WOMAN (over phone): Where are you now?
Where am I? Where are you, ma'am?
Uh, I'm right here.
I see plenty of Uber cars on my app,
but none of them are near me.
(woman speaks indistinctly)
Uh, hang on. I might have gotten turned around.
Oh, wait. There you are.
(beep)
Why are you in the alley?
It took a while, but I found you.
What the hell are you doing?
Look, I didn't see anything.
I swear I won't tell anybody.
That's right. You won't.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Look, look, no, no, no, please.
(engine starts) Hey, wait! Wait! Wait!
(gunshots)
♪ NCIS 14x05 ♪ Philly Original Air Date on October 15, 2016
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪ ♪
(elevator bell dings)
Hey, McGee. Look who I found in the elevator.
Well, I've been riding it all morning.
I'm glad someone finally noticed.
Francis! How are you? Good to see you.
It's good to be seen, McGee. And congrats, huh?
I heard you popped the big question.
When's the big day.
Well, we don't have a firm date yet,
but, uh, we plan on saving money
on the invitations just by telling Bishop,
and everyone'll show.
Okay, I am sorry, Tim. I'm just excited for you.
And it's nothing to keep secret.
Heck, when I finally find the girl of my dreams,
I'll be singing it from the mountaintops.
That's very sweet. Adorable.
Special Agent Torres, this is
Special Agent Francis. - Hey.
Nice to meet you.
And, uh, that is
Special Agent Quinn there.
BISHOP: Yeah, you might remember her
as a training officer at FLETC.
Huh. You bet I do.
How you been, Alex?
Good! Yeah. Special Agent Francis,
what a surprise.
Yeah, well, you look amazing.
Oh.
Long time.
Yeah. It's been, like, four years, right?
Last time I saw you, you were, uh, reassigned to Yuma.
FRANCIS (chuckles): Well, you should recall. You're the one
who had me assigned. - Oh.
- (laughs): No. - Yeah, I've been
trying to call you the last couple of years.
Uh, is there any chance that maybe you changed your number?
Uh...
uh, yes.
I changed my number.
Security.
Mm. Well, I figured.
But hey, while I'm in town,
maybe we can grab a bite.
Oh, yeah, that-that's great.
Yeah, uh, I... yes.
Um... I'm busy
'cause of the job, but...
if I'm free I'll call you. Great.
- Here is my number. - Mm-hmm.
And I'll look forward to it.
Okay. Me, too.
Have a good day, fellow agents.
You bet.
- See ya. - Yep.
Mm-hmm.
Hmm?
What?
What do you mean, what? That.
Yeah. Did you two have a... thing?
No, we did not have a thing, exactly.
At least I didn't think so. Well, he thought
you definitely had a thing. - Well, you know,
whatever it was, McGee, it was brief and it was
ill-advised-- now I can't seem to shake him.
Guy can't take a hint.
- Poor guy. - No, you know what?
Bishop, not poor guy.
He's actually a great guy.
You know, he's ten all around.
If you're interested...
Just have to be ready to settle down.
Me? No. No, no, no.
I am not looking... to settle anywhere.
In fact, I'm-I'm not looking at all.
Mm-hmm. Yeah, right.
Excuse me?
All women are looking.
BISHOP: Oh, ha!
- Is that right? - Yeah, to settle down. Always.
- All women? - Yeah, you...
you pretend to play it cool,
like, like you're not looking, but then when you see something
you like, you go, “Oh, my God, I'm not really looking! Oh!”
But then you overdo
the ceremony and you make it, like, a thing
and a meal out of it, and then, you know, eventually...
Right? Come on.
McGee, back me up here.
I'm sorry, do I know you?
Uh, wow.
Really? Like that? That-that's how
you're gonna do me? Yeah.
That's what we do to each other now?
Okay, maybe...
maybe not all women. Mm-hmm.
Uh, w... because what I'm...
see, what I'm trying to say...
What are you saying, exactly?
Don't say anything, Torres.
You can thank me later.
Okay, that got weird in a hurry.
And it was only getting weirder.
McGee, watch the home fort. Everybody else, with me. MTAC.
Now.
Clayton, hey.
How are you, Ellie?
I'm good.
Uh, Special Agents Quinn and Torres,
this is MI6 Intel Officer Clayton Reeves.
MI6. That's fancy.
How's life across the pond?
I wouldn't know. I'm calling from your side of it.
Philadelphia.
GIBBS: Why are you there, Reeves?
Searching for a mate of mine, Gibbs.
MI6 Officer Mason Finley.
Came from London last week chasing Intel on a smuggling op
and hasn't been heard from since.
And why are you calling us?
Finley's last GPS signal came
from this alleyway, where it seems that I find myself
in NCIS jurisdiction-- have to imagine there's some connection.
I haven't touched him. Mm. I.D.?
You're my first call.
Well, technically, the Northeast Office
would have jurisdiction.
And I will call them-- but frankly, if there's
any connection to Finley's disappearance, I prefer to use
your agents, Gibbs.
Have the local office
send the body here-- we'll send a team up to you.
I'm in. I've never been to Philly.
Yeah. Me, neither, Gibbs.
I'm always down for a road trip.
Bishop, yes.
Torres, no.
What? Why not?
We need you here.
Quinn.
You go with Bishop.
Um...
I'm sorry?
What? I stutter?
Uh...
Are you messing with me?
You know your way around Philadelphia and they don't.
Experience counts. - Even if my experience
is exactly why I shouldn't go?
Shouldn't, Quinn? Or you won't?
Gibbs, you know
I would never defy a direct order from you.
Okay. Then this is a direct order.
So... so you are messing with me, then?
Come again?
Did I stutter? I don't have time to mess
with anyone or talk you into this, Quinn.
You want back in this game,
then you go where I say you go.
It matters that much to you? Well, yeah,
now that you're forcing me into this conversation with you,
yeah, it does-- it matters that much to me.
Okay.
Fine, I'll go.
The sailor, Quinn.
You find out what happened to that kid.
♪ ♪ (bell tolling)
(passing horns honking)
Oh. MI6 is staying here?
- Us, too, I'm afraid. - Ugh.
Just wish it was closer to the Italian market.
Oh, yeah, the Italian market, the Rocky theme in the car,
and a run up the museum steps later.
So, this issue you have with Philly...
I don't have an issue with Philly.
It's a New York thing, right? Sports rivalries?
(groans) Mets-Phillies, Giants-Eagles...
Let's go with that.
I mean, government agencies putting their employees here?
Really? REEVES: You can blame
budget cuts for that.
Damn Brexit's got us all in a panic.
- Hey! - You got here fast, Ellie!
Yeah, she has a bit of a lead foot.
Agent Quinn, thanks for coming. You process the Navy kid yet?
Already shipped him off to Dr. Ducky for autopsy.
And still no sign of your friend?
Not yet.
You ladies come and check in.
I'll show you his room.
I already scanned
for prints and evidence--
no sign of foul play.
I texted you both Finley's info.
Front desk last sighting
was two days ago.
He traveled light.
You know these assignments. Got to be ready to move fast.
An assignment for smuggled weapons?
With all the national uncertainty, means new opportunities
on the black market.
The black market what? Well, in this case,
Russian rocket launchers, smuggled into the U.S.
by way of the U.K.
And who are the smugglers?
That's Finley came to figure out
(phone rings) before he disappeared.
Hey, Gibbs. We just got here.
And your victim just got here.
We I.D.'d him as Petty Officer Third Class Gary Falco.
21 years old, from Upper Darby, Pennsylvania.
Currently on leave from Naval Station Newport
in Rhode Island.
GIBBS: We'll contact his C.O. from here.
You pay a visit to his family. In Upper Darby.
McGEE: It's a suburb about 20 miles outside of Philly.
Yeah, I know it.
(quietly): Of all places.
What's that?
Nothing. Just send the address.
GIBBS: Check in with us after.
“Of all places”?
What? Quinn wasn't happy going, Gibbs.
No happier than I am stuck here.
And we're here to make you happy?
What the hell is wrong with everyone today?
(laughing)
Are you feeling stuck?
Get unstuck!
You got something to add?
No, that about covers it.
DUCKY: Ah, the City of Brotherly Love.
Also the city of firsts.
Home to the nation's first daily newspaper.
Its first hospital.
Oh, yeah, and its first medical school.
In fact, to this day, one out of six American doctors
receives some level of training in Philadelphia.
As I am not one of that six, dear boy,
I trust you will not hold it against me.
What do you think, Duck?
It's more what I'm smelling, Jethro. Beer.
Of the... hoppy microbrew variety.
Nothing unusual for a young sailor home on leave.
Gunshots? I see
two to the chest.
Point-blank range.
(sighs): The wounds should provide more answers.
(smacks lips)
You okay? (chuckles)
You still ask me that question after all these years, Jethro,
but the answer is still no.
Not while I have a young person on my table.
Never okay.
Got it.
But, Jethro.
Thanks for asking.
(birds chirping)
WOMAN: No way was my Gary into anything bad.
Not him. So no enemies,
old grudges...? Nothing.
Ask his old high school friends. They were all good kids.
They were with him... just before.
What time was he with them?
Uh, he left on the 6:15 train to the city.
Supper, some bar-hopping.
He wore his Navy blues.
He loved showing them off.
Do you know how long he stayed?
I called him just after midnight.
The last train is at 1:00. But he said
that he had some app on his phone that could get him a ride.
I don't know.
We'll need his friends' names
and his cell number so we can trace the account.
(voice breaks): I should have picked him up.
You know...
your kid joins the military, and...
you just hold your breath.
Until they come home for a visit...
and you can finally exhale.
Or at least you think you can.
(sniffles)
These numbers will help us a lot, Mrs. Falco. Thank you.
If there's anything else you need,
or anything else I can do...
Actually, um,
do you know the Shaw family?
They used to live over on Claremont?
I don't know any Shaws.
But Claremont's just a few blocks that way-- I can go
get the phone book and... - No.
No, I'm sorry.
Um, no, if there's anything you need,
you let us know, okay? You have our numbers?
I do. And there is.
Go get those animals who killed my boy.
We will.
(clears throat softly)
(door opens)
So, who's the Shaw family?
Nobody.
You want to drive by Claremont anyway?
Nope.
McGee.
Yeah, I have names and numbers for you.
Uh, Rick Provenzoli.
(whirrs, beeps)
Print.
(beep)
Come on. Print.
Print. What the hell is wrong with this thing?
Torres, nothing's wrong with it.
Paper jams and dried-up ink cartridges are a way of life.
Well... this thing hates me.
Nah, it doesn't hate you.
Office equipment is your friend.
It's a bad friend-- the one you lend money to,
and never pays you back.
Ah.
Hey, let me use your printer, man.
Oh. Uh, no, no. See, that-that's my printer.
I'm the only one that uses that.
Uh, we talked about this. It's very sensitive.
All the settings are actually very specific to my needs.
I am the only one that knows
its little nuances, okay? So, you're fine with this one,
you're good to go-- just to be kind to it,
and it'll be kind to you.
Kind for what?
GIBBS: Sitrep.
McGEE: Oh. Uh,
Falco's C.O. at Naval Station Newport
says that he was a model sailor, boss.
No red flags, no enemies.
Anything on the Uber driver? Yeah.
We were able to track her down through Falco's cell.
She says that he sounded lost,
but then he said he spotted her car, still he didn't show.
What about the high school friends Falco was meeting?
TORRES: Quinn and Bishop are interviewing them now.
We should know soon.
What's your gut telling you, boss?
What's any of this got to do with a missing MI6 officer?
And the smuggled weapons.
Maybe.
Or maybe I know a businessman in DC
who dabbles in smuggling. Can you find him?
Squeeze him? Oh, yeah.
Quite literally, if I have to.
Good. McGee, go with him.
Hold the leash.
But not too tight, McGee.
I don't really bite.
Somehow I doubt that.
Well, Falco's buddies confirm the timeline.
They ate, drank, met at 7:00.
Parted ways at 1:30.
Okay.
Mmm.
Is that one of those cheesesteaks?
Mm-hmm. They're amazing. I got you one.
(chuckles)
There's two of them in there.
Oops. One's for later. QUINN: Not to mention
the one she ate in the car.
Well...
(ringtone playing)
Wait a minute.
I don't know this number,
but S-O-S-Double-0-9.
That's Finley.
- Are you sure? - That's what he calls me.
I'm Double-0-9, he's Double-0-nothing.
It's a Bond thing. That's an S.O.S.
Is there anything else?
3-6 Tompkins. - Could be an address.
I'll find the address in the car.
(man coughing)
NCIS!!
Finley!
Oh, Clay! Out the back!
Out there! I heard them run out there! You can't let them go...
- Stay with him! - I got him, I got him, I got him.
Okay, I'm gonna undo your hands.
Thank God. Okay, I got you.
Thank you.
(sirens wailing, chirping)
(distorted, echoing): Can I get help?!
Hold on, Em. I gotcha.
(sirens fading) (Quinn pants)
(running steps approaching)
No sign of them.
BISHOP: Building's empty.
Clay...
(groaning)
(panting)
Quinn, you okay? Yeah.
I'm fine. I'm good. Just, uh, take care of him.
I'm fine, okay?
(panting)
Please, Clay, we have to find these guys.
- We have to stop them. - We'll find them, Fin.
Now take a deep breath,
start from the beginning.
(takes deep breath)
I tracked the weapons to a warehouse
where these bastards were unloading them into a car.
An SUV, I think it was.
I was surveilling from across the road
when all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, this lad...
runs up and jumps in.
Now, I took him for part of the gang
until they drew their weapons.
He was a Navy petty officer. Yes.
And he was dead before I could do anything.
They would have killed me, too, if I hadn't identified myself.
They cut my GPS...
right out of my arm,
right there in the alley.
And they dragged me back here to find out what I knew.
Huh. Where'd you get the burner phone?
One of them dropped it.
It took me ages to grab ahold of it,
and send that text.
Praying that you'd get it.
You have no idea who they are? They wore masks.
And I track the weapons, miss, not the men.
But now they know who I am,
where I live, my wife-- please, Clay, we have to call her.
we have to warn her. We'll call her, Fin.
Let's call her now. Yes.
Sure did a number on him, huh?
Yeah.
I'll send these shots to Abby and call Gibbs with an update.
Yeah. Tell him I'm sending trace evidence, too.
Anything else I should tell him?
Such as?
You sure you're okay?
I'm fine.
Call him.
♪ ♪
Hold my gun.
Your gun? Why?
TORRES: Ivan? I'm looking for Ivan.
(chuckles): Hey, man. It's all right.
I know him. Or are you a ghost?
Been so long, I was sure you'd be dead by now.
Oh, I've died a bunch of times. Yeah.
But I keep coming back for more.
Deal me in? You come to play cards?
I need information. Smuggling action in Philly.
Everything you heard through the grapevine.
(chuckles): I have no grapevine.
This club is my life now-- and completely legit.
Legit?
- Like your armed buddy here? - He's licensed
to carry, and a sad necessity.
My previous vocation left me with enemies.
And I don't believe we've been introduced.
- NCIS. Special Agent... - Feds? Are you kidding me?
That's who you bring in here?
- Yeah. - Get the hell out of my club.
Come back when you have a warrant.
Deal the cards.
(music continues in distance)
TORRES: Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Whoa, I got your attention now. (laughs)
You like this song? I love this song.
You crazy son of a bitch.
You know crazy?
Talk to my friend over here.
Someone in Philly
is selling rocket launchers, Ivan.
Now, given your
previous vocation, might you know
of any former associates that could possibly be in the market
for such an item?
Well... since you asked nicely,
a few possible names come to mind.
That worked out, huh?
McGEE: One name we got
was Nestor Carbone.
Served time for racketeering and robbery.
Paroled last year.
Yeah, we also got two brothers,
Thompson and James Daly.
Career crooks.
Finley, those names ring a bell?
We can forget the Daly brothers.
They were my first targets,
but all they smuggle now are exotic birds.
I like birds.
I notified U.S. Fish and Wildlife.
Uh, what about this other name? Um... Carbone?
Nestor Carbone.
Son of Tiny Joe Carbone, the late Mob boss.
Yeah, that would make sense.
They never spoke English in front of me.
Do we know where to find him?
Our Intel says he owns a body shop
in the East Falls area. I'll dig up
an exact address and send it to you.
Get over there.
Check it out. REEVES: Will do, Gibbs.
I'm coming with you.
REEVES: I mean...
only if you think
you're up for it, pal.
Yeah.
Uh, Quinn...
Look, uh, I'm not so sure.
Well, I am sure. I'm going.
You've been taped up and beaten for the last how many days?
I say you sleep on it, Finley.
I say we all
sleep on it.
(door closes)
Gibbs, I got the results back
on the bullets that Ducky pulled.
Yeah? What'd they tell you?
Definitely not a mugging. Nine-millimeter,
hollow point, close range--
we're dealing with pros here.
It's even more of a reason for us to get out there, Gibbs.
It's only a two-hour drive.
Quinn and Bishop might need our help.
Actually, it's a two-and-a-half- hour drive in traffic.
And Bishop and Quinn are totally capable agents
who aren't always looking to “settle down,” by the way.
Wow.
You know what, Nick, we gave them good leads.
Let them follow up on them.
Not every step of this requires a table dance.
Hey, you liked that table dance?
(exhales)
Table dance? It's a...
figure of speech, boss. Inside joke, sir.
Find that address on Carbone. Hey, I could, uh,
deliver that personally. No.
You're staying, Torres.
Don't ask me again.
Finish your report.
I'll finish that damn report.
If you let me use your printer. Stay away from my printer.
Come on, man!
(train whistle blowing, horns honking)
Finley will be right down.
He's really ready to jump back in?
I'm not sure there's any keeping him out.
Have you got the location? Uh, yeah.
McGee texted it this morning.
Buy Better Auto on Clancy in East Bay.
Do you know it, Alex?
Why would I know it? I thought you knew Philly.
What, does that make me the mayor?
And by the way, your buddy
is not ready to jump back in.
He needs to stay here.
Will you give us a second?
Um, what are you doing?
I trained you, Bishop. You don't pull me aside.
That's the most you've said to me all morning.
Are you okay? You need to stop
asking me that. And you need to talk to me.
Look, I-I know you didn't want to come here.
Okay, it doesn't matter
what I want-- we're here; let's make the best of it.
I would, but you're not.
This isn't your best.
Just... tell me what's wrong, and maybe I can help.
You can't help. Alex...
Maybe last time I was in Philly, it didn't end so well and,
and maybe it's messing with me a little bit more than I thought.
You happy? No, but...
it's a start. No. It's not a start.
It's an end. Nothing to help.
Nothing to fix.
I know you're concerned, Ellie,
but it's fine. It's complicated.
Most things are. (groans)
I'm ready. Let's get this guy.
Right. Yeah.
That's great. Whatever. (sighs)
(electric tools whirring)
Excuse me. Special Agents Bishop and Quinn, NCIS.
Looking for a Mr. Carbone.
Nestor Carbone?
Hey, NCIS! Stop!
(woman screams)
(man yelling) Hold your fire!
What's wrong with you!
After what that monster did to me?
We don't know if it's him! I told you!
You shot me! You son of a bitch!
You shot me!
Okay, okay, just call an ambulance.
BISHOP: I got it, I got it.
What's wrong with that guy?
(groans)
Yes, we need an ambulance.
Buy Better auto shop.
MAN: I never saw that guy before.
MI5-6... whatever.
And I sure as hell don't know anything about any weapons.
REEVES: Then you ran for no reason.
Hey, where I come from, when people knock on your door with badges,
it's never to hand out prize money.
Or maybe you ran 'cause most of the cars in your shop have
the VIN numbers scraped off.
These babies stolen, Nestor?
I want to call my lawyer.
FINLEY: No excuses. Clay, I...
I snapped. Let my emotions get the better of me.
In which case, Fin,
I suggest you let us take it from here.
No. No, no. Clay, I'll be fine.
And I'm not suggesting.
Take the break you should have taken before.
BISHOP: Here's the call (phone ringing)
I've been dreading.
Hey, Gibbs.
How'd it go, Bishop?
Could've gone better.
Carbone is not exactly a good guy,
but he's not our guy, either.
Which... didn't stop Finley from shooting him.
Wait. Wait, what?
In the leg. It's not serious.
And Reeves relieved him of duty.
Well, where is Quinn?
Where's Quinn?
Yeah. Special Agent Quinn, your partner, Bishop.
She... l-left.
Uh, she had someplace to be.
Where?
She just needed... some time.
Which is it,
Bishop? She needed some time
or she had someplace to be?
She went back to the hotel.
After everything went down, she just had to get out of here.
I'm on my way.
Gibbs, you don't have to...
(groans)
...do that.
(sighs heavily) Okay.
(whirring, beeping) Come on. Come on, print. Come on.
Really? Is that how you want to play it?
Stop it! Are you crazy?
What did Rhonda ever do to you?
Rhonda?
It's just a machine.
“Just a machine”? (exhales)
Major Mass Spec. Earmuffs. Look,
first it won't print, and now this stupid thing
just has this ink thing pop out.
Don't call Rhonda stupid!
“Stupid” is an ugly word.
I wouldn't print anything for you, either, if you treated me that way.
What happened to the printer in the squad room?
I don't know. It kind of just...
broke.
Did you...
kind of break it?
No. (chuckles)
Maybe.
Mister, you have some serious T.A.I.
Technology Anger Issues.
Look, I-I was gonna use McGee's printer, but...
No! Oh.
No one uses McGee's printer. (hissing inhale)
Abby, I'm sorry.
I don't have technology issues-- I have...
(keyboard clacking) office issues.
You know, I want to be out there kicking down doors,
you know, fighting crime.
I don't kick down doors. Are you saying that
I'm not a crime fighter? No. That's not...
No. That's not what I'm saying.
What I'm saying is, is that...
your type of crime fighting,
I'm just... just not cut out for.
Could you just...
hold your thoughts.
I'm getting more shots from Bishop.
This is that auto body shop.
(tapping keyboard)
What are these? Um...
that is the warehouse where Clayton's friend was tied up.
The smugglers had him in there for days.
If it weren't for that burner phone, he might be dead by now.
May I ask you a stupid question?
There's that ugly word again.
Where's the bathroom?
The bathroom? The bathroom's just...
No, no, no. Where's the bathroom here,
in this place?
I don't see a bottle or a jug.
You know, if he was really there for a few days,
then where did he go when... you know, he had to, uh...
go?
That... is a very smart question.
(mellow jazz piano playing)
How many is that?
(sighs): Uh...
(clears throat) I'm pacing myself.
Bishop called you? Nope. I called her.
She tried to cover.
Cover for what?
Finley should have never been there.
And you never should have left, but I guess you needed time.
I mean, it's East Falls, and then Austin Powers
starts shooting up the joint.
I mean...
Okay, Gibbs,
you sent me here to test me.
I'm obviously failing.
Oh, don't try to say you didn't want this.
Want what?
When my team had an opening, you sent subpar agents
on the chance that you'd have to come back.
Are you nuts? I sent you great agents.
No.
No, you sent good agents.
But deep down...
you wanted to confront this.
I wanted to confront...
back here in East Falls?
Okay. You know what, I think you're spending
a little too much time with your shrink friend.
(chuckles): Okay.
All right. You know...
Okay, I-I didn't say anything. There's nothing to confront.
(sighs) I didn't say that.
It's not like avoiding has been doing me any favors.
Yeah, well, stop avoiding it, then.
Have another one of those, if that's what you need.
But let's go hit this head-on.
Maybe you should have one.
I've... really haven't been pacing myself.
(pats Quinn's back) Come on.
Where the hell are we going?
Ah, and then there was one.
No Liberty Bell for you, Timothy?
Actually, Duck, I'm in, uh, virtual Philly here
trying to dig up a few more smuggling suspects.
Mm.
Well, look no farther, McGee.
Or is it “further,” Ducky? In this case,
go with “further.”
Well, look no further, McGee.
These photographs of the warehouse prompted
a very smart question from Agent Torres.
The genius part
was what Abby did after I asked it.
What'd you ask her? Finley was supposedly
tied up for days--
so where's the bathroom?
TORRES: Abby found the old floor plans online.
There's no working bathroom or plumbing.
DUCKY: Wait a minute.
Did you just say “supposedly” tied up?
Here's the genius part.
So, I did a search of the neighborhood.
There is one public bathroom within a three-mile radius--
this coffee shop just around the corner from the warehouse.
Somehow I doubt they were walking Finley over there
every time he needed to go. Somehow you'd be right.
The shop's security cameras caught this
two days ago-- and I do believe
that's Finley on the left.
DUCKY: Well, who's that with him?
McGEE: I know those faces.
It's the Daly brothers.
That's them.
Exotic bird smugglers, my ass.
Well, he hardly looks under duress.
Oh, no, Finley is no captive.
He was in on it the whole time.
Finley!
Where are you?
(grunts)
I don't believe this.
He knew you'd come looking
for him and faked the whole thing.
The beatings, the blood, the S.O.S., all for show.
A smokescreen.
And now he's on the run.
Not if I can help it.
Come on.
So I gave you the Daly brothers. What more do you want from me?
They're about to unload those rocket launchers, Ivan,
and we think you might know where.
How would I? I've been out of the game
a long time. Really?
According to ATF, the Dalys sold you
eight stolen flatbeds of cigarettes?
Who knew they were stolen? That's fine months ago, Ivan.
It's not a very long time at all.
You know the Dalys. Time is short.
Where do they do business?
And if I don't tell you? What? More dancing?
More good cop/bad cop routine?
Why don't you stick it where you keep your brain.
(mock gasp) Whoa.
That was rude. That wasn't very nice.
Is he implying I'm the good cop?
Yeah. That's what he's saying.
He's saying you're a very nice cop.
And that you look good in that jacket.
'Cause I see it in the spark in his eyes.
(yelling)
McGEE: Are you saying I'm the good cop?
Get him off me! Yeah, I-I...
I would, but, you know, he's...
he's actually scaring me.
Okay. I know a place! Just get off me!
(gasps, pants)
Good. Write it down.
Use your good hand.
Damn.
All right.
Next time I hold your leash.
(scribbling)
You still think about it a lot?
At night mostly, yeah.
I play it over and over in my head, see...
what I could have done differently.
Replay it. Walk me through. Gibbs,
you were on the review board; you know what happened.
I reviewed the report-- I never saw this.
(siren wailing in distance)
It was a robbery case, wasn't it?
Yeah.
Navy Logistics Depot.
NCIS sent me to Philly to join a task force.
Your partner. Shaw?
Emily Shaw.
Port Authority cop.
Smart.
Funny.
Friend.
She, uh, and her husband used to invite me over.
Lived in Upper Darby, had a one-year-old.
Made me feel at home.
Till that night.
Yeah. We were, um...
...parked around here.
And we were...
we were waiting on these... these two suspects.
We were s...
staked out for hours.
Her husband called?
The baby wanted to say good night.
(phone rings) Hang on a second.
Never should've answered the phone.
Hi.
She got out.
(gunshot)
Kept shooting. They just kept shooting,
and I tried to... tried to get to her,
and I... I couldn't get to her.
And I kept saying, “I'm coming, I'm coming,” and...
and I-I couldn't reach her.
And she... she bled out.
She bled out on the floor. Coroner said
she was dead in 20 seconds.
That's too many seconds, Gibbs, it was
too many seconds. She died. That when you quit
active duty and became a training officer?
Yes. I thought...
it would get better with time.
It hasn't.
You're still blaming yourself.
Well, if I hadn't let her out of the car,
she may be still alive.
Or you're both dead. Inside the car,
outside the car, Quinn, you were in an ambush.
37 bullet holes in the car,
and you still killed one of the shooters.
Yeah. So?
What are you leaving out?
If that's the whole story, you'd be past it by now.
You know what always got me?
How it derailed someone as tough as you
for as long as it did. Really?!
As t... as tough as me? Really, Gibbs?
You don't know anything until you walk in my shoes.
What wasn't in the report?
Alex, j-just say it. Just... just say it.
I was distracted, too. Okay?
I was distracted.
(distorted): What would you like me to do?
I was engaged.
I'll take mine outside.
And Mike and I were fighting,
and he called.
And I answered the phone,
and she got out of that car
to give me privacy.
And I let her.
QUINN: Shaw!
SHAW: Alex! I'm hit! Alex! Alex!
Help me! Alex! Please! Don't let me die!
Don't let me die.
(sobbing)
(siren wailing) Em! No! No, no, no, no...
(distorted, echoing): Can I get help?!
(siren approaching)
(siren wailing in distance))
And if I did not, she would be alive today.
You're why others are alive.
No phone call killed your friend.
And you didn't, either.
Shooters, Quinn.
Shooters killed her. Yeah.
(phone ringing)
You gonna get that?
Yeah, McGee?
Boss, Finley's in bed with the Dalys.
We got a lead on two locations.
Bishop and Reeves are on their way to one now.
Yeah. Just send me the other one.
(distant horns beeping, honking)
(train passing)
(dogs barking in distance)
(car alarm chirps)
Where you gonna hide now, Finley?
Clay.
(exhales) Mate, I'm sorry.
It was all a lie.
I trusted you.
Clay, you know where I'm at.
I needed the money.
When they offered to cut me in,
I couldn't say no. You couldn't?
It's blood money. I didn't kill
the Navy kid-- if he hadn't come along,
then no one would've been any the wiser.
Yeah, but when Clayton did get wise, you faked
your own kidnapping just to throw us off course.
Look, I think it would be for the best
if the two of you just left.
The Dalys will be here any minute.
You're worried about us now?
Come on, Clay, you and me are mates.
(panting)
You're not my mate.
She is.
Yeah, and I wouldn't worry about the Dalys.
What the hell?
Where'd it go?
NCIS!
Is it loaded, Gibbs?
Uh-huh.
Nick!
You shouldn't have.
I should have. Well, at least until...
Rhonda gets fixed.
Will you forgive me?
There is nothing to forgive. I mean, especially
after you came out with a very smart question
that saved the day, and without kicking down a single door.
Thank you. Thank you very much.
But I'm still not sure that I'm...
cut out for this, uh...
office life.
You know I'm here for you, right?
Sure. No, I mean it.
And change is hard,
but coming from where you've been
must be even harder.
Well, nothing I can't handle. Well, if you
have days where you can't handle it,
you can always come talk to me.
Okay.
Thanks. No.
Thank you-- for my new printer.
(grunts happily)
It's the same kind McGee has.
(laughs): It is? Oh, wow.
I didn't realize that.
(laughs)
(clicks tongue, taps keyboard)
(beeping)
Well... they weren't kidding--
you really have a boat down here.
It's not finished. Work in progress.
Yeah. Aren't we all.
How'd it go with Shaw's husband?
You know, even better than I hoped.
We had a long talk, and...
The kid is 13 years old now.
Couldn't believe it.
Time goes fast.
Thank you, Gibbs.
Thank you for sending me to Philly.
You know, if you hadn't, I'd still be running in place,
or treading water, or I don't know, pick a metaphor.
Stuck.
Stuck. That's it.
It's a work in progress, you know?
I have a lot of damage
to undo.
Like your engagement.
Whatever happened to that guy?
Man, you don't miss a detail.
It's our job.
Well, what I told you yesterday
not only ended my career as a field agent...
Temporarily.
It ended that relationship.
And a few others.
Safe to say,
uh, may have a commitment problem now. (laughs)
Something else to work on.
Yeah.
Also like how the hell
you're gonna get this boat out of here.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man