COMMANDER: I said double-time it! Is that all you got?
Come on!
Right now.
Pick up the pace, you pathetic pollywogs!
You will never be accepted into the Kingdom of Neptune at this rate!
Rotate!
(all groaning)
(panting)
COMMANDER: Being welcomed into the mysteries of the deep is an honor!
It is a privilege that must be earned.
I thought crossing the equator was supposed to be fun.
(groans)
This is worse than boot camp!
What say you, esteemed Shellbacks?
Have they proven themselves worthy?
Nay!
(shouting)
You heard them.
Figure eights!
You got to be kidding me.
Brown!
Those who dare defy the king of Neptune end up in Davy Jones' Locker.
Man overboard!
Man overboard!
Starboard side!
Report to your muster stations, now!
Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late.
The MPD, uh, cop I hooked up with last month gave me a-- (chuckles)
a jaywalking ticket this morning and, uh, well... talk about a scorned woman.
Nice.
All right, that would be a whoops.
Thank you for that illuminating and highly inappropriate recap, Agent Torres.
Uh, Director, I, uh... did not see you standing there.
And by hooked up, I meant, like, you know, we get together and discuss a case.
We know what hooking up means.
We're . Not seven.
Well, this mentorship is off to a fantastic start.
Wait, I'm sorry.
Say what?
Mentorship?
Agent Torres, I'd like for you to meet the winners of NCIS's essay outreach contest.
This is Hayley, Blake and Max.
They'll be shadowing you for the next two days.
(laughs)
Okay, okay.
That was pretty good.
You find that amusing, Agent Torres?
Oh, you... you're being serious.
Mm-hmm.
Um...
Director, may I have a word with you?
Uh, see, Gibbs, McGee and Bishop, they're the ones who volunteered to be a mentor.
Not me.
Because, like...not my thing.
Seeing as they're on a helo en route to the USS Ewing, their assignment now falls to you.
You three are in very good hands.
And I'm certain that Agent Torres will do his very best to give you a proper introduction into life at NCIS.
As if his job depended on it.
Sir.
- You sure you're a real agent?
TORRES: Yeah.
Why?
You're wearing a T-shirt.
A women's small, from the looks of it.
Don't you own a suit?
Um, outdated much?
Agents are only required to wear suits for court or formal proceedings.
Yeah.
What she said.
We're looking forward to this, sir.
(chuckles)
Consider us sponges ready to absorb all the knowledge you have to impart on us.
Did you just call me "sir"?
Yes, sir.
Actually, that does have a nice ring to it.
Hmm.
What's first on the agenda, Agent Torres?
Agenda...
Yeah, okay.
A coffee.
One sugar.
BOTH: On it.
And for your information, this is a compression T-shirt.
It increases circulation.
Keep telling yourself that.
Anyone else feel like they're in the middle of a Pirates of the Caribbean movie?
(chuckles)
Arr!
You know what?
Loving the costumes.
Yeah, it's part of the Shellback ceremony.
It's a Navy tradition when the ship crosses the equator.
What's this stuff all over the deck?
Are these, uh, eggs that are dyed green?
Yeah.
Also part of the ritual.
How very Dr. Seussian.
How about your dad?
Did he ever participate in one of these ceremonies when he was in the Navy?
Oh, this is nothing compared to what my dad went through when he was a pollywog.
Yeah?
What'd they make him do?
Please don't say "eat raw eggs."
Crew threw him overboard.
Made him swim back to the ship.
It's okay, though.
Navy doesn't do that anymore.
You sure about that?
The victim's Petty Officer First Class Kendrick Allston.
He was one of our cryptologic techs.
How long has he been on board?
Little more than four years.
Longer than I've been here.
You know him well?
Better than most.
He was one of the brightest sailors I'd ever been around.
Would've staked my career on him making it to admiral one day.
How long until he was retrieved from the water?
One minute and seconds from the time he was spotted.
I know that man-overboards happen at sea, but nothing like this has ever occurred under my command before.
I want answers just as much as you do.
Gibbs, no one who was on deck at the time saw how or when Petty Officer Allston fell overboard.
Then find the last person to see him alive.
There's no need to dance around this on my account, agents.
You have something else to add, Commander?
Just that I agree with what you're probably already suspecting.
That what happened to Petty Officer Allston wasn't an accident.
Why do you say that?
The likelihood of him drowning... is slim to none.
Allston was a search and rescue swimmer.
BISHOP: Even so, the impact of him hitting the water could have knocked him unconscious.
It was a fall that he had done dozens of times in training and it never affected him.
Something else must have happened to him.
Boss?
- What do we got?
- Blunt force trauma.
He was definitely struck in the back of the head.
- By what?
- Well, that's the weird part.
You see these five indentations around the wound?
They are all the exact same depth and diameter.
Get to the weird part.
Well, I've only seen an injury like this one other place.
It was in a medical textbook where the victim was k*lled by a, uh...
well, he was k*lled by a medieval flail.
You know the stick where chains attach, got a little spiked ball on it?
- Yeah, yeah.
I got it, McGee.
I'd say that definitely puts this in the weird category.
With Allston's body headed to NCIS, what kind of timeline are we looking at?
Till we get a cause of death, your ship's in a holding pattern, Commander.
Mission deadlines aren't my concern, Agent Gibbs.
It's the safety of my crew.
If there's a m*rder*r on board, I want him found.
What can I do to expedite things?
We'll need access to the entire ship.
Including Petty Officer Allston's quarters.
Well, the master-at-arms sealed off his rack and footlocker this morning.
I'll see to the rest.
BISHOP: To be honest, yes, I am shocked.
TORRES: Why?
What do you mean, "why"?
Everybody knows you're terrible with teenagers.
TORRES: Really?
- Oh, okay.
Keep me posted.
So what's so shocking?
Oh, Torres says he's got a handle on this mentoring thing.
Yeah, that doesn't sound right.
Hey, what do we know?
Well, my sweep of the decks turned up no sign of where Allston was hit in the head or where he went overboard.
Torres is briefing Petty Officer Allston's next of kin.
- Background?
Uh, Kendrick Allston, .
Born and raised in Wheeling, West Virginia.
Graduated top of his high school class before enlisting.
Not a single blemish on his record.
BISHOP: He was a rising star, rose from the rank of seaman recruit to first class petty officer in less than six years.
Practically unheard of.
Must have made a lot of friends.
And at least one enemy.
McGee, you're with me.
Bishop, start interviewing the crew.
Find out who had issues with Allston.
Boss, what about Torres?
Oh, he's got his hands full.
Do you plan on doing any work today or are you just pure window dressing?
Don't let my ridiculous good looks fool you.
I get the job done.
You know what?
You're right.
Update time.
Show me what you got.
Yes, sir.
So, per your instructions, I organized all your quarterly expense reports and submitted them to accounting in addition to preparing your tax return for this year.
TORRES: Hmm.
Business write-offs?
Taken care of, sir.
Not bad, not bad.
Hales, you're up.
I organized, collated and archived all non-classified reports.
Using shortcut tabs to maximize efficiency.
Whoo!
We're on a roll, baby.
Max, bring us home.
(phone beeping)
Yo, I said no cell phones.
(phone beeping)
(phone whooshes)
Happy?
Well, that depends.
What is the status of my jaywalking appeal?
How should I know?
That was your assignment.
Hmm.
Pass.
(laughing): Pass.
Agents don't get to choose or pick their assignments.
They do the job they're given.
I'm here to learn.
Not to be your errand boy.
VANCE: I agree.
Agent Torres.
A word?
(clears throat)
Sir?
You mind telling me what you're doing?
Mentoring, sir.
Today's lesson is about how an agent can get stuck with work they didn't ask for.
Hypothetically speaking, of course.
Well, unless you wish to pull weekend duty for the next three months, I would suggest that you start showing them the ropes around here.
Great!
(chuckles)
So, where to next, boss?
What about checking out MTAC?
Or the cyber division?
Ooh!
Can we go into the field with you?
Ooh, yeah, I like that, let's do that, yeah.
Yeah.
That's a good one.
Yeah.
(phone beeping)
Sir?
(clears throat)
Give me a minute.
McGEE: Hey, boss, look at this locker, not a single item out of place.
His rack's inspection-ready.
Bounce a quarter off that sheet.
Allston was one squared-away sailor.
Who is that?
McGEE: Girlfriend?
Sister?
I'll find out.
BISHOP: So you were the first sailor to spot Allston in the water?
Yes, ma'am.
Although I did not know it was him at the time.
Any reason you forgot to mention you were also his bunkmate?
I didn't think that was important.
Why is it?
When's the last time you saw him?
Earlier that morning, before the ceremony.
He was laying in his rack before watch.
Was he acting differently?
No, not that I could tell.
Did he ever confide in you in any problems he was having?
No, but I wouldn't expect him to.
He and I weren't exactly friends.
So who was he friends with?
Allston wasn't close with anyone.
All he cared about was work.
- What about enemies?
- I doubt it.
I mean, he may have been a buzzkill at times, but he was still a good guy.
We all knew that.
The line-crossing ceremony is really quite fascinating.
Did you know it's a sailing tradition that dates back over years?
Fascinating.
You doing okay?
You look exhausted.
I mean, the bags under your eyes...
Bags?
What bags?
What're you talking about?
Ah...
It's those damn kids, man.
They running you ragged, huh?
I know you're no good with teenagers.
Why does everybody keep saying that?
I am a seasoned law enforcement agent.
Nothing fazes me, son.
Where are your little mentees?
Up in the lab learning m*llitary strategy and combat tactics.
Oh.
- Wait, what?
- Don't overthink it.
What's the cause of death?
Prepare yourself because it is rather unexpected.
Petty Officer Allston's cause of death was not drowning, nor was it a blunt force trauma to the head.
Nick, he d*ed of a sudden cardiac arrest.
A heart att*ck?
At ?
Even stranger considering he has no familial history of heart issues.
I'm still awaiting the results of his blood panel, but...
(stammers)
a massive cardiac episode could give another explanation to his head wound.
So he wasn't struck from behind?
Upon closer inspection, I found that the wound pattern is not that of a medieval flail, but rather bulkhead piping from a Navy destroyer.
So he was hit with a piece of the ship?
Possibly, or he accidentally hit his head and fell overboard.
KASIE: Nicholas Torres!
- Uh, what's up, Kasie?
- Oh!
I'll tell you what's up.
JIMMY: Kasie, Kasie, wh-what-what's that noise?
We can barely hear you.
Torres, my lab now!
She didn't sound too happy, did she?
No.
Good luck, buddy.
Yeah.
Blake, I need you on backup on this one.
- Huh?
No.
HAYLEY: Come on!
Dude.
I don't see how this game is educational.
It's a team-building experience.
Yeah, so is a trust fall, and that's quiet.
Yo, yo, I'm here, I'm here.
What's the problem?
I'm sorry, what's that?
Uh-uh...
The blood filling my ears must be affecting my hearing.
That's the problem.
I have work to do, and I can't concentrate with the sounds of D-Day going on in here.
This is not what we agreed upon.
Kasie, you have to help me out.
I got to stash them somewhere so I can get some work done.
Okay, you know what?
That sounds like a Torres problem, not a Kasie problem.
You think I don't have anything better to do, huh?
Than to babysit annoying wannabe teenage agents?
(loud crunching)
Where did he come from?
Break room.
- Thanks for the cash.
- What cash?
Your snack machine sucks.
Okay, the wallet swipe, that's my thing.
And you owe me cents.
(computer beeps)
That should be the result of Petty Officer Allston's blood work.
(sighs)
Technically, this is the second analysis.
The initial results were so off the charts, I had to verify the data.
Oh, boy.
Are the results different?
Uh, unfortunately, no.
Allston had high levels of amphetamines and lysergic acid diethylamide in his system.
His cardiac arrest was the result of a drug overdose.
But everything we have on this guy says he was as straightlaced as they come.
Yeah, well, I mean, everybody's got a skeleton in their closet.
His was a lethal one.
Oh, thank God you guys are back.
What?
What're you doing?
Please don't ever leave me again like that.
Those kids are driving me crazy, man.
The mentees?
It takes less energy to infiltrate a drug cartel.
I pawned them off on a probie just so I can have a few hours of "me time."
How about "update time"?
Yeah, and that, too.
I contacted Allston's sister.
She's on her way in.
Where's, uh, where's Bishop?
Running point on the ship.
What about the dr*gs in Allston's system?
According to Kasie, it's some kind of, uh, synthetic combination of hallucinogens and stimulants.
It's called a Tri-sh*t.
Well, at least that's what the kids at my school call it.
Mine, too.
Why are you not with Agent Ventura?
She went to look for Max.
He wandered off again.
Torres, go find him.
You two, keep talking.
I mean, there's not really much else I can say.
I've never really done Tri-sh*ts myself.
Well, you use a dropper to ingest it.
One or two drops should do the trick.
Any more than that, you'll wind up in the ER.
I mean, from what I've heard.
We're not really into that kind of stuff.
Yeah, uh, Zico and B.I. are more my vice.
The hell is that?
Seriously?
It's K-hip hop.
What the hell is that?
BOTH: Tragic.
Hey, there.
Can I help you?
No.
Uh, okay.
Uh, let's try this one: who are you?
- Max.
Oh, sorry, you must be one of the essay winners.
I'm Agent Jack Sloane.
You're new here, am I right?
Not exactly.
Ah.
You like that?
I, uh, got it in Austria.
What do you think?
You want an honest answer?
Always.
It doesn't fit.
Hmm.
Hey, take one.
Why?
(laughs): Come on, dude, just humor me.
Aha.
Black licorice.
Interesting.
You gonna analyze me now?
I could, or you could just tell me why you're here.
Essay winners get to shadow an NCIS agent.
I mean the real reason.
Why are you here, Max?
Yo, my man.
What about "stay put" don't you get?
I'm not a dog.
I know 'cause dogs listen, and if you don't, I'll try a different method.
Nick, is that really necessary?
Jack, teenagers are like raptors, okay?
They smell fear.
You have to stay strong.
Come on, move it.
Come on.
Bye, Max.
McGEE: We're sorry for your loss, Miss Allston.
So how did this happen?
Your brother overdosed.
That's not possible.
McGEE: A fatal amount of a synthetic drug was found in his system.
You're wrong.
I-I would've known if my brother was doing dr*gs.
Well, he could've been keeping it from you.
(scoffs)
Opioids decimated our hometown.
Kendrick was determined to escape that life.
Someone must've set him up.
Why would they do that?
Being the C.O.'s favorite made him a target.
You have a name for us?
(sighs)
Andrew Townsley.
He was a sailor on board the Ewing. He had been harassing my brother for weeks.
I should've stepped in and done something, but Kendrick said he wanted to fight his own battles.
TORRES: Man, it feels so good to be on the field. In a few more hours, this mentoring thing will be over.
It's been two days.
Exactly.
What's this guy's story?
Well, Andrew Townsley, years old.
Discharged six months ago when he popped positive for a ship-wide drug test.
TORRES: Says here that he was brought up to captain's mast, where he punched his superior.
(laughs)
- This guy's a winner.
- Yep.
There he is.
Andrew Townsley?
Who wants to know?
NCIS.
(laughs)
Use context clues, idiots.
Can't you see I'm not in the Navy anymore?
I'm sure they're reeling from the loss.
This guy look familiar?
Yeah, what did the Boy Scout rat me out for this time?
Hmm?
Stealing gum from the ship's store?
You know what, you tell Allston if he has a problem with me, he can say it to my face.
We would... if he wasn't dead.
Dead?
(laughing)
Wow, poor guy.
What a shame.
You really seem broken up about it.
Why should I be?
Allston had it coming.
Well, that's what we call a motive.
And you're what we call a suspect.
I'm sorry, am I missing something?
Because the USS Ewing is at sea.
So, what did I do, magically teleport there and back?
That's some real top-notch investigating there, fellas.
You know, I feel safer knowing that cops like you are out there protecting us.
You know, I'll bet a charming guy such as yourself still has a few friends on board that ship.
Yeah.
So what?
Well, maybe you had them dish out a little revenge.
Allston reported your drug use up the chain of command.
Maybe you were looking for a little payback.
Hey, I smoked a little pot during our port visit to Cartagena.
All right?
It's Colombia.
I could have done far worse.
But no, Allston just had to make a big deal out of it.
Well, he should have kept his mouth shut.
Well, k*lling him definitely taught him a lesson.
Get serious, man.
I wasn't the only one on the crew who couldn't stand the guy.
Who else?
Gee...
(clears throat)
My memory's not so good these days.
You guys want anything else, you can call my attorney.
Man, this guy makes me miss my mentees.
Townsley was trouble from the day he stepped on board two years ago.
Did he have any other infractions?
Two nonjudicial punishments for insubordination and as*ault prior to his failed drug test.
Townsley was just itching for a bad-conduct discharge.
Hold on, Townsley worked in the same division as Petty Officer Brown?
That's correct.
Deck department.
Same Brown who was Allston's bunkmate?
WOMAN (over P.A.): Medical emergency, crew berthing.
Medical emergency, crew berthing.
WOMAN: He's not responding to chest compressions.
MAN: I'll get the respirator.
Start bagging him.
Petty Officer Brown.
What happened?
I don't know, ma'am.
He was unresponsive when I found him.
What is Brown's condition?
Well, the corpsmen were able to stabilize him, but he hasn't regained consciousness.
Doc suspects that it was another drug overdose.
Huh.
Two sailors OD on the same ship, in the same day.
That doesn't sound like a coincidence.
It's a PR nightmare.
SECNAV wants answers, and so do I.
You find any dr*gs on him, Bishop?
No, nothing.
I sent all the contents from his footlocker to the lab.
All right, stay close.
I want to know when he wakes up.
Copy that.
Leon.
I know that look.
What's on your mind, Jack?
Something I'm curious about.
Before I transferred to HQ, who worked in my office?
It had been vacant for a few years.
Uh-huh.
And before that?
Why do you want to know?
Just a hunch...
that that look in your eye is confirming.
It was Agent Girard, wasn't it?
Let it go, Jack.
That's not really my specialty, as you know, Leon.
Then I would suggest that you tread lightly.
- Hmm?
- Mm-hmm.
They say parting is such sweet sorrow.
Not always.
Bet you can't say where that line's from.
Here's a hint.
It's not Maxim. Oh.
I'll miss those witty remarks most of all.
Agent Torres, would it be possible to extend shadowing another day?
I just feel like there's so much we didn't get to see yet and...
Oh, I know, I know, right?
I know, but those are the rules.
That's all the time we got.
So, yeah.
BLAKE: Well, we really appreciate you mentoring us for these past few days.
I feel like I've learned a lot.
Yeah, thanks to you, we learned how to get by in life by doing as little as humanly possible.
It's a gift.
This probie will, uh, lead you guys out.
Take care.
Thank you so much.
It's been real.
Stay in school.
And please remember, only you can prevent forest fires.
(exhales sharply)
Back out now, while you still can, Tim.
'Cause you ain't ready for this.
Hey, I was born ready for this.
Okay?
You-you are going down.
You watch.
Wow, we both really need to work on our trash talk.
- I agree.
- Okay, focus.
Ready, set, go.
(gags)
Oh, nope.
Ugh!
Oh, number one energy drink in the U.S. my foot.
I like it.
Are you a masochist?
Why would anyone voluntarily drink this?
Well, sailors live off this stuff.
Helps 'em stay awake when they're standing watch.
Oh...
I should get hazard pay.
Ugh.
Then why are you drinking it?
Oh, research.
The case of Day/Night Energy that was confiscated from Brown's footlocker was laced with Tri-sh*ts.
- Every bottle?
- Yep.
And if energy drinks are as popular on ships as you say they are, I mean, that makes it the perfect place to hide contraband.
So, why would Brown be dumb enough to overdose on his own supply?
(chuckles)
He brought dr*gs onto a Navy ship.
I mean, he's already proven that he's lacking in the intelligence department.
Unless... he drank it not knowing it was laced with Tri-sh*ts.
If the same thing happened to Petty Officer Allston, then that means they're both victims.
Hmm.
Come on, man.
TORRES: Petty Officer Brown's background is clean, Gibbs.
No past drug history.
Same as Allston's.
Somebody brought the dr*gs on board.
Where'd they come from?
Well, DEA's records show that the Tri-sh*ts came on the scene about four months ago, with instances concentrated along the Eastern seaboard.
They smuggled in from South America?
Zero reports of the drug have been found in any of the countries the USS Ewing has visited in port.
As of now, it's not international.
It's got to be homegrown.
(phone rings)
McGee.
Torres.
Check into every person of interest the DEA looked into for Tri-sh*ts.
On it.
Wait, what?
Oh, come on.
I got it.
Security says Max never exited the building.
So, what are you doing here?
You said you got it.
Go.
Thought I'd help you out.
I don't need your help.
Go away.
Ah, I can't.
Building security is looking everywhere for you.
Which means you are running out of time.
So, go on in.
This is why you came here, right?
I-I was just, um...
You were just thinking about the last time you stood on this spot, looking through these doors?
Director Vance told you?
I figured it out on my own.
Let me guess.
You're gonna tell me that you understand, that you get me?
I don't want to hear it.
Okay.
Then how about I just tell you the truth?
And what's that, Dr.
Phil?
You want to believe that you've moved on from what happened, but you're only lying to yourself.
You won't get closure unless you let go of the anger you're holding onto.
I swore I'd never set foot in this building again.
Yeah.
Then why did you?
Something I had to do.
- Mm.
- Not just for me.
Seeing this place again...
it's like nothing's changed.
Yet, everything has changed.
Coming here was a mistake.
No.
- Hey...
- Unbelievable.
No, wait, Nick.
Unbelievable.
You were supposed to leave hours ago.
This isn't a day care, kid.
Move it.
- Come on.
- No.
What?
I'm not leaving.
Hey, Torres...
You've been nothing but a pain in the ass in the past two days.
You don't listen, you don't follow orders, and you show no respect.
(scoffs)
A lecture on respect is the last thing I need from you.
Well, getting stuck with a privileged, ungrateful punk like you isn't what I need, either.
- Hey, Nick.
Grateful.
What should I be grateful for?
How you acted like mentoring was beneath you?
How you treated us like we were a burden?
How...
I know what an agent is.
You're not it.
And what would you know about it?
A real agent goes the extra mile to help people.
He puts his life on the line every day, and makes sacrifices, which is something you are far too self-absorbed to comprehend.
Max...
You believe that kid?
Uh, actually, Nick, I'd say you're the one acting like a child here.
Me?
What did I do?
How about what you didn't do?
Like read your mentees' essays.
Jack, I was busy working on the case.
Had you tried to get to know them, you would know that Max is the son of Ed Girard, one of the NCIS agents that was k*lled in the Navy Yard bombing six years ago.
Max was here visiting his father that day.
Only one of them made it out alive.
He came here searching for closure, and he was treated like an inconvenience.
You want me to choose sides, Nick?
I'm on Max's.
The ship's on alert, and all bottles of Day/Night Energy on board have been confiscated just in case.
The crew give you anything?
Not much.
Barely any of them have heard of Tri-sh*ts, or so they say.
There any change in Brown?
Well, he regained consciousness a half hour ago.
I'm standing by to question him.
All right, keep me posted, Bishop.
Hey, Gibbs?
Why didn't you tell me?
Tell you what?
That Max was Agent Girard's son.
Why would I?
Well, because I would've acted differently.
I would've...
would've done something else.
It shouldn't matter who he was.
That's the point, Torres.
Was this some kind of test?
You're damn right.
What do you want from me?
This is your mess, Nick.
You clean it up.
Hey, I didn't ask for this.
I wasn't cut out to be a teacher.
You are scared.
I don't get scared.
Stop holding back...
when something is not familiar.
Because you know everything, right?
A student's failure is a reflection of their teacher.
(door opens, closes)
Don't bother apologizing.
I don't need your pity.
Oh, I wasn't gonna apologize.
You do owe me one, though.
Good luck with that.
Are you always this irritating, or is it just with me?
You're not that special.
All right, so you don't want an apology.
Then what do you want?
I used to think that NCIS was the coolest place ever, when I was a kid.
I'd come here all the time to visit my dad at work.
What was he like?
He...
loved helping people.
He always used to say, "Son, in a world full of problems, be the solution." And I guess every son feels that way about their dad.
Were you in the building that day?
No.
I was.
The sounds...
(screaming)
...the smells...
No matter how hard I try and forget that day, I can't.
Agent Sloane was right.
I am angry.
Why did I get to live and my dad had to die?
It's been six years and I still don't understand why this happened.
That's a question you're never gonna get an answer to.
I've been waiting years for one.
That's the last time I saw my father.
He, uh, he ran out on my mom, my sister and me when I was five.
You know, when you're abandoned, you...
you're left wondering why.
And no answer will ever fix it.
You know, we don't get to choose what-what happens to us, but we get to choose how it shapes us.
Don't, don't let what happened that day, uh, overshadow the memories...
memories of your father.
I just miss him.
I know.
But he would want you to live your life.
You trust me on that?
I'm sorry about earlier.
Me, too.
BISHOP: Hey.
Do you know where you are?
Medical, but I don't know how.
What's the last thing you remember?
Oh, I wasn't feeling too well, so I went and laid down on my rack.
But must have just been something I ate.
Close.
Something you drank.
Energy drinks in your locker were laced with dr*gs.
You are lucky to be alive.
I...
I had no idea.
Allston.
That's what k*lled him?
How do you know that?
He got sent those drinks in a care package, and he drank one.
But he hated it.
He said he was gonna toss it, but I said I'd take them instead.
Did he say who sent the care package?
It was an accident.
You sent your brother a care package laced with dr*gs.
It was never meant to go to him.
I...
I accidentally mixed up the shipments.
The package was meant for your dealer.
By the time that I'd realized what I'd done...
it was too late.
You are a Tri-sh*t distributor.
One of them.
Did your brother know?
No.
I could never bring myself to tell him the truth.
I knew how disappointed he'd be in me.
I loved my brother more than anything.
I'll never be able to forgive myself for what I've done.
I want the names of everyone in your operation.
(exhales)
(seabirds squawking)
Good morning.
Hey, welcome back.
How's Petty Officer Brown?
Making a speedy recovery.
Doc said he'll be back to full duty in just a few days.
Hey.
Would you look at that?
Got your sea legs.
Yeah.
And then some.
As a thanks for our help, Commander Rackham made me an honorary Shellback.
I've been angling for one of these for years.
You get all the luck.
Hey, where's Torres?
He took a personal day.
(phone rings)
- Yeah.
Gibbs.
- Personal day?
I didn't think we could take those.
Me, neither.
Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Grab your gear.
Got a robbery in Quantico.
Mm.
Well, guess there's always tomorrow.
An agent's job is never done.
TORRES: All right.
Well, that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes your first-class tour of a U.S.
Navy guided m*ssile cruiser.
BLAKE: Ha!
You know, it's bigger than it looks.
A cafeteria, gym and a barber shop?
It's like a small floating city.
You know, I still can't believe we got access into the Combat Information Center.
Didn't we need to have a secret security clearance for that?
Yeah, so I, uh, called in a favor for that.
Let that be, uh, our little secret.
Okay.
Right.
Hey, uh, what made you change your mind letting us shadow you for another day, Agent Torres?
Well, I realized that I should've given you a proper NCIS education instead of tricking you into running my errands.
Tricking us?
I told you his expense reports weren't a matter of national security.
I didn't think you'd believe me.
(chuckles)
But still, it-it was wrong.
And, uh, I just...
I hope this day out in the field, uh, somehow made up for it.
Uh, and not to mention this super legit NCIS swag, courtesy of this guy.
These are pretty nice.
I guess so.
Look at that.
We're off the clock.
Just like that.
You know what that means?
- Happy hour at a bar?
Huh?
- No.
No.
(laughter)
Diner and burgers, on me.
I'm in.
Shotgun.
You had shotgun on the way here.
Hey, Blake!
Hey, hey, all right.
I call music!
How long do you think we should wait until we tell them it's walking distance?
I say we call them from the diner.
(laughs)
Okay.
Yeah, that's good.
Hey, you look pretty good in that.
Something to consider.
I'm not so sure about that.
I'm not my father.
Hey, don't sell yourself short, kid.
Not on my watch.
Besides, a wise man once said, "In a world full of problems, be the solution." You heard that somewhere?
Yeah, it kind of stuck with me a little bit.
Come on, probie.
I'm starving.