02x03 - Borderline

[bunniefuu]

MAN (over radio): Tango One, this is Echo Six.

We're on the south ridge approaching checkpoint Delta. Over.

Copy that Echo Six.

Walker, pull up on the bluff ahead.

Oh, nicely done, Walker.

You hit every big rock for the last six miles.

Seriously, man. Who taught you how to drive?

Same person that taught me about sex...

Your mom.

Hastings, explain to this fool what happens when someone brings my mama into the conversation.

Hastings?

Shh. I saw something.

MINTOYA: Where? What is it?

WALKER: What are you seeing?

Bingo.

Got a bogey at 2:00 o'clock, maybe 50 meters out.

U. S. Marines!

Who goes there?!

We got a runner.

Hastings, Walker, cut him off with the Humvee!

Mintoya, with me!

(panting)

Move in, Mintoya.

On the Ridge.

Tango One, Echo Six in pursuit of a runner heading southeast of checkpoint Delta.

Roger that.

(expl*si*n, screaming)

Ambush! Ambush!

(groans) Reed! Reed! Hasting's down!

MAN: Tango One, Tango One, Tango 6 is taking fire from multiple sh**t, southeast of our position.

Humvee's been disabled by an IED.

(rapid g*nf*re)

Hastings!

Walker!

(sirens blaring)

♪ ♪

Deeks.

What are you doing?

Coming off a little LAPD undercover field trip.

How about a ride?

(sniffs)

Oh, my God. Is that you?

Well, I'm method when I go under.

That's disgusting.

That's really disgusting.

Listen, you can't be a convincing homeless person if you smell like you just stepped out of a spa, all right?

So I never wash these clothes.

I just keep 'em in my fridge so they keep their authenticity.

That's great.

I wouldn't let you ride in my trunk smelling like that.

No, no. No, no. Come on! Come on!

Bye, Deeks. Kensi!

Thanks, partner.

MAN: Here, buddy.

Oh, really? A quarter?

A quarter?!

(grunting)

Look, I'm all for going green, reducing our footprint.

If Hetty has her way, we're gonna be reusing our b*ll*ts.

She just wants us to recover our brass if possible.

Reusable water bottles, no more paper towels, no more paper cups.

What's next to go, huh?

(grunting)

We're saving the planet, G.

Come on.

Don't come whining to me when she replaces our toilet paper with used Post-its.

(chuckles) You hear me?

Yeah.

(g*nsh*t)

(g*nsh*t)

(g*nsh*t)

(g*nsh*t)

(g*nsh*t, Shell casing clinking)

(g*nshots, Shell casings clinking)

(g*nsh*t, Shell casing clinks)

He's back, and this time it's personal.

Now, what do you think Dr.

Freud would say about this, Sam?

Sam: Obvious phallic obsession and anger towards his mother.

Hmm. Just getting a little practice in.

Does this have anything to do with the assignment Hetty sent you on?

Doesn't everything we do eventually come back to Hetty?

Where you been? Hetty won't tell us a thing.

Well, if you want to grab a beer later, I'll tell you all about it.

I got to go check in with her.

It's good seeing you guys.

That was weird.

Even for Nate.

One thing's for certain.

Someone's been giving him sh**ting lessons.

I think there's something wrong with your hot water heater.

The, uh, showers are on timers, Mr. Deeks.

You obviously exceeded the recommended duration.

You might want to make an exception in his case.

Really needs it.

For your information, I won the hygiene award in High School.

What kind of school rewards you for bathing?

I don't know, man.

A sparkly clean one.

Ah, gentlemen.

Mm.

Eric.

This just in.

All of this footage was sh*t with helmet or dashboard-mounted cameras.

Four marines were ambushed.

HETTY: One escaped, three are still missing.

This doesn't look like Afghanistan.

It's not.

It was recorded just after sunrise outside of San Diego on the California/Mexican border.

The marines were assisting ICE and Customs and Border Patrol in securing the area.

Now, the fear is that the marines either stumbled across, or were specifically targeted by one of the Mexican cartels that use the area to smuggle people, g*ns, dr*gs.

Anyone claimed responsibility?

Not yet.

We don't even have a definitive motive.

I can think of a few.

Payback, leverage, prisoner exchange.

You said one of the marines escaped?

That would be Corporal Allen Reed.

Lance Corporal Edward Mintoya, Lance Corporal Shelly Hastings and PFC Liam Walker are still missing.

Since we have ongoing cases and intimate knowledge of the cartels, Director Vance has asked us to get involved and help to the best of our abilities.

Time is of the essence.

Mr. Callen.

CALLEN: Kensi, you and Deeks check out the crime scene, see what you can find out.

Sam and I will question the Marine that escaped.

We'll also hit our street contacts who have cartel connections.

See if we can find out who's behind this.

Uh, listen, uh, can we...?

Hold on a second here, guys. Here's the thing.

I'm more of a city mouse, yeah?

So maybe we should send the former Navy SEAL out into the desert with Kensi, yeah?

It'll be good experience for you, Deeks.

Right, yeah. No.

And I'm all for good experiences.

It's just that, I don't know if you've noticed this or not, but I've kind of got this ivory complexion?

Kind of fair-skinned, tend to...

Tend to burn kind of easily.

Whereas, you know, Sam here...

Well, Sam...

Well, I'm just saying that, you know, Sam is clearly better suited for a tropical climate.

Do tell.

Well, I mean, for starters, you got the whole bald head thing going on, which is... which is awesome.

And it's got to be better for... for, you know, heat exchange.

Um, and I don't want to have to overstate the obvious here, but you are African-American.

Yeah? And Africa is hot.

I'm from Brooklyn, Huckleberry.

Brooklyn.

Right.

And we're good.

We will call you guys if we find anything.

I just meant 'cause I'm...

No, you are done.

Norwegian-American.

One of these days, I'm gonna k*ll him.

Maybe he grows on you.

So does ringworm.

(garbled radio transmission)

(indistinct shouting)

They're over that way, ma'am.

Thanks.

(indistinct shouting)

KENSI: Major Orley?

Special Agent Kensi Blye, NCIS.

This is our LAPD Liaison Officer, Detective Marty Deeks.

What are we looking at here?

Looks like an ambush.

They were close when they hit him.

Where's the Marine who survived?

Corporal Reed.

Suffered some minor injuries, nothing serious.

He was patched up at the base hospital before heading to you for questioning.

Unfortunately, he doesn't remember much of anything.

The guy survived doesn't remember anything?

You ever been in a fire fight, Detective?

One or two.

You remember your first one?

MAN (over radio) Major, we got something.

We got one about half a click east of you, sir.

It's Corporal Mintoya.

Damn it.

"Ahora, Les traemos la Guerra."

"Now, to you we bring the w*r."

I've got my men working a hundred-yard swath with Border Patrol in both directions.

My guess is, the cartel's going to try to smuggle them into Mexico if they haven't already done so.

I'm not so sure, Major.

I found SUV tracks heading in the other direction.

I'm pretty sure they're heading away from Mexico.

If you'll excuse me.

Did I just get blown off?

Like Ronald McDonald at a PETA convention.

How certain are you about your tracks?

I'd bet your life on it.

Awesome.

Looks like somebody was being dragged, which seems to fit the scenario.

You ready to go for a little ride?

On the bikes.

Deeks, on the bikes.

I didn't say anything.

Eric, check the archives of satellite images for the ambush area.

Go back at least a month.

Whoever did this has been planning it for some time.

Have him check with the other agencies.

See if anybody's picked up any chatter that may relate to this.

They've already been contacted.

Call if you find anything.

Corporal Reed has been given a clean bill of health.

He's waiting for you at the boatshed with Nate.

Yeah, we ran into Nate at the sh**ting range.

He seemed kind of distant.

Probably just jet lag.

Yeah, we didn't realize that he had just gotten back from...

Oh, his assignment, yes.

Which was where again exactly?

He was in the People's Republic of none-of-your-damn-business.

CALLEN (laughing): Yeah.

Is that where he learned how to sh**t?

Actually, I gave him a few pointers.

Apparently The People's Republic of none-of-your-damn-business can be a dangerous place.

(engine starting)

(engines revving)

DEEKS: Why are we stopping?

I lost the trail.

We're lost?

Oh, relax, Nancy.

Oh, you know what?

I'm surprised you got us this far and I just want to say nice job, but if we head back now, we can b*at traffic.

Wha...?

Listen, we got to face the facts here.

We only have so much gas and water, and let's not forget this is the frigging desert.

Hey, Deeks, we're not in the middle of the Sahara, and even if we were, my dad taught me how to survive pretty much anywhere, including the desert.

Got 'em.

They're heading west.

See, SUV riding low with a chunk out of the rear right tire.

Wow, nice work, Tonto.

Your dad teach you how to track, too?

Track, sh**t, fix an engine, play poker, wire a house, basically anything you'd teach a son, only he didn't have a son, just me.

So you guys were close, then?

Very... best friends.

What about you and your dad?

Yeah, not so much.

In fact, I'm pretty sure he hates me.

Why would you say that?

Because the last time I saw him, he said, "Marty, I hate you."

Well...

Even people who love us say things in anger they don't really mean.

Uh-huh, then he fired a shotgun at me.

(chuckles)

Man, I hate Thanksgiving.

Although that was six years ago.

The miserable bastard could be dead by now.

I got to pee.

Again?

I hydrated for the desert, all right?

All this bouncing around is hard on my kidneys.

Hurry up, okay?

Don't peek.

No.

(unzips)

Oh!

(g*nsh*t) Deeks!

It's okay.

It was just a... was a rattlesnake.

He was getting ready to pounce.

Snakes don't pounce, they strike.

Uh-huh, this one looked like a pouncer.

Listen, I'm sorry about that, but when I was a little kid, my friend Darrel Donkins'

boa constrictor tried to strangle me to death at his eighth-grade birthday party.

Darrel's or the snake's?

See, you think it's funny, but it's not funny, all right?

Paramedics had to use the jaws of life to set me free.

Made the front page of the Encino Times.

My mom still has a copy laminated on the front of her fridge.

Deeks.

Yeah.

Your fly's open.

Son of a...

I shouted for the figure to show himself, but he took off running.

The next thing I know, we're taking fire from all directions.

(sighs)

I think the blast from the IED must have knocked me unconscious because I... I think I blacked out.

When I came to, the Humvee was destroyed and everybody was gone.

Not everyone.

Mintoya was found this morning.

He's dead, sir?

I'm afraid so.

Hastings and Walker...

Are still missing.

Did you find any of our attackers?

Not yet.

I swore I got one with a head sh*t, sir.

Mintoya was k*lled with a head sh*t.

You think I did this?

Did you?

Yes, sir.

I led them into the ambush.

I was in charge.

That makes me responsible, sir.

They should have took me instead of Hastings.

Nate: I know it's hard.

You have to find her.

Her?

Don't you mean "them"?

You're worried more about Hastings because she's a woman?

Hell, no, sir.

She's tougher than Walker and smarter, too.

I... I'd rather have her watch my six any day.

Then what?

Reed, they're in trouble...

Fellow marines, your buddies.

Anything you can tell us, no matter how seemingly insignificant, can help us.

Is there something else we should know about?

Hastings is pregnant.

She just found out this morning.

She didn't tell me until we were about to end our patrol.

No one else in the unit even knows.

Are you the father?

No, sir.

Mintoya was.

Two marines are missing, one of whom is supposedly pregnant, and the father of her unborn child is dead.

You think he's lying?

What's the more likely scenario: A Mexican drug cartel ambushes four marines, k*lling one and kidnapping the other two, or a love triangle between fellow marines leads to m*rder?

Nate: Where are the bodies?

He could have buried them.

Okay, if Reed did do this, why wouldn't he just sh**t Hastings and Walker and say they d*ed in the firefight?

Well, not being able to find the bodies lends credence to the kidnapping story and takes the suspicions off of Reed for being the lone survivor.

I don't know, he seems genuinely traumatized.

Like a guy who was in a firefight or a guy who just k*lled three fellow marines?

(phone ringing)

Kensi.

Find anything?

No, in fact, I'm not even sure we're still going in the right direction. You?

Nothing yet.(sighs)

We're going to go find our favorite snitch JJ, see what he knows.

Good luck with that.

How's Deeks?

Pees a lot.

(chuckles)

Let us know if you find anything.

Likewise. (phone beeps off)

CALLEN: What is the difference between a tar pit and quicksand?

Sam: I don't know, one's tar and the other one's sand?

Well, so how come you never hear about quicksand anymore?

What are you talking about?

It used to be everywhere.

Tarzan, Gilligan, I mean, even the Six Million Dollar Man used to get caught in it sooner or later.

Is this what you do at night?

While other people are sleeping, you're up thinking about quicksand?

Smoke weed, man?

Got three for $15.

Welcome to the tar pits, ladies and gentlemen.

Smoke weed, man?

Smoke weed?

Got three for $15.

For eight.

You smoke?

15 bucks.

Yo, JJ.

Don't run.

(JJ grunts)

(groans)

I clearly said don't run. He did.

I think I broke my back.

That's impossible...

You'd have to have a spine.

CALLEN: A Mexican drug cartel may have kidnapped some marines along the border.

What do you know about it?

Nothing.

I swear.

I'm legit now.

Mm-hmm.

Bet these medical marijuana cards aren't.

JJ, I need a name.

No?

Okay.

Throw him in the tar pit.

You wouldn't do that.

I wouldn't; he might.

In fact, he would.

Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.

I got a name.

Emilio Ortega.

Nice try.

Ortega and his bodyguard got blown up last week.

That's right, and when he got k*lled, everybody started scrambling to fill his spot.

Only one guy is coming out on top.

Torres.

Memo Torres?

No, Shecky Torres.

Of course, Memo Torres.

But you didn't hear it from me.

I catch you selling anything on the street but star maps, I'm not even calling LAPD.

I will run you over with my car.

You understand?

Yeah.

Get the hell out of here.

Okay, okay, man.

Move it. Okay, I'm moving, I'm moving.

What the hell is Memo Torres doing kidnapping marines?

Maybe he's flexing his muscles, show the other cartels how badass he is.

Wish there was another way to do this.

You and me both.

HETTY: Nate, I read your report on Corporal Reed.

How is he doing?

He's afraid.

For his fellow marines?

And for himself.

I don't follow.

There are worse things than death for a marine.

So he's questioning his actions.

I suppose we all must from time to time.

People worry too much about making the wrong choices when what they should really worry about is not making any.

You could at least try to be a little more subtle, Hetty.

I am a psychologist, remember?

Yes, and a good one at that.

Is patronizing me part of your plan, too?

Is that what you think?

You can't answer my question with a question.

According to whose rules?

That's another question.

More a query for clarification, don't you think?

That's still a question.

Clearly you need more time.

Yes.

Yes, you need more time?

No.

Yes, I want to go back.

That's not a decision to be made lightly.

Have you told the others?

No, and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything until I had a chance to speak with them myself.

What are you doing?

I need to activate a former alias.

Oh, no. "N. L. V."

"N. L. V." No longer viable.

Tyrell Ellis was compromised.

I know.

I was Tyrell Ellis, remember?

I do remember.

I also remember you were nearly k*lled before we got you out.

My cover was never blown.

I spent seven months undercover working Memo Torres while he was still a cartel underling.

Now he's the man.

That means he's the fastest route to finding those missing marines.

And the only one who can get to Torres right now is in this box.

The man in this box has a price on his head.

Why don't you just arrest Torres?

We don't have anything on him.

We yank him in off the street, we blow any chance of ever going back under in this organization.

Plus, Memo hates cops of any kind.

He'll be lawyered up as soon as we bring him in, and we may never find those missing marines, Hetty.

Oh, Mr. Callen, could you please talk some sense to your partner?

I don't think that's ever worked.

Admittedly, putting Sam on the streets as Tyrell Ellis is...

Not without risks.

Memo Torres is behind this.

Reactivating Tyrell Ellis is the only way to find him.

It's our only bet, Hetty, and you know it.

I don't like it.

(telephoto lens clicking )

(camera snapping)

You're gonna play this one cool, right?

Yup.

(indistinct chatter)

(telephoto lens clicking )

What's the safe word?

"Headlock."

Really?

How do you use "headlock" in a sentence?

I wasn't planning on using it.

(telephoto lens clicking)

(car engine starting)

(speed-dials)

(line ringing)

Yo?

Eric?

Yeah?

I'm sending some photos over to you.

I need you to identify the players.

Hey, also check the cameras in the area.

I want to know who's been coming out of here the last two months.

You got it, G. I'm on it.

Thanks.

♪ ♪

(entry bell chimes)

(clears throat)

Tyrell Ellis.

Rumor is, you're the big boss now that Emilio Ortega got himself blown up.

Yeah? I heard another rumor.

Yeah?

You ratted out Lil Deon.

Now he's somebody's girl up in Chino.

You heard wrong.

About me. Wouldn't surprise me with Deon.

I'm just happy to hear he's in a steady relationship.

How is it that you managed to vanish right before your boss got pinched?

I'm good like that.

Tyrell Ellis.

I'm a survivor, baby.

I moved my operation to Florida.

I didn't hear that.

You wasn't supposed to.

You should have stayed down there, "survivor." (scoffs)

(locking)

I'm not here by choice.

Miami makes L. A. Look like a trailer park.

Unfortunately, you and I got personal business.

The only business I got with you is deciding where I'm going to bury you.

Look, why don't you save the tough guy routine, Memo?

When you was dealing dime bags to school kids, I was putting members of my new crew in key positions with ICE, Border Patrol, even the m*llitary.

I was this close to establishing a safe and permanent trade corridor until you screwed it up by kidnapping a bunch of marines.

I don't know what the hell you're talking about.

(cell phone rings)

Hetty?

Director Vance would appreciate an update.

He'd appreciate an update, or he asked for an update?

Oh, Mr. Callen, just tell me what the hell is going on.

Sam's still talking to his former contact.

Well, the fact that I haven't heard anything on the police scanner indicates he's still alive.

Relax.

We're all good, Hetty.

Sam knows he has to play this one extra cool.

(man groans in pain)

Uh, here he comes. I'll call you right back.

Mr. Callen?

(dial tone hums)

(sighs)

Now, would that be considered a headlock?

Don't even.

You and I have a very different idea of what "playing it cool" means.

(engines roaring)

(groans)

We should be coming to an old fire road.

They can follow the 79 and continue north or they can take the 78 and head into Arizona.

Where are they going?

I don't know, but I hope to hell it's got air-conditioning.

Oh, I can't believe people do this for fun.

You look rugged, Deeks.

Wouldn't make you for a four-star hotel camper. Yeah.

My idea of roughing it is being at a pool without a cabana.

Why, you think I look rugged?

Yeah.

Like Malibu Ken.

He's not anatomically correct, either.

(chuckling): Jeez.

(engines starting)

(chuckling): Oh...

Awesome.

Naval Criminal what?

Naval Criminal Investigative Service.

(laughing)

I'm not in the Navy, stupid.

So you got to let me go.

Our mistake.

Sit down!

Stupid.

I want my lawyer.

I know my Miranda rights.

Miranda?

Who's Miranda?

Sam, you know any Miranda?

I know a Melinda in Accounting.

Red head, freckles...

Stop jerking me around.

Oh, I'm not jerking you around.

You familiar with the Patriot Act?

Of course you're not.

Here's the thing.

What you did was not only m*rder, attempted m*rder, and kidnapping...

But because it was against marines on active duty...

That's domestic terrorism.

Oops.

I didn't do anything.

I'm a businessman.

I sell rims.

How are you at making license plates?

Hey, guys.

Wh... what about my phone call?

What about my call?

Only thing they found in Memo's shop was a couple of unregistered handguns and some cash.

No dr*gs, no contraband.

We've got nothing.

Except for the little incident where he tried to k*ll me.

Not to mention how much he's overcharging for rims.

Eric's still sifting through the surveillance footage.

These are all the usual suspects, save for this one.

Donald Wexling of Wexling-Goring.

He's a multimillion-dollar textile manufacturer.

What the hell does he want with Memo?

Maybe he was getting spinners for the limo.

Maybe he's got a nasty drug habit.

And Wexling is a patron of the arts.

He sits on a number of boards.

His wife is heavily involved in the charities.

Last thing he's going to want is a very public drug conviction.

My bet is that if you lean on Wexling, he'll give up Memo to keep this on the down low.

Don't say "down low."

So once we have something solid on Memo, we'll Twist him for info on the marines.

Have Eric find anything he can on Wexling.

Addresses, bank accounts, boxers or briefs.

(engines roaring)

(speed-dials)

Eric?

I think we've got something.

Sam: There's our guy.

Mr. Wexling?

Federal agents. We'd like to ask you a few questions.

What sort of questions?

Questions about your relationship with Guillermo Torres.

You know he's a drug dealer with ties to the Mexican cartels?

Of course.

You do?

If Memo didn't have connections with the cartels, I wouldn't be dealing with him, trust me.

But I have textile manufacturing and administrative facilities in Mexico.

And I need to keep my people and my assets safe.

You're paying him extortion money?

We call it "foreign business dues, " but yes.

Memo handles my protection funds which prevent my employees from being kidnapped and my factories from being b*rned to the ground.

Do you realize when a man of your stature pays Torres, you're essentially sanctioning racketeering.

Payoff money is the cost of doing business South of the border or anywhere else, for that matter, this country included.

Hell, our own government pays off foreign diplomats.

I'm sure the government will be interested in hearing about your relationship with Memo Torres.

You mean my "Mexican Security Advisor?"

Gentlemen, I didn't build a multimillion-dollar business by making stupid mistakes.

And if you and the other agencies weren't losing the drug w*r, I wouldn't have to pay off the damn cartels.

So instead of hassling me, maybe you two should be doing something worthwhile.

If you'll excuse me...

Oh, and if you have any other questions, you can ask them through my attorneys.

Hmm.

Well, nice enough guy.

(cell phone rings)

(phone beeps on)

Yeah?

Kensi and Deeks have found something about 35 miles from the Mexican border.

CALLEN: Patch us through.

We're going to move in for a closer look. No. Kensi.

We got them.

They're both injured.

CALLEN: How many sh**t, Kensi?

I see three.

They're taking them to the truck.

Okay.

Eric, we got to get out of here.

They're moving them out.

(phone beeps off)

Eric, I need a lift out of here now.

Yeah. I'm on it.

MAN: Come on. Move it.

(dirt bike engine revving)

You hear that, Quinn?

Thompson, get them out of here!

Evans, with me!

(engine revving)

[ engineer laughs ] Can't this thing go any faster?

I should have let you drive.

In the truck, move.

(both grunt)

HASTINGS: Who are you?

NCIS. You guys okay?

Yeah. I'm okay.

KENSI: Someone's coming.

Come on, move, move, move, move, move.

Come on, Walker, get down there.

Deeks.

(whispering): Deeks.

MAN (over radio): We've got a problem.

What kind of problem?

Thompson's down, the hostages have escaped.

Go find them.

Make sure he's dead.

(groans)

Quinn: What the hell happened?

Thompson: I got jumped from behind.

Someone's helping them.

Well, they couldn't have gotten far.

Spread out, find them.

DEEKS: Behind you!

Did you miss me?

Where have you been?

They k*lled my bike.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, save your a*mo.

Marine.

Eric, they got us pinned down.

Copy that.

Help is on the way.

How you doing, Marine?

I'm fine, ma'am.

He needs a doctor.

What happened to Mintoya and Reed?

Reed got away.

I'm afraid Mintoya is dead.

I'm really sorry.

(b*ll*ts whoosh and ricochet)

Any idea on how to get us out of here, Tonto?

I'm thinking, I'm thinking.

Why do I keep seeing the ending of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?

Screw this.

I'm gonna light these bastards up.

Lieutenant, how much longer?

PILOT: We should have a visual in ten Mikes, sir.

They may not have ten minutes.

What do you think they're waiting for?

I don't know. (grunts)

(gasps)

They have a grenade launcher.

What, they have a grenade launcher?

That's so much worse than the ending of Butch and Sundance.

That SUV might be our only chance.

What if there's no keys in it?

We hotwire it.

Oh, come on, please don't tell me you can't hotwire a car.

I'm a cop, all right? We stop people from doing that.

What? I'm sorry if my father didn't spend the weekends teaching me how to be Jason Bourne.

All right, you know what?

I'll draw their fire, you make a run for the SUV.

Okay.

Marines, you ready?

Oorah, ma'am.

Oorah.

(Kensi panting, g*nf*re continues)

Deeks.

(g*nf*re)

(helicopter blades whirring)

Go, move!

(indistinct shouting)

You okay?

Walker: Oorah, sir.

Kensi.

I'm good.

Sam.

We're good!

(indistinct shouting)

I'm good, too, just in case anybody cares.

MARINE: Call it, we're clear!

(indistinct shouting)

(garbled radio transmission)

Easy.

Well done, Marine.

Thank you, sir.

These guys look like cartel members to you?

They look like mercs.

Check the last number dialed.

Donald Wexling.

Who's Donald Wexling?

He's the man that paid for all this.

What's that?

Why am I even here?

That's a satellite phone with several saved messages from you.

Found it on one of your mercenaries that you hired to kidnap the marines.

I would like my attorney to be present.

Sam: Just one?

You're going to need a whole team.

We've got proof you paid to have U. S. Marines kidnapped and k*lled.

So what was the plan, Mr. Wexling?

Suck the U. S. m*llitary into a w*r with a Mexican drug cartel just to try and solve your business problems South of the border?

We go into Afghanistan, we go into Iraq to weed out t*rrorists, and yet we let them run rampant in our own backyard.

Explain that to me.

We're not political analysts, Mr. Wexling.

We just arrest the bad guys.

I think that is everything. Oh.

What's in the box?

Junk mostly.

My coffee mugs, some books.

Perhaps you should leave them with me.

I can take care of it until you return.

The others will be back soon.

I still got some packing to do, some things to square away at my apartment.

Besides, it's not like I'm never going to see them again, right?

This is my chance to make a real difference and do my part over there.

I just want to thank you...

For all the opportunities you've given me and all the things you've taught me.

Aah!

You're an important part of this team and you always will be.

Take care of yourself.

Trust your instincts...

They've brought you this far.

Keep your wits sharp, your heart open, and your g*n loaded.

I will.

Good-bye, Hetty.

Until the next time, Mr. Getz.

CALLEN: Used to know this guy named Shaba.

He's got a food truck in Zarnegar Park across from the tomb of 'Abdorrahman Khan.

The kebabs suck, but Shaba can get you just about anything you need.

Just tell him you're a friend of Yurik.

Yurik?

It sounded cool at the time.