12x05 - CSI Down

[bunniefuu]

BRODY: I'm not saying I don't like Vegas. I'm just saying L.A. clearly owns it in a number of key categories. Vegas has no heart, no history...

SANDERS: No history?

RUSSELL: No taxes ought to quiet your complaint.

BRODY: No ocean.

SANDERS: All right, Morgan, I'll give you the ocean. And the weather, and the Lakers. And the ability to walk down the street without being handed full-frontal business cards.

Okay, but if you think L.A. beats Vegas at night, you need professional help.

Oh! You offering your services?

RUSSELL: Hey, guys, please, we're here for a crime scene.

(helicopter rotors whirring)

What is that?

CSI Russell?

Rescue helicopter?

Yes, sir.

We just drove 70 miles.

We were promised m*rder.

And you had it, till 30 minutes ago.

What, the vic came back to life?

He didn't have a pulse when I found him on my patrol.

Called it in-- all of a sudden, he groans.

Document everything before we lose him.

GSW in the shoulder.

Right, let's get him loaded.

Looks like a b*llet graze wound on the forehead.

Two g*nsh*t wounds, no blood pool?

This can't be the primary.

Get a sh*t of his wrist.

Those are abrasions.

That guy was bound.

(phone rings)

Yeah. And b*rned.

Looks like two stun g*n marks on his neck.

EMT: Spike 80-50 push.

No wallet?

Nothing.

Yeah!

Hey, it's Nick.

I just landed a double in Northtown.

Is there anybody around who can give me a hand?

Catherine and Sara are in court.

It's your lucky day.

Our Mount Stirling D.B. just Frankensteined on me.

So I'll send someone your way.

Okay, that'd be good. Thanks.

Hey, Greg, why don't you hop on the chopper?

Process our vic at the hospital, then head over to Northtown.

Nick has a double he's having trouble with.

Oh, you want me to leave this gorgeous crime scenery?

I'll do it.

All right, you go.

We'll stay.

A chopper ride and a double homicide?

I'm up for some excitement.

♪ CSI 12x05 ♪

CSI Down Original Air Date on October 19, 2011

♪ Who... are you? ♪
♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪
♪ Who... are you? ♪
♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪
♪ I really wanna know ♪
♪ Who... are you? ♪
♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪
♪ Are you! ♪

(phone ringing)

Miss me already?

Head 50 yards from your 3:00.

I think I just found the rest of your scene.

I won't tell Russell I gave you the tip.

You can look smart and owe me one.

All right, thanks.

Hey, sweetheart, it might get a little bumpy.

No sign of forced entry.

Mailman spotted them through the iron barred windows.

Mailman delivers door-to-door in this neighborhood?

Takes some serious mail-sack.

Yeah.

So was the TV or stereo on when the officers responded?

The whole system was blaring.

I know both of these guys.

Wes Aykin, Tony Malos.

I busted them for some juvie stuff a while back, but now their ink tells me they've turned pro.

Yeah, "Mad-10"?

Madison and Tenth.

That's the g*ng/syndicate that runs this hood.

Diversified portfolio-- dr*gs, extortion, prostitution, Internet p*rn.

STOKES: Mm-hmm, and quite the racket with the fake credit cards.

The k*ller sure did leave behind a lot of plastic.

You know, it doesn't seem like this was about business.

Maybe it was personal.

Metal shavings.

Coming from the back door.

Yep. Here's our point of entry.

Plasma cutter.

Slashed right through the metal.

Inert gas and an electrical arc create an ultra-hot plasma that chews right through the metal.

Hey, here it is right here.

"Stolen from Ronston Welding."

I'll give 'em a call.

Casa de Brass could use some discounted pipe work.

(steady electronic tone)

What can I do?

Just stand back.

I've got epi running.

He's gone back into V-fib.

I'm going to shock again.

Clear.

Actually, lift the lids.

No pupil reaction.

One more time.

Clear.

(steady beeping)

There we go.

Welcome back, buddy.

You're on your way to the hospital.

(mutters): Samantha...

Samantha.

Hey, boys.

Didn't hear you come in.

What's going on?

We already flipped 'em and sticked 'em.

Both d*ed around midnight.

I notice some burn marks on the neck consistent with a stun g*n.

Those are some pretty nasty neck wounds.

ROBBINS: They were both garroted.

I found that wire under this victim.

Hmm.

Okay.

This att*ck was clearly planned.

The k*ller used a plasma cutter to gain entry.

He must have known it was a good time to strike.

Yo, where's the beer?

What the...?!

(stun g*n crackling)

Why are you doing this to us?!

ROBBINS: There are easier ways to end two men.

The k*ller was either getting off, or trying to get something out of them.

RUSSELL: You sure about this, Greg?

Sure as I can be.

RUSSELL: Oh, there you go.

Good hunch, buddy.

Way to call it.

Eh, just trusting my instincts.

(camera shutter clicking)

Looks like we've got two nine mill casings over here.

So one sh*t goes into our victim's shoulder, and... Oh, yes.

One sh*t grazes his head.

(g*nshots)

Definitely our primary.

SANDERS: Maybe more than that.

Second blood pool.

Two more casings.

We got a second g*nsh*t victim?

I don't know.

Not much blood.

And it looks like the ground took the brunt of these sh*ts.

No blood or tissue on these b*ll*ts.

Maybe they didn't hit anybody.

Okay, so maybe both of our blood pools come from our guy on the chopper, right?

Let's keep looking.

Ah, found his jacket.

And I think I found his ride.

Tire impressions.

Wide axle.

Pickup or SUV?

So they drive our victim up here, they sh**t him and then they leave him for dead.

His hands and knees were caked with dirt.

He tried to crawl to the road.

Yeah, here we go.

Got a bloody print.

I'll send a photo to Mandy for an I.D.

BRASS: Save your powder.

We have a suspect.

Yeah? Who is it?

Ronston the welder told me that an assistant of his ran off with a bunch of equipment last night, and didn't show up for work today.

His name is Frank Cafferty and he has a record.

Got out six months ago after doing a ten-year stint for manslaughter.

RUSSELL: Ah, thatagirl, Mandy.

Look, she sent us a match for our print.

So our guy in the chopper is a Frank Cafferty.

That's a little weird.

(phone ringing)

Stokes.

Yeah, Nick, you just entered a print for a Frank Cafferty into the system.

Yeah, he's my suspect over here.

Double homicide.

Yeah, he's our victim.

You mean the exact same guy that's...

Yeah, up in the air with Morgan.

Hell, you're a fighter.

PILOT: This is Medevac 103.

(phone ringing)

Estimated time of arrival at Desert Palm 0945.

Tracing Route 160 toward Wilson Ridge.

Still in the air, boss.

Really?

The Northtown double?

Copy that.

I'll make sure he's in custody when we land.

(phone beeps off)

He's convulsing!

Protect him!

Get the I.V.--

Hey! Get back!

Hey!

I see you touch that radio, or punch in codes, bitch is dead, you hear me?

Yeah.

Unstrap me.

I said unstrap me or the cop eats it!

I'm not a cop...

Now!

Listen up!

I want your cans off and your cell phones!

Throw 'em back!

Now! Hurry up!

Come on!

Now!

You! Due south. Fly low.

I see a town, a cop, or a highway, it's the last thing you see.

You got it?

Yeah.

Where are we going?

Mexico.

I'm not sure how much "we" there's gonna be about it.

(panting)

RUSSELL: So Morgan's still not at your scene?

STOKES: No, it's been over an hour.

She should've gotten there by now.

All right, well, I'll check with Medevac Dispatch.

Do you still need a hand?

STOKES: Nah, I'm good.

Catherine and Sarah finished in court and they're checking out Frank Cafferty's address.

All right, good.

Thank you.

No service on Morgan's cell.

WOMAN: Dispatch.

Uh, yeah, this is D.B. Russell with Crime Lab.

Do you have an ETA on a Medevac Three, heading for Mount Stirling to Desert Palm Hospital?

Negative. We've been unable to reestablish radio contact with Medevac Three.

All right, well, check with Air Traffic Control, will you, please?

Yes, sir.

Maybe they're taking the scenic route.

ROBBINS: Looks like a match.

Stun g*n burns on Frank Cafferty's neck and the necks of these dead Mad-10s are three of a kind.

Well, Sara and I just got back from Cafferty's apartment.

The door had been kicked in, there were signs of a struggle...

So Cafferty zapped and k*lled these fine gentlemen in Northtown, retired for the evening...

Somebody else-- probably from their crew-- went after Frank, busted into his place, used a stun g*n on him, then dragged him out and up to the mountains.

Any idea what started the feud?

Well, Frank'll be at the hospital soon.

I'm sure he's got all kinds of answers.

Who's Samantha?

You might've been dreaming.

You kind of muttered it while you were under.

I wasn't dreaming.

Is she someone special?

What'd you do?

Nothing.

You moved!

You're trying to do something.

I didn't move.

You're on medication.

Your vision's compromised.

Oh, yeah? You want to test my vision, Doc?

Frank, come on, it's not worth it.

Please...

Put him down.

What?

Drug him! I don't want him moving!

I said drug him.

You got five seconds: five... four...

Midazolam-- two cc's, front pouch, clear bottle.

Hurry! Do it!

Quit eyeballing me.

Turn around!

Hurry up!

(grunts)

That's right.

Now, sit back... enjoy the ride.

Okay, thanks, Jim.

So Brass dug in to Cafferty's file.

There were no g*ng connections.

The guy spent the past ten years in prison for a bar fight gone bad.

There was no g*ng beef while he was in lockup, and prior to prison, he was in the service-- chopper pilot.

You know, I've been going through the stuff from his apartment-- you know, he doesn't strike me as a gangbanger.

WILLOWS: So what was he doing in that house, torturing and k*lling two Mad-10s?

Did Brass say anything about a daughter?

Actually, yes.

His Army file claimed that he was divorced with one dependent.

Hm.

Daughter's name is Samantha.

She sent him a letter in prison, four years ago.

"I've got a better man in my life now.

"He looks out for me like you never have.

You asked me for a recent photo-- here you go."

Well, she grew up.

Ouch.

I've seen him before.

That's one of the Mad-10s that Frank Cafferty k*lled.

Now we know why.

So the daughter is the connection.

(phone rings)

Hi, Russell.

And that's all we know?

Hey... we need to talk.

Uh-oh. Which one was it this time?

Morgan.

Well, that didn't take long.

How'd she screw up?

Well, she didn't, actually.

Let me talk to you a second.

She hitched a ride on a medevac helicopter that was supposed to land an hour ago.

No sign of it yet.

Was there a distress call?

No. No radio, no transponder signal, no appearance on radar.

Now, look-- this is my team, my responsibility.

Yeah-- my daughter.

I know. I know.

Then again, you're a better supervisor than I ever was a father.

Air Traffic Control better have some answers.

SANDERS: When he took off from Mount Stirling, the pilot reported his flight plan to Dispatch.

PILOT: Estimated time of arrival...

SANDERS: Because of the patient's head wound, he wanted to avoid altitude, so he was going to trace Route 160, and cut across Wilson Ridge toward the city.

Now, McCarran radar can't pick up aircraft blocked by the mountains, but at the last radio update to Dispatch, at 9:27 a.m., the copter was here.

Now, it should've emerged from behind the mountains, and onto McCarran radar six or seven minutes later.

It never emerged.

Archie pinged the cells of Morgan, the pilot and paramedic-- all three were emanating from a one-acre area here.

Sheriff's deputies recovered the phones, but no sign of any wreckage.

Cafferty-- he made 'em toss the phones.

That chopper's h*jacked.

Okay...

All right, we keep working the case.

I want to find out everything we can about Frank Cafferty, in case we make contact with him.

I was supposed to be the CSI on that flight.

We don't have time for that right now.

Let's just stay focused, and make sure we bring our girl home, okay?

Why don't you check out Sara, see what she's got.

So I think I know why Cafferty was at that Northtown house-- he was looking for his daughter.

Samantha used to go out with Wes Aykin, one of the dead Mad-10s.

So, Cafferty figures that Wes and the rest of the g*ng might know where she was, right?

Well, it was more than a hunch.

He had seen some awful proof.

I'd found a Web address jotted among Frank's possessions.

A URL-- it's a file-sharing site.

Specifically, one file.

p*rn video.

She looks drugged.

Yeah.

So Cafferty sees this, and wants to rescue his daughter.

Tries to strangle her whereabouts out of Wes and Tony.

Right?

Mm-hmm.

So, do we know where she is?

No. She renewed her license a month ago, but the address she used is a weekly, and she's no longer there.

Tire treads Greg photo'd at the mountain scene.

They're high-end run-flats-- standard on a number of luxury SUV's-- Lexus, BMW, Porsche...

Cafferty had a digital camera.

There were some amateur surveillance photos on it.

He was tracking the Mad-10s.

Probably since he got out of prison.

Their properties, cars, including... a Porsche Cayenne.

So that could be the vehicle that took Cafferty up into the mountains.

WILLOWS: Partial plate--

I'll run it through DMV.

I had all the techs and interns put out a photo file on the copter-- e-mail, Twitter-- saying that: If you see this, let us know.

Good idea.

She's a really good CSI.

Nick, you got anything?

Twentynine Palms Marine Corps Base, 100 miles south of Mount Stirling, reported a non-transponding radio-silent craft in their airspace 15 minutes ago.

Guy in the tower said it looked like Medevac Three.

By the time we got the message, it was off radar.

RUSSELL: So they're heading due south.

What, Mexico?

CHP's on the lookout, but they haven't seen it.

You know, Cafferty may have the pilot zigging and zagging around up there.

Yeah, well, even they're straight-lining it, they're going to have to refuel before they get to the border.

Every airstrip between here and there's got a heads up, so...

I got that DNA on the two blood pools you and Greg found at the mountain scene.

The big pool was Cafferty.

The small pool was a second contributor-- a female.

Cafferty's daughter?

No, a 19-year-old named Tiffany Bamford.

She's got priors for as*ault; and ties to the Mad-10s.

And I checked hospitals-- she's at Desert Palm.

They didn't want me to come in here but... my head just kept hurting worse.

Who didn't want you to come here, Tiffany?

Who did this to you?

Hmm?

Was it the Mad-10s?

They said they weren't really going to do anything to me.

Supposed to be fake.

Just mess with this guy.

Get some cred.

They took me out there.

Want your daughter, Frank?

Here she is.

No...

Look what you've made us do to her!

No!

Samantha!

No!

Samantha!

Samantha!

I'm gonna k*ll you!

You hear me?

No! No!

Samantha!

Tell me their names.

I'll protect you, I promise.

Can I help you with something?

Thought this was my grandmother's room.

Yeah, well, it's not.

My mistake.

Yeah, it is your mistake. b*at it.

Now, Tiffany, we can post an officer right outside of your room...

Get out.

Get out!

So these guys wanted Frank to think they k*lled Samantha.

The fact that they had to fake it says... what?

She was already dead but they couldn't produce a body?

Or she's still alive, they couldn't get their hands on her.

And what if we did?

What if we find her, and let Frank know she's still alive.

That might just bring him back down.

Yeah, but how are we gonna find her?

No address, no phone number.

And in the meantime, Frank Cafferty thinks he watched his own daughter's m*rder.

I can't help but think what that might mean for my daughter.

She's dead.

My daughter, Samantha.

You asked.

What happened?

When she was little, I was, um...

I was a bad person, you know?

I went away.

She ended up getting mixed in with the wrong crowd.

When I got out...

I tried to save her.

You wanted a second chance.

Yeah.

Ended up getting her k*lled.

How?

A month ago, I sat down with my dad for the first time in a dozen years.

He left when you were little, too?

When I was about 14 and he'd messed up so much that my mom decided she wanted to leave for California... he didn't fight for me to stay.

If he'd only just fought for me.

That would've been enough?

You finally forgave him?

I finally decided it was worth a sh*t.

So we're starting over.

Whatever mistakes he made... we can get past them.

People change.

He's a better man now.

He had a second chance.

(grunting and groaning)

(g*nsh*t)

(screams)

Look what you made me do!

(groans)

Look what you made me do!

Don't you move.

You hear me? Don't you move.

Okay.

Excuse me, Undersheriff?

This young woman needs to talk to you.

Not the time, Shelley.

I saw on the news about my dad.

The, uh, helicopter.

Samantha.

I want to help.

Your father's been up in the air with hostages for over two hours.

Do you have any idea which way he's going?

I don't know.

I-I barely know him.

Letters, when he was in prison, a handful of weekends before that, but we have never been close.

You don't understand.

He was trying to save you.

Samantha, your Dad knew that you were caught up with the Mad-10s.

He was trying to rescue you.

(sighs)

I didn't need his help.

I checked outta that life a year ago.

I'm sober.

I'm just trying to live quiet.

So, you know what, all of this is just...

No, you know what? My daughter is on that helicopter.

Along with an innocent pilot and a paramedic who both have families.

I know.

That's what they said on the news.

That's why I'm here.

Not to help him.

I just don't want to see him hurt anyone else.

So how do I talk to him?

(radio static crackles)

OFFICER: Frank Cafferty, Samantha is alive and wants to talk to you.

Do you copy?

Frank Cafferty, Samantha is alive and wants to talk to you.

He's either not hearing it, or he's not buying it.

No, no, he's probably cruising at a lower altitude.

You know, he'll hear it when he rises above the crest.

I appreciate the rationalization, I really do.

When it comes to Morgan, I've become something of a master at it.

She'14, she doesn't understand what her mom and I are arguing about.

16-year-olds are all moody, they... she doesn't mean it.

She'll call.

She's busy at school.

She's busy at work.

She'll call. She'll call.

She'll call.

And then she's here.

Chip the size of the Stratosphere on her shoulder, still vowing eternal vengeance against me, but, uh...

Hey, you know what? This could be a second chance for you guys.

Maybe.

It just cannot end like this.

Hey, Catherine?

That Porsche Cayenne from Cafferty's surveillance photos.

DMV had only three matches to the partial plate, but one of them was in the Mad-10'' neighborhood.

It's registered to an Alexander Zadian.

Brass says he's a sh*t caller for the Mad-10s.

Priors for as*ault, extortion, possession with intent, and he's on the street right now.

And the best suspect for the attempted m*rder of Frank Cafferty.

Uniforms are out looking for Zadian.

I will let you know if their luck changes.

Thank you.

PILOT: Well, it's s your call, Ace.

We're ten minutes out from Parham Airstrip.

We touch down and refuel, or this party's not going much longer.

(groans)

Shut him up!

Go to hell.

We got to get him to a hospital.

Please, Frank.

I'll stay with you. Just let us land and get him some help.

I can't.

Please!

I can't do that!

(groans)

Shut him up!

(groans)

OFFICER: Frank Cafferty, Samantha is alive and wants to talk to you.

Do you copy?

Frank Cafferty, Samantha is alive and wants to talk to you.

Do you copy?

(static crackles)

This is Frank Cafferty.

(whispers): Come on.

Frank?

This is D.B.

Russell, L.V.P.D.

There's someone here who would like to talk to you.

Go ahead.

(radio beeps)

Dad?

Samantha?

Oh, my God baby!

Sammy, I thought you were dead.

The police told me.

That wasn't me, Dad.

I'm... I'm fine.

They also told me you were trying to rescue me.

I tried, Samantha.

I tried as hard as I could.

You remember when I was little, that, uh, wishing well you told me was mine?

Course I do, baby.

Go there.

I've sent someone to help you get away.

I love you, Dad.

Frank?

Get her out of here!

I don't want her talking to anyone!

Frank?

(radio whirrs)

Go north.

Hey, come on, man.

We're not gonna make it to the next airstrip.

I got no problem flying solo.

Don't you want to see her?

Now!

Maybe next life, you keep a better grip on your p*stol.

While Greg and I work on figuring out what the "wishing well" might be, I want the two of you to work on who Samantha might have sent out to meet Frank, okay?

Now, she didn't have a cell phone on her, so...

She might've stashed that in her car at P.D.

We check her recents, see if we can find the getaway driver she contacted, maybe we can intercept or follow.

Good.

Yeah, let's do it.

Why not let Frank get away?

Wouldn't it be safer for Morgan and the others if we just let him land?

Let him run.

I don't think so.

Why the hell not?

Because I'm not so sure that Samantha's trying to help him get away.

That girl hates her father for leaving her.

Now, what's more likely, that she wants to help him or hurt him?

That's why.

You gonna be okay?

Yeah.

Good.

STOKES: Samantha Cafferty arrived at P.D. at around 11:16 a.m.

Let's see what she was driving.

Black Cayenne.

Zoom in.

That's Zadian.

She's in with the Mad-10s.

She set her dad up.

You set them up!

You're gonna get them k*lled! Bitch!

Sanders?

Frank really thinks I tried to help him?

Where did you send them?

If they hurt her, I swear to you...

Mad-10s are my family.

Frank k*lled two of us.

He has to pay for that.

Where did you send them?

It's done.

RUSSELL: Web search didn't find any "wishing well" in Nevada.

Cafferty's not picking up on the radio, so we have no idea if he got any of our warnings.

We're gonna have to find this place, so we can get there before Zadian does.

Well, Frank and Samantha didn't spend much time together.

So if this wishing well is a shared memory, it might be in one of these boxes.

It's worth a try.

♪ ♪

I've got it.

All right, it's a park someplace, right?

Yeah, I'm not sure where.

Wait a second.

Look-Look at the clothing.

I've seen that before.

There's other sh*ts they were wearing that same outfit.

I've seen it.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Here we go.

What is that?

Winston's Wild West Village.

That was an old theme park that shut down years ago.

(alarm beeping)

Hey, we're on fumes, man!

What are you looking for?

Shut up!

There it is. Right there.

Take her down now.

Wait.

Who is that?

Cops?!

BRODY: Not cops.

Get us out of here.

What?

Now!

(alarm wailing)

That's all she's got!

(shallow breathing)

♪ ♪

(sirens wailing)

BRASS: This is Brass.

I want the CSIs to keep their distance.

I got lead.

You got that, Sanders?

Copy.

Follow me.

They're coming.

We got to hide.

Dude, you've got the g*n.

Come on.

(groaning)

Come on, let's go.

This way, come on.

All right, all right.

I got you.

Let's go.

Come on.

I got you.

(coughing)

These guys friends of yours?

Probably the same guys who left me for dead last night.

Bet you wish they'd finished me off, huh?

Bet you wish you were in Cabo right now.

(chuckles)

How do they know we're here?

Samantha.

(coughs)

They're in here.

Cover the back.

(tires screeching)

♪ ♪

Come on, we got to go.

I can't.

We got to go!

I can't!

I said, "I can't."

I'm sorry.

I have nothing left.

Save yourself, okay?

(floorboards creak)

(sirens wailing outside)

Everything clear outside?

Yeah.

He's over here.

(garbled radio transmissions)

Morgan, are you hurt?

(sirens wailing)

Morgan.

(panting)

Are you hurt?

You still owe me one.

Morgan.

What can I...

I'm fine, Dad.

I just want to get out of here.

Yeah, okay.

Can we go?

Sure.

You're going to be okay.

I'm fine.

(sobbing)

You're going to be okay.

(sobbing)

You're going to be okay.