NCIS: Los Angeles (2009–…): Season 6, Episode 1 - Deep Trouble: Part 2 - full transcript

Callen and Sam are trapped in an armed submarine that terrorists have aimed to hit an aircraft carrier in San Diego. Meanwhile, Hetty defies orders and forgoes her trip to Washington, as the team tries to locate and save Callen and Sam and prevent the terrorist attack.

Previous on
NCIS-Los Angeles...

The White Ghost
has come back to haunt me.

It's a witch hunt.

Ms. Jones,
I need a flight to Washington.

Michael Wilson. Guy's served time
and he's a white supremacist.

Card-carrying member
of the Herrenvolk Brotherhood.

- Is that Wilson?
- Guy's in pretty bad shape.

What's shaking, partner?

Hi. All right. Hi.
Ooh.

DEA Agent Talia Del Campo,

this is Special Agent
Kensi Blye.



What's your connection to Michael Wilson?
The DEA has been

following
the Harrenvolk Brotherhood.

They move half the meth
on the West Coast.

What about coke?
Not traditionally, but

they've been forming
some new alliances.

What kind of boat
did you build for him?

A submersible.

And the Colombians
have found subs being

built capable of hauling
200 tons of cocaine.

Hey.

Fertilizer?

Looks like the drugs
have been loaded out.

This whole thing's
a giant torpedo.

You cannot escape.



Neither can you.

Callen, Sam, do you hear me?

Ca... SA... do you... ...me?

Callen, Sam, do you hear me?

Oh!

What's happening?

Sam and Callen
are on the sub.

Where is it?
It launched.

We are in the sub.

I repeat-- we are in the sub.

...drug... ...lizer.

Say again, you're breaking up.

SA... ...breaking up.

They replaced the drugs
with fertilizer.

I need eyes
on that vessel, Beale.

I know, I know.
I'm trying.

I've got the Coast Guard Air
Station on the line.

They're headed for the ocean.
Callen, Sam,

do you still hear me?
Callen?

Damn it.
Callen, Sam.

Op... we...

We are inside
the sub.

Ca... ...me.

I got nothing.

We're on our own.

And we're diving.

♪ NCIS: LA 6x01 ♪
Deep Trouble, Part II
Original Air Date on September 29, 2014

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

We cannot let that sub
get to the ocean.

How do we do that?

Lock up the harbor.
Even if we block it with ships,

it's not gonna matter. I mean,
they're underwater, in a sub.

What are we gonna
use, a giant net?

G., give it up.

There's no way to open
that hatch from this side

short of C-4. This thing is
built like a damn battleship.

The hell are you doing
there, MacGyver?

It'll help us know
which way we're going.

We're turning
starboard.

How deep Eric say
this thing can go?

Deeper than I want it to.

60 feet.

Harbor's not even 50.
Deep enough

to come and go
without being seen.

Plus all the ship
traffic'll make it hard

to pick up on sonar.

We got to find a way to force
this thing to the surface.

Yeah.

What sort of music would
you like to listen to?

Oh, I think I'd prefer
the silence.

The Coast Guard has a helicopter
over the harbor,

but they haven't spotted

anything yet.
They could sneak out

underneath a tanker
and we'd never know it.

What's going on?

What the hell was that?

It's Hetty.

Where is she?

Everywhere.

Turn her off.

I asked you a question.

We've got this,
just focus on your trip.

Don't handle me, Owen.

Beale.
I'm trying.

Mr. Beale, if you turn me off,

you'll regret it long after
your wounds have healed.

Callen and Sam are trapped
on the narco sub.

What?

How did they get on...

Thank you.
You're welcome.

Say something nice
at my funeral.

We need to get back.
Immediately.

You'll miss your flight.
To hell with my flight.

Turn around.

I have strict orders
to accompany you

all the way to the gate,
Ms. Lange.

And I have a lipstick gun
in my purse

and I am not afraid to use it.

Shoot me and the car
will crash.

That's precisely why
I'm wearing my seat belt.

We should go to the hospital
and question Michael Wilson.

His gang is moving the
drugs; maybe he knows

where the sub is going.

We're not even sure
if he can talk.

Guys, what about the drugs?
We can't let several tons

of coke hit the street. Come on.
All right, here's the deal:

you go to the hospital,
see if you can interview Wilson.

I'm gonna go back to his house,
see if I can find anything.

Can I ride with you?
Yeah, sure. I'll call in

the other agents
and brief 'em there.

You know what,
on second thought, why don't

you question Wilson.
I'll ride with Talia.

What?
Why?

Because I don't want
to go to the hospital.

You're the one who wanted
to question him.

No, I said somebody should

question him.
it doesn't have to be me.

Do you want me
to question this guy?

No.
No.

Okay.

Fine.

Thank you.

I will go to...
the hospital, then.

We're federal agents.
The Coast Guard and Navy

are already searching
for this vessel.

You okay?
Considering I'm

trapped in a tiny submarine
with tons of fertilizer,

essentially turning it
into a giant underwater bomb...

It's not that tiny.

Speak for yourself.

All right, look,
let's think, here.

What can we do
to stop this thing?

I don't know.

We're in the bow.

Most of the controls'll
be in the bridge

back to the engine,
rudder and prop.

What if we purge the ballast?
They used the cocaine

as a ballast, now
it's the fertilizer.

Any seawater ballast controls'll
be in the bridge as well.

You got any

good news for me?
So far this thing isn't leaking.

What the hell was that?

It must have hit the bottom.

Or some old pilings.

This thing was made
for open water,

not navigating obstacles.

Well, this just keeps getting
better and better, doesn't it?

I've got a live
satellite feed of the harbor.

Still no sign of the sub.

I need you to plot
possible courses

using everything we know
about this sub's capabilities.

Got it.

And I want you to find the
guy who designed and built

this submarine and bring
him to the boatshed.

I promise not to
work Beale to death

until you get back.

Let's move it, Jones.

Have fun.

Yeah.

Five degrees between...

Hope that's not a farewell note.
Trying to get

a rough idea of where
we are based on speed,

running time, and the
course correction.

And?

I'm guessing we're
about three miles

off the coast of Huntington.

Well, that's good.
Means they're not planning

on detonating this thing
under the Santa Monica Pier.

Check it out.

Batteries.

Makes sense to run 'em
along the keel because of weight.

Probably wired the
length of the sub.

We disconnect these, we'll cut
their power by what-- 30%?

Should at least slow 'em down
until they surface

and switch to diesel.

Let's do it.

We're losing power.

What is happening?

They disconnected

some of the batteries.
Can we fix it?

Yes.
We just have to rewire them.

We can't do that
with them in there.

We can if they're dead.

Turn off the air and power
to the forward hold.

20 bucks says
that was intentional.

Yeah, we can use the batteries
to power these lights back up.

Yeah.

But they won't help
with the air.

I'm really starting
to hate these guys.

You think you're clever,
but you're not.

Who am I speaking to?

I am the captain.

I am Jabril.

And you are dead men.

What's your game plan,
Jabril?

This is no game.

This is jihad.

We will eliminate jahiliyyah.

We will restore sharia

to the world.

What the hell's jahiliyyah?

The time of darkness before
we were given the Quran.

Where we headed, Jabril?

We are going to paradise.

You are going to hell.

Istishhadi.

These guys are martyrs.

Which means...

this is a suicide mission.

Yeah.

Dr. Werner, extension 221.

Mr. Wilson,

I'm Marty Deeks. I'm
a detective with LAPD.

I hate pigs.

Huh. But apparently
love nostalgia.

Seriously, who calls
cops pigs anymore?

I got to ask you
some questions.

I don't talk to pigs.

All right, well, how do
you feel about the Navy?

'Cause I'm currently
assigned to NCIS.

Naval Criminal Investigative
Services-- you heard of us?

No? No? Well,
we're pretty cool.

Yeah, chicks dig us,
which is awesome.

The point is
that two of their agents,

who happen to be my friends,
are stuck on your submarine.

I'll die
before I tell you anything.

You will
if we don't speed this up.

Go to hell!

None of my guys
or their informants

have noticed anything
hitting the street.

My guess is they're
still cutting the drugs,

but the clock
is ticking.

Yeah, I'm well aware
of that. Thank you.

Okay, I wasn't implying
that you weren't.

Good.

All right, look,
I only have one agenda here:

find the drugs,
arrest the people who got 'em.

I'm not trying
to poach your boyfriend.

Deeks is not my boyfriend.
He's my partner.

My God,

you guys are both in denial.

No wonder you're wired so tight.

You can shut up
any second now.

You know, if I were you,
I would just go for it.

Have a full-on freak-fest weekend,
get it out of your system

before you blow an O-ring
or something.

No wonder
you like him.

You both talk like idiots.

Careful, honey.

Don't let all
that pent-up sexual frustration

force you to say something
you're gonna regret.

You need to step off.
You need

to let that boy under your hood
for a little oil change

before somebody else does.

Is that a threat?
No, that's a fact.

Well, here's a threat.

Stay away from my partner.

That's a warning.

Get out of my face before I
break that pretty nose of yours.

That is a threat.

Whoa!

Okay, okay, okay!
Break it up!

Hey! What the hell's wrong
with you two?

We're out of here!

Hey. You all right?

Yeah, I'm good.

Ow.

Wait!

I don't want your apology.

Good, 'cause you're not
getting one.

Receipts for fertilizer.

Ten bags at a time
from several different places.

They're building a bomb?

Or they've turned the sub
into one.

I know you were
a math-a-magician

or whatever in high school,

but you really think this is the
best use of your time right now?

I was a mathlete,

and I'm trying to determine
how much air we have left.

This thing is essentially
a cylinder,

the volume of which
is pi times the radius squared,

so about four-four feet
by ten.

Not counting
what's in the nose,

that gives us
roughly 500 cubic feet.

Now, the two of us
will breathe about a cubic foot

every two minutes, which is...
250 minutes. Four hours.

We're laughing.

Yeah.

If we didn't have to exhale.

Every time
we breathe out,

the carbon dioxide level
in here increases.

Why do you always have to be
a sub's half-empty guy, huh?

Because when the CO2 level

reaches three percent,
our breathing doubles.

Then when it reaches
five percent,

our breathing
quadruples.

Beyond that, we'll start
showing signs of...

disorientation, blurred vision

and, uh, loss of consciousness
and eventual death.

Bet you mathletes were
a lot of fun, huh?

"Hey, guys, guess how many
pounds per square inch it takes

to crush a kitten's skull?"

We've been running straight
for a long time.

That's good.

Less chance of
hitting something.

Okay.

You want to strike out
at America,

you basically have
an underwater bomb.

Where do you use it
if it's not a crowded pier?

I'd do a bridge during rush hour.
Okay.

Offshore oil rig. It's
an environmental disaster,

loss of lives. Not to mention
the symbolism of oil.

Cruise ship.

Lots of innocent civilians.

Icon of Western excess.

A war ship.

We're headed for San Diego.

Where the USS Van Buren
is in port.

You destroy
an American aircraft carrier,

that's like Christmas
for insurgents.

You want to talk
about symbolism...

Not to mention
the environmental disaster.

The USS Van Buren
is nuclear-powered.

There are two reactors on that thing.
The Navy

will be actively searching
for us. Plus, they already have

security measures in place
at the base,

but... we can't run the risk
of this thing slipping through.

If we can't force
them to the surface...

We have to sink this thing.

You know what that means?

Yeah.

Every receipt is for
ten 50-pound bags of fertilizer

paid with cash.

Now, I've checked garden centers
and home supply depots

in a ten-mile radius, and so far

I've got
three more identical purchases.

If they're related,
that's two tons of explosives.

None of which was found in the house.
How many tons

of coke on that sub?
I don't know. Nine. Maybe ten.

If they replaced
with fertilizer...

They have
a giant underwater bomb.

Eric?

She's back.

Tell me

what's going on.
And where the hell is Granger?

You were paid to design
and build

a sub for the
purpose of smuggling

several tons of cocaine
into the country.

No, I...
Shut the hell up.

If you open your mouth
one more time,

unless it's to answer
a question,

I'm gonna wrap your
tongue around my fist

and beat you
with it.

They killed my wife.
That's on you.

For all I know, having her
killed was part of your deal.

No,

that's not true.
Why didn't they scuttle

the sub after the drug run?

I don't know.
They wouldn't risk

another run.

So they must've had
another plan.

If you don't cooperate,

you're gonna be
an accomplice

to anything that happens
to those two federal agents.

I hope they die. Painfully.

Oh, you mean like you?

I'm not dying.

You're not?

All right, let me let you in on
something pretty special here.

Smile.

That's you, Wilson.

You got burns over 70%
of your body.

I refuse to die.

I refused
to grow up.

Actually, that's working out
pretty well for me.

But you, you, on the other hand,
well, let's see, shall we?

"Surviving burns."

It is the rule
of the nines.

So, you get nine percent
for each arm,

18% for each leg,

nine for the front torso,
nine for the back torso,

another nine
for the head.

Yours is probably a six
for burns,

another two for ugliness--

and that's being generous
on both accounts.

You take that number,
add it to your age

and if that number's
over 100,

then it says you're not
gonna survive. You're 32,

and that's... 48, 52, 61, 70.

70 plus 32

is a hundred and...

102.

You're dying, Wilson.

You're dying.

No, no.
See, don't...

You don't want to...
you don't want to do that

because the, uh,
salt from your tears,

you're gonna sting your burns.

Screw you, bitch!

Bitch? I'm not the one crying.

Wow, this is...
this is getting awkward.

Do you want some water
or something?

No.
No water?

What about, uh...
what about whiskey?

Look at those eyes

light up.

It's funny 'cause I always carry
around these little rascals

just in case I get shot
on the job by some loser

like yourself. I figure
if I'm gonna die,

I might as well have a drink
before I go.

There you go, brother.

Oh, uh, one thing.

Where is your sub going?

Oh, you son of a bitch.

All right, suit yourself.

Oh, God, that's smooth.

You know, I saw a guy
with a drill bit in his head.

He could probably use a drink.

It's not my sub!

How the hell do we sink it?

We need a big-ass drill

or a cutting torch
to breach the hull.

Could a thermite reaction
burn through?

Maybe.

But we'd need magnesium
to ignite some iron oxide.

We got plenty of rust here from
all the salt water corrosion.

We need to collect
as much as we can.

We add some aluminum
to get the temperature up,

we may be able
to burn through a weld

or soften it enough
to compromise its integrity.

But we don't have
any magnesium.

We have lithium.
From the batteries.

Lithium.

It's an alkali metal.

It's highly reactive
and flammable.

Hell, it's a fusion fuel
in staged thermonuclear weapons.

We short-circuit the batteries,
we can induce thermal runaway.

I don't think
I've ever seen you this excited

about a suicide plan.

The sub belongs to the hadjis.

Who?
Some camel cowboys

had it built
to bring in the drugs.

You got names for me?

Guy named Jabril.

We called him
Jar Jar Binks.

I'm sure he appreciated that.
You got last names?

No.

Where's he from?

Syria, Iraq.
I don't know.

Some Middle East crap hole.

And where
are the drugs now?

Oh, I ain't telling you that.

Oh, God, that's good.

You know, I feel like, uh,

we should probably just...

be honest with each other,
you know?

'Cause here's the deal:

no one's gonna know.

I mean, think about it.
Your brothers are gonna think

you died defending the cause.

You're gonna take several tons
of cocaine off the street,

which is a bargaining chip
in the afterlife,

and, uh, let's just face it,

you're probably gonna need that.

Mike?

God have mercy
on your soul.

All right, all right.

All right.
A guy named

Worm is cutting it at his place.

I don't know his real name,
I swear.

Works out of a Chinese
restaurant in Reseda.

So, you got a white supremacist
working at a Chinese restaurant?

Guess you can never
judge a... book by its cover.

Hey, hey, hey.

What about my drink?
This?

No, you can't... you can't drink
in your condition.

I'm just kidding.

That's freaking apple juice!

You're a lying bastard!
I know,

but the good news is,
I lied about your burns, too.

They're only 25%.
You're gonna live.

Have fun in prison.

Oh, no! God!
Son of a bitch!

I think somebody needs
their catheter changed.

I'll check.

Be careful
with that stuff.

It's highly corrosive.

Matches? Lighter?

Nothing?

Do you?

Try not to
inhale the smoke.

You ready?

Light it up.

Fire in the hole.

What is that?

It's a fire.

Now, G.

Move! Watch out.
It's not working.

The hull has been breached.

That is a
leak alarm.

They put a hole in the ship?

Even if that chamber fills
with water,

it won't affect us
or our mission.

Move what you can into the
stern to counterbalance.

Go.
Yeah.

What are you doing?

Morse code.

The Navy's got
to be listening.

Sorry I interrupted your little
game of, uh, Candy Crush there.

I'm writing a letter
to Michelle and the kids.

We're getting out of here, Sam.

In case we don't.

Well, tell her I died
saving your life, will you?

You're joking about a letter

my family's gonna read
after I'm dead.

Too soon?

What's wrong with you?

Never heard of black humor?

Are you trying to make me angry?

'Cause if you are, it's working.
Good.

I need you angry.

But not at me. At them.

'Cause sooner or later,

they're gonna open that hatch,

and when they do,
we need to be ready to roll.

Was that your plan?

There's no way
they're gonna open that hatch

and risk flooding the bridge.
That's just stupid.

Trust me. I got a good feeling
about this plan.

You remember when I told you

that the CO2 level buildup will
start affecting your ability

to think straight?

Well, it's happening.

Either they open that hatch,
and we go out firing...

Or we sink.

Or the Navy picks
up on my Morse Code.

Then they torpedo us, and we sink.
Either way,

we're not letting them
get to San Diego, right?

Right.

What are they doing?

Those are

the sounds of desperate men.

No.

I think that's Morse code.

They're trying
to alert their Navy.

The flooding is slowing
us down even more.

They must have disconnected

the bilge pump.

We can't risk surfacing.

Divert as much power
as you can to the engines.

Shut off everything else.

Lights?
Lights,

air,

everything.

I understand, sir.

I was on my way
back to Washington...

Yes, sir.

I will, sir.

Deeks has got an alias and a
possible location for the drugs.

Guy's name is Worm,

aka Richard Miller.

He works
at The Great Wall restaurant

on Sherman Way in Reseda.

Alert the others.

Uh, he also
got the name

of someone who may have
paid for the sub-- Jabril.

But, uh, it's pretty common,
and I don't have a surname.

And?

And I also picked up
a Naval transmission.

COM-Third-Fleet has launched
the alert 30 ASW package

with two H-60s and a P8A

Poseidon sub hunter,
call sign Talon Five-Five.

Hetty, they have ord...
Have orders

to locate and destroy
the submarine.

I know.

What can we do?

Pray...

loud and hard.

He requires no prayers.

It is permissible.

It is disrespectful.

We need no Salat,
no Ghusl, no Kafan.

We will be buried
in our blood and clothes because

the Shaheed is resurrected
on Yawm Al-Din.

And the smell of our blood

will be like
the sweetest-smelling musk.

Wire the detonators.

So, we got a couple cars
in the back in the...

alley. What the hell happened to
you two? You get in a catfight?

Don't be stupid.
Seriously.

You run into more skinheads?

Yes.
No.

Don't worry about it.
Are they in there?

I didn't get close enough.
There's a dog.

You're afraid of dogs?
I'm not talking

about, like,
a King Charles spaniel.

This thing looked
like a freaking hyena.

Actually, you know what?
It maybe have been a hyena.

Was it laughing at you?

Oh.

No, no. What's...
what's that?

I don't... I don't like this.
I don't like that.

Not at all.
Not one bit.

All right.

We'll take the front, you guys
breach the back on our count.

Sounds good.
Okay?

Am I missing something?

Yes, it's called
a cerebral cortex.

Sorry, we are not open yet.

Oh, no.
We're not here to eat.

I just want to look at this
place for our wedding reception.

We're getting married.

Congratulations.

Oh, thank you.

To be completely honest,
I thought she'd never ask.

What? He's kidding.

He's just a kidder.

Uh, guilty as charged.
I asked her, but only

after her sister
turned me down.

Would you stop it? She's gonna
think you're serious.

It's not as bad as
it sounds, Madge.

They're identical twins,

and you can only marry one
at a time in this state,

and I wanted a trophy wife,
so, second place it is.

Second place!

You're going
to make a beautiful bride.

I agree.

Mm. Thank you.

But you have to come back
to speak to the manager.

- I don't book these things.
- Okay, that's okay. We can just

take a quick look around. I...
Sorry, no.

No. I can't have anyone
in here right now.

You are going to have to leave.

I talked to Richard,
Madge, and he said

that you would take
good care of us.

Who?

Richard Miller, aka Worm?

That name doesn't ring a bell.
Oh, really?

'Cause it...
Uh, uh, uh...

Uh, uh, put down the
scissors. Put 'em down.

Talia, we're a go.
Put down the scissors.

Federal agents! Hands up!

On your knees!
On your knees!

On your knees now.

All clear.

Wow. Remind me never
to get between you two.

Not when you're armed, at least.

Ooh, 100 keys here, easy.

We good?

Yeah.

Hetty, we secured the drugs.

They were still cutting 'em.

Looks like it's all here. Hetty?

I'm afraid
we have another problem.

- What sort of problem?
- The Navy is

hunting for the sub.

And so they should be.

With orders

to destroy on contact.

Well, then, you got

to make a phone call
and buy us some time.

I'm afraid I've used up
all my favors in Washington.

I'm persona non grata
at the moment.

What about
the assistant director?

Callen and Sam are on

that sub, sir.

I'm well aware of that, Blye.

I will do anything
to get my people back,

but this isn't about them.

Then what's it about?

It's about what they may be
planning on doing with it.

The USS Van Buren
has 508 officers,

3,789

enlisted men on board.

It also has
two nuclear reactors,

75 aircraft and three million
gallons of aviation fuel.

Not to mention
all the armament

that goes on those planes
and the weapons on the ship.

You got to get us out
there, we got to do something.

- Like what?
- Anything.

Can-Can we get a chopper?
No,

probably not.
But I can.

Grab your gear.

Nice.

Thank you, Owen.

Stand by to launch sonobouy
in three,

two, one.

Launch.

We're diving.

I'm not sure.

No, I can feel it.

As the bow takes on
water it pitches forward.

They'll try to compensate,
but the extra drag and weight--

that'd take more power.
Power they don't have

since we disconnected
the batteries.

We may be able to travel forward
bow down without diving,

but eventually
the weight'll win out.

We'll drop like a rock, G.

I love it when
a plan comes together.

And that's where you say, uh,

"I pity the fool
that messes with me."

I'm starting to think I'd have
been better off with Deeks.

The hell was that?

That was outside.

Depth charge.

They know we are here.

We are invisible
to the infidels.

Allah Akbar.

Allah Akbar.

Allah Akbar.

It's probably a sonobouy.

It's command activated
to gauge range, bearing

and Doppler information
on active sonar contacts.

Meaning the next
explosion's a torpedo?

If they pinged us.

Let's make sure they do.

Hey.

You all right?

I'm fine.

All that muscle mass...

takes up a lot of oxygen.

If we get out of here...

you might want to think
about taking up Pilates.

How about you stop talking
to conserve air.

They're gonna open that hatch

any second now.

They better.

'Cause that's about
all we've got left.

How close are we?

We have no idea what
heading they're on, but based

on the max speed of the sub,
you should be approaching

the furthest they
could have gotten.

But it's
a wide arc.

Beale, can you patch us
into the Navy search aircraft?

I can try.

Hell, I can try.
I need you to actually do it.

Yes, sir.

What happens now?

I think this is where
you come up with a plan.

Isn't it your turn to save us?

The flooding is causing
the bow to sink.

We don't have enough
power to counter it.

We have to pump the water out
or we're never gonna make it.

If we open the hatch,
we'll flood the bridge.

We shut off the electricity.

We use the manual controls.

Then we pump
the water out.

After we kill them.

Kensi, you need to circle
back, you've gone further

than the sub could have traveled
in this amount of time.

Copy that.

Let's turn around.

I've got a transmission from the P8A.
Let's hear it.

COM-Third-Fleet, this is

Talon Five-Five,
we have acoustic contact

with unidentified
sub track designated

Whiskey One Tango Zero.

Talon Five-Five, copy.

Set weapons posture one,
weapons status tight.

Kill track
Whiskey One Tango Zero.

COM-Third-Fleet,
this is Talon Five-Five.

Roger, out.

Lord have mercy.

Aah!

Kill them.

Ali.

Can we get this thing
to the surface?

Ah.

It took on too much water

and the power's out.

Our only hope is
a free ascent.

We're not gonna be able
to open that hatch

till the sub fills with water,

the pressure equalizes.

We got to flood it.

Right before we open the hatch,

you have to take in as much
air into your lungs as you can

and then scream all the way
to the surface.

Doesn't sound very manly.

If you don't, the
air will expand

and your lungs will explode.

Let's go, move.

Yes, I understand the threat,
Admiral, but I have two agents

aboard that vessel and I'm just
asking you to try to disable it

as opposed to sinking it.

Yes, sir.

I understand, sir.

All stations, we are
weapons release on my mark.

In three, two, one.

Torpedo away.

Deeks.

COM-Third-Fleet,
this is Talon Five-Five.

Sub track
Whiskey One Tango Zero

engaged and destroyed.

Oh, my God.

You still thinking about
getting that boat?

You think that's funny, huh?

It's pretty funny.

You remember to grab
your car keys back there?

Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.

Looks like we're swimming home
and walking home.

Maybe not.

Hey!
Hey!

Hey!
Hey!

We got survivors
in the water.

Sam, Callen.

You guys, we got them.

- I can see them.
- Come again, Kensi?

Callen and Sam are alive.

I repeat:
Callen and Sam are alive.

They're in the water.

Thanks.

So you're not going
to the boatshed?

I sent Nell.

So what should I tell Washington

when they call to find out
where you are?

I've always been partial
to the truth.

You know, I'm not sure
they know what that is

or even care anymore.

Do you ever feel

you're getting too old for this?

Yeah.

Every damn day.

Looks like you might have
ruptured an eardrum.

What?

You're both lucky you weren't
killed by the concussion.

Damn lucky.
I just came by, you guys,

to make sure you're okay.

Glad you're doing well.
Oh, yeah,

We do this sort of thing
all the time.

God, don't tell me that.

Oh, never fear,
Dr. Deeks is here.

Nerd Herd, you want
to grab some, uh,

pint glasses over there?

All right.

So, uh,

how are my little mermaids?
Okay,

on that note,
I should get going.

But, um, guys,

thank you
for everything.

It was, uh, it was
a pleasure working with you.

You-- so good to meet you.
Yeah. Hey.

I'll give you a call,
we'll get together.

We'll, uh, talk about...
Oh, yeah.

That's... Oh.

Okay.

What?

- What was that?
- Aw, don't worry about it.

Deeks,

what are you doing?
We got cervezas

and we have, uh, dark rum.

No.
Yeah. Yes.

Yes.
No.

Ladies and gentlemen,
boys and girls, we have...

Depth Charges.

You're ridiculous.

Give me one.

To, um...

Partners.

Friends.

Friends.

Friends and partners.

Friends
and partners.

Three, two, one.

Aah... Go!
Oh, yeah.

Oh, God, that is...
that is delicious.

Damn.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man