The plane is ready when you are Mr. Renner. I've loaded your luggage. I'll be down in a few minutes.
I've loaded your luggage. I'll be down in a few minutes.
Forgive me, Boyle, but it's just too early for Mahler.
Of course, sir.
Boyle!
No! No!
What you got there, Inspector Gadget?
It's an electric potential sensor that can read changes in the electric field caused by your heartbeat.
72 beats per minute. It's pretty normal.
So it's like a high-tech stethoscope?
Uh, no. Way more than that.
Okay, everybody's heart beats unique, right? Like a finger or a voice print.
This sensor is strong enough to pick up, record, and analyze your specific cardiac cycle from a considerable distance, even through walls.
Oh, I thought Mr. Microphone was fun.
Um, sorry, who?
It was this toy microphone that amplified your voice through the radio.
Never mind. I got a person of interest alert. The name Sebastian Renner popped up on a police report.
I didn't flag him.
Neither did I.
But I did.
Whoa. Would you look at that. 46 beats per minute. That's incredible.
Ah, that's all untrue core Tibetan yoga.
Sebastian Renner is a Swiss antiques dealer.
Not anymore. He's found murder near the Hollywood sign.
You best rally the troops.
Would it help if I sing the theme from Rocky?
What the hell have you been?
Waiting for you.
You're supposed to meet go for a run before work.
You're supposed to meet at Patrick's Roadhouse for breakfast.
Sorry, we'll still get in a couple miles.
No way. I just had pigs in blankets and waffles. A little bit full.
Full of something in it, eh? Waffles.
You know what? Get a little grumpy when your blood sugar gets low.
Yeah, Eric?
Everyone in ops.
We're on our way.
Hold on. Let me get a towel.
For what?
This is nice leather.
It's nice.
Good morning, sunshine.
Lied to me.
This is a hello. You called the sunshine.
Said you needed a ride.
I do.
I'm your partner, not your chauffeur.
Thought you were having car trouble.
Nope.
What are you doing?
Hm?
Please tell me you didn't.
What?
Thank God you're using me as bait.
Not bait. As a wingman. This is what partners do.
Do you know how early a professional this is?
You should tell me.
What?
Don't stop. Keep telling me. Get mad at us like we're breaking up.
Get angry. Ready? Go.
Are you for real?
Harder.
Oh, come on. Sunshine.
Wait.
Stay away from me. It's over.
I can't do this anymore.
Listen, I'm sorry.
I know that it's tough.
When I'm on the road all the time, touring.
With the band.
I don't care about that.
You cheated on me.
With my brother.
That's just mean.
In addition to his antique dealership,
Sebastian Renner was also a known black marketeer.
Eric?
The footage you're watching is from a surveillance perimeter
around the Hollywood sign.
Police are still on the scene.
That looks like an execution.
Yeah, but they're also looking for something.
Apparently, Renner used his antique dealership
as a front for Brokering's major arm steals.
He specialized in weapons salvaged and stolen
following the breakup of the Soviet Union.
Finding out who killed Renner is secondary
to finding his little black book of weapon buyers and sellers.
Every spook and his brother will be looking for that intel
and we need to find it first.
What if the men that killed him already have it?
Then we get it back.
Hold on a second.
That's it? End of discussion?
The clock is ticking, Mr. Cowan.
And you're already late for the party.
Any further queries will have to wait.
Okay, Deeks and Kansy, see what you can find out
from LAPD of the crime scene.
Sam and I will take Renner's house.
Problem?
No, we're cool.
Yeah, you're so the opposite of cool.
So that's hot?
So you think I'm hot?
It's cool.
Morning, Ray.
Hello.
Guess who's here to see you, Mr. Cole?
She, Edgar Hoover.
We don't usually get to see you during the week, Mrs. Cole.
I thought I'd surprised my husband.
Looks like we beat LAPD here, but somebody else beat us.
Yeah, he's right. I'm late for the party.
Muton Rothschild Poyak.
Very fine, very rare, very expensive.
Maybe Renner was celebrating.
Maybe Sebastian Renner knew his time was running short
and he wanted to enjoy it while he could.
What's missing from this picture?
Printers, scanner, cables, no computer.
Speaking of missing pictures...
Well, Renner had no family.
These must all be friends or associates.
Who was in this one?
This guy's in a lot of them.
Probably a pretty good place to start.
Yo.
Eric, Calvin's sending you some photographs.
Need to identify the players.
Concentrate on the guy in his 30s who appears the most.
Got it.
Federal agents, come out with your hands up.
Hey, boys, how you doing?
Easy. Easy.
You're good doggies, aren't you?
Yes, you are.
How do those waffles feeling right about now?
You know what's really funny?
Your car's still in there.
What's all this?
Sebastian Renner's personal effects.
LAPD was more than happy to hand the case over.
Two less homicides for them to worry about.
No cell phone or laptop?
Well, if he had either, the killers must have grabbed them.
I'll see what I can find in terms of phone, internet and travel records.
Who's this with Renner?
That's Sandra Lee.
Calvin Sam found his photo all over Renner's house.
He's an interior designer here in LA.
He's got a store at the Pacific Sign Center.
Could be a client.
Or something a little more significant.
Call Calvin, let him know what you found.
Where's Hedi?
She left right after this morning's briefing.
She didn't say where she was going.
They wrenched the flag furiously from the dead man.
And as they turned again, the corpse swayed forward with bowed hair.
One arm swung high,
and the curved hand fell with hypotest
on the friend's unhealing shoulder.
Sebastian Renner passed away this morning.
Do you remember him?
He was an antique dealer.
Among other things,
I believe you had dealings with him in the past.
Did he die?
Yes.
I don't remember.
He helped smuggle you into this country
in exchange for a book you gave him.
A book in which you'd recorded information about your past.
I told you, I don't remember.
Well, Renner's dead. He was murdered.
You could be next.
If they were to find him.
I would prefer death or business.
That should come as no surprise to you, Silvia.
No.
What surprises me is that you haven't asked who killed Renner or why.
Perhaps I don't care.
Or perhaps you know who killed him.
And perhaps you remember a lot more than you're telling me.
I am tired of being your prisoner.
Can you?
Last mission, look!
It's okay, Mr. Cole. Just try and relax.
I'm sorry.
It's quite all right. He gets frustrated sometimes.
Yes.
Perhaps it's best if you go back in and rest here.
I'll come back later.
Gotten's fact.
This place is enormous.
1.2 million square feet.
Never been to the Pacific Design Center?
Look who I'm asking. Of course you've never been here.
Never.
It's a nice chair.
What do you know? You don't own any furniture.
Well, maybe it's time I get a chair.
Yeah.
$3,700.
I don't need a chair.
Sander Lee Design. This is it through here.
How much did you give him?
The usual.
Unless they had a reaction.
Pulse is weak.
Federal agents!
Go! Go quickly!
He's got a pulse for this threat.
Stay with him.
Drop the gun!
Drop it!
Now!
Okay.
Did you get him?
One of them got away.
You're gonna make it?
What's the word on Sander Lee?
The guy's in critical condition.
He would've been dead if it hadn't been for Sam
keeping him alive until the paramedics got there.
He's not out of the woods yet.
Doctors say they pumped him full of narco-synthetic.
A truth serum?
The book was...
It's a little black book.
If they're willing to keep killing people to get it.
You find anything?
Yeah. I talked to Sander's parents.
They're flying in from Phoenix to be with him.
They did confirm that he'd been in a relationship
with Sebastian Renner for the past several years.
Eric, what do you got?
I managed to ID the two men from Sander Lee's.
The dead guy is Dars Talbert.
The guy you wounded and captured is one Frederick Harbin.
Both in the country as agricultural attachés.
They're suspected of being Bundesnachrichtendienst.
Gesundheit.
BND is the German Federal Intelligence Service.
BK, spies.
It's just became an international incident.
Now, there is a bright side of this.
If these guys are interrogating Sander Lee,
it suggests we're still looking for something.
He's right. Maybe they didn't find Sebastian Renner's little black book.
And again, they are Germans.
We could be just getting their kink on.
I'm half German.
Let's see that.
Director Vance is on the phone?
Let me deal with the director.
I'll meet you in ops in 10 minutes.
Eric, access a file
that's called Dinner Party 76.
The password
is
Harryaspex77981.
Dinner 76 mean anything to you?
Not a clue.
It's buried in a bunch of administration folders.
What's that, password code?
Harryaspex77981.
It's an ancient Roma.
Harryaspex is someone who could predict the future
by reading the entrails of Sacrifice Sheep.
You don't think that...
Heady...
Okay, here it is.
It's a surveillance folder on Bernstrom Coal.
Bernstrom Coal.
Guy with Shtatzikahite.
Gesundheit.
Just wait for it.
Rule of threes. Third time is going to be hilarious, I promise you.
Stasi with the East German secret police during the Cold War.
Cold War ended 20 years ago.
Seems to me like it's heating up again.
Bernstrom Coal is a rising star in the former Soviet Republic
before running into some trouble with his superiors.
Apparently he had a little black book on some of his fellow Stasi operatives
as well as foreign agents from numerous countries.
A little black book Sebastian Renner ostensibly possessed.
Coal allegedly had evidence of some of the more infamous,
albeit secret, operations of the KGB, the U.S. and Israel,
including assassinations.
That's one hell of a dinner party.
So why would Heady tell us this book has a list of arms dealers?
Because the actual specifics of the book,
our way beyond all of our pay grades, is blind.
Where did Renner get the book?
Bernstrom Coal traded the information to our friend Renner
for safe passage to the West.
Renner kept the book as a sort of get-out-of-jail-free card.
Nobody wanted to risk that information leaking out,
so they left him alone.
So why did the Germans whack him now?
Ah, one never knows with the Germans.
Right. Come on, guys. I'm right here.
Apologies, Herr Biel.
Donka, where's Bernstrom Coal now?
He's been living in this country for several years
under the name Branst and Coal, C-O-L-E.
He had a stroke a while back,
which left him crippled and legally blind.
It may have contributed to early onset Alzheimer's,
but that's debatable.
He's waiting in the boat ship.
Question, Coal. See if you can get anything useful out of it.
Oh, I had animal control move the dogs from Renner's property.
Perhaps Ms. Bly and Mr. Deeks can have a more
thorough search.
Absolutely.
Done.
Eddie, do you have some sort of plan you want to share?
Yes, my plan is to prevent an onslaught of foreign operatives
from tearing this town apart looking for that book.
I suggest you and your team do the same thing.
This place looks more like a museum than a house.
How can you even relax in a place like this?
You don't like antiques?
Antique is just a fancy word for secondhand goods.
Why on earth would I want something that somebody else had?
We're not talking about a toothbrush.
I mean, look around.
You don't find craftsmanship like this anymore.
Some of this stuff is probably worth a fortune.
Reason number two.
Why would I want a coffee table I can't put my boots on
or have to worry about my beer leaving ring?
You are a classy chick.
Classy?
You're more sassy than classy.
Oh, and those yoga bunnies you were perving on before,
they're classy?
It's really hard when I'm on the road all the time
touring with the band.
Like I said, classy.
Whoa.
Check this out.
It's an application for a clinical trial
at UCLA Johnson's Comprehensive Cancer Center.
Men are had cancer?
I don't know if he did.
It wasn't good.
This trial involves placing experimental chemotherapy
wafers into the brain after the removal
of a metastatic tumor.
Brain cancer?
I explain why the Germans came after Renner now.
If they'd learned that he was dying,
maybe they're afraid that he was going to unload the book.
Well, selling it would provide his companion,
Sander Lee, with a pretty nice nest egg.
Oh, he's already got a nice little nest egg here.
But maybe Renner was planning on getting rid of it
so no one would come after Sander Lee looking for it.
Well, if so, he waited too long.
I thought Hedy said the dogs were gone.
Dogs don't wear shoes.
Well, that's not necessarily true.
You ever seen those little dog booties?
Got little bells on them?
Battle agents, don't move!
LAPD!
NSA!
NCIS!
MOUSE!
What are you doing here?
This is our case.
Sebastian Renner was a foreign national
with information considered a threat
to the United States of America.
Still our case?
We don't have to be adversaries.
After all, we are on the same side.
Perhaps we could work together.
Have you found anything that might be...
What are you doing?
You heard the guy?
We're on the same side.
I'm pretty sure he's not in Essay.
Pretty sure?
Because you teed off
and I'm like you were kicking a field goal.
Deeks, I got a hunch they're foreign operatives.
A hunch?
You don't kick a guy in his junk
on a hunch.
Geez!
Sometimes I don't even know you.
Who does that?
This place smells like fish.
gasoline.
I can hear the water underneath me.
Where the hell am I?
A boat house?
Something like that.
Budget cuts?
Are you planning on chopping me up into chum?
We'd just like to ask you a few questions, Mr. Cole.
You were an East German agent.
Versailles?
I don't remember things.
Tell us what you do remember.
I remember...
San Francisco.
November 22nd, 1989.
Smelt just like this,
but it was cold and drizzly.
Last day I had eyesight
and the sun wasn't even shining.
Was that when you had your stroke?
My stroke was caused by blood loss
from two bullet holes.
Compliments of an American operative.
You're fortunate to survive.
Versailles.
Why don't you tell us about Sebastian Renner?
He was an antique stealer.
Was?
He's dead, isn't he?
Supposedly he has a book of yours.
I don't remember any book.
Sorry.
You were told Sebastian Renner died this morning.
Usually Alzheimer's patients
have more of a problem with short-term memory.
I am not a doctor.
No.
You were a spy.
I've us a lot of things.
Now, I am just this.
You want my help.
So be it.
We make a trade.
I tell you what you need to know
and in exchange,
Sylvia finishes what she started.
Sylvia.
Vicious pixie was me that much.
She did it.
Sylvia is one of Hedi's aliases.
Hmm.
Seems like it's a lot of old-school
cloaking dagger stuff going on here
that we're not being told about.
How'd you make out?
Did you take anything new away from Renner?
Yes.
These two guys.
These jokers waltzed in while we were there,
tried to pass themselves off as NSA agents,
but they're DGSE, French Intelligence Agency.
How'd you know they were bogus?
Their accents.
They didn't have accents.
Do you know the difference between
French open syllabic organization
and English tracheic speech patterning, Deeks?
That old chestnut.
Hedi was right.
They're coming out of the woodwork.
Where are they now?
I've had my LAPD buddies lock them up
downtown for a few hours, you know?
Give them a taste of the real LA
that's not in the Star Tours.
They probably have diplomatic immunity.
That's exactly why we put them in county.
I mean, they're going to be lucky
if they get to make a phone call by Christmas.
Just, uh, don't let Kenzie interrogate them.
Why is that?
Because the guy in the right,
she kicked him right in the Nonday plumes.
No.
The guy didn't even have his weapon out.
Really?
Mm-hmm.
Right in the cul-de-sac.
Kicked him so hard it gave me a stomach ache.
So what?
It would have been better
if I pistol-whipped him across the face?
Yes.
What is it with you guys
and your-it-really, it's not...
It's not on that.
Trust me.
Did you guys manage to get anything out of Cole?
Not so much.
He's playing us.
He may not be the only one.
What do you mean?
Yo.
Eric, I need to talk to Hedy.
She left again.
How long ago?
About an hour ago.
She said where she was going?
Nope.
When I asked, she's serving out like a mongoose.
Hedy.
Pogger!
And don't tell me you're here
Don't tell me you're here because you wanted your chair reupholstered.
That was very foolish of you, Mr. Callan.
You came dangerously close to having your head blown off.
You're lucky I caught a whiff of your partner's baby fresh scent.
You and I need to talk.
Shall we start with Branson Cole?
Not unless he told you something useful.
Well, this is much what he didn't tell me.
It was you.
I'm sorry?
You shot him.
It was your wounds that led to his stroke,
which also suggests it was you that kept him from dying.
That is quite a theory, Mr. Callan.
You put him into an assisted living facility as your husband.
Under new names you could keep working him for information.
Only it's difficult sometimes to tell when it's his Alzheimer's
and when he's just playing you.
Tell me if I'm wrong.
He's a stubborn old bastard.
But I'm patient.
Occasionally he trips up and I get him.
I didn't know any better.
I'd say that you two enjoy the game.
Maybe even each other's company.
Now you're straying into fantasy, Mr. Callan.
Cole is an asset from the past.
Nothing more.
You read to him every week for years.
It's a cover and it's wearing thin.
He's become more and more withdrawn lately
as his physical condition worsened so does his spirit.
He's willing to cooperate.
If you agree to finish what you've started.
Oh.
He's asked you before.
About a year ago.
Taking a life in the line of duty is one thing.
Hell, I've already shot him.
Twice.
I'm not a murderer, Mr. Callan.
But I may be a hypocrite.
Cole's fate is now in the hands of someone far greater than I.
I didn't think there was such a person.
What about this little black book of secrets?
I don't think he knows what Renner did with it.
Is it really as valuable as everyone thinks?
From what I know?
It could permanently damage international relationships
and jeopardize our country's political security.
Such as what?
Sanctioned assassinations?
Use your imagination.
Are you in the book?
The longer one stays in this business, Mr. Callan,
the more one's closet resembles an ossuary.
Mine, I'm afraid, is beginning to look like the Paris catacombs.
Speaking of closets, did you find anything
before you ducked into Sandra Lee's?
I found something.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to interrupt.
I could just...
No, no. Tell us what you've discovered now.
Well, I was looking through the manuscripts,
thinking that maybe there's something hidden in them.
It took me a while to even figure out what they were
because they're written in Bustrophodon.
Back and forth like plowing a field.
Exactly. Very old school.
And Ms. Jones to the point.
Right. Well, the manuscript's legit.
It's not the book, it's the bookmark.
Eric?
It's sterling silver and very rare.
See, it has a magnifying glass compartment
which contains a miniature dictionary.
It was a very clever novelty item back in Victorian England.
That's when Eric and I started talking about Sherlock Holmes
and vintage cloak and dagger stuff.
Anyway, it was Eric who found it.
It was the punctuation that was the tip-off.
There's just too much of it.
And that's when our conversations started to be thinking about
Cold War spy craft and then it hit me.
Microdots.
Exactly.
Runner was using old school techniques
to hide his assets in plain sight.
It was easily overlooked by everyone.
I managed to enlarge one of the micro dots.
So we found it?
Yes and no.
I'm still analyzing this, but for the most part
it just seems like a lot of outdated Cold War information.
The value of which is suspect at best.
But it could mean that the information we're looking for
is hidden in a similar manner.
You see how many books were in Runner's place?
It could take years to look through more for micro dots.
It's like picking flies.
Yes, Mr. Hane, it would be labor-intensive
to say the very least.
But we have to do something.
Washington is having a conniption fit
over the number of foreign operatives
who've descended on our city.
What if we put word out on the street
that Cole's book had been found and it's up for sale?
We could use some of what we found as proof
to help smoke out the foreign operatives
that have infiltrated the city.
Sounds like a plan. Let's do it.
I'll put it out to the Koreans and the Armenians
that the book is for sale.
You speak to your buddy Arcady,
but I don't know the word.
What is it?
Teddy.
What about her?
Something's not right.
We'll be right back.
What's going on?
Not sure.
No, have you seen Teddy?
She was in her office.
Eric!
Yeah, Teddy up there?
Yes, she was...
I'm sorry, she's like a ninja.
Let's go.
Mathias.
Hertha, I'd hope you'd find my note.
You look well.
Enough. As do you.
Too much sun, too much wine, too much food.
But I didn't expect either one of us to live this long.
So who cares?
If you hand over your weapons,
it would spare us both the vulgarity
of having me search you.
That's it these days.
And even then, it's mostly for the common street dog.
Please, Seth.
Thank you.
It's a shame, isn't it?
So much crime and corruption.
Whatever happened to honor among thieves, huh?
Or respect for one's elders.
Let alone one's enemies.
Chivalry.
Indeed.
Do you ever come here?
Occasionally.
Reminds me of the first time we met.
Vienna.
The Volkshaberwien.
I missed the second act
of the Landstreicher because of you.
I wish you'd stayed.
Of course, you still would have missed the second act.
I don't have the book, Mathias.
I don't even care anymore.
To be honest, I'm beginning to think
it's nothing more than a legend.
No, I don't want the book.
I want Cole.
You stayed?
I shot him myself.
That much is true, but our agents confirmed
that he survived his run-in
with the Gardensberg.
With you,
Cole was most fortunate.
I know only too well that most aren't.
Present company accepted.
You must know then that I won't tell you anything.
I would never insult you by suggesting you would.
I'm confident, however,
that you are worth far more to your people
than a crippled old blind man.
Which is why I'm certain
they will be willing to trade him
for you.
I apologize
for the distastefulness of it all,
but we should get going.
I'm not going anywhere.
You're just going to have to shoot me
right here.
Out of there,
I could kiss you right now.
If I wasn't afraid,
you would gouge out both my eyes
and bite through my wounds.
If I wasn't afraid,
you would gouge out both my eyes
and bite through my windpipe
if I got close enough.
The fact that you're so damn defiant,
especially knowing what I'm capable of,
you truly are the last
of a dying breed.
We both are Matthias.
We are, aren't we?
It's not just my coda-chrome nostalgia
for a simpler time.
The world has changed.
And our business has changed.
And I, for one,
have seen enough bloodshed
in the name of
king and country.
Well, let me appeal to you.
Is one cold war survivor
to another?
What is cold to you?
No one cares about a crippled
blind traitor.
Surely you haven't developed
feelings for the old man.
You know, he's the one who gave you the nickname
Gardenswell.
Sticks and stones.
Unfortunately, we're now talking
guns and knives.
You're just as valuable
to me dead, my dear.
I'll send your people
an ear, maybe a finger.
I'll hand over coal before your corpse
is cold. Why now?
Who cares
about the incoherent bablings
of an old man?
Some wounds
last a lifetime.
Treason is one of them.
I'm sorry, Hatter.
I find it hard to even do this
myself.
But in the end,
we all die alone.
One more step and she's dead.
Don't listen to him.
I already told him to shoot me
and I'm still here.
Clear.
Clear?
Clear!
I guess that's the difference
between us, Mekius.
Despite my best efforts to keep
these ones at arm's length,
I'm not in this alone.
Sure, Hatter, please die.
Get zoomed tight.
Nicely played.
So the FBI and the real NSA
have been brought up to speed
along with the other agencies.
Hopefully we'll be able to round up
the rest of the foreign operatives
still lurking around town.
What's going to happen to Matias?
If he's lucky, he'll be sent back to Germany
and some face-saving spy trade
along with Tenzie's French boyfriend.
What about this missing book?
If it's hidden among Renner's manuscripts
or in his library, it'll take a while to find it.
Nevertheless,
it was a job well done.
National security
is a marathon,
not a sprint.
I suggest you all get some rest.
The game begins in you tomorrow.
Well,
I don't know about you guys,
but I could use a drink.
You'd be better off getting a good night's sleep.
Don't let alcohol become your chosen form of stress management.
I'm not stress man,
but I'm buying.
Then I'm in.
Me too.
No, that means you gotta come too.
You can't be the only woman in this group.
Really?
Okay.
Looks like you're the designated driver, G.
Nice.
If that's the case, I'm gonna
check with Hedy and see if she wants to make this
the Magnificent Seven.
I got a shot.
I'm all right, Mr. Callan.
Thank you for not asking.
Jess wanted to see if you wanted to join us for a drink.
I'm driving.
A more generous, inviting offer,
I can't imagine.
But I have plans.
Hedy, you're kidding me.
Are you almost getting killed today?
That doesn't merit a celebratory cocktail with your rescuers.
I have a previous commitment.
Forgive me if I'm, uh,
hesitant to let you out of my sight.
If you must know,
I'm going to see Branst and Cole.
Which means what, exactly?
I'm not certain myself.
But it's something I have to do alone this time.
And I'm confident that you'll respect my wishes to do so.
Good night, Mr. Callan.
Take the rich and animal life.
Oh.
Thank you.