02x06 - Standoff

[bunniefuu]

(low, indistinct conversations)

Excuse me...

Hey!

(woman muttering)

(whispered muttering)

(muttering) Left...

(mutters)

(crowd screaming)

Back inside! Go!

Go! Go!

Everybody, on the floor!

Don't be a hero.

NCIS: LA 2x06

Standoff
Original air date on October 19, 2010

Watch me close. Watch me close.

Choose the two or the three, you lose.

Choose the queen, win some green.

All right, fifth time's a charm.

Ah, man.

Sorry, son, you picked the wrong one.

Hey, Dr. Seuss, keep it down.

What? The kid is nice.

The kid is corny.

Deeks is flimflamming the support staff.

No, no. What I found was an entry point to a drug ring through a low-level thug with a gambling problem.

And what I'm doing...

Sharpening my skill set.

Set the trap.

'Cause you got to captivate the mark's eyes and ears with what you're doing with your mouth, but also with your hands.

Captivate, not irritate.

I'm game.

Oh.

Money on the wood makes the bet go good.

Money out of sight, take a hike.

This I gotta see.

Uncle Marty throws 'em fast.

Uncle Marty here to last.

Uncle Marty?

Beyond creepy.

What you got?

Okay. Okay.

Beginner's luck.

That's fine.

You know, I'm feeling lucky.

Double or nothing.

Doub... double...

Double or...

You want to...

All right.

Let's do it.

Okay, no, no, no, no.

I'll... I want in on this.

Let's see. We have one, two...

You know what?

Just... all in.

You're going to...

You want to bet all that?

Because that's a lot of 20s.

All right. Okay.

You know what? Let's do it.

Ho!

Comin' at you hard, and I'm comin' at you fast.

Uncle Marty bringing the hurt.

Uncle Marty 'bout to take your shirt.

(claps hands)

What you got? Hmm?

You sure?

Oh, yes!

Oh, yes, it is.

Thank you.

Who is the loser?

Who is the loser?

But didn't...

I threw it to the...

Are you the loser?

How did you not know that it...

You may want to try hustling upstairs instead of each other.

There's a situation downtown.

And I don't appreciate you coercing Ms. Jones into your shenanigans.

X-ray was her idea.

Uh-huh.

Oh...

All right, all right, yeah.

Yeah, joke's over.

I need the money back, 'cause obviously, everybody's in on this but me, which makes it super... not-awesome.

(blows)

The kid is nice indeed.

What are we looking at, Eric?

Looks like a protest situation at a Navy recruitment center downtown.

Human barricade.

Protest just turned into a hostage situation.

Well, here come the sharks.

Downtown hostage, and in fact, I think that we see the SWAT team is now just getting into position.

What do we know about the guy who took the hostages?

Not a guy.

A woman.

You know her?

You could say that.

The woman has just been identified as a Tracy Keller, a Valley Village soccer mom.

The number of hostages is still unclear.

Well, this is weird.

According to the m*llitary database, there's no Tracy Keller listed as next of kin.

That's because the name's an alias.

An alias for who?

My ex-wife.

We were in the CIA.

We went undercover as husband and wife.

Anything we should know?

She's smart.

Not just good grades.

I mean, other level intelligence.

IQ's over 140.

Mmm, not that smart.

She must have missed the sn*per awareness course.

Yeah, Nell's right.

She's putting herself at risk of a sn*per's b*llet with all that window gawking.

Almost like she's posing for the cameras.

She seems way too hot for you.

What? I'm...

I'm just saying.

You keep in touch?

No.

She retired last I heard.

That was five years ago.

Undercover agents don't retire.

They just go deeper.

You guys ever consider putting a bell around her neck?

Many people have tried, Mr. Deeks.

How does she hear that?

Shh.

The question is, if she retired five years ago, why is she using her old alias?

Because that's a Navy recruitment center, and somehow she's figured out I'm NCIS.

She's trying to contact me.

Or she's taken a recruitment center hostage.

No.

"Tracy Keller" was her alias only when we went undercover.

(helicopter passing overhead)

She looks like she's running away from home.

You got this?

I'm good.

Don't take candy from any strangers.

So, Tracy Keller.

What's her real name?

I only knew her as Tracy.

What happened between you two?

Long story.

Give me the short version.

If she wasn't central to this case, I'd let it go, but since she is, if there's something I need to know...

Let's just say she's the kind of person that chooses the mission over her partner.

All right, well, let me get the lay of the land, see what I can dig up.

Maybe "Uncle Marty" can hustle LAPD into letting us take over.

I'll take Kensi.

Okay, cool, but I just need to get some of that money back that I...

Never going to happen.

(Kensi laughing)

What do you want, Deeks?

I'm busy with a situation here.

This is Agent Callen, NCIS.

My men are already in position.

I may have some inside information on the suspect.

At least let me make first contact.

She's not communicating.

As soon as I get the orders, we're going to breach.

You got ten minutes.

If you're still in there when we breach, I'm not responsible.

Done.

I owe you.

Yep.

What did you say to him?

Ah, there's this little rule about not dating the captain's daughter.

He broke it.

All over the captain's desk.

Hey.

Hey.

Tough perimeter to enforce.

Plenty of holes if we want to get in.

No need.

Deeks came through.

The kid is nice.

Condescension noted.

It's for her protection, not mine.

I'm still upset over her getting the dog in the settlement.

What's the distress word?

Buddy.

I always loved that dog.

You ready, Eric?

Ready. Nell?

I'm good.

Here we go. Three...

Two...

One.

What?!

We, uh...

Wait, we lost signal.

We're down, you guys.

You got 30 seconds till they're back online again.

Camera phones in the crowd?

Too far away for anyone to get a high-res image.

Well done, Mr. Beal.

You, too, Ms. Jones.

(door opens)

(g*n cocks)

Still fashionably late, I see.

Hello, Tracy.

Callen.

You look good.

Yeah, having a shotgun pointed at me tends to bring out my natural glow.

Sorry.

Had to make sure.

I haven't seen you since...

Uzbekistan.

Heard you retired.

Sort of.

Did a stint with the Bureau.

Now I'm in the private sector.

So, all this to get my attention.

Why didn't you just call, text?

Oh, texting is so last week.

And hostage situations are all the rage?

Given my current situation, it was the only way I knew how to contact you.

What situation?

Whatever happened to us? Huh?

We used to be great together.

My meticulous planning, paired with your gift of improvisation.

We were unbeatable.

I absolutely agree.

We were great, until you hung me out to dry.

You never let me explain.

Explain what?

It was a crappy thing to do to your partner.

To me.

I don't quite remember it that way.

But regardless...

I need your help.

Whenever you're ready.

You have to know, I didn't have a choice.

They're hunting me.

Who?

The United Brotherhood Party.

They chased me in here.

The white supremacists?

I'm gonna need your earwig and your cell phone.

Don't do it, G.

(static crackling)

Kensi, Deeks, we're blind.

Setting up the laser mic now.

Just so you know, my boss is going to bill you for that.

I was working undercover, trying to recoup a shipment of stolen Spike missiles from the Brotherhood.

The plan went awry, and now they're trying to k*ll me.

Undercover for who?

Like I said, private sector.

So why don't you just call your people, have them bring you in from the cold.

Because right now, I'm not sure who I can trust.

And you think you can trust me?

I could always trust you, Callen.

Yeah.

That's me.

Trustworthy.

I'm sorry I can't say the same.

Gonna need something a little more tangible.

There's a warehouse...

Fourth and Hill.

Dead Brotherhood member sh*t twice in the chest.

That should be tangible enough, huh?

(phone ringing)

Go.

Sam, there's a body.

Fourth and Hill.

Kensi and Deeks are on the way.

G...

You trust her?

Not sure.

What happened at the warehouse?

I was following up a lead.

Next thing I knew, b*ll*ts were flying.

Had to sh**t my way out.

Used to be a better sh*t.

Back in the day, they'd all be dead.

Back in the day, I used to have a partner I could depend on to have my back.

So, uh, how far do you think Callen and this Tracy lady took their whole "pretending to be married" thing?

I don't know, use your imagination.

On second thought, don't.

Mm... too late.

Wait, so just out of curiosity...

What happened to your last partner?

He met an unfortunate end.

Sorry to hear that.

Go.

How many partners have you had?

Why?

You know, just wondering.

Just wondering if you're, like, the Elizabeth Taylor of partners.

Deeks...

What?

Focus.

Well, I'm trying.

I just think I have the right to know if you got, like, partner poison or something, right?

I mean, do they call you "Kiss of Death Kensi" or "Bad-Luck Blye" or... I don't know...

"The Widow Maker"?

Dead guy, Deeks.

See, that's-that's not funny.

Not you, you idiot.

Oh. Hey.

Yeah, dead guy.

Well-dressed dead guy.

Reminds me more of the guy that denied me a jet-ski loan than a white supremacist.

That's because he's not.

He's FBI.

(phone ringing, helicopter hovering outside)

Yeah.

Callen, we've got a body here.

Took two center-mass, but he's not a member of the Brotherhood.

He's FBI.

Special Agent Rick Timmons.

Okay, thanks.

They find the body?

Just like you said.

Except he wasn't a white supremacist, he was FBI.

Agent Rick Timmons.

Tell me you didn't know he was FBI.

I didn't know.

Not for sure.

If you want my help, I need the truth! Now!

Three weeks ago, my ex-partner at the FBI was k*lled in a sh**t-out while investigating the Brotherhood.

And now the Bureau says they don't have enough evidence to charge anyone.

What, so you're doing your own private sector investigation?

We were partners.

Just partners?

It's been a long time since I let anyone get that close.

Why, you don't believe me?

I saw the surveillance footage.

You weren't followed.

You don't know that for sure.

You have to help me get out of here.

I can take you to our safe house.

Discuss your options.

No, no, that won't work.

They'll find me there.

That's the deal, take it or leave it.

Guess I'll leave it.

I guess I can't help you.

(racks g*n)

If I step foot outside, they'll k*ll me.

Please, Callen.

Okay.

I'll stay.

Let the hostages go.

Got the floor plans, Eric. Thanks.

You NCIS?

Agent John White, FBI.

Sam Hanna. FBI taking over?

No, it's a federal building, but LAPD is already in place.

We don't want to open any windows during the transition.

I've got a man in there.

Yeah, you want to tell me how?

Our guy worked with her once.

You missing any of your agents?

As a matter of fact...

Found a body four blocks from here with FBI credentials.

That's Agent Timmons.

His wife just had a kid.

Woman inside says she sh*t him in self-defense.

Want to tell me what this is about?

Real name's Tracy Rosetti.

Former FBI.

We're pretty sure she's connected with an arms dealer on the watch list...

James Thomas Mason.

This is a delicate situation, Agent Hanna.

We can't afford to screw it up.

(crowd cheering)

My guy managed the release of the hostages.

Take that kind of screwup any day.

I'm going to suggest we breach.

I'll give you a heads up so you can get your man out.

Appreciate it.

Who's the suit?

FBI.

G's running out of time.

That was awesome.

I wasn't even sure it would work.

We make a good team.

You two can rest on your laurels later.

What have you got on the arms dealer... Mason?

James Thomas Mason, international arms dealer.

Suspected involvement in the Tuareg rebellion in '07, Andean diplomatic crisis in '08, and for arming both sides of the Mexican drug w*r.

Looks like he entered the country three days ago, but Homeland lost his tail shortly after.

Well, assist Homeland in finding him.

I'm on it.

What did you find on the Spike missiles?

Mason is rumored to be responsible for a shipment of Spike missiles that were h*jacked from China Lake.

It's the smallest guided m*ssile in the world, but it packs a big punch.

Easy to deploy and versatile.

A gunner at a remote location can switch targets or abort an att*ck while the m*ssile is in flight.

Each m*ssile uses a computer-coded SIM card to program targeting, making the missiles accurate to within inches.

In the wrong hands...

Callen and Sam getting this information?

Streaming live to their smartphones.

There's an LAPD SWAT team out there ready to take you out.

Can't be worse than what's already out there.

What are they waiting for?

Me.

I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, for now.

Just like old times, huh?

Me, you and...

What was the name of that mangy old dog you loved so much?

(gasps, g*nsh*t)

Kensi, Deeks, sh**t on the roof opposite!

Take the front!

(auto-dial beeping)

Eric, I need a back door out of here fast.

Buddy.

His name was Buddy.

Uh, FYI, SWAT is breaching.

Callen?

Got it.

We gotta move.

Fast.

(g*nsh*t)

Federal agent!

(g*nsh*t)

He's LAPD.

You k*lled a cop!

Back up!

Back up!

Back up, guys! Back up!

Take it easy...

Take it easy, guys!

Guys, calm down.

Settle down.

Screw you, Deeks.

Your buddy sh*t one of ours.

I did not sh**t this guy.

Are we good?

I'm good. They're the ones with the problem.

Powder burns.

Come here.

Tissue damage from perforations of unburned grains of gunpowder.

This guy was sh*t at close range.

I was at least 50 meters when I took the sh*t.

Took the sh*t from there.

I missed.

The sh**t got away.

I didn't sh**t your man, guys.

Target not acquired.

There's no one in there, sir.

What do you mean, no one's in there?

She's gone, sir.

Thought your guy was good.

I never said that.

He thinks he's good.

He's really not.

As soon as you hear from him, call me.

If he's still alive.

Will do.

Nice move.

You run into any resistance?

Just from her.

A little reluctant to give up her weapons.

You sure know how to pick 'em.

She was right about one thing.

Somebody wants to take her out.

How do you want to handle it?

Like a hostile divorce hearing.

Last chance.

You either tell us everything or we turn you over to the FBI.

I already told you everything.

I want my stuff back.

You know, for a person with such a high IQ, you're not being very smart.

Have it your way.

Sam, call Agent White.

Tell him where he can find her.

Wait.

The FBI was running an undercover sting based on a tip that they received.

But it was bigger than anyone realized.

The Brotherhood was trying to buy a shipment of stolen Spike missiles from an arms dealer.

James Thomas Mason.

Mason acquired the Spikes, but he didn't have the computer-coded SIM cards needed to activate them.

Without the SIM cards, the Spikes are useless.

With them, they're worth millions.

The agents running the sting pulled some strings to get the missing SIM cards.

Plan was to sell them to Mason and retire with the money.

How many agents we talking about?

At least three.

And you know this how, Tracy?

You know me.

I will stay here all night.

One of the agents was Walter Stone.

My ex-partner.

He engineered the whole thing.

Why didn't you tell us this...

Hence the ten-year rule.

Hmm?

You should always know your partner for at least ten years prior to marrying them.

You date me for a decade, you deserve my hand in marriage.

That sounds so much more like a punishment than a reward.

Did it just slip your mind to mention that your FBI boyfriend was involved in an illegal arms deal?

Hey, I was trying to figure things out.

I know how this looks.

I just needed time to think.

Where are the SIM cards now?

Walter had them.

I found them in a warehouse they were using as a meeting place.

As I was leaving, I was att*cked and I had to sh**t my way out.

I didn't know who to trust, so I turned to you.

Need the names.

All night, Tracy.

Agent John White.

He was the one who shut down the investigation into Walter's death.

You got proof?

(wry laugh)

My word isn't good enough for you?

White needs the SIM cards to complete the arms deal.

Where are they, Tracy?

They're in a safe place.

They're the last bargaining chip I have, Callen.

If White needs the SIM cards to complete the deal, why try to k*ll the one person who knows where they are?

Assuming she's telling the truth, White either found the SIM cards, or he panicked and tried to take her out before she started talking.

Hey, you guys got a moment?

Little busy, Eric.

You're gonna want to see this.

I grabbed the security footage off...

A database that you guys are better off not knowing about.

It's taken from the roof opposite the recruitment center.

That's the LAPD sn*per.

It's Agent White.

She was telling the truth.

That'd be a first.

Guys, hang on.

White doesn't know we're on to him.

Need to draw him out.

The code cards get us White.

White get us Mason, the arms dealer.

Mason gets us the missiles.

(door opens)

Let's say we buy your story.

You have proof.

Surveillance cameras.

You're going to contact White.

Tell him you have the code cards and you want to make a deal.

Convince him you gave us the slip.

Done.

And then you're going to tell us where the cards really are.

♪ I've been lonely♪

(over radio):? For such a long, long time?

♪ Tryin' to find someone♪
♪ To call my own♪
♪ Someone with sweet love and affection♪
♪ To give my heart...♪

What is she singing?

Our wedding song.

Lee Williams and the Cymbals.

You got married to Lee Williams and the Cymbals?

Hey, it was a fake wedding, okay?

Getting pretty sunny out here.

You want me to, uh...?

You can't put any sunscreen on me.

How did you...?

Guys, heads up.

Here comes White.

Keep your hands where I can see 'em.

You miked?

No.

Wow.

I usually only get to frisk, like, meth heads and dirty hookers.

I've been going over this whole thing in my head.

Get in the water.

Now!

(static crackling)

There goes her mic.

Yeah, but her hotness meter just went up, like, a bajillion points.

Do we have a laser mic?

It wouldn't work.

Too much distortion from the crashing waves.

Kensi, can you read 'em?

I lost the visual.

I'm moving in.

You and Timmons k*lled Walter so you could keep the money.

It's an interesting theory.

Actually, Timmons was next.

You took care of that for me.

It's too bad Walter never told you where we were meeting Mason.

You could have retired in comfort.

Where are the damn codes?

Federal agent!

No!

What the hell, Tracy?

He k*lled an FBI agent and a cop.

World's a better place.

I disarmed him.

There was no thr*at.

Walter said he always carried a backup in an ankle holster.

You can believe what you want, but he was going for that g*n.

You're wrong.

With White dead, there goes our meeting with the arms dealer.

Maybe not.

Here.

San Pedro, container yard, 3:00.

We've got an hour if you want to recover those missiles before they figure out how to use them on some federal building.

We better hurry.

Now that's the man I married.

What do you have in mind?

We go in as Walter and Tracy.

How do we know Mason hasn't already seen these guys?

Walter said Mason was unpredictable.

He didn't trust anyone.

Identity was a concern, so they handled all communication electronically.

It's a risk we're going to have to take.

Works for me.

Not you.

Just like old times.

The service road from the south is the likeliest entry point.

It runs parallel through the entire property.

Okay. Fanning out from the east is gonna give us the best sh*t to cover the yard.

Hmm. It's a maze.

A lot of pockets to cover, but it's possible.

It's fully operational.

Testing.

Testing.

Care to help a girl out?

(door opens, closes)

The coded SIM cards to arm the missiles were where Tracy said they would be.

Impressive.

Now we just have to keep them out of Mason's hands.

Can I talk to you for a second?

Is he gonna be okay?

You worry about Deeks.

G's cool.

What?

I'm cool, too.

I appreciate you trusting me back there.

That's what partners do.

I never stopped caring.

I tried to reach you.

You never let me explain.

You made it pretty clear where your head and your heart were at.

I was young...

Ambitious.

I made a mistake.

One that I regret.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Remember when we used to talk about getting away from it all?

Just you and me on some remote island...

Buddy hated the beach.

Mason knows his stuff...

Restricted airspace, no surveillance...

It's a virtual blind spot.

Be sure to have some heavy-duty muscle backing him up.

He'll want to verify the codes work.

Which means the missiles will probably be someplace close.

Nobody makes a move until we've confirmed he's got them.

We good?

Let's go, Tracy.

How we looking, Sam?

Lot of blind spots.

Gonna have to reposition to get a line of sight.

Kensi, Deeks, see if you can get a bead on those Spike missiles.

Roger that.

Heads up. We have company.

Expecting trouble?

You're the one who brought the backup.

Yeah, well, you never know who you can trust these days.

Still, it never ceases to amaze me that when meeting an arms dealer, people invariably bring arms.

James Thomas Mason.

Agent White not joining us, then?

He's tying up a few loose ends at the Bureau.

We have the SIM cards.

Down to business.

I like that.

May I?

I'd like to, uh...

Kick the tires, so to speak, if you don't mind.

Be my guest.

Cheers.

(w*apon system trills, beeps)

The money transfer?

Easy.

A bunch of blinking lights doesn't mean this thing actually works.

Give me a minute to find out.

Nice coveralls.

Psst.

Yo, Johnny!

I gotta show you this card trick that Charlie just showed me.

Ain't no Johnny here, man.

Ah, he's supposed to be here.

Anyway, I'll show you anyway, 'cause it's amazing.

Federal agent.

Shut it down.

Shut it down.

Put your hands behind your head.

Sam, we've got the missiles.

Okay, Kensi, stand by.

I want to give this a real test.

(beeping)

(chuckles)

(rapid beeping)

Sam, what's going on?

I'm okay. Hold your position.

(laughing)

You see that?

The container on either side are barely charred.

The target's vaporized.

You happy?

Would you like to do another million-dollar test?

Quite happy.

I do hope Agent White is able to tie up his loose ends.

Here you go.

Money transferred to the agreed account.

Pleasure doing business with you.

Likewise.

You two make a cute couple.

Oh, uh... let's just try one more, shall we?

I switched out the SIM card for fake ones.

Oh, dear.

There seems to be a malfunction.

I'm disappointed.

Federal agent!

Federal agent!

Stop the car!

Tires or driver?

Tires.

Out of the car!

Put your hands behind your back!

(handcuffs clicking)

So, what happens now?

We try and recover the money.

Offshore account.

Good luck with that.

You have to let me walk away.

You know I can't do that.

Come on.

You got the missiles.

I got closure.

Not a bad settlement.

I let you walk out of my life once.

You owe me.

Can't wait to hear Hetty's debriefing on this one.

Never vacationed in the Caymans.

Always working.

Working now?

Afraid so.

How?

White's cell phone.

The one you took off his body.

We dusted it for prints.

White's weren't on 'em, yours were.

You switched them.

We've been tracking you since you left the scene.

Just needed enough time for you to clear the cash.

You know...

I never did apologize for what happened.

Forget about it.

When we tripped that alarm and you offered to hold the guards off, I thought we were on the same page.

So did I.

Why do you think I searched for you?

I went in worried you were dead.

Imagine my surprise to find you at the safe house, sipping tea.

We both knew that that mission was bigger than either one of us.

Not for me, it wasn't.

I never would have left you.

It was the only way.

No, there's always another way.

Well, I guess that's the difference between you and me.

You know...

We could start over.

My real name is...

Rosetti.

Nice boat.

You didn't think I'd keep my partner from a free trip to the Cayman Islands, did you?