I don't miss city life one bit.
I mean, yeah, the new job starts a little too early,
but, uh, the trade-off?
There's no cabs, no subways, no stress,
quiet streets and actual wildlife.
Nice!
Hang on, I'm gonna text you a picture.
Oh! Oh, no!
♪ NCIS 11x21 ♪ Alleged Original Air Date on April 15, 2014
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪
Good morning, Bishop!
Oh! Morning, McGee, Tony.
What's up, Bish?
What do you got there?
Oh!
Just your basic bacon and egg.
You want some? No.
Uh, Tony and I are cleansing, remember?
Oh. Right.
What does that entail again?
One solid week of nothing but water
with lemon, cayenne pepper, and a little bit of
maple syrup. Mmm.
And one very nice salad every day.
So this is some sort of... competition?
No.
Uh, it's quite the opposite.
After McGee's
recent emancipation
from coupledom,
he was talking about
making a fresh start.
A clean break.
Purging some toxins.
And so I thought
- I would offer to help him out. - Stop.
First off, no one is "emancipated."
Delilah just happened to land a dream job
halfway around the world.
And secondly,
I seem to remember Tony
wanting to kick-start the new year
with a healthier new him.
But New Year's was months ago.
Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.
Actually, it's day two and I feel fantastic.
It's much easier with a buddy, isn't it?
Yeah, you bet, buddy!
Then... you're okay if I eat this in front of you?
Absolutely.
Bon appétit.
You sure?
I mean, I... I can go elsewhere.
Well, we're all going elsewhere.
Dead Navy officer in Chesapeake.
In that case, nobody'll mind if I finish this in the car.
This is gonna be a long ride.
Well, victim is Ensign Lester Tate, 23,
currently assigned to the USS Soteria,
home-ported a few miles from here in Norfolk.
What do you think, Duck?
Mm, it was not that texting driver
that killed the ensign.
But that damn fool should be stripped of both
his phone and his car.
He already dead?
Quite.
These facial abrasions and...
bruised knuckles would indicate
a spirited round of fisticuffs.
As usual, Jethro, we'll know more in autopsy.
Hey, how's that cleanse going, guys?
Shh.
The what?!
Nothing, boss.
Ah, yes, Mr. Palmer's
been telling me about your joint endeavor.
It's the age-old pursuit,
Jethro, of purifying one's system with
a supplemented diet, or colonic irrigation, perhaps?
Hmm. You guys doing that together, too?
Keep shooting, probie.
Do we have surveillance?
Uh, none on this road, Gibbs.
You and Tony check the other roads, canvass the neighbors,
see who saw the fight. McGee, come on, you're with me.
Welcome aboard. How can I help you?
Ensign, a word with your XO.
Oh. Good timing, sir.
Commander Wexler? NCIS on board.
What can I do for NCIS today?
You have an officer in your command, an Ensign Lester Tate.
Oh, he's on leave till 0600 tomorrow, sir.
Something wrong?
We're afraid he won't be reporting.
He was just found dead.
What?!
Oh, my God.
On a street in Chesapeake.
- Looked like he'd been in a fight. - Is there anything
you can tell us-- any conflicts or enemies?
None.
Far as I know, everybody loved the guy.
What about Burke? Is he okay?
Who's Burke? Ensign Thomas Burke.
He and Tate are good friends.
They rented a crash pad in town for the week.
Only, Burke...
didn't report for quarters this morning.
I just marked him "unauthorized absence."
You have an address?
Well, this is just a few blocks
from where we found Tate's body.
No luck with neighbors, Gibbs,
nobody saw a thing.
Ensign Burke!
NCIS! Open up!
Okay.
Get your hands on top of your head!
- NCIS! - Don't move!
I didn't do it!
Well, that's good to know.
Poor Tate.
Never should have left him.
You left him where?
The Silver Leaf. This, um...
This bar not far from here.
I cut out when he started ordering shots.
Around midnight or so.
I just can't believe he's dead.
All right, why don't we forget last night.
Let's talk about two minutes ago.
What about two minutes ago? Remember that time
when we crashed through the doors and we had our guns
and you went, "I didn't do it!"
You didn't do what, exactly?
You didn't know Tate was dead, Burke.
What didn't you do? I...
I, um... I-I'm drawing a blank.
I mean, you just startled me, that's all.
I don't know what I was saying.
You're gonna have to do better than that.
Well, I can't. I mean,
that's as good as I got. I...
You know, if you're gonna keep asking me,
maybe I should have a lawyer present.
Bedrooms are clear.
Pretty gross, but clear.
DiNozzo, take Bishop with you
and check out the bar. Burke...
you want a lawyer, call one.
Tell them to meet you at NCIS.
Say cheese.
Yeah, he was here last night,
till about midnight or so.
His buddy stuck around a while after.
Would this be his buddy?
That's him.
Didn't realize he was Navy.
Nice kid.
Hated having to throw him out.
Throw him out?
Him and some other guy.
Hell, he might have been Navy, too.
Why'd you throw 'em out?
Trading punches over some girl.
Just before closing, around 2:00.
Some girl in here? Couldn't tell you. All I heard was
a lot of "she"s and "her"s as they were throwing haymakers.
It was like a hockey fight.
Did it, uh, did it continue outside?
Couldn't tell you. My jurisdiction ends here.
You said the other guy you tossed out was Navy, too?
I said maybe.
I get Navy people, dock workers, townies.
They all kind of blend in around here.
Mm. So no name or description?
I'm better with drinks than names.
Kind of short,
dark hair, 20s.
Any other customers who saw the fight?
Again, I'm better
with drinks... Than names, yeah.
All right, you give me a call
if you can think of anything else. Thanks.
You bet.
What do you got, Duck?
Uh, Ensign Tate's blood alcohol level, 0.11.
Not fall-down drunk, but drunk enough.
Cause of death?
Ah, well, I've managed to narrow it down
to blunt-force crush trauma
to the squamosal suture.
Yeah, it's a vulnerable
sweet spot where these plates meet.
Not so sweet for Ensign Tate. Indeed.
It's likely that the ensign's killer
smashed his head against the pavement.
Possibly repeatedly.
Yeah, I managed to pull some asphalt samples.
I was about to bring them up to Abby,
see what they tell her.
Well, have her tell me.
Mmm!
You know, it's funny.
You give your taste buds a breather,
suddenly vegetables come a whole lot more tasty.
Hilarious. We have a timeline yet?
Mm, working on it.
We know Ensigns Lester Tate and Thomas Burke
met at the Silver Leaf at about 2145.
Burke left at midnight. Tate and a mystery man were
tossed out for fighting around 2:00.
Not much of a description, but we put a BOLO out just the same.
Anything on Tate's cell phone?
Yeah, one short call last night between him
and Ensign Burke at 2115.
The old "meet me for a beer" call.
Yup. Before that, a few calls to his ship,
a few more to Burke, and...
That's weird.
What's weird?
Two days ago, Tate exchanged multiple calls from this number.
Which number?
It's our number.
The NCIS information line.
Hang on...
Okay, it's not us.
Calls went through our main line,
but came out of our F-and-S-V unit.
Family and Sexual Violence?
What'd they want with Tate?
Well, we're about to find out.
Gibbs.
Special Agent Maureen Cabot,
I'm sure you and Agent Gibbs have
crossed paths at some point.
At various agency functions we're forced to attend, yes.
You still driving that Chevy?
Yes.
As you know, the Navy is pushing harder than ever
to eradicate sexual assault in their ranks.
Was Ensign Tate a rape suspect?
Right to the point, as always.
Uh, no, Gibbs, um, Tate was a second-party complainant.
He reported an assault on behalf of a friend.
What friend?
A fellow junior officer
now refusing to cooperate, Director.
Denies it ever happened.
What made Tate think it did?
Tate came to us two days ago, saying his friend's behavior
had changed in the last few weeks.
Uh, distracted, short-tempered.
When he asked her about it, she admitted the assault
and swore him to secrecy.
But he came to you anyway.
If only more like him did.
Did he know the attacker?
No, and neither did the victim.
She claimed that she'd been drugged and unconscious
during the attack.
So no suspects.
Oh, we've got suspects. She told Tate
that the assaults occurred
after a night drinking with him
and several other junior officers
during a port visit.
Did Tate's roommate Burke
know about the attack?
No, and his denials
were quite vehement.
"I didn't do it" and "It wasn't me,"
over and over.
So, why is the victim denying it now?
Take your pick, sir.
Shame, fear, loss of peer status.
Did she know that it was Tate who told you?
He's the only one she confided in,
so she had a pretty good idea.
Who is she?
Special Agent Gibbs.
You need our XO again?
No.
I'm here to see you, Ensign Farrell.
Me?
I'm sorry, Holly.
I told you, there was no assault.
It never happened.
Ensign Tate said you confided in him.
Why would he make that up?
You'd need to ask Ensign Tate.
It's a little late for that.
He was my friend.
I would never kill him or anyone else.
We were wondering if anyone else
could have acted on your behalf.
What, like a hit man?
There anyone else who knows?
Anyone else you confided in?
Never. I mean, I would never tell anyone else that...
There was nothing to tell.
Nothing happened.
God, I don't want to be doing this.
The only person you told is dead.
But that had nothing to do with me, right?
Please tell me it had nothing to do with what I told him.
Well, to do that, I would have to know what you said to him.
We had a port call in Key West last month.
The crew hit liberty like it was Spring Break.
I stuck with my brothers, as usual,
my fellow J.O.'s.
How many?
Uh, six, including Burke and Tate.
I can usually handle my margaritas,
but halfway through my second,
I... I felt like I had chugged a whole bottle.
So I headed back to the ship early.
As the only female J.O., you had your own quarters?
Next morning, I can't say I, uh... I woke up.
It was more like I... I came to.
I felt beaten up,
like I'd been through a cement mixer.
At first, I was... I was so mortified.
I felt like I'd done something terrible.
So then I just...
hit the showers and pretended like it never happened.
Next few weeks, I felt worthless...
paranoid...
I mean, even with my friends.
I-I had no idea who attacked me,
so I couldn't help but wonder if maybe they did.
I swear it was...
it was like I was losing my mind.
Until Tate asked what was wrong?
Then the floodgates opened.
Tate was so sweet.
He wanted me to call
the DoD Help Safeline, but I... I-I couldn't.
I made him promise he wouldn't either.
And that's when he came to us.
Hey, Gibbs.
Tony said that you wanted to...
to see me.
I'll be right back.
Abbs, how long do drugs stay in a person's system?
Um, well, it depends on the drug.
A roofie of some kind.
Oh, no.
Oh, God, that poor girl.
Abby, how long?
Not long.
72 hours.
What are you doing?!
Holly, stop.
Are you telling her about this?!
I was gonna have you drug-tested.
A drug test?
That would make sense, Holly.
If we can prove that you were drugged...
You can prove I'm not a liar?
No one thinks you're lying.
So now this woman knows about it.
And soon the entire Navy will know about it?
I would never tell a soul.
If we found a drug in you, Farrell,
we might have traced it to whoever attacked you.
And catching him
might have pointed to whoever killed your friend.
You can do that?
Well, we'd have tried.
But Abby here tells me that any drug like that
would've been out of your system by now.
But we still have you, Holly.
If you cooperate, we can go full bore after whoever attacked you.
No.
I'm sorry.
Have you seen the numbers
on sexual assaults?
Pretty bad.
Yeah, for all the talk about preventing it,
condemning it, avoiding it,
the numbers on it never seem to go down.
Everybody knows somebody with a story to tell.
Or not tell.
Somebody what?
Where are we on Tate's murder?
Roommate's alibi cleared.
Landlord saw Burke stumble home
a solid hour before Tate's bar fight.
We got anything new on that?
Well, if there is a rape involved, we have a new theory
as to who Tate and our mystery man may have been fighting over.
Bar's owner heard them say "she" and "her"
as he was tossing them.
We now wonder if "she" is Ensign Farrell.
And if our mystery man also happens to be our rapist,
he may have gone to the bar to shut Tate up.
And if he's on the crew of Tate's ship,
then we can show the photos to the bartender,
and mystery solved.
Well, then why are you still here?
Yeah, it's Gibbs.
Yeah, Director.
I'm on my way.
Gibbs thinks Tate's killer could point us to Holly's attacker.
Or they're one and the same.
Or one case has nothing to do with the other.
One thing I do know: without Holly cooperating,
the rape case is a lot harder to prove.
Look, I... I hate to ask, but one bogus claim
can cast doubt on a hundred legitimate ones.
So are we sure that there is something to prove?
You both spoke to her.
We're sure, Director.
I'm sure, Leon.
Damn.
What?
Well, just last week,
my daughter tells me that...
...she would like to become a Navy officer someday.
Just like thousands of women all around the country.
I want there to be no cases like this when they get there.
So there's really no convincing Farrell?
Not until she's ready.
All she wants is to get back to her ship.
All right.
Oh, don't... don't get up.
I just wanted to come and check on you.
Sorry I yelled before.
I'm usually a more trusting person.
Oh, you don't have anything to be sorry for.
And I just wanted to tell you that
I don't have any firsthand experience with
what you went through,
but nothing makes me sadder
or madder
or badder than even the thought
of what was done to you.
And I really didn't mean to rhyme just now.
You summed it up nicely.
As far as trust goes,
I want you to trust me when I tell you
that you can trust Agent Gibbs.
Like, a lot.
And I don't know Agent Cabot that well,
but I know that her unit is-is busting their butt
to try to stop what happened to you
from ever happening to anyone else.
I mean, how is anything good and right
supposed to make its way, if we don't help?
Oh, hey, Gibbs.
I wasn't trying to intrude.
I just wanted to check in on Holly
before she goes.
Is she still going?
Can't make her stay.
Come on, Holly, I'll drive you back to your ship.
Don't be a stranger.
Just take care of yourself.
Wait.
I lied to you before.
You lied to me?
All of you.
Including Tate.
What are you saying?
What really happened, Holly?
What haven't you told us, Farrell?
I didn't hit the showers first thing that morning.
I went to the NAS clinic
and filed a restricted report in Key West.
D-Did they run a rape kit?
Yeah. That's when it sunk in--
the idea of everyone knowing.
I couldn't go any further.
That rape kit will still be in storage.
If you file an unrestricted report,
we-we can have it sent here.
It might take a few days... N-No, it won't.
Okay.
I'll give a statement.
She'll get the kit.
Is there any chance Tate fought
with one of his shipmates?
No, none of them look familiar.
Anyone here in the bar see the fight last night?
None that I see.
But give me a minute, I'll look through those again.
Here you go. Oh, perfect.
Thank you.
What's that?
Oh, sorry.
Uh, the waitress came by while you were in the bathroom.
Chili cheese fries? Are you serious?
Well, I haven't eaten since lunch.
What are you talking about? You've been eating continuously.
You've had, like, nine or ten lunches since lunch.
I am not. It just seems that way
because you're not eating at all.
You're diabolically cruel. No, what's cruel
is what you're doing to yourself.
I mean, I don't even know why you need to cleanse.
If McGee can do it, so can I.
Ah! So this is a competition, which is... crazy.
I mean, you both look... fine.
"Fine." See what I mean? Yeah.
Yeah-- good, fit, healthy...
...ish.
Ish? Yeah.
Like you guys have anything to worry about
in the looks department.
Give me a break.
Well, when you put it like that...
Hey, fella.
You mind if I dance with your daughter?
Get me some more water, please?
That's him.
This guy?
Me? No, not-not you.
Him.
Get out of here.
Green shirt.
Just walked in. That's the guy from last night.
He's so not Navy.
I said maybe.
I'll cover the door.
Hey, there, can I ask you a couple...
Hey! NCIS! Don't move!
Stop! Hey!
Well, you can't beat a well-placed Dumpster.
Quite a hit parade here, Eddie.
Armed robbery, drunk and disorderly...
Doesn't mean I killed anybody.
Then why'd you run?
I'm an ex-con. That's what we do.
So you don't have any friends in the Navy?
Never been to Key West?
Look, I know nothing about any girl on a boat.
Then who were you fighting over?
Some chick at the bar.
I was getting my grind on and she pretended not to like it,
then suddenly Navy Boy gets in my face,
saying it's creeps like me
that make life worse for guys like him.
You believe that?
Completely. Very much so.
So bing-bang-boom, we did our dance,
and the bartender tosses us both
and we go our separate ways.
You sure about that last part?
I flew one way, Navy Boy the other.
Believe me, I wanted another crack at him, but my eye was cut.
That's why I went back to the bar last night looking for him.
Why would I do that if I knew he was dead?
Charming fellow.
Not our killer.
No. He has nothing to do with our assault.
Any word from Agent Cabot?
Farrell gave her a full statement.
Now we just wait for the rape kit.
Wait no more, Gibbs.
I mean, not for the kit 'cause that's still in transit.
But I was able to pull some strings
with the Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner in Key West.
I got the preliminary results. Mmm.
Negative for DNA. Yeah.
It's not uncommon for attackers to wear a condom.
But look at the drug tests.
Ketamine?
A horse tranquilizer?
Special K.
The other date rape drug.
My God, what chance did she have?
She's got a better chance now.
Gibbs...
...go and get this son of a bitch.
So this attack had nothing to do with Ensign Tate's murder?
We don't know yet, Captain.
Case is under separate investigation.
We're here solely on Ensign Farrell's behalf.
Zero tolerance is no slogan around here, Agents--
it's a moral imperative. If that officer was harmed
on this ship, we'll move heaven and earth to help you.
I only wish Farrell had said something at the time.
We could've done something about it.
We're doing something now.
We'll start by interviewing the four remaining J.O.'s
who were with Farrell and Tate in Key West.
- They're all yours. - Captain, there was also
a sedative used in the attack,
and, without probable cause, we can't search
your ship ourselves, so...
Understood. XO...
conduct a health and welfare inspection.
Aye, sir.
Fine with me if you want to tag along.
Yeah, sounds good.
Just putting together a timeline,
Ensign.
Whatever you recall about that shore leave in Key West.
Well, I-I know we all had fun.
Just so stoked being back on dry land.
Nothing but shipmates in every bar.
It's like we took over the town.
Seemed to me like Holly was having a blast,
like the rest of us.
Did I see her leave the party?
I didn't see me leave the party.
Me and Tate were calling her lightweight for leaving early.
We should've walked her back.
Yeah, pretty sure I saw Holly at breakfast.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Tate asked me, a few weeks later, if Holly seemed okay.
I mean, yeah, maybe she was a bit off,
but only Tate would come out and ask her why.
When Agent Cabot brought you in about the assault,
did you think that Tate had accused you?
No way. No, no, no.
Tate was my boy. He knew me better than that.
So you were... you were never mad at Tate.
No, sir.
I was mad at whoever did that to Holly.
That's why I called Tate to meet me at the bar.
I couldn't believe she didn't tell us. That girl was like our sister.
She always has our backs.
And if we'd known what happened,
we'd have had her back, too.
Once you got back to the ship that night, what was that like?
Everybody messing around, playing jokes.
No idea what time it was.
Well, hang on, I-I know what time it was. This...
app on my phone, it, uh, timestamps all my photos.
Yeah, here we are,
for better or worse, back in our bunks
at 0332.
There you are.
All together.
Any pictures of Holly that night?
Uh, sure, I must have a few.
At least, I think so.
She did cut out early, so...
Yeah, here's one.
A nice group shot.
Keep your chinny chin up, McGee.
We'll talk to you soon.
All right, search of the ship produced a dozen Cuban cigars,
some bootleg DVDs and one...
stowaway ferret.
But no ketamine. Apparently
Gibbs' interviews didn't go much better.
Then there's our case.
Oh, yeah...
We're in great shape.
Don't say it, Miss Chili Cheese.
Ah, just the agents for whom I was looking.
How are you, Ducky?
Better, thank you, Eleanor; now that I have ascertained
a more definitive cause of death for Ensign Tate.
Your prelim said it was blunt force
to the Quasimodo something. Mmm.
The squamosal suture was in fact the culprit, Tony,
but death was far from instantaneous.
The ensign suffered an epidural hematoma.
Like a slow bleed? Yeah, slow enough
that he may well have been able to walk a fair distance
before finally succumbing to his injury.
Walked?
Like, from the bar?
What punch could land hard enough to cause
an epidural hematoma to the squamosal suture?
Show-off. - Hey, guys,
um, Abby's tied up, you know,
on the... on the other case,
but she wanted me to show this to both of you.
Has to do with that asphalt that we pulled
from Ensign Tate's head wound.
What about it?
Well, aside from the...
usual bituminous sand and tar,
she also found trace elements
of vegetable oil.
Vegetable oil...
You know, like old, burnt vegetable oil
with microscopic bits of potato,
bread, onion...
Like from a deep fryer. Exactly.
But I don't remember any fast food joints near there...
No, but apparently they do.
Listen, uh, I-I kind of hate to ask,
but is there any kind of reward for helping you catch this guy?
We'll get to that, Fred.
But first we need to clear up a few more details.
So, you dragged both men out here
and sent them in separate directions?
Yeah, I pushed one guy that way.
Which guy? Ensign Tate?
No, your bad guy.
The Navy guy I pushed that way, toward the street.
Ah, towards the street
and this not-very-well-placed
and quite greasy Dumpster.
Yeah, I been meaning to clean that.
Any chance Tate could have hit the Dumpster
when you pushed him?
I guess. It's right there. Why?
Because our "bad guy," as you call him...
he's not our killer.
Okay.
So no reward?
Uh, a very delicate spot on Tate's skull
hit something hard,
heavy and... well, greasy.
It caused his brain to bleed and... Wait...
Are you saying I killed him?
Well, you obviously didn't mean to.
No, no-- i-it all happened so fast.
All I did was push.
We know that.
Oh, my God, what did... what did I do?
He... he was just a kid.
Oh, my God, what did I do?
So Tate defends a girl's honor
and ends up getting thrown on his head?
More or less. Accidental.
And it had nothing to do with what happened with me.
Nothing beyond Tate trying to do the right thing, both times.
That's him all the way.
Think that's why I told him,
hoping deep down, he'd tell you about it so I didn't have to.
I was just filling Holly in on our interviews.
How could I ever doubt those guys?
Like they'd ever be capable.
A long way from perfect but they're my brothers
and I turned on them. No.
No, someone turned on you. And we will
find him, Holly, even if it means talking
to every last man and woman on that ship.
I'm not saying I don't want you to talk to the whole ship.
I'm just saying that once you do,
I'm not sure I can go back on that ship.
Or any ship.
Don't quit.
I don't want to quit, sir.
But I also don't want people looking at me differently
and whispering behind my back.
That's something I don't think I can live with.
Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs.
We got something.
Tell 'em, McGee. Well, it was a long shot, boss,
but I got so frustrated when the ship search
came up empty, I ran a cross-check
between Navy personnel and ketamine use.
And he got a hit.
A civilian medical clinic in San Diego
treated a Navy officer stationed there three years ago.
Lieutenant Monica King.
She came in with a separated shoulder,
but the doctors found ketamine in her system.
Why wasn't she treated on base?
Well, that's a question for her,
except she left the Navy two months later.
Anyone on the Soteria stationed in San Diego three years ago?
No. It's the first thing I checked.
But if we can find Monica King,
maybe she knows who drugged her.
And who drugged Holly, too.
Come on. Let's go.
Let's find her.
Appreciate your time, Ms. King.
I see you're having some rough weather there.
Aw, it's just a little rain, sir.
And it's "Monica."
But no need for small talk. Agent on the phone
mentioned my tour in San Diego?
Uh, more specifically, Monica, a local clinic
that you visited there for a shoulder injury.
And a drug test.
We don't mean to blindside you.
You didn't.
I had a feeling.
Just, uh...
just kind of hard to believe somebody over there
finally wants to hear about this.
It's however you want to tell us.
Well, uh...
the USS Panther was in port, and...
like always, a few coworkers and I
hit the Officers' Club just to say hi
and have a drink with some of their people.
And, uh... I had just started on...
my second glass of wine
when my eyes got real, real heavy.
I-I barely remember getting back to my apartment across from base
before I-I just passed out.
And the, and the rest is kind of sketchy.
Just dark flashes and...
a weight on me.
My arm was twisted real, real hard behind me...
and, uh...
Do you really need to hear about this?
Did you know who it was?
Never saw him.
You know, I waited a day to tell my XO.
Stupid. He said
without a name, what did I expect him to do?
No. ROTC...
three years active duty,
all my dreams
just over
in one night.
What's that XO's name?
Rundy.
I hear he's a captain now.
Old-school, untrained, insensitive...
There's no Rundy on Farrell's ship.
I'll find him.
Boss, I'm not finding anyone named Rundy on the USS Panther.
No, no, no-- Rundy was Monica's base commander.
We need to cross-check the Soteria's crew now
with the Panther's crew from three years ago.
Got it. Anyone that served on both ships.
It's late.
It is not too late.
Oh, it's not too late at all.
Who?
This is nuts.
Sit down.
Really?
What, was I not helpful enough for you?
No.
No, you were very helpful.
Let you search my ship, question my guys.
On what, the word of one girl?
Who's great and all, but, come on,
a whole month and a half later?
Do you know this woman?
You met her three years ago
in San Diego, when your previous ship,
the Panther, was moored there.
No.
I was on the Panther,
but I never laid eyes on this girl.
She wasn't a girl, Wexler, and neither is Holly Farrell.
They were both Navy officers
when you laid a lot more than eyes on 'em.
Hey, back off.
I put in 15 years in seven different commands.
I've worked with hundreds of female J.O.'s.
You think these two somehow turned my head?
We looked into those seven commands, Wexler,
and we found a total of nine
female subordinates that were assaulted in the same way.
A good XO stays on top of his crew on liberty.
He pops into the bars they hit.
Maybe buys 'em a round of drinks.
If you even suggest
that I'm a rapist, which I am not,
it'll kill my career.
I don't recognize any of these women.
Because they're not unconscious?
You son of a bitch...
You've been saving that one, Mo.
You have no idea.
Today is a much better day.
Understatement of the year there, Bish-op.
Just met with Fred the bartender's lawyer.
He thinks the charge will be reduced to involuntary manslaughter.
Yeah.
Sure beats the alternative.
Right? Mm-hmm.
You must be feeling good, Mr. Purple Shirt.
Mm-hmm.
Without your mad computer skills,
there would still be a predator on the loose.
Yeah.
Yeah, it feels good.
What is it?
Nothing.
Tony, I'm sorry.
How long?
Just this once?
Okay, it's been the whole time. But we...
we've been working late. I was weak.
I don't even know who you are anymore.
Wait, please, I have another one-- here.
Take it. It's yours.
You can't buy me with your pepperoni.
I want a steak.
And creamed spinach.
And French fries. Mmm.
Can I get in on this?
Yes. Absolutely.
Steaks all around. My treat. Let's go.
Hmm.
Okay.
It's hard to wrap my head around.
I mean, the guy never came across as a Boy Scout
or anything, but neither do
half my friends.
Hard to know some people.
Yeah, especially somebody like him. Ugh.
And Cabot really cracked him?
Okay...
I'm really antiviolence,
but it was awesome.
I wish you could've seen it. Yeah, me, too.
But I'll get my shots in at his court-martial.
Where are you heading?
Shipmates are having a little memorial for Tate
before he's sent back to his family up in Syracuse.
There'll be a lot of talk about Wexler and what happened to you.
You ready for that?
Guess I'll just have to be.
Do you need... some company or anything?
No.
I have a ride coming.
Thanks for offering, Abby.
And, you know, for everything.
She was right about you.
Oh, well, she's right about a lot of things.
Hey, Hol.
Ready?
She just stole your move.
That was totally a...
patented Gibbs head slap right there.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man