JAG (1995–2005): Season 3, Episode 15 - Yesterday's Heroes - full transcript

During a joint drug-interdiction operation with the Coast Guard, a Navy frigate fires two warning shots across the bow of a suspect yacht, which has failed and refused to stop when ordered; the second round appears to hit the boat, and it sinks. A high-level South American official owns the yacht, and his son was aboard it. Harm, Mac, and Bud go to Miami and investigate; Harriet, as planned, goes to Naples, Florida, to visit her parents. The three musketeers meet three enthusiastic and enterprising elderly veterans with strong feelings; Bud meets Harriet's parents. The threesome figure out what happened, and the bad boy from South America goes back home.

Sigue adelante.

No pare... no trate de parar.

Dame todo, dame todo.

MAN: USS Bancroft,
this is Coast Guard

626. Over.

MAN 2: This is the
skipper of the USS Bancroft.

Go ahead, Coast Guard.

The Tropical Pleasure
is not answering our hail

and is refusing to stop. Over.

Copy that.

She wouldn't be running



if she didn't have
a good reason.

Well, I'm afraid she's going
to outrun us, Commander.

This ship isn't built
for high-speed pursuits.

Well, Commander, this is
the Coast Guard's operation.

You're gonna have
to make the call.

This is a Coast Guard
law enforcement officer

aboard the Navy
frigate Bancroft.

Requesting approval
to use non-deadly force

to stop the suspect vessel.

Roger. Out.

You have permission to
fire a warning shot, Skipper.

Let's show these jokers
we're finished playing games.

(echoing over PA):
This is the skipper.

Fire one shot across
the target's bow



from the forward gun.

Damn it!

Bancroft, this is
Coast Guard 626.

Suspect is not slowing.

Now, that's just plain rude.

Gunner, this is Skipper.

Fire another warning shot,

but put this one close
enough to get them wet.

Bancroft, this is 626.

Vessel has been hit.

I say again, the
yacht has been hit.

Following in his
father's footsteps

as a naval aviator,

Lieutenant Commander
Harmon Rabb, Jr.,

suffered a crash while
landing his Tomcat

on a storm-tossed
carrier at sea.

Diagnosed with night blindness,

Harm transferred to the Navy's
Judge Advocate General Corps

which investigates, defends
and prosecutes the law of the sea.

There, with fellow JAG
lawyer, Major Sarah MacKenzie,

he now fights in and
out of the courtroom

with the same
daring and tenacity

that made him a
top gun in the air.

REPORTER: New
allegations have surfaced

in yesterday's sinking
of a luxury yacht

off the Florida Coast.

Witnesses aboard the
yacht say the USS Bancroft,

a navy frigate taking part

in a joint drug interdiction
operation with the Coast Guard

reportedly opened fire on
them without provocation.

Branco Mendoza
was on that yacht.

His father, Enrique
Mendoza, is minister

of the South American
agricultural alliance.

He is more than just a diplomat.

He is a very important liaison

with several key political
players in South America.

Does he know his
son's a drug dealer?

Now, see, th-this is
what I'm talking about.

Commander Rabb's attitude

is entirely inappropriate
for this sort of incident.

Why? Because it's the truth?

(sighs) Whether or not

Branco Mendoza was
smuggling drugs is irrelevant

at this juncture.

The Navy blew his father's yacht

out of the water!

Warning shots were authorized

because the yacht
refused to stop.

That was one hell of a warning.

The skipper doesn't
think his warning shot

hit the Tropical Pleasure.

Well, what did happen, Rabb?
Spontaneous combustion?

Well, we're not going
to know that, Webb,

until the yacht has
been salvaged, are we?

Well, one thing we do know:

Mendoza has asked the
Secretary of Defense...

His former college roommate...

For a full investigation

and guess what?
He's going to get it...

in spades.

There are many reasons that
boat could have blown up, Webb.

Then I suggest he finds the one

that exonerates the
Navy and satisfies

Minister Mendoza.

Good day, gentlemen.

(door closes)

What happens if we
did sink that ship, sir?

Well, Commander, your
job is to find the truth...

Good, bad or ugly.

(knock at door)

Enter.

Just got off the phone

with the C.O. of
the Bancroft, sir.

They found the wreckage
of the Tropical Pleasure.

(thunder rumbling)

Sir, Major MacKenzie just told
me about the Miami assignment

and I was wondering
if it would be possible...

No.

You don't know what
I'm going to ask, sir.

Yes, I do.

The answer is no.

There will be no time to
visit Disney World, Bud.

No, sir, that's not what
I was going to ask you.

I know.

I was wondering if you'd be able

to find somebody else
to go on this assignment.

It's Harriet.

I was supposed to go
away with her this weekend.

Bud, duty calls.

I mean, I wanted to
go skiing this weekend

with Annie and Josh
out at Wintergreen,

but... Harriet will understand.

She knows the drill.

(sighs)

(giggling): Bud, I got them.

You want a window
seat or an aisle seat?

I can't go.

What do you mean?

I have to be on the next plane

with Commander Rabb and
Major MacKenzie. Excuse me?

Bud, this is the third
time you've weaseled

out of meeting my parents.

I'm not weaseling.

I'm looking forward to
meeting your parents, really.

I just went in there and
asked the Commander

if I could get out of this.

If you don't believe
me, ask him.

These are non-refundable.

I'll pay for them...
It's the least I can do.

Don't worry about it.

I'm sorry, Harriet.

I got to go make
the arrangements.

We'll talk before I leave?

Whatever.

(sighs)

Oh, I'm sorry. Excuse me, Major.

That's all right, Ensign.

Harriet, are you okay?

Yeah.

No.

I don't know.

Come on in.

Spit it out.

It's Bud, as always.

(thunder rumbling)

He was supposed to
come with me this weekend

to meet my parents,

and now he says he
has to go out of town

with you and Commander Rabb.

I'm afraid that's true.

I'm sure, but he's managed

to avoid meeting
them, like, three times.

I'm starting to think
he's doing it on purpose.

Well, sometimes meeting the
parents can be a bit unnerving.

Have a seat.

Yeah, but you know what?

My parents are great,

and I've been looking
forward to this for weeks.

I haven't been home
to Naples in two years.

Your parents live in Italy?

No, ma'am. Naples, Florida.

It's on the Gulf side,

south of Fort Myers.

Well, how far is
that from Miami?

A couple of hours.

So why don't you
bring them to meet Bud?

What are you talking about?

Bud's going to Miami with us.

What?

Yeah, I'm surprised
he didn't tell you.

Not as surprised as I am.

(sighs)

I don't care what you heard.

I'm fine.

I'm back in business!

Branco.

I'll call you back.

Hey, Pops.

Mil gracias.

So...

How are you feeling?

A little waterlogged,
but I'm okay, Pops.

Good.

¿No te da verguenza, hijo?

Not only do you
embarrass me back home,

but you have to bring

your nasty business
here, too, eh?

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

It's days like this

that I'm glad your mother
is not alive to see you.

Oh, by the way

you owe me a yacht.

Vamonos.

I want to know who's
responsible for this.

The captain of the
ship who fired on us.

No. Those warning shots missed.

Somebody blew us up,
and you're going to find them.

RABB: Lieutenant Commander
Rabb, Major MacKenzie,

Lieutenant, J.G., Roberts,
reporting as ordered, sir.

You're just in time

to see what sunk
the Tropical Pleasure.

What are we looking at, Chief?

WOMAN: I'm moving along
the starboard hull toward the bow.

The hull appears intact.

I'm going to head inside.

Well, here's what
sunk her, Skipper.

A good-sized puncture

definitely caused
by an explosion.

Internal explosion?

Negative, sir. The edges
of the hole burn inward.

From a round we fired?

I don't think so,
sir, but it could be.

The hole's just
below the water level.

The radial scorch marks
around it are much more typical

of a mine than a naval shell.

Any sign of a
narcotics shipment?

Afraid not, sir.

What'd you find, Harm?

It's a piece of a magnet

stuck to the depth
sounder transweep.

Probably the only metal
on a fiberglass-hulled ship.

It'd be the perfect
place to put a mine.

Chief, where did you find this?

Several feet from the
wreck, Commander.

What is that, sir?

Looks like part
of a timer pencil.

You mean like a fuse?

A very old-fashioned one.

Yeah, you'd pull
off the safety strip,

crush a copper tube and
break a glass vial of acid...

And the acid would corrode
the wire, releasing the striker.

The striker would
detonate the percussion cap

and ka-boom.

RABB: The
concussion from a shell

exploding nearby could have
set a mine off prematurely.

That would look like
she was hit by the shell.

This thing is so old, though.

I mean, they haven't used
anything like this in 50 years.

See that yellow band?

They would color code
them to indicate duration.

How long was yellow?

I don't know.

Chief,

could...

say, a limpet mine
with a vintage fuse

have caused the
hole in this ship?

I guess so, sir, but
it's pretty outdated.

If someone wanted to blow
up the Tropical Pleasure,

why would they go
through the trouble

of using such outdated
devices, Commander?

Could be to cover their tracks.

It'd be next to impossible

to trace the origins of a
50-year-old pencil fuse.

Where was the Tropical
Pleasure docked?

(overlapping chatter)

MAN: Uh-oh.

We got company, and
they don't look like tourists.

What is it?

Trouble?

Trouble?

Yeah, they're checking
out Mendoza's slip.

Let's get out of here.

Come on.

Yeah.

MAN: Branco Mendoza
is a Princeton graduate

with a degree in
chemical engineering.

He brings the raw
materials in from Columbia

and spends his days

trying to create
new designer drugs.

Any ideas as to who
might have wanted

to put him out of business?

You mean besides me?

The DEA, Customs and every other

law enforcement
agency in the state.

We're here, Major.

It could have been any number
of rivals within the drug trade.

Then again, it may not have been

drug-related at all.

Want to have a seat?

(indistinct radio communication)

A guy like Branco
Mendoza's got lots of enemies.

Hmm. How many is a lot?

(sighs)

RABB: You ever see
anything like this before?

Yeah, it's a... a pencil fuse.

They used them in WW II.

You ever sold any of them?

Oh, yeah.

You sell explosive devices?

No. I sell military memorabilia.

I'm required by law to
take the detonation caps

out of every one of them babies.

So if somebody
were to reinsert them

they'd have themselves

a fully-functioning pencil fuse.

If the acid was still
good inside, yeah, man.

You sold any of these lately?

Oh, no. They're,
uh, they're antique.

You hardly ever
see them anymore.

I had some about a year
ago, but I sold them all.

Do you have records

about who you sold them to?

(chuckling): Oh, man.

I abhor paperwork.

You know, save the
trees, all that stuff.

All the files I need...

(clicks tongue) right here.

Right.

You know, I do remember

he was... he was an old guy,

and he bought the whole box,

and there was about
20 of them in there.

Somebody bought a box of these?

You didn't find that alarming?

Some people collect
lawn ornaments.

Larry, do you remember
what this guy looked like?

You know, he was
your typical old guy.

He was wearing the uniform.

What uniform?

You know, the Bermuda shorts,

the sandals with
the dark socks...

Same uniform every retired
geezer in Florida wears.

So you figure
this guy was local.

Well, he comes in
here a couple times.

Yeah, I think he could be.

Hey...

what's this all about?

Did this guy blow
somebody up, or what?

(chuckles)

Larry, if you see
this guy again,

give us a call, would you?

All righty.

You get the idea that
Jungle Larry spent

a little bit too much
time in the jungle?

(chuckles) Yeah.

So what are we looking at, Bud?

An old guy buying pencil fuses.

And what does that tell you?

Don't know if it tells
us much of anything, sir.

Well, if you're looking for
an old-fashioned limpet mine

find yourself an
old-fashioned sailor.

We'd better check with the
Veterans Administration...

See what former naval personnel
we have living in the area,

especially those with
explosives expertise.

Harriet?

Commander, hi.

Harriet?

Hello!

I'm Harriet's mother, Lydia,

and you must be Bud.

Uh, no. Mother, this is...

LYDIA: Our Harriet
has told us both

all about you.

No, mother. This is
Commander Rabb.

And this is Bud.

Hello, ma'am.

Oh... well, hello!

Commander, this
is my father, Roland.

How do you do? Sir.

And, Bud, this is Roland. Sir.

Could I talk to
you for a second?

Harriet, what are
you doing here?

This is the weekend
that you were supposed

to meet my parents, remember?

Yeah, I know, but I didn't...

Well, you didn't tell me
you were coming to Florida.

I didn't think that your
parents... What you didn't think

is you didn't
think I'd find out.

Well...

important for you
to meet my parents.

I just hope he knows what
the hell he's getting himself into.

(groans)

Hey.

Got anything?

Branco Mendoza's been a bad boy.

Everything from parking tickets

to aggravated assault.

He's very smart and he's managed

to stay one step
ahead of the law.

Every time the
authorities get close,

Daddy comes to his rescue.

Oh, yeah?

Well, maybe we
should give Webb a call.

See if we can pull
some strings at State...

Get his diplomatic
immunity revoked.

It's worth a try.

What is all this?

I'm trying to find somebody
who had a motive.

All of these clippings
are potential suspects?

Popular guy.

What's the story here?

Well, last year, Branco
Mendoza hit and killed

a teenage windsurfer
with his speedboat

during a suspected drug run.

All the charges were dropped,
though, when witnesses

mysteriously disappeared
when it went to court.

(sighing)

Are you all right,
Bud? Bud just met

his potential in-laws.

How'd it go?

I'd rather not talk
about that now, Major.

Good call, sir.

What's this?

Washington confirmed
your suspicions

about the pencil fuse.

According to forensics,

the specific device used

had a six-and-a-half-hour fuse.

What am I looking at, sir?

The grandfather,
Artemus Sullivan.

Jungle Larry

told us the guy who
bought the pencil fuses

a year ago was an old guy.

See if you can get an
address on this guy, Bud.

Find out if he has a
military background.

Aye, sir.

Excuse me, we're looking
for Artemis Sullivan.

He's inside.

Room 106. Thank you.

Oh, my goodness.

There.

Thank you. Mm-hmm.

Mr. Sullivan?

RABB: Mr. Sullivan?

Sir?

Harm, I can't find a pulse.

Keep your cat
off... off my lawn.

Mr. Sullivan. Hi.

I'm Major MacKenzie.

This is Commander
Rabb, JAG Corps.

Huh? We'd like to ask
you a few questions.

Uh... you...

want a gumdrop?

MACKENZIE: No. No, thank you.

SULLIVAN: Where's my Jell-O?

I always get green
Jell-O on Sunday.

It's Thursday, Mr. Sullivan.

Huh?

Uh, we're... we're sorry

to have bothered you, sir.

Have a nice day, Mr. Sullivan.

Yeah.

And keep your cat
off... off my lawn.

Yeah.

Yeah.

You think they bought it?

Hook, line and sinker.

Did you talk to Mr. Sullivan?

Yep.

Did he have an alibi?

Don't think he needs one, Bud.

ROBERTS: Why's that?

Art Sullivan is an elderly man

who couldn't get out of
the bathtub by himself.

Are we talking about the
same Artemus Sullivan?

'Cause I did a check
on an Art Sullivan

to see if he had
a military record,

and it came back that
he was a chief in UDT.

Underwater demolitions team?

It certainly fits the bill.

Well, he's in a wheelchair now,

crippled with arthritis.

It doesn't seem to be
slowing him down much.

According to this
article in the Navy Times,

he and his buddies

just did a ten-mile relay swim

for an anti-drug charity
just a few months ago.

I think we've been had.

MAN (over radio): This is
the Manitou requesting backup.

We are in pursuit of a
suspected drug shipment

aboard a speedboat.

We're 16 miles due east
of Carver Channel. Over.

Boys, we got to get a boat.

Well, maybe Jungle
Larry can get us a deal

on a patrol boat, huh?

And what are we
going to buy it with?

Drug money.

(knocking)

Hello.

Mr. Sullivan?

Chief, are you home?

Nope.

Let's look around.

WOMAN (in distance): Here comes
the next one... everybody ready?

B... B-6.

(bingo calls
continue indistinctly)

Hey, Harm, I think
I found something.

Oh, yeah?

It's a chart.

Looks like he's been
recording the movements

of a number of yachts,
including Mendoza's.

Well, that's not all
he's been doing.

Is that what I think it is?

It looks like a homemade
limpet mine to me.

And he seemed like
such a nice old man.

(sighs)

Hey, you want to go eat?

Yeah, it sounds all
right with me. All right.

Ah. What's this?

Hey! Hey!

Hey! Hey!

You punks!

I got it! I got it!

MENDOZA: Hey, get them!

Hey! Hey!

(laughing)

Yeah, baby!

You got it?

Oh, have we got it.

We got it!

Yeah!

Those punks never
knew what hit them!

(laughing and cheering)

(indistinct chatter outside)

Business meeting?

Who the hell are you people?

We were here earlier
today, remember?

What do you want?

Branco Mendoza was on a yacht

four days ago that blew up.

Looked like it might
have been the work

of a limpet mine.

Limpet?

(chuckles) What's that?

You make this?

I don't know
what the hell it is.

Really?

Well, then I guess
you won't mind

if I do this, huh?

All right, smart-ass.

Knock it off before
you break something.

What's in the briefcase, Chief?

My lunch, a newspaper

and a quarter of a million
dollars in unmarked bills.

(chuckles) No, really.

Well, then I guess you
won't mind if we open it

and help you
count it, huh, Chief?

Uh... listen, I've got a little

bladder control problem,

and this is a little more
discreet than carrying

a bag full of diapers,
you know what I mean?

Look, Chief, in two minutes

I am calling the police

and I'm going to
hand you over to them.

Now, I'm trying to
give you a break here...

One sailor to another.

We know Branco Mendoza

was responsible for
your grandson's death.

Then you know that
Mendoza's also a drug dealer.

Which gives you a reason
to blow up his father's yacht.

Where the hell have
you people been?!

The president
declared war on drugs.

We're just trying to help him.

"We're"?

You're not working
alone, Mr. Sullivan?

I'm not answering
any more questions.

And don't bother
threatening me with the police.

You entered without

a warrant, which makes
this an illegal search.

I don't think you
realize the seriousness

of the situation you've created

for yourself, Mr. Sullivan.

Branco Mendoza
is a dangerous man.

So am I, sister.

Now beat it.

I've got a diaper to change.

MENDOZA: I'm telling you,

these guys were professionals.

They ripped me off for, like,
a quarter of a million dollars.

I don't care how you do it.

You find them. Today.

What the hell are you doing?

Making a protein shake.

You want one?

You know, I got
people ripping me off...

People trying to blow me up,
and you're making a milkshake?

There's no milk; it's non-dairy.

If you don't find my money,

you're going to be on an
all-liquid diet permanently.

(whirring)

Look what our boys left behind.

Look at this.

Artie, are you all right?

Shh. Shh.

Don't even talk to me.

What?

Don't even look at me.

We're being watched.

Oh, shoot. That ain't
nobody but Beemer.

Yeah, relax, Art.

You're imagining things.

Yeah? You think I
imagined two JAG officers

waiting for me at my place?

And they also found one
of the limpets we built.

Uh-oh. Now, that's not good.

Well, don't worry.

I got rid of everything
after they left.

But, boys, we are
going to be watched.

What about the money?

It's safe...

for the time being.

Hey, why don't we
fake our own deaths

and disappear to the
Cayman Islands, huh?

Hey, just thinking out loud.

BOTH: Well, don't.

Look, if we're going to do
anything with that money,

we need to buy Beemer,
there, a motorized wheelchair

so he don't have
to stare at us all day

like some
pet-store-window monkey.

You know, that's
not such a bad idea.

A lot of people around
here need fixing up.

Jerry Sprackman
needs a new pacemaker,

and Izzy Morgan
needs his hip replaced.

Hey, but...

And I bet Esther
Winterstein here

would look pretty
good with a butt tuck.

(laughter)

But what about the boat we
want to buy and our mission?

You think that sinking one yacht

and snatching that money's
going to stop Mendoza?

It won't even slow
him down at all.

Doggone it, I gave an oath
to defend this country, and...

Here we go, Admiral Nimitz.

Get off your ammo box.

You know, you're
preaching to the choir, here.

ART: Aw, look,

if we use this money
for anything, it should be

to put Mendoza out of
business once and for all.

Yeah.

Ooh!

ROBERTS: I ran a
background check

on everybody at
the nursing home.

Six males and two females
came up with military records.

Now, these two, Harold Green

and Wendell Freeman III...

These were the two
guys that were swimming

in that charity event
with Mr. Sullivan.

Green was explosive
ordinance disposal

and Freeman was a SEAL.

Three frogmen.

Who the hell are these guys?

(phone rings)

This is Major MacKenzie.

Oh, hi, Harriet.

Yeah, Bud's right here.

Harriet?

With your parents?

No, no, no. I-I'm working here

with Commander Rabb
and Major MacKenzie.

They need me.

Yes, it's true.

No, I'm not.

Excuse me, Major,

but Harriet would
like to speak with you.

Harriet.

We are in the middle
of an investigation...

but I'm sure we could spare Bud

for half a day.

You're welcome, Harriet.

Bye.

Major, did you just sell me out?

I'm giving you the day off, Bud.

But I-I don't want the day off.

I want to stay here
and work with you guys.

Harriet and her parents
drove all this way

just to see you.

Commander?

ROLAND: So, you
play golf, Lieutenant?

ROBERTS: No, sir.

Bud was on the ROTC judo team.

Really?

So you're going to be
a lawyer, Lieutenant?

Yes, ma'am.

And you can call me Bud, ma'am.

Bud. And that would
be short for what?

Nothing. It's ju-just Bud.

Bud. Bud.

Well, that's just like
the president's dog.

(both laughing)

Actually... actually, his
name is Buddy, ma'am.

Oh.

Wendell Freeman III.

And you are?

I'm Lieutenant Commander Rabb.

This is Major MacKenzie.
We're with the JAG Corps.

Are you a friend of
Artemus Sullivan's?

Well, I know him.

You know what he's been
doing with his spare time?

I said I know him.

I'm not his mother.

What happened to his
grandson was a tragedy

but it doesn't
justify taking the law

into his own hands.

Is this how a SEAL spends
his retirement, Master Chief?

Blowing up yachts?

Next time, he could get hurt

or hurt someone else

like you or an
innocent bystander.

If you don't help us stop him,

you'll be just as
responsible as he is.

Guys like Artemus and me...

We've been through
some serious business.

And we still here,

because we don't
back down from a fight,

and we damn sure
don't sell each other out.

Excuse me.

RABB: We have a
couple of suspects.

Two of them are frogmen
and one of them's a SEAL.

Oh, of course. The
suspects are from the Navy.

I bet you haven't even
called the police yet.

I didn't feel it was
prudent at this point in time.

This SEAL got a name?

Wendell Freeman III.

Wendell Freeman?

That's impossible.

Wendell Freeman
was one of the first

African-American SEALs.

Hell, he's got to
be 60 years old.

63 to be exact.

WEBB: One of these
suspects is a senior citizen?

They all are.

Branco Mendoza killed
Artemus Sullivan's grandson,

so Sullivan and his friends
have taken it upon themselves

to bring Mendoza down.

All right, have the
golden boys apprehended

before you're charged
with withholding evidence.

Artemus Sullivan wouldn't
have been pushed to this extreme

if Washington would
send Branco Mendoza

back home where he belongs.

Are you hearing this?

These are your people, Admiral.

What's your plan, Commander?

Sir, I might be able to convince
Art Sullivan to turn himself in

if Webb can convince State

to revoke Mendoza's
diplomatic immunity.

Give your head a shake, Rabb.

CHEGWIDDEN: Commander,
I want this matter wrapped up.

Notify the local authorities
and get them involved

as soon as possible.

Mr. Webb, if I were you, I would
take the Commander's advice.

Get Branco Mendoza
out of this country ASAP,

before he blows up in your face.

FREEMAN: Hey, Harold
bring that cart over here.

What about these?

Beautiful. We need those.

Could I speak

to Lieutenant Commander
Harmon Rabb Jr., please?

Welcome to our home, Bud.

I'll have Cora make
us some sandwiches,

and we'll have
lunch in the garden.

Sound good?

That would be great, Mom.

(chuckles)

Why didn't you tell me?

Tell you what?

That my parents are filthy rich

and I'm some spoiled
little debutante?

You were a debutante?

No!

I was a tomboy.

That's why I joined the Navy.

My mom cried for six weeks.

This is my parent's
lifestyle, Bud.

It's not mine.

And some people
have a hard time dealing

with this part.

Look, Harriet, I fell in
love with a cute ensign

that made me feel
like I could do anything.

Wherever your parents live,

whether it's a mansion
or a trailer park,

really doesn't matter to me.

I was hoping you'd say that.

ROLAND: Lieutenant.

Harriet, why don't you
give your mother a hand

in the house, hmm?

I can help, too...

Son...

I think we should talk.

Right this way, Bud.

So is that about all y'all need?

Yeah, now that you mention it

could you, by any chance,

put your hands on a boat?

A boat? What kind of boat?

HAROLD: 50-footer.

And a fast one.

One that could be fitted

with a working .50
Cal and a "Y" gun.

That's some serious
hardware, boys.

Can you do it or not?

If y'all got the cash

Jungle Larry's got the goods.

(laughter)

Fellas, I really don't
think this is a good idea.

What were you gentlemen
planning on doing with this stuff?

Why, we're going camping, ma'am.

Artemus, guys...

can we have a word
with you out front?

Come on, boys.

Go around the back.

Uh, change of plans.

Out back.

Out back, come on, let's go.

Hey!

What are you doing?

They was trying to get away.

All right, put
everybody in the car.

Diplomatic immunity's
not going to let you

get away with this one, Mendoza.

These men stole
something from me.

That was drug money.

Yeah, well,

it was my drug money.

You people are trespassing.

MENDOZA: Come on, let's go.

Get down!

Holy moly!

Let's go. Lock the gate.

I got it, I got the gate.

RABB: You guys have been
watching Branco Mendoza.

Where would he
have taken Artemus?

Come on, guys,
I'm trying to help.

Can we go now?

Why? You in a hurry
to go someplace?

No. But I got this
sciatica, you know?

And if sit too
long in one place,

my legs start to go to sleep.

Me, too.

RABB: You know, fellows,

your friend has been kidnapped
by a dangerous drug dealer.

I would think you would
be eager to cooperate.

Art can take care of himself.

Yeah.

You don't know Branco Mendoza.

He's very dangerous
and he will kill Artemus.

No, he won't.

Not if he wants to
see his money again.

What is this money

we're talking about, here?

RABB: Hey!

Art's life is riding on this.

We confiscated the proceeds

from one of their
narcotic negotiations.

You ripped off a drug deal?

In a manner of speaking, yeah.

How much?

A quarter of a million.

What the hell were
you guys thinking?

Where is this money now?

So, is Commander Rabb married?

No.

Well, is he involved
with anyone?

Mother,

I am not interested
in Commander Rabb.

Yes, he is handsome,

and he is smart,
and he is successful,

and so is Bud.

Darling, I just want
what is best for you.

Well, Bud is what
is best for me.

And I love him.

Well.

(gunshot)

(gasps)

And then she says to me

"I'm sure that wasn't

in my job description, sir."

Pull!

Excuse us.

What?

Lunch is ready.

Oh. (phone rings)

LYDIA: Darling, we've got
your favorite sardine sandwiches.

Lieutenant Roberts.

Commander...

I'm in Naples

with Ensign Sims' family.

Very well, sir.

Now?

It'll take me about
three hours to get there.

Yes, sir, I'm sorry.

I'll get there as fast
as I can, Commander.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to
take a rain check on lunch today.

Commander needs
me back in Miami.

That's all right, Bud.

We understand. Duty calls.

Do you know of a place I
could rent a car around here?

Take one of mine.

Well, no, I
couldn't do that, sir.

I insist... we can pick it
up with Harriet tomorrow.

Maybe the four of us
could have lunch then.

Oh, yeah. But...

No "buts" about
it... Take the Jag.

Be in Miami in an hour.

Jag?

Where is it?

I couldn't find it.

I told you.

Hey!

You're gonna
have to pay for that!

Who do you think
you are, Gramps?!

Don't call me "Gramps."

You think you can

come in here and rip me off

like I'm some two-bit punk?

You are a two-bit punk.

You killed my grandson!

Grandson?

I don't even know your grandson.

Oh!

Looks like somebody
got here before us.

Yeah, but I think
we're all right.

Yeah.

(chuckles)

Where the hell's
my money, Gramps?

You call me "Gramps"
one more time,

and I'll break your nose.

Can you believe
this crazy old man?

Huh?

You got two seconds
to spill your guts

or I'm going to spill
them for real, Gramps!

(both yelling)

I warned you!

(all screaming)

Hold him down!

I'll kill him dead!

You hold him down!

Hold him down!

(yells)

I want to know!

(phone rings)

Yeah?

Hang on.

Branco, it's for you.

They said they got your money.

They said they'd
trade it for the old man.

You ain't worth it.

The marina, 15 minutes.

I see anybody who even
knows a cop, I'm going to pull

a Dr. Kevorkian on Gramps here!

MENDOZA: Where are they?

Hey, there they are.

We got a guy working on a boat.

A couple of tourists.

Otherwise, the coast is clear.

Yeah, I think they're alone.

If they're not,

they're both dead
and so are you.

Go get it.

(yelling)

Stop the boat!

You got no authority
to arrest me!

I'm not going to arrest
you; I'm going to shoot you.

(grunting)

(grunts)

Don't move.

Hey, Art!

Hey! What took you so long?

Hey, what do you expect?

They're only kids.

(both laugh)

(chuckles)

BRANCO: He blew up my yacht.

Arrest them!

I got diplomatic immunity.

Not anymore, you don't.

You've been a bad boy
one too many times, Branco.

Daddy's sending you home.

Harm.

Permission

to speak freely, ma'am?

Of course, Bud.

(chuckles): Wow.

Sir, I'm sorry I
got here so late,

but I came as fast as I could.

Did I miss anything?

Oh, no, Bud. Right on time.

Where did you get this car, Bud?

It's Harriet's father's.

Can you believe it?
He's got a bunch of them.

Hey, would you like to ride
in a Jag with a JAG, ma'am?

Go.

I take it you and
Harriet's parents

are getting along?

Oh, yeah.

ARTEMUS: I suppose

you think this makes you a hero?

Not really.

And he still gets away with
murdering my grandson.

Well, he won't hurt anyone
else in this country, Artemus.

You have some good friends.

If you want to take
a piece of advice,

I'd stop doing things
that might get them killed.

I mean, you guys are
getting a little too old for this,

don't you think?

Uh...

Uh, Commander?

Do you know what
it's like to be 72?

No, I don't. Yes, you do,

'cause it doesn't
feel any different

than being 50 or 30 or 20.

Oh, some things don't go as fast

or as strong,

but, uh, up here where it counts

you still feel like that

same active young
man you were at 18.

(chuckles)

Is this your way of telling me

you're still going to get
yourself into trouble?

(laughing)

(laughing)

Old heroes never die, Commander.

They just become
the stuff of legends.

See you around, sir.

Well, let's hope not.

(chuckles)

(Artemus groans)

CHEGWIDDEN: In
an effort to downplay

his son's involvement
with illicit drugs

Enrique Mendoza has
asked the State Department

to keep this as
quiet as possible

which means the chances
of charges being filed

against Chief Sullivan

and the others
is highly unlikely.

Admiral, if charges
are filed, sir,

I would like the opportunity

to represent them
in civilian court.

Well, hopefully, that won't
be necessary, Commander,

provided those boys
will stay out of trouble.

I think they'll behave,
themselves, Admiral.

There she is, boys.

She ain't the fastest
boat in the world

and she's a little rusty,
but she'll get the job done.

Yeah, kind of like us.

(all laughing)

You know, I heard you
could pick up a MiG jet fighter

from the Russkies
pretty cheap these days.

Shut up!

Hey, just thinking out loud.

BOTH: Well, don't!

Now, this is what I
was thinking, fellas.

Now look at this.

We'll take the boat 30 miles...