NCIS: Los Angeles

- Who burned you? - Eugene Keelson.

Guy's got information about G's past. That even NCIS doesn't know about.

If you kill me, you'll never know the truth: who you really are.

I just found a local address on Keelson. This place

is filled with some heavy-duty data servers, and I think we've got the key.

Clear.

Clear.

- Is this place what I think it is? - Everybody's dirty little secrets.

Including Taylor, A... whoever he is.

Document boxes.

Alphabetical by surname and initial.

Must be hundreds of them.

Lots of big names.

I'm gonna need the code number or an angle grinder.

Damn.

What?

You think someone who makes a fortune buying and selling information's

- gonna make it that easy? - We're gonna need Eric.

See if they've got one on you...

or Hetty.

Nothing on me. Two boxes on Hetty.

Guys...

You're gonna want to see this.

"File burn". It must be automatically erasing the hard drives.

It's not gonna affect the hard copy files.

Unless...

We gotta get out of here now!

- Move! - That kinda burn.

I got it.

G, come on!

.: Team UnderCovers :.

NCIS Los Angeles 1x24 - Callen, G. -

After you powered up,

what did you press?

Nothing. I didn't even touch the keyboard.

Maybe we triggered motion detectors.

I didn't see them, and I was looking.

Okay... a timer.

If Keelson's not back by a certain time...

And if he's stuck in traffic?

Cell phone. Dials up,

punches in the code, deactivates...

I didn't do anything.

If you could turn it off with a cell phone, you could turn it on.

Maybe Keelson isn't the lone wolf we thought he was.

Eric's gonna see what he can dig up on Keelson's warehouse.

Phone records, utilities, all the usuals.

Try to turn up another name.

We good?

Yeah, sorry.

This is the file he was working on.

Surveillance.

They're arguing.

Probably married.

Taylor.

Wonder what his dirty little secret is.

Great.

450 A. Taylors in Los Angeles alone.

Gonna need a first name to...

This is where he got the addresses.

What addresses?

Every foster home I ever lived in.

Keelson gave me a printout, but...

this is where he got 'em.

They're all handwritten.

What's it doing in this file box?

Well, he left in a hurry. He could've put them in there by mistake.

Keelson didn't make mistakes.

There's five more addresses here in the back. I don't know any of 'em.

Maybe this is our connection with Taylor.

Any of those five new addresses located in a 6000 block?

We find a Bart's Mart located

on a 6000 block, at least we got a place to start looking.

Bart's Mart. 67 stores in greater Los Angeles,

but only one on a 6000 block.

6464 Woodman Avenue, Van Nuys.

That's the apartment block from the photo.

List of tenants, Eric.

Looking for Taylor, initial "A".

Close.

Data search on Steven John Taylor, same address.

Steven John Taylor, aged 45.

No criminal record. Divorced.

Ex-wife's name's Amy.

A. Taylor.

He's a she.

Age 42. No children. No current address listed.

Still using her married name. That's unusual.

What's her maiden name?

I have to go right back to the marriage certificate.

And her maiden name is...

Callen.

Mr. Hanna, Ms. Blye, Taylor's apartment.

- Mr. Callen, my office. - Hetty...

Go.

I much prefer

a good HB

to a Bic.

Press firmly enough,

and people don't have to read between the lines to get the message.

The answer is no.

You don't even know what the question is.

It's no to all of them.

Is there any mention of this in your classified file? No.

Was I aware you had a relative? No.

Am I surprised? No. Should you stay on this case?

Definitely no.

Is there any possibility that this is a coincidence?

Keelson didn't think so.

- He had my details in her file. - But he could be wrong.

Could be.

I'm sorry, Mr. Callen. You know the rules.

It would seem that while Keelson is dead,

there is still the possibility that your true identity

may have been compromised,

along with the integrity of this unit.

This is the second time you've taken me off the Keelson case.

Let's make it the last.

Should I read something between the lines?

Bugger.

Hetty's gonna tell you that I'm off the case.

She is?

Before she does, what have we got?

The warehouse is owned by some two-dollar corporation

registered in Nevada. I'm still checking names and the paperwork,

but they're all paralegals 3 times removed from Keelson.

She could be on her way up.

She will try calling again first. What else?

I checked phone companies.

Phone lines in and out of the warehouse.

And I found a dedicated data line, like a fax line. But here's the thing...

What is the thing?

It's never had a call.

Ever! The only charge on the phone bill

is for the line rental. No calls in, no calls out.

Except for one this morning.

So someone dialed in to trigger the explosives.

Yeah, ten-second call.

If it were me, I'd want to be close by, make sure it all works.

Time-stamped video puts him on the scene

30 seconds before the blast with a clear view of the warehouse.

That's how I narrowed down the search.

So he makes the call, and you see a change

in the light on the left of the frame as the building goes up.

He stayed another 30 seconds, and left.

Not your typical reaction of someone witnessing a building exploding.

A cell phone?

Still trying to get it. But I did get a license plate.

That's the number, the address, the guy, Carl Browning.

Rap sheet: grand theft auto, burglary, assault and fraud.

This is Eric.

What in the world's taking you so long to answer the phone?!

Taylor's got some noisy neighbors.

The neighbors have got a noisy Taylor.

- Is that...? - Yeah.

It's Mighty Mouse.

Huh, I was thinking Tom and Jerry.

No, no, it's the mouse.

Taylor hasn't got kids.

So what?

Cartoons?

Not cartoons.

The mouse.

- Clear! - Clear.

Bedroom and bathroom look a lot like this.

The whole place is trashed. He turned the TV up to mask the sound.

Searching for something.

Guessing they didn't find it.

Callen's got the information and is on his way to Browning's house.

What's the address?

Put your hands where I can see 'em.

Federal agent.

- You alone? - No.

As a matter of fact, he's not,

Special Agent G. Callen.

Kort.

You know, Callen, you're not missing anything.

No one ever calls me by my first name.

It's 'cause no one likes you.

CIA do this?

We were late to the party, like you.

Place was already trashed, television blaring.

And like you, we wanted to have a chat with Mr. Browning.

Unfortunately for both of us,

Mr. Browning's done chatting.

Browning worked for Keelson.

Keelson's dead.

I got the memo. Tell me, did he have a file on you?

But he did have one on you.

Ashes in the wind.

Scuttlebutt said you triggered the explosion.

Browning phoned it in.

That's how you found him. Phone logs.

How'd you find him?

Your backup just arrived.

A little late to be of much use, I would have thought.

I mean, if we weren't on the same side...

Trent Kort. He's with the Agency.

We used to work together, Callen and I.

Kort was explaining how they knew about Browning.