02x16 - Empty Quiver

[bunniefuu]

(engines roaring)

(tires squealing)

(engines roaring)

(tires squealing)

Outran the cartel.

That's what I'm talking about.

Thought I was done there for a minute, huh?

California state taxi service ain't no joke.

Protect, serve and get paid, huh?

It better all be in there.

Of course it's all there.

Are you guys looking for another gig, huh?

Police escort.

It's my new way to floss, man.

What do you think...?

You're a grand short.

You make this right or I'll skin those tattoos off and hang 'em on the wall.

Ouch.

Last punch I took was on the playground in second grade.

And what was the name of this bully?

Stephanie Petersmark.

Hmm.

Girls punch boys they like.

I didn't.

(engine starts)

"I'll skin those tattoos off you and hang 'em on my wall"?

You must not recognize Scarface-level game when you hear it.

Never realized how much easier the bad guys have it than we do.

All the time.

No rules, no loyalty.

No Hetty.

Okay, Mr. Yakuza is tagged and ready for arrest at a later date.

A mere guppy in the sea of crime compared to the sharks we're after.

So if you weren't a boy puncher what was your strategy?

I ignored them.

(door bells jingle)

Paul, you here?

Paul, we got your cut of the Yakuza deal.

Paul?

(groaning weakly) Paul!

Hang in there, buddy.

Hang in there.

Paul.

Who did this?

I turned down a new job.

Going too far this time.

You stop 'em.

Stop who?

(exhales quietly)

Stop who, Paul?

Paul...

He's gone.

♪ NCIS: LA 2x16 ♪

Empty Quiver
Original air date on February 15, 2011>

(alarm blaring)

Is that an actual red alert?

I mean, are there battle stations now that need to be manned?

It's a text message.

(chuckles) It's a text message.

What was that look for?

You're... you're just, you're very, um...

Very what?

You're very tightly wound.

That's not true.

It's true, all right?

Your personal electronics are filled with intensity.

Is there something on your mind, Deeks?

No.

Is there?

No.

Didn't think so.

You always need to drive.

You set your clocks 15 minutes fast.

You set my clocks 15 minutes fast.

Everything is a competition.

You have to have separate checks at Starbucks.

You make fun of guys that order nonfat lattes.

Do you have any idea how exhausting it is being your partner?

Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to hear you ramble on about the 2012 apocalypse earlier this morning?

Not... not the apocalypse, okay?

It's the galactic realignment.

Geomagnetic reversal.

Time wave zero, all right?

It's the Niburu collision.

You may know it as b'ak'tun 13.

I think you mean "bake" tun 13.

"Bake-tun?" Really? "Bake-tun?"

Your Mayan accent is terrible.

Yeah, that's right, and you know why I know that?

Because astronomers were talking about it last night at the bar.

Astronomers were at the bar that you go to?

Mm-hmm.

The one that sells flavored condoms at the vending machine?

Why is that so hard for you to believe?

Okay, yeah, the bartender changed it to the Discovery Channel after the Lakers game, but it felt very real to me.

Good morning.

KENSI: Okay, Hetty, glad you showed up.

It's very difficult to take anything that guy says seriously.

Says the most serious person I've ever met in my entire life.

Okay, Deeks is a nice guy.

And Kensi is a nice girl, all right?

It's not her.

It's not him.

It's...

It's us.

Well, I don't believe it's a problem.

I'm hearing two people who are beginning to sound like partners.

Hi. Callen and Sam are waiting for you guys in the ops center.

And it's pronounced "ba-aak" tun 13.

Of course it is.

So nice of you to join us.

Sorry. Got held up.

Deeks thinks the world's going to end in 2012.

Let me guess...

Jenkins' theory on a Sagittarius-A black hole.

As a matter of fact, yes.

He's mocking you.

He's not mock...

SAM: An MP from Camp Pendleton suspect that Marines are working on something with some dirty cops.

It's a CHP crew.

They take bribes from criminals for armed escorts and smuggling.

The call themselves the California Gold Taxi Service.

LAPD calls them an urban legend.

LAPD's wrong. They're real.

Six months ago, we opened an undercover investigation.

Sam and I infiltrated the group, going in as corrupt cops.

We got inside, but we still have not been able to make a link between them and Pendleton.

Then the ringleader turned up dead this morning.

ERIC: His name's Paul Beane.

He left the CHP after surviving a motorcycle accident while on duty.

Left him paralyzed from the waist down.

He has a wife, but they maintain separate residences.

She's not considered a suspect.

Beane turned down a job.

Apparently somebody wanted to make sure he didn't talk.

Tight grouping, low caliber, no exit wounds.

Pros.

DEEKS: He's a retired cop.

He must have had somebody in the field... a point man.

Try point woman.

NELL: Officer Jennifer Grear.

She was Beane's partner until his accident.

He'd find the jobs, she'd pass on the orders to the California Gold Taxi Service cops.

They might have had a falling out.

If Grear didn't sh**t Beane, she might know who did.

So this op just shifted gears.

Something is about to go down.

It may or may not involve Marines at Pendleton.

But we need to figure out what it is and fast.

Grear's shift is coming up, so Sam and I are going to hit CHP headquarters and grab her.

You two search her house.

Done.

Got it.

You're giving me a look.

Us riding these bikes means we don't get to talk like we normally do.

Whereas normally we ride in your car and spend the whole time talking about nothing.

Calling our banter nothing?

Not nothing, but I wouldn't say that it qualifies as something.

Banter's the crux of our partnership, G.

Without it, we'd just be two guys with g*ns drifting from one case to the next.

We are two guys with g*ns drifting from one case to the next.

Some people seek a higher meaning.

Others play the hand they're dealt.

When did the glass become half empty?

Was it ever half full?

That's better.

Mm-hmm.

But I still want my car back, and these boots are k*lling me.

Exley, Powell.

Hey, did you see Grear inside?

Never clocked in.

Guess who's stuck pulling a double shift.

Tell her I'm only accepting apologies in the form of bourbon and cigars.

Am I really the most serious person you've ever met?

It's a tie between you and this nun back at school who used to whack my hand with a ruler.

All right, well, I'll have you know that I can be a very funny individual.

According to whom?

People.

Anyone I know?

Nell.

Nell thinks I'm hilarious.

Okay.

It's forced entry.

One, two, three.

Clear.

Clear.

This looks like a sh**t at the OK Corral.

Your instincts telling you anything?

Multiple sh**t.

Blood trail.

Come here.

Come this way.

Someone got hit about here.

And then they ran...

Impossible to say how far they made it.

If they made it.

So was it Grear?

Or somebody else?

ERIC: We analyzed spending patterns for both Paul Beane and Jennifer Grear over the past 24 hours.

NELL: And tried to establish a time line.

Turns out Beane frequented a club in Hollywood called Bare Elegance.

Credit card charges show he was there last night.

Bare Elegance...

Must be a strip club.

Bikini bar. Big difference.

SAM: What do we know about Grear?

She's got four credit cards all maxed out, and two bank accounts in overdraft status.

Officer Grear's mother is suffering from Alzheimer's.

Put her in a nursing home last year.

Wiped out her savings.

No one's seen Grear since Paul Beane's m*rder.

Well, she's either in hiding or she's dead.

Okay, Kensi and I volunteer to go check out the bikini bar in Hollywood.

Where did Grear's mother live before she moved to the nursing home?

A house in Van Nuys.

If she's tapped out, it's probably still on the market.

ERIC: Correct.

I'll drive, you banter.

Are you aware of the difference between bikini bars and strip clubs?

Yeah, of course. There's...

No. Is there...

Is there a difference? I've...

So let me get this straight: strip club...

No clothes, no booze.

Bikini bar...

Clothes, booze.

Correct.

And which do you prefer?

They both possess unique charms.

No, no, no, the apocalypse is tomorrow.

You got one last night.

That's a dilemma worthy of King Solomon.

♪ ♪

Bikini bar, yeah.

Bikini bar's definitely my pre-apocalyptic choice.

I don't know whether that makes me respect you more or less.

First date?

Oh, hi.

Uh, well, a girl can only do dinner and a movie so many times.

Yeah. She's cute, but her sense of humor needs work.

You have no idea.

So, a buddy of mine, he's always talking about this place.

Paul Beane. Yeah?

You know him?

Yeah. He's an ex-cop in a wheelchair.

We get CHP guys in here all the time.

It's half-off drinks if you show your badge.

Oh, well, he kept trying to get us to come here and meet him here last night.

Do you remember who he was with?

Ask him yourself.

I wish that I could.

Some guy came in here looking for him, and they got into it.

We tossed the other dude out.

What does he look like?

Forties.

Gold watch.

Kind of a frat boy look with a bully vibe.

We're gonna need access to all these security cameras.

Oh, those don't work.

I just put those in for show... deterrence.

What were Beane and this other guy arguing about?

Is Paul okay?

He was found dead this morning.

Oh, man...

No, I...

I didn't hear any details.

Just one thing.

Overgrown frat boy told Paul this was his last chance, and if he said no, that he'd k*ll him.

Thanks, Kensi.

Last night, Paul Beane's life was threatened.

Bar manager described him as an "overgrown frat boy."

He was wearing a gold watch.

Grear still ran, though.

So either she pulled the trigger or she's hiding from the people who did.

Could be here at her mom's house.

Nothing.

All right. I'll check...

(rapid g*nf*re)

Pull the trigger, Exley.

Isn't that what they're paying you for?

Easy!

Easy, Grear, easy!

Struggling's only gonna make it hurt worse.

Easy!

Don't move!

You're arresting me?

It's good to see you again, Grear.

Turn around.

You're not really CHP.

Always thought the boots looked funny on you.

Yeah.

Whoever k*lled Paul Beane came after you next.

You were wounded, but you managed to escape.

I'm not answering any questions until I see a lawyer.

SAM: Maybe we should just kick you out on the street.

Give 'em another chance to finish the job.

Or you could work with us, figure out who k*lled Paul.

What makes you think I care who k*lled Paul?

You were partners.

That doesn't mean anything.

Just a man and a woman with g*ns, drifting from case to case.

That it?

SAM: Most partners seek a higher meaning.

It helps them get through each day together.

I don't know who k*lled Paul.

And I don't know who came after me.

Did you get a look at the sh**t?

It happened fast.

They wore hockey masks.

Black ones.

Why would they want you dead?

Paul turned down the job.

The payoff was too big.

It made him nervous.

He said it involved m*llitary hardware.

Something serious.

So I told the rest of the guys to walk away from it.

m*llitary hardware's got to be the connection to Camp Pendleton.

Maybe that's where it started in the first place.

How long were you two seeing each other?

How'd you know?

Wedding ring.

Sometimes Paul wore it, sometimes he didn't.

I figured he was seeing someone who wasn't his wife.

Paul's marriage was falling apart.

None of the guys I dated got what I did for a living like he did.

Anyone else know?

No.

After the accident, it changed him.

He went to this dark place.

You used his connections to start the California Gold Taxi Service.

And you helped him.

I couldn't sell the house.

My mom's medical bills were adding up and...

I want to help you.

Call your California Gold crew, put out the word.

You got scared into taking the job.

Officers Exley and Powell are gonna handle it.

♪ ♪

How are you boys tonight?

As far as I'm concerned, any night off duty is a good night.

Half-off drinks...

But not tips.

He's buying.

(chuckles)

You bummed you're stuck here with me?

Nah, it's for the best.

I can't go undercover in places like this anymore.

All the dancers know and love me.

Must be your dashing personality.

It's not my money.

Right.

I have mystique.

And by "mystique" I don't mean the brunette dancer inside the bar...

Real name Kimberly.

Yay. Congratulations.

A go-go dancer told you her real name.

Patience, Kensi.

And by "Patience" I don't mean the redhead that goes on at 10:00 tonight...

Real name Jessica.

Whoa.

What?

That might be our guy right there, chatting up the bouncer.

Frat-boy looks, flashy gold watch.

Sam, Callen, I think we got eyes on our man.

DEEKS: He's on his way in now.

Got him, Deeks.

SAM: He's got an entourage.

I'm Steve Brenner.

Exley.

Powell.

California Gold Taxi Service speaks very highly of you two.

Never heard of it.

Heard you were asking about Jennifer Grear at the CHP motor pool earlier today.

Her old partner was m*rder*d this morning.

Paul Beane.

Never heard of him.

Sounds like we're running out of things to talk about.

Maybe you should leave before things get awkward.

We're in a bikini bar.

No such thing as awkward.

Hear me out.

CALLEN: You got 10 seconds.

Nine...

Eight...

Seven, six...

I need a couple CHP cops to pull off a job.

Word on the street is you two don't scare easy.

What's the pay?

50 grand. Each.

What do we gotta do?

Black Range Rover driving to Los Angeles from Vegas tomorrow.

Fire up some flares.

Create a roadblock.

Pull the driver out, give him a ticket.

Take him in for resisting arrest.

Once he's locked up, you get paid.

What's his name?

It's not important.

You want us to arrest the right guy, we're gonna need a name.

(sighs)

Phil Crombie.

Ex-con.

Business rival of mine.

I need him off the street so I can complete a deal.

What if we say no?

Ask Paul Beane and Jennifer Grear how that worked out for them.

We're in.

I'll be in touch, gentlemen.

SAM: He didn't mention m*llitary hardware or Pendleton.

What is this really about?

Sounds like we're about to find out.

CALLEN: Took these at the club last night. Recognize them?

None of these guys are CHP.

They the ones that came after you?

They wore hockey masks.

Could be them.

Could be someone else.

CALLEN: You regret getting involved now?

State's running out of money.

CHP's broke.

You got good cops being forced into early retirement.

There's no such thing as overtime anymore.

We didn't think it would come to this.

But it did.

Look, I'm not proud of the California Gold Taxi Service, but guys were losing their houses.

Yeah.

I regret it.

I think Paul regretted it, too.

Tell us more about the guys who tried to k*ll you.

They're good. Trained.

Like cops?

Like m*llitary.

ERIC: So "Steve Brenner" is an alias.

His real name's Justin Marchetti.

Did nine years in federal prison for running a Ponzi scheme.

Some people thought he was a Wall Street savant until $20 million of his clients' money disappeared.

Mostly retirement funds and life savings.

His buddies are all former French m*llitary... GIGN.

SAM: That's an elite counterterrorist unit.

Their services don't come cheap.

And what do we have on Phil Crombie, the guy Marchetti wants us to stop?

ERIC: He did a dime in Folsom for drugrafficking.

Released last year.

Currently employed by a restaurant in Santa Monica.

KENSI: What, did he graduate from narcotics to m*llitary hardware?

(cell phone ringing)

It's got to be Marchetti.

All right.

Ready to start the trace.

Peter Exley.

MARCHETTI: The Range Rover will be passing Marker 447 on Route 138 at exactly 4:00 p.m.

You sure Crombie's on board?

He's driving.

Don't screw it up.

(line disconnects) No.

He's using an encrypted sat phone. Not even close.

CALLEN: We need to figure out if we're dealing with narcotics or m*llitary hardware.

Go back to Paul Beane's garage.

See if anything turns up.

We're on it.

I've queried officials at Camp Pendleton and numerous agencies.

There is no other operation in play at this time.

Mr. Callen, Mr. Hanna, we still don't know what we're getting ourselves into here.

Please, be careful.

Hopefully, this guy Crombie can fill in some of the blanks.

SAM: Black Range Rover. Here we go.

License and registration.

(truck horn blasting)

Got off the phone with Phil Crombie's boss.

He just showed up for work at the restaurant.

Callen, Sam, Crombie is not the one in that Range Rover.

Sam.

What's the problem, Officer?

Nothing personal.

(man groaning)

♪ ♪

CALLEN: They're wearing body armor!

You okay?

Vest took the hit.

They're Marchetti's guys.

Don't you say it.

You're welcome.

(distorted): Come on! Let's go!

♪ ♪

(gasping)

I. D. card from the Department of Energy.

sh**t used plastic expl*sives to level your bikes.

Probably think the blast finished you guys off.

Where's the trailer?

Tracked it with satellite imagery.

Range Rover and trailer were dumped a half mile away.

Found three more bodies.

Department of Energy security detail riding in back with the cargo.

Department of Energy?

Took all of ten minutes for these guys to become ghosts.

Found these scattered on the floor of the Range Rover they left behind.

Some kind of fruit.

Teen bil kater.

Candy-coated figs from the Middle East.

Doesn't track.

Marchetti's guys are French; they're not Arab.

Counterterrorist operatives don't become jihadists overnight.

Hey, uh, so Beane's garage was a dead end.

You guys okay?

Yeah.

Could you repeat that?

MAN (on phone): Empty Quiver.

Empty Quiver.

MAN: That's correct.

Indeed.

Empty Quiver, ladies and gentlemen.

What does, what does Empty Quiver mean?

Empty Quiver is a Pentagon term.

It refers to the loss or theft of a functioning nuclear w*apon.

They stole a nuke?

What, and D. O. E.

Just decided to take it on a road trip?

They ship trailers like this across the highways every day.

The idea is to be low-profile.

They're unmarked and manned by former Special Forces operators.

No one's been any the wiser... until today.

HETTY: The trailer contains a warhead en route to refurbishment.

We were not informed because of the sensitive nature of the cargo.

What's the yield?

100 kilotons.

Five times the power of the one that leveled Hiroshima.

CALLEN: And how is the Department of Energy handling this?

HETTY: Discreetly.

If the media discovered, it would be panic.

Nuclear Emergency Support Teams have been deployed to scour the area for its radioactive signature.

If these guys wanted to set off a nuke, why haven't they done it already?

You need a nuclear physicist to arm it and trigger the detonation.

HETTY: Mr. Callen.

Mr. Hanna.

A word.

HETTY: The blame game has begun.

High-level officials interested in covering their own asses.

They're demanding to know why the two NCIS agents on the scene weren't able to prevent the incident.

The, uh, word "investigation" has already been bandied about.

It's pretty meaningless, given what's at stake.

And politicking isn't our job.

Oh, no, Mr. Hanna.

It's mine!

You don't have to protect us.

Oh, yes, I do.

And I've feared for years that a day would come when I wouldn't be able to.

I hope this isn't it.

There is only one solution.

Recover the warhead before it can be used.

We just received a video.

White House received this five minutes ago.

They're keeping it under wraps.

Don't want to create panic.

Well, there's the warhead.

Says "Pan-Islamic Brotherhood" in Arabic.

CALLEN: Never heard of them.

Neither have I.

MAN: Speak!

I'm... Dr. Delia Richards.

I'm a nuclear physicist.

These men have a nuclear warhead in their possession.

They're forcing me to arm it.

(man shouting)

(man speaks Arabic)

"Judgment Day has arrived.

"In three hours, the American people will feel the fear of not knowing who will die or when."

Three hours from now is 6:30 a.m.

Video doesn't specify a target.

Nell.

Dr. Delia Richards.

Mm-hmm.

NELL: Okay...

Employed by Golden State Tech.

Formerly employed by Trecdel Electronics.

The weapons manufacturer.

ERIC: Worked in R&D at their Maryland plant.

Cutting-edge tech.

She was originally recruited by the Department of Energy out of school, but went private sector instead.

Specializes in applied physics, not theoretical.

Which means...

She can arm the warhead.

Must be why they chose her.

Since when do Wall Street guys start working with Wahhabi Muslims?

Marchetti's guy don't match the profile for martyrs.

Something's off.

Tell Golden State Tech security we need full access to Dr. Richards's office.

ERIC: Sam, I checked it out.

There's nothing on the NEST sensors.

KENSI: Signs of struggle.

I'll keep looking.

SAM: Thanks, Eric.

NEST teams are drawing a blank.

A nuke signature has to be more radioactive than anything else around it or else detection equipment can't find it.

Well, LA's filled with things that throw sensors off.

We're talking buildings, vehicles, even people.

So what's the best way to transport a nuke without getting caught?

Bananas.

Lots of bananas.

Bananas are high in potassium.

Potassium's radioactive.

If I was hiding a nuke, I'd hide it in a truck loaded full of them.

Fooling the sensor by creating a false positive.

One look inside, they're gonna wave it along.

CALLEN: Sam...

It's two radiuses.

The first one measures a blast originating in downtown LA.

The second one measures the effects of a nuclear fallout.

We need to tell Hetty.

No.

Not yet.

What?

Hetty will have to inform the Pentagon.

They'll start to evacuate the city.

What if that's exactly what Marchetti wants?

Guys who are capable of pulling off a hijacking operation like that don't accidentally forget their maps.

Yeah. Classic misdirection.

Okay, so if we're right, the last thing we have to worry about is an att*ck in Los Angeles in...

Two hours and 11 minutes.

What if we're wrong?

Delia Richards?

I don't know that name.

I've seen her.

At a bar...a month ago.

She want to meet to talk about a potential California Gold Taxi Service job.

I drove Paul to meet her.

Waited in the car outside.

You sure it was her?

Paul and I were sleeping together.

He meets up with a woman who looks like this.

I'd take notice.

He say what the job was about?

No. But whatever it was, it shook him up.

He wouldn't give me any details.

He said that the woman gave him stock tips.

Told him to sell everything in his portfolio and put it in gold and silver.

ERIC: We dug into Delia Richards' finances.

Over the past five years, she made a small fortune in the stock market as a day trader.

Her equities were handled by an investment firm whose address is a P. O. Box in the Cayman Islands.

Now, it's rented by a woman who used to work for Justin Marchetti's old hedge fund.

So what's the connection between a day-trading physicist, an ex-con money manager, and a stolen nuke?

You found a map of Los Angeles with nuclear blast radiuses marked off, and you kept it from me?

I made a judgment call.

If we told you about it, you would have been bound to report it to the Pentagon.

I'm the one who decides whether or not we fulfill these obligations, Mr. Callen.

I don't need your protection!

I need your trust!

And I need your help.

Marchetti is trying to play us.

To what end?

That's exactly what we were just about to ask you.

The video said something is going to happen at 6:30 a.m.

That's one hour from now.

What happens at that time in L. A.?

Start of rush hour.

A better question may be: what happens on the East Coast, where it will be 9:30 a.m.?

The New York Stock Exchange opens for trading.

t*rror1st att*cks cause panic.

In times of panic, people sell off their stocks.

The market plummets.

What happened on 9/11?

Everyone dumped their airline stocks.

But a small group of people sold their airline shares short the day before and made a fortune.

Marchetti's got a t*rror1st att*ck at his fingertips.

He doesn't even have to detonate the nuke.

The thr*at alone would be enough to crash the market.

If the public even thinks jihadists stole that warhead, it'll cause mass hysteria.

Well, the video hasn't gone wide yet.

And the man isn't a jihadist.

He's sitting on inside information that could make him billions.

All he has to do is release that video, sit back, and watch the market do his bidding.

It'll be like the real estate crash all over again, except it'll be every business all on the same day at the same time.

(phone rings)

Yes, Eric.

Hetty, we found what we were looking for on Marchetti.

You guys need to look at this.

Bingo.

Dug up all real estate holdings on Steve Brenner, aka Justin Marchetti.

Last month he acquired a factory called Festive Ceramics.

They produce dishes and plates.

NELL: Paint used on ceramics contains high amounts of uranium...

Harmless but highly radioactive.

Any factory using it registers off the charts in the eyes of the detection equipment.

Marchetti created a false positive, the perfect smokescreen to hide the nuke.

There's not much time until the New York Stock Exchange opens.

We need to move on that factory now.

The sh**t that h*jacked that trailer are going to be there.

Anything we should know about them?

They're not the type to stop when you yell "freeze."

Mr. Callen...

Lethal action has been authorized.

Sentries are down.

(g*nsh*t, man groans)

Very personal.

You're welcome.

Sam, someone just accessed the video on this laptop.

It could have been uploaded.

I've got the mirroring app up and running.

What are you seeing, Eric?

Video footage hasn't been streamed anywhere yet, but they uploaded a copy to a flash drive.

(truck engine starts)

Kensi, take him!

Driver and passenger are down.

Seven down, one man left.

In there, using the nuke for cover.

Don't miss.

(groans)

Hetty, Empty Quiver is secure.

Need to stop this video, Eric.

Video is already in the cloud.

The autorun script executable is about to go live.

I am almost there.

SAM: Eric!

(two beeps)

Whew!

Video has been disabled, guys.

What did you just do?

I used a VNC controller to piggyback the upload with a Trojan and corrupt the streaming data packets by initiating the stack buffer overflow.

In English, Mr. Beale.

Oh. I broke the Internet.

Help me!

You okay?

Mm-mm.

MARCHETTI: Drop it.

Sorry, it ain't over yet.

Okay.

You're going to have trouble sh**ting me with that safety on.

That's going to leave a mark.

Get over there!

I got a question for you.

Is it true all Wall Street guys are born losers, and they get rich to compensate?

Well...

Ha! That's rhetorical.

You're a loser.

And you...

You looked a lot better on camera, sweetheart.

Oh, hey, guys, what did Eric do with the video?

He shut down the Internet.

What, the whole Internet?

SAM: Yeah.

DEEKS: Even Twitter?

Whoa.

What happens now?

CHP has taken over the case.

It's not our call.

But they know you helped us.

Did you get him...

The guy who k*lled Paul?

We got him.

♪ ♪

NELL: So...

Turns out Marchetti was paying off an intelligence officer at Camp Pendleton.

That's how he knew the route the warhead was taking.

That makes sense.

Nell, is it true that you described Kensi as "hilarious"?

I'm sorry, what?

You don't remember that time?

Uh, what time?

The time that... Nell, come on, the time...

Oh, right, that time, of course.

KENSI: It was funny, it was funny because...

(forced laughter)

I just replay it in my head and...

(guffawing)

Oh! Great.

In the future I will, uh...

I will try to take things more seriously.

Well, I... I will try and lighten up.

I'd like that.

I would like that, too.

You do me a favor, though?

Yeah.

Don't ever laugh like that again.

It was terrifying.

Eh.