Previously on NCIS...
You know what you got there, Barrett?
Nope.
Each phantom operative was tagged with a microchip,
giving them access worldwide to the Watcher database.
EJ, who told you to come here tonight?
I thought you did.
(gunfire)
So, who'd you shoot, Agent DiNozzo?
TONY: I need your help.
I don't know. Can't remember any of it.
STRATTON: Special Agent Gibbs?
Agent Stratton, FBI.
VANCE: Gentlemen, I intend to find out
who Casey Stratton really is.
Bureau doesn't know.
We got stills from hospital security,
but he hasn't turned up on any database.
Your girl's still missing?
Unfortunately.
Find Agent Barrett.
Child abuse is what it is.
No more junk food at my house.
No more video games at mine.
Stupid New Year's resolutions.
They make them, and we suffer.
I swear, I can't wait to grow up
and move out of this puny old town.
Nothing ever happens here anyway.
(tires screech, crash)
What?
(tires screech)
(car alarm blaring)
Come on.
Whoa.
(grunts)
You okay, mister?
(gasps)
♪ NCIS 9x12 ♪ Housekeeping Original Air Date on January 3, 2012
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
♪
(elevator bell dings)
(groans) No.
(sighs)
Morning!
- Hey. - Meh.
I never thought I'd end up being known
as the cheerful one at the office.
Wait, what?
Are you saying we're not cheerful?
Last couple weeks, I'd say more--
I don't know-- surly.
Surly? Surly you're Mc-staken.
Didn't seem that way at the Navy District New Year's party.
Ha! Gotcha!
'Cause I didn't even go
to the Naval District New Year's Eve party.
Neither did I.
Then I rest my case.
Since when do either of you ever miss a party?
Also known as the holiday blues.
Pre and post.
Not at all uncommon.
That'll do, Dr. Phil.
I don't suppose you heard anything
from C.I.Ray over the holidays, did you?
What about you?
Weren't you supposed to visit
your old flame in Baltimore?
Wendy. Yes.
Hmm.
Something came up.
Yeah, like a U-turn.
(laughs)
Told you to stifle, Edith.
I don't have the blues,
I just have the blahs, you know?
Every time New Year's
comes around, just kind of... whack.
I don't know.
Well, only you can do something about that, Tony.
Change, my dear, requires some action.
This coming from a woman who's been waiting
eight weeks for
a single, solitary phone call from one lousy dude.
Seven. And maybe I'm done waiting.
Maybe it's finally time we both took some action.
Maybe...
No time for maybes.
Got a dead Naval officer.
There's nothing maybe about that.
Let's go.
To be continued?
Maybe.
DUCKY: One gunshot wound to the neck,
one to the chest that I can see.
Given the angle of entry, both were fired
from the commander's immediate right.
Ergo, "riding shotgun."
Too easy?
Too surly.
Navy Commander James Barnsway, 35.
Those kids were first on the scene.
Said they heard a loud screech of tires and then the crash.
Passenger door's open.
Well, they didn't see any passenger.
There are no bullet casings in the truck.
Lack of stippling on this wound would indicate a distance
greater than the passenger seat.
Passenger window's open.
What are you thinking, DiNozzo?
It's more like what I'm not seeing, boss.
There's no skid marks here for the pickup,
which means he ran full steam into that car.
Kids said they heard a tire screech;
probably came from those skid marks right there.
Hmm? Alongside.
Making it possible the shots were fired
from a second vehicle.
TONY: Yeah, that was
kind of my point. - Ziva.
ZIVA: Uh-huh.
More than possible.
Had to be riding high to get that angle.
Hell of a shot.
The boys didn't hear any shots fired.
Just the crash.
Well, then a hell of a shot with a silencer.
DiNozzo, Ziva.
TONY: On it, boss.
I'm the one who called the police.
But you have to understand, I'm not one for getting involved.
But you did see the crash?
No, heard it.
What exactly did you see?
Well-- Yes, yeah, go right there.
I got to the window
just as that other car was speeding off.
What kind of car was that?
One of those SUVs.
Blue.
Oh, no, wait.
Uh, it was green.
Or gold.
Did you hear anything like gunshots?
Oh, Lord, no.
I can't imagine that girl would have got out of Jimmy's truck
if there'd been gunshots.
There was a girl?
Pretty blond.
Ran off into the woods over there.
Or maybe it was red.
Oh, the SUV, not her hair.
That was definitely blond.
Ish.
Well...
So, you know the commander?
Jimmy, yes.
Man is a war hero.
He didn't look too good.
Is he gonna be all right?
What about the girl? You know her, too?
No, but I will tell you, it wasn't Mrs. Jimmy.
Not that I'm one for getting involved.
So, the commander has a wife?
Oh, Cara, yes.
Sings in our church choir.
Poor Cara.
It'll pain me so to have to tell her.
I'm really not one for...
Getting involved. Yes, we know, we know.
TONY: We'll save you the trouble.
It's no trouble.
I can give Cara a call right now.
Really, I can.
We'd rather you didn't, ma'am.
Not until we know what color SUV she drives.
Oh.
Or how good a shot she is.
Oh.
(makes gunshot noise, chuckles)
Really?
CARA: Jimmy's been defending this country his whole life.
For this to happen now,
at home, in our little town...
I'm sorry to have to ask, Mrs. Barnsway,
but we're gonna need to confirm your whereabouts this morning.
Me?
You think I'd kill my husband?
We have reports that an SUV was observed leaving the scene.
So just because I drive an SUV?
Also, that the commander did not die alone.
There may have been
a woman with him.
Oh, my God.
Of course.
Is that what this is?
Is-Is she dead, too?
You know about her?
She called before breakfast.
Oh, God, what was her name?
Um, she was an old friend of Jimmy's.
Some Navy connection overseas from years ago.
Did he say
where she was calling from?
I don't know.
Not far.
He was going to bring her home.
She needed his help.
Help with what?
I doubt Jimmy even asked.
He just... dropped everything and ran out.
One thing about my husband:
he would, he would do anything for a friend.
Commander James Barnsway.
A 14-year veteran, recently assigned as a training officer
at the Patuxent River Naval Air Station.
Previous deployments are all over the globe:
Iraq, Bahrain, Gitmo, Sao Paolo, Naples.
Naples?
Yeah.
As in Italy, Tony, not Florida.
Navy has a base there, DiNozzo.
Of course.
Yeah, no, I just, I-I thought I... misheard.
Uh, call to the commander's cell
this morning came from a burn phone.
No way to trace it, but I'm looking for...
I'm looking for where it was purchased.
- Enemies? - None that we know of,
but the commander did have a reputation
for being a hard-nosed commanding officer.
(cell phone ringing)
- Any complaints filed against him? - I'll find out.
Abbs. Yeah, you were my next stop, honest.
So, Naples, huh?
What about it?
I hear the pizza's great.
Tony.
It was nothing, guys.
Really.
Nothing.
Mm-hmm.
Nothing.
No telling markers, no striations.
They're both nine-millimeter.
A Glock, a Beretta maybe.
Silencer fits both.
Which explains the lack of a bang.
Did you get any prints off the brass?
Nope.
We're dealing with a really careful killer here, Gibbs.
There were no prints, no residue, no nothing.
Can't use nothing, Abbs.
Well, then let's get to the something.
The memory on the pickup's GPS was damaged
during the collision,
so it's displaying this
crazy spaghetti pattern at the moment.
Mmm, spaghetti, meatballs.
Garlic bread.
Mmm, garlic bread.
Abby.
Sorry. I have to stop working through my lunch.
Anyways, I was able to work backwards
from where the pickup crashed, try to retrace its steps
or its spins, or whatever tires do, and we get this.
It's sort of like a reverse Pac-Man
or like working a maze from the end.
Go to where it starts.
486 Overpass Lane.
Also known as
the Highway 12 Motor Lodge.
It's just a few miles out of town.
That's not nothing.
No, that's something.
Just like you, Abbs.
Whoever was in that room got out of there in a hurry.
Sorry I did not see her leave.
I assure you I had no idea the lady was in any kind of trouble.
You have her credit card on file?
No, sir, she paid cash.
Still, she must have shown you some form of I.D.
I'm embarrassed to say no.
Uh, she was so terribly pleasant.
Like one of those
Star Wars Jedi people.
Uh, "You do not need to see my I.D."
(laughs)
Um... it was late, I was tired.
You too tired to even get her name?
Oh, no, no, no, I made sure she signed in.
Um...
It's always good to know
the name of whatever serial killer you might be harboring.
She's a serial killer?
She is Belva Lockwood.
And all she needed for a room was cash, a name and a smile?
To be honest, it was double cash, three nights in advance.
- Times are hard. - DiNozzo.
Belva Lockwood, the first female to run for president. 1884.
In what movie did you learn that?
I read a book once.
That mean something to you?
Well, it just sounds like an alias.
You have a security camera around here somewhere?
ABBY: These are beyond blurry, Gibbs.
There's not much enhancing I can do here, boss.
- Can you try streaming them again? ZIVA: We are lucky
to have streamed them the first time, McGee.
Equipment over here is not exactly state of the art.
But we do keep the sheets clean.
ABBY: I might have software
in my lab that can help us with this.
Whatever you can do, Abbs.
ZIVA: If we saw this woman leave with the commander...
We should be able to see when she came back to the hotel.
Hold it.
Time code--
only half an hour ago.
(computer chirps and trills)
Then she leaves again... five minutes later.
Which way?
Well, if I was looking to get out of Dodge
in a hurry with no car...
...I just might look to
hitch the closest ride I could find.
(computer chirps and trills)
McGEE: Not bad.
I know, right?
It's like a computer chemical peel.
Let's buff out the blemishes and smooth out the skin.
It's like a regular digital face-lift.
Hmm.
How do I look?
Uncomfortable.
Got anything?
Manager says a woman in a red jacket came in
ten minutes ago looking for a ride.
And she just got one. Tanker truck.
There.
Stop!
NCIS!
Get out of the truck.
Hands where we can see them!
Don't shoot!
I just met the lady.
Get out of the truck now!
(whirring and trilling)
Um...
maybe you should give Gibbs a call?
Tell him we've got an I.D.
(computer chirps)
- EJ. - EJ.
Barrett?
(sighs)
Hi, guys.
You're alive.
Hungry, Barrett?
Not anymore.
- Thanks. - So this has been it for you?
On the lam, running town to town?
Since they killed Cade, yeah.
You left me lying on the ground in an alleyway.
I thought you were dead, too, Tony.
- You thought? - It was days before
I found out you were okay.
Much to my relief.
Didn't stop you from running, did it?
I wasn't running, Tony. I was on the run.
Oh, there's a distinction. "I wasn't running. I..."
Hey, hey!
I was on the run.
- You were running. - Enough.
You know that we were there for you, right?
I didn't know anything, Gibbs.
Except that I needed answers and couldn't count
on anyone else to give them to me.
Not even us?
Not without putting you in danger again.
So you were protecting us?!
And trying to find out
who killed Cade before they killed me.
You were protecting yourself!
- Yes! - Hey, will you stop it?!
You were wearing
a vest that night, right?
Same one I wore this morning.
And lucky I did, too.
Not so lucky for Barnsway.
I never should have called him.
Why did you?
I'd been up in Jersey a month or so
before they got onto me.
I guess I'd been on my own so long...
I don't know. I needed a friend.
GIBBS: They?
You keep saying "they," Barrett.
Who's "they"?
Who's this?
He's the guy who killed Cade.
Posed as FBI. Name is Stratton.
This isn't who shot at me this morning.
This... This isn't who killed Jim.
- You sure? - I saw the shooter up close, Tony.
I know his face, and that is not it.
Take her down to Abby.
What for?
Go.
ABBY: And there she goes.
We're running your shooter
through every possible database we have access to.
Not a bad rendering, Abby.
- Think we captured his essence? - We'll see
if it captures him. TONY: So, you're absolutely
positive that's your shooter, huh?
If I imagine him pointing a gun in my face.
Yeah, Tony, close enough.
- Mm-hmm. ABBY: Um...
this might take a while.
Nowhere else to be.
ABBY: Okeydokey, then.
I'm just gonna, um...
I'll be... in there... if you need me.
(computer chirps)
So?
So... I had the craziest feeling
when I saw your buddy Barnsway had been stationed in Naples.
'Cause you always raved about Naples.
Birthplace of the pizza.
Wasn't until I saw
that the first female presidential candidate-- 1884--
had been checked into a roadside motel,
that I got a gut feeling.
You remembered Belva Lockwood?
How could I forget? That was some night.
You going on and on about how cool you thought Belva was.
You know, I've noticed something about you, EJ.
You have a tendency to disappear.
Consequently, I spent a lot of time looking for you.
A lot... of time.
So you didn't think you could reach out?
I was scared, Tony.
Hell, I don't even know why he's after me.
It's not like I could identify him.
Hmm.
(computer chirps and beeps)
Looks like you just did.
ZIVA: With all due respect
for what she has been through, Tony, how could EJ think
that living off the griddle is a better option
than having us protect her?
That's living off the grid, Ziva.
- Oh. - And, uh,
Tony, you got to admit,
the whole thing is a little bit fishy.
Spare me your conspiracy theories, all right?
You're preaching to the choir.
We simply do not want to see you get hurt.
Again.
I can handle myself.
I'll be the judge of that.
Go.
Former Captain Marcellus Dane,
41 years old,
23 missions with the SEALs in Iraq
before being dishonorably discharged
at General Court-Martial in '05.
Our records indicate that it had something to do
with accepting bribes from private contractors.
Which is no surprise, since he was then hired
by the same contractors to be a weapons specialist.
He's an expert in handguns.
Known to carry a Beretta M9,
both on and off the battlefield.
Same type of weapon used on Barnsway.
It is possible, given the commander's travels,
that he and Dane crossed paths in Iraq at some point.
And not in a very good way.
Maybe Dane had his own reason for going after the commander.
No offense, Ziva. That is a plausible theory, but that man
was shooting at me.
You have to take my word for it.
Why?
Dane have an address?
Yeah. Last known is in Seattle,
but he does have
a cell phone that just rebooted in downtown DC.
Just pinged a signal from an industrial apartment loft
at Gentry and 7th. - Ah. So much
for our careful killer. TONY: Does seem a bit careless
for a seasoned paramilitary operative.
Yeah, a little too careless.
Let's be ready for anything.
Let's? Barrett, let's? Like you and us?
- Well, I can't stay here, Gibbs. - Oh, sure you can.
- Watch this. Keep her here. - Me?
But I'm the one he's after.
All the more reason not to take a target along.
Boss, there's no way. I cannot...
DiNozzo, make that two targets.
If Stratton's behind that guy,
then both of you need to sit tight.
(loud, overlapping crowd chatter)
MAN: Okay, okay, move it on back, folks.
There's nothing to see.
(engine revving)
(crowd chatter, garbled radio transmission)
NCIS.
MAN: Go on through.
ZIVA: People seem to die wherever Marcellus Dane goes.
I'll check the building.
GIBBS: Don't bother.
He's right here.
Cops say this happened just a few minutes ago.
Stabbed and then tossed.
The phone signal.
Whoever did this wanted us to see it.
I got a pretty good idea who.
(siren wailing)
(piano playing) All right.
Mr. Secretary.
Special Agent Gibbs.
Sorry to interrupt, sir. You got a minute?
We're just finishing up. Can it wait?
- Or would you care to join us? - Neither, sir.
Nothing personal.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
Give us a minute?
Need a favor, Mr. Secretary.
Oh, guess I better listen then.
I need you to talk to Sean Latham.
Why?
Because we may have a bead on Casey Stratton.
Gibbs, the FBI takes imposters very seriously.
They have a task force solely focused on...
Not about the FBI, sir.
Phantom Eight.
Ring a bell?
Yeah.
It came up in discussions when Agent DiNozzo was injured.
Clandestine unit associated with the Watcher Fleet. Classified.
Does that mean that Stratton is classified, too?
You're saying this is him?
Stratton killed Cade, sir.
He tried to kill DiNozzo and Barrett.
Agent Barrett is M.I.A.
Not any longer.
She's in a safe house with DiNozzo on Old Rag Mountain.
That's good news.
You're the one who brought Latham into this, sir.
He saw
the hospital surveillance.
He should have recognized Stratton.
Maybe. Perhaps.
But we don't even know if they're in contact anymore.
With all due respect, sir,
this son of a bitch had a locator chip in his arm.
Latham knows how to find him.
Latham needs to bring him in.
TONY: The game was great, Boss.
Yeah.
We won, of course.
How'd yours go?
Oh, it's not until tomorrow, huh?
Forgot about that.
Okay, well, we'll let you know how that goes.
We're just gonna do a little bit of tailgating.
And maybe crack a cold one.
Good luck tomorrow.
Heard a lot of code in my day.
That, my friend, ranks among some of the lamest.
What's lame about a couple guys talking sports?
Besides, we don't know if these phones have been compromised.
At least now we know that Jarvis is on board.
When's the last time anyone tidied up around here?
Well, it's called a safe house, not a tidy house.
I know it's a far cry
from the luxurious truck stop motor lodge
you've been staying in.
At least I can't do any more damage here.
Not really where I was going with it,
but okay.
Can you blame me for feeling responsible?
I mean,
first Levin, then Cade, then...
Jimmy Barnsway.
God, his poor wife
must be heartbroken.
Well, if it helps, she said her husband
would do anything for a friend.
Doesn't help,
but thanks anyway.
You should cut yourself some slack, EJ.
What's the saying?
That which does not kill us makes us stronger.
I think Nietzsche said that.
Important thing to remember about Friedrich Nietzsche,
of course, is that he died in an insane asylum.
This is probably not the best way to start a pep talk, huh?
Listen, we all have regrets.
I've made mistakes.
A couple of doozies.
As for your mistakes...
Sleep tight, Agent Barrett.
Mr. Secretary.
Sean, thanks for coming on such short notice.
I assumed we'd be meeting in Director Vance's office.
Yeah, there's more than one SCIF, sir.
Why don't you have a seat?
Agent Gibbs.
Guess that leaves you in charge.
Me? No.
SECNAV can hold his own.
I don't doubt that.
I know everything there is to know
about my team, sir. Do you?
LATHAM: Blast from the past.
Where the hell'd you get it?
I found it in a box.
Mr. Secretary, this is classified material.
You know this guy?
Pretty obvious I used to.
You never thought to mention
knowing him a few months ago? - I'm sorry,
Mr. Secretary, is there something I'm missing here?
You said nothing when Stratton
came to the hospital looking to gun down my best agent.
Hold on, you think this is him?
Are you saying it's not? - Gentlemen,
this is Captain Jonathan Cole.
Former Army Green Beret.
I recruited him into the Phantom program in '03.
Afraid you've got the wrong man.
Wrong name, maybe.
Right man.
Is it possible, Sean?
Absolutely not.
Cole's a good man
and a highly-trained operative.
Trained to kill.
He gunned down an NCIS agent; now he's trying
to get rid of everybody who saw him do it.
You know that for a fact?
Agent DiNozzo made that ID under physical and mental duress.
You're not denying knowing him, right, Sean?
- Of course not. - Then let me talk to him.
Contact Cole, tell him we'd like to arrange a meeting.
Tell him the Secretary of the Navy would like a moment of his time.
Look, if I could reach Cole, what's our timetable?
Soon. Two of his targets
are living in a safe house.
It's less safe the longer he's out there.
Make it happen, Sean.
Rise to the occasion.
I'll do what I can.
(gasps)
Uh... Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!
Room service. Easy, Lion.
Tiger.
Easy, Tiger. You could have called.
My cell phone does not like these mountains, apparently.
Why are you drooling?
Is that what I hope it is?
Coffee.
And muffins with jam.
You know, Ziva,
everything Tony told me about you when we first met--
absolutely not true. - What?
I never... said that she didn't like coffee.
How did everyone sleep last night?
I slept in the chair. She slept on the couch.
That's not what I was asking.
Oh. Well, considering that I slept vertically,
I'm gonna see if a little hot water
can loosen up
my lower extremities.
Excuse me, ladies.
If this goes on another night,
I'll make sure he takes the couch.
Gibbs met with Latham,
but don't plan on leaving here anytime soon.
(shower running) I have something else for you.
After you went missing,
Gibbs had me access your secure work e-mail for possible leaks.
Should I prepare to be embarrassed?
Not at all.
These are from your mother.
I was not sure if you...
had reached out to her recently.
Not in months.
I didn't want my parents to be in danger.
Thank you for this.
Nothing you would not do for me, I'm sure.
Well, so much for my big plans, huh?
Hmm.
What about your plans, Ziva?
Beyond NCIS?
A family?
Um...
maybe someday.
Though that day seems increasingly distant
at the moment.
To someday.
Hmm?
Hmm. Someday.
(dog chuffs)
Hey, boy. Hi.
What's his name?
Mr. Christian.
Not a very trustworthy name for man's best friend.
You realize the position you've put me in?
They've made the connection, Cole.
They want me to set you up.
So? Do it.
It might actually expedite matters.
Or blow up in our faces.
It's already blown up in mine.
I've got nothing to lose.
And therein lies the problem.
Our business affiliation,
selling the microchips, was very profitable.
It's all behind us now.
You know perfectly well I can't proceed
beyond the assignment until it's complete.
Drop the good-soldier crap.
You're a turncoat now, wanted by your own country.
So just... forget about the girl.
I wish I could.
Wish harder.
I don't get it, Cole.
Success has made you... what?
Crazy, cocky... or just sloppy?
You didn't have to kill the hit man.
I assigned him a task, and he failed.
You're not getting Barrett.
Gibbs has her and DiNozzo in a safe house.
Place called Old Rag Mountain.
You sure?
Per SECNAV.
Even for a politician, he talks too much.
I'm giving you this heads-up out of loyalty.
And in return, you want me to leave so you're not implicated.
I want you to leave so neither of us ends up in Leavenworth.
(squishing thud) (grunting)
Again, sir...
I wish I could.
(gasps)
(gasping)
But no loose ends. (wheezing)
I got to finish what we started.
(panting)
Come on, boy.
Come on, let's go. Easy.
DUCKY: Same technique as used on Dane
before his fall from the window.
- Same knife? - It would appear so.
It was plunged in here, and then twisted around.
Perforated both lungs.
This caused massive internal bleeding.
No way Latham here
was gonna draw a breath, much less call for help.
Latham let him get close. He trusted him.
Well, trust was his first mistake.
That a microchip?
Oh, yeah, but no longer active,
so you can add it to the collection.
It's interesting.
Well,
locating Stratton, or Cole,
as you now call him--
easier said than done.
Guy's a phantom.
Go catch a ghost.
All I wanted for breakfast was the coffee.
Now we're ready for a fair fight.
Always good to be prepared.
I've been prepared for months.
With Cole on the loose, I think it's time
to bring out some Connery, and I'm paraphrasing.
(imitating Connery): You never bring a knife to a gunfight.
Huh?
James Bond?
Untouchables, 1987.
Connery won an Academy Award for that.
I liked him in, uh, Xanadu.
You know, one of these days, I'd like to actually meet
someone who appreciates movies the way I do.
Or at least appreciates the way I appreciate them.
She does, Tony.
Who?
Ziva.
(chuckles)
Agent Ziva David believes that
the Pirates of the Caribbean is a cinema classic.
EJ: I'm not talking about movies,
Tony, I'm talking about you.
She cares.
What's the matter with you?
We're-We're coworkers.
Yeah.
- We're teammates. - Uhuh.
We have each other's backs.
Exactly.
(scoffs)
Surround yourself with people
you would give your own life for.
- Boss... - Shot fired.
Ziva, McGee, move in.
I have visual!
Got the shot, take it!
What's he got, a cannon?
Sounds like a .50-caliber round.
A gun that size has limited accuracy.
He seems pretty damn accurate to me.
All right, suppressive fire.
Keep him moving in the same direction.
(guns clicking)
Go for it.
I'm sorry for your loss, Gibbs.
It's wrong place, wrong time.
Yeah, you got that right.
(dialing)
(phone ringing)
We're ready, Boss. Game on?
Game over.
How are you, DiNozzo?
I'm good.
So Latham took SECNAV's bait?
Yeah.
Yeah, gave up Old Rag Mountain.
That's 20 miles east.
Jarvis must be one hell of a liar.
Uh-huh.
Well, I'm glad he's lying for us.
Time to move?
No.
Time to stop running.
Ziva and I are going out for a drink later,
if you care to join us.
I would, but, uh, I got a stop to make before I head home.
Oh. Home, huh?
Finally got to call my mom.
Home's waiting for me.
Need a ride?
SECNAV set me up.
- Car service. - Fancy.
So, come on, you can say it.
"I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow."
Wizard of Oz.
Look at you.
How far you've come.
I'm so proud of you.
(sighs)
We've been down this Yellow Brick Road before, Tony.
(chuckles)
Thanks again.
Take care of yourself.
Always do.
(elevator bell dings)
Don't disappear.
Irons really necessary?
I thought you'd be flattered.
Phantom program did a lot of good in the world, Gibbs.
I did a lot of good in service to my country.
Did.
You and Latham forgot that.
Some very bad people.
Doing very bad things, until you came along.
It's worth taking into consideration, no?
Should count for something.
It should. It doesn't. Not anymore.
I don't know where you went off the rails, Stratton,
but it brought you here.
You're no better than them now.
Deep down, Gibbs-- and-and maybe not that deep--
you're no different than me.
I don't kill innocent people for money.
No?
So why do you kill innocent people?
♪ South of the border
♪ Down Mexico way
♪ That's where I fell in love ♪
♪ Where the stars above came out to play. ♪
So...
EJ is, uh... gone, huh?
And safe, for a change.
May I ask where?
Someplace quiet.
With someone she can count on.
Hopefully.
That is the word, is it not?
"Hopefully."
Even when you think you can count on someone,
you often cannot.
Do I detect
a blip on the Ray-dar?
I would rather not discuss it.
Well, at least EJ and I parted... friends.
Agent Cruz seems to have, uh, some communication issues.
Yeah, and I'm losing my patience.
As you well should.
You know...
You and I,
we have a lot in common, in that respect.
(chuckles) You think? I don't think.
I know.
Well, then I am, uh, grateful
to have someone in my life who is just as
romantically dysfunctional as I am.
Agent David,
do you really consider me to be... in your life?
(cell phone ringing)
No.
- Yes. - Seriously?
I mean, what should I say?
Say "hello."
(chuckles softly)
Okay.
(phone continues ringing)
Excuse me.
(phone beeps)
Hello? Ray?
Um, no, I can talk, yeah.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==