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One more lap,
and I am off the clock.

And onto Gina.

Isabelle.

A yoga teacher from Austin.

Oh.

Man, that chick is so flexible.

Mm.

She can touch her nose to her...

To her what?

I got to go.

Someone's coming.

What?

What are the two of
you doing in here?

We... we were just...

Making history.

Uh, s-step out of the exhibit.

Huh?
Now!

We got a problem.

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 1x10 ♪
Stolen Valor
Original Air Date on December 16, 2014

♪ 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

And you know
I been at this a month.

Tried everything--
our database, FBI's.

Nothing more I can do.

I know, it's tough on all of us.

You try to get some sleep, okay?

Yeah, I got to let you go.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Love you, Mom.

Bye.

Checking in with mom?
Yep.

Bet you guys have big
plans for the holiday.

Eh, not so much.

It's Christmas.

I'm well aware.

Got a nifty little
calendar app on my phone.

Christmas is a holiday.

You're firing on all cylinders
today, ain't you, Brody?

Lasalle, you live for holidays.

You celebrate Halloween
for an entire week.

I mean, Thanksgiving is like
an episode of Top Chef.

And don't even get me started
about Fourth of July.

What, you didn't like the,
uh, Uncle Sam costume?

You're a holiday junkie.

And-and Christmas
is the mother of them all.

Sorry to disappoint you, Brody.

Christmas just ain't my thing.

Christopher, Brody.
What do we got?

Annual holiday mixer
for military personnel.

According to his statement,
the security guard

was making his rounds
when he came across the victim

in this closed-off section.

Good tidings, Loretta.

Not for this
particular fella.

The victim is retired SEAL
William Samuels, age 54.

Broken guard rail.

Knocked over replicas.

Based on the diameter
of the wound...

gonna venture to say

he was stabbed in the abdomen
with that knife.

Looks like a...

bayonet, actually.

Approximate time of
death: two hours ago.

8:30.

Right in the middle
of the event.

That's a serious party foul.

Tread mark in the fake snow.

Make a cast and send it over
to Sebastian to analyze.

Seal of honor?

I know that pin.

That's Bud
the Imposter Hunter.

Who's Bud the Imposter Hunter?

Good men and women
risk their lives

each and every day
for this country,

and these lowlife imposters

come in and hijack
their heroism.

Got a call from a lady
in Shreveport.

Neighbor was a so-called
decorated Marine who incurred

a nasty spinal injury--
collected

close to 80 grand
in veterans disability

benefits to cover medical costs.

So imagine the gal's surprise
when she stumbles upon him

teaching a martial arts class.

This jerk was discharged
before he ever got deployed.

I called a contact
at the Veterans Admin

and shut his imposter ass down.

So, all you phonies out there,

the next time you think about
calling yourself a hero,

think again, 'cause
Bud the Imposter Hunter

is out there looking for you.

Question is:
how did Bud the hunter

become Bud the hunted?

Here you go, Addie.

Thank you.
Appreciate you helping us out.

My pleasure.

As the Navy liaison
for stolen valor crimes,

I had the honor of working
with Bud on a handful of cases.

So military fraud
is common for the Navy?

It's become a widespread issue
among all the Armed Forces.

So much so that,
in 2013, Congress passed

the Stolen Valor Act
to clamp down on it.

So these guys pretend to be
in the service for what?

Glory, respect?

Not to mention some significant
financial perks--

higher job salaries,
free goods and services

and thousands
in pensions and benefits.

Wouldn't be surprised if some of
these fakes held a grudge

against Bud for
exposing their scams.

The first thing we
need to do is separate

the G.I. Joes from
the G.I. Fauxs.

I can put a list together of all
the cases Bud and I worked on,

see if there's anyone
who raises a red flag.

Good. Uh, we'll cross-reference
potential suspects with

the security footage from the
party, see if we get a hit.

You know that's my desk,
don't you, Watkins?

Relax, Lasalle. I don't
take up that much room.

Brody, help these two
work it out.

I got a date with the
dynamic duo over at the morgue.

Someone's in
the yuletide spirit.

Saturnalia, actually.

It's a pagan festival celebrated
in ancient Rome.

Did you know that

during Saturnalia,
Romans would go

from house to house
singing in the nude?

It was a precursor to our
modern-day Christmas caroling.

Can we save this for the...
Office holiday party.

Yeah, the thing is I haven't
gotten my invite for that yet.

I keep checking...

Sebastian.
What?

You have some information
you want to share?

I do. That's a
great call. Yes.

I, uh, cross-referenced the
boot print from the crime scene

with all military-issue
boots in the last ten years.

No match. But...

when I ran the tread
through the commercial database,

I found these.

They're cheap knockoffs.

Kind of like the sneakers

my mom bought for me
for my 12th birthday.

See, I had asked
for Adidas, right?

But instead, Mom takes a Sharpie
to a pair of her nursing shoes.

And it's like, Earth to Mom.

You know, Adidas have
three stripes, not four.

Stay with me.

The boots your killer
was wearing are the ten-inch

desert combat boots, made by
that bastion of style,

Chinese manufacturer Wee-San.

They retail
for about 183 yuan.

That's about $29.99.

Thanks, buddy.

You got it, friend.

Check your Evite.

Upon opening Bud's

abdominal cavity,
I found several organs were

severely damaged
by the bayonet blade

being moved transversely
within the body.

Meaning this wasn't
a quick stab-and-run.

Killer probably twisted
the blade back and forth

after he stabbed Bud?

That's what I thought, until...

I found this lovely sight.

Ouch.

In most stabbings,
you don't see

such severe bruising because
of the rapid blood loss.

But the discoloration here
indicates

several hours of
internal bleeding.

What I couldn't
figure out was why.

That's when I
realized that perhaps

the victim wasn't
stabbed by the bayonet,

but instead...

impaled.

You see...

...if the bayonet had merely

punctured the victim's
blood vessels,

it would cause a rapid flow
of blood from the exit wound,

like this.

But if the victim was

impaled by the bayonet,

it would exert
enough force on the vessels

to actually stop the bleeding.

So Bud and the killer fought.

Bud goes crashing through
the guard railing,

lands on the bayonet.

At which point, the victim
struggles for hours

to free himself from the weapon.

So, while I was correct

that he died between
8:00 and 9:00 p.m...

He was assaulted earlier.

Somewhere between
noon and 4:00.

You may have a gingerbread.

You're welcome.

We've been looking at the wrong
part of the security tape.

According to Pride,

Bud was attacked by his
killer as early as 12:00 p.m.

Museum opens at 1100.

What was the schedule
of events that day?

The American Legion had a
gift drive from noon to 3:00.

I'll start downloading
security cam files

from earlier in the day.

We'll refresh the caffeine.

What's up with this whole

“Lasalle hates Christmas” thing?

You've known him a while;
you tell me.

Couple years--
I mean,

wouldn't say I have the
inside track on him or anything.

Chris is a great guy.

He's funny, smart,
easy on the eyes.

But?

He acts like
he's this open book.

Half the time,
I can't read him.

I found him.

2:22.

There's our hunter.

Let's see if
he finds his prey.

There he is--
the east overhead.

Zoom in.

Seems to be having...

some sort of confrontation
with this guy.

Bud followed him
into the roped-off area.

Can you get closer?

Yep.

Come on now.

Real blurry.

Think Bruce can handle it?

Watch and learn, sister.

Attaboy.

Len Bowers.

Well, look what
we got here.

From Bud's files.

He's got a
downtown address.

Fifth floor apartment's
rented to a Trish Parker.

Wonder if Trish knows she's
shacking up with a charlatan.

Something's burning.

It's cold.

Ready?

NCIS!

Hands in the air!

Baby, run!

No! No!

Leave him alone!

Baby, get on!

What the hell?

All right, BOLO's out
on Bonnie and Clyde.

Meantime, what do we know?

According to
Bud's file,

Len Bowers was rejected
from the forces three times

for failing
his physical.

That's when he decided to enlist
in the make-believe military.

Started showing up
at events and social media sites

claiming to be
a decorated Marine.

Apparently, he met Backwoods
Barbie on SoldierMingle.com.

Clearly,
Trish was trying

to burn any evidence
connecting Len with the crime.

Explosive Ordnance Disposal.

Navy bomb tech.

Those guys are the real deal.

So's the jacket.

DoD identification
number.

Have Addie run the number
through DEIDS.

All right? See if she can
figure out who it belongs to.

It looks like

Len and Trish was planning
a romantic getaway.

Checked the Greyhound schedule
less than an hour ago.

Must be dozens of buses
running across the Gulf

at any given time.

64, to be exact.

Put an alert out
to local authorities.

Eyes on at every station.

Huh.

Let me guess.

Wee-San.

If you guys will just be patient
for a few more moments.

Agent Pride, this is
Marshall and Liza Chase.

Jacket you found
in that apartment

was issued to
their son Zack.

Nice to meet you folks.
When I checked their son's

OMPF file, he was listed as
Duty Status Whereabouts Unknown,

at which point
I contacted the...

My wife and I want to know
why you're asking about Zack.

Marsh, please.

Mr. and Mrs. Chase,

we believe your son

may be indirectly involved
in a case we're investigating.

That's impossible.

Our son was killed in
Afghanistan almost a year ago.

This is Zack.

He was on a mission in
Afghanistan clearing land mines.

There was an accident.

An abandoned building exploded.

It was the last time
anyone saw our son.

ISAF troops searched
extensively for Zack's remains.

They recovered traces
of skin and bone fragment

that matched his DNA.

We're... we're very sorry.

We-we didn't...

Zack died doing
what he loved best.

Said there was nothing better
than watching a displaced family

go home

after he made it safe for them.

Must've made you proud.

Mm, he did.

Sure gave us a run for our money
as a kid though.

Climbing on roofs,

falling out of trees.

He was our little
Tasmanian devil.

Taz.

Name kind of stuck.

Mr. and Mrs. Chase,
we're trying to figure out

how your son's jacket got into
the hands of a murder suspect.

I can tell you how.
It's not his.

You all said this guy
was a... was a phony.

The jacket's got
to be fake, too.

But if there was a chance...

Damn it, Liza.

Our son is gone.

At some point,

we got to close the book,
try and move on.

May I see it?

The jacket.

Celtic shield knot?

For protection.

Sewed one into Taz's jacket

when he got deployed.

It's his, Marshall.

It means
somebody found his body.

Please,
if there's any information

on our son's death...

We'll do whatever it takes
to help you find closure.

I promise you that.

It's a risky move,

promising
that family answers.

It's all a little close
to home for you, huh?

Yeah, I gave that a...

another shot.

Same thing.

Just caused my family pain.

I'm sorry.

I know what they're
going through, King.

I mean...

every time
that couple hits that wall...

it's like they're losing
their son all over again.

Sebastian just texted.

He got something
off Bowers' boot.

Yeah, right there.

Brody and I will

focus on finding Len Bowers,

figure out how he got his hands
on that jacket.

You take Addie.

Start looking back
into Zack's case.

King, I'm not sure...
Learn things.

It'll do you good.

We'd swept half the village
for explosives,

but it was getting dark.

So... had to call it a day.

Decided to head back
to the F.O.B.

That was when Zack said

he saw someone
wander into the red zone.

I've told all of this

to the command investigators
already.

We understand. We're
just trying to figure out

how Petty Officer Chase's jacket
could have survived the blast.

I...

tried to stop him
from going back.

But Zack...

wouldn't listen.

Next thing I know,
there's

a crazy explosion.

White light knocked me
clear on my ass.

Taylor, can
you remember

if Zack had on his tech jacket

before he went back
in that building?

Gone over that day at least
a hundred times in my head,

just trying
to make sense of it all.

Wondering whether there was

something I could've done
different.

But I can say that

Zack was wearing his jacket.

Sure of it.

Taylor!

If y'all don't mind...

my training partner's
waiting on me.

Of course.

Thank you, ma'am.
Thank you.

Good luck.

Come on, let's hit it!

Phloem sap.

Phloem what?

Sap. Like from a tree?

See, while the barbecue flames
managed to broil the better part

of these boots, they didn't
singe off everything.

There was a small speck of sap
on the right sole.

Stubborn bugger held on
even as the heat rose,

Krakatoa!

Still working
on that catchphrase, huh?

Back to the drawing board.
In any event,

I discovered that the sap came
from a bald cypress tree,

a tree which happens
to be indigenous

to our own Atchafalaya Basin.

Atchafalaya Basin?

That's 337 area code.

There were two calls
placed there

from Trish and Len's apartment.

And, look, there happens to be

a Greyhound bus station
there, too.

Loved the look on her face

when she got
off that bus.

Would've loved it more
if Len Bowers had been there.

Thinking good cop or bad cop?

Thinking... girl cop.

No word from Len yet.

Probably doesn't have reception.

Yeah.

Not a lot places
without cell towers these days.

He'll call.

I know he will.

Look, I get it.

You're in love.

Head over heels,
pit in the stomach,

whole nine yards.

What do you know about it?

Plenty.

Name was James.

Met at a party.

Pretty much inseparable
from the get-go.

One morning, we were
having breakfast.

Poured myself
some Shredded Wheat.

And there it was, sitting
in the middle of my bowl.

Two carats, cushion cut.

He got down on one knee,

told me all the reasons
he loved me,

how he wanted
to grow old with me.

And?
And...

then he was gone.

Where he'd go?

All I can say is,

nothing about James
was what he said it was.

And the worst part?

Deep down...
I knew it all along.

I think you know it, too.

Len's on his way
to Mexico.

Here's the make
and model of the truck

he borrowed from his cousin
to get there.

Yeah, put a BOLO
out on it stat.

Also, alert the border.

Copy that.

Story you told
Trish-- true?

May have been a bowl
of Shredded Wheat.

Hands where we can see them.

Thank your girlfriend for
giving us your 20, Len.

Ex-girlfriend,
actually.

It was an accident.

I didn't mean to hurt anyone.

He just kept
calling me a phony.

He has a name.

Bud Samuels.

And considering you were
impersonating

a United States naval officer?

I tried to serve.

Didn't make the grade.

Said I was defective,
on account of the fact

that I got a stupid
heart murmur.

Then this jerk comes along
rubbing salt in my wounds.

I just snapped.

Snapped is when you punch a guy.

Impaling them to death
is a whole other ball game.

I pushed the guy.

I didn't mean for him
to break through that rail.

When I looked down and I saw
that bayonet through his gut...

got scared, so I ran.

Okay, now that we got
the murder part squared away.

Something else.

We found an EOD jacket
in your apartment.

Belongs to a petty officer
named Zack Chase.

Need to know
where you got the coat.

No reason to help you.

No. No, you sure don't.

And this kid, Chase...

...his family needs answers.

You can help give them some.

This is your
chance here.

Your chance
to be a real hero, Len.

Hameed.

Guy who sold me the jacket.

Find him,
you'll get your answers.

I was up all night

trying to make sense of the
Navy's medical examiner's report

on the explosion that killed
Petty Officer Chase.

What's the quandary?

Anti-personnel mines

laid by the Russians
in Afghanistan

were designed to devastate,

not vaporize,

which would leave far more
of the petty officer's DNA

than just traces of

bone fragments and skin.
It just doesn't add up.

I might have something
to contribute to the equation.

Feels like eighth grade science
all over again.

I wouldn't know. I was
taking organic chemistry

at the local
university by then.

While wearing
women's sneakers.

Anyway, this is a mock
explosion using compounds

typically found in a
military-grade land mine.

Safety first.

Fire in the hole.

As you can see, it emits a
black mushroom-like cloud.

But Zack's coworker
Taylor described

the explosion aftermath
as a bright, white light.

Do either of you know what
emits that type of cloud?

Now would be the time
to fill us in, dear.

It's TATP.

It's a chemical
most commonly found

in improvised
explosive devices.

Kind used by insurgents
and terrorists.

Mm-hmm.
- IED explosion

would be more in line
with the type

of trace evidence found
at the explosion site.

Still doesn't explain what
happened to Zack's body.

What if there was no body?

My theory is that it was moved.

In certain cultures, rebel
factions will display corpses

as a show of power.

U.S. serviceman would offer
the ultimate bragging right.

Question is:
where did they move it to?

Hey.

Been looking for you.

Oh, just had to get some air.

Heard we got a
lead on the jacket.

Barely.

Len Bowers said he bought it

from some rug importer
named Hameed.

It's a start.

It's a freakin' needle
in a haystack is what it is.

You're doing your best, Chris.

That's not good enough.

I mean, Mr. Chase was right.

We should have just
let this go.

And where would
that leave his wife?

Wouldn't you want your
family to keep searching?

I'm not sure
what I'd want anymore.

My older brother, Cade--

I haven't seen him
in almost five years.

Were you two close?

Yeah, I worshipped him.

He was that guy.

All-state quarterback,
honor roll.

One who got all the girls.

Summer he turned 21,

he was diagnosed with
bipolar disorder.

He would stay up for a whole
week and then crash for days.

And four years ago, he didn't
show up for the holidays.

Few weeks went by.

Then a month.

We searched
everywhere for him.

Shelters, hospitals.

We set up a hot line.

I mean, I'm a cop, Addie.
This is what I do.

I find people.
I solve mysteries.

And I haven't been able to do a
damn thing about my own brother.

I'm sorry.

Brody found a signed
shipping order from the docks.

“Hameed Azizi.”

Go.

Hameed Azizi?

Yes?

NCIS.

Didn't even
have time to stretch.

Why do they always run?

This is where I tell you
to put your hands up!

On your head.

I thought you were tax people
coming about my import license.

We'll worry about
your license later.

Right now, we're here to talk
to you about this jacket.

The one you
sold this guy.

Where'd you get it?

At the port.

Here in New Orleans?

In Karachi.

I visit a few times a year
to get rugs to sell.

There is a boy, Sami--
he helps me load cargo.

He was wearing the coat.

Why'd you want it?

There's a market
for these things,

and I'm a businessman.

This boy, Sami--
where'd he get it?

Ghazni.

It's a province about 100 klicks
south of Daykundi,

which is where
the explosion occurred.

Thanks. Navy LNO in Ghazni
located the boy.

They're patching him through
right now.

Agent Pride, Lieutenant
Commander Blake Conner.

We located the child
wrangling odd jobs at the port.

Hi, Sami.

Wanted to ask you
a few questions.

Sami...

do you remember this jacket?

Can you tell me
where you got it?

In my village,
when I was working for Mujahed.

Rebels?

And they gave you the jacket?

They paid me to bring rice and
water to the man in the hole.

The one who was
fixing the cell phones.

Taz.

He's the one
who gave me the jacket.

Taz?

Zack Chase may still be alive.

When was the last time
you saw the man in the hole?

A month ago.

What do you say, King?

I say we're going
to Afghanistan.

If Sami's Intel
is good,

we're gonna find
Petty Officer Chase

in a bunker somewhere

in the southeast quadrant
of that village.

Go time.

Let's move.

You sure your husband
doesn't need something?

Coffee, something to eat?

No, he needs to be out there.

Being occupied.

His way of dealing.

I remember when
we first got the call

about Zack-- the explosion.

I just...

sat there on the couch and wept.

Marsh--
he went out to the garage,

pulled out his toolbox.

Said he needed to replace
the washer in the faucet.

Thing had been
dripping for months.

We all have
our coping mechanisms.

His is being practical.

For me, practical gets
in the way of possible.

We're too late.

He's gone.

No sign of blood or a struggle.

Cell phone bases.

Sami was wrong.

Zack wasn't fixing
cell phones.

He was being forced
to make detonators.

Insurgents have been
trying to get around

our jamming devices for years.

It's a perfect job
for a EOD tech.

Yeah.

Explains why
there was no chatter

after Zack got captured.

He was their secret weapon.

King.

He must have been
counting the days.

If he was,
he's terrible at math.

Two rows total 97.

Should be triple that.

Chase disappeared
almost nine months ago.

Okay, wait a minute.

If you add the two rows
separately, you get 31 and 66.

Look at that gap.

They're coordinates.

Latitude is commonly
designated by the plus sign,

so that's the top row.

And longitude is usually
the minus sign,

which means it's the bottom.

31 latitude.

66 longitude.

Shu Buldak compound,
70 miles south of here.

We got it. Lieutenant.

Let's move.

Mount up!

Hey!

Zack Chase?

Yeah.

Can you walk?
Yeah.

They tried to get me
to build them a detonator.

But I wouldn't do it.

That's when they
talked about moving me.

We'd swept
the munitions plant before.

I knew the coordinates, so I
scratched them into the wall.

Something inside me
just told me not to give up.

Got your mom's outlook
on the world.

Oh!
Mom!

Oh! Zack.

Special Agent Pride.

I almost gave up
on getting him back.

And you didn't.

Thank you.

Dad!

Oh, my baby.

Where you off to?

To Jackson Square
for some caroling.

What can I say?

I'm a sucker for
“Little Drummer Boy.”

Nothing wrong with that.

Either of you care to join me?

Well, jet lag's gonna

ruin any chance of sleep, so...

guess I'm in.

Christopher?

Oh, y'all go ahead.
Got a few things to finish up.

Good night, Lasalle.

Good night, Brody.

I'll meet you there.

All right.

You okay?

Yeah.

You told me to go
learn things.

I was looking
at it all wrong.

He changed his last name--
Cade Lambert.

It's our mother's maiden name.

Looks like an opportunity.

Let me know
if you need some help.

Appreciate it, King.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

What are you
doing here, Watkins?

Just checking
in on a friend.

That's a lucky friend.

Damn straight he is.

Finding Zack,

bringing him home
to his parents...

It was a good day.

Yeah.

Couldn't have done it
without you.

Was that a compliment?

Could take it back.
Too late.

So what do you say
we head up to Jackson Square

and listen to the carols?

You sure? 'Cause that might
ruin your Scrooge cred.

Come on.

Well, after, we could
catch a midnight showing

of It's a Wonderful Life.

Now, don't push your luck.

All right, Lasalle.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

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