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Original subtitles

Keep screaming, honey.

That way the monster will never find you.

Boo!

We don't want to wake the neighbors now, do we?

No rough stuff... yet.

This is gonna be good.

Hey, easy now.

Easy.

Easy.

Please don't!

Break out the gear. I'll coordinate with the MPs.

You drink that, DiNozzo, you're dead.

Just my luck. One more hour and we would have been off duty.

Got big plans today, Tony?

Well, it is Saturday, Kate. What do you think?

Oh, you have a date with a girl who can't spell her last name?

First name?

No, I... No, I'm supposed to volunteer at the 8th Street soup kitchen today.

You help feed the homeless? Don't be so surprised.

Sorry, I just never pictured you as a volunteer type.

There's a lot about me you don't know, Kate.

You're right. I'm actually impressed for once.

Coffee, probie? It looks like you can use it.

Oh, thanks, Tony. Don't mention it.

Oh, you know, I think he's finally starting to warm up to me.

He even invited me to a party this afternoon.

Really, where? It's a soup kitchen in DC.

A bunch of Playboy centerfolds hosting a fundraiser there.

Seems pretty open and shut.

Perp broke in, tried to rape her. She shot him.

Guy's in critical conditional at the base hospital.

I have a Marine standing guard. You ID him yet, Sergeant?

No, and he's not exactly in talking shape either, sir.

With this much blood loss, the guy's lucky to be alive.

Where's Mrs. Rowens? With the neighbor next door.

I'll need her statement. This is Sgt Hegarty.

Bring Mrs. Rowens home. I'll meet you out front.

Where's the weapon? It's over here,

on the other side of the couch.

Did you touch it? Hell, no, sir.

I did get the serial number though.

It's registered with the provost marshal under her husband's name,

Major David Rowens.

He's deployed in Iraq.

Been gone for over five months.

We checked the exterior of the house, Gibbs.

No sign of a forced entry.

They tend to leave their doors unlocked.

"They," Sergeant? Well, this is a military base, ma'am.

The women expect a certain level of security in their own homes.

I suspect that'll change after today.

Kate, DiNozzo, I want you to head over to the base hospital.

I want this dirtbag's personal effects and his prints.

Yeah. You enjoying that coffee, McGee?

Yeah? It's not too hot?

It's your coffee. I'm sorry, boss. I'll get you another one.

Thanks.

Yeah, maybe next time you should remember

Rule 23.

Is that the one about not marrying a woman who eats more than you do?

Never mess with a Marine's coffee if you want to live, Agent DiNozzo.

That's right.

Dead man walking.

Let me guess. You take it black, Agent Gibbs.

Marines always do.

What about you, Agent McGee? Cream and sugar?

You know what? I still have to take some photos outside.

So maybe later. But thank you.

Is he old enough to be an NCIS Agent?

I ask myself that every day.

Thanks. Oh, sorry. This place is such a mess.

I wasn't expecting any company.

Am I in trouble, Agent Gibbs?

You did what you had to do, Mrs. Rowens.

Please call me Laura.

I just have a few questions I need to ask you, Laura.

Is he gonna die? Maybe.

I just wanted him to go away. I didn't want to kill him.

Did you know him?

I never saw him before in my life.

Any idea how he got in?

I usually leave the back door unlocked when I'm downstairs.

My husband doesn't like me to smoke inside the house.

Is he the one who taught you how to shoot?

Yeah.

He's a smart guy.

How long have you two been married?

Civilian time? Four years.

Marine time is more like two.

He's been away a lot.

It must get lonely.

We don't have kids, so I...

don't really fit in with the wives on base.

I manage, I guess.

You have a place to stay tonight? My mom lives in Maryland.

Is it okay if I go there?

Just make sure we have her number.

You...

You think of anything,

you want to talk,

give me a call.

Or you could e-mail me. Night or day.

I hate hospitals.

Maybe we'll get lucky, and he's already dead.

Hi. I'm Special Agent Todd. Tony DiNozzo.

NCIS. This is Special Agent Todd.

I'd love to ask you a few questions, say over lunch, Lieutenant?

Kim. And this is my engagement ring, Agent DiNozzo.

I brought my lunch. How can I help you?

What can you tell us about the gunshot victim brought in last night?

I already told the MPs everything I know.

We're not MPs. What kind of shape is he in?

Stable for the moment. Well, we'll need to talk to him.

You'll have to come back tomorrow. He's in ICU.

He might be dead tomorrow, and we need answers now, Lieutenant.

He's not conscious, and he won't be until tomorrow, Agent Todd.

What about his personal effects? Right here.

We had to cut off most of his clothing.

We'll need to get his prints before we go.

That will also have to wait until... Tomorrow. Right.

Lieutenant, this man tried to rape someone...

We'll come back.

Agent Todd, make sure the MP guarding him doesn't screw up

the D.D.932A6 form the way he did last time.

If he does, it's your ass. We clear?

Crystal. Crystal what?

Sir. Better.

Now, get moving, I don't have all day.

Your MP's outside Room 107.

So wait. What were you saying before about not being married?

Or you're almost married, thinking about it, on a fence?

See, every road with access into Quantico

is blocked by armed gate guards.

There's Marines everywhere.

So why would a rapist choose a victim here?

Maybe he's got a death wish, Agent McGee.

There's easier ways to die. It doesn't make sense.

You about done here, sir? Yeah.

About, Sergeant. Just one thing.

How'd that dirtbag get on base?

I've been asking myself that same question, Agent Gibbs.

I want you and your Marines to check every car

within a five mile radius of Laura Rowens' house.

For what specifically?

To make sure their military decals are current,

they match up with the plates on the car.

You got it. Sorry.

Watch where you're throwing.

You threw it, you go get it.

Any cars don't check out, you call me, okay?

Hey man, throw it!

Woah. Woah.

Yeah.

Corporal O'Brien to Admitting.

Corporal O'Brien, please report to Admitting.

Dr. Allevny to Allergy and Immunology.

Dr. David Allevny, Allergy and Immunology.

It was a game.

Laura invited me over.

I thought she loved me.

According to our rapist, he was invited over by Laura Rowens.

Oh! What was that little tip that I picked up as a cop in Baltimore?

Right on the... Oh, yeah. Rapists are liars, Kate.

I don't think we should rule out anything, Tony.

Oh, really? Do you now, probie?

All we have is Mrs. Rowens' word for what happened last night.

So you want to drag her in here and accuse her of attempted murder, McGee?

No, I didn't say that. No, let's do it.

It's not like she hasn't been through enough crap already.

Well, you would know. You're the master at giving it.

Watch your lip, probie. Hey!

Your quivering lip! Hey!

My God, I swear the two of you are worse than my brothers,

and they're practically psychotic. We have to ID this guy.

If we find a connection between the two of them,

we bring Laura Rowens in for questioning.

Agreed? His name's Jeremy Davison.

Sgt Hegarty found his car parked outside the Quantico rear gate.

Keys, wallet, ID, all inside.

Run his phone records. See if he ever communicated with Mrs. Rowens.

I am on it.

McGee. Yeah, boss?

Get me a search warrant for that address.

On it.

Hey, Kate, your brothers are really like that?

Sadly, yes. Explains a lot.

Jeremy Davison has no criminal record, Gibbs.

He's a civilian, no ties to the military.

His prints don't match any open case files.

The boy doesn't even have a speeding ticket.

And we're talking cleaner than clean, whiter than white.

You put him in a line-up with snow, snow is going to jail.

Or it just means he's never been caught.

Or it just means he was never caught.

I want you to run the DNA from his blood.

Cross reference it with every database you can think of.

Well, considering there's no centralized DNA depository,

that could take months and months and months...

Then you'd better get started. You think he did it?

Kind of depends on your definition of "it".

Spoken like a true politician, Gibbs!

Still going through his phone records, boss.

Nothing so far to or from Quantico.

Home and office? And cell.

I've got the warrant to his apartment. It's in Alexandria.

Keys. I'll get the sedan.

No, you stay with the phone records.

McGee, I want everything there is on Davison by the time I get back.

Kate! Come on. You're with me. Let's go.

Clear.

Clear.

This is sort of how I always pictured Tony's place.

Yeah, except DiNozzo has better furniture.

All right, let's find out who this guy really is.

You might want to come take a look at this, Gibbs.

She had to have sent him that. Yeah. How do you figure that?

Well, let's just say if theoretically I had a picture like this,

I wouldn't be handing them out on a street corner.

Yeah, well, okay, since we're being theoretical,

what about if the guy happens to work in a photo shop?

Here's an e-mail from Laura Rowens to Davison.

"The thought of us possibly meeting, NiceGuy,

"is both exhilarating and terrifying.

"On one hand I can imagine you throwing me down..."

Whoa! Whoa what?

Whoa. It's pretty specific.

Gibbs? Yeah.

By specific, I mean explicit.

In the truest, most pornographic sense of the word.

Yeah, I'd say that's specific, Kate.

Bag it.

Jeremy? He's not here.

Who the hell are you? Special Agent Gibbs and Todd.

NCIS. NCI what?

We're Federal agents executing a search warrant.

Who are you? Michelle.

Michelle Davison. Jeremy's sister. Is he okay?

Your brother was shot last night breaking into a home on a Marine base.

He's in critical condition. Oh, my God!

I knew it. I knew something like this was gonna happen.

Something like what?

He went on a date last night with some girl he met on the Internet.

Oh, is it my birthday? Yeah.

You see a bow on top?

We think Laura Rowens was having an online affair with Jeremy Davison.

Really? I could have told her

Internet romances never work out.

They all end in an attempted murder, Abby?

Only the really hot ones, Tony.

I want proof it's true before I drag Mrs. Rowens in here.

Is this Davison's computer? Yep.

Well, if I'm going to find something conclusive, Gibbs

I'm gonna have to have the lady's as well.

McGee's on the way with it. Then we're in business.

When do you need it by? Now.

Wow, Laura Rowens wrote these?

Allegedly. Okay, Abby,

I'll, of course, need copies of all of them, all right?

What?

Hey, McGee.

Ready to plunge into the seedy side of the Internet with me?

I thought we agreed never to discuss that at work.

McGee, I'm talking about the case. Right, the case.

Okay, we'll leave the two of you alone. But Gibbs won't. So I'd get busy.

DiNozzo! I'm investigating here.

These letters speak to the suspect's state of mind.

I've read them, and they're all pretty much the same.

Well, I've only read two, and if you think they're all the same,

then we definitely need to talk, Kate.

Well, 12 years of Catholic school says that ain't ever gonna happen.

Do you still have the pleated skirt?

Get that. Yeah.

So what's going on?

Gibbs just said to bring Laura Rowens' computer. He didn't say why.

We've got a cybersex attempted murder kill thing going on, McGee.

Really?

Cool, huh? Yeah.

Come on.

Let's say Laura did invite Davison back to her house.

Thank you.

What would she gain from shooting him?

Maybe he was blackmailing her.

DiNozzo, he was lying on the floor with two bullets in him.

She could have finished him off. Instead she dialed 911.

She get cold feet? Or Davison

decided to surprise her. Take it to the next step from fantasy to reality.

Well, if they only communicated online,

there's a possibility that she didn't even know what he looked like.

So you're saying the whole thing might have been an accident?

I don't believe in accidents.

Or Davison could be your garden-variety psycho.

He latched on to Laura, and he didn't want to let go.

We're missing something here. And I think we found it, boss.

Laura Rowens and Jeremy Davison were definitely in contact.

We traced her e-mail exchanges back to the day they met online.

Four months ago on a little website called the Scarlet Secret.

This is their homepage. I've got to get one of these.

DiNozzo. Talking about the plasma screen, Kate.

What is this? Well, you know Friendster?

Where people make web pages with personal profiles

to connect to their friends online.

And their friends lead to their friends and so on and so on.

Okay. You know what friends are, right?

Abby. Well, it's kind of like that,

only it's explicitly for sex.

Male/female preferences, fetishes. And you follow the chain of pages,

it should lead to somewhat anonymous cybersex

or a real face-to-face meeting, if you want.

You're a member? No.

No, she just created the page to look online.

I did a little trial and error with Laura Rowens' screen name,

HomeAlone325 and Jeremy Davison's NiceGuy653.

Care to guess which fetish they have in common, Kate?

No, no. I'm going to hell just listening to all of this.

Rape fantasies.

What kind of a woman is into rape fantasies?

Actually, it's not that uncommon, Kate.

Actually, it's sick and disturbing, McGee.

I dated a girl once who used to wear my police uniform

and make me call her Detective Sipowicz.

What the hell's wrong with you? It wasn't my idea.

Well, the police uniform part was, but...

So how long is Gibbs gonna make her sit there?

It's called brewing, probie.

She's scared, nervous, imagining the worst.

You've got to give it time to percolate.

What's going on, Agent Gibbs?

I thought you said I wasn't in any trouble.

What makes you think you're in trouble?

I'm in an interrogation room.

Did the man die?

You mean Jeremy Davison?

Is that his name? One of them.

He's still alive.

Though you might know him better

as NiceGuy653.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

No?

Where did you get that?

Off of Jeremy Davison's computer.

I... I don't understand. How?

You sent it to him.

No, I sent this to my husband in Iraq.

I told you, I never saw that man before in my life!

How could I send this to him?

You spend a lot of time on the Internet, Mrs. Rowens.

Why? What does that have to do with anything?

It's an observation. Not a question.

Oh, my God.

You think I wrote this?

Tell me about the Scarlet Secret website.

"Where discriminating adults go to play." Ring any bells?

It's not like that. You and Jeremy

decided to have a little cyber fling.

One of you decided to take it to the next level.

I want to know which one.

I never cheated on my husband. I wouldn't.

It was just supposed to be a game.

Does this feel like a game, Mrs. Rowens?

I...

fooled around a couple times online,

but I never gave anyone my name or my picture.

It was harmless! It was just a fantasy!

This is sounding like attempted murder!

I have to talk to Gibbs.

You're gonna have to wait 'cause

the last time I disturbed him in interrogation was the last time.

No, McGee, this is an emergency. We screwed up big time.

This is a copy of the email you sent Jeremy,

inviting him to your house Friday night.

I did not write that.

I never talked to anyone named Mr. NiceGuy.

Agent Gibbs, I swear to you! We have your computer!

You two were exchanging e-mails for months.

Agent Gibbs, we need a word with you.

What? Abby has something to tell you.

I was digging deeper into Laura Rowens' clusters,

mostly the slack space.

And the log file alignment, it was off. Not much, but enough.

So I imaged the sectors, and I found trace elements of very...

English!

She's telling the truth, Gibbs. She didn't write those emails.

Who did?

I don't know.

I'm sorry.

So she was set up?

It's more like Jeremy Davison was set up.

His computer wasn't tampered with.

He thought he was communicating with Mrs. Rowens the entire time.

And the reason for luring him onto a Marine base to rape a Marine wife?

Well, closest thing to a death sentence I can think of.

Abby's lab. Now.

No dice, Gibbs.

The hacker left no back trace on Laura Rowens' machine.

But we can tell when he created the e-mail trail.

The files overwritten on her computer

show that it happened right around the time she shot Jeremy Davison.

Like I said, this guy's good. The guy's a dirtbag, Abby. I want him.

Well, unfortunately, we can't find him from here.

We need access to the Scarlet Secret web servers.

And a warrant will take months. They have a rep for legally fighting

any attempt to breach the privacy of their members.

Can't we hack them? It won't work, Tony.

We need core-level access with full admin privileges to track this guy.

Which means we'd have to be on the inside to do it.

Find another way.

Abby, can you pull up the homepage for the Scarlet Secret?

Really?

I thought I saw something that we could use.

Okay, at the bottom here.

Can you click on employment opportunities?

We get a job there? Abby, click "Computer Programming".

"We're looking for a computer programmer

"with experience in network protocols, I.D.S.,

"firewalls, and ultra high speed network capabilities.

"Excellent communication skills, a professional attitude

"and the desire to be challenged every day is required.

"Bachelor's degree is preferred.

"Must be able to start immediately." Way to go, Kate.

Oh, finally I get to do some undercover work.

Yeah, that's not gonna work.

Probie's got cop written all over his face.

I, on the other hand...

He does have experience with cybersex.

Yeah, is that true, DiNozzo?

I think what Kate meant to say was that I met a very nice girl online once.

Yeah? What was her name? Her name's not that important.

Hotjuggs24, but I think she meant it as a metaphor.

Boss, Tony could never pass as a computer programmer.

So, McGee goes. No. Not McGee.

Well, you're certainly qualified, and from the look of things,

you'll fit right in around here.

So, what do you think, Ms. Gibbs?

I'd say, when can I start, Mr. Kane?

You can call me Devon. Right, Devon.

What am I wearing? How do you like fishnets, baby?

You can start today. I have a question for you, though.

Have you thought about modeling yourself?

Oh, I prefer the computer programming side of the business, Devon.

Okay, well, should you change your mind

we do offer naked tech support to a very select clientele

and the pay's double.

That's very thoughtful. But I'll pass.

Okay, great. Well, here's your workstation.

And I think that's it. So welcome to Scarlet Secret.

Good work, Abby. Go. Get Jeremy Davison's statement.

I want the name of anybody he's had an altercation with in the past five years.

You got it. You got it.

I'm in, Gibbs. Is McGee there?

Here, Abs. Hi, McGee.

Hey. Okay, open port 618 on their firewall, and I'll join you.

Done and done.

Connected.

How long is this gonna take?

There's a number of different variables. Code complexity,

accuracy of the logs, the software... You've got one hour.

Or one hour.

So if it wasn't Laura I was talking to, who was it?

Well, that's what we're trying to find out, Mr. Davison.

No, I don't believe it.

We talked about everything, and it wasn't just about sex.

She loved me. It can't be.

At this point, we're not even sure if she is a she.

We exchanged hundreds of emails. Why would someone do that?

You tell us.

Anyone holding a grudge against you, Mr. Davison?

Anyone who might know their way around a computer?

No, I don't socialize much offline.

I kind of stutter when I'm nervous.

What about online? I said no.

Maybe she didn't recognize me.

Maybe it was just a mistake. If I talk to her, we...

She's never even heard of you, Jeremy.

Whoever you were talking to, it wasn't Laura Rowens.

So none of it was real?

The whole thing was just some sick joke?

Jeremy. Oh, God. Are you okay?

Is this really necessary, Agent Todd?

Not anymore.

If you remember anything, Jeremy,

anything that you think might help us, please call me.

It's gonna be all right now, okay?

It's gonna be all right.

I got him. It's custom code.

It matches the stuff on Laura's computer.

He's got hooks all over the system. I'm on it.

Okay, he's using a router out of Fairfax.

Tracing it back now.

Interesting.

He left his name in an encrypted file.

Zed Death Six. The guy's arrogant.

He likes to sign his work.

What? I talk to myself. You got a problem with that?

Got him!

Name's Victor Grotinski.

He's in Woodbridge, Virginia, off Davis Ford Road.

Fifteen miles from Quantico.

That's a good job, McGee. You get Abby back here.

Coffee's for you. DiNozzo!

Yeah, boss. Meet me at this address.

NCIS Federal agents! We have a warrant for your arrest.

Hands in the air! Now!

That's... That is just nasty.

Oh, my God.

You see anything interesting, Duck?

Well, they say the eyes are the window to the soul.

Yeah? They say anything about when he died?

Perhaps. Have you found them yet?

Nope. They took the optic nerve.

Time of death,

about 18 hours ago.

What do you think this is? He was slaving old systems together.

He was jury-rigging his own super computer.

I'm talking about this. Some kind of solvent?

I don't think so.

Well, I wouldn't do that if I were you. You know what this is?

Hey! Hi, guys.

No, I don't. But considering there's no bathroom in this apartment...

Probie, bag that.

And why don't you check out those suspicious-looking containers

while you're at it?

Oh, I think I'll throw up now.

DiNozzo, find out what this operates. You got it.

Kate, what do you think about Oedipus here?

Well, there's no obvious defensive wounds.

Knew his attacker. Or he was surprised.

Why take his eyes? Some kind of a message.

Or a warning, Kate. Several South American tribes

were known to ritualistically pluck the eyes of their enemies

to discourage them being followed.

Of course, they were cannibals so they did...

You know, I don't think we're dealing with cannibals here, Duck.

No, I should think not. Well, not this far north.

Kate, could you come here for a second?

I need your help with something.

I had to wear a skirt today.

Did you say something?

You know, you realize what would happen if I dropped this knife, Tony?

Yup, I'm still deciding whether it's worth it or not.

Now, why would somebody hide a camcorder in a vent?

You're kidding, right?

You know, when this is over, we really need to talk, Kate.

You scare me.

Well, he certainly isn't gonna win any awards for cinematography,

and it didn't help that he was shooting in almost no light.

Okay, here's where it gets interesting.

She's a black widow.

She killed him right after that special moment.

Any close-ups of her face? One glimpse, but I mean it's a glimpse.

But it's digital, so I might be able to pull out more information.

I'll do my best to pull out more information.

I will pull out more information.

Hey, McGee. Yeah?

I need to know who hired Grotinski

to create the email trail between Rowens and Davison.

Well, there's about 150 gigabytes of data on several hard drives.

Only 150?

Hell, that shouldn't take much time at all.

He has no idea what a gigabyte is, does he, Abby?

I don't think he knows what a hard drive is, McGee.

I mean, the policy they have at that beach isn't strictly nudist.

It's more of like, it's optional. Yeah.

You changed.

We're dealing with a sociopath here, Tony.

Yeah, the missing eye part would be the dead giveaway, Kate.

Who likes to manipulate people.

But the question is, why Jeremy Davison and Laura Rowens?

Two lonely people pouring their hearts out into cyberspace?

Instead they find a psycho lurking on the Scarlet Secret website.

Works for me. Not me.

We're being played. By who, Gibbs?

Kate, Grotinski was murdered by the woman on the tape.

She hired him? I don't know yet.

We should bring Laura Rowens back for questioning.

Yeah, Gibbs. On our way.

Let's go! Ducky's got something.

To Abby please, Mr. Palmer.

Sure thing, Doctor. What is it exactly?

Our young man was killed during coitus.

That may be our black widow's DNA.

You know, the Romans considered dying during the act of love

to be a great honor, Mr. Grotinski. Yeah?

What would they think about videotaping it?

From some of the murals I've seen in Pompeii, I think they'd rather enjoy it.

That's an Italian thing, Ducky.

We're passionate people. It runs in our blood.

The only thing running through your blood, Tony, is cholesterol.

And possibly chlamydia. It's curable.

What have we got, Duck? Well, I sent some fluids up to Abby.

The DNA may be our killer's.

But what really interests me is the manner in which his throat was cut.

The knife was inserted into the side of the neck,

and then ripped forward, severing both the arteries and the windpipe.

Very professional. Yeah, and very familiar.

Yeah. Thanks, Duck.

You track down Laura Rowens. Tell her we need to talk.

Duck?

Oh, it's the technique Marines are taught to kill enemy sentries.

Her hubby taught her how to do a lot more than just shoot.

I'm picking up some highlights off the baseball cap.

No, that's not good enough. I need a face. How much longer, Abby?

Maybe an hour to filter. What about the fluid Ducky sent up?

I've isolated several female cells.

I'm sequencing the DNA now.

Like 10 hours.

You think that's Laura Rowens, boss?

Well, considering I've seen better pictures of a UFO, you tell me, McGee.

Check her home, if she's there, hold her, Sergeant.

I talked to Laura's mother, boss.

She claims she hasn't seen her since yesterday and she's not answering her cell.

She's not answering at home either. I have Sgt Hegarty heading over there.

You try the hospital?

No, but if she's at the eyeball-plucking stage?

She might take another shot at Jeremy.

We're going to Quantico. Let's roll.

ICU. Lieutenant Kim. Hi, it's Tony.

Tony, I was hoping you'd call. What's Jeremy Davison's condition?

Resting comfortably. What's up? All right. Anyone comes to visit him,

tell them he's been transferred to another hospital.

Is there a problem, Tony? No. No problem, Pam.

We'll be on base in about 15 minutes. Make that 10.

Are you gonna tell us what's up, Gibbs?

My gut.

Agent Todd.

Yeah. We've got a serious situation here, ma'am.

Hands in the air!

Now!

Sgt Hegarty has Laura Rowens in custody, Gibbs,

and he also found Grotinski's eyes in her kitchen.

She hired him to make it look like a third party set them both up?

Yeah. It's not a bad plan. It almost worked.

Almost.

Mrs. Rowens didn't seem like the murdering type to me.

The smart ones never do.

I thought you told Gibbs the DNA would take 10 hours.

I did.

This doesn't make any sense. I didn't even send it. Oh, my God!

You have 10 minutes, and make sure all your cell phones are off.

You'll be moved to a civilian hospital tomorrow, Mr. Davison.

Finally. Any idea why this woman fixated on my brother?

I was hoping he could tell me.

Jeremy?

She wasn't happy, but she wouldn't leave her husband.

I was going to tell him about us.

Well, you're lucky.

We have her on tape slashing another guy's throat.

You do?

The picture's damaged, but once our lab cleans it up...

We should be able to positively ID her.

She won't be bothering you again, Mr. Davison.

I loved her.

Let's go.

Come on. Answer! Answer! Answer! Pick up, damn it. Pick up!

If they're at the hospital, they probably have their phones turned off, Abby.

We're about to let a murderer go free!

We have to get going, baby.

ICU, I need to speak to Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs now!

It's a matter of life and death!

Those first two Navy cops were dumb, but their boss wasn't.

Did you see the way he was looking at me?

Hey! That sound harsh to you, Kate? Very.

Go for it, honey.

My first round's going through your right eye socket, lady.

Yeah, Gibbs. Don't you pick up your phone anymore?

The DNA we ran on Jeremy Davison two days ago

matches five open investigations. He's a serial rapist and murderer.

We know. And the woman that he's with

is his accomplice, it's not... You know?

Got it covered, Abby.

They know.

Did you know? No.

If I find out that you knew, I will kill you.

I can't believe we almost let those two walk.

And Davison isn't even their real names.

Grotinski created those identities for them.

Yeah, it's amazing what you can do with computers these days, Kate.

Sure is, Tony.

Hey, I've got a little something you might be interested in.

Who's this supposed to be?

I tracked down your cyber babe for you. Hotjuggs24.

Yeah, she's a real keeper, DiNozzo.

I wonder if he wears a sports bra?

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