt about Ryan.

He'll tell you.

Wyatt Granier was m*rder*d.

Listen, we understand you're trying to protect your husband, but something is wrong here.

You see this, yes?

What are you suggesting he did?

We're just looking for the truth.

We get that by finding Ryan.

If you know of anything, please, before Ryan or anyone else gets hurt.

I never know where Ryan is when he's deployed.

He could be gone for weeks, months.

But whenever he goes away, he sends me one of these.

They're all blank.

A simple way to tell me he's okay.

This one came this morning.

Kisatchie National Park.

(bell jingles)

Park ranger said Jansen came in yesterday, got supplies, and headed north.

Well, what's north?

Woods.

Great...

Mother Nature and I aren't exactly on speaking terms.

Oh, don't worry, City Mouse.

I'll be glad to make introductions.

Got ballistics back on the slugs you pulled from Petty Officer Granier's chest.

Nine millimeter, subsonic.

Same rounds that k*lled Penn.

Fired from the same w*apon.

Not surprising.

Anything else?

Come on. Out with it.

(sighs)

Why does the system always win?

You know?

I mean, this-this Skep-Con thing, it's not an act.

I-I really believe that there's a deeper meaning in the world, even if it's menacing, that-that people can have an effect, you know, reveal the truth.

I mean, we-we need skeptics, people willing to dig deeper.

(sighs)

People like Penn.

Like you.

I will look at Petty Officer Granier again, see what else I find.

Meantime, I'll put the photos from San Martel up on the secure server.

Pick up where Penn left off.

Go.

(chimes)

Who's Dave?

Not a banker, I'll tell you that.

Lady's got her secrets, huh?

A few. (chuckles)

More than a few, I've learned.

I went poking.

You didn't go to Auburn.

You went to Tulane.

(chuckles) Yeah, but Tulane wouldn't get me an in with the Navy SEAL commander.

Also wouldn't get a rise out of you, so...

(both chuckle)

So, if you got secrets, how come you givin' me a hard time about who I date?

Look...

I'm just trying to make sure you're taking care of yourself.

That mermaid of yours was special, and...

I know what it's like to lose someone.

She's got a name. Savannah.

And you don't know anything about it.

Stop.

Oh, it's okay for you to poke back, but...

No, I mean stop the truck.

I saw tire tracks back there veering off the road.

(tires screech)

(birds chirping)

License plate matches Jansen's.

(clattering)

Chief Jansen.

Hands where we can see 'em.

Lasalle: We're NCIS.

You're coming with us.

On your knees.

I can't let this happen.

Why?

'Cause you're innocent?

Hardly.

(grunting)

(grunting)

(Sonja grunting)

(grunting)

Got a fugitive loose in Kisatchie National Park.

He's a Navy SEAL wanted in connection with multiple murders. Gonna need every deputy you can spare.

No. No, Christopher, hold tight until the cavalry arrives.

Got park rangers and marshals on the way.

Jansen got a head start.

We wait, he disappears.

You're a good hunter, Chris, but you're not 100% right now, and Jansen's in his element.

We already went a few rounds with him, King.

We know what we're up against, all right?

King, tell me there's a better chance of catching Jansen.

Just be careful.

Of course.

We don't want to mangle up the new girl on her first big manhunt.

Good news is, he didn't try to k*ll us, which I guess is your job.

(chuckles) When you get back, I'll let you sh**t me so we're even.

I'll look forward to it.

(phone beeps off)

m*nled, huh?

State police are sending 30 troopers now.

Won't be enough.

No matter how many men you send.

Mrs. Jansen, you should be at home.

I can't sit around anymore.

Not with strangers at my house.

They're MPs.

Waiting to catch my husband.

Which is a waste of time.

He's not coming back.

Not voluntarily.

Not at all.

Heard those MPs talking at my house, calling my husband a mass m*rder*r.

He won't stand for that.

And I don't blame him.

Mrs. Jansen, that's not what...

You don't understand.

Ryan believes in honor.

To a fault.

He won't be dragged in on these ridiculous accusations.

He'll die first.

Please, don't let my husband get k*lled out there.

Wade: While you were hunting SEALs, I reexamined Petty Officer Granier.

I found these skin cells on his wrist.

I assumed they were his, but analyzed them just to make sure.

They're not Granier's.

Could be the k*ller's.

You get DNA?

There's no match in CODIS, no match to Jansen.

So Jansen didn't k*ll Granier.

Which means he likely... didn't k*ll Penn.

Oh, my gosh, guys, you're never gonna believe this.

(panting): All right. Slowing down.

Breathing. Pausing.

Explaining.

The photos of the m*ssacre are faked.

Faked?

Wade: You're sure?

Positive.

Photography's become a recent interest of mine, and I had a bit of an insight.

So I blew up the photo to see if I could make out any details, and when I did...

Well, here, look-- tell me what you see here.

Image is distorted.

Right, it's called aberration-- it's the failure of the lens to produce a true image.

The way the light hits, everything's just blurry.

Everything except... our Navy SEAL.

Look at this-- you can make out all the details of his insignia, of his w*apon...

He was clearly placed in after the fact.

Brody: Making it seem as if a SEAL was responsible.

Yeah. I bet you anything that Penn realized that this photo was fake... and he got k*lled pursuing whatever it is that really happened in San Martel.

I'm gonna to go help Patton get into Penn's files.

What the hell is Jansen up to?

You know, you're wrong.

About me not getting it.

I've had loss.

Maybe not what happened to you, but... let's just say there was someone special, and...

Shh!

Really? I'm opening up.

Broken branch.

Jansen knows better than to leave a mark like that.

Yeah, he planted it.

And every other sign we've seen.

He's tracking us.

And that's good how?

We're still not dead, and he's still not gone.

Patton: Like I need help.

Patton, you've been trying to get into Penn's cloud for, like, two days.

Dude was deeply paranoid.

I'm talking black-helicopter- multipliled-by-Area 51 paranoid.

He was a kook.

Whoa, hold on, I resemble that remark.

Yeah, you do-- that's why I borrowed your Skep-Kook profile.

Skep-Con, okay?

Wait, you stole my identity?

Appropriated, thank you very much. And it paid off.

Turns out Penn was preparing for the day he might die over a story.

He had a back door into his files.

Secret encryption key to gain entry.

Penn left pieces of the key with various far-flung freaks.

Just got access.

Downloading now.

Sebastian: Same photos, but they haven't been doctored.

(beeping)

Wait, what's happening?

The files are disappearing.

Someone's hacking in.

They piggypacked onto your session.

I'll set up a firewall, try to download what hasn't been deleted yet.

Can you track the att*ck?

I'm tracing it now.

Nobody messes with Patton Plame in his own house.

I'm calling Pride.

Brody: We're heading north like you told us.

We need this hacker's exact address.

Working on it. Getting a bead on the IP's now.

Hurry up, I'm losing the battle here.

Don't stress me out.

Don't stress you out?

I'm the only thing standing between some hacker and all of Penn's files.

We already lost 20%.

Focus, guys.

Patton: I'm trying.

This guy is good.

Yeah, he's tearing down every firewall I put up like it's made out of rice paper.

40% of the files are gone now.

I know, I know!

I'm zooming in on an address.

50% gone.

I need you to head towards Bayou Road.

Address.

Patton: Hold on.

70%.

Would you stop saying percent?

Got it--

2523 Bayou Road.

Yes!

Hands up!

Get away from the computer.

Get your hands up now!

It's all right.

We're on the same side.

Nice to see you again, Agent Pride.

I'm CIA.

Brody: Looked into your background, parts that aren't classified.

Former Army Ranger.

Masters from MIT.

Guess I'm an overachiever.

With a particular set of skills.

Expert climber.

Means you could rappel down a building.

Computer specialist.

Means you can hack.

And the organization Westmar Relief Group.

CIA set it up as a front.

Put you in charge of Operation Sawback.

You were sent down to Bolivia to fight the People's Army.

To look after the locals.

But for some reason, you became part of the problem.

Wasn't even in country when that m*ssacre occurred.

But you covered it up.

Fascinating story.

m*ssacre in San Martel.

Seven men dead.

Tongues cut out.

Real photo.

Fake photo.

The SEAL was put in later.

By you.

We found evidence on your hard drive that you doctored these.

Care to explain?

Well, I'd love to, but... it's compartmented.

In other words, you'd tell us, but then you'd have to k*ll us.

Pride: Just like Jonah Penn...

Petty Officer Granier?

Both m*rder*d because of San Martel.

Tongues cut out because they knew too much.

Message to the world.

Message to us as well.

Make all signs point to Jansen.

And just to be sure... he put a strand of Jansen's hair in Granier's trunk.

Lot of big talk.

No proof.

We have skin cells from the man who k*lled Granier.

Soon as we get your DNA back, we'll make a match and your time will be up.

Speaking of time...

I haven't checked in with my colleagues at CIA since 9:00 a.m.

It'll take 'em a couple of hours to realize I'm in your custody.

Then our lawyers will call yours, remind them of the CIA mandate for secrecy.

Until then...

Brody: Dalton is right.

CIA will whisk him away if we don't get Jansen to talk.

We got to find him first, figure out if he's a witness or an accomplice.

Oh, I got it. I so got it.

So I took a deeper look at those undoctored photos from the m*ssacre.

Which, by the way-- taken with top-notch equipment. I mean, these contrast on these things...

Regardless, I've been studying them up close, and I'm 99% sure I can identify the person responsible for the m*ssacre in Bolivia.

Did you get an angle on the k*ller's face?

No, something better.

I-I got a fingerprint.

From a photograph?

Yeah, first I found this bloody thumbprint on the neck.

Here I just zoomed in and I ran it through AFIS.

Get a hit?

Yeah, it's coming up now.

There it is.

There's the guy responsible.

(phone beeps)

Christopher.

Chief Petty Officer Ryan Jansen!

Come out!

We need to talk!

It's safe for you now!

We know that you didn't k*ll Penn!

Or Granier!

We just don't know why you're running!

(rustling)

How do I know you weren't sent to k*ll me?

If that was the case, you'd be dead by now.

Give it your best sh*t.

su1c1de by cop?

Is that what you want?

Just do what you're gonna do already.

Okay.

How about let's talk.

You, too, Percy.

No way.

Look, I'm your training agent.

He's still got a g*n.

There's nothing in the manual about disarming myself in front of an armed fugitive.

This isn't in the manual.

Like I said, Jansen, we know you didn't k*ll Penn or Granier.

And there's proof exonerating you from the m*ssacre at San Martel.

Doesn't mean I'm not guilty.

Operation Sawback.

Mission was protect the locals, dismantle the PA.

Something happened.

The m*ssacre.

Men who were cooperating with us brutally ex*cuted.

The next day Granier and I are pulled for an extraction op.

Who were you extracting?

Some local-- they said if we left him behind that he'd get k*lled like the rest, so we got him to safety.

Well, mission accomplished.

Yeah. Then last week, Penn calls.

He's got sources in Bolivia.

Found out who we really extracted.

El Hacha.

Leader of the People's Army.

He k*lled those men in San Martel.

Who ordered you to extract?

A guy named Dalton? CIA?

Yeah. Spook.

I don't know the name.

Well, we got the guy.

You come with us, you can identify him.

And then what?

Then I just live the rest of my life knowing that I freed a mass m*rder*r?

Brought him to this county?

How do I deal with that?

Explain that to Emily?

So you want to restore your honor?

You can do that.

Just come in with us and bring El Hacha to justice.

All you have to do is drop your w*apon.

Hey, hey.

Remember me?

(grunts)

Okay.

I got it.

Bad temper you've got there, Baco.

My guess is it's gotten you into trouble in the past.

San Martel, for instance?

The seven men you k*lled?

Right, El Hacha?

(whistling)

Brody: Curious, what's the going rate to bribe a CIA operative these days, huh?

Dalton forced me.

I wanted none of it.

He made me k*ll those men.

It was all him.

That's what Dalton's just told the U.S. Attorney about you.

Gonna be fun watching you two eat each other alive.

That leaves one more thing to do.

What's that?

Better than a postcard.

♪ Jan lays down and wrestles in her sleep ♪

(phone beeps)

You all right?

Hey, Em.

♪ An old friend calls and tells us where to meet ♪
♪ Her plane takes off from Baltimore ♪
♪ And touches down on Bourbon Street ♪
♪ Ooh... ooh... ♪
♪ Ooh... ♪
♪ We sit outside and argue all night long ♪

Smooth motions, remember?

Keep a rhythm.

Appreciate you... wantin' to talk about, you know, the one you lost.

♪ And happy with her full-time job... ♪

Okay.

And as for Sheila, the banker lady, she's a goof.

Makes me laugh.

Well, laughing is good.

It is for me, now.

Well, for the record, you know, you make me laugh.

But just 'cause of your looks.

Ha, ha.

(chuckles)

Spoke to the U.S. attorney.

CIA is wiping their hands clean of Dalton.

He's going away for a long time.

What'd you bring us, King?

Well, shrimp po'boy for you.

Nice.

And me. Veggie deluxe for Sonja.

Thank you.

Hey.

That bar looks nice.

Yeah, a little elbow grease.

Seriously?

♪ If I die before I learn to speak ♪
♪ Can money pay for all the days I lived awake ♪
♪ But half asleep? ♪

Hey.

That Penn's article?

Yeah, I was able to get it online.

We've already got thousands of hits.

Even in death, man has a voice.

Oh. About your photos.

Uh, I'm still workin' on 'em, but, uh, I'll get there.

Well, after what you did for Penn, I have no doubt.

Thanks, Sebastian.

Yeah.

♪ ♪

(door opens)

(sighs)

(door closes)

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Louisiana anymore.
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