Help me, please!
Somebody help!
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪
NCIS. He--
- Morning, Monica.
- Good morning, sir.
- Hey.
- Calvin. What...?
Sorry to let myself in,
but nobody was out front.
Yeah, no, no,
my assistant's not here.
- It's not like her to be late.
- Yeah, well,
Monday mornings
are rough for everyone, right?
- - Yeah. What are you doing here, Cal?
What do you mean?
Our appointment's
not until tomorrow.
I just couldn't wait that long
to see Dwayne Pride
in a suit and tie.
- Yeah.
- Almost makes me look respectable.
- Almost.
You don't need
to stall, Doc.
What'd you find out?
Actually, nothing.
I reviewed the diagnostics
you sent me.
Cerebral angiogram was clear.
Blood flow normal.
No structural abnormalities.
Bottom line, your brain is
in perfect working order.
Exactly what my
neurologist said.
You seem disappointed.
'Cause, you know, usually,
patients are happy when
they find out they're okay.
I just, uh...
I just want to know
what's happening to me.
Ever since the sh**ting,
I've been seeing things.
Hallucinations?
Disconnected moments in time.
Disjointed memories.
People who aren't there.
Sometimes I can barely
tell 'em apart from reality.
Have you been sleeping?
Couple hours every night,
if I'm lucky.
Most nights I'm not.
Well, flashbacks, nightmares,
sleeping disturbances,
it's all textbook PTSD.
- PTSD.
Also what my neurologist said.
Your body has healed,
but your mind's still
playing catch-up.
You're gonna tell me
I need therapy?
And you're gonna tell me
you don't have time.
Which is why I am prescribing
Alprazolam for the anxiety,
Zolpidem, for the
sleepless nights,
and an SSRI cocktail just to
help you push through.
You know I'm not a fan
of pharmaceuticals.
And also know that you are
dangerously close
to a breaking point, Dwayne.
One way or another,
something's got to give.
Here.
Where you go from here,
that's entirely up to you.
Hannah.
What?
Yeah, I'm on my way.
- What's up?
- They just found my assistant.
State police picked her up
wandering on the side
of the road.
She was abducted by
a single male suspect.
He held her c*ptive.
- as*ault?
- She's pretty banged up.
Fortunately, the r*pe kit
results were negative.
- What else does she remember?
- I don't know yet.
She said she wanted
to talk to you first.
Hey.
Hi.
Ginny.
Special Agent Pride.
I'm so sorry.
Sorry about what?
You did exactly what
you were supposed to do, Ginny.
Survive.
No.
- I let my guard down.
- It's not your fault.
We're gonna get the guy.
I can promise you that.
But we're gonna need your help.
I never saw his face.
That's okay, just tell us
what you do remember.
This is Agent Khoury.
Hannah.
Hi, Ginny.
I met up with a...
couple of friends
after work on Friday.
We wanted to
hear some music,
have some drinks.
Where?
Uh, the Bacchanal.
We were...
all dancing,
feeling great.
Then all of a sudden,
I-I felt sick.
The room was spinning.
I-I only had one drink.
Suspect may have spiked it.
I know that I
should have
kept an eye on my drink,
shouldn't have left alone.
I know the things that
I'm supposed to do.
- Ginny, it's okay.
- I should have called a car.
I just felt so bad that I...
started walking.
- I thought the fresh air would help.
- In what direction
did you walk?
I don't know.
Next thing I remember is
waking up in that house.
Hanging there,
alone in the dark.
Tell us what you saw
after you escaped.
There were, um,
houses everywhere.
But no one was there.
They were all abandoned.
Like a nightmare.
Did you see any
street signs,
visual landmarks?
I can't remember.
Maybe if you take me out,
drive me around,
I'll see something
I recognize.
We can go now.
No.
You need to stay here and let
the doctors take care of you.
We can handle
the rest right now.
I can't sit here
and do nothing.
He's still out there.
He could hurt somebody else.
You said that you needed
my help.
I am willing to do
whatever it takes.
Just like you,
Special Agent Pride.
Pride?
Are you okay?
We need to...
We need to loop
the team in,
and, uh...
we need to somehow
narrow down the search area
and find that house.
Okay, I'll coordinate with NOPD.
Okay.
Ginny.
If the docs sign off,
we're gonna get you discharged,
and you and I are gonna
break this case together.
- Okay.
- Okay.
13 years after Katrina,
and there are still thousands
of blighted houses
across the city.
Most of these communities
look like ghost towns.
How are we supposed to find
one particular abandoned house
without any description?
Police picked Ginny up
deep in New Orleans East.
Even if she ran full
stride for an hour,
there's no way she'd
travel that far.
I mean, maybe six
to eight miles.
Cut that in half, there are
still 200 abandoned houses
she could have
escaped from.
Gonna take us
days to check 'em all.
- Perp be long gone by then.
- Yeah.
I might have a faster way
of finding him.
We're all ears.
So, the handcuffs
that Ginny was wearing
were standard issue,
just available at any
Army-Navy surplus store.
But I found blood traces
on the chain link, not Ginny's.
- Tell me you got a hit, Sebastian.
- Yeah.
This is Edward Lightell, drug
dealer and professional scumbag.
He's currently on parole
for two counts
of second-degree
sexual battery.
Ginny wasn't sexually assaulted.
Yeah, well, look at this creep.
It was just a matter of time.
We get an address?
Yeah, a halfway house
in Metairie.
But his P.O. says that
Lightell's been missing
for days.
However, I found his car
at a city impound lot.
Get this. It was towed
this morning from a street
in an abandoned part
of New Orleans East.
I'll call Hannah.
Pride, we just cleared
every house on the street
where Lightell's car
was parked; we got nothing.
Doesn't mean he's not
hiding here somewhere.
Okay, we'll expand
our search grid,
keep going until we
find something.
Any luck with Ginny?
Not yet.
But keep monitoring
our position
in case that changes.
Copy that.
Feels like whole pieces
of my memory are just gone.
Not gone, buried.
One of the ways our subconscious
tries to protect us from trauma.
You got to... dig through it
to get to the answers.
You say that like you know
something about it.
Well, maybe a little.
So, what can I do
to dig the pieces out?
I'm still trying to
figure that out for myself.
Oh, my God.
Ginny...
I remember that face.
- What?
- I was definitely here.
All right, look,
take a deep breath.
Block out the noise.
Try to focus on everything
you were seeing
and feeling in that moment.
Through there.
I came through that window.
Somebody help!
Okay, Ginny,
listen to me,
I want you to go
straight back to my car,
all right?
I want you to
lock the doors,
you understand me?
Ginny, you
understand me?
Yes.
Okay, go, go.
Pride, any news?
Yeah, we found it.
Southwest corner
of Mitchum and Grant,
white house, balcony.
Copy that. We're on our way.
I'm going in.
I see you found
Edward Lightell.
At least what's left of him.
This is why
I hate Halloween.
It's when all the freakiest
stuff happens around here.
I can't stop thinking
about how lucky Ginny was.
Yeah, well,
if she hadn't escaped,
she might've ended up
gutted, too.
Wade thinks
Lightell's been dead
for at least 48 hours.
All right, well, that clears him
of the kidnapping.
He was a victim, too,
at least in this case.
Puts us back to square one on
finding a suspect and a motive--
doesn't seem like
sexual as*ault anymore.
Ritualistic mutilation
really changes our profile.
You thinking serial k*ller?
Maybe, but there's
no obvious pattern.
Ginny Young and Ed Lightell
couldn't be more different.
So if we
find a connection,
we may be able to anticipate
the next target.
Yeah, might have something to do
with these markings that
were painted on the, uh,
crime scene walls.
- What are they?
They're definitely
West African in origin,
but there's at least
a dozen ancient religions
with symbols like that.
How do you know that?
I studied anthropology
in college for a hot minute.
I think our best bet is Vodun.
What?
- Voodoo.
- Ugh.
It really is Halloween,
isn't it?
Vodun is considerably
more peaceful
than pop culture would
have us to believe.
There is nothing peaceful
about human sacrifice.
Yeah, well, if that's
what happened here.
We need to consult
a local practitioner.
Either of you know any?
Why is it that you
never come to see me
for a cup of tea or to catch up?
It's only ever when
you think a Voodoo cult
has brutally m*rder*d
a poor, unsuspecting
sailor or such.
So these are Voodoo markings?
No, not Voodoo,
Dwayne, Santeria.
Well, they have a similar
origin and belief system.
Santeria came to America
from Cuba and Mexico.
Voodoo came from Haiti,
and none of them condone m*rder.
Well, in this case,
we have the k*lling
and desecration of a person,
and these markings suggest
a religious angle.
These are not the work
of a true believer,
just some nut who's
got his screws loose.
And you knew that
before you came in here.
So why are you really here?
I was hoping that these
symbols would help
lead us to the suspect,
that's all.
Appreciate your
time, Zaire.
Well, not so fast,
Dwayne.
- Let's talk.
- I'm fine.
You're anything but fine.
I could feel it off you
the moment you walked in.
You've got trouble.
Seems like you inherited more
than your grandmother's store.
You get her sixth sense, too?
I'm just observant.
Big bag of pills,
it's never a good sign.
Been through
a lot lately.
- Doctors say it's trauma.
- Sure.
But there's more to it.
You've experienced
something most people
never even come close to.
- Yeah, I was sh*t three times.
- Not that part.
You were on the other side.
I never said any...
It's written
all over you, Dwayne.
And I can see that it
feels like a burden.
Honestly?
I'd just like
to be able to
sleep without having visions.
These dr*gs can help.
Maybe.
But...
if you brew this
tea before bed,
I think it'll
do you better.
It'll stop the visions?
No, but it'll make it easier
to accept them.
Thank you.
He said in a placating tone.
Just try it, Dwayne.
Yeah, maybe, Zaire, maybe.
Okay.
Oh, and tell
your brother,
Jimmy, to come in.
I got something for him.
- How do you know that...
- Oh stop it, Dwayne.
I am not psychic.
He came in
the other day,
introduced himself.
Needed something
for his migraines.
- Autopsy already done, Doc?
- Ah.
Our k*ller did most
of the heavy lifting.
Emptied the chest cavity;
saved me some time.
Emptied it?
Like scooped everything out?
All Mr. Lightell's vital organs
were removed.
Heart, liver,
kidneys, lungs.
But this was no butcher job;
the parts were harvested.
- Harvested?
- I know it may not look like it,
but all of the vessels
were ligated with precision,
ensuring that
the organs
remained intact.
Whoever did this has
advanced medical training.
Not some psychopath
just running around
chopping folks up
for fun.
Especially when you consider
that both Ginny Young
and Ed Lightell had high doses
of ketamine
in their system.
- Horse tranquilizer.
- Not only that,
Lightell's toxicology
revealed traces
of physostigma venenosum,
known as the Calabar bean.
- Never heard of it.
- It's rare.
It's indigenous
to Southeastern Nigeria.
I'm guessing poisonous.
Extremely,
but in lower doses,
it acts as a paralytic.
Are you saying
someone
took out his organs
while he was still alive?
It would appear so.
You said these Calabar beans
are rare.
Especially in the States.
Well, if we find out
how the k*ller got them,
maybe we can find him.
So there are three
Nigerian nurseries
that export Calabar
all around the world.
But since it's categorized
as a poisonous plant,
FDA regulates importation
to the States.
Who's licensed
to receive it?
Pharmaceutical and
biomedical research labs.
Customs has cleared
four shipments
to the New Orleans area
in the last 12 months.
Yeah, one of them went to
a medical research facility
that shut down
three years ago.
New Orleans Institute of Health.
Courier says the package
was signed for
by an Ignacio Marquez.
What do we know about him?
Only that he
immigrated here
from Cuba last March
and that he never worked
for the New Orleans
Institute of Health.
Okay, call Lasalle,
tell him to meet us at
that research facility.
I checked the perimeter.
No sign of movement.
Entergy says the power's been
cut off to the whole building.
Hmm? Wait, you're
telling me I have to go
into Dracula's castle
in the dark?
You want me to hold
your little hand?
You touch me, Sebastian,
I'll sh**t you.
Come on.
This place is huge.
Let's split up.
Teams of two.
Sebastian, you're with me.
You all right?
No! We're in the creepiest
building in the world
searching for a
freak who likes
to cut people up.
Do I look all right?
Come on.
NCIS!
Don't move!
Get your hands up. Turn around.
Drop it.
Go!
Call for backup!
NCIS! Stop!
Marquez! On your knees.
Don't do it!
Stop!
Go, go check on Sebastian, go.
Sebastian.
Paramedics are on the way,
but it's too late.
I can't find a pulse.
- You sure?
- Yeah, I'm positive.
The vic on the table,
Daniel York,
is an accountant
at St. Tammany Parish.
Reported missing four days ago.
Yeah, and he was dead.
I was sure of it.
According to Doc Wade,
he was dosed heavily
with Calabar beans.
It slowed York's pulse.
Mine almost stopped
when he sat up.
Gregorio's, too.
Think she's pissed at me?
"Pissed" would be an
understatement, Sebastian.
But the good news is,
York's out of surgery
and expected to survive.
Yeah, well, the bad news
is our suspect got away,
he could grab somebody else.
We need to figure
out his pattern
and stop him before he does.
- We got an accountant
from St. Tammany,
Pride's assistant Ginny
and sexual predator
Lightell
all abducted
by Ignacio Marquez. Why?
Other than he likes to play
real-life Operation?
Actually, Marquez
is a doctor.
U.S. embassy in Havana gave me a
full background on our suspect.
Resident at
the Hospital de Curación
in Santiago, that is,
until he was fired
for performing unnecessary
procedures on mental patients.
Oh, okay, so he's legit crazy.
Spoke to a santero
from a local Santeria house
where Marquez was a member.
Got banned for being
too extreme.
Extreme how?
Organizing animal sacrifice.
He wanted to be part
of this blood ritual,
showed up with a gallon of
human blood to the service,
was forcibly removed.
Man, that's creepy,
even for New Orleans.
Yeah, but there is a method
to his madness.
Those Calabar beans he purchased
were not cheap.
And that medical equipment he's
using is top of the line, too.
This guy's flush with cash.
Where'd he get it?
Well, not from
practicing medicine.
Works nights as a janitor.
For a company that specializes
in disposing of medical waste.
Well, that gives him
access to hospitals,
research labs, universities.
And
transplant facilities.
Big business
in black market organs.
Yeah,
but transplants are regulated
by UNOS.
But tissue recovery
for medical research is not.
If the organs are
no longer viable,
they can be
legally donated or sold.
Well, that could explain how
Marquez is making his money.
Research labs will pay
big bucks for human parts.
Am I the only one completely
disturbed by that statement?
Well,
it's not about religion
for Marquez,
it's about greed.
Okay, I'm happy
to moderate this debate,
but after we catch him.
Ah, good timing, Dwayne.
Hannah will be here
any moment for my findings
on Lightell's autopsy.
But that's not why you're here.
Why else would I be here?
Oh, I imagine
you're about to tell me.
You remember Akia Dupre?
Owned the spiritualist shop
next to the Trutone?
d*ed last year.
Granddaughter Zaire
is running the place now.
She's turned it into a cafe.
She gave me some...
...special tea.
Want me to tell you
what's in it?
If it's not too much trouble.
Not at all.
Tell me the rest.
Let's skip the denials.
I'm still experiencing things
I can't explain.
Yes, you went to the doctor.
What did Calvin say?
That there was nothing
wrong with me.
At least not physical.
He prescribed some pills
to help deal with the rest.
Doesn't he know how you feel
about pharmaceuticals?
You know I'm not gonna
take them, but...
I need to sleep, Loretta.
And the tea's supposed to help?
Yeah. But not by covering up
the symptoms.
Zaire says
it'll help me
accept what's happening.
I may be a doctor,
but I know firsthand
that science doesn't
always have the answer.
Sometimes the
only way to find
what you seek is to travel
the alternate path.
Sorry.
Am I interrupting?
No. The show's just
about to start.
It's a skin sample
of Edward Lightell's abdomen.
And while examining it,
I found this puncture wound.
Looks like an injection site.
Well, based on location,
I'd say more likely
a percutaneous liver biopsy.
Why is that significant?
Because I confirmed the presence
of similar puncture wounds
in both Daniel York and Ginny.
And that's not the only thing
they have in common.
All three of them,
blood type O negative.
Marquez has been searching
for a specific liver.
That's why he
keeps his victims alive
while he's trying to find it.
He needs the liver
to stay viable because he needs
it for a live transplant.
Marquez works for a
medical waste company.
Cane Transplant Center is one
of their biggest clients.
And one of the only facilities
in the city
that would have a need
for a viable human liver.
Worth paying them a visit.
I'll have Gregorio
meet me there.
You're not gonna go with her?
No, she's got it handled.
I think I'm gonna
check on Ginny.
If Marquez still
hasn't found
what he's looking for,
Ginny could still be in danger.
- Thank you. Hey.
- Hey.
Nurse says Marquez picks up the
medical waste two nights a week.
- No contact with staff.
- Well, someone here
has to know him.
- And that someone would be me.
I heard you ladies were
asking about Ignacio?
Federal agents, actually.
I'm Special Agent Khoury.
This is Special
Agent Gregorio.
Anything you can tell us
would be helpful.
Not much to tell.
Uh, we sh**t the breeze.
We're both big soccer fans.
He, uh, seems like a decent guy.
When's the last time
he was here?
I don't know. Maybe a week ago?
Sorry-- what did he do?
Brent,
can we finish these
post-op reports
so I can get out of here?
Susan, these guys
are federal agents.
They're asking about Ignacio.
Oh, yeah. Nice guy.
He do something?
Susan
and I are fellows,
which means we get
all the paperwork.
And are the only other ones here
late at night
when Ignacio comes by.
But tonight might be an
exception if we can wrap it up.
Oh, we won't keep you
long, maybe we can
just grab a coffee and...
- Fellows don't drink coffee.
At least,
not my fellows.
Thank you, doctors,
you're relieved.
I'm Vincent Welles,
chief of surgery. The nurses
told me you had some questions.
We do.
Unfortunately,
I can't answer them,
as I'm sure you're aware
of HIPAA laws.
Nobody's asking you to violate
confidentiality, Doctor.
Why don't you at least
hear the questions
before you stonewall us?
Because my next 18 hours
are booked
with back-to-back surgeries.
You know, life-and-death stuff.
One of your vendors
is responsible
for multiple abductions
and at least one violent m*rder.
Also life-and-death stuff.
Ignacio Marquez might be
trying to sell donor livers
to one of your patients.
That's absurd.
The allocation
and distribution
of human organs
is the most regulated area
of health care.
And yet, people
are still paying
up to 150 grand for a single
black market liver.
Even if one of our patients did
secure a liver illegally,
I would never allow it to be
transplanted in my clinic.
I respect
your conviction, Doctor,
but there's a dangerous man
on the loose,
and something in your records
may help us find him.
The only way you're seeing those
records is with a court order.
Oh, well, good
thing I stopped
on the way, to get one.
Thanks for the update, Sergeant.
We got BOLOs out
at a dozen jurisdictions
and still no sign of Marquez.
Well, I just scoured
the Cane Transplant database.
I think I figured out
how Marquez
has been identifying
his victims.
So Ginny, Lightell
and York
were all registered
as possible organ donors.
All their personal information
is listed here
for Marquez to see.
Well, he was
an outside contractor.
How did he get access
to the database?
It could be somebody
on the inside.
I'll run background
on all the employees
who had access to the files.
I'll also review
Cane's security footage,
see who had contact
with our suspect.
All right, I'll
cross-reference the patients
waiting for a transplant.
One of them may have been trying
to jump their place in line.
Chris, there are at least
a dozen names on here
that have similar donor
characteristics to our victims.
I'll have the marshals put them
in protective custody.
Until we find Marquez,
none of them are safe.
Ginny, it's Dwayne.
I come bearing lunch.
Ginny?
Ginny.
All right. Wake up. Ginny.
Hey. You need to stay awake,
all right?
Wake up. Ginnny,
we need to get out of here.
Ginny.
What...?
No, no.
Stay right there.
No... no, Ginny.
Now how do you feel?
Like I've been run over
by a streetcar, twice.
Well, the naloxone should
counteract the effects
of whatever he
injected you with.
But it'll take
a little time to work.
Marquez took Ginny
in broad daylight.
He's reckless
and desperate,
and knows we're after him.
We are all out of time.
No, Hannah and the
team are doing
whatever they can to locate him.
I just... should have known
this was gonna happen.
- He got the drop on you, Dwayne.
- No.
Before that. I saw the signs.
The rock doves.
I-I just didn't understand
what they meant.
- Could you give us a moment, please?
- Yes, ma'am.
So what is it that
you didn't understand?
It was a warning.
That Ginny was in trouble.
Because of some doves?
When you say it like that,
it makes me sound like...
No, you're a lot of
things, Dwayne Pride,
but crazy isn't one of them.
It's called intuition.
Years of experience on the job.
- A sixth sense.
- No.
No. This was something else.
Hannah, please tell me
you found Ginny.
No, not yet, but a neighbor did
see Marquez loading her
into a black Toyota.
We got three agencies assisting
with the manhunt.
Well, he came after Ginny twice.
She must have the liver
that he needs.
Yeah, and whoever
he needs it for
probably can't wait much longer.
We need to track down
every doctor in this area
who has the training required
to perform the transplant.
Well, I would ask Dr. Welles
for a list, but after
our last conversation,
I doubt he'd cooperate.
Well, I'm not gonna
give him a choice.
I'll drive.
I'm fine, Loretta.
I'm fine, I'm fi...
Dwayne.
Give me your keys, Dwayne.
If you're nice, maybe I'll
let you pick the music.
Hey. Check this out.
I've gone through 500 patients'
files, and only one of them
was incomplete: Skylar Samms.
- Well, what's missing?
- We got an address,
phone number, fake social,
but no photo, medical history
or insurance records.
You run the address?
Defunct auto parts store
in Lakeview.
I even checked with the DMV.
There's no records
of her at all.
Huh.
Well, it sounds like
Skylar Samms is an alias.
I do have a surgeon's reference:
Vincent Welles.
He ordered a full battery of
pre-op diagnostics a week ago.
I don't get it.
Why would the chief of surgery
want to conceal
his patient's identity?
Because he doesn't want anybody
to know he's implanting
a black market liver.
We want to find Ginny Young, we
need to identify Skylar Samms.
I'm open to suggestions.
What was the date and time
of her last pre-op test?
Tuesday, 4:30 a.m.
- When nobody else was around.
- Yeah,
except the all-seeing eye
in the sky.
There she is.
Say hello to Skylar Samms.
I know that girl.
Excuse me. Federal agent.
We need to speak
with Dr. Welles right away.
I'm sorry. He's already
left for the evening.
Are you sure?
Can you check again?
I saw him walk out
a few hours ago, but...
That's strange.
Key card log says
he's still in the building.
What do you got?
The name of the patient
waiting for Ginny's liver
is Dr. Susan Francis.
Doctor?
Yeah. Tammy and I met her.
She's a fellow
at the transplant center.
Francis got a donor liver
a few years back,
but had complications.
So she hired Marquez
to find a new one?
The other fellow,
Brent Stokely, created
a false patient profile.
The two have been dating
since med school.
What about Welles?
Why would he risk
everything to help them?
I'm not sure
that he is helping them.
At least, not by choice.
There's a good chance
Welles's signature was forged
on Francis's pre-op orders.
Can Stokely do the surgery
by himself?
According to the experts
I spoke to, no.
All right, I think the operation
is happening right here and now.
Send backup.
Okay.
Excuse me. You need to take us
to the operating rooms.
Right now.
I can't. I'm-I'm not authorized.
- Listen...
- Dwayne. This way.
Dwayne, over here.
They're operating on
Susan and Ginny.
Stay here.
Welles, Stokely,
you stop what you're doing
right now.
I can't.
He's forcing me.
Loretta.
Oh, God.
Stokely, step away from Ginny
and put down the scalpel.
Or what? You'll sh**t?
If my hand slips
even the slightest bit,
I'll nick the abdominal aorta
and the patient will bleed out
in 60 seconds.
He's right, Dwayne.
Now hang tight
while I save Susan,
or they both die.
Ginny doesn't
deserve this, Stokely.
Whatever you think can be
gained here, you're wrong.
Don't let anyone else get hurt.
Keep quiet.
I'm trying to concentrate.
Brent, this is insane.
If you had helped her
from the beginning,
none of this would be happening.
- I tried.
You made one phone call.
That's all.
UNOS denied her status.
What more could I have done?
They shouldn't get to decide
who lives and dies.
Isn't that what you're doing?
Choosing one life over another?
Susan is a brilliant doctor.
Her survival will benefit
hundreds of patients.
Not this way it won't.
Her medical
career is over.
And so is yours.
Either way, she lives.
It's a price
I'm willing to pay.
Now back off.
Susan's heart rate's dropping.
She's crashing.
What did you do to her?
Her body was too weak, Brent.
I'm so sorry.
Get out of my way. Susan?
She's gone.
- No!
- Ah!
You okay?
- Yeah.
- Ginny's crashing.
He's already bisected
the portal vein.
- Doctor, your arm.
- I'll be fine.
Keep the lap pads coming.
Prep for a lateral venorrhaphy.
It's our only chance.
She's bleeding out, Doctor.
Come on, Ginny.
Hang on, hang on.
We're losing her.
We're losing her.
Knock, knock.
Special Agent Pride.
We've faced death together
at least twice.
Think you can
call me Dwayne now.
Heard you took a victory lap
around the floor.
Two, actually.
I'll be back to work
in no time.
Hey, the last thing
you need to do
is push yourself too hard.
I speak from experience.
How can I ever repay
what you did for me?
By getting better.
And putting all of this
behind you.
You make that sound easy.
Well, God knows it isn't.
But I'm learning there's
no reason to look back
unless you're planning
on going that way.
I promise you, I have
no intention of doing that.
Me, neither.
Lemongrass,
pomegranate flowers
and goji berries.
It's all natural,
no magic.
I had it analyzed.
Good work, Detective.
But I'm pretty sure
you missed the point.
You want me to abandon
all logic...
I want you to accept
that some mysteries
are not meant to be solved.
That's just not easy
for someone like me.
Even more reason to take
a leap of faith.
Trust that the
universe will provide
everything that
you need.
And what you need
the most right now...
...is to get some rest.
Dwayne, Dwayne, Dwayne.
Hannah, will you tell her
that she's got to put
the ears on, please?
Wow.
I thought you hated Halloween.
She's had a bit of
a change of heart.
I did not. I still hate it.
Well, why are you going
out with me, then?
Because I owe you, for scaring
the living crap out of me
at that abandoned lab,
and because
payback's a bitch, right?
- I got a plan to get him back.
- Okay, all right.
That's fine. This is gonna be
the worst Halloween of my life.
You're welcome to join.
Maybe next time.
I'm actually, I think
I'm gonna chill out here.
I was gonna watch a--
maybe a movie...
Oh, Sebastian,
put the damn ears back on
and move your tail.
Night, Hannah.
Meow.
Meow.
Trick or treat!