After an aerial shot of a lushly-landscaped shore, we're back in the CSI annex. Speedle's bringing in the sweaty uniforms to Lab Tech Laura, who greets him by saying, "I heard it was the Wild West out there today." Speedle declines to acknowledge that, saying only, "See if you can get some DNA off of those." Laura opens the bag and remarks on the odor, clarifying for us, "It smells like I will. I'll start on collars and cuffs." What about armpits? Wouldn't that be a likely place too? Speedle signs the evidence release form. Laura -- deciding that Speedle's non-acknowledgement of her previous comment was really a cue to keep talking about it -- says, "So everyone's saying Hollis would have gotten it much worse if it hadn't been for you pulling him out of the truck." Without looking up, Speedle reminds her, "He died, Laura." She replies, "I know that. But his family can have an open casket, and that means more than you might think. You were brave." Speedle sets her straight: "I wasn't brave. I reacted...badly. I still have nightmares from what happened at Macho Grande." The conversation ends awkwardly.
Another conversation begins awkwardly out in the parking lot as Horatio walks toward the building and is intercepted by another bald police type checked out of Central Casting. Why are all middle-aged law enforcement types bald? Is it because only politicians are supposed to have good hair after age forty-five? Anyway, Horatio greets this hairline-challenged guy, "Look what the cat dragged in." The man replies by rolling his eyes and reminding Horatio, "SWAT lost a man today." Horatio implies that he has loftier priorities than this guy by replying, "Yes, and Officer Hollis left two small children behind." What, at the scene? I know, I know. I just have a thing against euphemisms. Hairline Harry is not falling for the moral one-upsmanship: "A bunch of real tragedies. SWAT guys cost more to train. We're talking half a million bucks here." Horatio's all, "So Internal Affairs does place a dollar value on employees' lives." Or maybe the rest of the people working in the Miami police department have a working grasp of budgetary concerns, Mister I-don't-care-about- this-million-dollar-trial. The IAB guy tells Horatio he's here to talk about dispo day, and while I realize they're bringing some sort of jargon here, I hear "dispo day" and think "Disco Duck," which can't be good in any way. Hairline Harry telegraphs where we'll be spending the remaining forty-seven minutes of this episode: "Speedle requested the assignment, right?" Horatio gets all pissy: "Yes, he did, and I approved his request, so if you'll excuse Me, I have an investigation to process." For the second time in the conversation, Horatio's attempt to gain the moral high ground is turned back as the IAB guy snarls, "So do I, starting with CSI." For the record, the IAB guy can be on C.S.I.: Miami -- Don and John too. Horatio demonstrates that he has a tin ear, financially speaking, as he snits, "Well, talk about a waste of the taxpayers' money, Jack." Jack looks like he's regretting taking the time and courtesy to give Horatio the heads-up, and he informs Horatio that he's going to be giving all the CSIs lie-detector tests. With as much menace as he can muster, Horatio blusters, "You poly them, you better poly Me first!" What a completely pointless thing to say. Does he expect Jack to buckle under the force of that threat or something? "Oh, God, no, don't make me give you a lie-detector test, please!" Whatever, Horatio. Jack reminds Horatio to pass on the no-nicotine, no-caffeine edict, as those substances only skew the tests, then wanders off, leaving me to wonder if the physiological results of caffeine or nicotine withdrawal affect polygraphs as well. As Jack walks off, Horatio asks snidely, "You miss being a real cop?" "Yes, because real cops are the ones that cover up bureaucracy-wide corruption and cronyism, like in San Francisco," Jack says. Oh, he does not. But it would be helpful if someone reminded Horatio that if we didn't have things like the Oakland Riders, and the Los Angeles Ramparts scandal, and the San Francisco fajita fuss, then there wouldn't be a need for IAB, would there? Horatio does his little get-in-the-last-word thing, and then the scene ends.
And now, the Fourth Estate checks in via voice-over to indicate that all is not well in Miami today. One woman announcer starts, "A veritable shootout in downtown Miami this morning..." "Veritable"? Try actual. The second voice, this one male, continues, "Old drug evidence was moved in a top-secret transport..." A third voice, female, adds, "Two officers killed..." and Voice #4, male, finishes, "An internal investigation is underway to determine how the information leaked." The screen shifts from the sunny Miami skyline to a rainy outside shot where Enrique Rayas is assailing Detective Baldy, "You're the investigator in the dispo case that resulted in two tragic deaths. You mind if I ask a few questions for our viewers?" As a matter of fact, Baldy does. When he goes inside, he tells Horatio, "Saw your friend out front. Guy thinks he's Tom Brokaw." It could be worse -- he could think he was Geraldo Rivera. Horatio cracks, "If he's Tom Brokaw, I'm Elliott Ness. So, did you talk to the owner of the incinerator?" Baldy did, and the man is genuinely mourning. Not for the loss of human life, mind you, but for the loss of his potential income. Baldy also talked to the dry cleaner; the uniforms were stolen during what was thought to be vandalism at the time, which was ten days ago. Horatio digests this information and concludes, "That's the same time we decided to dispo the dope." Baldy says with false enthusiasm, "Ooh, the media will be all over that!" Horatio philosophically says, "Even sharks gotta eat." Or maybe a free press has a mandate to hold publicly funded public service institutions accountable to the society they're allegedly sworn to protect and serve. Maybe.