12x11 - 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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12x11 - Check

Post by bunniefuu »

(music playing over radio)

You're late. And we're dying.

Oh, someone sh**t me.

Girls' night again last night?

What was it this time? Let me guess.

(inhales deeply)

Ugh. Vermouth.

Mm.

You know, that stuff's not supposed to be guzzled-- it's an apéritif.

A what?

An apéritif.

Alcoholic beverage served before the meal to stimulate the appetite.

Pretty fancy talk for a guy carrying a box of stolen pickles.

These are not stolen.

The distributor over-ordered, my cousin did some, uh, creative inventory management.

Pickle thief cousin is going to get you into trouble.

They're just pickles.

Tell me how some pickles are gonna get me in trouble. (gasps)

(gasps)

My God.

♪ NCIS 12x11 ♪
"Check"
Original Air Date on January 6, 2015

♪ ♪

(elevator bell dings)

Morning.

Oh, morning. Morning.

See any good cat videos lately? (giggles)

Did I miss something?

No, just making small talk.

Ah.

Hey, is that a new shirt?

It's really white.

No. I actually made a New Year's resolution to separate my whites from my col...

(Tony chuckles)

You looking for this?

"New Year's Resolutions" by Tim McGee?

You went into my desk?

Look at that. "Number four, lock my desk."

You've already failed.

All right, give me that.

Who makes a New Year's resolution to stop watching cat videos?

A lonely federal agent who may be in need of a cat.

What are your New Year's resolutions, huh?

You got to see mine. Show me yours.

He stopped drinking coffee.

Tony: No, I did not.

Although that would be a good one.

What? No, no, not you. Agent Gibbs.

What? Gibbs doesn't make New Year's resolutions.

It's not a resolution. I overheard him talking to Dr. Mallard.

Gibbs is going in for a checkup and his doctor told him to avoid caffeine for 72 hours.

Mm-mm, that seems... unwise.

That could k*ll him. Or worse.

T-The guy-guy's scary enough when he's properly medicated.

Can't imagine what he'll be like with caffeine withdrawal.

Can only imagine someone taking away King Kong's bananas.

(light chuckle)

I'm not going to turn around.

Good idea.

That's a good analogy, Jim.

Thank you.

It wasn't the greatest, boss.

Got five bodies.

Let's go.

(camera shutter clicking)

Bishop: This is... (sirens chirping outside) a lot of dead bodies.

What do you think happened?

You tell me.

Uh...

Looks like they all sh*t each other.

Some kind of Mexican standoff.

Ducky: Interestingly enough, that term is of Australian origin.

At least, according to the Cambridge Advanced Learner's Dictionary.

Though it's unattributed, so I have my doubts.

Bishop: Mm, good to know.

Where should we start?

Right here. The captain.

Bishop: Captain Sharon Hanover, 43.

A desk jockey at the Pentagon who apparently also likes to get into gunfights?

Let's get some bags.

McGEE: Boss, spoke with the owner.

None of the bodies are employees.

Did he recognize anybody?

No, but he's acting a little squirrelly.

Man: I don't know nothing.

Yeah, you said that.

So we're done here?

No.

Every time you say you don't know nothing, it makes me think you know something.

Yeah, it's a real pickle.

Alice.

There something you want to tell us?

No.

If you don't tell him about the pickles, I will.

What's the deal with the pickles?

Officer: No, ma'am, you can't walk up through here.

I just have to go inside.

No, no, no, no, no, no. You see the yellow line? You can't cross the yellow line.

What are you gonna to do, arrest me?

I'll be right back.

Ooh. Hold the pickle.

And you have no idea who I am, you overgrown, armed Smurf.

I need to see agent Gibbs and I need to see him now.

You're gonna have to wait.

Diane: All right, Officer 9-60, thank you very much, Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Mr. Wilson. What's going on?

You know this woman?

My ex-wife.

Woman: Hello, J.

And that one?

Also... my ex-wife.

Aw, look at him. He didn't know whether to run or wet himself. I like it.

Fear is sexy.

You two know each other?

(whispers): Heads up. Lady Octopus sighting.

Diane: Well, he's not running.

Hope he has a clean pair of underwear.

He didn't wear underwear when we were married.

I'm... gonna go someplace else.

Diane: Works for me.

What's she doing here?

And who is she with?

Tony (whispers): Number two.

That's wife number two.

We have a visual confirmation.

Diane: Well, Jethro, you gonna say anything or did your tongue finally shrivel up and die?

You two know each other?

What, are you and Tobias the only two exes that get to be friends?

We met at an emotional dwarf support group.

(chuckles) That's a good one, I like that.

(giggles): Thanks.

What are you doing here?

I brought her. You two need to talk.

And we all know that's not something you're interested in.

Got that right.

So I suggested that we...

Ambush me at a crime scene so I can't get away?

Get back to work.

Sorry, boss, we-we were just taking these cases back to...

Your final resting place?

There's a thing up there.

I can't talk right now.

Then I'll wait.

Gibbs: That's not gonna work.

Okay, okay, let's compromise.

We'll got back to NCIS and meet you there once you're done here.

Do I have a choice?

Well, that depends-- how do you feel about spending the next six months being audited?

By me.

Tony: Victim number one, Staff Sergeant Samson Delgado.

Teaches combat training at Quantico.

Likes pumping iron, hiking, and pumping iron.

Victim number two--

Chief Petty Officer Beau Lordin.

Just got back from Afghanistan, where he received a commendation for saving two locals from a land mine.

Tony: Yeesh.

Uh, you weren't supposed to see that, boss.

But, uh, now that you did, we were just wondering...

Tony: Wife number two-- she's the one you caught in bed with the other guy?

I wasn't wondering that.

Uh, me, neither.

It was just me, then.

Moving on.

All five victims have stellar records.

Nothing to indicate any criminal activity.

Anything in common?

Uh, yes, they all failed to report for duty last week.

There's something else, boss, but I'm not quite sure what to make of it.

They're all late paying their taxes.

They've paid enough late fees to buy a small bank in the Caymans.

It could be nothing.

Run it down.

But we're gonna run it down.

Find out how our victims ended up in that diner.

Okay.

What did we learn?

I can't tell you how our victims ended up in the diner, but do I have a good idea of what happened once they got there.

Our male victims surrounded our female victim.

She was here.

She got off the first sh*t.

Male number one never even fired his w*apon.

Captain Hanover took on heavy fire after that.

One to the shoulder, one to the arm.

She kept f*ring, took out male number two and male number three.

Then she dropped to one knee, fired three more sh*ts, took out male number four.

And by then she had lost too much blood.

It wasn't a Mexican standoff.

No. It was four against one.

Hanover put up a hell of a fight.

Yeah. I mean, for a desk jockey with very little weapons experience.

I mean, unless Morpheus had just downloaded Dirty Harry into her brain. Or else she's not who she seems. Do you want some of this?

Yeah.

Uh, ballistics?

Um, all the serial numbers were ground down, and I didn't get any hits on the ballistics databases, but I did find something interesting in our victims' calendars.

They all had appointments on the books with a tax-consulting firm the weekend they disappeared.

The same firm, Gibbs.

Got an address?

No. Just a name.

We Got Your Back Taxes.

I ran a search, but nothing came up.

Well, keep looking.

Call me if you find something.

I'll be at home.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Ex-wife number two?

I thought she was coming here to see you.

Yeah, she's coming.

That's why I'm going home.

(sighs)

(sniffing)

(phone ringing)

What do you got, McGee?

Well, Tony found a business card in one of the victim's office desk.

It has the address of our missing tax consultants, but it's all the way in Bridgewater.

Then we start early.

Pick me up at dawn.

Actually, can we make it 7:00?

Since Diane works at the IRS, she offered to pull our victims' tax records.

She's dropping them off tomorrow.

Diane?

McGee: Yeah.

She, uh, came in with ex-wife number two after you left.

I got to say, boss, she was crazy mad you were gone.

(door opens) McGee, it's because she is crazy.

(phone beeps off)

(door closes)

Rebecca: I'm crazy? Says the guy who cuts his toenails with a tin snip.

You lied to me!

You promised to meet me back at NCIS!

I didn't hear the word "promise."

Oh, no, no.

No. You are not weaseling out of this this time, you...

(sighs)

You... are right.

Technically, you didn't use the word "promise."

(clears throat)

But I'm here now, and we need to talk.

I don't need to talk.

I do.

(clears throat)

Want a drink?

I-I don't drink anymore.

That's actually why I'm here.

To not drink?

(sighs)

I... bottomed out... about a year ago.

(sighs)

A friend got me into the program.

It saved my life.

And now, I'm at the part where you make amends.

Which, in your case, starts with... I'm sorry.

Oh. Ancient history.

You walked in on me in bed with another man.

I don't think there's a statute of limitations.

I can't imagine what that must have been like.

I am so sorry, J.

Okay.

Okay?

Yeah. Okay.

(laughs)

It's why I always liked you.

A man of few words, but always the right ones.

(chuckles)

You doing all right now?

Yeah, better than all right.

You?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Oh, same.

Aside from a k*ller headache.

(chuckles)

(clears throat)

Well, I always knew how to fix those.

Come here.

It's... Come here.

(sighs)

Man.

I remember those fingers.

(laughs softly) Hmm.

(whispering): Boss?

Boss?

Diane: Chuckie, what's taking so long?

(door opens)

Boss?

Diane: How long does it take to...?

Holy Fourth of July weenie roast!

What the hell am I looking at?!

Whoa!

Whoa!

This is not what it looks like.

What does it look like?

We were up talking, and we fell asleep.

Just wore yourselves right out, huh?

I'm gonna go wait in the car.

You are supposed to be making amends, not making his year!

I didn't! I wouldn't! Yuck!

Yuck?

What's that supposed to mean?

Five hours ago, you couldn't wait to rub my...

Oh, look. It's a cat.

Outside. I'm gonna go help it.

McGee, stop!

What is she doing here?

Don't try to change the subject.

That's an order.

She found something in our victim's tax records.

Wanted to tell you herself.

So tell me.

So tell him.

Oh, you think I'm gonna let the two of you off the hook that easy?

I think I got five families members who want to know why their loved ones are dead.

And you're wasting time.

To be continued.

Both of you.

I was looking through your victims' tax filings, and I noticed something in the log.

Someone has already viewed them from outside the agency.

McGEE: The IRS was hacked.

Somebody was combing through their files to find Navy sailors who were late paying their taxes.

Diane: I have no idea what it means.

But, hopefully, you can find some answers at that tax office.

Ugh! You-- hot lips-- let's go. You're done.

Oh, uh, actually, there's something else.

It-it would mean a lot if you could be there.

Diane: What is wrong with you?

Can't leave you alone for five minutes.

What you got, boss?

It is a wedding invitation.

(sighs)

That's a rough one.

Hello? Anyone home?

Back door is locked.

Building manager came by.

Said that the tenant recently changed the locks, but we were free to pick it.

(clicks)

McGEE: NCIS!

(distant siren wailing, horn honking)

Not exactly H&R Block.

Gibbs: Manager say anything else?

McGEE: Said the guy that rented the place paid in cash.

Gave me a description and, uh, what sounded like a fake name.

Well, whoever rented this place definitely wanted their privacy.

Speaking of which, uh, sorry I walked in on you and Rebecca, boss.

You going to the wedding?

No.

Don't blame you.

I'm sure the guy she's, uh, marrying isn't too happy you were even invited.

Even less so if he found out that you two...

You two what?

Innocently slept all night long, butt-to-front, totally innocently?

You got something to say?

No! No, no, no.

I-I wasn't being sarcastic at all, boss.

I'm just saying because it, you know... it looked like you two were...

I mean...

What's that?

What, another cat in trouble, McGee?

No. Boss, look.

Somebody fired a w*apon in here.

(clicks)

McGEE: It's blood.

Somebody tried to clean it up, but it's definitely blood.

I'll get the lights in the car.

(lights humming, clacking)

What the hell happened in here?

Heard you have some good news and some bad news.

Actually, I have weird news, and I have weirder news.

Well, I will take it. All anyone can talk about upstairs is...

The slumber party at Gibbs' house.

News travels fast.

Gibbsonian News, even faster.

But I am not gonna get involved.

Hmm. I ran DNA on the blood samples that McGee brought back from the tax office.

Isolated five victims.

They're the same victims from the sh**t at the diner.

That's weird.

Told you.

How did our diner victims get into a sh**t halfway across town after losing that much blood?

They didn't.

I think the sh**t at the diner was staged.

I ran GSR on the victims' hands and clothing.

It's negative.

None of them fired a single b*llet.

You're right.

That's weirder.

Yeah. I think that the victims were lured to the tax office and k*lled, and then, their bodies were brought to the diner and set up like-like mannequins in a store display.

Why would anyone do that?

No idea. I'm still trying to figure what Gibbs is thinking, shacking up with his ex-wife. I mean, there's no way that he knew she was engaged, right?

I thought you weren't getting involved.

You bought that?

I don't think they shacked up.

I heard they still had their clothes on.

Okay, that's not what I heard.

What'd you hear?

I heard... (phone ringing)

Hold that thought.

Bishop.

(speaking low, indistinct over phone)

Okay. Yeah, be right there.

What is it?

Well, we haven't finished one case, and we already have another one.

But give me some gossip for the road.

(camera shutter clicking)

Tony: Master Chief Ekim Beanes.

The neighbors saw him lying on the street; called 911.

Paramedics tried to revive him, but he lost too much blood.

Ducky's not here yet, but it looks like a single s*ab wound to the chest.

Probably bled out pretty quickly.

Witnesses?

Some of the neighbors thought they might have heard an argument.

What do you think, a robbery?

Doesn't appear.

(indistinct radio chatter)

Bishop: No.

Tony: Yeah, that's wife number two.

Bishop: Really?

I'm telling you...

Hey!

You got something to say?

Uh, not in a million years.

Tony: Actually, I just want you to know I understand completely.

I do.

There's nothing more enticing than forbidden fruit, especially the kind you can spoon with.

(chuckles) That was...

I didn't... I shouldn't have said that.

That's a bad mouth.

McGee...

Boss, I did not say anything.

I-I don't know how everyone seems to know.

Know what?

There is nothing to know. You got that?

McGEE: Got it.

Uh, Gibbs?

What?

Found something in the victim's pocket.

You need to see this.

That's the same card one of our diner victims had.

These murders are connected.

Ducky: In fact, it was so hard to remember what happened to Henry VIII's wives that as children we had a mnemonic.

Divorced, beheaded, d*ed, divorced, beheaded, survived.

Yes. And with Jethro's mystery wife back on the scene, we're gonna need something similar.
(door opens)

Hello, Jethro!

I'm afraid your visit is somewhat premature.

Jimmy: The only thing we've done so far is the X rays.

I just wanted a second look.

Yeah.

There's something about this one, isn't there?

It's familiar somehow.

I had the same feeling when I saw the m*rder w*apon.

You've got the m*rder w*apon?

Maybe. Paramedics just dropped this off.

A trainee accidently grabbed it during the resuscitation attempt, thought it was part of their field kit.

It matches the wound, both in shape and size.

(thunder rumbling)

Mike.

Mike Franks.

He was wounded in the exact same manner.

About the same age, too.

Ducky: Also, he was left to die in the middle of the street.

(door opens)

That's a lot of coincidences.

(footsteps approaching)

No, it's not.

Jimmy had told me that something felt familiar about this victim.

And I've had the same nagging feeling about the fake sh**t at the diner.

(keys clacking)

Look familiar?

It's our crime scene sketch.

Yes.

But not from yesterday.

This... is from the diner where Director Shepard was k*lled.

This... is our latest crime sketch.

Abby: Our male victims surrounded our female victim.

She was here.

She got off the first sh*t.

Male number one never even fired his w*apon.

Captain Hanover took on heavy fire after that, one to the shoulder, one to the arm.

She kept f*ring.

Took out male number two and male number three.

Then she dropped to one knee, fired three more sh*ts, took out male number four.

And by then she had lost too much blood.


Ducky: Well, that is most certainly not a coincidence.

Someone is recreating murders from your past, Gibbs.

Why?

Tony: Five bodies turn up, staged to mirror the gunfight that k*lled Director Shepard in California.

Then another body appears, this time mirroring Mike Franks' m*rder.

Bishop: Both were NCIS.

Both pivotal figures in your life.

Somebody's gaslighting you, boss.

You think?

I want to know why.

Uh, no theories yet but we have a few angles on suspects.

The record from Director Shepard's m*rder was sealed.

Only a small group of people had the details.

And we will talk to each one of them.

And then there's...

Then there's what?

What?

These murders are all very personal to you and... occurred when someone else... personal showed up.

Your ex-wife.

Rebecca?

Yeah.

Rebecca isn't involved.

McGEE: Boss, you got to admit, the timing's kind of interesting.

Look, look, look.

She is totally unstable, completely disrespectful... untrustworthy-- she's a liar.

But she's no k*ller.

Show him.

McGEE: Three months ago, a large deposit was made to her savings account from an offshore bank.

Hundreds of thousands of dollars.

You are talking about a woman who doesn't know how to run a dishwasher.

Bishop: Show him.

I tracerouted the IP address that was used to hack the IRS.

Boss, it belongs to Rebecca.

Tony: We aren't saying she's the mastermind, but she's involved.

Oh, man.

I picked a really bad time to stop drinking coffee.

You know, this is harassment.

My fiancé's a lawyer.

You're gonna be scrubbing toilets at the National Mall when he gets through with you.

And then... it's my turn.

You never change, do you?

Sit down.

Please.

Well, that was the most awkward car ride of my life.

I need a Milk Dud.

Guess you didn't get enough the other night, huh?

Oh, snap.

This feels really wrong.

You can always leave.

You joking?

(door opens)

Man: Sorry I'm late.

Don't say another word. M...

Jethro.

Been a long time.

(clears throat)

What's he doing here?

He's my lawyer.

What, my fiancé can't be my lawyer?

You two are getting married?

Did you even read the invitation?

Invitation?

You invited him to our wedding?

We talked about this.

Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually go through with it.

Not that I have anything against you.

I'm the one who... I mean...

I didn't know.

(stammers)

I-I told you, I-I had no idea she was married.

Shut the front door-- it's him.

Man: I-I really didn't know.

I will even sign an affidavit if you'd like.

The... I mean... (clears throat)

I-I didn't know.

There goes the coffee restriction.

(clears throat)

What do you want to talk to my client about?

$300,000.

From an offshore bank.

(scoffs) Don't answer that.

Okay, let's try something else.

Where were you two nights ago?

Were you at home?

Or did you sleep someplace else?

By chance.

He's fishing.

Yeah, wait until you see what I catch.

Uncle Mel d*ed.

Ah... Gene, stop.

He left me the money, I can show you the will.

Is that it?

Oh.

Someone... God. hacked their IRS accounts.

We traced it back to you.

(laughs) You think I hacked the IRS?

Me?

Have you chipped your sander?

You could have paid someone.

(scoffs gently)

This all started the day you showed up.

Oh, rule 39.

There's no such thing as coincidences, right?

That's right.

First of all, I gave you that rule.

No, you didn't.

Yes, I did.

And second of all, use your head, J.

I'm clearly being set up here.

Obviously, someone knew that I was coming to see you.

That's your lead, not me.

Abby: Well, look at that.

It's not sophisticated, but she was right.

Somebody did know that Rebecca was going to see Gibbs.

Her cell phone is bugged.

She and Diane have been texting about Gibbs for weeks.

Can you trace the bug?

It's pretty unique.

So I uploaded the schematics into the FBI's ViCAP database to see if it had been used in other crimes. No hits, yet.

I'm gonna need to see the texts to Diane.

(laughing): That is so not happening.

It's for work, Abbs.

Come on.

You know you want to understand why wife number two would just suddenly appear out of the blue.

I already know.

And you really don't want to know.

Why not?

Because... it's sad.

Oh, no. What kind of sad?

None of your business kind of sad.

Well, I already know that Rebecca cheated on Gibbs when they were married.

I also know that she's marrying the guy she cheated with.

Oh.

You just told me everything.

Thank you, Abbs.

I did not.

Rebecca wants to make amends.

She's here to get Gibbs' approval for her wedding.

How on earth did you know that?

I'm a trained investigator.

Plus, let's be honest, everyone wants Gibbs' approval.

(computer beeps)

I got a hit on the bug.

Okay, so it was used in an unsolved espionage case two years ago.

Interpol is looking at this guy.

Ghenna Ulanov.

He's a Russian mercenary but has had a U.S. address for the past year.

Never heard of him.

Oh, no.

Looks like he's worked with Sergei Mishnev.

Number One with a b*llet on our Most Wanted Wall.

And Gibbs' personal basement wall.

(line ringing) Well, I hate to quote rule 39, but that is definitely not a coincidence.

McGEE: Doesn't look like anyone's home, boss.

Sergei's going to an awful lot of trouble.

I wonder what kind of game he's playing.

McGEE: Moving in.

All right, let's go.

NCIS.

No way he jumped out any windows.

Whoa.

Is that your ex-wife?

Tony: Looks like she's been under surveillance for weeks.

(phone ringing)

(phone beeps) Hey, I'm right in the middle of something here.

Diane: I know what's going on.

What?

Can't talk over the phone.

I'm texting you an address; meet me in a half hour.

Iron Lady, out.

Boss, she does realize she's an IRS agent, not CIA?

McGee, Bishop, tear this place apart.

DiNozzo, find Rebecca.

Bring her in for protective custody.

And you know what?

Gene, too.

Where you going?

To talk to Mata Hari.

Hey.

What the hell took you so long?

Thank goodness I have this lovely view to enjoy.

What's going on?

What do you mean?

You said you knew what was going on.

When?

Diane.

Why are we here?

(chuckles) Well, you tell me.

I'm in the middle of getting a manicure, and I get this cryptic text from you to meet you up on the top of this parking lot.

Come on, we got to go.

We got to go right now.

What? Why? Why?

Come on, come on, come on, come on.

(g*nsh*t)

(g*nsh*t echoes)

Sergei: Only the beginning, my friend.

Road blocks at every intersection in a two-mile radius.

And I want air support if you got it.

(people chattering)

We got to go.

We got to go right now. Come on. Why? Why?

(g*nsh*t)

(tires squealing)

Gibbs: NCIS!

Everybody get down!

(tires squealing)

(g*nshots)

(bystanders screaming)

(sirens approaching)

(elevator bell dings)

FBI and Homeland Security are on high alert.

I want agents at every train station and airport from here to the Atlantic.

On it.

Where's Leon?

Director Vance is flying back from his conference.

Okay, get me SECNAV, get me DNI.

(sighs)

Find Fornell and Emily, wherever they are.

Gibbs, I'm so sorry.

McGee?

Ducky and Jimmy are bringing the body in.

What about the sn*per nest?

Tony's on it.

So far, nothing useful, but we have something.

Found it in the RV after you left.

It's a motion sensor wired to a hidden laptop.

It's set to call your cell when someone entered, then play this recording.

DIANE (distorted): I know what's going on.

Can't talk over the phone.

I'm texting you an address; meet me in a half hour.

Iron Lady, out.

Ran it through voice analysis.

It's a good approximation, but it's not Diane.

I know.

Sergei wanted us to find that RV, boss.

Yeah, I know.

Just spoke with the FBI.

Fornell's in a classified briefing.

I didn't leave a message.

There anything else on the computer?

Yeah, one more recording, and this one's for you.

Hello, Agent Gibbs.

You are a hard nut to cr*ck, as you Americans like to say.

I left you all the clues.

You really should've seen it coming.

That has to sting.

You mess with my family, I mess with yours.

Check, Agent Gibbs.

Bishop: We're not sure what family he's referring to.

No kids we know of.

His father's Russian.

Interpol thinks his mother's Palestinian.

They're sending over the file.

Bishop: But it's the check that makes me most nervous.

Usually it means a checkmate's coming.

Ducky: All right, on three.

One, two...

No.

I beg your pardon?

No. I...

I don't want to.

You don't want to what, Mr. Palmer?

I don't want to know how much her liver weighs.

I don't want to catalog her scars.

(door opens)

(elevator bell dings)

But most of all, I don't want to cut open another friend.

I think I've had my limit.

I don't remember the moment when I reached my limit, but I do remember never being the same.

Would you like to see her?

You never loved me.

I liked you.

I still do.

But the only woman you'll ever love is Shannon.

You were my Shannon, Leroy.

I'll give you a moment.

No.

Have you told Fornell?

No, I'm gonna do that in person.

I just wanted to talk to you.

Me?

What the hell is this guy doing, Ducky?

Sergei Mishnev.

(chuckles)

Appears he's playing a somewhat macabre game.

Though, if we're lucky, it may actually be part of a master plan.

(softly): Lucky?

A plan we can anticipate, deal with, stop. Yeah.

Even if it's just a plan to k*ll you.

But I fear something worse.

Sergei wants to hurt you.

It's clear he blames you for something.

Something that wounded him to the core.

And now it's payback time.

But k*lling you is inadequate.

He wants to see you suffer.

Which means that all bets are off on what might come next (door opens) or for whom he might come.

(elevator bell dings)

Gibbs?

Abby, you got something?

I figured out how Sergei knew all the classified details of Director Shepard's death.

It was the virus that I.T. Kevin made for him.

It didn't just wreak havoc on our computer systems.

It stole from them.

What'd he get?

Your personnel file.

Records on everyone you've worked with.

I'm still compiling a list of the data that was sent to...

Stroke of genius!

Lightbulb!

Lightbulb over the head.

I think I know how to find Sergei.

Or possibly k*ll us all.

I'll let you know.

(elevator bell dings)

Are you out of your mind?

You want to release Sergei's virus?

Like a bad itch.

When it gathers its Intel and tries to phone home, we can trace it back to Sergei.

In theory.

Do you remember what happened last time?

It blew out all of our systems.

The furnace overheated, almost b*rned down the building.

I've learned from my mistakes, okay?

I've been studying this virus.

I think I can defang it with this.

It'll run, but it won't have any teeth.

Yeah, but you're defanging it by spreading it out over the city's transportation computing grid.

It's the closest system with enough bandwidth to handle the load.

It'll be fine.

We need to test it.

We don't have time.

Well, then we should call Gibbs.

He just left to talk to Fornell.

We need to leave Gibbs alone.

Okay?

Do you want to catch this bastard or not?

(sighs) All right, let's do it.

(computer chirping, trilling)

(phone rings)

Talk to me.

Bishop: We have a lead on Sergei and possibly some trouble with the Department of Transportation.

McGee: We used I.T. Kevin's virus as a homing beacon then traced it to an apartment in the city.

Where?

It's the building next to where Diane was k*lled.

Apartment 2E.

(tires squealing)

(men talking nearby)

(men talking, laughing in apartment)

Gibbs: I'm not much for words.

Most things are better left unsaid.

It'd be a lot easier if I could just pick you up and we'd start running and we'd never stop.

But before I do, I just want to ask you one thing.


Yes, I'll marry you.

An opportunity to twist the Kn*fe in?

Gibbs: No, that's your specialty.

Your way of getting even with me for leaving you?

It wasn't easy being a human anti-depressant.

You didn't think I knew? You just married me
to get over Shannon?

That's all I ever wanted.

To wake up next to someone I love.

You were my Shannon, Leroy.


Come on, we got to go. We got to go right now.

Why? Why?

Sergei: Hello, Agent Gibbs.

You mess with my family, I mess with yours.


Gibbs: I never meant to hurt you.

(g*nshots)

Well done, Agent Gibbs.

You may have won this battle, but I assure you... (groans)

(choking)

Checkmate.

Tony: Boss?

(distant siren wailing)

Boss, can you hear me?

(groans)

Sergei?

He got away.

Thanks for waiting for us.

(sighs)

Boss, you okay?

No.

Bishop: Neither are we.

They've got blueprints for dozens of U.S. m*llitary installations all over the place in there.

It looks like they tried to take them, but they left most of them behind.

Well, that's good. That means whatever they were planning, we stopped it.

(phone ringing)
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