(plane engine roaring, thunder crashing)
Ease up on that stick, Varela.
Ain't exactly like we're going through a hurricane.
Sorry.
How long before we land?
Mm, 20 minutes, give or take.
(over intercom): This is your captain speaking.
We'll be landing in 20 minutes.
Hey, Emily.
Look, I know I'm the last person you want to speak...
Man: Hey!
(laughter)
Dammit, guys, knock it off!
Hang on, baby, let me go somewhere more private.
Man: Aw!
Come on, Saad, we're just playing around.
(grunting)
Get to your seats!
Never seen turbulence like this before. (alarms sounding)
Come on.
Come on!
Woman: Oh, my God! We're going down!
(grunting)
Man: Watch out!
(frogs cheeping quietly)
(engines roaring)
♪ NCIS:New Orleans 3x05 ♪
Course Correction
Original Air Date on October 25, 2016
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪
(trumpet playing)
Lasalle: Which field test accurately determines the difference between animal blood and human blood?
That would be the Precipitin Reaction Test, sir.
Wow.
What's the minimum distance from a crime scene you should conduct a canvass of the area?
Four city blocks, or a quarter mile in an open environment.
And the first step when interviewing a witness?
Extend a heartfelt and grateful thank you on behalf of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service before taking their statement.
Wow.
You know, that's really not bad, Lieutenant.
You know, you've clearly done your homework.
Really want to join your team.
Okay, well, we'll be in touch.
Yeah.
I appreciate the opportunity.
You got it.
Thanks.
You read my mind.
Too tight and too eager.
And too... male.
Sexist.
(chuckling): Oh.
Little balance around here wouldn't hurt.
You know, I really miss my girl time.
(Gregorio clears throat)
Who was that?
Lasalle: Interviewing replacements for Brody.
Unless you're planning on staying around.
Ha, over my dead body.
Good morning to you too.
Oh, that's not what I meant, it's just...
I've been in NOLA longer than I expected.
Starting to succumb to its charms, I admit.
It's just, it's time for me to go home, you know?
Well, that's why Pride wants us interviewing.
Got to find a new agent before y'all I.D. the cartel embeds and head back.
Well, it should happen soon.
We're making progress.
Still, DOJ's gonna want to make sure you're covered before we go.
Well, it's got to be the right fit.
'Cause we're a tight-knit group.
Look, the FBI cleared you of being in bed with the cartel.
But with such a vulnerable port and miles of Gulf access points, I hear DOJ's gonna want your team to expand.
Maybe even relocate you to the Federal Building downtown.
♪ ♪
I'm sorry, guys.
(phones chime)
Whoa.
Pride: Plane went off the radar at 0430.
No Mayday from the pilots.
Plane broke into three primary sections, although fire destroyed most of what's left.
Lasalle: Well, another 20 minutes and it would've made Belle Chasse.
Gregorio: Question is, why didn't it?
Any survivors?
No.
According to the flight manifest, Everglades Air Flight 19 listed two pilots, one loadmaster and three petty officers.
All six have been recovered and are en route to Miss Loretta as we speak.
Mr. Jenkins.
Terry Jenkins.
The rep from the charter company that owns the plane.
They're my team.
Jenkins: Sorry to have to meet under these circumstances.
Navy charter your plane?
No, ma'am.
Flight 19 was ferrying drilling equipment from Sao Paulo.
Pride: Petty officers were just catching a ride home from our Brazilian detachment there.
Any specifics on the exact cargo yet?
Loadmaster didn't submit any paperwork, but they usually don't until arrival.
We'll have to contact the Brazilian loading team to get a full inventory.
Well, you want help expediting that?
I'd love any help we can get.
Appreciate if you could also get my team the plane's maintenance records, pilot certifications, anything you've got on Flight 19.
Yep.
Follow us.
Yeah.
Pride: Sorry sight.
Gonna be a lot of grieving families.
Gonna be a jurisdictional nightmare too, with all these alphabets running around.
Not with three deceased sailors, it's not.
This is our case.
Then I wonder what my boss is doing here.
Pride: Director Isler.
Agent Pride and Agent Gregorio.
Good, I was just about to call you.
Why, you think this might be connected to the Natal?
Can't rule it out.
Colombian born pilot, flight originated from the cartel's backyard.
Still, premature to jump to that conclusion.
Not according to Intel chatter.
Coded activity's been off the charts the last couple of days, and this could be why.
Gregorio: Or not.
I mean, like Agent Pride says, we don't know enough yet.
Who's side are you on, Gregorio?
(Pride chuckles)
Not about sides here, Director Isler.
What's important here is looking for what brought down that plane.
Agreed, but if Ciudad Natal brought it down, FBI takes jurisdiction.
Understood.
I'm assuming, in the meantime, that Agent Gregorio's still working with NCIS.
She's been a big help.
Yeah, she's yours until we root out Natal.
And after that, we're out of your hair for good.
Bet you can't wait, huh?
Well, not if DOJ forces more agents on me after you leave, but that's a tomorrow fight.
Not with me, it's not, I'm just following orders.
Keep me posted.
So, what's the next step?
Hardest part of the job.
♪ ♪
Pride: I know that you're all here looking for answers.
About what happened to your loved ones.
But it's still too early to know.
We've only just begun our investigation.
Can you tell us if anyone survived?
I'm sorry to say no, there weren't any survivors.
(people sobbing)
Coroner's in the process of identifying the remains and, as soon as we can, we'll release them back to family.
I want you to know my team and I are gonna work 'round the clock to determine what caused the crash.
NCIS will be running...
Excuse me, you with the investigation?
Yes, I'm Agent Gregorio, FBI.
Yeah, well, I got to get to work, so... is someone gonna contact me about my father's remains, or do I need to do something?
I'm sorry, who's your father?
Amir Saad.
I think he was a petty officer, or something.
I'm his daughter, Emily.
He was one of the passengers.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Emily, but don't worry, you won't have to do anything.
I'm sure the Navy, I think they're called CACO, they'll contact you.
Great, thanks.
Pride: ...after suffering this tragedy.
We have grief counselors standing by, and the Navy is here to assist in any way that they can.
Lastly, I want to say this: I want to encourage all of you to avoid talking to, or watching the media.
I promise you, whatever we find out, we will tell you first.
Chaplain?
Thank you, Agent Pride.
My name is Chaplain Ridley.
Nicely done.
Thanks.
Chaplain: ...one can experience is grief.
Who was the young woman?
Petty Officer Saad's daughter.
Emily, not exactly grief-stricken.
People grieve in different ways.
Yeah, well, disdain's not usually one of them.
Think that chip on her shoulder's been there a while, didn't develop overnight.
Picked up on that pretty quickly.
Chaplain: ...together.
Hope is never lost.
Even when it feels as far...
I'm an FBI profiler, remember?
Sonja: How much say does Pride have with this thing?
I mean, DOJ can't just stuff a ton of agents down our throats, can they?
Not without a fight, they can't, and, if I know Pride, he'll give 'em all they can handle.
Still, first Brody leaves, now this.
Why can't they just let us find someone like Gregorio and leave us alone?
You're not telling me she's actually growing on you, is she?
Um, I said someone like her, but she doesn't want to stick around anyway.
Well, nobody's messing with our team, all right?
I won't let that happen.
My hero.
Tell us you have good news, Loretta, because we ain't got a clue why this plane went down.
Yeah, and half the alphabet in DC is breathing down our necks, wanting answers.
Would a b*llet to the pilot's head help?
Lasalle: The pilot wasn't k*lled by the crash, but by a g*nsh*t wound to the head?
Not only the pilot, but the co-pilot was sh*t too.
Except Mr. Varela was sh*t in the chest.
Neither wound was initially apparent to the M.E.'s on scene because the bodies had been so badly b*rned.
Best I can tell, they were sh*t at close range.
So, two dead pilots at the stick, I guess we can rule out mechanical failure.
What about these other passengers?
Loadmaster and sailors d*ed from severe head trauma, broken spines and just all manner of other catastrophic injuries.
But no g*nsh*t wounds.
Wade: No.
The sh*ts were apparently limited to the cockpit.
m*rder-su1c1de?
It's likely, but the results are still very preliminary.
Well, any way to figure out which one pulled the trigger?
That's early to tell, but all things being equal, it is easier to sh**t yourself in the head than the chest.
So our pilot, Rodriguez, sh**t his copilot so no one can save the plane, and then takes himself out?
I mean, that's a heck of a dramatic way to go out.
Yeah and if that's what happened, he took a lot of innocent lives with him, including three sailors.
Cartel?
Maybe.
But the question is: why?
I was married to Juan for five years.
(crying)
Thank you.
(sniffles)
Did you and Juan first meet in Colombia?
No, uh, we met in Rio.
I was visiting from here.
I saw him at a bar, he was so handsome.
I bought him a drink.
How much do you know about Juan's life before you two met?
Before?
I don't know... n-not much, I guess, why?
Please understand, Mrs. Rodriguez...
Maria.
Maria...
We're trying to find out what caused your husband's plane to go down.
We have to look at everything.
But... what does when we first met have to do with anything?
Do you know who Juan flew for before he started working for Everglades Air?
We can't find much history on him, other than he freelanced.
If you want to ask me something, why don't you just come out and say it?
Gregorio: Okay.
Mrs. Rodriguez, do you know whether or not your husband ever flew for, or had any connection to the Ciudad Natal cartel?
(scoffs)
What?
Maria: You said you wanted to help, and now you're accusing my husband?
(crying)
Well, that didn't go well, I take it.
She's understandably upset, but we had to ask.
Does she know anything?
Don't think so, which means she didn't know her husband was working for the cartel...
Or he wasn't.
Recovery team locate the m*rder w*apon yet?
Shallow waters, near the cockpit.
Couldn't salvage any prints.
And it's a ghost g*n.
No serial numbers, no way of tracing it.
Doesn't exactly let Rodriguez off the hook.
I mean, pilot could sneak a g*n on board easily, especially in Brazil and especially on charters.
Still, if he's not Natal and he has no other obvious motives, why would he do it?
(phone chirps)
Sebastian got the black boxes, maybe he's got something.
Hoping the cockpit voice recorder gave you something that can help, Sebastian.
Uh, yeah, well, as you might expect, the black boxes were pretty badly b*rned, which makes me wonder why they don't make a outer shell with a higher thermal conductivity than titanium.
You know, like a....
These tangents of his common?
It's a lovable quirk.
Oh.
Oh, thanks, Percy.
Black boxes, Sebastian...
Right, yeah, uh... they're useless.
I mean, it would take months of digital wizardry to recover anything.
Well, why'd you text?
No, it wasn't about the black boxes, it was about your sh**t.
The pilot, Rodriguez?
Oh, uh, I don't think that it was the pilot.
Because when I ran forensics on all the victims, the only g*nsh*t residue that I did find was on Petty Officer Saad's right forearm.
Our navy guy?
Yeah, I'm still trying to reconstruct exactly what went down, but P.O. Saad definitely pulled the trigger.
So much for the cartel.
Yeah, and your fast pass out of here.
Hold on, why would our petty officer, hitching a ride home, bring down a plane?
Saad was recently demoted from chief for anger issues, altercations with his C.O.
Could be that he was hoping to hit the navy base.
Just... crashed a little early.
So, what, he was trying to get revenge against the navy?
Just for being busted down a couple ranks?
That doesn't make sense.
Does Saad have any family members we can talk to, help us with motives?
A daughter, his only living relative.
Gregorio said she's got a chip on her shoulder, too.
Wonder if it's connected.
(piano playing)
My father tried calling, left some voice mails, but I wasn't really interested.
We didn't really talk much.
Well, seems like he was trying to reach out to you, though.
Probably to make sure I was watering the lawn, taking care of the house.
Look, he abandoned me and my mom a long time ago, and then didn't even bother to show up at her funeral.
I wasn't really interested in “reaching out.”
Still, you're his child, his only family in New Orleans.
He was coming back for a reason.
Like I said, I wouldn't know, and I don't care.
(piano playing continues)
And you don't care that he might be responsible for what happened either?
Only that I'll probably have to change my name now so I don't have to spend the rest of my life running away from what he did.
Oh, yeah, well let me tell you something.
Changing your name won't change jack.
And while we're at it, this whole little “I don't give a crap” facade isn't going to do you or us any good, so let's just get real here.
We're trying to figure out why six people d*ed.
Now, maybe you don't care, but other people do.
Okay?
Okay.
(sniffs)
Is there anything you can help us with, Emily?
Anything at all about your dad?
His voice mails, maybe?
You had to listen to some of 'em.
He kept saying he was trying to get transferred back to New Orleans, but that none were approved.
He kept promising that he wouldn't give up, that he'd find a way.
Back to you.
Yeah.
Pride: Man wants to make amends with his daughter, doesn't make sense he'd take down the very plane that brings him to her.
Still, Sebastian found g*n residue on Saad.
He's got anger issues, got demoted.
Maybe he wanted to get demoted.
So they'd have to bring him back for a navy review.
Emily said he was desperate to find a way home, that's a sure way.
So, what is that famous instinct of yours saying?
That we're still looking for what brought that plane down, and it wasn't Petty Officer Saad.
Good job opening up his daughter back there.
Wouldn't have found out about the transfer, or Saad's possible innocence if you hadn't.
Yeah, well, guess I can relate to Emily a little more than I care to admit.
Don't ask.
Wasn't gonna.
Lasalle: What do you mean you were wrong about Petty Officer Saad?
It's a plane crash, okay?
There're a lot of moving pieces to untangle and you guys keep pressuring me for definitive answers.
Yeah, because everybody's pressuring us for answers, including the media.
Look, they're chomping at the bit.
I.e., what do you got?
Yeah.
All right, well, I analyzed the b*llet fragmentation along with the, uh, wounds sustained by both the co-pilot and the pilot, plotted b*llet trajectories, and that's when I discovered that there's no way Saad could've sh*t the pilot.
(sighs)
Are you playing with dolls again, Sebastian?
All right, first of all, they're not dolls, they're collectibles. Okay?
And I didn't have time to do a computer reenactment.
Okay, guys, wait.
Are you saying Petty Officer Saad didn't sh**t the pilot?
Then who did?
Well, based on the angle of the entry wound, co-pilot Varela had to be the one that sh*t him.
Well, then, who sh*t Varela?
That was Petty Officer Saad.
(Sonja sighs, groans)
All right, all right, check it out.
So, co-pilot sh**t pilot, right? Bang.
But Saad hears the g*nsh*t...
then the plane starts its death dive.
Saad somehow makes his way into the cockpit, wrestles the g*n away from Varela, then sh**t him in the chest.
Well, do you have any g*nsh*t residue on the co-pilot to back that up?
Yeah, I did a, uh, closer examination using X-Ray spectroscopy to test my theory, and that's when I found trace amounts of GSR on the co-pilot.
Which means what?
Petty Officer Saad is a hero?
At least, he tried to be.
It's not easy to pull a transport plane from a dive with two dead pilots at the stick.
Well, it looks like we need to do a deeper dive on our co-pilot, Varela.
(computer trilling)
What is that?
It's satellite imagery of the crash site.
I'm trying to get an overview.
You see this, uh-- look at this shadow here.
It keeps moving back and forth over the crash zone.
Weird, right?
Yeah, what do you think that is?
Pride: A high-altitude drone, are you sure?
Any idea who it belongs to?
All right, well, just, keep at it, Sebastian.
Have Christopher and Sonja head on back.
(phone beeps)
What's a drone doing hovering over our crash site?
Only one thing: looking for something.
Yeah, but looking for what?
And who's looking?
All I know is this case keeps taking more curious turns all the time. And while we're chasing our tails, I just can't shake the feeling there's something more going on than meets the eye.
Yeah. Well, at least we cleared Petty Officer Saad, (phone beeps) that's something.
Especially for Emily.
Maybe not.
News just broke.
Media's blaming Saad for the crash, calling him “a homegrown t*rror1st”.
That's not true, he's innocent!
Who told the media that?
That's a good question.
NTSB isn't confirming, but multiple sources have reported that Navy Petty Officer Amir Saad sh*t the pilots and crashed the Everglades Air charter...
Morning.
Morning.
That's a bunch of bull.
We gotta find out who those sources are.
Sebastian double-check his findings yet?
He triple-checked.
Says he's 100% sure that co-pilot Varela is the one that brought down the plane.
So we still don't know who's trying to pin it on Petty Officer Saad.
Gotta be someone with access to the media, drones.
Yeah, well, we better find out who they are, and fast, 'cause if we don't clear him, Emily's gonna have to live with that.
We're not gonna let that happen, okay?
We're not gonna let anybody pin this on her father.
First things first-- What'd you find out about our co-pilot, Varela?
Possible cartel connection.
At least with his wife.
Isabel Varela just got out of surgery at Clínica De la Paz, Medellín.
Surgery for what?
Liver transplant Monday.
And then her co-pilots a su1c1de run three days later?
It might have something to do with the fact that his wife mysteriously leapfrogged the donor list.
Suddenly got bumped to the top.
The Natal could absolutely make that happen.
So Varela ends his life to save his wife's? Why?
Nobody on the plane merited a cartel k*lling.
Do we know what kind of cargo was on board yet?
Well, apparently a manifest was filed before takeoff, but it suddenly disappeared.
And the cargo that was found at the crash site was all but incinerated.
Still, the drone's looking for something out there.
We find out what, maybe we'll find out who.
Drone's being controlled by someone.
Patton's still out of town, right?
Yeah.
Do you think maybe the FBI could, uh... hack their signal?
U.S. court ruled we can.
So let's.
Gotta give 'em credit.
Whoever's operating this thing, pretty sophisticated firewall.
But I can hack into it.
No wonder.
No wonder what?
It's not just a drone, it's a swarm of micro-drones.
I thought they were still in the research stages.
You saying they belong to us?
Could be NSA, CIA, FSB, the Chinese-- who knows?
Half our toys are stolen before they're even fully operational now.
Still, this is pretty high-level.
They're dropped from high-altitude jets, parachute open, then coordinate together.
They're so small, though, they usually escape detection.
Can you tell us who's controlling them?
Too many levels of encryption.
Whoever they are, they don't want anybody to know what they're looking for, and they don't want to be found out.
So what, that's it? Dead end?
Unless you want to know where the drones are transmitting their signals to.
That I can do.
(keyboard clattering)
Lasalle (over radio): Pretty modest neighborhood to be receiving encrypted drone signals.
Is your guy sure?
Traced it right to that van.
Pride: We don't know who's inside the van or what to expect, so be careful.
Sonja (over radio): Copy that.
Pride: Let's go.
NCIS!
Gregorio: Getting signals, but nobody's home?
Still hot.
Someone was.
Pride.
Pride: CIA.
CIA? What the hell?
Is it their drones?
Any idea what they're looking for?
Gregorio: Yeah. Emily.
(muffled shrieks)
Don't scream. Nod if you understand.
NCIS!
Don't move.
Wait, the Everglades Air guy?
Last I heard, it's illegal for CIA to operate on domestic soil, Mr. Jenkins.
You need to let her go, and then put your hands in the air, now.
Come on.
Look, do yourself a favor.
Just let me go.
You don't want to get involved with this.
I'm already involved.
So are six grieving families.
I'm Director Isler.
National Security Branch, FBI.
And you are in violation of Executive Order 12333.
Which makes it a crime for CIA operatives to conduct operations inside American borders.
I don't know what you're talking about.
I work for Everglades Air.
Give me a break, that's a CIA cover-- we all know it.
Pride: Prints are all over the van, Jenkins.
So is your handwriting, files.
Tell us what you were doing in Emily Saad's house.
I work for Everglades Air.
You should know that I placed a call to my counterpart at Langley.
How'd that work out for you?
Above your pay grade.
Trust me.
Sounds like an admission to me.
I'm telling you you're wasting your time.
And I'm telling you I don't give a rat's ass about you or the damn CIA.
All I care about is what's going on with that plane crash, and why you're trying to turn Petty Officer Saad into some kind of scapegoat.
Making him look guilty doesn't just destroy his name, it destroys his daughter's, too.
Which begs the question... why'd you att*ck her?
I didn't att*ck her, and I wasn't going to hurt her either.
Then what were you gonna do?
Gregorio: We know CIA drones send signals to your van.
Information gathered from the site which obviously had something to do with the crash and Saad, otherwise, you wouldn't have been there.
Pride: Oh, come on, Jenkins.
What are you looking so hard to find?
I work for Everglades Air.
Talk about your company man.
Even if we can't prove he's CIA, NOPD can hold him for aggravated as*ault.
Try and squeeze him for answers.
It won't work. CIA will have him out of jail by the end of the day-- been down that road before.
He never mentioned Ciudad Natal.
Still think they're somehow involved?
I don't know how else to explain why co-pilot Varela did what he did.
Still, CIA could have moved his wife up the donor list just as easily as Natal.
The best way to find who wanted to bring down that plane and why is to find out what Jenkins wanted from Saad's daughter.
Drink.
Is Loretta making you drink that awful tea?
It's not awful, it's healing.
Be honest.
Sorry. (chuckles)
Well, perhaps it could use a little kick.
Well, you know where it is.
How you holding up?
Head's still spinning.
Sure.
But you should know we think your father's innocent.
Especially because of you.
We know he came back to NOLA to make amends, not take down a plane.
Yeah, well, try telling that to my friends.
They're already texting me about it.
It's all over the news.
Add just a little whiskey and call it a hot toddy.
Whether you know it or not, Emily, you have something that man wanted.
Something that could blow this case wide open.
You sure you don't have any ideas?
I wish I could help. I really do.
It's okay.
We'll take care of it.
We're gonna be searching your dad's house for a while.
You got someplace you can stay tonight, so you won't be alone?
She could stay with me.
Better whiskey there, anyway.
It might be better to get her into an FBI safe house, you know?
Wade: You're adorable, but I can handle myself just fine, thank you.
Copy that.
Come on, dear.
She's tough.
Trust me, you do not want to mess with Miss Loretta.
No, I don't.
Lasalle: I'm telling you, Percy, more agents are just gonna mess things up.
I mean, look at the FBI.
Gregorio is always complaining what a bureaucratic nightmare it is over there.
Scoot over.
Come on!
Excuse me, sir, ex-A*F here.
Look, I like what we got going on, I do.
It's just, a little help with some of this leg work wouldn't hurt.
You know what I'm saying?
Well, a hero's work is never done.
I'm still not even sure what we're looking for.
I'm not sure, either.
But I'm sure we'll know when we find it.
The CIA wasn't after Saad's daughter for no reason.
Sebastian: Bingo!
You find something?
Uh, no, not much.
Just, uh, what the CIA was after, so...
I don't want to brag, but I'm kind of on a roll here after last week.
Last week was the prison break?
The one that I... helped thwart.
No? Okay, it's a tough crowd.
Come on in here.
All right, so news flash-- the CIA is really good at what they do.
They managed to locate a microwave signal that was transmitted from the crash site right after the crash.
Microwave as in cell phone?
Exactly.
Except this signal was sent from Petty Officer Saad's phone, then was transmitted to the cloud right before the phone, uh, b*rned up.
Uh, yeah, De-geek your speak.
All right, look, every mobile device these days connects to the cloud, right?
Which is basically just a server.
But every file that gets sent to the cloud automatically downloads to every other device that's part of that account.
Okay, so we're talking laptops, tablets.
Anything on the family plan, including desktops.
So cell to cloud to family desktop?
Right. But even if the CIA could delete whatever was sent to Saad's cloud file, the only way to erase all the evidence would be to delete all the backup hard drives, too.
Which brings us back to Mr. Desktop here.
I'm telling you guys, I'm on a roll. Check this out.
(clicks, taps keys)
Hey, Emily.
Look, I know I'm the last person you want to speak to...
(man shouts)
Dammit, guys, knock it off!
(laughter)
Hang on, baby, let me go somewhere more private...
(grunts)
Man: Aww! Come on, Saad, we're just playing around!
Whoa!
(shouting, turbine roaring)
Oh, my God.
He was recording when this all went down?
Just watch...
(panting)
I love you, baby.
(crash)
Aah!
What the hell is going on in there?
Aah!
Dios mío!
A seventh passenger.
Purposely left off the manifest.
Any idea who it is?
Gregorio: I think I might know.
Osiel Esparza, chief accountant to the Ciudad Natal.
He knows the structure of the entire organization.
FBI's been working with regional authorities for years to try and locate him.
So, it looks like Isler was right after all, this is about the cartel.
CIA wants the same win and got Esparza first.
They must have been bringing him in.
Except, somehow Natal found out about it first, and they got the co-pilot to crash the plane before they could.
Yeah. Here's the thing.
Six bodies were recovered from the crash, and all were identified, so...
Where's Esparza?
He must've survived.
Which means the CIA drones are looking for him.
Gregorio: Cartel's probably looking for him, too.
I mean, CIA's obviously got a leak, otherwise Natal wouldn't have known to turn the co-pilot.
The bayou's rough terrain.
Esparza won't last long out there either way.
But if we don't find him first and clear Petty Officer Saad's name...
Pride: He'll take the fall, and Emily's gonna have to live with it.
Let's go get Esparza.
(engine rumbling)
Sonja: How do we know CIA hasn't found Esparza yet?
'Cause eyes in the sky are still looking for him, that's why.
That just means CIA hasn't found him, but Natal could've.
They don't have the resources CIA has.
And unless that they know the bayou like Pride does, no chance.
(radio crackles)
We just passed Bayou Saint Denis and Mud Lake, King.
No sign of anything yet.
Pride: We're on the Cutler inlet, just east of you. Should be around here somewhere, keep looking. Over.
(radio crackles)
How can you be so sure the CIA's been looking in the wrong place?
Grew up fishing these backwaters.
Terrain CIA's been searching is too marshy.
Only way out of here on foot is north, to prairie ground.
You're not getting seasick, are you?
Most I've ever done before was kayak on the Potomac.
Got to get you out more, Gregorio.
(whispers): Percy.
We may have something, King.
Stand by.
Blood trail.
Coming from...
Sonja: ...him.
Jenkins.
You should've stayed in jail.
That must be his partner.
Two CIA agents down, one of 'em's Jenkins.
Lasalle: Got to be Natal.
Pride: Copy that, Christopher. Eyes open.
Lasalle... he's still bleeding.
This just happened.
They're nearby, King.
(grunting)
Ugh!
(men speaking Spanish)
Polícia federal!
Stop right there!
(shouting)
Aah!
(grunts)
You good?
Yeah.
King, King.
We're pinned down. We're pinned down.
Pride: Hang tight. Almost there.
(yelling)
Stop right there!
Manos arriba. Ahora!
Sonja: Put your hands up!
Pride: Easy! Down, down, down!
Sonja: Put your hands up! Get on the ground!
It's okay. Mr. Esparza, we're not gonna hurt you.
It's over.
(shudders)
Estás seguro.
Gracias.
Okay?
Sí.
Okay.
(chuckles softly)
(speaking Spanish)
♪ ♪
(jazz music playing)
Sonja: Okay.
Let me get this straight.
Every stupid federal agency in the book was involved with this case, right?
Since the crash.
Plus local cops, NOPD, LSP...
Right, right. And each one of them has dozens more people on payroll.
You still trying to convince me that DOJ's right?
That we need more help here?
The opposite.
You got all these people running around, and we're the ones who figured out about Esparza and got FBI a plum Natal informant?
You, me, Pride and Gregorio.
Hey. Don't forget about...
Bingo, you guessed it.
Got to give Sebastian props, too.
(laughing): Okay.
And Sebastian.
A whopping five people.
And your point is...
I'm thinking maybe you're right.
We should fight DOJ.
One more agent to replace Brody, and that's it.
'Cause we're fine just the way we are.
Ah, you preaching to the choir, Percy.
Still, I got to ask, what changed?
(Southern accent): A hero's work is never done.
(chuckles) That's my girl.
(laughs)
Unfortunately, neither is this paperwork.
Ugh!
And HQ's gonna be all over us on this one.
Yeah. This is where some extra agents would come in handy.
You know? (laughs)
♪ ♪
(door opens)
(grunts)
Sorry, we're not open quite yet.
(chuckles) I'm not here for a drink.
Although after the last couple of days, I could probably use something. Strong.
Ah. Gregorio.
New Orleans is growing on you, huh?
Maybe.
You work a lot, huh?
NCIS, here.
(grunts)
Bar's not work.
I got family history here.
It means something.
Plus... (clicks off music) ...brings folks together.
I even get to play the piano every once in a while.
It's anything but work for me.
How's Emily doing?
Back home.
Lot of feelings to sort through.
At least she's not running from them anymore.
Burden nobody wants.
No way to live, is it?
You know, don't you?
Why I left New Orleans before.
♪ ♪
Couldn't very well bring you on board, even temporarily, without fully vetting you first. Sorry.
I'm surprised you let me walk through the door.
Your husband.
McKinley.
He's the one who stole the money meant for the rebuild after Katrina, not you.
Ex-husband.
Still, we were married.
Moved down here from New York.
I should've known.
Well, I was just a kid when I met him, you know, I fell for the razzle and dazzle.
I didn't even know who I was yet.
Last I heard, McKinley's still on the run.
Yep.
Me, too, in my own way.
Couldn't get out of NOLA fast enough afterwards.
Took back my maiden name.
(softly): I'm sorry.
I'm gonna go.
Aren't you tired of running?
(exhales)
Yes, I am.
The problem is, everywhere I turn, I see what my husband did to this place.
So, what, you up and joined the FBI?
Make amends for what he did?
Yeah. Something like that.
So, what, you're gonna tell the others, now?
Not my story to tell.
But you should know... NOLA's been through a lot more than just...
Katrina. It's... a pretty forgiving city, if you let it be.
Take my word for it.