02x11 - Disorder

[bunniefuu]

♪ Oh, come let us adore him ♪
♪ Oh, come let us adore him ♪
♪ Oh, come let us adore him ♪
♪ Christ the Lord. ♪

All donations go to our local soup kitchen.

Sure.

Here you go.

Happy holidays!

Happy holidays! Thank you.

Happy holidays!

Thank you very much.

We really appreciate it. Thanks so much.

Thank you.

Have a great night.

Happy Holidays!

WOMAN: Were you off key?

MAN: No way.

WOMAN: Oh.

Did you see the wife adjusting her hair and makeup as soon as I turned on the camera?

(laughter)

That's nothing.

Last year, a guy tried to slip me his screenplay.

Oh, no!

Yeah, yeah.

(gasps)

Hey, did we stop at this house last year?

You know, I don't remember.

Well, let's try.

Wonder why they didn't put any Christmas stuff there.

Yeah, there should be.

Let's do "Silent Night."

(knocking, doorbell ringing)

MAN: Ready, guys?

(note plays on pitch pipe)

♪ Silent night ♪
♪ Holy night ♪
♪ All is calm... ♪

(g*nshots, screaming)

(gasping)

What... what the hell was that?

(glass shattering, screaming)

WOMAN: Run!

MAN: Come on!

(g*nsh*t, screaming)

(g*nshots continue) Come on!

MAN: Come on!

Come on, hurry!

WOMAN: Come on, let's go!

Get in! Come on!

(moaning)

Please!

Help me!

NCIS: LA 2x11

Disorder
Original air date on December 23, 2010

Awesome.

Hold on there, Little Drummer Boy.

Let's talk about this for a second.

Aye, aye, Ebenezer.

Hetty's never given us anything for Christmas before.

Why this year?

Exactly.

Because she knows I like surprises.

SAM: You guys ever feel like we're stuck babysitting some kid whose parents won't come get him... ever?

DEEKS: Sam is like the Grinch who stole Christmas...

Except for... bigger.

(chuckling)

Ah...

You all have your gifts.

Dare we ask what we did to deserve this, Hetty?

Rest assured, Mr. Callen, I never give gifts, unless they perfectly suit the recipients.

And perfection struck four times today?

Happy holidays, everyone!

So what's everybody doing for Christmas?

Huh! I'm going to buy G as much beer as he can drink.

KENSI: Explain, please.

I scored two tickets to the Lakers-Heat.

Courtside.

Nice!

Wow. Enjoy Kobe and LeBron.

Am I sensing a little jealousy over there, Deeks?

About you guys, on your man date?

A little bit. It's okay...

(scoffing): Man date.

It's okay. I'll be seeing somebody special.

Oh, you-you have a date on Christmas? Fact: more people hook up on national holidays than any other day. Look it up.

Where?

Player's Almanac?

How 'bout you?

Family.

You have family in L. A.?

Nope. In, um...

Seattle.

Hetty's idea of the perfect gift for me is a...

Spice rack?

That's a nice spice rack.

DEEKS: You don't want it, I'll take it.

No, no, no.

That's a nice spice rack. I know.

SAM: I bought that for her myself.

I bought it for Hetty.

Christmas 2008.

A scented candle?

It smells like sage.

Jasmine.

I gave that to Hetty two years ago.

Same scent.

Same candle.

I'll take it.

What? N-n-no.

Excuse me, Mister.

I did not give that to you.

Hand it over. N-no.

You gave it to Hetty, who gave it to Callen, who is right now realizing he has absolutely no use for a jasmine- scented candle.

I gave those.

Christmas 2008, I...

I don't believe it.

Cool. Bookends.

Hetty's a regifter.

Huh!

Hetty's a regifter.

(laughs)

DEEKS: Oh! Are you kidding me?

That's what I'm talking about.

That is awesome.

Scarf. You know what this is?

Favorite color.

What? I gave that to Hetty a year ago.

Evidently, she thought it would look better on me.

That's not the point.

You didn't have to.

I didn't.

Look. The good news is, at least she didn't regift that sweater from last Christmas.

Do you remember...

With the reindeer in the snow? The one...

Hey.

It came from me, too. 'Kay?

And maybe she didn't regift it because she liked it.

Yeah.

Or maybe because no one wears a size extra, extra, extra small but her.

(squeaky horn blast)

Join me, my friends!

The crime gods have given us a holiday gift.

Uh, it's from Hetty.

She says she thought it was the perfect present.

That was me.

Three Christmases ago.

Hetty was going through her goose-hunting phase.

Nice spice rack.

I know. I love it.

ERIC: Meet Lieutenant Lance Talbot, a recently-discharged Navy intelligence officer.

Why does he look like an extra from a slasher film?

NELL: Well, he tried to revive one of the victims.

So, it's not his blood.

The footage is from a group of Christmas carolers.

They heard g*nshots inside Talbot's house.

According to LAPD, he witnessed a sh**t-out in his home that resulted in two men dead.

Why was he discharged?

Post-traumatic stress disorder he suffered from his deployment in Afghanistan.

PTSD. What's a desk jockey like him doing on the front lines?

During his deployment, the Defense Intelligence Agency located a group of Afghani tribal leaders willing to work with Americans against the Taliban.

Taliban found out, these leaders would be marked for death.

Which is why their identities are highly classified.

Lieutenant Talbot was tasked with debriefing each one of them.

He knows their names.

If this guy opens his mouth, the bodies could start piling up.

Who was k*lled in the sh**t-out?

ERIC: One victim was the Navy corpsman responsible for administering Talbot's medication each day: Ensign Eric Scott.

Now, LAPD nailed him nine years ago for drug possession, but he never did time.

Only family Talbot's got is an ex-wife from an annulled marriage ten years ago.

So the nurse was the one taking care of him regularly.

The other victim was John Mancuso.

Now, he's got a history of drug busts.

He's a small-time drug dealer.

But no known connection to, uh, Lieutenant Talbot.

However, phone records show regular calls between Scott and Mancuso over the past six months.

Are we sure that Talbot's just a witness?

ERIC: LAPD seems to think so.

He was sh*t in the hand, but it could have been a defensive wound.

Could have put his hand up to protect himself, taken a b*llet.

NELL: The ER said it was a minor wound.

ERIC: Well, after being treated, he was released into police custody, but...

As of now, this case is ours.

This case is ours because NCIS doesn't want him disclosing classified intel.

Intel that could get our allies in Afghanistan k*lled.

We need a forensics report to determine what really happened.

LAPD says it'll take at least three days for us to get a finalized crime scene report.

Try three weeks.

This time of year, half the department's cashing in on accumulated vacation time.

Does anyone have a ball of string and duct tape?

That's...

Hold, please.

Sam is Talbot.

Callen is Scott the nurse.

Deeks is Mancuso the drug dealer.

'Kay, I'm just wondering why I'm the guy with duct tape on my forehead.

Because it looks good on you.

We're working on b*llet trajectories.

Somebody's very official today.

Don't tell me you're still upset about the spice rack.

I don't run around...

Giving gifts to just anyone.

It takes a cold-blooded woman to do me like that.

And you put a lot of thought into the spice rack and the sweater?

You still have those steak knives I gave you?

Yes.

Okay.

So, uh, you visiting family in Seattle, huh?

Yep.

That's interesting, 'cause you never mentioned them before.

You never asked.

What part of Seattle?

The west.

That is a direction on a compass, not a town or a suburb.

You wouldn't know it.

Yeah, right.

My knowledge of imaginary cities with imaginary family is in fact lacking, so, hey...

What are you really doing for Christmas?

Talbot is sitting at the table.

Scott... comes in to administer his meds, as usual.

Uses his own key to let himself in.

But then, Mancuso arrives unexpectedly.

Scott has a known history of drug use.

Mancuso's a drug dealer.

Confrontation ensues.

They're both carrying. They pull out their weapons... open fire.

Chaos breaks out.

Talbot sees his friend is being threatened...

Lunges at Mancuso.

Mancuso starts f*ring nine-millimeter rounds from his Glock...

Hits Scott three times in the torso...

Two strays go out the window...

And hits Talbot in the hand.

Which gives Scott the opening to aim his Smith & Wesson

.357 for the...

k*ll sh*t.

So Scott took three sh*ts to the torso, he drops down, he bleeds out.

Talbot revived his friend, which is why he ends up covered in the nurse's blood and his own.

Right.

But there's an anomaly that's...

Bugging me.

Scott must have walked across the room, with three g*nsh*t wounds to his torso in order to execute Mancuso.

Well, I'd say it's a pretty solid chain of events, considering all we had prior to this was Colonel Mustard in the study with a candlestick.

The only one who can confirm or deny the details is Talbot himself.

Let's bring him in.

What?

Don't. Don't!

Ju...

Ouch.

(whispering): Oh, it burns.

Talbot's cell phone.

Six very angry messages on it, all from his nurse, Scott.

Said he knew what Talbot was planning, but...

Well, frankly, after talking to this guy, I don't think he's capable of planning a grocery list.

Did Talbot tell you anything about their relationship?

Said Scott was the only friend he had.

He's all yours, now.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Who are you guys?

Agent Callen, Agent Hanna. NCIS.

(sighs): I never thought I'd be glad to see NCIS show up.

Yeah, I could tell the police were getting frustrated with me.

My, um, my memory's not what it used to be.

The... doctors say it's a result of my condition.

Well, we just want to ask you a few questions about what happened last night.

Do you remember anything?

Just bits and pieces.

Our car's just over here.

(police siren wails)

(heartbeat pounding)

CALLEN: Talbot!

(car horns honking, tires screeching)

DRIVER: What's wrong with you?!

Who are you guys?!

NCIS, remember?

I'm sorry, it's just...

My memory's not what it used to be.

Doctors tell me i-it's a result of my condition.

(panting)

What happened to my hand?

Come on.

Come on.

Hang in there, Lance.

Is there anything else we should know about him?

Something that might assist us with this case?

Doesn't "doctor-patient confidentiality" mean anything at NCIS these days?

CALLEN: Doctor, there are no cameras or microphones in this room.

This is off the record.

Anything you know could make a big difference for him.

He experiences bouts of amnesia and disorientation on a daily basis.

His grasp of reality is tenuous, at best.

He's not a reliable witness.

KENSI: What if we take him back to the crime scene to jog his memory?

I wouldn't recommend that.

There's a strong chance that if he's re-exposed, it'll trigger a major panic episode.

So we may never know what happened in the house last night.

This man has no family and no friends.

The trauma he experienced while deployed has driven him into complete isolation.

Frankly, forgetting what happened last night may be the best thing for him.

Has Talbot been taking risperidone along with benzodiazepines?

As a matter of fact, yes.

I'll talk to him.

I didn't know you had an agent who was familiar with the pharmacological treatment of DSM-IV-TR.

Neither did we.

Thank you for your time, Doctor.

No problem.

Who are you?

Kensi.

Can you tell me about Afghanistan?

Uh, I debriefed tribal leaders.

Men with political power that were willing to work with Americans to stabilize the government.

That's important work.

Mm-hmm.

I had a unit of Marines assigned to protect me.

Uh, what I knew was so valuable.

You don't have to...

No, it's...

We were ambushed.

It was a kidnap attempt.

The, uh, insurgents...

They, uh, targeted me.

They wanted what was in my head.

And...

I escaped while those Marines protected me.

And four of them didn't make it.

(sniffles)

(mutters)

(sniffles)

Look at me.

I can barely remember them.

Sometimes I see names, sometimes I see faces, and sometimes I see nothing at all.

If someone were to grab him, they could force information out of him.

This Talbot's a national security breach waiting to happen.

I know what you're going through.

I have a hard time believing that.

Six years ago, I was engaged to a Marine.

And his name was Jack.

He was stationed in Fallujah.

His unit was tasked with enforcing curfew.

sh**t and ambushes every night.

He came back home...

But I knew he wasn't the same.

Post-traumatic stress disorder.

This is news to me.

Me, too.

He said life over there was like falling through the sky.

Constant rush of adrenaline.

Everything felt vivid and real.

And coming home to me...

Coming home to me felt like hitting the ground.

And I did...

I did everything I could.

(voice breaking): Um, I...

(sniffles)

I worked with his psychiatrist.

I helped with his meds.

And I listened, I always listened.

Always.

It was Christmas morning.

I woke up, and he was gone.

Where did he go?

(sighs)

She's-She's playing him.

She's trying to get him to open up, right?

Let me take you back to the house.

Being there might help you remember what happened last night.

You know, your ex was right.

It's exactly like falling through the sky.

And that's why what you're suggesting scares me.

I already hit the ground when I came back from Afghanistan.

What if it happens again?

I will be right there to catch you.

Hey, um...

You know, you did all you could to help him.

Wherever Jack is, he knows that.

Wow, I didn't, um...

Wow.

CALLEN: Go.

Take Deeks with you.

Check in when you get there.

DEEKS: Were you ever, um, tempted to go looking for him?

Maybe I was hoping one day he'd come looking for me.

(garbled police radio transmission)

I know this is tough for you.

(panting)

I think I'll be okay.

Okay.

Lance, here's something I don't understand.

Why did Scott walk all the way over here to sh**t Mancuso at point-blank range?

(panting)

Um...

(panting continues)

You sure about this?

Just wait.

(heavy panting)

(grunting)

I don't know. It's...

There were so much g*nshots, it was a lot of blood.

Okay.

Please think about this, please.

This is the only detail that doesn't make sense to me.

(sobbing)

I can't... I can't breathe!

Okay, okay.

We have to get him out of here.

No, wait, wait.

Wait, wait.

(panting)

What? What? What?

Tell me.

They didn't k*ll each other.

I sh*t them both.

Where's Talbot right now?

Boat shed.

I got two agents keeping an eye on him.

He says he can't remember anything other than getting ahold of Mancuso's g*n and pulling the trigger.

KENSI: Legally speaking, he's not guilty.

He was defending himself.

Forensics show that Talbot's the victim here.

NELL: Sorry to interrupt, but you'll want to see this.

This man knows the names of tribal leaders pivotal to the peace process.

And now he's connected to a double m*rder.

Go. Brief them, Nell.

I've got calls to make.

So I discovered...

We discovered a connection between Mancuso and Scott.

LAPD found large quantities of dr*gs in Scott's car.

Sleeping pills, sedatives.

Muscle relaxers and benzodiazepines.

All of which have street value.

And all of which are used to treat PTSD patients.

Scott's bank accounts show large cash deposits that don't match up with his nurse's salary.

And Talbot's blood test results show he hasn't been on his medication for weeks.

What about the rest of the patients under Scott's care?

He was feeding them sugar pills and selling the actual pharmaceuticals to John Mancuso.

52 armed service vets under that man's care went months without proper treatment.

DEEKS: All this fits our theory, right?

Mancuso and Scott had some kind of beef.

The confrontation went down at Talbot's house.

g*ns were drawn.

Talbot must have thought he was back in Afghanistan.

Blacked out.

He comes back to his senses...

There's two dead men.

He panicked.

So where does this leave the case?

Talbot k*lled two criminals in self-defense.

The case is closed.

Deeks, I got it.

Kensi.

I know what you're going through.

I've been there.

I watched Jack slip away.

Maybe I didn't try hard enough.

I don't believe that for one minute.

I know what it's like to have someone you care about come back from deployment a different person.

After all Talbot's been through, I'm going to do everything in my power to help him.

Kensi.

Talbot's not Jack.

I was surprised to see you again.

Why?

You know, back at my house, there was a moment there where I almost didn't tell you what really happened.

You thought you'd go to jail?

No.

I thought you'd give up on me.

You did the right thing.

Wow. Look at that.

You're good.

That's the first time my hands...

Do you have any friends?

Uh, no, not really.

So there's no reason anyone would be following you?

Following me?

N-n... What's going on?

Please, tell me what's...

Do exactly as I say.

Act like nothing's wrong.

Okay?

Stay one step behind me to my right.

We're approaching a man in a suit on our left.

Do you know him?

No, I've never seen him before.

Okay.

Oh, man, I can't believe this is happening again.

I need you to stay calm.

Kensi, he's got a g*n!

(panicked clamoring)

Stay with me!

Stay with me!

I'm sure there were two of them.

(camera shutter clicks)

I didn't see him.

This guy wanted to k*ll me.

No. He wanted to k*ll me.

(garbled radio transmission)

Thanks.

I'm pretty sure he was with someone.

He's still got to be out there.

(phone ringing)

Talbot took a while to calm down.

Eric.

Just pulled the lever on the facial recognition slot machine, and we've got a winner on Kensi's cell phone pic.

NELL: Behrouz Ghavami.

Former member of Takavar.

More specifically, he's with an urban commando branch of the Takavar...

Lashgare 23.

Thanks, Eric.

The dead guy's Takavar...

Lashgare 23.

Iranian special m*llitary forces.

Trained to work in pairs.

They want the name of those Afghani tribal leaders that are working with our side.

They tried to take me out so they could grab him.

Just like the kidnap attempt in Afghanistan.

We need to take him someplace safe.

So in the last 24 hours, Talbot has sh*t two guys at his apartment.

Now he's got Iranians chasing him.

SAM: Could be a coincidence, or there could be a lot more to this case than we first thought.

Take him to a motel.

HETTY: If Lashgare 23 is here in Los Angeles, it's not to sample the Dolmeh Felfel.

Falafel's about as exotic as I get, Hetty.

That's a pity.

Despite Mr. Talbot's mental state, they might be able to garner intel useful to them, but potentially harmful to us.

I kept watching the footage from the carolers' video camera hoping I'd eventually find something.

Which I did.

I like to think of it as Nell's secret Santa.

A black mark.

This is LAPD's photo of the crime scene.

Same wall.

No mark.

Pull up the photo of the body positions.

This is where Mancuso fell after he was sh*t.

Head height.

Coroner confirms his hair was dyed.

Which explains the mark.

But not what made it go away.

We need to take a closer look at Mr. Talbot.

DEEKS: All right, two windows.

Clear view of the parking lot.

Not a single tree, bush or blade of grass to conceal the foot approach.

May be functional and dreary on the outside.

Wait for it.

Once the key has been turned, a little slice of heaven.

So, uh, kitchenette there.

Bathroom right around the corner.

They change these sheets like clockwork once a week, and free cable.

Except for p*rn.

It's nice.

Classy.

You would know.

So what do we do now?

Well, uh, we do what most families do on Christmas Eve.

Watch Uncle Bob get drunk and pee in the toaster?

How about eat and watch TV?

That's a great idea.

The game just started.

I was thinking more along the lines of Miracle on 34th Street.

(TV playing) Really?

Actually, I wouldn't mind watching that.

Really?

Why don't you go get the food, Deeks?

Yeah. Why don't I go get the food?

'Cause that's what Deeks does is get...

Turkey sandwiches okay for everybody?

Well, the tradition in my house was ice cream and beer.

Really?

Don't knock it till you've tried it.

Oh, I've tried it, although it was in seventh grade and it didn't end pretty for anyone.

Unless, of course, you like Jackson Pollock.

Actually, I love ice cream and beer.

Mm-hmm.

Okay.

(door opens and closes)

Remember Nell mentioned that Talbot has an ex-wife?

Well, when he was 18, he married Rochelle Stanton.

A few months into teenage marital bliss, he calls LAPD reporting she assaulted him.

The marriage is annulled.

ERIC: Rochelle Stanton scored on the FBI database hit parade.

She's now married to one Tagvor Covesian.

Heavy hitter with the Armenian mob in East Hollywood.

Guess what the Bureau's after him for. Hmm?

Trafficking in black market electronics with Hezbollah.

Iran's biggest t*rror1st group, Hezbollah.

They make a fortune each year selling counterfeit goods.

All right, so we have a possible connection between Talbot's ex-wife and the men trying to kidnap him.

That's assuming they're working with Hezbollah and not another Iranian group.

A friend at the FBI's surveillance unit told me that Covesian is hosting a Christmas Eve football party for his bookie buddies.

Rochelle Stanton will be there.

We could bring her in and interrogate her.

She's just gonna lawyer up.

We don't have time for that, Sam.

I count seven.

(indistinct voices)

Definitely packing.

(cell phone speed-dialing)

Eric?

Just say the word.

We're set.

Okay.

There's the snap.

Quarterback rolls right.

Pump fakes. He has a guy open.

He throws...

Now, Eric.

(men yelling)

We've definitely got motion in the backfield.

(phone rings)

Call's coming in.

First Class Home Entertainment Services.

How may I provide you with excellent service today?

MAN: What kind of piece of crap cable service am I paying for here?!

I need somebody out here now!

If someone's not here in five minutes...!

(doorbell rings)

Hurry it up!

We've missed the first half of the game already!

I'll check the unit.

Where's your incoming cable connection?

Back of the house.

My wife can show you.

Move it!

You believe these clowns?!

Hope you can get it fixed.

Those guys are pissed.

Yeah, I'll get right on it.

First, why don't you tell me what your husband's Iranian friends want with Lance Talbot?

I've got armed agents all around this house.

Make the wrong decision, a blacked-out game's gonna be the least of your problems.

Honey?!

Can I speak to you?!

If he's working with the men trying to kidnap Talbot, the best thing you can do is cooperate with us.

Save yourself the prison sentence.

What is it?

Appetizers will be ready in five minutes, baby.

Get back to work!

(scoffs)

Tagvor does business with the Iranians, but only on orders from his boss.

He hates them.

His family was exiled from Tehran in the 1970s.

He won't even meet with them in person.

So how the hell would they plot a kidnapping together?

What was Talbot like when you knew him?

Son of a bitch couldn't keep it in his pants.

He had three different girlfriends on the side for two years, before I found out.

And he dropped the as*ault charges against you because he felt guilty.

Lance is not capable of feeling guilt.

He was trying to get into the Navy.

Didn't want anything on his record.

Three relationships, and he managed to keep it from you for two years.

He never slipped up?

He remembered birthdays, phone numbers?

When you're a sociopath with a photographic memory, you don't slip up.

SAM: Excuse me.

Hey. You check that incoming cable?

Yeah. Yeah, we're all good here.

(under breath): Go ahead, Eric.

(sportscast resumes, cheering)

MAN: It's about time!

KRIS KRINGLE (on TV): Good morning, Your Honor.

(cell phone rings)

This better be important. Kris Kringle's about to go on trial.

There's more to Talbot than we think. Watch your back.

Yeah.

(scoffs)

Oh, my God, really?

Oh, yeah.

Great. Merry Christmas.

(thud, grunts)

(g*nshots)

Kensi!

Kensi?

Damn it.

(Kensi groans)

(groans)

I had a dream I was, um...

Being visited by the Three Wise Men.

And then...

I saw Deeks.

Where's Talbot?

(phone ringing)

We're looking for him.

Are you okay?

Talk to me, Eric.

LAPD reported a man matching Talbot's description just carjacked a civilian two blocks from the motel.

He's in a red Camaro, and I've got traffic cams on him right now.

Eric's got a visual on Talbot.

Sam and I will go after him.

Stay with Kensi until the paramedics get here.

All right.

CALLEN: Okay, Eric.

Hurry up, guys.

He's moving fast.

Where is he?

He's moving west on Pico just passed 20th Street.

Kensi? Kensi!

I'm good to go.

I don't think you are, and it has nothing to do with the head wound.

I'm driving.

Fine.

Scratch my car, I'll Ben Gay your shorts.

(tires squeal)

He's taking a right on Ocean.

We're on Pico and Seventh.

Deeks?

We're on your six, two blocks behind.

(horn honking, tires screeching)

Maybe three.

(tires squealing)

He's slowing down.

Santa Monica Pier.

CALLEN: There's the red Camaro.

(tires squeal)

Got eyes on Talbot.

What's he doing here?

Must be a meet.

Got the right flank.

Split up.

We'll box him in.

Moving into position.

Talbot just made an exchange.

Took a pack from the other guy who was at the boardwalk.

He's wearing black pants, blue jacket.

Sam, you and Kensi stay with Talbot.

Deeks and I got the other guy.

He just put a flash drive in his pocket.

Kensi, stay with him.

I'm going to loop around and cut him off.

Move in now.

(grunting)

(grunting)

Don't move!

Federal agent.

Freeze!

(g*nf*re, people screaming)

(sighs)

You okay?

Yeah.

I'm fine.

You figured it out, didn't you?

How he got it done.

Let's hear it.

(sighs)

Talbot faked his PTSD.

No one would suspect him of selling classified intel.

Those angry voicemails from the nurse on his cell phone?

Scott saw that Talbot's behavior stayed the same without his meds.

He realized he was faking, caught onto his plan.

He wanted a cut of Talbot's deal with the Iranians.

Scott brings in Mancuso as muscle.

(grunting)

Talbot disarms Mancuso and kills Scott.

He uses Scott's g*n to sh**t Mancuso point-blank.

Final touch?

Talbot sh**t himself in the hand.

He's covered in his nurse's blood.

Says he was trying to save him.

(grunting)

(panting)

Throws a wrench in the forensics.

Took 15 minutes for LAPD to show up.

Christmas carolers said it was chaotic.

At some point, Talbot slips away, wipes the black mark off.

That way the crime scene matches his version of the events.

When he thought I was getting suspicious, he confessed to k*lling them both, thinking his PTSD would cover him.

I should have seen through it.

LAPD, the entire U. S. Navy, his own psychiatrist didn't get it.

What makes you so special?

Picking you up at 11:00 in the morning.

Game starts at 1:00.

I'm gonna make sure you still have those steak knives I gave you last year.

I told you, I still got 'em.

So, it doesn't look like you're going to make it to Seattle.

No, Deeks, I'm not going to Seattle.

Since this Christmas Eve has been so warm and fuzzy, I say, we keep this party going.

I thought you had a date.

I do.

Marty, it's so nice to see you again!

And who is this pretty young lady friend of yours?

This is Kensi. I figured we could use an extra hand.

Thank you, Kensi, and for that, you get a hat.

I get a hat?

And you get a hat, too.

(indistinct conversations)

♪ ♪

(grunts)

Ms. Jones...

Merry Christmas.

Oh.

Hetty, you shouldn't have.

Go ahead.

Open it.

Oh.

Well, that's... Wow!

Try it on.

Okay.

Okay.

You're going home?

Uh, my flight leaves in an hour, so I'll probably have to go standby on a later one.

Oh, nonsense.

I'll drive you.

Oh, but it...

It's Christmas, Nell.

It's a time for miracles.

And a little talent at the reins of the sleigh wouldn't hurt, either.

Jingle all the way.

(beep)

♪ ♪

(engine revving)

Buckle up, my dear.

(engine revving)

Hold on, Miss Jones!

Hetty!