All language subtitles for NCIS.S03E08.Under.Covers.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb

What do you think?

Not bad, I suppose.

Not bad, she says,

as she walks in
from the outdoor patio,

past the fax machine

and the minibar.

Complimentary basket
of fruit.

This is the perfect way

to spend a weekend.

Come on!

Big-screen TV.

Ooh, 200 channels.

Look at this, HBO,
ESPN, History Channel,

Turner Classic Movies.

I take it you're not
interested in premium channels.

There's only one thing
I'm interested in right now.

Captioning sponsored by
PARAMOUNT TELEVISION

and CBS

( erotic moans )

( techno-pop playing )

Think they bought it?

I did.

That's fairly obvious.

For your information,
that's my knee.

Whatever.

You can get off me now.

It's only been ten minutes.

I have a reputation
to protect.

We're not even sure if we're
under surveillance yet, Tony.

You can't be too careful
when you're undercover.

Let's give it another
40 minutes

just to be realistic.

Realistic, huh?
Mm-hmm.

In that case...

I prefer it on top.

I can live with that.

( groans )

What was that for?

Because that was definitely
not your knee.

Mm, she's very
beautiful, Jethro.

Her name's Sophie Ranier.

She's murdered over
25 people, Duck.

And her friend?

Her husband--

Jean-Paul Ranier.

Both Canadian citizens.

Both contract assassins.

She suffered
extensive injuries.

It may take quite a while

to determine the actual
cause of death.

They were killed in a car
accident two days ago

outside of Kuwait
International Airport.

There's the accident report.

I'm assuming this is urgent.

I've waited three months
to see Giselle.

Yeah, apologies about
the girlfriend, doc,

but I do need you...

Giselle's a ballet.

You really should get out

of your basement more,
Jethro.

We need to know everything
we can about these two, Ducky.

Why is NCIS investigating this?

Marine CID found two fake
U.S. passports

and two first-class tickets
for Washington, DC,
in their luggage.

They have reservations at the
Barclay through November 10.

Marine Corps birthday.

They're holding the ball there.

Hosted by the commandant
of the Marine Corps.

Our top military leaders

congressmen, and agency
directors will be there.

Including me.

GIBBS:
Tony and Ziva

have taken their
room reservations
at the Barclay.

They're there now

pretending to be
these two.

They're working blind, Duck.

We're counting on you

to fill them in

on some of the more personal
details of our couple.

Though it may be
common knowledge

that I talk to my patients,

unfortunately, to date, none of
them have ever answered me back.

Listen harder.

Sweetheart, you know what
I could really use right now?

( sniffs )

Some deodorant?

I was thinking
more along the lines

of a back massage.

Good idea.

Why don't you roll over
like a good boy.

Oh... wow.

And to think my mother
thought I was

too good for you.

Ow!

What'd I miss?

They had sex.

They have any contact
with anyone yet?

Just each other.

Multiple times.

Was it good for you?

( knocking )

Wait. Someone's knocking
at their door.

ZIVA:
Who is it?

MAN:
Room service.

Room service.

Compliments
of the hotel management.

Gibbs wants me to sweep
the room for bugs...

place some of our own.

And he also wants
to talk to you.

You can put it
over there, please.

Very good, ma'am.

ZIVA:
Garcon, we'd like

some extra bath towels.

MCGEE:
Of course.

Just checking to make sure
everything's in order.

Would you like me
to have the maid

make up the bed for you, sir?

Oh, that won't
be necessary.

ZIVA:
Oh, and can you check
the minibar?

I'd like it restocked
with Red Bull.

Red Bull.

That'll keep you up
all night, ma'am.

Exactly.

Please accept this
assortment of cheeses,

compliments
of the hotel.

What's wrong?

Room service put a tray
on our microphone.

You know what that means.

We're screwed?

Nope. You get to dress up
as a maid, Maya.

( whispering ):
If you whisper,

it should be okay.

Comfortable, DiNozzo?

Well, yeah,

working on it.
Why do you ask?

We're looking at you,
Agent DiNozzo.

All of you.

( champagne cork pops )

Uh, sorry about that.

DiNozzo, what the hell

are you doing?

You're married assassins.

You're not visiting
the Playboy mansion.

It was kind
of Ziva's idea, boss.

( phone ringing )

Incoming call.

Have her answer it.

Sweet cheeks, do you think
you could go over

and answer the phone for me
while I pour us some champagne?

Thanks, honey.

Yes.

There's a cell phone
in the Bible next to your bed.

Got it.

Keep it with you
at all times.

You have dinner reservations

at the hotel dining room
at 9:00.

Don't be late.

The concierge.

We were able to get into
the dining room after all...

my love.

It looks like I'm getting
dressed up for you tonight.

That wasn't
the concierge.

That was their contact.

We're on the move.

Let's go. We've got
to get dressed for dinner.

I'm going.

ABBY:
Don't look at me
that way, Gibbs.

It was league night when
I got your 911.

I was two frames away
from a perfect score.

And just for the record,

these stupid outfits
were not my idea.

I like it.

Is is kind of cute, huh?

No sign of Mr. Palmer,
I suppose?

Not since this afternoon, Ducky.

Abs, these are
their personal effects.

Get yourself wired so you can
feed whatever you find

directly to DiNozzo
and David.

Looking for anything
in particular?

Yeah, anything
that will help those two

act like them.

Solid on the visuals, Tony.

TONY:
There's quite a crowd
here tonight.

See anyone you know,
sweet cheeks?

Not yet.

But the night's

just getting started,
my little hairy butt.

Abs.
I'm loading the photos
into the computer.

Duck, you got any scoop
for our married couple?

I have the breakdown
of the contents

of their stomachs
and intestines.

If Mr. Ranier had lived,

I would have suggested
a more fiber-rich diet.

His colon was almost impacted
with fecal material.

( chuckles )

You think it's too late
to order a salad?

Good evening.

Table for two?

ZIVA:
I believe our food is here now.

Thank you.

Bon appetit,
mon petit pois.

McGee...

report.

Got the restaurant covered
from the entrance, boss.

I'm a meat and potatoes
kind of guy.

Tony, the calluses
on Mr. Ranier's hand

suggest he was
left-handed.

GIBBS:
Switch hands, DiNozzo.

This is nice, isn't it?

Yeah, a quiet
little dinner--
( phone ringing )

just the six of us.

Our friend is calling.

Abs, I want that number.

Got it.

Starting a reverse
search directory now.

ZIVA:
I'm glad you called.

We were getting bored.

Thought it would help to see
your target in person tonight.

He's here?

You don't see him?

Relax.

I've been flying for
over 20 hours.

And the restaurant's packed.
We will.

Talk to me, Abs.

He's calling from
a pay phone.

The address is coming up.

You didn't mention
anything about

being surrounded
by U.S. Marines.

It's too dangerous
for the sum you're paying us.

Accomplish your mission,
and we'll discuss more.

( chuckles )

But you won't pay us more.

ABBY:
Got it!

2205 M Street.

He's calling from a pay phone
inside the restaurant.

GIBBS:
DiNozzo, McGee!
Already moving.

I have to go
to the little boy's room.

I have to talk
to my boss.

Do that.
We'll wait for you to...

( line clicks )

He hung up.

Don't move. Federal agent.

It's me, Probie.
He's gone.

Must have slipped out
through the kitchen.

I didn't even get a look.

Want us back in the
squad room, boss?

No, I want you and Ziva
back in your room

maintaining your cover.

Oh. ( clears throat )
All night?

Do I stutter or something,
DiNozzo?

Afraid I'll bite, Tony?

The name is Jean-Paul, Sophie.

Jean-Paul.

Hey, Abs, what do you got?

I have a "whoopee"
and I have a "but."

Abby?

Whoopee-- I got
a photo of the man

that Tony and Ziva
are going to assassinate.

But?

But...

I have no idea which
of these 32 photos is him.

What makes you think
the target's a male?

Did you forget
I'll be there?

No, whoever
set up the hit

referred to the
caller as a man.

You made contact?

Ziva got a pay phone call.

You trace it?

Gee, why didn't
I think of that?

Sorry, Jethro.
I'm a little tired.

Yeah, well, you never could
pace yourself very well.

( erotic moaning )

I have one word
for you, Jethro.

Mm?

Positano.

Come on.

That was a week
after I took a bullet.

Uh-huh.

Where did the call
originate?

Pay phone, the hotel.

We got there,
the guy was gone.

SHEPHARD:
At least we know
he's here

keeping tabs
on the operation.

Abby's matching
these photos

with reservations
in the restaurant.

She'll check the names
against invites to the ball.

It'll narrow the target.

What if the hit has nothing
to do with the ball?

Someone who's a guest
at the hotel?

Ziva told him she didn't know

the target would be surrounded

by Marines.

And he wasn't surprised.

No.

Hey, nothing's
going to happen tonight.

Tony and Ziva
are hitting the rack,

all the backup teams
are in place

around the hotel.

Why don't you go grab 40
on the couch in your office?

No, I just need
a little coffee.

Yeah? When the
caffeine jolt ends?

I'll do what you do.

Get a refill.

You're not me.

Chauvinist.

( chuckles )
Yeah.

Yeah... I guess.

Good night, Jen.

Jethro?

Uh-huh?

Need to bounce something
off you.

Okay, shoot.

My director side is telling me
flood that hotel with security

and notify the FBI of a
potential terrorist attack.

My agent side?

If I do that,

we lose the chance
to take down an enemy cell

operating inside
the capitol.

They'll scatter.

Of course, you'd stay
the course,

trust your people
to get the job done.

You telling me
what I'd do?

Asking.

If I was director, I'd give
my people another 24.

They can't get
the job done,

I'd notify the FBI.

You'd really do that?

Nah. But that's why
I'll never be director.

( snoring )

( snoring continues )

The man snores
like a drunken sailor.

Well, we won't have
to listen much longer.

He saw their target
at the restaurant.

We're on plan.

Watched the videotape

of their session
this afternoon, Maya.

It was pretty hot stuff.

These two really know
how to live their life.

You, uh, you ever think
about that maybe...?

Forget it. We're here
on a mission, period.

You want something
more than coffee,

call room service.

( snoring continues )

( snoring )

Oh, my God.

Ziva? Shh...

( snoring stops )

( snoring resumes )

Come on, you're killing me here.

( guttural snoring )

Sophie!

( gasps )

What?

Nothing.
I thought I heard something.

( mumbles )

Crazy chick.

ZIVA:
I heard that,
my little hairy butt.

( chuckles, resumes snoring )

Morning, boss.

Thank you.

Hey, boss,
this was sitting

on my front porch
this morning.

What is it?

It's a package
addressed to Ziva.

Well, yeah,
I can see that, McGee.

What is in it?

Wasn't sure if
I should open it.

That's probably why
she's using you as her mule.

Sunglasses.

With different lenses?

Why?

To protect her eyes?

You know, I'm going
to ask her.

I'm going to find out.

Yeah, good idea, McGee.

Give 'em their
wake-up call.

MCGEE:
Tony?
Mm.

Hey, DiNozzo!

Tony!

This is great.

They're sleeping in a five-star
hotel, I'm a waiter.

ZIVA:
Want to trade places, McGee?

You're awake.

Since 0500.

He snores.

I've got a package here for you.

My shades.

Can you bring them up
with breakfast?

Sure. Gibbs wants Tony up, too.

Huh, my pleasure.

Jean-Paul, my little furry bear.

Wake up, cheri.

I'm in position, boss!

Ooh!

DUCKY:
Make the stitches precise,
Mr. Palmer.

Uh, yes, Doctor.

And when you're done,

I want the supply locker
inventoried and cleaned.

I, uh, actually,
already did that, Doctor.

Then do it again.

What have we
found out, Duck?

That my assistant,
Mr. Palmer here,

should keep
his cell phone with him

and turned on
at all times.

What can you tell me
about our assassins?

Mr. Ranier here
had his appendix removed,

Mrs. had her left wrist broken
as a child.

We did, however, find some
rather curious markings.

Markings?

Well, tattoos might be
the more appropriate word.

Almost invisible
to the naked eye.

On the inside

of the fourth digit of
both of their left hands.

An eight?

Or the sign
for infinity.

Some kind of
terrorist cell I.D.?

DUCKY:
On their ring fingers.

Perhaps it means
"love forever."

You know, I want to take
another look at the X rays,

make sure I didn't miss
anything else.

Yeah, do it.

Missed a stitch
there, Palmer.

We really should take you
to see the doctor, sweet cheeks.

Why's that?

Because you snore like a drunken
sailor with emphysema.

Look who's calling
the pot black.

Kettle. Pot is calling
the kettle black.

Oh, I'd really
like some music.

Something with
a little beat,

dear?

Sorry.

( R&B music plays )

* Ooh, you want me...

What do we got?

Mm, sneaky people.

Top floor, northwest corner,
Gibbs.

They have a laser trained
on our room.

I can't believe
that your sunglasses

can detect different
light spectrums.

Ziva, that is amazing.

DiNozzo, we're going
to need a diversion.

I think we can manage
something, boss.

Let's roll, McGee.

( mocking ):
Ziva, that is amazing.

Big whoop, she has spy glasses.

Anyone can do that.
That's not amazing.

ZIVA:
You realize we can still hear
you, right, Abby?

I think I'm going to need
a cold shower after this.

Disgusting.

( DiNozzo and Ziva moaning )

Give me those binoculars.

I don't know
how much longer...

I can keep
this up, boss.

96, 97, 98...

We're in position, DiNozzo.

Give it the big finish.

( DiNozzo moaning )

We could make a fortune

with this off the Internet.

They're serial
killers, Yussif.

I wouldn't recommend trying.

( all yelling )

NCIS!
FBI, freeze!

Put it down!

I got a whole new respect
for NCIS, Agent McGee.

You guys are hard-core.

Ah, we got lucky.

It's actually the trained laser
on the room that gave you away.

We were talking
about your agents

pretending to be
married assassins.

Very convincing.

I don't think
anyone in the FBI

would actually
go all the way

just to sell
a cover story.

I would.

Guys, they were acting.

Trust me...

I know when someone's acting
when they're having sex.

It's true--

I've met his wife.

Well, Tony and Ziva
wouldn't.

...unusual for men
to like love stories.

( Ziva chuckling )

How do I explain
to the director of the FBI

that we're running
an undercover op

in his jurisdiction
without informing him.

With a smile.

It's not funny, Gibbs.

They had intel
that two assassins

were going to hit
a target

at the Marine Corps
Birthday Ball.

Did you get
that memo?

No.

Why didn't I think of that?

Because you're exhausted.

I told you--
get some sleep.

And do that before you take on
the director of the FBI.

I can't, Jethro.

I can fix this.

How?

You're not the only one
around here

knows how
to play politics.

( chuckling )

You're not serious.

Your idea of politics
usually involves

some form
of physical violence.

Well, you know
what they say, Jen...

can't make an omelet
unless you break a few eggs.

Are we free to go now?

Not yet.

What the hell's
NCIS doing...
Our job, Fornell.

Yeah, that involve
jeopardizing our operation?

You're damn lucky
we didn't blow these two away.

Which wouldn't have happened
if you hadn't strayed

into our jurisdiction!

Conference room...
now!

So anxious to play
with the big boys...

GIBBS:
Really? Big boys,
my ass!

Yeah, this is going
to be ugly.

Oh, yeah. Fornell
hasn't been this upset since...

The last time
we saw him.

( elevator bell dings )

( elevator stops )

Gum?

The big boys?

( chuckling )

We really screwed this one up.

Oh, you think, Tobias?

The question is,
how do we fix it

without our directors

getting into
a world-class
pissing match?

Joint op.

Who's lead?

My team's
already in place.

Did you find out
who hired them?

Not yet.
Working on it.

I need more than that

for my tap dance
at the Hoover Building.

Give us 24 hours,
then we flip.

FBI gets
operational control?

Yeah, and credit
for the collar.

Agreed.

Directors get to
save face and we...

Get the job done.

And people say
we're bastards?

Only because
they know us.

( both chuckling )

( elevator bell dings )

I've got the I.D.'s
on the people in
the restaurant

who have invites to the
Marine Corps Ball, ma'am.

Uh, Abby.

Sorry.

Make sure Tony and Ziva
get 'em.

Okay. Should I also check
restaurant staff, too?

International assassins
hired to take out a waiter?

I was just trying
to be thorough.

No...

it's good.

Good instincts, Chip.
Run 'em.

Okay.

Hey, Abby, can I
ask you a question?

Yes.

Why don't you like
Officer David?

What makes you think
I don't like her?

Uh, I found this.

Oh... that.

I understand.

I have the same problem
with DiNozzo.

Tony is a great guy.

You just have
to get to know him.

Yeah, well, you don't
know him like I do.

He always
gives new people grief.

He learned that from Gibbs.

Okay, quiz time.

What's your take
on Sophie Ranier's blood test?

Well, she's got elevated levels

of human chorionic
gonadotropin.

Which means?

She's pregnant?

Good, Chip.
She's pregnant.

Who's pregnant?

Ziva...
well, not Ziva, Ziva,

but Sophie Ranier,

our dead hit girl.

She's got a bun
in the oven.

Like what you see,
Agent DiNozzo?

You're room's clean

except for the
listening devices
we installed.

We're free to talk.

Yeah.

So... you're the one
who's been watching us?

Oh, yeah.

When this is over,

we really should go
out for drinks.

I-I'd like that.

ZIVA:
I'm pregnant, Tony.

Maybe some other time.

She was...
she was kidding.

Something wrong?

Thanks.

Oh, she's really
not your type anyway.

Hot... and in
a maid's outfit.

They don't get
any more my type.

( cell phone ringing )

He's learning.

Number's blocked.

Talk to me.

I've been told
to negotiate a price

commensurate with the risk.

I'm listening.

Not on the phone.

Be in the lobby
in exactly one hour.

A black Lincoln
will be waiting out front.

Make sure
you're not followed.

In position, boss.

Your people set, Tobias?

Got four unmarked vehicles
standing by.

We'll be able to follow them
wherever they go.

Tony, Ziva...
get ready to roll.

Hour's almost up.

Roger that, boss.

You haven't fired
your weapon,

so it's already clean.

It calms my mind.

It forces me
to stay focused

at the job in my hand

The term's "job at hand."

Same difference.

Something wrong?

Just trying
to picture you pregnant.

Don't.

I have to.

I'm going to be
a father.

It's a great responsibility.

Maybe it's not yours.

Maybe she didn't know.

Oh, she knew.

So, why take this contract?

Put her unborn child
in danger?

Perhaps we needed the money.

Kids are expensive.

And bullets are cheap.

There's a big chance
this meeting is a set-up, Tony.

You scared?

No.

Excited.

No sign of the Lincoln yet.

GIBBS:
That's a solid copy, McGee.

We're sending them down.

FORNELL:
All mobile units,

prepare to roll
on my mark.

This reminds me

of our op in the former
Czech Republic.

You took a round
in the thigh.

I had the same
bad feeling before
that op, too.

We're on our way
to the elevator, boss.

GIBBS:
Tony, Ziva...

we're not taking any chances
on this one.

First sign it goes bad,
you call it.

TONY:
Hold the door.

Thanks.

Sure.

Sweetheart...

Okay, black Lincoln
just pulled up.

Yeah, got a visual
on that, McGee.

Got a match. Abby!

Man and a woman just got out.

Heading into the hotel.

Car's leaving.

I can see that, McGee.

All units,
hold your positions.

That's not our Lincoln.

CHIP:
The waiter's got a warrant
out on him.

For what?

Murder.

( bell dings )
You're getting off here.

Not a wise choice,
Mr. and Mrs. Ranier.

Weapons.

We would've come
to the third floor
ourselves.

Three armed escorts seems
a bit excessive.

Very good.

Our location and our number
in two sentences.

It's too bad your friends
can't hear you.

You're being jammed.

MARCOS:
Bring them to my room.

If they resist...

...shoot the woman.

Come on, let's go.

Tony, Ziva, do you copy?

DiNozzo, I said, do you copy?

McGee!

What the hell
is going on there?

MCGEE:
Boss, they're not in the room.

They never arrived in the lobby.

My teams have the entire outside
of the building covered.

They didn't leave
the hotel, Gibbs.

Last contact was
at the elevator--

that leaves 11 floors they
could've gotten off at.

11 floors, McGee.

How many rooms
we looking at?

Um, well, if we don't count
individual bathrooms

and, uh, closets...
McGee!

264 hotel rooms,
22 utility rooms.

They haven't checked in
because they can't.

They're at the
meet right now?

They removed their earwigs
and they dumped their comm

when it was changed
to the hotel.

We go room by room.
My people seal off...

No. We wait.

What for?

For Ziva to contact us.

We move now,
we blow their cover,

Fornell.

And if their cover
is already blown, Director?

There are two things
you should be painfully
aware of right now.

One...

no one leaves this business.

And two,

never threaten the people
who employ you.

Should I be writing this down?

I take that as a "no."

Where's the disk?

What disk?

Where,
Mrs. Ranier?

What makes you think we have it?

We spotted your backup
at the restaurant.

On some level, you must have
known this was gonna happen.

Hm, observant.

How much is our disk
worth to you?

( punch lands )
( Tony grunts, groans )

I have a better question.

What's it worth to you?

ABBY:
It's bad, Gibbs.

It's very, very bad.

Remember when we
missed nabbing

the guy
in the restaurant?
Mm-hmm.

Well, Tony said he
didn't see anything,

but the eye sees more
than we think it does.

It's the brain
that misses stuff--
it has to do

with the firing of the optic
nerve and the visual cortex...

You found something
from Tony's camera.

Well, I went to the feed,
frame by frame.

Now, Tony is looking
at the pay phone,

because that's where
he thinks the target is.

But a camera doesn't think,
it just records.

So when he runs
past the kitchen door

of the restaurant,
we got... this.

Our bad guy.

Run it.
I want a name.

I do. I did.

Marcos Siazon.

He's a contract
assassin, Gibbs.

He's wanted in more
than five countries.

It doesn't make any sense.

Why would a killer
hire other killers

to do a hit for him?

( soft groan )

Out of professional
courtesy,

I've had Mr. Cord go
lightly on your husband.

And I appreciate that.

Unfortunately, we're
running out of time.

If you let him go,
I'll tell you where
the disk is.

You'll tell me either
way, Mrs. Ranier.

Why don't you two
take a moment...

...consider your options.

( door opens, closes )

I might have a plan.
What?

The Raniers obviously
stole something they want,
and you're gonna give it to 'em.

We don't have it.

You're gonna tell them
it's in our hotel room,

the only way they'll find it
is if you show 'em.

McGee should be waiting
for us in there.

Good plan-- except for
one minor drawback.

What?

When I leave...

they'll most likely put
a bullet through your head.

Oh. Well, I didn't say

it was a perfect plan.

Two centimeters below
the supra-orbital notch.

What do you make
of it, Mr. Palmer?

I originally assumed
it was a speck of dirt

on the exposure.

It appears to be...

a heart?
Yes.

( chuckles ):
Rather a strange place
to find one.

Don't you agree?

It appears to be gold,
surgically embedded

in the conjunctival layer.

Perhaps some type
of body jewelry?

Jewelry embedded in an eye?

Oh, yes, you'd be amazed
what people do to themselves.

To Abby, please.

I doubt anyone would notice
your little gold heart

unless they knew it was there.

Staring into your eyes,
face to face...

like a lover.

ABBY:
I found a chip in it.

Flash memory embedded
underneath, sir.

500-megabyte capacity,

50 MPS throughout.

Translation?

It contains the Raniers'

personal data
in two files.

One has a list of
numbered bank accounts,

a deed for a restaurant,
a house in Gilead, Maine.

We also ran the address--
the phone service and cable

are scheduled to be turned on
next week, sir.

Sounds like
a retirement plan.
She was pregnant,

they were getting out
of the business-- what
about the other file?

It has a list
of their clients.

Their names, addresses,
phone numbers,

all their information,
everything.

Insurance policy?
Their ticket out.

They weren't hired
to make a hit, Gibbs.
They are the hit.

Did you know the Peruvians
make blades so sharp,

some people can't even feel

the initial
incision.
Stop.

The disk's in our hotel room.

Don't. He'll only
use it...
Where?

She has to show you.

Not what I asked.

TONY:
You'll never find it
without her.

Even if you kill us.

( sighs ):
Untie her.

( keypad beeps )

( phone ringing )

I'm in position.

Clear the room--
I'm on my way up with the girl.

My pleasure.

( beeps )

MARCOS:
Your only mistake was

going for one last big payday.

You got greedy.

I'm pregnant.

Really?

Congratulations.

Boy or girl?

I don't know.

We want to be surprised.

That's the best way,
believe me.

How many months?

Three.

Morning sickness?

Only every single day.

I hated to see my wife

go through it.

But believe me,
it's all worth it in the end.

So you're not
going to kill us?

We're assassins.

You know we can't just walk away

from the game
when we feel like it.

Hell, and to think I'd rather be

at my daughter's fifth birthday
than here.

So you are gonna kill us, right?

I haven't
decided yet.

Give me the disk,
and we'll see.

Play it by ear.

If I'm not back
in five minutes...

...kill him.

That was purely
for your wife's cooperation.

We like to call them
little white lies.

Open it.

( beeps )

I hope you weren't counting
on your backup, Mrs. Ranier.

He's not my backup.

Tony!
Third floor, room 356.

All teams, third
floor, room 356.

Federal agent
in distress.

Copy. We're moving.

You know what's funny?

I was really looking forward

to having a kid there
for a minute.

This is a big step for me.

Having a little DiNozzo
running around.

( chuckles ):
DiNozzo?

Yeah, that's my full name--
Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo,

NCIS.

( grunting )

TONY:
How's that feel, huh?!

( grunts )
Huh, big guy?!

( kicking, grunting )

ZIVA:
Enough!

You want to punch me again?
Come on!

Tony, enough, enough.

Tony,

I think you made
your point.

( panting ):
I want a divorce.

DUCKY:
The emergency room
seems to have done
a pretty good job.

How do you feel?

Better,
now that I can breathe.

DUCKY:
There doesn't
appear to be any
permanent damage.

How many times
did he hit you?

I wasn't counting.

Seven times.

She was, of course.

It was hard not to.

We're gonna take
really good care of you, Tony.

I had Chip pull your car
right around front.

He drove my car?

Just... from
your parking space.

I took extra special care.

Oh. Thanks.

And, uh,

I'm driving you home.
Probie?

Uh, Ziva, actually, I should
probably drive him home tonight.

Why is that?

Maybe he wants to live.

DUCKY:
Yes, well, however you get home,

I suggest a couple of aspirin.

( whimpers ):
Ow.

DUCKY:
Yes, and perhaps some scotch.

Thought doctors
weren't supposed

to prescribe alcohol
anymore, Duck.

Well, it always seems
to work for you.

You get tickets to that
Gazelle thing again?

It's Giselle, Jethro,
and no, that's not tonight.

Marine Corps
birthday ball.

She didn't tell you?

DUCKY:
Our lovely director has asked me

to escort her.

TONY:
All right,

good night, boss.

Darn!

I'm good.

Hey, Gibbs.

Happy birthday.

I miss you guys.

Semper fi.

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