01x23 - Burned

Morning, Phil.

Tom, how you doing?

It's almost Friday.

Rough week to be selling insurance?

You want me to tell you about it?

No, thank you, Tom.

Excuse me.

Uh-huh.

There's a bakery around here, isn't there?

Yeah, it is two blocks up, and make a left.

Thanks.

(Tires screeching)

(Horn honks)

(Horn honks)

(Horn beeps)

(Tires screeching, horn honking)

(Bystanders scream, gasp)

My God.

God.

He... he, he just ran in the street. I...

Driver: Did anyone else see that?

Callen...

Cal... Callen.

Driver: I couldn't stop...

Oh, God... oh, God...

Man: Somebody call an ambulance!

Woman: Somebody call 911!

(Driver moans) Oh, God...

Woman 2: Call 911!

NCIS Los Angeles - 1x23 "burned" aired on may 17, 2010 (Canada)

So, last night, I'm having a drink at the place Macy took me after my first shootout.

Just wanted some alone time.

But this guy walks over.

Attractive, well-dressed, bonus points for taking the lead.

You know the drill.

All too well.

Guess what he used as his opener.

"Hi. My name is Mr. I have no idea what I'm in for.

Can I buy you a drink?"

See? Now, there wouldn't have been anything wrong with that.

But that's not what he said.

"Hey there.

Noticed your boots.

Takes a girl with a unique style to pull that off."

"Unique style"?

As in weird? As in ugly?

The boots were completely normal.

The boots don't matter.

He was running game on you.

What?

Game.

The art of seduction.

He offered to buy you a drink, he'd be looking to get your approval, but he turned the tables on you.

Yeah, putting me on the defensive.

And trying to earn his approval on a subconscious level.

It's game.

That stuff doesn't work on me.

At least you didn't give him your number.

Right?

Oh, boy.

Have you seen Callen today?

(Keypad beeping)

(Phone rings)

This guy buy you a drink?

Told me he'd let me buy him a drink.

Game.

Kept checking his phone like he had better places to be.

Game.

Leaned in for a kiss 15 minutes after meeting me.

Definitely game.

At least you didn't let him.

Right?

No.

(Whistling)

Hetty: Who do you think taught Mr. Beal to do that?

Sam: What's up, Hetty?

Agent Callen's in trouble.

Uh, he enacted the Beauregard protocol via text message.

His current cover's been blown.

How did this happen?

Hetty: That's not clear for the moment.

The only thing we know for certain is that our operations have been breached.

As of this moment, we are not to make contact with him... that means you, Mr. Hanna.

Eric: Callen's message to Hetty also contained a location in Venice.

Intersection of horizon and speedway.

That's two blocks from his rooming house.

This is traffic cam footage pulled from that intersection approximately 15 minutes ago.

I'll call Deeks, make sure LAPD knows we'll be handling this discreetly.

Eric, pull up everything you've got about this guy.

(Typing)

Eric: According to initial reports, the dead man's name was Michael St. Paris.

No criminal record.

Employed by Northgate Elite Security.

They're a private investigation firm.

Specialize in surveillance work.

He was running a tail.

G caught him, so St. Paris bolted.

I'll call Northgate and see who hired them.

Eric: Callen left the crash scene almost immediately.

He must have stuck to blind spots and moved fast, because no cameras got him.

Also, his phone went dead right after he sent that alert to Hetty.

Off the grid.

Could this have anything to do with agent Macy's murder in Annapolis?

No.

It's unrelated.

What's Callen going to do now?

What he does best.

Become a ghost.

Hmm.

So we can't find him.

Not until he's ready to be found.

(Raspy): Thank you.

Northgate said an unidentified man hired them over the phone to keep tabs on g's movements.

A single payment was sent as a cashier's check.

Firm didn't ask any questions.

Well, how long was the tail active?

G caught their man within minutes.

The firm was only tasked with surveillance.

No background.

They don't know anything about NCIS or Callen's identity.

All they got from the man who hired them was Callen's name and address.

Hey, buddy.

Buddy, weirdest thing just happened.

Guy just called the store.

Says he wants to talk to my most recent customer, which is you.

Yeah?

Man (British accent): Mr. Callen.

Or do you prefer Special Agent?

Sorry, bud. Wrong guy.

The pay phone on Ocean Walk and Sunset.

You got three minutes.

And Mr. Callen, I know what the "G" stands for.

(Phone ringing)

Callen: That's for me. All right, man.

Okay, I'm here. Who is it?

My name is Eugene Keelson.

I don't believe we've had the pleasure yet.

We haven't.

So, who are you?

Someone who knows more than just your name and address.

I have answers.

And the name of the individual who hired me to uncover every detail about you.

(Steady beeping)

Sam, Kensi, I just got a message from Callen.

He's at a pay phone at the corner of Ocean Walk and Sunset.

I'm initiating a trace now.

Okay, I'll bite.

What do you know?

A wealth of information that I think you'd be interested in.

What?

And I'm willing to share this information in exchange for a small favor.

What makes you think you've found something I haven't?

Because I have access to things you don't even know exist.

See, you haven't been asking the right questions.

This goes deeper than your name, your family.

You've been asking who, when maybe you should start asking why.

How small is this favor?

(Click, dial tone)

(Beeping, Eric sighs)

Caller disconnected.

I was five seconds away from triangulating his location.

He knew what we were doing as we were doing it.

(Phone rings)

Impressive.

Well, some people play checkers.

We both play chess, don't we?

You say you got answers.

Show me.

Reach underneath the pay phone.

You'll find an envelope. Open it.

Does that qualify as proof, Mr. Callen?

Mr. Callen?

How did you get this?

You need to decide if you're going to do this favor for me or not.

Tell me what you want me to do.

You see the flash drive?

Deliver it to some clients of mine.

A group of Bulgarians.

The location is listed inside the envelope.

You're going to give them the flash drive in exchange for a cash payment.

Who will the Bulgarians think I am?

Me.

Will they expect an accent?

No, they think I'm American.

But, be warned, if you are unable to convince my clients that you are, indeed, Eugene Keelson, they will not hesitate to kill you.

You having second thoughts?

Well, I've been set up before, and this is pretty much the way it feels.

If I can get to you, how easy do you think it would be for me to get to the rest of your team?

NCIS has been compromised.

The only way you'll find out how badly is by doing as you're told.

Where do I bring the cash after I've done the deal?

I'll contact you.

You have 30 minutes to get it to the Bulgarians.

If you contact anyone else, our deal is off.

If you try to de-crypt the drive, our deal is off.

Keelson...

If you ever wanted to find out the truth about yourself, now's your chance.

Do you understand?

Yes.

Your new outfit looks sharp, but I'd lose the baseball cap if I were you, Mr. Callen.

Aw! I was able to triangulate the source to within one block of the pay phone, but whoever it was disconnected just in time.

Pre-paid burn phone, most likely.

Guy's probably already trashed it, and now he's...

(alarm beeping)

Eric: Server breach alert in the ops center?

Hold on... I gotta I. D. this and be sure.

Kensi: Is it related to Callen's call?

No, no, no, totally separate.

Trojan horse virus. Conficker variant.

F-type strain.

This is a serious attack.

I'm opening firewalls to block it from accessing any more of our system.

Kensi: What's happening, Eric?

Eric: It's broken through the firewalls.

I'm losing control of a system.

Nate: Can you stop it?

It's starting to access our files.

I know, I can route it in from another segment.

Turn the system off, Eric.

Which one?

All of them.

Hetty: We're going dark.

Okay.

(Sighs)

Ladies and gentlemen, we are officially off-line.

We're blind.

And if G tries to check in with us...

He'll get a standardized prerecorded service error message.

He's out in the cold.

Alone.

(Line ringing)

Female voice: The number you have reached is not in service at this time, and there...

(keypad beeping)

Male voice: You have reached a number that is not in service.

Please check the number and try your call again.

(Keypad beeping)

(Camera clicks)

I'm Marinov.

Keelson.

My invitation said, uh... casual, but okay.

Search him.

Callen: Right there. Beautiful.

I recently spoke to our mutual friend in Chechnya.

He says your source inside the FSB has proven quite valuable to the cause.

Yeah, well, I don't discuss friends or sources.

Works out better for everyone that way.

I appreciate a man who's all business.

I appreciate a good client.

You got some money for me, or what?

I think he's going to be disappointed.

(Chuckles)

Show me the flash drive first.

I want to verify the information.

Knock yourself out.

Satisfied?

Looks accurate to me.

Wonderful.

So where's my money?

Yes, my money.

The problem is, you already have it, Mr. Keelson.

Excuse me?

Last year, the guard shift changes you sold me for the airstrip in Chisinau?

They were wrong.

Wrong?

Like hell they were wrong.

That... that information was rock solid.

If you screwed it up, that's your problem.

You think you can play me for a fool, Keelson?

All right, look, a little misunderstanding, okay?

Obviously something got lost in translation.

We're all good.

Let's just... we'll call it even.

Everyone walks away.

(Gunfire blasting)

(Typing)

Sidewinder rugged appliance.

The most secure portable IPs antivirus URL Geo-location encrypted application filtering in the world.

Let's find out how far inside the castle walls this Trojan horse rode.

I'm on it.

(Door opening)

Agent Renko, with Mr. Callen having gone "Three days of the condor" on us,

I think we need every able body we can muster.

Speaking of which, where's Sam?

Hmm. Where indeed?

(Sighs)

As far as fail-safe rally points go, I've seen worse.

You said the same thing when we picked this out five years ago.

Hoped we'd never meet like this, G.

Thought we'd never get made?

A man can hope, can't he?

First Dom... then Macy.

Now this.

Something's going on, Sam.

Hetty's convinced they're mutually exclusive.

You once told me we ain't working hard enough, if nobody's trying to kill us.

I said that? Really?

Make you feel better?

A little bit.

Who burned you?

A guy named Eugene Keelson.

Someone hired him to find out about me.

He did his job well.

What is it?

It's a list of every foster home I ever stayed at.

All 37 of 'em.

Some of those addresses aren't even in my NCIS file.

Why contact you?

Wanted me to meet with some Bulgarians.

Pose as him.

Exchange a flash drive for a payoff.

I'm gonna guess they didn't play nice.

After they downloaded the file, there was no money.

Just guns.

I was an insurance policy in case things went south.

And you thought going it alone with a group of armed thugs seemed like a good idea?

Keelson implied that NCIS had been compromised.

It's more than an implication.

Eric found a Trojan horse virus.

Had to take the ops center off-line.

This is as close as I've ever come to finding out who I really am.

That's what I'm worried about, G.

I took photos.

Keep your head down.

Stay out of sight.

As far as I can tell, the Trojan horse didn't get beyond Callen's files.

Keep looking.

Mr. Hanna.

You know, I'm aware you speak several languages, but I don't recall having used one you're unfamiliar with when I instructed you to not make contact with Mr. Callen.

What makes you so sure that I cont...?

It was a breach of protocol...

And one I understand.

So, what do we have?

The guy who burned Callen is named Eugene Keelson.

Callen made a drop for him with some Bulgarian heavies, but it went all wrong.

This guy's got information about g's past.

Things even NCIS doesn't know about.

That's what he handed over to the to the Bulgarians.

Eric: Oh, this is encrypted big-time.

Without the mainframe, this is gonna take a while.

These are the photos he took before he made the drop.

We need to find everything we can on Mr. Keelson before he destroys this unit.

All the Eugene Keelsons Madi found check out.

Same here.


This temporary server is stone age compared to the ops center, but I just got hits on the Bulgarians from Callen's camera.

Luka Dimitrov...

Ilia Tagkov, Kosta Daimov.

It's a lot of "ov's."

All shot and killed this morning, except for this one...

Ruman Marinov.

All are former Bulgarian military now involved with organized crime in the U. S.

They're using a restaurant downtown as a front.

How do you feel about goulash, Sam?

I thought goulash was Hungarian.

Actually, the dish is eastern European.

It's got a lot of variations.

Essentially it's a stew.

But what they all have in common is noodles.

Thanks for the tip, Martha Stewart.

Now get me everything you have on the Bulgarian' connections to other crime organizations asap.

(Bulgarian folk music playing)

We're closed.

On a Tuesday afternoon? (Chuckles)

That's not a good sign.

I said we're closed.

Five employees, no customers?

This isn't gonna go down well when I write my Zagat review.

I work for Ramon Casador.

How does Ramon enjoy life in prison?

Well, it's not exactly his villa in Cartagena but I hear for the right price, the food's pretty decent.

Considering his holdings, I'm sure he eats very well.

He has a small problem that's affecting his digestion: Eugene Keelson.

(Quietly): Mr. Casador wants to know what kind of man he might be getting involved with.

He's heard rumors you had dealings with him.

I'll tell Mr. Casador that you're busy running your budding restaurant empire.

As far as information dealers go, Keelson's the best.

Anything you want, he can get it for you, for a price.

Anything.

And the price is high.

Any loyalties?

Only to the highest bidder.

He burned you.

Let's just say he's going to be the victim of an abrupt retirement in the very near future.

Mr. Casador will appreciate the info.

Okay, we're good.

(Ringing)

(Ringing continues)

Hello.

Hetty.

Mr. Callen, is this your third cell phone of the day?

I'm keeping receipts.

Oh, good.

I'll expect a detailed expense report for all of your necessities while on the road.

And I do mean necessities.

Well, I'll cancel my suite at the Chateau Marmont.

Uh-huh.

Did you find anything on the Bulgarians?

Eric: Hetty...

I just broke the encryption on the flash drive!

Callen: Hetty...

Uh, I have to go.

I got burned and I can't be involved in the case. I...

I get it, Hetty.

I do, too, Mr. Callen, more than you realize.

(Callen sighs)

What? What's the matter?

I have no idea if the drive is infected until I open it.

If you don't, we may not get our only clue in the case.

"Live dangerously" is my creed, Mr. Beal.

Go ahead. Go ahead and do it.

(Eric sighs)

(Taps key)

Harmless.

It's a single file containing a dossier and a travel itinerary.

Who's "Andres Werner"?

Eric: CEO of Haupt Eisen.

It's one of Germany's largest steel corporations.

Looks like he's in L. A.

Completing a corporate merger.

Marinov's a major shareholder.

We're talking millions.

Millions that'll drop like a rock if the merger goes through.

They're gonna hit him.

Callen gave Marinov the dossier.

He was coerced into doing so by Keelson, but we can't allow this man to be killed as a result.

Eric: Werner's plane touches down at lax in an hour.

(Man speaking German over radio)

(Tires squeal)

Man: Werner! Get out of the car!

Sam: Federal agents! Put the weapons down!

Kensi: Put the weapons down!

This is gonna be some nasty goulash.

Kensi: Renko?

You okay? Yeah!

(Tires squeal)

(Tires squeal)

Come on.

You good?

I'm good. I'm good.

Yeah, yeah. Yeah.

Kensi: I'm calling this in to the LAPD.

(Keypad beeping)

(Phone rings)

Mr. Hanna?

The decoy car worked.

Werner's safe.

Marinov hit us with his team.

Every one of them is down except for the man himself.

Backup getaway car picked him up.

Have Kensi get out an APB.

She's on it.

Are any of Marinov's men in a condition to talk?

They're not in a condition to breathe.

We protected Werner, but we're back at square one with Keelson.

Which unfortunately is nowhere.

Yeah.

What happened to protocol?

It went out the proverbial damn window.

I've been thinking a great deal about your situation.

Nate has misgivings about your state of mind.

He's gonna have to get in line.

During this crisis, he thought he should have a gun.

You didn't?

Perish the thought.

Walk with me.

This, um, Eugene Keelson is a clever fellow.

It's rare for us when we have an adversary who knows more about our operations than we do of him.

Despite Nate's misgivings, I think we need everyone's skills on board.

I'm not sure that's such a good idea.

I told myself making the Bulgarian deal might help shed some light on just how badly Keelson had compromised our team.

Is that why I did it?

Or was it just an excuse to find out about my past?

Oh, only you can answer that, Mr. Callen.

I can't.

Which is why Nate's right.

I should stay off this case.

(Phone ringing)

Yes?

Eric: Not good news, Hetty.

I've been tracking the damage that Keelson's virus did to our server.

Callen's file isn't the only one it got into.

Who else was compromised?

Everyone.

And everything.

Keelson's got information on every one of our cases.

I'm talking NCIS worldwide.

Thank you, Eric.

I'll be back with you shortly.

I appreciate your noble return to reason, Mr. Callen, but things have taken a turn.

The whole of NCIS has been compromised.

Like it or not, you are back in.

Callen, please tell me Hetty isn't gonna string me up for taking a call from a burned special agent.

You're good, Eric.

You should see our new digs.

They are much more intimate, albeit a tad shadowy, cavernous and slightly spooky.

Eric, I need you to bring our servers back online.

I want you to reactivate the computer virus that Keelson introduced to our system.

Are you serious?

Very.

You're asking me to commit technological malpractice.

Eric...

Here we go.

(Typing)

The virus is reactivated.

Our servers are exposed again.

(Alarm beeping)

I'm detecting a foreign code inside the firewall.

It's gotta be Keelson.

Open a new file.

Label it "Keelson, " put it somewhere he'll find it.

(Typing)

Done.

All right, now include the following message: "Call me. I want to cut a deal."

Anything else?

Give him my active phone number.

(Typing)

We're set.

Now can I ask why we're exposing ourselves to this guy?

We need to get to Keelson before he sells the NCIS case list on the black market.

This is the only way to lure him out.

(Phone beeps off)

Keelson likes money more than anything.

If we can offer him enough of it, he may just expose himself long enough for us to take him down.

And what if Keelson would rather die than face prosecution for his crimes?

The information he has about your past would likely disappear with him.

Are you ready to accept that, Mr. Callen?

(Phone rings)

This is Callen.

What you offering?

What, no small talk?

Why bother? You hate it.

Or did you forget that I know you better than you know yourself?

I can't let that case list get out into the open market.

Our offer is $10 million in untraceable U. S. currency.

The list would bring me more if I auctioned it myself.

The longer you hold on to it, the bigger risk you're taking.

You know that.

This is a guaranteed payday.

Griffith park observatory.

Be there with the money.

You've got one hour.

How will I find you?

I'll find you.

I can't authorize $10 million.

I wouldn't ask you to.

I'm in position. Kensi?

I've got eyes on Callen, but, so far, no one's making an approach.

Renko?

I got nothing.

This guy Keelson could be anyone.

He'll show up.

Eric?

Looks clear from here.

Wait a minute.

There's a guy in sunglasses approaching Callen from the south side of the area.

Eugene Keelson?

Guess some tips are legit after all, huh?

Everybody get down!

Get down! Get down!

Get out of the way! Get down!

Sam, that's him!

That's Keelson.

Eric, guy in the black jacket!

Turn over here.

Eric: I'm running facial rec, but it's gonna take a while bef...

How'd we get a match that fast?

Sam.

It's the driver who hit and killed the guy tailing Callen this morning!

Callen must've recognized him!

Who is he?

No name. No address.

I think we're looking at the only two images of this guy that exist.

Keelson!

You exposed yourself by coming here.

That's checkers, not chess.

Yeah, well, either you or Marinov was going to walk away.

That left me with one final loose end to snip.

You won't get that chance.

You know, these elements that play here, they're... they're way bigger than you and me.

You kill me, you'll never know the truth...

Who you really are.

Who hired me to find you.

Are you... are you ready to live the rest of your life wondering what that "G" stands for?

(Gunshots)

Eric?

Yeah?

Fire it up!

(Quietly): Whew.

(Sam and Kensi conversing intently)

Sam: Do you play backgammon? Poker?

It's game. They're all games.

Kensi: I'm telling you, I just...

Sam: Games.

Kensi: Hey...

Have you ever heard of "running game" on someone?

No.

But that jacket you're wearing...

Takes a unique kind of girl to pull that off.

(Chuckles)

Glad to see everything back up and running.

You can surf the Internet for your, uh, funny cat videos again.

(Laughs)

At least my web browsing doesn't require a full system purge at the end of the day.

I'm composing a letter to Elizabeth Macy.

Someone else looking for answers.

I'm sorry, Mr. Callen.

About what?

You didn't get the information you were hoping for.

Keelson found answers, I'll find them, too.

Someone hired him.

He's still out there.

And how do you feel about that?

I will be able to answer that question eventually.

When?

After I track them down.

Eric: Hey, guys?

What is it?

This case isn't over yet.

I just found a local address on Keelson.

Where?

Downtown.

Could be a safe house.

I checked out its electronic signature, looks like this place is filled with some heavy-duty data servers...

And I think we've got the key.

Data means answers.