All language subtitles for NCIS.Los.Angeles.S02E11.Disorder.720p.WEB-DL.x264.310MB-Pahe.in

O come let us adore him

O come let us adore him

O come let us adore him

Christ the Lord

All donations go
to our local soup kitchen.

Sure.

- Here you go.
- Happy holidays, thank you.

- Happy holidays.
- Thank you.

- We appreciate it.
- Have a great night.

- Were you off-key?
- No way.

Did you see the wife
adjusting her hair and makeup

as soon as I turned on the camera?

That's nothing. Last year
a guy tried to slip me his screenplay.

- Oh, no.
- Yeah, yeah.

Hey, did we stop
at this house last year?

- No, I don't remember.
- Well, let's try it.

Let's do "Silent Night."

Ready, guys?

Silent night

Holy night

All is calm

What the hell was that?

Come on.

Come on.

- Alice.
- Come on.

Come on, hurry.

Come on, let's go.

Come on.

Please, help me.

Awesome.

Hold on there, little drummer boy.
Let's talk about this.

- Aye, aye, Ebenezer.
- Hetty's never given us anything.

- Why this year?
- Exactly.

She knows I like surprises.

Ever feel like we're struck babysitting
some kid whose parents

won't come and get him?

Sam is like the Grinch
who stole Christmas except for bigger.

Ah, you all have your gifts.

Dare we ask what we did
to deserve this, Hetty?

Rest assured, Mr. Callen,
I never give gifts

unless they perfectly suit
the recipients.

And perfection struck
four times today?

Happy holidays, everyone.

What's everybody doing
for Christmas?

Buy G
as much beer as he can drink.

Explain, please.

I scored two tickets
to the Lakers-Heat.

- Courtside.
- Nice.

Wow, enjoy Kobe and LeBron.

A little jealousy over there,
Deeks?

About you guys, on your man-date,
a little bit.

That's okay, that's okay.
I'll be seeing somebody special.

- Oh, you have a date on Christmas?
- Fact.

More people hook up on
national holidays than any other day.

Look it up.

Where? Player's Almanac?

- How about you?
- Family.

You have family in L. A?

Nope, in, um, Seattle.

Hetty's idea of the perfect gift for me
is a spice rack?

- Nice spice rack.
- If you don't want it, I'll take it.

- No, no, no, that's a nice spice rack.
- I know.

Bought that for her myself.
I bought it for Hetty. Christmas, 2008.

A scented candle?

- It smells like sage.
- Jasmine.

I gave that to Hetty two years ago.

- Same scent?
- Same candle.

- I'll take it.
- What? No, no.

Excuse me, I did not
give that to you. Hand it over.

No, no, you gave it to Hetty,
who gave it to Callen,

who is right now realizing
he has absolutely no use

for a jasmine-scented candle.

I gave those.

Christmas, 2008. l...

I don't believe it.

Cool. Bookends.

- Hetty's a re-gifter.
- Huh.

- Hetty's a re-gifter.
- Ha, ha.

Oh, are you kidding me?
That's what I'm talking about.

That is awesome. Scarf.

Do you know this?
My favorite color.

What?
I gave that to Hetty a year ago.

- It would look better on me.
- Not the point.

- You didn't have to.
- I didn't.

Look, the good news is,

she didn't re-gift that sweater
from last Christmas.

Do you remember with the reindeer
and the snowflakes?

Hey.

That came from me too. Okay?

And maybe she didn't re-gift it
because she liked it.

Yeah.

Or maybe because no one wears
a size extra, extra, extra small but her.

Join me, my friends.

The crime gods
have given us a holiday gift.

Uh, it's from Hetty.

She said she thought
it was the perfect present.

That was me,
three Christmases ago.

Hetty was going
through her goose-hunting phase.

- Nice spice rack.
- I know, I love it.

Meet Lieutenant Lance Talbot.

Recently discharged
Navy intelligence officer.

Why does he look like an extra
from a slasher film?

Well, he tried to revive
one of the victims. So it's not his blood.

The footage is from a group
of Christmas carollers.

They heard gunshots
inside Talbot's house.

According to L.A.P.D.,
he witnessed a shoot-out in his home

that resulted in two men dead.

Why was he discharged?

Post-traumatic stress disorder

he suffered from his deployment
in Afghanistan.

PTSD?

What's a desk jockey like him
doing on the front lines?

During his deployment,
the Defence Intelligence Agency

located a group
of Afghani tribal leaders

willing to work with Americans
against the Taliban.

Taliban found out these leaders
would be marked for death.

Which is why their identities
are highly classified.

Lieutenant Talbot was tasked
with debriefing each one of them.

He knows their names.

If this guy opens his mouth,
the bodies could start piling up.

Who was killed in the shoot-out?

One victim was the Navy corpsman

responsible for administering Talbot's
medication each day.

Ensign Eric Scott.

Now, L.A.P.D. Nailed him
nine years ago for drug possession

but he never did time.

Only family Talbot's
got is an ex-wife

from an annulled marriage
ten years ago.

So the nurse was the one taking care
of him regularly.

The other victim was
John Mancuso.

He's got a history of drub busts.

He's a small-time drug dealer,

but no known connection
to, uh, Lieutenant Talbot.

However,
phone records show regular calls

between Scott and Mancuso
over the past six months.

Are we sure that Talbot's
just a witness?

L.A.P.D. Seems to think so.

He was shot in the hand, but
it could've been a defensive wound.

Put his hand up
to protect himself taking a bullet.

The ER said it was a minor wound.

After being treated,
he was released into police custody.

But as of now, this case is ours.

This case is ours

because NCIS doesn't want him
disclosing classified intel.

Intel that could get our allies
in Afghanistan killed.

We need a forensics report
to determine what really happened.

L.A.P.D. Says it will take
at least three days

for us to get a finalized
crime-scene report.

Three weeks. This time of year,
half of the department's cashing in

on accumulated vacation time.

Does anyone have a ball of string
and duct tape?

That's...

Hold it, please.

Sam is Talbot.
Callen is Scott, the nurse.

Deeks is Mancuso, the drug dealer.

I'm just wondering why I'm the guy
with duct tape on my forehead?

Because it looks good on you.

We're working on bullet trajectories.

Somebody is very official today.

You're still upset
about the spice rack?

I don't run around
giving gifts to just anyone.

It takes a cold-blooded woman
to do me like that.

And you put a lot of thought
into the spice rack and the sweater?

Do you still have
those steak knives I gave you?

- Yes.
- Okay.

- You're visiting family in Seattle, huh?
- Yep.

Interesting.
You've never mentioned them.

You never asked.

- What part of Seattle?
- The west.

That is a direction on a compass,
not a town or suburb.

- You wouldn't know it.
- Yeah, right.

My knowledge of imaginary cities with
imaginary family is, in fact, lacking.

So hey, what are you really doing
for Christmas?

Talbot is sitting at the table.

Scott comes in
to administer his meds as usual.

He uses his own key
to let himself in.

But then Mancuso
arrives unexpectedly.

Scott has a known history
of drug use.

Mancuso's a drug dealer.

Confrontation ensues.

They're both carrying.
They pull out their weapons, open fire.

Chaos breaks out.

Talbot sees his friend
as being threatened.

Lunges at Mancuso.

Mancuso starts firing 9 mm rounds
from his Glock,

hits Scott three times in the torso,

two strays go out the window
and hits Talbot in the hand,

which gives Scott the opening
to aim his Smith and Wesson

.357 for the kill shot.

Scott took three shots to the torso.

He drops down. He bleeds out.

Talbot revived his friend,

which is why he ends up covered
in the nurse's blood and his own.

Right.

But there's an anomaly
that's bugging me.

Scott must have walked
across the room

with three gunshot wounds
to his torso,

in order to execute Mancuso.

I'd say it's a pretty solid chain of events
considering all we had prior to this

was Colonel Mustard
in the study with a candlestick.

The only one who can confirm or deny
the details is Talbot himself.

Let's bring him in.

What? Don't just...

Ouch.

Oh, it burns.

Talbot's cell phone.

Six very angry messages on it,
all from his nurse, Scott.

Said he knew
what Talbot was planning but...

After talking to this guy, I don't think
he's capable of planning a grocery list.

Did Talbot tell you anything
about their relationship?

He said Scott
was the only friend he had.

He's all yours now.
Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Who are you guys?

Agent Callen. Agent Hanna.

NCIS.

I never thought I'd be glad
to see NCIS show up.

Yeah, I could tell the police
were getting frustrated with me.

My, uh, memory
is not what it used to be.

The doctors say
it's a result of my condition.

We wanna ask you questions
about what happened last night.

- Do you remember anything?
- Just bits and pieces.

The car is just over here.

Talbot.

What's wrong with you?

Who are you guys?

NCIS, remember?

I'm sorry, it's just...

My memory
is not what it used to be.

The doctors tell me
it's a result of my condition.

What happened to my hand?

- Come on.
- Come on.

Hang in there, Lance.

Is there anything else
we should know about him?

Something that might assist us
with this case?

Doesn't doctor-patient confidentiality
mean anything at NCIS these days?

Doctor, there are no cameras
or microphones in this room.

This is off the record.

Anything you know
could make a big difference for him.

He experiences bouts of amnesia
and disorientation on a daily basis.

His grasp of reality
is tenuous at best.

He's not a reliable witness.

What if we take him back
to the crime scene to jog his memory?

I wouldn't recommend that.

There's a strong chance
that if he is re-exposed

it'll trigger a major panic episode.

So we many never know what
happened in that house last night.

This man has no family
and no friends.

The trauma he experienced
while deployed

has driven him
into complete isolation.

Frankly,

forgetting what happened last night
may be the best thing for him.

Has Talbot been taking risperidone
along with benzodiazepines?

As a matter of fact, yes.

I'll talk to him.

I didn't know you had an agent
who was familiar

with the pharmacological
treatment of DSM-IV-TR.

Neither did we.

Thank you for your time, doctor.

No problem.

Who are you?

I'm Kensi. Hi.

Can you tell me about Afghanistan?

Uh, I debriefed tribal leaders.

Men with political power

that were willing to work
with Americans

to stabilize their government.

- That's important work.
- Mm-hm.

I had a unit of Marines assigned
to protect me.

What I knew was so valuable.

- You don't have to say...
- No, that's...

We were ambushed.

It was a kidnap attempt.

The, uh, insurgents,

they, uh, targeted me.

They wanted what was in my head.

Um...

I escaped while those Marines
protected me.

And four of them didn't make it.

Look at me.

I can barely remember them.

Sometimes I see names,
sometimes I see faces

and sometimes I see nothing at all.

If someone were to grab him, they
could force information out of him.

Talbot's a national security breach
waiting to happen.

I know what you're going through.

I have a hard time believing that.

Six years ago,
I was engaged to a Marine.

His name was Jack.

He was stationed in Fallujah.

His unit was tasked
with enforcing curfew.

Shoot-outs and ambushes
every night.

He came back home,

but I knew he wasn't the same.

Post-traumatic stress disorder.

This is news to me.

Me too.

He said life over there was
like falling through the sky.

Constant rush of adrenaline.
Everything felt vivid and real.

And coming home to me...

Coming home to me felt
like hitting the ground.

And I did everything I could.

I...

I worked with his psychiatrist.

I helped with his meds

and I listened,
I always listened, always.

It was Christmas morning...

I woke up and he was gone.

Where did he go?

She's playing him.

She's trying to get him to open up,
right?

Let me take you back to the house.

Being there might help you remember
what happened last night.

You know, your ex was right.

It's exactly
like falling through the sky.

And that's why what
you're suggesting scares me.

I already hit the ground
when I came back from Afghanistan.

What if it happens again?

I will be right there to catch you.

Hey, uh...

You know,
you did all you could to help him.

Wherever Jack is, he knows that.

Wow, and it didn't, um...

Wow.

Go.

Take Deeks with you.
Check in when you get there.

Were you ever, um, tempted
to go looking for him?

Maybe I was hoping one day
he'd come looking for me.

I know this is tough for you.

Uh, I think I'll be okay.

Okay.

Lance, here's something
I don't understand.

Why did Scott
walk all the way over here

to shoot Mancuso
at point-blank range?

Oh, no.

- Are you sure about this?
- Just wait.

I...

I don't know.

There was so much gunshots!
It was a lot of blood!

Please think about this.

It's the only detail
that doesn't make sense to me.

- I can't breathe!
- We have to get him out.

No, wait, wait, wait.

What? What? Tell me.

They didn't kill each other.

I shot them both.

- Where's Talbot right now?
- Boatshed.

We've got two agents
keeping an eye on him.

He says he can't remember anything

other than getting a hold of
Mancuso's gun and pulling the trigger.

Legally speaking, he's not guilty.

He was defending himself.

Forensics show
that Talbot's the victim here.

Sorry to interrupt,
but you'll wanna see this.

This man knows the names of tribal
leaders pivotal to the peace process

and now he's connected
to a double murder.

Go. Brief him now.
I've got calls to make.

So I discovered...

We discovered a connection
between Mancuso and Scott.

L.A.P.D. Found large quantities
of drugs in Scott's car.

Sleeping pills, sedatives, muscle
relaxers and benzodiazepines,

all of which have street value.

And all of which
are used to treat PTSD patients.

Scott's bank accounts
show large cash deposits

that don't match up
with his nurse's salary.

And Talbot's blood test results show

he hasn't been on his medication
for weeks.

What about the patients
under Scott's care?

He was feeding them sugar pills

and selling the actual
pharmaceuticals to John Mancuso.

Fifty-two armed service vets
under that man's care

went months
without proper treatment.

All of this fits our theory. Right?

Mancuso and Scott
had some kind of beef.

The confrontation went down
at Talbot's house.

Guns were drawn.

Talbot must have thought he was back
in Afghanistan and blacked out.

He comes back to his senses,
there's two dead men. He panicked.

So where does this leave the case?

Talbot killed two criminals
in self-defense.

The case is closed.

Deeks, I got it.

Kensi?

I know what you're going through.

I've been there.

I watched Jack slip away.

Maybe I didn't try hard enough.

I don't believe that for one minute.

I know what it's like to have someone
who you care about come back

from deployment a different person.

After all Talbot's been through,

I'm going to do everything
in my power to help him.

Kensi, Talbot's not Jack.

- I was surprised to see you again.
- Why?

You know, back at my house,
there was a moment there

where I almost didn't tell you
what really happened.

You thought you'd go to jail?

No.

I thought you'd give up on me.

You did the right thing.

Wow. Look at that.

You're good.

- The first time my hands...
- Do you have any friends?

Uh... No, not really.

So there's no reason anyone
would be following you?

Following me?

What's going on?

- Please, tell me what's going on.
- Do exactly as I say.

Act like nothing's wrong. Okay?

Stay one step behind me
to my right.

We're approaching a man in a suit,
on our left.

Do you know him?

- No, I've never seen him before.
- Okay.

Oh, man,
I can't believe this is happening.

I need you to stay calm.

Kensi, he's got a gun.

Stay with me! Stay with me!

I'm sure there are two of them.

I didn't see him.

This guy wanted to kill me.

No.

He wanted to kill me.

Thanks.

I'm pretty sure he was with someone.
He's still gotta be out there.

Talbot took a while to calm down.

Eric.

Just pulled the lever
on the facial recognition slot machine

and we've got a winner
on Kensi's cell phone pic.

Behrouz Ghavami,
former member of Takavar.

More specifically,

he was with an urban commando
branch of the Takavar,

Lashgare 23.

Thanks, Eric.

Dead guy's Takavar Lashgare 23.

Iranian Special Military Forces.
Trained to work in pairs.

They want the names of those Afghani
tribal leaders working with our side.

They tried to take me out
so they could grab him.

Just like the kidnap attempt
in Afghanistan.

We need to take him
someplace safe.

In the last 24 hours, Talbot's
shot two guys at his apartment.

Now he's got Iranians chasing him.

It could be a coincidence or a lot more
to this case than we first thought.

Take him to a motel.

If Lashgare 23 is here in Los Angeles,
it's not to sample the Dolmeh Felfel.

Falafel's about as exotic as I get,
Hetty.

That's a pity.

Despite Mr. Talbot's mental state,

they might be able to garner intel
useful to them,

but potentially harmful to us.

I kept watching the footage
from the carollers' video camera,

hoping I'd eventually find something,
which I did.

I like to think of it as Nell's
"Secret Santa."

A black mark.

This is L.A.P.D.'s photos
of the crime scene, same wall.

No mark.

Pull up the photo
of the body positions.

This is where Mancuso fell
after he was shot.

- Head height.
- Coroner confirms his hair was dyed.

- Which explains the mark.
- But not what made it go away.

We need to take a closer look
at Mr. Talbot.

All right, two windows,
a clear view of the parking lot.

Not a single tree, bush or blade
of grass to conceal a foot approach.

It may be functional and dreary
on the outside.

Wait for it.
But once the key has been turned,

a little slice of heaven.

So, uh, kitchenette there,
bathroom right around the corner

and they change these sheets
like clockwork once a week

and free cable except for porn.

It's nice. Classy.

You would know.

So, what do we do now?

Well, uh, we do what most families
do on Christmas Eve.

Watch Uncle Bob get drunk
and pee in the toaster?

How about eat and watch TV?

That's a great idea.
The game just started.

I was thinking more along the lines
of Miracle on 34th Street.

Really?

Actually,
I wouldn't mind watching that.

Really?

Why don't you go get the food,
Deeks?

Yeah, why don't I go get the food

because that's what Deeks does
is get...

Turkey sandwiches
okay for everybody?

The tradition in my house
was ice cream and beer.

Really?

- Don't knock until you've tried it.
- Tried it.

Although it was in seventh grade
and it didn't end pretty for anyone.

Unless of course,
you like Jackson Pollock.

Actually, I love ice cream and beer.

Mm-hm.

Okay.

Remember Nell mentioned
that Talbot has an ex-wife?

Well, when he was 18,
he married Rochelle Stanton.

A few months into teenage
marital bliss, he calls L.A.P.D.

Reporting she assaulted him.
The marriage was annulled.

Rochelle Stanton scored
on the FBI database hit parade.

She's now married
to one Tagvor Covesian.

Heavy hitter with the Armenian mob
in East Hollywood.

Guess what the bureau's
after him for?

Trafficking in black-market electronics
with Hezbollah.

Iran's biggest terrorist group,
Hezbollah.

They make a fortune
selling counterfeit goods.

We have a possible connection
between Talbot's ex-wife

and the men trying to kidnap him.

Assuming they're working with
Hezbollah not another group.

A friend
of the FBI's surveillance unit

told me that Covesian is hosting
a Christmas Eve football party

for his bookie buddies.

Rochelle Stanton will be there.

We could bring her in
and interrogate her.

She's just gonna lawyer up.
We don't have time for that, Sam.

I count seven.

Definitely packing.

- Eric?
- Just say the word.

We're set.

Okay.

There's the snap.

Quarterback rolls right.

Pump fakes. He has a guy open.

- He throws...
- Now, Eric.

What's going on?

We've definitely got motion
in the backfield.

Call's coming in.

First Class Home
Entertainment Services.

How my I provide you
with excellent service today?

What kind of crap service
am I paying for?

I need somebody out here now!
If someone's here in 5 minutes...

Hurry it up. We missed
the first half of the game already.

I'll check the unit.

Your incoming cable connection?

Back of the house.
My wife can show you.

Move it.

You believe these clowns?

I hope you can get it fixed.
Those guys are pissed.

I'll get right on it.

Why don't you tell me

what your husband's Iranian friends
want with Lance Talbot?

I've got armed agents
all around this house.

Make the wrong decision

a blacked-out game is gonna be
the least of your problems.

Honey? Can I speak to you?

If he's working
with the men trying to kidnap Talbot,

the best thing you can do
is cooperate with us.

- Save yourself the prison sentence.
- What is it?

The appetizers will be ready
in five minutes, baby.

Get back to work.

Tagvor does business with the Iranians
but only on orders from his boss.

He hates them.

His family was exiled
from Tehran in the 1970s.

He won't even meet them in person.

So how the hell would they plot
a kidnapping together?

What was Talbot like
when you knew him?

The son-of-a-bitch
couldn't keep it in his pants.

He had three different girlfriends
on the side for two years

before I found out.

He dropped the assault charges
against you because he felt guilty.

Lance is not capable of feeling guilt.

He was trying to get into the Navy.
Didn't want anything on his record.

Three relationships and he managed
to keep it from you for two years.

He never slipped up?

He remembered birthdays,
phone numbers?

When you're a sociopath
with a photographic memory,

you don't slip up.

Excuse me.
Hey, you check that incoming cable?

Yeah.

Yeah, we're all good here.

Go ahead, Eric.

It's about time!

Good morning, Your Honor.

You do solemnly swear that
the testimony you are about to give...

This better be important.
Kris Kringle is about to go on trial.

There's more to Talbot than we think.
Watch your back.

Yeah.

Oh, my God, really?

Oh, yeah. Right.

Merry Christmas.

Kensi!

Kensi.

Damn it.

I had a dream I was, um, being visited
by the Three Wise Men.

And then I saw Deeks.

- Where's Talbot?
- We're looking for him.

- Are you okay?
- Talk to me, Eric.

L.A.P.D. Reported
a man matching Talbot's description

just carjacked a civilian
two blocks from the motel.

He's in a red Camaro

and I've got traffic cams
on him right now.

Eric's got a visual on Talbot.
Sam and I will go after him.

Stay with Kensi until
the paramedics get here.

- All right.
- Okay, Eric.

- Hurry up, guys, he's moving fast.
- Where is he?

Moving west on Pico,
just past 20th Street.

- Kensi.
- I'm good to go.

I don't think you are and it has nothing
to do with the head wound.

- I'm driving.
- Fine.

Scratch my car,
I'll Bengay your shorts.

He's taking a right on Ocean.

We're on Pico at 7th. Deeks?

On your six, two blocks behind.

Maybe three.

- He's slowing down.
- Santa Monica Pier.

There's the red Camaro.

Got eyes on Talbot.
What's he doing here?

It must be a meet.

Got the right flank.

Let's split up. We'll box him in.

Moving into position.

Talbot just made an exchange.

Took a pack from the other guy
who was at the boardwalk.

He's wearing black pants,
a blue jacket.

Sam,
you and Kensi stay with Talbot.

Deeks and I got the other guy.

He just put a flash drive
in his pocket.

Kensi, stay with him. I'm gonna
loop around and cut him off.

Move in now.

Don't move.

Federal agent.

Honey, come here.

Freeze.

Be careful. Honey, get the kids.

Oh, my God.

You okay?

Yeah.

I'm fine.

You figured it out, didn't you?
How he got it done.

Let's hear it.

Talbot faked his PTSD.

No one would suspect him
of selling classified Intel.

Those angry voicemails
from the nurse on his cell phone?

Scott saw that Talbot's behavior
stayed the same without his meds.

He realized he was faking
and caught onto his plan.

He wanted a cut of Talbot's deal
with the Iranians.

Scott brings in Mancuso as muscle.

Talbot disarms Mancuso
and kills Scott.

He uses Scott's gun
to shoot Mancuso point-blank.

Final touch,
Talbot shoots himself in the hand,

he's covered in his nurse's blood.

He says he's trying to save him.

Throws a wrench in the forensics.

It took 15 minutes for L.A.P.D.
To show up.

Christmas carollers said
it was chaotic.

At some point Talbot slips away,
wipes the black mark off.

That way the crime scene
matches his version of the events.

But when he thought
I was getting suspicious,

he confessed to killing them both,
thinking his PTSD would cover him.

I should have seen through it.

L.A.P.D., the entire U.S. Navy,
his own psychiatrist didn't get it.

What makes you so special?

Picking you up at 11 in the morning.

The game starts at 1.

I'm gonna make sure you still have
those steak knives I gave you last year.

I told you, I still got them.

So it doesn't look like
you're gonna make it to Seattle.

No, Deeks, I'm not going to Seattle.

Since this Christmas Eve
has been so warm and fuzzy,

I say let's keep this party going.

I thought you had a date.

I do.

Marty. It's so nice to see you again.

Who's this pretty young lady friend
of yours?

This is Kensi.
I figured we could use an extra hand.

Thank you, Kensi.
For that you get an apron.

- I get that.
- And you get one too.

Ms. Jones, Merry Christmas.

- Oh. Hetty, you shouldn't have.
- Go ahead.

Open it.

Oh. Well, that's...

- Wow.
- Try it on.

Okay. Okay.

You going home?

Uh, my flight leaves in an hour,

so I'll probably have to go stand-by
on a later one.

Oh, nonsense.

I'll drive you.

- Oh, but it's...
- It's Christmas, Nell.

It's a time for miracles.

And a little talent at the reins
of the sleigh wouldn't hurt either.

Jingle all the way.

Buckle up, my dear.

Hold on, Ms. Jones.

Hetty!