Transcripts - Forever Dreaming

Lor-i, lor-i, lor-i, lori.

Lori-i, lor-i, lor-i, lori.

My corps.

My corps.

Your corps.

Your corps.

Our corps.

Our corps.

Marine Corps.

Marine Corps.

Ooh-rah.

Ooh-rah.

Ooh-rah. Ooh-rah.

Ooh-rah. Ooh-rah.

Four miles to go, Marines.

Back in formation, Fricker.

Platoon, halt.

At ease.

Marine, what part of "fall in" don't you understand?

Sergeant, we got a problem.

Shut yourself, Fricker.

Don't answer me. Don't even look at me.

What do you think you're doing?

Over there, Sergeant.

Come on.

Come on.

I got gum. I got...

Oh...

Spare change, old lip balm.

They're not in here.

Found candy left over from Valentine's Day.

Candy from who?

Why does it matter?

It matters because you didn't eat it.

And so that person must not mean very much to you.

It means something.

It means nothing.

I'm glad I wasn't your valentine.

So am I.

Here you go, McGee.

I found this.

One of my motivational CDs.

I've been looking for this.

Yeah, you should have looked harder.

Well, gee, I'm sorry I didn't think to look in your desk.

Hey, you know what?

Whoever drove the van last probably has the keys.

Yeah!

Oh, yeah.

I went and got pizza yesterday 'cause I was hungry.

Then what did you do with the keys, Tony?

Well, I drove back. I ate the pizza.

I threw out the box, and...

Oh.

You-you know what? Today is garbage day.

You'd better... you'd better hurry.

Where is the Dumpster?

In the basement.

Did you lose something, David?

Not I. Tony did.

DiNozzo.

What'd you lose? Your watch?

Driver's license?

Uh, neither.

Got a dead body.

Navy diver.

Who's driving?

Well, boss, uh, there's a little problem.

No, the problem is that I found these on the elevator floor.

That's my bad. - Uh-huh.

Won't happen again.

I doubt that.

Meet you all downstairs.

Oh, oh.

* Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside *

* I do like to beside the sea... *

You know, strolling on a beach like this at this time of year reminds me of weekends we used to spend with Mother and some friends in Brighton.

They made us eat winkles.

To this day, I shudder at the thought of eating any kind of snail.

I've always preferred oysters myself.

Of course you do, Jimbo.

Oysters-- nature's aphrodisiac.

Surprised Blondie doesn't have you shucking night and day.

That's pretty cute.

Aw, shucks.

So how is Bryn anyway?

Oh, excellent.

She just became a union rep for her embalmer's local.

She must have quite a pair of hands.

Her talents never cease to amaze me.

Navy diver.

What are you thinking, Duck?

Well, he didn't run out of air.

However, I can't rule out nitrox poisoning.

The fishies sure did a number on him.

As did a propeller.

See? The blade sliced through and removed his entire left forearm, but almost certainly after he was dead.

This was no boating accident!

Richard Dreyfuss in Jaws, you know, when he finds the arm?

The medical ex... You know that...

I love that part, yeah.

Jaws is classic.

I estimate the time of death to be between three and five days ago, based on the degree of decomposition.

A Navy diver doesn't go out alone, Duck.

That's a long time not to be reported missing.

Unless he wasn't supposed to be found.

McGee, details.

Lieutenant Michael Jensen, age 36.

Prior enlisted.

U. S. Navy master diver based out of the Experimental Diving Unit in Panama City, then detailed to Little Creek.

It says here he was on leave.

C. O. wouldn't have reported him U. A.

Diving on his day off.

Yeah, or moonlighting.

Hello, hello. What have we here?

There's a puncture wound through his wet suit.

Swordfish?

Doubtful.

Speargun?

It's difficult to tell till I get him back.

Blood loss from this would accelerate the feeding frenzy.

You were right, Jethro.

Lieutenant Jensen was not diving alone.

Whoever was with him stabbed him and then left him in the water to die.

Any family?

Owned a home in Portsmith.

No wife, no kids.

No accident.

Could have sent McGee.

Yeah, could have.

I wanted to see how Jensen lived.

It says a lot about a man.

Take your house, for instance.

Clean, no nonsense, stoic.

Stoic?

My house is stoic?

Understated, then?

I planted some roses last weekend.

Red ones.

Red roses stoic?

Well, yeah, prickly and thorny like...

Go.

Clear, boss.

Maybe not totally clear.

Toss the g*n. Do it now.

Take it easy, sweetheart. Who are you?

I'm not the one breaking and entering.

No, the door was open.

Ladies first.

It's turning into a party around here.

Wow. Looks a little like Reservoir Dogs.

Except you're cuter than Harvey Keitel.

We're federal agents.

Get his I. D.

Look. Don't touch.

NCIS.

Come on, really?

Who are you guys?

DEA? FBI?

CGIS.

Coast Guard, boss.

You got a problem with that?

No.

Yeah.

Put the w*apon away, Kyle.

Oh, yes, ma'am.

That's a nice head slap.

What is CGIS?

Coast Guard Investigative Service.

The Coast Guard has an investigative branch?

Well, they're smaller than us, but with a wider law enforcement reach.

But is is the Coast Guard.

Whoa, whoa.

No need to get all uppity.

Yes, Virginia, there is a CGIS.

Now, they may not have our track record, or our je ne sais quoi, but they are a legitimate sibling.

Like Corky in Life Goes On.

Who?

We ran into Borin and her probie at Jensen's house.

She remind you of anyone?

Like who, exactly?

Come on in.

Get you a cup of coffee?

That'd be fine, Agent Gibbs.

Oh, so this is NCIS.

Sorry to disappoint you.

Of course, I'm going to need to talk to your director right away.

Well, my case, my questions.

Jensen's Navy.

The case belongs to NCIS.

Well, that depends on his involvement.

How's him being dead?

He still could be my k*ller.

Okay, whose m*rder are you investigating?

About a week ago, one of our recon flights spotted a salvage boat adrift about eight miles off the coast of Virginia.

Only one on board was the captain-- a guy named Martin Lime.

Found him bludgeoned to death.

Case fell in my lap.

How's Jensen fit?

I found some security video of Jensen and Captain Lime talking at the marina.

My gut said he might be worth questioning.

Your gut?

Yeah.

I like to conduct my own investigation.

Right there with you.

Any death on a U. S. registered vessel is FBI or Coast Guard jurisdiction.

So where's the FBI?

They told us to call if we get close on anything.

I got your number.

No, you don't.

So, what's your beef, Gibbs?

That I'm Coast Guard?

That I'm a woman?

Or that I managed to get the drop on you in that house?

I don't know you.

That's it?

It was a maxim of Captain Swosser-- speaking in his naval figurative manner, that "If you only have a plank to swab, you should swab it as if Davy Jones were after you."

He was certainly after this poor fellow.

You quoting Jack Sparrow?

No, no, no, Mr. Palmer.

Charles Dickens--

Bleak House.

Hmm.

I prefer Treasure Island.

Robert Louis Stevenson.

Ah, yes. One of my favorites, too.

I used to jump up on my bed, pretend I was Jim Hawkins sailing with Long John Silver.

Oh, magnificent.

How old were you, ten, nine?

Uh, 23.

Ah.

"For the boy's story is the best that he's ever told."

Dickens.

And what's his story, Duck?

But, unfortunately, much of this poor lad's demise-- well, it must remain a mystery.

Dead men do tell tales, and some better than others.

I mean, he's the same height and build as Lieutenant Jensen, but the only way to confirm his identity is by DNA and dental records.

Cause of death?

Being shanked by a screwdriver didn't help.

I'm sorry.

Sea lice in his esophagus, the cyanosis, oh, and nasal hemorrhage, all point to death by drowning.

Master diver drowns swimming to shore?

May I remind you, uh-- an injured diver.

Even the best of us meet our match.

Abby is processing his diving equipment.

Thank you, Duck.

Tread softly, Jethro.

Ms. Sciuto, for some unexplained reason, is not herself today.

Aah.

Abby.

Abbs.

Ow!

Oh. Hi.

Hi.

I was just cleaning, um, Jensen's laptop.

Everything all right?

No, it's not.

What are you doing here?

I work here.

I know what you're doing "here, " but I always know when you're coming here, and I didn't.

You don't have anything?

I've got nothing.

Okay, Jensen drowned, but he still had plenty of nitrox in his tanks.

I'm still processing these little rubber things that were in his teeth. I think they're from the regulator.

And I have no idea how to get into Jensen's laptop.

He's got a code built in here that would make the NSA proud.

I'm just... I'm off my game.

Well, maybe this will help.

You think I didn't try this already?

I had two Caf-POWs this morning.

That's kind of when things started going south.

I just... I don't know what's wrong.

Abbs, I need what's in that laptop.

I know you do.

Maybe a hug would help.

Didn't help.

I guess I'm just going to keep banging my head.

No, don't do that.

I need what's in that head.

Aah.

Special Agent Abigail Borin.

She's 34.

Served a tour of duty in Iraq as a sergeant.

No spouse. No little Borins.

It's uncanny, isn't it?

What?

A former marine turned surly investigative agent who flies by the seat of her gut.

How do you know that?

He was eavesdropping outside the conference room.

It's called research, McTattle.

Anyway, I think a law of nature's being violated here.

Like matter and antimatter colliding or something.

That would be bad. You read comic books.

Are you obsessed with this woman because she reminds you of Gibbs or because she is quite attractive?

Oh, yeah. Gosh, I hadn't even noticed.

Noticed what?

Oh, hey.

Uh, we're just talking about the case, and the complexities an-and the deeply layered...

Where's Gibbs?

Oh, he's avoiding me, but I am not going anywhere.

So, what do you got?

"What do you got?" she says.

What we have is Lieutenant Michael Jensen.

He was in the service 12 years, last eight as a master diver.

His record was spotless: several commendations, two Purple Hearts.

Video shows him at the marina with Lime.

So any other connections?

No, no, nothing in Jensen's finances.

There was an odd charge, though.

Payment to a storage facility in Alexandria-- three years, paid in full.

That's a long time to keep something in a locker, huh?

Unless you want people to forget about it.

So when can we have access?

We?

Well, first thing tomorrow morning.

Great.

Uh...

Is there a problem?

No, it's just...

Do you have any siblings?

None. Only child.

Small town in Ohio.

Tell Gibbs I'll wait for him outside MTAC.

Nice comm.

Must have set the Navy back a few bucks.

The Coast Guard does not have capabilities like this?

We're still capable of plenty.

Just because CGIS is small, it doesn't mean we're impotent.

Jensen and the boat connected?

Quantico, please.

Yes, ma'am.

Hi.

That one of yours?

Outsourced.

Downsizing's rough.

We make it work.

Ms. Choi, could you tell Special Agent Gibbs your findings, please?

We dusted Martin Lime's boat, and Lieutenant Jensen's prints were all over it.

Blood?

Some. The type matched the lieutenant as well.

Still waiting for DNA.

We think you have a double homicide on your hands:

Captain Lime and Lieutenant Jensen.

One civilian, one navy.

Thank you.

Thank you.

So, do we keep chasing each other in circles, or do we work together to find a k*ller?

We have everything we need right here.

I'm willing to try.

Okay.

Welcome aboard.

Our recon flight spotted Captain Lime's vessel the Delilah here.

Did the boat have a GPS on it?

Yeah, which indicated it'd been trolling back and forth in a grid pattern for almost a week.

He was looking for something.

Yeah. It stopped in this location, and presumably the murders took place there.

So once the k*ller found what he was looking for, he kills Captain Lime, tosses Lieutenant Jensen overboard and abandons ship.

It's miles to shore. No way he could swim it.

Maybe.

You have satellite photos of other ships in the area?

My people are already working on it.

What about my people?

We...

Uh, yes, boss, we... tracked several large deposits recently made to the captain's bank account.

And we've got a recurring phone number on Jensen's cell to a Missy Dawkins out of Reston.

She's coming in. I'll take it.

And?

And-and I have...

...the warrant for the storage unit Jensen rented.

Get Ziva to check out the storage unit...

Agent Gibbs and I will take the storage unit.

Sorry. It's your house.

DiNozzo.

Get Ziva, check out the storage unit.

On it, boss.

Agent Borin, you want to walk me through your evidence log?

Yeah, no problem.

You can call me Abby.

No, no, that's not going to happen.

Oh, my God. I can't believe he's dead.

What was your relationship with the deceased?

You mean he's deceased, too?

Um, how did you... how did you know Lieutenant Jensen?

We dated on and off for the last six months.

He was a fun guy.

He just didn't have much...

Money.

I was runner-up Miss Biloxi.

I'm accustomed to a certain lifestyle.

Yeah, I bet you are.

When was the last time you saw him?

Oh, about two weeks ago.

Michael said he was going off on some hush-hush navy thing.

Told me when he came back, he'd have a lot of money to burn.

Did he say exactly how much?

Enough to make all my dreams come true.

According to the log, the last time Jensen accessed his unit was two weeks ago. Was he alone?

I couldn't say.

What do the cameras say?

Not much. They haven't worked for years.

Security's pretty tight around here, huh?

Do I tell you how to do your job?

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...

Act like a jerk?

If I could walk, you know, I'd kick your navy ass.

All right, this is Jensen's unit.

I, uh, have a bigger unit if you'd prefer to see that.

Keys.

I'll be in my office if you need me.

Huh.

Ah. Smells musty.

Hmm.

Ah. What do we have here?

Look at all this stuff.

Ah.

Mm-hmm.

These are ocean charts.

This is where the Delilah was abandoned.

Calafuego.

Treasure hunters.

Is that what this is all about-- treasure?

Pirate treasure.

Oh, this looks like David Jones's locker.

Davy Jones.

He used to sing with The Monkees.

Real monkeys?

I envy your brain sometimes.

Hey, Abby.

Hey.

Gold reales and a sunken treasure, Gibbs.

All taken from Jensen's storage locker.

Pretty cool. Almost makes up for the way I feel.

Although I hear you're having your own personal problems...

Special Agent Abigail Borin.

Abby.

Abby.

So, Abby, what do you got?

What do you got, Abbs?

Other than like a five-alarm migraine--

I was finally able to decrypt Jensen's laptop.

The most interesting thing on here is a nested folder containing e-mails between Jensen and a Dr. Joseph Mavrey.

He's a big surgeon in DC.

What were they about?

At first glance, it seems like they're talking about sports,

'cause they keep using the term "a cage foul."

But that is an anagram for...

Calafuego.

It's the ship Jensen was researching.

Maybe it's a coincidence.

Mmmm. Don't believe in them.

Of course not.

Okay, so according to the history books, the Calafuego went down off the East Coast.

Maybe Jensen was looking for it.

Or found it.

Maybe he had a partner.

It costs a lot to recover a ship.

Mm.

They'd have to be rich.

Very.

Thanks, Abbs.

Are you sure I can't get you anything?

Yeah, I'm sure.

Mrs. Mavrey, we actually need to speak with your husband.

I'm afraid that's impossible. He's out of the country.

Another International Doctor's Group crisis in South America.

He won't be back for weeks.

Is there any way that we can reach him?

No. Joe turns everything off when he travels.

He says it distracts him from the work.

Does the name Michael Jensen ring a bell?

Is he a patient of my husband's?

No. He's a navy diver.

He's dead.

Oh, I'm-I'm so sorry.

Apparently, you husband Dr. Mavrey contacted him multiple times.

Look, because of the success of Joe's work, he is constantly meeting new people.

There's no way I could possibly keep track of them all.

When he checks in, I'll be happy to mention it.

But then it might be too late.

When you do hear from him, if you could let us know, we'd appreciate it.

I will, absolutely.

She's covering for her husband.

Maybe.

Gibbs, we should bring her in for questioning.

Push her harder.

Based on what?

Based on... my gut.

Right, right, yeah, I've heard that before.

So what, we're just supposed to sit around and wait?

Yeah, for now.

Is that the navy way?

No, it's the smart way.

SECNAV has pull with the attorney general.

Doctors' charity-- A. G. 's on the board.

So we'll get him.

I know that.

Look at all of these swashbuckling movies.

And Errol Flynn.

Captain Blood!

And Douglas Fairbanks.

Huh? The Black Pirate.

Imagine Gibbs as a pirate?

A little eye patch and the peg leg?

A parrot on his shoulder?

We are not talking about pirate movies. Look at this.

Mel Fisher found the Atocha in 1985.

Made almost 450 million bucks.

The real Calafuego went down in 1647 loaded with gifts for the Spanish government.

So, if this really turns out to be the Calafuego, no telling how much money's at stake here.

Give me a ballpark, McGee.

$250 million easy, boss.

Jensen must have isolated the wreck site and went looking for a backer to fund the recovery mission.

Why Mavrey?

Look, 'cause he was more than just a good heart surgeon.

He had 16 patents pending.

So he could afford to play treasure hunter.

So Mavrey k*lled him to avoid splitting the loot.

It's very Treasure of the Sierra Madre.

So Mavrey doesn't need the money, though.

Ooh, no, actually he does.

Apparently, one of the stents is flawed.

Thousands of lawsuits flying around now, so he's going to need as many high-priced lawyers as he can afford.
Gibbs.

Just got a call from the attorney general's office.

Mavrey's doctor group never left the country.

He's been here all along.

BOLO, McGee. Find him.

Already on it.

Okay, Dr. Mavrey just logged in to his own Web site to perform a bypass surgery.

Look, you can watch it live if you click here and pay $19.99.

Where is he?

His own facility-- Northwest D. C.

That's 1200 Meadowlark Ave, boss.

Click there. Click it.

Hell of a place to hide.

His own clinic-- not real bright.

Dr. Mavrey-- where is he?

I'm sorry. I'm not at liberty to say.

Dr. Mavrey's gone. He won't be back...

We know he just signed in online surgery.

We need to see him. We're federal agents.

I'm telling you he isn't here.

He hasn't been for days.

They're getting ready for surgery.

You can't go in there.

Dr. Mavrey, we need to talk.

What is this?

Who are you?

Victor Kalsa. I'm Dr. Mavrey's associate.

I fill in for him when he isn't available.

We're about to start a surgery here.

I know that. Where's Mavrey?

Well, to be honest, we haven't heard from him in over a week.

Was he there?

No, not exactly.

Dr. Mavrey has his partners do his online surgeries for him.

Well, a flag just went up on one of Mavrey's credit cards here.

Hired a private jet earlier today to fly him to the Mariana islands.

The Marianas?

Where is that exactly?

Guam. U. S. Commonwealth.

Now it's my turn.

Muggy. Talk to me, boss.

If the doctor's plane hasn't landed yet, why don't we have a coast guard aircraft intercept it and suggest to his pilots they may be abetting a fugitive.

On it.

Nice. You can do that?

Just scratching the surface.

Yeah. Gibbs.

Can I see you?

Yeah, yeah, Duck, on my way.

Oh, you're alone.

Who were you expecting?

Her, of course.

The whole building is talking about your coast guard friend.

I'm feeling particularly alone and depressed tonight.

First, mother moves into the next world, and then last night...

You broke up with Sophie?

You noticed. Hmm.

She was so anxious to change yours truly.

I was beginning to question my own identity.

Yeah, I know how protective you are of that.

She also put some of mother's silver in the dishwasher.

Really?

Hey, Duck...

Huh?

Did you call me down here to tell me something?

Oh, yeah.

Jensen's medical records are on the way over.

But in preparing this mold, I made an interesting discovery.

Well, the guy had an overbite.

Yes, but he also has several sub-fractures on three incisors.

Broken teeth from struggling?

No, I don't think so.

I think they were self-inflicted from some kind of seizure.

I mean, take a look.

The jaw was clamped.

So tightly shut that he quite literally detached the masseter muscle from the mandible bone.

Bit right through the mouthpiece.

Which explains the pieces of rubber we found in his mouth.

I mean, in a dazed panic and unable to breathe, he rips off his mask and drowns.

Duck, why would a guy who's been diving his whole life react like that?

I also... found a history of hemochromatosis; in his case, congenital.

It's a retention of iron, to be precise.

I believe that this condition would have precluded diver training, unless, of course, someone expunged his records.

Unbelievable.

I don't know how they think they can get away with this.

Who's they?

They, you know, the ubiquitous them.

You found something in Jensen's blood?

What...? Oh, no.

Um, that's not Jensen's blood.

That's the spectrographic analysis of Caf-POW.

Or so they'd like you to think.

They changed the formula, Gibbs.

And not to improve the flavor, but to save money.

I mean, no wonder I've been a total freak.

This is like New Coke all over again.

I'm going to start a letter-writing campaign.

Do you want to help me?

Abby, you've got nothing on Jensen?

Actually, when Ducky said that Jensen had a seizure...

I reran his blood and I found exactly what I found before, which was nothing.

Jensen was using nitrox because on deep dives, it's beneficial.

But he was headed into shallow water, so why didn't he adjust?

A master diver would know that.

That's why I think there's something rotten in Denmark.

Hang on a sec, Gibbs.

I might have something sooner than later.

Boss, fishermen just found a punctured Zodiac floating not too far from where Jensen's body washed up.

It's how they got back.

Had to be.

And get this: The Coast Guard intercepted Mavrey's plane.

He wasn't on it.

Pilots were paid cash to fly an empty plane to the Marianas.

Empty?

No, decoy.

We're being played.

Where's DiNozzo?

We need to talk to bring in that doctor's wife.

Oh, hi.

Wow, nice pad.

Early American colossal.

Hello.

You must be Agent DiNozzo.

Mrs. Mavrey?

Impressive.

I got your message.

What's this about Joe chartering a plane?

I don't understand.

Yeah, yeah, one-way.

Usually not a good indication.

We have a few questions.

Of course.

So do I.

We need your help in finding him.

If I knew anything, I would tell you.

Please, I will help you in any way I can.

Uh-oh, that's not good.

Doc's having some legal trouble, huh?

Yeah.

We... we've had a rough time lately.

Joe's been upset, distracted.

But I never expected him to...

If you lie to us, you're aiding a fugitive.

I keep telling you, I don't know where he is.

Look, um, I got this e-mail over a week ago.

Joe said that he was leaving the country-- for work, and that the lawsuits would be dealt with when he got back, that things would be better for us.

Joe's a good husband and a dedicated doctor.

And I love him.

Even if he m*rder*d two people?

That's not possible.

Joe could never do that.

Okay, let's look at a few pictures.

Lieutenant Michael Jensen, U. S. navy diver.

Dead.

Martin Lime, captain of a salvage ship.

Civilian. He's also dead.

As you can see, Andrea... he's not only capable, he's actually quite good at k*lling.

Now, we need you to help us find him, or we're going to have to charge you as an accessory.

I didn't do anything wrong.

Why is this happening?

Lieutenant Jensen's medical records arrived.

As expected, the navy has no indication of any liver condition.

Records could have been falsified.

Yes, sometimes the desire to serve can override better judgment.

Right. But you don't think that happened.

No.

No, I spoke to the staff physician at the Experimental Diving Unit.

He examined Jensen dozens of times over the years.

And he saw absolutely no indicators whatsoever of hemochromatosis, whereas... this gentleman...

...shows absolutely every sign.

So this isn't Jensen.

I'm afraid not.

If this isn't lt. Jensen, then who's in Autopsy?

First question.

And the second?

Where is Lieutenant Jensen?

Got a BOLO out.

He's got a pretty good head start on us, though.

Abby finished running the John Doe's DNA.

Any hits?

Any hits?

No, and without a name to compare it to, Ducky's dental mold is useless.

Find Jensen.

We got to I. D. that body.

DiNozzo, talk to Metro.

Get a list of missing persons.

Getting a list of missing persons, boss.

Time to call the FBI.

Ziva, security footage at the marina.

I. D. everybody there. - Uh-huh.

McGee, Mavrey's personal medical records-- pull them all.

Got it, boss.

Medical records?

All right, nothing too exciting.

Elevated blood sugar level.

Got good cholesterol.

Look at this. Something interesting here.

He had epileptic seizures as a boy and has a congenital liver disorder.

You found my husband.

Where is he at? I I need to see him.

Um... well, he's, uh, he's here, Andrea.

He's...

He's been here all along.

I don't understand.

The dead body in the wet suit wasn't Jensen.

I'm very sorry.

No.

No...

No, that's not possible.

The e-mail that he sent me.

Anyone could have accessed his e-mail.

Who?

We're working on that.

The diving, the treasure-- hunting, that's just supposed to be a hobby, and now you're telling me he's dead because of it?

Let us help you.

Is there anything you haven't told us?

Mm...

Because of the... the lawsuits, Joe started... taking money out of his corporate accounts.

Cash.

A lot of it.

I think that, um, I think that he was putting it all into some ridiculous treasure hunt.

Hoping that whatever he found would pay for it all.

Well, that's risky.

Yeah, well, Joe was desperate.

So Mavrey finances the recovery of the Calafuego, hires a boat and pays Jensen to recover the gold.

It's a big payday: $200 million.

While Jensen fakes his own death, kills them, and keeps all the treasure. It is like The Sierra Madre.

Yeah, but who's Bogie?

Boss, boss, uh, Miss Biloxi, Missy Dawkins...

Yeah?

She just bought two one-way tickets to Mexico.

The first is in her name; the second is Michael Jensen.

Am I in trouble?

Depends.

On?

On whether you cooperate.

Why don't you tell us where you were supposed to meet Michael Jensen.

I can't do that.

I mean, I wasn't supposed to meet him.

He said he'd come to me.

You spoke to him?

We texted.

He said his ship had come in, and I was supposed to buy two tickets to Mexico, get packed, and be ready to go, but...

He never showed.

I knew it was too good to be true.

He was using me, huh?

You're another decoy.

You buy the ticket, we chase you, buys Jensen time.

I should have known this was never going to work.

It's not like we really had anything in common.

I mean, besides, he spent all his time with that rich doctor and his wife.

Yeah. Gibbs.

Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, I've got something.

Abbs, Abbs, can't hear you.

What? What?

What's all the noise?

The noise!

What do you got, Abbs?

Good news, Gibbs.

They decided to stick with the original formula.

So everything in my Caf-POW universe is okay again.

Congratulations. Anything else?

Okay, so I got to thinking.

Why keep a bunch of museum-quality Spanish coins in a storage unit that has no security? Stupid, right?

Unless they're not museum-quality.

Is that what you're tumbling?

Okay, in theory, we have $250, 000 worth of gold reales.

But look at this.

I added simple boric acid.

It ate away the gold plating.

Not real.

All of this stuff from Jensen's storage unit, it's worthless.

Jensen's been scamming everybody.

There's no Calafuego treasure.

He has been conning Dr. Mavrey for months, bilking him dry.

He took advantage of a desperate man.

So, then what was still worth k*lling for?

A different kind of treasure.

Thanks, Abbs.

Andrea Mavrey said she never met Jensen.

She was lying.

Jensen got into it to con the doctor, but it turned into something else-- something with Mrs. Mavrey.

The real treasure's the millions Mavrey took out of the bank.

Wait a minute. You're saying the widow and the stud diver-- they-they did it together?

Ziva, did you hear that?

Yes.

Yes, what?

Yes, I heard the wife did it, Tony.

Okay, yes, you are a genius.

Okay, question.

Where would you hide a lot of money if you were afraid your house could be seized?

Not in my house.

DiNozzo, get over to the clinic-- sweep it.

Meet you at Mavrey's.

On it, boss.

Look, Michael, the money's not in the safe or any of the cabinets.

Andrea, it is not that easy to hide $10 million.

We've gone through the whole house.

Think.

I am.

Well, we're running out of time.

You guys looking for something?

Who the hell are you?

Came to see the grieving widow.

Guess she's not grieving anymore, huh?

Well, Jensen, I knew a navy diver was too smart to drown.

Yeah. You almost had us.

Body Heat.

William Hurt, Kathleen Turner.

Hire the stud to k*ll the husband.

Didn't really work out so well, did it?

So, guys, where's the money?

I don't know.

We do.

It is amazing the things people keep in their work lockers.

Me, it's just dirty socks and a Live Aid T-shirt. Geldof signed it.

Mavrey's locker.

Yo-ho-ho.

Did you really think that Jensen there was going to take you with him?

He planned the whole thing.

He forced me. He said he'd k*ll me if... if I didn't go along.

She's lying.

You are under arrest for the murders of Joseph Mavrey and Martin Lime.

It's time to walk the plank, matey.

Arrgh.

Agent Borin, I want to thank you personally for working so proficiently with NCIS.

Thank you, Director.

Agent Gibbs?

Yeah.

Thanks.

I just got off the phone with SECNAV.

Now I know turf wars are unavoidable, but I find that cooperating with our sister agencies provides excellent results.

Don't you agree, Agent Gibbs?

Yeah, sure.

Well, hopefully, we can do it again soon.

Anytime.

You know where to find me.

Likewise.

Are you ready for the adventure of a lifetime?

It is just a movie, Tony.

How dare you.

Is Mickey just a mouse?

Ringling Brothers just a circus?

Yes.

Well, you see, that's why you don't have any friends.

I do have friends.

Really, then, what are you doing with me, watching a movie on a Friday night at work, huh?

You are my friend.

Really?

No.

My date cancelled.

Mine, too.