11x09 - Gut Check

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "NCIS". Aired: September 2003 to present.*
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The cases of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.
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11x09 - Gut Check

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The Zumwalt-class destroyer.

Demanding the best from the Navy and the companies constructing her.

You four represent the next wave of U.S. defense companies who will improve the lives of our m*llitary personnel by keeping them safer and better equipping them to defend us.

Gentlemen, together... we are the future of the United States Navy.

Madam Secretary Porter, why is my logo smaller than Marc's?

Beringer Marine laid down a million tons of raw steel this year.

United Equinox made a tiny screw.

Correction, we made a teeny, tiny screw that could withstand a 1, 200 degree temperature swing.

And we made a crap-ton of them.

Is this another dramatic touch, McGee?

Not exactly, Madam Secretary.

Network security detected an unauthorized electronic transmission.

Everything shuts down automatically.

Does that mean someone's trying to hack in from the outside?

No. Lockdown only happens if the att*ck's internal.

The thr*at's in this room.

NCIS Season 11 Episode 09 Gut Check

I just reread Moonraker.

Spent the whole day reading on Sunday.

Don't remember the last time that happened.

You read a lot?

You know, I went out for a drink last night, and I met a girl.

Great smile, great body. Guess what she does for a living.

I'm thinking about getting a sex change, Norma.

You say something, Agent DiNozzo?

I'm just trying to make conversation.

With me?

Yeah.

I wasn't listening.

Start over.

Really?

So, I guess it turns out that I'm dating a tennis pro.

Want to know how she gave me her number?

Boop! Left it on her pillow.

Hello...

That's nice.

That's it?

What do you want?

A little something.

Just a jibe, a scoff, a little stink-eye, you know?

I just... I need something. The riff, the patter...

You got a stink-eye in there. I can see it.

Listen, I just need the "pah".

Where's Agent McGee?

The burden shouldn't always fall on Tim.

He's suffered enough.

What about Agent Gibbs?

Hey, Boss, dating a tennis pro.

That's nice. Let's go.

See?

We got a body?

It's a breach.

We're not driving.

Where we going?

Upstairs.

What's happening, Leon?

In secure mode, MTAC sensors constantly scan for electronic signals.

Anything other than our equipment emits a radio frequency, room goes on lockdown.

Nobody's allowed to leave till we find the source.

Like a surveillance device, a bug.

Right.

Does this happen a lot?

No.

Not the brightest idea to bring one into a secure room.

That's why they're gonna check you twice, Marc.

Save it, Ward. Not exactly the time.

All clear.

I've scanned every square inch, Boss.

Seats, walls, computer console... no sign of any illicit devices.

False alarm? Software glitch?

Possible.

Does that mean we're free to let our valued corporate partners go, Director?

You can take us off lockdown, fellas.

Gentlemen, please.

Another malfunction?

I thought you searched everyone.

I didn't think you wanted me to pat down the United States Secretary of the Navy, sir.

Now, I do now.

Raise your arms, please, ma'am.

Just remember, I have mouths to feed. Two goldfish.

I'm their only source of income, and they're awfully cute.

Relax, DiNozzo. I'm as anxious about this as you are.

I'm gonna have to search your pockets, ma'am.

Do you have any needles or sharp objects? I have to ask.

No. Proceed.

A pen?

You had me worried for a moment, gentlemen.

The hell's that?

Well, first impression, it's a flash drive connected to a pinhole microphone.

We got our bug.

I'm the breach.

Let's clear the air right now.

I have no idea when or where I got that pen.

Could have been a doctor's office, bank, restaurant.

The last time I remember using it was when I signed a permission slip for my daughter yesterday morning.

I must have put the pen in my pocket after that, but I had no idea it was recording me.

You believe that?

Yes.

Why?

Respect. For you and the office.

And until there's evidence to the contrary, you'll get the benefit of the doubt, Madam Secretary.

Thank you, Agent Gibbs.

Job now is finding who's responsible before anything leaks.

I had classified briefings at three D.O.D. off-site locations yesterday, and we talked enough deployment strategy to cause serious security problems for the sailors and Marines I work for.

Understand, they are my only concern in this, Agent Gibbs.

Abby's got the spy pen, Boss.

Based on the battery size and the length of the charge left, we think it's been recording for about 30 hours or so.

Can we track who's listening?

It's not a live feed.

The bug stores the data internally, which means whoever planted it has to download the info.

Which we have to assume they've already done.

I will alert the Pentagon that my meetings yesterday were compromised.

And we should bring in the NSA.

I just put in a request for info.

They got ears open for the sale of U.S. intel.

Make sure it doesn't get that far.

You zig, I zag, Boss.

While I was on the horn with NSA, I pulled a thr*at analysis report.

They put this together in the last ten minutes?

No. The paper's two years old.

But it predicts our breach exactly.

"Clandestine recording device,

"high-level government official,

"an everyday item such as an ink pen."

Coincidence?

We need to talk to the person who wrote this paper.

I thought we were gonna get a cavity search coming in.

Interesting.

Look at that.

We better not tell McGee about the Star Trek video game chairs.

It'll just irritate him.

It's like an Apple Store.

You must be NCIS.

Welcome to the National Security Operations Center.

I'm NSA Special Agent Chad Flynderling.

Call me Flynn.

Like Jeff Bridges in Tron?

That's original.

Sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sensitive to NSA's public perception right now.

We're not just a bunch of reclusive data nerds.

Our employees are as diverse as the work that we do here.

And I swear, if I have to hear another cr*ck about the Star Trek chairs...

Look at those. Didn't even notice them.

I reviewed the thr*at report you called about.

You write it?

No, but I can assist you with anything you might need.

We asked for the original author.

Make it so, Number One.

What's the problem?

Well...

About those reclusive data freaks I was talking about...

So how long does this go on?

Yeah, just wait for it.

I give you NSA Analyst Ellie Bishop.

She prefers to do her unclassified research in here.

I thought we discussed rule number one.

When my earbuds are in, flash the desk light.

Couldn't help it.

It's good to meet you.

Sorry, I was in the middle of... stuff.

Yup. That's my work. What's up?

You didn't even look at it.

I wrote it my third day at the NSA.

It was a Wednesday morning. I just finished a box of Cocoa Pebbles.

I remember that because it was the prize inside the box that inspired the entire paper.

Let me guess. A pen?

An everyday object hiding in plain sight. It clicked.

So you got 25 pages of national security strategy from inside a breakfast cereal?

In order to prepare for att*cks, I dream up threats that haven't happened yet.

This dream came true.

So I was right.

Secretary of the Navy was bugged.

Security intel is at risk.

Which is bad. But I submit my reports to my superiors, who then distribute them accordingly.

Anyone with basic security clearance could have access.

Did you give this paper to anybody else?

Are you asking if I'm in on it or something?

No, I-I'm not, I...

I wrote the playbook, but I have no idea who's running it.

Sorry. Hope you find your guy.

It was nice to meet you.

Like I said, she's not a field agent.

I can still hear you, Jeff Daniels.

Jeff Daniels wasn't in Tron. That was Jeff Bridges.

Flynn, you are a fan.

Yeah, Duck?

Yep, we're on our way back.

We have got a second pen.

So I guess this means I'm riding with you guys.

No, but she is.

What? Why?

What? Why?

'Cause, like you said, you wrote the playbook, right?

What are we doing here?

I'm waiting for Ducky, our M.E.

"Medical examiner."

This isn't my first case.

I meant, what am I doing here?

I analyze big-picture data, present detailed strategies in the global w*r on terror.

Chess moves that can take years to implement.

You enjoy playing board games?

Look, everything I can offer you is in that report.

What good can I do in person?

I don't know, but you can start by catching up on the case file.

Well, then, can you tell me how long?

Of course I can hold on.

I don't suppose you're from the FBI and you've come to tell me that all this is a misunderstanding?

Sorry, NSA. My name...

That is totally irrelevant.

I was just talking to the man ten minutes ago.

The D.C. M.E. is dodging my calls.

I thought this was about another bug, not a body.

Both.

Thanks to our BOLO, the M.E. found a second pen when he went back through this man's personal effects.

He's Claude Sherman, accountant for United Equinox Electronics.

He worked for one of the companies in MTAC this morning.

m*rder?

No, natural causes.

Myocardial infarction two days ago.

What's he doing here?

Body and personal effects travel together in order to preserve the chain of evidence.

Like I said, this is not my first case.

Stop.

Ducky, where's the pen?

It's missing.

That's why I've been on the phone all morning.

Yeah, according to the M.E.'s office, an FBI agent collected the personal effects just before the transfer at 0915.

The problem is, when I called to confirm, the FBI doesn't know anything about it.

Somebody posing as an agent.

Yes.

Leaving us a body and more questions.

Who stole the pen?

Was it the same person who planted it on SECNAV?

What's the connection?

I'm sorry...

What was your name again?

Bishop.

You got something?

Yeah, uh, maybe.

You got any food around here?

Anything?

We'll find stuff. Come on.

Pentagon refuses to release any of the minutes from SECNAV's briefings.

Once the intel leaks, the whole world will know.

It's what I told them, except all they could say was topics of discussion included Russia, China, Syria and Iran.

That narrows it down.

That her? She fall down?

Don't let the chaos fool you. This is just... how I work.

All right, Jeff Goldblum, guy plants a bug on SECNAV, uploads the data. What's he do with it?

Go Did you read my paper?

Some... some of it, but I...

Time is a factor here, and I...

Is that a wedding ring? Are you married?

I'll have my report to you by tonight, okay?

Report?

Tonight?

Wait, let's back the truck up.

How old are you?

I thought time was a factor around here.

Isn't talking about my personal life a waste of it?

The way I see it, our guy has three options.

One: he releases the information in the name of full disclosure.

Which he would have already done.

Two: he sells the data to the enemy.

Except he had no way of knowing what kind of intel the bug would record.

Needs to find the right buyer.

Which takes time.

Leaving us with option three: he sells the information back to us.

Extortion.

Yeah, wait, that... that was just a guess.

We need to alert the SECNAV's office he might be calling.

He just did.

Extortion?

Clock's already started.

12:30 p.m., SECNAV's office was contacted via an encrypted e-mail.

We have one hour to deposit $10 million into an offshore account or he leaks the intel.

Can we track the communication?

No, who's ever behind this knows their way around computer code and knows how to hide.

Any chance of catching this guy before the deadline?

They get better if we just pay him.

Give the man what he wants.

We don't like giving t*rrorists anything, much less taxpayer money.

Neither do I, but like I told my boss, it's the cost of doing business.

If we deposit the money into the account and he accesses it, it gives us something to trace.

It's all outlined in my paper.

Would that be the same paper our spy could be using as a paint-by-numbers?

He'll know that's our strategy.

He would have guessed it anyway, which makes it our NSA codes against his.

And statistically, the odds are in our favor.

It's our best way of finding him. Statistics don't lie.

Yeah, but our bad guy might...

Lie?

About what?

We don't know anything about him or what he wants.

He wants... money, right?

Unless he hasn't shown his full hand.

Keep digging till we find it.

That doesn't... doesn't make sense.

Sometimes you got to go with your gut.

Sure, but gut logic aside, I think we can all agree here that actual logic is better.

We're about to find out.

SECNAV just approved Bishop's game plan.

Gave NSA the lead on the money-drop.

Porter wants to have a word with us.

Good.

The same kind of surveillance device was found on my corporate accountant.

I didn't plant a bug on your employee, and I sure as hell didn't plant a bug on the Secretary of the Navy!

You got stones accusing me of treason.

There's no sense pointing fingers.

Quit playing the patriot.

I am a patriot. My company's been serving this m*llitary for four generations.

We're not some startup w*r profiteer.

That's enough.

I understand you're concerned about corporate secrets being leaked.

Even if nothing leaks, word of this would k*ll me on Wall Street.

We're talking hundreds of millions.

We are following up on the device found on your employee, Marc, but give us time to do our jobs.

I can assure you both that our best agents are working on this around the clock.

Isn't that right, Agent Gibbs?

I'm pretty sure you just took us off the clock, ma'am.

Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me for a moment.

I'm getting hit on all sides with this...

Pentagon, White House.

Last thing anybody needs is another intel scandal, and NSA is prepared for this kind of thr*at.

So are we, Madam Secretary.

And I want you to keep up the good work, Leon.

I'm not benching you, I'm just adding more players to the game.

Different players have different strengths.

Yes, and as head coach, I have the lineup just the way I want it, Director.

Is that understood?

Everybody's looking at a female SECNAV with no m*llitary background, wondering if either one of those things are gonna be a factor.

I'd like to answer them by setting this right.

And to do that, I need all the help I can get.

Especially yours.

Oh, God.

Stupid pen, give me answers.

How long have you been standing there?

Just a few minutes.

I thought you knew.

No.

But you were talking to me.

No, I was talking to myself and a... pen.

But now I'm not talking anymore,

'cause who knows who's listening?

Who do you think's listening?

No, don't believe everything you hear. I mean, we don't randomly listen to conversations and phone calls.

I'm serious.

We need a court order just like you.

We've had a few bad apples, but we're good people out to uphold the law and make a difference.

So you haven't bugged my phone?

Look, I can prove I'm here to help.

I drew this using D.C. examiner's description of our bogus FBI agent fed it into the NSA database, and got a hit Rudolph Stalin.

Rudolph Stalin is an American citizen with a history of international espionage and strong political ties to Russia.

And a very nice mustache.

I wonder if it's supposed to be ironic.

He's been on our radar for a year.

And he is an American citizen.

Which is exactly why we needed a court order.

I remember reading his file a few months ago over a bowl of cream of mushroom soup.

I food-associate.

I'm just still stuck on the fact that you can draw.

I mean, this isn't Kate good, but it's good good.

Who's Kate?

That would take a few hours and a whole box of tissues.

Then we should get this BOLO out first, and I wanted to check up on the NSA operation.
Hey, Gibbs, did you know that Bishop can draw?

Yeah, she's still here. Why?

What? Is it about the money-drop?

Maybe we should have that talk about Kate.

Manager heard the sh*ts, called the police. Nobody saw the sh**t.

NSA deposited the extortion money, and our spy accessed it using the coffee shop's Wi-Fi.

Not the first place I'd come to collect $10 million.

Agent Flynderling thought the same thing.

That's why he came to follow up before calling in a task force.

Three g*nsh*t wounds to the chest at close range.

Based on the stippling and tissue damage, he never had a chance.

Barely got out of his car.

Ambushed.

Boss, he's got something in his pocket.

Hey, boss, isn't this her...

My report.

You were right, Agent Gibbs.

It's not about that, Bishop.

Somebody plants a surveillance device on the Secretary of the Navy, and extorts the U.S. Government.

Likely the same guy who posed as an FBI agent to steal a second spy pen from the D.C. morgue.

Rudolph Stalin.

He's an American wanted for selling U.S. intel to Russia.

With a name and a mustache like that, I'm shocked.

But when the NSA tried to pay him off and track the deposit...

He m*rder*d NSA Agent Flynderling and got away with the money.

Actually, I just checked the offshore account.

The extortion money's still there.

He left behind ten million bucks.

Doesn't make any sense.

Could've panicked after the sh**ting.

Maybe he's not as professional as we thought.

Or maybe it's not about Uncle Sam's money in the first place.

What else does Stalin get by luring and k*lling a federal agent?

Authentication. Proof to another buyer that his intel is genuine.

Somebody willing to pay more than ten.

So he used us?

This guy was playing chess, and I never even saw it.

I know what I have to do.

Reset.

I'll start over.

I'll get it this time. I just need some time to clear the chessboard.

Take a break.

Go get a soda.

There's no time, and I have no cash.

Take it.

Yeah, Abs?

Can you come to my lab?

Michelangelo, Shakespeare, da Vinci, Hemingway.

You can count me amongst their ranks.

I do every day. What do you got?

A masterpiece.

Well, it looks like a date and time stamp.

Sometimes the greatest works of art are simple.

You got into the pen?

No. I failed.

The internal memory chip was too well encrypted.

Then what is this?

That is the last day and time the chip was accessed by the Wi-Fi transmitter.

That the send-y part?

So, I can't tell you what our bad guy downloaded from the pen, but, because of the send-y part, I can tell you when he did it.

Yesterday. 7:23 p.m.

And assuming that SECNAV still had the pen in her pocket, I cross-referenced her schedule.

Porter was at a restaurant having dinner with her teenage daughter when Stalin was downloading.

How close would he have to be?

Close.

It's a small pen, small antenna.

So I pulled street surveillance footage from near the restaurant, and found Stalin sitting in his car, committing high treason.

I guess having eyes and ears everywhere can be helpful.

But don't tell Bishop I said that.

License plate.

Already added to the BOLO.

Our chances of finding this guy just skyrocketed.

That's really great work.

I'm sorry for your loss.

The agent who was k*lled, was he a friend of yours?

More like an older brother.

Everything okay?

It's tough not being able to talk to my family about what I do.

You should've seen my mom when I told her I was taking a job outside of Oklahoma.

Why did you?

That's the difference between Mom and Dad.

His first rule is: comfort makes for complicity.

Means the only way to grow is by challenging yourself.

It helps to remember why we do the job.

Keeps us going.

Actually, I should get back to NSA.

You're not getting off that easy.

Gibbs likes rules, too. Number 45: always clean up your mess.

How?

For starters, the BOLO came back on Rudolph Stalin.

We know where he is.

Come on. Time's a-wastin'.

Okay, thanks.

Metro PD says Stalin's car is still parked in a lot out front.

They're not sure which theater he's in, but there are only two screens.

Where do I go? I aced my weapons and field training.

You got a g*n, Ado Annie?

I left it in my surrey with the fringe on top.

Don't quote Oklahoma to me.

Stay in the car.

You bet.

Him.

That's him!

Federal agent!

Stop, stop, stop!

Bishop, why'd you hit him with the car?

Technically, he ran into the car.

Got to say, that was a gut move. Gut's good, right?

We intentionally flushed the guy out.

Gibbs had the exit covered the whole time.

What?

She pulled a Palmer on this guy, Boss.

At least he'll go quietly.

I'm not saying anything without a lawyer.

You hit me with a car.


I thought he was getting away.

I read in his file that he was a high school track star.

I remember almost everything I read.

Which includes more than a few interrogation transcripts.

Meaning what?

I have an idea.

Hang on. These.

I need to borrow this. Thank you.

Now, a major principle of an interrogation is to let the suspect draw their own conclusions, right? Which means, as long as I never say I'm his lawyer, as long as he never asks...

Stop.

I can keep up.

Did that guy see you before you hit him?

Look, we called the public defender...

Finally. Are you my...

Sorry for the outfit. Today was supposed to be my day off. Ellie Bishop.

Have you ask him questions?

Legally, we can ask as many questions as we want.

Up to him to talk without a lawyer.

That's true.

Do you want to talk?

Shouldn't we speak somewhere in private first? Or...

It's up to you. I've read the file, they do have a pretty solid m*rder case.

m*rder?

Yeah!

Of a federal agent.

No way. I didn't k*ll anybody.

They know about the pen on the Secretary of the Navy.

They know you were at the restaurant, and they know about the $10 million.

You can help yourself, though. If you cop to the m*rder, might reduce sentencing.

I didn't k*ll anybody!

You sh*t a federal agent three times in the chest!

Take it down a peg. He said he didn't k*ll anybody, okay?

Let's hear him out.

Then you make it fast.

I did not extort the government, and I did not k*ll this agent.

But I know who did.

Name.

Edward Gracy. He's sold me info before.

Corporate stuff at tech secrets.

First time he's offered government intel.

So you're admitting to treason. We supposed to believe this?

I don't know if I believe him at all.

Need an address to prove it.

Here you go.

What about my deal?

Take that up with your lawyer.

You said you were my lawyer.

No, I didn't. Gave you my card.

Is that gonna hold up in court?

I don't know. I'm not a lawyer, either.

All right, got confirmation on a downtown office, rent in the name Edward Gracy.

I alerted Metro PD, and they're on standby.

Getting used to your pace here.

Well, then you're gonna need this.

Has this been used?

Yes, sir.

Of course.

Yes, right away.

What's the matter?

Problem with Metro?

It was my boss at NSA.

They need me back at HQ to debrief immediately.

Got to go.

Federal agents!

Nobody's home.

What do you think? We being played again?

Check the desk.

Nothing here but junk mail, back issues of GSM.

They're all addressed here to Edward Gracy.

This is our master chess player?

Boss, I got something back here.

Well, this is definitely where Gracy makes his bugs, and apparently raises awareness about heart disease, as well.

Charity mailers?

Our k*ller has a conscience?

Nope.

His targets do.

Shipping receipt for a mailer sent to Sarah Porter.

SECNAV.

He's sending them with the brochures.

Junk mail free gifts.

Instead of return-address labels, you get a super spy pen?

It's a big risk with no guarantee it's gonna make it past your junk drawer, let alone MTAC.

This is full of receipts. He sends them out like clockwork.

These are all from the same post office.

What the hell are you doing here?

Okay, I can explain.

I kept digging into the name Edward Gracy.

I just... I couldn't help myself.

Get back in your car.

Okay, but wait. The name Gracy is an alias, and I found an open credit card with weekly purchases... at this post office, okay?

I came here to follow up.

Gracy's P.O. box is inside the store.

I know! So is he.

It's what I'm trying to tell you.

You're on a stakeout.

Go!

What, did you read a book on disarming bad guys?

Three older brothers. Quit squirming!

I think we'll find this w*apon's a match to the one that k*lled Flynn.

I'll take it from here.

You got it?

All right.

Here we go, big guy.

What?

We were both right.

And we got him.

You're still missing the point, Bishop.

Got a hit on the fingerprint.

Real name is Thaddeus Knox.

Multiple arrests for corporate espionage.

Now we can add treason and m*rder.

It doesn't make any sense.

What now, Russell Crowe?

Hasn't your mind gotten you in enough trouble today?

I don't quit until I get it right, and our corporate pretty boy just doesn't fit into the big picture.

We've never seen him, NSA or NCIS.

He's a first-timer.

Exactly.

But if he sends bugs to tech employees looking for corporate secrets, why make the jump to SECNAV and a crime that carries out a life sentence?

Something made him leave his comfort zone.

It's not about ideology or power, it's... it's about challenging himself, proving that he can do the job.

Who's he trying to impress?

His boss.

Don't tell me those crazy papers are finally paying off.

I have staff lists from the corporations in MTAC this morning.

Bugs have been sent to employees of every company except one.

The same company that's paying Gracy.

Beringer Marine.

What do they have against SECNAV?

You here for the update?

What's going on?

Hell if I know.

Madam Secretary's cut me out of the loop.

I couldn't help but notice the tension between you two earlier.

You know, I don't mind taking orders.

I'd prefer they come from fellow Marines, or someone who's served.

I hear you.

A civilian giving orders that affects thousands of m*llitary personnel pisses me off more than you know.

Few months back, I was on the short list for the SECNAV appointment.

I was honored, but didn't feel right about it.

Why?

You seem qualified.

Maybe.

But I haven't served in uniform.

And I have too much respect for those who have.

Like you.

It's not right for Porter to pretend she knows what they need.

She should've done the right thing, like I did, and declined the position.

But...

I guess she'll have to now.

What is this?

A bug at the NSA.

Who would've thought?

You turn on me, Marine?

The only turncoat here is you, Ward.

By hiring one of your corporate spies to embarrass me, you put the entire country at risk.

I had nothing to do with that. I only want to protect this country and the people defending it.

I may not have served, but I know about duty and sacrifice.

Takes more than a uniform to make a team.

Tony and McGee said you'd still be here.

I am.

Sorry to bother you so late.

Never say you're sorry.

It is a sign of weakness.

I thought that was the point.

Especially after today.

But I think I've finally figured something out.

You always got to have the right answer, don't you, Bishop?

Unfortunately.

But if you'll let me finish, I can explain why that's wrong.

I work hard.

And when I fall, I get right back up.

I'm smart, and I want to make a difference.

And I can.

Been so busy looking at... the chessboard on my own, I forgot to be a part of it.

I wasn't a team player.

That's what I wanted to say.

That's it. Good night.

Good luck.

Never mind.

You forgot something.

That's not mine.

It's got your name on it.

This is my NCIS application from years ago.

Before I took the job at NSA. How did you know about this?

Your name sounded familiar, I went back and looked it up.

That's why you brought me along today.

You play chess, too.

I wanted to see if you were still up for a challenge.

Why?

I'd like to keep you around.

Joint duty assignment.

What?
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