(horn blows)
(reel clicking)
(reel spinning rapidly)
Woman: Hey! I got something!
Reel it in.
Man: Man, feels like a 200-pound marlin.
What did we catch?
Whatever it is, it's big.
(screams)
♪ NCIS:New Orleans 3x12 ♪
Hell on the High Water
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪
Good morning, fellow NCIS agents.
Uh-huh.
Lasalle: Good morning.
(kicks desk)
(chair rattling)
(opens drawers)
Geez.
What are you doing?
Not my first rodeo.
Day one on the job, newbie always gets hazed.
Broken chair, rats in the desk Laxatives in the creamer.
What kind of sociopaths did you work with at FBI?
Girl, after everything that went down with the cartel, we got paperwork for days.
Nobody got time for hazing.
Congrats getting through FLETC, though.
Uh-huh.
(sighs)
Gregorio!
(cannons popping)
(laughter)
Sonja: Yeah.
You should have seen your face.
Yeah, we got you so good.
NCIS Special Agent Gregorio, we'd like to officially welcome you to our team, to the city, with a special slice of New Orleans pecan pie.
I appreciate it.
And for future reference, I hate surprises.
So you hate fun.
Surprises aren't fun.
And I'm not much of an agent if I can't sniff out a surprise.
Well, we got one more for you.
We know how badly you've wanted to wear one of these, so we got you...
Please, don't say...
...a hat.
...a hat.
Official NCIS team hat.
Sonja: Whoo-hoo.
Do I have to?
Yes.
Put it on right now.
Let me see. Yeah.
Lasalle: Oh, that's nice.
Pride: Oh, look at the happiness pouring out of the hat.
(laughter)
(phone beeps)
I think I made a mistake.
Time for work.
The body of Lieutenant Jay Nielsen was just fished out of the Gulf.
Landing on Loretta's table as we speak.
Sonja, you're with me at the morgue.
Lasalle and Gregorio, dig into Lieutenant Nielsen's recent whereabouts.
Find out how he ended up in the drink.
Oh, you, a little agent.
All right, so I'll contact his commanding officer, next of kin.
You take his financials and phone records.
What?
Do I have something in my teeth?
What are you looking at?
No.
I'm ranking agent when Pride's not around, so I kind of call the sh*ts.
Oh, stop.
Are you for real?
I know you were a big deal in the FBI, but you're the newbie here, so gotta follow team rules.
Ah. So, uh, I jump on the paper trail?
Yeah, and I'll make the phone calls.
Okay.
That hat looks good, by the way.
What have we got here, Loretta?
Something out of a Salvador Dali painting, it would seem.
Wow! sh**t.
Um, guessing a fish didn't do that?
Most definitely not.
Lieutenant Nielsen d*ed of thermal shock.
His heart, lungs, bones literally melted by some intense, concentrated heat.
Ugh. Well, uh...
Nielsen was stationed in the Philippines for six months, got back two days ago.
This is a rough homecoming.
Mm, very rough, and judging by the bruising on his face and defensive wounds on his hands, our lieutenant was in the fight of his life.
Presumably with the person who b*rned in his chest?
(phone chimes)
Hey, uh, Tammy and Lasalle got Nielsen's last-known whereabouts.
Orleans Marina.
They're headed there now.
Have 'em pick you up on their way.
Go. Learn things.
Any idea what caused the damage?
No.
And the chances of finding out aren't favorable.
With Sebastian getting his NCIS shield, I get a revolving door of temps.
Ah.
Drop it like it's hot.
I tested the flesh sample you sent in, Doc Wade.
Dude was torched.
The dude has a name--
Lieutenant Nielsen.
Right, Lieutenant Nielsen.
Oh, man, that is gnarly.
Wade: Agent Pride, meet our lab technician, Claire Belcher.
She's just graduated from New Orleans Technical College.
This is her first job.
I have never seen anything like that before.
Glad to meet you, Ms. Belcher.
You were saying Lieutenant Nielsen was torched.
Any idea by what?
I mean... wow.
Like, he got melted.
Yes. And we were wondering what did it.
I think, you know...
(gagging)
(gagging loudly)
I miss Sebastian.
I see why.
Mm-hmm.
Uh, I'll reach out to FLETC, get Sebastian the autopsy report.
See if he can help us narrow in on the m*rder w*apon.
When you talk to him, have him call me.
He's got me worried.
Push-ups and obstacle courses aren't really his forte.
I will, but I'm sure he's doing just fine, Loretta.
Come on, Lund, move, move, move!
Let's go!
I just... You know “fight or flight”?
Well, there's a third stress response-- it's called “freeze”"
And it's what I happen to be experiencing right now.
Shut up and ring the bell!
I just... I don't see the practical application of this exercise, sir.
I mean, in what real-world scenario would I ever have to scale a rope, you know?
Like, if I'm on a pirate ship?
Wait, what-what are you doing?
There's no room at the inn!
Two's a crowd, you know what I mean?
Oh, God.
What are you doing?
What... Uh.
(grunts)
Wait...
Wait, wait, wait.
Put that back.
Ring the bell!
(grunting)
(bell clanging)
(scattered cheers and applause)
Okay. Okay, I did it.
I did it, now put the pad back, please.
(grunting)
I did it.
You would have broken your ankle if you hadn't.
Fear only gets you so far, Lund.
You want to make agent, you better find another way to motivate your butt up that rope.
(sighs)
Lasalle: Lieutenant Nielsen's wife said he came home early from tour to take her on an anniversary cruise on their boat.
Lives in Shreveport, drove down yesterday to prep.
Next thing she knows, CACO's at her door.
She's left with a broken heart while her husband was literally melted away.
Ladies first.
Oh, no.
You're senior ranking agent.
By all means.
Well, that's true.
But I'm also a gentleman, so after you.
Oh, no, I...
Look, ladies, you're both pretty-- let's go.
Lasalle: No bird poop, no salt deposits.
No barnacle buildup.
Considering this boat's been sitting here for six months, it's in dang good shape.
Sonja: Too good. Check it.
You see these black spots under this fresh coat of paint?
Mm-hmm.
It's protein smoke damage.
Used to see it in arson cases with A*F.
When the body catches fire, the fats and oils turn into smoke and coat everything.
So this soot could be leftover residue from our lieutenant's burning chest?
And it looks like whoever torched him tried to paint over the evidence and clean up the boat.
Think we might have just found our crime scene.
I got something y'all need to see.
Mrs. Nielsen said the lieutenant was the only one who had access to the boat, but I think she was wrong.
Look at this.
According to the hour meter, there's five trips, 12 hours each, over the last six months while the lieutenant was stationed overseas.
Someone else was using the boat.
The same someone who k*lled him?
The lieutenant stumbles on the suspect, who proceeds to blowtorch him, dump him in the Gulf.
Now, that's cold-blooded.
Well, whatever the perp was using the boat for, he thought it was worth k*lling over.
I'm pulling up the GPS trip history, replaying the last one.
What was the boat doing out at an oil rig?
I don't know.
But seeing as our boat thief was willing to m*rder to cover his tracks, it can't be good.
Lasalle: Apolis oil rig 5.
200 miles off the coast.
Pumps 2,500 barrels of crude a day.
What has it got to do with the m*rder of a Navy lieutenant?
Well, no idea, but Lieutenant Nielsen's k*ller took his stolen boat out to that rig five times while he was stationed overseas.
Long distance fuel bladders, super charged engine.
It's the perfect vessel for the journey.
Not so perfect once Nielsen surprised the suspect, got lit up for his trouble and dumped in the Gulf.
A torch-wielding k*ller, a stolen boat and an offshore oil rig.
(phone rings)
What's the connection?
Hey. Uh, sorry it took me a little bit to call you back.
I've been... otherwise engaged.
I bet. Training going okay?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah.
Couldn't be better.
Uh, you know.
Making life-long friends.
Achieving personal bests.
The usual.
You find time to look at the autopsy report we sent?
Yeah, yeah. I did, and I-I think I know what k*lled Lieutenant Nielsen.
Everything okay, Sebastian?
Oh, sure. Yeah. All good.
So why are you so whispery?
I just... I'm not technically allowed to be on my phone right now, but, um... it's... it's totally cool. So listen.
I, uh, based on the chemical residue on the victim's body, I think that your m*rder w*apon was a deep-sea, oxy-fueled welding torch.
Now, you need certification from the American Welders Union to own and... and operate one.
Pride: We check their database, might be able to compile a list of suspects.
Good work, Sebastian.
Okay. Thanks. I got to go.
Gregorio: Sure it's going okay, Sebastian?
No. What? Oh, yeah, yeah.
No. It's great.
Uh, everything's awesome.
To be honest, I'm having a great time, and it couldn't be better, so...
Damn it, Lund!
I said no cell phones!
Oh. Okay, all right.
He seems friendly.
No. That's Special Agent Perkins.
I saw him make a former Marine cry on my first day at FLETC.
Luckily, I only had to do the weekend course, and I barely made it through that one.
So, Sebastian's toast.
Well, what he lacks in strength, he makes up for in spirit.
I'll bet you anything he makes it through.
Pride: Save the bets for later.
Chris, Gregorio, get to Apolis HQ. See if they got any idea what that boat was doing out by their rig.
I got an old friend at the Welders Union, should be able to get us access to their database.
♪ ♪
Can't help you.
Haven't heard one word about a boat near rig 5.
It crossed your safety perimeter multiple times.
Don't you have security in place to monitor vessels from doing that?
You interested in how I run my company or whether I saw this boat?
It's all right, Mom.
I'll explain.
When the indexes fell and the oil market bottomed out, we were forced to make some hard fiscal decisions.
We had to cut security, plain and simple.
$100,000 for an MBA and he's speaking gibberish.
You got 24 men out there in international waters and no one looking out for them?
We're not BP. we're a family business.
And with prices falling at the pumps, we either had to start cutting shifts or cut security personnel.
Woman: Damn it.
These perimeter breaches, they correspond with leaks to our pipeline.
Leaks?
Six months back, puncture-leaks start popping up around rig 5.
Had to shut down oil production till we welded them up.
Lieutenant Nielsen was k*lled by a deep-sea welding torch.
Maybe it was intended for something else.
Like making holes in the pipeline.
Any idea who would want to do something like this?
Just about every one of our competitors.
Yes, except our engineers determined those leaks to be normal wear and tear to our pipeline.
Don't be so naive, Elliot.
We're all hurting here.
Every time we shut down a rig, oil prices spike across the seaboard.
Corporate sabotage.
I feel like I'm back in D.C.
This may not be Washington, but oil's a cutthroat business.
What do you need to get to the bottom of this?
Help us I.D. the k*ller on that boat.
Anybody saw something, it'd be one of those men out on that rig.
Then we'll need to get on that rig.
Well, I got a helo taking a shift out in an hour.
(exhales)
One seat left if you want it.
I'll take it.
I'll take it.
Rock-paper-scissors?
(quietly): All right.
Ah, it's a waste of time.
We're not getting on that seat anyway.
Well, who is?
(helicopter blades whirring, indistinct radio transmission)
♪ ♪
First time out, huh?
You know where I can find the rig manager?
Keep up. I'll show you.
(inhales)
Oh, yeah. Smell that?
Petrol, B.O. and the sweet ocean breeze.
Embrace it.
No place like it on Earth.
How long you been roughnecking?
Two years.
This is my last hitch, though.
Time for the next part of my journey, a new frontier.
Here. Check this out.
“Your Heart's Desire Charters”.
I've trekked the Andes, navigated transatlantic cargo ships, got my degree, and now... my pilot's license.
Plus the sweetest little twin engine Cessna you've ever laid eyes on.
Very impressive.
Mm.
Can I give you a piece of unsolicited advice?
While you're here, set your eyes on the work, not the view. Rig's a dangerous place.
And it's remote. By the time the medevac gets here, it's always too late.
I'll keep that in mind.
There's your man.
And remember, eyes on the rig.
You must be Agent Pride.
I'm Hauser.
Glad to have you aboard.
Thank you.
Corporate told me to give you access to whatever you need, so, you say jump, I'll say how high.
I appreciate it.
I need to speak to your crew.
See if any of them remember a boat that's been out here.
Most recently, a couple nights back?
Oh, we get a lot of boats out here.
You... You want to be more specific?
The 45 foot Super Sport.
Someone was using it illegally.
Oh. She's a beauty.
I'm guessin' there's more to the story than just some joyridin' to bring NCIS out here.
Navy lieutenant was m*rder*d on it.
Okay. Well, let's, uh... let's talk to the floor hands first.
♪ ♪
Of course Pride spent summers working on his uncle's oil rig.
What hasn't the guy done?
Certifiable Renaissance man.
That's why he's the boss.
But this is why I'm the man.
Found you a suspect in the lieutenant's m*rder.
Sonja: Pride's connection paid off.
We got us access to the Welders Union database.
We've been combing through it, cross-referencing with Lieutenant Nielsen's personal life.
Darren Meade. Card-carrying member of the union, Lieutenant Nielsen's brother-in-law.
Would have known Nielsen was on tour, and known his boat was available.
And according to union records, he refilled an oxygenized torch-t*nk the morning of Nielsen's m*rder.
Where's Darren Meade now?
Patton: Well, that's the kicker.
Darren works the rigs for a living.
He just cycled into a ten-day shift.
Guess where.
Gregorio: Apolis oil rig 5.
Pride's on the rig with the k*ller, and doesn't know it?
200 miles off the coast. He ain't got cell reception either.
I'll call the rig's sat line.
We got to warn him.
Pride: You sure you didn't see a Super Sport?
No, sir.
Can't say I seen it.
When did you say it was here?
Around 11:00 p.m.
Couple nights back.
Manager said you were working the swing shift.
From this vantage point, you would've had a clear view.
Yeah.
I would've.
But I didn't see nothing.
Nasty bruise you got on your neck. What happened?
(chuckles) Ran into a water pipe below deck.
Pipe happened to be hand shaped?
Got all kinds of pipes on Apolis.
According to personnel records, you're the only welder on this rig authorized to use that torch.
I guess that's true.
What's it to you?
Well, your boss says you've been working repairs the last two weeks.
Assuming that if I check the shift logs two nights back, I'd find you.
Why would you do that?
'Cause you've been lying to me.
(panting)
(alarm blaring)
Hauser: This is just a drill.
All crew members report to the mess hall.
I repeat, all crew to the mess hall for a safety check.
Darren: You stashing away the crew till we figure out how to play this?
There's only one way to play this.
Take care of this guy before he gets to one of those lifeboats, or gets word off this rig.
It should be easier now that I got his g*n.
Yeah. It'd be easier if you'd played it cool instead of going all pyro.
We can't even find him.
No choice. He was onto us.
So what?
We're killin' a cop now?
(alarm continues blaring)
Hauser: I get no pleasure from it, but we do what we have to to take care of our own. Right?
Bodies are starting to stack up.
Hey, we got into this to make some money, provide for our families.
I'm not about to go to prison for it. Are you?
Put a b*llet in him, toss him over.
(alarm continues blaring)
The downwellings out here will take his body right to the ocean floor.
Nobody will ever see it again.
Just be another rig accident.
Guy panicked during a safety drill, fell overboard.
What makes you think they'll buy that?
'Cause I got two witnesses to back up my story.
(groaning softly)
(alarm continues blaring)
I take it no luck?
Apolis HQ lost all communications to the rig.
They're scrambling to figure out what's going on.
You do any better with the Coast Guard?
Redirecting their nearest cutter-- it'll be three, four hours before the boat reaches that rig.
So we got no way of warning Pride he's out there with a k*ller.
K*llers, plural.
Dumped Darren's phone records from the night of the m*rder.
He was in touch with two Apolis employees--
Jackson Hauser and Lyle Peterson.
Yeah, I checked their texts-- it appears that two of them was on the lieutenant's boat the night he got torched.
So Pride's not with one k*ller, he's with three?
And a trained one at that.
Hauser's ex-infantry, fought in Afghanistan.
These guys put holes in that pipeline.
There's a good chance they'll want to take Pride out before he blows the whistle.
And we don't have time to wait for the Coast Guard cutter to get there.
Let's call them back, see if they'll chopper us out.
All right.
Patton, Sonja, keep trying to reestablish connection with the rig.
Call Sebastian if you have to.
Do whatever it takes.
On it.
Gregorio, you're with me.
Not a bad Pride impression, Lasalle.
I still prefer the real thing, though.
Trust me, so do I.
Let's go get him.
Oh, just another day in paradise.
Hey, if you're looking for the mess hall, my man, this ain't it.
I'm a federal agent.
There are men on this rig who are trying to k*ll me.
I need to get a line out.
The whole system's offline.
Sensors, radio, satcom, all of it.
Is there any other way to get a message off this thing?
There's a distress beacon in the rig cellar-- you can send an SOS using Morse code.
(g*nshots)
(screams)
(grunts)
That dude did not just sh**t at us!
You okay?
Yeah, I'm okay.
(banging)
All right, we got to get out of here. Come on.
Before they bust in...
This is not what I meant when I said I wanted to go out with a bang on my last tour.
(banging continues)
(Bonnie coughing)
(continues coughing)
Hey.
Here you go, drink that.
Slow.
(continues coughing)
(Bonnie panting)
You want to tell me why those grease monkeys want you dead?
They k*lled a Navy sailor, and I'm not gonna let them get away with it.
If you're gonna take out those fools, I'm with you.
Pride: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
What are you gonna do with that?
Where I grew up, if someone takes a swing at you, you swing back.
Okay, all right, that's an honorable code, but... a wrench won't do any good against a SIG Sauer with 11 rounds left in the magazine.
Well, what do you propose, then?
You take me to those signal beacons.
I'll get word to my team, get backup.
We'll take these guys down.
Hey, I'm not looking to get deputized here.
And I'm not much for “we,” okay?
So you do you and I'll do me.
Maybe find another one of those flare g*ns.
Bonnie. Bonnie, right?
Yeah.
Okay, listen, I need you to do what I tell you to do.
There are 20 innocent people up in that commissary.
We get into a sh**t out, someone hits a fuel t*nk, their deaths are gonna be on us.
We got to do our part, and running into a hail of b*ll*ts isn't it.
So are you gonna show me where those beacons are, or do I have to find them myself?
You better have one hell of a cavalry.
Three of the best agents in the country.
Three?
As in three people?
For now. Couple weeks I'll have a fourth-- he's got to get through training.
Oh, God.
Come on, let's go.
All right.
(phone buzzing)
Sebastian!
Oh. Sorry, guys.
(buzzing stops)
(phone buzzing)
(groans)
Sebastian: Ow, ow, cut it out, cut it out, ow, ow.
I said no more cell phones, Lund.
You got yourself k*lled, and your team, too!
I can explain.
No, you can't, because you are dead.
Dead men do not talk.
Yeah, but the point is my team keeps calling me, and I-I can't...
I don't care if the president of the United States is calling you.
I catch you on that phone again, you're done.
Got it?!
Put it away!
Get in there and start over.
Go!
Which way?
Aw, man.
What?
The hits keep comin'.
Too much drill fluid's being pumped in.
It's overstressing the well.
How bad are we talking?
Like “Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” bad.
We got to get out of here right now.
Whoa, whoa, Bonnie, no, no, we... we still have to get to the signal beacons, warn my team, warn everybody.
Okay, fine, but we got to hurry up.
These gauges are telling me this rig's gonna blow.
This way.
This rig is basically one giant Wi-Fi receiver.
There's no good reason why I can't connect.
Hate to admit it, but I can use an assist from Sebastian.
Well, I've called him, like, ten times.
I even left word with the training officer.
Still nothing.
(beeping)
(Sonja sighs)
What the... what is that?
(beeping continues)
It's coming from the rig.
Someone's broadcasting Morse code off that rig.
I think we know who.
Pride for the win.
Hand me a pen.
Where'd you learn that, A*F?
No. Girl Scouts.
Really?
Senior level.
Well, let's hear it, troop leader.
Rig is going to... blow.
Stay... away.
God, I hope my Morse code is rusty.
One way to check.
NASA open source, EO-1 thermal satellite.
Okay, I just aimed it at the rig.
Oh, no, your Morse code ain't rusty.
That red storm cloud is all hydrocarbon gas.
Meaning...?
Meaning if we don't act fast, we're looking Deepwater Horizon all over again.
How long do we have?
(exhales softly)
Not long.
Pride's out there on that ticking time b*mb of a rig with three K*llers, and you turn the car around?
Give me the keys-- I'm getting on that chopper.
You're not going anywhere.
Fine, I'll take my own damn car.
You're not the boss, Lasalle.
No, I'm not. Pride is.
And whether he's right here or 200 miles off the coast, we do what he says.
(loud whistle)
I don't...
Now, we all want Pride back at his desk... but we cannot do that by arguing.
Patton: Gregorio, Lasalle is right.
With the amount of HC gas around this rig, by the time you get there, it'll be too late.
Well, I'm not just gonna sit around and watch it blow.
Sonja: Pride is counting on us to find a way to save him and the people on that rig.
So let's get to work.
All right.
Where do we start?
(computer beeping)
Patton: I got it.
Follow me. I'll show you.
Kept my system scanning for radio signals to and from the rig.
Someone is remotely signaling the rig's fluid pumps, filling the well with mud, messing up the hole pressure.
Explains why it's about to blow.
Well, our three K*llers are on the rig-- you saying they have an accomplice?
Someone willing to sacrifice their lives to cover their tracks.
Can we k*ll the signal?
Got to find out where it's coming from.
Any idea on the accomplice?
Well, it could be ecoterrorists.
They've targeted the Gulf rigs before.
No, the three suspects are lifelong roughnecks-- not exactly tree huggers.
Hey, maybe one of Apolis's competitors.
Maybe, but I got a feeling this hits closer to home.
There's only two ways that rig's remotely operated-- either by a hacker, or someone who has access to the control center at Apolis.
Wait.
Why would Apolis want to blow up their own rig?
Same reason their competitors would.
Patton, can you pull Apolis's revenue streams over the last six months on the go?
We're going to Apolis HQ.
Do you even have to ask?
(computer beeping)
Your move, Gregorio.
All right.
Close down 15.
And the mud-gas separator.
No, it's not working.
Someone must be remotely overriding the pumps.
We can't stop them.
Got to keep trying.
If we stick around here, we're dead. Come on!
We got to get everyone off this rig.
Right behind you.
Okay. Lifeboats are through here.
You prep the boats--
I'll bring the crew to you.
Okay.
(g*n and nail g*ns f*ring)
(Bonnie cries out)
(grunts)
Come on.
Johnny, you got to move this crane.
Benny's got a tug coming in.
Hey, you can't just come onto my property anytime you want.
Got a warrant that says we can.
Your whole facility is under our control.
We checked your revenue streams.
When you shut down rig 5, your competitors benefited, but guess whose earnings went up the most?
You paid your own men to put holes in your own pipeline, choke out the oil, raise the prices of gas.
And got an innocent sailor k*lled in the process.
I don't have to listen to a word of this.
I'm calling my lawyers.
Oh, no, you're not. Someone in your office is controlling the pressure systems of the rig.
And we're finding out who.
You don't have a shred of evidence.
We got three roughnecks on that rig that are ready to bury you.
Which is why you're trying to blow it up.
Gregorio: If you want to avoid a lifetime in prison, you need to tell us how to stop this from happening.
All I've ever done is try to grow my business, look out for my people.
I'd give up everything to save those men out there.
I'm not responsible for this catastrophe.
Okay. If not you, then who, a technician?
They'd have to know the passcodes to override the system.
Only one person...
God help me.
My son.
He's our CTO, designed the system himself.
He's the only one.
Where is he now?
Didn't feel well.
Said he had the flu, went home.
More like the airport.
I'll put a BOLO out.
I gave him everything.
You have to help me stop this.
Good news and bad-- Patton reestablished comms with the rig and shut off the mud being pumped into the well.
And the bad?
This thing is past the point of no return, and whoever was messing with it disabled the blowout preventer, too.
Evacuation countdown's already begun.
We got 15 minutes before it goes up.
Any way to save it?
Yeah. A miracle.
Or a mechanical genius with an IQ of 160.
Have Patton send me the rig blueprints and get me patched in out there.
I'm gonna be on a computer in two shakes.
Damn it, Lund!
You just can't help yourself, can you?
It's an emergency!
I don't care!
You want a badge, you belong to me.
No emergencies, no exceptions.
And no way you're going to those computers. You got it?
No, I don't get it. Because if it's a choice between my team or my badge, then I'm gonna choose my team every time.
And right now, they need me.
Hauser: You got no more moves,
Agent Pride!
Come on out!
We'll conversate.
It's a deal. Soon as you drop your weapons and surrender.
I'm not the one who has to surrender.
And I've got you cornered.
No way out.
He's right. We're screwed.
Why are you looking at me like that?
You're not claustrophobic, are you?
What?
This is a really bad idea.
I don't even know where the ventilation system leads to.
Out of here. That's for sure.
Listen, you follow this vent until you find another one.
Get to the mess hall and get the crew to the lifeboats.
(phone rings)
We're back online.
Hello?
It's for you.
Pride.
Pride, it's Sebastian.
No time for small talk, but I think I got a way to stop the blowout on the rig.
Sebastian, you're a lifesaver.
Now, you're gonna need help, so grab some-some big, burly drill dudes and get to the cellar deck.
I'm tracking your movements.
I'll call you when you get there.
You got 11 minutes.
Remember that agent-in-training, the fourth one?
He may have a way to stop this thing from blowing.
Great. What do we do?
You got 11 minutes to get up that vent and get the crew off the rig.
You're not coming on the boats?
Look, this thing blows up, oil coats the Gulf again, it'll be a death blow to the coast.
Okay.
I'm not letting that happen.
What is that?
(welder crackling)
Torch.
Yeah.
They're cutting their way in. Go now.
You can't do this alone.
I'm not gonna.
Look, we all got to do our part, Bonnie.
You got to get this crew to safety. Now go.
You're a strange dude, Pride.
(welder continues crackling)
Hauser, listen up!
Turn off the blowtorch!
(grunts)
I'm comin' out.
And you're gonna listen to every word I have to say.
And why exactly will we do that?
'Cause this rig's gonna blow in the next ten minutes, and I'm the only one who knows how to stop it.
Well, you got our attention.
Better talk quick.
This is a bunch of crap. He's bluffing so Bonnie can get away.
You got bigger problems to worry about than her.
This rig's goin' up in a fireball if we don't do something about it.
If this place were gonna blow, we'd be hearing sirens.
Refresh your computer.
Warning system should come back online.
(keyboard clacking)
Whoever you were working with to sabotage the pipeline set you up.
Looking to clean up their mess.
You three included.
(alarm blaring)
He's right.
Bottom hole pressure's off the charts, and the preventer's offline.
Can you override it?
Not from here.
We got, like, nine minutes!
We got to get to the lifeboats.
No, Bonnie and the crew took 'em.
You got no other option but to help me.
Just a couple holes in the pipeline, huh?
Do it for my family.
Isn't that what you said, Hauser?
Uh-uh, this is his fault.
Keep waving that w*apon in my face, I'll feed it to you.
You said you know how to stop it?
Get me to the cellar deck.
I'll show you.
(alarm continues blaring)
Talk to me, Sebastian.
Okay, all you guys need to do is activate the blowout preventer...
...to seal the pipe and prevent an underwater blowout.
That's easy, right?
(hissing)
Now, two lucky contestants are gonna climb down to the blowout preventer.
Pride, it's a long way down.
You better hurry.
Got you.
Let's go, Hauser.
You guys up on the top, you have to wait until they surface before you close the hatch, turn the valves, and seal the well. If you don't, you're gonna k*ll them.
All right, Pride, I see you down there.
Look for two control panels.
One blue and one yellow.
Now, this part is super important. You have to turn the activation keys at the same time.
It's taking too long.
We can't wait!
That clock hits five, I'm doin' it.
One, two, three.
Then book it up the ladder before the clock strikes zero.
I'm doin' it. Close the hatch.
Yeah. I'm with you!
They're almost up!
Don't! Just-just wait!
They're coming.
They're right there.
Get out of there, guys.
You got ten seconds.
Eight seconds.
Six seconds.
All right, close the hatch!
Close the hatch!
Pride: We're closed! Hit it!
We're clear.
(sighing heavily)
(exhales)
So... what now?
I have to arrest you for the m*rder of Lieutenant Nielsen.
And how do you plan to do that?
Hands up, jackass.
That's how.
Probably should've held on to that g*n.
You're back, huh?
Everybody's got to do their part.
Mine wasn't over.
Well, I owe you one.
Give me five minutes with these morons, we'll call it even.
♪ ♪
(sighs)
Lund.
I'm gonna tell you something.
No, you know what, I'm gonna tell you something.
Yeah, I disobeyed a direct order.
But guess what, I don't give a damn.
If becoming an agent means abandoning my team when they need me the most, well, then you can take that badge and you can sh...
Lund!
You did good.
Come again?
Remember what I told you when I chased you up the rope?
That I needed to find a way to motivate my butt up it?
You were willing to sacrifice your badge for your team.
You found it.
Training works good, doesn't it?
(chuckles)
Now get back to the gym. You owe me 50 laps for breaking the rules.
Sir, yes, sir.
Move it!
Elliot: It was just a couple holes in the pipeline.
Which turned into the m*rder of a Navy officer and the attempted m*rder of 24 of your rig workers.
No one was supposed to get hurt.
Well, that's what they all say.
I was trying to keep the company afloat.
And nearly destroyed the entire Gulf in the process.
Imagine what that would've done to your mama.
I've disappointed her every day of my life.
And all I ever wanted was her respect.
Thought if I saved her precious company, I-I'd finally get it.
Gregorio: Well, I'll promise you one thing, you'll have plenty of time to work through those mommy issues with the prison counselor at Angola.
(door opening)
Gregorio: I'll call DHS, have them pick him up for processing.
Gregorio.
You did good in there.
Thanks.
You weren't so bad yourself.
Roy, will... you give us a minute?
Hey, look, Lasalle, I know we've been butting heads but today was like...
A huge success.
It was.
I mean, after all, we took down the bad guys, and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters, right?
Right, but still, we were at each other's throats.
It's growing pains, ancient history.
History tends to repeat itself.
As far as I'm concerned, we were arguing 'cause we both cared, and that's a good thing.
All right, I'm down with that.
Still, it happened.
So, you think we can spare Pride the gory details, or what?
It's just another day at the office down here.
Bottom line, is he doesn't need to know anything about today.
(laughs)
Hello? Anybody home?
Sonja: Hey!
Patton: Hey, man!
Lasalle: There he is!
Hey, good to see you in one piece.
You are in one piece?
Oh, yeah, it's just a flesh wound.
Could've been a lot worse if it hadn't been for you all.
You did a good job without me.
Oh, yeah.
This was seamless.
It was like a well-oiled but extremely loud machine.
Pride: Do I want to know what that means?
It means we're glad to have you back, calling the sh*ts.
Yeah.
Okay. In that case, I say we forget the paperwork, go get a drink.
Oh!
Yes. Now you're talkin' my language.
First round's on me.
I'm afraid I can't let you do that.
It's my gentlemanly responsibility.
Literally makes me nauseous when you talk like that.
They been like this the whole time?
You have no idea.
You have no idea.