14x03 - The Body Stitchers

[bunniefuu]

Welcome.
We're gonna start.

People are paying to watch them

cut people up alive.

And they're making a lot
of money at it, too.

Albert Bar ring ton. Cindy says
you're looking for the owner

of that BMW that
came in yesterday.Yeah.

Anything you can tell us? Bobby brought
it in, but the owner wasn't with him.

He's on a tow at the moment.
Should be back inside an hour.

Federal agents. What do you mean
"federal agents"?

Robert Griffin?

He was convicted
of a m*rder in '93.

Hold on a second.
Who were we talking to?

Didn't Agent Rand
say there was more than one?

This whole
time we were talking to...

The K*llers.

What is death?

I ask you knowing
there is no true definition.

To die, to be dead
is only an interpretation

of what we believe it to be.

They said that life,
my friends, is art,

and art itself is life.

If that is our truth,

then how can anyone
truly ever die?

The thing that transcends death
is art.

And so now it is time

to bear witness to that art.

We are here to be immersed

in the intimately
painful experience

that is God's truth
in human expression.

Life is petty and short,

but art, my brothers
and sisters,

art lasts a millennium.

Yeah, well done.

Dad.

Lord.

Dad.
Yes, son?

What's this?

Well, it looks like a turd.

Look closer.

What, you gonna put the turd
in my face?

It's a cigar butt.
And there's four more of them

in the backyard.

Okay.

Who are you calling?

G. Callen. Looks like you two
need to start an investigation.

Stop it. He's out of town. Oh, no.

Well, then, maybe
we should call SECNAV.

So you're smoking cigars now?

Well, it's not mine.

Well, whose is it?

It belongs to Arkady.

What?!

Arkady Kolcheck.
Russian. Ex-KGB.

I know who Arkady is.

I got to get to work ASAP.

But this has been so pleasant.

Arkady's not allowed
in this house.

Well, it's not like he's
napping in your bed.

Excuse me?

Go on to work, son.

My happiness can wait.

No one goes in my bed, Dad.

You understand that? Yeah, yeah, mm-hmm.

Uh, uh!

Yo, Kens.Hey. What's going on?

FBI's calling.

A Senior Special Agent
Lisa Rand?

Oh, yeah, we worked together.

She's a great agent.
What did she say?

Okay, so I remember this case.

It was legendary at the Bureau.

These people, like,
sewed body parts together

and made, like,
Frankenstein monsters.

Yeah, we worked that case.

Yeah, I heard there was
another agency on it.

So it's true.
It was you guys.

Sickest thing I've ever
seen in my life.

Put all of us
in a very dark place.

I can imagine.
Yeah.

Let's go see what
Rand has to say.

Agent Rand, good to see you.

Same here.

This is forensic psychologist

Special Agent Zachary Collins.

He's from the Behavioral
Analysis Unit-2.

Nice to meet you.

Uh, so something came up

regarding the Body
Stitchers case?

Short answer, we obtained
some information

that the group is
back in Los Angeles.

That information
turned out to be true.

Bringing up the case file now.

Oh, my God.

I'm so sorry.
We should have warned you.

Am I seeing what
I think I'm seeing?

Yeah. They sewed
body parts together

from different people.

Do we have a motive for this?

On the surface it's because

they believe they're
creating a type of art.

They construct these bodies

and then charge,
via the dark web,

large sums of money
for viewings.

So it's financial.

Well, the money is
what enables them

to keep doing this.

The generic theory
for a group like this is,

it's sexually motivated.

They've eroticized v*olence
at a young age.

For them, v*olence
and sexuality are intertwined.

Albert Bar ring
ton, Cindy Ferguson

Justin Tucker, Bobby Griffin.

There have been sightings
in the U.S.

and Central and South America,
but they've evaded capture

every time we've
gotten close to them.

And why is that?
Why has it been

so difficult to
capture these guys?

Simply put, they're twisted
but not stupid.

Based on what we've seen,

they only stay in the country
for a few weeks.

They put on a show
and then they quickly move on,

often avoiding ports of entry.

I mean, these guys have
over a dozen aliases.

They're purchasing identities
from the dark web almost weekly.

We need your help.

You're the only people to have
actually seen them in person

and spoken with them.

This no longer concerns

national security
or criminal activity

within the U.S. Naval Service,

so OSP's involvement
will be limited.

I understand.
The FBI is asking for

NCIS's assistance
as either advisers

or part of the task force.

We will take whatever
we can get.

This is unfinished business
for us.

No, this is unfinished
business for the FBI.

They m*rder*d and dismembered
a Navy lieutenant commander.

I read the report.

Lieutenant Commander Weir
was a random victim.

With all due respect, sir,
random or not,

a member of the United States
Navy was cut to pieces.

Okay. But if assets
need to be

brought back into this office,

your involvement
ends immediately.

Understood.
Okay.

Thank you.
I'm landing in 20.

I'm sending you the address
to the crime scene.

We'll see you there. Copy that.

Bring Sam up to speed.

We'll meet him there. On it.

Keep me posted.
Of course, sir.

Lisa.
Guys.

Not the happiest of reunions.

Yeah, you could say that.

Mark Collins.

Sam Hanna.
Good to meet you.

Good to have
some additional eyes on this

who know what we're
dealing with.

So where did the information
that these guys were

in L.A. come from?

LAPD was investigating
the m*rder of a woman

named Staci Campbell.

They have a suspect
named Michael Jeffries.

He was seen with Staci
the night of her m*rder.

LAPD got a warrant
for a phone tap yesterday.

Jeffries got a text
with this address

and a photo of various
body parts.

By the time we got here,
everybody was gone.

This was the only thing
left behind.

Our little gift.

The photo turned out
to be the body parts used

to put this thing together.

I got to talk to
the medical examiner,

- but that appears to be freezer burn.
- Makes sense.

If they don't have enough
for a full physique,

they've got to preserve
appendages

until they collect enough parts
to make a full body.

Well, that's not disturbing.

But if that's true,
that would completely

mess with time of death.

Jeffries is our only
connection to these people.

Do we have him in custody?

Not for long. We don't
have much to hold him.

We weren't even able
to get a warrant

to search his apartment.

Jeffries was only seen
with Staci that night.

Nothing else ties him
to the m*rder.

Feel like letting NCIS
take a cr*ck at him?

Oh, please.
Be my guest.

Worth a sh*t.

All right. Deeks and I,
we'll go with Collins

and work on Jeffries.

Got it. You want
to partner up? Absolutely.

Be careful. You, too, babe.

Yeah, what could
possibly go wrong?

Agent Rand, we got it open.

You need to see this.

Oh, my God.

Call the coroner.

Tell them we're gonna
need a couple vans.

Four people, Deeks.

They lied right to my face.

They k*lled these people,
they dismembered the bodies,

and they sewed them together.

And we had 'em. I know, I know.

But sometimes bad guys get away.

But this is different.

Tell me about it, Agent Hanna.

Admiral?

I mean, you were
with the suspects.

You spoke with them.

So instead of wallowing
in the fact

that you missed something,

why don't you tell us
what you learned from them?

The way they were able to
manipulate the investigation

was extraordinary.

They knew exactly
how to work us.

The time that it took to do
what they did

to Weir and the others...

I mean, the planning,
the execution, the intelligence

was off the charts. And the funny thing is,

they didn't present as smart.

Good to know.

Jeffries knows we barely
have anything.

He's shrewd.
He's not talking.

Which means we're gonna
have to let him go soon.

What do we know about him?

No record.
He's unemployed.

He's a local.
Most of his earnings

come from short-selling
stocks online.

Any connections to the victims?

He lived in the same
building as Staci Campbell.

And so far no connections to
any of the Body Stitchers.

I've got Kensi and Agent Rand.

LAPD said that the super
of the apartment building

where Jeffries and Staci live

is the witness who
saw them together.

Figured we'd take
another run at him.

Yeah, we need
something to nail Jeffries,

and then use that to force him

to give us information
on the Stitchers.

Okay, we'll give it
our best sh*t.

Let us know if
you find anything.

Got it.

Okay, you two are up.

Regardless of how it went
the last time,

remember who you are.

Put the past in the past,
get this thing done.

Hold that thought.

So, Mike... Sorry.

Do-do you mind if
we call you Mike?

Sure.

See, we're worried about you.

We're worried that
you look around this shed

and you hear the ocean,

that you smell the
scent of the sea...

Breathe the clean air,
feel the cool breeze.

We're worried, with all
that Pacific splendor,

that you're missing
the cold, hard truth.

I didn't k*ll Staci.

We were neighbors.
I never touched her.

That's not the truth
we're talking about.

So what is it?

That you're deep
in federal custody.

That you're surrounded by
frustrated and angry agents

from multiple agencies.

And we're hungry,

and you're the only thing
on the menu.

Well, then, I guess
the kitchen's closed

because you don't have
anything on me.

Well, maybe not
on Staci Campbell yet,

but we have you in connection
with serial K*llers

who have crossed
several jurisdictions

and done some very,
very bad things.

Including the abduction
and m*rder

of a highly decorated
naval officer.

That's some hard-core time,
Mikey.

I mean, that's Leavenwor...
Is that Leavenworth time?

That's Leavenworth time.

But that has nothing
to do with me.

See, that's what's interesting,

'cause we have
conclusive evidence

you were in contact
with these people, Mike.

Provided 'em with finances.

Have intimate knowledge
of their operations.

I'm just a fan of their work.

What, you're just, you're just
a good old-fashioned

patron of the arts?

People love true crime
and serial K*llers.

They eat that up.

Is that wrong?

I didn't know that
these people were murderers.

Where did you imagine
the bodies came from?

Oh, damn, that's
a good question.

Uh, grave robbers.

The morgue.
I don't know.

I just watch their performances.

That's all I know about them.

Philip Guerrero.

FBI Special Agent Rand,
Special Agent Blye, NCIS.

Special agents?

Is this about
the young lady in 2-B?

Yeah, Staci Campbell.

Yeah. She was a good tenant.
Nice girl.

We know you've answered
these questions already,

but could you tell us
again what you saw?

Maybe you'll remember details

that may help us
figure out who k*lled her.

Look, I only saw Mike and Staci

walking into the courtyard
together, that's it.

They were talking.
They seemed fine.

Could you hear what
they were saying?

Yeah. They were talking about
how the delivery people

leave too many menus
at the mailboxes.

Did anybody else see them?

Not that I know of.

How about any other friends?

Someone else in the building
we could talk to?

Nah, they both kept to thems...

Oh, I mean,
there's Mrs. Jeffries.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Jeffries?
His wife?

No, Mike's mother.

She moved in with him...
last month?

She's an invalid.

Had a partial stroke.

She's a nice lady.

I bring her food deliveries
from time to time.

That's very thoughtful of you.

Mrs. Jeffries?

Her room's way in the back.

She might not be able
to hear us.

Well, if she's by herself,
maybe you should check on her.

Yeah, right. Of course.

Mm-hmm.

Mrs. Jeffries?

Mrs. Jeffries? Hey, guys. Any luck?

Negative. Look, we know
that they've been using

the dark web to sell
tickets to their shows.

All the money leads
to offshore accounts,

which are all

pretty much dead ends.

Mr. Guerrero.

Kens!
Yep.

Mrs. Jeffries?

Ma'am?

Don't breathe in.

Hey, guys, so,
due to the health hazard,

LAPD has finished
clearing out the complex.

All residents have been
temporarily relocated.

Are you sure that you
and Agent Rand are okay?

Yeah. As soon as we
smelled the vapor,

we didn't breathe in.

Guerrero, however,
took a big hit

on those sulfuric acid fumes,

so the medic is
taking a look at him.

We think it's the mom?

It seems to be,

but we have to wait
for that positive ID.

Sulfuric acid is easy to get.

It'll be impossible to trace.

Okay. What else do we have?

Uh, we know that the Stitchers

frequently bought
their identities

on the dark web,
but we have no idea

where those IDs originated.

What about the crypto?

Same. The problem is,
the dark web is

a vast chasm of
seemingly endless

repetitive data.

So unless we have
a clear starting point,

this could take days.

Which we don't have.

And these guys don't stay
in the same place very long.

Pretty sure it's Mrs. Jeffries.

We found her titanium knee.

All right, people,
what are we thinking here?

Maybe she knew something that
would incriminate her son,

so he k*lled her.

Ultimately,
that might not track,

unless he had an accomplice.

But given the lack
of corrosion in the tub

and the amount
of remaining tissue,

this is less than 12 hours old.

So Jeffries couldn't
have done it.

He would already be in custody.

All right, let's talk
to Jeffries

about his mother's m*rder

and gauge his reaction
to the news.

On it.

Oh, good, three of you.

Must be my lucky day.

Tell us about your mother.

Why? What about her?

When's the last time
you saw her?

Well, obviously before this.

We know she has health problems.

She had a stroke.

Why do you suddenly care
so much about my mom?

You never mentioned her.

She's sick, she's old.

Seems like you would
have somebody looking

after her while you're here.

Did she say something to you?

She's dead, Mike.

Somebody tried to melt her
in a tub filled with acid.

What?
Is that true?

Yeah.

Do you know who'd
want to hurt her?

This is your fault.

You guys, you did this.

We had nothing to do with this.

He did.

Look, you...
you don't get it.

These guys are gonna know
the Feds went to that location.

They're gonna know
they got the location

from one of us.

There are very few people
that know the time and place

of these performances.

I'm probably the only one
on the list

that bought a seat
that didn't show up.

So then they k*ll your mom?

Mike, that doesn't
make any sense.

I wasn't there.
She was.

I mean, maybe she saw
their faces,

or maybe it was retribution.

I mean, they have to figure
that I'm the one

that gave up the location.

Or she knew you
m*rder*d Staci Campbell,

and you thought she was
gonna tell the police,

and so you paid somebody
to turn her into

a puddle of melted butter.

You can believe
whatever you want.

But I need protection
from these people.

They're gonna k*ll me.

I'll give you the location
on the dark web

where you can find the
information about their shows.

Really?
Yes.

But you have to protect me.

Yeah.

All right, the address that
Jeffries sent us is legit.

So, this is the site
where the Stitchers

promote their "art"
and receive crypto?

Yeah, but it's wiped clean now.

Yeah, but the good news is,
once information is out

on the dark web,
it spreads and multiplies.

So regardless of how well

they think they covered
their tracks,

now we have their
encrypted email service.

Which gives us the ability
to search the dark web

for the new forum they move
information to.

So, even if they move again,

forum to forum,
we'll be able to track them.

Exactly. Hey.

Hey, Kens.

We are close. Should have
something for you soon.

Got it. Uh, I just
sent you a picture

that the coroner took
of Michael Jeffries' mother.

What the hell am I looking at?

So, that would be

Mrs. Jeffries' right forearm.

According to the coroner,

her right hand was sawed off

with a serrated blade.

He said it happened before
she was put into the acid.

Well, that's
the Stitchers' M.O.

Jeffries could be
telling the truth.

He might be the target.

His mom could have been
collateral damage.

I found the Stitchers'
new forum.

What is that?

A live stream.

It's gonna start soon
but it's password-protected.

Let me work on this.

Oh, geez, this is how they're
making all their money.

And it's not just
the live audience.

They're selling this
all over the world.

Cracked the password.
Live stream's up.

Looks like it still
hasn't started.

We got an address?

Abandoned theater complex
in Woodland Hills.

Address is on your phones.

All right, we'll meet you there.

Oh, no.

What is it, Agent Rountree?

Level three domestic
t*rror1st warning.

What? Intel coming in
about a possible att*ck

in San Pedro regarding
an OSP case.

Like I said, assets will have
to come back to the office.

Who's gonna deal with this?

I got it. I got it. Go.
Go quickly. Go.

You sure? Go. Yeah.

We have to get everyone
in position.

You heard her.

SWAT's on the way, but they're
still 30 minutes out.

Well, we can't wait.
Let's go. All right.

Do we know which theater? Uh, no.

How many theaters are there? Sixteen.

Great. All right, looks like
we got to split up.

Okay, we'll take five. I got six.

This place is huge,
there's too many places to hide.

They could be anywhere.

Comms aren't great in here.

Stay alert.

Today will be the Harvest.

This is where we acquire
our raw materials,

and enjoy a moment
witnessing the razor's edge

between life and death.

I found them. Theater eight.

- One minute away.
- Coming to you.

...does not
come simply from my motivational tools.

No, the real secret is
enabling this man

to bear witness
to his own suffering

for as long as humanly possible.

Who is that?
Hold your fire.

Federal agents.
Do not move!

FBI. Do not move!

Freeze!
Hands above your head.

Drop the Kn*fe.

I need an EMT
outside theater eight.

- I'm fine. Al Bar ring ton.
- Copy that.

That way. All right, I got it.

Easy, easy, easy.

Son of a bitch.

Hallway's clear.

You're okay.
You're gonna be okay.

Get him some water, blankets.

We're gonna need to
question him.

We got Bobby Griffin.
He's dead.

I'm still trying to
figure out who sh*t him.

Federal agent!

Stand up.

Hands where I can
see them. Up.

Take off your mask.

Cindy Ferguson.

Long time no see.

Turn around.

Right hand behind
your back, now.

You're not getting
away... again.

Hey, federal agent!
Do not move.

You're Justin Tucker.

I know who you are.
This is over.

Drop the Kn*fe.

That's su1c1de, man,
you know that.

Drop the Kn*fe.

Hey!

Ah...

Damn it.

I've got Justin Tucker
going down the east elevator.

Is anyone down there?

I've got eyes on the elevator.

He's got a Kn*fe.
Proceed with caution.

Guys, he just stopped
the elevator between floors.

Coming to you.Copy.

This is FBI Agent Collins.

Justin Tucker,
we know who you are.

This is over.

There are federal agents
on every floor.

Just bring the elevator back.

Not coming out.

I-I want a cell phone.

What do you want
a cell phone for?

I want to speak to Vincent.

Who's Vincent?

Vincent is the last
living great master.

You know what he's
talking about?

Mm-mm.

Agent down! Agent down!

Collins, is that you?

If you can hear me,
I'm coming for you.

Collins!
I'm here.

Geez, you okay?

It was Bar ring ton.

He hit me in the head.

Cut my neck.

Uh, we got a Kn*fe wound.
I need medical assistance.

Come on.

Hello?!

The comms aren't working.

These walls must be
blocking the signal.

I'm okay.
He took off that way.

Get him.

I'm okay.
Are you sure?

Yeah. Go, go, go.

Bar ring ton!

Damn it.

Albert Bar ring ton...

this is NCIS.

It's over.

Give yourself up.

Come on, Al, it's done.

Oh, you got to be kidding me.

Bar ring ton!

This Vincent,
does he have a last name?

I'm not telling you that.

I just need to speak to him.

Okay, look, I'm not gonna send
anybody else in there.

I already have a wounded agent.

Yeah, I hear you.

Give me a minute.
Let me talk to Deeks.

Well, you know where I'll be.

Okay, Alexander,
do you recognize him?

Yeah, he was there, too.

He held me down while the
two other guys cuffed me.

What about her?

Yeah, she was there.

He's identified all of them.Wait.

Wait, you don't have a photo
of the main guy?

I'm sorry, there was
someone else there?

Yeah.

Yeah. Whoever he was,
he was in charge.

I swear I thought I heard
one of them call him "Master."

Master? What did he look like?

I just heard his voice.

Tucker keeps asking to talk
to a guy named Vincent.

Says he's the last great master.

What about Cindy Ferguson?

FBI's taking her back
to the boat shed.

But I'm gonna ask her about
this great master Vincent guy,

see what she says.

It's definitely worth a sh*t.

All right, we'll see if we can
find Albert Bar ring ton.

If not, we'll head back.

Got it. See you guys
in a minute.

I think I've got him
coming up. Good.

It's been five minutes.

Do we have a deal?

You're giving me a guarantee?

Yes. You come out,
we take you into custody,

you can call Vincent.

I promise, Justin.
I don't lie.

Okay.

Drop the Kn*fe, Justin.

I said drop the Kn*fe.

Come on, Justin,
you're surrounded.

Drop the Kn*fe.

No! No!

We need an EMT at the elevator,
second floor, now.

Copy that.

Remember me?

I don't remember
insignificant people.

You know who's insignificant?

People who spend
their entire lives

in a twelve-by-seven cement box
with a four-inch window.

And that's about to be you.

Imagination can turn that box
into the Grand Canyon,

or the Palace at Versailles.

I want to know about
Michael Jeffries.

How long has he been
working with you?

I don't know who that is.

But let me ask you a question.

Okay, sh**t.

Is talking to you worth my time?

Or is it just taking up space
in my head

that could be used for more
creative and beautiful thoughts?

She's not gonna give us
anything, she's too committed.

Hmm.
You simply don't know art.

What are you gonna do
with Jeffries?

Not much.
We got nothing to hold him.

Good news is Jeffries' lawyer
is still asking

we put him into
witness protection.

That's the next best thing
besides having him in custody.

That is your job.

What about
your Domestic t*rror1st alert?

They just needed
some case information.

It's all taken care of.

What is it?

I'd like another sh*t at her.

Something's not right.

I love it
when he gets that look.

I remember you.

Oh, the three of us,
back together again.

How's the car?

Get a good repair shop?

See what I've been dealing with?

Let me talk to her.

Oh, please do.

But it was going so well.

So...

Special Agent Sam Hanna.

And I'm here to inform you

because of your lack
of cooperation,

we're going to be turning you
over to the FBI for processing.

I was never going
to cooperate with you. We know.

Because you're stupid.

You know

who isn't stupid?

Vincent.

That's right.
We got him.

Right now, he's telling the FBI

everything they need
to know about you.

For everything he says,
he gets time off his sentence,

and puts you behind bars
for the rest of your life.

You don't have him in custody.

You never will.

Sorry. Done deal. We got him.

Doesn't matter.

He's a great master.

Is he your master?

Help me understand this.

Nobody's my master.

So, he's not your master.

He's somebody else's master?

Uh, what do you think we are...
Some kind of a cheesy cult?

I'm just

a government employee.
Explain it to me.

He's a great master,

like Leonardo da Vinci,

Michelangelo,

Renoir, these humans

who changed the world

with their imagination
and a pencil.

So Vincent is a master artist?

Yeah, Vincent,
like Vincent van Gogh.

Uh... You know?

Yeah.

He's the great master
behind the bodies.

It's his vision.

We're just his apprentices,
learning the art.

The art
of sewing bodies together?

God. Isn't it beautiful?

If not beautiful,
at least affecting, right?

You have to acknowledge that.

Oh, you're right.

I'll never forget it.

Nobody will.

Ever.

Through his art,
Vincent made us immortal.

In a sense, he made us gods.

We would die for him.

I got to tell you, Pop,
this meal was great.

Figure my
cooking'll give you a reason

to keep me around.

There's a fight tonight.

WBA middleweight championship.
You want to watch it?

Wonder who that is.

Ah, that's Arkady,
but don't worry.

I told him he can't come inside.

What's he doing here?

Well, he's coming to pick me up.

Taking me to poker night.

I assume
there's going to be drinking.

Mm. Good whiskey,
I hope.

You want me
to be happy about it?

Well, son, I-I-I...

I-I'd think that you'd be happy

that I have a friend,
somewhere to go.

Perhaps even have a few laughs.

Dad, I get it.

I'm just doing the best I can
to take care of you.

Yeah. Samuel,

I don't know how long I have,
but I'm going to live it.

As full a life as it can be.

I want that, too.
Have fun, Dad.

Thanks.

Hey, um, you have any
extra cash, stake my game?

A couple of hundred bucks
will do it.

A couple hundred bucks on
my salary? Are you kidding me?

Come on, son.
I'm just messing with you.

Yeah. Don't let
Arkady cheat you, huh?

Please.

Hey. Thought you was on a plane.

I just got to the airport.

Listen, I think
we missed something.

What?

I just sent you
the preliminary autopsy report.

The M.E. said
that given the blood lividity

in Jeffries' mother,
she was dead at least 48 hours

before she was put
in the acid bath.

That's before
Jeffries was in custody.

I think he k*lled his mother.

And if Jeffries was the one
who cut off her hand...

Then he's involved
with the Body Stitchers.

Where is he now?

Collins took him to a safe house

in San Diego
for protective custody.

You want to have
another conversation with him?

Hell yeah. Let me know
when you talk to Collins.

Of course.

Hey, Sam.

Fatima. Look, I know it's late.

It's okay. I'm up.

Did you get the, uh, security
cameras around the theater yet?

Kaleidoscope's still
working on it.

I can log in
and see if we got a hit

on Albert Bar ring ton
exiting the theater?

That'd be great.

Is something wrong?

I'm not sure. Just let me know
when you find something.

Yeah, of course.

All right.

Ooh.

Hey. How'd it go?

Dementia can eat my shorts.

Have a good night, son.

Good night, Pop.

Kaleidoscope found
this security camera that showed

Albert Bar ring ton leaving
the theater out the back door.

I'm zooming in.

He has someone helping him.

Someone wearing a dress shirt.

I can't remember.
Does that shirt match any

of the audience members?

No. Now keep searching.

Let me know
if you find anything else.

You got it.

Albert Bar ring ton?

This is NCIS.

It's over.

He's gone.

Let's move.

The whole state's going
to be looking for us after this.

The sooner we're out of here,
the better.

I wrote
in your psychological profile

that you're most likely headed
to Florida,

to your hometown, Orlando.

Don't worry about it.

In a few hours, you'll be
halfway around the world

sipping rum on a beach.

Let me ask you something.

How well do you know
Special Agent Collins?

I met him once I started working
the Body Stitchers case.

He asked me
if he could get involved.

He's profiled
many serial K*llers.

Figured I could use his help.
Why?

It's a present from my mother.

She wanted to give you a hand.

Thank you.

Okay, we did good.

Got rid of the idiot amateurs
who were going to get us caught.

For as long as humanly possible.

Federal agents! Do not move!

We're going to lay low
for a very long time now.

I got you both IDs
with new identities,

plane tickets,
ten grand in cash.

Get in touch when you need more.

Eventually,
when we do come back together,

I'm thinking that we stop
making conventional bodies.

I mean, why make a body
with two arms

when you can make one
with five arms and three legs,

maybe a head
growing out of a stomach?

Think about it.

What would Picasso or Dalí do?

I just got a text from the agent

at the San Diego safe house.

Collins and Jeffries
still haven't shown up.

I got a bad feeling.

I think something might have
happened to Collins.

I think
it may be worse than that.

What are you thinking?

Yeah, Vincent,
like Vincent van Gogh.

Uh... You know?

I know why you haven't been able
to catch 'em all these years.

He's been feeding 'em
information, protecting 'em.

Who was?

I think Special Agent Collins
is Vincent.