NCIS: Los Angeles (2009–…): Season 2, Episode 17 - Personal - full transcript

While Deeks follows his morning routine, during what appears to be a holdup of a convenience store, a gunman shoots him twice in the chest with a pistol; Deeks goes into surgery; G and Sam investigate at the scene; Kensi waits at the hospital; Eric and Nell prompt their computer. The team realize that two bad guys had staged the supposed robbery as a deliberate ambush; Eric traces the suspects' car to the hospital, where G and Sam see it and engage them; the driver dies, and the other man escapes but winds up at the boat shed. The team set up G for an undercover meet; while talking with Kensi, Deeks suggests a dangerous idea; Kensi tells Eric that G's walking into a trap; Kensi dashes off to the trap, and Deeks suddenly figures out who's the real target; G and Sam tear back to the hospital, but they arrive late, for the party has already ended. The team put all the pieces together. Hetty brings Deeks up to date on his next of kin.

(beeping)

- Morning, ladies.
- Hey.

Look back?

DEEKS:
Ah-ho!

There it is.
God, I love L.A.!

Ooh!

Morning.
Hey.

Oh. Frank.
Five miles today, buddy.

That's a lie,
I did three.

But I could've done five.

This coffee just like I like it?



Cold and stale?

Got a question for you, Frank.

What's the deal
with these Funyuns?

Why are they more expensive
than Cheetos?

They putting, uh,
real fun in there?

Turn over!

Stay down!

Behind you!

(groans)

♪ NCIS: LA 2x17 ♪
Personal
Original Air Date on February 22, 2011>

Boom! Iceland, here I come.

Why on earth would you
want to go to Iceland?

Because I'll have worked

everywhere there's been
a James Bond film.



You'll have worked everywhere
there's been a James Bond film?

Everywhere except Iceland.

Dr. No ?

Uh... Kingston, Crab Key,
England, and Jamaica.

License To Kill.

Uh, Key West,
Bimini Islands,

Isthmus City,
the Bahamas.

Now all I gotta do
is convince Hetty

to send us to Iceland.

To send you to Iceland.

(chuckles)

What about Moonraker ?
What about it?

Didn't they go into outer space
in Moonraker ?

Iceland and outer space.

Good luck with that one.

Oh, it never fails.
Oh, it never fails!

No matter how haggard
you look at the gym,

some guy is going to hit on you.

What is that?

Is that a humble brag?
A what?

You feign complaining while
patting yourself on the back.

No, I don't.

No, what you're really saying is

even at your worst,
people still hit on you.

No, that's-that's not
what I'm saying...

It's like me saying,

"I can't believe the referee
tripped over my feet

at the Lakers game."

Whoa, that is not
what I was saying.

Morning, Hetty.

Deeks has been shot.

How is he?

He's in surgery

at Pacific Beach Medical.

When?

This morning.

At Sundune Convenience Store
on Culver Boulevard.

Let's take my car.

I said, Mr. Deeks is in surgery.

I think your particular skills
would be better served

at the crime scene.

KENSI:
Hetty, uh...

Deeks is my second partner
to get shot.

So I would really like
to be there.

Look, last time I wasn't there
for my partner.

He was dead the next time
that I saw him.

So please, okay?

I think your partner would want
you there when he wakes up.

Keep us posted.

Okay.

Thank you.

Agent Hanna, NCIS.
Detective Versey.

Callan.
What do you have so far?

Well, it looks like
he walked in on a robbery.

There's been a dozen
robberies like this

every week
for the last month.

Not like this one.

This time it's one of ours.

Well, it looks cut-and-dry.
But under the circumstances,

I'd be happy to let
you guys run with it.

Let me know
what you find,

if there's anything
we can do to help.

Comes with the territory, right?

You the owner?

I can't believe it.

Marty was such a nice guy.

Still is.

What happened?

Two guys come in--
one goes to the back,

the other pulls a gun,
made me empty the register.

Did you get a good look at him?

I was focused on the gun
in my face.

SAM:
What can you tell us?

They wouldn't leave after
I gave them the money.

The one guy,

he kept glancing
out the window.

Checking to see
if it was safe to leave.

That's when
Marty came in.

Coffee, newspaper,
always with a joke, every day.

Gonna need to see your
surveillance tapes.

It's a new digital system.

I haven't quite figured out

how to use it.

Eric. You got any cameras
in the area we can look at?

On it.

CALLAN:
Any word on Deeks?

Kensi still hasn't
checked in from the hospital.

No news is good news, right?

No word on Deeks.

CALLAN:
Why leave a witness?

Why not shoot them both?

Robbery's one thing, but it
takes a cold-hearted person

to kill someone
in cold blood.

Maybe Versey's right.

Couple of wannabes got in
over their heads,

got scared and bailed.

Maybe.

You all right?

Deeks is a pain in the ass,
but he doesn't deserve this.

No one does.

How's he doing?

Two shots.
Worst was high in the chest.

Luckily it missed
his lung.

Second fractured a rib,
deflected away from the heart.

It was a small-caliber weapon.
He's going to be okay.

You can talk to him
when the anesthetic wears off.

Uh, the nurse mentioned that
there's no next of kin listed.

Is there someone you can call?

I don't know.

ERIC: The cameras were too
far away for an I.D.,

but they do tell us
that the men spent

seven minutes in the store
before Deeks entered.

I'm pulling up
the traffic cam footage

for the nearest intersection
for the same time.

CALLAN:
Same gray Mustang.

That's them.

ERIC:
No clear angle for an I.D.

Why so long
in the store?

Seven minutes? That's
an eternity for a heist.

Get in, take the
cash, get out.

Mr. Beale, would you pull up
1894 Parkson Avenue.

Traffic cam at the west end
of the street.

SAM:
What are we looking at, here?

HETTY:
Footage from an hour before
the shooting, please.

CALLAN:
That's Deeks' place.

Just pull that address
off the top of your head?

I wouldn't be doing my job if I
didn't keep track of my agents.

And by the way,
you're over-watering your lawn.

I prefer a lush lawn.

Eric, stop.

Back up the video.

Zoom in and enhance
the bottom left.

Gray Mustang.

Those guys in the Mustang
were waiting for him.

CALLAN:
Deeks didn't stumble
on any robbery.

He was ambushed.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(cell phone vibrating)

Callan.

How's he doing?

He's out of surgery.

Doctor says he's going
to be okay.

Anything at your end?

Same gray Mustang
that was at the crime scene

was found this morning
outside of Deeks' apartment.

Then it wasn't just a robbery.

No. Deeks was targeted.

Visitation hours are over.

You're on protection detail now.

Sam and I are headed your way.

Okay.

Uh, Callan?
Who's Deeks' next of kin?

That's a good question.

Eric's using Kaleidoscope
to look for that Mustang.

If we're lucky,

we'll get a hit.

He's out of surgery.
He's going to be okay.

One never gets used to the idea
of losing an agent,

on duty or off.

Go make him safe!

Oh. Hetty,
the hospital wanted to know

who to put down
as Deeks' next of kin.

Good question.

Am I dead?

'Cause I feel like
I should be dead.

Hey, there.

You're not getting rid
of me that easily.

Do I know you?

Deeks...

Not my nurse?

I'm serious, Deeks.

My name is "Deeks"?

Really?

I'm just kidding.

I remember you, Fern.

Yeah? You're a funny guy.

I'm gonna punch you
in your bullet hole.

That sounds vaguely dirty.

I think I'm gonna have
to tell Hetty.

Ah!
Hi.

I'm sorry. Security.
Can I see your I.D., please?

You're awake.

Yeah.

How do you feel?

Better and better.

Pain relief button,
call button.

Okay, Mr. Deeks?

You can call me Marty.

If you need anything,
I'm right outside.

Okay. Thank you, Nurse, uh...

Debbie.

(chuckles)

Nurse Debbie.

What?

"What?"
What?

(chuckles)
What is it with guys and nurses?

What are you
talking about?

They're helpful
and they're caring

and you know, they do
the whole sponge bath thing.

Oh! I should shoot you myself.

Get in line.

You guys catch my shooter yet?

Working on it.

And?

What makes you think
there's an "and"?

You heightened security,
you're checking badges.

You're obviously expecting
unwanted visitors.

The guys who shot
you this morning?

(clears throat)

Do you recognize them?

It's hard to remember.

I didn't walk in
on a robbery,

is that what
you're telling me?

You were targeted.
(groans)

There's footage of the car
on your block this morning.

Why would somebody target me?

Hey, I'm sure we all have
a very long list.

Yeah.

Is there anyone you
want me to contact?

Friends, family...

girlfriend?

I'm not dying, am I?

Not yet.

Okay.

Next of kin?

Good question.

He's lucky he's not dead,
'cause I'm gonna kill him.

Ah, cut him some slack.

What was he thinking?

Leaving at the same time
every day,

running the same route,

buying coffee from the same
store every day?

Deeks is a cop.

Wasn't trained
as an agent.

It's easy to fall
into a routine.

It's bad tradecraft.
As soon as he recovers,

he's gonna hear about it.

It's his neighborhood.

He felt safe.

Look where that got him.

Two shots to the chest.

The last thing we need
is another Dom situation.

When I run,
I switch up the times,

I vary distance and directions.

I belong to multiple gyms
under multiple names.

It's complicated but necessary.

Is that a humble brag?

What?

You kind of went on there
about how much you work out.

I was proving a point.

I don't know.

Sounded like a
humble brag to me.

Whatever.

Remember,
Deeks has been traumatized.

Go easy on him.

Okay. After I give him
a crash course in tradecraft

and before I rip him a new one.

You're starting to
sound like Hetty.

(phone rings)

Eric.

Kaleidoscope got a hit
on our Mustang.

Where?
Just outside Pacific Beach Medical.

Callen, he's right there.

Sam, gray Mustang.

Two suspects.

Coming to finish the job.

Federal agents!

(tires squealing)

(grunting)

(tires hissing and squealing)

VERSEY:
A 24-hour security detail's
been assigned.

CALLEN:
Who would target Deeks?

SAM:
Must have been
some mission for them

to come back in broad daylight.

CALLEN:
You think it's LAPD-related?

Us or you guys.

I mean, a guy like Deeks...

could be anybody.

I'm sure he's made plenty
of friends on both sides.

Think you can
put together

a list of possible
suspects?

(phone rings)
Consider it done.

Okay.
What do you got, Eric?

Positive I.D. on the driver:
Carlos Guzman.

He's a South L.A. gang member

who's been linked to three
non-gang-related murders.

And he usually works
with a buddy

by the name of Santo Perez.

I sent the file
to your smartphone.

(phone chirps)

(speaking low and indistinctly)

It's our passenger
from the Mustang.

Guns for hire?

Sounds like it.

Question is,
who hired them?

You know, Versey sure handed
this case over pretty easily.

CALLEN.
He's not exactly
shaken up.

Didn't even put a protective
detail on one of his own.

(speed dialing, line ringing)

ERIC:
Yeah?

Eric.

Run Detective Jeff Versey
through our system.

You got it.

I get shot again,
you guys better be in tears.

We weren't the
last time.

You weren't?

I mean, Eric may have
teared up a little.

Where's the love?

It won't happen again.

Then you're gonna need this.

They're moving
you to a room...

with a view.

Thank you.

You recognize
either of these guys?

Gang members.

This one's deceased.

Other than the one that used me
for target practice? No.

Any idea who would
want you dead?

We're not doing our job

if a few people
don't want us dead, right?

Humble brag.

We'll let him slide.

Considering
he's been shot.

Humble what?

One of Kensi's bad habits.

Oh, you mean like

when she complains
about something really positive?

Exactly.

Like when she says her size-two
jeans are too baggy on her?

That's not what I meant.

Okay, did you see

the shooter or not?

Small guy, small gun.

About five-seven, wiry,
pretty fast.

Fits Santo's description.

For gang members,

that's not a lot of firepower.

Looked like a .22.

That's gonna get you laughed at
in the streets, right?

That driver must have gunned up.

Found a .45 cal with Rhinos
on the driver.

CALLEN: Somebody really
doesn't like you, Deeks.

Yeah? Why didn't he get it right
the first time?

CALLEN:
The place is crawling with LAPD.

You should be safe.

Yeah? Who's gonna protect me
from her?

Oh, I think he's
feeling better.

After you recover,

you and I are gonna talk.

Hey, if you see Nurse Debbie
out there, will you, uh,

will you ask her
when I get my sponge bath?

Definitely
feeling better.

Yeah.
(chuckling)

Miss Jones.

A moment.

For me?

Uh, release papers for inmate
Gordon John Brandel

from Folsom State Prison?

Parole contacts and addresses.

I need you to track him down.

Will do.

Oh, Miss Jones?

Discreetly.

Yes!

Oh. What's all
the hubbub?

I tracked down our driver's
partner in crime--

pun intended--
Santo Perez.

That was fast.

One way of putting it.

Another way would be,
expeditious, swift

or my personal favorite,
greased lightning.

Too much?

Tad bit.
So how did you find him?

I plugged Santo's mug shot
into the facial rec database

and cross-referenced it with

all the major social media
networking sites.

Now, the majority of smartphones

and digital cameras
nowadays use some version

of instant upload software.

So if he pops up
on a Buddybook page

or a Twit-pic, we'll know.

Case in point:
Mmm.

Mid-Town Lanes
bowling alley,

friends of birthday
girl Katrina Hobbs.

Girls just want
to have fun. Okay.

Wait for it.

Santo.

I accessed their
surveillance system.

He's still there.

And I know
where he's going next.

The boatshed.

I'm calling the guys.

"Assault and battery,

armed robbery,
attempted murder."

It's quite a
résumé, Santo.

What can I say?
I'm an overachiever.

Who hired you
and your buddy

to shoot the guy
in the store?

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

Third strike, Santo.

The guy you
shot was a cop.

Oh, guy who hired you
didn't tell you that, huh?

Give me his name.
I may be able to help you.

Maybe reduce
your sentence.

You think you know
what's going down,

but you don't know nothing.

Enjoy your vacation in Chino.

We're missing something.

And he knows it.

No, he's taunting us.

More like he's scared
of something.

You can be
a little intimidating.

Someone bigger than me.

This is what I'm thinking.

This phone is registered
to Santo.

This one's burned.

Check the call log.

I already did.

Nothing older than a week.

This was just activated.

No calls going out,
13 calls coming in--

all from blocked numbers.

Or maybe from one number.

Exactly. If you want to talk
to the guy

who's doing your dirty work,
you give him a clean phone.

Let's call Eric.

Hey, guys.

Hey, either you've got
impeccable timing

or you're developing ESP.

I found something.

Internal affairs investigated

an LAPD officer for corruption
three years ago.

How is this
connected to Deeks?

Deeks was the informant.

He initiated the investigation.

Who were
they investigating?

Detective Jeff Versey.

Versey was eventually
cleared by Internal Affairs.

But has been passed up
for promotion three times.

I think Versey picked
a fist fight with Deeks.

Blamed him for ruining his careeer.

Looks like Versey forgot
a few minor details.

Just on my way to see you guys.

It's seems you left out
a few details at our last meeting.

You forgot to mention
you had history with Deeks.

Because that's exactly
what it is-- history.

(chuckles)

What happened?

You blame Deeks

for your career stalling out?

Decide to get a little revenge?

Look, Deeks' accusation
was a wake-up call.

It made me take the steps
to get sober.

So, yeah, I may not
get promoted,

but I also know that I'm
lucky to still have a job.

Last year,

Deeks comes by banging
on my door at 3:00 a.m.

I'm on vacation.

I almost ripped his head off
when I saw him.

You're not exactly
helping your case here.

When I calmed down,
I realized what he was doing.

He was checking in
on my sobriety.

Deeks is the closest thing
I have to a sponsor.

I hate to admit it,
but I need him.

Doesn't mean I like him,
but he's a good cop.

Better off looking at those
guys before you look at me.

A lot of names.

Like I said, good cop.

(engine starting)

(slurping)

(slurping continues)

I was going to eat that.

It's been sitting there
for hours.

I like to let my Jell-O breathe.

Mmm. Big baby.

I got shot, all right?

It's not like it is
in the movies.

(straining):
There's no slow motion-- ouch.

There's no awesome music
being played.

It's just pain.

Have you ever been shot?

You have been shot.

Where?

I've never been shot.

I don't believe you.

Was it an embarrassing
body part?

(chuckles)
It was, wasn't it?

There's a lot about ourselves

that we haven't
told each other yet,

so let's just respect
the pace, okay?

Okay.

Can you give me a hint?

Was it above
or below the waist?

Sam faxed over
a list of suspects.

And there's a lot of names here.

There's got to be
about a hundred,

so let's just...

I really pissed off
that many people?

I was actually thinking
the list was pretty short.

Maybe you should
add your name to it.

Yeah? You have a pencil?

The butt.

I bet you were shot
in the butt.

How about we start
at the beginning?

Seems like as good
a place as any.

Victor Rush.

Victor Rush, Victor Rush.

Petty theft, repeat offender.

Ronald Greene.

(sighs)

Second degree murder,
um, surrendered.

Sylvia Gray.

Restraining order.

Me against her,
because it was a...

it was a bad breakup.

We're going to need more Jell-O.

Uh, you wanted to see me?

Any progress, Miss Jones?

Well, I checked the DMV,
IRS and Social Security.

And checking in with

the state police
as we speak.

I take that as a "no."

Yes, that's a "no."

Something I can do for you,
Mr. Callen?

Is there something
you want to tell me?

No.

We're on the same
page here, right?

What would make you think
otherwise?

Just seems like
you're a few pages ahead.

I'm a fast reader.

CALLEN: You will tell me
if something comes up, right?

Of course, Mr. Callen.

Keep looking, Miss Jones.

SAM:
We got something.

I used the burn
phone's serial number

to track down
its supplier.

It's a retailer in
North Hollywood, to be exact.

Cash payment.

CALLEN:
There's no surprise there.

Now if you want to be safe,

you wouldn't use your own phone
to place calls.

You'd buy two burn phones.

One for him, one for Santo.

Which is precisely
what he did.

The retailer sold two
burn phones and kept a record

of the allocated SIM cards
for both of them.

We've got the number
of the second burn phone.

It's still active.

We can call him,
set up a meet.

It's got to be somebody
he can't ignore.

With something
he really needs.

All right, Eric,
I need some backstopping.

Name, phone number, address.

Occupation?

Attorney.

Uh, 60 more to go.

I'd say that's progress
in a Bizarro type of way.

Bizarro?

It's Superman's evil opposite.
It's nothing.

I know who he is.
How do you know who he is?

My dad's comic book collection.

I got my own.

DC and Marvel.

- You still got yours?
- Of course.

Me, too.

Hmm.

All right.

Eduardo Cruz.

Yo. What's up?

I just got lazy.

I didn't change my routine.

Made myself an easy target.

I change my routine
every single day.

Never drive the same way
to work.

Always security conscious.

impossible target, I get it.

No. Deeks, what I'm saying
is that it's hard.

You shouldn't beat yourself up.

I can't help it.

It's one of the things
I'm good at.

(groans)

Ooh!

Some cop, huh?

Your name is Kurt Donnerson.

Small-time attorney
with a questionable background.

Kurt Donnerson.

What if he doesn't
take the bait?

He'll take the bait,
as long as he answers his phone.

(dial tone drones)
Trace is set to activate.

(phone dialing, line ringing)

(ringing continues)

(busy signal)

Again.

(phone dialing, line ringing)

MAN:
Yes.

This is Kurt Donnerson.
I've got something you'll want.

How did you get this number?
A friendly cop.

What do you want?

Marty Deeks died 30 minutes ago.

And how do you know this?

I'm his attorney--
well, I was his attorney.

You don't have anything I need.

I have a lot of details.

I'm sure you know
Marty liked to talk.

I think maybe you
and I ought to meet

to come up with a mutually
beneficial deal,

so that Marty takes his
secrets to the grave.

Or I could call
my friend at the LAPD.

Downtown. 4th and Anderson.
Warehouse.

- 3:00.
- Yeah, I don't think so.

How about the food court
at Santa Monica Place.

Got a variety of dining options,
plenty of shopping

and lots of people around.

Warehouse. Take it or leave it.

I'll be there.

You might want to ditch
your burn phone.

Next call's likely going
to be from the LAPD.

(line disconnects)
Narrowed the location

to downtown.

Close, but no prize.

Play it back.

(audio rewinding)

MAN:
Yes.

CALLEN:
This is Kurt Donnerson.

I've got something you'll want.

Eastern European maybe.

How did you get this number?
Friendly cop.

What do you want?

Marty Deeks died 30 minutes ago.

And how do you know this?
I'm his attorney...

Meet's in two hours.

...I was his attorney...
He'll bring friends.

You don't have anything I need.
Yeah, but he's going to want to know

what Kurt Donnerson knows
before he kills him.

I'm sure you know
Marty liked to talk.

MAN (on recording):
How did you get this number?

CALLEN:
A friendly cop.

(sighs)
It doesn't sound familiar.

MAN: And how do you know this?
NELL: You got something?

Ah, I can't put my finger on it.

You recognize
the voice?

Not the voice,
the accent.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's
Eastern European, maybe Russian.

That's awesome, because
I've narrowed it down to three.

None of which
are Eastern European.

Well, we'll know
soon enough.

Callen's on his way
to meet this guy.

Okay, Ivan Lee and...

Michael Thompson.

My personal testimony put them
both away-- life sentences.

Non-related cases and they're
both going to hate me

until the day that I die.

It's possible they could
have hired someone.

Possible.

- But you highly doubt it?
- Yeah.

There's only two names here.

You said there were three.

Third guy I shot
when I was 11 years old.

His name?

Gordon John Brandel.

Callan, do you read?

Loud and clear.

Sam?

SAM:
I copy.

Deeks gave me the
names of three people

who may have
targeted him.

What did he say about Brandel?

That he shot him when he was 11.

Anything else?

That's it.

Keep looking for him, Nell.

Maybe after this, Sam,

we can get Hetty to put us on
the next space shuttle launch.

Knock it off your Bond list.

Keep talking,
and me and the tac-team

will be a little slow
in saving you.

Mm-hmm. That's assuming
that I would need to be saved.

You always need saving.

That's really not true, although
Hetty tells me I do need

to learn to include others.

Why didn't he finish me off?

KENSI:
Panic? Fired wildly?

No, he aimed.

And missed.

Okay, so, then,
why is he carrying a .22?

It's a girl's gun.

I'm a girl.

(straining):
Well, you're not a real girl.

You're like...
you're like Wonder Woman.

You know, and Wonder Woman
wouldn't carry a .22.

Compliment accepted.

Yeah.

Also, if you're going
to kill someone with a .22,

you got to shoot them
directly in the head.

Otherwise, it's only
going to wound you.

Unless that's what they wanted.

ERIC:
It's after 3:00.

Where is he?

♪ ♪

Wait a minute.

If I'm an easy target,

that makes you guys
impossible targets, right?

I mean, I'm new to this,
but you guys...

you guys live your life
with a strict regimen

that includes heightened
security awareness at all times.

You said so yourself.

I'm-I'm sorry.
I'm not following.

I'm a cop, right?

And like it or not,
I'm the weakest link here,

so what if...
what if I'm not the target?

What if I'm the bait?

To lure the rest of us out.

(phone dialing, line ringing)

Go, Kensi.

Eric, Callen is walking
into a trap.

Deeks was not the target.

This was a setup
to hit the rest of the team.

Callen, Sam,
Kensi says abort mission.

It's a trap.

You are safe. They are not.

Wait a minute.
I'm still thinking here.

Doesn't add up.

If we're the targets, this is
the perfect place for an ambush.

Unless we're not the target.

If I'm not the target,
why does Santos and his buddy

come back to the hospital?

Kensi!

Kensi.
Kensi.

(tires squealing)

(horns honking,
tires screeching)

Sorry.

(phone rings)
Sam.

SAM (breaking up):
Kensi.

Sam?

Kensi!
Hello?

(beeping)

Oh, great.

Lost her.
(speed dialing)

Eric.

Call LAPD security
at the hospital

and let them know
what's going on.

And keep trying Kensi.

Do not let her leave
the hospital.

She's the target.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

(phone ringing)

Oh, finally.
Sam, I'm coming to you guys.

SAM:
Do not leave the hospital.

We're on our way to you.

Kensi, you're the target.

(grunting and groaning)

(gunfire)

(groaning)

OFFICER:
Everybody back!

(indistinct shouting nearby)

(whispering):
Joshua.

(groaning)

- Deeks. I got him.
- (groans) Oh, God.

Gurney!
Get a gurney!

Give me your weapon.

(tires screeching)

All right.

(groaning)
Okay.

ERIC:
Our Chechen terrorist,

known only as Vakar.

He must have thought you could
lead him to his wife and son.

Joshua Mastin
and his mother, Emma.

CALLEN:
Former Chechen Shahidka--

or, in English, Black Widow.

When I was relocating them
after the first attempt

to kill her,
she told me he'd try again.

ERIC:
She was right.

But he had to find you first.

Deeks.

Mr. Deeks needs to brush up
his security protocol.

Mr. Hanna.

With pleasure.

Should be worth watching.

So, will you tell them?

(chuckles)

I wish I could.

Three days after I relocated
them with new identities,

they vanished.

(sighs)

I've finished the research
on Gordon John Brandel.

Thank you, Miss Jones.

Thank you, Miss Jones.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

Hey.

How long
have you been there?

Long enough.

You should have woke me up.

You need your rest.

You ate my Jell-O.

(chuckles)

What can I do for you?

Well, given the
circumstances,

I thought it would
be appropriate

to update my files

on your next of kin.

Gordon John Brandel.

Your father.

I figured you always knew.

You figured correctly.

I was 11 when I shot him.

He was wielding a shotgun.

Yeah.

It was self-defense.

(sighs)

He was incarcerated
in, um, Folsom State Prison.

Paroled in 1996

after serving five years
of a seven-year sentence.

You found him?

Yes.

I found him.

He died in 1998.

Auto accident.

Hospital admin asked me
for my next of kin.

Who should I, uh...

Who should I put down?

HETTY:
Lange, Henrietta.