(upbeat pop song playing on car radio)
MAN: God, I feel like all that we've seen is snow for the last few months.
Well, it had to melt sooner or later.
Hey, look.
Aren't those trees just, like, gorgeous?
Oh, yeah, amazing.
Did you know they don't get Wi-Fi up here?
Scott, stop being a jerk.
And, come on, the whole point of this trip was to get away from this... technology overload. Right.
Granola therapy...
It's called "green therapy, " idiot.
And you agreed to it weeks ago.
Oh, come on, Scott.
Look, it's a beautiful day.
Just... take in the nature with me, all right? Jane!
(tires screech)
Whoa!
You almost splattered nature all over the windshield.
Come on.
What? Jane!
Let's go, Scott. I want a picture.
Wow. She's beautiful.
Yeah, well, she's wearing a coat; I'm not.
Can we please go back to the car? It's freezing.
Shh.
JANE: (gasps) Oh, my God.
She's looking at us.
That's because we look really stupid right now.
Scott...
Oh, my God.
Hm... mm...
Huh.
(sniffing)
McGee, tampering with someone else's mail is a federal offense, is it not?
I believe it is, Ziva.
And we are federal agents.
McGEE: So it'd seem it's our duty would be to arrest him.
How do you know it's not mine?
Because it's addressed to Gibbs.
Eagle eye, McGee.
What else do you see?
Tony, why are you trying to look at Gibbs' mail?
Oh, come on. Isn't it obvious?
The raised calligraphy, the paper that's made from a fabric more expensive than Timmy's shirt.
Sorry.
He got the same wedding invitation last week.
How would you know that? I saw it.
Same fancy paper, same fancy handwriting.
Well, someone's being persistent.
Who would want to invite Gibbs to their wedding?
Yeah. Guy's got worse wedding juju than Billy Bob Thornton, and Larry King combined.
ZIVA: You are overreacting.
I, for one, would not mind having Gibbs there when I get married.
Hypothetically!
I mean, you know, When I... someday... you know, if I...
It is not important.
Clearly.
So what does your "Ray of sunshine" think?
We have not discussed it. I see.
Raymondo... plays his cards close to the vest?
Raymondo and I have not discussed the future.
We are taking it... slow. Hm.
Think that's a very smart idea, Ziva.
Thank you very much, McGee.
Now you're taking love advice from Agent Hot Britches there?
Man who makes Belgravian princesses swoon and hot blonde gamers overload?
How's that going, by the way?
How about you, Tony?
(playful laugh)
Seems like your libido has been very satisfied lately.
Are you taking it slow... with anyone?
Nothing a cold shower in the agents' locker room wouldn't cure.
GIBBS: More information than I want to know.
Grab your gear.
Where to, boss?
Dead Navy lieutenant commander outside of Shenandoah.
Come on! Let's go.
Beautiful spring day.
Not as nice as June, of course.
June's perfect for all kinds of events, weddings...
DUCKY: Yes, Henry David Thoreau said that spring was "a natural resurrection, expression of immortality."
Well, Ducky, I think Lieutenant Commander Patrick Casey would beg to differ with you.
(Jimmy laughs)
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Hon, where did you say we're going to dinner?
"Oh, hon..." the commander cares little about your evening plans, Mr. Palmer.
Uh, y-yeah, Breena? Breena, I got to go.
JIMMY: Yeah, have fun aspirating the bile.
I am so sorry.
Um, she likes to have someone to talk to while she's... embalming.
Think you should marry that girl, Palmer.
McGEE: Boss, found an I.D. For Commander Casey.
Defense lntelligence Agency.
Secret-keepers, huh?
Yeah. Cash and, uh, credit cards are accounted for, so it wasn't a robbery.
Okay, Duck. Time of death, approximately 11:00 p.m.
Multiple g*nsh*t wounds.
And this one suggests hollow-point rounds, though I won't know for certain until I get him back to Autopsy.
Got an exit?
Uh, Agent McGee, would you help Mr. Palmer roll the body, please?
Here we go...
I don't see any.
That's odd.
I mean, what goes in, should come out.
Or not.
ZIVA: Gibbs, I believe the commander crawled, trying to make it to the road.
ZIVA: I found a blood trail.
From where? TONY: Boss!
Should take a look at this.
TONY: Commander Casey left a message.
"Birdsong"?
ZIVA: Looks like it's written in his own blood.
What does "Birdsong" mean?
(over speaker): I wish I could help you, Agent Gibbs, but it could take weeks for the Defense lntelligence Agency to pour over Lieutenant Commander Casey's assignments to determine what can and cannot be released.
Are you familiar with something called "Birdsong, " Admiral?
(clears throat)
The commander, he that wrote that in his own blood before he d*ed.
Nothing comes to mind.
Well, come on. It's got to mean something.
Look, Casey was a good man and a hell of an officer, but we had limited interaction, and I couldn't possibly know every detail of his involvement.
DIA pulls people from different parts of the service.
Determined by expertise, on a case-by-case basis.
This man's dead.
You think his "expertise" was related?
I wish I knew.
You said you wanted to help.
Of course.
I'm ready when you are.
What are you suggesting, Agent Gibbs?
I don't know, sir.
You're the one with all those "I was there" ribbons.
(Admiral clears this throat)
You'll be in touch?
TONY: Boss, Metro PD found Casey's car abandoned outside a restaurant.
Unlocked, keys on the ground, cell phone smashed.
Looks like he was jumped.
Have McGee dig into Casey.
And find me "Birdsong."
Cellular communication, text messaging, squeaking...
It's "tweeting, " Doctor. Huh?
Like the little yellow canary and the puddy tat.
I used to love that cartoon when I was a kid.
These distractions feed the ever-growing beast known as instant gratification.
I promise it will never happen again.
I'm going to call Breena immediately and let her know that our chats have been getting...
No! No?
Well, yes, no... you're completely missing the point.
If you keep in constant contact with your lover, she will get to know you too well.
Hmm...
I don't follow.
You lose... the thrill of discovery, the mystery of not knowing.
Secrets, if handled properly, can be extremely alluring.
Ah, Jethro, I was just telling Mr. Palmer the benefits of self-restraint.
Just tell me what you got, Duck.
Well, I've determined the type of rounds used to k*ll the lieutenant commander.
He was sh*t six times with frangible amm*nit*on.
Each b*llet was made of sintered copper, designed to disintegrate into powder and fragments upon impact.
The dispersal of these accounts for the extensive damage beneath the dermis.
And as there was no residue on his clothing to indicate that the sh**t was close...
We're looking for a w*apon... that fires frangible a*mo at a distance.
It's rare, Duck.
Yeah, anything more specific will have to come from Abby.
I already brought some fragments up to her.
DUCKY: Whatever her findings, it's an odd choice of w*apon.
I mean, either the k*ller was unfamiliar with the weaponry or, well, maybe he wanted this poor fellow to suffer great pain.
Or both.
ZIVA: Lieutenant Commander Patrick Casey.
Born in Pensacola, Florida.
His parents were career Navy.
Both are now deceased; Patrick followed in their footsteps.
DIA kept him... traveling, but unfortunately, his destinations remain classified.
You lose something, DiNozzo?
No, boss.
Did you find something?
(laughing): No...
Oh, about the... uh, yeah, kind of.
The waiter at the restaurant where Casey's car was found said that he dined with a woman.
Uh, wasn't a date, though.
They shook hands at the end of the meal.
Then she left. Casey stayed until just before closing.
The waiter's working with the sketch artist now.
Tim, talk to me.
Boss, I am knee-deep in the DIA servers here.
Listen to this: Three days ago, the department's general counsel got their hands on a manuscript they had heard of.
Potential leak of classified m*llitary information.
Yeah, and? The title of the manuscript was "Operation Birdsong."
Somebody looking to publish it?
Capitol Crossroads Press.
It's a boutique publishing house run by Madeleine DuMont.
Book like this could really take her little imprint to the next level.
What's the connection to the case?
Nothing yet.
But there's only one way to find out.
Find the publisher, McGee... Ms. DuMont.
Well, why me?
You're the writer, right?
(Tony clicks his tongue)
Tony. Ziva.
You're in the women's shower, fully clothed, and... you are holding Gibbs's mail.
What's your point?
That letter is not for you to read. I know.
But there's so many questions to be answered.
The happiest day in someone's life, and they need Leroy Jethro Gibbs there to seal the deal?
Doesn't make any sense.
All right, so be honest.
Surely, you would want Gibbs there at your wedding.
Well, I don't know if a head slap coming down the aisle is the ideal Kodak moment.
Maybe you're right.
Okay, so, I have a question.
Have you seen Agent Barrett?
No.
Why do you keep asking about her?
I have only asked you once.
Hm. Why here?
(laughs) You mean, in the shower?
Because I have seen her here, I guess.
She intrigues me.
Does she intrigue you?
Well...
I can't really...
Hmm. She must be assembling her team.
I wonder when she's due back. Me, too.
Pardon me?
I should stop this.
You should stop... what, exactly?
This. Everyone deserves their privacy.
Even Leroy Jethro Gibbs. (chuckles)
See you.
Have we met?
Um, no, no, never.
Absolutely not. I rarely forget a face.
And there are some very interesting ones in the book world.
Yours is... memorable.
I am not in the book world, Ms. DuMont.
You run out of words, McGee?
Come on. You're a writer.
Find some.
Who is this?
Another agent?
Another "special agent."
Gibbs. Delightful.
More Feds.
Who knew I'd be a thr*at to national security.
We're not the first federal agents you've seen?
I've had half a dozen DIA agents in and out of my office for days.
What'd the DIA want?
What the government does best:
Meddle in the affairs of small businesses.
They confiscated a manuscript we're about to publish.
All hard copies and digital files.
The title of this book wouldn't happen to be Operation Birdsong?
The very same.
They even sent an admiral, if you can believe that.
Hindley. Awful man.
Said it was for reasons he couldn't disclose.
What's it about?
Weapons sales. Corruption.
Intrigue.
A lot of unfortunate people involved.
You should read it.
Who's the author?
An anonymous former intelligence operative.
That's all I told Hindley, and that's all I'm telling you.
The freedom to write anonymously is protected by the First Amendment. Yeah.
I know about the First Amendment, McGee.
If you want me to disclose the author's name, you're going to have to prove to a judge that the book really does pose a thr*at to national security.
Hindley wasn't exactly eager to share its contents, even with a judge. And... since you don't have a copy...
No. No words.
Just a picture.
McGEE: Ms. DuMont, this book may be related to a m*rder we're investigating.
His name is Lieutenant Commander Patrick Casey.
You know him?
Yes.
He was one of two people sent an advance copy; Author's request.
Who's the other one?
(car doors shut)
Read a book, die mysteriously.
I'm not buying it.
Only happens with cursed videotapes, you know,
like in that movie The Ring or the original... Ringu.
Okay. Thank you, McGee.
So McGee just called Elise Archer's office at the FBI.
She did not go to work today, and she's not picking up her phone.
Playing hooky, huh?
I would never do that.
Agent Archer! NCIS!
Elise Archer?
Tony...
Elise Archer was an expert in anti-domestic terrorism stings.
Set up phony weapons buys for homegrown extremists; Made the arrest before anyone was put in any real danger.
She was a good agent.
Great baker.
You should have had her baklava.
Duck... talk to me.
This nylon rope used to strangle Agent Archer was the same that was used to bind Lieutenant Commander Casey's hands.
Murders are related. DUCKY: Probably.
And Agent Archer was k*lled after the lieutenant commander.
Cause of death was almost certainly asphyxiation, based on this particular hemorrhaging, and the ligature marks on her neck.
But... FORNELL: But...
I hate that "but."
There are no defensive wounds.
Now, with a strangulation, one would expect her to wrestle with her attacker; Fight to save her life.
And yet... here... nothing.
It's almost as if she just gave up.
FORNELL: That doesn't sound like Archer.
She was a fighter.
She worked hard to get where she was.
DIA?
She was loaned out... a few months last year.
Covert ops.
Above my pay-grade. Boss, Archer does match the sketch of the woman who had dinner with Casey last night.
And I also found this.
The husband works as a paramedic for a DC-based ambulance company.
Been on a 14-hour shift since last night.
Ziva's tracking him down.
I never met him.
She always said nice things.
Hey.
You get an invitation to Diane's wedding?
Yeah.
I got three. Three?
Woman always was persistent.
Tobias, she was a pain in the butt.
You going? Are you?
Hey, boss, someone set a fire in here recently.
Could be the remnants of our book.
Bag it, McGee.
Get it to Abby.
You really think this is the reason for both murders?
I don't know; we have to read it first.
You know, Jethro... if it weren't for Diane... we wouldn't have the kind of relationship that... we have.
Tobias, you've always been a glass-half-full kind of guy.
Never have to pay alimony again.
MAN: I can't believe Elise is gone.
She, uh... she was always worried about me... you know.
Said I was the one with the dangerous job.
Rocketing through the DC streets in the middle of the night, the junkies wielding syringes.
She was just a paper-pusher at the Bureau.
Or at least that's what she told me.
She... she couldn't talk about her work much.
And I didn't ask too many questions.
Who did this to her?
FORNELL: Mr. Archer, there's been another m*rder besides your wife, and we think that the two might be connected by a book they were reading.
A book?
GIBBS: Operation Birdsong.
That was on Elise's nightstand.
She'd been reading it the past couple days.
Said it was about a weapons deal or something.
How does a stupid book get my wife k*lled?
Hold this, will you?
Thought you were going to buy me a nice lunch.
(sighs) What?
Nothing.
I'm just thinking about the day I married Diane.
Why?
Stirred up memories. (laughing): Yeah... well...
Bad ones. Not really.
Our heads were in the clouds.
We were giddy kids. We were in love.
Oh, you probably had the flu. Oh, come on, Jethro.
Before it got bad, there must have been some good times.
She caught her finger in a car door once.
Hey, Abbs!
Got your book.
Oh. Great.
You know it's supposed to be b*rned after reading, not before.
I'm having flashbacks of high-school English class.
Fahrenheit 451.
Which had the unintended consequences of igniting my interest in arson science.
No pun intended. Abby.
Um, okay.
I ran the frangible a*mo that Ducky pulled from Lieutenant Commander Casey through every weapons database that I could access.
And...? And...
Nothing. But that's not possible.
And I know that that's not possible.
So I said to myself, "Self, why would the w*apon used not be in any weapons database?"
And you know what self said?
Because it's a prototype.
Precisely. I give you... the Flint SCR.
Manufactured by Praeger lndustries, and developed for the DOD.
They ended up pulling funding after significant flaws were found in the design.
Under-penetration of the a*mo was the most noteworthy.
What happened to the g*n after the money was pulled?
I wish I could tell you.
But the rest of Praeger's records... they're classified by the DIA.
A lot of that going around, lately That's good work.
Hit the books.
You mean the ashes.
McGee.
Do hope you have something.
Big-time, boss.
Madeleine DuMont just called.
She finally recognize you?
She heard Elise Archer's dead.
She's afraid she's next.
Publisher. Got a reason to be concerned.
Well, offer her the safe house. Get her over here.
Boss, it's too late.
She took a plane to Argentina.
She panicked.
She's got friends there.
Thought it was a good idea.
Can't protect her in Buenos Aires.
It's her decision.
Who else has read this book?
Got it.
You know anybody in Argentina?
I want that author.
(on phone): Hello?
Ms. DuMont, I need that author's name... now.
Marine First Lieutenant Sam Keeler, recently discharged.
Did you write a book... Operation Birdsong?
Maybe.
Certainly picked the right publisher.
She sang like a canary.
She promised me anonymity.
Yeah, well, she probably saved your life.
Who were you hiding from?
Hey, you know what, Keeler?
You can leave. I don't care.
Ms. DuMont called me after DIA confiscated the manuscript.
Now, look, I don't follow.
How does NCIS fit in?
FBI, as well.
It's an alphabet party.
Where were you last night?
Where I've been the past week... keeping my head down.
Staying with friends.
Right where your agents tracked my cell phone.
Look, what's going on?
Is this about my book?
Yeah.
Have you read it?
No.
But they have.
Operation Birdsong.
What was it?
(sighs)
The three of us were part of a joint anti-terrorism task force.
Patrick and Elise worked point.
I was undercover.
We were assigned to Cyprus.
The farmers there, they'd blast recordings of bird songs at night to lure them into large nets.
That's what we were doing.
Only we weren't going after birds.
We were trying to catch t*rror1st groups.
That why Archer was brought into it?
We'd take the groups down by staging the sale of black market weapons.
Used a prototype the DOD rejected.
The Flint.
Casey, Archer.
You think my book got them k*lled?
I don't think. I know.
Look, I was just trying to do the right thing.
And they thought I was, too.
Are you a whistle-blower, Keeler?
Read it yourself.
I still have an original on a hard drive.
Where? Hidden.
In a storage locker.
Safe.
Well, you thought you were safe, right?
We found you.
TONY: Yeah, boss?
Hey. We found the book.
McGEE: Diane... what number wife was she?
I think Diane was number two.
She's three. Or is she four?
She was the redhead.
They're all redheads.
This is why I'm getting married only once.
I think McHefner here goes at least two rounds.
Maybe three. Uh...
I am sure McGee will find the right woman, unlike some people.
Nothing wrong with playing the field, David.
(laughs) That depends on which field you're playing, Tony.
McGEE: Keeler said he was locker 37.
That's got to be around here.
Yeah. Isn't that the admiral?
ZIVA: Must be DIA.
Hey, excuse me, guys.
(alarm bell ringing)
(groaning)
(door closes)
You booby-trap your own locker?
No.
Archer and Casey are dead.
Three DIA agents are in the hospital.
What's in the book?
This is my fault... I told DuMont to send the manuscript to Patrick and Elise.
I just wanted their approval.
You were discharged early, after Birdsong.
Why?
I always wanted to be a Marine.
And not just a good one.
The best.
I followed orders, toed the line.
No questions asked.
Okay, what changed that?
Birdsong.
How?
Our orders were to target specific arms dealers in the region. Local jihadists.
Turns out the entire op was a massive waste of money and resources.
How?
They messed up!
Sit down.
Who messed up?
Somebody near the top.
Over 500 Flint r*fles went missing... gone.
I was the field op, so the axe fell on me.
A few weeks later, Casey sent me some intelligence reports from units stationed in Afghanistan.
Insurgents were using our weapons to wipe out entire villages.
Innocent people... women and children.
You know what the brass said?
"Accidents happen."
I may not be able to serve my country as a Marine anymore.
But that doesn't mean I can't serve it.
Writing that book?
That was my duty.
Anything? No.
ABBY: Yes. Yes. No, no.
Go back, McGee.
Tony, you're hogging all the end pieces.
That's because I start with the end pieces.
Haven't you ever done a puzzle before?
You go out to in.
Have you ever done a puzzle before?
Because you work in to out.
Will you guys stop? We're trying to read here.
Why would she invite two ex-husbands?
(laughing): Oh, here he goes.
Tony, you have already learned who sent out the invitation.
Can you not just leave it at that?
I mean, how would you like it if I knew all your secrets?
I don't have any secrets. I'm an open book.
Just give me the CliffsNotes.
Once at summer camp, there were these twins named Marcy and Lois.
(sultry laugh)
It's a long story.
Abby.
Um, okay, fortunately, Keeler's hard drive was insulated in a loaded footlocker.
Unfortunately, it's still a little fried.
Um, here's what I've man... what we... have managed to put together.
So far, it supports everything Keeler has told you... the task force, Cyprus, arms dealers... all of it.
Nothing new?
Well, these are the arms dealers targeted by the task force.
Small fish in a big pond, just like Keeler said.
ABBY: On the surface, it seems harmless.
Or as harmless as an arms dealer can be.
But as a whole, there's a pattern here, and it's a pattern that Keeler didn't even see.
As each one of these dealers were eliminated, their business had to move elsewhere.
So we've been tracking t*rror1st chat in and out of Cyprus.
Okay. And get this.
In the last year, almost all of the weapons trafficking has been swallowed up by one arms dealer.
A dealer named Jinn.
No one's ever seen Jinn.
That's a supernatural being from Arab folklore.
Like a... a genie.
So you're saying that this Jinn profited from Operation Birdsong?
Big time.
Abbs, you find anything in the book about who's running this show?
I got something here, boss.
"As pressure mounted, he would nervously clear his throat, choking on his own guilt."
Fully recovered, Admiral?
Special Agent Gibbs.
Bringing me flowers?
Are you Jinn?
(clears throat)
I don't know what you're talking about.
Who's he?
Fornell. FBI.
The more the merrier.
FORNELL: Sir, I took the liberty of perusing your bank accounts.
It's not bad on a government salary.
What are you insinuating?
I also pulled your cell phone records.
You received a text message from a burn phone last night, guiding you to Keeler's storage locker.
Somebody sent you into a trap.
Your buddy Jinn tying up loose ends?
Jinn paid you for those g*ns.
All you had to do was cash his check.
Blackmail?
Or you just that greedy?
Now, you don't have to say anything.
I know I wouldn't.
I'll bet you didn't count on Jinn trying to cover tracks, though.
Burn the book.
Take out everyone involved.
Even you.
Where's Jinn? Local?
It's all done via computer.
But I can tell you where she is.
She?!
This is who the admiral was afraid of?
A college coed?
Mark Zuckerberg created a social network.
Why can't Alexis Ross organize a $100 million arms trade from her college dorm room?
Hmm. Well, according to Keeler, he never knew who brokered the sale.
Hmm.
She's sort of a combo platter
of Reese Witherspoon from Legally Blonde and Russell Crowe from The lnsider.
She's dangerous.
And kind of cute.
Oh, come on, Tony.
She sells weapons.
From her dorm room.
With a minor in phys ed, maybe.
(wry laugh)
So... how long will this take?
I have an econ paper due tomorrow, and the prof doesn't give extensions.
One hour ago, my people picked up a small-time hood named Charles LeBaron. 40 minutes later, he confessed to planting expl*sives in a self-storage facility after you paid him to do it.
On your computer, we found names, locations, and routing numbers for known t*rrorists.
How did a sweet little thing like you get wrapped up in all this?
GIBBS: Evidence points to you.
You b*llet-proof, Jinn?
(scoffs)
(sighs)
Did she just sigh at Gibbs?
(laughs)
Yes, she did.
You might want to play back my confusion later, Special Agent Gibbs.
Your accusations sound a little crazy.
You want crazy?! Crazy is a college kid sitting in her dorm room with posters on the wall and her music blaring, making money off of weapons that k*ll innocent people.
Question:
If that were true, how is that different from government types who put weapons in the hands of private contractors, the mujahideen and the Somalis?
You think I'm some messed-up teenager grasping for a cause?
Yeah, I think those pretty pink nails are plenty dirty.
Sorry.
I'm just a sweet little thing.
Remember?
These two murders will put you away for life.
Go for it.
Try to connect the dots.
I've been studying for days, and I certainly didn't k*ll anyone.
She's got to be the one.
I mean, maybe she didn't do it with her own hands, but she planned it, she paid for it.
Nope. Definitely not our Miss Poison Ivy League.
Whoa. It's like Lisbeth Salander meets scary Katy Perry.
GIBBS: Abbs?
She's not the k*ller, Gibbs.
She's not our k*ller.
I scrubbed through every byte of her computer.
She's been a very bad girl.
She may be an arms dealer and may have blown up the storage locker, but she only got a digital copy of Lieutenant Keeler's book from Hindley yesterday.
Casey and Archer were already dead.
The bad girl couldn't have known the book was a thr*at.
ZIVA: So if the arms deals are not the reason for the murders, then what is?
I think that's probably the same cinnamon roll that's been here ever since I first started.
It's looking pretty good to me right now.
First one in, last one out.
Oorah.
So, I read your book.
I got a copy of it off of Alexis's computer.
I almost read the whole thing before I realized I missed the most important part... dedication page.
"For E.A., with love and thanks for the happiest days of my life."
I got this off your hard drive.
Why didn't you tell us you had an affair with Elise Archer?
It didn't seem right.
Respectful now that she's gone.
You know, I got this for her.
It's made from sea glass.
When we returned to the States, she gave it back.
I understood.
You know, she had her life, a husband.
I just thought maybe if I waited long enough...
Now I'll never know.
(phone ringing)
Yeah, it's Gibbs.
(Abby speaking over phone)
Yeah, Abbs.
ABBY: Come to my lab.
Yeah, I'll be right down.
You knew enough to love her, Lieutenant.
That's all that matters.
Abbs.
It's "sux, " Gibbs!
What sucks?
No, it doesn't suck.
It, it's... it is "sux"... S-U-X.
I had to run three different blood samples through mass spec to find it.
I found minute traces of succinylmonocholine in Agent Archer's blood.
That's a byproduct of the muscle relaxant suxanmenthonium chloride, AKA sux.
It just, it breaks down really easily in the blood.
That's why I missed it the first two times.
Okay, so...?
So, the dose that Agent Archer was given was so strong that she was temporarily paralyzed.
That's why Ducky didn't find any defensive wounds.
It's not that she didn't fight back. She couldn't fight back.
Which definitely sucks.
Where does someone get something like this?
Okay, here's the kicker.
There's so many undesirable side effects that it's relegated to only one specialty.
Emergency medicine.
(siren wailing)
DERRICK: Hello?
You take us to the wrong address, J?
Nope. Man in distress.
Says this is it.
That's me; I'm in distress.
Or maybe I'm just hungry.
I don't know.
It's hard to tell.
I don't understand. What are you guys doing here?
We're here to see you, Derrick.
Archer, what's this about?
Nothing, Jonny. Nothing.
FORNELL: I disagree.
Did you tell your partner to take some time, few nights ago... spend a couple hours with his girl, off the clock?
He said no one would know.
Yeah.
Jon, go get a coffee.
You asked us why the book got your wife k*lled, but you already knew.
Took the copy right off her nightstand.
What was that dedication again?
"For E.A., with love and thanks.
For the happiest days of my life."
Derrick Archer, you're under arrest for m*rder.
(Derrick grunting)
(groaning)
I gave her a chance to come clean.
But she denied it, said it was just a coincidence.
She lied to me, just like she was always lying to me, about the job, about the traveling...
So you followed her.
You saw she was having dinner with Patrick Casey.
We picked up your ambulance on a traffic cam, half a block away.
Same time they were eating.
He got what he deserved... and so did she.
Yeah, well, you got the wrong guy, because Casey didn't write the book, and he didn't have an affair with your wife.
They were just tracking down some missing g*ns.
Elise found one, brought it home.
A r*fle. One of a kind.
My agents just found it in your garage with your prints all over it.
You want a tip?
You got a problem with your wife, get a divorce.
Why are you two just sitting there?
We're waiting.
Waiting for what?
To see what happens.
To see what happens to whom?
TONY: Tonight's the big night, Ziva.
The moment of truth, the dawn before the big day.
Does Gibbs, the Grim Reaper of Love, show up at the rehearsal dinner of his ex-wife of no?
It's none of your business, DiNozzo.
(chuckling)
You headed out, boss?
Yeah. Got a couple things to do.
Toasts are my specialty.
If you need me.
Okay. You've got it, boss.
Of course.
He's going.
(door opens, shuts)
Hey, we're already an hour late.
You're not even dressed.
You're not going.
I was never going.
(sighs heavily)
Who the hell am I trying to kid?
I don't want to go, either.
Eh.
She'll understand. (laughs)
Yeah, right. Like hell.
Good point.
You know who the new guy is?
(laughing): Homeland Security.
She'll never learn.
So what now?
All dressed up, nowhere to go.
You just going to keep working? Yup.
Till the pizza comes.
Pepperoni and onions?
Mm-hmm.
(doorbell rings)
It's on me.
Hey, Gibbs...
I just gave away the bride.
You have a beautiful daughter, Tobias.
Break out the mason jars.
I'll drink to that.
Amen.