NCIS: New Orleans (2014–…): Season 2, Episode 2 - Shadow Unit - full transcript

♪ ♪

♪ Hey, everyone ♪

♪ Gotta keep on marching on ♪

♪ Well, hey, hey, hey,
everyone ♪

♪ Gotta keep on marching on
and on and on... ♪

♪ ♪

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 2x02 ♪
Shadow Unit
Original Air Date on September 29, 2015

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ How, how, how, how ♪



♪ Hey, hey ♪

♪ You gotta come on. ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Smooth motions.

Keep a rhythm.

Get Pride bought a bar,

working out a new
phase in his life;

I also get chipping in
before work,

help him set the place up--
but what I don't get

is why I'm
the only one laboring.

Uh,
I'm in recovery.

Remember? 'Cause
Pride shot me?

You don't watch it,
I'm gonna shoot you next.

So, uh,
what's your excuse, Merri?



I know it may look
like I'm slacking,

but we've got you doing
advanced field training.

Testing my carpentry skills?

Nope. Multitasking.

If I tell you
I went to the MCRD

to see the RTB
to meet the SDI...

You'd go to
the Marine Corps Depot

to the Recruit
Training Battalion

to see the Senior
Drill Instructor.

Marine captain enters
a Navy captain's berth

on a ship.
Who salutes first?

Typically, Marine
salutes sailor--

Navy captain has rank--
but in this case,

no one salutes...

because they're indoors.

Poof.

Goat locker.

What is it?

The, uh...

goat locker...

is where you store...

your goats.

Chief petty
officer's galley

and sleeping area

on a ship.

Terminology may not
matter in the ATF,

but it's the lifeblood
of the Navy.

I get it.

For instance, uh,

what's the term
for this new lady

you've been seeing?
I know a lot of ladies.

Uh, you brought in your
nice jacket yesterday.

The Commander's Palace jacket.

Oh.
That's his big third-date move.

Well, the move was
clearly successful,

because, um...

I can still smell
her perfume.

She's classy.

Creed Royal.
She's a professional.

Doctor?
Lawyer.

Banker, if you must know.

Mm. - Mm.
And it was a first date.

Beer and crawfish don't work
on these white-collar types.

Oh.
And as much as I'm enjoying

you snooping
into my personal life,

it's a text from King.

Body at Monteleone.

Get our game face on.

Victim's name was Jonah Penn.

Couple of conventioneers
spotted him

on his balcony this morning,
thought he was passed out.

Called hotel security.
Place is a mess.

Penn some kind
of sailor on leave?

Blogger from Pittsburgh.

Why call us?

Follow me.

Top secret Navy documents--
the real deal.

Or at least they were.
Gone now.

Whoa. What's a blogger

from Pittsburgh doing
with Navy documents?

I'll call Intel, get into it.

Maintenance had to break in
this morning.

According to hotel records...

Penn's key card was the only one

used to enter this room

in the last couple of days.

Door was bolted from the inside.

No other access point
to the room.

How'd the suspect
get in?

NOPD found traces of
high-density nylon rope on the roof.

That joker rappelled down?

It would explain

the vertical trajectory
of the entry wounds.

He was shot three times
from above.

Some ninja moves!
No one saw?

Avoided every witness
and surveillance camera

in the hotel.

Three shots
to the chest.

Tight grouping--
looks professional.

Maybe professional;
far from impersonal.

The killer cut out Penn's
tongue, postmortem...

...placed it in his palm.

I'll bet you never saw
a tongue-ectomy in ATF.

There's got to be
some Intel missing,

'cause I got a...
an empty top secret jacket.

I appreciate that.

I appreciate that, Admiral.

'Cause I have a lot
of questions.

Making house calls now?

Yeah, I had to come see you
right away.

I know your dead guy,
Jonah Penn.

What?
Well, not know in the

conventional sense
of having a relationship

or personal interaction
or any sort of history.

What other sense is there?

Well, we were
virtual acquaintances.

In the Skep-Con community.

It's skeptics
and conspiracy theorists.

Penn was a superstar.

He exposed corruption
and cover-ups

all over the government.
You were in contact with him?

Well, no, but he blogged that he was
going on the road for some big story.

He bragged that he was
gonna blow the lid off of...

the “twisted psyche of
the American military machine.”

He had a flair
for the dramatic.

You're thinking this story had
something to do with the Navy?

Well...
So, I ran ballistics

on the slugs that Loretta pulled
from Penn's body.

Nine-millimeter, 147-grain

NATO rounds.

Subsonic, laced
with depleted uranium.

Sound-suppressing,
armor-piercing.

Military.
I traced the bullets

back to a batch that
the Navy requisitioned

for a special mission
code-named Operation Sawback.

What's Operation Sawback?

I have no idea.

It's compartmented way above
my clearance-- which is not

very high, and actually
I've been meaning to talk

to you about that.
Sebastian.

But I did find out
the name

of the unit involved.

Shadow Unit.

Navy SEALs.

Your murderer is among

one of the best-trained killers
in the world.

Jonah Penn was murdered
with bullets

designated
for a Navy SEAL team--

Shadow Unit--
in a mission called Sawback.

There's a good chance

our suspect is a SEAL.

Got to be careful.
And move fast.

Navy better cooperate. They won't
even admit documents are missing.

What more do we know
about our reporter, Penn?

Freelance journalist in town
working on his story.

Got any line on his story?
He was tight-lipped.

Protecting his “get.” Family
and friends didn't even know

he was in New Orleans.
What'd you get off Penn's laptop?

Nothing. Wiped clean.

Wrong, wrong.
So damn wrong.

I assure you,
no one wiped anything clean.

That's-that's not even a thing.

There's not even an
e-mail on this laptop.

Yeah, well, we live
in the age of the NSA.

We got eavesdropping,

anonymous hackers...

let's face it, people like me

who sneak on your computer
without you even knowing.

So he changed his computer out?

As much as he changes
his T-shirts.

He keeps his files
in a cloud.

Can you retrieve
anything?

I'm a little hurt
you even doubt it.

Loretta.

You and me.
Chris, SEAL team

Shadow Unit is stationed
out of Stennis Space Center.

Take Percy.

You got it, King.

So, about SEALs.

Sea, Air, Land.
Already know.

That's about as much
as they'll let you know.

They don't talk easy and
they don't trust outsiders.

Look...

I spent my entire career

earning the trust
of gunrunners and biker gangs.

I got my ways.

SEALs operate at a higher
level of distrust.

Sort of like Fight Club.
Oh, like,

“First rule of SEALs,
don't talk about SEALs”?

I'm just preparing you.

It's gonna take a little
more than your “way”"

to open 'em up.

War...
War...

Eagle! Hey!
Eagle! Hey!

Why didn't you tell me

the newbie's
a fellow Tiger?

I'm just finding out
about it myself.

He's from 'Bama.
Roll Tide.

You know, my time at Auburn
really defined my character.

Made me who I am today.

So, Operation Sawback?

Happy to read you in.

Especially since
it's declassified.

And since you're
a fellow Tiger,

I can save you the trouble
of reading a 3,000-page file.

Appreciate that.

First off,
it wasn't our op.

CIA mission.

They oversaw;
we provided support.

Sawback was strictly
humanitarian.

There we go.

Ejército Del Pueblo.

Army of the People.

Paramilitary group in Bolivia,
a place called San Martel.

Muscle for the drug lords.

Rooting out resistance

and terrorize the locals.
Sent in

a small team of SEALs,
Shadow Unit.

Dropped in,
protected the locals,

dismantled the PA--
rousing success.

If it was such a success,
why was Jonah Penn

so interested in it?

Penn was a bottom-feeder,
always looking

for negative spin.
Bad blood?

I spend my days surrounded by
the enemy in hostile territory.

It takes more than bad press
to hurt my feelings.

There's a big old “but” coming.
But...

there's not
a single sailor or Marine

whose safety
wasn't compromised by Penn

and the lies he printed
over the years.

Which could explain
why three rounds of ammo

slated for Sawback
ended up in Penn's chest.

Are you suggesting
one of my men was involved?

I'm suggesting

that you give us the identity
of every member of Shadow Unit

and their last known
whereabouts.

The methodology of this murder
is cold, professional.

Removal of the victim's
tongue was surgical.

Killer took care,

like he'd practiced
this before.

What can you tell
us about the knife?

Sharp. Non-serrated.
That's about all.

However,

judging by the inflammation
of Mr. Penn's stomach lining,

I can say that
he suffered from ulcers.

There was
scar tissue

and several gastrinoma.

Someone who suffers

from this severe a condition

would be prescribed
a very bland diet.

Yet this is what I
found in his stomach.

Fatty beef,
chorizo sausage, lard,

locoto peppers.

South American food.

Bolivian, to be exact.

Operation Sawback
took place in Bolivia.

Sebastian pulled Mr. Penn's

room service charges.
Oatmeal,

grilled salmon,
skinless chicken.

He was not eating spicy
at the hotel.

Where he got the food
could lead us

to what track
he was on for his story.

So I count

three straight-up
Bolivian places.

I'll e-mail you the list.

Thanks.
Personal favor?

These have been
mailed to me anonymously.

Does that make you the Jackal?

Nickname in high school.
Long story.

Mine was Mr. Butternut.

Also... long story.

Looks like you
had fun back then.

Yeah, only I wasn't in

the original version
of these photos.

I think someone altered them.

Well, the inpainting is perfect.

Seam carving, too.

Are you...

sure this isn't you?

These are all
my sister's friends.

The one who passed away.

They added me in her place,
after she died.

Is there any way you can
track where these came from?

Yeah. No, I'm-I'm happy
to take a look.

Thank you.
Oh, actually, you know what,

I also have a
bit of a favor.

Shoot.

I heard what the
SEALs said about Penn,

about how he
falsified sources

and it got him fired,
but that's not the truth.

Penn quit the newspaper when
they tried to edit a story

that he was writing.
He had integrity.

Penn was important to you.

Yeah, a while ago, he-he wrote
about these contractors in Iraq

who were taking kickbacks.
Took him two years to

singlehandedly trace the scandal
back to several congressmen.

He saw a conspiracy when
everyone else turned away.

Penn had a voice.

Let's find out
what he wanted to say.

This man-- his name
is Penn? I don't know,

maybe he came in, maybe not,
we have a lot of customers.

Yeah, well,

not many came in for lunch
three days in a row this week.

He must have liked my cooking.
Your name's Edgar Baco.

This is your place. I spoke
with two of your waitresses,

they both confirmed
that Penn

came in to see you.

And now he's dead.

Soon I will be, too.

Because... death
is following me

all the way from
San Martel, Bolivia.

That why Penn came to see you?

He was curious about the tragedy
of San Martel.

You are, too?

I know about what the
People's Army did to your town.

Well, the PA demanded money
for protection from the cartels.

The very men they worked for.

Our lives were worthless.

Until the U.S. military
intervened.

Yes, the
Americans came.

They told us we had nothing
left to worry about.

The PA would be stopped.

That turned out to be a lie.

A man came early in the morning.

He rounded up
seven of our leaders

and accused them of cooperating
with the enemy.

He shot them,
cut out their tongues.

One of the People's Army.

No.

He was one of yours.

Sent to protect us.

The rumor was that
the PA paid him off.

To send a message.

To remind us that we would
never be safe again.

I-I left, I...
came here.

Where good people like you

are still outraged by
the savagery of the world.

Is there anyone else
who can confirm your story?

Sí.

Travis Dalton.

Speak to him.

He'll tell you.

I've been managing director
of The Westmar Relief Group

now for, uh, about three years.

We provide food,
medicine, support

to Latin Americans hardest
hit by war and poverty.

People like Edgar Baco?

We brought Edgar
back from Bolivia.

Helped set him up
his restaurant.

The American dream.

After San Martel?

The Navy send you?

Nobody sends me, Mr. Dalton.

I'm here investigating
the murder of Jonah Penn.

Penn was working on a story.

We think he was killed

because what
he was writing about

had to do with a military
operation in San Martel.

Well, some stories are just
too dangerous to tell.

Like the execution of seven men?

By someone
on your people's payroll.

You got proof of that?

Here's your proof.

It's what Jonah Penn
was writing about.

There.

The money shot.

Check the insignia.

SEALs.

You show these photos to the Navy?
I just got 'em.

From Jonah Penn.

He brought these to me
last week,

asked me to tell him what I saw.

And where did Penn
get the photos?

Wouldn't tell me.

And even if he did,
I wouldn't tell you.

Talking about this...

could make me

your killer's next victim.

Now, if what Baco
and Dalton say is true,

we're not just investigating
a murder anymore.

Yeah, it's a war crime.

No, go ahead
and respond.

Shouldn't let
the banker girl wait.

She's a banker lady.
And I'm good.

“Good” like
she gets a second date

or “good” like it's over?
Can we focus here?

- I don't know, can we?
- Okay,

of the six active duty SEALs

billeted to Shadow Unit,
four are deployed overseas.

One has been
in wilderness

survival training
for the past 72 hours.

And the last member?
Petty Officer

Wyatt Granier. Recently
put into treatment for showing

signs of depression
and instability.

Lives on the Westbank.
Got a bolo out. Let's find him.

The cellular customer
you are trying to reach

is unavailable. Please leave
a message after the beep.

Hey, it's me.

Have you heard from Penn?

'Cause I'm supposed to meet him
and he's still not here.

I'm freaked.

I'm out of here.

NOPD patrol spotted
the car a few hours ago.

Engine's still on,

who knows how long.
Loretta?

Granier was shot from behind.

The same tight grouping
of the wounds.

The same surgical care

with the postmortem

removal
of the tongue.

And again...

the killer takes the term

“hold your tongue”
literally.

Guessing when you pull
the slugs out of the dash,

the bullets'll match
the ones used to kill Penn.

It's an elaborate choreography.

It takes time
and consideration.

Someone murdered Penn

to stop him from writing
about Operation Sawback.

Cut out his tongue as a warning.

Granier was part of Sawback.

You think he was

cooperating with Penn's story

and that's what got him
killed the same way?

Hey, found this cell nearby.

Could be Granier's, but someone
took the SIM card.

NOPD canvassed
the area,

pulled surveillance video.
No sign of the suspect.

Probably ninja'd his way
out of this one, too.

Climbed a wall,
jumped the roof.

Maybe's he's got
the cloak of invisibility.

We know this much--

he can't levitate.
Shoe scuffs.

Must have been
riding in the trunk,

waiting for the right moment.

Not easy to sneak
up on a SEAL.

Suspect
had access

to the back seat
through the trunk.

In and out without a trace.

Actually, guys,
this time...

he left something behind.

Got a DNA hit

on the hair.
It belongs

to Chief Petty Officer
Ryan Jansen,

another Navy SEAL
in Shadow Unit.

Thought he was
already accounted for.

Survival training,
Pearl River.

That's what the SEALs
thought, too.

Turns out Jansen was on
solo survival training.

Commander Salter
radioed him

to return to base,
got no response.

He could have slipped away,
no one would have even noticed.

Plenty of time to come back
here, kill Penn and Granier.

Aw, yeah!
Don't mind me,

I had to resupply.

Check it out.

I got my kale, my carrots,
my B3, my agave.

I got my

bacon chili cheeseburger deluxe.

That's my Triple P
cranial laxative.

Any closer to getting
Penn's digital files?

Like I told you--

Penn's a guy
who's written about the NSA,

the FBI, the IRS and all other
alphabet agencies that

make men tremble.
So you can't get in.

Dude, his encryptions
got encryptions.

But once that agave
and this saturated fat

lubricates the thinkanator--
oh, I'll get there.

I always do.

Excuse you.

Thank you.

Back to Jansen, what do we know?

Highly decorated.
Spent a year at NAB

Coronado teaching
knife combat, but

he's a five-tool player.
Two Silver Stars

for bravery in Afghanistan,

married his
high school sweetheart,

- teaches Sunday school.
- Whoa, what does that mean?

My Sunday school teacher
was terrifying.

Look, we need to bring Jansen
in before anyone else gets hurt.

I'll reach out to
Edgar Baco and Travis Dalton.

They were both
sources of Penn's story,

could be in danger.

Brody, you're with me.
Let's go learn things

about the man
behind the SEAL.

I've known my husband
since we were 14 years old.

The moment I laid
eyes on him,

I knew he would be the best man

I'd ever meet.

Now you're telling me
he's some kind of criminal?

Do you know where he is,
Mrs. Jansen?

I never know where Ryan is.

My husband's job

is classified.

Found this in a drawer.

He left it for a reason.

So we couldn't track him.

Checked the call log.
Last one is from Granier.

Wyatt Granier?

They're friends.

You should ask Wyatt about Ryan.
He'll tell you.

Wyatt Granier was murdered.

Listen, we understand you're
trying to protect your husband,

but something is wrong here.
You see this, yes?

What are you suggesting he did?

We're just looking
for the truth.

We get that by
finding Ryan.

If you know of anything, please,

before Ryan
or anyone else gets hurt.

I never know where Ryan is
when he's deployed.

He could be gone
for weeks, months.

But whenever he goes away,
he sends me one of these.

They're
all blank.

A simple way to
tell me he's okay.

This one came this morning.

Kisatchie
National Park.

Park ranger said
Jansen came in yesterday,

got supplies,
and headed north.

Well, what's north?

Woods.
Great...

Mother Nature and I aren't
exactly on speaking terms.

Oh, don't worry, City Mouse.

I'll be glad to
make introductions.

Got ballistics back
on the slugs you pulled

from Petty Officer
Granier's chest.

Nine millimeter, subsonic.

Same rounds
that killed Penn.

Fired from the same weapon.
Not surprising.

Anything else?

Come on. Out with it.

Why does the system always win?

You know?

I mean,
this-this Skep-Con thing,

it's not an act.
I-I really believe

that there's a deeper meaning
in the world,

even if it's menacing,

that-that people can have
an effect,

you know,
reveal the truth.

I mean, we-we need skeptics,

people willing to dig deeper.

People like Penn.

Like you.

I will look
at Petty Officer Granier again,

see what else I find.

Meantime, I'll put

the photos from San Martel up

on the secure server.

Pick up where Penn left off.

Go.

Who's Dave?

Not a banker,
I'll tell you that.

Lady's got her secrets, huh?
A few.

More than a few,
I've learned.

I went poking.

You didn't go to Auburn.
You went to Tulane.

Yeah, but Tulane
wouldn't get me an in

with the Navy SEAL
commander.

Also wouldn't get
a rise out of you, so...

So, if you got secrets,

how come you givin' me a
hard time about who I date?

Look...

I'm just trying to make sure
you're taking care of yourself.

That mermaid of yours
was special,

and...

I know what it's like
to lose someone.

She's got a name. Savannah.

And you don't know anything about it.
Stop.

Oh, it's okay for you
to poke back, but...

No, I mean stop the truck.

I saw tire tracks back there

veering off the road.

License plate
matches Jansen's.

Chief Jansen.
Hands where we can see 'em.

We're NCIS.
You're coming with us.

On your knees.

I can't let this happen.

Why?

'Cause you're innocent?

Hardly.

Got a fugitive loose
in Kisatchie National Park.

He's a Navy SEAL wanted
in connection

with multiple murders. Gonna
need every deputy you can spare.

No. No, Christopher, hold tight
until the cavalry arrives.

Got park rangers and marshals
on the way.

Jansen got a head start.
We wait, he disappears.

You're a good hunter, Chris,
but you're not

100% right now,
and Jansen's in his element.

We already went a few rounds
with him, King.

We know what we're up against,
all right?

King, tell me there's a better
chance of catching Jansen.

Just be careful.
Of course.

We don't want to mangle up
the new girl

on her first big manhunt.

Good news is, he
didn't try to kill us,

which I guess is your job.

When you get back,

I'll let you shoot me
so we're even.

I'll look forward to it.

Mangled, huh?

State police are
sending 30 troopers now.

Won't be enough.

No matter how many men you send.
Mrs. Jansen,

you should be at home.

I can't sit around anymore.

Not with strangers
at my house.

They're MPs.

Waiting to catch my husband.

Which is a waste of time.

He's not coming back.
Not voluntarily.

Not at all.

Heard those MPs talking
at my house,

calling my husband
a mass murderer.

He won't stand
for that.

And I don't
blame him.

Mrs. Jansen, that's not what...
You don't understand.

Ryan believes in honor.

To a fault.

He won't be dragged in
on these ridiculous accusations.

He'll die first.

Please,

don't let my husband get killed
out there.

While you were hunting SEALs,

I reexamined Petty
Officer Granier.

I found these skin
cells on his wrist.

I assumed they were his,

but analyzed them
just to make sure.

They're not Granier's.

Could be the killer's.
You get DNA?

There's no match in CODIS,
no match to Jansen.

So Jansen didn't
kill Granier.

Which means he likely...
didn't kill Penn.

Oh, my gosh, guys, you're
never gonna believe this.

All right. Slowing down.

Breathing. Pausing.

Explaining.

The photos of the massacre
are faked.

- Faked?
- You're sure?

Positive.
Photography's become

a recent interest of mine,
and I had a bit of an insight.

So I blew up the photo to see
if I could make out any details,

and when I did...
Well, here, look--

tell me what you see here.

Image is distorted.
Right, it's called

aberration--
it's the failure of the lens

to produce a true image.

The way the light hits,
everything's just blurry.

Everything except...

our Navy SEAL.
Look at this--

you can make out
all the details of his insignia,

of his weapon...

He was clearly placed in

- after the fact.
- Making it seem

as if a SEAL was responsible.

Yeah. I bet you anything
that Penn realized

that this photo was fake...
and he got killed

pursuing whatever it is that
really happened in San Martel.

I'm gonna to go help Patton
get into Penn's files.

What the hell is Jansen up to?

You know, you're wrong.

About me not getting it.

I've had loss.

Maybe not what happened
to you, but...

let's just say there was
someone special, and...

Shh!

Really? I'm opening up.

Broken branch.

Jansen knows better than
to leave a mark like that.

Yeah, he planted it.

And every other sign
we've seen.

He's tracking us.

And that's good how?

We're still not dead,

and he's still not gone.

Like I need help.

Patton, you've been trying
to get into Penn's cloud

for, like, two days.
Dude was deeply paranoid.

I'm talking black-helicopter-
multipliled-by-Area 51 paranoid.

He was a kook.
Whoa, hold on, I resemble that remark.

Yeah, you do-- that's why I
borrowed your Skep-Kook profile.

Skep-Con, okay?

Wait, you stole my identity?

Appropriated, thank you
very much. And it paid off.

Turns out Penn
was preparing

for the day he might die
over a story.

He had a back door
into his files.

Secret encryption key
to gain entry.

Penn left pieces of the key
with various far-flung freaks.

Just got access.

Downloading now.

Same photos,

but they haven't been doctored.

Wait, what's happening?

The files are disappearing.

Someone's hacking in.
They piggypacked

onto your session.
I'll set up

a firewall, try to download

what hasn't been deleted yet.

Can you track the attack?

I'm tracing it now.

Nobody messes with Patton Plame

in his own house.
I'm calling Pride.

We're heading north
like you told us.

We need this hacker's
exact address.

Working on it. Getting
a bead on the IP's now.

Hurry up, I'm losing the battle here.
Don't stress me out.

Don't stress you out?
I'm the only thing

standing between some hacker
and all of Penn's files.

We already lost 20%.

- Focus, guys.
- I'm trying.

This guy is good.
Yeah, he's tearing down

every firewall I put up like
it's made out of rice paper.

40% of the files are gone now.
I know, I know!

I'm zooming in on an address.

50% gone.
I need you to head

towards Bayou Road.

- Address.
- Hold on.

70%.
Would you stop saying percent?

Got it--

2523 Bayou Road.
Yes!

Hands up!

Get away from the computer.
Get your hands up now!

It's all right.

We're on the same side.

Nice to see you again,
Agent Pride.

I'm CIA.

Looked into your background,
parts that aren't classified.

Former Army Ranger.
Masters from MIT.

Guess I'm an overachiever.

With a particular
set of skills.

Expert climber.

Means you could
rappel down a building.

Computer specialist.

Means you can hack.

And the organization
Westmar Relief Group.

CIA set it up as a front.

Put you in charge
of Operation Sawback.

You were sent
down to Bolivia to

fight the People's Army.

To look after the locals.

But for some reason,

you became part of the problem.

Wasn't even in country
when that massacre occurred.

But you covered it up.

Fascinating story.

Massacre in San Martel.
Seven men dead.

Tongues cut out.

Real photo.
Fake photo.

The SEAL was put in later.

By you.
We found evidence

on your hard drive
that you doctored these.

Care to explain?

Well, I'd love to, but...

it's compartmented.

In other words, you'd tell us,
but then you'd have to kill us.

Just like Jonah Penn...

Petty Officer Granier?

Both murdered
because of San Martel.

Tongues cut out
because they knew too much.

Message to the world.
Message to us as well.

Make all signs
point to Jansen.

And just to be sure...

he put a strand of Jansen's hair

in Granier's trunk.

Lot of big talk.

No proof.

We have skin cells

from the man
who killed Granier.

Soon as we get
your DNA back,

we'll make a match

and your time will be up.

Speaking of time...

I haven't checked in
with my colleagues at CIA

since 9:00 a.m.

It'll take 'em
a couple of hours to realize

I'm in your custody.

Then our lawyers
will call yours,

remind them of the CIA mandate
for secrecy.

Until then...

Dalton is right.

CIA will whisk him away
if we don't get Jansen to talk.

We got to find him first,

figure out if he's a witness
or an accomplice.

Oh, I got it. I so got it.

So I took a deeper look
at those undoctored photos

from the massacre.
Which, by the way--

taken with top-notch
equipment. I mean,

these contrast
on these things...

Regardless, I've been
studying them up close,

and I'm 99% sure I can
identify the person

responsible
for the massacre in Bolivia.

Did you get an angle
on the killer's face?

No, something better.
I-I got a fingerprint.

From a photograph?

Yeah, first I found this bloody
thumbprint on the neck.

Here I just zoomed in
and I ran it through AFIS.

Get a hit?
Yeah, it's coming up now.

There it is.

There's the guy
responsible.

Christopher.

Chief Petty Officer
Ryan Jansen!

Come out!

We need to talk!

It's safe for you now!

We know that you
didn't kill Penn!

Or Granier!

We just don't know
why you're running!

How do I know you weren't
sent to kill me?

If that was the case,
you'd be dead by now.

Give it
your best shot.

Suicide by cop?

Is that what you want?

Just do what
you're gonna do already.

Okay.

How about
let's talk.

You, too, Percy.
No way.

Look, I'm your training agent.

He's still got a gun.
There's nothing in the manual

about disarming myself
in front of an armed fugitive.

This isn't in the manual.

Like I said,
Jansen,

we know you didn't kill Penn
or Granier.

And there's proof
exonerating you

from the massacre
at San Martel.

Doesn't mean I'm not guilty.

Operation Sawback.

Mission was protect the locals,
dismantle the PA.

Something happened.
The massacre.

Men who were cooperating
with us brutally executed.

The next day Granier and I
are pulled for an extraction op.

Who were you extracting?

Some local-- they said
if we left him behind

that he'd get killed
like the rest,

so we got him
to safety.

Well, mission
accomplished.

Yeah. Then last week,
Penn calls.

He's got sources in Bolivia.

Found out
who we really extracted.

El Hacha.

Leader of the
People's Army.

He killed those men
in San Martel.

Who ordered you to extract?

A guy named Dalton? CIA?

Yeah. Spook.
I don't know the name.

Well, we got the guy.

You come with us,
you can identify him.

And then what?

Then I just live
the rest of my life

knowing that I freed
a mass murderer?

Brought him
to this county?

How do I deal with that?

Explain that to Emily?

So you want
to restore your honor?

You can do that.

Just come in with us

and bring El Hacha to justice.

All you have to do

is drop your weapon.

Hey, hey.
Remember me?

Okay.
I got it.

Bad temper you've
got there, Baco.

My guess is it's
gotten you into trouble

in the past.
San Martel, for instance?

The seven men you killed?

Right, El Hacha?

Curious,
what's the going rate

to bribe a CIA operative
these days, huh?

Dalton forced me.
I wanted none of it.

He made me kill those men.
It was all him.

That's what Dalton's just told
the U.S. Attorney about you.

Gonna be fun watching you two
eat each other alive.

That leaves one
more thing to do.

What's that?

Better than a postcard.

♪ Jan lays down
and wrestles in her sleep ♪

You all right?

Hey, Em.

♪ An old friend calls
and tells us where to meet ♪

♪ Her plane takes off
from Baltimore ♪

♪ And touches down
on Bourbon Street ♪

♪ Ooh... ooh... ♪

♪ Ooh... ♪

♪ We sit outside
and argue all night long ♪

Smooth motions,
remember?

Keep a rhythm.

Appreciate you...

wantin' to talk about, you know,

the one you lost.

♪ And happy with
her full-time job... ♪

Okay.

And as
for Sheila,

the banker lady,

she's a goof.

Makes me laugh.

Well, laughing is good.

It is for me, now.

Well, for the record,

you know, you make me laugh.

But just 'cause of your looks.
Ha, ha.

Spoke to the U.S. attorney.

CIA is wiping their hands
clean of Dalton.

He's going away
for a long time.

What'd you bring us, King?
Well,

shrimp po'boy for you.
Nice.

And me. Veggie deluxe
for Sonja.

Thank you.

Hey.

That bar looks nice.

Yeah, a little
elbow grease.

Seriously?

♪ If I die
before I learn to speak ♪

♪ Can money pay for all
the days I lived awake ♪

♪ But half asleep? ♪

Hey.

That Penn's article?

Yeah, I was able
to get it online.

We've already got thousands
of hits.

Even in death,
man has a voice.

Oh. About your photos.

Uh, I'm still workin' on 'em,
but, uh, I'll get there.

Well, after what you did
for Penn, I have no doubt.

Thanks, Sebastian.
Yeah.

♪ ♪

Toto, I have a feeling
we're not in Louisiana anymore.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man