Oh, come let us adore Him, Oh, come let us adore Him, Oh, come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.
All donations go to our local soup kitchen.
Here you go.
Oh, happy holidays.
Thank you.
Happy holidays.
Thank you very much.
We really appreciate it.
Thank you.
Were you off key?
No way.
Did you see the wife dusting 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, yeah.
Yeah.
Hey, did we stop at this house last year?
I don't remember.
Let's try it.
I wonder why there are so many people out there.
Let's do Silent Night.
Yeah, we are.
Ready, guys?
That's great.
Silent Night, Holy Night, All is calm.
Hey!
What the hell was that?
Ryan!
Come on!
Come on, hurry!
Oh, no!
Come on!
There it is!
Come on!
Hurry!
Get in!
Come on!
Go!
Get in!
Come on!
Please, help me!
Okay.
Awesome.
Hold on there, little drummer boy.
Let's talk about this for a second.
Hi, I've been easier.
Kathy's never given us anything for Christmas before.
Why this year?
I'm having some kid whose parents won't come get them ever.
Sam is like the Grinch that stole Christmas,
except for...
Bigger.
Ah.
You all have your gifts.
Dare we ask what we did to deserve this, Eddie?
Rest assured, Mr. Callan,
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?
Going to buy G as much beer as he can drink.
Explain, please.
I scored two tickets to the Lakers' Heat.
Court sign? Nice.
Wow. Enjoy Kobe and LeBron.
Am I sensing all the jealousy over there, Deeks?
About you guys on your mandate?
A little bit. It's okay.
It's okay. I'll be seeing somebody special.
Oh.
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?
Players' Almanac. How about you?
Family.
You have family in LA? Nope.
In, um, Seattle.
Eddie's idea of the perfect gift for me is a spice rack.
That's a nice spice rack.
If you don't want it, I'll take it.
No, no, no. That's a nice spice rack.
I know. I bought that for myself.
I bought it for Eddie. Christmas 2008.
A scented candle?
It smells like sage. Jasmine.
I gave that to Eddie two years ago.
Same scent. Same candle.
I'll take it. What? No, no, no.
Excuse me, Mr. I did not give that to you. Hand it over.
No, no. You gave it to Eddie.
Who gave it to Callan.
Who is right now realizing he has absolutely no use
for a jasmine scented candle.
Christmas 2008. I...
I don't believe it.
Cool. Bookends.
Eddie's a re-gifter.
Huh.
Eddie's a re-gifter.
Uh, are you kidding me?
That's what I'm talking about.
That is awesome. Scarf, you know what this is?
Favorite color.
What? I gave that to Eddie a year ago.
I bet that one she thought it would look better on me.
That's not the point. You didn't have to.
I didn't.
You know what the news is?
At least she didn't re-gift that sweater from last Christmas.
Do you remember the reindeer in the snow?
Hey.
It 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 Hedy.
She says she thought it was the perfect present.
That was me. Three Christmases ago.
Hedy was going through her goose-hunting phase.
That's spice work.
I know. I love it.
Meet Lieutenant Lance Talbot,
a 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 carolers.
They heard gunshots inside Talbot's house.
According to LAPD,
he witnessed a shootout 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 death jockey like him doing on the front lines?
During his deployment, the Defense 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 shootout?
One victim was the Navy corpsman responsible
for administering Talbot's medication each day.
Ensign Eric Scott.
Now, LAPD nailed him
nine years ago for drug possession,
but he never did time.
Only family Talbot Scott is an ex-wife
from an old marriage ten years ago,
so the nurse was the one taking care of him regularly.
The other victim was John Mancuso.
Now, he's got a history of drug 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?
LAPD seems to think so.
He was shot in the hand,
but it could have been a defensive wound.
He could have put his hand up
to protect himself taking a bullet.
The ER said it was a minor wound.
He was shot in the hand,
but as of now, this case is ours.
This case is ours because NCIS
doesn't want him disclosed and classified Intel.
Intel? Look, you get our allies in Afghanistan killed.
We need a forensics report
to determine what really happened.
LAPD says it'll take at least three days
for us to get a finalized crime scene report.
Try three weeks.
It's time of year half the department's cashing in
on accumulated vacation time.
Does anyone have a ball of string and duct tape?
That's...
Hold, please.
Sam is Talbot.
Callan is Scott the nurse.
Deeks is Mankusa 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 trajectory.
Somebody's very official today.
Don't tell me 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.
You still have those steak knives I gave you?
Yes.
Okay.
So, uh, you're visiting family in Seattle, huh?
Yep.
It's interesting, because you never mentioned them before.
You never asked.
What part of Seattle?
The West.
And it's a direction on a compass,
not a town or a suburb.
You wouldn't know it.
You're 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,
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 in soups?
They're both caring. They pawed the weapons, opened fire.
Chaos breaks out.
Talbot sees his friend as being threatened,
lunges at Mancuso.
Mancuso starts firing nine millimeter rounds
from his Glock, hits Scott three times
in the torso,
two strides go out the window,
and hits Talbot in the hand,
which gives Scott the opening
to aim his Smith and Wesson
.357 for the
killshot.
Scott took three shots of the torso.
He drops down, he bleeds out.
Talbot revived his friend,
which is why he ends up covered
in the nurse's blood in 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.
Well,
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 could confirm
and deny the details is Talbot himself.
Let's bring him in.
What?
Don't, don't.
Ouch.
Oh, he burns.
Talbot's cell phone.
Six very angry messages on it
held from his nurse, Scott.
Said he knew what Talbot was planning,
but frankly, after talking to this guy,
I don't think he's capable of planning a grocery list.
Talbot tell you anything about their relationship?
Said Scott was the only friend he had.
He's all yours now.
Merry Christmas.
Who are you guys?
Agent Callan.
Agent Hannah.
NCIS.
I thought I'd be glad to see NCIS, Joe.
Yeah.
I could tell the police were getting frustrated with me.
My, uh, my memory,
it's not what it used to be that
doctors say it's a result of my condition.
I just want to ask you a few questions
about what happened last night.
Do you remember anything?
Just bits and pieces.
Yeah.
Talbot!
Who are you guys?
NCIS, remember?
I'm sorry.
My memory's not what it used to be.
Doctors tell me it's a result of my condition.
What happened to my hand?
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 Dr. 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.
The strong chance that if he's re-exposed,
it'll trigger a major panic episode.
So we may never know what happened
in the house last night.
This man has no family and no friends.
The truth is,
he has 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 someone been taking resperidone
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-4TR.
Neither did we.
Thank you for your time, doctor.
No problem.
Who are you?
I'm Kenzie. Hi.
Can you tell me about Afghanistan?
I debriefed tribal leaders,
men with political power that were
willing to work with Americans
to stabilize the government.
That's important work.
I had a unit of Marines
assigned to protect me.
What I knew was so valuable.
You don't have to.
No, it's...
We were ambushed.
There was a kidnap attend.
The
insurgents
they
targeted me.
They wanted what was
in my head.
And
I escaped
while those Marines protected me.
And four of them didn't make it.
No.
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.
His talbot's a national security breach
waiting to happen.
I know what you're going through.
I have a hard time believing that.
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.
Shootouts and
ambushes every night.
He came back home.
But I knew he wasn't the same.
Post-traumatic stress disorder.
This isn't his 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.
I did everything I could.
I...
I worked with a 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... 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 life falling through the sky.
And that's why what you're suggesting scares me.
I already hit the ground when I came back
from the fantasy.
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, I mean, it didn't, um...
Wow.
Go.
Take Deeks with you.
Check him 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.
So I thought I wanted to have one thing
on my mind while I'm working for you.
I know this is tough for you.
I don't 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?
You sure about this?
Just wait.
Hey.
I don't know.
There was so much going on, it was a lot of blood.
Please think about this.
This is the only detail that doesn't make sense to me.
Okay, okay, okay, we have to get him out of here.
What? What? Tell me.
They didn't kill each other.
I shot him both.
No.
Where's Talbot right now?
Boat shed. 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 want to 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 them now. I've got calls to make.
So I discovered.
We discovered a connection between Mancuso and Scott.
LAPD 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 rest of the patients under Scott's care?
He was feeding them sugar pills
and selling the actual pharmaceuticals to John Mancuso.
52 armed service vets under that man's care
went months without proper treatment.
All this fits our theory, right?
Mancuso and Scott had some kind of beef.
Confrontation went down at Talbot's house.
Guns were drawn.
Talbot must have thought he was back in Afghanistan, blacked out.
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.
Dease, I got it.
Kenzie.
I know what you go on through.
I've been there.
I watched Jack slip away.
Maybe I didn't try hard enough.
I don't believe that for a minute.
I know what it's like to have someone that 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.
Kenzie.
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.
Kenzie.
You did the right thing.
Wow.
Look at that.
You're good.
That's the first time I hands...
Do you have any friends?
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...
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 again.
I need you to stay calm.
Kenzie! He's got a gun!
Stay with me! Stay with me!
I'm sure there were two of them.
I didn't see them.
This guy wanted to kill me.
No.
He wanted to kill me.
Thanks.
I'm pretty sure he was with someone.
He still got to be out there.
Talbot took a while to calm down.
Eric.
Just pull the lever on the facial recognition slot machine,
and we've got a winner on Kenzie's cell phone pick.
Bruce Gavami, former member of Takavar.
More specifically, he's with an urban commando branch of the Takavar.
Lashkar-23.
Thanks, Eric.
Dead guys, Takavar, Lashkar-23.
Iranian Special Military Forces.
Train to work and pass.
The Afghani tribal leaders are 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.
So the last 24 hours, Talbot has shot two guys in his apartment.
Now he's got Iranians chasing him.
Could be a coincidence, or it could be a lot more to this case than we first thought.
Take him to a motel.
If Lashkar-23 is here in Los Angeles,
it's not to sample the dolma, Felfald.
Falafel's about as exotic as I get, Heddy.
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 carolers' video camera,
hoping I'd eventually find something,
which I did.
I like to think of it as Nell's secret town.
A black mark.
This is LAPD's photo 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.
Kerner 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.
Clear view of the parking lot, not a single tree,
bush or blade of grass.
One foot approach, maybe.
Functional and dreary on the outside.
Wait for it.
Once the key has been turned,
a little slice of heaven.
So, uh, kitchen up there.
Bathroom right around the corner.
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?
It's a great idea. Game just started.
I was thinking more along the lines of, uh,
Miracle and 34th Street.
Really?
Actually, I wouldn't mind what you mean.
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.
Turkey sandwiches? OK for everybody?
Well, the tradition in my house was I scream in beer.
Really?
Don't knock it till you've tried it.
Well, I've tried it, although it was in seventh grade
and it didn't end pretty for anyone.
I guess you like Jackson Pollock.
Actually, I love ice cream and beer.
Mm-hmm.
OK.
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 LAPD reporting she assaulted him.
The marriage isn't old.
Rochelle Stanton scored on the FBI database hit parade.
She's now married to one tag war covician,
heavy hitter with the Armenian mob in East Hollywood.
Guess what the bureau's after him for?
Mm-hmm.
Trafficking in black market electronics with Hezbollah.
Now we're in his biggest terrorist group, Hezbollah.
They make a fortune each year selling counterfeit goods.
All right, so we have a possible connection
between Talbot's ex-wife and the men trying to kidnap him.
That's assuming they work with Hezbollah
and not another Iranian group.
A friend at the FBI surveillance unit told me
that Covician is hosting a Christmas Eve football party
for his bookie buddies.
Rochelle Stanton will be there.
We could bring her in an interrogator.
She's just gonna load her up.
We don't have time for that, Sam.
Account seven.
Definitely packing.
Erick, just say the word.
We're set.
Okay.
Is this NAP?
Quarterback rolls right.
Pump fakes.
He has a guy open.
He throws.
Now, Erick.
We definitely got motion in the backfield.
Call's coming in.
First-class home entertainment services,
how am I gonna provide you with excellent service today?
We're gonna beat the crap people's service
in my day for you.
I need somebody out here now.
I need somebody out here in five minutes.
Hurry it up.
We missed the first half of the game already.
I'll check the unit.
Where's your incoming cable connection?
Back of the house.
My wife can show you.
Move it.
You believe these clowns?
Hope you can get it fixed.
Those guys are pissed.
I'll get right on it.
First, why don't you tell me
where your husband's Iranian friends
went with Linus Talbot?
I've got armed agents all around this house.
Make the wrong decision.
Blacked out game's 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?
Appetizers will be ready in five minutes, baby.
Get back to work.
Tag 4 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 with them in person.
So how the hell would they
plot a kidnapping together?
What was Talbot like when you knew him?
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.
And 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.
He 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 checked that incoming cable?
Yeah.
Yeah, we're all good here.
Go ahead.
Good morning, your honor.
You do soundly swear that the testimony
you were about to give them
was before they tried to do the truth.
No truth, nothing but the truth.
It's better be important.
Chris Kringle's about to go on trial.
There's more to Talbot than we think.
Watch your back.
Yeah.
Oh, my God.
Really?
Oh, yeah.
Great.
Merry Christmas.
Kenzie!
Kenzie?
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.
You okay?
Talk to me, Eric.
LAPD 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 cans on him right now.
Eric's got a visual on Talbot.
Sam and I will go after him.
Stay with Kenzie until the paramedics get here.
Right?
Okay, Eric.
Hurry up, guys. He's moving fast.
Where is he?
He's living west on Pico.
Kenzie?
Kenzie!
You're good to go.
I don't think you are.
It has nothing to do with the head wound.
I'm driving.
Fine.
Scratch my car.
Then get your shorts.
He's taking a right on Ocean.
We're on Pico.
It's a right on Ocean.
He's taking a right on Ocean.
We're on Pico at seven, Deeks.
We're on your six, two blocks behind.
Maybe three.
He's slowing down.
Santa Monica Pier.
There's the right Camaro.
Come on.
Got eyes on Talbot.
What's he doing here?
It must be a meet.
Got the right flank.
Put up.
We'll back to men.
Moving into position.
Tal had just made an exchange.
He took a pack from the other guy who was at the boardwalk.
He's wearing black pants, blue jacket.
Sam, you and Kenzie stay with Talbott.
He and I got the other guy.
He's put a flash drive in his pocket.
Kenzie, stay with him.
I'm going to loop around and cut him off.
Move in now.
Hey, hey.
Hey!
Don't move!
Federal agent.
Wait!
Oh my God!
No!
You OK?
Yeah.
I'm fine.
You figured it out, didn't you?
How he got it done?
Sarah.
Tal but 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 Talbott's behavior stayed the same without his meds.
He realized he was faking, caught onto his plan.
He wanted a cut of Talbott's deal with the Iranians.
Scott brings in Mancuso as muscle.
Talbott disarms Mancuso and kills Scott.
He uses Scott's gun to shoot Mancuso point blank.
Final touch.
Talbott shoots himself in the hand.
He's covered in his nurse's blood.
Says he was trying to save him.
Throws a wrench in the forensics.
Took 15 minutes for LAPD to show up.
Christmas carolers said it was chaotic.
At some point Talbott slips away, wipes the black mark off.
That way the crime scene matches his version of the events.
I thought I was getting suspicious he confessed to killing them both,
thinking his PTSD would cover him.
I should have seen through it.
LAPD, the entire US Navy, is on psychiatrist didn't get it.
It makes you so special.
Picking you up at 11 in the morning.
Game starts at 1.
Gonna make sure you still have those state knives I gave you last year.
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.
Well, since this Christmas Eve has been so warm and fuzzy,
I say we keep this party going.
I thought you had a date.
I do.
Marty!
It's so nice to see you again!
And who is this pretty old lady friend of yours?
This is Kenzie. I figured we could use an extra hand.
Thank you, Kenzie, for that you get it.
I got it!
You look like a gorgeous woman.
Miss Jones.
Merry Christmas.
Oh.
You shouldn't have. Go ahead.
Open here.
Oh.
Well, that's...
Wow.
Try it on.
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 Christmas now.
It's a time for miracles.
And a little talent at the reins of the slave
wouldn't hurt either.
Jimble all the way.
Buckle up, my dear.
Hold on, Miss Jones.
Honey!
Woo-wee!