04x18 - Red, Part 1

[bunniefuu]

(car approaching)

(grunting)

(groaning)

(panting, grunting)

(phone line ringing)

OPERATOR: Please state the nature of your emergency.

Help me.

I crashed my car.

Someone's after me.

OPERATOR: I'm sorry, sir, you need to slow down.

It's a bad line.

Which emergency service?

Police! Send the police!

I'm sorry, sir, the line is very bad.

Can you speak up?

Sir? Sir?

Gunner Sergeant Edward T. Tyler, United States Marine Corps.

Semper Fi, you son of a bitch!

♪
♪ NCIS: LA 4x18 ♪

Red
Original air date on March 19, 2013

♪

Morning all.

There's a box on my desk.

Mind like a steel trap.

More like a mouse trap.

CALLEN: Mm-hmm.

That looks just like the box that Kensi got a few weeks ago.

Check the shipping label address, Deeks.

Wait a minute.

Oh, that is the box that Kensi got a few weeks ago.

What is it doing on my desk?

What is it doing on my desk?

No, no, no, no...

Morning.

No, this is not what it looks like.

Looks like a man holding a box.

An innocent man.

I have witnesses.

Listen, it was addressed to you, so I was taking it back to you.

Which obviously looks like I took it.

But I didn't take it.

It was put there.

Accidentally, maybe, on purpose.

And now I'm stuck holding... your box.

Wow.

I'll just put it on your d...

I put it on your desk.

You put it on my desk.

But it's your box.

And now it's yours.

My-my box?

Your box.

So, if you could just take it off my desk, please.

Just to clarify, you're giving me your box?

Uh-huh.

(sniffs) Okay.

What's in it?

What's in the box?

Open it and find out.

Listen, is this some sort of, uh, devilish trick that's payback for me snooping?

'Cause I didn't do it.

I didn't Google the sender of said box in question.

It's not a trick, Deeks.

Fine.

I'll just, uh...

Just open it then.

Just open the box.

DEEKS: Just going to open the box.

Nothing to lose here.

Nothing to see, just box opening.

(whistles)

ERIC: We got business.

Hello?

(whistles)

Hello!

Later.

I don't have to play your reindeer games.

KENSI: Whatever.

(Kensi sighs)

She's good.

Oh, she's very good.

Mm-hmm.

A two-whistle case, Mr. Beale?

That's my fault.

We were dealing with a, uh, delivery of sorts.

Oh, yes, the box.

What?

HETTY: A man's been found, sh*t through the back of the head, execution-style.

Mr. Beale.

The sh**ting took place four days ago in Griffith Park, but the body wasn't identified until yesterday.

An Indonesian national, Rachmed Santoso.

Mr. Santoso was a vocal supporter of radical Islam and a suspected arms dealer.

Increased chatter amongst Taliban groups in Afghanistan in recent weeks indicates a t*rror1st att*ck against the United States is imminent.

(phone ringing)

Yes.

Speaking.

Uh, Santoso dropped off the grid ten days ago, after his name was mentioned in several cell phone intercepts, suggesting he had an involvement in the crime.

What happened to his shoes?

NELL: They're missing.

It would appear the k*ller took them.

People have been k*lled for less.

Santoso had $2, 000, in cash, in his jacket pocket, so LAPD ruled out robbery as a motive.

A change in plans.

Ballistics report incoming, Mr. Beale.

Got it.

HETTY: Santoso's m*rder w*apon was used two days later two k*ll a United States Marine in Idaho.

ERIC: Gunnery Sergeant Edward Tyler.

He was found beside the road, night before last...

sh*t in the back of the head, execution-style.

SAM: Two victims, same w*apon, a thousand miles apart.

HETTY: Pack your bags, gentlemen, you're going to Idaho.

Little town of Moscow.

Meeting state or local police?

Neither.

Our red team's already on the ground.

Their case may have national security implications.

Ticktock, gentlemen.

Ms. Blye, Mr. Deeks, find Mr. Santoso's shoes, if you would.

Mm.

.22 caliber round.

Low noise, low velocity.

b*llet rattles around inside the skull.

No exit wound.

The ground is still soft from the rain.

No clear signs of a struggle.

Which means the sh**t must've walked up from behind him.

Well, that's weird, there's only one set of shoe prints.

Which means our sh**t can either levitate and/or, he's a ghost.

I don't believe in ghosts.

Really?

Hey, uh, how come we don't have a color?

What do you mean?

Hetty said that the agents who went to Idaho were the red team.

How come we're not, like, the silver team or the gold team or the platinum team?

Colors identify each team that work inside that division.

Oh.

Blue team, green team, red team.

They operate out of Georgia, but they're never home.

They work, travel, sleep together.

It's basically like living on a submarine.

Wait, what?

Stop the press, did you say sleep together?

Down, Rover.

Separate bunks.

Yeah.

They deploy everywhere.

Even overseas.

How does one get on one of these teams?

You become an NCIS agent, Detective.

Oh, right, yeah.

(snaps fingers)

DEEKS: What do you got?

KENSI: I also don't believe in levitation.

Those are very neatly placed.

So, were are looking for a sh**t with OCD?

Creeps up behind Santoso, pops him, slips on his shoes, walks all the way back down the road, stepping in his own footsteps, eliminating them.

So the sh**t's not a ghost, he's just clever.

(scoffs)

Very clever.

Thanks, guys.

Welcome to Moscow, Idaho.

Danny Gallagher, Logistics Officer.

Agent Callen.

Sam Hanna.

You guys ever been to Moscow before?

Not this Moscow.

Locals say this one's even colder.

At least no one'll be trying to k*ll me here.

(chuckles)

When did your team arrive?

Uh, yesterday.

We got three agents, two tech supports, including myself, and our team leader, Agent Paris Summerskill.

CALLEN: I've heard of her; never met her.

(clears throat) Well, right now, Paris is kind of "outranked."

Outranked?

Yeah.

By who?

That would be me, Agent Callen.

Now get your gear in before we all freeze our asses off.

DANNY: We flew the trucks in yesterday from Florida.

You never know where you're going to end up next with this job.

GRANGER: I was in San Francisco when Hetty briefed me.

Given the heightened security level, I thought I'd make the detour.

First time I've seen it.

DANNY: It's our home away from home.

Trust me, you're going to love it.

(sports broadcast playing)

We're back!

Whoo!

(blows on hand)

WOMAN: Hi, guys.

Hey.

DANNY: This is it.

State of the art.

State of the art, my ass.

Can you hold this?

Damn snow melt.

How come those geniuses down in Washington didn't think about snow accumulating on a flat roof?

I told 'em about this last year.

They never listen.

And I went to Caltech for this.

Tell someone who cares, Kai.

Do you care, Owen?

Not unless I have to write a memo about it.

Thank you, sir.

Sam, Callen, meet our boss, Paris Summerskill.

Callen... heard a lot about you.

You, too, Sam.

Hope it's good.

Mostly.

Special Agent Claire Keats.

Hey. Either of you smoke?

No.

Damn.

Over there, that's Dave Flynn, our forensic specialist and tonight's cook.

No vegetarians?

No.

That's a relief.

Wait, wait.

No vegans either, right?

No.

Great. I'll just do the croutons, and supper is up.

We'll get an early start in the morning, assuming this storm blows itself out.

Walk the crime scene.

In the meantime, drop your gear, make yourself at home.

The head's back that way.

Oh, Danny, the head's backed up again.

Oh, man.

You guys might want to take a bucket.

Welcome to red team.

Tyler was in Moscow on a five-day leave visiting his sister.

You've spoken with her?

Mm. She's pretty cut up.

Eddie was her only brother.

I'll have some bread.

Thanks.

Did Sergeant Tyler have security clearance?

Low level. Worked in transport.

(ceiling creaks)

He made a call from a roadside emergency phone.

Said he'd crashed his car.

Someone was chasing him.

Emergency services found him about ten minutes later.

Low-caliber round to the back of the head, like he was ex*cuted.

Motive?

Definitely wasn't robbery.

His wallet, his cash and his credit cards were found next to his body.

Not the way Marines normally end up getting m*rder*d, if there is a "normal."

The ballistics report linking him to Santoso's m*rder puts it in a whole different light.

(phone rings)

Incoming!

24/7.

We're always open.

HETTY: Sorry to crash your supper, Miss Summerskill.

Evening, Henrietta.

Owen.

Mr. Callen, Mr. Hanna.

Hetty.

Hetty.

Just calling to brief you on the latest with the Santoso investigation. Eric?

Uh, right. Uh, the briefing.

(clears throat)

Uh, well, Kensi and Deeks-- um, uh, Agent Blye and Detective Deeks, they went to the crime scene and they found Santoso's missing shoes.

And, uh, Nell and I, uh, we have been...

We are in the process of checking Santoso's missing phone records, but nothing to report.

ERIC: Yet. Nothing yet.

Right.

HETTY: Thank you, Eric.

So, how is everyone getting on in Idaho?

Everything's fine, Henrietta.

Mr. Callen?

All good.

Miss Summerskill?

Um, it's great to have company for dinner.

Dave makes a mean chicken soup.

Fish.

It... It was, it was fish.

That was fish?

HETTY: Excellent.

We regroup tomorrow.

Go to bed. Stay warm.

Shut it down, Eric.

What was that all about?

Something.

Something she's not telling us.

Something she may never tell us.

Cozy.

Whoa-whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Why do you get the bottom bunk?

Got here first.

G, the last time I slept on the top bunk, I rolled over in the morning and landed on a petty officer tying his shoelaces.

Broke his arm in three places.

Okay, now that's what I'm talking about.

Hetty's checking up on us.

Yep.

Take a s*ab at guessing why?

(sighs)

Maybe she wanted to see if you and Paris hit it off.

She's a good-looking woman, G.

You snore, I'm gonna sh**t you.

So what's the connection between Eddie Tyler-- a Marine with an impeccable m*llitary record-- and a zealot like Santoso?

Both sh*t in the back of the head with a low-velocity round.

All the hallmarks of a professional hit.

A professional would never use the same w*apon twice.

The sh**t's getting arrogant.

He doesn't believe he's ever gonna get caught.

Cozy.

(clears throat)

CALLEN: Yeah, cozy.

Eric?

Eric?

Yeah, just leaving.

(sighs)

You didn't go home last night?

I didn't. I...

Is it morning?

0500.

Oh, my gosh...

What exactly were you doing all night?

Sleeping upright in this chair.

Right. But before that?

What is this?

I was getting a lead on Santoso.

On his car.

Nell, I found his car.

Great.

Okay. Hetty's unexpected briefing freaked me out because we didn't have anything.

I mean, we had nothing.

That was, like, a non-briefing.

I don't know what she was expecting to hear, but I know she didn't hear it.

Yeah, yeah, it was weird.

Yeah. So...

(sighs) I stayed and I trawled cameras in the neighborhood where Santoso was sh*t.

Found this.

He parked the car in a lot a quarter mile from the road where his body was found.

It's still there.

And...

It was a rental.

Santoso was using a fake name and driver's license.

But he slipped up.

He used a real address.

It's West Hollywood.

Cheap, short-term vacation rentals.

I called them.

He's been staying there the past couple weeks.

That's about the same time s na hi was linked to the planned att*cks.

Kensi or Deeks?

Both.

KENSI: Federal agents!

Clear?

Clear.

Well, either Santoso really likes pizza or he had company for dinner.

I think it was more than a dinner party.

There are three extra sleeping bags in this room.

At least four of them holed up in here.

All right, so how many t*rrorists does it take to make a cell?

(phone line ringing)

ERIC: Hey, Kens.

What do you got?

Hey, Eric, we're gonna need any security and traffic cam footage you can find on Santoso's apartment for the past week.

Santoso had company.

ERIC: On it.

Bad company.

Nine-millimeter a*mo.

m*llitary grade.

Enough for someone to start a w*r.

WEATHER REPORTER: ...break out those snow shovels.

And we might not have seen the last of it.

The National Weather Service is continuing the winter storm watch for Moscow, Potlach...

PARIS: Morning.

Hey.

Hey.

Which fridge?

I'm sorry?

Um, the butter.

The lower fridge.

Mm. That might not be butter.

What might that be?

Evidence or a sample...

Or maybe something Dave's growing.

Our kitchen doubles as a lab when we're out in the field.

(laughing): Dave's usually pretty good at labeling things.

I'm sorry. Here.

Thank you.

Yeah.

(distant thudding)

SAM: Damn!

Sounds like Sam just woke up.

CALLEN: They got an early start.

Yeah. He told Claire that he wanted to review the evidence that we've collected so far.

Busy crime scene?

Hardly. It was snowing.

There wasn't much left to find.

There was no tire tracks, no footprints.

There's no physical evidence.

The crime scene was processed by the local sheriff's department.

It looks like the sh**t emptied Tyler's pockets.

He was very neat, methodical.

The only thing that's obvious that's missing is...

BOTH: ...his cell phone.

Which he used to call his sister ten minutes before he was k*lled.

You said last night that he called for help from a roadside phone.

Right. So why didn't he use his own phone?

Maybe he left it in the car.

We checked.

So he's driving to his sister's.

Suddenly, he realizes that someone's following him.

So he tries to gets away.

He loses control on the icy road.

Drags himself out.

Maybe keeps running 'cause he's still being chased.

He pulls out his own phone to call for help.

(keypad beeping)

It's cold, he's shaken up, he's scared. He drops it.

We're gonna need a metal detector.

(detector beeping steadily)

PARIS: He's got an agenda.

CALLEN: Granger always has an agenda.

Maybe he knew the victim.

Or he knew the k*ller.

Well, he'd tell us.

Wouldn't he?

Absolutely.

You don't like him.

We have trust issues.

Mm.

It's an unusual name.

"Paris."

This coming from a guy whose name is a letter in the alphabet...

(chuckles)

I could call you by your initial.

No, thanks.

It actually has a certain ring to it.

No, that's okay.

More of a tinkle.

Okay. (chuckles)

Huh?

I was um...

I was born in Paris.

My mother was a dancer.

Yes, and my dad played cello for their band.

Huh.

I know, I come from a creative family and I ended up a cop-- go figure.

Paris is a beautiful city.

Yeah... very romantic.

It snow much yesterday?

Oh, it was heavy.

Eased off in the afternoon.

Someone's been here since then.

No one from my team.

Well, whoever it was...

They spent some time here.

Lot of tracks between where Tyler crashed and where he was sh*t.

(metal detector beeping)

They were looking for something.

Maybe the same thing we're looking for.

Santoso was staying in the apartment with at least five other people.

Evidence suggests they geared up for a fight.

DANNY: Hey, guys.

Here we go.

48 hours in the snow.

Looks like we're gonna need a new battery.

We did a preliminary check on his phone log.

Mostly work-related calls, a few family calls, but nothing out of the ordinary.

sh**t spent valuable getaway time searching the body.

Yeah, and possibly came back for a second look once the crime scene was cleared.

Has to be the phone.

Well, if there's something there, our guys will find it.

PARIS: Danny, pull over. Let him pass.

SAM: Pull off! Pull off!

Stay back.

Go, go, go!

Where'd he go?

(car horn honking)

Danny?

You stay with her, I got him.

Danny!

Here, I got you.

Lean you back.

I got you.

You're gonna be all right.

(phone line ringing)

CALLEN: Kai, we got a man down.

Need an ambulance to our GPS location now.

I lost his tracks in amongst the rocks.

He must've had a car somewhere.

HETTY: What about the real snow plow driver?

Uh, dumped in a ditch by the roadside.

sh*t in the head, low caliber round, same as the others.

Tell me we got something, Dave.

Let's take a look.

How's Danny?

He's in surgery.

Ruptured spleen, other internal injuries from the impact.

They're gonna call us.

Put it up.

All right, you should be getting a feed, Eric.

Got it.

KAI: Okay...

Half a dozen photos, no saved voicemails, a string of text messages to "Karen."

His sister.

And a couple other guys.

Check the camera roll.

Looks like he was having some fun.

Any recent videos?

Uh, yeah.

TYLER: Man, this is worse than Thanksgiving.

Look at all these poor people.

Look at the date.

Yeah-- same day he was sh*t.

What airport is that?

O'Hare.

Yeah, he had a layover in Chicago.

TYLER: Ooh, she's cute.

Sorry, ma'am, I got a girl.

I love you, Sara, baby.

That's it?

That's it.

Play it again.

Towards the end.

What are we looking for, Claire?

She looks up, steps back...

There, the guy.

Behind her.

He covers his face.

Back it up a couple frames, Kai?

Here you go.

He filmed somebody who didn't want to be filmed.

Kai, facial recognition.

We need a name.

You got it.

Tyler was k*lled because he sh*t some innocent phone-cam video in an airport terminal?

That sucks.

Tyler was wearing a Marine uniform.

If you're a t*rror1st, that might be reason enough.

DAVE: He's not from the Middle East.

Fair skin, fair hair.

The kind of t*rror1st we should fear the most.

One of us.

Get his photo out to all major airports.

Find him.

Thank you, Ms. Summerskill.

Owen.

Hetty.

Eric.

Anything more on Santoso's apartment?

Kensi and Deeks are still working on it.

You can always open it.

Or you could just tell me what's inside of it and why you gave it to me.

We need to find out who came and went from Santoso's apartment.

No security cameras, no ATMs nearby.

What's this building here?

Listed as a private business.

Property owner is Amber Starr.

Wait, what? The Amber Starr?

I doubt there's two.

Do you know her?

Yeah, she runs a string of massage parlors.

Security conscious?

Are you kidding me?

She's probably got more cameras than the Pentagon, inside and out.

But she's not just gonna hand over her hard drive to anyone.

But she does owe me a favor.

(tape rewinding)

Stop.

Go back.

24 hours ago.

Four guys plus the driver.

No prizes for guessing what's inside those duffel bags.

HETTY: Eric, hold it there, please.

Bugger.

Got a name on the airport guy.

TSA security footage out of Los Angeles.

Facial recognition scan.

It's, uh, probably a fake I. D., but a Robert Spears flew into LAX at 6:00 a.m. this morning.

All right.

I'm gonna send Callen and Sam back to Los Angeles.

You can wrap up your investigation here.

Okay.

Incoming.

HETTY: Harris, Owen, we've had a disturbing development.

Earlier today, a man named Ari Sayed and four others were recorded leaving Santoso's apartment.

They're all Afghani m*llitary, and disappeared from a DoD training course last month, in Texas.

What sort of training?

Advanced aeronautics.

They're all qualified pilots.

(engines whirring)

Spears rented a car when he flew into L. A.

Same credit card was used to rent the van that picked up the men at Santoso's apartment.

Spears upgraded; got himself a car with GPS.

Where is it now?

About two blocks away.

Burbank police found it in the driveway of a house owned by a TSA officer.

They found his body in the garage, dead less than an hour.

His security pass was missing.

They also found spray paint can and a stencil with the letters T-S-A.

SAM: Well, Spears is the head of the snake.

He took out Santoso, who supplied weapons to his cell.

So either he didn't trust him or doesn't need him anymore.

He took out Sergeant Tyler on the off chance someone recognized him.

Spears is a Westerner.

Which do you think?

Money or ideology?

Money, I hope.

Both vehicles-- load 'em up.

CALLEN: Eric, alert Burbank authorities to lock down all vehicle access to the airport.

And we need to know which gate TSA personnel use to drive on.

Stand by.

Callen, end of the street, Gate B.

Got it.

Sam. The white van.

Hang on, Kensi. Stay close.

Roger that.

I. D.

(phone ringing)

(phone continues ringing)

(tires squealing)

(a*t*matic g*nf*re)

(b*ll*ts ricochet)

(tires squealing)

(tires screech)

(grunts)

(grunts)

Move it! Move it!

CALLEN: Paris, with me. On Spears.

Turn over!

Over!

CALLEN: Four dead, one slightly wounded.

GRANGER: Spears?

(sighs)

He got away.

What's in the box?

Wow, that is a fantastic question, Why don't you ask my partner, not that she's gonna tell you.

I forgot his birthday.

I felt bad, so I decided to get him something that he's always wanted more than anything else in the world.

DAVE: Cool.

Claire gave me socks for my birthday.

They gave me a rash.

You already had the rash, Dave.

But it got worse.

They're warm socks, though.

You really did that?

Open it, find out.

(chuckles)

(clears throat)

And what if you got it wrong?

I mean, 'cause life doesn't get any better than this moment right now 'cause everything I ever wanted is inside...

(taps box twice)

...this box, right?

There's no real reason to open it, then, is there?

Nope.

There isn't.

It's not socks, is it?

I'm just gonna put this up here.

(phone beeps off)

Danny?

Yeah, yeah, they're taking him off the critical list.

That's good news.

Yeah.

Well, you're a man down.

A couple months, that's all.

I better tell the team.

Eric and Nell are checking cell phone calls with the NSA.

We might have leads on Spears within the hour.

I want this guy.

You're not the only one.

You weren't in San Francisco, Owen.

You were in New York, on your way to Washington.

You've seen his work before.

Our sh**t's got a name now, or at least a face.

Long story, is it?

Red team's a man down.

(sighs)

You really want me to approve this?

It's about time they put the past behind them.

As long as you don't expect me to tell her.

No.

My decision, my job.

Oh, bugger, he's early.

PARIS (in distance): I loved him for that.

It was such a crazy thing to do.

(chuckles)

Roy.

Sorry to hear about Danny.

Yeah, he's going to be all right.

Good.

Evening, Roy.

Hetty, sir.

Roy.

You're early.

HETTY: Uh, Roy is going to be filling in until Danny's fit for duty.

You good with that?

Whew.

I didn't see that.

Well, that wasn't so bad, was it, Roy?

(wry laugh)

(panting)

(echoing): Roy!

It's okay... okay.

(panting)

Where were you?

You okay?

Yeah, never better.

(door opens)

(door closes)

Wow.

What'd he do?

He didn't stay down.

Why don't you just go ahead and ask?

About Roy.

Okay.

What about Roy?

(sighs)

I should have told you to go to hell.

Well, you wouldn't have been the first to make that suggestion.

But, look, here you are.

Why'd you offer me this?

But the more intriguing question, Roy, is: why did you accept?

Redemption.

Hers or yours?

We used to work together, a few years back.

New York Field Office.

(scrubbing g*n)

We were partners.

Roy was an agent.

When did he stop being an agent?

(g*n parts clacking)

When he got sh*t.

What happened that night?

What happened?

You sent us out there, Hetty.

You set up the operation.

You know what happened.

You were investigating a weapons dealer in New York.

You were ambushed in an alley.

Three of the assailants were k*lled.

You were wounded, you almost d*ed.

That's right.

So why are you asking?

Because that's not the full story.

I work alone now.

(reassembling g*n)

I used to work alone.

You miss it?

Not since I've been with the big fella.

It's good to have a partner.

Mm.

You and Paris were such a good team.

Why are you trying to put us together again?

As you said... redemption.

Ours or yours?

(phone ringing)

Oh.

(phone rings)

Yeah.

Okay, we're on the way.

We've got a lead on Spears.

Working on the assumption that Spears used his cell phone immediately after we stopped the att*ck, we checked all calls originating in and around the airport and came up with this.

A call made to a satellite phone 3½ minutes after Spears slipped away.

NSA routinely records satellite phone calls.

This is what they got.

SPEARS: I need you to get me out of here now.

MAN: Okay, I get it.

Just saying, it's going to take some time for me to organize.

It's going to cost.

SPEARS: How long?

MAN: The day after tomorrow, okay?

There's a hotel-- the El Centro West Plaza.

Book a room, use the name Jackson.

You hole up there and you wait to be contacted.

Stay away from the border checkpoints.

They'll be watching for you.

The guy who smuggled you over the border will take you back across.

Have you got that?

SPEARS: Yeah.

MAN: St off the phone.

Spears is English.

The other guy sounds like a contractor.

Probably hired to provide technical support.

How far is El Centro?

Three hours south, right on the border.

Spears is our priority.

I don't want him coming back to try this again with another t*rror1st cell.

Mr. Callen, interrogate the surviving t*rror1st and find our friend on the satellite phone.

Ms. Summerskill, get your team down to El Centro.

Watch that hotel.

Yeah.

And, Ms. Summerskill, you're still a man down.

Okay.