16x04 - Third Wheel

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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16x04 - Third Wheel

Post by bunniefuu »

(siren wailing)

Suspect last seen headed south on Redbird Road.

TROOPER FORMAN: Copy that.

You got a visual?

Negative, lost sight about a mile back.

This guy's cooking with gas and headed right for you, Bill.

Keep your eyes open.

TROOPER FORMAN: Like driving a hog to slaughter.

(laughs)

Whoo-hoo!

Whoa!

(siren chirps)

What the hell are you doing?

I thought you said this guy was headed south.

He was.

Oh, come on, you let him pass you?

Nothing gets past me.

Except a blue Mustang doing 90, male driver, just ripped off an armored truck?

Nothing gets past me.

Look at that.

Come on.

Come on!

State Police.

Hands on the wheel!

(engine running)

Minimal damage.

Engine's still running.

Where the hell is he going?

Call the Navy.

- Now!

- Yes, sir.

NCIS 16x04 Third Wheel "Excessive supply.

" Four letters.

Glut.

Huh.

Thanks.

Hey, Tim, you mind if I put on my music again?

No, go right ahead, man.

(music plays)

Oh, yeah.

Ooh.

(phone rings)

Special Agent McGee.

I am sorry, he is out of the office for the week, but I can take a message.

Great.

No problem.

"Leading cause of anxiety.

" Six letters, ends in "S.

" BOTH: Gibbs.

No, that's only five letters.

Stress.

The word is "stress.

" - Same thing.

- You know, years as a special agent, and Gibbs never takes personal leave.

And then barely eight weeks of filling in as the director and he's (clicks tongue)

out the door first chance he gets.

Paperwork is worse than dead bodies.

Mm.

The man deserves a break.

Actually, I think he should do it more often.

Why, because McGee lets you play music?

Well, Tim is so much nicer.

(chuckles)

Ooh, this is my favorite part.

(music volume increases)

- Hey, Bishop.

- Hmm?

I'm coming for you.

'Cause I want you Touch me here, touch me there (laughing)

Stop.

Touch me everywhere, oh, yeah Okay.

(phone rings)

McGee.

Um, yes, sir.

I'm sorry.

I-I can't hear you.

Thinking 'bout the things I wanna do How long?

Okay, we're on it.

I've been a bad girl lately All right, dance party's over.

(music stops)

There's been a robbery.

- Where?

- North Carolina.

Shouldn't the Carolinas Field Office handle that?

They did.

Check the NCIC.

BISHOP: Okay.

Oh, someone stole $350,000 from an armored truck, and then fled onto a Naval air station.

Not very smart.

Base security will be all over him.

Can't find him, even after a lockdown and search.

Why would they call us?

Before the lockdown, a Navy transport plane took off.

They think the thief could be on board.

Yeah, it was immediately diverted to Andrews, and it lands in 20 minutes.

Ooh, 20 minutes across town?

Talk about stress.

Well, at least Gibbs can still enjoy his break.

Mmm.

(vehicle approaching)

(car door closes)

(knocking)

Gibbs!

Tobias.

Called your office.

They said that you were taking a few days off.

Acting director?

Yikes.

I figured you'd come up here to get away from it all.

I did.

Good for you.

You deserve a break.

- What do you want?

- To see you happy.

My house is being bug-bombed, so I need a place to crash.

I let you stay on my couch when your place had termites.

They were your termites.

What are best friends for?

Ha, that's what I said.

Gibbs, that outhouse needs new magazines and softer toilet paper.

Phil Brooks.

Nice to meet you.

Tobias Fornell.

I didn't realize I was interrupting.

You both are.

I already apologized for my misunderstanding.

I recently sold my house in a divorce, and the new apartment's not ready till next week.

I called Gibbs to crash; he said he was staying at the cabin.

GIBBS: It was a fact, not an invitation.

I didn't see your car.

Uber.

I only got here ten minutes before you.

What are the chances?

Yeah.

Who knew that Gibbs had multiple best friends?

It's funny, uh, he's never mentioned you.

- Or you.

- Huh.

Carl was it?

(chuckles)

It's Phil.

Phil.

Yeah.

Phil Brooks.

Phil Brooks.

Phil's good.

Phil's good.

PRASAD: Agent McGee, Commander Prasad, X. O.

McGEE: Thanks for meeting us.

PRASAD: None too soon.

Your plane just touched down.

The flight was headed for Southcom in Peru.

Loaded with humanitarian supplies, no passengers.

Crew thinks they're here for additional cargo.

They could be accomplices.

If your robber's on this plane, it was not with the help of Navy personnel.

I guarantee that.

TORRES: Line up over here, please.

And, uh, no talking.

All right, flight deck is clear.

Aft wells are clear.

Cargo area is secured, pallets are sealed.

What the hell is going on, sir?

A grave misunderstanding.

PRASAD: Looks like your robber found another way off that air station.

Well, we still need to talk to the crew.

Nick.

Guys, let's chat.

PRASAD: Look, Agent McGee, unless you have proof that your robber was on this plane BISHOP: McGee?

Got something.

Hey.

I got blood.

And torn fabric.

Looks like a piece of our robber.

Where's the rest of him?

KASIE: Since records began in 1947, there have been over a hundred documented wheel well stowaways.

Hmm.

So it's actually possible.

Oh, more than possible.

I mean, especially on a plane this size.

The nose well of the Hercules is comparatively roomy.

No peanuts or oxygen.

I didn't say it was safe.

Well, our guy did lose a finger.

Must have pinched after takeoff.

Ouch.

But survivable.

Uh, well finger folly aside, three out of four wheel well stowaways die in midair, either due to lack of oxygen or the extreme cold.

Temperatures at altitude can drop to negative 40.

Oof.

Bad way to travel.

Kind of like a unicycle.

Unless you've got cold-weather gear, an oxygen t*nk and a parachute.

Yeah, sure.

Then a wheel well is a pretty ingenious way to disappear to South America without a trail.

Very Jason Bourne.

Till the plane was diverted.

Which leaves us with two options.

Either our guy fell out with no parachute, and we're looking for a dead pancake Or he jumped and is still alive somewhere.

I'm still working on that.

So, what about an I. D. ?

Or are you just searching for Matt Damon?

Police never got a good look at the robber, and the car was stolen.

Fingerprints.

They didn't find any.

Yeah, no, but we did.

The severed finger, right.

Uh, it's down in Autopsy, thawing.

The Fishlord 2000 came out two years ago, but it didn't have GPS capabilities or social media app support.

This model does.

Because this is the Fishlord 3000.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Let's reel 'em in!

(laughs)

Spared no expense.

Why?

For Gibbs and me to use on the lake.

No.

Why are you two friends?

I said.

He helped build my boat.

No, I got that.

It's the stuff about Twitter and expensive fish finders where I get lost.

Have you met Gibbs?

He's a troglodyte.

No offense.

Too late.

- What are these for?

- Keys to my house.

Knock yourselves out.

You want us to stay there?

You're not staying here.

Well it was good to meet you, Fred.

(sighs)

It's Phil.

And he was talking to both of us.

No, he wasn't.

I know the man.

So do I.

Gibbs and I have shared a lot.

Have you shared an ex-wife?

No.

(scoffs)

Is that a brag?

I'm just saying that I know the man intimately.

Oh, wait.

(chuckles)

You're jealous.

- What?!

- Yeah.

No!

Yes.

It's just that if you were really friends, you'd know that Gibbs hates electronics in the cabin.

Especially hunting aids.

And don't get me started on phones.

But it's my first time up here.

Exactly.

So why don't you sit this one out, Skippy?

Well, you got a car.

I'm stuck here.

I will call you a taxi.

Signal is always a little bit spotty here.

(wood clatters)

No.

No, no, no, no.

No.

That wasn't for pleasure, Gibbs.

That was an emergency!

You were right.

He does hate electronics at the cabin.

He's pretty mad at you.

(sighs)

Sir, by 7:10 we were climbing to 30,000 feet at a little over 300 miles an hour.

Still with nothing to report.

Lieutenant Holcomb, you had an unauthorized passenger on that plane, your plane, and we're trying to figure out how he got there.

Then stop accusing me and my crew of being involved!

You notice anything unusual this morning?

Nope.

We make that flight every month, (phone rings)

like clockwork.

Hello?

Your ground crew.

They might have seen something.

Everyone on that tarmac has a job to do.

Looking for stowaways isn't one of them.

I mean, who the hell would be that stupid?

I think we're about to find out.

On my way back, Jimmy.

Nail pitting can be a sign of psoriasis or inflammatory arthritis.

Uh, no doubt the tropical South American climate would ease the pain.

What, you think this guy risked his life for better skin?

Vitamin supplements are much safer.

Jimmy, you said you had a print?

Just one sec.

Almost done.

Uh, Dr. Mallard, would you start for me?

- Gladly.

This is the right index finger of a fully grown adult male.

After thawing the digit, and separating fabric from flesh, Dr.

Palmer rehydrated the tissue with injections of saline.

It's a common procedure.

It's outlined in Dr.

Mallard's book.

Volume one comes out next week.

Oh, that's right.

Congrats, Duck.

JIMMY: It's exciting, huh?

They even asked him to go on a signing tour.

DUCKY: It's only being sold at lesser colleges with a specialized medical examiner program.

I politely declined.

But I am scheduling all of his flights.

Jimmy, I thought you were working on the fingerprint.

Yeah, it's on the list.

Right now, I am sending Dr.

Mallard on the trip of a lifetime.

It is six weeks worth of dramatic readings, autographs.

Here's the itinerary.

Tell him he should go.

- What?

- (mouths)

You know, Duck, I loved doing my book tours for Deep Six.

People really love putting a face to the words.

Especially the groupies.

Define "groupies.

" Eager, attractive fans of your work.

Well, upper New York State is at its best this time of the year.

Yes, perhaps I should talk this over with my agent.

Where's my phone?

Ah.

Uh, excuse me.

Dr. Mallard stayed to help after the director was kidnapped.

But really, he's just been wandering around, uh, constantly looking over my shoulder.

Is it wrong for me to help him find a new project?

Jimmy, fingerprint.

Oh, I already sent it up to Kasie.

What?

Why did you call me?

(chuckles): Uh, I needed your help with Dr. Mallard.

Gibbs would m*rder you.

I know.

You are so much nicer.

BISHOP: Robber's stolen car arrives at 6:39 a. m.

- He parks and waits.

- Got tinted windows.

You can't see a face.

BISHOP: The armored truck arrives at 6:53.

TORRES: You got one guard.

BISHOP: A payday loan shop in the middle of Nowhere, Carolina is not a high priority.

TORRES: It will be now.

Wow.

350 grand in four and a half seconds.

That's not bad.

BISHOP: He knew the delivery schedule and he was careful.

TORRES: That flight suit helped him blend in on the base.

Could this guy be m*llitary?

We need a name to match that finger.

It's been classified.

By who?

The FBI.

We got an exact match in the system, but to access the file, we have to be read in, in person.

- The FBI is coming here?

- Yeah.

KASIE: Turn those frowns upside down.

You got fingerprint info?

Oh, no.

That is not the reason for the smiles.

I found our robber.

I mean, kind of, kind of-- the general area.

Okay.

According to the black box recorder, the landing gear only extended on approach to D. C.

The robber could have parachuted anytime before landing.

That's 60 miles of north-south approach with about three miles of east-west drift for a parachute descent.

Needle, meet haystack.

Yes.

But since no one reported a random parachute on their morning commute, (chuckles)

and there was nothing on social media Our robber avoided populated areas.

Which would mean he jumped as soon as the landing gear doors opened.

Which would put him somewhere around here.

BISHOP: Well, okay, slightly smaller haystack.

TORRES: You mean forest.

Yeah, and still too big to cover on foot.

But we can alert park rangers and set up roadblocks.

Right, McGee?

These road names, they-they look familiar.

Wait, is this Brossard County?

- - Yes.

No.

What?

What's in Brossard County?

Gibbs, and his cabin.

Oh.

Ooh.

Yeah, but you said the search grid is-is huge.

Yeah, but we should still warn him.

We're gonna interrupt his vacation?

No, man.

He doesn't want to talk to us.

(phone ringing)

Special Agent McGee.

Hey, boss, uh, we were just talking about you.

Damn.

That's just that's next level.

You're going out to search for a missing bank robber in the middle of nowhere?

You used my phone to call NCIS?

Hey.

That was an emergency.

You were looking for an excuse to get out of here.

Gibbs, the chances of you finding this guy are a million to one.

So you're just gonna leave us?

Yes.

Well, I was an Eagle Scout.

I was a trained federal agent.

Hmm.

(overlapping chatter)

- Ooh.

- Ooh.

Ah.

Gibbs!

Wait Up!

Hey, Gibbs!

All right, so where are we?

Well, Gibbs happily volunteered to search miles of remote forest.

Said he needed the distraction.

From his vacation?

- Roadblocks?

- State Police have been notified, but are you sure he didn't want to wait for the Forestry Service?

Gibbs is Gibbs.

Did you talk to the NSA?

Yeah.

Thermal-imaging satellites won't be in place for hours.

(phone vibrating)

Sorry, Suze.

Forgot to turn it off.

Uh-oh.

You think the FBI knows that this case deals with stolen federal money, and crosses state lines?

Safe bet.

They're gonna take over.

Well, don't let them.

Do what Gibbs does.

Such as?

For starters, stop being so nice.

(birds chirping)

(panting)

I win!

I made it to the top of the ridge first.

Phil wasn't even close.

You see anything?

I know what you're doing.

Using us against each other for your own benefit.

Did you see anything?

(chuckles)

You were right.

You can see the whole valley from up there.

I saw some fabric caught in a tree a couple of miles due east.

It's got to be the parachute, right?

Hey.

What took you so long, Pokey?

I'm built for comfort, not speed.

He told you about the parachute?

Yeah.

Guess this thing finds fish, not bad guys.

Hey, put that back.

We may need it if I run out of protein bars.

Come on, let's get out of here.

- Does it keep score?

- Of what?

Me, one; you, zero.

Oh, very funny.

Give it back.

You want a tip, Agent Monet?

Call me Izzy.

And, yes, please.

- Izzy.

- Mm?

Take a bus tour.

Like a tourist?

Yeah, the cheesier the better.

You'll see all the landmarks, and then you're gonna learn how to use those to, uh, to navigate.

Smart.

I'd rather have someone show me around.

Do you know anybody?

Well, Izzy, that depends.

Do you like motorcycles?

Hello.

Special Agent Timothy McGee, NCIS.

Isabel Monet, FBI.

This is our case.

Wow, you were not kidding.

(chuckles)

I'm not here to take over the case.

You told her?

- She has a nice smile.

- (laughs softly)

I just recently transferred from our San Diego office.

I'm not used to people being so uptight about jurisdiction.

Or life, in general.

Well, you'll get there.

- Hmm.

- Now, about our fingerprint match?

Down to business.

That is so East Coast.

Meet Franklin Poe.

You were not able to access his info because he's part of the Federal Witness Protection Program.

Is he a scared bunny or a dirty rat?

Poe's a rat.

He was busted three years ago as part of a high-profile heist in Las Vegas.

Agreed to testify against his buddies for a plea deal.

Hence witness protection.

We set him up in North Carolina managing a shoe store.

It's not sexy, but safe.

I guess he had second thoughts.

Waves break, but they don't change course.

Do you surf?

It's funny you should ask that.

- I - Is this it?

Am I missing something?

No.

It just seems that you could've told us this over the phone, or maybe e-mailed the file.

You got me.

Uh, there's actually another reason that I came in person.

- I, um, I - Izzy?

Jackie-Jack!

There's my little beach bum.

3,000 miles, and trouble still finds me.

How about that?

It's nice to see you, too.

Uh-huh.

Slow down, Bear Grylls!

Who's Pokey now?

I was talking to Gibbs.

You can always turn back.

Show me the way to go home I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

Never mind.

I'm good.

I'm okay.

(branches snapping)

WOMAN: Who's there?

I thought I heard singing.

You did.

Bad singing.

You can go ahead and sh**t, but I'll go down swinging.

Special Agent Gibbs.

NCIS.

NCIS?

What is this, a company picnic?

Yeah.

You on your way out?

My truck is parked on the other side of the orchard there.

Name's Jane.

Looks like you caught some trout, Jane.

Yeah, trout.

A few crappie.

Worm?

My dad taught me to use canned corn.

I come up here every year to fish and to quit smoking and every year I'm only half successful.

Did you happen to see anybody else out here?

Maybe someone with nine fingers.

That's awfully specific.

Uh-uh.

No.

This have to do with that parachute I saw a little ways back?

Should I be worried?

Would you like an escort to your truck?

From you?

Or them?

Thanks.

I'll take my chances.

Oh, and that, uh, parachute, it's about two miles due south.

Just right off the trail there.

South?

I thought you said east.

FORNELL: I got us close.

I didn't hear anything from the Eagle Scout.

I don't know.

Sounds like that scoreboard's back to goose eggs.

I wanted to surprise you.

I've only been in town for two weeks.

I was starting to get a little bored, so I just thought this would be like old times.

You know?

Minus the good beaches.

We had fun.

Had.

What is your deal?

You're not still mad about Bodhi?

Oh, please.

(laughing): Look, I'm sorry that you got your heart broken, but I won fair and square.

Nothing with you is ever fair.

(chuckles)

Do you want to see a picture?

Wait.

You keep one with you?!

Girl can dream, right?

Put your phone away and get to the point or get out of my office.

Uh, if you two want to talk in private, I can just come back.

- That might be best, Ellie.

- Just wait.

I have been case agent on this since the beginning.

I just want to see it through.

And Jack, if our friendship interferes with that in any way, we don't have to interact.

Just pretend I didn't save your life in Bora Bora.

(stammers)

What, you two went to Bora Bora to surf?

Nobody goes to Bora Bora to surf.

Okay.

So then why does one go to Bora Bora?

The FBI gave you what we had.

I'm just asking that NCIS do the same thing.

To be clear, I saved you first.

Those waves were sick, brah.

(under breath): Shut up.

Just give her the file.

Give her the file.

Okay.

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Ugh.

She would be fun on karaoke night.

But I should probably double-check everything she just told us, right?

With extreme prejudice.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Oh, Jane wasn't kidding.

Good thing we followed her directions.

Could've sworn that parachute was near a clearing.

Just admit you were wrong.

Ooh, I got to use the little boy's room.

Again?

Hey, do you actually like hanging out with old raisin bladder?

GIBBS: That's a ram-air canopy.

That's not easy.

Our jumper has experience and a head start.

NCIS putting up roadblocks?

- 'Cause I am getting no signal.

- (Phil groans)

PHIL: A little help over here.

What now?

Does he want us to hold it for him?

PHIL: Gibbs!

I need your help!

- Come on.

Oh, no.

My leg!

Hey.

You okay?

I slipped and fell.

I think it's broken, Gibbs.

This guy.

Our scorecard needs negative integers.

Or a few more zeroes.

Because when I landed, I saw this in the branches.

FORNELL: You got to be kidding me.

The stolen money?

Our robber must've lost it during the jump.

You, zero; me, 350,000.

That's good work Phil.


(Phil groaning)

GIBBS: I got it.

(groans)

You always hike with duct tape?

GIBBS: Yeah.

You don't?

Just leave me behind, Gibbs.

We're getting you back to the cabin, Phil.

If that money is still in this forest, so is our robber.

He's gonna be looking for it and us.

I'll just slow you down.

Come on.

Get you up.

(grunts)

Oh, no, no.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Hey, what, your leg?

No, the Fishlord 3000.

It was in my bag when I fell.

Thank you.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Let's reel 'em in!

(chuckles)

Spared no expense.

(exhales)

Give me that thing.

Give me this.

Okay.

- All right.

- (panting): All right.

- Let's go.

- Ow.

Ow!

Oh, oh, oh, boy.

GIBBS: What?

Anybody bring bourbon?

What?

(sighs)

It's only because I feel sorry for you.

Oh.

- Let's go.

-Ow!

(groaning)

Slow down.

Oh.

Hey, boss.

Just, uh, checking in again.

Give us a call.

Tim, Gibbs is fine.

Gibbs is Gibbs.

Anything on those roadblocks?

Nothing.

And nothing from San Diego, either.

What's in San Diego?

Bodhi.

That's the guy that Agent Sloane and Agent Monet have been, uh, fighting over.

I e-mailed my buddy at Camp Pendleton.

Why?

To find out if Agent Monet has a type, man.

Maybe Bodhi's an agent.

Or just a surfer.

Or maybe both, like Keanu in Point Break.

You're getting warmer, Nick.

What?

She tell you the whole story?

- Yup.

- You gonna tell me?

Probably not.

Uh, WITSEC just sent over their file on Franklin Poe.

You and Sloane don't trust Agent Monet?

Or me, apparently.

McGEE: We're gonna need to know where Poe might be headed, other than South America.

Well, when someone enters Witness Protection, they have to forfeit all property and holdings.

Including their passport.

International travel is strictly prohibited.

Not if you're traveling by wheel well.

Well, I doubt it was his first choice.

SLOANE: He didn't have any options.

When the FBI transferred Poe to his new home, he specifically requested to drive, citing "fear of flying. " And parachuting's a big jump.

In many ways.

The guy had help.

On the ground or in the air?

Hey.

I thought Izzy said that she was the case agent.

Yeah, she did.

But her name isn't mentioned anywhere in this file.

Show me the way to go home I'm tired and I want to go to bed I had a little drink about an hour ago.

Little is right.

You had two drinks and you're drunk.

The Brookses are lightweights, historically speaking.

Sure I can't take another one of those bags, Gibbs?

Uh-uh, it balances the other dead weight and some god-awful singing.

It's true.

I am dead weight.

All three of us are, really.

Here we go.

Divorced.

Lonely.

Older.

Speak for yourself.

The clarity is uncanny.

- All we have is each other.

- Shh.

It's okay, Gibbs.

Let your feelings out.

Shh, shh.

(howling nearby)

Coyotes?

Sit down.

Stay here.

Watch him.

Gibbs, I I'll be right back.

Don't sh**t yourself, Hemingway.

Not Hemingway.

It's Brooks.

Phil Brooks.

And here we have my favorite room on the tour.

Four walls and a mirror is all you ever needed to break somebody, Jack.

I miss watching you work.

Then today's your lucky day.

(chuckles)

That's funny.

Are you gonna grill me about our bet on Bodhi?

Wait, they bet on guys?

That's weird.

But possibly hot.

(scoffs)

This isn't about old times, Izzy.

Please, have a seat.

Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

Then why don't you stop lying?

You haven't been on this case since the beginning.

You were only assigned this morning after NCIS got involved.

As usual, you're overanalyzing.

You came here to take advantage of our friendship.

Why?

And how dare you guilt-trip me with Bora Bora.

(sighs)

I know your pressure points, too.

Don't make me press.

Please press.

I was sent on damage control.

- Okay.

- Poe's robbery and escape look bad for the Bureau.

- Duh.

And?

And what you don't know, what nobody else knows, is that a former FBI agent might've helped him do it.

Who?

When Poe was put into Witness Protection, he ended up falling for his FBI handler, Anna Jenlowe.

The real case agent.

Yeah.

She eventually resigned and moved in with him.

It was unusual, but not illegal.

Until Poe disappeared.

That's the problem.

The FBI can't find her, either.

Well, I'll be damned.

This is the parachute that I saw from the ridge.

I am back on the board, baby.

Missing a finger.

Our escaped robber didn't survive the landing.

So who was in that other parachute?

Same person who did this.

(flies buzzing)

FORNELL: Coyotes found him.

Coyotes didn't s*ab him.

Now who do we know with a big-ass Kn*fe?

(g*nsh*t)

Tobias.

Damn it.

So there was a second person in that wheel well.

Call Gibbs.

AUTOMATED VOICE: This mailbox is full.

No.

Phil?

- Phil!

- Uh-uh.

Sorry, Gibbs.

I didn't hear her in time.

She was following us, and (sighs)

I'm a little drunk.

The g*n, toss it over.

No one else needs to die.

I didn't m*rder that camper.

He came at me.

- It was self-defense.

- Okay.

Come on in, explain it.

We've both told that lie.

Stop!

Stop trying to close the distance!

You're a cop?

I know there's no going back.

Don't even think about it.

Okay.

The only way now is forward.

The money.

Let him go.

Money first.

Gibbs, don't do it.

First time I agree with Phil.

If there's no going back, she'll just sh**t us all.

All right.

Okay.

A deal's a deal.

But damn, you should've listened to your friends.

(shouts)

(screams)

(groaning)

Well, ashes are cold.

Still no signal.

You really think Gibbs found something out there?

- Gibbs is Gibbs.

-(Phil groans)

- I got to sit down.

FORNELL: I should've known better.

Coming out here was a giant mistake.

PHIL: Oh, my leg is k*lling me.

TORRES: Whoa.

Wh-- Fornell, what happened?

A tree exploded in my face.

Would've been your chest exploding if I hadn't saved your life.

I take it these weren't camping injuries.

Hey, Gibbs, we got two jumpers.

Yeah, met them both.

Man's dead.

Woman, she's gone.

Said her name was Jane.

Anna Jenlowe.

Her photo's been added to the BOLOs and roadblocks.

That's her.

She's got a generous head start.

Get them both to the hospital.

- Oh, thank God.

- No, no, no, no.

I'm good.

Torres, give me your phone.

Let's go.

Where are you going, Gibbs?

She's long gone.

McGEE: She's had a pilot's license for 20 years, and her father was in the Air Force.

Amazing what you learn when the FBI's not holding back.

Anna Jenlowe practically grew up in an airplane.

Sneaking on that plane had to be her idea.

It could be how she plans to escape again.

Going back to the well?

So I'm running a list of old aliases she used as an agent.

(computer chirps)

Hmm.

Uh-oh, turns out I was right, but this time she is not sneaking.

She bought a ticket.

One of her FBI aliases is booked on a flight to Miami.

Ronda Popovich.

Purchased an hour ago from a cafe near Dulles.

We got to stop that plane.

I'm gonna call airport security.

Yeah.

Oh, better make it the FAA.

That flight took off six minutes ago.

(phone rings)

Hey, Nick.

GIBBS (over phone): Kasie.

- Oh, Gibbs!

GIBBS: Can you track a signal?

Yeah, of course I can.

Sure, no problem.

Agent McGee, that flight's already on its way to Miami.

Which is why we need to know if Anna Jenlowe is on board.

I thought the passenger name was "Ronda Popovich"?

It's a fake I. D.

She bought a ticket, but I need to confirm she actually made the flight.

That requires the airline manifest.

Yes, that's what I'm asking for.

Okay.

You could ask nicely.

You know what?

I'm done being nice.

We have a former FBI agent on the run and before it becomes a hostage situation, or even worse, I need to know that she actually made the damn plane, now.

I-- Right away, sir.

(knocking at door)

Put up the door camera.

- McGee!

- It appears to be Kasie Hines.

- You think?

Let her in.

- McGee, open up!

McGee!

(lock buzzes)

(exhales)

Sorry about the banging.

I'm still a temporary employee.

I don't have eyeball access.

What's wrong?

The ticket was just a diversion.

Our woman is not on that plane.

- You got the manifest?

- No, I just talked to Gibbs.

We just tracked Anna Jenlowe going south on a highway outside Manassas.

- Wait, what?

- It's a little unusual.

- All right, just tell me on the way.

- Yeah, okay.

(bell rings)

Excuse me?

TORRES: Be right there.

Hey.

What can I do for you?

Can I get $50 on pump seven, please, and a pack of Reds.

I don't mean to be rude, but you should rethink your choices.

Yeah, I know, smoking's bad for my health.

Yes, and so am I.

Uh-uh, uh-uh.

Let go.

You know, hiding under airplanes, m*rder, interrupting the boss's "me time" Those are all bad choices.

How the hell did you find me?

Spared no expense.

Hey, I hear they added GPS and social media to that new model.

AUTOMATED VOICE: Let's reel 'em in!

Now the FBI takes over?

After we close the case.

They get to control the story.

Agent McGee, you were right.

You'll have to be more specific.

I got used to that East Coast mentality.

Ah.

I was doing my job.

Has lying to me ever worked, Izzy?

It was worth a try.

I'm the new agent in town, I wanted to score some points.

Right.

We got into a lot of trouble back in the day, Jack.

Yeah, we did.

We still could.

(chuckles)

And, uh, here's that photo of Bodhi you were asking about, Nick.

I'll see you next week for that motorcycle tour.

What?

Oh, I don't I don't know what she's talking about.

Wait, Bodhi is not a man?

So much better than a man.

Bodhi is a restored 1974 Ford Bronco convertible.

Named after Patrick Swayze in Point Break.

Ugh!

Jack, uh, did you bet on a car?

If you want the ultimate, Nick, you got to be willing to pay the ultimate price.

So many questions.

I have so many questions.

Save it.

We got arrest reports to fill out and I want to get them done before Gibbs gets back from his last two days of leave.

You gonna share or what?

Oh.

Appreciate it, Cyclops.

Least I can do, Gimpy.

(laughs)

Thanks for the, uh, official invite, Gibbs.

This is special.

Just three men realizing they need each other.

Why do you have to ruin everything?

Why do you got to say something stupid like that, Phil?

Sorry, sorry.

You're absolutely right.

Show me the way to go home I'm tired and I want to go to bed (clears throat)

I had a little drink about an hour ago (laughs)

ALL: And it went right to my head (laughs)

Wherever We may roam on land or sea or foam You'll always hear me singing this song Show me the way to go home.
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