All language subtitles for CSI.S12E09.Zippered.720p.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H264-NFHD

♪ ♪

Hey. What are
you doing here?

I work here...
close to 20 years now.

You're two and a
half hours early.

My house is too quiet,
if that makes any sense.

Oh, no, it makes complete sense.

Yeah, our youngest has been

out of the house now
for three months,

and we're still wrestling
with empty nest.

Yeah.

So how is
your daughter?

Lindsey.

Lindsey, yeah.
Yeah.

Uh, she's doing...
she's doing really good.

She's doing great, in fact.

She's... well, according
to her e-mails.

Hey, do you do that thing
where you call them,

and then you get
this three-word text back?

Doesn't it make
you crazy?

Yes, but, um...

...this is her time
to find herself, you know?

Okay.

You're on the clock now.

So, neighbor
called in shots fired.

Police officers found
the door ajar.

No sign of forced entry.

Place belongs
to Michael Newbury.

Army Ranger,
military lifer.

Retired out here
15 years ago.

- Hmm.
- Married to the mission.

Not a woman's touch.

No photos, no family.

Yeah, talk about empty nest.

Okay. I give up.

Where's the body?

Well, there's
none to speak of.

We found blood

and evidence of
those shots fired.

Lots of evidence.

Do you recognize
this caliber?

Five-point-seven by 28?

Casings have rolled
all over the floor.

Kind of hard to tell
where the shooter was.

Easy to place the shots, though.

Okay, so, our guy was

probably standing here,
got shot, right?

Spatter starts to thin out.

Drops the beer bottle.

Collapses in this direction.

And then...

Nothing.

No body, no suspect,
no murder weapon.

Furniture moving disks.

Check out the scuffing
along the floor.

Repetitive.

Let's move it.

Okay.

You guys should
check this out!

No body,
no suspects.

But if you're in the market
for a murder weapon...

...take your pick.

♪ CSI 12x09 ♪ Zippered Original Air Date on December 7, 2011

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me who are you,
you, you ♪

♪ Are you! ♪

So, I just finished talking

to all the neighbors
over there.

They all said the same thing.

Yeah, let me guess:
Kept to himself?

By all accounts, a hermit.

Anybody float
any theories

on why someone would
want to hurt him?

No, and apparently, he had
no friends and no enemies.

But one of the neighbors called
him a, quote, "a peaceful soul."

Yeah, I'm betting they
hadn't seen that gun room.

Greg.

Let me show
you something.

When the sun came
up-- thank you--

the unis found a
secondary scene.

Take a look at it, will you,
and tell me what you see?

Well, I see lots
of cartridge casings.

Where are the bullet holes?

In the ground, by way of
a body, I'm thinking.

Take a look at that jelly

that's kind of
jammed in there.

Looks like human flesh, right?

Looks like it.

Bone fragments,
intestinal tissue.

Take a look

at the tissue a little closer.

Margins aren't inflamed.

Capillaries are withdrawn.

Tells me that this victim's
heart stopped beating

before all this
damage was done.

But why would you shoot
a dead man

a hundred times?

I don't know...

but maybe this has something
to do with it.

Looks like a grommet
or something, right?

Shower curtain?

Which one of these is for OCD?

Hey, check this out.

Oh. Looks Arabic.

That's all I got.

Took Spanish in high school.

Moi, Francais.

But fortunately...
there's an app for that.

Of course there is.

"Farsi."

Ex-military, a loner,
a room full of guns.

And medication from
the Middle East.

Who the hell was this guy?

Whew.

Well, leave it up to you

to find the books
in a room full of guns.

Let me ask you
something.

What do you have on your
bookshelves at home?

Uh, Sports Illustrated,
MoneyBall,

bunch of forensics books--

But all in all, like,
a good representation

of who you are, right?

Man, fan, CSI.

So, what's on this guy's
reading list?

Great American Manifestoes?

No, that's
the interesting thing.

I mean, he's got
Journal of Ballistics,

Hatcher's Notebook,
Firearms Assembly, Part Three.

He's even got a classical

mechanics text.

So, he's a nerdy gun nut.

Yeah, I think he's more
like a scientist, like us.

I mean, look at this workspace.

You could eat off this sucker.

Everything in its place.

Oh, come here.
This is so cool.

All his guns are organized by
theater of conflict, you know?

World War II Europe all the way
to the surge in Afghanistan.

Cool, huh?

Ah, the coolest, but we
info on a more current conflict.

- The shooting up in the kitchen
- Which is why

I called in the big gun. Hey,

Xiomara, welcome to Xanadu.

Wow.

This is so much like my dreams,
it's scary.

Yeah, let me ask
you something

before I completely
lose you here.

You recognize
that caliber

Five-point-seven
by 28 mil. Rare.

Can't even b these rounds
in the States.

Oh, you can fire plenty.

Someone put seven in our victim.

So, you think any of these
could be the culprit?

Hmm... Well, as
much as I'd love

to fire that Italian 38
Troopen Special,

or even just touch that
million dollar Luger...

Geez.

- Get a room.
- Oh, I got one.

And it's perfect.

The only problem is,

none of these guns in
here use that caliber.

Oh, its crazy.

All this firepower,
and still no murder weapon.

Catherine,
who do you want to be?

Victim or killer?

I'll be the killer.

I'll be the victim.
I've got a beer in my hand,

I'm standing
in my own kitchen, I've got

every kind of gun
six meters that way.

I'm heading that way
when I'm shot.

These laser trajectories
are too low.

Thought the killer
surprised him.

The lasers tell us that

he was well inside
before he fired.

Killer was sitting
at the counter.

Newbury welcomed him
into his home.

Maybe they both
had a beer together.

So, he was killed

by somebody he knew.

Well, our victim's paper trail
is pretty straightforward.

Ex-Army.

Bought his little piece
of heaven in 1997.

Lived there
peacefully ever since.

Never married, never arrested,

and never out of the country
except for Gulf War I.

I think you're wrong on that.

I'm sorry?

Oh, don't be sorry.
Just be wrong.

Hexadecylphosphocholine,
which is the drug of choice

foe Kala Azar parasite.

This particular little
bugger resides exclusively

in the Middle East.
- How do you get

a Middle Eastern parasite
Mountain Spring?

You don't.

It seems our evidence
trails contradict each other.

Which brings us back
to you being wrong.

Hey, why am I the one
who's wrong?

Because the other person is me.

Okay, well, tell you what.

Hair never lies,
so let's let it decide.

So the bullets in the kitchen
and the bullets

in the ground out by the barn...

Match each other.
Same weapon.

- Great. Did you get a hit on IBIS?
- No.

Caliber's never been used
in a crime in the U.S.

But given the nature
of the ammo,

I called in a
favor to a buddy,

who ran it through the
military ballistics database.

Nice to have friends
with friends in high places.

The same weapon

was used in a crime scene
in Pakistan a month ago.

This gun gets around.
What happened in Pakistan?

Military supplies were stolen;
a warehouse guard was shot.

Wow, the plot thickens.

Yeah, and then it thins
once you get to page two.

The report's been
heavily redacted.

Yeah, I'll say.

The whole thing's blacked out.

Oh, I found a word:

"The."

- Hey, can I keep one of these?
- Sure.

We're looking
for D.B. Russell.

That's me.

Who are you guys?

We ran a test
on the victim's hair.

The oxygen isotopes
that are found

in the local water supplies
leave markers in the hair,

which indicate where
Mr. Newbury has been

in the last
three months.

Each .44

millimeters of hair
is a day in the life.

And, oh, the places

he's been in the
five centimeters

Iraq, DC,

Israel, Belgium,
DC again, Pakistan.

- Have guns, did travel.
- But there are no official records

of him going to
any of these places.

No airline tickets,
immunization,

State Department records--
nothing.

So his passport's
never been stamped,

but his body's been
around the world?

Extended family meeting--
now, please.

What... did he mean
by "extended"?

Hey, come on in, everybody.

I want to...

I want to introduce a
couple of people to you.

This is Agent McQuaid,
Special-Agent-in-Charge Pratt.

They're with
the Las Vegas

field office
of the FBI.

We're here to help you with
the Michael Newbury homicide.

You mean you're here
to take over the case from us.

Not at all.

No, this case is still under
Las Vegas PD jurisdiction.

We're just here to offer
our assistance.

Assistance with what, exactly?

That, I'm afraid,
is on a need-to-know basis.

And who decides
who needs to know?

Anyway, we're really

- excited to be working with you.
- Oh, yeah,

ditto.

Hey, hey.
Come on.

Let's play nice.

Oh, boy, that's good.

Sure I can't get you any,
uh, soy milk for that?

A little agave?

No. No, thank you.
Black's great.

All right.

- So, here we are.
- We said we'd brief you.

Who's she?

I'm sorry.

This is Catherine.

And Catherine was me
before I was.

And I have assigned
Catherine

to be the lead
on this case.

Okay? So...

what is going on here?

I mean, we got
a room full of guns,

we got missing bodies,
and now the FBI?

Is this domestic
terrorism?

We have no
reason to believe

that Mr. Newbury
was... a threat.

No, he was a ballistics
consultant, right?

Yours or the military's?

What makes you say that?

Oh, I didn't say it.

A strand of his hair did.

For three months,

he's been
jumping from DC

to every artillery hot spot
on the globe.

We can't really
speak to that.

Can you speak to why you fellas
are so interested in his death?

We're more interested in the
weapon that we believe killed him.

This is
the FN-P90,

manufactured in Belgium,
currently used by U.S. troops

in urban sweeps
of Afghanistan.

It's an entry weapon.

It's got a lot of power,
a compact frame that

allows you to go
around corners

and sweep stairwells--
it's a bit of a beast.

And how the hell did that thing
get into Clark County?

I'm afraid
that's classified.

Yes, of course
it is.

Hey, out of curiosity,

what year did you graduate
from Brigham Young?

- '03. How'd you know?
- FBI recruiters

are all over that place
like chickens on a June bug.

- Am I right?
- If you're...

concerned with my age,

I promise you,
I've earned my stripes.

So have I.

Every suspicious
cargo container in Seattle

came with a pair of you guys.

Eight out of ten times,

it was great.

Resources, manpower-- made
my job a hell of a lot easier.

And... the other two?

Well, you guys
would lose interest

and chase off after
the next shiny object,

leaving us with a pretty shoddy
chain of custody.

We have no intention

of compromising your investigation.
- I have no intention

of letting you. So,

here's what we're gonna do.

We are going to pair up.

Mixed doubles, all right?

All right? Every
CSI gets an FBI.

Catherine, why don't
you take Agent McQuaid,

go back out to the farm,
re-scour the place.

Let's get a bead on that body.

- Okay?
- I'll drive?

Hey, I got my own driver.

Score.

- And what about me?
- You...

are my new best friend.

Somebody spilled ink
all over my Pakistani

crime report,
and I'm just bet...

I mean, look at that.

I'm just betting that your
copy's a little more legible

than this one.

So, why are we back here?

Did you miss something
the first time?

Yes. Context.

As your people
were obscuring it.

We now know that someone
brought a super-gun

to an expert.

And that expert was then
shot by the same weapon,

in his kitchen,
and he was wrapped

in a shower curtain
and he was brought here.

Where he was shot again.

And again.

Why the overkill?

Well, maybe it
wasn't overkill.

I mean, based
on the grouping

and the volume, my guess is
he zippered him.

Zippered? Is that
what it sounds like?

If a weapon's cyclic rate
is fast enough

and the ammo's nasty enough...

you can actually rip
right through a man.

Open him up...

like a zipper.

But why halve a man
after the fact?

I'm thinking,

ease of transport.

A whole body...

wouldn't fit inside
one of these garbage bags.

They're too small.

Okay.

So the killer...

shreds the shower curtain,
hauling the body out here...

and he still needs
to move it.

Right. The tire treads
that we cast in the driveway

match to a Dodge pickup,
so perhaps the killer

zippers, stuffs,
ties and throws

two bags of carcass
into his truck bed.

And gets away without a trace.

You know, I see idiots
using garbage bags

for body disposals all the time.

And they almost always leak.

Directional blood drop.

Its spine is telling me

that he went that way.

Thank you.
Un-redacted.

So much easier to read.

- Why don't you walk me through this.
- Four weeks ago

in Pakistan, a warehouse
guard was killed

trying to stop a raid
on U.S. military supplies.

Using that same gun,
the FN-P90?

According to
the ballistics report.

So, when we ran
that bullet through

the military database, it raised
a red flag on your end, right?

That's why you're here?

To be frank, it's the
only flag that we've had.

I mean, we never recovered any
supplies and didn't find the shooter.

Who did the work-up
on this for you?

Are you familiar with the term
"battlefield forensics"?

That's CSI on speed, right?

Except people are dropping bombs
on you and shooting at you.

This scene in Pakistan
was processed

by operatives working
for Ceressus Logistics.

- It's a U.S. military contractor.
- Yeah.

They handle most of
the law enforcement

in our overseas
operations, right?

Well, as well as police
training, supplies, transportation,

artillery, food service,
you name it.

And you think that those
people at Ceressus

are the ones who
stole your supplies?

- I didn't say that.
- No, you didn't have to, though.

If that gun was taken
by an insurgent,

it wouldn't have
ended up in Nevada.

But it did-- so you got to be
thinking inside job, right?

I mean, there's no
evidence to support that.

Forget about evidence,
just for a second.

What's your gut tell you?

It tells me that someone at
Ceressus could be behind this,

but I can't accuse one of our law
enforcement partners of theft

without having any proof.

No, you can't.

But what the heck, we
can talk to them, right?

I mean, there was a
crime scene in Pakistan--

we'd be just doing
our due diligence.

Don't you think?

Your boss is

kind of young.

He's not my boss.

He's my replacement.

I'm training him till I
de-camp from Las Vegas office.

On to bigger
and better things?

Mm, I don't know
about better.

More important,
I suppose.

More dangerous.

More dangerous?
Really? Where?

Your boss, he said
you were him before he was.

What's that about?

The technical term
is "demotion."

Good girl does bad. So what,
are you just biding your time

till you can rise
to that top spot again?

I'm not sure I want it anymore.

What do you want?

Right now?

I want more blood drops.

Haven't seen any in the
past couple hundred yards.

- The trail's run dry.
- Maybe not.

This is McQuaid.

Let's get our cadets out here
to walk the line ASAP.

I want a couple of FLIR
helicopters up in the air,

and mobilize half a dozen
canine units, right now.

I'm impressed.

But you can call off your dogs.

I got vultures.

Mike Newbury, I presume?

Looks like our
feathered friends found him

a few hours before we did.

Good call on the zippering.

That's the beer bottle
that made our ring.

Check this out.

Ink. I think.

It's a tattoo...

but sadly...

it's mangled
beyond recognition.

On purpose, right?

Look at the vulture nips

on the rest of the body.

The skin is pulled.

These cuts here are clean,
like they came

from a blade of sorts.

Or...

- Unh.
- Shattered beer bottle.

Killer wanted
to obscure this tattoo.

Mission accomplished.

We can't tell
what is was now.

No, not in this
current state.

But that's the thing
about tattoos.

You better be sure,
'cause they're forever.

Doc, can I take this part to go?

No, not yet
but we deliver.

Isn't this the questioned
documents area?

Why, yes is.

And this is the
Video-Spectral Comparator.

We use it on worn
or altered papers

to isolate one part
of the color spectrum at a time.

You're going to
put this in there?

Uh-huh.

Okay.

A tattoo's ink goes
down to the dermis, right?

Uh-huh.

So, if we adjust

to look for different
ink colors...

You can pull out
the tattoo fragments

one color at a time.

Mr. Gabriel, I have to say,

that when we asked to speak
to a representative of Ceressus,

I didn't expect the CEO.

I take my job seriously,
Captain,

and my job, above all,
is to serve my country,

so, whatever you need,

I want you to have it.
- Mm.

Very much appreciated, sir.

Uh, Mr. Gabriel,
your Battlefield Forensics Team

processed a crime
scene in Pakistan,

and a gun was
implicated.

And then, the same gun
showed up stateside,

last night, in this
mysterious homicide.

Any idea how
that might have happened?

I can't speak to the scene here,

I read my guys' report
on my plane.

Seems pretty straightforward.
Insurgent raid, right?

What about your men over there?

You know them well?

- You trust them?
- I run a tight ship.

I hire only the best, only after
excessive background checks.

In fact, I've had to say no

to police,

even FBI agents.

Yeah, but

it's like the wild west

out there, right? I mean,

a war zone.

Rules go flying
out the window.

Any chance
somebody did something

they weren't supposed to?

What are you saying exactly?

It must be very tempting,
that's all.

You know, your people have
a certain window of time

where they can do
as they please.

You know,
take anything they want.

Like those guns,

for example,
and they certainly have

unlimited resources to cart them
anywhere they want in the world.

My people do exactly
what yours do Mr. Russell

but without the luxury of time

or security.
- Hmm.

Let me go back
a second here.

Didn't you just say,
"I read it on my plane?"

Kind of hard to get a,
you know, a lecture on luxury

from somebody
who just used the words,

"I read it on my plane,"
you know.

Muddies things,
that's all.

Then let me be clear.

Yeah. Please.

The sort of corruption

you're implying
is neither encouraged

nor tolerated at Ceressus.

Clear?

Laura?

Catherine.

Oh, my God.

What are you
doing here?

Laura and I
were friends...

Way too many years ago
to say aloud.

Do you work here?

- Uh, the crime lab.
- Law enforcement.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- You?
- Yeah, well, it's a long story.

What are you
doing here?

My husband is helping out
on a case

with the police and the FBI.

Your husband's Mark Gabriel?

I'm sorry. Who are you?

Agent McQuaid. FBI.

You look great.

It's been 20 years, and I can
still tell when you're lying.

22, and you still can't take
a compliment.

Laura.

I got to go.

Oh, hey, um,

are you in town
for a while?

A day or two.
Do you have any free time?

Yes. Get ahold of me here.

Laura, today.

Hey, Nicky, what's up?

Well, I got good news,
and I got bad news.

The good news is,
I think I found our gun.

Great. And the bad news?

16-year-old kid comes in

to rob the place.

And the clerk must have
sneezed, and the kid's weapon

spits out about 50
of your magic rounds.

Shooter said he found
it behind a Dumpster

at D Street
and Barlow.

Anybody else hurt?

Hell, yeah.
Clerk took half a dozen.

He's en route to the E.R. now.

And the rifleman over there
literally shot himself

in the foot.

I'm just glad he
ran out of ammo.

Think it was a little bit
too much gun for him.

Would be for me, too.

That thing's a monster.

Glad it's off the street..

Okay, see you later.

Okay.

What's the matter?

If that one weapon got out,
there may be more to follow.

Those are the stolen supplies
you were talking about?

That's the problem
we're here to fix.

That gun?
The cuts-people-in-half gun?

Well, how many we talking
about? Give me a number.

144.

144 of these?!

That's not a problem.

That's a... that's a war zone.

You find anything?

Afraid not.

- Okay.
- No, no, wait, wait.

I found
"a frayed not."

A thread that's been tied
into a knot.

It was snagged
in the magazine well.

And it's... it's

frayed.

The thread is wool,

made from refined
camel hair

And the knot is
not just any knot.

It's the asymmetrical
Sennah knot,

a Persian knot
specifically used finer rugs.

See, the thread is wrapped
around only one warp,

and then it's passed behind
to the adjacent warp,

which divides the two ends,
right?

So, these types of rugs

that are woven
with this knot are generally...

You're welcome.

Took a little luck and a
lot of computer enhancement,

but this eagle
has finally landed.

It's military.

Skeleton with a beret.
That's definitely military.

The bird's Airborne.

532?

532nd Division.

Killer purposefully
carved out this tattoo

with the beer bottle.

Why?

Something to hide?

Maybe he had the same tattoo.

Same division.
A brother in arms.

Someone you'd share a beer with.

Okay, Persian carpets,

plus, Army tattoo.

How does that equal
gun runner?

Hey, you know what?

Cross-reference the
532nd Airborne with locals.

You drop a gun off at D
street and Barlow Ave,

I'm thinking you know
that neighborhood pretty well.

Maybe even lived there.

Yeah, that gives us
14 candidates

that served
while Newbury was active.

Anyone drive a Dodge pickup?

Bingo. Lenny Wesson.

I got him. Yeah, he grew up
in the alphabets.

Dishonorably discharged.

Went the way of the rap sheet.

Catches work
as an independent truck driver.

He drives a '97, Peterbilt semi.

But he doesn't work
for Ceressus.

But he wouldn't.
He's not smart enough.

Remember? "Only the
brightest and the best."

Background checks.
Blah, blah, blah.

Now, you know, I think
Lenny may be our weak link.

So someone from Ceressus boosts
the guns in Pakistan,

brings them into the country,
and he's got to move them.

He calls an ex-foxhole buddy

They ask Lenny
the truck driver

to haul some cargo.

Haul some Persian
carpets maybe.

And maybe Lenny got a look
at what he was really lugging.

He took 'em to an expert to see
exactly what he had.

What he still has.

Until he unloads 'em,
which could be right now.

We got find Lenny
and his truck.

Lucky for us, we have the
weight of the FBI behind us.

Come on, B.Y.U.

If you want to throw
some weight around,

now's the time.

It's nice, all our kids
playing so well together.

It's called a
citizen broadcast.

We set it up with
DHS after 9/11.

Pretty much puts us into contact
with every private company

on the road-- UPS, FedEx,
trucking companies.

All eyes on the road
become our eyes.

Like CB radio
on steroids.

What's a CB radio?

I was joking.

Got something!

Driver spotted...

suspect Wesson going eastbound

in a green Peterbilt semi
on Route 164.

What are you doing?

Busted a dozen arms exchanges
from Honduras to Salia,

and by definition,
both sides are armed,

which makes
everyone paranoid.

Still not following
why you turned off the road.

Because most of these things,
in my experience,

take place in public,
hiding in plain sight.

Oh, and if you want to hide
a truck in plain sight,

there's one obvious place
to do it.

Plate's a match.

Special Agent McQuaid,
requesting backup--

truck stop at mile
marker one-two-five.

Confirming mile marker
one-two-five.

Sending backup.

Anybody in the market for a rug?

I was imagining something
with a little more pop.

From the looks of it, somebody
already took the guns.

Lenny Wesson?

Hey!

Oh, crap!

Get down!

Grab him!

There's another one out there!

It's all good! It's all good!

You okay?

Yeah?

Yeah. I'm good.

Looks like we got
the rest of the shipment.

I guess we should thank you.

You helped us
flush out some gunrunners

that we were
looking for.

Course they wouldn't have guns
to run, were it not for you.

Not to mention the murder
of Michael Newbury.

Mike who?

I don't know what y'all
are talking about.

I didn't even know there was
any guns in that truck.

Your saliva and prints
are all over that bottle.

You were smart enough to take it
from the crime scene,

but stupid enough to leave it
with the body.

You served under Newbury,
for a whole tour.

He invites you into his home
and then you kill him.

Why?

W...

We were supposed to be brothers.

All of us.

And they go on...
to contracting jobs

and consultant gigs.

A bunch of them are working
for Ceressus now,

and they're living
the good life.

But a rising tide didn't lift
all boats.

You fell on harder times.

Yeah, I was always
the idiot kid brother.

Okay?

Finally, I get a score.

I brought the guns to Newbury
because I knew he knew guns.

It's great
to see you, man.

And at first he was happy
to help.

Hey, uh, you mind taking a look
at something?

Sure, what do you got?

Nice, huh?

You want a beer?

All right.

But as soon as he got his hands
on them guns,

his whole mood changed.

Lenny...

these guns were stolen
from the military.

This is serious trouble.

I'll tell you what.

I'll return them for you.

Anonymously.

Okay?

I had bills to pay.

Take this.

They all got
their golden ticket.

Well, these guns were mine.

They weren't your guns, Lenny.

They were stolen.

We know you were just
a middleman.

Who threw you
the driving gig?

Was it another
ex-Ranger?

Someone from
Ceressus?

You think I'm a rat?

We know that Ceressus
is implicated;

we just want to know how far up
the ladder it goes.

Yeah, well, you know so much...

what do you need me for?

We need someone to say it
in court.

You cooperate,

maybe we could shave a few years
off your sentence.

Years?

Years?

If I tell you everything...

everyone involved...

I want immunity.

Immunity?

Protection from-from-from
it all.

You killed a man,
Lenny.

You put those guns
out on the street.

Immunity?

Forget it.
That's not going to happen.

Actually...

it is.

If you can give us the names
of all of your contacts

and it turns into
something substantial.

Wh-What are you doing?

- You can't decide...
- Yes, we can.

Good.

I'm sorry,
I gotta pull rank here.

I'm going to
need a lawyer

to draw up the papers before
I say a single word to y'all.

Okay.

Whatever you need.

Why the change in venue?

Well, this interview is a little
less informal than our last.

Am I under suspicion
for something?

No. I mean,
not you specifically.

Yet.

This is the beginning
of an official inquiry

of Ceressus.

We just wanted to give you

the courtesy
of letting you know.

And the opportunity to get on
the record sooner than later.

Courtesy?

Is that what this is?

Look, I know you have free rein
on your global turf,

but somebody in your outfit
brought those guns into mine

and I want some answers.

We're gonna need
of the men involved

in that gun theft and then

we're going to want access
to all of your personnel files.

I'm not giving you anything
but politeness.

To be honest with you, I'm
running out of that fast.

Yeah. Mr. Gabriel...

If you want to make
demands of me,

have your boss's
boss call me.

Otherwise, I'm done here.

Actually, you know what?.

There's one more thing.

What's that?

You see, all these guns
that are now Stateside

have to go back to the troops
in Afghanistan.

You know, given
your resources,

and your patriotism...

That's going to cost me
a half a million dollars.

Oh, at least.

Thanks for your time.

Your daughter is beautiful.

She is, isn't she?

I'm jealous.

Jealous?

Laura, look at you.

The good life, the
billionaire husband.

You got it all.

So how is your mom?

Laura...

...why are you here?

To catch up,
just like we talked about.

Which has been great.
Really.

But...

I just have this feeling.
that there's something

you want to say.

Is it about Mark?

'Cause I saw the way
he talked to you.

Does he hurt you?

No. No, he doesn't.

It's not...

I heard something.

By accident.

What was it?

Okay, this is just me
being jet-lagged.

I'm sorry.
I should go.

But listen, um,

it's been so nice
seeing you again.

Hey, hang on.

I just want to make sure you
have all my numbers, okay?

Uh...

Okay.

So I want you to call me
if you need anything.

And I mean anything.

Is there a reason you wrote this
on the back of a lawyer's card?

Random coincidence.

Coincidentally,
he's a good lawyer.

He's Sam's guy.

I think you might need that.

Okay. Thanks.

Okay. Thank you.

All right. Bye.

Oh.

Did you guys have
a good conversation?

How long have you been
standing outside my house?

Not important.

I...

The thing is...

...I'm here--
my foot in the door,

my hat in hand,

a bottle in the other.

It's beer.
It's Belgian.

You know, guns aren't the only
thing they, uh, they make.

I'd like to apologize.

About the whole Lenny of it all.

I blindsided you, and...

It sucked.

Yeah, it sucked.

But it's the job.

I have a job, too.

And you did it
kind of perfectly.

You got the guns back,
by way of vultures,

and garbage bags
and whatnot.

By "whatnot" you mean
saving your ass.

I do.

But the thing is,

I had to cut a deal with Wesson.

And I would do it again.

This isn't much of an apology.

But if I did it again,
I would tell you beforehand.

You deserve that.

At least that.

Maybe more.

Willows.

McQuaid.

Lenny Wesson died en route
to a federal holding facility.

- How?
- Heart attack.

Heart attack?
He was 37 years old.

How did he die of
a heart attack?

We need to run a tox panel.

You won't find anything.

What, you think that Mark
Gabriel is covering his tracks?

I do, and I think he's
really good at it.

Okay, so that's it?

No, we gotta do something.

No, you guys did your job--

the guns are
off the street.

I think this is our
responsibility.

Agent McQuaid and myself
are due back at Quantico.

It's back to square one.

It's been a real honor.

Great work.
Thank you.

Wait, whoa, wait,
hold it a second.

I got a little going
away present for you.

Is that a mushroom?

Hericium erinaceus.

"Lion's mane."

It improves cognitive function
and promotes well-being.

I like just a little thin slice
on my toast in the morning.

Thanks.

I think.

Uh...

you sure you're
not just trying

to ruin my drug screening?

No, no.

You should be all right
with that, I think.

Yeah, pretty sure.

CSI Willows,

it has been, uh, a real
pleasure working with you.

Likewise, Agent McQuaid.

Good luck with the new job
and everything.

Stay away from badges.

I tell my daughter
every morning,

"If he wears a badge,
he's wrong for you."

really?

And what if your wife's father
had told her the same thing?

Actually, he did.

See you tomorrow.

Regular time.