04x09 - The Gold Standard

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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04x09 - The Gold Standard

Post by bunniefuu »



(tires squealing, horn honks)

(tires squealing)

(horn honks)

Yo, we good up there?

(beeping)

DRIVER: That's a b*mb! We got to go!

No! Stay in the truck.

(panicked screams, clamoring)

216 under a*t*matic g*nf*re.

Possible robbery attempt.

Send backup immediately.

WOMAN (over radio): Copy that.

Hurry, they're coming in.

(clown grunting in pain)

(engine revving, tires squealing)

(crowd screaming)

♪ NCIS: LA 4x09 ♪

The Gold Standard
Original air date on December 11, 2012



After action reports?

You were supposed to help me with this.

I told you to call me.

I did.

What time?

About half past you ignoring me because you didn't want to do this again.

KENSI: Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Understatement of the year.

I'm so sorry, Sam, but I will take it from here.

Save it. I'm already done.

I was supposed to carpool with Deeks, but he never showed up.

I will do them next time, I promise.

Me, too. I owe you one.

You both will excuse me if I don't hold my breath.

There's a serious lack of professionalism around here.

Yeah, speaking of, where is Deeks?

Arms trafficker Nelson Sanders has been implicated on additional charges.

Deeks has been called in to testify.

The guy his buddy Ray helped put away?

Who says this isn't a cr*ck team of investigators?

In Detective Deeks' absence, I will accompany you into the field if necessary, Agent Blye.

Oh, no, no.

I don't want you to have to do that.

You know I would love to learn the ropes from a grizzled veteran such as yourself.

"Grizzled veteran, " Ms. Blye?

Um, what I meant was that...

The extensive years of experience...

"Extensive years."

You don't think I can hack it in the field, do you, Agent Blye?

What I meant was...

It would be my honor to ride along with you, sir.

Good.

(Eric whistling a reveille)

Eric, please.

What is this, boot camp?

See you in a little bit.

Are you not coming?

I'm the assistant director.

I've been briefed.

Of course.

NELL: A heist crew wreaked havoc at the LA Live Entertainment Center today, knocking over an armored truck.

Thanks to traffic cams and the smart phone revolution, we've got plenty of footage of what went down.

They used the tourist traffic to their advantage.

Looks like the circus is in town.

SAM: These guys are pros.

Fast, organized, and ruthless.

Fortunately, one of the guards inside the truck survived, despite suffering a head wound.

What was the cargo?

100 Good Delivery gold bars, the type used in major international markets, central banks, and the IMF.

The bars were en route from the Federal Reserve to the People's Bank of China.

How much we talking?

ERIC: The gold bars weigh 12.4 kilos.

At $1, 750 an ounce...

That's $700, 000 a bar or roughly...

$70 million.

(shudders)

Just got a gold rush.

What are we buying?

Time.

The gold is an interest payment on a trillion dollar plus loan we have with China.

If we can't recover it, well, let's just say we don't want them to repossess Hawaii.

MAN: So we'll keep you posted, okay?

Thanks.

Okay.

What do you think?

I think you got to have some big ones to pull off a heist like this in the middle of the day.

Yeah, no joke.

You find anything useful?

Not yet. You?

They had to have left something.

ATM, traffic, security cams-- it's an odd location for a heist.

There's more surveillance than LAX.

The motor home stops here.

Blocks off the armored car.

Bozo bounds from the curb.

Captain Sparrow wannabe points his as*ault r*fle, then monkey boy pulls up the cargo van.

Pretty sure it was actually a gorilla.

Monkeys usually have tails.

They can't swing from branch to branch like apes can.

They also can't drive a cargo van.

I saw one drive a motorcycle one time, so he probably could.

And I knew one that worked in a bar in Huntington Beach who could make a martini.

I'm not saying it was a good martini.

We got blood.

He could have jumped into their car or grabbed a cab.

Or dumped his disguise and lost himself in the crowd.

Aw, damn!

You got to be kidding me.

What?

I hate clowns.

Yep, not nearly as funny when they're dead, are they?

This clown is Clive Mayfield.

He's a well-known criminal who's bounced around the country with a number of different heist crews.

He did time for armed robbery at USP Atlanta.

We put together a list of former associates, some of whom are from the LA area.

Hopefully one or more were involved in the heist and can lead us to the gold.

What's the word on the guard he sh*t?

Lucky. Hospital says he's up and around.

Kensi's on her way to talk to him.

Well, hopefully he can tell us something.

Sam and I will run down Clive Mayfield and his criminal buddies.

Maybe we'll get lucky, too.

Uh, where is Sam?

He's... dealing with something.

Coulrophobia.

Fear of clowns?

Is that even a real thing?

It is with Sam.

Weird.

Oh, yeah.

You don't, uh, have any irrational phobias I should know about, do you?

Well...

Do you think hand puppets are creepy?

Not particularly.

Yeah, me neither.

Ventriloquist dummies, on the other hand...

Creepy, right?

Totally.

I used to have this nightmare when I first started working here.

It's the middle of the night.

I'm here all alone.

I come up to Ops...

And there's somebody sitting in the shadows.

And I can't see their face 'cause they're...

They're turned away from me, but I can tell that there's...

There's something in their lap, and I want to run, but I can't.

And slowly they turn around, and I see what they're holding.

It's...

Hetty.

The Treasury Department is about to have a China Syndrome meltdown.

So if you don't want your paychecks to bounce this week...

I suggest you forgo story time and get cracking.

We are... cracking.

cr*ck, cr*ck, cracking.

(chuckles)

That was weird.

Do you two need to be separated?

No.

No.

SAM (muffled): Federal agents!

Clear.

Looks like Clive Mayfield left in a hurry.

Yeah, $70 million, I'd be on my way to my own private island.

What, you don't spend enough time alone?

You know what I'm gonna do?

I'm gonna buy you a yacht, so you can come visit me.

Make it a private jet and I just might.

You'd buy a jet?

No, I'd make you buy me a jet.

I'd open up an auto body shop.

$70 million, and you're gonna become a mechanic?

Auto science specialist.

It's a calling.

I'd open a place where people could go without getting ripped off.

Yeah, no need for cars on the island.

What, you and Gilligan gonna build a bike out of coconuts?

Think there's anything in there?

Nope.

What, is this for hamsters or something?

Only if they're food.

This is for a snake.

By the size of this t*nk, I'd say a big one.

You think the owner took it with him?

I sure as hell hope so.

You seen enough?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah.

G?

It's okay.

Just a false alarm.

(indistinct announcement over P. A.)

Jack?

Jack Williams?

Yeah, that's what they're telling me.

I'm Special Agent Blye.

I was hoping to talk to you about the robbery this morning.

I watched it on the news but I... I still don't remember it.

It's not unusual in traumatic situations.

Yeah, they said that, too.

They also said I'm lucky to be alive, but...

I don't feel too lucky.

You may feel it's insignificant, but any little detail that you could recall from this morning's heist would be useful.

Accent of the thieves, jargon they used, even the smell of their cologne would be helpful.

They say I k*lled a man.

And I don't remember f*ring my g*n.

I don't remember anything.

You see that woman and those kids?

They say that's my wife and-and children.

But I don't recognize them.

I'm sorry.

No, I'm... I'm-I'm sorry.

Look, I'd like to help you, but I can't.

And to be honest, I...

All I want to do right now is just remember who the hell I am.

Okay.

Jack...

When you do remember something.

Well?

He says he doesn't remember anything.

You believe him?

Sounds pretty convincing.

That heist was pretty damn slick.

It'd pay to have a man on the inside.

They sh*t him in the head.

What better way to cover your tracks.

That would explain the sudden amnesia.

Put a guard on him.

In case he runs?

Or they come back and finish the job.

Copy that.

So, I'll see you back at Ops?

Nice try-- you're my ride.

Besides, you and I could use some quality time.

Awesome.

(phone ringing)

Yeah, what do you got, Nell?

I got a hit on a clown costume.

Yeah, pass that one on to Kensi.

She can check it out on her way back.

Also, can you run a search of recent purchases of snake supplies in the area?

What kind of snake?

A big one.

NELL: Okay.

Thanks.

I know it's irrational.

I didn't say anything.

(electronic door bell chimes)

Assistant Director, do you not trust me to handle this on my own?

Don't like being under the microscope, Agent Blye?

No, it's not that--

Because you are.

What?

I'm kidding.

Okay, you're a very busy man.

I'm just maintaining protocol, Agent Blye.

Don't take it personally.

Besides, performance reviews are due.

Oh...

Great choice.

Comes with tear-away trousers, bow tie, collar, cuffs.

Six-pack not included.

But we should have your size.

Nothing like a little role-play to spice up the bedroom.

We're Federal agents.

I don't judge.

Uh, yesterday we had a couple nuns in here, bought leather cat suits.

All right, that's just weird.

You sold some costumes to a guy a few days ago: a gorilla, a clown, a pirate...

No refunds, exchange only.

We don't need a refund-- we need some answers.

Do you recognize this guy?

Nope.

You recognize him in your costume?

No exchanges once it's worn.

That guy's dead.

No exceptions.

Who bought the costume?

It wasn't the guy who was wearing it?

Look...

I sell a lot of costumes.

I'm still restocking from Halloween.

Okay, we're gonna need your credit card records then.

(scoffs) Transaction fees are m*rder on a small business owner-- cash only.

Fine, we'll take your surveillance tapes.

40 bucks.

We're not buying them from you, we're Federal Agents.

Okay, 20 bucks.

How about we shut your shop down for running a meth lab out of the basement?

Meth lab?!

There's no meth lab here.

Uh, there's no basement here.

Maybe not, but can a small business owner such as yourself survive the red tape?

Hm?

I'll be right back.

Wonderful.

"Grizzled vet, " huh?

Meet Duncan Welch, full-time criminal, part-time pirate.

His rap sheet reads like a companion piece to our dead clown Clive Mayfield.

Do you think these guys pick out their own costumes?

Like, maybe two of 'em wanted to be the pirate, and then one of 'em's like, "I called it, " and the other one's like, "You always get to be the pirate.

I never get to be the pirate."

And the other one's like, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, "you got to be the pirate last time.

"This time I'm gonna be the pirate, and you get to be the clown, sucker."

Just, you know, thinking maybe their choice of disguise might give you some insight into these guys.

Psychological profiling through costume choice?

Sounds silly when you say it like that.

NELL: No, it's...

It's an interesting theory, but I think it might just be...

Easier to check his last known address.

Uh, 1274

Hillcrest Road, Sylmar.

Or you could do that.

Thank you, guys.

Mm-hmm.

If I robbed a bank, I'd totally be the cowboy.

You?

Well, I...

Wouldn't rob a bank, but, clearly, you've given this some thought.

(scoffs)

(engine roaring, tires screeching)

Federal agents!

All clear.

Looks like they were ex*cuted.

Is that everyone?

Everyone but Duncan Welch, the guy we're looking for.

He was here.

KENSI: Nell and Eric confirmed the I. D.s of the heist crew.

We have Patrick Rodgers, Derrick Stovall, and Marcus Terry.

Duncan Welch took the gold, k*lled his buddies.

KENSI: It's easier to divide by one than by four.

Five.

Still need to find Duncan and the cargo van driver.

KENSI: Okay.

I'll put out a BOLO: male, six feet tall, dark hair...

Covering his entire body, partial to bananas...

Duncan's partner in the double cross?

Well, unless there's another Dumpster out there with a dead monkey in it.

Gorilla.

Apparently monkeys have tails.

Okay. Well, according to his bank records, Duncan Welch was spending a lot of money before the heist.

Confident man.

Either that or someone was bankrolling the heist.

Someone who's willing to piss off the Treasury Department and the Chinese government.

What was he buying?

Um, that's where it gets interesting.

KENSI: Check this out.

Lots of dinners, jewelry, women's lingerie.

Sounds like Duncan's got a girlfriend.

Or a cross-dressing fetish.

Hey, we know he likes to dress up.

You got his phone records?

KENSI: Yes, I do.

CALLEN: Hello, Gloria Bryant.

Could be a business associate.

From 9:00 a.m.

To 7:00 p.m., maybe.

But from midnight to 3:00 a.m.-- that's a booty call.

Well, you know, when two people call each other in the middle of the night and they're lonely and they want to...

Is that what that's called?

I'm gonna shut up now.

Have an address, I got this.

Uh-huh.

I'm gonna go.

Ms. Blye?

Let me guess: more quality time?

No, I was gonna say be safe, but...

I can join you if you like.

No, no.

I'm good.

I'm out.
Gloria Bryant?

Federal agent.

Um...

It's okay.

I'm looking for Duncan Welch.

GLORIA: Oh, uh...

I haven't seen him.

Which, unfortunately, is par for the course.

He just disappears without a word and then...

Pops back up like nothing's wrong.

Men.

Yeah, right?

I mean, I just figured he was seeing somebody else.

Never thought it was something illegal.

Gran Gran loved him.

Is that your grandmother?

Uh, yeah.

He'd sit with her sometimes during her game shows.

Aw. Do you know where I can find him?

No.

Although I might know somebody who might.

He used to go fishing with his buddy, Oki.

Lives in Ojai.

I might have, like, a birthday card or something with his return address.

Great.

I'll go get it.

Thanks.

Gran Gran would be so disappointed right now.

Where's Duncan?

I don't know.

And yet you ran.

Do you recognize any of these men?

Oh, my God.

No.

No?

Well, I'll give you a hint.

They all had two things in common.

One, they were all friends of Duncan.

Two, as you can see, they're all dead.

Now that means that either Duncan is a m*rder*r, or he's next on the k*ller's list, do you understand that?

That means he's in serious trouble, and the only way you can help him is if you tell me where he is.

(sipping)

Are you going to tell me?

Tell you what?

(chuckles)

Oh, you've gotten better.

I'll grant you that.

I had a good teacher.

You're in my house now, Owen.

I hope you don't truly believe that, Henrietta.

He's not an NCIS agent.

Then he really isn't your concern, is he?

So much for our detente.

Are we done?

He may not be NCIS, but Mr. Deeks is one of my team.

If anything should happen to him, I would take it most personally.

Duncan Welch?

Federal agents!

Hands where we can see them.

Got a body.

SAM: He bled out.

Looks like hours.

(crash, then clattering)

Guys?

Apparently this is the end of the rainbow.

Always thought it'd be a little more festive.

HETTY: Well done.

Assistant Director Granger called to congratulate all of you on solving the case so quickly.

There's still one person unaccounted for.

We still don't know if he was Duncan's partner in all this or if he k*lled Duncan and the others.

Well, take it from me, they were more concerned about their precious gold.

Ms. Blye, with me.

Something's not right.

That was too easy.

We're good, but we're not that good.

Whoever k*lled Duncan left him with the gold.

Why?

He was at death's door.

The sh**t could have casually hauled away the gold.

Why not take it?

We could've spooked him.

Got there before they had a chance.

Or maybe they wanted us to find it.

(drill whirring)

(drill stops)

Tungsten.

It's bogus.

Tungsten: It's the 74th element on the periodic table.

Its name derives from the Swedish tung sten, meaning "heavy stone."

Uh, its chemical symbol is a "W" because it was formerly known as wolfram.

AKA my favorite element.

Nell's is ununoctium.

Don't.

SAM: Ah...

Young geek love.

But I digress.

NELL: Tungsten and gold are similar in weight, making it the perfect counterfeit substance.

Well, who would want to steal fake gold?

SAM: Maybe they didn't know, or maybe it wasn't fake.

Whoever stole it pulled a switch.

Okay, well, then where's the real gold?

Comes back to the cargo van driver.

CALLEN: If they melted the real gold to coat more bars of tungsten...

You could duplicate the gold bars several times over.

Turning millions into billions before anyone got caught.

Why didn't I think of that?

Um, so I could solve the case.

I'm not a thief.

Is there something we should know about you, Eric?

(clears throat)

Uh, what do you, what do you got for us, Nell?

Anyway...

Tungsten is about 50 bucks a kilo and the gold bars are 12.4 kilos each, so we're talking about a loof weight.

Eric, we're gonna need to know who's been buying tungsten.

And we're gonna need somewhere where we can smelt it.

(snickering)

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

It's just, like, one of those words.

I can't explain it.

Well, I will investigate the smelting operation.

(laughing): Smelting.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I just can't explain it.

Mr. Callen? A word.

You know there's more going on here than catching a thief.

You mean how this could affect our economy?

If it were to get out that America's gold reserves were compromised, it would wreak havoc on our banking system.

I'm wondering if that's been the plan all along.

If it is, we're not looking for a heist crew.

This could be an economic t*rror1st att*ck.

How's the world gonna react if we try to pay off a debt to China using fake gold?

Not very well indeed.

So who benefits from sowing discontent between two superpowers?

Exactly.

Who and why is just as important as finding the gold.

The country's already facing a fiscal challenge.

If this were to get out, it could destroy the economy once and for all.

Wolfram, you get any hits on the tungsten?

Too many to count.

I'm trying to narrow it down.

What about the smelting?

(snorts, snickers)

(chuckling): Smelting.

How is it that you find "smelting" to be so funny and "frelting" to be absolutely horrifying?

Did you find anything?

No, uh, not on the furnace, but have you heard of the Reptile Super Show?

Yeah.

It's in Pomona next month.

It's, like, world's largest.

I'm sorry, you know this how?

Yeah, I went with my ex...

(clears throat): With my friend.

Oh. Interesting.

So, what, is it like a dog show?

Do they dress their lizards up in little outfits and parade 'em around a ring?

No, and there's no outfits in dog shows either.

We only do that to children.

Great.

Well, short of being a herpetologist, I never understood the allure of owning a snake.

You don't like pets?

I mean, shouldn't a pet be something you can, I don't know, pet?

Hence the name.

You can pet a snake.

Can if you wanted to.

Do snakes like being petted?

This just took a really weird turn, didn't it?

Yeah.

I'm think I'm gonna go catch up with the guys.

But maybe we should run a multivariable search where you cross-reference the tungsten with the smelting facilities?

(snickers)

(laughs)

Sorry.

Yeah.

(snickering)

Agent Blye, how did it go with Gloria Bryant?

She tried to give me the slip, "tried" being the operative word, but you're the Assistant Director.

I'm sure you've been briefed, sir.

Touché. Any new leads?

Yes. There are some details that need to be run down.

Hopefully, they'll pan out.

All right, good job.

Keep me posted.

Oh, uh, I hope I get that gold star in my performance review, sir.

P-Rs are below my pay grade.

Oh. But before, you said that...

Disregard that.

Okay, then what was all that ride-along, quality-time stuff all about?

Just keeping you on your toes.

Think of it more as an evaluation.

For...?

I'm an ambitious man, Agent Blye, who won't be Assistant Director forever, and you need to think about the future.

You never know.

Good luck with the case.

I just had the strangest encounter with Granger.

Everything about Granger is strange, if you ask me.

What do you have?

Um, a cargo van was stolen from a rental lot in Toluca Lake last month.

Surprise, surprise.

Hey, Sam, do you still want me looking for reptile supplies?

No.

Okay.

Where are we?

Nowhere.

Come on, guys, we're missing something.

Everyone leaves a trail everywhere they go whether they know it or not.

We know they have a cargo van, g*ns, a*mo...

Costumes.

They paid for parking, paid for gas.

They could have stopped for Starbucks.

Somebody has to have left a clue somewhere.

Tungsten.

Who needs it?

What's it used for?

NELL: Everything, from electronics to chemical catalysts.

That's part of the problem.

We need to focus on anomalies.

Cross-reference everything we have on Duncan, his crew, the heist, and find the guy behind the gorilla mask.

He's the key.

But what if they've already moved the gold out of L. A.?

ERIC: Hey, guys.

Found something.

A company called Carlisle Industries purchased a tilting smelting furnace for $37, 000.

That's one expensive turkey fryer.

According to this, Carlisle Industries manufactures custom tungsten alloy crankshafts for the after-market auto industry.

So it could be a legitimate purchase.

Possible, but unlikely.

Carlisle Industries didn't exist a month ago.

And here's the clincher: Last week, Carlisle Industries received a half-ton shipment of tungsten.

There's our anomaly.

What are we thinking, Kens?

1, 700 degrees.

They're cooking something.

You ready?

Yup.

Okay, we are up and running.

Where's she hiding the camera?

Somewhere she's sure to have his full attention.

You know I can hear you, right?

KENSI: Hi.

Can I, uh...

Help you?

Yes, I am Wendy with the IPA.

Industrial Park Association.

Our records show that Carlisle Industries is overdue for an OSHA safety inspection.

Yeah. Okay, uh...

The thing is, my boss, he isn't here right now.

Can you, um, leave a card or a number and...

I'll make sure he calls you back to set up an appointment.

Nothing says welcome like having a 300-pound Neanderthal crammed behind a desk.

First impressions are important.

I'm sorry, Mr.--?

Remo.

Right. This is why I'm here now, Mr. Remo.

This is my appointment.

Well, you're gonna have to reschedule, 'cause I'm about to lock up.

Why don't you call your boss?

I don't know where he is.

Well, then find him.

Look... honey...

Shouldn't have said that.

Big mistake.

Excuse me?

My boss isn't here.

I'm about to lock up, and you're leaving now.

I'm gonna put this in my report.

Oh, you do that.

Eric.

Looks like Kensi could use a little help.

We're on it.

Colossus, line one and a two and a three...

(phone lines ringing)

(chuckles)

Sorry about that, "honey."

All right.

(grunts, muffled shout)

(low, indistinct conversation)

(door clicks shut)

(clanging)

I'll check that way.

Shh.

(grunting)

(muffled grunt)

(grunting)

(g*nshots)

(grunts)

I had him.

Course you did.

Obviously.

Whatever.

CALLEN: Forget armed robbery, as*ault, economic terrorism, and several prison lifetimes'

worth of lesser charges-- we got seven counts of m*rder, gentlemen.

Seven.

But only one envelope.

In case you didn't already know it, that gold you stole was essentially the vig Uncle Sam owes on a loan to the Chinese.

Why don't you tell them what they won, Sam?

Well, in the interest of international cooperation and full disclosure, we've agreed to send one of you lucky contestants back to Shanghai for questioning.

That's right, an all-expense-paid trip to the land of Ping-Pong, panda, and human rights violations.

But... only one of you gentlemen can go.

So talk amongst yourselves, and in 1, 200 words or less, tell us who is most deserving to go and why.

CALLEN: Good luck, gentlemen.

(door shuts)

(sighs)

How long do you think before they rat each other out?

Man, as long as it takes for Panda Express.

What was in the envelope?

Lakers tickets.

My Lakers tickets?

(sighs)

Come in.

Hey.

Hi.

Your family gone?

Yeah, Tracy had to take the kids home.

It was past their bedtime.

So, you starting to remember?

Yeah, and doctors say I should get more and more each day.

That's great.

I still don't remember getting married or my kids being born but...

But you will.

I hope so.

On the other hand, I wish I could forget what happened today.

I had two tours in Afghanistan and I never sh*t anybody before.

You got to take the good with the bad.

It was self-defense.

Anyway, I just wanted to check in and let you know that we caught the guys, thanks in part to what you did.

Appreciate it.

Get some rest.

I will.

Thanks, Agent...

Um... I-I'm sorry.

Blye.

I know. I was just messin'

with you.

b*llet missed your funny bone obviously.

Take care.

(laughs softly)

ERIC: Guys, facial rec got a hit on the man behind the gorilla mask.

NELL: Jahveed Abbasi, Iranian Nationalist.

ERIC: Countless bombings in Israel, Europe, Iraq.

Does not play well with others.

It sounds like this wasn't just a heist but a state-sanctioned t*rror1st att*ck on our financial infrastructure.

Either way, we stopped it.

This time.

Good work, guys.

Thanks. See you tomorrow.

Uh, you...

You two leaving?

Yeah.

Together?

Uh, I don't know.

Are we?

(chuckles)

I mean, we're going home simultaneously.

Roughly the same direction, so...

That wasn't meant to be a skill-testing question.

(chuckles nervously)

Ha!

Nice.

What was that?

Don't ask, don't tell?

(chuckles)

HETTY: "O accursed hunger "of gold, to what dost thou not compel human hearts."

Virgil.

HETTY: Too bad those two you put in the boatshed aren't as well versed in the classics.

But they are singing like the Vienna Boys' Choir and pointing a finger back at Iran.

Yeah, Tehran would love to see us get into it with China.

It would take the heat off them.

Better luck next time.

Let's hope not.

And after this evening, none of us ever need speak of this again.

(quietly): It's in the vault.

Speak about what?

"The man who can keep a secret may be wise, "but he is not half as wise as the man who has no secrets to keep."

Edgar Watson Howe.

And yet it's a necessary evil in our business, I'm afraid.

Good night, Mr. Callen.
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