Transcripts - Forever Dreaming

Why is everything rusted, Grandpa?

That's what happens when junk gets old.

Well, you're not rusted.

Well, I'm not junk and I'm not old.

You look old.

You want to live to see eight? I'd just shut up, and pick something out, if I were you.

Do I really get to break anything I want?

It's your birthday.

Take a look around here, see if there's anything that catches your eye.

Oh, wow, Grandpa.

Yeah, figured that'd be just the ticket.

Come on, I got it all locked and loaded.

Let's see how these fit.

Cool.

Perfect.

There's your control panel.

Now, the most important thing about this, Tommy, is you do not tell your mother.

Okay.

What are you waiting for, some overtime? Hit it!

Does it hurt?

No. Are you sure?

Yeah, it's a car. It doesn't feel a thing.

Then why is it bleeding?

NCIS 7x22 Borderland Original Air Date on May 11, 2010

The First Amendment:

Freedom of the press, religion, assembly, petition and... Yeah, well, you go get a life, too, you little pipsqueak!

...speech!

Clearly they did not have Tony in mind when writing that.

The little rat "nexted" me!

Hi, there.

Hey, I'm Tony.

What's he doing?

Annoying me.

Besides that.

It's called random chat.

It's through a Web site that video-connects you to random strangers.

Come on! A person doesn't like who they're chatting with, they just hit next and move on.

Let me guess.

Tony keeps getting "nexted."

This I must see.

It's not funny, Ziva.

Longest I've gone is ten seconds.

Well, perhaps you're not as interesting as you think you are.

This from coming from a woman reading the Bill of Rights for entertainment- Get out of here. Back off!

I don't want you taking credit when I work it out.

Hi, ladies.

Ew! What are you, like 40?!

Why would you want to talk to complete strangers anyway?

Okay, I'm just going to have to up my game here.

What can I do?

Finger puppets or maybe a furry... barnyard animal.

I got it!

Hah!

Never fails to please.

Hi, boss.

This isn't what it looks like. Yeah?

Just out of curiosity, how exactly does this look?

It looks like we got a dead Marine.

Grab your gear.

And a little self-respect, DiNozzo.

You bring your laptop? Yeah, why?

I bet I'd last longer than ten seconds in random chat with this guy as a badrop.

Oh, Tony, you really need to stop.

Will you stop? I'm not stopping.

I stripped the car myself yesterday.

The trunk was empty.

Do you have any security cameras?

He's got tons of 'em.

But they're not hooked up to anything.

They're, uh, just for show.

What's that for?

Being brave.

And I also heard it's your birthday.

It is.

Uh, to whom do we have the misforne?

Marine Corporal Ray Collins.

Local LEOs identified him, called us.

Discarded in a junkyard like a piece of trash.

Did you know that the word "junk" originally referred to nautical old rope of uncertain origin?

Really! Yes.

I did not know that.

Eventually, it included any discarded item.

That's fascinating. No, I'll tell you what's fascinating.

Time of death, Duck?

Uh, Mr. Palmer, let's get our corporal to a more suitable work surface.

I'm guessing the k*ller dumps the body, hoping the trash compactor would eliminate the evidence.

I'm thinking mugging.

Cash and credit cards are missing.

Well, I might agree with you if that were the only thing missing.

Meet Corporal Ray Collins.

No family, single, and according to his CO, no friends.

But his fitness eval is off the charts.

Guessing that's when he had feet.

He was serving in southwestern Afghanistan until he was court-martialed.

Charges?

Everything. Larceny, drug dealing, as*ault.

Might not've ended up doing time, but he was definitely looking at a dishonorable discharge.

We were unable to trace the corporal's movements prior to his m*rder.

No credit card use.

Didn't have a cell phone.

No ATM camera walk-bys either.

But look what I found.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet the Ducati Desmosedici Double-R.

DMV records indicate that Collins bought one last month.

Added it to his Harley collection.

Ray liked motorcycles.

Motorcycles he shouldn't be able to afford on his base pay.

He was into something.

Unfortunately, with his record, there are dozens of people with motive to k*ll him.

Talk to guys in his unit.

See if you can find one that actually did.

Me?

Like right now?

Yes, you. Now.

Well, did the director say what it's about?

No, he didn't.

Can it wait like five minutes?

He wants you here now. Why five minutes?

Because I had a breakthrough in the case, and if Gibbs' Gibbsometer is working, then he should be walking through my door any second.

All I know is that he wants you right now-- I gotta go.

Do you know something I don't know?

Probably not.

Director Vance's office called and he wants to see me.

About what? I don't know.

That's just the thing.

It's a bad omen, though.

I remember last time the director wanted to see me-- do you know about the last time the director wanted to see me? No.

Okay, there's no sense in mentioning that again.

Abbs... you said you had a breakthrough?

About the case.

Right.

Work. Focus.

Okay. So, Ducky found tissue underneath our victim's fingernails.

Most likely from the k*ller.

I ran the DNA. No matches.

Doesn't sound much like a breakthrough.

Well, it's not. But it is helpful.

Because all m*llitary DNA is on file.

Just means our k*ller wasn't in the m*llitary.

It rules out Director Vance.

Abby...

Right. Work.

Okay, I heard that you were having trouble tracking Corporal Collin'' movements the night of the m*rder.

Luckily, I haven't.

Because he was wearing this.

It's a state-of-the-art GPS runner's watch.

It tracks your progress, suggests routes.

It holds GPS data for 24 hours.

I can give you a blow-by-blow.

So, Corporal Collins, he went for a jog on base, and then he went to eat, he wandered around for a bit.

And then, for some reason, spent two hours standing in the middle of the street.

That's good work.

Get the address to Tony and Ziva.

Nice job.

What the biohazardous material is this?

It's all they had.

A mini-POW!?

Ugh!

This is another bad omen.

Gibbs, this does not bode well for my future.

Abby, I wouldn't worry about it.

Why's that?

Because I got your back.

Always have had.

Always will.

I cried because I had no shoes.

Then I met a man who had no feet.

An old Persian proverb.

A reminder to appreciate what we have.

Because we can always have less.

Or how about, uh,

"Don't count your bowling balls before they're hatch, Fred."

Fred?

Uh, F-Fred Flintstone.

It's a... an unexpectedly profound series from the, uh-- Agent Gibbs!

So good of you to join us.

To join, uh, Dr. Mallard in his autopsy, that I merely assist in.

Yabba-Dabba-Doo!

What do you got, Duck?

A mess.

And a troubling one. Yes.

Dislocations across his entire skeletal system.

Likely caused by the car crusher.

That how he d*ed?

No, he bled to death.

Collins was alive when his feet were cut off?

Alive, but I doubt conscious.

He also has a mandibular fracture.

That was not caused by the car crusher.

This particular trauma is consistent with a blow to the jaw with something heavy-- like a wrench or a piece of pipe.

So, someone knocked him out, and then chopped off his feet, Sawed them off, actually.

For reasons I shall leave you to speculate.

You're right, Duck.

Troubling.

Oh, we haven't shown you the troubling part yet.

Mr. Palmer, would you, uh, turn his head.

It's some kind of welt.

Uh, to be honest, aside from being the sign of the Devil, I have no idea what it is.

Or how it came to be there.

Thank you, Mr. Secretary, you're on with Director Vance.

He said I was in trouble, didn't he?

Actually... I mean, using government bandwidth to make private voice-over IP phone calls, I know that's against regulations.

Even if it was for charity.

To help Save the Children prevent the 4 million newborn deaths every year-- 4 million! Every year!

You know what? I make no excuses.

I don't think the director wants to talk about Save the Children.

Then the infrastructure database that I loaned to Habitat for Humanity?

Uh-uh.

Okay, then that can just stay between us?

He already knows.

Huh.

So what is it?

Remember Alejandro Rivera, from the Justice Department in Mexico?

All of him.

He wants you to fly down to Mexico to speak at some law enforcement symposium their justice department is hosting. Nice!

When do I leave?

I think today.

But the director doesn't want you going alone.

Says Mexico is too dangerous these days.

So he's sending an escort.

Oh, God, as long as it's not McGee.

I mean, he's never any fun to travel with, anyways, and lately he's been acting all squirrelly ever since Alejandro tried to undress me with his eyes.

Hi.

The, uh, director wanted to see me?

Hey.

Is this it?

This is the location Abby gave us.

Right here.

By the truck?

According to Abby's coordinates...

...in the truck.

Bet Abby could last longer than ten seconds playing random chat.

You are obsessed. You wouldn't understand.

Why is that?

Because being irritating is second nature to you.

Me, I'm charming.

That's not charming.

That's a bloody table.

Tony...

Buenos dias, Señorita. Hi.

Hey, Abbs, Abbs. Slow down.

I don't want to miss anything.

Like what, the burrito bar?

Are you going to be a party pooper this entire trip, McGee? Come on.

Señor.

You know, the last time I was in Mexico, Montezuma got his revenge on me in a very, very big way.

I was sick for a month.

It's called bottled water, McGee.

Maybe this time you won't be so cheap.

You saw the text that Tony sent me.

I mean, look at that.

It's got to be a serial k*ller.

As soon as I go out of town, you know, they... Abby!

Bienvenido, Ms. Sciuto.

Hola.

Ah, so thrilled you could make it.

I trust your flight was pleasant?

Oh, it was. Boy, my...

My arms sure are tired.

Not too tired, I hope.

You're going to need them.

Uh, for what?

Uh, we have a stack of old cold cases waiting for you, and a class of eager students hoping you will share your forensic expertise with them.

Sounds like I'm going to be busy.

Sí, but not so busy, perhaps, that you will not have time for...

Let's just say busy and leave it at that.

Oh, I... I apologize.

Agent McGoo, no?

McGee.

Ah.

Unfortunately, there is only one room available at the Justice Department's guest quarters.

Well, then, we'll check into a hotel.

Yeah, I do not recommend it.

The entire reason for this symposium is the escalating v*olence from the local drug wars.

I really must insist you stay here together, however distasteful we... all may find it.

No regard for protocol.

Human remains are to be processed in the autopsy garage.

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say serial k*ller.

A limb. Nice.

Can I give you a hand?

These are terrible jokes.

You got time for jokes, do you, DiNozzo?

That mean you got our k*ller?

Uh, working on it. License plate stolen, uh, VIN's been scraped off.

No prints.

There are over 1, 000 similar registered vehicles with the Maryland DMV alone.

We'll narrow it down.

Corporal Collins was unconscious when he was dismembered.

It's safe to assume that, uh, these were, as well.

Or what's left of them.

And the rest of them?

I don't think that's soap scum.

Most likely sulfuric acid.

It is the only acid strong enough to dissolve bone.

Collins' body was dumped.

The rest of them weren't.

Why? Well, I'd have to perform a psychological autopsy to answer that question.

But I can tell you one thing.

We have the k*ller's trophies, which means, well, he'll want to k*ll again.

We need to find out who he's targeting.

Think I got a lead on that.

Autopsy Gremlin?

Scram.

These look familiar.

Motorcycle g*ng tattoos.

Same here.

Same here.

Our k*ller's targeting bikers.

Ah.

This is gonna be fun.

I've always wanted to be a teacher.

Are you going to eat throughout my entire presentation?

Mm. I read the local yogurt is amazing for your stomach.

True. Lactobacillus aids in digestion.

However, that is unpasteurized.

Well, is that bad?

In Mexico?

You might as well just sh**t yourself now.

Oh, here they come.

Hola.

Bienvenidos...

...encantado.

¿Como estás?

Buenos días.

Mucho gusto.

My name is Abby Sciuto.

I am a forensic scientist with the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.

And this is...

That was Agent McGee, who just ate some unpasteurized yogurt, and he's probably gonna go make himself throw up.

Any questions?

Okay.

Well, today's lecture is on the forensics of cold cases.

We will be working on an actual case provided by your government.

It's the gangland hit of a drug trafficker, almost 20 years old.

Doesn't get much colder than that.

Any questions?

Yes.

Who told you the Day of the Dead was in May?

Your name is...?

Let me guess. Natalia.

You can read.

I can read.

I can also tell that you have cats.

Anyone could tell I have a cat.

One orange tabby and two calicos.

You're allergic to citrus.

You went bowling last night.

You're Vitamin D deficient.

Oh, and you're ovulating.

Any more questions?

Great. Back to the case.

Which, because of some very shoddy police work, has almost no forensic evidence.

So I hope you brought your walking shoes,

'cause we are going in the field.

This is the last biker bar we're hitting today.

I'm starting to smell like monkey grease.

Somehow I think you won't mind this one.

Hello kitty. Meow.

Wow. Want to take this, or should I?

'Cause I kind of got a feeling that... Mm...

You know what? I got it. I got it.

Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention, please.

Hi. Whatever.

I'm, uh, Special Agent Tony DiNozzo.

This is my partner.

We'd like to ask you some questions.

We're looking for information about this guy, Corporal Ray Collins.

He was m*rder*d, and he's... he's a very...

I've lost my mojo.

It's like random chat, only in the real world.

Perhaps it needs a woman's touch, so...

Not unless that woman's got a warrant.

You got a warrant?

No.

We would like to ask a few questions.

You know what I would like?

You to leave.

Look, people.

There is a serial k*ller on the loose.

He's targeting bikers.

Does that interest you?

Only thing that interests me is you... leaving now.

We're leaving now.

Okay.

Sorry about that.

Putting on a little show for the kiddies, huh?

If I wanted to stay in business, yeah.

Velvet Road.

Oh. Tony.

Let's keep this quick.

Yes. So any information on Corporal Collins?

Not much, but I have seen that guy around.

I don't know who he runs with, but I know who he's been sleeping with.

Who's he been sleeping with? Everyone.

He probably slept with the wrong guy's girl.

Well, he's not the only one who's dead.

I'm not surprised.

I know some riders so jealous, you just look at their girl wrong, they'll k*ll you.

You got any names?

I got a whole bunch.

There are many ways by which a cold case can be solved.

Anyone?

Agent McGee...

Well, uh, new witnesses can step forward.

Alibis can fall through, or new information can come to light.

This new information usually comes from forensic evidence.

Which we're going to have to find on our own, because this case has virtually none.

What we know is this:

20 years ago, a traficante de drogos-- a drug dealer named Pedro Hernandez- he left a cafe, he got in his vehicle to go home, and he was gunned down at point-blank range in a g*ng-style sh**ting.

His vehicle was abandoned after the incident, so that's where we're gonna start.

Lesson number one.

Beware shoddy police work.

For example, this fracture pattern.

It tells me that the b*llet that shattered the glass was traveling at an unusually high velocity, which means...?

Agent McGee?

Some kind of long-range w*apon.

Which also means this police report is wrong.

He was not sh*t point-blank.

Are we expecting more students?

I don't think those are students.

You're trespassing.

This is public property.

We were just leaving.

Actually, no.

You're not.

Line up.

All of you.

It's probably a good time to start praying, too.

Uh, can we just slow down here for a second?

Sorry, I have lunch plans.

Would it help you to know that I am a guest of your government?

Abby... What?

Okay.

Maybe I won't k*ll you.

Maybe I take you hostage instead.

See how much you're worth.

My name is Timothy McGee.

I'm a United States federal agent.

I'm worth a lot to them, okay?

Now, you just let them go, you can keep me.

You're a brave man, Timothy McGee.

Do you know who I am?

No.

My name is Paloma Reynosa.

"Reynosa." As in...?

Reynosa drug cartel.

At least, that's what you would call it.

I prefer to think of it as the family business.

We're screwed.
What's an NCIS agent doing so far from home?

He's my escort.

I'm teaching a class on the forensics of cold cases.

And this truck... it's your classroom?

We're using the m*rder of a man named Pedro Hernandez as a case study.

Old Pedro?

That was a long time ago.

What could you possibly learn now?

Well, for example, the police report-- it's wrong.

He wasn't sh*t point-blank.

You are correct.

He was k*lled by a sn*per, hiding on a ridge, almost a thousand meters from here.

How do you know that?

Beuse the k*ller left behind a message on that ridge.

What message?

Perhaps you will have more use for it than I.

I'll see what I can do.

Love youshoes.

Vamanos!

Thanks.

Jealousy can sure drive people to do strange things.

As can anything born of deep-rooted insecurity.

If I chopped the feet off of every guy that gave Breena two looks...

I would be up to my ears in toe cheese.

What's that? Toe cheese.

Oh, right.

I hope you got something for me more than toe cheese, Duck.

Yes, well, we certainly have a lot of it.

Times like these I regret not having a window.

Although we are saved from the more insidious odors by the fact that all these feet have all been salted.

k*ller preserving his trophies.

Which explains the mobile drying rack.

It's a good way of preventing the odors from alerting the neighbors.

Makes it more difficult to determine a time of death.

Difficult but not impossible.

Salt preservation retards bacterial growth but not insect activity.

I was able to work out a rough timeline.

Uh, this one... was the first one cut off.

Roughly two months ago.

Good work.

However, unlike Corporal Collins, all of these victims were already dead before their feet were removed.

Vascular inflammation suggests that their deaths were caused by some kind of poison.

Abby will determine just what kind.

Serial K*llers usually don't change their MO.

Not after so many successful kills, no.

So, who do you think she was?

Well, I told you already.

Paloma Reynosa-- head of the Reynosa drug cartel.

She took over after her husband d*ed.

No, I mean who do you think she was to our cold case victim?

Probably somebody pretty important, considering she's been carrying around that b*llet all this time.

Really don't know much about her.

Got a bad feeling about this case.

Yeah, I got a bad feeling about this bed.

You want to flip for the couch?

Come on, McGee.

It's not like we haven't shared a bed together before.

Well, technically, that was a coffin.

And I'm just letting you know, that if you and I sleep in this bed together, I am a Quasimodo for a week.

Now I know why Ziva took the couch in Paris.

Tony said that he took the couch in Paris.

Hmm.

Why do you think la policía didn't investigate this case further?

Well, he was a drug dealer.

And crimes like that-- a dime a dozen down here. Maybe.

Maybe not.

I think I'm developing my own gut.

Yeah, I was going to mention to you, you look like you've put on a few pounds lately.

Come on. I'm kidding. I'm kidding.

All right, that was silly.

I'm sorry.

Look, you look great. I mean, I actually noticed that you really look great lately.

Actually.

Um... Where are you going?

I'm going to sleep on my lab table.

Oh, come on. I said I was sorry.

Oh... and you don't know how much.

What is that supposed to mean?

You forgot to use bottled water on your toothbrush.

This is not a room I want to sleep in tonight.

Hi!

Hey, baby. I'm the kind of man that can rock your world.

Come meet the super freak.

I'm like a friendly dolphin.

Oh! Come on!

You're pathetic.

I've tried everything. Really.

No matter what I do, I can't get past ten seconds.

Well, maybe you should try something like working.

We are looking for a serial k*ller, Tony.

I already earned my pay today.

Really?

What did you find?

No way.

I tell you, you tell Gibbs- I got nothing.

Look, I'm not going to steal your discovery.

Okay? I have my own.

Really? What do you got?

No way.

If I tell you, you tell Gibbs.

Gibbs is gonna find out anyway.

Come on. Let's see it.

Uh, well, our jealous biker theory was a dead end; all our names had alibis.

We flashed Collins' picture at every motorcycle club in the city.

Got the same story from everyone.

People saw him around. Yes, he comes and goes.

He never stays at one place for a long time.

And I think I know why.

Ray Collins, you're our serial k*ller.

On a hunch, I, uh, e-mailed his photo to several different sulfuric acid suppliers.

And bingo.

One of them recognized him.

Said that Corporal Collins bought a hundred gallons two months ago.

Circumstantial, Alice.

Well, circum-- yeah, but...

Who's gonna have a picture of the guy drive the foot mo...

...bile.

You got a picture of the guy driving the foot mobile? Yes.

Making an illegal right turn on red.

I also had a hunch.

Got a timeline match? Yes.

The killings started just after Corporal Collins returned from Afghanistan.

That's nice work.

Both of you.

Be even nicer if you could figure out who k*lled Collins.

Oh, my God.

Abby...

Good morning.

I just heard what happened yesterday and came immediately to see how you were doing.

I just heard what Oh, I'm okay. happened yesterday Oh, I wish you would have told me your plans, so I could've said "no."

So do I.

The Reynosa drug cartel is having distribution problems at the moment.

It's very dangerous to go into their territory.

Though it appears your expedition provided some fruit.

Maybe.

As far as cold cases go, this one's frigid.

Oh, looks pretty warm to me.

"Lapua"?

It's a favorite of sn*pers, is it not?

I wouldn't draw any conclusions.

It's also popular with competitive sh**t and, apparently, as jewelry.

Something is bothering you.

Whose idea was it for me to come down here?

Was it yours or was it Director Vance's?

Well, your director simply approved.

Oh, the idea was all mine.

Who assigned me this case?

Well, I don't know exactly.

Uh, someone on my staff.

Why?

How well do you know your staff?

Does this have something to do with your cold case?

You solved it?

No. Not yet.

But if I'm going to...

I need you to exhume the body of Pedro Hernandez.

Oh, that could be arranged.

And I need it sent back to my people in DC.

They're the only ones I trust.

And we certainly wouldn't want to convict the wrong person.

No, of course not.

The "ody of a drug dealer from 20 years ago--

I don't think anyone will mind.

For you, I will make the arrangements.

Ah!

Hola, McTaco.

How was Mexico? Did you bring anything back for me?

An exhumed corpse, 20 years old.

Like I wasn't sick enough already.

Where's Abby?

Uh, she's already in the lab, checking the DNA on your victims.

Since I heard we're not the only ones with an unsolved case.

We solved the serial killings.

What? Oh, yeah.

You would've loved it.

Marine corporal poisoned his victims and then he cut off their feet- bloody stumps.

Then he would take their bodies and put them in a vat of acid.

Yeah, and they would become these viscous, gooey, molten, fleshy, bowls of...

Of course, we still don't know who k*lled our k*ller.

Well, maybe it's, uh, it was for revenge.

Maybe it's one of the victim's family members?

Yeah. It's Gibbs.

Or a copycat k*ller.

Corporal Collins' body was mutilated just like his victims.

I'm on my way, Duck. Not much in Corporal Collins' background was actually helpful.

Go back over it.

Oh, we already went over it, boss.

Go back over it.

But we're going to go over it again.

Wanted to see me, Duck?

I do hope that's not another victim I haven't heard about.

A victim, yes, but not our case.

I'm helping Abby with one of hers.

It's a cold case from her Mexican symposium.

Ah...

Meet Pedro.

Remarkably well-preserved for a 20-year-old corpse.

Pedro, huh?

I believe so. Mr. Palmer? Uh, yep.

Pedro Hernandez.

Yeah, apparently, a sn*per gunned him down outside a small town in Mexico.

The b*llet that k*lled him ricocheted inside his skull... inside his skull... inside his skull...

Abby thinks she might be able to trace the b*llet, but.. it's pretty old.

Abby, huh?

Yes, however, I didn't call you down here to discuss ancient history.

I've finished my psychological profile of our dead serial k*ller.

Although, I personally do not believe he was a serial k*ller.

Don't get me wrong, Jethro.

I don't doubt that Corporal Collins committed those murders, but he shows none of the psychopathology that normally motivates a serial k*ller.

Yeah, what motivated him?

I don't know.

And until we know that, we know nothing.

Aha!

Yeah.

I think I have it.

Ha-ha...

Jethro, if, uh, you would be so kind?

Mr. Palmer, would you run this up to Abby?

I got it, Duck. I got it.

Oh, thank you, Jethro.

Gibbs.

Got one more computer to network to the search.

Hey, boss. I just want to let you know I am up to speed on this case.

McGee is helping me run the DNA from the serial k*ller's victims.

I got one more I.D. to make, and, uh, over here, program the computer to search for any similarities between the victims.

Is that another tissue sample?

No.

Okay, so, um, I identified the poison that the serial k*ller used to k*ll his victims.

It's a snake venom-derived neurotoxin.

It causes the rapid degeneration of the victim's synaptic nerves, and then their death.

The snake itself is very rare- the Asian sand-viper.

Found exclusively in southwest Afghanistan, which was...

That's where Collins was stationed.

The amounts he would've needed easily could've gotten past m*llitary customs.

We got a ding.

Pardon me.

Okay... all victims were members of a motorcycle g*ng. Knew that.

All have various criminal records. Figured that.

Oh, no, there is one, and only one, crime that they all have in common.

Our serial k*ller's targeting drug dealers.

Yeah, well, the problem is Ducky doesn't think Collins was a serial k*ller.

He's cutting off people's feet.

Who does that other than serial K*llers?

I know who. Drug cartels.

Well, by definition, wouldn't they be selling dr*gs and not feet?

Well, they do. That's what the recent v*olence in Mexico's been about: controlling distribution.

Yeah... k*lling off your competition.

Exactly.

I mean, the cartels hire freelancers to do their hits, and the way that the hit men prove how many they've k*lled is with the severed feet of their victims.

Corporal Collins is not k*lling for fun.

No, he was k*lling for hire.

Then who k*lled him?

That's easy.

Whose drug dealers was he taking out?

Gonna have to send you on field trips more often, Probie.

Though I am glad you're back.

Thanks, Tony.

It's nice to have someone to talk to for more than ten seconds at a time.

Yeah, um... about that.

All right, I programmed your browser to auto-next you out of video chats every ten seconds.

That wasn't nice.

Why would you do something like that?

I don't know. Why would you create a fake online profile last year and make me fall in love with a girl that doesn't exist?

Can I get back to you on that?

You gonna tell me why I'm here?

I got ten dead bodies, all with one thing in common.

Oh, yeah? What's that?

You.

Sit down.

According to the DEA, they sold dr*gs for you.

Allegedly.

At least until Corporal Collins started k*lling them.

And that's why you k*lled him.

Doesn't look familiar.

How about that? That look familiar?

Very nice ring you're wearing.

Any chance that there's still some of Collins' DNA in that?

Because I know we've got some of yours from underneath his fingernails.

VELVET ROAD You've got this wrong.

Collins tried to k*ll me.

Tried to poison me with some kind of snake venom.

You don't look poisoned.

'Cause I'm immune.

These aren't just for show.

I own two pythons and a cobra. I've been bit more times than I can count.

Two nights ago, I come home, have a drink.

And the next thing I knew, I wake up in some truck.

Collins was there.

Clocked him pretty good with a pipe.

Didn't mean to k*ll him. It was an accident.

Was cutting off his feet an accident, too?

He was k*lling my dealers.

I had motive to take him out. Who'd believe that it was self-defense? I just tried to make it look like he was another serial k*ller victim.

Who hired him to take out your dealers?

I don't know. They weren't local.

Who hired him?!

I think it was the Reynosa Cartel.

They're everywhere now.

Hi, Gibbs.

Hey, Abbs.

Can I come in?

Yeah. You're already in.

Right.

Okay.

It was nice talking to you.

Abbs...

Why are you here?

You know why I'm here.

I matched the b*llet in Pedro Hernandez' head to your sn*per r*fle.

You k*lled him.

In cold blood.

I mean, I know what he did, Gibbs.

He... He k*lled your wife and your daughter.

But, Gibbs...

I know.

Gibbs doesn't do things like that.

Or-Or-Or does he?

Now I don't know.

I don't know anything.

The only thing that I do know is that I didn't find this out by accident.

Rule 40.

"If it seems like someone is out to get you, they are."

Just...

You have no idea how much I wished it was yesterday.

Maybe if I could just close my eyes and open them again, it will be.

Do you realize the situation that I'm in now?

Yeah, I know. I mean, do you understand the choice that I have to make now? I know.

Stop saying, "I know."

What do you want me to say?

Tell me that I'm wrong.

Tell me that I made a mistake with the ballistics or...

No.

No, I can't say that.

Then... tell me how much I've been like a daughter to you... and how much you love me.

Will that help?

No.

What I really need to know, Gibbs... is if you're going to love me, no matter what.