You want to make a statement?
You wanna gangsta up, homie?
Yeah.
You got to go bold, all right?
Double action old school.
It's sweet, it's simple, accurate, never jams. Here we go, give it a try.
Where?
I don't know, just sh**t the pipe.
Nice sh*t.
What else you got?
All right.
Got the homie's best friend here, all right?
It's a 9 mil, it's Beretta. It's Italian.
All right, it's 15 plus one in the snout.
I'll throw in a box of hollow point hot loads. Trust me, your stuff will be safe, okay? Here, here we go.
Bad boy is tight!
You ain't seen the baddest boy yet, all right?
Sweet Mother of God.
The pagans shall quake.
It's a TEC-9. It's top of the line. Fully a*t*matic.
You can empty the clip in four seconds flat.
Are you man enough for this?
Yeah.
Yeah.
Yeah!
All right, give it a sh*t, give it a ride.
You like that?
Yeah.
You're looking taller already, buddy.
Let's get the hell out of here! Let's go! Let's go!
NCIS Season 6 Episode 15 Deliverance
Miss anything, McLovin?
Just this.
It's from a woman named Melinda. She had to postpone.
Postpone what?
I don't know.
Figured that you'd figure it out.
How did she sound?
How did she sound?
I ask the question, you give the answer. How did she sound?
I don't know, Tony.
You don't know.
Well, why don't you try using your words, Mr. Gemcity?
Devastated?
Despondent?
Delighted.
All right.
What's her number, McDetail?
She didn't leave one.
It's customary to get a name, a number and a complete message. This is not a complete message.
This is a complete mess.
How many Melindas do you have in?
I don't know.
The girl I talked to at the gym?
You don't go to the gym.
Maybe it was the girl I talked to at the dog park.
You don't have a dog.
Could it be that girl I met at the concession stand while my date was in the bathroom?
You need a secretary.
Or a therapist.
Or both.
sh*ts fired in Liberty Heights. Saddle it up.
If we were called every time sh*ts were fired at Liberty Heights...
Yeah, well, Metro responded. They found a dead Marine.
Victim is Private First Class Emilio Salazar.
Joined the Marines four months ago.
Scheduled for deployment next week.
Ducky?
Stuck in traffic. Should be here in about 20 minutes.
Nine millimeter shells. Possibly two g*ns.
And based on the level of penetration on that wall, I would say .357.
No shells, which means a revolver.
One sh**t, three weapons.
There's two sets of footprints.
sh**t could have had a spotter.
Or a lookout.
Or a witness.
New Marine regulations don't allow for exposed ink.
He had his tat removed, laser.
Looks like... "P..."
It looks like this.
PCS.
All right, I'll check with Metro's g*ng unit.
b*ll*ts hit the skylight... k*lling our Marine.
Sending him on a very short bungee plunge.
But why sh**t your hostage from down here?
Maybe they were sending a message.
The kind of McGee takes... cryptic, hard to decipher.
Blood.
This blood is dried.
But Metro made their "sh*ts fired" call less than an hour ago.
Looks like the West just got a bit wilder.
Cuffs, boss.
Skin, blood...
This guy was strapped up here for a while.
That's why prefer the fur handcuffs.
Not really, boss. That's for her.
I don't wear the cuffs.
Someone was trying to send a message.
Written in blood.
Phone number?
Not a phone number.
I don't know what the "G" stands for, but it's nine digits. Could be a m*llitary service number.
I'll run it.
You don't have to.
It's mine.
Where is he?
I'm not exactly sure, Director.
Tell him I need to see him.
I will give him the message.
And the nature of the message.
I'll include who it's from and the number.
Why would anyone leave Gibbs' Marine service number on a rooftop crime scene?
Agent Gibbs' desk.
No, he's not here.
But I'd be happy to take a detailed message.
Flight arrives at 2:30.
Can I take a name or a return number?
Okay. I will.
A name and a number.
Enough, okay?
I understand. I am sorry, but what do you want me to do? You want me to sort through the database of every call that came into the switchboard this morning and match the incoming call to your desk phone using a date and a time stamp?
Yeah, actually. That'd be great. Thanks.
Hey, boss, got two messages for you, actually, right there. Sorry.
Director Vance wants you to call him back ASAP, and the... the other is...
And then there's that one.
It says that the flight arrives at 2:30. It's from M Street Travel.
I assume it's a travel agent. Didn't say where the flight was from or who the passenger was, but if you want to share that, you can feel...
Dead Marine?
PFC Emilio Salazar. Service record.
18-year-old. Completed basic training at Parris Island two months ago and was stationed at Quantico.
Had more than a service record.
Criminal record goes back to 2003, when Emilio was 12.
All juvenile offenses. All g*ng-related.
g*ng tattoos.
Or Pecados Capitales.
Capital Fish?
Deadly Sins, you idiot. Fish is pescado.
Don't scoff at me.
Lots of gangs are named after deadly fish.
There's the Sharks, there's the Barracudas...
Rumble Fish.
These guys are also known as the PCs.
Sounds like your kind of g*ng, McMotherboard.
Kid lives through six years in a g*ng, can't survive four months as a Marine.
Maybe someone didn't want him to leave the g*ng?
Maybe a rival g*ng k*lled him?
Though that wouldn't explain your service number, boss.
Focus on tracking the k*ller.
And the other person who may have been held there?
Find the sh**t.
Vance wanted to call him ASAP, boss.
Heard you the first time, DiNozzo.
Private Jackson, do not shut your eyes when you squeeze the trigger!
Eyes off the toys, David. We didn't come here to play.
I have not been to the range in days.
No talking on the range, please.
Well, that's going to be a real problem, Staff Sergeant Medina,
'cause I'm real talky... and I have a badge.
Is there somewhere we can talk?
Cease fire! Cease fire!
Clear and lock 'em!
Stand by!
Thank you.
A man in your unit was k*lled last night.
How'd it happen?
Firefight. He lost.
Someone sh*t him?
Several times.
You know who did it?
If we did, we would not be here.
Thought you could help.
Any way I can.
He was k*lled in the neighborhood where he grew up.
He ever talk about his past? Gangs, trouble?
All the time. He was trying to escape it.
So you knew he had a record before he joined the Marines?
Some of these kids grew up in a jungle a lot more dangerous than the desert we're sending them to.
Salazar ever drop names, g*ng affiliations, enemies?
No, nothing specific.
He had troubles like any kid who runs in g*ng circles, but he didn't name anybody.
If you can think of anything, let me know.
Berettas... nine millimeter.
Feel free.
Do you mind?
Not at all, ma'am.
Do your best.
Oh, God.
Stand by, station two, for live fire!
I prefer the SIG.
A lot of women have trouble with the Beretta.
Thing's got too much of a kick.
Your sight is a few millimeters off.
Really?
Really.
Prior to PFC Salazar's demise, handcuffs made these abrasions and lacerations.
Yeah, well, he wasn't held there long.
No. He was ex*cuted almost immediately upon his confinement.
As to the cause of death...
g*nshots.
Well, yes and no.
These wounds were made by machine-g*n fire.
The spacing is too symmetrical for random sh**ting.
Also, they showed no signs of redness or braiding and bruising, indicating that our private was long dead when he was strafed.
How long?
About six hours based on his liver temperature.
And here... single round, nine millimeter punctured the pericardial sac, causing a cardiac tamponade.
He suffered greatly, Jethro... perhaps for 20 or 30 minutes... and he did not die quickly.
The b*llet that k*lled him?
In the capable hands of Abby Sciuto.
You've never left a scene of a crime before I arrived until this one, Jethro.
Yeah. Had something else to do.
Something to do with your Marine Corps service number?
I was wondering the same thing myself.
You're avoiding me.
I've been busy solving a m*rder, Leon.
When I have something, you'll be the first to know.
I'm looking for a Marine file.
A classified one.
Top secret, eyes only.
Black Ops.
Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs.
Next time you're having guests, probie, have some scotch in the house.
You couldn't sweet-talk the flight attendant out a few of those little bottles?
He wasn't my type.
Right.
What's so urgent?
You pulled me away from my granddaughter.
Just celebrated her second birthday.
I'm looking for somebody.
Rose.
Vance know I'm here yet?
Not yet.
Maybe I should borrow a tie.
Colombia was a long time ago, gunny.
Only one person knew about her.
You.
18 years is a long time, probie.
She's in D.C.
Today.
Mike.
What do you want me to say?
Whatever you're not saying.
How do you know she's here, for sure?
My Marine service number was written on the roof of a crime scene.
In blood.
That could have been anybody.
I put a "G" on the end of it, just for her.
I brought her here 17 years ago.
Where is she now?
I haven't seen her since the day I dropped her off.
Let's start there.
You put her here?
Wasn't such a hellhole then.
Que pasa?
Que es lo que miras?
I'm looking for Rose Tamayo.
Ma, alguien esta a la puerta.
Que se les ofrece?
Buscando Rosa Tamayo?
Ella se murio hace diez años.
We're a little late.
She d*ed ten years ago.
Guess somebody else knows your Marine service number, probie.
Howdy, Leon.
He has information on a current case.
And I need his help.
Thanks for sorting out that little pension problem, Leon. Appreciate it.
I didn't do anything I wouldn't have done for any former agent.
All by the book.
Absolutely.
By the book.
That's how we operate now.
Wouldn't have it any other way, Leon.
Think he noticed my tie?
What do we got?
We canvassed the area. No one is talking.
There is a smurf w*r...
Turf w*r. between two competing gangs, the PCs and the Verde Psychos.
Ballistics.
We matched the slug that k*lled PFC Salazar to a g*n that was used in an unsolved robbery two weeks ago. And...
Metro's chief suspect is...
Victor Carmado, a.k.a. Popeye.
Victor Carmado is a known member of the PCs.
He was hanging out with his posse at Liberty Heights today.
DiNozzo, Ziva, bring him in.
Howdy, darling!
Franks!
What are you doing here?
Probie thinks I'm here helping him, but it was just an excuse to come see you.
Abs, tune it down.
This is so cool.
Someone writes your service number on a roof, and then you just show up.
It's like sending out the bat signal and having Batman just show up.
And his mentor, Ra's al Ghul.
Or like Princess Lela sending a hologram: "Help me, Obi-Wan".
And then getting Obi-Wan with his mentor, Qui-Gon Jinn.
It's weird 'cause Liam Neeson played both the mentors.
You gonna tell me why I'm here?
I ran the blood from the service number.
It does not match our dead Marine, Emilio Salazar.
I already know that.
Of course you do.
Hopefully, it'll be news to you that the blood did belong to another Marine:
Private First Class Tomás Tamayo.
Judging by the look on your face, that is news to you.
He comes from the same neighborhood as PFC Salazar.
According to his records, his mother d*ed ten years ago after emigrating from Colombia.
Rose had a son?
Yeah. He was about a year old when I brought her here.
You knew?
I'm guessing you didn't.
I need an address, Abs.
57 Kensington Street.
The home belongs to a woman named Maggie Scott.
Might want to take this slow, probie. Might not like where it leads you.
Popeye Carmado?
NCIS.
Are we all listening to the same song?
Let me guess.
Ricky Martin fans.
"Livin' La Vida Loca."
You ought to leave, man.
But we just got here.
But this is a very dangerous neighborhood.
That's why I brought her.
La Bonita es una federale.
Federales saben buenas.
La Bonita will kick your ass.
Is that right?
You know, bad things happen in this place, mamita.
But it's so homey, homey.
I love what you've done with the wall here.
"Snoopy loves Chiquita?"
Which one of you sleeps on a doghouse and which one's a banana?
I'm guessing the love is between you two. Am I wrong?
Think they want to play rock, paper, scissors?
You got them?
I've got them.
What's the matter? Popeye didn't eat his spinach this morning?
Rico!
Chuy!
"Rico Suave" is stuck in the '90s, and Chewie's back with the Millennium Falcon.
Let's go see how La Bonita did.
What took you so long?
What are you doing? Why are you digging through the NCIS database?
This woman called for Tony, and I didn't get the number.
It was blocked by the carrier, so I am trying to coordinate a trace...
Well, drop the call. This is much more important.
Okay, what's up?
I heard something.
Not a complete something, a partial something.
But enough of something to make me think it means something.
So I need to know if there's any other... something that you know about?
What...
I'm lost.
Okay. It's something about Gibbs.
And Colombia.
And a woman named Rose.
And a son she had 18 years ago.
That would be 1991... before Gibbs joined NCIS.
Come on, McGee.
Type something about the something into something.
Open, he's open.
Give me the ball.
sh**t it.
Nice sh**ting, lady.
Get a lot of practice around here.
You Maggie Scott?
Hey, Henry, come in for me, okay?
What happened? You guys Metro?
NCIS.
Who got hit? Somebody from this block?
I understand this is the home of Tomás Tamayo.
Why? Is he all right?
He was involved in a m*rder.
Oh, my God.
No, he wasn't the victim.
Someone a couple of streets over.
Emilio Salazar.
Emilio.
Yeah, he's a... he's a friend of Tomás'.
His mother, has anyone contacted Emilio's mother?
Being done now.
Where is Tomás?
He's on leave, Cape Hatteras.
Before Afghanistan.
Wrong.
He was at a crime scene last night in D.C.
Hold on.
You were his legal guardian?
Legal guardian to a lot of these kids. Keeps them out of the system.
I just watch them till their moms get home from work. Most don't have fathers.
Two of them lost siblings, past couple months.
w*r?
g*ng w*r.
You're not from around here, are you?
I moved here after college. Part of the Vista program.
I never left.
How'd you become Tomás' guardian?
Tomás moved in about...
12 years back.
Then when Rose got sick... his mother has cancer... she asked me to look after him.
He's a good kid.
He's a really good kid.
Oh, my God, It's okay. He's here.
It's Tomás. It's Tomás.
Tomás!
Are you all right?
I'm fine.
What is this?
I was so worried about you.
What's going on?
You want to tell us where you been for the past 48 hours?
Cape Hatteras with friends.
We checked.
Your cell calls were all made from a two-block area of D.C.
Why were you being held here?
I wasn't.
My m*llitary service number.
Your blood on the roof.
You got my attention, Tomás. I'm here. What do you want?
It wasn't me.
I cut myself training.
Gibbs and the kid.
It was your damn blood on the roof.
What's the connection?
We tested it.
And why the kid gloves?
Hey, let me out!
Our friend from the hood.
Think he's chilled long enough?
Time to unpop his cork.
Let me out of here!
Cool it, Coolio!
No g*ng banging on the walls.
Sit down.
I ain't sitting down.
Sientate!
Or do you want La Bonita to sit your ass down?
I thought you all forgot about me, that's all.
You in a hurry to get somewhere, Popeye?
'Cause you sure ain't going home to Olive Oyl and Sweet Pea any time soon.
You're going to prison.
Says who?
Says the nine-millimeter slug we pulled out of PFC Emilio Salazar.
Matches the slug from another sh**ting you were involved in.
If witnesses put me there, I'd have been locked up already.
We have a dead Marine, former g*ng member of yours.
This is the m*rder w*apon.
Found dumped in a storm drain.
Recognize it?
That's it?
That's all you got?
It's all we need.
It's all circumstantial.
I think you got nothing.
I think what you need is a confession.
You are looking at ten years for accessory to a m*rder of a U.S. Marine.
More if we tag you for m*rder one.
Your sweat was on that roof.
Your pee was on that roof.
Your blood was on that roof.
You gonna tell us what happened on that roof?!
If you don't tell us who else was there, who put that b*llet in PFC Salazar, we're gonna have to assume it was you.
I didn't k*ll Emilio.
Who did?
Me. I k*lled the little bitch.
You k*lled PFC Salazar?
Yeah, I did it.
You got me.
The fool deserved to die.
How'd it go down, Victor?
I sh*t him. That's how it went down.
Put the g*n to his head...
Blew his brains out.
You sh*t him in the head?
Lights out, baby.
JFK style.
Back and to the left, know what I'm saying?
One sh*t... to the chest.
That's what k*lled your friend Emilio.
But he didn't die right away. It took time.
Maybe 20 minutes.
b*llet nicked his heart.
Blood poured into his lungs.
Remember, Tomás?
No.
He would have had trouble breathing.
The pain must have been excruciating.
But you know all this, don't you, Marine?!
I wasn't there.
Popeye didn't pop the guy.
No way a kid like that took down two Marines.
Probably taking credit for a street k*ll to elevate his stature.
Get anything on PFC Tamayo?
He's scared.
He's hiding something.
They both are.
Something more going on than that.
You're right, probie.
g*ng bangers don't kidnap their enemies. They sh**t them in the street.
Somebody's pulling strings, calling sh*ts.
I think I know who.
I've been crosschecking the Metro g*ng Task Force's list of known PC members against cell numbers registered in their names.
One common phone number keeps popping up.
It's a number from outside the neighborhood that called almost every member of the PC g*ng.
That's the C.O. from the sh**ting range.
Staff Sergeant Vicente Medina.
That's not all. I looked into the Staff Sergeant's history.
It seems he shares a bit more than phone records in common.
He wasn't just recruiting from the PCs.
He was a member.
Get him in here.
Yeah, Gibbs.
Need you in my office.
I'll be right there.
Marine file.
It's yours.
I haven't read it yet, and I won't if you'd prefer I didn't.
I thought it might shed some light on what the hell happened in Colombia 18 years ago... unless you'd prefer to.
I got nothing to hide, Leon.
Everybody's got something to hide.
Franks is a part of this?
A little part.
Some good stuff in the last five pages.
How many men have you k*lled?
Seven confirmed.
Where?
Three in Anbar, two in Fallouja, one in Baghdad, one in Tora Bora.
How about Washington D.C.?
None.
You knew Emilio Salazar?
His Platoon Sergeant, sir.
He's a g*ng member just like you are.
That was a long time ago.
That was last night!
Sir, I did not k*ll that Marine!
What were you doing last night?
I was at home watching TV.
Anybody watching you watching TV?
No.
Your place is 20 minutes from our crime scene.
Phone records.
You made contact with half the PC posse over the past six months.
Rap sheet, yours.
sh*t caller for the PCs for three years.
Once a Marine, always a Marine.
Or once a PC, always a PC!
I lived the life. It's not a secret.
I liked it till I saw what was happening to my friends: in dead or jail by 17.
So I joined the Marine Corps.
Made me a better person. Came back to the hood and tried to convince others to make something of themselves.
Ran a system-wide facial recognition search.
I thought you'd want to see this right away.
Okay, let's try this again. Where were you last night?
I told you I was at home.
Baltimore!
That was taken last night!
You couldn't have k*lled him.
Why are you lying?
I went to visit my son.
When I was 15, I made some mistakes. I got a girl pregnant.
And my wife... she doesn't know I have a kid.
I know what we got, nothing.
Guess we all make mistakes, huh, probie?
Got two Marines chained to a roof. Don't know why.
Got somebody behind it pulling strings. Don't know who.
Can we wind the clock back to the part where we find out what he was doing in Colombia?
Or how it is connected to the g*ng?
Got a punk who didn't k*ll anybody who says he did, and a kid who wrote probie's service number in blood saying he didn't.
You done?
Done watching you shave with a butter Kn*fe.
Let me talk to that kid.
I'll get him to tell us what the hell's going on here.
I can't do that, Mike. I let him go.
You what?
If you want to find something, you follow it. I learned that one from you.
You two...
MTAC with McGee.
Got it, boss.
Think I don't know what you're doing?
Trying to get that boy off?
Yeah, gonna lead us to the truth.
The truth.
Yeah, which you should have told me 17 years ago.
When I got Rose out of Colombia, you were happily married again.
Or so I thought.
What's the truth?!
The truth is, she didn't want you to know!
She knew you were still putting the pieces back together after Shannon and Kelly.
Didn't want to complicate your life.
Guess she didn't get her wish after all.
Maybe Gibbs was on a covert mission to suppress the Fujimori coup.
That was Peru, not Colombia.
Okay, boss, we're still following the GPS signal from PFC Tamayo's cell phone.
He drove to Quantico. He's been there about 20 minutes.
Quantico's that way, probie.
We're not going to Quantico. That's his first stop.
We're going to his last.
Like the lady said, Mike. "It's a w*r".
So he's down in Colombia in Bogota.
He saves President Clinton's life, but nobody can talk about it because it's super secret.
Clinton did not serve until '93.
Stop obsessing!
I'm not obsessing! I'm a little preoccupied.
I'm a tad fascinated by the whole subject, but I am not... obsessing.
What was he doing in Colombia 17 years ago?
18 years ago... and it's classified, DiNozzo.
Is that classified, too, or can you share with your director?
We're tracking a suspect for Gibbs, Director.
Franks is with him?
That's what I thought.
PFC Tamayo's just left Quantico.
He's now headed towards Liberty Heights. So, what do you want us to do?
Whatever you were doing before I walked in.
What's Tamayo's duty assignment at Quantico?
Guard duty at the base armory.
And the dead Marine?
PFC Salazar was also a guard at the armory.
Means they both had access to the armory codes.
Stepping back. Excuse me.
Get base security on the phone.
Yes, sir.
If this kid starts sh**ting, you're gonna sh**t back, right?
This is a really bad time, Leon.
I just got off the phone with the Armory O.I.C. at Quantico.
Four crates of M-4 as*ault r*fles are missing.
That's your PFC Tamayo.
Gangs, g*ns.
It adds up.
We're still monitoring his GPS.
He's headed back toward the projects.
The projects!
Yeah, we got him, we got him.
I did what you wanted.
No, you listen to me!
You want 'em, you come get 'em. Second floor, I'm waiting.
This is about to get real interesting, probie.
Building across the street.
Traffic camera, 3837 Ashton.
Got it.
Record it.
Recording.
You alone, homes?
Zoom in on those guys.
In.
Those two.
Aren't those the two guys?
Chuy and Rico.
I should have hit them harder.
You got 'em?
Freeze! Freeze!
Put your hands in the air!
Put your hands in the air!
You thought you were gonna use Marine g*ns to k*ll my friends?
Something's going down.
Somebody's behind him. McGee, zoom out, zoom out.
No! This ends here!
What the hell?
Don't move, Sergeant.
Call for an ambulance and backup.
Everywhere you go, kid, somebody gets sh*t.
3832 Ashton sh*ts fired. Possible multiple casualties...
Keep pressure on it.
Hey, Leon.
Let me talk to him.
He's busy.
Can I take a message?
You just sh*t somebody, Franks.
Yeah. All by the book, Leon.
Retired-agent, involved sh**ting.
That's still a form KJ-65, right?
Nice talking to you, Leon.
It was me.
I ordered him to take those weapons off the base and bring 'em here like they wanted.
Why?
Because I was...
No, not you. You.
They held me on the roof.
Said they'd hurt everyone I love unless I got them the as*ault weapons.
I didn't believe them. They used to be my friends.
Then they threatened Emilio. sh*t him in front of me.
I thought they were gonna k*ll me, too.
That why you wrote my service number?
When I found out you were NCIS, I wanted to tell you, but...
I ordered him not to.
Why?
Using Marine g*ns to k*ll kids in my hood, kids I was trying to save, it made me sick.
I wanted to handle it myself.
We take care of our own.
Those guys are just the hired help.
Can I talk to him?
No, he's going to prison.
Please, I...
He stole weapons from a Marine base to arm a street g*ng.
People d*ed.
He confessed to everything.
All of it, his idea.
And he's going away.
Unless you've got something to say.
Wait.
He didn't do anything. He's lying.
Hold up.
Nobody was supposed to get hurt.
They were just supposed to scare them so that Tomás or Emilio would get the g*ns.
For the PCs, Emilio wasn't supposed to get sh*t.
That was an accident, I swear.
Who needed weapons, Maggie?
Our kids.
In the neighborhood, on our block.
They were getting k*lled every day.
Slaughtered by drug dealers and bigger gangs.
They are dying every day!
I had to protect them.
By what, arming them with as*ault r*fles?
I grew up in the Cold w*r. My dad talked about deterrence... if you build up an arsenal that rivals your enemy's, they won't att*ck you.
You understand?
Case closed... my case, and you being on it.
"Melinda."
"555-0199."
Hold the phone, Malone, I know that number.
You should... it's your dentist's office.
They rescheduled your appointment.
That Melinda. The one with the man hands.
Well, I hope you learned a lesson, probie.
Yeah... never to pick up your phone again.
Wait a second.
It was right in front of me the whole time.
Franks! I've got a question for you.
Got a plane to catch.
18 years ago, Colombia.
Gibbs was doing drug interdiction down there.
Tomás is 18, from Colombia.
Knows Gibbs's Marine service number.
Question?
Is Gibbs Tomás' father?
Tell probie... thanks for the lend.
No. Sit down. As you were.
Your orders. Shipping out to Afghanistan.
I'm not going to jail?
You helped the investigation.
My mother used to tell me this story about a Marine.
He came to help out our village.
But the drug cartel came after him... sh*t him. He almost d*ed.
She hid him, helped him heal.
That was you.
And when you finally got well... you told her that if she ever needed any help, she could give that number to any Marine and you would find her.
She made me memorize that number.
You're the reason I became a Marine.
When your mother saved my life, she was already pregnant with you.
Most people, they don't get a second chance.
Good luck.
Semper Fi.
Hurra!
Read about the mission to eliminate Cesar Castillo from the Cali Cartel in Colombia.
Good read?
It was impressive.
Took out your target with one sh*t to the heart from 1, 200 yards.
This Castillo was a piece of work.
Drug dealer, torturer, r*pist.
I did my job.
And the mission would've gone off without a hitch if you hadn't been wounded.
Well, I guess you're all caught up now, Leon.
Must've been poignant... helping out the son of the woman that saved your life.
Did you tell the boy that the man you k*lled was his father?