When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall and down... will come baby Cradle and all.
That's kind of a dark song.
Are you happy?
You asked me to get you some ice cream.
Did I tell you to blend it?
I didn't remember the blender being that loud before.
And this morning, you didn't remember that the dryer beeps on wrinkle guard.
It was a beep... a single beep!
How can something with such little ears have such bionic hearing?
Okay.
Help me... please... help me.
Must you do that now, Tony?
It's spring. I'm spring-cleaning, so... yes.
Spring-cleaning?
You don't have spring-cleaning in Israel?
We do not have spring.
Israel is a desert.
I've been looking for this.
I remember those days, when I was carefree and full of joy.
I envy you, Tony.
Why are you dressed for a funeral?
Everything okay?
No.
Frank is sick.
Who is Frank?
My mandibular second molar.
It's been k*lling me for a week. I'm finally going to the dentist.
You name your teeth?
You don't?
No.
See, that's the problem.
They're just teeth to you.
But evolutionarily speaking, your survival is directly proportionate to their health.
A cavity was a death sentence on the Savannah.
Abby, everyone gets cavities.
No.
No Sciuto has had a cavity since 1922.
Good genes.
Genes?
I brush, and I floss, and I tongue-scrape more than most people would consider sane.
I have earned my perfect record.
No cavities, no surrender.
I don't deserve this.
I'll be back before lunch.
Good luck.
Don't get too comfortable.
Dead body.
Come on... you all know the drill.
He looks cold.
That's the least of his problems, McGee.
Hey, boss. Parents didn't have much to add.
Baby's room was empty, except for the baby.
They kept hearing the voice through the baby monitor.
Cops did a search of the area.
All they found was him.
They identified the body as Marine Private First Class...
Marco Riggs.
And I am identifying some pretty gnarly toes. This guy needed a pedicure.
Bothers you so much, DiNozzo, go find his shoes.
Boss, I'm going to go find his shoes.
This would explain the voice the parents heard.
Our dead guy had a m*llitary-issue cell scanner.
Not exactly standard-issue for privates.
That's probably why he was misusing it.
Take a look at the display, boss.
911?
Looks like Riggs was trying to use the cell scanner as a cell phone.
Ended up broadcasting in a narrowband frequency.
Got picked up by the baby monitor.
I don't know about the feet, though.
That's because you don't know your history, McGee.
Historically, going about unshod was considered by some to be an act of pious devotion, while others...
Believed that direct contact with Mother Earth provided spiritual benefits.
However, in Roman and medieval times, going barefoot symbolized poverty, since leather and boots were too expensive for the average...
Really?
I wrote a paper on...
Never mind.
Cyanosis indicates lack of oxygen.
No signs of strangulation or ligature marks.
Did you write a paper on those, too?
Time of death... two hours ago.
That a problem?
Mr. Palmer, help me with the body.
Yes, well, he's remarkably stiff for the recently deceased.
It's too soon for rigor, even at this temperature.
There's no... entry wounds, no sign of trauma, but something sucked the life out of him.
Sucked the life out is right.
Abby is going to love this.
Thank you!
What a way to start the day.
Abby Sciuto?
Maybe?
FBI.
You need to come with us, Ms. Sciuto.
Now.
Where?
I'm not at liberty to say.
Well, then, I'm not at liberty to go.
You misunderstand.
It's not a request.
The deceased was Private First Class Marco Riggs.
Recently assigned to CLB-3, Combat Logistical Battalion, supporting troops in Afghanistan.
Until he was accused of stealing equipment, then selling it on the black market.
That include m*llitary-issue cell scanners?
It did, but Riggs disappeared before he could be formerly charged.
He's been listed UA since last week.
Apartment was a dead end.
We have a BOLO out on his vehicle.
Also waiting on the blood work from Abby.
We're going to have to wait a little bit longer.
Don't tell me she needs a root canal.
No, Fornell just called.
Abby's been... requested.
Requested?
By?
He didn't know. It just said the FBI has orders to transport her.
Okay, I can access the FBI operations database.
I have a contact at the DOD.
BOLO out on the FBI transport?
I don't know.
I thought... maybe I'd just try to call her first.
Hey, Gibbs. Don't worry.
No cavities. I was going to call.
Fornell already did. You okay?
Yep.
Where are you?
In the back of a van.
Abby...
I'm fine.
It's exciting.
Group of FBI agents swoops in and steals away an unsuspecting citizen to places unknown.
Yeah, it's the unknown part I don't care for.
I got Palmer's text about the vampire bite.
I can't believe I'm not going to be there for that.
Who are you getting to fill in?
Working on it.
Well, if you need anything before then, I keep a step-by-step "Abby's Lab for Dummies"
in my desk. It covers the basics. A monkey could follow the instructions.
Good.
'Cause we got one of those.
Did you realize that the end was nigh, I wonder, or was it a blissful event... as your ego and judgment melted away?
I mean, a stroke from...
Doctor?
Yes, Mr. Palmer.
May I stop mopping now?
It depends.
On?
Has it enhanced your understanding of protocol?
Consider me enhanced.
Good... then you may join me.
That invitation extend to me, too, Duck?
Since when have you waited for an invitation? Don't answer that.
I know, you like to keep people on their toes.
Yes, Doctor.
Protocol.
What? Okay, yes.
I will go not be in this room now.
What do you got?
Well, sadly for Abby, not the walking dead.
A histological examination of these wounds revealed that they're burn marks, not punctures.
More consistent with a stun g*n att*ck than a vampire bite.
A stun g*n?
Not normally a lethal w*apon.
However, I believe the electrical shock aggravated an underlying arterial weakness in his brain, and that led to a hemorrhagic stroke.
After he regained consciousness, he would've been severely confused.
He could've wandered around for hours before taking refuge on that... loading dock.
Then he took his shoes off?
Yeah, well, it's called peripheral neuropathy.
It's common in this kind of stroke.
His feet would have felt as if they were burning up, but I doubt that he knew what he was doing.
Towards the end, he would have been delirious, until eventually, his heart would have given out.
Stun g*n's a defensive w*apon, Duck.
Yeah.
Which suggests his death was unintentional.
I found something under his fingernails.
It almost certainly came from the assailant during the as*ault.
I need to send it up to Abby's replacement.
Well, that's going to be a long run, Ducky.
Just spoke to the DOD, boss.
Abby's replacement doesn't arrive until Monday.
Monday?
Monday.
I made a lot of noise, but, you know, they gave me a lecture about budget cuts. We did catch a break, though.
Got a BOLO back from our dead guy's car.
Want me to take Ziva, or...?
No, I'll take Ziva.
You... you take McGee.
Take McGee where?
Now, why did I get picked for the cover art?
You want to sign, or should I?
I will.
I am the one with a biomedical engineering degree from Johns Hopkins.
Among several other degrees.
Maybe that's why you got picked for the cover art.
Come in.
Ma'am.
Hi.
Yes.
From NCIS?
Yep.
I asked you here...
"Asked me." That's a good one.
... at the request of Dr. Phillip Heller.
He's in charge of a... rather special project.
Is it a m*llitary project?
Funded by the m*llitary, but Tarburst is an independent agency.
I'm not familiar with Dr. Heller's work.
No, but he is with yours.
He was quite impressed with your paper on Zinc Finger Nucleases in DNA Binding.
What kind of project are we talking about exactly?
Not the kind of project we can talk about.
It's why I was reluctant to allow your participation initially.
This is a highly classified matter.
So, what changed?
Dr. Heller is no longer with the program, and we... your country... need your help.
What do you need?
Welcome to The Cave.
The Cave?
You should rename this place Nirvana.
Dr. Heller was given a sizable budget.
I can see that.
And almost complete autonomy.
All information was compartmentalized, strictly need-to-know. Only three other people, besides myself, even knew of the existence of this program.
Knew?
Two of the original team members d*ed in a roadside b*mb att*ck in Afghanistan.
Which is why Dr. Heller's departure from the program has become... quite a problem.
This was sold to the Senate Select Committee on a warning of a grave and gathering thr*at.
What exactly was Dr. Heller working on?
That's the problem.
We don't know.
Patients aren't allowed on this floor. How did you get in here?
It's a hospital, isn't it? How do you think?
No, the hospital's upstairs. This is...
I know what this is, Sunshine.
I've escaped from P.O.W. camps with better security.
Just exercising the lungs.
Retired Marine.
Sergeant Major Robert King, N.C.
N.C.?
Not contagious. In case you were worried.
I was.
Where's Heller?
We got a game to finish.
Dr. Heller, he's... he's no longer with the project.
He isn't, huh?
No.
Well, doesn't that seem a little strange?
I mean, you know, considering...
Considering what?
God gave you a body, I'll give him that. Skimped on the brain, though.
Don't know how well you know the doctor, but if you knew Heller, you'd know he wouldn't run off and leave all this.
She found me.
Who?
Nurse Dunstan.
Makes Al Qaeda look like Jiminy Cricket.
I'm sorry.
He knows he's not supposed to come down here.
None of the patients are supposed to come down here.
I won't tell.
Thank you.
Let's go.
Next time you get out of bed, I'm having you catheterized.
You wish.
Nurse Dunstan... your liaison with the hospital.
If you need anything, extension 405.
Thank you.
And the lab rabbits should be here by 12:00.
Hopefully this batch lasts longer than the last.
Quick march.
Are you gonna help me, or are you gonna keep screwing around back there?
Every single drawer in this lab is unlocked except this one.
You're not wondering what's inside?
I'm wondering where Palmer is with the rest of that DNA.
Right here.
Here you go. Thought I might be able to help you guys.
I do have lab experience.
And I have a biomedical engineering degree from Johns Hopkins.
He sure does love saying that.
Hey, will you put the screwdriver down, come in here, and hand me the ethidium bromide, please?
I got it.
I don't think that's right...
I don't think you're supposed to do that.
All right.
Next step is to... mix the gel with the ethidium bromide.
I don't think you're supposed to do that. I think you're supposed to microwave the gel first...
All right, Mr. Johns Hopkins, Mr. Biomedical Degree.
You go ahead.
That's not good.
Nope.
Knucklehead.
Lucky for you Abby's not here, Hopkins.
Why is McGee lucky that I'm not there and who is Hopkins?
Where are you?
I'm at a public hospital just outside the city.
That's all I can say. They took my cell phone away when I got here, but I was able to open a video port into my lab... or... what's left of my lab.
He'll clean it up.
We'll clean it up.
They'll clean it up.
You'll all clean it up. But I need you to run a background for me first.
Background on who? Is everything all right?
I e-mailed the info to McGee.
You didn't answer the question.
Everything is fine. Okay, I got to go.
I shouldn't leave this video port open. And Tony, screwdrivers... they leave tool marks on locked drawers.
It's our dead guy's car.
And he appears to have been living in it.
What is it doing here? We're almost two miles away from the loading dock where the victim's body was found.
That is a long distance to have wandered after the att*ck.
Well, if there was an att*ck here.
No sign of a struggle.
There are houses not too far away.
Maybe our victim parked here for a planned rendezvous of some kind.
Maybe.
This is nice.
Being able to work without Tony's incessant babbling.
It is almost as if he cannot... go on for more than 30 seconds without hearing his own voice.
You know, the truly amazing thing is that he fails to realize just how irritating he is to those around him.
Yes, Gibbs?
Babbling.
Gibbs?
What?!
Victim's trunk.
I'm not so sure our victim was the intended victim.
Come in.
Mr. Jones.
Any progress?
I'm done.
That was fast.
Well, it's pretty esoteric stuff.
Basically, Dr. Heller was... attempting to hijack DNA's end-joining pathways in order to...
Target a specific strand of a person's DNA?
Why do I get the feeling you already knew that?
Maybe because I already knew that.
Was he successful?
He was close. What do you mean you already knew that?
Given the sensitive nature of this project, I had to make sure you were the real McCoy before I fully read you in.
So you lied.
And I didn't lose a minute's sleep. Is that a problem?
No.
Not at all.
Lie to me again. It was awesome.
Nice knowing you.
Wait. Miss Sciuto.
You can't leave.
Really? That's funny.
'Cause it really seems... like I'm, you know, leaving.
Okay, just out of curiosity, why can't I leave?
Because if you don't help us... they're all going to die.
Let's hear it.
Did you find anything good at Riggs' car?
Actually, yes. We found a...
What is that smell?
Still?
You're kidding me. I washed my hands a dozen times.
Wash 'em again.
Sorry, boss.
Had a little mishap in Abby's lab, running the DNA on Riggs' attacker.
More like Riggs' victim.
The contents of Riggs' trunk suggest he was planning on burying a body.
You think he was on some kind of hit?
Until it went bad.
He apparently did not count on his target fighting back.
Do we have any idea who his victim was?
I do. Palmer and I just finished running the DNA from under Riggs' fingernails.
You already tell Gibbs?
Tell Gibbs what?
You found the target.
What?
This is Dr. Heller. It's the guy Abby wanted us to run background on.
Abby was asked to take over for Heller when he went missing.
Well, I'm guessing he disappeared because...
Someone was trying to k*ll him.
And Abby has just taken his place.
Agent Gibbs, I appreciate your concern for my missing colleague, but that's exactly why Miss Sciuto needs to stay here right now.
You have to trust me on that.
I don't trust you.
I don't know you.
I sympathize with your position...
It's your choice! You either tell me what's going on or...
Or what? You'll thr*aten me?
Well, you know what?
That depends.
You consider a public investigation a thr*at?
We are on the same team.
About a year ago, my company became involved in a larger medical study of servicemen returning from Afghanistan. It was... rather routine until we discovered small numbers were suffering from an undiagnosed illness that was originally thought to be fatigue.
We alerted the m*llitary.
They didn't want to make the same mistake they did with Gulf w*r Syndrome.
Good. Good for them.
We got a contract to research the illness. We set up this lab.
The hope was, if we could identify the susceptible genotype, a cure could be developed.
Okay, well, obviously, somebody there doesn't want that to happen.
We don't know where Dr. Heller is.
All right, his disappearance may have nothing to do with this research.
Okay, until we find out, I want Abby here.
I'm afraid that's not going to happen.
Did I just not make myself clear?!
You misunderstand me.
Hi, Gibbs.[/i]
Hi, Abs.
You all right? Everything's fine, except you and I still have to talk about the lab bunnies.
Listen, Gibbs, I know what you're going to say.
You're worried because someone is after the doctor, and if someone's after the doctor and I took over his job, they might be after me. But I don't care.
These people are sick and I can help them and I'm staying, period.
Besides, this is a secure hospital.
I'm just as safe here as I would be at NCIS.
Safer, actually, 'cause they have bigger dogs.
I'd tell you not to argue with her, but, uh, I think you already know that.
"Afghanistan w*r Syndrome."
If this guy Heller... was working on a cure, why would someone try to k*ll him?
No connection between PFC Riggs and Heller.
Maybe he was a hired g*n?
It is likely.
So who hired him?
Good question, McGee.
Got the file from Jones?
Yeah, reading it now.
How is Abby?
Committed.
You can say that again. She'd be safer here.
Best way to protect her is to solve our original case.
Find Heller.
We cannot be sure the doctor's disappearance is tied to his work.
And even if it is, he's not going to be easy to find.
The FBI's had a BOLO out since Monday.
Dr. Phillip Heller, not M.D.
Got his PhD in molecular biology. Did a post-doc on Gulf w*r Syndrome.
Wife, no kids, was treated for a gambling addiction ten years ago.
Which seems to be under control now.
Credit card bills are low... gas, groceries, flowers. Does not spend more than he earns.
He was working at a V.A. hospital when he joined Jones' program.
Start with the wife.
On your six, boss.
I love a woman who's good with her hands.
And smart, too.
I thought you said God skimped on the brains.
Well, I'm a man of contradictions.
Am I interrupting?
Yes.
You got anything else?
It's giving me a headache.
Thank you.
I'm on the run.
It's bath time.
"Nurse Ratched" takes a little bit too much pleasure in it for my taste.
It's a shame,
'cause if she was my type, this would be the setup of a lifetime.
You're not asking me any questions.
Must mean you already got your answers.
You're sick, aren't you?
You have it.
Take a guess at the first question.
But what is "it"?
That's the million-dollar mystery.
Have you finished isolating our... genes or whatever it is you're doing down here?
I'm close.
That's what Heller used to say.
Look what happened to him.
He... he got... transferred.
You're a horrible liar.
I know.
Me, I lied for a living.
Used to run some of the biggest black ops in...
Panama, both Gulf Wars, Afghanistan.
I was very important.
You're still important.
Yeah, as a guinea pig, nothing else, just like... him.
That's okay, I guess.
When I signed up, it was because I was willing to die for my country, and I still am.
I dodged a b*llet, more than my fair share, but these boys today are... they... you know, they drill 'em to survive g*nsh*t wounds, land mines, air strikes.
Nobody warned 'em about "synergistic effects"
"of b*ttlefield contaminants".
Check.
Sorry, I'm just that good.
We're going to figure this out, you know.
Don't make any promises you can't keep.
But I got one that you can.
Anything.
Whatever this thing is, just don't let 'em name it after me.
Deal.
But you have to do something for me.
Anything.
Did you really escape from a P.O.W. camp?
Twice.
Why?
His buddies.
Rescue mission.
I'm in.
Garage sales.
Always a little strange.
I mean, what is this stuff?
What is that?
One man's junk is another man's junk.
Excuse me, are you Lois Heller?
Yeah.
Need to talk to you about your husband.
He's dead.
No, no, we just don't know where he is.
Well, that makes two of us.
What are you... a 42 long?
Well, that's...
When was the last time you spoke to him?
About three days ago, if you could call it speaking.
We don't exactly have what you'd call a good marriage.
Yeah, I'm picking up on that.
Here, it's about your size.
He give you any idea where he was?
Five bucks.
I'll give you three. Is this your husband's?
All right, look, the FBI have already been here, and I've already told them everything I know.
My husband said he was going out for a walk and he never came back.
Far as I'm concerned, he doesn't need to.
You should think about that coat.
It'd look good on you.
Yeah, thanks.
Well, I guess we got motive. Doesn't strike me as the kind of girl who'd... hire a hit man, though.
No, she'd rather do it herself.
Should we bring her in?
Flowers first.
Flowers?
Husband's credit card.
Don't think he was sending them to her.
Girlfriend, right.
We traced the flowers to a house in Landover owned by a Maggie Smith.
She claimed Heller was not there, but I smelled fish.
What?
Fishy, something fishy.
We found Dr. Heller hiding inside. Tried to run when he saw us.
He did not get far, and he was carrying this.
A stun g*n.
Matches the same marks Ducky found on PFC Riggs' neck.
You recognize him?
Yes.
You want to tell me about it?
I had nothing to do with that.
Well, then, how did your DNA end up underneath his fingernails?
I would be thrilled to sit here and just charge you with m*rder.
m*rder?
He tried to k*ll me.
Like I said, you want to tell me about it?
I came home from work three days ago.
Needed to clear my head, so I took a walk.
Suddenly this guy grabs me, shoves a g*n in my face.
I defended myself.
Is that a crime?
You always carry one of these?
Lately.
You didn't go back home, you didn't call the police. Why?
The police? People get mugged all the time.
I figured the guy'd be long gone before the police even got there.
I'm telling you the truth.
I didn't say you weren't.
But you're not.
You didn't go back home because they knew where you lived.
This wasn't a mugging, this was a hit.
That's crazy.
A hit on me?
Unless you think my wife hired somebody.
I know about the lab... and I know about the cure you were researching.
That's classified.
And that's a dead body!
I already got you at manslaughter.
I can prove intent, I got you at m*rder.
Wait...
You tell me what's going on, or you call your damn lawyer!
Why is somebody trying to k*ll you?
Because I discovered the truth.
Tarburst tried to hide it.
The tasks were compartmentalized, ostensibly for security purposes.
Isolate a genome, find a suitable viral vector.
They manipulated me.
All I could see were the technical hurdles and not the big picture.
Which was what?
People were sick, but I wasn't working on a cure.
I was building a w*apon.
I don't know where they came from, but suddenly there was, like, a dozen rabbits running through the halls.
Ready to celebrate?
Where is he?
Hang on a second.
This is... is Sergeant King's room, right?
It was.
I'm sorry.
You family?
Does it matter?
Not really.
Why don't you take a minute.
Sorry about that. It's been a long day.
Well... the good news is, I did it.
I isolated the...
Never mind.
You would find that so boring.
It's not a cure... but it maybe, someday... would...
I found her!
You're all right?
No.
What are you doing here?
The lab is secure.
What's going on?
Abs, you okay?
Do I look okay?
What is Abby's rule number one?
"Do not lie to Abby."
We left Heller in charge at the hospital.
Unfortunately, someone has already downloaded all of Abby's research.
Research? It was a w*apon.
People were dying, and I was a building a w*apon.
Jones is gone. Aide said he left in a hurry.
I'll put out a BOLO.
I'll coordinate with local LEOs.
How bad?
Jones had me create an enzyme to target the genomes of the sick soldiers.
Is that bad?
By itself, it's innocuous, but then, he had Dr. Heller create an immunogen to help the immune system k*ll off foreign invaders.
That's bad. No, it's the way every vaccine works.
Yeah, but when you put them together...
You can target someone via their DNA.
You can infect an entire water supply and only k*ll your intended victim.
We both made a piece of it.
Heller made the b*llet, and I made the g*n.
Assassination made easy.
But really, I mean, a g*n would be easier.
Didn't build it to k*ll someone.
Built it to sell it.
Perfect.
"Hi, I'm Abby Sciuto, "
"international bioweapons dealer".
Wait a second. How did Jones get it past his supervisors?
Sick soldiers.
You don't ask too many questions.
Oh, my God.
Come on, damn it!
Come on...
Oh, no.
Yeah, Abs.
Tony, check your inbox...
I need another BOLO ASAP.
Have you talked to Gibbs?
I didn't talk to Gibbs yet. Just do it!
All right.
I can hear you staring.
What'd you find, Ab?
It's what I didn't find, Gibbs.
I don't think there ever was an Afghanistan w*r Syndrome.
Soldiers were getting sick,
'cause soldiers do, but look at this.
Someone in the lab was swapping out their diseased blood with healthy samples.
Doctors had sick patients, but normal test results.
They couldn't find a cause.
They thought they had another mystery w*r syndrome on their hands.
Jones tricked the army.
They had no idea what was going on.
He got them to finance the project, and he wasn't alone.
Nurse Dunstan was the nurse on call every time there was a blood test.
I thought it was just a coincidence.
She was in on it with Jones.
I should have seen it, Gibbs.
Aren't you going to give me a pep talk?
No.
Why?
Because you're pissed.
And you should be.
Yeah. Gibbs.
A body's been found...
Where?
A hiker saw her body being dumped.
Get a description?
Nothing useful.
She was on the way to the coroner when the local LEOs got our BOLO.
An on-site assessment report indicates manual strangulation.
It appears she and Jones had a falling out.
He didn't need her anymore. He was tying up loose ends.
We have a tire print. Abby is running it.
I imagine this must have been quite an ordeal for her.
How is she doing?
Much better now.
Boss, no luck on the tire prints, but Abby has been monitoring every cell tower in the tri-state area.
She picked up a data fetch from Jones' smartphone.
He was checking airline departure times.
You get an airline?
And a flight number.
You messed with the wrong forensic scientist.
Did I miss it?
No, he's letting him sit.
Sit?
He gets a chair?!
He... he kills bunnies!
I'm impressed.
Didn't expect anyone to come looking for me so soon.
One-way ticket to Chile?
You got family there?
I want to make a deal.
Yeah?
If I cooperate.
Oh, you're going to cooperate.
Look, I'm not proud of what I did, but with the... budget cutbacks and... looking at my pension, I just...
... I figured I deserved more.
And you were willing to k*ll for it?
k*ll?
He actually seems legitimately surprised.
He does.
What exactly am I under arrest for?
I haven't placed you under arrest.
And when you do?
Oh, my God.
m*rder.
Conspiracy to defraud.
Throw in medical malpractice.
This is a mistake. I...
So cooperate.
Who's your buyer?
My buyer?
I know you're selling the research from Tarburst's program.
I'm not selling anything from the program.
Why were you running?
Because I was embezzling from it.
I was running because Abby succeed.
That would mean a GAO audit.
It would uncover what I did. I planned to be long gone before then.
I just didn't plan it so soon.
I have records, I could prove it. I don't know anything about a conspiracy.
Liar!
Sorry, Gibbs.
You set up the lab so you could sell my research!
I did not set up the lab. I don't know who did set up the lab.
I was ordered to run the lab, that's what I did.
Sergeant King didn't get the help he need because you falsified his medical records.
Who?
You don't even know his name.
Sergeant Robert...
King.
He's one of the patients in your program.
I know everyone's name in that program.
There is no Sergeant King.
Find him.
You look pretty good for a dead guy, except for the blood draining out of your face.
Tom, right?
That's your real name, isn't it?
What did I do wrong?
You made me care about you.
You're under arrest for the m*rder of Nurse Hannah Dunstan.
That is correct, and many, many more bad things, because you're a very bad man.
Little tip: next time you're playing chess with a forensic specialist...
Wear gloves.
And try to find better help.
Your little buddy, PFC Riggs, was sending you unencrypted e-mails.
Might as well put a big bull's-eye on your laptop.
Why?
Kept you from asking too many questions.
And I like to stay close when I'm running an op.
An op?
Op... is that what you call betraying your country?
You have no idea what I've done for my country.
Yeah, I do. I read your file.
You're the go-to guy for setting up black ops, right?
Specialty was bioweapons defense research.
Figured it was time to branch out, do a little freelancing?
Like I said, I'm a man of contradictions.
All right, here we go.
Is that it?
That all you have to say?
Checkmate.
Thought she wasn't coming in.
Neither did I.
Vance told her to take a week off. Maybe she wanted to work.
What are you doing down here?
I don't know. I got... an e-mail from Gibbs. Told me to meet him down here in the lab.
So did I.
Probies first.
Come on...
Gibbs doesn't use e-mail.
Hi, guys.
We've been set up.