20x10 - Too Many Cooks

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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20x10 - Too Many Cooks

Post by bunniefuu »

- And Bonnie here is a bromeliad.
- (TYPING)

Please don't ask me to spell that.

And so she needs to be kept moist,

but not soggy.

Also...

(WHISPERING):
she likes to be whispered to.

Full disclosure.

I probably won't do that last part.

I appreciate your honesty.

And your excellent note-taking.

Don't sound so surprised, Mr. Harding.

I am surprised, Libby.

Why? Because I'm young

and people my age are usually cynical?

No. Because you agreed to apartment sit

and people my age
don't usually pay well.

Picking ten albums
from your record collection

does seem fair to me.

Just not the Manilow, okay?

Okay. Boomer.

(CHUCKLES)

I guess I asked for that one.

Okay, so we still have to go
over the living room plants.

Wait.

You didn't say your vacation
was someplace warm.

My price just went up. Jealousy tax.

What? I always wear that shirt
whenever I visit...

...Idaho.

albums.

Or your plants can slowly die

along with the rest of the planet.

- (LAUGHS)
- (PHONE RINGS)

I'll let you think about it.

Be back later.

(CHUCKLES) Oh, Libby.

- (DOOR CLOSES)
- Hello?

How did you get this number?

Don't try to find me.

(KNOCKING)

Libby?

Is that you?

(KNOCKING)

(g*nsh*t)

♪ ♪

You know, this is the third time

Kasie has sent us out for a supply run.

Yeah. She either needs
to stop throwing parties

or we need to stop agreeing
to be her gophers.

First it was Ducky's birthday,
then it was Susan in HR

with a housewarming. And then...

now it's a-it's a retirement party

for a guy I don't even like.

Oh, come on, everybody
likes the professor.

Not everybody.

He was my favorite instructor at FLETC.

Kind of a cross between Robin
Williams from Dead Poets Society

and, uh, the professor
on Gilligan's Island.

What? No way.

More like the dude from Whiplash.

If the professor were
a pathological hard-ass,

why would federal agents
from around the world

come to his party?

I don't know. Maybe you should ask them.

Can we help you?

Yes.

Where do you keep your extra staples?

- (LAUGHS) Hey.
- I don't.

I've got them in my upper
right drawer, Agent Boone.

JESSE: Thanks, Jess.
Sorry about the invasion of privacy, but

we were given direct orders.

Uh, by General Hines?

Yes. We got here a day early
for the retirement party, and

Kasie put us on decorating duty.

- Well, she's hard to say no to.
- Yeah, tell us about it.

Hey, look, it's the least we
can do for the professor...

after all, his classes

on thr*at response
have saved me more than once.

Hey, he was the one
who suggested I switch

from D.C. Homicide to NCIS.
The man changed my life.

You're not the only one.

Yeah, that's for sure.

Listen to this. Over the last years,

the professor has taught

, federal trainees

and recertified , active personnel.

That's, uh, wildly specific, McGee.

Kasie asked me to crunch the numbers.

She's giving a toast later,
and she knows

the professor can be
a real stickler for details.

He always used to say, "You
can't spell details without..."

ALL: "Dotting the I's
and crossing the T's."

Well, FLETC will, uh, miss his mantras.

I never thought the cockroach
would actually retire.

- The cockroach?
- Mm-hmm.

See? I'm not the only one
who hates the guy.

No, that was his nickname
at the FBI. We loved him.

Well, whatever you called him, we, uh...

we had lunch last week, and he, uh,

definitely seems happy
to be hanging up his spurs.

Wow, happy? Like Gibbs is in Alaska?

KNIGHT: Speaking of... he
probably knew the professor.

Any chance of Gibbs
showing up to the party?

I doubt it.

Although, you know what?
The professor did mention

that Gibbs and him went on a
few fishing trips back in the day.

So you're saying there's a chance?

No, there's not.

Because the party's off.

I'm... I'm very sorry

to have to report Professor Dale Harding

was found dead this morning
in his apartment.

What happened, Director?

The initial report suggests
that he d*ed by su1c1de.

su1c1de? That-that...
that can't be right.

No, it can't.

Then I guess we got work to do.

Well, this is awkward.

But I think you all forgot something.

Like what?

It was a joke.

I thought you were gonna take
the next elevator.

You're obviously welcome
to any of our crime scenes.

Your crime scenes? Interesting.

She's special agent in charge
of the entire Pacific Rim, Nick.

I'd choose your next words
very carefully.

No words is also a choice.

- Very true.
- Amen.

TORRES: All right,
all I'm saying is that

this is not the Pacific,
this is D.C., and, uh,

we do things a certain way here.

Mm.

Does that way include moving the body

before you process the scene?

Oh. Hi, guys.

Uh, Jimmy, what are you doing?

Yeah. Who authorized you
to release the body?

We did.

Agents Callen and Hanna.

Agent Tennant.

McGee! Oh, it's been a while.

Yeah. What the hell
are you guys doing here?

I guess it hasn't been long enough.

Still using the old DSLRs, huh?

Standard-issue equipment.
Unlike, uh, color-dye gloves.

Well, you know,
they work the same as yours.

Well, until the dye rubs off

and contaminates the evidence.

Look, we're not trying to step
on anyone's toes coming here.

We were in D.C.
for the professor's party.

We heard the bad news when we landed.

We had to find out if it was true.

And was it?

We never got to see the body.

SAM: It was true.

And it was not pretty.

CALLEN: Single g*nsh*t under the chin.

Fresh GSR, consistent blood spatter.

It was su1c1de.

I had lunch with the professor
a few days ago,

and he seemed fine.

Talking big about retirement plans.

KNIGHT: Like a trip to Cabo.

He had a ticket to leave
at the end of the week.

Yeah, su1c1de doesn't make sense.

Not for the cockroach.

Your class called him that, too?

Out of respect.

You and Parker have high
opinions of primitive insects.

They're survivors.
And so was Dale Harding.

The man taught incident preparedness

and thr*at response, and one
of his many mantras was "Adapt

and overcome."

Well, I guess he forgot his mantra.

He didn't forget.

He had to have had a good reason.

That means we're missing something.

Yeah, like a cell phone.

Someone call
The Guinness Book of Records.

I think we have the most senior
field agents at a crime scene.

Yeah, I heard
the NCIS Great Lakes office is

on their way, too.

I'm kidding.

You, uh, said something
about a cell phone?

Yes. We were talking
to the next door neighbor Libby.

And she said she heard
the g*nsh*t at : a.m.

Said she knocked, but no answer.

Building manager unlocked
the door ten minutes later

- and they found the body.
- Libby know the professor?

Yeah. She was with him
moments before the g*nsh*t.

Said he was alone and cheerful

when he got a call on his cell phone.

Except I didn't see a cell phone here.

Anyone else?

Then where the hell is it?

I might have an answer.

According to the access log,
this computer was last used at : a.m.

That's five minutes after the g*nsh*t.

Five minutes before the body was found.

Yeah, means someone else
was in this apartment.

TORRES: Are you sure it was a su1c1de?

Because, rule number three:
always double-check.

I did double-check, and you don't
have to quote Gibbs' rules to me.

He and I go way back.

Look, if there was somebody
else in that apartment,

maybe they pulled the trigger.

Well, the evidence says su1c1de.

Well, that is until
Jimmy says otherwise.

You want to bet?

No rules against that.

Actually, there is.

- Number .
- ? We're not dating.

- No, is about lawyers.
- Oh.

Okay, never mind. Look,
the point is that even if

- the professor took his own life...
- Which he did.

...he could have been coerced.

I'm guessing that has to do
with his last call.

Phone records show a
blocked number at : a.m.

And two minutes later the
professor sh*t himself.

Exactly.

We need to find out
what was said on that call.

- And who said it.
- KNIGHT: Well, that might be a problem.

The blocked number was bounced
through a signal relay

and the professor's missing cell
has been turned off.

No back trace, no GPS.

KNIGHT: It's okay.
We will adapt and overcome,

just like the professor used to say.

I think we owe that to him.

I think that is something
that we can all agree on.

Yeah, the man tried
to kick me out of FLETC, but...

...he does deserve justice.

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

- Oh, hey, Tim.
- Hey, Jimmy.

You alone?

Yeah. Why, what's wrong?

Ah, nothing, aside
from the fact that you're alone.

There are so many fresh faces
in the building,

I was kind of hoping that one
of 'em might want to stop by.

Or you could talk to my face
since it's already here.

And it is a lovely face, Tim,
but it can't invite me

to Hawai'i or Los Angeles.

I've never been to either NCIS office.

Yeah, me, neither.
Least not since OSP moved

into that old Mexican restaurant.

I thought it was a Spanish mission.

I don't know.

What's with the towel?

Oh, right. This is a courtesy

to those of you who knew Dale Harding.

When fired into a skull,
a small-caliber b*llet

has a tendency to ricochet around,

shattering the facial bones.
It's not a good look.

You confirmed it was a su1c1de?

Agent Callen was right.
This man took his own life.

Question is why.

That's not the only question.

I mean, aside from
the obvious g*nsh*t to the head,

take a look at the rest of his body.

Some old b*llet wounds.

Yeah, and burns and cuts.

Based on the tissue buildup,
I'd say that these are all

decades old.

Before he taught at FLETC?

He always talked
about his time in the Marines.

- As a gunnery sergeant, yes.
- Yeah, maybe he saw action.

That's what I thought at first, as well.

But according to his service records

and his medical records,
Dale Harding was never wounded.

So where'd the scars come from?

Whatever happened in this man's past,

he kept it secret.

KNIGHT: I don't know
about these cupcakes, Kasie.

Doesn't feel right.

Someone has to eat them.

Otherwise, they go to waste.

Maybe if we just take the toppers off?

No. That wouldn't feel right,

like we were giving up on the professor.

No, he was a noble man

and would not have done
something so drastic

unless someone made him do it.

- You have proof of that, right?
- No.

Whoever entered the apartment

and used the professor's computer

knew how to cover their tracks.

Hmm. Well... they knew
what they were doing.

Wait a minute.

This computer wasn't just
used after he sh*t himself.

It was also used before.

How long before?

Less than a minute.

It looks like
the professor typed something

in a text program.

Maybe it was a su1c1de note.

Uh, if it was, it was a short one.

The professor's last words were
"extra homework"?

That is every student's worst nightmare.

It must mean something, right?

He had to have known
we were gonna find it.

I think there's something
on here the professor

didn't want us to find.

These are government files.

How can you tell?

Each agency has their own

unique file-naming system.

See how these all have
the same DOD suffix?

KNIGHT: Department of Defense.

But what's the big deal?

I mean, the professor was
a government employee.

They all also have the same prefix:

T.S.S.C.I.

Top secret sensitive
compartmented information.

A civilian FLETC instructor

shouldn't have these files
on his personal computer.

He shouldn't have them at all.

So how'd he get them?

KASIE: I have no idea because

the last thing the professor did
before he k*lled himself

was delete these files
to hide the evidence.

Well, not exactly the actions...

of a noble man.

Yes. We are looking into it,

- I assure you.
- (DOOR CLOSES)

Yes, I will. Thank you.

Well, that was the head
of cybersecurity at DoD.

Not only did Dale Harding not
have clearance for those files,

the Pentagon didn't even know

that the intel was missing
from their servers.

So it was stolen?

What was in the files?

DoD claims that's need-to-know.

I agree. We need to know.

Well, right now,
they seem more concerned

with why a humble FLETC instructor

- hacked their system.
- Good question.

Yeah, for them and for us.

We don't know
what the professor was planning

to do with that intel.

Well, clearly nothing good.
He committed treason.

Then sh*t himself, so maybe
he had a change of heart.

Look, I don't want to believe

that the man was a criminal
any more than you,

but the evidence is the evidence.

And so we follow the evidence
till we find the truth.

Something I expect to
happen sooner than later,

considering how many resources

NCIS currently has
dedicated to this case.

Multiple senior field agents
from multiple field offices.

All being put to good use, Director.

I would certainly hope so.

(SIGHS) If the professor
stole valuable intel,

I doubt he did it just for kicks.

- Or maybe he had a buyer.
- I don't know.

I've got agents looking

into every corner
of Dale Harding's life,

starting with where
he was currently stationed.

FLETC's Maryland campus.

You sent NCIS's best and brightest

back to school?

Never too late to learn new things.

MAN: This is a Blue Line Metro train.
Next stop,

Foggy Bottom-GWU Kennedy Center.

Stand clear of the door, please.

(SHRIEKS)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(COUGHING)

MAN: Get the doors open!

- (ALL CLAMORING)
- (BUZZER SOUNDS)

INSTRUCTOR: Okay.

Who can tell me how to stop
a public panic such as this?

TORRES: You can't.

That's, uh... that's correct.

Which begs the question, in
the event of a public thr*at,

what is our best course of
action as trained federal agents?

Identify the source of the thr*at.

And neutralize the thr*at.

Uh, exactly.

Wh-Which is why we
determine if the gas is

a chemical att*ck or...

Chemical att*ck, or...

...some little skater kid's
harmless smoke b*mb, huh?

Class is concluded for
today. Thanks, folks.

Um, actually, we have three more hours

- of simulator training.
- (CLEARS THROAT)

Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

NCIS.

And this is not a drill.

We need access to Dale Harding's office.

Notice how each agent focuses on
a separate quadrant of the room.

Protects evidence
and maximizes resources.

It's textbook police work.

Show's over, folks.

Yeah.

So attentive. Maybe we should
let 'em watch, huh?

We are worth studying.

Yeah, some of us more than others.

What is this?

Oh, wow. Check it out.

The professor kept a scrapbook
of his former students.

Uh, promotions, news clippings.

Yeah? Am I in there?

(LAUGHING): No.

But I am.

Thought you and the
professor didn't get along.

Oh, yeah. No, he hated me.

No, the professor didn't hate anybody,

especially not his students.

Then why did he pull me aside
during the last week of training

and tell me to quit?

Those were his exact words?

No. His exact words were,

"You are a lone wolf,
not a team player."

Was he wrong?

My dad used to say after practice,

"If the coach is yelling,
it's a good thing."

Yeah, it means he cares.

It's when the coach stops riding you.

Then you should be worried.

Look at this.

Haven't seen one of these in a minute.

Wow. The guy who hacks the Pentagon

still keeps floppy disks?

Complicated man.

More complicated than we knew.

Either of you ever know
the professor to miss a class?

Unfortunately, no.

No, me, neither.
But according to this schedule,

a substitute teacher was
scheduled to teach his final class.

Who gets a sub on their last day?

Better question: why?

(LAUGHING)

That evasive maneuvering was
inspired, Agent Tennant.

And, Agent Knight, that pit technique...

it's a beautiful thing.

Never saw it coming.

- (LAUGHS)
- (INDISTINCT ANNOUNCEMENTS OVER P.A.)

All right.

Burn that demonstration
into your retinas,

my little ducklings.

The road is a b*ttlefield.
You want to survive?

Then you have
to play offense and defense.

Write it down.

(SIGHS)

Thanks for the practice,
Instructor Ford.

Oh, please, call me Greta.

And my two favorite students
can audit my class anytime.

Except we're not really here to drive.

You're here about Dale Harding.

All right, everybody back to
the garage for video analysis.

Double time.

- Don't make me say it twice!
- Oh, yes, sir. Yes, ma'am.

(SIGHS)

I was so sad to hear
what happened to the professor.

Ask me, it doesn't make any sense.

Neither does the fact that
you subbed his class yesterday.

His last class.

I was just as shocked as anyone.

Dale and I are like oil and water

when it comes to teaching styles.

But he begged me to cover
for him at the last second.

- What could I do?
- Did he give a reason?

Sure. Can't say as I blamed him.

Said he wanted to move up his
post-retirement vacation a few days.

His trip to Cabo.

Cabo?

No, he was going to Hawai'i.

Hawai'i?

You sure about that?

My hearing ain't that bad.

Dale said he was meeting an old friend.

I have everything
from Dale's FLETC office.

I understand.

Yes. Thank you.

I'm sorry. Who are you?

Agent Sam Hanna.

Los Angeles?

OSP?

Oh, right. The agents that didn't RSVP

for the retirement party
but showed up anyway.

That's us. I'm sorry about that.
I was...

Office, evidence. Yes, I got it.

What I don't get is why

the professor changed
his vacation plans two days ago,

'cause that was the airline
I was talking to.

He switched from Cabo to Hawai'i.

Not only that.

He changed his ticket
to leave this morning.

His retirement party was
supposed to be today, right?

Yes, I know.

What I didn't know is

the guest of honor was
planning on missing it.

That is pretty cold.

It's also pretty strange.
It's not like him.

Not to mention, there was
nothing on his computer

or in his apartment about
any old friend in Hawai'i.

Well, he could have made it up.

Just an excuse to skip town
with the stolen files.

And do what with them?

Sell them, pad his retirement account.

Until someone caught him here first.

You really think
the professor was a crook?

You don't?

We don't know that he's
the one that stole those files.

You're a positive thinker.
I respect that.

Looks like
my positive thinking paid off.

This is a security alert from DoD.

They no longer think
Dale Harding was the hacker.

That's good news. Hmm.

No, it's not.
Because they have a new suspect.

(BUZZING)

Weird.

Having trouble, McGee?

Yeah. No, my scan isn't working.
I have no idea why.

We do.

You're under arrest for treason.

Is this some kind of joke?

I can't believe this. You guys
are accusing me of treason?

- In my own house?
- It is nothing personal.

Really? Then why aren't we doing
this in the conference room?

We didn't know where that was.

You didn't know where this room was.

I had to show you.

And we appreciate your cooperation.

But we still need an explanation
for a few things.

Got to say, Director, this feels wrong.

Why is there an outside team
in our interrogation room?

Because it's better than
the alternative.

Which is?

Letting DoD question McGee
in their interrogation room.

They traced the server hack
back to his credentials.

And they're out for blood.

And you agreed to give it to 'em?

No. I agreed to have Agent McGee
questioned by a neutral party.

Neutral? It's two against one in there.

And the one on the right is,
like, pounds of muscle.

MCGEE: This would appear my login data

was used to create a back door

and launch a blind SQL injection
that allowed

top secret files
to be removed undetected.

That's smart.

It's exactly what I would do.

Maybe you did do it.

You don't really believe that.

No.

We don't.

But DoD does.

Help us help you.

Who else has access to your login info?

Nobody. It was obviously stolen.

You expect us to believe the
computer guy lost his password?

Says the car guy
who once lost his favorite car.

Charlene, right?

He knows the name of my car.

It's impressive.

Yeah, and Agent Callen, didn't you get

your entire identity stolen last year?

So let's not get too judgy
about lost login info.

Point taken.

Thank you.

But we still need an explanation

for how someone got access to your info.

No, I know, especially
since I use two-factor

security on my laptop

and a six-digit alphanumeric
unlock code on my...

...on my phone.

Everything okay?

No.

I had lunch with the
professor a few days ago.

Got up to use the restroom.
I left my phone on the table.

Did he have your six-digit code?

No, he didn't need to. I unlocked it

when he asked to see photos of my kids.

He wasn't looking at your photos.

No, he was looking at my login data.

This just keeps getting worse.

Not only did
the professor commit treason,

he exploited a former student to do it.

Afraid I got more bad news.

Are you gonna tell me the professor
was actually a Cylon

this whole time?

No, but I still haven't found any sign

of a missing cell phone
or the person who took it.

There's nothing in this apartment.

Frak!

Yeah, so say we all.

Oh, a fellow Battlestar fan?

Well, I knew I liked you better
than Agent Hanna.

He's not a fan of sci-fi?

He's not a fan of subtlety.

I show him one email from DoD

and he storms out of here
and arrests McGee,

no questions asked.

I'm pretty sure
a lot of questions were asked.

It was an interrogation.

Of a fellow agent?

Look, Agent Hanna was doing his job.

Well, he can do it someplace else,

because Sam Hanna is not allowed

to step foot in this lab ever again.

SAM: That's gonna be a problem.

Let me call you back.

(CHUCKLES) Copy.

Agent Hanna.

Are you here to apologize
for arresting McGee?

No. Because I didn't.

But if it helps, I never actually
thought McGee was a criminal.

It helps. A little.

Mainly 'cause I am dying

to show someone what I found
on the professor's floppy disks.

Other than a copy of the original Doom?

Oh, actually, I prefer
O.G. Oregon Trail.

But you are right.
All of the files on these disks

are decades old, except

one text file

that was created last week.

Extra homework.

The same words the professor
typed before he d*ed.

Which means he wanted us
to find this disk.

Yes. It is like The Da Vinci Code.

A clue trail he knew we'd follow
in the event of his death.

So what does it mean?

Well, that's the problem.

I have no idea.

Because there's nothing else
on this disk.

How about in it?

What do you mean?

Well, back in the days,
in homeroom, I had a girl...

she tried hitting on me
using a floppy disk.

Heather Richardson.

- How did that work?
- Eh, it didn't.

- She wasn't my type.
- No. I mean,

how did she use floppy disks
to hit on you?

Oh, she, uh, pulled them apart
and hid love notes inside.

Huh.

Oh...

Heather Richardson is a genius.

That's exactly why she wasn't my type.

Okay.

"The answer is in the files."

Ah. That doesn't make sense.

The professor deleted
all the stolen files.

Right. Unless he made a copy.

A copy he hid someplace safe.

Is it just me, or does that
fireplace look very familiar?

It's just you.

The famous Gibbs cabin.

I can't believe you guys
have his fireplaces memorized.

Hard not to. It's kind of his thing.

Looks like, uh,

nobody's been here in a while.

Mm. Well, the professor
knew that Gibbs was gone.

A deserted cabin is a perfect
place to hide stolen data.

Yeah, data that the professor
wanted us to find.

Well, so maybe
he did have good intentions.

Who else knew about this place?

Short list.

You good?

I thought I, uh...

- (g*nf*re)
- (GRUNTS)

Think Gibbs came back from
Alaska and doesn't know it's us?

If it was Gibbs sh**ting at us,
we'd be dead right now.

You think we hit him?

I don't know about you, but I did.

(CHUCKLES)

Yeah, we got blood.

Think you hit him.

Think we both did.

I count at least three hits,
with one to the chest.

He should be dead.

Why isn't he?

Because of this.

His phone saved his life.

Well, not for long.
He's wounded and he's on foot.

(MOTORCYCLE REVVING)

Well, he's not on foot anymore.

I'm gonna need roadblocks
in every direction

in and out of Brossard County.

Suspect is wounded, armed
and likely on a motorcycle.

Appreciate that, Sheriff. Thanks.

Knight and Tennant
are leading the search?

Yeah. Agent, uh, Boone is on his way

to coordinate with county police now,

but so far, nothing.

And the professor's hidden files?

Well, Torres searched the cabin.

Looks like our mystery sh**t
b*at us to 'em.

So, where you, uh, where you headed?

Malibu. Kasie got a hit on bank records.

Turns out the, uh, professor was
receiving anonymous wire transfers

from a Western Union along the PCH.

Payment for the stolen files?

Well, that's what Sam and I
are gonna try and find out.

- I'll keep you updated.
- Same here.

- Yup.
- Right.

Did... did Agent Callen tell you
about the wire transfers?

Yeah. You ran up here for nothing.

I didn't run for that. I ran for this.

Our mystery sh**t's cell phone.

He's the one that left it
behind, but it's not his.

I was able to access the SSD memory.

Well, who does it belong to?

The professor.

It's the phone that was stolen
from the crime scene.

Our mystery sh**t was the one
who was at the apartment.

And we might have a name.

Turns out the professor used
an app to record

all his calls, including his last one.

I'm trying to repair
the damaged audio file,

but it sounds like
the caller identifies himself.

Hello, Professor.

This is Simon Williams.

Wait a second.
Did he say Simon Williams?

I think so. I haven't run
the name through the system yet.

There's no need to.

He's on our wall.

WILLIAMS: Hello, Professor.

This is Simon Williams. You remember.

HARDING: How did you get this number?

WILLIAMS: You stole those
files to keep them from me.

But I have ways
of getting them from you.

HARDING: Don't try to find me.

WILLIAMS: Too late.

We know what happens next.

Simon showed up
to make good on his thr*at.

And rather than risk being taken alive,

the professor deleted those files,
took his own life.

So what was in those files
that was worth dying for?

DoD still won't say.

Sounds to me like
they're keeping secrets.

TORRES: Yeah, secrets the
professor was trying to protect

from Simon Williams.

Didn't work.

There's a reason
he's on our Most Wanted wall.

Simon Williams is on everyone's wall.

He's a rogue operative
wanted for everything

from espionage to m*rder for hire.

Committing crimes all over
the world going back years.

I guess career criminals
don't have a retirement age.

Why retire? No one's ever
come close to catching the guy.

Until now. We wounded him
outside of Gibbs' cabin.

Tennant, Knight and Boone
are currently heading the manhunt

with the Brossard County sheriff.

Good.

But none of this explains

the professor's involvement
in the first place.

What's the connection
between a wanted hit man

and a FLETC instructor?

They knew each other.

years ago, Simon Williams
was a FLETC trainee.

- He was a federal agent?
- PARKER: Never made it that far.

The professor cut him from the program.

Did the professor give a reason?

He said that Simon showed a lone wolf

mentality and was not a team player.

I guess the professor was right.

These two had history.

Yeah, and if we want to know more,

we need to find those files.

Which means, uh,
we need to find our hit man.

Go.

Come on, fellas.

We need to know where
you already have roadblocks

and where we still need them.

We are all on the same team here.

(PHONE RINGS)

Hope things are going better for you.

That bad, huh?

After the initial blood trail went cold,

there's been no sign of Simon Williams.

It's like he disappeared.

- Any leads from county police?
- KNIGHT: No.

They're claiming jurisdiction
and keeping us in the dark.

Apparently, they do things
a certain way.

Sound familiar?

Yeah, for a couple reasons.

Had a feeling the county
wasn't gonna play nice, so, um,

I'm here with Kasie. We're monitoring
all their radio transmissions.

Hi, Jess.

Get anything useful yet?

KASIE: Ah, it's mostly idle
chatter and some crosstalk.

A few dirty cop jokes,
but nothing original.

Yeah, we'll let you know if we hear

about a wounded hit man on a motorcycle.

Wait. Hold up.

What? You got something, Kase?

Uh, yeah, but it's not a motorcycle.

County sheriff just did a roll call

and one squad car failed to check in.

Which one?

Unit .

Hey, I need a location on Unit .

Guys, .

Anybody have eyes on Unit ?

Repeat: .

DEPUTY: Uh, that's a negative.

You hear that? Sounds like
we have a missing squad car.

MCGEE: Yeah,
Kase is already doing her thing.

Pulling up the GPS locator on Unit .

I have a bad feeling whoever was

in that squad car is already dead.

Yeah, and now Simon Williams is
on four wheels instead of two.

(TYPING)

I think you're both right.

The squad car is already miles away

on a stretch of farmland
outside of Madison.

And it's not moving.

So, Simon had time
to dump the car and escape.

Are we too late?

One way to find out.

Got eyes on our missing squad car.

TORRES: Yeah, no sign of movement.

PARKER: Move in. Carefully.

Roger that.

Found fresh blood here.

And a fresh body.

Simon was here.

(CAR DOOR CLOSES)

Looks like
he tried to stop the bleeding.

And it looks like it didn't work.

(MOUTHING)

Federal agents. Don't move.

It's over, Simon.

(GASPING)

McGee, this is not the guy on our wall.

Who are you?

I'm... Simon...

Williams.

Yeah? Then who the hell is this?

That's...

Simon Williams.

We're all Simon Williams. (LAUGHS)

No, no, no, no, no.

He's gone.

JIMMY: My best guess...
this man is at least

years too young
to be the real Simon Williams.

So who is he?

I have no idea.

Facial recognition came back negative,
as did DNA.

- And fingerprints?
- He doesn't have any.

They've been b*rned off using acid.

So, this may not be Simon Williams,

but he sure did act
like a wanted hitman.

- Maybe a copycat?
- Or an employee.

One of many, it seems.

"We're all Simon Williams."

This isn't over.

You know, it's been a really long day.

It's getting late. Maybe
we should all take a break,

you know? Start fresh in the morning.

No, we're good.

And Jesse and I have to catch
a late flight out tonight.

Okay, well, then, when was the last time

either of you had something to eat?

Hmm. He does make a good point there.

All right. I could go for
something before the flight.

Do you know where I can get
blueberry pancakes?

As a matter of fact, I do.

Let's just finish up our work
here, we'll meet up later.

I'll text Torres.
We can make it a double date.

Or you know what? We can actually

just make it a professional meal
amongst colleagues.

Right. I'm not asking for the world.

I just want to look at the FBI's
file on Simon Williams.

(KNOCKING)

Because he's a bad guy

and we're all on the same team, right?

Sweeney. He still hates me.

What? Didn't you save his ass
a few months ago?

I think that made it worse.

- (PHONE CHIMES)
- Yeah, yeah, I'm still here.

That-that's all we need.

_

- Well, hey, no, I got no problem
- _

with calling us even.

Okay, good.

Yeah, give Doreen my best.

Hmm. That sounds like good news.

He agreed to send the file.

Redacted, but, uh,
I'll take what I can get.

What about you? You got something?

Yeah, I mean, not-so-good news.

Kasie processed, uh, the contents

of our dead guy's, uh, burn bucket.

And, uh, well, he destroyed everything

that would help us identify him.

His wallet, uh, SIM card,

a USB thumb drive.

The files that were stashed
at Gibbs' cabin.

Yeah, she tried to recover
the data, but it's gone.

Yeah, along with
the real Simon Williams.

Yup. Dead end. (SIGHS)

Did you come all the way
over here just to tell me that?

(SIGHS)

What's on your mind, Nick?

The professor, man.

(SIGHS)

He told me to quit FLETC,
just like he did Simon Williams.

He give a reason?

The same one he gave Simon.

The professor saw the same thing
in both of us.

Nick, you and Simon Williams
are nothing alike.

I'm not so sure.

He went to work for himself.

You would never do that, right?

Right.

(PHONE CHIMES)

Sweeney sent the file.

Well, that was fast.

Yeah.

The FBI is already tracking

one of Simon Williams' known associates.

In D.C.?

No.

Hawai'i.

That's where the professor was headed.

Hey, sorry I'm late.

Is Jimmy and Tennant inside already?

No, which is odd.

- What do you mean?
- Well, I saw them both

leave NCIS before I did,

so they should be here by now,

but neither one is answering my text.

What the hell?

Isn't that Jimmy's dad-mobile?

Uh... should I call him again?

Yeah, for sure.

("HABANERA" FROM CARMEN PLAYING)

It's Jimmy's ringtone for me.

Right here.

(MUSIC CONTINUING)

(MUSIC STOPS)

I'm calling Tennant.

(DIALING)

(PHONE VIBRATING)

Hey, Knight.

She ain't gonna answer.

Nick?

I know.

(PANTING)

MAN: Take it easy, Agent Tennant...

...or somebody might get hurt.
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