-------------------- ZAPPING -------------------
[Bikini club; music playing, indistinct shouts; young men are watching dancers and enjoying! One of them stands up]
MAN: Gentlemen...a toast to the Navy's...best damn Airedale!
[They laugh and drink a toast, whooping]
MEN: Happy birthday, Flash! Happy birthday! Happy birthday, Flash!
FLASH: Thanks, guys.
[The first guy waves to a girl, she comes closer]
WOMAN: Ah, you ready for private dance?
[A man whoops]
MAN2: Oh, my goodness.
FLASH: No, I'm sorry.
WOMAN: Oh, come on, birthday boy, let's have some fun.
FLASH: Maybe later.
MAN: How much is this gonna set us all back?
WOMAN: A hundred dollars for ten minutes.
FLASH: See, that's a problem. See, I didn't go to the ATM.
MAN: All right, boys, let's pony up.
FLASH: Um...
MAN: Shut up. $120, tip included.
FLASH: Guys... Really?
[They laugh, he groans and stands up, following the woman while his buddies whoop]
FLASH: You know, you're all going to hell.
MAN: Yeah, we are. Whoo!
MAN2: Happy birthday, buddy.
MEN [chanting]: Flash! Flash! Flash! Flash!
[Private room for VIP; “champagne room”]
WOMAN: So, what's your name?
FLASH: Joshua.
WOMAN: And why do your friends call you "Flash"?
FLASH: Because...
[He looks a little sick; he coughs]
FLASH: because my last name's Gordon.
[He’s sweating]
WOMAN: Are you okay?
FLASH: Yeah, I'm, uh...I'm good.
WOMAN: Here you go, honey.
[She pushes him back onto the couch; he exhales]
WOMAN: You just...sit back... and relax.
[She pulls off her shirt; he hears her voice distorted, echoing]
WOMAN: You okay?
[He groans quietly]
WOMAN: Hey!
[He faints]
WOMAN: Hey, wake up.
[She goes back to the main room]
WOMAN: Yo, fellas. Come get your guy--he's too drunk for dance.
[Two of his buddies follow her]
MAN2: What do you mean drunk?
MAN: I remember my first beer.
MAN2: No, that's impossible, he didn't have anything to drink.
[Guy has froth in the mouth; the woman gasps and howls]
MAN2: Hey, call 911! Lay him down.
[♫ In the main room, a woman falls down ♫]
MAN2: Is he breath...is he breathing?
[He hears the answer distorted]
MAN: I can't feel a pulse.
[Man2 falls down, the woman screams again]
MAN: Corpsman, help! Corpsman!
[♫ He tries to resuscitate Flash ♫ the others check his buddy…♫)
♫ ♫ NCIS: LA 4x20 ♫ ♫ Purity ♫ ♫
♫ ♫ Original Air Date on April 9, 2013 ♫ ♫
[NCIS office. Kensi is rummaging her desk]
SAM: You looking for something?
KENSI: Not anymore. Found it.
[She shows a sheet of paper]
DEEKS: What'd you lose this time?
KENSI: Nothing. Just a op report from Santoso's condo.
SAM: That was due last week.
KENSI: Well... hey!
[Deeks has grabbed the paper- he’s reading]
DEEKS: Vacation request submission, 2011. 2011? Wow, really? If you built a time machine and didn't tell me about it, I am gonna be pissed.
CALLEN: Morning. What's up?
SAM: Kensi seems to have lost something.
DEEKS: Shocking.
KENSI: I misplaced my W-2 form.
CALLEN: What, your wage statement?
SAM: You could just request another one.
KENSI: Do you know how long that takes? April 15 is next week.
DEEKS: You haven't filed your tax return?
KENSI: Oh, and I suppose you have?
DEEKS: Are you kidding me?
KENSI: You're such a geek.
DEEKS: Really? Sam, Callen?
SAM: Met with my accountant in February.
KENSI: You have an accountant?
SAM: Mortgage, charities, kids, itemized deductions. It gets complicated.
CALLEN: I did mine last week. No dependents. The E-Z form takes, what, two minutes.
DEEKS: And just for the record, I e-filed mine on January 31 and just got myself a handsome refund of $1,900.
SAM: How'd you pull that off?
DEEKS: Schedule D. Uh, expenses as a detective.
CALLEN: Deeks, you're an employee. Only independent contractors can claim work-related expenses.
DEEKS: Yeah, tell that to my checking account.
KENSI: You can get me a refund?
[Deeks scoffs]
DEEKS: You kidding me? Piece of cake, just give me your social.
SAM: I wouldn't.
CALLEN: Definitely not.
DEEKS: Come on. If you can't trust your...
[Weird whoopee whistle blows]
ERIC: Leftover from April Fool's!
[OPS center. Footage from the champagne room surveillance camera playing on large screen]
ERIC: Lieutenant Joshua Gordon, pilot for the Carrier Airborne Early Warning Squadron out of Point Mugu.
NELL: His birthday celebration took a fatal turn in the VIP lounge of a bikini bar in Oxnard.
DEEKS: Mm, I can think of worse ways to go.
[Kensi glares at him]
DEEKS: What?
[Kensi groans- and looks at Eric]
KENSI: Cocaine causes seizures.
ERIC: Uh, close. Also starts with a "C," ends with an "E." Anyone? Anyone? Ding, time's up. We were looking for cyanide. Cyanide.
CALLEN: Someone poisoned him?
NELL: Poisoned them. We also have a dead dancer, and...Flight Officer Randall Baker should be released from the hospital sometime today.
ERIC: The poisoning victims weren't drinking any alcohol; they were only drinking water.
DEEKS: Ah, the dangers of abstinence.
SAM: How much cyanide did they ingest?
NELL: Not much. A quarter teaspoon is deadly within minutes.
CALLEN: And how did the cyanide get in the water?
HETTY: Isn't that just the $64,000 question? Mr. Beale?
ERIC: Jihadist groups are taking credit for the attack on the Internet.
[He puts a text onto the screen in Arabic]
SAM: "Those who poisoned our land with war shall be poisoned on their own soil. More attacks to come."
CALLEN: Pull up everything on local cells.
SAM: Nah. This message is full of spelling errors, bad grammar. I doubt if this is the work of an Arabic speaker.
HETTY: Someone could be pointing a finger, trying to deflect the blame.
KENSI: Okay, well, where does one get cyanide?
ERIC: Lethalpoisons.com.
CALLEN: Let's track down potential sources in the area.
KENSI: We'll take the bikini bar.
DEEKS: What? We will?
KENSI: I don't like to see him beg. And plus, he would mope all the way to Point Mugu if we didn't.
DEEKS: This is fantastic news, but I don't beg.
KENSI: Oh, you beg.
DEEKS: I definitely don't mope.
KENSI: Mm.
DEEKS: 'Cause you're the moper. You're, like, Mopey Dick.
[Bikini bar. Detectives are at work]
DEEKS: Well...
KENSI: Hm. Feel free to take the pole for a spin.
DEEKS: Oh, touché. I'm, uh, seeing the bar. Not a lot of bikinis.
DETECTIVE: Ah, we interviewed the girls and sent them home.
DEEKS: You sent the...girls home? That's good. Nice-nice work.
DETECTIVE: We traced the cyanide to this watercooler.
KENSI: You sure about that?
DETECTIVE: Verified by Hazmat. Tap water was pure.
[He pours drops of something into a glass of water- it becomes blue]
DETECTIVE: Here...we have a positive Prussian Blue test.
DEEKS: Shouldn't we be wearing masks?
DETECTIVE: Oh, no, no, no, that's...hydrogen cyanide is a gas. This is potassium cyanide--it's a salt that dissolves in water.
DEEKS: Mm.
DETECTIVE: Got no evidence of tampering.
KENSI: Who changed the bottle?
DETECTIVE: Janitor by the name of Zaki Faheem.
DEEKS: He could've put the cyanide in when he took off the cap.
DETECTIVE: Doesn't look like he did. Take a look.
[He puts onto his tablet footage from surveillance camera: Faheem is changing the bottle]
DETECTIVE: New water bottle at 22.35. Three poisonings at 22.47. Found the cap in the trash with a pinhole in it. Looks like someone injected poison in advance.
DEEKS: What do we know about the janitor?
DETECTIVE: No hits on the DHS terrorist database.
[He is a Saudi Arabian]
KENSI: Has anybody talked to Faheem?
DETECTIVE: Not at home; cell phone's off. We've got a BOLO out.
KENSI: What about friends, relatives in the area?
DETECTIVE: Checking right now.
DEEKS: How many cameras you got in the Champagne Room?
DETECTIVE: Three.
DEEKS: You know, we're obviously gonna have to review last night's footage.
[Kensi stares at him]
DEEKS: What? That is a legitimate request. You'd watch the tapes, right?
DETECTIVE: Well, yeah...definitely.
DEEKS: Definitely. We can watch them together.
KENSI: Ew!
DEEKS: What?! Now who's moping?
KENSI: I'm not moping. You're just creeping me out.
DEEKS: What are you talk...I'm trying to keep America safe here. I'm catching bad guys.
[Boatshed.]
BAKER: Uh, I remember Crawford starting CPR on Flash, and then I woke up in the hospital, sir.
CALLEN: I understand that last night at the bar you were drinking water?
[He puts a water pitcher and a glass on the table]
BAKER: I'm not one for alcohol.
SAM: And Lieutenant Gordon?
BAKER: Water as well, sir. I only had a few sips, but he came from the gym and downed his pretty quickly.
SAM: Within the squadron, Lieutenant Gordon have any conflicts?
BAKER: No, sir. Everyone had tremendous respect for the man.
CALLEN: He never got in any arguments?
BAKER: It wasn't in his nature. I only ever heard him raise his voice once.
SAM: When was that?
BAKER: About a year ago. To counsel a...under-performing aviation machinist mate.
CALLEN: You got a name?
BAKER: …Fryman. But, uh, he's no longer in the service. He didn't get along with anyone. He received an...other-than-honorable discharge.
[He clears his throat and helps himself with water; his hand is shaking]
BAKER: It's a, uh... side effect from the lack of oxygen to the brain. It should get better in time.
[Back alley; Deeks is checking garbage containers]
KENSI: So, what are we doing down here?
DEEKS: When I drank beer in high school, where would I leave the bottles?
KENSI: Not in your garbage can.
DEEKS: And not in the can next-door. At least three houses down. Hence the long walk from the Bikini Bar. Wait for it.
[He takes a run up and jumps into a container]
KENSI: You can't...Deeks...Aw...
[Deeks grunts]
KENSI: That can't be safe.
[He starts rummaging]
DEEKS: Don't worry. If I get my, uh, clothes dirty at work, I consider them a uniform. Deductible. See, the secret is to write off anything that vaguely relates to work, so say for instance I were to rent a, uh, a heist movie, then I would consider that professional research. If I were to...
KENSI: Go to jail for tax fraud?
DEEKS: Undercover assignment.
KENSI: If you smell like garbage, you're taking the train home.
[He has found a big syringe]
DEEKS: Bam! See what that is? Huh? That's probably gonna be the murder weapon. Oh, wow, this place is a treasure trove of good stuff.
[He has found a leopard shoe]
DEEKS: Think that's gonna fit?
[Kensi has pulled out her phone]
DEEKS: I know how much you love leopard print.
[OPS center.]
NELL: Yeah, how's it going, Kens?
KENSI: [over com] Uh, we found a syringe that might test positive for cyanide.
NELL: Nice. We just sent you an address for Zaki Faheem's cousin. Zaki's car was parked out front.
[Alley]
KENSI: Okay, we'll check it out.
DEEKS: The good news is the bad guys only had a small amount of poison.
[OPS center.]
ERIC: Au contraire, mon frère.
NELL: There is a 200-pound drum of potassium cyanide missing from a silver plating factory in Tujunga.
[Alley]
DEEKS: …200 pounds??
[OPS center.]
ERIC: Do the math. That's enough to send 800,000 souls to heaven.
[Alley]
KENSI: So this was just the test. Big one is yet to come…
[She exchanges a worried look with Deeks]
-------------------- ZAPPING -------------------
[A table outside; a man with 6 boys writing – Callen and Sam come up]
MAN: All right, you guys, here we go. Here's one for you. X plus five times X minus two.
CALLEN: You sure we got the right Fryman?
SAM: Doesn't look like a troublemaker.
BOY: X squared plus three X minus ten.
MAN: Awesome, Alex. Way to go. Want to show me how you foiled the problem?
[He hands a board to Alex]
SAM: God, I love algebra. It's logical, it's clean.
CALLEN: That's right, you used to be a mathlete.
SAM: No, I wasn't a mathlete; I was a Junior Math Olympian. It's big difference.
CALLEN: Uh-huh. You guys weren't allowed to count on your fingers or something?
MAN: Ready, everybody? Bring it in. Winners never quit. And break!
ALL: Yeah!
[School bell rings]
SAM: Dominic Fryman?
FRYMAN: Uh, Dom.
CALLEN: Agents Callen, Hanna. NCIS.
[They show their IDs]
ALEX: Uh, Dad, you coming?
FRYMAN: Uh, yeah. I'll meet you right there. Just hit some ground balls and I'll be there in a little bit. How can I help you guys?
SAM: You heard about Lieutenant Gordon?
FRYMAN: Yeah. That's, uh, that's very sad news.
SAM: You ever make it up to Oxnard?
FRYMAN: Seriously? It was parent-teacher night.
CALLEN: We heard you two didn't get along.
FRYMAN: I didn't get along with the entire navy. I was deployed at sea, I was away from my son for months.
SAM: It's a calling.
FRYMAN: My son was my calling. I wanted to be a real dad.
CALLEN: Can you think of anybody who might want to harm Lieutenant Gordon?
FRYMAN: You know, funny thing about Gordon is no wife, no girlfriend, never dated. A few of us wondered if he was gay.
SAM: "Don't ask, don't tell" was repealed in 2010. He could have been open.
FRYMAN: Seems like the guy had a lot of secrets.
[Kensi sighs- she’s in her car with Deeks and staring at an “income tax deduction worksheet” form…]
KENSI: This is just far too complex. I'll just use the E-Z form.
DEEKS: It's like burning your paycheck.
KENSI: Well, maybe I want to do my part to pay down the federal deficit.
DEEKS: So do I. We should have a bake sale. I mean, I make a mean snickerdoodle.
[They hear a door closes: a man is leaving the house; they hurry out of the car]
KENSI: Eric, the janitor's exiting his cousin's house.
DEEKS: Mr. Faheem?
KENSI: Federal agents.
DEEKS: Sir.
[Guy runs]
DEEKS: No. I got the back. Cover the street.
[He chases the guy, spots him climbing a gate; a dog is barking]
DEEKS: No, no, don't.
[Guy is already on the other side – Deeks runs forwards, and the dog appears -barking, growling]
DEEKS: Really?
[He starts climbing; the dog catches his pants- he yells]
DEEKS: Ah!
[Kensi is cuffing Faheem – she hears Deeks shouting, the dog growling]
DEEKS: [Voice] Damn!
[Then a gunshot and dog whimpers…]
KENSI: Deeks? Faheem is down. Where are you?
[He chuckles: he’s here, with only one shoe and torn pants]
KENSI: What happened?
DEEKS: Uh, I was attacked by a hellhound.
KENSI: You shot a dog?
DEEKS: No, I didn't shoot him. It was just a warning shot, but his pointy little ears are gonna be ringing for a few hours.
KENSI: And this?
DEEKS: What this? Oh, he just stole my shoe and ripped my pantaloons. Don't worry. That's deductible.
[He grunts: they grab Faheem’s arm, pull him up]
DEEKS: Up. As is the Band-Aids, antibiotic cream, deductible. Tetanus shot, deductible. The two-hour Swedish massage because of my sore muscles, deductible.
[Boatshed. Deeks enters in the interrogation with new pants and 2 shoes…]
DEEKS: So, if you're innocent, why'd you run?
FAHEEM: I thought you were going to hurt me. I have been the victim of hate crimes... twice.
KENSI: We said we were federal agents.
FAHEEM: Does he look like a federal agent?
DEEKS: He's got a point there.
FAHEEM: Besides, in my country, the police are not so friendly.
DEEKS: You called in sick today. You look pretty healthy to me.
FAHEEM: I heard about the man who died. They will blame me. The bouncers, they are not so enlightened. I was afraid of...How do you say, "vigilante justice"?
KENSI: You sound like a pretty smart guy.
FAHEEM: I have a degree in Comparative Literature.
DEEKS: And you're working at a strip club?
FAHEEM: I got to pay the bills. Two of the girls who dance there are working on graduate degrees.
DEEKS: God bless America.
FAHEEM: Look, I don't like this job. I don't tell my family about it.
KENSI: You didn't tamper with the water?
FAHEEM: No.
DEEKS: You didn't help anyone else gain access to the water jug?
FAHEEM: Absolutely not.
KENSI: We're gonna comb through every text, every e-mail, everything.
DEEKS: And if we find any link to terrorism, you're gonna spend the rest of your life behind bars. You understand that?
FAHEEM: I understand.
KENSI: Did any customers seem odd to you? Suspicious?
FAHEEM: Only about 90% of them. But there was this new guy with a beer belly. He came two nights in a row with a lot of questions. Wanted to know if there were any job openings.
DEEKS: You think you can I.D. him off a security tape?
FAHEEM: I can try.
[Callen helps a woman pulling up a wooden door – the basement of the silver plating factory in Tujunga]
SAM: You go through a lot of cyanide?
WOMAN: It's the standard solvent for gold and silver plating. Last week we signed for five barrels, and now there's only four.
CALLEN: How does a 200-pound barrel just walk away?
WOMAN: Good question.
CALLEN: Who has access to this elevator?
WOMAN: Security opens for deliveries and spent material pickup. We're combing through the surveillance footage now.
CALLEN: Is the powder loose inside?
WOMAN: No. It's sealed in heavy plastic in case the barrel gets damaged.
[They open one barrel]
SAM: Whoa.
WOMAN: It-It shouldn't be like that.
CALLEN: I brought the kit.
[They test the powder – it doesn’t turn blue]
CALLEN: That's negative for cyanide.
[Sam wants to taste it]
WOMAN: I wouldn't do that if I were you.
[But he ignores her]
SAM: It's ordinary table salt.
CALLEN: They probably all are.
[He opens the other barrels]
CALLEN: I've got two more containers that are unsealed.
SAM: Why take just one barrel?
CALLEN: Maybe someone interrupted them when they were switching them out.
SAM: That's a thousand pounds of cyanide.
CALLEN: That's enough to kill four million people.
[OPS center. Sam and G are back; Deeks and Kensi are already here]
CALLEN: Status of the Bikini Bar?
DEEKS: No fingerprints on the syringe.
KENSI: The water jug storage area is off-camera and hidden in an alcove.
CALLEN: What about Zaki Faheem's electronic footprint?
ERIC: Uh, clean as a whistle. He hasn't even looked at a porn site in three years.
DEEKS: Wait, you can tell that sort of thing?
[They stare at him]
DEEKS: I'm just kidding.
SAM: Lieutenant Gordon's sexual orientation?
NELL: He was practicing celibacy as part of a Buddhist sect.
KENSI: All right, who would want to kill a peace-loving Buddhist?
DEEKS: A Hindu from Sri Lanka. Emperor of China. A Bengal tiger. Am I the only person coming up with ideas here?
SAM: The factory's security cameras gave us nothing. No one was seen tampering with the barrels.
CALLEN: The next step is to trace the delivery chain from the cyanide factory to the plating plant. Something had to have happened along the way.
[Hetty comes in]
HETTY: Mr. Beale, would you turn on the news channel?
[Eric puts the ZNN channel on screen]
MAN:...San Fernando Valley, where a freak series of heart attacks has kept paramedics on their toes in this Chatsworth neighborhood. The 911 calls came within five minutes of each other from three different homes.
KENSI: Cyanide?
SAM: The heart is the first to go.
DEEKS: They could all be using the same bottled water service.
CALLEN: Well, let's hope so. Because if that's not the case, it's in the city's drinking water…
-------------------- ZAPPING -------------------
[NCIS office. Agents’ desks]
ERIC: Cyanide was confirmed as the cause of death in all three cases.
NELL: Only one house on the block was getting bottled water delivery.
CALLEN: Metropolitan Water District has sensors throughout the system that can detect contaminants.
KENSI: Well, they didn't work very well last night.
SAM: Well, they're not on every block. This was a local attack. No other casualties means the cyanide diluted in the system quickly.
DEEKS: You can't go public with a "do not drink" order. You'll have hospital gridlock from everybody with a...headache, stomach pain, dizziness.
KENSI: Hoarding of bottled water. Fights at grocery stores.
DEEKS: Widespread panic.
SAM: That could be the terrorist's goal.
CALLEN: Eric, pull up any information on recent rentals or vacant houses in the neighborhood. We'll keep working on the cyanide delivery. Kensi, Deeks, check the water supply in the Chatsworth neighborhood.
HETTY: Excuse me. Ms. Blye will stay above, and Mr. Deeks will go below.
[She hands Kensi an ID and Deeks a uniform]
DEEKS: What's this? Wastewater Engineer?
SAM: Sewer worker!
DEEKS: Whoa. Whoa, whoa. But no, like, open trenches, right? Like that crazy scene from Les Mis?
HETTY: Au revoir, monsieur Deeks.
DEEKS: Oh. Mon "due."
KENSI: Mon Dieu.
DEEKS: Mon Dieu.
[Kensi –water ambassador- presses the bell button of a house; a woman opens the door]
KENSI: Hello, I'm Kelsey Blake, Water Ambassador with the utility district.
[This time a man is listening]
KENSI: Hello there. How would you like to cut your water bill by 50%?
[An old man]
KENSI: We're giving away complimentary low flow showerheads with free installation today. All I have to do is inspect your faucets and plumbing, and I can offer you even more money saving tips.
MAN: Sounds good to me.
[Deeks is underground]
DEEKS: How's it going up there?
[Kensi is leaving the house of the old man who’s gardening]
KENSI: Nothing toxic but a moldy shower curtain. How about you?
DEEKS: Everything's shipshape, but I keep hearing footsteps. Either there's a really large rat or Javert is closing in.
[Garden]
KENSI: Hey, Eugene. I'm all done.
EUGENE: Would you like a cup of tea?
KENSI: I would love a cup of tea, but I have so much work to do. Thank you.
EUGENE: Did you go next door?
KENSI: No, not yet.
EUGENE: You probably shouldn't.
KENSI: Why not?
EUGENE: They, uh...shoot movies there. Stag films.
KENSI: Oh.
EUGENE: The pornos.
KENSI: No, I got it.
EUGENE: I have even seen...little people. You know, dwarves. And that can't be good.
[OPS center. Eric, Nell and Callen]
One of the victims in the Chatsworth poisoning was a retired Marine Corps general who hadn't seen action since Desert Storm in '91.
CALLEN: That's a long time to hold a grudge. Any of the others have connections to the military?
ERIC: No. It doesn't look like they were targeting military personnel.
NELL: Whoa. Text from the field. Kensi just stumbled upon an adult film shoot.
ERIC: Makes sense. Chatsworth is the epicenter of that industry.
NELL: What?
ERIC: I had to research it once for a case. It was... before you were here.
CALLEN: So we had a hit at a strip club and a porn set. Well, if the Arabic threats turn out to be a hoax, we could be dealing with homegrown terrorists.
NELL: Who don't like when people take their clothes off?
CALLEN: There are fundamentalist groups who oppose indecency. Eric, see if any of them have a history of violence.
ERIC: No problem. Oh, I just got a hit on a vacant house less than a block from the poisonings.
CALLEN: Let 'em know.
ERIC: Got it.
[Kensi checks the vacant house; she knocks at the door – and opens it with tweezers]
KENSI: Hello? Is anybody home? Is today the open house? Hello?
[All is quiet- the door closes in her back; she stops dead in the kitchen: a pump is connected to the sink]
KENSI: Deeks...get up here.
[OPS center. Callen is back]
CALLEN: What'd you find?
NELL: Possible lead on our baddies.
ERIC: There's a group called Designing a New America. D.N.A. They want the death penalty for violent felons, drug dealers and child molesters.
NELL: "In order to create an ideal society that's safe for children."
CALLEN: Wonder how they feel about strippers?
ERIC: Well, they believe that for America to be great again, we need to clean up our streets and pour lots of money into education.
CALLEN: It's a reasonable request.
NELL: Their Web site has a list of upcoming protests at Federal buildings, uh, political speeches, military funerals...
CALLEN: Why military funerals?
NELL: Because they want defense spending redirected to education.
CALLEN: Let Sam know. Have him call my cell phone.
[Vacant house]
DEEKS: Well, it's not your typical instant hot water rig.
KENSI: Looks like at least a five-gallon reservoir.
DEEKS: It's obviously some sort of industrial pump.
KENSI: Yeah, well, if the pump can generate more pressure than the outflow of the faucet...
DEEKS: Then they could pump anything they want back into the water supply.
[They test the water]
KENSI: Huh.
[Deeks sighs]
DEEKS: There's another blue light special.
KENSI: Then that's our cyanide.
[Car horns are honking: protestors chant at the cemetery and block the way; Sam in Navy uniform comes up to them]
PROTESTORS: No more war, no more war...Books, not bombs. Books, not bombs. Books, not bombs. Books, not bombs. [horns honking] No more war, no more war...
SAM: Hey.
[Chanting continues]
SAM: Knock it off. Knock it off. I said, knock it off! Show some respect for a fallen warrior.
MAN: His death was unnecessary. He is a victim of corporate profits by the military industrial complex.
SAM: Look...His parents will be driving here soon. Come on, man. Can't we have this debate another time, another place?
CALLEN: How do you justify spending $1.5 trillion on unwinnable wars, huh?
SAM: Securing America's future.
[They’re face to face, and G splutters…]
CALLEN: America's future's in the toilet. Our kids can't read and write. We rank 25th in education when we spend $700 billion a year on defense and only $19 billion on our schools.
SAM: Look, look, I'm gonna need you to leave now, okay?
CALLEN: Really? Well, you never heard of a little something called freedom of speech, huh? Didn't they teach you that there at West Point?
[G is at a few inches of Sam]
SAM: It's a Navy uniform. And get out of my face!
CALLEN: Get out of my face, pal!
SAM: Look, you don't want to do this.
CALLEN: The voice of the people will not be silenced!
SAM: But I can sure as hell shut you up.
CALLEN: Oh, yeah, why don't you try?
[He hits Sam’s chest with both hands – Sam grunts while he punches G in the face; G kneels down and … charges with anger - protestors shout, both men are grunting, fighting on the ground; a Marine grabs G, pulls him up on his feet]
SAM: Take this fool away. He provoked and attacked me.
CALLEN: He started it. I have witnesses!
SAM: Save it for the cops.
CALLEN: Yeah!
-------------------- ZAPPING -------------------
[At the cemetery; G signs a form at the back of an ambulance; the man who first spoke with Sam is waiting]
MAN: You okay?
CALLEN: Just a few scrapes.
MAN: What'd the police say?
CALLEN: What's it to you?
MAN: I was impressed by your conviction.
CALLEN: But not enough to get involved.
MAN: There are other ways to make your point.
CALLEN: It's called a hand grenade. You want to get these guys' attention, you got to give them a taste of their own medicine.
MAN: I'm Lawrence.
[A camera shutter is clicking, taking pics of the 2 men: Sam is hidden in a car a little further]
CALLEN: Gary.
SAM: It's one of the protestors, Eric. Run him through facial rec.
[OPS center.]
ERIC: As we speak.
[Cemetery]
LAWRENCE: I have a lot of friends who share your views. Want to go meet some of them?
CALLEN: What... right now?
LAWRENCE: Unless you got someplace else to be.
[OPS center.]
ERIC: Okay, the Good Samaritan is Lawrence De Vries.
NELL: Card-carrying member of D.N.A., Designing a New America.
SAM: [Over com] Looks like Callen's their first-round draft pick.
[Lawrence’s car; he gives a mask to G]
CALLEN: What the hell is this?
LAWRENCE: It's until we know you can be trusted.
CALLEN: Yeah, no, thanks, pal.
[He starts leaving the passenger seat]
LAWRENCE: So you didn't mean what you said?
[G stops and stares at him]
LAWRENCE: Talk is cheap. We're trying to make a difference, and we have the resources and conviction to do so.
[He shows the mask]
LAWRENCE: Do you?
[G takes it – they start running]
SAM: I'm gonna hang back, Eric. Keep tracking.
ERIC: [over com] Okay, we're on it.
[OPS center.]
NELL: Oh, check this out. Two days ago Kensi and Deeks' Chatsworth cyanide house had a plumber visit. Equipment went in and never came out. And the van was from a rental yard.
ERIC: All right. I'll text them the address.
[Rental yard- a boy is playing baseball – Deeks and Kensi get out of the car]
WOMAN [over P.A.]: Paul, to the front desk. Paul, to the front desk.
KENSI: How ya doing?
BOY: Uh, a little help?
[The ball is going towards them]
KENSI: Watch the car!
DEEKS: Deep ball, center field.
[He throws the ball]
DEEKS: Oh, Mays on the warning track. It's going, it's going...Ah-ha-hoo!
[The boy catches the ball]
DEEKS: Mays makes the catch, Giants win the pennant.
BOY: Who's Mays?
DEEKS: Who's Mays? Ha...Just a kid I went to middle school with.
BOY: Huh!
KENSI: All right, does your dad work here?
BOY: No, my uncle.
[Uncle appears at the door]
MAN: How ya doing?
DEEKS: Nice catch.
[He taps hand with the boy]
BOY: Thanks.
MAN: What do you folks need?
KENSI: Federal Agents. We need to check on a rental from a few days ago.
MAN: Sure.
DEEKS: This your, uh, plumber's van?
MAN: Uh, we don't rent plumber's vans.
KENSI: License plate says you do.
MAN: We have cargo vans. Must have slapped a mag sign on it.
DEEKS: You got a contract handy?
MAN: Yeah, give me a minute. Hey, you know, it, uh, might've been a Mexican guy.
[He’s back with the papers]
MAN: Yeah...here ya go.
KENSI: Got a copy of the driver's license?
MAN: Uh, second page. Zack Perez.
DEEKS: Aka Zaki Faheem, the janitor.
[The agents exchange a look]
MAN: Is he in trouble?
[Lawrence parks his car in a warehouse]
LAWRENCE: You can take off your mask.
CALLEN: This is your secret clubhouse, huh?
LAWRENCE: You know, when I was a kid we had a clubhouse in the woods. Come home from school, go out play with my friends until it was time for dinner.
CALLEN: Now everything's a supervised playdate.
LAWRENCE: Kids can't be kids. And who can blame the parents, not with all the...molesters and abductors and predators out there.
CALLEN: Mh-hmm. It's a different world.
LAWRENCE: Bad guys used to be in prisons and psychiatric hospitals. And now they're on the streets.
[An armed man opens G’s door]
LAWRENCE: Max, Gary. Gary, Max.
[Callen sighs and gets out]
CALLEN: How ya doing? Heavy fire power.
LAWRENCE: Until they decide to take away our Second Amendment rights. Make yourself at home.
[He disappears into an office – G stays with the (mute) guy]
[Kensi stops in front of a house; A dog is barking]
KENSI: I'll ring the bell, you cover the back.
DEEKS: I know that bark.
KENSI: You know, dogs can sense fear. I thought you were a dog whisperer.
DEEKS: Uh-huh, he's calm, yeah. You here that? That is a mocking bark.
KENSI: I think you're suffering from "post-dogmatic" stress.
[Kensi’s phone rings]
DEEKS: Oh, it is on. It is on!
KENSI: Hang on, hang on.
DEEKS: What? What do you got?
KENSI: Go, Nell.
[OPS center.]
NELL: You guys can get in the car and come on home.
KENSI: [Over come] Why, is Faheem is custody?
ERIC: No, he doesn't even have a real driver's license.
DEEKS: [over com] But we saw his fake one.
NELL: Yeah, we're not entirely sure he's responsible for that. We found traffic cam footage of the plumber's van in Chatsworth on the day. Sending it to you now.
[Kensi gets the photo]
KENSI: Our construction rental guy.
[OPS center.)
DEEKS: [Over come] Is now our evil construction rental guy.
KENSI: [Over come] Call Sam. We're heading back to the rental yard.
ERIC: All right, we're on it.
[Warehouse. G is helping himself with coffee –he spots someone watching him – he sits down; his guard is occupied with his phone, G looks at the paper: he finds the text crediting the first poisoning and its translation in Arabic in a dictionary; guy’s phone rings]
MAN: Yeah? Uh-huh.
[Lawrence is back with the construction rental boss- guy raises his weapon, aiming at G]
CALLEN: What's the plan?
[A third man is coming…Dominic Fryman!]
FRYMAN: Special Agent Callen. This is, uh, awkward.
[Uncle searches G]
CALLEN: This place is gonna be crawling with federal agents in a matter of minutes.
UNCLE: We'll be long gone. And so will you.
CALLEN: We know about the cyanide.
FRYMAN: And after 1:00 a.m., the whole world will know about the cyanide. And the city will be a better place for it. Because... I care about our future. I want our children to be educated. To be the best in the world. How do we keep our kids safe and secure when the streets are filled with felons, drug pushers...and sexual deviants?
CALLEN: That's your plan? Mass murder?
FRYMAN: Only because the government failed us, right? When your car's dirty, you wash it. When your pipes are clogged, you snake out the crud, and you flush away the filth. That's how we're going to make America great again.
CALLEN: Getting rid of a bunch of criminals in Downtown Los Angeles is not going to clean up all of America.
FRYMAN: It's a call to action, and many will follow.
CALLEN: It's a criminal act that's gonna get you the death penalty.
[Guy chuckles]
FRYMAN: I'm not really all that concerned about death, Agent Callen. But perhaps you should be. So, we can either, uh...shoot you...
[Fryman has cyanide is a box; he drops some into a glass- adds water, stirs…]
FRYMAN: Or…you can drink the cyanide. This is a much cleaner way to go.
CALLEN: Is this the kind of example you want to set for your son?
FRYMAN: My son knows that I'm trying to make the world a better place for him.
CALLEN: Once I drink this, you're not going to see him again. It's hard to be a good dad when you're behind bars or dead.
FRYMAN: Let's agree to disagree.
[The gun cocks- G hesitates…and drinks! Uncle grabs him and pushes him towards the office]
CALLEN: You know you're not getting away with this, Fryman.
[He’s pushed into a storeroom; Uncle locks it; G is coughing; he doesn’t see well; he coughs, deeply breathes, closes his eyes…]
-------------------- ZAPPING -------------------
[Sam in the challenger arrives at the construction rental parking lot]
ERIC: [Over com] It should be right there on your left.
[Sam turns off the engine, gets out]
SAM: I'm not seeing him. Are you sure about this, Eric?
[OPS center.]
ERIC: I'm positive. And Kensi and Deeks are on their way back to you.
[Rental- Sam looks through the window]]
SAM: Looks like it's closed.
[OPS center.]
NELL: You're within ten feet of Callen's cell.
ERIC: It hasn't moved in the last half hour.
[They watch the screen: spots Deeks/Kensi are still moving]
[♫ Rental ♫ Sam glances inside bins on his left- Kensi and Deeks get out of their car and join him]
SAM: Got his phone.
KENSI: Any sign of Callen?
SAM: They ditched his phone in the trash.
DEEKS: This place is huge.
SAM: There's no way to tell whether he's still here or they moved him somewhere else.
NELL: [Over com] Well, before the trash can his cell signal was coming from what appears to be a warehouse. Uh, 50 yards to the south.
SAM: Okay, you two clear these two buildings, I'll clear the warehouse.
[♫ Sam is in the room where Callen drank the cyanide ♫ Lawrence’s car is still here; ♫ he enters the office ♫ he hears rustling behind the locked door – he crashes it open: G is sit on the floor- alive, a syringe near him]
CALLEN: What the hell took you so long?
SAM: You used the hydroxo-C?
CALLEN: Worked like a charm.
[NCIS office. Armory; Sam, Kensi Deeks and G are loading weapons, preparing gears]
SAM: Ops is monitoring all water sensors and access points to underground utilities. And DWP is ready to cut off the water supply at a moment's notice.
DEEKS: We've got local law enforcement and Kaleidoscope looking for them. Eventually they're going to have to show themselves.
[G drops his mag –it clatters on the table, bullets rolls out; G sighs, breathes deeply]
KENSI: Callen, you sure you don't want to guide us from Ops?
CALLEN: I'm fine.
DEEKS: Yeah? 'Cause a couple hours ago, you could barely move.
CALLEN: You want to arm wrestle?
DEEKS: Fair enough.
[Nell hurries in]
NELL: Okay, so I think we've got something. I figure whatever they're going to do it's going to be big and require access to the city's water supply so I started looking into recent repair work. Yesterday, there were pothole repairs on Hill Street.
DEEKS: Your tax dollars at work.
NELL: They were working adjacent to the city's water main access point, but the city has no record of any authorized work for that area.
SAM: If they mocked up a couple of trucks, set up some barriers...
CALLEN: They could have easily snuck in the cyanide. Let's do this.
[Sam is in the street- wearing water worker uniform, near a manhole surrounded by a screen]
SAM: I'm in position. Exit is covered.
CALLEN: Copy that, Sam. We're in.
[Deeks, G, Kensi searches the place carefully, protecting each others; water is dripping; suddenly: automatic gunfire! G shoots back and kills his former guard. Lawrence has too an automatic weapon, Deeks hits him. They pursue their way, then a third hidden shooter stops them]
CALLEN: Federal agents! Drop your weapon!
FRYMAN: …Agent Callen??
CALLEN: I'm back from the dead.
FRYMAN: Yeah, not for long.
CALLEN: You're outnumbered. It's you last chance, Fryman.
[But Fryman is sick, he’s panting]
CALLEN: You give yourself up, you walk out of here alive.
FRYMAN: That's not ever, ever going to happen.
[Fryman is gasping; he groans, tries to raise his riffle but falls down, fainted]
DEEKS: He's down.
[Fryman is gasping – G kicks away his gun]
KENSI: Took his own cyanide.
DEEKS: Should we call 911?
CALLEN: Sam has the antidote-- call him.
DEEKS: It's almost 1:00.
CALLEN: We got to find that cyanide.
[Kensi calls; Deeks and G split…]
CALLEN: Got something!
ALEX: Don't come any closer.
[He’s sit near a pump, ready to open it…]
CALLEN: Alex...do you have a gun?
ALEX: Did you kill my dad?
[Callen speaks gently, quietly)
CALLEN: No...he's on his way to the E.R., then he's going to jail. It's over, Alex.
ALEX: At 1:00 a.m., I'm pulling the valve. I promised to do it right.
CALLEN: You'll hurt a lot of innocent people, Alex. You don't want to do that, do you? Alex?
ALEX: Kids can't walk to school alone. And when they get there, they're not even safe in the classroom. We need to fix America.
CALLEN: Not like this.
ALEX: Drastic problems require drastic solutions.
CALLEN: So you're going to poison the whole city?
ALEX: Just the bad people. The good ones are home asleep.
[He has tears in the eyes]
CALLEN: You know who's awake right now, Alex? Cops and fireman. And doctors and nurses. And people that work at office buildings sweeping and taking out the trash. You remember when your dad was away at sea?
ALEX: He was fighting an unjust war.
CALLEN: You pull that lever, tomorrow morning hundreds of kids are going to wake up and they're going to have moms and dads that are never coming back. Is that what you want? …You're smart...you're a good guy. And you're going to make this world a better place, but not like this. Do the right thing, Alex.
[The boy’s hand is still on the valve…He hesitates- he lets it go; he’s crying ♫]
ALEX: What's going to happen to me?
CALLEN: We're going to work it out. Come on.
[♫]
[NCIS office. Deeks is rummaging…Kensi’s desk!]
KENSI: Uh, excuse me.
DEEKS: I'm sorry. I just could not stand it anymore.
KENSI: So you invade my personal space?
DEEKS: No, I didn't invade your personal space. I was just cleaning and organizing. And you'll be happy to know that I found your W-2.
KENSI: Oh, my God. Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.
[She gives him a huge hug- Sam is just coming in, Kensi laughs, watching her form]
SAM: Have you seen G?
DEEKS: Uh, he had to get a blood test.
[A man in suit stops in front of him]
MAN: Martin A. Deeks?
DEEKS: Yeah, Marty Deeks. Who are you?
MAN: You've been served.
[He hands him an envelope]
DEEKS: What?
SAM: What the hell? How'd you even get in here?
MAN: I'm a federal employee with a high level security clearance.
KENSI: You work for Granger?
MAN: No. The IRS. Mr. Deeks, federal law allows us to examine the past seven years of your tax returns. Your illegal deductions, with interest and penalties, could cost you over a hundred thousand dollars.
DEEKS: A h-hundred thousand dollars?
MAN: I suggest you bring your accountant to your formal audit hearing which is scheduled for April 21.
DEEKS: No, no. No, no. See, you, uh, you actually screwed up the date on-on this form, which means it's probably totally invalid. See, if you look right there, 'cause this says April 1 on it, not April 21. So this is...
SAM: Oh, no, that's right. It's April Fool's.
[They all start laughing]
KENSI: Look at his face.
DEEKS: You rat bastards.
SAM: Don't look at us, it wasn't our idea.
[The man is laughing too]
DEEKS: Hetty’s?
[He stares at her, she waves from her office, smiling]
MAN: Oh, man.
KENSI: She even pulled Morgan out of retirement.
[Morgan laughs]
MORGAN: Sorry.
DEEKS: Morgan.
[They shake hands – Sam and Kensi are still laughing heartily]
DEEKS: That was a great party, man. I loved your cake.
MORGAN: Thanks.
[Alex is on a swing in a garden, looking gloomy. A woman accompanies G out of the house, and leaves them. Both have a baseball glove]
CALLEN: Morning, Alex.
ALEX: Didn't think you'd come.
CALLEN: I said I would. Got a ball?
[He takes it]
CALLEN: Let's toss it. What did you have for breakfast?
ALEX: Pancakes.
CALLEN: Lucky. Pancakes?! Sheesh.
[They exchange balls]
CALLEN: How'd you sleep last night?
ALEX: Okay, I guess.
CALLEN: If you sleep well the first night, it means you're in a good place.
ALEX: How do you know?
[Callen half-smiles, half-sighs]
CALLEN: I just do.
[♫ They keep playing…♫]
-------------- THE END ------------------