NCIS: New Orleans (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 19 - The Insider - full transcript

Excuse me,
sir. Sir.

Can you step over here, please?

Problem?

No problem. Random
additional screening.

Uh, this necessary?
My flight was two hours late,

my buddy's been waiting.
Just take a moment.

Right this way.

I understand you're
doing your job,

but maybe you can,
uh, cut me a break?

Thank you for your service.

No, thank you.



Passenger down.

Need an EMT in Customs now.

Sir. Can you
hear me, sir?

He's not breathing.
Got no pulse.

Start CPR.
EMT's on the way.

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 1x19 ♪
The Insider
Original Air Date on April 7, 2015

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ How, how, how, how ♪

♪ Hey, hey ♪

♪ You gotta come on. ♪

All right, let me get
this straight. Okay?

I drive you to the
airport, I carry your kit,



but I don't get
to work the body?

It seems like I'm more
chauffeur than intern.

If it's your calling,
a little grunt work won't

seem like an imposition.
Calling?

More like a little
pocket money.

Ooh, the lady doth
protest too much, methin.

What lady?

Shakespeare.
Hamlet.

Never heard of either of 'em.
Oh...

Look, I would protest
a little less

if you let me
near that body.

Patience is a virtue.

Now, be a doll
and go grab me a...

Coffee, sugar, cream.

Thank you.

Our victim-- Navy Petty Officer

First Class Felix Armstrong--

was making his way
through customs

when he suddenly collapsed.

Found this in his jacket.

Dalteparin?
It's an anticoagulant.

It's used to prevent
blood clots.

Also note the bluish

discolorations of the nail bed.

Suggests cyanosis--

lack of oxygen in the blood.

Often caused
by cardiopulmonary arrest.

So, heart attack.

Possibly.

But cyanosis also occurs
in drug overdoses.

No way to tell
for sure until I get...

Get him on the table?
Yeah.

Let me get you a T-shirt made
with that written on the front.

Once I run the tox screen,

I'll let you know
what we're looking at.

What do you got?
Got the flight records.

Armstrong took a chartered
plane from Havana.

Must've been stationed at Gitmo.

But he took a chartered flight?

What's off
is log at Belle Chasse

said they got
a Gitmo flight landing

in a couple of hours.

Why pay for a chartered flight
when there's

free transport same day?
I'll try to find out

why Armstrong was on the flight.

See if he talked
anyone on the plane.

I'll talk to airport police.
Go.

Excellent,

right at the base
of the skull.

Yup, uh, forcing the chest to,

uh... um...

You know, the...

Expand for maximum access
to the thoracic cavity.

Yeah, that.
Someone wants

to get near a body, someone
needs to do their homework.

And yet someone got to go
to the crime scene today.

Jealousy ain't a good look, bro.
Me?

Jealous? Why would I be jealous
after working here for, like,

five years and only getting
to go to the crime scene from

time to time.

Danny merely drove me.

I have a license. I can drive.

Says the dude who's afraid
to make left turns.

You told him that?

Today, the crime scene,
tomorrow your job, Big Bird.

Okay, well,

first of all, I consider myself
more of a Beaker

than a Big Bird.
Second of all,

53.7% of all
accidents

involve left-hand turns,
so forgive me

for putting safety first.

Simmer down, Beaker,

there's plenty of work
for both my boys.

May I help you?

That Felix Armstrong?

And you would be?

A friend.

I'm sorry

for your loss,

but you can't be in here.

Oh, no, no, no,
see, it's cool.

I got this.

Now, it's a letter
from the family

giving me permission
to take the body.

I have yet
to conduct the autopsy.

And even once complete,

I can only release him
to next of kin.

Sir,

you have to leave.

Whoa.
Whoa, whoa.

Whoa, whoa.

All right.

Now, the only way
I'm leaving here...

is with that body.

I talked to the Navy,
got the bio on our Vic.

Petty Officer First
Class Felix Armstrong.

34 years and stationed at
Gitmo for the last three.

Tours in Iraq,
Afghanistan,

numerous commendations.
Red flags in his personal life?

I ran the cat's
financials, dumped

his phone.
Found two things:

jack and squat.

This dude
is Mr. Clean-clean.

Any idea what he was doing
in New Orleans?

Armstrong's out of Chi-town.
No obvious

connections
to the city.

Family knew nothing
at all about the trip.

Other passengers on his flight

said he kept to himself.

You hear from Loretta?

Called.
No answer.

She's probably
knee-deep in autopsy.

So, Navy man comes in

on a non-military
flight

to a city where
he has no business.

Yeah, no ties
at all.

Make that one tie.
Spoke to the airport policeman.

Said he was approached

by a friend of Armstrong's.
His name's

Philip Culliver. He was there
to pick Armstrong up.

Went to contact the victim's
family, never came back.

Okay. Follow up with the friend.

Meantime, I'll contact
Armstrong's commanding officer,

see if he can tell me
why Armstrong

was in town.
And hey, give it 15 minutes

and try Loretta again.

Want to find out
what's going on with that body.

Everyone, put your phones
on the table.

Do it now.

And you-- Slim.

You close all
those blinds

and lock
those doors.

You-- help him.

And you--

get that body in a bag.

Come on,
move, move, move.

Come on,
come on, come on.

Hey! What the hell
you doing, huh?

I'm-I'm just scratching.
I-I get hives in high-pressure

situations-- when it's fight
or flight, my brain

takes over, my body
starts to malfunction.

You should've seen me before
prom, it was a disaster.

Shut it.
Shutting.

You.

Quit mad dogging me, boy.

I'm not your boy.
Okay,

now everybody take it easy.

It's not the first time
I had a gun in my face.

It could be your last.

No, no, no.
Look, please, just listen to me.

None's gonna have
a last anything.

We are not
trying to stop you.

All right.

You put that body in a bag, put
him on a gurney, and I can go.

Okay, well, it's a little more
complicated than that.

I've got to file a C.O.D.
and a Form 15...

Don't stall me.

I'm not stalling,
I am just trying to help.

If you walk outside
without the proper paperwork,

the armed guards

at the exit
are gonna ask

questions,
and none of us

want those questions
answered with gunfire.

Write up my paperwork.

Go on. Do it now.

Armstrong was
unauthorized absence?

Yes, sir.
Went missing yesterday.

Any idea why he'd be on a
chartered flight to New Orleans?

Asking ourselves
the same damn question.

Petty Officer Armstrong
was a squared-away sailor.

Loyal to a fault.

What was Armstrong
working on at Gitmo?

Latest assignment
was a task force

taking down the Padilla Group.
Terrorist organization

operating out of Cuba.

Drug running, guns,
human trafficking.

You got a cause of death
there down there?

Yeah, we're still waiting.
But soon as we know anything,

you're our first call.

So his C.O. has no idea

why he went U.A.?

I just don't think we're
getting the whole story.

Something's funky.
With the friend, too.

No one in the city
by the name Philip Culliver.

And the phone number he gave
airport police doesn't exist.

Well, Patton's trying
to catch our mystery man

on airport
security cams.

I'm digging the new digs, Triple P.

This an office or trophy room?

Batting champ,
first-team

all state,
North Gwinnett High School.

I was fast, too.
I had wheels

before I had wheels.
Hey, All State,

you got anything for us?

Yeah. This is Armstrong's
mysterious

airport pickup gone missing.
Bruce any help?

Still working.

All right.
Well, keep us posted.

All right.
How about Loretta?

I called again.
Nothing.

Patch her in on the plasma.

You know, that's the third time
they've called.

If I don't pick up, they'll
know something's going on.

Fine.

You two. Over here.

Come on,
move it.

Now. Move!

Hey.

Now, you say anything
to tip them off--

anything at all--
and you got

two more autopsies you're gonna
have to do. You understand me?

Mm-hmm.

All right, go.

Hello, Dwayne.

Not taking my calls.
Something I said, Loretta?

Busy morning, that's all.

Just following up
on Armstrong.

Of course.

After further examination
of the petty officer,

my initial suspicions
are correct.

Cardiac arrest?

From Larrabee Syndrome.

A fatal spasm
of the coronary artery.

Investigation's open and shut
as far as I can tell.

Easy day for everyone
concerned, then.

Even planning a long lunch.

Contact Jefferson Parish
SWAT and EMTs.

We're headed to the morgue now.

Never heard
of Larrabee Syndrome.

'Cause it's not a syndrome.

Captain Adam Larrabee.

Case we worked on
before your time.

He died in a hostage standoff.

Give this
to the guard at the door.

Body's all yours.

You're coming with.

Collateral if anything
goes down.

You help me get this body to
my van... and I'll let you go.

Now, wait a minute, there's no
need to take her, all right?

Waiting time's over.

You hear me?
Now, you two.

One the ground, face down.

Count to 1,000.
Hell I will.

Danny, just do as he says.

All right, come on.

Move it.

Smooth and easy.

He's going crazy. I was like,
"Man, I'm out of here."

Yeah, fear for your life.

I know, exactly.
Mm-hmm.

Morning, Dr. Wade.
I'll see you later.

You done with
autopsy already?

What can I say?
Open and shut.

Uh-huh.
Who's this?

His family.

You sure
everything's all right?

Oh, fine, Darrel.

Back off, rent-a-cop.
Hey...

Hey.
We're walking out of here.

You hear me?

All right,
easy, guy.

Just relax, now.

Just... Hey.
Oh! Oh.

Come on, back to the
room now! Move, move!

Anyone comes in here,

and everybody dies!

Danny.

Danny.

Darrel, what happened?

The guy in there with a gun,

he clipped me. We got him.
Go, guys, go.

He took hostages.
They're in Autopsy.

Doc Wade
and who else?

Oh... Sebastian.
And the kid.

- Danny's in there.
- I heard his gun go off.

Anyone get hit?

Oh, I couldn't see inside the room.
All right,

look, I need you to
tell Agent Brody

everything you saw.

All right?

Chris,

interface with JPSO.
Set up a perimeter.

I'll see if I can
make contact with the gunman.

All right, let's go.
Let's move! Move!

Come on, go, go, go!

I wasn't trying to shoot.
I swear to God.

It's all right, Danny.

Just breathe in easy.

It wasn't supposed
to happen like this.

None of it.

Doc?
Shh, shh, shh.

Don't talk. He needs
to get to a hospital.

And I need to think.

You hear me?
I need to think!

What do we, uh...
what do we do for Danny?

Get me some gauze
from the cabinet.

Hey!

I didn't say you could move.

No, but if he
doesn't receive

medical attention, he will die,
making you a murderer.

Doesn't seem like
that's why you came here.

Just quiet!

I'm a doctor!

I can help him
if you just let me.

Uh...

I don't mean
to clutter your thinking,

but I'm pretty sure that
standard operating procedure,

if you don't make some sort
of contact is to, you know,

storm the site.
I'm just...

I'm providing you
with the facts.

What?

Hear there's a situation
in there.

I'm Dwayne Pride,
negotiator for the Navy.

What's your name?

Doesn't matter.

Matters to me.

I want to understand
what's going on,

see if I can help.

Maybe you feel like
you're standing on a ledge.

Maybe things got
out of control,

but if you'll
just talk to me,

I can pull you back.

First thing, I need to know
if anyone's been injured.

Stupid kid. Went for my gun.

Kid? Name's Danny.

How about my other two people--
Loretta and Sebastian?

Listen, I'm sure
you didn't mean to hurt Danny,

but if he's been shot,
we got to get him some help.

I don't want to see anyone else
get hurt, including you.

Nice story,

but I ain't buying your lies.

You're just like
the rest of 'em.

Rest of who?

All right, look,
how about this?

Why don't you tell me
what you want

so we can both
figure our way out of this?

What I want--

no more calls,
no more in,

no more out.

No more contact.

I see anyone,
anyone, come at me,

and I promise,
gonna need a lot more body bags!

Okay...

Jake.

Glad you're here.

JPSO's always
got your back, Dwayne.

What's the word?

Danny's been shot.

Don't know how bad.

Gunman doesn't seem to have
any kind of a plan.

No demands. Not talking.
Where you at?

All exits are covered.

Snipers are on the rooftops.

Monitoring phone lines,
disabling the Internet.

Oh, blueprint of the morgue.

Autopsy's in the back hallway.

We need to talk
entry scenarios.

No, we're not there yet, Jake.

Our friends--

they're inside there.

Understand that, and want
to get them out safe and sound,

but given
this guy's not talking...

We're gonna get him to talk.

At the moment,
it's your boat, Pride.

Just tell me where to row.

How many guys
you got on the roof?

Got three on
the east side...

Got a description of the gunman.

African-American,
black hat, striped shirt.

Friend from the airport?

- One in the same.
- Okay.

Well, Patton's still
running facial recognition.

Hopefully, he'll be able to tell
us who the hell this guy is.

One more thing-- Darrel said

the gunman was trying to leave
with Armstrong's body.

Gauze, Sebastian.

What's wrong?

It's my wrist. I must have
sprained it when I fell.

Damn it!
Hemothorax.

His lungs are filling
with blood.

I need a scalpel, uh, iodine,

a Kelly clamp
and a length of tubing.

Think you're doing
with that blade, Slim?

Drop it!
Oh, uh,

I can see how this
might seem untoward.

Now! And you--
on your feet, lady.

I need your help.

We need that scalpel
to insert a chest tube

which will drain the blood
from his lungs.

Otherwise,
Danny stops breathing.

Actually, we need to
get him on a table.

It don't sound like my problem.

Son, it really is your problem.

You need my help,

but this boy needs it more.

Now, we have
to trust each other.

You just let me
take care of Danny,

and then, I will do
whatever you want.

Otherwise,

you might as well
pull that trigger.

What are you waiting for?

So, this, uh...

this whole surgery thing--
how you gonna do it?

Not me.

You.

We're live
at the Jefferson Parish Morgue

where a hostage situation
is unfolding.

Well, you have him contact
me as soon as you find him.

Trying to get in touch with
Armstrong's commanding officer,

see if he has any insight

into what's so important
about Armstrong's body.

Might have good news here.

Found an unattended van in the
parking lot behind the morgue.

Reported stolen
earlier today.

Could belong to our guy.

Prints?
No, but I found

this laptop inside,
password protected.

Got to make that my bitch then.

Meantime...

I couldn't get
a make on the gunman,

but I do know who he was trying
to call as he left the airport.

You got his phone?

Yeah, right off his shades.
Check it out.

See the reflection?

He's dialing a number.

Belongs to a Dr. Timothy Yeltin.

Got an addy, t.

All right, Chris,
Brody, you go check it out.

No, I want to stay here.
So do I.

Look, unless we know who he is

and what he wants,
we can't talk him down.

Answers are out there.

Need you two to find 'em.

We'll be in contact.

All right.

Good. Now to find
the seventh intercostal space.

Here.

Okay, now for
the one-inch incision.

Sebastian, it's all
in your head.

Its-it's pretty loud
in there right now.

I don't really feel like
I'm in control here.

You are.

What about the
guy with the gun?

Block him out. I need
for you to be a hero today.

I'm not. I'm the sidekick.

What's taking so long?

Sebastian,

under the talk,
the neuroses, the hives...

is a hero.

I saw it the first day
you walked into that lab.

Now cut!

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry.

I'm trying to save your life.

Aah!

All right.

Now, keep going until
you hear a popping sound.

And that's-that's good?
Yeah, yeah.

It means
that you're inside the chest.

It will allow for the...
pressure to be relieved.

Ow! Ooh!

All right, now,
uh, Mr. Tube here.

Danny? Danny,
look at me, look at me.

- Breathe slowly now.
- Just slow, slow.

There. Okay.

Some good you are.

In all my time dealing,
I never got shot.

Then I start
working for you...

Okay, just quiet.
Quiet, sweetie.

Look, if I don't make
it, you got to tell...

Oh, no, no, you're gonna
be fine, gonna be fine.

But if I'm not...
No. No, just stop.

You got to tell CJ...
Stop.

Stop. You're gonna be just fine.

There's two of them.

Him and his little brother CJ--
nine years old.

You have any siblings?

Just finish up.

Looks like the good
Dr. Yeltin doesn't believe

in good housekeeping.

NCIS!

Doesn't sound like
anyone's home.

Then again...
Ready?

Okay!

Get your hands in the air!
Let me see your hands!

Get your ass on the ground!

Now!
Belly flat!

Get on the ground!

Aah!

Ah, not again.

Hey.

You got it.
You hear that music?

No, no, nyet.

Is anybody else in the house?

Is anybody else
in the house?!

I'll check it out.

♪ ♪

What the...

♪ ♪

What the hell
you been up to, Doc?

No talk.

No talk. America.
Rights. Da?

Well, what about the rights
of that girl you murdered?

No talk! No talk!

NOPD's on the way.
You tell 'em to bring a translator?

'Cause I can't understand a word
Baryshnikov here is saying.

Rosetta Stone. I was gonna
take a semester in Moscow,

but it's too cold.

Why I should talk to you?

Because you're facing the
death penalty if you don't.

How do you say
"lethal injection"?

Uh, Rosetta Stone doesn't

really cover stuff like that.

I-I cut.

Uh... girl was, uh...

How do you say? Uh, donkey.

Donkey? Mule? Drug mule?

Da.

What does he have
to do with that dead girl?

Marcus Martel?

That's his name?
Da.

Nothing to do with girl.

Said he had body for me to cut.

We got the connection between
Martel and this Dr. Yeltin?

They used to be colleagues.

Both worked for a Colombian
drug cartel-- El Hacha.

Haven't ID'd the girl,

but NOPD's on it, gonna keep us
apprised of where they are.

Doctor said Martel was a
low-level dealer for the cartel.

Then, one day,
he just left the game.

Last doctor heard, he was
on the straight and narrow.

Apparently, not
straight enough.

Doctor say what was
inside Armstrong's body?

Didn't know.
Martel hadn't told him.

But if Armstrong was working
on that task force,

taking down
a smuggling operation...

He'd have access
to all kinds of contraband.

Coke, heroin.

And maybe Armstrong was using

Martel's old connects
to move it.

Yeah, still, just a theory.
Pride?

All right, Martel's
got an address

near the Industrial Canal.
3434 Congress Street.

Go. See what you can learn.

We're on it, King.

Pulse is thready,
but constant.

He's holding for now.
That makes one of us.

Well, we've done
all we can.

Danny still needs to
get to the hospital.

And he will...

soon as you live up
to your end of the bargain.

Something inside him I need.

I'm sorry.
Um, inside?

Wax in your ears, Slim?

No, I'm just... I'm assuming
that it's now my job

to find this... thing,
and surprise, surprise.

It's my maiden autopsy voyage.

You'll know when you see it.

Just do a Y-incision like
you've seen me do before.

Shoulder to shoulder?

Yes, then down the midline
to the base of the pubic bone.

And make it...
Fast? Yeah, I know.

But contrary to my wildest
dreams, I'm not Han Solo,

this is not a lightsaber,

and Mr. Armstrong
is not a Tauntaun.

Now I can make this fast,
potentially destroying

whatever this thing is
that you're looking for,

or I can be meticulous,
which will take more time,

but it will get you
what you want.

I can't do both,
so, what's it gonna be, chief?

Just get me what I want.

Clear.

It's like a vampire
lives in here.

Dude likes his privacy.

Look at this.

There's Martel, Armstrong.

Who's the third guy?

Your brother.

This is about him, right?

When I mentioned Danny's
brother CJ, you reacted.

You're wrong.

I don't think I am.
Okay.

Feeling a little overwhelmed here.
Okay, now just run

the gut, dear.
Put pressure on the intestine

and pull it
between your fingers.

Does this remind anyone else

of those Hammerpedes
from Prometheus?

Yeah.

Sorry. That movie
was a real letdown.

Look, sir,
I can see you working very hard

to present yourself
as some sort of monster,

but it doesn't strike me
as real.

You don't know a thing about me.

Or my brother.

No, but...

I imagine you would like
to see him again.

Yeah.

I would.

That ain't gonna happen.

Martel's brother is dead.

Name was Nathan.

Martel's only family.

He was a SEAL.

He was killed ten months ago.

Combat?

Details are classified.

I'm in the process
of getting read in.

Any word from inside?
Radio silence.

Okay, I got around
Martel's laptop Crack Sniffer.

What?
No, it's not what you're thinking.

It's a program
that sniffs you out

and locks you out the second
you try to crack in.

And he hit the
mother lode.

Okay, look. I went
through Martel's e-mails.

I found dozens of requests
to the Navy asking

for the classified story
about his brother's death.

And then there's this
big ol' angry manifesto.

And on the end...

"Because you won't release
the truth about Nate,

I'm releasing everything
I've gotten my hands on"?

Well, is there any proof
he's really got something?

There it is.

Is that a flash drive?

What's on that?

Payback.

What is this?

Captain Dawson.

You're a hard man
to get

ahold of.
Dealing with the cluster

on my end, Pride.

I'd like you to meet

FBI SWAT Team
Leader Marie Cutter.

FBI? Look.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Look.

We just learned the identity
of the gunman

and why he's doing this.

We think we can talk him down.

We just need a little more time.
And your work's

much appreciated,
but time's up.

FBI's taking over.

Dawson, come on.
You duck my calls,

leave me in the dark,
and then within ten seconds

of showing up, you're gonna
instigate a firefight?

Two days ago, Petty Officer
Armstrong downloaded thousands

of classified documents
onto a flash drive.

Troop movements,

weapon capabilities,
undercover assets.

Not quite Snowden but approaching.
Son of bitch

swallowed the drive to sneak out
of our secure facilities,

which is why we got
to get in.

We're talking national security
here, Pride.

Well, what about the security
of my people?

The needs of the many
outweigh the needs of the few.

Sorry, Pride.

Went over the blueprint.

No surprises to us.

Autopsy's in back.
Only one way in and out.

Tactical goes in there,
it's gonna be a turkey shoot.

And protocol says wait until
there's an imminent threat.

Guess those documents fit
their bill.

Let me ask you this.

Is there any chance

that the file
on his brother's death,

the one Martel requested,

is on the flash drive
that Armstrong smuggled in?

Probably not.

Didn't have any access.

But we do.

How long
would it take you

to get me that file?

15 minutes, give or take.

All right. You got five.

Five?!

Pride.

King.

What the hell you gonna do?

What the...?

Pride!
Pride! Get your ass back here!

Can't do that!

Ordering you

to stand down!

Give me five minutes!

Then the show is all yours!

Damn it.

Agent Pride has breached
the building.

All units,
hold positions.

Uh, not sure
what your plan is

since disabling the Internet
is Hostage Protocol 101.

You can't put those files
online.

Can when this thing accesses
an offsite hot spot.

Tether it to your computer,

and you're in business.

No.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!

He encrypted this! Why the hell
would Armstrong do that?!

It's a smart way to control
how the files are disseminated.

Damn it!

Marcus Martel?

I'm Dwayne Pride.

One who talked to you
on the phone before.

I told you not
to come in here!

I'm unarmed.

Here to help.

You got three seconds!

Three seconds to leave
or someone dies!

Marcus, FBI's outside
this building.

I'm the only reason they're not
storming in here right now.

Here to save
your life, son.

Life don't need saving.

Then tell me what you do need.

An encryption specialist!

Get one
in here now!

FBI's not gonna let that happen.

Besides,
I don't think

you really care
about those files you stole.

The one you... need,

the one you want,

truth about your brother.
All you got to do is let me in.

Keep your hands up.

Inside. Move. Now.

How is he?
He's lost

a liter of blood.

You got the file on my brother?

I do.

And I'll show it to you.

But you got to let us

take Danny out,

get him the attention he needs.

Yeah.

And what about
what Nathan needed?

Hmm?

He goes off

and he dies for his country,

and they won't tell me nothing
about what happened to him.

He was my best friend.

The only one
who ever believed in me.

Nate.

Little Nate
with the... bright eyes

and the... crazy smile.

A smile I will never see again.

We understand, Marcus.

You don't.

And you can't.

I can.

What you want,

the how and the why

of a loved one's death, that's
what we do here. For instance,

your friend,
Petty Officer Armstrong...

Just stop.

When we opened him up,

I saw his
enlarged heart.

Considering
he was using dalteparin,

I'm guessing
he died of cardiac arrest

brought on by the stress
of what you two were doing.

You saying it's my fault?
I'm saying

one man's perished for this.

Let's not make it two.

Think of
Danny's brother.

You want to take from him
what was taken from you?

I need some help!

Get that ambulance over here!
Now!

- Easy, easy.
- Watch it.

What do we got?
Single gunshot. Small caliber bullet.

It's lodged in his
upper thoracic region.

Here we go.

Let's get him in.
Come on, come on, come on!

One, two... You-you
can't come with us!

I'm tired of people telling me
what I can't do today.

I'm staying with him till I know
he's all right. Come on.

Sebastian, Pride and Wade?

They're both fine, but
it's still pretty touch and go.

Marcus.

I don't understand.

Your brother
was killed

by the
Al-Majid Front.

Rebels who were...

working secretly
with our government.

Al-Majid was supposed
to help our SEALs

take down
a Syrian government official.

Instead...

they turned on 'em.

All these lies...

Someone has to pay for this,
right?

Marcus, the FBI's about
to come through that door.

I know.

Then are you ready to end this?

Easy, easy!
Situation's under control!

Nobody's dying here today!

Thank you very much,
Agent.

- Appreciate all your help.
- No problem.

Captain.

We've got
some unresolved business.

I should say so.

The business
of divulging state secrets.

I was protecting my people.
Not good practice.

Neither was the handling
of Nathan Martel's death.

Department of Defense makes
that decision, not the Navy.

And now thanks to you,
Marcus Martel can tell that

to anyone who'll listen.

One document
as opposed to thousands.

And maybe saved a few lives.

I'm sure there'll be a hearing
to debate whether or not

what I did was right...

...but there's no debate
to this.

That man's brother,
Nathan Martel,

deserves a Bronze Star.

Not my call to make, Pride.
Find someone

who can.

d died a hero.

Deserves to be remembered
that way.

♪ Carry me ♪

♪ For a while ♪

♪ It's your turn ♪

♪ To lend ♪

♪ A hand ♪

♪ Carry you ♪

♪ For a while... ♪

Lasalle and Brody
went to get CJ.

Any updates?

Uh, he's stable.

The doctors will come back
and check on him in an hour.

Okay.

Tough kid.

He'll be okay.

Yeah.

Heard Sebastian dug deep today.

He did indeed.

Sidekick no longer.

He's been my silver lining
in an otherwise cloudy day.

How you holding up?

Me? Oh.

This is nothing.

I'm not talking about that.

I'm fine, Dwayne.

Loretta...

No, I'm-I'm okay.

I'm okay.

I'm okay.

You are now.

You are now.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man