Wake him up.
- I don't know. Maybe he needs the rest. - He's not resting. Look at him.
His eyeballs are disco dancing under those lids.
- Disco dancing, is that back? - It's Gibbs. It never left.
McGee should have...
hours ago.
Norfolk office opens in...
24 minutes.
It's a 193-mile drive.
Well, I was gonna call in.
Yeah?
And tell them what, McGee?
Well, that you needed me to work here today.
Why do I need you here?
Well, because I have an idea on how to speed up the search for him.
I'm listening.
Oh, Gibbs. I dig them.
Tell DiNozzo.
The database you're scanning has over 10 million photos.
It'll take a month to check them all.
Is your idea to depress me, McGee?
No, no, no, no, no. If we found out his precise age,
then we could limit the search to the year he turned 21.
73% of UK graduates are 21.
And scanning that year would cut down the search
to a couple of days.
It's a good idea, huh?
Oh, yeah, yeah. It's a hell of a good idea.
Just one problem.
How are we gonna find his age,
when we don't know who the hell he is!
Would you be less grumpy if you slept in a bed?
No, I would not!
I didn't think so.
The FBI has a software programme
they use on photos of children that have been missing for years
to show what they'd look like today.
I know what that ass looks like today, McGee.
I know you do, boss.
But, to create that programme, the FBI needed age-specific criteria.
So, McGee spent half the night using their criteria to develop a programme
that can tell a person's age from a photo.
I used the FBI algorithms for cardioidal strain,
pore size, wrinkles, adipose tissue and length of the nose and ears.
Which keep getting longer the older you get,
whether or not you wear earrings, so you might as well wear them.
This you can do?
I just need a couple hours to put it on your hard drive.
All right. That's worth a hall pass. I'll call Norfolk.
- He stay at your place? - Yep.
You sleep in the coffin, McGee?
Coffin?
You said that it was a boxed sofa-bed.
Well, it is. Sort of.
That's why you wouldn't turn the lights on.
Oh. I can't believe I slept in a coffin.
Not just slept.
- Hi. - Hey.
Okay. You're on, baby! You're on!
The steps. I'll get her on the steps.
Women can't run steps.
One of those is Marine One. It flies the President.
German?
Swedish.
Even better.
You speak any English?
Yeah. That's funny.
Okay. I gotta get in shape.
Mr. Prime Minister, welcome to the White House.
What do you think about what Sharon is doing?
Assassinating Hamas leaders or pulling settlements out of Gaza?
Either. I'm just trying to start a conversation.
- I'm John. Ag Department. - Kate. NCIS.
Hi. Really?
Yes. Why?
I've never seen you. I'm in NCIS twice a month.
- You are? - Yeah, I specialise in actuarial analysis.
Hail and storm damage.
What NCIS do you think I'm with?
National Crop Insurance Service?
That's us.
Oh, yeah, she's a whiz on how corn losses affect pork belly futures.
Excuse me.
- My boss. - Oh.
- A weird sense of humour. - Yeah, I...
"How corn losses affect pork belly futures"?
Rule number seven: Always be specific when you lie.
Why are you bringing me coffee
from your caffeine dealer two blocks away?
And don't use rule seven.
You want that or not?
I take my coffee with milk and sweetener.
Taste it.
- A little strong. - Strong's better.
Gibbs, you're making me nervous.
Scary scenarios are popping into my head,
like you're here to fire me
or to tell me that I'm going undercover as DiNozzo's wife.
I want you to profile a terrorist.
- What terrorist? - The one you couldn't stab.
Ducky tell you that?
It's true.
Why?
His eyes.
I was looking into his eyes, and they looked kind.
Did he look kind when he blew out Gerald's shoulder?
You asked me why I couldn't stab him, and I told you.
Contrary to conventional wisdom, Kate, eyes can lie.
You meet him again, don't forget that.
I won't.
I won't!
Profile him.
He's not an Islamic fanatic.
Never used their rhetoric. No mention of jihad, Allah, infidels.
Whatever drives him, it isn't martyrdom.
- Revenge? - Could be.
Maybe money.
A Hamas terrorist...
in it for the money?
Well, he's not in it for the 70 virgins. He'd have no trouble attracting women.
Don't go there.
- Why money? - I just get the feeling that he lives large.
He was well groomed. Manicured nails, perfect teeth.
Salon-styled hair.
Gibbs, what is it with your hair?
What's wrong with my hair?
Nothing, nothing. Your hair is...
- you. - Yeah. Thank you.
What else?
He's intelligent, bold, willing to take big risks.
- Why? - Why not?
Why did he give me a chance to kill him?
He had a flak vest. Knew you'd double-tap him in the chest.
What if I shot him in the head?
It's a risk he had to take to make his escape plan work.
No, he did not.
He could have killed me in cold blood.
HRT comes in.
He throws a flash bang.
Either way, he escapes. It's the same.
You're right.
Why'd he give you a shot at him?
He needs to face death to feel alive.
Maybe to feel anything.
Nice bike, Mr. Craig.
It's a motorcycle.
A bike is something one pedals.
- Smoky Sam. - Quad launcher. Four missiles.
- Maximum altitude? - 1,400 feet.
We dogfight well above that.
Unless you're flying ultralights, Smoky Sam can't hurt you.
It's just phenolic paper and Styrofoam.
Wannabe aces must pay good money to pretend to dogfight.
They don't pretend.
We fly aerobatic aircraft armed with laser guns,
smoke emitters, combat sounds in their headsets...
It's very real.
Except we don't permit dying.
How about pissing their pants?
Smoky Sam looks awful real coming up at you.
Navy uses them at Top Gun.
- It's all set, Marv. - Thanks, Matt.
- Wanna launch it? - Why not?
Good morning, Kate!
That grin can only mean one thing.
- And what is that? - You're in love. Again.
You are so right.
- What's this one's name? - She's Swedish.
You don't know her name.
How can you be in love with someone and not...
I forgot, it's you we're talking about.
You have mail.
- Let me see who misses me, today. - Tiffany. Crystal. Fanny.
The girls down on the farm.
- You hacked into my computer? - No.
Ever since you used mine, all I get is porn spam.
- Like you never opened an X-rated site. - Never.
You know, that's sad.
- Why? - 'Cause I believe you.
Where's the boss?
MTAC. Talking to Bahrain.
Tony... l'm worried about him.
Gibbs? That's like worrying about Jim Bowie in a knife fight.
Bowie was killed at the Alamo.
I know, I saw the movie.
Tony, he's fixated on that terrorist.
Not fixated. Determined.
Like Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive,
like the Duke in The Searchers, Mel Gibson in Payback.
- You ever read a book? - Kate,
"determined" is good in a cop.
Not when it turns into obsession.
Gibbs surprised me at DC Beans this morning.
He bought me coffee
and then he probed me about that terrorist
like it happened yesterday, not months ago.
Wow, that is serious. He's never bought me coffee.
- Tony. - Kate.
Gibbs is like a dog.
He'll gnaw at an old bone till you throw him a steak.
When he's done with the steak, he goes back to the old bone.
And the terrorist is Gibbs' old bone.
Let's hope he doesn't choke on it.
Damn it, Daniel!
Mossad is lying to you!
This bastard is too good not to be on their radar.
They swear they have nothing. Not even a Hamas code name.
Israelis tracked down Sheik Yassin and Rantisi
in the heart of Gaza.
You cannot tell me that they do not know who this guy is.
Gibbs, I can only tell you what they tell me.
Any chance he's not Hamas?
What if he's someone freelance,
brought in to clean up their Little Creek debacle?
Hamas is like the Mafia.
They'd never trust anyone outside the family.
Then Mossad has to have a dossier on him.
If they're holding out, it could be to take him out themselves.
He's not in the Middle East. He is here.
Where'd you get that intel?
My gut.
Thank you.
That was President Bush leaving...
The Marines are window dressing.
Only the two Secret Service agents on Marine One are armed.
Marine One, with Bush and Sharon, will depart the White House at 7:00 p.m.
It will meet two identical Marine helos at the Washington Memorial.
All three Sea Kings will then fly to the Potomac
and follow it north toward Maryland,
switching positions now and then to conceal which of them is Marine One.
The flight path to Bear Island is always the same.
After that, they can fly a number of routes to Camp David.
Simi and Abdul will take the Zodiac to Bear Island
and set up Smoky Sam in these woods on the south end.
I have picked you for this vital mission,
because every rock you threw as boys at Israeli tanks
has missed.
And that is good. We want to miss.
They can't realise these are training missiles.
They must think they've been fired at by shoulder-launched rockets.
That scenario requires all of them
to execute an immediate emergency landing.
Bassam.
This field is the only area within miles
where they can land as a unit.
When they do...
we hit them.
We disable Marine One's tail rotor with a rifle grenade
and destroy the other two helos with the RPGs.
And capture the butchers Bush and Sharon
to exchange for our imprisoned brothers in Israel.
How do you know which is Marine One?
A bird is going to tell me.
Okay. Now make him older than mummy dust.
That's so cool!
Okay. Now like a young guy on his first date.
He wasn't a late bloomer like you, McGee.
He's so cute!
You think so?
Oh, well, not cuter than you.
- Abs, I'm trying to work. - Oh, sorry.
No, I like it. It's just, I can't concentrate.
Okay. What if I watch from way over here?
Hey.
- What are you doing? - Nothing.
Then do nothing at your desk!
- Gibbs, this is my lab. - Desk! Now!
And turn off the damn noise!
You got his age, McGee?
- Well, I just got the... - Yes or no?
No. If you give me a minute, I will, I think.
- You think? - No. Definitely I will.
Better?
Makes him 21 in 1990.
You keep scanning.
- You got it, boss. - And McGee,
you don't get a hit in three days,
I'm gonna think this was a ploy to play house.
Gibbs was like this just before his last divorce.
- We can't divorce him, Ducky. - You wouldn't want to, my dear,
- no matter how gruff he becomes. - Yeah.
So, maybe he'll take his frustrations out
on that mysterious redhead instead of us.
- Must you talk with your mouth full? - No.
So, who was Gibbs chasing when he divorced his last wife?
Had to be a redhead.
You're not Gibbs!
You do that again, you're going to be wearing that tuna salad!
He was after a child murderer.
Victim was five. Pretty little thing.
A deviant had sexually abused her and then beaten her to death.
Stuff like that makes me sick.
- Did Gibbs catch him? - Oh, yes, but it took nearly a year.
By then a second girl had been murdered.
Gibbs was a bit difficult to live with for a while after that.
- It's her! - Who?
The love of my life.
Oh.
What... When is he gonna grow up, Ducky?
It's in the genes, my dear.
In Italy, most boys Tony's age are still living with Mama.
Oh, gosh.
Gotta head out, got a Gitmo conference in 20 minutes.
It was Tony's turn to buy.
- I'll take care of it. - No, no.
- My treat. - No. That's not right.
Go, Kate. It's been a long, pale winter.
I need some sun before returning to my human jigsaw puzzle.
You don't want to go there.
You're right.
- Thanks for lunch, Ducky. - You're quite welcome.
Federal agent! Follow that motorcycle!
- Anything? - Not yet.
Thought I had a hit, but there weren't enough points.
Well, you trace it anyway, McGee!
I did. It's a biology teacher in Manchester.
I spoke to him. Sorry.
Stop apologizing. It's a sign of weakness.
Sorry. Right.
- Where's Kate and Tony? - Went to lunch with Ducky.
- When? - About an hour or so ago.
- I want "or so" in minutes, McGee. - Maybe 50.
Well, they could be following a lead.
Is that what you think they're doing, Agent McGee?
- No. No, I don't. - No.
This reminds me of a butcher I met in China.
He murdered someone and chopped up the body?
No, no. Claimed his big toe could predict earthquakes.
Said it tingled for hours
before a quake struck anywhere in the world.
Left foot. Yes, when I assured him
that many seismic events occur daily all around the globe,
he became very excited.
Said that explained why his big toe always tingled.
Didn't you point out the fallacy of his logic, Doctor?
Oh, no, no, no. He was so happy. I hadn't the heart.
Are you making this up, Dr. Mallard?
Good grief, no.
When one spends one's career travelling around the globe,
one has an unlimited supply of mysterious and intriguing tales.
Distal phalange. Right foot, I believe.
You're quite rare, Mr. Palmer.
- I am? - Yes.
Most new assistants would take one look at this lot
and head for the loo.
It's just a meat jigsaw puzzle.
- Ducky! - Gibbs.
Look what Special Agent Balboa found for me.
Just when I think nothing will surprise me.
It's pretty amazing, isn't it?
One has to admire the skill despite the depravity.
Where'd Balboa find it?
Oh, this poor fellow was found in a 55-gallon drum of alcohol
beside a dumpster at Bethesda Naval Hospital.
He'd been dissected by a sadist with a knowledge of anatomy...
Right ventricle, left atria.
You haven't done an autopsy.
Oh, Gibbs, I am so sorry. I should have realised.
It would have narrowed your search
for that bastard who put the bullet in Gerald's shoulder.
- It only just came to me. - What came to you, Ducky?
That bugger knew anatomy! I even asked him if he was a doctor.
He didn't reply, but I'll wager
he went to medical school in Britain!
Well, that wouldn't be hard to find out. Thanks, Duck.
Hey, you're more than welcome.
I'm just furious that I didn't think of it sooner.
Ducky, Kate and Tony come back from lunch with you?
No. Tony went off on one of his usual pursuits,
and Kate had to video conference with Gitmo.
Right big toe.
- We have a right big toe, Doctor. - Well, I already gave you a left big toe.
I know, sir.
Then how can we have...
Oh, my.
- McGee! - Sir?
- How long's medical school in the UK? - Four years.
Redirect your search.
Medical postgraduates, '94.
- He's a doctor? - Ducky thinks so. I'll be in MTAC.
If DiNozzo comes back, put him under house arrest.
Me?
Today, I'm pleased to welcome
Prime Minister Ariel Sharon back to the White House.
I think you said this is our eighth meeting.
Where's Gitmo?
Standing by, sir. I'll shift her to the main screen.
- No, I'll take it on the headset right here. - Yes, sir.
Agent Cassidy.
Hello, Agent Gibbs.
Where's Agent Todd?
She's not here. Why'd she ask for a video conference?
She wanted to discuss the Hamas Little Creek lead
I gave a while back.
You couldn't do that on the phone?
She wanted face-to-face.
Anything else?
Nope.
Hey, Tony.
I'll get back to you later, Agent Cassidy.
I'm standing by.
Hey, boss.
McGee said you wanted to see me.
Actually, he said I was under house arrest,
but I figured that was just your way of making a point.
Do I have to tell you the name of the creek you're up without a paddle
or how deep it is?
Up to my knees?
So you're familiar with this creek.
Boss, I'm sorry I took a long lunch, but I'm not working a hot case...
What's a hot case to you, DiNozzo? Shadowing a tight ass?
- That's not fair, boss... - War is not fair,
and we are at war.
Until I relieve you, which may be any moment now,
you will fight that war 24-7!
That includes sleeping, eating, taking a crap!
- You got it? - I got it. May I say something?
Only if it has to do with me catching that bastard I'm chasing.
- It does. - Then speak.
Boss, you really need to see Moby Dick.
It's on the left side on the belt!
Who's Gibbs?
Who is Gibbs?
My boyfriend. He calls me when he leaves the office.
- And where does he work? - Iraq.
Caitlin, did you miss me?
I apologise for Bassam's actions.
At least he didn't blow my shoulder out with a 9 mil.
Bassam, undo her cuffs.
How is Gerald?
Still in rehab. Asks every day if you're dead yet.
- Satisfied? - No.
He smacked me twice.
Being slapped by a woman is twice the insult to Bassam.
Really? What about being shot by one?
Why did Bassam strike her?
She would not tell who was calling her cell.
Oh, Gibbs called you.
I better call him back. Tell him where I am.
- He is my boss. - Of course.
But first some ice for your lip.
Then you may call him.
- Heard from Kate? - No.
I tried her home. Not there.
Can you give her a paddle?
It has to do with a creek Kate and I are up.
You told me I could call Gibbs.
On one condition.
Surprise, surprise.
And what am I to say?
You became quite ill after lunch.
You went to Emergency,
where it was diagnosed as food poisoning.
They pumped out your stomach, gave you an IV and sent you home.
You'll be fine tomorrow. You just need some sleep.
And if I don't say that?
Marta?
Tell our guest how you plan to entertain Agent DiNozzo tonight.
I will put a bullet in the back of his head
as I run my fingers through his hair.
Tony's right.
Never eat oysters in a month without an "R."
I'll be fine by tomorrow.
- She okay? - Food poisoning.
Food poisoning?
I need coffee.
Well, what's wrong, other than not catching the Hamas guy?
The Hamas guy! The terrorist! The bastard! The ass!
We call him everything but his name, DiNozzo. Do you know why?
- Because we don't know his name? - Because you're not working a hot case.
I want his name!
I want it today!
And don't tell me it's Moby Dick!
Wow.
Kate's right. I think Gibbs is losing it.
You don't really think he meant today, do you?
This slamming girl that I'm supposed to take out tonight.
And she's Swedish. Has this Swede accent.
- Tony? - Every Swedish girl
I've ever known has always let me...
- Tony! - What?
It's a very nice chardonnay, Caitlin.
And almost perfectly chilled.
I wish you'd taste it.
- Let her taste it. - I don't drink.
That's right.
Muslims don't use alcohol.
Well, not at home.
Perhaps if you thought of this as a weekend house party,
with you as the honoured guest.
And you the charming host?
Oh, many women find me charming.
You must pay them well.
We are leaving.
Do you know?
Do you know what?
It's why I'm here, isn't it?
Where is the pea?
You tell me where the pea is, Caitlin, and I will answer your question.
- Lucky guess. - Was it, Caitlin?
No. Now answer my question.
Once more. To satisfy Marta that it wasn't luck.
I told you, Marta.
Do you detect slight differences in the shells?
Why am I here?
To teach me this trick.
I'm quite serious.
Amazing.
How did they teach you to be so observant?
Who?
The Secret Service.
The president is flying to Camp David with Sharon today.
I saw those missiles.
You want to know which helo is Marine One to shoot it down.
Those tiny missiles are mere training aids.
In any case, I have no intention of shooting down Marine One.
You're a lying bastard.
Sorry.
Unfortunately, half of that is true.
His name is Ari Haswari.
He graduated from Edinburgh Medical College in '94.
Good lord! So did I. Well, a few decades earlier, of course.
- Of course. - Extraordinary.
I wonder if the college should be informed.
Want to name him an honoured alumni?
Oh, very amusing, Tony.
But not when we have such notables as Lord Lister,
Dr. Peter Mark Roget and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
You have some famous alumni, Ducky.
Well, we should. The medical college is over 400 years old.
It traces its origins back to 17th century barber surgeons
- who did blood-letting and... - I'll be doing some blood-letting
if this huddle isn't work-related.
- Hey, boss, we got him. - We got a name!
Dr. Ari Haswari.
He's a graduate of my old medical school in Edinburgh.
That's great work, McGee. What's with his name?
Ari is Israeli. Haswari is Arab.
Maybe his folks were working on some sort of Middle East peace plan.
McGee, find someone who knew him at Edinburgh.
Already did, boss.
I spoke to a Dr. Martin Sedwick, Pickford Mews, London.
He and Ari were post-graduate research assistants
at the Edinburgh Centre for Infectious Diseases.
That's why Hamas chose him to recover the smallpox virus.
Dr. Sedwick said he was quite brilliant, always with beautiful women
and always answered to Haswari...
never Ari.
Think I know why. His father was Dr. Benjamin Weinstein.
His mother, Dr. Hosmiya Haswari.
They worked in Jerusalem Hospital and never married.
- Haswari didn't like his Jewish daddy. - You can call him Ari.
Ari worked with his mother in a Gaza Strip clinic
until she died four years ago.
So he went from doctor to terrorist?
Rantisi was a doctor.
Well, so was Che Guevara.
Jack the Ripper was a surgeon.
No, he was never caught. That's only a supposition.
You know, there's a very interesting theory...
Tony, let's go.
McGee, give me a GPS search on Kate's cell phone. It's off now.
If it comes on, I want coordinates.
Kate's at home, boss.
She didn't answer her phone.
I don't think she ate bad oysters for lunch.
She had a tuna salad.
Tony, that bastard's got her.
- Boss... - He's got her!
There's no way to tell them apart. And if there was, I wouldn't tell you.
Even if it meant your life?
- You willing to die for what you believe? - We Hamas prove that every day.
No. Your children do.
Marta, give me her gun.
- We're wasting time. - The gun, Marta. Please.
If killing is to be done, I will do it.
I believe you, Caitlin.
Relax. Have a glass of wine.
I don't like to drink alone.
- Haswari! What... - Caitlin is telling the truth.
There is no way to identify Marine One from the others.
- You told me there was. - I lied.
Women should never get involved in politics.
It's a waste of beauty.
Call your old friends at the Secret Service.
I will tell them all they need to know.
Take it.
My Hamas are well trained.
They will kill or capture your president and mine.
Your president?
I'm Israeli.
Mossad.
A shoot-out today in Great Falls National Park
between FBI agents and alleged Colombian drug dealers
led to the death of three suspects
and the wounding of two agents.
One suspect is reported to have escaped on foot
and a widespread manhunt is underway throughout the park.
Suspected drug dealers, huh?
Whose idea was that?
Secret Service.
They give Ari his "get out of jail for free" pass, too?
No. CIA did that. But all the directors agreed.
Even yours.
Ari's father was Mossad.
Probably knocked his mother up to get a son with Arab blood.
Sent him to medical school to vet him as a doctor in Gaza.
This guy's been a sleeper his entire life.
Well, I'd love to put him in a coma.
Al-Qaida funded this Hamas op.
Ari was just doing what he had to do to make his bones with them.
You tell that to Gerald.
You forget I lost a man, had three wounded.
- No, but it seems you did. - You know better than that.
There's a line, Tobias. That bastard crossed it!
You don't make your bones shooting friends!
What do you want us to do? He's inside al-Qaida now!
I don't know!
How the hell do you breathe in all this dust?
I don't.
You got anything to wash it down?
On the top shelf, next to the paint stripper.
Who drinks bourbon anymore?
- I do. - Got a glass?
Use my coffee mug.
What about you?
I use my coffee mug.
You go upstairs and get a glass or drink out of the bottle.
What the hell.
I see why you keep it with the paint strippers.
It's 125 proof. You sip it, Fornell.
The directors want your word that you'll forget about Ari.
They think you'll blow his cover.
If I get payback, it won't be by blowing his cover.
Why are you asking me this and not my director?
He refused to.
Yeah.
- All right, one condition. - There's always one condition.
I want to speak to him, in a place of my choosing.
- Alone. - Nobody's gonna go for that.
Ari will.
She was beautiful.
Very.
Did you make love to her?
And then blew her brains out.
She would do the same to me.
Why do you do this?
- Same reason you do. - I don't think so.
Then you're lying to yourself.
What now?
You go back to the Middle East, you tell them Marta was Mossad
and that she blew the op.
Yes.
Two op failures in a row. I'd ax your ass if you worked for me.
People who blow themselves apart
to kill their enemy have lower expectations.
How do you sell Marta as a double agent?
My men the FBI permitted to escape,
they know the effort I put into this operation.
Buying Smoky Sams, kidnapping Agent Todd,
so I could identify Marine One.
And when they search Marta's apartment,
they will find money and documents traceable to Mossad.
Hamas will believe me. Al-Qaida's more wary.
They don't believe you, you're dead.
Yes. And if they do, I may learn
what they plan as the next 9/11.
Would you risk losing that opportunity...
over pride?
It's not pride.
If not pride, then what?
Love of country?
Sense of duty?
I'm sure those exist in you.
But what burns is pride, my friend.
Just wanted to help you convince al-Qaida.