Find the button that says "cable," Grandma.
(woman speaking indistinctly over phone)
Should be on the top of the remote.
Yeah, the Okay, now, now push the "power" button.
Do you see a blue light on the on the cable box?
(woman continues speaking indistinctly over phone)
I-I don't know, Grandma.
That's just the way it works.
No, you can't have your old remote back.
Whoo!
What a rush!
Because it's in the trash, that's why.
I threw it out.
More loofahs?
Come on, people.
Mama needs a new pair of shoes.
Uh, uh, Edie says she loves and misses you, too.
Ye Okay, I'll have the car back to you tonight, I promise.
I got to go.
Okay.
Love you.
Okay, bye.
(electrical whirring)
What the?
NCIS 16x03 Boom "F.
" No "F.
" You lose.
(video game music plays)
Wait.
What?
No, what about the-the eyes and the mouth and the face?
There is no face in hangman.
Bishop.
Not getting involved.
Sorry I'm late.
And I'm already late for my next meeting, so let's get started so we can get finished.
Everyone, take a look at these documents.
Who is she?
Agency attorney.
Never good news.
Effective immediately, NCIS is discontinuing its use of cell phone tower location tracking.
- With this directive, we can - Whoa, whoa, hold on.
Are you, are you saying that I can no longer ping a suspect's cell phone?
Not without a warrant you can't.
Hi.
Agent Torres here.
So, uh, Agent McGee, uh, he pings, like, all the time.
That is like his superpower.
Not anymore.
Supreme Court just ruled it's illegal.
They're wrong.
Right, McGee?
Actually, I kind of get it.
Sometimes privacy outweighs the need for security.
I'm sorry, what McGee means to say is the new policy means dangerous criminals can get away.
- Does Director Vance know about this?
- He's on leave.
What about Gibbs?
Yeah, what about him?
expl*si*n outside a Navy SEAL's house.
We have two bodies.
Wait, I just need one more minute, sir, to finish my presentation.
Grab your gear.
- "Grab your gear.
" - "Grab your gear.
" Oh, "grab your gear.
" Those two yahoos okay?
I don't know anymore.
(dogs barking in distance)
Where's my damn paper?
Come on.
Geez.
Kayla?
Kayla?
Have you seen the newspaper?
Morning, Dad.
You're just in time.
Honey, my newspaper.
I recycled it.
Already?
It's only 8:30.
Which means it's time for you to go back to work.
Today's your first day back.
I thought you'd be showered by now.
And dressed.
You want something to go with your coffee?
Yeah, my newspaper.
You are not getting away that easy.
Yeah, I noticed.
How's the hip today?
- It's cranky.
- Like the rest of you.
Sweetheart, thank you for breakfast.
That was very thoughtful.
But I've got physical therapy today.
So, work tomorrow, then?
We'll see.
And right here.
(camera clicking)
You've, uh, you've never seen that vehicle before?
No, sir.
Whose is it?
Burglars.
The neighbors saw one of them steal a package off your porch.
And then they exploded?
The package exploded.
Palmer, what do we (phone beeping)
Got?
Yeah.
Well, we got two victims.
Death was instantaneous.
Both d*ed from blast injuries.
Were you expecting any deliveries today, Petty Officer Nicholas?
Maybe.
My wife orders stuff online all the time.
Well, according to the delivery company, it was addressed to you.
- Hey, hey, whoa.
- Let me through.
I'm his wife.
- Hey!
- Todd.
My darling, are you okay?
I'm fine.
I'm okay.
Is that his wife?
Uh, yeah.
It looks like it.
- Her name's Sheba.
- Sheba.
McGee, you know her?
Yeah.
You-you guys don't?
No.
Bishop, do you?
Uh, no.
I'm okay.
McGee.
Sorry, boss.
Uh, her name is Sheba.
She's one of the stars of the show Real Wives of w*r.
The reality show?
You watch that?
- Well, Delilah does.
- Mm-hmm.
Uh-huh.
Oh, my God, you know what?
Petty Officer Nicholas must be Todd.
SHEBA: How could this happen?
Todd-- he's not on the show, but she talks about him all the time.
Says that she is the luckiest woman in the world.
Wow.
Delilah must, uh, really like that show.
Yeah.
Okay.
Excuse me, Officer.
Uh, yes.
Sorry, I mean Agent.
I mean, um what?
Please tell me this isn't real.
Excuse me?
It's sweeps.
Greg put you up to this?
Greg.
My producer.
Hey, Torres.
Uh, no, this is real.
Somebody mailed your husband a b*mb.
(clears throat)
A b*mb?
That doesn't make any sense.
What are you talking about?
A b*mb?
(Sheba continues talking indistinctly)
I think I know who did this.
My wife.
TORRES: Our package thief is Edie Samples.
A doorbell camera caught her in the act.
McGEE: It appears she and boyfriend Walt Fergus followed the delivery truck and stole all the packages.
They picked the wrong package to poach.
Who was the b*mb's real target?
Petty Officer First Class Todd Nicholas.
27.
Graduated from SEAL training two months ago.
As squared away as they come.
- What about his wife?
BISHOP: Sheba Nicholas.
25.
No kids, no record, no job, until she joined the reality show Real Wives of w*r two seasons ago.
McGEE: Actually, it was two and a half.
She was in all 41 episodes, if you count the two-parter as one, which I personally like to do.
Go on.
Well, I-I don't know all that much.
No, it's okay, McGee.
I mean, we've already judged you, so Oh, okay.
Well, the show's about four m*llitary wives, right?
Charlotte, Tessa, Angela-- Angela's quite the instigator.
Actually, Tess and Char-Char are pretty catty, too.
- Char-Char?
- My point is that Sheba is the wholesome, virtuous one.
She loves everyone, especially her husband.
Last week's episode We got it.
You think she's innocent.
Boss, the Sheba I know would never do anything like this.
Now that I say that out loud, I feel slightly embarrassed.
Hey, Tim you should be.
GIBBS: "Char-Char.
" Were you able to trace that package?
Dead end.
It was sent by a "G.
Washington" with a return address to the Lincoln Memorial.
Your turn.
Why do you think your wife sent it?
Three days ago, Sheba threatened to k*ll me.
Why?
She thinks I'm having an affair.
Are you?
Do I have to tell the truth in here, sir?
Well, that depends.
You like bombs in your mail?
I'm not having an affair.
But I told her I was.
Okay.
I want out of my marriage.
That woman is not the person I fell in love with.
That show turned her into a total psycho.
Silly question: why not just divorce?
I've tried.
She won't do it; she thinks I'll make a play for her reality money.
Okay, her thr*at-- what did she say, exactly?
She told me that she would chop off my, um manhood while I slept, and then laugh as I bled to death.
Mm.
Oh, my God.
I love him so much.
He's my whole world.
How can he accuse me of something like this?
Well, maybe I just don't understand.
It doesn't make any sense!
Sheba.
You can stop now.
We know your marriage is falling apart.
(sighs)
Todd told you that, huh?
Typical.
Then why'd you let me go on blubbering like that?
You ruined my mascara.
I am so sorry.
Why were you blubbering like that?
Look, this is me.
If you don't like it, change the channel.
Three days ago, did you thr*aten Seriously, do you guys have a mirror or something?
Of course you do.
SLOANE: Fascinating.
Never meet your heroes, McGee.
McGEE: I don't get it.
She doesn't act like this on the show.
Key word: "act.
" Yeah, but she's not an actor.
Reality shows Detach from reality.
Okay, Sheba, enough.
Sit down.
Can I talk to someone else?
What's that other agent's name, McGoo?
He's in there, right?
- Charming.
- McGoo?
I said sit down.
Fine.
Anyways, that's the camera you should be playing to.
Wait, you guys are recording this?
Hey, do you think my producers can get access to this tape?
Did you or did you not thr*aten your husband?
Let me save you a lot of time.
I don't know how to make a b*mb.
But you know who does?
My husband.
The Navy taught him.
He knows I check the mail.
Maybe he addressed the b*mb to himself to avoid suspicion.
Did you ever think of that?
She makes a good point.
Her husband's a trained k*ller, and he told Torres he wanted out of the marriage.
Just can't quit her, huh, McGoo?
(phones ringing, woman speaking indistinctly over P. A. )
(groans softly)
- sh**t.
- Oh.
I'll get that for you.
Oh, my goodness.
Do you mind if I just lean on you?
- Sure, whatever you need.
- Oh, thank you.
Oh.
Thank you.
It has been a mess today.
(both laugh)
I didn't eat.
Had to park three blocks away.
It took me 15 minutes to put on these pants.
(both laugh)
- Okay.
- Oh, thank God.
- Here you go.
- Thank you.
(sighs): Ah.
(sighs)
Look at us.
The walking wounded.
(both laugh)
What happened to you?
On-the-job injury.
Sorry.
What do you do?
- Government work.
- In D. C. ?
- No way.
(both laugh)
How about you?
- Middle school teacher.
- Ah.
Yeah.
My students think this is hilarious.
- So what happened?
- Oh, it involved two piña coladas and a diving board.
(laughs)
I was more flexible in college.
Hey.
We all were.
Mallory?
That is my cue.
- Let me get your bag for you.
Hi.
- Oh, thank you.
(sighs)
So we start with the torso.
Then we add the arms.
Next up, we have (strains): the legs.
(grunts)
And then we have the head.
You forgot the, uh, the eyes, nose and mouth.
No, no, I didn't.
I'm sorry, there's no face in hangman, Nick.
Oh, wow.
McGee already told you?
(elevator bell dings)
The man is not your friend.
I'll just leave it at that.
You'll leave what at what?
Maybe I should just leave.
I asked Agent Torres to come down here and help me identify some of these tats; I thought some of them might be g*ng-related.
- No, they're not.
Yeah.
I know that now.
As for cause of death, no surprise there.
I am calling this one "Mail-order death.
" GIBBS: What is this?
Found this embedded in one of the victims' thighs.
I think it might be a timing mechanism.
- Melted in the heat.
- Right.
This b*mb packed quite a punch, Gibbs.
Someone wanted Petty Officer Nicholas very dead.
Here's another one.
Sheba is "soulless, vapid, shallow" "Disgraceful, shameful, embarrassing" McGEE: "The most ratchet hair I've seen on a rich person"?
I guess fans saw through her act.
TV viewers can be pretty savvy.
Well, how did Delilah and I miss it?
- You missed what?
- Well, boss, we're doing a deep dive into the R-WOW forums looking for suspects.
The R-What?
Real Wives of w*r.
Turns out the Internet hates Sheba.
I agree with the Internet.
- What about the husband?
- As a suspect or target?
Target.
You know that all SEALs undergo demolitions training.
Yeah, and full psych evals, McGee.
A SEAL did not do this.
We found only four online threats against the husband.
All posted nine months ago by the same person.
"Sheba deserves a better man "than her warmongering husband, who needs to die on the b*ttlefield.
" Oh, I've heard way worse than that.
GIBBS: "LLL" "LLLeonardo"?
Oh, real name is Leonard Finnik.
Lives in Baltimore.
You want us to pay him a visit?
Oh, come on, guys.
Anybody can say anything on the Internet.
I myself have posted major shade on Shakira when she released She Wolf.
You remember the album, right, Gibbs?
I didn't have any federal agents asking me questions.
You drive safe, Torres.
Take McGee with you.
Two hours here and two hours home, and for what?
We got to turn every stone.
(knocks)
Come on, man.
You look at this guy's file?
This guy's Mr.
Normal.
Look, he's got a welcome mat.
No mad bomber in the history of mad bombers has a welcome mat.
And you know this how?
Everyone knows this.
(knocks)
TORRES: Leonard?
Federal agents.
We're coming in.
See, no Unabomber vibe here.
Eek.
This guy does have bad taste in music, though.
Yeah, says the man who hates Shakira.
Hey, I love Shakira.
I love Shakira.
Just venting.
Kitchen's clear.
So what'd you write her, exactly?
Bathroom's clear.
Tim, that is between me and Shakira.
Bedroom is clear.
Well, so much for Mr.
Normal, huh?
"I know you've been watching me.
I'm here whenever you want me.
We belong together forever.
" TORRES: Wow.
Forever is a very long time.
Do you want to tell Delilah, or should I?
Ha.
No, these are from our suspect, Leonard Finnik.
He's been sending Sheba love letters for months.
And stuffed animals, too.
I thought maybe this can help with your investigation.
Wha-- you kept gifts from your stalker?
Well, a fan's a fan.
I'm sure you've read some of the things they say about me online.
I take what I can get.
Besides, you should read what Leonard writes about my - Give me an update.
TORRES: Oh, McGee was just getting it.
Boss, Sheba brought in a box of letters from Leonard Finnik.
He's got a bee in his bonnet for Petty Officer Nicholas.
Talks about how "the enemy must be vanquished," calls him the "villain SEAL.
" And I've got another eight boxes in my trunk.
- Heavy boxes.
- Oh, I got them.
Torres, handle it.
Uh, probably a better idea, boss.
You got a location?
No, not yet.
Uh, Finnik has no record, no car, no job.
- He have a cell phone?
- Yes, but - Yes, but what?
BISHOP: Uh, yes.
Normally, we would ping it, but that meeting you missed this morning?
No more pinging.
(elevator bell dings)
Find some other way to get ahold of Leonard.
Sure.
I'll just use black magic.
(groans)
Oh, come on, this could be so easy.
I'll just ping this one time and then never again.
What about "privacy outweighs security"?
- There are no atheists in foxholes.
- Oh.
Vance never would've signed off on this.
Well, when he comes back, you should talk to him.
If he gets back, you mean.
Do you know something I don't?
All I know is that reentry is a bitch.
Yeah, I just finished.
KAYLA: How'd it go?
Uh, it went well.
You're headed to work now, right?
No, no.
I'm way too sore to go to work.
Uh Dad, you promised.
Kayla, we're not gonna go through this again, okay?
Whatever.
Bye.
I told you, we Hello?
Just tell her pain is progress.
Hey, there.
Um, Mallory, right?
Good memory.
How'd your appointment go, uh Leon.
Um Ava b*at me up pretty good, but nothing I can't handle.
Oh, I'm sure you'll be running marathons in no time.
(both laugh)
Maybe half-marathons.
How are you?
I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines.
Still a long road ahead for me.
- Hmm.
AVA: Okay, Leon.
Nice working with you.
Um, you, too, uh, Ava.
What, are you, are you leaving?
No, you are.
- They didn't tell you?
- No.
You graduated.
No more PT for you.
Wow.
Congratulations.
Well, thanks.
Um, I like your confidence, but I, um, still have a little hitch in my get along here.
Some residual pain is normal.
But it shouldn't stop you getting back to your routine.
- You're cleared for work, too.
- Huh.
Uh Yeah.
Because, uh because I-I really, I-I really feel like I could use another-another week of PT.
Well, if you need it, you need it.
Okay.
All right.
Same time tomorrow?
All right.
Every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in.
- Kase?
- Gibbs, you're just in time.
Open the box.
What's in it?
A b*mb.
Just open it.
My first b*mb.
Neat, huh?
(electrical whirring)
(sound effect crackles, pops, whistles)
Boom.
(laughs)
I built a replica based on the components I found among the fragments.
There's the power source and the trigger mechanism.
- Photo cell.
Rigged to explode when it detects light.
Two caps, two fire-sets.
Redundancies to ensure detonation.
This guy knew what he was doing.
This guy?
Well, I assume all bombers are dudes.
Right.
Never assume.
Yeah.
And never say "dudes.
" What else you got?
I analyzed this object Jimmy found embedded in our victim's leg.
Metal alloy plated with 22-karat gold.
It came from our b*mb, but I can't figure out its function.
Ooh, and look at the back.
See how it's raised?
Maybe that part came from a clasp or a pin.
Call me crazy, but this looks like a brooch.
Oh, you're not exactly a brooch guy.
(chuckles)
It's, um, it's a piece of jewelry, like a clip, that you wear on your lapel.
Like a fancy, older lady might.
You know, it's probably not a brooch at all.
I should probably just keep working.
Toodle-oo.
(chuckles)
McGEE: First, I had to track Leonard's credit card to the stationery store.
Right?
Then I had to go through the store's parking lot surveillance security footage to find the car he drove-- his mom's, by the way.
Then I had to sift through red light cameras to track him to this barber shop.
It's called work, brah.
It's unnecessary work.
I could've just pinged him.
Rules are rules, Mr.
Hangman.
- Look, hey, just bec - McGee.
What's he carrying?
- Leonard.
-Yes?
Federal agents.
Drop the box.
McGEE: Wait, no.
Don't drop the box.
Right.
Don't-don't drop the box.
Excuse me, everyone, federal agents.
Please calmly and quickly clear the area.
No, not you, Leonard.
You get back here.
Don't move.
Bishop, b*mb squad, Lemon and Fifth.
b*mb squad?
Wait, for this?
- Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Stop, stop!
- Don't!
Get down!
Huh.
That's the Little Bighorn River, and that's a pronghorn deer, and an otter and, uh, that's me and, uh Sheba and your love child.
Yeah, we've been over this.
Leonard.
I need to talk to you about your bedroom.
This is the hollowed-out log for fishing or, you know Leonard.
Focus.
Bedroom.
Oh, do you like it?
Sheba loves it.
- You talked to her?
- Yeah.
She told me in a dream the other night.
No, she didn't.
Uh, were you there?
Dreams are not reality, Leonard.
You are so naive.
Okay.
All right, explain this to me.
So this is you?
LEONARD: Right.
Yeah, yeah.
That's Sheba.
LEONARD: Uh-huh.
Pretty hair.
And that is a dead buffalo.
LEONARD: Correct.
That's correct.
Who is the dead buffalo?
Is that Sheba's husband, Petty Officer Nicholas?
Leonard.
Did Sheba ask you to k*ll her husband in that dream?
Episode 33, just after the commercial about the tortilla chips, Sheba's white shirt isn't ironed.
And she just gives me the littlest nod, like so.
She goes Wow.
Yeah.
What does that mean?
It means nothing.
You don't think he's our guy?
His cord doesn't quite reach the outlet, but I've read his file and he has never shown a propensity towards v*olence and I doubt he would start now.
So, should we go rescue Torres?
We got a problem.
Another mail b*mb just detonated.
What?
Where?
Alexandria.
One dead.
Same M. O. as the first b*mb and this one came by one-hour delivery.
Leonard's been in here for two.
Yeah, which means We've got a serial bomber on the loose.
Two bombs, three victims.
Will there be more?
That's the question paralyzing the city today as pressure mounts on NCIS, which has taken the lead in the investigation, even as the agency's director remains on extended medic We don't make news.
Update.
McGEE: Second bombing victim was Patricia Everett.
48 years old, divorced, two kids in college.
Package was delivered via Global Courier's one-hour delivery service.
Everett was the recipient.
- Who's the sender?
- Fake.
Just like the last one.
GIBBS: What's the connection with our targets?
BISHOP: Nothing yet.
Uh, no mutual friends, no social media overlap and no six degrees of Kevin Bacon and we've looked.
Look harder.
What if there is no connection?
What if the bomber is picking his targets from the phone book?
"Hey, Gibbs.
"Need to talk about second b*mb.
" Oh, wait.
Oh, not a texter.
Ah.
Stupid.
- What we got?
- Oh.
We can do this again if you'd like.
No, um, sorry.
(chuckles)
Uh, so I ran a chemical analysis and was able to confirm both bombs were built by the same person.
Both contained identical isomers of nitrocellulose, trinitrobenzene and acetone peroxide.
TNB?
That's m*llitary ordinance.
Oh, yes, indeed.
Oh, also, I found a second brooch, which, if you recall, a brooch is a - Yeah.
Yeah, yeah, I recall.
Again, I can find no function that this serves in the b*mb.
It's the bomber's signature.
Okay, yeah, well, what's he trying to say with it?
Budweiser.
Budweiser?
Thank you.
Thank you.
What happened exactly?
Kasie Hines, no, no.
You stay here.
You're gonna find out what happened soon enough.
TORRES: The Budweiser.
The coveted trident pin awarded to all Navy SEALs upon graduation.
BISHOP: And you think that's a melted trident?
The bombs are SEAL related.
But we've been over this.
Pat Everett has no connection to the Navy.
And we vetted all 20 Navy SEALs that were in Petty Officer Nicholas's graduating class.
What about the ones who rang out?
It's a bigger list.
Hold on.
Um 204 candidates washed out.
How many made it through demolition training?
That should narrow it down.
Only 16.
How many of those 16 failed their psych eval?
Only one.
Put him up.
Hmm.
David West.
He washed out about four months ago.
Now lives in West Virginia where he works security at a mall.
McGEE: Look at that.
The psychologist that administered West's psych eval was a Dr.
Patrick Everett.
Sound familiar?
The second b*mb victim was Patricia Everett.
Can't be a coincidence.
Either our bomber really hates the Everett family Don't know if they're related.
or he k*lled the wrong Pat Everett.
Where is West right now?
Pinging his cell phone.
Boss, let me just say that I think this new nonpinging policy sucks.
McGee, we got the mall.
Bishop, Torres, take his house.
Let's go.
Hi.
How are you, Kayla?
Oh.
I-I called Gibbs.
And he called me.
How's your dad?
Not great.
It's like he's lost his mojo or something.
Well, we'll have to help him get it back.
Yeah.
Jack?
- Hey, Leon.
How you doing?
- Hey.
Okay.
- Good to see you.
- You, too.
You, too.
Oh.
(laughs)
Handy.
Oh, sh**t.
Home improvement project.
I got a sticky window in the guest room.
Something else in this house won't budge.
And to what do we owe this visit?
Was just in the area, wanted to see how you're doing.
I'm better every day.
I'm looking forward to getting back into the office.
Mm-hmm.
You weren't "in the area," were you?
And you're not "better every day," are you?
And I have you to thank for this?
Who wants coffee?
I do.
Thank you.
So, tell me everything.
What's happening?
Yeah, why don't we skip all the pleasantries and you can tell me why you're really here?
Okay.
Want to just rip that Band-Aid off fast?
Fine with me.
You were tricked by a t*rror1st, Leon.
You made a bad decision that nearly cost thousands of lives and now you are coping with that mistake by practicing avoidance and social withdrawal.
How about that?
(chuckles)
I am rehabbing my hip.
That's all.
That's blame shifting.
Normal defense mechanism for someone in your condition, by the way.
Jack, I'm fine.
No, you're afraid.
You don't trust your instincts anymore.
Not good for someone who makes life or death decisions every day and that fear can be paralyzing, Leon.
I always thought that psychologists would examine their patients before providing diagnosis.
Ah, no, we don't have time for that, so I just thought I'd skip to the end.
And I'm sure you have just the right prescription.
As a matter of fact, I do.
In my professional opinion you need to get your ass back in the saddle.
Thanks for stopping by, Jack.
Leon, listen.
Hey.
You want a real project to do around the house?
The agency that you lead is trying to stop a serial bomber.
Everything you need to know about the suspect.
David West?
TORRES: Wait.
NCIS!
Mr. West, we just have a few questions!
Easy, easy, easy.
g*n!
Okay.
I don't think he wants to talk to us.
He can talk to my SIG.
- Ready?
One - Yeah.
two - Nick.
Go.
Go!
Go!
Okay.
SWAT team's on the way.
Gibbs and McGee are coming back from the mall.
- They should be here any minute.
All right?
- All right.
Now, let me take a look at this.
(groans)
Ow, ow.
Ooh How bad is it?
Uh, it's not great, Nick.
Ooh.
- Oh, Bishop!
- Shrapnel's in there pretty deep.
Oh, that's peachy.
Okay.
Cut it out.
You're not serious.
Yes, I'm serious.
Cut it out.
- No, Nick.
- This guy tried to k*ll me, okay?
I'm about to try to k*ll him, but I can't do it with that thing in my back, so just-just dig it out.
- Okay.
Fine.
You're an idiot.
Wait, what's that for?
I'm sterilizing my tool.
Here.
Bite onto this.
Oh.
Oh, we're doing this.
Can you make up your mind already?
Well, I'm just saying that maybe-maybe that guy is gone.
I-I didn't hear him sh**t for, like, a little bit.
Oh, the guy is gone.
Are you What are you doing?
What are you doing?
(g*nsh*t)
He's still there.
That was my favorite hat.
Can are we gonna do this or what?
- Okay, I'm ready.
I'm ready, I'm ready.
- Okay.
- One, two McGEE: Hey, Torres.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!
- The cavalry's here.
- What?
- What is he doing?
- Uh, no idea.
BISHOP: Where did he go?
Where's Gibbs?
(grunting)
Okay, I got him, boss.
Bishop and Torres?
Oh, they're okay.
Bishop!
Torres!
Cease fire, we're on the way out!
Nice hat.
In times of w*r and uncertainty, there is a special breed of warrior ready to answer our nation's call.
A common man with an uncommon desire to succeed Director Vance.
Special Agent Gibbs.
Good to see you.
Good to be here.
special breed of warrior ready to answer our nation's call.
The Navy SEAL creed.
He's been reciting it for the last hour.
He built his whole life around becoming a SEAL.
When he washed out, he had nothing to fall back on.
You read his file.
Three times.
DAVID: My word is my bond.
I've had some time on my hands.
DAVID: and be led.
In the absence of orders, I will take charge, lead my teammates and accomplish the mission.
I lead by example in all situations.
I will never quit.
I persevere and thrive on adversity.
My nation expects me to You recognize that?
Maybe you don't, since you never earned one, but it's a Budweiser, trident pin.
It's a real one, unlike the knockoffs you purchased at the Navy surplus store and packed into your mail bombs.
Sorry.
Budweisers are for SEALs only.
And you washed out.
Dr. Everett made a mistake, sir.
So you sent him a b*mb?
Along with one to Petty Officer Nicholas, who red-flagged you for a psych exam?
They got what they deserved, ma'am.
No, they didn't.
Nicholas is still alive, and you k*lled the wrong Everett.
Mission failed.
You win some, you lose some.
The hell is he so smug about?
Why don't you go find out?
You read his file three times.
Director Vance, welcome Ba-- Where's he going?
Are you having a good time?
Sir?
You want to tell me what's so funny?
We train for w*r and fight to win.
I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power to bear in order to achieve my mission and the goals established by my country.
You've been looking at your watch a lot.
Are you late for something, David?
The execution of my abilities will be swift and violent when required Or am I?
the very principles that I serve to defend.
Brave men have fought and d*ed building the proud tradition You sent a third b*mb, didn't you?
Who is the third target?
Who is it?
Who else wronged you?
Could it have been another SEAL classmate?
20 of them graduated.
Yeah, go.
That's a nice tan line.
Where's the ring?
David, you just got married.
Where's your wedding band?
WOMAN: Thanks.
It's the wife.
Gwen Eisley.
Married five months ago.
She walked out on you, huh?
Where's she staying?
She at her mother's house in Alexandria?
Or maybe she's staying at her brother's in Philly?
Or she's staying at her sister's in Middleburg?
Sister's in Middleburg.
Don't play poker in prison, David.
You have a tell.
(phone ringing)
Leave a message.
(phone ringing)
(scoffs)
What?
What?
So the wife finally answered her cell?
Fifth time's a charm.
How'd she react to the news her hubby mailed her a b*mb?
She asked if she could "return to sender.
" Ah, McGee, look.
ANNOUNCER: and coming up tonight on Real Wives of w*r, Sheba radiates in red.
Oh, whoa.
Trouble in paradise?
You know what?
I think I'm done with The Real Wives of w*r.
Good for you.
Yeah.
You can do better things with your life.
Totally agree.
There's this new show about cops in Miami Beach (groans)
McGee.
Not where you were going with that?
- Okay.
TORRES: He's back, baby.
- Hey.
- Can't keep me down.
How was surgery?
Oh, it was a breeze.
Shrapnel's all out.
Told you it was just a flesh would.
Ah.
So I could've cut it out.
Oh, no, that was a real bad idea.
Yeah, that's what I said.
30 seconds.
You'll be happy, I promise.
- Doubt it.
- One word: ping.
You took away his superpower.
Because you didn't let me finish my presentation.
Yes, the Supreme Court banned warrantless cell location tracking AKA no ping.
which is why we have arranged for three on-call judges to provide near-instantaneous warrants should the need arise.
- Hm.
- Wait, what does that mean?
Means we are back in business, baby.
You're welcome.
She's very sweet.
- Yeah.
- Very.
Yeah, when she's nice like that, yeah.
Okay, Cameron, I'll see you Thursday.
Hey, Leon, you can change in back.
Oh, uh, actually, Ava, I'm not taking therapy today, or ever, I'm, uh, I'm canceling my appointments.
Cancel the appointments you demanded?
Requested.
But you were right, my range of motion's good, and I can continue the exercises at home.
Okay, I'll cancel them.
You know, you could've just called.
I was in the neighborhood.
Uh-huh.
I don't think she's here yet.
Who?
(chuckles)
Well, well, well.
Leon.
But no, uh, no more cast.
Nope, just the crutches now.
What about you?
I barely notice a limp.
I graduated.
No more PT.
- Oh, congratulations.
- Thank you.
Well, good luck with your life, I guess.
Hey, um How would you How would you like to, um, see each other, somewhere that's not here?
- I'd like that.
- Great.
Waterskiing, mountain climbing, what do you think?
(both laugh)
Or we could just do dinner tonight.
Dinner sounds good.
Give me your phone.
My phone?
Why?
- So I can put my number in it.
- Oh, geez.
I'm a little little rusty here.
So any, um, any requests for dinner?
How about someplace without stairs?
Duly noted.
Ground-floor restaurant.
All right.
- I'll-I'll call you.
- Okay.
- Bye.
- Bye.
Nice work.
Thank you.
What's your assessment?
I don't know yet, but I will.
Hm.
Well done.
How long are we surveilling him?
As long as it takes.
Enjoy your dinner.
(both chuckle)
Hey.
You forgetting something?
You don't want to make that mistake tonight.
You worry about you.
I'll worry about me.