Los Angeles, OSP. They have the lead.
NCIS's Office of Special Projects.
They specialize in undercover and surveillance.
Macy still agent in charge there?
How are you, Callen?
Did you see Mace?
Yeah, I saw her.
Let me do my job.
Like you did the first time we met?
Kickoff's in 30.
Guy on the right, Michael Rivkin.
When he called the other day, I thought he must have been here.
No. Sadly, Michael is not here.
Go tight on Liam. What do you see?
He's carrying...
Liam Coyle, former IRA arms dealer.
Motel.
Four blank passports.
Four suitcases filled with weapons.
That means whoever Liam's supplying is probably coming back to collect this.
Looks like you're going undercover as Liam.
Been expecting you.
It's a pleasure to finally meet you.
You have everything I want?
Times four.
Passports?
Everything.
And it's all here?
It's all here.
First the face, next the name.
You know, I met a man in Damascus who said you were dead.
Well, let me know when he passes. I'll come to his funeral.
Too late.
Who are you?
Abort, abort.
Target center of the room, w*apon drawn.
Federal agents! Don't move!
Put down your w*apon.
Put it down!
Come on, Mace, he wasn't gonna sh**t me!
Tell her you weren't gonna sh**t me?
I wasn't going to sh**t him.
No tension in the upper body, and the voice is all wrong.
Probably wasn't gonna sh**t him.
Be embarrassing if he had.
There's no room for probably, Nate.
Do we have a name?
Well, we just started. It's gonna take at least a...
We got a match here.
Put it on the screen.
Millions of possibilities, we get a hit in six seconds?
Michael Rivkin.
His name's Michael Rivkin.
FBI?
CIA?
NCIS.
He's way too confident.
Think we're about to go pear-shaped.
Who are you?
Mossad.
You can prove that?
No, but I know someone who can.
Her name is Ziva David.
NCIS Season 6 Episode 23 Legend Part 2
Morning.
Something up?
Gibbs.
He's back?
MTAC.
Nice, three one-word answers. Wanna go for a fourth?
No!
Now I'm gonna ask you a question that's gonna demand more than a one-word answer.
- Are you ready for that?
No.
All right, here comes the question. Ready?
No beverage is allowed in MTAC.
Hey. Soy vanilla latte, no sugar added. Didn't blow back.
It's all yours.
God, question was right on the tip of my tongue, and now I can't remember it.
How could I forget the question?
Questions are of course, well, they're relative.
And I don't mean that in a sense of...
OSP's on-line.
McGee, put it up.
You recognize him?
Yes, I know him. His name is Michael Rivkin.
He says he's Mossad.
Yes, he's with the Mossad.
Anything else you can tell us about him, Officer David?
No.
I have not worked with him in some time.
We will talk more about this later.
Of course.
You did not think I would identify him.
That was not a question.
Anything you want to tell me?
No.
One-word answer.
I win.
His cover is an Israeli banker.
Flew in three days ago. That's all we got, still looking.
What the hell is he doing here?
Same thing we are.
Tracking down a t*rror1st cell.
We're hunting the same cell.
Your search started here, mine in Yemen.
Okay, well, if I'm Liam Coyle, arms supplier, who does that make you?
Nick Quaderi, jihadist.
The real Liam's in the morgue. Where exactly is the real Nick Quaderi?
In bed.
221 Pacific Avenue, Apartment 27, Venice Beach.
No need to be quiet. You won't wake him.
You should've called us. Would've spared you a long ride from Yemen.
Need to be sure.
What did Quaderi tell you?
Weapons pickup here, a man named Liam.
Target?
No.
Rest of the cell?
Fell asleep before he told me.
I can tell you that one of the others is named Haziq.
Address.
That's all I have.
Give him your cell, Sam.
Be polite.
Good morning.
As I'm sure you're aware, foreign intelligence agencies are not authorized to act within U.S. territorial borders.
I would hate for your actions to cause an incident by staying here any longer, Mr. Rivkin.
We each have a job to do.
Yours is done.
Go home.
GPS tracker on his rental.
Sam, let him go.
Yeah.
Four passports, four suitcases.
Yeah, Rivkin's already put one of them to sleep.
One down, three to go.
Eric, give me outside surveillance.
On screen.
Agent Renko, you got him?
I got him, Mace.
Callen, Sam, Venice Beach, Quaderi's apartment.
Kensi, shut it down.
You thinking what I'm thinking?
Mumbai.
They att*ck soft targets.
Hotels, a railway station.
We need a breathing suspect, not a dead one.
That's not Rivkin's plan.
We have to stay ahead of him until I get approval to lock him up or send him home.
Officer David was sent back to Israel last year.
Are you asking me: do I trust her?
Because my answer is: yes, with my life.
You don't think I'm very good at this, do you?
The director must or you wouldn't be doing this job.
You shouldn't judge me on past performance.
It was 18 years ago.
What'd you find?
Okay, so...
Mossad gets a lead in Yemen about a t*rror1st cell operating out of Los Angeles, right?
Sends Rivkin to eliminate them.
Rivkin finds one of the t*rrorists, Nick Quaderi, kills him, but not before Quaderi mentions that he's meeting with an arms dealer named Liam.
And the only problem is, we're hunting the same t*rror1st cell.
t*rror1st cells are like families.
I mean, close-knit, always checking on each other.
Now, if they lost contact with one of their own, it may trigger them to step up the att*ck.
Next move is to find the cell member Rivkin mentioned.
Haziq.
Before he panics.
You think that Rivkin knows the identities of the rest of the cell?
It was right there in his smug smile, McGee.
He knows.
You okay, Mace?
I already told you not to go there, Nate.
Well... you know me too well.
No one knows you, Nate.
You, on the other hand, being the psychologist you are, know everyone.
Not Gibbs.
So you go back 18 years, huh?
I wasn't listening.
Odd word, occasional phrase.
Gibbs was a gunnery sergeant.
I was a green, young lieutenant in the m*llitary Police determined to prove myself.
You worked a case together?
You could say that.
It was a JAGMAN investigation, a m*rder.
I was the lead investigator.
And... Gibbs?
Gibbs was the suspect.
Nick Quaderi.
Guy's a ghost.
Definitely is now.
We got his name and his address. Paid his rent in cash, utilities paid by his landlord, so no photo I.D. there, and no credit cards.
You have any idea how many times your average law-abiding citizen is recorded every week, McGee?
Yeah, probably north of 3, 000 times.
Way north. Like northern Alaska north.
Every phone call, credit card transaction, Internet search, all swallowed up and stored on hard drives so people can troll them for personal information.
You mean, like we're doing right now.
Yeah, that's okay 'cause we work for the government.
We've got a national security letter to prove it.
This guy really did not want to be found.
Well, Rivkin found him, McGee.
Are you still tracking Rivkin?
Yeah, boss, we got him right there.
Marina Del Rey. We're pulling up the pictometry now.
His car's parked at a hotel.
Special Agent Renko?
He's out of his car and he's got a visual.
Let him know I'm coming.
I'm on it.
You got something else?
No, that about covers it.
I lived in a place like this when I was a kid.
I probably lived down the hall.
This is it. Apartment 27.
Nick Quaderi, if you're inclined to believe Rivkin.
What is it between Mace and Gibbs?
They've never told me.
Think they'll work it out?
Not without some help.
One-inch tear. Looks like a s*ab wound.
Clean and quick under the sternum, up into the heart.
There's a secret department in the Mossad called the Kidon. I had dealings with them when I was a Seal.
Highly trained, fearless.
They were formed after the w*r to track down Nazis.
Now they come after all enemies who would harm Israel.
I think Rivkin could be one of them.
Kidon?
Hebrew for "bayonet".
Morning, Mike.
Help yourself.
Where is he?
Hotel gazebo, having coffee at the middle table.
Went inside, came back out a couple minutes later.
He's been there ever since.
He's waiting for somebody.
That's my guess.
Whose boat is this?
I have no idea.
Sand with the grain of the wood, Renko.
You done this before?
Yeah.
Download complete. Rest in peace.
If that's what you want, sure.
Next week, then.
Yeah, ciao.
Hi.
Who are you?
My name's Liam. I'm a friend of Nick's.
Sort of. And you are?
Shakira, his girlfriend... sort of.
Nick, I'm here!
But Nick's not.
Then how did you get in?
He's supposed to meet me here, but he's late.
I was just gonna leave him a note.
Liam.
You got a plan? Hey, Nick.
Clever.
I'm in your apartment waiting. Where the hell are you?
I'm in the next room. Calm down, take it easy, all right?
Hey, Shakira just walked in. Do you want to talk with her?
Not particularly.
Okay, no problem.
What do you have in mind?
Haziq's place?
Sure, if that's what you want, we'll come right over.
He didn't want to talk on the phone.
He wants us to come to his friend's place...
Haziq?
Do you know him?
You don't?
No.
Lucky you.
I'll call a cab.
My car's out front.
Great.
Is the bathroom through here?
Rivkin gives us Haziq's name.
She leads us to him. Stay close.
How you gonna play this?
I gotta believe Haziq still wants what Liam's got.
And if he doesn't?
You come rescue me.
You think she's involved?
They're sleeping together.
She's involved whether she knows it or not.
Yeah.
What kind of car do you drive?
A convertible.
Convertible? Red?
Yellow.
I like yellow.
Mace? What's happening, Sam?
Callen's back in the game.
We're stopping at an auto shop downtown... 13th and Bakers Lane.
This place creeps me out, or maybe it's just Haziq.
Nick bring you here often?
Couple times.
Haziq was trying to recruit him.
For what?
Hey, who's this?
Nick's friend. He called.
Told us to meet him out here.
He didn't call me.
Nick's friend, huh?
Liam.
What can Nick's friend do for us?
I can give you what you've been waiting for.
Come in, Nick's friend.
He's just met a guy, probably Haziq.
I'm downloading photos. I need some more eyes down here.
Kensi's on her way. Eric, live feeds?
No coverage.
Kensi, you're gonna have to get a camera in there.
I'll come up with something.
You want to bang on something, baby, you found your man.
Hey, relax. We're cool, eh?
Not today, boys.
Have a nice day.
Shakira, bring our guest a cold drink.
Are you armed?
Back.
Cell phone?
She doesn't know?
Why should she? She's just a woman.
Nick is not the one who's supposed to contact you.
He called me, told me to come to his apartment.
Then he changed the meeting here.
Why?
You're just gonna have to ask him when he gets here.
Thank you.
Come and sit down.
The cell phone you are trying to reach is switched off or out of range.
Please try again later.
Where is Rafi?
How would I know?
He's your brother. You should be more respectful.
Sweet.
Eric, activate Callen's cell phone.
Microphone and camera coming online.
Phone cam's up at Haziq's auto shop.
Cell phone.
Trace it, and feed it through to Sam to translate.
"I need you here, Nasim."
"Is Rafi with you?"
"What about Nick? Have you heard from him?"
"I'm not sure if there's something wrong.
Just get down here as soon as you can."
He's anxious.
Feeling pressured.
Wants his men around him.
He's not the only one.
Director Vance on the line for you, Mace.
Where's Kensi?
Director?
Hey. A guy just backed into me.
Do you think you could possibly...
We're closed.
Come on, man, I just need to know if it's safe to drive.
You have a bathroom?
No, we don't.
This is not so bad. You are safe.
It's cosmetic damage. Just bring it back next week.
Okay.
Is Wednesday okay?
Wednesday's fine.
Thank you.
Camera's inside the door.
Pulling up the new camera angle.
I understand, Director. I will.
Good-bye.
Traced the call Haziq just received.
Caller's name is Nasim Boutros.
Home address is a long-stay hotel, room 1122, at 73 Promenade Way, Marina Del Rey.
Mace, that's the hotel Rivkin is staking out.
Where was Nasim when he made that call?
Less than a half mile from the hotel.
On his way home.
And Rivkin is waiting for him. Get Gibbs.
Yeah. Vance has cleared it with the Attorney General. We have a FISA warrant. Get Rivkin.
Go around back!
Gibbs!
Yeah. Clear.
Any idea what they're arguing about?
Cell phone coverage.
Haziq can't reach anyone on his phone. And...
Jumah's telling him it's a piece of American junk.
How did Nick sound on the phone?
He sounded okay.
They're planning something, aren't they?
If they use what they're buying from me... yeah.
Do you have any idea what it is?
No.
Change of plans.
You are going to make the weapons delivery today.
Here?
Yes, here.
Call whoever you need to call.
You have an hour, and then our business is done.
He's calling Sam. Hey, it's Liam.
Bring the suitcases to the auto shop at 13th and Baker's Lane in one hour.
Okay, let's make it happen. One hour.
McGee, anything on Rivkin?
No. GPS marker says he didn't leave the hotel parking lot.
He must have found the GPS tracker and dumped it.
Got a BOLO out on his rental. Nothing yet.
Keep on it.
Yes, ma'am.
It's him. It's Tim.
He knows I'm sitting at his desk.
Tell him you're in your lab. He won't know.
He'll know. He knows everything.
Gibbs knows everything.
McGenius is smart, but he doesn't know everything.
Hi, Tim.
I'm not upstairs in the squad room.
I'm in my lab. I'm working.
Are you sitting at my desk?
No.
Abby, listen, last night, you did a facial recognition search on Michael Rivkin. Why?
What makes you think that?
You logged the search.
I did?
I did.
Did Tony ask you to do it?
I'm not at liberty to say.
You are at my desk, aren't you?
Yeah.
And Tony is watching you?
Yeah.
Can I talk to Tony, please?
Okay. It's for you.
It's McGoo... McGee... Tim.
Sorry, McGee.
Ignore her, Probie. She's suffering Gibbs withdrawal.
Transferring it onto you because of a deep-seated fear that Gibbs may withhold love and give her first-time head slap if he came back and saw his desk festooned in balloons and decorated like some tacky tiki bar with messages of affection written possibly in blood.
She ain't missing you at all.
In fact, I can't think of a single person that's missing you.
Well, I'll tell you who we're all missing and that's Michael Rivkin.
Define "missing".
Two members of the t*rror1st cell are dead after Rivkin paid them a visit, and now he's dropped out of sight.
Do you think that there is any chance Ziva...
Don't ask that question.
Well, Tony, someone has to ask it.
I know, McGee.
I know.
Leave it to me.
Here you go.
Here's what we know.
Nick Quaderi, dead.
Almost certainly k*lled by Michael Rivkin.
Nationality, unknown. Date of birth, unknown.
Quaderi has a girlfriend, Shakira.
Who has a brother, Rafi Zayd.
No confirmed photo. Moved back to Yemen when he was seven.
No record of him returning to the U.S. Probably here illegally.
Nasim Boutros, stabbed by Rivkin at his hotel.
American citizen, born in Syria.
Immigrated here when he was 14. Has a degree in engineering.
No criminal record.
First name... Jumah. Last name... unknown.
Looks like he works at the auto shop, but he's not listed as an employee with the IRS. Possibly here illegally.
And finally, Haziq Khaleel.
Born in Syria. Immigrated 12 years ago. Owns the auto shop.
Pays his taxes, and has no criminal record.
Five men, all born outside the United States.
Very few personal details, no criminal activity.
Not on anyone's watch list.
It's a classic sleeper cell.
Rivkin's making sure none of them wake up.
Five people.
Four passports, four suitcases. Something's missing.
Then number five is the handler.
Maybe Haziq?
No, Haziq's an alpha male.
A physical, take-charge kind of guy.
Aggressive, angry.
Handlers are more refined.
Methodical planners, smooth talkers.
They know how to get under people's skin.
You know, make 'em feel things and do things, and...
You get the idea.
If it's not Haziq?
Well, Shakira's brother Rafi's too young.
Wouldn't have the respect of the others who all seem to be older.
Then that leaves Nick Quaderi.
Yeah, but according to Rafi's sister, Nick Quaderi didn't know any of them till her brother introduced him to Haziq.
Then we're missing something.
Yep.
Or someone.
What did I miss?
Abby playing with crayons, possibly blood.
McGee calling. And I made a paper airplane that was so fantastic it broke the office gliding record.
But really all the fun's happening in another area code.
Are we... fighting?
If we were, you would be on the floor bleeding.
Okay, I accept that as a likely outcome. So you're just annoyed with me?
Angry?
You should not be surprised.
Because of this morning?
You thought I would not identify Michael Rivkin as a Mossad operative.
I didn't say a word.
You did not have to.
So you think you did the right thing?
You think I didn't?
Maybe you should have told them more.
Like how well you know him.
How well do I know him, Tony?
You know him better than they think you do.
And you know that how?
You saw him when he was in D.C. three days ago.
You didn't tell when you had the chance. And I'm just wondering why, that's all.
Are you, by any chance, questioning my loyalty?
I'm questioning why you didn't tell them you saw him three days ago.
Are you jealous?
No.
I'm worried.
Because you don't seem to understand that your secret friend is interfering with this agency's ability to shut down a t*rror1st cell.
Interfering? How is he interfering?
He's already k*lled two suspects.
Well, in my country that would be cause for celebration.
You're not in your country, and neither is he!
Have you finished?
Yes.
Good.
No.
Another question.
You know where we can find him?
No, I don't.
And if you did, would you tell me?
No.
But I would tell Gibbs.
I tried to stop my brother Rafi from getting involved with them.
Now he's dragged Nick into it.
How long have you known him?
Three months.
He travels a lot. I don't get to see him as much as I wanted.
At first Rafi didn't want me to see him at all, but...
Nick was patient.
Now, they're like brothers.
I've never met Rafi.
You don't have any photos, do you?
Of course.
Nick took it.
And you've probably got tons of photos of Nick in there, huh?
Nick's so camera shy, it's crazy.
Hard to believe, but... this is the only photo I have.
Eric, talk to me.
Have we lost audio?
They're whispering, Mace.
Who's whispering?
Everybody.
Why the hell are they whispering?
You ready?
On your command, Mace.
Stand by. If you were Rivkin, where would you be?
I wouldn't be far. I'd want to finish the job.
At our expense. If we're gonna find their target and their support team, we need at least one of them alive.
No, he doesn't think that way.
Where the hell are you going?
Let you know when I get there.
Come on, G, speak up!
I need to contact Nick.
You heard Haziq... he's not answering.
Well, I'm guessing he gave you another number, in case something bad happened.
Something bad is going to happen.
You can't keep running away from this, who they are, what they're planning to do.
Something bad's going to happen to Nick?
To your brother.
Who are you?
I'm someone you need to trust right now.
Okay, they've stopped whispering.
I'm tired. I'm going home. You can't keep me here.
No one leaves.
You can't stop me.
Your friend better be on time.
Promise me nothing will happen to Rafi.
Promise me.
I promise you.
Three-one-0... five-five-five... zero-one-three-zero.
Nick Quaderi's real name is Michael Rivkin.
He can be contacted at 310-555-0130.
I already have his number, and I don't care what his real name is.
Okay?
Searching for the number.
Rivkin's been playing us all along.
It's a cell phone.
I need a GPS location now.
Nick Quaderi's the name Michael Rivkin used.
He befriended Shakira so he could get to know her brother Rafi.
Won over the brother to get invited into the cell.
That means that the body Rivkin told us was Quaderi is actually...
Rafi Zayd, her brother.
All right, we got Rivkin's location. He's almost on top of him.
Pass it on to the nearest team.
I can't wait. Sam?
Game's yours. Okay, Mace. Moving in.
Go, go, go!
Federal agents! Freeze!
NCIS!
Sam, I want him alive.
Clear!
Clear!
All clear!
You'll live.
Secured.
Rivkin?
I got him, McGee.
You're Gibbs.
Time for you to go home.
Now.
I don't like leaving things unfinished.
You're done.
I'm finishing it for you.
I leave, Washington and Tel Aviv look the other way.
That's not what I'd do.
We fight the same w*r.
Only ours began in Auschwitz.
I have six million uniforms.
Every one is different.
I got one.
She works for me.
Shalom.
Guess that drink's gonna have to wait.
Well, my basement's always open.
It's good to see you, Jethro.
Yeah.
Stay low.
Red-eye, huh?
Yeah.
Always worked for me.
Sorry.
Thanks.
No problem.
Long day, huh?
Yeah, yeah, long... day.
Just getting some, uh, some air.
Right.
Agent Gibbs?
Good to meet you, Nate.
Likewise.
I...
I took an oath not to betray confidences, but...
I can't see any harm in telling you a story.
18 years ago, there was this young lieutenant in the m*llitary Police who investigated a m*rder.
A Marine gunnery sergeant had taken out this Mexican drug dealer who k*lled his family.
The young lieutenant interrogated the suspect, didn't hold back.
He just wanted closure, and... she wouldn't leave his wife and daughter to rest in peace.
Kind of thing that stays with you.
Anyway, she got all the evidence together, and... then she buried it.
Decided it was a... just k*lling.
My guess is that the guy never even knew that she'd been protecting him all these years.
Well...
I think I had enough fresh air.
Are you gonna get out?
I think it's time to move.
Again?
That's 3 times in the last 18 months.
It's 4.
I don't know, I...
I just feel like someone's watching me.
It's probably that Russian girl you told me about.
You ever gonna settle down, G?
One day.
Crazy son of a...
G!
Come on, G. Come on, G. Stay with me.
Stay with me, G. Don't do this to me, come on!
Yeah, I need an ambulance.
Ocean Front Road, Venice.
Stay with me. Stay with me.
Come on, buddy.
I missed McGee.
I would never have guessed that.
Hey, you and Ziva want to go get a drink?
She is already gone.
Did you do that secret thingy I asked you to do?
Yep.
Rivkin flew out of Los Angeles today, unescorted.
Destination?
Tel Aviv.
With a stopover... in DC.