02x12 - Overwatch

Episode transcripts for the TV show "NCIS: Los Angeles". Aired: September 2009 to present.*

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The Naval Criminal Investigation Service's Office of Special Projects takes on the undercover work and the hard to cr*ck cases in LA. Key agents are G. Callen and Sam Hanna, streets kids risen through the ranks.
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02x12 - Overwatch

Post by bunniefuu »

(glass slide clinking)

(computer beeps)

Oh.

You are not of this world, my friend.

"U. S. N."

If I'm not mistaken-- which I often am-- you've got a naval signature.

Well, that's just weird.

Not weird at all.

(gasps)

Toe-tag check!

Not sure where they think...

Anyone's going.

Mrs. Smith... present.

Mr. Yusef Afzal is under the guidance of the eminently qualified Rose Carlyle.

Yeah. Sorry, Edward?

Edgar.

Edgar.

Um, I have to call a friend--

I mean, a colleague.

Don't touch anything.

Okay?

I can never get a signal in here.

What would I touch?

I love my job...

My temporary unpaid internship that will hopefully lead to a fully realized life.

Señor Garcia, esta presente.

Uh...

Incoming are left up front.

(silenced g*nshots)

(glass shattering)

(groans)

(gasps)

(knocking)

(panting)

♪ NCIS: LA 2x12 ♪

Overwatch
Original air date on January 10, 2011

(metal door clanging)

HETTY: Do you think you're... clever?

That you can read people?

That you know things?

Well, I'm an undercover agent for a highly respected federal agency, (clanging)

so...

I'm going to go with "yes."

And I'm sorry about your syrup.

What you so crassly referred to as my "syrup"...

Is my Michoacán shade-grown agave nectar, my personal sweetener.

But, however, it isn't that to which I refer.

I've just, uh, received copies of your Federal 360 coworker evaluations.

Perfect scores in every category, for every coworker?

What can I say?

You run a tight ship.

You know what you have to do with these.

Redo them.

I'll race you for it.

You think you can win?

Just because you're...

I didn't say that.

Just because I'm...

I didn't say that either.

All right, let's do it.

Come on, top of the wall.

Top of the wall!

I have to, uh, warn you...

That if you indulge in this sort of frivolity and brinkmanship, and I win, I'm going to expect these tomorrow.

(chuckles)

Deal.

I also need to tell you that I've had years of practice.

You don't scare me.

Well, maybe a little bit.

(laughs)

I seem to recall a certain Sherpa saying exactly that just before I b*at him to the Everest summit-- with a broken arm.

You expect me to believe that?

Okay, see, now you're bluffing.

On three.

One...

Two...

Wise choice.

And no...

I won't do this just for fun.

I wasn't going to ask.

Ask what?

Wait a minute.

Was she bluffing?

Who?

She does this to me every time.

She knows I think she's bluffing, but then she starts with these Yoda mind tricks...

Did Callen sleep last night?

...so that I don't take the challenge...

Which is what she wanted?

You didn't have him reading Hegel again, did you?

Wasn't me.

I b*rned all my copies.

Copies of what?

Whoo-whoo! What are you drinking?

Coffee by the half gallon.

I'm literally mainlining caffeine, 'cause it's much more efficient.

(slurps)

Yeah, that's an efficient way of saying "efficient."

So is this why I have to pull over every 20 minutes for you to pee?

CALLEN: It's a con!

No, it's a double-con, that's what it is.

(cell phone rings)

That's exactly what it is.

(phone beeps) Callen.

Okay, what did I miss?

Hey, Rose.

ROSE: I came back.

I saw him and I ran.

CALLEN: Rose.

ROSE: Oh, dear. Yeah.

Rose, slow down.

I, I, uh.. I, uh, yeah, uh...

Um, and I...

(EMTs grunting, garbled radio transmission)

(heavy thud)

(panting): So, I was trying to call you, but he wouldn't stop chatting.

Oh, dear! I shouldn't say that now that he's dead.

And right here.

He didn't have far to go.

POLICE OFFICER: We're done.

So, I was walking out, because reception in here is lousy, but...

I came back, I saw him, and I ran.

(shuddering groan)

Rose!

You need to listen to me.

They had a plan. They had g*ns.

You did the right thing.

Did I?

Then why do I feel so crummy?

Were you and Edgar close?

No. Not at all.

That-that's the worst part.

I barely knew him.

Nate always knew what to say.

Not that you guys don't, but...

You know.

He's an operational psychologist.

That's what he does for a living.

I miss him.

(cell phone buzzes)

We all do.

CALLEN: You said you were trying to call me?

Yeah, yeah. I-I-I found a-a residue on the body, you know, the one that was stolen?

And I recognized the naval signature: U. S. N.

U. S. Navy.

Nate and I talked about it once.

Um, so when I saw it, I thought, "Do I know anyone in the navy?"

I may need to see a sample of that residue.

Of course.

Coroner's van is missing.

Eric's looking for it.

These guys are good.

Residue on a stolen body with a naval signature?

Does that sound normal to you?

No, it sounds classified to me.

They waited for the guard to make his rounds, jimmied the door down the hall, came right in, walked out the same way.

Okay, so that is there. We also have him on camera here, here and here.

It's a closed circuit DVR deck, but it's low resolution.

They're wearing caps, and they are turned away from the camera. Wow.

Bad guys, one; cops, zero.

Downloading.

Funny, isn't it?

A thousand ways to die.

Only two ways to go, though: cremated or buried.

Not me. I don't want to be buried, and I certainly don't want to be b*rned.

Oh, you will have to choose: casket or urn?

No.

I'm going for cryogenic suspension.

Ah.

Mm-hmm. Frozen in a suspended state of animation, and then thawed out when they have the medical technology to bring me back.

Can we keep you in the office?

Ooh, with a little viewing window, like an aquarium.

That'd be so cool.

You mock me now.

20 years from now, I'm going to come back.

You know what I'm gonna do?

I'm gonna marry your daughter.

Oh!

Oh!

That is awkward.

That is creepy!

You know what I would love, though, is for you to be my mother-in-law.

Think about that.

"Oh, Mrs. Blye, it's so good to see you.

What a wonderful one-piece jumpsuit you're wearing."

Just stop it. You're giving me nightmares.

It's just me helping you with your walker to the early-bird special.

Shut up.

Hi.

Anything on the vic?

Ask Eddie Haskell.

Okay. I, uh, talked to LAPD, and they're more than happy to hand the case over.

The report says it's a home invasion gone bad.

Yusef Afzal was k*lled by blunt-force trauma to the head.

He was hit, he fell, and then d*ed.

And then half-autopsied.

Then stolen.

It's a bad day...

(phone buzzes)

even for a dead guy.

Eric found the van.

Kensi, take Beaver, here, and check it out, will you?

Beaver? Really?

Okay.

DEEKS: No, that's fine.

But if we're going to do a nickname, maybe we should do something cool, right?

Like Diesel?

Or, uh, or-or D-Rock?

Or D-Unit?

Just think about it!

He's De-caf.

That's not much of a plan.

Steal a body, steal a van, drive four blocks, abandon the van-- and this is completely nonsensical.

KENSI: Seems to have worked for them.

Looks like one of your parking jobs, Deeks.

That's one of the reasons I became a cop.

You can literally park anywhere you want.

Seriously...

Why did you become a cop?

You mean, like, honestly?

No. Lie to me.

I wanted to protect people...

You know? I wanted to do something that really made a difference in people's lives.

That's really nice, Deeks.

That, and I know how much girls love a guy in uniforms.

Overrated.

Really?!

Overrated? The whole uniform thing?

You don't like that shiny badge?

Those tight polyester pants?

Door, Deeks.

One, two, three.

(grenade pin clattering)

b*mb!

(car alarms blaring, horns honking)

Maybe they did have a plan.

(sighs)

What do we know about our stolen dead guy?

Yusef Afzal, 36 years old, worked at Calwest Hospital as a computer tech.

No criminal record, nothing on Interpol, no watch lists, nothing.

He was born here, never left the country.

He's, like, the most boring guy in Venice.

And our body snatchers?

The b*mb did an excellent job of destroying any trace of what they were doing.

No visuals, no prints, no DNA, and we're still tracking down that navy signature that was found on Yusef.

So why do you steal a dead body?

Proof of death.

Satanic ritual.

Cannibalism.

Just thinking outside the box.

You need to get back in the box.

But why this one?

Why this corpse?

Why risk a m*rder conviction to steal it?

Maybe he's not Yusef Afzal.

Could be a cover.

We could run Yusef's DNA, see if he's in the SOCOM database.

It's a long sh*t.

If he's any kind of a jihadist, he'd be keeping a low profile.

Either he was a sleeper way below the radar or Yusef has more secrets than we realize.

All right, according to the LAPD crime report, neighbors heard yelling, came over, knocked on the door, called the alarm company and 911 from the stoop.

Quite a neighborhood watch.

Report also says the perps escaped out the back.

Case is cold from there.

Oh, can I help you?

Can we help you carry Yusef's stuff to your car?

'Cause we're sort of wondering who you are.

And now I'm wondering who you are.

We are investigating Yusef's m*rder.

(door closes)

Your turn.

Larissa Bay, his girlfriend.

I was just grabbing a few things of ours.

You know, memories.

If you need it for evidence, take it.

It's okay.

Maybe you can tell us a little bit about Yusef.

Where'd you guys meet?

At the hospital.

I'm the charge nurse on the pediatric floor.

He was our computer tech.

I think he crashed my server a few times just to come by.

The old workplace romance trick.

Sounds like you two were serious.

I think we both thought it was going to be.

We were friends for years and started dating on Valentine's Day.

The police are calling this a home invasion.

Which is hard to believe.

It's ridiculously safe-- people everywhere.

Can you tell me about Yusef's background?

Where was he from?

Was he religious?

His parents fled Beirut in the '70s.

They were Muslim but not observant.

So is that how he came to have a nonobservant girlfriend?

I celebrate Christmas with my dad and Seder with my mom, and Yusef happily came to both.

Any chance that's not his real name, not his real background?

Yusef is not a closet radical or a militant, if that's what you're thinking.

What he is is completely American.

I'm just saying that people have an ability to hide a side of themselves.

Does your partner hide anything from you?

DEEKS: Matter of fact, she does, yeah.

She got a junk food jones she doesn't think I know about...

But I find the Twinkie wrappers stuffed between the car seats.

That was one time on a stakeout.

If that was one time, there's like 12 in a box...

The police report says that you were working the night of Yusef's death.

You think I had something to do with it?

DEEKS: Given the rocky family dynamic-- you know, you got different religions--

I think we're just saying...

You're not hearing me.

I loved Yusef.

After his shift, he'd suit up and go into the NICU with me to rock the babies.

You have this all wrong.

Evidently.

Well, if he went into the NICU, he can't be all bad.

So you believe her?

I really wish somebody was lying.

Come on.

I'll go buy you a Ding Dong.

Yummy.

(computer beeps)

NELL: This is the residue Rose got off Yusef's body, blown up.

See the geometric shapes?

It's a crystalline structure.

NELL: See the eensy-weensy little numbers?

That's a classified navy project identifier.

It took some digging.

'Cause if you're going to make a number that small, you're probably hiding something.

It's called Overwatch.

It's an experimental Special Ops tracking system.

And?

And that's it.

One-line description, and then nothing, nada, niente in the system on who, what, when, anything.

They won't even talk about it over the phone.

Insisted we do it in person.

Overwatch?

I know, it's very Sauron.

That's Lord of the Rings humor.

Sorry.

(chuckles wryly)

(sighs)

REARDEN: Overwatch is a tagging detection system for use in counterinsurgency operations.

Sensor platforms can track insurgents as they retreat or attempt to hide among the civilian population.

Right, how about you tell us what's not in the catalog description?

Well, I can't get into specifics, even with you people, but the idea essentially is that you tag a guy with the residue, you can track him anywhere on the planet by satellite to within a yard away.

That's impressive.

You have no idea.

(typing) Special Ops started field testing last month in a single high conflict w*r zone.

Here's our first go.

Kunduz.

Afghanistan.

And here are the targets.

And here is a tracking history.

How long does the residue last?

A few months, a few days.

We give the residue the half-life we want.

And it stays on?

Clothes or skin.

Let me show you.

You need steel wool or harsh chemicals to take it off, and that's assuming you know you've been tagged.

This is inactive spray, but it'll give you the idea.

Here, see for yourself.

SAM: Huh.

Have there been any problems?

Tracking is spotty indoors, and, uh, we had one incident involving a violent altercation where the residue actually transferred subjects, but just once.

The real issue is overload-- the man-hours needed to analyze the data dump.

So many suspects doing so many questionable things.

Exactly.

I got to tell you, this is a game changer.

But it's only as good as your human intel.

You have a target walk into a radical mosque.

What do you know?

He could be using the bathroom or hawking a new cell phone plan to the imam.

Thanks to various concerns of a similar nature, we are limited to Kunduz.

The geographic region is reasonably sized, but there are lots of people to track while we work out the bugs.

Tell me how it ended up on Yusef Afzal.

Who, as far as we can ascertain, has never been to Afghanistan.

Yusef Afzal.

He's not one of ours.

We didn't put it on him.

So who did?

Access is highly restricted.

The residue isn't even stored stateside.

Bottom line, I have no idea.

Commander, can you bring up L. A.?

As I said, there are no subjects stateside.

Humor me.

(typing)

We don't use this domestically.

I don't understand.

Okay, this-- it's got to be a glitch.

Some glitch, 'cause it looks like someone is illegally tracking dozens of Americans.

Or there's hundreds of Afghan t*rrorists roaming around L. A.

Okay, got it.

(phone beeps off)

It's not a glitch.

No, it's not a glitch.

The Pentagon just went on high alert.

Software says it started about three weeks ago.

112 subjects have been tagged.

So who are they? Why is the navy tracking them?

It's not us.

Our satellites are picking up the residue; the Overwatch software is recording and time-stamping it, but the rest of the data has been encrypted.

We cannot read anything.

So basically somebody h*jacked the world's most powerful tracking technology.

Basically, yes.

We haven't had any luck breaking the encryption.

He's spoofing his IP address-- masking his real IP with a fake one.

This guy is good.

NELL: He also hacked the tasking of satellites to collect over L. A.

Very good.

And so why tag a hundred people in Los Angeles?

And what's the connection to Yusef?

What about the targets?

Can we follow people home, check their work addresses, cross-check them that way?

(sighs)

The encryption makes the computer think that they're all the same person, so we just see these icons pop up willy-nilly.

NELL: But we did find a common vector-- Masjid Farook.

It's a mosque in Westchester.

On any given day, at afternoon prayer, you can get ten, 20, 50 targets.

So the hacker specifically targeted this mosque.

Masjid Farook is not known to be a radical hot spot.

The imam likes publicity, and there's the occasional fringe speaker, but it's not considered a security risk.

Well, what about its members?

Anybody on the watch list?

No one to set your heart racing.

I doubt that whoever is behind this is going to get caught outside the mosque in a van with a pair of binoculars and adult diapers, but it wouldn't hurt to have our own surveillance to cross-check.

(chuckles)

Eric, send the details to Kensi.

Nell, that's a nice visual.

(sighs)

I had another thought.

It's a little out there.

Okay, so this guy spoofed his IP address.

Yeah.

Now, he probably visits other sites from the same computer.

Maybe sometimes he forgets and visits, I don't know, ESPN and is spoofing his IP address...

And sometimes he visits and he isn't spoofing...

Leaving the real IP address behind.

Now, that is very, very good.

(sighs)

(chuckles)

Tall guy, ten o'clock.
(sensor-equipped camera whirs)

KENSI: Mm-hmm.

Keffiyeh approaching our 9:00.

(camera whirs)

What do we think we're watching here?

Feels like random people going to a random mosque, not a hotbed for t*rror1st activity.

Somebody's tracking them; they probably have a reason.

Larissa said that Yusef came here-- well, when he wasn't at Shabbas and Christmas dinner.

Look what happened to him.

Well, I think it's nice that he could move between worlds.

How about moving between worlds of m*rder, abduction and covert tracking systems?

Is that nice?

Happy family, eight o'clock.

KENSI: Do you think they should know what's happening?

That some hacker is targeting them?

I mean, we already have one dead body.

Yeah. They probably have the right to know that some creep is tracking them to the bathroom, the corner bar, to their girlfriends'.

How about invading their privacy and compromising their safety?

Then again, who knows what the Imam would do with the information.

He could denounce the situation, put it on YouTube, send it to every tinderbox in the Middle East.

Oh, here we go.

High-speed target.

Old lady with the walker, Nine o'clock.

Yeah, she's trouble.

(chuckles)

Deeks, did you see that?

See what?

Guy with the tan jacket just sprayed something on someone.

What? Let me see.

That's our guy.

Let's go.

DEEKS: Whoa, too late, Kensi.

Follow that cab.

Go, go, go!

So, by crosschecking exact page views with the time of day, politics in the morning, cricket at night.

And because people are painfully predictable in their Internet browsing, I matched this spoofed IP address and this IP address.

(computer trills)

Which is...

Brentstein & Associates, a small firm specializing in risk analysis.

We did it.

SAM: It would take a warrant and a day and a half to identify which computer.

By then, he'd have wiped his hard drive and been long gone.

Empty office?

Could access their employee list.

Interference?

(whispering): We've got company.

One more minute.

Uh, excuse me?

Could you help me out here?

Depends on what you need.

(laughs)

You're funny.

Uh, I'm looking for Alan.

He's an accountant.

I've decided I needed a numbers guy in my life.

Am I on the right floor?

There's no Alan here, and we're not accountants.

I'd suggest you try the directory in the lobby.

Oh, uh, wait.

You know what?

Maybe it wasn't Alan.

Adam...

SAM: Alex...

You getting this, Eric?

Got it. Running a broad-spectrum search.

Uh, Assan?

Nope.

(text alert chiming)

Great. Well, thank you.

Okay.

Oh, sorry. Sorry.

One more thing.

Um...

Yeah?

Do you have a restroom?

I... I have this condition.

Thank you.

(sotto voce): Better have a plan, G.

NELL: Hey, Eric. I think I got something.

Hector Cage, former Department of Homeland Security.

Worked on a bunch of boring stuff, boring stuff, and the early development team of USN6457.

That's the code name for Overwatch.

Waiting, Eric.

(Xerox machine whirring)

This is your plan?

I let you take lead, and ride shotgun, for this?

Xeroxing blank pieces of paper?

People only see what they want to see.

Dumb luck club.

ERIC: Callen, Sam, I think we got something.

Hector Cage. He's an analyst.

I'm sending you his photo now.

See? Good plan.

(chuckles)

Dumb luck.

Where's Hector's office?

Hector Cage?

We'd like to ask you some questions.

Whoa. What are you...?

We found the guy.

Huh. So did we.

You gotta be more careful, Hector.

Three years, Homeland Security computer department.

I need a doctor.

You saw a doctor.

I saw an EMT.

You're fine.

Got a clean bill of health.

You can answer questions.

Early development team, Overwatch.

According to your former boss, you had access to the prototype of the residue.

Then you moved on to Brentstein

& Associates, where you do...

Stochastic analysis of t*rror1st risk.

Which means that I...

Predict the chances of a random t*rror1st att*ck.

Insurance companies love you guys.

Buildings are targets.

Buildings need insurance.

Who do you think should be paying for all that risk?

CALLEN: Let's get back to where you hacked into classified m*llitary software.

One of the guys you tagged turned up dead.

Nice mosque.

(chuckles)

And his ID badge says he works at a hospital.

That is a grade "A" soft target.

Do you guys care at all if he espouses the destruction of America?

If we want your opinion, Hector, we'll visit your blog.

Right now, can we focus on where you were two nights ago.

I was at my computer at work, pulling an all-nighter.

It can be verified by multiple surveillance cameras and people.

Anything else, or...?

That's a nice spray bottle.

Do you do that one at a time?

That's a pretty time-consuming hobby.

(Sam chuckles wryly)

You are dangerously underestimating the t*rror1st thr*at level.

Privacy is history.

International flights, gone.

Five years, max.

Three years out, we are all gonna be tagged and monitored, and every inch of of every border's gonna have a guy with a g*n pointing out.

What a hopeful vision for the future.

Isn't stochastic analysis about random threats?

Yes.

How do you predict something that's random?

I think your job's making you crazy, Hector.

SAM: Crazier.

What do you think your employers are going to say when we tell them you've been breaching national security on company time?

You haven't broken the encryption.

Why do you say that?

Wouldn't be talking to me if you did.

Just looking at the data points here, guys.

You have a dead body, and you'd love to know where he's been.

I guess this is the part where you make a deal with me for the encryption code.

ERIC: The encryption codes you got from Hector Cage are working.

Eric, we need everything you've got on Yusef.

All right, pulling it up now.

Hector's alibi checks out.

The desktop cam matches the security cam, which matches the coworkers' statements, and the footage is stored off-site.

These guys are seriously paranoid.

Dead men don't walk.

Not unless it's Halloween.

Maybe someone should tell Yusef Afzal it's not Halloween.

NELL: Where does he think he's going?

Calwest Hospital? What?

Is he going back to work?

What's going on, Eric?

According to Overwatch, Yusef Afzal just entered the south entrance of Calwest Hospital.

Maybe the residue transferred subjects?

Maybe to his girlfriend?

Or to the k*ller.

Violent altercation?

Maybe they're the same person.

Eric, find Larissa Bay.

ERIC: Larissa Bay is scheduled to work today in the pediatric wing of the tower.

Kensi, Deeks, take Pediatrics.

Talk to us, Eric.

Looks like the target is headed for the North Wing.

I can't tell which floor.

Looks like the third.

No, no, no. The fourth.

Tracking's kind of spotty indoors.

NELL: Deeks?

Larissa just logged into her station on the pediatric floor.

ID and fingerprints are a match.

Ready?

Larissa?

Put your hands where we can see them.

What?

Guys, we got her.

Wait, the target's still in the North Wing, That's two wings away.

ERIC: Kensi, Deeks, the target is not Larissa.

What's going on?

What is this?

Our mistake. You're not the one we're looking for.

No kidding.

I'm sorry.

Eric, target status.

Where is he?

The target is in the North Wing.

ERIC: Okay, I've got you.

Callen, Sam, you are almost there.

Um, looks like the target is slowing down.

Uh, room 420, room 422.

Okay. He's stopping.

At the end of this corridor, take a right.

North Wing is Radiology.

Yusef spent the last two weeks there doing a software overhaul.

Now what, Eric?

Go down this hallway.

Make another right.

The target's still stopped.

You should have him.

WOMAN (over PA): Nurse Edna to Oncology.

Nurse Edna to Oncology.

Talk to me, Eric.

Wrong floor?

No. He's stopped.

He's 20 feet in front of you.

No, he isn't.

Where is he, Eric?

You're ten feet away.

You're five feet.

Guys, you're right next to him.

Air duct?

WOMAN (over PA): Neuropsych evaluation 20422.

Neuropsych evaluation 20422.

I'm getting a bad feeling about this.

(sighs)

Looks like we were chasing Yusef after all.

Eric, room 423. We need to get through this door.

ERIC: I'm on it.

They took the body for this iris scanner.

It was all about getting through this door.

SAM: Eric?!

It's a secure hospital door that needs an iris scan.

How easy do you want this to be?

So, you're not thinking...

We know one way in.

Oh, well, by all means, you should if you want to; I won't judge you.

It's not exactly the first choice.

Oh, so you want me to?

I didn't say that.

Oh, boy.

(beeping, door unlocks)

Thank you, Eric.

Go.

Eric, we have an empty shelf.

It has fluoro-dioxide glucose, Tositumomab...

And brachytherapy canisters.

What are these?

NELL: They're radiopharmaceuticals.

Guys, it's nuclear medicine.

If it was here, it's gone now.

Everything a t*rror1st needs to make a dirty b*mb.

Hetty's talking to the FBI, CIA and Vance.

I alerted LAPD-- they were obnoxious to me as always-- but they are all over it.

Also, we got nothing from those hospital surveillance videos.

Eric's monitoring the city's nuclear alert sensors.

Do we know exactly what was taken?

Yeah.

Four brachytherapy canisters-- enough material to contaminate several city blocks, depending on which way the wind is blowing.

Wouldn't cause mass causalities, but thousands of people would get sick.

That's not the real thr*at.

The real thr*at...

Is the first act of nuclear terrorism on American soil.

If this happens, nothing will ever be the same.

Radiation pagers-- registers nuclear material, in case we can get close enough.

It vibrates or beeps, depending on the setting.

Directional radiation detector.

State-of-the art Geiger counter.

This one has a mute button.

Ah. Give that one to Deeks.

ERIC: We got a hit-- a NEST sensor went off on the ten.

The NEST system-- AKA the Nuclear Emergency Support Team-- has sensors all across the country that go off when nuclear material crosses them.

Hospital's here, and the sensors went off here and here.

We confirmed the wavelength matched the missing material.

Then, 12 minutes later, the sensor went off here, and nothing since.

Which puts us...

In Venice.

Works for me.

Let's go.

(lively chatter)

(directional detector beeping)

Well, you'd think somebody would do our national security a favor and leave some of these bags at home.

DEEKS: I'm getting a low reading.

KENSI: Me, too.

I got something, but it's fluctuating.

He must be moving through the crowd.

CALLEN: Sam, you getting anything?

(rhythmic beeping)

Yeah, he's here.

This might be a buy, G.

Eric, you got eyes?

I got a traffic camera on the corner of Market, another on Main, a little fuzzy, and an LAPD dash-cam sitting near the entrance.

(beeping grows louder and faster)

Sam, what do we got?

(loud, rapid beeping)

(loud, rapid beeping)

(grunts)

(boxes and fruits clattering)

CALLEN: Kensi, Deeks, watch the crowd.

KENSI: Got it.

KENSI: Eric, do we have any other runners?

NELL: I might have someone.

Heading east on Main.

DEEKS: I got him, on my 3:00-- guy in a navy coat.

He's going.

He's going!

(panting)

(tires screeching)

(onlookers gasping, Kensi grunts)

(grunts)

(panting)

(panting)

Hey!

(grunts)

(panting)

(grunting)

(loud grunt)

(three g*nshots)

DEEKS: Oh!

You okay?

Yeah. Your timing is fantastic.

DEEKS: You recognize him?

He's one of the guys from the morgue.

(blow landing, woman screams)

Whoa! Easy.

Stay away!

Everybody get back!

Everybody get back!

I'll k*ll her, man!

Ahh!

Calm down.

(whimpering)

Calm down.

Take him, G.

(g*nsh*t, woman screaming)

(directional radiation detector beeping loudly and rapidly)

What are you thinking?

b*mb?

Trigger or timer?

The triggerman'd have to be nearby.

Timer could go off anytime.

We got to open it now.

We could call the b*mb squad.

It's a thought.

They might take too long to get here.

Flip for it?

I was the one reaching for Yusef's head.

That head is looking pretty good right now.

Don't blow us up.

It's not a b*mb.

He was here to sell it.

The buyer was here...

Somewhere.

We identified the two men.

Wendell Hertz and Jake Varley, both Canadian, both traffickers.

g*ns, cigarettes, prescription dr*gs.

Who graduated to dirty bombs.

No known political affiliations.

They seem to be in it for the money.

Oh, and...

Hertz had a PET-scan at Calwest Hospital the same day Yusef was updating the system software.

Orchestrated it to canvass the hospital.

They're looking for somebody with access.

Maybe thought Yusef was vulnerable because he was a Muslim.

Paid him a call to make a deal.

He refused, it got deadly, then he came up with the brilliant idea of going to the morgue and stealing Yusef's body.

What about the buyer?

ERIC: Unfortunately, it's buyers.

Several.

We hacked into Hertz's voice mail and some encrypted e-mails.

SAM: And?

We ran the voice mail through a beta version of Shibboleth-- it's an accent identifier-- and one of the buyers came up as mid-mountain regional.

Homegrown t*rrorists.

Surveillance cameras show anything?

Nothing yet.

We're running facial recognition on the lookey-loos, tracing license plates leaving the area.

We did find this.

It's a home security system on the canals.

You got footage of my tackle and my sweet right hook?

Oh!

No, no.

Where-where's the footage of the fight?

This is all I got.

(video rewinding)

SAM: Ow!

Nice move, Diesel.

D-Unit in the water.

Okay, that's hilarious.

That's where I sh*t the guy.

Where's the footage before this of the fight?

SAM: Whoa! D-Rock in the water!

You know where the footage is-- it's in here.

You know what it is?

Awesome.

All right.

I'm gonna go tell Hetty.

Hetty?

Hetty?

It could be him; I-I can't be sure.

Well, he had this on him.

Wha...?

It's the makings of a dirty b*mb.

Wow!

I mean... wow!

You should feel good.

(exhales)

I do. (nervous laugh)

Hey, so, I took your advice--

I-I tried to contact his next of kin.

Edgar, my coworker, who d*ed?

Right.

But he didn't seem to have a next of kin-- uh, well, kin-- and an unmarked grave, that just didn't seem right.

But then I'm, like, is he an "R. I. P." kind of guy or more "In Loving Memory"?

And I really didn't have anything to go on except that he really liked working here.

So, I thought maybe he'd like to stay.

I thought that I would cover all the bases, and now Edgar can be around the one place I know he loved.

Or liked.

I think.

Rose...

Edgar would have loved this.

(laughs)

Thanks.

(sighs)

That wasn't me.

I'm not accusing, I'm, uh, offering.

Congratulations are in order.

I'm not so sure about that.

There are still a lot of loose ends.

We don't know where the missing canister is.

It'll turn up.

That's what I'm afraid of.

That, Mr. Callen, is tomorrow's work.

Go get some rest.

Good night, Hetty.

Hey, Hetty.

No.

You don't even know what I was...

(chuckles): Absolutely not.

Did you check your in-box?

I redid the evaluations.

In that case...

Once.

All right.

On the count of three. One...

Wait, wait.

You haven't even stretched out.

...two...

You haven't even warmed up.

Three!

CALLEN: Damn it!

HETTY: I told you I was good.
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