All language subtitles for NCIS.Los.Angeles.S09E21.HDTV.X264-LOL.en

Once you clock in,
you're on my time.

- Okay.
- No iPacks. No Beats by Bey.

No Snapflipping
your who-knows-what

to your God-knows-who.

I don't know what
any of that means.

- Personal life stays outside.
- Oh. Fair enough.

You 20-somethings come in here
thinking you have problems.

I'm 32.

I got two kids in high school,
a dog with OCD,

and a husband that recently
decided to take up Latin.

Now, that's a problem.

Do you think we should cover
departmental procedures?

Do you think
I look like a handbook?

Well, I just figured you'd be
giving a rundown of the job.

What do you think I'm doing?

Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry.

Oh.

Third floor's Physical Therapy.

- Never let 'em get dirt on you.
- Oh, uh,

does that mean we need
to sterilize first?

Oh, that means those hens
can stretch the truth

more than a hamstring.

You gonna write
this down?

Uh, yes...

ICU? Don't even
get me started.

Think less McSteamy,
more McFrumpy.

God, this place
is creepy.

Who works down here?

Oh, wait. Let me guess.

McLives With Their Mothers?

Show some respect.

Yeah, absolutely. I will.

There you are, handsome.

♪ NCIS: LA 9x21 ♪
Where Everybody Knows Your Name
Original Air Date on

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Oh, my God.

We're late.

Zelda is the princess!

Eric, costume party

on a school night?

Such a bad idea.

All your fault.
Hey, hey, hey,

we're not late, we're not late.

- It's just a reminder.
- A reminder?

Of what?

- That I'm gonna die.
- Ooh,

this headache
is all the reminder I need.

Hold on. I'm
just processing

what you said now,
and I'm left with one question:

what the hell
are you talking about?

Can We Kick It?

Well, of course we can.

No. I mean, yes. But no.

It's this new app that I have.

It's called Can We Kick It?

And it reminds me
three times a day

that the end is nigh.

Oh, God. You
need a reminder

that the world is
coming to an end?

I thought that's
what Twitter was for.

I figure we're
intellectuals, right?

We live in our heads.
We get paid to analyze things,

almost to the point
of exhaustion.

Ugh. Leaving us
swimming in a pool

of our own anxiety
and self-despair.

Yeah, I'm following.

We spend so much time thinking,
it prevents us from doing.

- Hmm.
- This reminds me

to change that.
- Aha.

The Grand Gamer's Garment Gala.

Exactly. I've skipped it every
year for the past five years.

And for what?

So that I could sleep more?

We're gonna die.

We might as well live our
lives while we still can.

It's time.
Yeah, it's time.

- Let's carpe Diem this thing.
- No, um,

that's my actual alarm.
If we're not at work

in an hour, we won't need
a mortality reminder.

Hetty will kill us.

Great. Move, move,
move, move, move.

You're right.

About what?
I didn't say anything.

We should have a live band
at the wedding.

Thought you said
you couldn't bear the idea

of a wedding singer
butchering Air Supply.

Yeah. And you said that
"Even the Nights Are Better"

was an assault to your eardrums.
Ha!

Well, it's like being
in a fever dream where it's 1985

and I'm trapped
at a Sandals.

Point is, we both said
things we didn't mean.

Oh, I meant it. Switch.

Another thing--

chocolate fountain?

I'm into it.

Oh, so now you're okay
working for your food?

Not only am I okay with it,
I think the combination of

endless champagne and a
waterfall of hot mocha lava...

makes total sense.

What are you doing?

I call this the Fosse's
Revolt. Get to know it.

No, no, no. What-what is
all this change of heart

about everything?

#Truth?

#Yeah.
Okay.

Baby, I want a bar.

- Like-like you want to go to a bar?
- No, I want

to bring a bar to me.

Moreover, I want
to bring a bar to-to us.

I mean, think
about this.

This is the American dream.
Like, you love hot appetizers,

I love a good dive.
Right. Yeah.

In case you hadn't noticed, Guy
Fieri, we can't afford a bar.

See, that's your first mistake.

You got to think
about this less as an expense

and more as an
investment opportunity.

Ah. An investment opportunity.

You know what, you're right.

We'll have the wedding.
Right?

And then we'll buy a bar.
Right?

And while we're at it,
how do you feel

about lake houses?
I feel like

they bring out the best in me,

'cause I get to wear
my short shorts.

Yes. Okay,
so we'll build one of those,

and then we can get Air Supply
to come to the ribbon cutting.

That was all sarcasm.

Yeah.

Yeah. Great.

Uh, back to the bar.

Is this a bad time to tell you

I've already scouted out
a few locations?

Cool! Good talk.

"Pull over
for a pour-over"?

It's alliteration.

It's an abomination.

Change is good.
Change is necessary.

There is nothing necessary
about having

an overcaffeinated teenager
tell you to "be well"

at 7:00 in the morning.

What happened?
You forgot his birthday?

New coffee shop

replaced his favorite
hole-in-the-wall.

Ah. There goes the neighborhood.

You, too, Mosley?

I'm surrounded by Nimbys.

Well, somebody took over
my local greasy spoon.

Now, when I walk in,

I'm accosted
by subway tiles

while four guys named Geoff
with a "G"

ask me how I want
to "rock my eggs."

You know what,
you both should learn to adapt.

Trust me,
you'll be better for it.

The only way I'm gonna adapt

is if I buy a Fiat
and learn how to pout.

I'm pretty sure
you just need the Fiat.

Hello?

How could I forget?

I will have to get back to you
on that one.

Okay then.

That was

Agent Zoe Morris,

the FBI's shining new star.

Oh. The genetic hybrid
between, uh...

Clarice
Starling and Tinker Bell?

Mm-hmm.

What does she want with us?

They have a dead body.

Former Marine.

They are offering
to work the case together.

A joint
task force. Well,

FBI isn't normally
the communal sandbox type.

Well, their reputation's
been taking

a few hits lately. Maybe
they're trying to play nice.

Well,
then maybe they should play

on our playground.

Have her meet you
at the boatshed.

Ooh. I know a place on the way.

And it only takes one
person to pour the coffee.

Be well, be well.

I only listen to three people,

you sorry son of a bastard.

Me,

my mom, and the Honorable

Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

So the only way this ends

is you in handcuffs. I mean,

long story short,
that's how I took down

the other Butcher
of Bakersfield.

Props to me.

She takes tax evasion
very seriously.

You know, it seems
like just yesterday

you were standing in the way
of our investigation.

Ah. Well, I took an oath,
gentlemen.

Mm.

But, for reals,
I hope we're cool.

We'll see about that.

Why don't you tell us
about the case.

There's not much to tell.

The dead Marine?

I still don't have a name
for him.

Well, how'd he die?

Hell if I know.

Millennials.

So much talking,
so little actually said.

- I'm starting to see your point.
- Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.

I'm a little uneasy
on the water.

Long story short,
almost drowned

as a kid saving my brother
from a lazy river.

I wrote a blog about it.
I can send you the post.

- Hard pass. Mm-hmm.
- Okay.

So, I just came
from the morgue.

They've got a John
Doe they found

on the streets of
Hollywood two days ago.

Now, the morgue's
backed up,

so M.E. hasn't done
the autopsy yet. But...

I think he was
a Marine exposed

to some kind of
chemical nerve agent.

Ah. And how do you know
about this?

Let's just say I have a connect.
Mm-hmm.

Why don't we go take a look.

You're in?

This is perf.

Did you hear that?

It's perf.

Yeah, it is. It's perf, G.

This is perf.
It's perf.

Are you okay? What happened?

The body.

They took him.

All right,
so let me get this straight.

You're telling me that when
you were here last night...

Technically, it was early this
morning. I don't need

much sleep.
M-My mom says

it's gonna make me age
faster, but I'm like,

"Fine lines? Bring it.
This is who I am."

Right. So,
when you were here

earlier this morning, there was
a John Doe under that sheet.

Yeah. With a big-ass Semper
Fi tattoo on his shoulder.

Let me tell you, whoever did it,
not known for his fine line.

Uh, so then the medical examiner
on duty was drugged, gagged,

and left for dead
in that gurney drawer.

You are officially
in the know.

- Zoe, what have you gotten us into?
- Hmm?

You know what, Agent Hanna,
you are so welcome.

I told you
this was a case.

Oh, it's something.

Okay, fine. We're in.

- Yes.
- We'll take that sheet down to our lab.

We'll have it tested.

We will see
if there's any residues

of the chemical that you think
may have killed him.

Think may have
killed him?

Let me just remind you
that, when he died,

he looked like the love
child of Nick Nolte

and the creature
from Stranger Things.

We should get that photo
to Eric and Nell.

- Have 'em run it through facial rec.
- Yeah.

And send any personal effects
to NCIS.

Okay.

It's gonna be tough
to find this guy

if we don't know who he is.

No kidding.

Personally, I
love a challenge.

Good news.

This is sad.

This is so sad.

Maybe he was a huge
Marie Kondo fan.

That just makes me even sadder.

Our John Doe has

no I.D., no debit cards
and no credit cards.

So he was robbed.

Or he preferred cash.
A lot of people do.

Yeah, those that are dealing
drugs, arms or lemonade.

No keys, so probably
no house or car.

He was a staunch supporter
of public transportation.

He preferred the bus.

He wore jeans
and a plain white T-shirt.

Man with a timeless
sense of style.

He has no jewelry,
no watch and no ring.

So he's a free spirit.

He didn't want to be bogged down
by love or time of day.

- What?
- "What?" No.

You don't get to "what."
We get to "what."

I can "what" if
I want to "what."

Yes. "What" all you want,
but you sound wack.

What?

Seriously?
Seriously?

Okay, guys, listen, we
don't know who this guy is,

but if he was a Marine,
then I am

rooting for him the whole
way, which means that

until we know details,
I'm filling in the blanks

in the best way possible.
Simple as that.

Well, whoever he was,

he's very lucky
to have you on the case.

Thank you.

Found something.

What you got?

It's a napkin for...
a coffee truck off of Figueroa.

I'll drive.

Shotgun!
Seriously?

You'll understand why
when you ride in the backseat.

Not pretty.
Hey!

- I just think she's a terrible driver.

There's a way you can
get two seat belts on.

Probably your best bet.

You're such a jerk.

There were two
of them, so,

I wa-- I was, I was
totally outnumbered.

Uh, and they-they were...

they were huge.
Mm-hmm.

Which is-- phew--
like, the only reason

why I ended up in the...
drawer.

I don't even... I don't

know if you could
have taken 'em.

Is that so?

So what else do you remember
about these guys?

Not much, to be honest.

Um, they both had ski masks.

Any idea

how they got down here?

No. I was listening to my jams.

You know?
Your jams?

Yeah, my jams. I was getting
in my embalming groove.

You were in
your embalming groove?

Yeah. So, I...

I didn't actually
hear anyone come in.

Okay. This is going nowhere.
Fine. I'll do it.

I'll honeypot myself.

It doesn't work
if you call it that.

Watch and learn,
gentlemen.

Sounds like we're gonna
watch and learn here.

Scoot, scoot.

This'll be
interesting.

Hi, Corey.

What up, girl?

Hmm.

I really love what
you did with your hair.

Super cute, right?
Yeah.

It's a little business down
below, a little party up top.

- Okay.
- Okay. You know what?

We're going to, uh, we're
gonna take it from here.

So what else can you tell us

about these big,
scary masked men?

To be clear, I
never said "scary."

Well, to be clear,
your face did.

Uh...

Oh...

They had accents, sir.

Spanish accents.

You did good.
Real good.

But dude, you need

to stop creating fake profiles
and stalking me online.

I-- no, that would,
I would never...

I would never!
That's not...

There was nothing.

Zoe, okay, it's completely
harmless, though.

I swear. I swear it was.

Yeah, okay.
Come on, boys. We're done here.

I think I prefer Arkady.

EAD Mosley.
What are you doing here?

- Agent Callen, Agent Hanna.
- Hey.

And you must be FBI
Agent Zoe Morris.

You probably recognize me
from the FBI homepage.

I get that a lot.
That's not it.

- No?
- No. I just got off the phone

with your special agent
in charge.

Oh.

Is there an issue?

Not only is
Agent Morris

working an unsanctioned
FBI case,

she's convinced
the two of you

to go rogue with her.

You got to be kidding me.

Unbelievable.

So I would say "yes."

There's a bit of an issue.

I can explain.

- Can you?
- Because it's

pretty cut and dry from
where we're standing.

You have to understand.

It's not my fault.

Okay. I'm-I'm out of here.

No, fine.

Fine, fine, fine.
It's kind of my fault.

Okay, whatever.
I take full

responsibility.
Blame the victim.

But just at least
let me explain.

- You have one minute.
- Okay.

So, a few weeks ago, the FBI
received an anonymous tip

that someone was moving
a large quantity of carfentanil

from China through
the Port of Los Angeles.

Carfentanil's a
synthetic opioid.

It's 100 times more
potent than fentanyl.

Yeah, it puts
law enforcement

at risk just by touching it.

And if you have enough of it,

carfentanil is just
as destructive as nerve gas.

What does the carfentanil
have to do with our John Doe?

Maybe nothing.

But I asked Corey to let me know
if any bodies came into

the morgue that showed signs
of opioid overdose.

John Doe came in,
Corey called me.

He calls me a lot.

We really need
to have the friend talk.

Okay.

Oh, wait. He said
that John Doe had

pinpoint pupils,
and his face was jacked up.

And I thought, "Shazam."

But surprise, surprise.
Nobody at the FBI

was interested, so I went
to the morgue myself.

Okay. And then
someone came back

and stole the body
a few days later.

I know I lied, but I did it
with a clear conscience.

Is she serious
right now?

- Yes, I am.
- She's for real.

And so is this case.

Okay, I think
I've heard enough.

Take her to
the boatshed.

My thoughts exactly.

You give me a ride
back to Ops?

Of course.

You two have fun.

G? Come on, G.

Phew. I'm glad
that's over. Now,

your thoughts on Meghan Markle's
wedding gown. Go.

It's a bold choice.

I respect it.

Oh, that's what
I'm talking about.

Cold brews on me
all around.

I'll take mine
with some steamed Dramamine.

How may I help you?

Hi. I'm Special
Agent Kensi Blye,

NCIS. This is my partner,

Agent Hidoko and
LAPD Detective Deeks.

Oh, that bastard.
Excuse me?

Is this about
the health inspection last week?

The what?
No. Should it be?

Because those rat feces
were not ours.

Uh...
I hope not.

Poop from a... what?

I don't want poop in my coffee.

I'm telling you, that weasel
of an inspector planted them.

Yeah, we can get
drinks someplace else.

We're on the clock.

Yeah, um, awkward
segue, but I need

to show you a somewhat
disturbing picture.

Well, can't be worse
than rat feces.

Uh, you,

you might want to stop saying
"feces" and "rat."

Yeah. Do you
recognize this man?

Oh, my God. What happened?

That's what we're trying to
find out. Do you know him?

Of course. That's Gabe.

He's here almost every day.

Is he okay?

I'm sorry to have
to tell you this,

but Gabe is dead.

Oh...

Do you know Gabe's last name?

Uh... no.

Not even from a credit card?

Uh, he always paid with a fiver,
let me keep the change.

Nicest man.

Do you know what
he did for work?

Uh, handyman, I think.

Random odd jobs,
that sort of thing.

He, uh, lived around the corner,

and when our chairs
were falling apart,

he fixed them
in his apartment.

So, we're gonna
need that address.

Of course, yeah.

Zoe's a crafty one, isn't she?

Crafty is one word for it.

So she played you?

Uh, she lied.

Semantics.

The case was presented as
a joint task force with the FBI.

You don't think
that's a problem?

Oh, no. I do.

But?
But,

I'd be remiss if I didn't remind
you that you've done the same.

Hetty...

Multiple times, I might add.

Look, I just don't think

we should be partnering
with her, that's all.

Well, it's difficult
to meet someone

who reminds you of yourself.
I know.

Zoe Morris and I
have nothing in common.

You wouldn't have done the same
thing in the same situation?

Not likely.

I see.

And what if you'd been

in Anna's situation?

Excuse me.
We just got the lab results

back on the sheet
that was covering the John Doe.

I think you're gonna want
to see this.

Your ride's here.

- Frederick.
- Come on.

And you know I prefer "Fred."

I prefer your support
when pursuing a case.

Zoe, you know
I can't do that.

You're the agent
who cried wolf.

Ah. That's good.

So what if

I chase down
the occasional dead end?

So that costs money.
You think every tip

is a lead, and every
lead is a case.

You're still green. You
don't have instincts yet.

No. This time,
her instincts were spot-on.

Who are you?

Agent Callen.

This is Frederick.

It's just Fred.
Fred Munger, FBI.

I could tell by the suit.

What's going on?

Lab results are in.

The residue
on the sheet confirms

that our John Doe was,
in fact, exposed

to large amounts
of carfentanil.

Did you say carfentanil?

- I did.
- Oh, you're interested now?

Well, then, given
the fact that

this case originated
with the FBI,

we, of course, would be
happy to continue working it

with NCIS, so long as
we continue to run point.

Oh, no, he didn't.

I think he just did.

Listen, uh,

thanks for coming by, Frederick.
- It's just Fred.

Oh, yeah, well...

Fred, uh, there's no way

the FBI is taking
the lead on this.

Besides, we already have

a joint task force here.

Agent Morris is all
the help we need.

Really?

Totes!

Yes!

Hang in there, Freddie.

This is awesome.

- High five.
Okay.

This is where our John Doe
Gabe lived, apparently.

You guys take the top.
I've got down here.

All right.

See what I see?

Yeah.
Federal agent!

He's gonna
run. And he ran.

They never listen.

Federal agents!

Shortcut. Ooh, shnikes.

Whoa, Nellie,
Nellie, Nellie, Nellie.

Nice work.

Yeah, well, my shoulder
just called me an idiot.

And you, huh?
Oh.

How did you think
this was gonna end?

Oh, well, you see, I
actually didn't know

that you were talking to me.

You see, I like
to run to my car.

- It's kind of been my thing since I was a...
- Mm-hmm.

...a kid that could drive.

Shotgun.

Son of a bitch!

Oh, that's it.

Permanently damaged
my serving shoulder.

Ugh, please don't take the bait.

It's the, uh, shoulder I will
be throwing a towel over

while I ask Schmitty
if he'd like another.

Who's Schmitty?

I don't know yet.
But I'm buying a bar,

and I'm imagining
that every bar

comes with a regular
named Schmitty.

I see that
you've gone public

- with your latest business venture.
- Oh, yes.

Very public.
And let's not forget the time

that he also went public
with the idea

to launch
a French running class.

Okay, just to be
clear, this was not a class

that taught you how to
run like the French.

This is a class
that taught you

how to speak French
while running.

Two birds, one stone.

Genius idea.
Genius idea.

Genius idea.
Much better than that, uh,

oak tree farm he scouted in Idaho.

Man, those acorns are
begging to be milked. -

Weren't you gonna be a
weekend docent at LACMA?

Who doesn't want to spend
their Sunday saying "rococo"?

Okay, you know
what, the point is,

there's been a lot before, and
there'll be a lot more after.

A greatest hits
of greatest misses.

Uh, speaking of
greatest hits.

Schmitty would never
be this mean to me.

Maybe it's time we find out

what our guy was doing

- at John Doe's apartment.
- Mm-hmm.

Hmm, here's what I'm thinking.

Sam, you go in as good cop.

I mean, look at you.

He'll eat it up.
And I swoop in as bad cop,

because, you know, duh.

And Callen,

we'll call you if we need you.

You brought us this case
under false pretenses.

- Well...
- As a rogue agent.

Long story short, we'll
take it from here.

That's a better plan than mine.

I'll just stay here.
We'll just hang out.

Watch and...

Oh, hey.

Please, please, gentlemen,
show some mercy.

My-my brother is sick,
and if I'm not home to give him

his medicine, he-he'll die.

We read your file.

You're an only child.

That's the real tragedy.

It was such a lonely childhood.

And now
I'm a lonely adult.

A roamer. A wanderer.

I don't even know
how I got into that apartment.

You picked the lock.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I didn't.

The important thing
is that this was supposed to be

my last job. One big farewell.

My pièce de résistance.

You speak French.
And he's a runner.

- It's too bad he's retiring.
- Yeah. And he's going to prison.

You assaulted an officer.

Combine that
with breaking and entering,

you're looking at
at least minimum ten years.

Mm-hmm.

And that's before the murder.

Murder? I Di...
I didn't murder anyone.

I am a lover,

not a fighter.
Hmm.

Well, the apartment you were in

was owned by a man
who was killed.

In fact, his body was stolen
from the morgue.

Stealing dead bodies?

I am not into that.

Look, someone

stole drugs from my boss,

so he sent me to the apartment
to find them.

Then I will need to know
your boss's name.

Raul.

Villaseñor.

He's not gonna find out
I told you, right?

Not if you tell us
where we can find him.

He owns a nursery
in Glassell Park.

Plants, not, uh, babies.
Place like that

is constantly ordering
chemical supplies.

Wouldn't be hard
to hide the carfentanil.

Can I, uh,
make a phone call?

I have, uh, three kids,

and they miss their-their dad
when I'm not home for...

Great.

Doesn't make any sense.
Tell me about it.

I minored in art history.
Can we just skip to the part

where we're both
on the same page?

I mean, I've studied the
greatest paintings on earth,

and I've never even been
to the Sistine Chapel

or to Spain to see the Prado.

Your death alarm
really got me thinking.

Hmm.

Okay, I prefer to think of it
as a life reminder,

but I'm listening.

It's just I've put off so much
for this job.

What if I run out of time?

Hey, hey, you won't.

We got plenty of time.

How about this.

What do you say we go to Spain?

Huh?
Hmm.

I certainly hope

you'll help us
solve this case

before you leave.

Hetty. Um, allow me
to introduce you

to our John Doe,

Gabe Schroeder.
Uh-huh.

What's his background?

Um, German, I believe.

- Oh, Berlin. Add that to the list.
- Oh, yeah.

No, Mr. Beale,

his military background.

Right.

Um,

Schroeder was a
Marine squad leader

in Operation Phantom Fury.

Second Battle of Fallujah,

the heaviest urban combat
the Marines have ever seen.

He was injured

trying to rescue four of his men

during an insurgent attack.

Two of them didn't make it.

Says here that he's been
in and out of rehab ever since.

A string of odd jobs
and a whole lot of debt.

- It's a sad but familiar tale.
- Wow.

His last gig was working
security for Raul's nursery.

I'm sorry, but how
does this happen?

I mean,
he's a decorated war veteran

who died with nothing.

No friends, no family.

No community.
Hmm.

Not even his
own identity.

But thanks to you two,
he now has his name.

And his story will be told.

It's up to you to figure
out with which ending.

Oh, and Ms. Jones, let me know
when you make it to Spain.

I have a villa in Majorca that
I believe will inspire you.

It's what kept Pablo from
another blue period.

Huh.

Did-did she mean?

She always does.

Yeah.

Holy smokes.

A Rose of Sharon
should not cost 80 bucks.

Maybe they got
a cheaper version.

Like a Rose of Tammie,
for, like, seven.

Workplace romance.

I had one of those once.

Summer of 2012.

We were young college students
trying to make ends meet.

I worked register.

He worked inventory.

Oh. What happened?

Long story short,
I had to hog-tie him

in the middle of
an Office Depot parking lot.

Caught him trying to steal
a crate of printer ink.

That tracks.

Held him at bay
with a staple gun

until the authorities arrived.

I'll never forget him.

- The one that couldn't get away.
- Hmm.

Yeah.

Heads up. Follow my lead.

That should make
everyone nervous.

Oh, no.

Oh, that just broke.

Are you okay?
What happened?

Sorry.
It's just, we are building a garden,

gets really overwhelmed
with everything.

Well, you're in
the right place for that.

- Maybe I can help.
- Uh, yeah,

I just recently,
I got my-my paws

on some very
promising seeds.

And I think once we
plant those suckers,

we are guaranteed to
feast like royalty.

Sounds like a good start.

As you know, we are
in the middle of a drought.

Uh, honey, scientists agree
the drought is nearly over.

Honey, I think
scientists would agree

that your drought
is just beginning.

Well, that suck...

Succulents!
Great for gardens,

great for droughts.
I'll show you.

Great. Fantastic.
You can just clean up

all the broken stuff.
Yeah.

How we doing back there?

There's no sign of Raul
or the carfentanil.

Well, guessing this truck's
been here for days.

We should track it anyway.

That carfentanil is a threat
to public safety.

And this might be
our only chance

of getting to Raul.

Yeah. Consider it done.

Hey.

Perfect timing,
gentlemen.

Hidoko, go ahead.

Raul Villaseñor. On paper,

he seems like an above-board
plant and garden business owner.

Everybody looks good on paper
until they get caught.

Or maybe Victor's telling
the truth for a change.

- Yeah.
- Maybe Schroeder

stole Raul's carfentanil
so he could sell it.

Got himself killed
in the process.

He owed a lot of
people a lot of money.

Carfentanil fetches
top dollar on the streets.

It would make a lot of problems
go away.

Well, he's got no family,
no close friends.

There's nothing to lose.

It wouldn't be that much
of a stretch.

Oh.

This is interesting.

So Schroeder always made
his paychecks out to cash,

but last week
the bank cut him a check.

Payable to whom?

A storage facility in Hollywood.

Now, that's a place
to hide the goods.

Send the address to our phones.

Will do.

We've got company.

Federal agents!

You catch that
duffel bag?

Must have been the carfentanil.

Eric, I got a BMW
I need you to track.

Looks like Schroeder
was living here.

He must have been
hiding from Raul.

Or hiding drugs.

He did take the drugs,

but instead of selling
the carfentanil,

he sat on the product.

Schroeder was keeping the drugs
off the street.

That's why he stole it
in the first place.

He probably tipped off the FBI.

They dragged their feet,
so he took matters

into his own hands.
The only problem was,

he didn't realize
how dangerous it was.

His body was found
on Sunset and Vermont.

That's two blocks away
from the hospital.

He was probably
trying to get there.

Yeah, he wasn't murdered.

Exposure to the carfentanil

slowly poisoned his body.

He fell on his own sword.

Honorable till the end.
Yeah.

Now the poison that killed
him is gonna go wide.

A lot of people are gonna die.

Recognize anyone?

Never seen them in my life.

But are you sure there's not
a photo missing?

Positive.

Your boss Raul is on the run.

He knows you turned on him.

And if he
finds you, I can't say

you're gonna be as lucky
as your friends.

But we may be able
to help you. That is,

if you tell us
where he's taking the drugs.

Raul's a businessman.

Plants, drugs, anything
that can make him money.

Cut to the chase.

He's opening a restaurant.

Some warehouse downtown.

We did a drop there
for him last week.

How about an address?
I don't know.

I'm not from L.A. Everything
down there looks the same.

You're from Boyle Heights.

I don't know where it is.

I was just a passenger.

You want an exact address,

maybe you shouldn't
have killed the driver.

I mean, every warehouse downtown
is being renovated.

And Nell didn't find
any restaurant license

under Raul's name.

If we don't
find Raul, it's over.

Gabe Schroeder will
have died for nothing,

and I won't be able
to forgive myself.

You're the only reason
we're even close

to the carfentanil.

Yeah, I should have
pushed harder.

I wasted two days while
the FBI just dragged their feet.

Please tell me
you have something for us.

Yeah, I'm searching
all restaurants

and restaurants-to-be
within a four mile radius

of downtown,
so it's gonna take a sec.

Well, that
kind of competition,

Raul's gonna have to be in
the corner handing out flyers

just to stay in business.

Menus.

Or menus,
whatever pops.

No, the truck in the back
of the nursery had menus

under its wipers.

Uh... Oy Gevalt.

Come on. You're so close.
You can do this.

No, that was the name
of the Jewish deli.

Oh.

There was, uh...
Panini For Your Thoughts.

Super clever.

And one more...

Um... something to do with poké.

I'm Okay, You're Poké.

That's it.

Okay. Searching now.

Okay. The three restaurants

are on the same block
in the Arts District.

So Raul's place must be nearby.

Worth a shot.

You coming?

I thought you'd never ask. Yeah.

That's Raul's BMW.

This must be the place.

Kensi, Deeks, we're going in
front. You two go around back.

Copy that.

I got eyes on Raul.

Federal agents!

Whoa. Take the bag!

Federal agent!
Drop your weapon!

He's coming. He's coming!

Raul's making
a run for it.

Cover me.

SUV's headed in your direction.

Ready?

Federal agents!

Out of the car!

Slowly.

Drop the bag!
Drop it!

Drop it now!

Drop the bag!

Zoe, move!

Found Gabe Schroeder.

Raul had his men, uh,

steal the body
to cover the evidence.

He's in the restaurant.

He didn't deserve
to die like this.

You're right.

He doesn't belong here.

Then let's find a place worthy
of a Marine.

Fire!

Fire! Fire!

Order arms.

Thank you.

Hey, uh, uh...

Hey, I just wanted
to say thank you.

It was really cool of you guys
to let me stay on the case,

even after I left out
relevant information.

You mean even after you
straight-up lied to us?

To our faces.
With no shame at all.

Guys,

we were having a moment.

- It was like a real...
- Yeah?

Yeah, I'm sorry. Yeah.

Anytime you have
anything, call us.

How's that?
That sounds perf...

...ect. Perfect.
Perfect.

Okay.

All right.

Anybody else need a drink?
Yeah.

Yes.

Hell yes.
In.

Me, too.
Hetty?

Do they serve whiskey
older than you?

Huh. I didn't think so.

Okay, kids, have fun.

Thanks.

- Don't do anything I wouldn't do.
- Bye-bye.

- Rain check, then.
- Yeah.

Bye, ladies.

Where to?

I know just the place.
And I promise

you guys are gonna love it.

Interesting.

All right, hold your applause

until we get some candles lit.

- Can you help me with that?
- Yeah.

Some lighters
right there.

- Don't say anything.
- Okay.

I need to get
the ambiance.

So, what do you think?
Uh...

Huh?
Well,

definitely never
been here before.

Yeah, that's because
it's been condemned.

You know, I got some
pretty simple tastes,

but this is...

I don't know what this is.

I think it's a bomb shelter.

It's warm.
Yeah.

That's 'cause the refrigerator's
not running, or HVAC,

or any electricity,
for that matter.

Hence why we're all looking
at each other over candlelight.

Mm, well,

not much of a
bomb shelter.

Sweetie,
my moon, my stars,

where have you taken us?

Well, my sugar bear,

we, uh...

we're at our bar.

Huh?

I'm sorry, you paid
money for this?

Well, I guess you can't
take it with you.

Remember that Ethercoin
I bought?

It went back up?

Oh, it went back up.

Oh.
Not that I had to use it

for the bar, because the, uh,
person that owns this place

is letting me take it
for a spin.

Oh, my God,
this is serious.

You're not just making
some fleeting plan again.

I mean, think about today.
Think about Gabe Schroeder.

There are literally hundreds
of Gabe Schroeders out there

just looking for a place to hang
their hat once in a while.

You know?

Like a place to see
a familiar face,

and we can give that to 'em.

I mean, hell, we can give
that to ourselves. Right?

Hmm.

Right? Baby?

What?

Why are you not
saying anything?

You're freaking me out.
Baby, talk to me.

You're circling me
like a shark.

Baby, what are you thinking?

- I'm thinking we're buying a bar.
- Really?

What?!

Oh, I thought you were going
a different direction.

I thought for a second,
'cause I...

That's why I brought
everybody here, to protect me

in case you tried to
stab me with a fork.

Deeks, you have a bar.

Uh, correction.
Actually, we have a bar.

Oh, my God!
Yeah!

I think this calls
for a toast.

- Right.
- Yes.

Kens and Deeks, huh?

- I'll drink to that.
- Come on.

Toast, guys. Cheers.

Cheers.

To their, uh,

bomb shelter/bar.

- Hey. To Schmitty!
- Ho-ho!

Oh!
Oh, God.

Ah, that is unfortunately bad.

Eek!
Hold on.

In all seriousness though,

to Gabe.
To Gabe.

To Gabe.
To Gabe.

To Gabe.
To Gabe.

- One more?
- It'll get better the second time around.

Just trust it.

Why would it be any better?

- It isn't better. - No.
- Ugh!

Still bad.

- Not doing that again.
- That did not get better.

I think it got worse.

It's a bit gamey.

Tastes a little bit
like a, like a skunk.

How old are these?

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man