05x24 - Deep Trouble, Part I

[bunniefuu]

(whooping)

Whoa. That was a puff dragon right there.

All right, Angel, come back with something stronger, please.

Show 'em why you the reigning champ right now.

Let me see. (laughing)

Let's go, Luis. Show me something nice right here, man.

Come on. Show me some fire, baby.

Show me that fire.

Show me that fire.

(laughter)

(indistinct chatter)

Right there. Right here.

Come on. Come on, Angel.

You gonna let us take you out like that? Come on.

(laughter)

Show me something nice, brah.

Ooh! That almost got me right there, man.

Like that one, huh?

Aw, he took a big sip for this one.

Show me some fire, baby.

Grand finale. Show me something right here, Luis.

(groaning, laughter)

Oh, man on fire!

Man on fire!

Burning Angel.

Burning Angel.

And we got a new winner.

And new dragon. Luis el Conquistador Morales!

Let me see you blow it up for me, baby.

Show me something nice right here.

(whooping)

Oh, what the hell was that?

Yo, yo.

Oh, man.

Oh, what the...?

That dude just jump off the bridge?

That's nasty.

(groaning)

What the hell?

♪ NCIS: LA 5x24 ♪

Deep Trouble
Original air date on May 13, 2014

♪

(blender whirring)

DEEKS: It's almost ready!

(blender whirring)

It's alive!

It's alive!

Oh, gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen.

Oh. Sam Dog, want some of this latest creation?

Looks like someone drained it out of a latrine. Pass. (laughs)

G-Bacon? Something to clean out that seven pounds of undigested red meat that's putrefying in your intestines?

Long as I still have my teeth, I prefer to chew my food.

Well, this is a lot easier to digest.

Full day's nutrients.

Come on, no takers?

Looks predigeste

(laughs) All right.

Guess I'm the only person that treats their body like a temple.

Yeah, Shirley Temple.

(laughs)

DEEKS: That's right. Laugh while you can, gentlemen, 'cause humor is the first casualty of your impending vascular dementia.

(laughing)

Morning, boys.

What's going on?

Your partner has the body of Shirley Temple.

Tell me something I don't know.

Oh. You know what?

That just cost you a burst of instant awesome.

Looks more like a burst of instant...

No, don't say it. Please.

Don't say what?

Say what?

Just... drink your awesome.

Enjoy.

Sam has a little problem with the, uh, "D" word.

Oh, yeah? What "D" word?

DEEKS: Dentist?

Didgeridoo?

Dunkleosteus?

What is that?

It's a prehistoric fish.

Don't ask me why I know that.

Diarrhea.

No...! What did I just say?

(laughing)

I almost d*ed of dysentery in Angola... twice.

Oh.

Twice.

Ooh.

I'd rather be sh*t than drink that.

Hmm, then just to clarify-- a clown with colitis is like your worst nightmare?

Shut up, Deeks.

(laughing)

KENSI: Okay, too far.

Sometimes, I hate being the only girl.

In fact, most days, I...

Eric, my friend.

Please tell me we have a case, even if we don't.

Oh, uh, yeah.

Thank God.

It's like a high school locker room down there.

You know what?

Never mind.

You wouldn't understand.

You're a boy.

No, actually, I do understand.

I was a geek in high school.

The locker room was my Thunderdome.

Yeah? Maybe it's 'cause of that Florence Henderson haircut.

Nell?!

What's the skinny, mini?

AKA Ms. Jones?

LAPD received a hotline tip from someone who witnessed an apparent su1c1de off the Whittier Street Bridge last night.

The body has been identified as Lieutenant Commander Steven Hill, an engineer officer on the USS Darlington, an Ohio-class nuclear sub.

Now, the Darlington has been at sea for three weeks, but Hill has been listed as an unauthorized absence for almost a month.

Family?

Wife and son.

His spouse reported him missing 28 days ago.

Any red flags? Gambling? dr*gs?

NELL: No.

Nothing on his file.

And, of course, we can't question his unit because they're already underway.

Because of his top secret rating and his intimate knowledge of our boomers, we've been tasked with checking it out.

Okay. Crime scene, family?

DEEKS: Uh, Sam was a sailor. You should probably take family.

Crime scene.

Gah!

(chuckles)

Diarrhea.

Stop it.

Ow.

I actually felt that.

How does he do that?

Ow!

Felt that?

Yeah, 'cause you actually hit me.

Sorry, did I get you in your dunklesaurus?

Um, okay, just for the record, it's Dunkleosteus!

(garbled radio transmission)

That'll do it.

Yeah, but why here?

And where's his car?

It wasn't up there.

Could have been stolen in this part of town.

Or he could have walked?

From where?

Yeah.

There's not much around here.

Bus?

Who takes a bus to a su1c1de?

Oh, you'd be surprised.

Golden Gate Bridge, Niagara Falls.

Both iconic.

This is just sad.

Well, maybe our guy lacked imagination.

Or he was so distraught, he didn't care.

Enge on a boomer is tough.

Just spending months at a time on a sub takes a special type.

All of whom are extensively screened.

So, LAPD got an anonymous tip.

Why don't we have Eric check the area for cell phone activity around the time of the jump?

(phone ringing)

Speak of the chicken-legged devil.

What do you got, Eric?

Prelim autopsy report from the coroner's office.

They're saying Hill was dead before he hit the pavement.

SAM: Hard to jump when you're a corpse.

Ah, unless you're a zombie.

You got a cause of death?

Cocaine overdose.

(phone chimes)

What do you got?

Coroner's report says that Hill d*ed of a cocaine overdose.

Well, that doesn't fit the profile.

No, it doesn't.

Are you sure I can't get you something?

No. Thank you very much.

Have people been bringing food over all morning. I...

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with all of it.

I know this is incredibly difficult, Mrs. Hill, but we need to gather as much information as fast as possible.

Yeah.

I kept telling myself Steven was coming back, but I didn't expect it to be like this.

You reported him missing a few weeks ago? Is that correct?

28 days.

Yeah, he was right here, working on the playhouse.

He needed something from the hardware store.

I was going to go with him, but Adam had just fallen asleep.

Adam's your son?

He's seven.

I haven't told him yet.

He's used to his father being away for extended periods of time, but...

You know, this time he's not coming back.

Did your husband struggle with anything?

Alcohol? Gambling? dr*gs?

No, he was squared away, as you say.

Steven wouldn't have put Adam and me through this willingly.

Mrs. Hill, what do you think happened to your husband?

I don't know, and neither do his friends.

The coroner report says your husband d*ed of a cocaine overdose.

No way. That's impossible.

Steven didn't use dr*gs ever.

He didn't smoke.

He barely drank beer.

Now, I don't know what happened to my husband, but I know he did not die from a drug overdose.

You need to leave.

Now.

Thank you.

Of course.

(throat clearing)

Okay.

(high-pitched grunting)

(grunting)

(grunting)

♪ ♪

(sighs)

(inhales deeply through nose)

(exhales through mouth)

(footsteps approaching)

Owen?

You've been wearing the same shoes for six months.

What's wrong?

What have you heard?

Nothing.

But I can surmise that the White Ghost has come back to haunt me.

Look, you knew this day was coming.

What's the official word?

Administrative leave pending a full investigation.

Effective...?

Immediately.

Of course. Of course.

I'm sorry.

Spare me your platitudes, Owen.

You may need them yourself.

Somebody in Washington is stirring this up.

It's a witch hunt.

Yes.

And unfortunately, I'm the one left holding the broom.

Lieutenant Commander Hill's wife says he never used any dr*gs.

But toxicology proves he d*ed of a cocaine overdose.

Preliminary autopsy report shows signs of repeated needle use.

IV cocaine injection is hard-core.

How long was he dead before he was thrown off?

An hour, maybe less.

If your buddy O. D.'s, you take him to the E. R.; you don't toss him off a bridge.

Yeah, this was deliberate.

It's either an act of anger or it was meant to look like a su1c1de.

Or both.

The question remains, to what end?

Wonder Twins find anything?

As a matter of fact, we did.

Cell activity in the vicinity of the bridge around the time Hill's body was dumped.

Most of it's probably automobile traffic, but I've got some that remain in the area long enough to have possibly witnessed something.

Do you have any names?

Yeah. But only one with a record.

James Martinez.

He's affiliated with the Mission Street g*ng.

That's their territory. If as hanging around that area, it's a good chance it was someone from their g*ng.

Do you have an address?

Yeah, I got six.

He's bounced around a lot.

It's quicker to just ask his g*ng.

It's quicker, but it's a hell of a lot more dangerous.

Thanks, Eric.

Where's your sense of adventure?

I left it in my "sense of self-preservation" pants.

They still fit you?

Sure do.

So, I went back through Steven Hill's records, all of which confirm what his wife said.

On Wednesday, April 16, he bought a circular saw blade from a hardware store at 3:48 p.m. six blocks away from his house.

And after that?

Nothing.

His cell phone gets turned off, his car disappears and his credit cards are never used again.

Traffic cams?

Nope.

So maybe he was abducted.

I mean, he's an engineer aboard a nuclear submarine.

He's got top secret clearance, he's got access to tons of proprietary and technological information.

So, what, grab him, sh**t him full of dr*gs, pick his brain, and then... and then what?

k*ll him with an overdose, throw him over a bridge, make it look like a su1c1de.

That's not bad.

I mean, it's not nice, but it's pretty damn clever.

Okay, so who grabbed him?

North Korea?

Pakistan?

GRANGER: What did you expect?

Did you think this was gonna go away quietly?

No.

(sighs)

Neither am I.

Tell them that.

Wait a minute. I-I have nothing to do with this.

Well, maybe that's the problem.

Because if you are not watching my back, then you might as well be stabbing it.

I hate it when Mom and Dad fight.

Ms. Jones.

I need a flight to Washington.

I'm on it.

Hetty.

Is everything okay?

No, everything is not okay, Agent Blye.

But would you please return to work?

You ever in a g*ng?

(scoffs)

All the years that we've been working together, have I ever mentioned me being in a g*ng?

I don't know. Maybe you were too embarrassed to admit it.

Do I look like someone who would be in a g*ng?

Well, you know...

Well, what about you?

Mr. Crew Cut, b*llet scars, only goes by "G."

You're, like, one swastika tattoo and a pair of Doc Martens away from looking like all the white supremacists we ever busted.

I got better teeth.

You know it.

Guilty.

Here we go.

A little garden party going on here.

Yeah.

♪ ♪

Black t*nk top is Salazar, their leader.

You guys lost?

Eh, we're just looking for a friend.

I don't think you have any friends here.

Yeah, you're probably right.

CALLEN: Just want to ask one of your boys about something he might have seen.

Nice car.

Yeah, it is.

Don't touch it.

I'm serious.

There's only one way this goes well for you, Salazar.

How's that?

You tell us where James Martinez is and we're gone.

What makes you think I know him?

You wouldn't be much of a leader if you didn't.

I don't know you, and I know a lot of cops.

We're federal agents.

You wouldn't want to know us.

(chuckles)

CALLEN: A body was dumped off the Whittier Street Bridge the other night.

Martinez might have seen something.

Well, I can call LAPD, have 'em send over their urban as*ault team and just...

Go house to house and look for him.

Where's Martinez working today?

Fruit stand on Mateo.

Wasn't that easy?

(starts engine)

One love, baby.

SAM: You know he's gonna run.

CALLEN: No, he might not.

Trust me, he's gonna run.

You know how I can tell?

'Cause it's 85 degrees out and we're both wearing jeans?

Exactly.

Mm-hmm.

Well, you could just hit him with your car.

Nah.

I just got it detailed.

Yo, yo!

Yo, what you looking for?

Looking for you, James.

You run, we chase you.

We chase you, we catch you.

And when we catch you, we're gonna tell Salazar you're our informant.

What'd you see the other night under the Whittier Street Bridge?

I don't know what you're talking about.

I got to get to school.

Uh-huh.

He's funny.

And there he goes.

He must be late for class.

Really?

Yeah, I'll follow him in the car.

(tires screeching)

Let's go.

(tires screech)

You almost had him.

I'm driving the rest of this week.

Not if you don't catch him, you don't.

Yeah.

(tires screech)

I'll keep the AC on.

Funny.

(grunts)

(grunts)

Down on the ground.

(grunts)

That's for making me run.

Hetty, do you have a minute?

Is it urgent?

I don't know. I'm not sure.

Well, then it's not.

And if it's not, I don't have a minute.

Does this, uh...

Does this have anything to do with what happened in Afghanistan?

Agent Blye, I have work to do, and I'm sure you must, too.

(sighs)

She shut me down again.

Wish she'd teach me how to do that. (sighs)

KENSI: I'm telling you, this has something to do with Afghanistan.

You don't know that.

Yes, I do.

If it wasn't, she would've said so.

(chuckles)

Survey says... heroin.

What are you taking at school, pharmacology?

That's not mine.

Yeah?

Not anymore it isn't.

Hey.

Hey, what?

You said this wasn't yours.

It's still somebody's personal property.

Was.

Now it's evidence.

I don't have to talk to you guys.

I got the right to remain silent.

Yeah, you also have the right to remain stupid.

(chuckles) Or you can be smart.

You can tell us what you saw under the Whittier Street Bridge.

I don't even know where that is.

No?

(laughter on phone)

Man on fire! Man on fire!

Burning Angel!

Burning Angel!

Huh.

These must be buddies of yours from your Mensa group.

Luis el Conquistador Morales.

Show me something, baby.

Let me see. Ooh!

(thud)

(laughs) What the hell was that?

No eyes on the bridge, but you can hear a car.

Every engine has its own acoustic signature.

That would be great if we had an engine to compare it to, but we don't.

True.

But I narrowed down the size and type of engine, and, by searching traffic cams, I found three matches in the vicinity at that time, one of which is registered to Michael Wilson.

CALLEN: Guy's served tim and he's a white supremacist.

Card-carrying member of the Herrenvolk Brotherhood.

Currently on parole.

You may get a chance to sport that n*zi tattoo before the day's over yet.

Wonderful.

Send us his address.

Have his P. O. meet us over there. Otherwise, I, uh...

I want their blessing to check in on him.

ERIC: Got it.

KENSI: Hey, have either of you spoken to Hetty today?

No. Why?

Because I think something's up.

It's Hetty. Something's always up with her.

She's being called back to Washington, and Kensi thinks it's about Afghanistan and the whole White Ghost thing.

Okay, can you guys just talk to her whenever you get a chance?

We will. It's gonna have to wait, though.

You wanted to speak with me, Hetty?

Look at this.

Lipstick g*n.

(chuckles)

(chuckles)

They were all the rage in the '50s.

Cool.

Must have that.

(chuckles) Mmm.

So is everything okay?

I doubt it.

Fallout from the White Ghost incident.

Should I be worried?

Has that ever helped?

Careful, yes.

Vigilant, definitely.

Leave the worry to your enemy.

I will check in with you every day.

However, should I fail to do so, follow the enclosed directions as soon as possible.

Understood?

What? No.

Yes.

I mean, yes, of course, but...

What's going on?

I wish I knew.

It could just be the new administration flexing their muscles.

Right, and if it's not?

You have your instructions.

Okay.

All right. Big hug.

CALLEN: Set.

KENSI: No answer.

Try again.

It's locked.

I'm gonna pick it.

(loud g*nf*re)

Geez!

(grunts)

You okay?

Yeah. I think so.

Some serious firepower.

You think?

Federal agents.

Throw down your weapons.

(glass shatters)

Grenade.

Son of a bitch.

CALLEN: Kensi, Deeks, fall back, get ready for them to come out f*ring.

Eric, we need backup.

On its way.

A hand grenade?

You told 'em to throw down their weapons.

DEEKS: Guys, nobody's coming.

We got nothing, nobody coming.

KENSI: Is that Wilson?

It's hard to say.

Guy's in pretty bad shape.

Is he gonna make it?

Eh, it's doubtful.

Found a couple other bodies inside, including a woman that was shackled to a bed.

She may have been ex*cuted before we got there.

There was a single g*nsh*t wound to her face.

This?

CALLEN: Looks like her I. D.

Found it in what might have been her purse.

Sent a photo to Eric.

Hopefully he'll get a match at the DMV.

What's shaking, partner?

Hey.

Hey.

Hi.

Hi, hi.

All right, there... Hi.

Did you guys make this mess?

Yeah, we did. DEA Agent Talia del Campo, you remember Agent Callen, Agent Hanna.

How you doing?

Good.

Good to see you again.

You, too.

And this is, uh, Special Agent Kensi Blye.

Hey.

Ah.

You actually do exist.

I thought you were an imaginary friend.

Imaginary friend?

You were on another assignment the last time we hooked up.

DEEKS: Partnered up. She...

We were teamed up.

Partnered up.

They teamed us up 'cause there was an expl*si*n at a fish market.

Right. Yeah.

What's your connection to Michael Wilson?

The DEA's been following the Herrenvolk Brotherhood.

They move half the meth on the West Coast.

What about coke?

Not traditionally, but they've been forming some new alliances. Why?

Something else we're working on. Nothing big.

(laughs) Right.

You guys hate to share.

Something wrong?

Oh, no. Sorry.

Uh... you're just not what I pictured.

KENSI: Oh, yeah?

What did you... picture?

TALIA: I don't know. Uh, I guess the name threw me.

When I heard "Kensi, "

I guess I just expected Barbie's Malibu cousin.

Thought I'd be seeing a blonde California girl.

(chuckles): Oh.

Not even close.

I can see that now.

Okay, then. We're gonna run down this lead.

We'll, uh... we'll let you know what we find.

Yeah. You three should... talk.

See if you could find something to help on this.

You sure you don't want me to come with you?

SAM: We're good.

You think it's safe to leave Deeks alone with those two?

(sighs): Oh... hell of a lot safer than being here when the claws come out.

DEEKS: All right, uh, why don't you follow us to the boatshed.

Good. I'll grab my car.

Sure. See you there.

See you.

She's pretty.

Who? Talia?

No, Queen Elizabeth.

Heh. Regal, maybe.

I always thought her sister, Princess Margaret, was the hot one. Ow!

Don't be an idiot.

You're the one that brought up the Windsor sisters.

You can't tell me you don't think she's attractive.

You know what?

I honestly never even noticed.

Aah! God!

All right...

Okay, I've not noticed that she's not...

Not attractive.

She's beautiful.

You're beautiful.

(exhales)

(groans)

I don't know why you punched me then.

What is that for?

For good luck.

That's not... that's not good luck.

Why don't you just get in the car and drive.

Rabbit feet, four-leaf clovers-- those are good luck.

Your abusive nature, there's nothing good-lucky about that.

Anything yet?

ERIC: Yeah. Got a hit.

Jennifer Anderson.

She a missing person?

No.

Single?

Uh, married.

Huand Charles Anderson, no kids.

Guy owns a yacht-building company in Marina del Rey.

Successful?

Barely.

Then that rules out a kidnap for ransom.

Unless the kidnappers didn't know he was struggling.

Or he hired them himself.

She have a life insurance policy?

If she did, it might take me a while to find it.

All right.

Let us know when you do.

Yeah.

Last time I was here, you had to carry me to the bathroom.

Remember that?

She had a stone fish spine stuck in her leg.

Right.

Okay, I'm gonna go to the b...

Excuse me, I'm gonna go to the b...

Please. After you.

Oh, no. You go ahead. Please.

TALIA: I can wait.

No, no, guests first.

I insist.

DEEKS: Why don't I just...

I'll run to the bathroom.

No. You...

Just go to the... Nope.

Back away.

You know what? I suggest you actually go after me.

You see, he refuses to put the toilet seat back down.

And I can't tell you how many times I've had a wet butt thanks to him.

I don't think that means what you think that that means. (clears throat)

(clears throat)

What? Sitting on a toilet without looking down?

I mean, that's just plain reckless.

All right.

Aah!

That... is for not telling me how beautiful she is.

(groans)

Ah, you should've seen the last one.

Uh-huh.

It all makes sense now.

I get it.

What makes sense now?

Your partner is smoking hot, and you are very clearly madly in love with her.

So...

No, no. No, no.

I mean, we're very close, honestly, but it's much more of a brother-and-sister relationship.

Really?

So you're telling me that the two of you never...

(clicks tongue twice)

That would be against regulations.

That's not a no.

Mm.

Mm-hmm.

You know, I wouldn't have let regulations stop me if we were partners.

I'm sorry, just to clarify-- if you and I were partners, or if you and...

Kensi were partners?

(whispers): Either/or.

Wow.

Gonna go ahead and save that image in my head.

Why don't you tell me why you guys b*rned down Michael Wilson's house?

Because that's just how we roll.

What can you tell us about the Herrenvolk Brotherhood and these, uh, these new alliances?

Well, there are 450 active gangs in Los Angeles, which translates to about 45, 000 g*ng members.

The irony of the present system is, once you guys bust them, all of them end up in the same...

Place.

They're forced to interact with each other; the smarter ones then realize that they have a lot more to financially gain by working together than sh**ting each other over a street corner.

(whispers): Exactly.

(chuckles)

Um... uh, so what about the...

(clears throat) the Herrenvolk, uh, the Brotherhood?

They're aligning themselves with someone, I suppose, 'cause the... they got to do that.

I'll help you out.

We thought they may have been working with the Brenasolo Cartel, but as of this afternoon, any proof we may have had went up in smoke.

Mm. That makes it...

(imitates expl*si*n)

Mm-hmm.

...difficult.

Gentlemen, can I help you?

Charles Anderson?

Mm-hmm.

Special Agent Hanna.

Special Agent Callen.

NCIS.

We just want to ask you a few questions about your wife.

What about her?

When was the last time you spoke to her?

Yesterday.

Not today?

Not yet.

Well, she's in Europe with a friend.

Do you have a number where we could reach her?

(chuckles)

Not until she reaches her hotel.

She's on a train to Istanbul.

What is this about?

Her driver's license was found at the scene of a sh**t and ensuing fire this morning.

A woman's body was recovered.

Had her purse been stolen recently?

Mr. Anderson?

Are you sure...

Are you sure it was Jen?

We're waiting for a positive I. D.

They swore they wouldn't hurt her.

Who did?

They wanted me to design and build them a boat.

Who?

I don't know.

They never used any names.

Drug dealers.

They were supposed to release her today after their run.

What kind of boat did you build for them?

A submersible.

A submarine?

GRANGER: The cartels have been using narco subs since the '90s.

Originally, they were primitive, low-profile semisubmersibles with just the exhaust and a cockpit out of the water.

But lately, they've been making them bigger and more sophisticated.

ERIC: Anderson sent the one he built in pieces to be assembled in Colombia.

According to the specs, it's capable of traveling 2, 500 miles and diving to a depth of 60 feet.

That makes it almost impossible to spot.

TALIA: We estimate that at least a third of Colombia's cocaine export is coming in via sub.

But less than 15% of them are actually caught.

So even if they spend a few million dollars on one and lose it, it's still worth it.

Oh, absolutely.

The Colombians have found subs being built capable of hauling 200 tons of cocaine.

We're talking a street value approaching the billion dollar mark?

That's billion with a capital "B."

Unfortunately, the only one who would have known where to find this sub is now clinging to life at the USC Burn Center.

If these guys are bringing in several tons of coke, there's only a few players that can move that kind of weight.

Somebody's bound to talk.

We can help with that.

I can see what kind of chatter my people have heard.

CALLEN: Good.

Eric, go through Charles Anderson's phone records.

These guys had to have contacted him more than once.

Let me see what I can find.

Sam and I will head back to the Wilson house.

Now that we know what we're looking for, we may get lucky.

What's the status on Hetty?

She's being called back to Washington.

Don't ask me why.

I wouldn't tell you if I knew.

I feel like we've had this conversation before.

Those who ignore the past are destined to repeat it.

What does that have to do with Hetty?

Ask her.

We're asking you.

You got to be very careful, fellas.

Your fairy godmother isn't going to be around to protect you, so I suggest you get back to work.

We'll talk later.

You can count on that.

(sighs)

NELL: Callen? Sam?

Where have you been?

I was checking out the two cars you found at Wilson's.

So, one is his, but the other is being leased by Santa Monica College student Ali Hanna.

Uh, no relation, I'm guessing?

Any chance he's a white supremacist?

I don't think so.

Anyway, he's here on a student visa from Cyprus.

Could be one of the bodies we found inside.

Maybe they jacked him for his car.

That may be.

I looked into the GPS.

Lots of bars and strip clubs.

But what's interesting is this address in San Pedro.

It's a wet dock rental for ship repair.

But Anderson's sub was assembled in South America.

And they usually sink 'em after they unload the cargo offshore.

Might be worth looking into.

We'll check it out.

Okay.

Good job, Nell.

Thanks.

♪ ♪

We got eyes on this place, Eric?

No. Sorry.

(men shouting and grunting)

(rapid g*nf*re on TV)

Who's winning?

Federal agents. Put your hands on your head.

Anybody else here?

Go to hell.

Don't say anything.

I blame the video games.

(handcuffs click)

You're not going to believe what we're looking at.

This is going on my Christmas card.

Eric, we found the sub.

Have Kensi and Deeks meet us here.

Got it.

Alert the harbormaster, the Coast Guard and the Navy.

Copy that.

You think anyone's on board?

After you.

You know damn well I'm not going on that thing.

I'll stay here.

Thought you were wearing your sense-of-adventure pants today, huh?

Yeah. I don't have a problem with adventure.

I'm just not a big fan of confined spaces.

Huh.

Let me help you with those.

Just the carry-on.

The briefcase stays with me.

(trunk closes)

♪ ♪

(door creaking)

(g*nf*re)

G!

(g*nshots)

(gasps)

(g*nshots)

Hey.

G?

All good.

It's all clear back here.

I think we're a little late.

Looks like the dr*gs have been loaded out.

Fertilizer?

Yeah, somebody else has other plans for this thing.

This whole thing's a giant torpedo.

Eric, we're going to need the b*mb squad, as well.

(staticky): Eric... we're gonna...

Callen, come again?

You're breaking up!

I said... need the... quad.

Agent Callen?

(staticky): Agent... Hanna...?

I said we're gonna need the b*mb squad!

GRANGER (staticky): Agent Hanna...?

NELL (staticky): You're breaking up.

Better go up topside.

No.

If anybody's going topside, it's me.

(footfalls on ladder)

MAN: Ahmed?

Ahmed?!

They must be on the boat.

Federal agents!

Throw down your weapons!

(b*ll*ts ricocheting)

Ali?

We have to leave before anyone else shows up.

Cast off.

What about Ahmed?

He's dead. Help Ali.

Go. Hurry.

Eric, do you copy?

Eric, do you copy?

Kensi and Deeks are on the way.

(whirring)

That's not good.

Harbormaster, Coast Guard and Navy have all been alerted to this vessel and its location.

You cannot escape.

Neither can you.

(Sam grunting)

Sam? Callen?

Can you hear me?

Agent Blye, what the hell is going on?

(tires squealing)

Guys, we're here.

Go.

Callen, Sam, do you hear me?

Callen, Sam, do you hear me?