20x16 - Butterfly Effect

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "NCIS". Aired: September 2003 to present.
The cases of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.
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20x16 - Butterfly Effect

Post by bunniefuu »

Late again.

Morning, ma'am. Sorry I'm late.

The drive-through at Capitol Cruller

is closed this week for repaving.

No excuses, Petty Officer Sheehan.

Smooth seas don't make skillful sailors.

Yes, ma'am. But maybe instead of waiting

at the walkup window for an hour...

I could get your nine-sh*t,
one-pump mocha chai latte

someplace new.

Or I could get in line earlier.


I would have been on time
if that old homeless guy

out in the parking garage
didn't heckle me.

What the hell did I just say?

No more excuses. Yes, ma'am.

It's just that the old geezer's back

begging for change and he didn't
take no for an answer.

Would that be the "old geezer"

with the snake and the sword tattoo?

- I didn't pay attention.
- Clearly.

Because if you had,
you would have noticed

that tattoo says th Infantry Division.

The old man was Army?

Which means he deserves some respect.

And a couple of bucks.

Look alive, soldier.

Excuse me, sir?

Hey, you all right?

Oh, my God.

Dial !


. What's your emergency?

Hello? Hello?

McGee, you're seeing this?

Yeah, man. This is unbelievable.

Hey, McGee, what was that trick

you told me about getting
your earbuds to work, again?

Uh, hit "forget device,"
then "re-pair device."

All right. Thank you.

Still having problems?

No, it's not me. It's my dad in Japan.

I made the mistake
of suggesting new earbuds,

and now he texts me
every time they don't work.

Trickle-down tech support.

See, this is why I stopped
giving gadget advice

to my extended family.

Tim, you're missing it.

Ooh, why? What-What's going on?

I just saw a shadow.

Friend or foe?

Is somebody stealing packages

from your front door again?

What? Oh, no, I'm not, um...

I'm not watching my,
uh, doorbell camera.

No, we're watching a live webcam feed

of a bald eagle's nest
in the Yukon Territory.

Look at that.

Wow. Parker would be proud.

He's the one that gave us the idea.

And now we can't stop watching.

I can see why. This is riveting drama.

Right? Eggs are due to hatch
any minute, too.

Now, bald eagle incubation is days

and we're on day .

the mom has been gone
for like three hours.

Yeah. And we have no idea why.

Or when she's gonna come back.

Like, this is like
a matter of life or death.

Why we can't afford to look away.

Yeah, life is so...


Right, but you watching
isn't gonna change

what's gonna happen to those eggs.

Well, it might.

The positive energy that
we put out in the universe

might affect the outcome.

From three thousand miles away?

It's called the butterfly effect.

Yeah, it's like science.

If you stop watching,
something bad could happen.

Something bad did happen.

We got a possible bioterror att*ck

across the river in Anacostia.

Time to turn the phones off

and put these on.

And check 'em for tears.

I want this whole block secured!

This strip mall is now
a containment zone, understand?

The only people who get in need a badge,

a hazmat suit, and a death wish.

How about two out of three?

Special Agent Parker, NCIS.

- Martinez, MPD.
- What are we looking at, Cap?

Oh, nothing good.

Two MPD officers responded to a call

from the Navy recruitment center.

They went inside and
reported multiple bodies.

- Alive?
- No idea.

Before the officers
could send a full report,

the radio went d*ad.

And my people never came back out.

Too fast to be some kind
of accidental gas leak.

We're thinking airborne toxin.

The deliberate kind.

So we evacuated the area
and called for backup.

All right, emergency response
team is right behind us.

They'll coordinate from
out here while my team

and I head inside to identify
the source of the thr*at.

In that case, you better zip up
that space suit nice and tight.

This place is a death zone.

These people dropped like stones.

Yeah, but what did it?

There's nothing coming
from the HVAC system,

and the blowers are off.

Oxygen levels are clear.

I got a pulse here.

It's weak, but she's alive.

Same here.

You two start moving bodies outside

into the decontamination zone.

Knight and I will check out back.

On it.

We found our hot zone.

I'm counting at least
seven more victims.

Including the two first responders.

Whatever these people were breathing in

must have been pretty dense

to fill up an entire parking garage.

But I'm not showing
any airborne contaminants.

Even at ground level.

We've got a gas cylinder.

Nozzle's wide open
and the gauge is at empty.

Think we found our source.

Oxygen levels are normal.

Whatever was in that t*nk
must have dissipated by now.

Not before causing real damage.

I'll radio the med team,

make sure they're ready
with extra gurneys.

We're gonna need it.

Just found victim number eight.


Over here!

Oh, what the...? Who are you?

We're federal agents. Don't move.

Medical help is on the way.

Medical help? For what?

They're waking up.

What the hell?

What's the latest, Doc?

The gassing victims are all receiving

emergency care and undergoing
rigorous medical evaluation.


And so far there appears

to be no serious injuries.
That's the good news.

So what's the bad news?

Well, there appears
to be no injuries at all.

No respiratory distress.

No heart problems. No residual
effects from the gas,

and everyone's in perfect health.

Why is that the bad news?

Because the doctors have
no idea what happened.

It's hard to diagnose a problem
when there's no symptoms.

Preliminary blood tests
have come back negative

for all common toxins,
chemicals, anesthetics.

So whatever was used inside that
parking garage was uncommon.

Exactly. And the unknown
is always scarier.

And for all we know, this could've been

some kind of a t*rror1st test run.

You're not the only one that thinks so.

I've been on with NSA, DoD,
Homeland all morning.

I was just telling Agent Parker,

there have been no injuries
so far, Director.

That may be, but we have to
assume that whoever executed

this att*ck can do it again.

And on a larger, more deadly scale.

NCIS needs to find out
who's responsible.

Which means we need to find out

what kind of a chemical w*apon
we're dealing with.

Actually it was bovine tranquilizer.

For cows?

I have processed the gas cylinder

from the parking garage

and found trace amounts of xylazine.

A sedative most commonly used in cattle.

- So, veterinarians use gas?
- No.

They use injections.

Because xylazine is only
manufactured in liquid form.

So how does a liquid
sedative become a gas?

You mean a colorless, tasteless,
and slightly minty-smelling gas.

If you say so.

Well, someone clearly developed a way

to aerosolize the stuff.

And let me tell you,
vaporization chemistry...

no easy task.

So we're looking for someone
that knows what they're doing.

Xylazine is generally
not safe for humans.

But the ppm ratio of this gas

was specifically formulated
to knock a person out

in under seconds.

Without causing any real harm.

- Why?
- The million-dollar question.

Who would want to create
the chaos and fear

of a bioterror att*ck without
the usual death and destruction?

Bad guys with a conscience?

- Or an even bigger plan.
- Exactly.

Too bad there's nothing
in the Global Terrorism Database

about cow tranquilizer.

There weren't any security cameras

in the parking garage either.

So we'll need another way
to identify said bad guys.

Group text?

No. I get alerts every time
something new happens

with the eagle eggs.

Did the eggs hatch?

Uh, no, but their mother showed up.

Which is a major relief.

The father showed up.

Oh, cool. That's fabulous.

Did you know that
the male and the female

take turns on sitting on the eggs?

Okay, bird boy.
You might want to dial down

your notification settings a little bit.

Actually, that wasn't
a nest notification.

That was Parker from the hospital.

NCIS has been cleared

for questioning the gassing victims.

Text Parker and let him know
that I'm on my way.

Except I forgot to turn my phone back on

after the hazmat operation.

Uh-oh. All from my sister.

Everything okay?

I don't know.

This just says "Call me."

Well, maybe next time

don't make it sound like
a family emergency

if it's not actually a family emergency.

Love you, too. Bye.

Sorry. My sister needs
a class in text etiquette.

Sign my dad up for that class.

So, is everything okay?

Yeah, turns out my dad got into

a bicycling accident in Japan.

He was fiddling with his new earbuds

when he veered off the path
and into a bamboo grove.

Well, bamboo is a good luck symbol.

Well, he is lucky that he only ended up

with a compound fracture on his left arm

and he's gonna be fine.

But you would think
a federal agent would understand

the dangers of distracted driving.

Nobody's perfect.


So, it looks like we have...

ten gas victims in five different rooms?

How do you want to handle this?

Divide and conquer?

This was an act of w*r.

A direct att*ck on a U.S. Navy facility

shows intention to provoke a conflict.

And you know this how?

It's international law.

Captain Boggs, did you see
anything in that garage

that would be able to tell us

who was responsible for this att*ck?


Ms. Quinlan, uh, you said you were

headed to the salon in the morning?

Yeah. Sorry, it's, um...

been a day.

You can call me Dorothy.

Dorothy, did you see anything unusual

before you passed out?

Not really.

I mean, unless you count

two guys in a white cargo van.

What about them?

Well, they sped off

right before I started
feeling dizzy, but...

I didn't get a good look at them.

Do you remember anything else?

Even the smallest detail?

No. Because before I knew it,

I woke up in this nightmare.

Agents in hazmat suits,

doctors treating us like plague victims.

And my phone broke when I collapsed

and now it's not working at all.

Sorry, that's, that's my phone.

I'm dealing with some family issues.

I know how that feels.

I just want this day to end.

Best day I had in a long time.

Clean bed, hot shower.

And the food ain't bad either.

Better than that horse meat
we got in 'Nam.

Yeah, I just need to know
if you saw anything unusual

in the parking garage this morning.

Ever since my mortar-launching days,

I'm a tad scatterbrained.

That's why everybody
started calling me Shelly.

Okay, I'm gonna give you a minute.

I promise I'm fine.

It's just a little scrape.

I know, I miss you, too, honey bear.

Uh, Mr. Billings,
the sooner we finish this,

the sooner you can go
back to your family.

And I promise I'll never
leave your side again.

I love you, too, snookums.

I'm sorry about that.

I haven't seen my wife

since I left the house
this morning, and...

we're not usually apart for this long.

I picked up on that.

Like I was saying, um...
The parking garage.

Right. I was headed
to the hardware store

to pick up a new toilet flapper for the

- downstairs bathroom.
- Uh-huh.

And I never made it to my car...

before, bam, I was out like a light.

I don't remember a thing.

You know, my wife's a hypnotherapist.

Maybe she can access

my repressed memories.

I'll come back later.

I got some other victims to talk to.

Hey, hon.

Hey, where's that police officer?

Are you the cop looking
into the gas att*ck?

NCIS. Is there something wrong, sir?

Hell yeah. I've been robbed.

And you are...?

George Barlow. I'm a contractor.

I was picking up tools
at the hardware store

this morning when I passed out.

And when I did, my keys and cell phone

were securely attached to my belt.

And now they're missing?

The t*rrorists that gassed that
parking garage stole my stuff.

Calm down, Mr. Barlow.

It's an awful lot of trouble

for just a set of keys and a cell phone.

I mean, unless you've got access

to government secrets or something.

Hey, buddy. You ain't that far off.

Wait a minute.

The contractor was being serious?

Yeah, as it turns out, George Barlow

owns George's Fish & Fountain.

It's a company that installs aquariums

and water features
into high-end homes in D.C.

Look at this.

"Trusted since ."

Yeah, and that's the problem.

See, George offers an in-home, no-hassle

maintenance program to his
clients and they trust him

with their house keys and alarm codes.

Keys and alarm codes
that are now missing, huh?

Yeah. Look at George's client list.

I recognize some of these names.

Exactly. Politicians,
military contractors,

high-ranking military officers...

High-value targets.

And the keys to their front doors

are now in the hands of bioterrorists.

So our bioterrorists are also thieves.

They flooded the parking garage
with a specialized knockout gas,

then stole keys and alarm codes

to multiple private residences.

Some of which belong to high-
ranking government officials.

D.C. power players.

Who are now potential targets.

We've started notifying them
about the security thr*at.

Good. Because we have
no idea what comes next.

Our bioterrorists
could use their knockout gas

for any number of crimes.

Unfortunately, we still have
no leads on who's behind this.

Other than a vague description

about two men in a white cargo van.

Find 'em. Find out what they're planning

before it becomes another headline.

We'll keep you in the loop.

Agent Knight.

Would you mind
staying for a moment, please?

I heard about your father's
little mishap.

Word travels fast.

Well, the NCIS Far East office
is a tight-knit group.

How's your dad holding up?

He had surgery to reset his broken bone.

And I'm told that he's doing well,

but the doctors are going to
keep him overnight just in case.

I'm glad to hear it.

Tell him I send my best.

I would, except I haven't

actually spoken to him personally.

The, uh, Japanese hospitals

are pretty strict about
their no cell phone use.

If you like,

I could call and ask them
to make an exception.

It's a perk of the office.

You know my dad doesn't like
any special favors.


But I'm asking you.

Well, in that case, bring it on.

Thank you, Director.

You're welcome.

Well, it must be nice to be rich

and have your own, uh, fountain guy.

Oof. Lifestyles of the rich and famous.

- More like the rich and hunted.
- Oh.

So, um, you called me down here.

I'm hoping for good news.

Yes, I did. Because after
having that truck

towed from the strip mall's
parking garage,

I was able to confirm

that our "fountain guy"
was, indeed, the target.

I found this gas flow controller
planted under his truck.

And what does it do?

Exactly what the name implies.

It controls the flow of gas.

One hose was attached to the
truck's ventilation system,

the other hose was attached to
the t*nk of cow tranquilizer.

And the t*nk was hidden
underneath the truck?

Yes. Until a fitting failed
and the hose came loose.

The t*nk rolled free,

and instead of gassing
George in his truck...

It filled up the whole garage.

My guess is, the thief's original plan

was to steal the phone and keys,

copy them, and then return the items

without George ever
realizing what hit him.

Wow. Smart. Complicated but smart.

Yeah, but since the gas cylinder
accidentally broke free

and caused a bioterror panic,

the thief wasn't able
to do that last part.

Well, that's good work, Kasie.

Yeah. But I am not done yet.

Because I also found

a hair follicle in
one of the gas flow hoses.

Left by our thief?

Uh, not sure yet.

I'm running the DNA
through the system now.

Oh, looks like you got a hit.

Actually, that's... It's not important.

Uh, Kasie?

Is that what I think it is?


Ever since you showed me the nest,

I can't look away.

See? I told you, man.

We got to send all the positive energy.

Every little bit helps.


Ooh. Case in point...

We got a hit on our hair follicle.

Phillip Legrand, .
A known thief wanted by the FBI.

Wanted in connection with the robberies

of several high-end
homes across the country.

And in every case, homeowners,
uh, slept through the robbery

and woke up to their
jewelry and cash gone.

And they all reported their houses

smelling "slightly minty."

That's the, uh, cow tranquilizer.

Looks like Legrand moved
on to robbing the D.C. elite.

Okay, thank you for the feedback.

Well, speaking of the D.C. elite,

Knight and I are still
notifying potential targets.

- Tell 'em to change their locks.
- I am.

They're not happy about it.

They keep blaming NCIS

and asking to "speak to my manager."

Luckily, uh, no one

has reported any break-ins
or suspicious activity.

You've talked to everybody on the list?

All but one.

U.S. Senator Constance Miller

is currently on a flight home
from a diplomatic trip to Ukraine.

All right, get in touch
with her office on the Hill.

Already did. The office said
she'll call back when she lands.

Well, in the meantime,

at least diplomatic flights
have extra security.

We might have another problem.

The office also said

that she has a live-in maid
at her house.

But every time I call, nobody answers.

Sounds like we better
check out that house.


I don't see any movement.

I think I know why.

We got a body.

I think we found our maid.

Got a faint pulse and a shallow breath.

She's been gassed.

Yeah, Legrand.

He's definitely been here.

And someone still is.

- Federal agents!
- Hands up!

Turn around slowly!

Who are you?

Agent Knight, don't sh**t.


You have this all wrong.

You broke into the home
of a United States senator.

This is all a misunderstanding.

Using stolen keys and alarm codes.

Which makes this breaking and
entering and felony theft.

Question is: do we need to add charges

for committing an act of terrorism?


You lied to me at the hospital.

There were no "guys in
a white cargo van."

You planted the gas.

And accidentally gassed
yourself in the process.

We understand plenty.

Lucky for you, we also understand

that you weren't working alone.

You were working for Phillip Legrand.

We might be able to

drop those terrorism charges if...

you lead us to your boss.

He's not my boss, okay?

You don't understand.

Phillip Legrand is my father.

And he's being held hostage.

If I don't deliver
the hard drive from that safe,

whoever has my dad will k*ll him.

Well, maybe we don't understand
as much as we thought.

So you'll help me?

As long as you tell us everything.

Starting with your father.

He was a chemistry teacher

before he was a professional thief.

But I didn't know what
he did for a living

until a few years back
when he sold the house,

bought a camper van, and started
traveling around the country.

To rob houses.

He called it early retirement.

I called it a way to avoid

student loans I'll never
be able to pay back.

So... I joined him.

Breaking the law didn't bother you?

Of course it did.

But we're not violent criminals.

My dad has a strict code.

We only steal from
people who can afford it.

We only take enough to travel around

together in our camper van.

And nobody ever...

ever gets hurt.

You gas innocent people.

I know.

It's wrong.

And here we are.

Here you are.

Where's your dad?

I told you, he was kidnapped.

Last week, I got an anonymous text

from someone saying
they knew we were thieves.

Wanted to hire us to pull a job.

- And how did they find you?
- I have no idea.

But working for someone else
goes against our code,

so I turned it down.

And I'm guessing, uh,
that didn't go too well?

Next day, I found our camper van trashed

and my father missing.

Then I got another text
from the same person.

This time, a new offer.

Steal the hard drive from
Senator Miller's safe...

or my father dies.

And you didn't call the police?

I swear I'm telling the truth now.

A-And I can prove it.

As long as you can fix my cell phone.

Shattered screen,
total touch malfunction.

- Sounds bad.
- Not really.

I can usually fix these
things in under a minute.

But you need, like,
spare parts and tools?

Yeah, I got 'em all right here.

Federal agent, best-selling author,

and a smartphone repairman?

- Mm-hmm.
- Delilah is a serial gadget k*ller.

Buttons, screens, batteries...

I'm always fixing something, you know?

Hear from your dad?

No, I wish. It's my sister.

- She heard from him?
- Not yet.

But I'm letting her know that
Vance is calling in a favor.

All right, here we go.

We can access the phone's messaging app.

Dorothy said that
the thr*at text messages

were coming from an unregistered number.

So, maybe a burner phone?

Yep. Here's the text thread
about k*lling her father.

Just like she said.

Story checks out.

Question is: do we believe her?

You think Dorothy made all
this up, faked the texts?

- I think she's a professional criminal.
- True.

Would be nice to have physical evidence

- of a kidnapping.
- Mm-hmm.

We agree. Just finished
processing Dorothy's camper van.

We found signs of struggle
and traces of blood.

A match to Phillip Legrand?

It looks like, uh,
Dorothy was telling the truth.

He was taken.

Yeah, but who did it?

I mean, back-tracing a burn phone

isn't gonna get us anywhere.

No, we got to find out who
wanted that, uh, hard drive.

Yeah, but in order to do that,

we need to know what's
on the hard drive.

Good luck getting a U.S. senator

to reveal what she has
locked in her hidden safe.

Well, I'm not making that call.

Me neither.

She's definitely gonna
want to "speak to a manager."

I think we need to go
higher up than that.

Please help yourself to some traditional

varenyky dumplings, Director Vance.

There was really no need to go through

all this trouble, Senator Miller.

Baked goods are the least
I can do after NCIS

prevented a robbery in my own home.

- Pastry, Agent Parker?
- Sure.

One of the perks of being
on the Senate Committee

for Foreign Relations is traveling

and trying exotic desserts.

Woman after my own heart.

But I'm pretty sure
you're not here for sweets.

You're here to find out
what's in my safe, right?

Uh, we have no intention

of violating your privacy,
Senator Miller.

NCIS only needs a general idea

of what's on your hard drive

in order to find out
who wanted it stolen.

Relax. I can do a lot better
than a general idea.

I'll show you the whole damn thing.

Follow me.

The hard drive is
nothing more than a backup

of my personal photo library.

I only keep it in this safe

in case the house burns down.

It's just pictures of...

...family, friends, vacations.

Campaign events.

And dessert selfies.

They're valuable to me
but hardly worth stealing.

Well, obviously there's something about

these photos that's important.

I can't imagine what that would be, but

I'm happy to make NCIS a copy.

We would appreciate that.

The hospital's finally
getting back to me

about Agent Knight's father.

Uh, Senator, my apologies,
I need to take this.

Of course.
I'll get started on that copy.

Thank you.

Glad someone's enjoying
those traditional varenykys.

Frankly, I was a bit disappointed.

Well, whoever said that
these were traditional lied.

These are baked, not boiled.

You know your pastries.

Mm, I have a sweet tooth.

Is that all that's sweet?

Again, Senator, my apologies.

I need Agent Parker for a moment.

Everything good in Japan?

No. There's been a complication.

I don't understand, Robin. He was fine.

How did this happen?

Okay. Okay, just...

Yeah, just...

Okay, fine, just call me back
if anything changes.

Yeah, I love you, too.

Jess, hey, I just heard. What happened?

I wish I knew.

One minute my dad was
recovering from a broken arm,

and the next minute

he's having a hard time
breathing, and now

he is now unconscious
and on a ventilator.

Was it a bad drug reaction?

The doctors in Japan think it's
some kind of secondary infection.

Well, that's gonna require
emergency surgery, ASAP.

Yeah, he's going in now.

But the doctors also told Robin

that if they don't find the
problem soon, that my dad might...

Okay, okay, all right, hey.

How can I help? What do you need?

I don't know.

My sister got me a plane ticket
that leaves

- for Tokyo tonight.
- That's good.

It's a -hour plane ride,
so by the time I get there,

my dad might already...

- No, Jess, you can't think like that.
- I know.

I just feel useless right now.

I understand.

Trust me.

Tell me you got something
on our kidnappers, Kasie.

I could really use some good
news about someone's father.

You and me both,
except I don't have any.

There was nothing in
Dorothy's camper van

that can tell us who took her dad.

And the photos from Senator Miller?

I've been scanning through
her libraries for anything

that might tell us who wanted
this hard drive.

But other than the fact that
she enjoys travel and...

enjoys dessert,
nothing stands out so far.

Somebody wants these photos.

And they want them pretty badly.

Our kidnapper just sent
another text to Dorothy's phone.

- We're on the clock.
- Yes.

And right now the only way
to find the kidnapper

would be to give them what they want.

Let Dorothy deliver the hard drive?

And lead us to the bad guys.

Yeah, that would mean
that we would have to trust

a known criminal who's facing
jail time for felony theft.

You think Dorothy would try to escape?

I think it's a risk.

It's a risk we might have to take.

Our kidnapper has started
sending photos.

Are you sure this is gonna work?

Well, trading the hard drive
for your father

was always the plan, right?

Yes. But that was before.

If the kidnapper finds out
NCIS is now involved...

they'll k*ll my dad.

We're gonna do everything we can
to make sure that doesn't happen,

I promise.

Why do you care so much
about saving a wanted criminal?

Because my dad taught me a code, too.

Help those in need every chance you get.


You all right?


It's the kidnapper.

He wants you to meet him
at South King Street

and wait for further instructions.

I'll run the address.

You don't have to.
It's an old office building

my dad and I use
to stash our stolen goods.

Did I forget to mention that?

Why would the kidnapper
want you to go there?

I don't know.

Well, think harder.

This is how we help your father.

Their stash house is an
abandoned office complex.

Dorothy was right.

It should be easy enough to stake out

while we send her inside.

McGee and I will take
the west, uh, entrance.

I'll take the east.

All right. Here is your copy of
the hard drive to use as bait.

Is the actual data on here?

With some added security.

What's that mean?
What if something goes wrong?

Well, the three of us
are gonna be in contact

with you at all times, using earpieces.

Everything will be okay.
Just stick to the plan.

About that.

Where's Agent Knight?
I thought she was part of this.

I am.

Jess, I thought you were
getting on a plane.

Change of plans.

What about your dad?

There's nothing I can do to help him.

Here is where I can help.

You don't have to do this.

It's what my dad would do.

It's all quiet
on our side of the building.

How about you?

Nothing here.

Anything from inside yet?

How you doing, Dorothy?

I'm good. I-I think.

Any word from our kidnapper?

I texted him that I'm here.

But still no reply.

So, what do I do now?

Well, he said to await
further instructions, so...

we wait.

If you say so.

Stick to the plan.

Got it.

I'm headed into the area my dad and I

use as a workroom.

See anything out of the ordinary?

Just a bunch of stolen stuff.

That my dad and I
are totally going to return.


you totally will.


There's a note on the table.

What does it say?

You guys better get in here.

Like, now.

Hurry, please.

Sounds like she's panicking.

Everyone move now!

- Dorothy?
- In here.



What the hell is going on?

Ask them.

We're being watched.

By who?

Whoever wrote this note.

You guys hear that sound?

It's the gas. Go. Go...

Knight, Knight. I got you, I got you.

I'm sorry, Agent Parker.

I had to do what the note said.


Smart girl.

I did what you asked.

Now where is my father?

Bring the hard drive to Rock Creek Park.

The Old Quarry Trailhead.

And hurry.

Daddy dearest won't wait forever.






- Dad!
- Dor...

- Dorothy...
- Are you okay?

What-what did they do to you?

Where's the hard drive?

Who the hell are you?

I'm the man asking for that
hard drive one last time.

Take it.

Now leave us alone. It's over.

Not yet.

What the hell are you doing?

We-we had a deal.
I gave you the hard drive!

And I let your father live.

Just long enough to get what I want.


NCIS warned me this would happen.

Probably should've listened
to the good guys.

Who said I didn't?


Drop your w*apon, hands up.

I told them about the gas my dad and I

keep at that office complex.

Instead of a tranquilizer,

I opened a harmless t*nk
of compressed air.

We had a feeling you might be watching.

Are you okay?

Will be.

Nate Billings of Alexandria, Virginia.

It's not your real name
or your real address.

Outside of a fake ID

and a professionally
Photoshopped family photo,

you don't exist.

Which either makes you a ghost...

Or a spy.

A spy that got a thief
to do his dirty work for him.

But you didn't fully trust Dorothy

to steal that hard drive, did you?

So you followed her

to make sure she did what you said.

That's why you were
in the parking garage

when the gas was accidentally released.

Explains a lot.

What it doesn't explain

is why you went to all this trouble

for a hard drive filled with

seemingly worthless photos.

Who do you work for?

It's time to call a lawyer.

That's your right. You got a number?

Try the Russian embassy.

This guy is working for Russia?

Of course, we can't prove that.
Not officially.

But within hours of calling
the Russian embassy,

they filed extradition papers.

Which means that "Nate Billings"

is now in the custody
of the U.S. State Department.

And let me guess, they're not
letting us talk to him.

No. Last thing the State wants
is more bad blood with Russia.

Our best lead is gone.

Along with any chance of finding out

who wanted my photos or why.

I'm afraid so.

- That's unfortunate.
- Of course,

we'll let you know if any
new information comes to light.

Thank you, Director.


And in the meantime, Agent Parker,

I trust you'll let me know

where I can get a proper varenyky.

- Gentlemen.
- Mm-hmm.

A "proper varenyky"?
Is that a euphemism?

It is now.

Oh, good. You're both here.

- Can we help you, Ms. Hines?
- Maybe.

I finished processing
Senator Miller's photo libraries

and I might have found a
connection to the Russians.

Do these three people look familiar?

That's Delilah's former TA.

Evelyn Shaw.

And the other two
are Rene and John Watts.

Your ex's kid had

a run-in with them.

We've recently arrested
all three of these people

for being Russian sleeper spies.

Turns out, they were active volunteers

on Senator Miller's
last reelection campaign.

And what does this prove?

- Technically nothing.
- Four Russian spies

in as many months,

all with an interest
in the same U.S. senator?

That doesn't sound like a coincidence.

Sounds like we need to keep digging.

Yes. But quietly.

Until NCIS has something
that we can prove.

Thank you, Agent Knight.

First time anyone's ever thanked me

for handing them over to the FBI.

I meant for saving my dad's life.

I'd rather face jail time
than lose him forever.

I know how you feel.

Hey. Anything new on your dad?

Uh, he is out of surgery.

And now I'm just waiting for the doctors

to call with an update.

How about you?

Any updates on your eggs?

Oh, they are not eggs anymore.


That's pretty cute.

Hey, all that, uh,
positive energy paid off.


Let's just hope it travels
further than the Yukon.

Oh, it does.

I just got an update
from the hospital in Japan.


I told them I was
your dad's primary care

physician here in the States.

It turns out the doctors
found wound botulism

in your dad's arm.

Apparently, after the bike accident,

some toxic spores from the dirt

got into the compound fracture
and spread. It's rare.

It's like-like
"what-are-the-chances" rare.


Is my dad gonna be okay?

Oh, I'm sorry. I-I thought
from my positive outlook here

and giant smile that it was clear.


Hey, Dad.
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