NCIS: Origins

It's pretty important to get these case files

typed into the computer.

Being able to search just by clicking a button

seems like the future, you know? Shoot. It's overheating.

We need to chat with Flaco Navarro.

He's the head of the 63rd Street Chacales.

You try anything, I swear to God, I will cut you both.

Understood.

A long time ago, I had a horrible date.

I had this horrible date once.

The eight-track was jammed.

That eight-track was

stuck in my car stereo.

I'm sorry, but I can't just stop caring.

Something came to mind, actually.

Place I think you might like.

A community, folks all living out their second chance.

Bernard Francis Randolf.

He woke up that morning with a song in his head.

An anonymous caller tipped us off that something was going on

at the Roach House again.

We showed up bracing for the worst.

Randy showed up bracing for the worst,

but with a song in his head.

'Cause Roach House or not,

that day was Randy's birthday.

Every year on that day,

since he was a kid,

his mom Maxine would tell him the story

-of when he was born. -Yeah!

Baby Randy arrived nine days early...

-Got some blood. -In an auto repair shop.

He was in such a hurry to get here,

his mom didn't even

have time to drive to the hospital.

And the minute he was born,

it was like a switch flipped on in that

greasy old garage.

His mom took one look at him, and she knew

this kid was meant to bring a great big light into the world.

This kid

was meant to bring the kind of light...

That never goes out.

Tell you what, Texas was a trip.

Ranch looked just the same.

Packed up everything you'd want. Ma's stuff, too.

Appreciate that, Mikey.

Couple boxes wouldn't fit in the truck, so I mailed 'em.

Once they get here, I'll drive 'em all out to you.

Well, it'll be really good to see you.

Got a good mattress out there?

-Pick you up a topper. -Nah, It's all good.

You know, I'm learning a lot about growing plants.

Might be getting a new horse that needs breaking. A mustang.

That's good, Mason.

That's real good.

Talk to you soon, then.

Yeah, you bet.

Victim was

25-year-old Marine Sergeant Henry Aldrin.

He was an equipment mechanic

-here on Pendleton. -Anonymous tipster

called us instead of the cops.

We're thinking he either knew the victim

or found the military ID in Aldrin's wallet at the scene.

Mary Jo, what did the tipster say?

Just that something bad was going on.

He gave me the address

to the Roach House and hung up.

I thought Randy would like

balloons this year. You think it's too much?

No way. Randy friggin' loves balloons.

Mary Jo, I shipped some stuff here from Texas.

What do you want me to do about it?

Call the post office, find out what's taking so long.

Come on, they're for my brother.

Dropped him off at that compound

all alone. I'm worried about him.

Okay, I'll see what I can do.

Hell you doing?

Looking for the office lighter for the birthday candles.

I ain't got

-the office lighter. -Gail said it was here.

You know how she is with her intuitive placement.

She said you think of lighters,

you think of cigarettes, you think of Franks.

I can see that.

Here, take mine.

I want it back, though.

Page me soon as you track down

-my boxes. -Where's the man of the hour?

-Notifying the victim's family. -That's poor form, Mike.

You don't send a kid on a death knock on his birthday.

He's got a way of making people feel better.

Softens the blow.

Plus, he don't mind.

That stuff don't get to him like it does the rest of us.

Well, that was awful.

Aldrin's parents took the news really hard.

Like, really hard.

They said Aldrin hurt his back on the job

and he had a prescription for painkillers

but he got addicted, and they were worried

he was moving up to something stronger, maybe heroin,

which could explain what he was doing at the Roach House.

Oh, my God.

I friggin' love balloons!

Yes!

Brought you a new batch of files from the vault, kid.

Computer crap's on your time, Rando, not mine.

Hey, Mike.

I'm gonna invite you to sit upright in your chair

and I want you to consider the enormity of the time and effort

that this young man put into this project.

Have some respect.

Don't worry, boss. Me and Martha

are already halfway done through all the case files

for the whole office.

We got a new secretary?

Nope. He named his computer Martha Stewart.

'Cause once I'm done inputting files in her,

she'll know everything about everything.

What's she gonna know about me?

Sergeant Aldrin. He is dead,

and none of y'all are telling me why.

Rando thinks he might've been doped up.

Who slit his throat?

What kind of whack job

slaps blood on the walls and poses the body

like it's tipping its hat to the devil?

I talked to Aldrin's parents. They didn't think

he was mixed up in anything

-cult-like. -I know this symbol.

When I did missionary work

in the Dominican Republic.

Santería.

It's not a cult, it's an Afro-Caribbean religion.

What does the symbol mean?

There's an old Santería shop

in, uh, San Diego. North Park. They'll be able to tell you.

Our forensics confirm the powder on the ground

is table salt.

The blood type

on the wall was a match to our victim's.

Salt is used in some ceremonies

for purification and protection.

Not like this.

Santería is about leading a good life,

helping people heal their body, their spirit.

Have you seen this before?

The bow and arrow.

It represents Ochosi, the hunter.

He's one of our Santos.

But whatever this ritual is,

it is a perversion of our ways.

A true santero would never take part in human sacrifice.

Show her the rest of the pictures. I'll be right back.

What did you say to her?

The hell, man?

Flaco wants to follow me, tell him he should at least

have the balls to sit in the car with you.

You said no to helping take down Luna.

Now Luna clipped two more.

Flaco wants me to remind you that the blood is on your hands.

Doesn't want to force you to help him, but...

he's watching.

Lala.

The hell was that?

-Get in the car. -Who was that?

Get in the car and drive, probie.

Lala, wait. That... that was that same guy

that dropped you off that time at the beach,

same Impala.

You can't just blast the music in the car and think that

-I'm gonna quit asking. -Of course I'm gonna

-blast Nirvana. Are you crazy? -Who was that guy? Why won't you

-tell me who he was? -Oh, would you stop yelling?

-People are gonna hear. -Answer the question

-and I'll stop asking it. -Stop yelling!

-Answer the quest... I'm not yelling. -Gibbs.

-Why did he peel off like that? -Gibbs?

-You looked threatened. Was he threatening you? -Gibbs. Leroy!

Y'all ought to cherish these moments.

One day we'll all be dead.

Hey. I...

I'm asking you to let this go.

-Okay? -Is it something off the books?

You know you can trust me.

You had my back. After Mexico.

You can trust me.

Whatever it is.

It's a guy I've been seeing.

We went out a few times.

Oh, can you believe that girl?

Who?

Gail. She thinks it's

intuitive to put the birthday card

in the ladies' room because it's

the one place Randy won't see it.

What does she think, we want a bunch of them coming in here,