12x11 - Ms. Willows Regrets

[bunniefuu]

Previously, on CSI:

RUSSELL: Extended family meeting-- now.

RUSSELL: This is Agent McQuaid, Special Agent in Charge Pratt. They're with the FBI.

McQUAID: Four weeks ago, in Pakistan, a warehouse guard was k*lled trying to stop a raid on U.S. m*llitary supplies.

The scene was processed by operatives working for Ceressus Logistics.

WILLOWS: Laura?

What are you doing here?

LAURA: My husband is helping out on a case with the police and the FBI.

Your husband's Mark Gabriel.

The sort of corruption you're implying is neither encouraged nor tolerated at Ceressus.

Get down!

WILLOWS: We know that Ceressus is implicated.

We just want to know how far up the ladder it goes.

WESSON: I tell you everything, I want immunity.

Lenny Wesson d*ed en route to a federal holding facility.

I heard something. By accident.

WILLOWS: He's a good lawyer.

He's Sam's guy.

I think you might need that.

MALCOLM TURNER: ...but what's gonna happen is that you've got to come in here, we gotta have a face-to-face.

And that's what we're gonna do.

Other than that...

RECEPTIONIST: Right.

TURNER: This can't go anywhere.

RECEPTIONIST: Yes.

What's the point?

Absolutely.

Okay. All right, I will.

That's right.

Right.

He has one more client.

All right. I'll have him call you back.

Joey, please.

You disposed of a body, I disposed of the case.

Aw, geez...

(groans)

A Mrs. Hobart is waiting.

Last appointment of the day?

Let me guess: Messy divorce?

Contested will?

I'll let you be surprised.

Excuse me.

Excuse me, did you hear what I said?

We don't need any water.

♪

(sobbing)

The office is closed.

(siren wails)

Who called this in?

Couple of campers, but, uh, they moved on.

Yeah, they didn't want to spend the rest of their camping trip talking to us.

Well, based on the pelvic bones, I'd say one male, two female.

If I was going to k*ll three people, I'd want a little more privacy.

Yeah, this close to the road...

Looks like a body dump to me.

VARTANN: Well, looks like they've been here a while.

Dermestes maculatus.

Hide beetles.

Nature's cleaning crew.

Depending on the weather conditions, they usually set up shop five to 11 days post-mortem.

So those guys should help narrow down the time of death.

Yeah, but a cold front and heavy rains blew through here a few days ago.

Don't hide beetles hate the cold?

Yeah. They like the rain even less.

So... these many bugs shouldn't still be here.

STOKES: And there's no way these bodies should be this badly decomposed.

Something's not right here.

Bugs don't lie.

♪ CSI 12x11 ♪

Ms. Willows Regrets Original Air Date on January 18, 2012

♪ Who... are you?

♪ Who, who, who, who?

♪ Who... are you?

♪ Who, who, who, who?

♪ I really wanna know

♪ Who... are you?

♪ Oh-oh-oh

♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪
♪ Are you!

ROBBINS: D.B., you may want to take a look at this.

RUSSELL: Jane Doe Number One.

Entry wound looks like a small caliber.

b*llet is copper-washed.

Looks like a .22.

k*ll sh*t.

She sustained at least five other GSWs.

Four perforating, through-and-through, caliber unknown.

And one penetrated.

I pulled this b*llet from the spinal column.

Well, that's definitely not a .22.

It's too long.

Xiomara will be able to tell us what it is.

You ever heard of anyone named Xiomara before?

No.

There was a Xiomara in my gross anatomy class.

And let me tell you, her anatomy was anything but gross.

If you know what I mean.

(laughing)

Okay.

I have bodies to wash.

Indeed.

Yeah.

I found similar beveling in our other Jane and John Doe.

As far as I can tell, they both sustained five g*nsh*t wounds to the torso.

All evenly spaced.

So Jane Doe Number One gets a k*ll sh*t to the head, and these other two got stitched across the chest.

Very precisely.

Looks professional.

I'll say this, all of our victims had excellent teeth.

Served them well in life.

May serve us in death.

I'm sending these over to Henry to pulp and process.

DNA may give us an I.D.

♪

Henry?

We're here.

What do you got?

I got your I.D.'s.

Victims were all in Missing Persons.

Ladies first.

Amelia Gross, 52, receptionist.

And Julie Blanch, 28, paralegal.

Both worked for...

Malcolm Turner, 64, attorney.

Didn't he work for your father?

How long did you say those bodies were out there in the mountains?

Nick wasn't sure. He thought maybe a week or so. Why?

Something wrong?

I hope not.

(line ringing)

Come on, Laura. Pick up.

Come on, come on, come on, come on...

Laura, why are you here?

Is it about Mark?

(line continues ringing)

LAURA: I'm scared.

Sometimes... I'm scared to even say something aloud...

Voice mailbox full?

LAURA: I took your advice.

I'm leaving Mark.

I talked to that lawyer.

He's arranging a meeting with the FBI.

I'm going to tell them everything I know.

...tell them everything I know.

WILLOWS: You're doing the right thing.

Where are you? Where are you?

WILLOWS: Do you need a place to stay?

I'm staying at our condo in town.

I want you to have a key.

Just in case.

WILLOWS: I went to Laura's condo.

Her things were all there, but there was no sign of her.

And the doorman hadn't seen her since Saturday night?

No.

You really think something's happened to her.

I do.

And I think I know who's responsible.

Well, we're about to find out if you're right.

BRASS: Thank you for coming in, Mr. Gabriel.

Didn't think we'd cross paths so soon.

What's happened to my wife?

Why don't you tell us?

I haven't seen Laura in two weeks, since she moved out of our place in Denver.

Since she talked to the lawyer you sent her to.

BRASS: Where'd she go?

She said she was staying at our condo here in Vegas for a while.

Marriage not going so well?

That's between me and my wife.

Well, now that she's missing, it's between you and LVPD.

No one is more concerned about finding Laura than I am.

I've been trying to reach her for days.

BRASS: We know.

Her voice mailbox is full of concerned messages.

You've been on the phone a lot.

Not only to your wife, but to her lawyer, as well.

Malcolm Turner.

So? We've spoken on the phone...

Not lately, I bet.

His office isn't taking any calls.

I came here because you said my wife was missing.

I came here to cooperate.

But I see this is going the same way my last interview here went.

So, let's end it the same way, shall we?

You can contact my attorneys.

Son of a bitch k*lled her.

I don't like the guy any more than you do, but let's just back up for a second.

Malcolm Turner wasn't just any lawyer, the guy was a fixer.

He had enemies.

And as far as we know, your friend Laura might just have run away.

Yeah, she ran to Malcolm Turner.

I sent her there because of him.

We know that Mark Gabriel dumped g*ns on the streets of Vegas.

And we can't prove it.

Because our best witness ended up dead.

Laura had information.

About what?

About Gabriel's business?

She was afraid to say.

So we're still not sure, right?

I'm sure that it got her k*lled.

Did you take their statements yet?

(chuckles)

No, they, uh... they lawyered up.

But I'm having a little trouble with their story anyway.

You know, I confirmed the weather conditions where we found the bodies.

Now, given the cold and the rain, we really shouldn't have found any beetles out there at all.

And the condition of the bodies suggests that bugs had been eating on them for at least a week.

Well, forget a week.

How about 14 hours?

What?

Vartann interviewed Malcolm Turner's widow.

She talked to her husband's receptionist around 8:00 last night.

Which means all our victims had to have been in the office around that time.

No, no-- 8:00 p.m.

Last night?

That's impossible.

The bodies were picked clean by this morning.

(rattling)

(beetles churring)

Have you eaten lunch yet?

Well, I hope they like it extra crispy.

(chuckles) No, they're actually a little bit smarter than we are.

They like it healthy, so I'll get the skin off here...

There you go.

Bon appétit, gentlemen.

(churring)

Now-now... now, wait a minute.

You know we can't eat in here, dude.

Well, I won't tell Russell if you don't.

Yeah, okay, sounds like a deal.

VARTANN: Surveillance confirms that Malcolm Turner and his staff arrived for work at 7:48 a.m.

Now, the phone logs say that they worked all day, and that they ordered lunch in.

No sign of them leaving?

Nope.

Their cars are still in the garage.

So how'd they make the big reverse commute back to the mountains?

SIDLE: It does not look like they were k*lled here.

BRODY: What?

They just vanished?

Janitorial came through at quarter to 9:00.

They found the place locked, nobody here, and they saw nothing out of the ordinary.

(Morgan laughs)

I gotta get these guys to clean my place.

Not a single smudge or print.

You know, the only janitor I know who's this thorough turned out to be a serial k*ller.

What do we know about this cleaning crew?

Same guys who've been cleaning this office every night for the last seven years.

BRODY: Okay.

So, if these guys didn't give the place the white glove treatment, who did?

(churring)

It's amazing.

They picked it clean in less than an hour.

Yeah. They eat even faster than you.

(wry laugh)

Well, they eat faster than any hide beetles I've ever seen.

Maybe that's why the decomp was inconsistent with T.O.D.

Super beetles.

STOKES: They're some kind of different, I'll say that.

Question is... how?

Genetic anomaly?

Freaks of nature?

It's definitely an entomological mystery.

Where did you come from, you little beasts?

(scoffs)

♪
♪

Whew.

(crying)

(screams)

(g*nsh*t)

This office is definitely our primary, but only you, me, the walls and the carpet know it.

And do you smell what I smell?

Nothing.

No bleach.

They used ethanol to destroy the DNA.

Smart.

Any blood, fingerprints, any trace of what happened in here is gone.

They even walked the bodies out of here without anybody noticing.

Call log said the last call came in at 8:07.

Janitorial crew got here at quarter to 9:00.

We're talking less than 45 minutes.

Russell said the hit was professional.

Clean-up was professional, too.

Who are these guys?

BRODY: I checked surveillance covering the 45 minutes it took our bad guys to k*ll and clean.

According to Skadden Springs, there were no scheduled deliveries last night.

Okay, so bogus delivery guy.

BRODY: That's not the only thing that was bogus.

We were wondering how they got the bodies out.

I think I can answer that.

At 8:02, three men delivered office furniture to the building.

And at 8:47, just as the janitors were entering the legal office upstairs, the same three guys came back out...

With the exact same furniture.

Maybe just a little heavier.

Oh, look!

There's our water guy again.

What do you want to bet, he was delivering ethanol?

"Jordan's Office Supply."

I ran it. Company doesn't exist.

(laughs)

These guys are good.

Organized.

Covert. Precise.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say they had m*llitary training.

Yeah, just like the army, every squad needs a squad leader.

Four paths converged in a service area, and they took the path most traveled by...

What're you getting at?

Walk these guys back out again.

Yeah, look at this.

"Hello, boss."

"Hey, nice work."

See, they're talking to each other.

"Ah, well done."

"Thanks, boss."

When was the last time you saw anyone wear a raincoat in Vegas?

I think I can answer that.

(typing)

Just after 8:00 p.m., guy in the raincoat got on the elevator.

Ten minutes later, he got off.

After the murders.

All right, so we got our cleaning crew and our hit team.

Let's take a closer look at these guys.

Pull their faces out of the crowd.

(churring)

Rest in peace, little man.

Hey, Nick. What's up?

Well, that's just it.

I'm not real sure, and I can use your help.

Okay?

Okay.

Greg and I did a little experiment with the beetles we found at the dump site.

They have an appetite unlike any other bug I've ever seen before.

Check that out.

Now... that explains how the bodies were picked clean in half a day, but doesn't explain this.

What am I looking at?

That's the beetle's equipment.

Enhanced.

Obviously.

And completely useless.

Well, my guess is, they were irradiated.

Where are you going with this?

I think someone's bioengineering these bugs.

I know it sounds crazy, but it's like something has switched off their "I'm full" button, made them great eaters, bad breeders, so they'd do their job, and they just disappear.

Along with their dinner.

Yeah.

Pretty crazy, right?

No. No.

That's... Actually, that's pretty consistent with Mark Gabriel and Ceressus.

That company is into all kinds of covert ops, weapons development, you name it.

(cell phone chimes)

Ballistics came back on our victims.

The main caliber used was a 5.7 by 28.

5.7 by 28.

That's the same caliber as the b*ll*ts that k*lled that ballistics expert last month, right?

That's the same caliber as the as*ault r*fles that went missing in Pakistan and ended up here in Vegas.

But I thought we got all those off the streets.

Apparently not.

Okay, but Mark Gabriel claimed he had nothing to do with those g*ns.

Yeah, just like he had nothing to do with his wife's disappearance.

(dialing)

So who you calling now?

The FBI.

AGENT PRATT: Look.

I'm sorry, a few b*ll*ts and bugs isn't enough for us to put the target back on Mark Gabriel.

What about his wife and her lawyer coming forward?

Laura Gabriel was coming to you with information.

So the FBI is brought in on a case, and nobody thinks to call me?

Jim...

Yeah, actually, no, it was my bad.

I-I called them.

I should've given you a heads-up.

Okay.

The heads-up can start now.

You remember Special Agents Pratt and McQuaid.

You're working the Ceressus case.

And they just agreed to provide background that might help us out on our current investigation.

Isn't that right?

That's about right.

RUSSELL: Because the truth is, you wouldn't have responded quickly to my phone call if you didn't think that Mark Gabriel was guilty of more than gunrunning.

Right?

We've had reason to believe that Ceressus's been engaged in a number of illegal activities here in the U.S.

BRASS: What illegal activities exactly are you talking about?

Full disclosure.

That would be refreshing.

We've been looking at Mark Gabriel for almost a year now.

We believe that Ceressus is heavily involved in gunrunning, corporate espionage, computer hacking-- the list goes on.

Bringing their international expertise to a domestic market.

Corporations.

Cartel Whoever's got the highest bid.

How about m*rder for hire?

Okay. I guess we take that as a yes.

Okay. What have you got?

A lot more than you think.

You know these people?

Yeah, we've seen them before, but we haven't been able to connect them to Ceressus or Mark Gabriel.

I mean, the guy doesn't make mistakes.

Thank you for the full disclosure.

As for the mistakes, I beg to differ.

He made three.

I'm sorry about your friend.

(sighs)

Me, too.

Look, I was going to call you, but...

It's probably better that you didn't.

(sighs)

Maybe we could...

We've got work to do.

Yeah.

Hey. Who was that?

He's Jim McQuaid with the FBI.

They're cooperating on the Gabriel case.

I ran down Laura Gabriel's financials.

She closed out her bank account five days ago.

Withdrew $28,000.

Sounds like she was scared.

Maybe she tried to go on the run.

Well, I don't think she got far.

Activity on her cell phone stopped the day before the hit at the law office.

You all right?

I will be.

When we nail Gabriel.

Mom.

What are you doing here?

I asked the desk.

They said it was okay.

Well, that's okay, but why are you here?

This came in my mail, but the card was meant for you.

"Catherine, sorry I couldn't make it.

I tried.

David Campbell."

David Campbell?!

I know.

Laura's father.

I-I-I...

I don't understand.

The man d*ed 20 years ago.

Catherine, what is going on?

Did something happen to Laura?

Has anyone else touched this?

Just me, the mailman and now you.

I'm going to have someone escort you home.

Card's the same story as the envelope.

Besides you and your mom, just partials; nothing usable.

I'll swab it for DNA.

Laura mailed the card a day before the murders at the law office and sent it directly from a post office in Pahrump.

She wanted to make sure you got it.

And make sure that Gabriel didn't intercept it.

That's why she sent it to my mom.

You really think Mark Gabriel is reading your mail?

I wouldn't put anything past him.

You and Laura close?

(laughs)

Yeah.

At one time, yeah.

When we were kids, Laura's house was like my second home.

Until Sam, her dad was like the closest thing I had to a father.

We were like sisters.

This card play music when you got it?

Well, no, but I just assumed it wasn't working.

Well, I think I know why you got cheated out of a birthday song.

This is a cell phone memory card.

JOHNSON: So I ran the memory card.

It's not Laura's.

It's registered to Mark Gabriel.

And this is all that's on it?

Ah, pictures of the Gabriels over the last year.

Why would Laura go to all that trouble to send me vacation photos?

If you didn't know any better, you'd think they had a pretty wonderful life.

You know, there was one picture, though, that seemed a little out of place.

Show me.

Yeah.

Some kind of weird self-portrait.

En-Enlarge it, please.

Yeah.

I know that house.

I've been there when I was a kid.

That's Laura's cousin's house.

(sirens wailing)

LVPD!

Blowflies.

Copper in the air.

(door creaking, banging)

Is it Laura?

It's Laura's cousin Helen... and Helen's husband.

Both sh*t in the head.

She took a b*ating.

So where's Laura?

When we were kids, we played here.

Laura's granddad grew up in the Depression.

Didn't trust banks.

So, when he built this house, he made sure that he would never need any banks to keep his money safe.

Laura!

RUSSELL (over phone): Laura Gabriel's alive?

Yeah. We found her hiding in a crawl space under the house.

Catherine's talking to her right now.

You think it's the same crew that hit the law office?

Oh, it doesn't look like it.

The place is a mess.

Unless they're losing their touch.

Maybe they got interrupted.

Okay.

Uh, finish processing the scene.

I'll let the FBI guys know.

I got it.

It happened so fast.

I heard them break in.

Helen told me to hide.

They had Derek.

They were yelling at him.

Helen was screaming.

Please don't sh**t him!

(g*n fires)

HELEN: No!

(sobbing)

Next thing I know, they were shouting at her.

Hitting her.

(sobbing): Please...

And then...

She wouldn't tell them.

They were b*ating her, and she still wouldn't tell them anything.

Could you tell how many there were?

No.

I heard one of them.

He got a phone call.

Sounded like he had an accent.

After that, they left.

When I heard footsteps again, I thought they'd come back.

I was sure that they'd find me.

(sobbing): But it was you.

Laura. Laura.

What is it that you know that has Mark so worried?

Remember when I told you I overheard something?

One night, Mark was in the study with a man.

They were talking about cleaning the offices of Stanley Merrill.

Why do I know that name?

Stanley Merrill was a m*llitary contractor, rival of Mark's.

Went missing 11 months ago.

Mark k*lled him. I know it.

You're here, so I'm assuming you got the card I sent?

Yeah, and the memory card with the photo that you took.

You knew that I'd recognize the house.

There were more photos on that memory card.

Yeah, the vacation photos.

More than that.

What do you mean?

When Mark conducted business, he always swapped out the memory card on his phone.

That one was in his pocket.

I took it.

I know Mark.

There has to be something more.

HODGES: There really is nothing more tedious than to have to sit through a slide show of somebody else's vacation photos.

My mother went to Anguilla over Christmas with her new boyfriend.

He's a regular Ansel Adams.

I sat through four hours of sand, sea and sunset.

I didn't know your mom had a new boyfriend.

Yeah, I don't want to talk about it.

Good. Me, neither.

What are you doing?

Catherine thinks there's some kind of information hidden in these images.

Steganography.

The art of embedding data within data.

So I'm analyzing the noise levels to see if there are any data packets embedded in these pixels.

Have you checked the noise levels on this marlin?

No, not yet.

Haven't gotten there. Why?

Well, I'm no expert, but this little Punxsutawney Phil of the sea isn't seeing his shadow.

You're right-- no shadow.

This fish has been Photoshopped.

These noise levels are off the charts.

There's definitely data embedded in this fish.

Let's gut it.

Running it through steganalysis decryption... now.

Numbers.

Could be a code?

Yeah.

PRATT: So, Mr. Martens, is there a reason why Mark Gabriel sent his number two instead of coming here himself?

Mr. Gabriel had an important conference.

He sends his regrets.

I'm sure he does.

PRATT: So, as the CFO of Ceressus, you're the money guy.

And legal counsel.

What's this about?

Well, we went on a little, uh, fishing expedition, and we found a bunch of numbers embedded in this image right here.

First, we thought that they were code, but then we realized that they were actually numbers and dates of transactions.

PRATT: Recording monies being wired from a subsidiary of Ceressus to a single account in a Swiss bank.

Where did you get this information?

Ah, well, that's all very cloak-and-dagger.

But here's where it gets interesting.

The actual dates of the transactions.

PRATT: 11 months ago, your boss's rival, Stanley Merrill, disappears.

And money goes to Switzerland.

I don't know anything about that.

Four weeks ago, Lenny Wesson, witness against Ceressus, dies in custody.

And money goes to Switzerland.

These numbers are meaningless.

Four days ago, Malcolm Turner, lawyer to your boss's wife, who'd agreed to come forward with information, is m*rder*d.

Once again, the Swiss economy gets a sh*t in the arm.

Now...

I know that your law degree is telling you that we don't have enough to make a case, but sooner or later, someone's going to talk.

And my common sense degree tells me sooner would be a lot better for you.

Look, I have no knowledge of this subsidiary of Ceressus, and I don't know anything about these transactions.

All right.

You know them?

These men? No.

This man, I'm sorry to say, I do.

Who is he?

A contractor who's done work for Ceressus abroad.

What kind of work?

I think you know the answer.

To my knowledge, we've never called on his expertise for any assignments in this country, nor would I ever sanction it.

Well, sounds to me like someone left you holding the bag.

Or perhaps given me reason to cooperate.

I'm going to need cover.

RUSSELL: Okay.

Now we're getting someplace.

I've got some good news.

You're not going to be alone in coming forward.

What do you mean?

Someone else has agreed to cooperate with the FBI.

Who?

Well, I can't say.

But what I can say is that you're going to get through this.

I hope so.

For all our sakes.

Yeah. - Sir...

MARK: Laura!

Laura!

Hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.

I can't let you in here.

I have the right to see my wife.

McQUAID: Actually, Mr. Gabriel, you don't.

Mr. Gabriel, I'm gonna have to ask you to stay out here.

Get him the hell out of here.

That's my wife!

She's a witness.

And she's going to bury you.

No, you're the one trying to bury me.

Oh, if I was going to bury you, I'd put you in the ground where they'd never find you.

Really? Is that a thr*at?

Do you need help finding the door?

We're not done.

(sighs)

Everything's going to work out, you'll see.

Thank you.

She's scared.

Yeah, well... she's got reason.

Wish I could say it'll go away with time, but I'd be lying.

You can never completely outrun your past.

I'm never going to see her again.

What about you?

Well, it's your call.

(sighs)

Transport team's here.

Don't worry...

I'll be with her the whole time.

♪

(speaking quietly)

BRODY: Name's Paul Obrecht, 54.

German native.

Emigrated to the U.S. when he was 16.

According to the Ceressus file we got off Gabriel's number two, Obrecht served in the m*llitary.

Army Special Forces.

Honorable discharge, 1989.

At which point, he became a soldier-for-hire.

Assignments in Africa, the Mideast, South America.

And now, apparently, here in the U.S., working for Mark Gabriel.

Laura said that the man that Gabriel hired to k*ll Stanley Merrill, the man that she heard at her cousin's house, had an accent.

These guys are pros.

Yeah, but they're not infallible.

And their loyalty is only to themselves.

Right.

So, if we catch them, maybe we can get them to flip on Gabriel.

Right.

FBI sent over the case file on Stanley Merrill's disappearance.

Putting our bad guys there, too.

Same cast of characters.

Including one we overlooked at the law firm.

And at Stanley Merrill's office 11 months ago.

Push in on the woman's face.

I just saw her.

Where?

At the hospital.

She's on the FBI transport detail.

How long ago did you lose contact?

Jim, we've got a situation.

Come on, Pratt, all your vehicles have GPS, right?

Where? When?

No, Willows identified her.

She's on the hit team, I'm sure of it.

Are you sure?

Well, keep me in the loop.

LVPD found them.

(siren whoops)

Sorry, guys, the FBI's got this one.

What happened?

Evidence on the ground suggests an ambush.

They took out the lead car.

The FBI guys never saw it coming.

And the car with Laura Gabriel and Agent McQuaid?

They tried to evade the sh**t.

Driver was hit first.

And then Laura and McQuaid.

And then they torched the car.

RUSSELL: Any witnesses?

No.

But I found these.

Seen those before.

VARTANN: Hope they were dead before the fire...

PRATT: ...probably a guy or two down here.

Trying to figure out if the convoy was off course or not, or if it was driven into this ambush...

How could you let this happen?!

CSI Willows, please.

How could you allow an assassin to infiltrate your protection team and got four agents and my friend k*lled?!

This is not the time.

Catherine, let's let them do their job, okay?

Oh, it's a little late for that.

This should be our crime scene.

You should be on the phone getting everybody down here!

All hands on deck!

Hey, hey, hey, listen.

Know how you're feeling right now, believe me.

I'm going to give you some advice someone gave me once.

Walk away.

Right now.

Walk away?!

Yes, go to the office, leave your notes on my desk, and then go home.

Just like that?

Yeah, just like that.

Don't let her drive herself.

(blip)

Do you want me to come in?

It's probably not a good idea.

Well, if you need anything, call me.

Okay?

(sighs)

Thanks.

You deserve more, Lou.

(engine starts)

♪

(g*nsh*t)

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

(groans)

(grunts)

♪

(tires screeching)

Get in!

Hurry up! Come on, come on!

Here they come!

WILLOWS: Go! Go!

(panting)

You okay?

I'll live.

Whoa!

Aah!

(Willows grunts quietly)

Ooh...

(gasping)