61
NCIS NEW ORLEANS:
The School of Life
At four in the morning an inky blackness surrounds a large plantation house where bright stars promise another hot summer day tomorrow. The camera moves through an open window and into an elegant, second floor bedroom. A woman—fifties, light brown, shoulder-length hair—is sleeping in a large canopy bed. Her head twists left then right as a nightmare engulfs her consciousness.
Instantly, we're part of her dream.
The early morning sun is rising over the Mississippi River, a few miles outside the city of New Orleans. A row of old, three-story wooden warehouses is left of a small abandoned parking lot, and beyond is the glistening waters of the river. Its current slowed by a crescent shaped pool formed at a natural bend where reeds and snake grass thrive.
A single truck is parked near an overgrown patch of grass. On the side of the vehicle is painted red block letters: I Got the Pole—Come Get the Fish
Agent Dwayne Pride is buying fresh fish from a short, stout, leather-skinned man standing beside the open back double doors.
AGENT PRIDE
How much for the paper mouth trout?
FISHMAN
For you, today's special, only $4.50 a pound
PRIDE
(shakes his head)
I can get it at the store for $3.00
FISHMAN
Alright, smart guy, but this is fresh…I mean, just off the
boat fresh. So, I'm gonna give it to you for $4.00,
but only 'cause I like you, and don't
want you walking all the way back home with
nothing to cook tonight.
PRIDE
Alright, Mr. 'Fresh fish'…
FISHMAN
…the name's Mr. Pescado.
PRIDE
Alright, Mr. Pescard, weight out five pounds,
'cause I'm not eating alone.
As Pride counts out cash, his attention is drawn to a lone motorboat that slows as it enters the marshy, still backwaters next to three attached old buildings. The driver is thin, sleeveless white T-shirt with a blue and silver baseball cap that hides most of his face except for a dark beard. The man navigates the boat in close to shore until it disappears below a dilapidated wooden boardwalk that encircles the old buildings.
Pride closes his wallet and returns it to a pocket, the sounds of a metal door opening and closing only heightening his suspicions. Taking a few steps away from the fish truck he can clearly read three bright orange signs posted along the front of the weathered building.
Warning – This property is condemned
No Trespassing
PRIDE
(nods toward the warehouse)
You know anything about that place?
Pescaso shrugs, recounting the cash before stuffing it into the pouch of his soiled apron.
PRIDE
Listen, can you hold the trout in your cooler for a
little while? I'll be right back.
PESCADO
(follows Pride line of sight, but sees nothing)
Yeah, sure, what else I gotta do?
You been my only customer.
Pride pulls out a folded NCIS hat from his back waistband and slips it on. Next, he checks the clip in his 9mm pistol, and then moves cautiously across the cracked parking lot and up the rickety ramp.
PESCADO
(shouts after him)
I'm only here for a half hour, then I
gotta try another spot.
Pride waves back in acknowledgment. He ascends the ramp—avoiding the leaning handrails—and stops at the back of the building. The boardwalk abruptly ends with a square platform. He's standing above the muddy waters of a man-made canal, where two grimy windows flank an oddly new steel door.
Pride places his head close to the door. From somewhere inside he can hear the idling boat motor but none of the muffled conversations. He shifts the 9mm to his left hand and slowly pushes down the handle.
A loud click sounds underneath his feet as a small section of the square platform unhinges, and a trapdoor swings open. There's no time to react, and he falls twenty feet before hitting the dirt floor below. His right leg takes most of the impact, bones breaking as his body collapses-unconscious.
Two men immediately stop what they're doing, startled by Pride's sudden appearance. The bearded man cuts the motorboat's engine, while the other man set down a large crate at the edge of the concrete dock. They both jog to where the dimly lit interior now has a beam of sunlight coming from the open trapdoor.
Open, riser-stairs angle above the unconscious man. The steps allow access to the warehouse through the steel door—but only if you have the key. Once the trapdoor was activated, a short, metal shoot—like ventilation ductwork—directed the intruder inside the building, depositing him at their feet .
DARK, BEARDED MAN
(gazing upward)
Damn Vickers, I told ya that booby-trap
was worth the extra money.
THIN MAN WITH PONYTAIL HAIR
(grabs one of the steps support posts)
But, Dupree, he's a Fed. It says so on his hat. I can't go back
to prison. I'm tellin' ya, I really can't…we gotta do something.
DUPREE
Yea, yea, don't mess your pants. Let me think.
Dupree grabs Pride's 9mm that fell out of his hand, pacing back and forth as he scratches his scruffy chin with the barrel of the gun.
DUPREE
So, what if he never wakes up? He can't arrest us…can he?
What if we give him just a little of the good stuff?
We got plenty back in them crates…and the boss will
never know the difference.
He slaps Vickers' shoulder.
DUPREE
That'll keep him quiet.
VICKERS
(nods vigorously)
I'll go open a new box. Be right back.
Vickers runs off as Dupree holsters the 9mm into the front of his thread-bare kaki pants. Squatting beside Pride's unmoving form, he pokes a finger at the obviously contorted thigh bone and shakes his head. Dupree rolls Pride onto his side, extracting his cell phone from a back pocket. Pushing several buttons, he checks it for recent messages. Finding none, he smiles as Pride groans in pain.
DUPREE
Hurry up, can't ya see the poor man's in pain.
Suddenly, we're back in the woman's bedroom as she bolts upright. Startled and breathing hard, she pushes aside a beautiful handmade quilt, and gets out of bed.
Bare feet pad across a polished hardwood floor to an open window where the woman stares outside. Moonlight illuminates manicured grounds—white fenced pastures, horse barns and greenhouses—with an eerie glow. The woman folds her arms across her chest, deeply troubled by the dream.
The following morning, Christopher and Brody walk around a street corner as they near the brick entrance to the NCIS office. With hot coffee in hand, they see a woman pacing by the door.
BRODY
Hello, I'm Agent Brody…this is Agent LaSalle.
Can we help you?
The woman turns around—wearing black jeans, and boots—she hesitates to answer as she adjusts the long strap of her purse over one shoulder. At five-foot-six, she's not thin, but an athletic size 12.
WOMAN
Yes. I need to speak with an officer/agent right away.
I think someone that works here is in trouble.
Brody unlocks the door and holds it open.
BRODY
And who would that be?
Woman enters, scanning the room for any clues that could identify the man in her nightmare.
WOMAN
My name is Audrey Gustafson. I saw a man wearing an NCIS
hat fall through a trapdoor in an old building. He accidently stumbled
into a location used to hide drugs, and I'm sure he's hurt. I think
both legs are broken.
We have to find him…and we have to do it quickly.
CHRISTOPHER
Okay. Where? Can you give us a description?
An address for the building?
AUDREY
The man was tall, I think brownish hair, but it was hard
to tell underneath the hat. He was wearing blue jeans
and a light-colored shirt.
I don't know anything else.
CHRISTOPHER
(sarcastically)
Well, that narrows it down
Brody frowns at his bluntness and pulls out her phone. Dialing a number, she points Christopher to check upstairs. He nods, taking the steps two at a time.
BRODY
(shouts)
Its goes straight to voice mail.
CHRISTOPHER
(off camera)
Pride! Pride…you up here?
Brody pockets her phone, moving quickly into the kitchen, and then out into the back courtyard—both empty.
BRODY
He's not down here.
AUDREY
Pride? Is that his name? Do you have a picture
somewhere?
Christopher jogs back down the stairs.
BRODY
On that desk
(she points)
It was taken at his daughter's graduation.
Audrey doesn't wait for the agents before grabbing it.
AUDREY
This is the man. We have to help him.
Brody takes the silver frame out of Audrey's hands, and pulls out a chair, indicating her to sit.
BRODY
Okay, from the beginning.
Where were you when you saw him?
Audrey hesitates, then sits as Christopher crosses his arms and stands directly behind her.
AUDREY
I…can sometimes see things before they happen.
CHRISTOPHER
(chuckling)
Wait…you're a fortune teller?
AUDREY
(annoyed)
I have no crystal ball.
I'm a Reiki master.
A person, who believes that all living beings give off
a universal energy and I use that to help heal the
mind and soul.
The Japanese call it Ki, the Chinese Chi, while most of the
Western world uses the term Holy Spirit.
But, Reiki is not a religion.
It's more of an…understanding.
Science proved the existence of this energy back in 1939
with the Kirlian photographs.
You know, the halo that surrounds living things, and
I use it to connect with people
when they most need it.
Brody and Christopher exchange skeptical glances.
CHRISTOPHER
So, you've done this before?
AUDREY
Yes. Many times, although not in New Orleans.
I just moved back here when my mother was diagnosed
with cancer. But, it started when I was in a car accident
at the age of four.
I had dreamed about the accident several days earlier,
but, I didn't understand until I was older.
My grandmother had the same skills and she taught me.
It's like seeing a vibration—a musical note-instead
of hearing it.
BRODY
Like dogs can hear high pitched whistles.
AUDREY
(irritated)
Most animals can sense an earthquake before it strikes.
Smell odors that are undetected by humans, and yes,
hear sounds from miles away.
Science has proven those facts.
But, over the centuries, humans have lost that unique
equilibrium with nature. Love and compassion has
been replaced with an insatiable quest
for cold, blunt gadgets.
PATTON
(wheels himself into the room)
She's right. Years ago my cousin went to a Reiki master
when he was diagnosed with leukemia. They practice
holistic healing, and he lived two years longer
than the doctors thought possible.
BRODY
Ok, but, if Pride is really hurt, how do we find him?
PATTON
(types on the computer attached to wheelchair)
How 'bout we just ping his cell phone? I got it.
A mile away, northeast of the French Quarter,
near Cleburne Avenue.
CHRISTOPHER
Patton, keep an eye on Miss Audrey until we call
you with an update.
Brody and Christopher drive to the location, finding police already blocking the entrance to an alley. Yellow crime scene tape extends out into the street. Detectives circle the body that has already been placed inside the medical examiner's black body-bag.
DETECTIVE MARCONI
(50's, gray hair, clean-shaven, short and stocky)
LaSalle, what an unpleasant surprise.
(joking tone)
Agent Brody.
(he nods a friendly greeting)
I doubt this guy is military, so why are
you here? And, where's Pride?
All three move under the crime scene barrier and towards the lifeless body.
CHRISTOPHER
Pride went missing this morning,
but his cell pinged at this location. So, why is
NOPD narcotics here, and not a
homicide detective?
MARCONI
Multitasking…what else.
Along with being underpaid, we're badly understaffed.
Two years ago we had detectives for street-level
narcotics, a proactive patrol, and a task force for
each of the eight districts.
Hell, now there's one unit per area. It's a damn
mess and the scumbags—like this guy-know it.
(he squats to uncover the victim's face)
Look familiar?
Brody and Christopher let out an audible sigh of relief, both shaking their heads at a thin man with ponytail hair.
MARCONI
GSW to the chest.
(he waves over another detective)
Found a few of these blue pills in his pocket,
a junkie, maybe a dealer, don't know yet.
(standing, he introduces the other detective)
This is detective Joseph Totten, on loan to us from
the 1st district.
TOTTEN
(dark hair, mustache, 6'2", broad shoulders.
The man extracts a pen from his shirt pocket
to use like a pointer)
We can see both of the victim's wrists are badly bruised.
Probably struggled for an hour, maybe more.
He didn't come here willingly.
But…why would they send one of their own
into the Great Beyond? He must 'a
pissed off someone higher up on
the food chain.
CHRISTOPHER
(calls Patton)
We got a body…it's not Pride. Can you
make his phone ring?
Patton types on his computer until Christopher and Brody hear a familiar sound.
The agents follow the ringing to one of the many hanging flower baskets that decorate the old iron lamp posts. Christopher reaches up, retrieves the phone, and answers it.
CHRISTOPHER
Thanks Patton. We got it.
Hold tight, we'll be back soon.
An hour later, Brody and Christopher return to the NCIS office.
Audrey nervously stands as soon as they enter.
AUDREY
Patton said you found a body…whose?
CHRISTOPHER
(shakes his head)
Oh, no, first you're gonna tell us everything.
He grabs her elbow to escort her into the interrogation box, but Patton blocks him with his wheelchair.
PATTON
This is Audrey Gustafson
(long pause)
She didn't do anything except come here to help.
Audrey twists her arm away from Christopher's tight grip.
AUDREY
Arrest me if you think otherwise.
Because, I plan to find Agent Pride even without
your help.
CHRISTOPHER
Wait, the same Gustafson that owns Fair Winds Plantation
out on Old River Road?
AUDREY
Yes. My great-grandfather was PGT Beauregard.
Yes, I know, the famed Confederate general.
But, I'm not a typical Southerner. I 'got over' the war a
long time ago. Never embracing the Cause', nor
pretending to be a Southern Belle.
I moved away from New Orleans the minute I turned
eighteen and never looked back.
I'd much rather be in Philadelphia, helping my daughter
move into her new apartment.
So, believe me or not…but release me.
PATTON
Isn't Fair Winds supposed to be haunted?
AUDREY
People have always liked to tell stories.
CHRISTOPHER
Like you're doing now?
AUDREY
(grabs her purse off the chair)
Have a nice day Agent LaSalle.
From a dark corner of the huge open warehouse a black soldier walks into the dim light. The angle of the setting sun casts bright rays through the grimy windows above, highlighting tiny particles of dust floating in the air.
The soldier is wearing the blue uniform of a Union, Civil War private, a musket tightly gripped in one hand.
Suddenly, Pride is standing beside the soldier, both looking down at his unconscious form.
PRIDE
Am I dead?
SOLDIER
Naw…ya seen lots 'a dead people before.
You're not dead, just having a little chat with me.
(faces Pride)
You investigate crimes against military
men…right?
PRIDE
Why? Who are you?
SOLDIER
Private Cyrus Johnson, Company D, 24th US Colored
infantry Regiment, discharged on completion of my
term of service, September 30, 1865.
PRIDE
(stares at him)
What? How can that be?
CYRUS
I was once a slave, but I'm forever a soldier.
I've been waiting for you.
PRIDE
I don't understand.
CYRUS
I ran away from a plantation during a heavy spring
rain in 1863, made it to Washington, enlisted with the
Union to fight and to free my family, but…
He turns and uses the end of his musket to point upward towards a thick wooden beam that runs the length of the warehouse. High overhead, an image suddenly begins to crystalize into focus.
Pride sees three bodies hanging from old hemp ropes. All obviously slaves, one is female, while the other two are young males. Their clothes and faces appear unmarked by time.
CYRUS
That's my mama. She was what you'd call a soothsayer,
and a healer back in Africa. The other two are my younger
brothers. They were hung a week after Lee surrendered to
Grant, but I, well, I didn't get mustered out of the army
til it was too late.
Overcome with emotions, Cyrus presses a hand to his forehead and bends at the waist. Sitting on the dirt floor, he gently places the old musket next to him. Pride sits as well, feeling oddly disconnected from his earthly existence.
CYRUS
They were hung because I escaped, and because I dared
fight against the Rebs. So, when I got home, and
heard what the bounty hunters had done, I came here
to give 'em a proper burial.
But, I was ambushed by white hooded men.
Cyrus sniffles, wiping tears off his cheeks.
CYRUS
I asked the Almighty to take 'em to a better place,
but leave me here. I want justice.
Don't you think they deserve justice?
PRIDE
Private, that was over 150 years ago.
How can I help?
CYRUS
Nothing is lost to the universe. What we are
inside…every thought, every action is recorded by our
soul, like little scars.
The earth is nothing but a school—a hard teacher to be
sure—but how else can the Almighty pound into our
thick skulls the
lessons we need to know?
PRIDE
So, I'm not dead, but I'm supposed to help
you because the universe is keeping score?
CYRUS
Now you're getting the idea.
Listen, you never really had a choice.
The energy in a place, or around a person
is everything. This warehouse used to be an auction
house for human flesh. Then, once the war started, they
used it to hide thousands of bales of cotton.
Smuggler's boats from foreign countries would come
here late at night trading 'King Cotton' for
guns and supplies.
Cyrus grins at Pride, determination replacing sadness.
CYRUS
Smugglers used it in my time and
in yours. An evil place to be sure. And, you and me, we
gonna fix that once and for all.
Cyrus and Pride silently watch as Dupree strolls back into the open, dusty room and rolls Pride onto his back. Kneeling beside the unconscious body, Dupree pries open Pride's mouth and inserts another blue pill under his tongue.
PRIDE
(faces Cyrus)
You're nothing but a drug induced hallucination.
CYRUS
Naw, I told ya.
The name's Private Cyrus, and together
we're gonna right a terrible wrong.
Cyrus stands and takes several steps toward Dupree. Reaching out a hand, the ghost soldier tries to squeeze it closed around Dupree's throat, but the man feels nothing. Frustrated, Cyrus sits back down in the dirt while Dwayne watches in amazement.
CYRUS
I bet ya'd never guess whose great-granddaddy sired
that boy?
Pride's disbelieving gaze moves from Dupree to Cyrus and back again.
CYRUS
That's right…one and the same.
The blood line that ran through the bounty
Hunters—the men who killed my family, and
the leader of the white hooded gang—are
that boy's relatives.
The next day, back in the lab at NCIS, Loretta and Sebastian search for clues on Vickers 'dead body.
Brody and Christopher listen to the report via the computer screen in the main office.
LORETTA
I'm afraid I've got bad news and worse news.
The slug I pulled from this man's chest is a positive
match for Dwayne's gun.
The FBI will have to be notified.
However, if this man was shot by Dwayne,
then, where is he now? And, if he's injured, as
our guest as suggested…do we trust her?
BRODY
Marconi searched the alley. No other blood spatter.
No other bullet holes. So, we have Pride's gun and
phone at the crime scene, but no Pride.
I don't know…it seems like all we've got are questions.
LORETTA
And, I have another one to add to the list.
The drugs found in this man's system, and
in his pocket, is a new pill form of heroin,
disguised to look like the painkiller, Percocet.
I've heard reports of it in Kentucky,
but this is the first I've seen it in New Orleans.
SEBASTIAN
(steps into the computer picture)
It raises huge safety concerns for the general public.
On the street, people think they're buying
the same opiate prescribed by their
doctor, who, probably now refuses to refill
the meds.
But, this pill is concentrated heroin powder.
A deadly addiction, but, one that brings the dealers
a whole new crop of customers…like suburban
housewives, stressed out corporate types,
and high school junkies.
LORETTA
Yes, yes, we get the picture.
Also, Mr. Vickers had mud and grass on his
clothing, both common to the Mississippi marsh
areas. Sorry, nothing to point us to a
specific location.
She brings up a topographical map showing a huge area.
LORETTA
The only other clue is a wood splinter lodged in
the victim's palm, suggesting he'd recently been
near some of our older docks.
CHRISTOPHER
Great…that narrows down our search to a 350 square
mile radius, with the entire city straddling the mud
of the Mississippi.
Patton types on his computer as a city map appears. Overlaying the information , they all watch as numerous green circles appear as possible locations to search.
Some miles away, Audrey buys coffee at a drive through stand and parks in a nearby lot. Taking off her sunglasses, she tosses them onto the empty passenger seat and studies a large paper map.
Cars speed by on a busy highway in front of her, holding her attention for only a moment until she goes back to the map. Placing a finger on a location near the Mississippi River, she makes a small circle with a red Sharpie.
Next, she types in an address on her phone and uses the red marker again to place an X on the paper map. Then, she does the same for another location, and another, until she's mapped out a course of action.
Putting her sunglasses on, she pulls back out into traffic and lets the navigation on her phone lead her to the first location—a local fish store. Exiting the car, she speaks with employees, customers and bosses, before driving to the next open market. Checking them out one by one.
At the NCIS office, Christopher's phone rings. It's Audrey.
AUDREY
(voice only)
I've found something…a man, I think was the
last person to see your agent.
Brody and Christopher grab their guns and leave headquarters, speeding to the address given.
The agents pull into an old parking lot near a marshy bend in the river. Audrey is standing beside a mobile fish truck; a rotund man is pulling at the strings of a soiled apron. Red letters on the side of the truck read:
I Got the Pole—Come Get the Fish
Christopher and Brody exit their vehicle.
BRODY
What'd you find?
AUDREY
This man, Mr. Pescado
The Fishman raises an eyebrow, shrugging as if he couldn't possible know anything of importance.
CHRISTOPHER
(shows his badge and a picture of Pride)
Agent LaSalle, and Agent Brody, NCIS.
Have you seen this man?
PESCADO
Yeah, sure, that's the guy. I told him I was
leaving in a half hour. It's not my fault he never
came back.
But hey, I still got the trout. You can have it.
Holy mackerel…I can't believe he called the
cops on me.
BRODY
We're not here about the trout, Mr. Pescado,
we're here because he's a federal agent that's
been missing since yesterday.
Why didn't you call the authorities?
PESCADO
Lady, he paid me…no skin off my nose.
I got a business to run and this is the only money
my family has to live on.
I just thought, maybe, he changed his mind.
You know, found a lady-friend to cook his dinners
(he winks at Audrey and Brody)
Ok, so I should 'a called the cops. But I ain't one to
stick my nose into someone's
affair—get it—affair.
Christopher, Brody and Audrey shake their heads as they walk back to their cars. Christopher calls for backup before popping open the trunk. He and Brody slip into bullet-proof vests, and Velcro the front closed. Audrey watches in silence.
Several minutes pass before a SWAT truck pulls into the parking lot followed by four squad cars, all with sirens and lights off. Officers quickly exit their vehicles, taking up defensive positions.
Mr. Pescado climbs back in his truck and speeds away.
A large German Shephard police dog jumps out of the back of the truck, a leather collar tethered to a leash. His handler walks the animal to where Christopher and Brody are standing. Christopher retrieves a cotton jacket from the trunk and holds it out for the dog to smell.
CHRISTOPHER
I'm counting on you, boy.
(he kneels by the dog, but addresses the women)
This should help find Pride as quickly
as possible.
Audrey nods, stepping aside as the officers and dog follow Pride's scent across the cracked parking lot and up the rickety back ramp of the warehouse.
Brody and Christopher stay close behind as they circle the building, all halting when the dog abruptly sits.
The dog's handler knees on the gray-worn planked walkway, carefully running his gloved fingers between the wooden strips. He silently picks out a small, ripped piece of blue jean material, then, outlines the frame of the hinged trapdoor.
Brody and Christopher glance over the leaning handrail, searching for another way inside. Brody nods her head toward a trampled-down, narrow path along the water's edge. The team hurries back down the ramp, crosses a corner of the parking lot, then pushes through tall reeds and snake grass until they're below the street level of the building.
The officers halt in front of a metal garage door, the shadow of the ramp overhead. The door had been constructed over a narrow man-made canal of concrete, allowing small watercraft to come and go undetected.
A chain and padlock locked it closed with stagnate, green water lapping at the door's bottom trim. Along with the out-of-place garage door, the agents see a room addition about the size of small office. There's no visible outside door or windows—its unpainted siding still smelling like pine—old and new in sharp contrast to the dilapidated structure.
CHRISTOPHER
(strained whisper)
Pride's gotta be here.
The lead SWAT officer gives hand signals to his men as Brody and Christopher move aside. An officer steps forward with heavy-duty bolt cutters, while another slings his rifle over a shoulder, ready to roll the door up on command. Taking only a few seconds, the lock is cut and the signal given for the team to storm inside.
With rifles at the ready they enter the dim, cavernous warehouse at ground level. Staying to one side of the concrete, U-shaped dock, two officers board the tied boat, while the others surround the open office door. Loud video game noises are coming from the room addition, a good indication that they still have the advantage of surprise.
CHRISTOPHER
(shouting)
NCIS! Come out with your
hands up.
First, there're scuffling noises, then profanity, then the unmistakable snap as clips are shoved into pistols. Dupree takes cover behind 40-50 plastic-wrapped crates, a gun in both hands. He aims through the door and fires repeatedly.
The sniper-trained officers quickly take out Dupree when he tries to run. The SWAT leader kicks away the dead man's weapon, before ordering his men to check for other threats.
The dog and his handler find Pride's body underneath open-riser stairs, the weight of which, is supported by four posts sunk deep into the dirt. The agents holster their weapons as Christopher calls for the paramedics. Brody kneels beside Dwayne's body, nervously checking for a pulse, then relief as she nods to LaSalle that he's still alive. While they wait, both agents glance up to a metal shoot twenty feet above their heads, piecing together what must've happened to Pride.
Audrey follows the paramedics through the open garage door and around the man-made dock.
Cyrus and Pride watch the events unfold from a back corner. The lifeless forms that had once belonged to Cyrus' family—mother, and two brothers-slowly disappear like wisps of smoke.
CYRUS
I told ya…I only needed ya for a little while.
A stronger energy than our own to bring help.
Now, the evil that was once Dupree and his
relatives can roast in hell.
Everything is as it should be.
Besides, how else did ya think
ya were gonna help?
Unconscious and with two broken legs…
crazy ol' man.
PRIDE
Crazy old man!
CYRUS
(his image fading)
Yeah, I'm 23, how old are you?
PRIDE
Never mind. So, what happens now?
CYRUS
The past has always blended with the present.
Always has, always will.
You'll be fine, and someday we'll see each other again.
I have peace, and ya have work to do.
Cyrus disappears and Pride is suddenly yanked back into his own body.
Audrey lets the paramedics work on Dwayne as a shimmering vibration draws her to the back corner—the exact place where Cyrus and Pride had been standing.
She steps up to the wood-planked wall, gently touching it before closing her eyes. After a moment she opens them, her focus is pulled upward to a heavy beam that runs the length of the high ceiling. But it's empty. She joins Brody and Christopher as they all follow the paramedics outside. Pride's unconscious form is strapped to a stretcher for transport.
AUDREY
(whispers)
He'll be alright now…they all will.
CHRISTOPHER
All? What you mean all?
AUDREY
(smiles)
I'll let Agent Pride explain when he wakes up.
(pause)
Am I allowed to visit him at the hospital?
I have a few questions?
BRODY
Don't we all.
CHRISTOPHER
(grabs Audrey's arm)
You saved his life. It would 'a been
days before we found this location.
Maybe, too late to have helped him.
Audrey acknowledges the praise.
Late that evening, the NCIS team is all in the hospital waiting room. Blackness pressing against large, uncovered windows. A small table is surrounded by orange vinyl chairs, the top cluttered with empty coffee cups. There's no food or candy wrappers anywhere, evidence that everyone felt too anxious to have an appetite. Audrey waits with them.
CHRISTOPHER
(to the group)
We say nothing to Pride yet about his
gun being used in a homicide.
A doctor in scrubs enters through automatic doors.
DOCTOR
I'm Doctor Chalmers. Agent Pride is out of surgery
but still in ICU. It's going to be a long recovery.
Both ankles were broken, and three of the seven
tarsal bones in his right foot were fractured.
He has a subtrochanteric fracture…
The doctor pats his thigh bone to demonstrate.
…and I put a rod in his left fibula that may, or may not
need to be removed…we'll have to wait and see.
He's very lucky that none of the sharp breaks
pierced the skin.
Since he was in a bacteria filled environment for over
24 hours, things could've been much worse.
Chalmers stands next to Loretta.
CHALMERS
You can go into see him…tomorrow, but I have to
warn you not to be too alarmed by the extensive
swelling and bruising.
He'll have to be in a wheelchair for eight to twelve
weeks, but I think it's safe to rule out any long term
deformities.
Let's give the surgery and medication time, and
just stay focused on the healing process.
Christopher, Brody and Sebastian group up near the exit door as Doctor Chalmers takes Loretta by the elbow and escort her into a private corner. Everyone seems to have forgotten about Audrey, but she's close enough to overhear the doctor's conversation.
CHALMERS
Loretta, there's something else.
Loretta nods, anxiously waiting for more bad news.
CHALMERS
Agent Pride was given extensive doses of the illegal
drug that was found in the warehouse.
LORETTA
Yes. Heroin pressed into a pill form
to look like Percocet.
CHALMERS
It's a powerful narcotic and very addictive.
LORETTA
I know…what are you saying?
DOCTOR
I'm saying he's going to be in a lot of pain through a
long and extensive rehab.
I'm concerned Agent Pride may not be able to kick
the habit when the time comes.
LORETTA
(shakes head)
Dwayne is not like other men.
You don't have to worry.
CHALMERS
I hope you're right.
The following afternoon, Detective Marconi and Detective Totten are back inside the old warehouse. Using box cutters, Marconi slices through the first of many plastic-wrapped crates sitting on wooden pallets. Inside, are hundreds of boxes, each containing pills of Percocet.
MARCONI
(points to a label)
Damn, Totten, look at this.
This UPS bar code says its ready for transport.
What time is it?
TOTTEN
Why?
MARCONI
Because, these crates are supposed to
be picked up today at 4 pm.
TOTTEN
It's 4 pm now.
Marconi checks the clip in his weapon, as he steps over to a high window that faces the street.
MARCONI
Radio the team outside.
Totten pulls out a walkie-talkie as the scene switches to the men inside a police truck parked where the fish truck had been.
TOTTEN
(voice from inside truck)
Greg, get the truck out of sight…repeat…crates
scheduled to be picked up at 4, we can throw a
net over the whole lot if we…
A massive explosion cuts off the transmission as a fireball of broken wood slams into the side of the police truck, shattering the front windshield and denting the sides.
The officers in the truck are thrown to the floor. Seconds later, they scramble back to their positions, many bleeding from deep cuts.
GREG
Marconi…Totten…
Respond! Respond!
It's useless. The warehouse is fully engulfed in flames. The detectives instantly killed.
Out of sight, a Jeep Wrangler idles. It has black, tinted windows with big off-road tires and is parked around the corner. A muscular man, bald with a Vandyke beard sits behind the wheel holding a cheap cell phone in one hand. Next to him, in the passenger seat, is a thin woman with brown stringy hair and bushy eyebrows. She takes the burner phone from the man's hand, removes the battery, and then drops both into a paper cup filled with soda.
He shifts the vehicle into reverse and backs into an alley. Turning around, they slowly drive away, completely unnoticed.
That same afternoon, the NCIS team and Audrey are back at the hospital. Sebastian walks out of Pride's room. His face is ashen, his expression grim.
SEBASTIAN
You can go in, Loretta, you too, Audrey.
Christopher wants to introduce you.
(he touches Loretta's arm)
He looks bad.
The women enter Pride's room just as Brody exits, dialing her phone.
CHRISTOPHER
(speaks to Audrey)
Brody's calling Laurel, his daughter.
We didn't want to worry her before we had
some news.
Loretta moves to the opposite side of the bed. Dwayne is resting underneath cream-colored hospital blankets. He has tubes in both arms, bruised and battered from the fall. Both legs are in white plaster casts. He's groggy, but awake.
CHRISTOPHER
Pride, this is Audrey Gustafson.
Dwayne's eyes move to where she's standing, but he makes no other sound.
LORETTA
Dwayne, you're going to be fine, and this
lady had a lot to do with that.
CHRISTOPHER
Yeah, she helped with the investigation.
In fact, we wouldn't have found you
without her.
Audrey silently mouths the words 'thank you' to Christopher.
AUDREY
It's nice to finally meet you, Agent Pride.
PRIDE
(he hardly looks at her)
My legs…how 'am I going to do my job?
CHRISTOPHER
Listen, we're calling Laurel to tell her
you're alright.
Don't worry about the thugs in the warehouse; their
both on Loretta's table. Patton's scrubbing
the computers to find the ring leader, 'cause
we know that Vickers or
Dupree didn't have the brains to handle such a
complicated operation.
According to their arrest records, I'd say they were both
a few wheelbarrows short of a full load.
So, not much left to do.
PRIDE
Even with all the drugs in me…
(he pauses to wets his dry lips)
…I can still tell when I'm being fed a line
of crap.
(this time he really looks at Audrey)
Who is she?
LORETTA
Audrey Gustafson, of the Fair Winds Gustafsons.
PRIDE
Fair Winds Plantation?
(he closes his eyes)
What's the story with that place?
AUDREY
Well, it's kind of long and convoluted.
Christopher urges her to keep talking, hoping to get Dwayne's mind off his injuries.
AUDREY
My great grand-father was PGT Beauregard,
and his father, Judge Beauregard,
purchased the property in 1809.
It stayed in the family until the crash in 1929
when it went through a foreclosure.
Four years later my
grandmother married into money, and worked
out a deal with the national historic society.
Christopher nods for her to keep going.
AUDREY
So, as a compromise, she had to donated
eighty acres—part of the original battlefield
during the War of 1812—to the state.
For that gift, she was allowed to keep the
house as private property.
That's why people think it's haunted…because
of the mass graves on the property.
PRIDE
No, that's not what I meant.
Did they own slaves?
The others in the room are taken aback by the question, but Audrey is not.
AUDREY
Yes. I'm sorry to say they did. Some of the original Slave
Quarters still stand today, there listed on the Historic
Register, along with the two working cotton gins,
a smoke house, tobacco shed, and two acres of cotton
we're required to plant every year as scenery for the tourist.
PRIDE
(raises his head off the pillow)
Do you have any old photographs?
Loretta and Christopher exchange concerned glances, confused by Dwayne's odd questions.
AUDREY
I have several old books from that era.
PRIDE
Can you bring them here? Can you do it now?
I need to learn things.
LORETTA
Okay, Dwayne, you just got out of surgery.
I think you need to rest and not be poking
into the past.
CHRISTOPHER
Yeah, let me see if Brody reached Laurel, and
when she can get here.
AUDREY
That's a good idea. I can bring the albums another
day when you're feeling stronger.
LaSalle's phone rings, then a second later Loretta's phone buzzes as well. Christopher's face hardens, and he hardly says a words but he and Loretta exchange grave glances.
CHRISTOPHER
Is it confirmed? Marconi and
Totten were inside?
Christopher hangs up, quickly moves to the door, a not-so-subtle hint that everyone is needed back at the office.
CHRISTOPHER
(to Pride)
There's been an explosion at the warehouse.
Detectives Marconi and Totten…were killed.
A bomb exploded when they were opening the
crates of narcotics.
Authorities on scene now. They think it was
a remote detonation.
Pride rubs a hand over a scruffy chin, sad and frustrated that there seems to be no answers.
PRIDE
Keep me informed. Narcotics will
want to take over.
Dwayne keeps his eyes on Audrey as she waits for the others to exit first.
AUDREY
(whispers to Pride)
I'll be back in an hour.
It's long past the promised hour, the hour late, but Audrey returns. Visiting hours over, she waits around the corner from the nurse's station until its sole occupant leaves to check on another patient.
Audrey is carrying three, old leather-bound books. One has a red cover, the other two are black. Passing the empty desk, she slips into Dwayne's room undetected.
Pride is sitting upright in his hospital bed, his head is turned away from the door, but his eyes are open. Having pushed the ICU room door open only an inch, she hesitates, then decides not to bother him. She starts to leave, but changes her mind again, and enters the room.
Sitting near the door, in another orange, vinyl chair—the same style as in the waiting room—she places the books on her lap. The room is dimly lit, the window blinds closed, and the machines surrounding his bed emit a steady beeping sound.
As Dwayne turns his head, his eyes lock on the books in her lap.
PRIDE
You brought them.
AUDREY
I said I would.
(she stands, placing the two black-covered books on a table)
I think we should start with this one.
(she sets the red on in his lap)
PRIDE
Have you heard any more about the explosion?
AUDREY
Only what the local news channels reported.
PRIDE
(he rubs a hand over the book's cover)
Thank you…for bring this.
(pauses)
Why do I get the feeling that you're
the only one who understands
that something…very strange happened to
me in that warehouse?
AUDREY
I am a Reiki master, someone who can see the
energy that surrounds every person and place.
PRIDE
(head jerks up)
My God…you're a soothsayer just
like his mama.
AUDREY
That's a very old term. Are we looking for the
soothsayer in these books?
PRIDE
Yes, and her son.
She opens to the first page.
AUDREY
I could feel an evil in that place, but I didn't
'see' the bomb.
I'm sorry, I wish I could've helped those detectives.
(changes subject)
You know, Ralph Waldo Emerson once said:
"That life on earth is like being on a flight of stairs.
There are steps below which we seem to have ascended,
and others above, which go upward out of sight."
PRIDE
Beauregard…Emerson, a student of history?
AUDREY
I grew up with a real connection to the names
and dates of the past just because they were
a part of my family tree…except…
(she looks away with a sheepish grin)
But, I must confess, while I was listening to the old family
stories, I would always cheer for Grant, or Lincoln.
Got me in a lot of trouble.
She shrugs and points to a black and white picture of an old woman sitting on a front porch.
The house is modest, a clothesline extending from a screened porch. The line is filled with crisp bed sheets and clean shirts, all drying in a breeze that's been frozen in time.
AUDREY
This is my great Aunt Betsey at her home in Natchez.
I guess I sometimes get annoyed that the
younger generation thinks all knowledge comes
from someone's blog.
PRIDE
Those who don't know history are doomed to repeat
its mistakes.
AUDREY
Quoting Edmund Burke…now who's the
student of history?
Pride continues flipping through the pages, taking his time to study each grainy image.
PRIDE
General Beauregard, huh…what's the story with him?
Audrey pulls the vinyl chair closer to the bed and sits.
AUDREY
Pierre Gustave Toutant Beauregard, it was
said that his name was taller than the man.
The corners of Pride's mouth turn up, but he doesn't take his eyes off the pictures.
AUDREY
In the initial months of the Civil War the
South was still trying to find a general to lead them.
Robert E. Lee was a career officer with
the United States Army. Giving over 35 years of service before
resigning his commission to follow his home state of Virginia
into the Confederacy.
Beauregard was in South Carolina—the hotbed of secession—and
he was the Rebel general ordered to open fire on Fort
Sumter, thus starting the war.
He continued to fight at Bull Run, Shiloh, and the siege
of Corinth until his temperament and that of Jefferson
Davis clashed, relegating my great-grandfather
to occupy history's backstage.
PRIDE
A Southern heritage many would be proud of.
AUDREY
I only admire their courage, not their actions.
Never has there been a worse reason for people
to go to war.
Pride sucks in a quick breath and shifts his weight as a jolt of pain courses through him. Reaching for a button that's attached to a machine beside his bed, he gives the IV line several pumps. Closing his eyes, he lays his head back, panting until the medication takes hold and his breathing slowly returns to normal.
AUDREY
My mother was on a morphine pump.
Why don't I come back tomorrow and let you rest.
Pride shakes his head, eyes bloodshot, and cheeks sunken on an unshaven face.
PRIDE
What about you? Husband? Family?
AUDREY
(sighs and looks away)
Cancer took both parents and a heart attack took Nolan
four years ago. But, we have six beautiful children…one
was killed in Afghanistan. He was an Army Ranger.
My grandmother passed many years ago, but she
taught me about Reiki.
She always seemed to know when people were hurting.
PRIDE
I'm divorce, one daughter, and people are
always pushing me to 'get back out there'.
How 'bout you?
AUDREY
(softly laughs)
You mean dating? Not really.
The minute I start prattling on about my connections
to the Civil War, most men run the other way.
I was seeing the bartender at a local pub where I play guitar
once a week, but I ended it a few months ago.
Pride turns another page and freezes.
PRIDE
This man here…
He points to a group picture of slaves in front of an old shed. Numerous wicker baskets are filled to the rim with the hard-shelled bolls that protect the soft cotton fibers inside, ready to be separated out.
PRIDE
…laying on his side, feet crossed.
Do you know his name?
Audrey stands, looking at the upside-down photograph.
AUDREY
When I was 12 years old, I relentlessly pestered
my grandmother one summer to tell me
all the names she could remember.
Finally, she sat down
with me and I wrote each one on the
back of these pictures.
Pride lifts up a corner, then stops, reciting from memory what Cyrus had told him in the warehouse.
PRIDE
It's Private Cyrus Johnson, Company D
24th US Colored infantry regiment.
Discharged on September 30, 1865
Audrey pulls out the picture and turns it over, knowing Pride will be right.
AUDREY
Your right…Cyrus Johnson, runaway,
March 12, 1863.
Sheriff Landau hung family.
PRIDE
(takes photo from her hand)
I talked to this man in the warehouse.
I saw this woman…
He points to the older woman—her hands pressed together and resting against one cheek—forever in a praying position. The two boys are there as well. One, maybe fifteen, is lying on his side, up on an elbow, hat pulled low. The other boy, older, sits upright and farther away. He's wearing old, hemp trousers and a white shirt buttoned to the neck. One leg is pulled in close to his chest, his hands laced around his knee. Cyrus is lying on his side in front of his mama, a defiant look on his face.
PRIDE
…and these two boys. They were hung
in the warehouse with her.
AUDREY
I felt something the moment I entered that building.
You must know they're at peace now.
PRIDE
Yes, Cyrus told me.
Audrey reaches back to collect her purse.
AUDREY
I'm sorry, but I have to leave.
I have an appointment.
(she checks her watch)
A patient on the fourth floor, a Vet, who tried to
commit suicide. I need to see him tonight.
I'll leave the albums
here and come back in a few days.
That'll give you time to…digest it all.
PRIDE
(confused)
Wait. I don't understand. Is all this
really preordained? I mean, Cyrus told me he'd been
waiting…for me… for over 150 years!
He said that Dupree's relatives
were the ones that had hung his family and killed him.
And, that my energy was needed to help him get justice.
But, how can that be?
How can the universe keep score?
I don't understand any of this?
AUDREY
I believe…that we are all given both
a set destiny and freewill.
We are unique beings that generate a
specific frequency.
Before we're born, we're assigned to a set of trials.
If we graduate from the 'school of life',
then in death, we advance to a higher state—college,
for an analogy.
If we fail—use our freewill to follow the path described by
the seven deadly sins-greed, lust, wrath, envy—and
so on, then we are mandated to return to
the 'school of earth' again and again
until we get it right.
Pride shakes his head, things still jumbled in his mind.
AUDREY
Listen, I have no doubt that you talked with Cyrus.
The consciousness of a man who
waited 151 years for justice.
I assure you, this experience was not
random, nor should it be taken lightly.
You've become a cop for a reason, chosen to help
people for a reason,
and I saw you in a dream for a reason.
Now, all we have to do is find out what
that reasons is.
Three days later Audrey enters Pride's hospital room only to find the nurse putting on fresh sheets. Her eyes flick to the table where the photo albums are neatly stacked.
AUDREY
Where's the man that was in here?
NURSE
At rehab. Take the elevator to the
basement, then take a left.
Can't miss it…smells like chlorine from the
therapy pool
Audrey exits, goes past the nurse's station and into the elevator, then steps out at the basement.
Turning left, she follows the strong scent of chlorine. Opening a wide door, she see that the therapy pool is empty. Concrete edges devoid of any water, tell her that no one has used it for several hours. She continues down the hallway until she comes to another door. Etched into the frosted glass pane, in big black letters, it reads: WEIGHT ROOM. She pushes the door open and enters.
Pride is sitting in a wheelchair, both legs in casts that are bent at the knees. His bruised arms are draped over the frame of the chair, each hand loosely holding onto a bar with cables leading back to a pulley system. The weight machine looms high over his head, but all the weights are in the resting position.
AUDREY
The insurance companies sure don't waste any time
before pushing patients out.
PRIDE
(surly)
Please take me back to my room.
AUDREY
(looks around)
Where'd they'd all go?
PRIDE
Well, let's see…MY team is working
on catching the ring leader that's suppling
New Orleans with a new, and potentially
deadly drug, while I'm sitting
on my ass, because I can't even lift a ten
pound weight.
AUDREY
No, I meant the guy who works here.
PRIDE
(sneers)
Another patient fell. The therapist had to get
help to take him back upstairs.
AUDREY
So, you're supposed to wait for him to
get back?
PRIDE
No, I'm supposed to go back to my room, because
it's time for my applesauce, prune juice diet.
AUDREY
(raises an eyebrow as she drops her purse on a bench)
Wow, someone got pushed out of the wrong
side of the bed this morning.
That's when she notices an old, boom-box style radio in the corner.
AUDREY
How 'bout we listen to some music while we wait?
PRIDE
No, how 'bout we don't.
Audrey ignores is gruff attitude and clicks on the power. Static comes over big black speakers located at opposite ends of the room. She turns the dial, stopping on 'The Drifters' 1964 version of "Under the Boardwalk', and turns up the volume.
AUDREY
I love this song…how 'bout a dance?
PRIDE
Are you joking?
AUDREY
Of course not…I never joke with a
cranky man.
She eases the weight pulleys out of his grip, before carefully pushing him into the center of the room.
AUDREY
(softly sings)
Oh when the sun beats down and burns the tar up on the roof
And your shoes get so hot you wish your tired feet were fire proof
Under the boardwalk, down by the sea, yeah
On a blanket with my baby is where I'll be.
PRIDE
Turn that off and take me back upstairs.
She stands to the side of his chair, pushing it hard so it rolls backwards on its own, like a dancer releasing a partner.
Pride lets the chair roll only a few feet, then reaches down, testily stopping the wheels.
AUDREY
(Under the boardwalk) out of the sun
(Under the boardwalk) we'll be havin' some fun
(Under the boardwalk) people walking above
(Under the boardwalk) we'll be falling in love
PRIDE
I told you…
AUDREY
Shhhh…
She continues singing while pushing him forward and backward—trying anything to get him to smile.
AUDREY
From the park you hear the happy sounds of a carousel
Mm-mm, you can almost taste the hotdogs and
French fries they sell…
She's stops when the door burst open, and in stomps Laurel.
LAUREL
Dad…what are you doing?
PRIDE
Rehab.
LAUREL
Doesn't look like any rehab I've seen.
And who's this?
PRIDE
Audrey Gustafson…a friend.
(finally, he smiles)
LAUREL
I went into your room upstairs, and you were gone.
Do you have any idea what went through my mind?
Her face is flushed, angry and emotional.
LAUREL
Dad, you almost died. The warehouse you
were in exploded. This is serious. They
could still be after you.
You don't need some nurse…
you need an armed bodyguard.
PRIDE
Laurel, I'm sorry they didn't tell you
where I was.
I didn't know you were coming today.
LAUREL
(turns on Audrey)
He doesn't need your services any longer.
I'm going to take care of him now.
PRIDE
Laurel, she's not a nurse, she's a…
a Reiki master.
In-tune with life's energy.
Laurel rolls her eyes, grabbing Audrey's purse and shoving it into her hands.
LAUREL
Like I said…we don't need some gypsy
helping us. I'm going to have Christopher
send over an armed officer to watch over you until
the doctor signs your release.
Laurel wheels her dad out of the room just as the therapist comes back.
THERAPIST
Wait, he's not done yet.
LAUREL
Oh, yes he is. I'm taking him back to his room,
and she's not coming with us.
Inside the black Jeep Wrangler the man speeds east along the Chef Menteur Highway, signs pointing him toward Biloxi.
MAN
(speaking to woman)
Reroute all boats to Biloxi Bay.
Notify everyone that we've switched
to plan B.
After twenty-four hours, we continue the distribution
east into Florida, and west to Texas.
Woman puts her hand on his leg to calm him.
WOMAN
Don't worry Carson, everyone knows the
routine. Destroy old phones, new computer
passwords, keep off street cameras,
and switch licenses plates.
CARSON
Oh Millie, what a damn mess.
Stupid Vickers and Dupree, they just
couldn't keep their hands outta the cookie jar.
Skimming off everyone's profit is
no different that stealing from the family.
MILLIE
Maybe, this could be Bobbie's chance to
move up?
CARSON
(his eyes move up to the rear-view mirrors, checking the surrounding cars)
Your little brother hasn't been off the
mountain since he and his high school
buddies took that road trip to Louisville.
And, your daddy had to go bail 'em out.
MILLIE
That was six years ago. He's grown up.
Her gaze shifts out the passenger window. The dazzling sun radiates off the sparkling waters of Lake Pontchartrain, but it means nothing to her.
MILLIE
We've all gotten a lot older.
CARSON
But, if Bobbie screws up again, he'll put the
whole town in jeopardy.
Seven families depend on this operation.
That's a lot of responsibility for a 24 year old.
MILLIE
He knows Carson. Hell, we all
know the risks…every day.
CARSON
I'm sorry, Millie, it's just this New Orleans
heat… I can't take it much longer.
I need our land…the serenity of our cool caves.
He reaches over to flick up the A/C, before turning both vents toward his face.
MILLIE
(wipes tears from her eyes)
They made us kill those men in the warehouse.
The Feds come into our community, shut
down the mines, took away our jobs.
171 million in profits go to the rich shareholders,
while they double our taxes.
CARSON
I know, darlin'. They strap us with all the
burden. Our poor little town has to wait for
police and fire to come over from Smith Grove.
Sydney lost his daddy's farm…burnt
to the ground. It ain't right.
Rich tourists hike into our caves for an
adventure. Spend a few dollars on over-priced
coffee and fake gemstones, then leave
us to haul away their garbage.
The state regulates us to death, then throw us
in jail if we fight back.
MILLIE
They won't take our mountain?
Will they Carson?
CARSON
No. Never.
(slams an angry fist into the steering wheel)
Jackson is buried up there, mama and
daddy…and so many others are in that graveyard.
Our lands are joined…your grand-daddy's and mine.
They fought for it, spilled blood to keep it away
from Confederate raiders.
Kentucky may have tried to stay neutral in the Civil War,
but neither side could keep their fingers out 'a the pie.
MILLIE
Your plan is solid, Carson. No communication
till we figure out what the Feds will do next.
We got enough money now so
Jan can afford her new heart medication.
CARSON
(humorless laugh)
Yeah…that arrogant, bastard…what
was his name, Martin Stink-head, or something
with that big pharmaceutical company. He
goes on T.V., pleads the Fifth, then smirks at
every question. And all our politicians
can do is give him a shame-on-you rant.
For God's sake,
he raised the price 5,000 percent,
just 'cause he could.
And, there we sat in our living room, you and me
Millie, having just buried Jackson
cause we couldn't afford the surgery.
MILLIE
But, they don't have the power any more.
We're smart. Not the mountain hillbillies
they take us for. We got plans, and
back-up plans.
CARSON
And, when we get to Plan D, we'll all
disappear. Use the same hiding places
our grand-daddies had over 150 years ago.
Hell, to the outside world, Carversville
is already a ghost town.
Later that afternoon, the team is working the case from the NCIS office. Christopher and Brody are at their desks, going over details, when Laurel walks in.
She's carrying a canvas grocery bag, the three leather-bound photo albums visible above the top.
CHRISTOPHER
(stands)
How's Pride doing today?
He starts to hug her, but immediately pulls back when she thrusts the bag into his hands.
LAUREL
Please give these back to that woman.
Every time I go visit Dad, he's staring at one
of the pictures. It's not healthy.
I want them gone.
Brody stands up and circles her desk.
BRODY
Which picture?
Laurel takes the red-covered book from the bag and opens it to a previously marked page. She removes the picture that shows a group of slaves, not knowing the connection her father felt to these people.
LAUREL
This one.
(she hands off the photo)
I mean, who is this, Audrey person, anyway?
She just shows up—out of the blue-with
vital information that saves my father.
Don't you all think that's suspicious?
Did you guys check her out?
Patton wheels into the room as Brody and Christopher continue to look at the picture.
PATTON
We checked. She's legitimate.
My cousin was helped by a Reiki master, and
he told me all about it.
It's not a religion, but a belief that when
the time is right, Reiki will find you.
LAUREL
(pinches the bridge of her nose)
This whole thing has me spooked. My dad almost died.
Two detectives died. What if…what if dad would've
still been inside?
I'm just asking you to check her out.
(she starts to leave, then stops)
Oh, and, thanks, you know, for assigning an armed
officer to stay at the hospital.
Laurel turns and walks out the front door. Patton carefully picks up the picturere, staring at the long ago image as if hypnotized.
Then, the large computer screen in the main office pops on with Loretta and Sebastian standing in the lab. Detective Totten and Marconi's charred remains are in the background.
LORETTA
I've taken several DNA samples off the detectives'
remains but the bomb residue
is a very common material.
The warehouse was just a distribution center.
Nothing connecting the dots back
to a location where the pills were made.
However…
(she holds up a tweezer with a tiny blue substance at the end)
This is a small sample of the drug.
Powdered heroin—laced with fentanyl—a
100 times stronger than morphine.
It's been pressed into pill form.
Simple, easy…no track marks,
no paraphernalia.
SEBASTIAN
(visible over her shoulder)
Easy for high school, or college kids to use in
their 'pharmacy parties'.
They take pills out of their parent's house,
or a friend's house, then all meet up at a private location.
Emptying the bottles into one common bowl,
everyone takes turns picking out
their favorite color, another name is Skittle Party.
A deadly form of Russian Roulette.
LORETTA
Yes.
These pills are blue or blue-green in color,
exactly like Oxycodone, or Percocet
Except this pill has a C stamped on it,
Instead of the usual M.
BRODY
A manufacture's name?
SEBASTIAN
Maybe, but there are hundreds across
the country.
So, I decided to concentrate on the cell phone that
was wired to the crate and detonate the explosives.
I pulled a few numbers off the SIMS card
and sent it to Patton to run down.
They all turn to Patton, who wasn't listening but continued to stare at the old photo.
CHRISTOPHER
Patton? The SMS card?
PATTON
Oh, yeah…it's just this picture…the people,
their eyes, it's almost like they can….
Anyway, the SIMS card.
He types on his computer, before displaying the information on the big screen.
PATTON
It's part of a batch that was
sold in Southeastern Kentucky.
BRODY
Anyway to narrow that down?
PATTON
No. Could try to run some of the numbers in use, but,
we'd need a judge to sign off on it.
LORETTA
(lifts a file from her desk)
So, I went back to Vickers and Dupree. They showed
minimal dental work and no fluorinated water.
Comparing that with their birth records—both men
grew up in a little town called Carversville.
And guess where's it's located?
CHRISTOPHER
Southeastern Kentucky.
(grabs his coat off the back of a chair)
Good work, team.
Let's go tell Pride, then, you and me, Brody,
can pack our bags for a little road trip.
BRODY
Nooo…, I like hot showers and food I
don't have to shoot and clean before eating it.
CHRISTOPHER
Come on, City Slicker. You too good for the
backcountry?
Besides, it'll be fun. I hear they got
Daniel Boone in a wooden coffin, inside one of
those caves, and you can walk right by him.
BRODY
(chuckles)
I suppose he's right next to the biggest stuffed
possum and an genuine, authentic treasure map
that's sold in every gift shop?
CHRISTOPHER
(ignores the snide comments)
Patton, scan that picture into our computer,
then return those books to Audrey.
PATTON
Will do.
Five hours later Christopher and Brody exit a plane at the Louisville airport and rent a car for a two hour drive to Carversville. They meet Sheriff Kersey of Smith Grove, and follow him to the outskirts of a run-down town—Carversville, population 624 souls.
Christopher and Brody exit a Ford Explorer underneath the shade of a huge oak. Both stretch out their back, then put on their identification NCIS hats.
The town is nestled in a valley that looks as if it was once a strip mine. Large boulders decorate every street corner, many painted with the town's colors—blue and silver—presumable to hide spray-painted graffiti. This rural community was built long ago amongst rolling hills, now heavily timbered as nature slowly reclaims what the town has forgotten.
Main Street is a narrow road. Potholes, faded striping and cracked sidewalks seem to be the town's only highlights. The store fronts all seem to have the same 1950's architecture facade, with rows of old parking meters glaring in the bright sunshine.
SHERIFF KERSEY
(adjusts his belt over wide hips)
I told ya there wasn't much here.
BRODY
(removes a black, police backpack from the SUV)
Yeah, you weren't kidding.
A gas station that looks like it was built in the
last century, Sydney's general store,
and look…a gift shop.
CHRISTOPHER
(grins at her remark)
What's the gift shop for?
SHERIFF KERSEY
(crosses the street and moves toward the old-west style, single building)
Tourist can pay to go into some of
the famous caves we got.
Like the one that's right behind the store.
For an extra fee the kids can
mine for gemstones.
Got a special room all set up.
Even got those fancy metal circular steps
that go down four stories,
just like Cathedral Caverns in Alabama.
Only ours is better.
Christopher raises an eyebrow, but says nothing about his home state of Alabama. Brody takes the lead, crossing the street behind the sheriff as she slips her arms into the straps of the backpack. Avoiding the wooden boardwalk in front of the gift shop, she takes her time, inspecting the outside of the little building. The sound of muffled voices move her around to the back of the shop, where several tourists are paying to start a cave tour.
Christopher crosses the deserted street behind Brody and the sheriff, but veers off to his left into a grassy, vacant lot.
CHRISTOPHER
Where's that path go?
KERSEY
A graveyard is up on the hill. Just a bunch
of old-timers, but some of the locals
still use it.
BRODY
Locals? How many?
KERSEY
(scratches his belly)
I don't know…maybe seven or
eight families. All the kids are bused into
Smith Grove for school.
We got a new diner, and the motel did
a complete remodel last year.
That's where I booked your rooms.
You did want two rooms? Right?
BRODY
Yes. Two.
How 'bout you show us this
cemetery?
KERSEY
(shakes his head and frowns)
No, I'm too old to be climbing hills.
But, you go right ahead…I'll wait here.
Can't miss the graveyard, it's
the only thing up there.
Well, except for another little cave that
don't interest the tourists, just
plain ol' dirt and rocks on the inside.
Brody and Christopher join up on the path and start hiking the steep incline. About halfway up, the sheriff gives a loud whistle to catch their attention. Turning around, they see the big man cup his hands close to his mouth, and shout at them.
KERSEY
Watch out for a family of skunks.
(he pauses to take a deep breath)
The mama don't take kindly to strangers.
Brody gives Christopher an 'I told you so' look before they finish the climb.
Once they reach the flat-top, a grassy meadow opens up, surrounded by tall pines. A rusty iron fence is clearly visible above the vegetation. An arched entryway with a swinging gate that's just wide enough for a casket and pallbearers. The graveyard is about the size of a double-wide trailer. Pillars of stone—some precariously leaning—depict angelic figures with folded wings or thick blocks with etched names.
BRODY
(slips off backpack and removes camera)
I think we should record all the names,
maybe Patton can find a connection.
Adjusting her hat so she can see through the lens, she weaves her way around each headstone marker, snapping picture after picture.
Christopher goes off in the opposite direction, then stops in the middle and takes off his NCIS hat. Using it to shield his eyes from the bright sunshine, he points to a shadowy area about fifty yards away in a thick grove of trees.
CHRISTOPHER
What do you make of that?
BRODY
(squints)
Looks like that other cave.
Maybe, it's where mama skunk lives.
CHRISTOPHER
Let's live dangerously, City Slicker,
and find out.
Brody secures the camera strap around her neck, picks up the backpack, and follows LaSalle out the rusty gate. A few minutes later they're both peering inside a dark cavern, sniffing cautiously just to make sure there's no unwanted animals.
Christopher steps into the coolness first, with Brody close behind. They both take a few minutes to let their eyes adjust, then she angles the camera upward. She snaps off multiple pictures of the walls and ceiling while LaSalle run a hand over the crumbling dirt walls.
CHRISTOPHER
Sheriff was right…nothing special here.
Suddenly, Brody steps on something metallic. There's a loud click and she freezes in place. Christopher immediately knows the danger they're in, and lunges for her.
He grabs her arm, yanking her with him as he dives behind a huge bolder. Instantly, an explosion rips apart the cave's walls and ceiling. Rocks and debris collapse in around them, sealing them both inside a suffocating tomb.