Party! Yeah! NOP!
(dance music playing, crowd chatter)
♪ Gonna make you mine forever... ♪
Dude, I think she's dead.
Should we call security?
(gasps) Oh...
♪ You can run, you can hide ♪
I need another drink.
♪ Girl, I'm gonna make you mine... ♪
BOTH: Zombie!
Freshmen.
♪ It's just forever ♪
♪ Never stop until you love me ♪
♪ Even if you treat me cold ♪
♪ I'll love you till we decompose... ♪
What?!
Natalie?
(knocking insistently)
Natalie!
Natalie...
(continues knocking)
Natalie, open up.
Natalie...
(crying) (knocking)
Natalie!
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪
Laurel, because you're King's daughter,
I'm gonna take it easy on you when the Tide rolls your Tigers.
Oh, you're just scared, Chris,
'cause you know this is our year.
Hey, Agent Brody, where'd you go to school?
Michigan State. A Spartan!
Won the Big Ten last year.
Really? They did? I don't really root.
I'm not a rooter.
Oh, that's so sad.
All right, listen up, everybody...
Music major in the house.
Hey, Dad.
You didn't tell me you were coming to town.
Oh. Everything all right?
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm just here for the weekend.
Gonna see some friends
and catch Batiste at the Apple Barrel and...
Homemade gumbo?
In the big blue bowl, please. Promise.
But first, we got work.
Dead sailor at New Orleans Poly.
Let's load up.
(camera shutter clicking)
Victim's name is Petty Officer T.J. Blake.
This is University Police Officer Mike Banton.
He was first on the scene, found the victim's wallet, called it in.
Door was locked? Yes, sir. Like I told lovely Agent Brody there,
that I was dealing with a feral cat crisis
when I got the call about this.
So far, no sign of a gun.
Loretta, can you give us some idea of what we're looking for?
Entry wound appears to be small caliber-- best guess, handgun.
Won't know any specifics until I get back to autopsy.
All right, let's get started.
Christopher, have NOPD do a canvass.
Brody, prep a DPA.
Pride, something else.
There's stippling around the wound.
Shot was up close and personal.
Yeah.
I met T.J. during the party.
He was really sweet and funny, and we just...
hit it off and started drinking.
We went upstairs to my room,
and passed out, and when I woke up, he was dead.
Shot dead.
You didn't hear anything?
Didn't see anyone in your room?
No. What... what is that for?
It's a gunshot residue test.
May I?
Tilda, you hear anything?
Maybe see Petty Officer Blake
get into an argument with someone at the party?
Oh, I was kind of out of it.
This is just all really gross.
Did you see him?
He was bleeding all over her Zini.
You two stay put.
We may have some more questions.
Excuse me.
Okay, fill me in. What's a Zini?
It's a designer throw rug, really expensive.
Like, a thousand dollars.
Since when do college girls
have thousand-dollar rugs in their rooms?
Since their rich daddy started sending them to NOP.
Went to boarding school with girls like that.
We didn't get along.
Natalie's negative for GSR.
Not a surprise.
The blood on her arms stops at her wrists.
So she washed her hands.
Still need to locate the weapon.
Given what we've got, she's our one and only suspect.
Not so fast...
"lovely" Agent Brody.
(chuckles) Ordinary bobby pin.
Where'd you get that?
Her name's Diane. She's a kinesiology major.
With what, a minor in Zumba?
These buildings are ancient,
which means the lock is easy to...
(lock clicks)
Voilà.
So that means anyone at the party could be our shooter.
But Officer Banton said the only way into the sorority house
last night was through the front door
and anyone who went in or out was caught on camera.
How many people was that? In the neighborhood of 200.
It's not one,
but not terrible.
You know how I got into parties in college?
Snuck in through the side door.
There's always a way to sneak in.
All the windows have security locks,
doors have alarms.
So much for that theory.
PRIDE: Not so fast.
There's dirt on the floor here.
Where does that go?
Christopher, stay here.
Dust this door for prints.
Brody, you come with me.
Tunnels below sea level?
These old houses
were all once owned by the wealthy,
and when the upstairs folk
wanted to have interactions with the downstairs folk,
sometimes a good tunnel would come in handy.
Let's keep an eye out for anything
the killer may have left behind.
Yeah, well, I'm only seeing dirt and God knows what.
Ah.
PRIDE: Well, there's one suspect to cross off the list.
Over here!
Whoever murdered Petty Officer Blake
might've gone up this way!
And come out...
(trolley bell dinging)
BRODY: Where are we?
The middle of the city.
So...
we went from one suspect
to 200
to how many people are in New Orleans
on any given weekend?
A million, give or take.
(bell dings)
Great.
That's just great.
(groans) Oh, sorry...
Very impressive, Sebastian.
Where'd you learn how to do this?
Uh, I got my, uh, Red Cross certification
when I was dorm captain in college.
It's a good way to meet girls.
What happened? I met a few.
Well... Eloise, she was Pre-Med.
She fainted after she got this really bad paper cut, though.
I meant Loretta's wound.
It's a work hazard.
I cut my finger on the bullet that killed your vic.
It's a black talon.
Sharp spikes open up on impact,
deepening the wound and imbedding the bullet
in the tissue.
Makes it difficult to grip with the tweezers,
so I use my fingers badly.
E.R. doctors have been trying to get them banned for years.
And ever since Gian Luigi Ferri killed nine people
during his rampage in San Francisco.
You know, most folks thought that he was a nut,
but he said he was the victim of too much monosodium glutamate.
Oh, the MSG made him do it.
Sebastian's a connoisseur of conspiracy theories.
Well, they're not conspiracies, okay?
They're discernments.
Just wait till I show you how the fake moon landing
fits in with why we haven't found Bigfoot yet.
WADE: I also found
minute plastic fragments.
And given the lack of gunshot residue near the wound,
it could've come from some kind of improvised silencer
that the killer made.
Makes sense; he creates his own silencer.
That's one less thing for law enforcement to track.
He also has bruising on the arm.
He fought with his attacker.
Chief Petty Officer Blake died around 9:00 p.m.
The color of those bruises tell me
that they happened maybe five, six hours before his death.
Got Blake on surveillance
entering the sorority at 7:30 p.m.
Who did he fight with before he went to that party?
Running prints on the tunnel door.
So far, only misdemeanors.
Urinating in public, sleeping in fountains
and stealing mascots.
Things I'm sure you're familiar with.
Magna cum laude, 3.7 GPA,
didn't even have to go to class.
How's the surveillance from Officer Banton?
He sure liked you.
Delicious, warm beignets.
Put in your mouths,
eat, speak of things you've learned.
(sighs) Our victim.
Petty Officer First Class Blake,
a Navy SEAL, stationed at the Stennis Riverine Facility.
That's it?
Well, his missions were classified.
So he is as well.
But I did speak with a contact at SOCOM
who will hopefully have a detailed bio for me soon.
What's a Navy SEAL doing at a college party?
LASALLE: Beyond the obvious?
None of the attendees have a connect with him,
other than Natalie Lane.
The girl we found with the body.
Originally from Seattle,
sophomore at NOP,
dean's list and a part-time tutor.
Everyone says she's a peach.
All right, think, ideas.
What happened at that party?
Lots of college kids, alcohol flowing.
Guy tries to take advantage.
She shoots him in self-defense.
Not the picture Natalie painted.
Nothing but praise for Petty Officer Blake.
You know, I'm not sure if or how this is related,
but my contact at SOCOM said that Blake's platoon
had issues during a mission in Somalia.
So you're saying because of some weirdness in Somalia,
one of his own guys killed him?
No, I think Natalie did it. Maybe she was in shock
when she talked with you. I don't know,
but she was in a locked room with Blake.
She washed her hands
and somehow that gun disappeared before we arrived?
But if she didn't?
Who better to sneak into a house,
access a locked room,
shoot Blake
with a black talon bullets
and leave without anyone the wiser?
Piece of cake for a SEAL.
All right.
I'll speak to Blake's master chief,
find out more about Blake
and that mission in Somalia.
LASALLE: King, you know how SEALs don't like
anyone poking in their business,
especially NCIS.
I'll use my gentle face.
I was Petty Officer Blake's instructor during BUDS training.
I watched him become a leader.
Not only is his death a blow to the team,
but to me personally.
My condolences.
How's his family?
We're it.
His parents were Marines.
They died on 9/11 at the Pentagon.
Makes no sense why he was at that party.
Meaning?
It was important to Blake
to set an example
for the men on the team.
Then he's killed at a college kegger?
Sickens me.
Got any leads?
We're looking into whatever happened
after the mission in Somalia.
Wish I could talk to you about that.
Spec ops missions are classified.
Let's go, gentlemen!
Chop chop!
Then read me into it.
Agent Pride, I am sure as my life
none of Blake's SEALmates had anything to do with his death.
If you need to talk to someone...
Max Wolf.
Which one is he?
BENSON: He's none of them.
Like I said: not a SEAL.
Let's go! Quicker, quicker!
PRIDE: Max Wolf is a mercenary
who provided support to the SEALs
during the mission in Somalia.
He was caught trying to steal a ring from a terrorist
by cuttin' off his finger.
Blake stopped him, reported him,
and he was fired.
So Blake reports Wolf and Wolf gets blown out.
Smells like motive to me.
Smells like gumbo to me.
LASALLE: Wolf now works for a group
called Shade Corp.
Go find him.
I'll save you some leftovers.
Hey! Hey, Laurel.
Just in time.
What do you think? LAUREL: Hey, what's in here?
Like, cumin?
"Like, cumin?"
Mm-hmm. Where did I go wrong?
It's filé.
Your mother's gene pool got into
your system and
any traces of my DNA strand were erased.
Hey, I got your love for music,
not your taste buds.
Oh, Dad... Hmm?
...my RA says the piano's taking up too much space.
I have to move it out of the dorm.
Well, honey, that piano's
been in the family for years.
It's what you learned on,
it's what I learned on... Yeah...
I know, I'm not gonna get rid of it.
I just want to send it back.
Your mom doesn't know how to play.
Well, I wasn't going to send it to the house,
I was going to send it here.
This is where I work.
And where you live.
For now.
(clears throat)
Eat your gumbo.
I'm gonna call your RA.
(indistinct conversations)
So how can you be sure Wolf is actually here?
It's a mercenary hangout.
I got a tip from one of my buddies in Vice
that Wolf's got a side business going:
guns, night vision goggles, Kevlar...
Kevlar might've been a nice idea.
Chrissy Lasalle?
Hey. Hi!
When'd you move to New Orleans?
Happy to see you!
I got into, uh, law school at Tulane.
So I take class at night,
and I make some extra change here during the day.
Chrissy and I go back to 'Bama,
and I was a cheerleader
and old Chrissy, here, was Big Al.
(Heather giggles)
He's our mascot.
An elephant.
A very cute elephant.
Roll Tide.
Wow. School mascot? Magnum Cum Laude?
I feel like I'm meeting you for the very first time.
So, Heather...
What you got?
Did you see this guy here last night?
Oh, I sure did.
Got into an argument with another guy.
LASALLE: Him? HEATHER: Uh-huh.
That's it. I don't know what they were arguing about,
but, um, you can ask the first guy yourself.
He's back there drinking with his buddies.
Max Wolf?
You got a prescription for that?
NCIS. We need to talk.
(grunting)
Ah! Ah!
What are you, some kind of superhero?
You should see her when she's angry.
BRODY: Cuban Kush. Rare,
expensive, illegal.
It's for medicinal purposes. Then why'd you run?
You ever think about getting out of that suit?
Shade Corp. could use a soft touch like yours.
BRODY: I really appreciate the offer, but...
I'm more into guys who know
that less is more. Things like...
protecting corrupt governments
moving weapons for terrorists
or killing a Navy SEAL
don't really turn me on.
Whoa, Blake? You think I killed him?
Go to hell. You're already pretty busy down there,
I'll pass.
So what was the fight all about?
The mission in Somalia, the girls
in Morocco... We fought 'cause he's a damn hypocrite.
The SEALs: brave, upstanding, courageous--
and their poster child,
a model of what a SEAL should be...
is dating a prostitute? Excuse me?
After Blake got me fired, I did some digging.
Found out who he spends his nights in town with.
We fought 'cause I called his girlfriend what she is:
a whore.
This girl?
That's her.
Natalie... someone.
Two words:
Hook. Er.
She lied.
PRIDE: "Hooker" was a fact she omitted.
Yes, omitted.
Forgot. Failed to mention.
There was absolutely no speaking
of the hooker part at all.
The whole business about...
Them meeting at a party?
That was probably a lie as well.
If Wolf was telling the truth. Okay.
Let's say, for a second, he was.
Natalie is a college student...
Who can afford a Wini.
(chuckles)
Uh, a Zini.
Hmm? A Zini.
But you get the point I'm trying to make.
Being a prostitute doesn't give us motive.
Wolf alibi'd out.
Street cam caught him at a bar
at the time of Petty Officer Blake's death.
Since we found out Natalie was a pro,
I widened our search.
She's got a juvie record
under another name, Natalie Burke.
More prostitution?
No. Attempted murder?
She tried to shoot her stepfather.
Court advocate suspected abuse,
nothing's been proven.
But... she knows guns.
All right. Bring her back.
Tried her cell. She's not answering.
She didn't show up for classes today.
LASALLE: Hang on. I got a guy.
Knows this world.
Might be able to help.
Talk to him. Brody...
Back to the sorority?
Uh, you seem reluctant
to want to pin all this on Natalie.
Is it weird working a suspect
kind of like Laurel? Not my first.
Think that's clouding my judgment in this case?
Pride...
Girl with a checkered past,
who lied,
washed gun residue off her hands
and she was in a locked room with the victim?
A veritable bulls-eye of circumstantial evidence.
But...?
Look, Brody...
When your kid's little,
you choose what they eat, what they wear.
You put 'em to bed at night and kiss their forehead
and it all is good.
And then, poof--
in an instant,
they grow up, they go to college...
You lose control of everything.
Where they are, what they're into.
It's just scary to think that somehow
that could go as dark as turning tricks and murder.
Someone ever creates a pill to keep 'em young,
they'll make a mint.
ROSS P.: ...but as soon as that little chick opened her mouth,
breath smelling like the bottom of my feet,
straight up, it was...
Oh, here go the man, right here.
S'up, Peter Gunn?
Ross P., tipster said
you're selling illegal firearms to kids.
I don't know what you talking about.
That's a Federal offense
and a personal pet peeve. What are you doing, man?
Come on, I got rights and this is my bar, man.
I got this. Man, come on!
You ain't got to get
all method on me now, Agent Lasalle.
Gotta protect my confidential informant's image.
What you want?
Name's Natalie.
She's a working girl. You seen her around?
White girls all look the same to me.
Ross...
the only reason you're not in a cell
on attempted murder charges is 'cause I own you.
Fine.
Yeah. Working girl.
I mean, what's so important about her?
Think she killed a Navy SEAL.
Navy SEAL?
She is a bad little white girl, huh?
I'll ask around.
Long as it gets you off my back.
Better eat your Wheaties.
'Cause I'm gonna be on your back for a long time.
Natalie stayed with me last night,
but when I woke up this morning, she was gone.
Any idea where we can find her?
Uh, she usually has class in the morning.
I think... Soc 301.
No, we checked. She's not there.
And then in the afternoon, she goes to work.
It says in her file
she's a tutor, right?
Yeah.
You, too?
Yeah.
It's a good way to make money, you know?
College is really expensive.
Yeah, I...
I know.
You okay?
Yeah, I'm just...
I'm worried about Natalie.
Um, I kind of have to go to class.
Just, um...
You hear from Natalie, you'll, uh...
you'll let me know, right?
I will.
Officer Banton, does the campus have crisis counselors?
Someone Natalie might confide in?
That'd be C.A.P.S.
That's Crisis
and Psychological Services.
I'll get you their contact if you'd like.
Yes, please.
Hey, you wouldn't happen to be
of the single girl variety, would you?
PRIDE: Can I borrow you please?
Yes!
Tilda's shoes.
$700, $800.
Now why someone would pay that for shoes?
No idea.
This purse?
$1,500 to three grand.
(door opens)
Maybe Natalie's not the only one who's a prostitute.
So, I scanned the girl's photo through facial recognition.
Then I applied it to a web photo search.
It's the same technology social media sites use
when they try to guess who's standing behind you
at your birthday party.
And what I got...
at first looked like a bare-bones education site.
But then...
if I become a member...
sign in...
and voilà-- collegiate call girls.
Who's he?
That's Patton Plame.
He just finished the Fleet Cyber Command,
and we scooped him up.
He's a hacker.
"Investigative Computer Specialist"
is what it says on my card.
Please.
You break through bad guys' e-mails.
That's a hacker.
That's dope.
"Dope" is a good thing.
I know from dope, dear.
Patton Plame.
My daughter Laurel.
Hi.
So, collegiate call girls.
Sex is big business in college. Laurel...
Web-cam girls, girls who do phone stuff... PRIDE: Laurel...
I have this one friend who, one time... Laurel.
If you would just wait in the kitchen,
that'd be dope.
It was nice to meet you, Patton.
Someone talk.
Ran Natalie's bestie Tilda.
She's an econ major and was arrested
for solicitation two years ago in New York.
You want me to bring in Vice, round up the girls?
Not until we solve the murder-- we need to find Natalie.
Well, while you back there trying to figure it out,
I'm just gonna go on-line and make an appointment with her.
I came to see about the piano.
Dad, you forgot?
No, I left a message with your RA.
Well, I have to move it tomorrow.
All right, well, l-let me follow up.
Or... I can just put it here.
There's plenty of space.
You don't put a house piano in an NCIS office.
Because it might not fit in
with the crawfish boil in the courtyard...?
Laurel, if I move the piano here,
it's just one more thing I have to move back home.
Can we...?
Talk more later?
Yeah.
I'm sorry... It's fine.
We got an appointment with Natalie.
We're studying algebra tonight, Roosevelt Hotel, 9:00.
BRODY: Kind of piano is it?
Sorry, I overheard you guys talking in the kitchen.
Upright Hamilton.
It was my grandmother's.
Well, it's no fun to be caught in the middle.
My parents did that to me when they would silent fight.
Walk around the house, ignoring each other,
and I was the go-between.
How old were you?
Oh, it's still happening.
LASALLE: Guys, I'm glad you're having a moment,
but do you think this hail Mary of ours is gonna work?
BRODY: Chrissy, do you have a date with Heather?
Heather, the cheerleader?
He was the school mascot.
A walrus.
"Big Ed."
It's "Big Al."
And he's an elephant.
PRIDE: Let's go.
She's here.
(engine revs, tires squeal)
Pride!
Natalie, look out!
They're gonna kill me.
They're gonna kill me. They're gonna kill me!
BOLO's out on the SUV that tried to run Natalie over,
and NOPD is checking street cams.
Dark SUV, no license plate.
I wouldn't count your chickens.
What's going on in there?
Chill and spill.
Chill out over food, spill what you know.
Chill and spill. (cell phone dings)
I like that.
Sebastian's got something on the bullet. Come on.
You from a small family, big family?
It's just me and my mom.
Dad died in a Humvee accident in Iraq when I was a kid.
Mom re-married this psycho alcoholic...
blah, blah, blah...
You're thinking, "That's why she's so messed up."
Actually, I'm thinking you're pretty damn strong.
Come out here, get into college...
You sound just like TJ.
Petty Officer Blake?
He was just "TJ" to me.
First name basis.
Must have been a good client.
He wasn't a john.
We met in a park.
I was studying,
and he walked by...
in his uniform.
He reminded me a lot of my dad.
Not because of the military, but because...
he was just a good guy.
Why didn't you tell us about your relationship before?
Nobody knew.
Girls in the ring are warned not to get serious with guys.
So, he knew what you did?
He wanted me to quit.
But when I bailed on this appointment I got a text,
warning me that if I ever did it again,
something bad would happen.
Text from who?
I don't know.
The hierarchy of the service,
it's like this big secret.
But you showed up tonight...
because you were scared of whoever it was.
Yeah.
Were you supposed to be working?
The night that TJ was killed.
I was, like-- screw them, right?
I mean, like TJ said, they don't control me.
But they do.
He believed in me.
And they murdered him
because he was trying to help me change my life.
Hey, Pride.
Are you sure Natalie doesn't know who's running this ring?
Swears she doesn't.
Ugly business.
Luring these girls with money and the high life.
Scaring them when they want to get out.
Anything from Natalie's cell phone?
No, all the threatening texts are from burners.
You staying on the right side of the line?
Man, it's been three years since I've been in a casino.
This was a bet I stopped myself from making.
Hey, I put a trace on the other girls' phones.
Odds are-- whoever's running this ring
killed Petty Officer Blake.
Good man.
Day by day, baby. Day by day.
SEBASTIAN: Ballistic fingerprinting began
when scientist Alexandre Lacassagne matched
an individual bullet to the inside of a gun barrel.
He realized that the imperfections inside
made every gun unique and special.
Not unlike the imperfections of a snowflake.
Or a toddler with a large nose whose mother still loves him.
Right. Moving on. (clears throat)
This is the bullet that Dr. Wade removed
from Petty Officer Blake.
These are the striations of said bullet.
And this is removed from the vic of an unsolved murder in 2006.
Now, wait for it...
Wait for it.
Just changed the batt...
Here! The striations match.
The same gun was used for both murders.
Who was the vic in 2006?
Uh, some promoter at Club Madison.
LASALLE: I remember that case.
No arrests, but rumor was Russian Mob did it.
Prostitution's a big business for Russian syndicates.
Since New Orleans is a port city, it's easy for them
to move girls in from all over the world.
Sebastian, can we cross-reference...
The prints from the club murder with those
from the secret tunnel door? You got it.
Meanwhile, I'm going to my "phone-a-friend."
You wanted Russians,
should have just said something a couple of days ago.
Didn't know it was Russians a couple of days ago.
Inefficient is all I'm saying.
His name's Vlad.
He's Mob connected, you know.
H-He thinks he's here to talk to me about... other matters.
And he crazy.
And I'm talking psycho crazy.
You hear me?
Hey, frat-boy.
I'm meeting someone.
NCIS. Federal agent.
What is this?
Dead Navy SEAL.
One of your business associates murdered him
for taking one of their girls.
I'm legit business man.
Sorry, can't help you.
I heard you're more mobbed up than a sanitation chief.
Well, someone's got a big mouth.
You can shut yours.
Put the gun down, Vlad.
Your smile only masks your fear.
I'm genuinely having a blast.
(gun clicks) Tell the man what you know.
Told you he was crazy.
That better be licensed.
(gun clicks)
(chuckles)
So let me tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was a rich businessman
that had Russian mob ties,
and he made an appointment with...
Natalie.
Had the time of his life.
Even fell in love, but...
When rich guy tries to make another appointment,
he's told she's no longer available,
because she's fallen in love...
With Petty Officer Blake.
So, mob wants to keep a good customer happy,
kills Blake.
Do we believe this Vlad guy?
He had a gun pointed to his head.
All right.
If someone was willing to kill for this guy,
he must be someone important.
Let's get Natalie to give us a description.
Maybe-maybe Patton can work up a good 3-D sketch.
(computer beeping)
Sebastian.
You okay, kid?
No, he's not.
He's on sugar overload.
I'm on a saccharide rush, glucose gloat,
fructose frenzy.
Because...
Uh, well, I... we wanted to figure out
how the killer made his improvised silencer,
and we did. We did!
Sebastian?
(clears throat) This is a gun.
This is Orange Hays Soda.
You take three empty bottles,
cut two of them up, stick them inside the third,
Then stuff it with, uh, Styrofoam or cotton.
Bam.
Okay, calm.
Only there is no bam.
This contraption cancels most of the noise from the gun.
And that's why Natalie didn't hear the shot.
How do we know it's Orange Hays?
I found residue on the plastic fragments
from Petty Officer Blake's chest wound,
and Sebastian matched the residue
with the formula that makes the drink.
I also downed, like, three liters of it.
I have to pee.
You know who else drinks Orange Hays?
Who?
Outside, please, ma'am.
(gasps)
Hostage!
(rapid gunshots)
He's in the hallway!
Officer Banton, stop!
999, shots fired.
(rapid gunshots)
Give me an excuse.
I don't know how you drink this stuff.
Sweet, caloric,
sticky.
You should've rinsed the bottle a little more
before you made your ghetto-rigged silencer.
PRIDE: You remember Petty Officer Blake?
Never met him.
Your gun has.
BRODY: Your gun met him,
too, June of 2006.
Club madison.
Doesn't mean I pulled the trigger.
You work for the Russians, Banton.
You killed Blake
'cause he got in the way of business.
When we started sussing out the ring,
you tried to kill Natalie.
You knew we were getting close, so you tried to run her over.
PRIDE: This isn't a game, Banton.
We got you.
We got you on two murders
and an attempt. Louisiana's a capital murder state.
You want to see old age?
Talk.
Let's start with this.
I didn't try to run that girl over.
I don't miss.
So who was the driver?
And this is where I get my lawyer,
and we play Let's Make A Deal.
We have to leave. Now!
Officer Banton was arrested. He's been working with the mob.
He's the one who killed T.J. Look, Natalie, slow down.
If the cops start piecing together everything,
they're gonna figure out who runs the ring,
and those guys are going to kill us.
Natalie, listen to me.
Ow. Ow, let go of me.
Aah! Who have you been talking to?
What?
I need to know what you've been saying
and to whom you've said it.
I need to know, Natalie.
It's you.
You run the ring.
You told that guy to kill Blake.
Ow!
You were coveted
by a very important man.
A man that I need to keep happy.
So, now for both of our sakes,
I need you
to tell me
that you didn't tell anybody anything.
I didn't.
You just did.
PRIDE: NCIS.
You stupid bitch.
Hands on your head.
Nothing stupid about her.
Let's go.
I don't want you to mess up your Zini.
What's a Zini?
Take care of those boys.
Thank you, sir. If you need anything,
you let us know.
Appreciate it.
(sighs)
T.J. saw the good in me.
He thought I deserved better,
that I was strong enough to start over and move on.
He's not the only one who did.
After we found out your father
was U.S. Army, we made a few calls.
LASALLE: Scholarship from the Folds of Honor Foundation.
All you got to do is pick a school.
Thank you
for giving me a second chance.
Awfully humid out here for a piano.
Only temporary.
The movers are making room for it inside.
But... what about home?
That's my issue, not yours.
Gonna do everything I can to make sure
you don't get caught in the middle.
The only middle here...
...is middle C. (chuckles)
Name your tune.
(sighing): Okay.
(playing "God Bless the Child")
First song you ever taught me.
It's better as a duet.
(joins in playing song)
Captioning sponsored by CBS
and VOLKSWAGEN
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org ob.