Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

- [Park] You know what an engram is? - [Reece] No, I don't.
[water running]
And it shows the SEALs
you're still the tip of the spear.
I'm here at Incirlik Air Force Base
[Howard] Reece.
SEAL Team 7, regarding mission number 644: Odin's Sword.
that's not... that's not possible.
Still, I'm-I'm glad you reached out to me.
and operations in Syria are on hold.
Get my boys off this beach!
Reece, are you sure you're okay to go to these funerals?
- How you feeling on that leg? - Good, good.
[guns fire]
- in medical. He's got a headache. - A headache?
Get them out now!
and he was fine.
The Zirvede nightclub stamp on your wrist.
The scan gives us a detailed map of your brain.
No fucking way he would've shot himself.
all things considered.
[waves crashing in distance]
[Hartley] I know it's unfair what we ask of you,
No one's gonna even know we're there.
[Stubbs] Maybe this interview is too soon.
Donny?
[panting] I'm sorry, Commander.
Coming in! [shouting indistinctly]
Yeah, we can trust these tunnel maps, sir?
Crowley, get eyes on that trigger.
- I really want to show you. - Oh, okay.
Well, my men already flew home.
But, yes, my timeline is a little fuzzy.
[pin clinks]
My men are built to take a kick to the head.
[Katie] Can I get a whiskey? Neat.
I showed it to you.
No.
The coroner just took the body.
We'll start there.
I never said any of those things.
No.
Tracked down a copy of the police report.
No, sir.
[sniffs]
I can make some calls, see if there's anything worth seeing.
You're funny.
No, sir. That's impossible.
- Move, move, move! - Commander Reece!
Change our digital record.
Gosh, you are getting good, kid.
Look, Reece,
and hand this off as part of the turnover.
♪ ♪
In the event that shit goes south,
Your service member is waiting to speak with you.
[vehicle departing]
So a memory from a year ago
Memory loss?
Fucking A.
is about to begin.
We're going white light.
It's WARCOM.
- I promise. - I'm fine, honey.
Boozer, on me!
Ma'am, SEALs are deploying?
shortly before he set off the explosion.
and Quds Force money in his pocket.
[phone ringing]
- Fuck! Lecrone's hit. - Move, move, move.