04x21 - Brothers In Arms

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "NCIS". Aired: September 2003 to present.*
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The cases of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.
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04x21 - Brothers In Arms

Post by bunniefuu »

Are you alone?

You bring it?

You're doing the right thing.

I know I'm doing the right thing. I'm just...

I'm still not sure you're the one I should be doing it with.

You're not exactly a man with many options.

Come on.

Get down!

You hit?

NCIS Season 4 Episode 21. Brothers In Arms

What's wrong with this picture?

You mean aside from the Director being out at 4:00 a. m. and a dead homeless man in her car?

No, that about covers it.

Not quite.

His alley-mates don't think he's homeless. Said he showed up last night.

He looked dirty, but smelled like he had just taken a bath.

Said he didn't talk to anyone.

He talked to somebody.

It's a nice phone.

The Director's on another Op.

If she is, I'm not in on it.

Would you tell us if you were?

Name's Troy Webster. He had information I needed.

The Frog.

Getting La Grenouille on ARES is off-limits, but with what Webster had, I still could have nailed Grenouille to the wall.

And the reason I'm finding out about this right now... or you gonna quote Rule Number Four to me again?

Are you gonna quote Rule Number One back at me?

What were you doing out here alone?

I can take care of myself, Jethro.

Right.

Who was taking care of him?

Well, from this point forward, that would be me.

Well, it's not anything I said.

Any witnesses get an I.D. on the vehicle?

All I got is some kind of truck.

Plates were missing.

It was a dark Limited Edition, Ford Excursion. Tinted windows.

Off-road tires. Broken taillight.

And, uh... now missing a rear window.

You got off a few rounds.

I don't take kindly to being sh*t at.

Was he sh**ting you or him?

Director of NCIS is a high-value target.

Whereas this guy is..

His name is Troy Webster.

Troy Webster.

Never met a dollar he couldn't launder.

A certified CPA with offices in the Isle of Man, Dubai and the Caymans.

His number one client...

The Frog.

La Grenouille.

Your favorite international arms dealer and mine.

Wasn't Webster's favorite.

At least not anymore.

They had a falling out?

Webster woke up one day, and realized he had sold his soul to the devil.

Too bad the devil doesn't give refunds.

Webster knew the risks.

What was the reward?

He was bringing me a file on La Grenouille's entire operation, down to the last dock invoice, past and future.

Next arms shipment he made, we could have nailed him.

France would have had no choice but to extradite him to the U.S.

And he'd never know how we got to him.

The only thing we found on Webster was his cell.

No file.

The cell's flash drive was empty, but that doesn't mean there couldn't be a hidden directory.

McGee, get the drive down to Abby...

Down to Abby and see if she can pull anything off of it.

DiNozzo, Ziva, Follow up every lead...

Follow up every lead... you have on the sh**t, and report directly to me.

I sure would like to be a fly on the wall up there.

Never mind.

I suppose I should say thank you.

For ?

For not calling me out when you had a right to.

I apologize. It's your team. I was out of order.

Whose team?

Your team.

Want me to get the shades?

I'm through sitting in the dark looking at photos.

Yeah. I noticed.

You think I'm being reckless.

What do you think?

I think I'm taking the same chances that you did when you were after Ari.

I wasn't the Director of NCIS.

But I am.

It gives me prerogatives.

Troy Webster initiated contact with me three months ago.

Then he got cold feet.

Until last night.

He called after midnight.

Said he had information on an arms shipment to an American supplier happening soon.

It was an opportunity I could not pass up.

Which Webster would have known.

It wasn't a trap.

You sure?

You're still assuming Webster was the target.

He could have been the bait.

Do you get it now?

The real question is, why didn't you get it sooner?

You think my personal feelings about La Grenouille are clouding my judgment?

You don't know what my personal feelings are.

Right.

I have no need to know.

How far are you willing to go to get this guy, Jen?

As far as you went to get Ari, Jethro.

It was 1917 before Mata Hari was finally arrested, although the French had no concrete proof that she was spying for the Germans.

Yeah, but who needs proof when accusation will suffice?

Strange to say, it was the Germans who deliberately leaked that she was working for them, thus reinforcing the spy world's oldest maxim...

Don't be a spy?

Trust no one.

You would have made a lousy agent provocateur, Jethro.

Well, thank you, Duck. I'll take that as a compliment.

I'm just taking my own advice, trying to confirm Abby's fingerprint I.D. somehow.

You got a reason to think they won't match?

Well, you never know in this game.

Duck, I also don't know what I'm doing here.

Oh. Oh, yes. Well, I do have some information that you may find useful as well as inexplicable.

Take a look at this.

One b*llet perfectly bisected the inferior vena cava.

Another, the superior vena cava. Also a perfect bisection.

Two in the chest.

And one in the head.

Almost dead center.

Standard execution-style, but with astounding accuracy.

Troy Webster was the target.

Yeah.

If the sh**t had wanted the Director dead, he would not have missed.

As for Troy Webster, the sh**t may have wasted his b*ll*ts.

The patient suffered from an elevated protein level in his cerebral spinal fluid.

I didn't think much of it at the time until I opened up his cranium.

And I found this.

It's almost certainly malignant.

Brain tumor.

And inoperable.

He would have been dead in six weeks.

That might explain why he had a change of heart.

If he knew about it.

I also took the precaution of acquiring his medical records.

Given the size of this tumor, I'd think he would have known something was amiss.

He would have said something to his doctor, but there's no mention of any abnormality, far less cancer.

Any chance they could have missed it?

No. I am at a loss to explain it. Hence the word "inexplicable".

Hello, hello. What is this?

The backup generators is kicking in.

Sorry!

That was me.


I think it's out.

Have you ever seen anything like this?

What's going on?

You two okay?

Well, we're fine.

Bertha...

She's toast.

What happened?

Well, we were trying to access Webster's smartphone.

Turned out there was some sort of hidden partition.

We must have triggered some sort of fail-safe.

Which uploaded a virus on Abby's system.

A virus did this?

No. But it tricked our surge protector into thinking that there was a lightning strike that k*lled the power.

When the backups kicked in, it overloaded our distribution node.

Were you able to pull anything off the phone before it self-destructed?

No. Surge took care of that.

Pretty Mission: Impossible, huh?

Can you retrieve any data?

There's no data left to retrieve.

Anything that Webster would have had on La Grenouille, it's gone.

Aw, somebody need...

This was careless!

Jen.

How many more lives are going to be ruined before we bring that monster in?

How many have been ruined so far?

It's not over. We still have Troy Webster.

Not sure how much talking he's going to do.

He doesn't need to.

Webster was going to bring us La Grenouille for arms dealing.

Now he's going to bring him to us for m*rder.

This ever happened before?

No.

What'd you say to them?

I told them to send someone over.

You want to see the CIA, you always do it on their turf and their terms.

Maybe they've finally figured it out that we're all on the same team.

It doesn't mean they're going to play ball.

After the way we salvaged ARES for them, they owe us.

Yes, Cynthia?

You appointment's arrived, Director.

Send them in.

Agent Fornell?

Jenny. Jethro.

Get lost on your way to work, Tobias?

We were expecting someone from the CIA, not FBI.

As you know, I'm on attachment to Homeland Security.

That doesn't make you CIA.

And yet here I am, just the same.

Langley hates the FBI.

Yeah, but not so much as they hate you right now.

You really pissed them off over something.

And so you volunteered to smooth things out.

Not exactly "volunteered".

I just drew the short straw.

So you guys want to tell me what this is all about?

'Cause they didn't tell me squat.

I need face time with one of their undercover assets.

Name?

Trent Kort. Alias.

They're gonna want to know why.

On going NCIS investigation.

That's it?

One of my informants was k*lled.

I believe Kort has information to help me find the k*ller.

That sounds reasonable. On the other hand, this is the CIA, so they're probably going to tell me to tell you to go to hell.

Remind them they owe us.

And if you want to know why, ask them.

And who said the old days were dead.

Not them.

Well, I guess hell hasn't frozen over after all.

Thank God you're here.

I told you to come alone.

Look, I'm through keeping secrets on this one, Abs.

If it's about the case...

We are all ears.

Is that like being a fly on the wall?

Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Per strict instructions from Director Shepard, I'm going over all the crime scene evidence with a fine-tooth comb.

Anything good?

Tire marks confirm the make and model of the drive-by vehicle.

Which we already know from the Director.

I'm just getting warmed up here.

The striations on the slugs from the Director's car match the slugs from Troy Webster.

I didn't find any of the Director's slugs.

That's 'cause she didn't miss.

I did find something interesting on the window she shattered.

Blood.

Even though blood spatter can travel for several meters, the SUV was too far away for this to be Troy Webster's.

She hit one of La Grenouille's men.

Through a tinted window. In a car going 40 miles an hour.

Rock on, Jenny.

But was it the sh**t or the driver?

Enough to pull DNA?

I'm running it now.

Let us know.

Actually, it's what I found inside the Director's car that I'm not really sure what to do with.

What'd you find?

They were in her glove compartment.

What was that doing in her glove compartment?

I don't know. But I'm sure the Director doesn't want her... personal business on an inventory log for the entire federal government to read.

Not this business.

And I can't take it off the log. That would be a crime.

Maybe you should ask the Director what to do.

I am not having that conversation.

But you could.

Me?

Yes, you are the senior field agent.

And you never hesitate to remind us.

As your senior field agent, I say we draw straws.

Here, hold that... thought for a second.

Hey, what are you wearing?

Scrubs.

Scrubs can be sexy.

You've got sex on the brain, you know that?

Well, why fight a billion years of evolutionary drive?

I don't know, you're the one who made me wait, remember?

Well, the good news is, those dark days are long behind us.

I've got some good news myself. My mother is in town.

And she wants to meet you.

Apparently you and I have very different definitions of the word "good".

I would think you'd be the kind of guy that's had a lot of practice meeting parents.

Actually, no.

Right. Never made it that far.

There's a first time for everything.

Hey, hey, you...

What was that?

Uh, kind of hard to explain.

Maybe explain it to my mother and me over dinner.

Oh, Jeanne, I'm sorry I'm, I'm...

I'm going to have to work late tonight.

What kind of a lame excuse is that?

Well, it is lame, but it's not an excuse. I'll see what I can do.

I promise I'll make it worth your while.

Bribery will get you everywhere.

Bye.

Bye.

Director.

Schedule a briefing in an hour and get me Agent DiNozzo.

Yes, ma'am.

You got him.

I know Gibbs teaches you to anticipate, but I didn't even know I need you until a second ago.

You know, when you're good, you're good.

What's on your mind?

You first.

The GPS marker you tagged with Regine Smidt's luggage with has gone dark.

Maybe it's out of batteries.

Well, that means she found it.

How? Little bugger's supposed to be undetectable.

I'm more concerned with when.

She told La Grenouille.

And if she managed to ascertain the time her luggage was tagged...

He might be able to figure out who tagged it.

Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse.

Fornell.

Forward that file to my office, please.

Yes.

Fornell?

He's been assigned as our liaison with CIA.

They chose him because they thought it'd make you easier to handle?

Actually, he said the agents drew straws for the duty.

Apparently, my reputation precedes me.

It's hard to imagine grown adults drawing straws just to deal with little old me.

What was it you wanted to ask me again?

Come to Mama.

Beautiful.

Hi.

Hi.

It's kind of a tradition when I get new equipment.

So I guess you're here for the results of the blood I found?

I heard you got a hit on the DNA.

Yes, and no.

Let's start with the yes part, Abs.

I'm down here by myself all day long, and I finally have some company.

So, don't make me rush this.

I isolated the DNA from the blood on the SUV's glass fragments.

The blood spatter indicated that it came from the driver.

So I ran the DNA through every database I could think of, and I got nothing.

So, ask me why I'm smiling.

You're always smiling, Abby.

Well, that's 'cause I'm a happy person, Gibbs.

And I was especially happy when I found out that our driver was a mutant.

I mean, we all have mutations in our DNA technically...

Abby.

The owner had a genetic defect at position 370 on his glucosidase beta acid gene.

It's called Gaucher's Disease.

Rare?

It's rare enough.

It's treated with an enzyme-replacement drug called Ceredase.

There's only three pharmacies within a hundred-mile radius that carry it, and there's only one patient taking it.

You got an address?

Do you even have to ask?

Thank you.

Nice place.

Apartment 212.

Warrant.

Right here.

Federal agents!

Boss, Agent Lee wanted me to remind you we need to wait at least 15 seconds...

Clear!

Well, this guy was either practicing for his plastic surgery finals...

Or he was injured in a drive-by.

Not injured.

Dead.

Come in.

Ducky.

I was just reading your autopsy report.

Lucky we don't have to worry about finding this one's k*ller since it was me.

Your b*llet tore through his brachial and carotid arteries and lodged against his clavicle.

Someone tried to stitch up his wounds, but without proper medical knowledge.

I had La Grenouille by the throat.

Then he had my informant k*lled.

Fine. I'll make a m*rder case.

And then I k*ll the star witness who could tie the m*rder back to La Grenouille.

Perfect.

There's always the sh**t.

If we can find him.

Though I doubt he would be able to give you what you want.

Is there something I can do for you, Dr. Mallard?

Yeah, I came to discuss my preliminary findings.

Isn't that what I just read?

No, no, no. Not that. My psychological profile of La Grenouille.

It's not complete, but under the circumstances, I thought it prudent to avail you of what I've gathered so far.

Avail me.

Well, La Grenouille is not your ordinary arms dealer.

He's educated, refined, has a keen appreciation of opera.

And let's not forget cognac.

Oh, I haven't. I will forever remember his gift to me.

Do you know that it was a unique and rare bottle of Napoleon br...

Ducky, your point?

He's not the type to settle disputes with v*olence.

He's an arms dealer.

Who fancies himself a businessman.

Now, he may be a merchant of death, but he's... he's no more likely to solve a problem with v*olence than your typical tobacco company CEO.

And we both know how many people those products k*ll.

So La Grenouille was going to let Troy Webster turn state's evidence against him?

I'm not suggesting he wouldn't have dealt with those problems, but a man whose favorite opera is La Forza del Destino is sophisticated.

And he's far more likely to use that sophistication as his w*apon.

Violent m*rder just... is not his style.

You liked him, didn't you?

Excuse me?

La Grenouille.

You found him charming?

Well, I don't see how that's relevant.

Well, I admit, for a mass m*rder*r, he may have a certain... gracious charm.

Perhaps it's clouding your judgment.

Perhaps it's not my judgment that's being clouded.

You don't know him like I do.

And exactly how is that, Director?

Good night, Doctor.

The dead driver appears to be a dead end.

Which makes the sh**t our last link La Grenouille.

Better hope he's not dead, too.

I'll start running down his known associates.

Jethro.

Hey, Duck.

You and the Director have a nice chat?

Well, I wouldn't call it "nice".

Illuminating, perhaps.

For who?

Well, not for her.

As you expected, she didn't... appreciate my thoughts on La Grenouille.

She still thinks of him as a prime suspect.

So do I.

Yes, but you listen to my perspective, and I have no doubt that your mind would change if the facts were to change.

And the Director's won't?

It does not seem likely.

But why?

Well, you don't need a degree in psychology to see that there's a history between those two.

Something that is consuming her.

Her every... action, every thought.

How far?

Will she go?

Well, as far as any obsessed person.

As far as it takes.

Jeanne, what is taking you so long? Your mother could be here any second.

Relax, Tony. I'm 20 feet away.

Yeah, well, what am I supposed to do if she comes in here while you're gone?

Uh, say hello and introduce yourself.

Just like that?

Just like that.

What woman can resist your usual charming self?

Thanks.

Hello. Hi.

Show time.

Hello, Dr. Berkley.

I'm, I'm Tony.

I know who you are.

My daughter told me you'd be the one in the overpriced shoes.

Zegna Oxfords?

Good eyes.

What else did she tell you about me?

Everything.

I'm not quite sure what worries me the most.

Hi, baby. Hi, Mom.

I see you two have met.

Thank you.

Thank you.

You got to be kidding.

Old habit.

So, you're the overzealous Fed who nearly mucked up 18 months of undercover work.

I prefer to think of it as doing my job.
Gibbs.

I'm not my Director's keeper.

I don't have a lot of time.

Grenouille thinks I'm in DC getting dirt on a troublesome customs inspector.

Well?

Your boss k*lled my informant two days ago.

Informant got a name?

Troy Webster.

I need your help to take La Grenouille down for it.

You sure it was my boss?

You have any information to the contrary?

No, but I've been working with Grenouille a long time.

I've never known him to order a hit.

And if he did, you'd know?

Not necessarily.

Grenouille keeps information as compartmentalized as possible, where everything is...

Need to know.

Yeah. And accounting is not my department.

Still, I doubt Grenouille had anything to do with the m*rder.

It's just not his style.

This isn't a fashion contest.

I'm not asking for your opinion.

I'm asking who La Grenouille would have gotten for the hit.

Andre Jones.

He's Grenouille's American small arms distributor.

The kind of guy that's not afraid to get his hands dirty.

If Grenouille were to contract a k*ll in the States, Jones would be the only man he'd trust.

So, I told the rep from the HMO that if he didn't authorize the transplant, that I'd give his number to the family, and he could take it up with them.

My mother is used to getting what she wants.

I don't doubt that for a second.

I didn't become a doctor to do paperwork. I became a doctor to be a doctor.

As it is, the delay caused a rupture in the bile duct.

Which increases post-op susceptibility to intestinal parasites.

Very good, honey.

Speaking of intestinal parasites, how's your father?

Mom, be good.

I think I earned that segue.

I saw him last month... he's fine.

Good for him. So... how long have you been sleeping with my daughter?

Mother.

We're all adults here. Two of us are even doctors.

Well, we've been sleeping together for a few months, and before you ask, yes, we are using protection.

How'd you know I was gonna ask that?

Because... you said that Jeanne told you everything about me.

And so... you know that I'm...

A player?

Actually, I was gonna say "new at commitment".

But as her mother, naturally you're concerned that your daughter's being taken advantage of.

Oh, I know you're not taking advantage of her.

And how do you know that?

The way you look at her.

Love doesn't show up on an X ray, but I do recognize it when I see it.

And still you worry about me.

A leopard doesn't change its spots overnight And I can see the doubt in your eyes. Even you're wondering how long this is gonna last.

Ok, I think it's time for another segue.

I made the same mistake with Jeanne's father.

Mom... Tony is not Dad.

And I don't want to see her hurt the way that I was.

'Kay?

Could've used one of these last night.

Dinner went well?

Barely got out of there alive.

Hopefully, we all do. This Jones guy's got a pretty serious record.

Besides being Grenouille's American distributor, we've got suspected m*rder, aggravated as*ault...

Don't forget as*ault with a deadly w*apon, arson and kidnapping.

He's not going down without a fight.

He did not look so tough to me.

Suspect is on-site, alone.

Armed?

There was. I took care of it.

You two take the back. McGee, you're with me.

Just make sure Jones can still talk after he's taken care of.

To get extradition, we need an actual confession that La Grenouille ordered the hit.

Copy that.

Not so tough.

The bigger they are, the louder they fall, McGee.

The harder, Ziva.

Get ready to move.

Move. Now.

Freeze.

Federal agents.

La Grenouille told you where to find me?

I said freeze.


You try to do a guy a favor, and this is how he repays you.

Get down on the ground.

Stop!

Hold your fire.

Hold it!

Don't do it!

I need him alive.

Tango Eight... sitrep!

I repeat, I need your sitrep, Tango Eight.

We're fine, Director.

Uh, suspect isn't.

Staring's not gonna change anything.

Trust me.

As far as I'm concerned, Andre Jones got exactly what he deserved.

This isn't about Jones.

You're fishing.

It's not like you, Jethro.

You and me are gonna have a little talk.

Doesn't make sense.

Why does Jones think that La Grenouille sold him out?

Jones was the last link to The Frog.

With him out of the way, we'd never make a m*rder charge against La Grenouille stick.

He tricked us into doing his dirty work.

Ducky says he uses his sophistication as a w*apon.

Even I was unaware of just how sharp that w*apon is.

I just got off the phone with Troy Webster's physician.

Did you let him know he missed Webster's cancer?

I did. And I got two distinct impressions.

One, he was scared. And two, he was well aware of that tumor.

I mean, how could he have missed it?

Yeah, the good doctor was bribed to keep it a secret. Or threatened.

La Grenouille worried his employee health premiums were going to go up?

Being diagnosed with a terminal illness, Tony, tends to make one eager to atone for one's sins.

And Grenouille didn't want Webster atoning for his.

Webster still tried, so he must have known he was dying.

With that tumor I found?

No, the neurological deficits would have been pronounced.

He must have suspected the end was near... regardless of what any doctor told him.

Normally, when someone says that they need to have a little talk, they actually talk.

Director... of NCIS.

Yes.

That's a job I wouldn't want.

Don't worry, no one's offering.

You know why?

You mean besides your impatience, total lack of respect for authority and the fact that you still haven't learned to play nice with others?

Yeah. Yeah, besides all that?

I already told you, I am not allowing my personal feelings to interfere with my job.

Tell me again.

Is there something wrong with wanting to put an arms dealer out of business?

No.

Is that what you're really after?

What else would I be after?

I don't know, but at the rate you're going, the name "Director" is not gonna be on that door much longer.

It's good to know you're watching my back, Jethro.

Yeah. Gibbs.

Be right down.

Well, you just may get a chance to put that arms dealer out of business yet.

You can run, La Grenouille...

...but you can't hide.

Or maybe you can.

What do you got, Abs?

Oh, your usual incriminating evidence, all circumstantial, but beggars can't be choosers.

I'll take what I can get at this point.

McGee asked me to parse Andre Jones's old phone and bank records, and when I did, I saw a pattern.

An encrypted satellite phone call comes in, and then a large payment to an offshore account goes out.

Jones is paying for a shipment.

And then, like Swiss clockwork, 48 hours later, his GPS signal goes off the grid.

Picking up the shipment.

He doesn't want to be followed.

I haven't been able to trace the satellite call yet, but I did recognize the encryption algorithm.

The Frog.

It's the same as the one La Grenouille's people used to call Charles Harrow.

That's a good job, Abby.

I have a grand finale.

Jones made his last phone call exactly one day ago.

Which means a shipment is coming in less than 24 hours.

Ten bucks says that that is what Troy Webster was planning on telling us this entire time.

An arms shipment.

What happened to your m*rder case?

Our key witness didn't survive his deposition.

Wouldn't have done you any good if he did.

After our conversation, I made some interdepartmental inquiries.

Grenouille was not happy to hear about Webster's m*rder.

You're saying he didn't authorize it?

I'm saying, Grenouille specifically spread the word to not touch Webster.

She's pretty fired up.

You know what her beef is?

No.

Would you tell me if you did?

Jones disobeyed La Grenouille.

Didn't care about the orders to leave Webster alone.

He knew Webster could hurt him as bad as he could hurt La Grenouille.

That's why Jones thought La Grenouille had sold him out.

As punishment for k*lling Webster.

Grenouille must have had his own plans for Webster.

Sap's probably better off dead.

One thing Grenouille is good at, it's ruining people's lives.

Okay, tell me this.

Is she hot after all arms dealers, or is there something about this one in particular?

You're CIA for now, Tobias. You tell me.

Something about this one.

And you don't know what it is either.

As for your arms shipment, as far as I know, Grenouille has no upcoming deliveries.

As far as you know.

Like I said, not my department.

However, every arms shipment requires an end-use certificate.

It's a guarantee from the buyer that the arms won't be resold illegally.

That's why we've had so much trouble getting to La Grenouille.

His buyers always manage to get one.

All it takes is a third-world general on the payroll or an exceptionally good forger.

Which one did Andre Jones have?

Guy looks like an English teacher.

Actually, an art teacher.

You know why you're here.

No.

It wasn't a question.

Do you know how long you're going to prison?

That was a question.

Get the feeling these guys have done this before?

Agent Gibbs

What's the going rate for forging an EUC certificate for arms smuggling?

20 years.

I'm an art teacher.

Good.

Then you can draw us a picture...

Walked right into that one.

...of the EUC document you forged for Andre Jones's g*ns.

And please make sure that I can read the time and location of shipment.

It's going down either way.

If you help us, I can put in a good word with the judge.

And if you don't, then...

I hear Gitmo is lovely this time of year.

Definitely done this before.

Though you will be wearing a hood.

And that's certainly going to k*ll your view.

What kind of good word could you put in with the judge?

Well, it depends how good your drawing is.

Yeah, okay. I forged the EUC for Jones, but I don't have a location or a date.

No, not good enough.

No, he makes me leave it blank.

I swear.

It's added by his shell company.

Name?

Abbot Imports.

Yeah, you got an address?

Still working on it.

What's the problem?

Problem is, it doesn't exist.

There's no federal tax I.D.

Mail goes to a P.O. box.

The number's a payphone.

Who owns the box?

Bills are paid by Andre Jones.

I'm really starting to wish we didn't k*ll him.

McGee, did you try Customs?

Trying now.

There has to be some record of his imports, even if it is through a shell company.

Oh, there is.

Next shipment is scheduled to arrive today.

Norfolk Port Authority.

Got the container number.

Ever seen anyone walk that quickly in heels?

Only at the end of a really hairy date.

Import company missed the pickup.

No one claims the container within the next 12 hours, orders are "return it to sender".

Lucks yours guys called when you did.

Luck had very little to do with it.

I really hope the Director relaxes a bit after this.

Don't get your hopes up, McGee.

Why?

Once we get the weapons and trace them back to La Grenouille, he'll go underground.

Interpol will issue a red notice.

But it'll still be up to us to find him.

So, in other words...

There.

Cancel your dinner plans, Probie.

Open it.

Yes, ma'am.

I got you.

Squirt g*ns.

"Dear Webster, best wishes on your new career.

La Grenouille".

We have nothing.

We never did.

He's good.

He's really good.

He'd better be.
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