FBI. David has found four Chinese freighters that were supposed to pull out. He identifies one that set sail early, and throws up some "NSA satellite images" (SO SO WRONG! THE NSA DOES NOT SPY WITHIN THE BORDERS OF THE U.S.! God, just say the "military" because it would actually be more accurate. The NSA is about "Information Assurance," which means keeping information secure, and Signals Intelligence, the stuff that goes over a wire or through the air, meaning telecommunications. Any Imagery Intelligence [IMINT] is what the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency controls and disseminates. NSA is ONE branch of about sixteen member agencies of the intelligence community! It's not the ONLY FRICKIN' INTELLIGENCE AGENCY!) showing that the boat in question is twelve miles out. Using his NON-NSA images, David shows a launch taking off from the dock, but Don wants a closer look at an SUV parked on the dock. He identifies a "whip antenna." "One of ours?" David muses, and keystrokes a few more times to expose infrared embedded identification "KL6HX9" on the roof of the SUV. Don tells him to run it, and David makes a call.
In the FBI situation/exposition/explanation room, we're looking at a big photo of Val Kilmer in a suit, and Don explains the car was signed out to him, Mason Lancer. He's a special assistant to the Deputy Attorney General. Why was he dumb enough to drive such an easily identifiable car to the Chinese loading docks? He's sort of a Real Evil Dumb-Ass. "That's exactly the kind of position that would have access to classified information, but he'd still need someone else to go out and steal what he can't reach," Megan extrapolates. Don suggests Carter. "Or Colby Granger," David says angrily. We get a zoom-in satellite image of C&C Convict Factory on the back of the launch. David gives an update on the boat's location -- it's still within the contiguous zone. Megan says that they still need a search warrant from the state department to board. David tells Charlie that sort of warrant can take between three hours and two days, with no guarantee that they're going to say yes. Megan reminds us that once they pass the twenty-four-nautical-mile mark, there's no way they'll get on the boat at all. Don puts it to them thusly: "It all comes down to this -- do we, in fact, think that Colby is a traitor? That's all it's about -- do we? And if we do, we let the Coast Guard watch and we wait for a warrant." Megan gives the other side: "And if he's not, he could be dead by then." Don sucks at his teeth: "Yeah." Charlie gets up uncomfortably and unfolds a large sheaf of papers. It's his trust metric for Colby. He explains, "It's a man's life put down on a few pages of expressions, distilled down to an index of trustworthiness, which is a single number that incorporates all facets of his behavior. Like the risks he's taken or the orders he's obeyed or disobeyed. The confidences he's shared." "Yeah," Don asks, "so what does it tell us?" "Nothing," Charlie says ruefully. "Nothing we don't already know in our hearts." Great, so we just lost even more time with that? If Colby's dead, it's your fault, Charlie. Megan smiles at Charlie and says she's in. David says he doesn't know what to believe, but he'd like to find out. "All right, we roll in ten," Don decides.