All language subtitles for NCIS.S17E12.HDTV.x264-SVA.HI

AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER:
287 Mother,

position and hold on deck.

PILOT:
287, position and hold.

(indistinct radio chatter)

302 Mother,
come around to heading 080.

302 Mother.

302, please ident.

Sir, we may have
something brewing.

Who is it?

Weeks. On a post-maintenance
check flight.

She's gone wandering.

What is she doing
way out there?

Don't know, sir.
She's nonresponsive.

OFFICER:
302 Mother.

Weeks, are you there?

305 Mother,

we have a situation here.

Need you to vector to 230

and check on Weeks.

PILOT:
Negative.

I don't have the fuel
to get out there and back.

Garcia, what's her heading?

Bearing 260. Speed,

700 knots.
Altitude,

18,000 and descending.

Descending?

OFFICER:
Weeks, Mother.

Switch to guard freq

and squawk if you hear me.

MAN (on P.A.): Flight deck in starboard.
(alarm blaring)

Rescue and assistance teams
to the ready room.

Flight deck,
prepare the starboard.

Rescue and assistance teams
to the ready room.

Commander, we may have
an unconscious pilot up there.

Heading?
East-southeast.

Altitude 8,000
and dropping.

She'll hit the mainland
in 90 seconds.

Weeks? Commander May.

Need you to wake up, Lieutenant.

Sir, if she's hypoxic,

we should implement
the White Knife protocol.

We're not shooting down
my pilot.

Sir, we need to...
Give it a minute.

Weeks, talk to me.

Sir, she will be over
a population center

in 40 seconds.

MAY: Weeks, talk to me.
COMPUTER: Pull up.

Pull up.
WEEKS: I'm sorry.

MAY: Rebecca!
Pull up. Pull up.

Weeks, you there?
Say again.

Sir.

We've lost radar contact.

Aircraft impacted the ocean.

She bail out?
She eject?

No, sir.

♪ NCIS 17x12 ♪
Flight Plan
Original Air Date on January 14, 2020

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

♪ ♪

So the guy honks, and
it's not even my fault,

but the ambulance-- he didn't
even have his lights on.

Hmm. Yeah.
Yeah?

That's it? That's all
you're gonna give me?

That's a funny story, Tim.

All you give me is "yeah"?

You've said two words
this morning.

Yeah, sorry, I got...
I got a lot on my mind.

Hey, listen, I'm here
if you want to talk.

I appreciate that,
but, uh,

I don't really want
to get into it, you know.

Besides, Bishop is,
like, right there, so...

(whispering):
What did she do?

She didn't do anything.

I'm getting a vasectomy.

Oh. Oh, oh.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

No, don't be sorry.
It's a good thing.

Getting surgery is
a good thing?

Getting surgery down there...

I know where
they do it, Nick.

And you still said yes?
Yes.

Yeah, you know,
Delilah and I decided

one set of twins is enough.

I mean, we-we had
a scare last month, so...

Why can't she do it?

I would never ask her
to do something like that.

So she said no, huh?

Decisively.

Damn. But what if they...

...like, snip on the wrong wire?

It's not a bomb, Nick.

Besides, there's
no knives involved.

I chose the "no scalpel" option.

How are they gonna cut
anything without a knife?

I'm not sure.

Science?

Bishop, grab your go bag.

F-18 went down
in the Atlantic.

Helo's waiting.

Uh, where to?

The Franklin Roosevelt.

You two stay here, dig up
all you can on the pilot.

Sir.

Lieutenant Rebecca Weeks.

MAY: Lieutenant Weeks was
the best I had.

Brilliant pilot,
highly decorated,

on a routine training mission
on a perfect day for flying.

She wasn't able to eject?
No, ma'am.

Any idea why?

She had to be suffering
from hypoxia.

Lack of oxygen?

That's the only explanation
that makes sense.

The onboard oxygen
generating system malfunctions,

things can go south fast.

She make a distress call?

No, sir, but hypoxia
can make a pilot become

disoriented, confused
or unconscious.

We understand that
she said "I'm sorry"

before the accident,

so she wasn't unconscious then.
Correct.

Any other idea why
she might have apologized?

I know what you're thinking,
and I'll stop you right there.

She was not the type of person
to commit suicide.

I didn't know suicide
had a type.

We'll need the cockpit
recording, Commander,

and the telemetry.

You got it.

Listen, Lieutenant Weeks
was not just my pilot,

she was a family friend.

Anything you need,
just ask.

Lieutenant Logan
is Weeks' bunkmate.

She'll take you
the rest of the way.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Commander.

Follow me, please.

We're sorry about
what happened.

Thank you, ma'am.

You have not been
in your quarters

since the accident, Lieutenant?

No, sir. Orders were to wait
until you arrived.

(screams)

MAY: Weeks, talk to me.
COMPUTER: Pull up. Pull up.

WEEKS:
I'm sorry.

MAY: Rebecca.
Pull up. Pull...

That's it?

That's it.

14 seconds later,
the F-18 hit the ocean.

Have they found
the wreckage yet?

Still looking.

VANCE: What are you sorry about,
Lieutenant?

Maybe the dead guy in her bunk?
Right.

What do we know
about the victim?

Well, Petty Officer First Class

Fisher Patrick.
21 years old,

ship quartermaster.

Jimmy choppered him back
to NCIS this morning.

Torres is talking
to his mother now.

Any connection between
him and Lieutenant Weeks?

Well, their duties
didn't overlap,

so they wouldn't have
crossed paths,

but they lived on
the same ship, so it's possible

they knew each other.
Oh, they knew each other.

They were dating.

His mom said they kept
their relationship a secret.

Ah, because officers dating
enlisted is prohibited.

So are we talking
murder-suicide?

Or suicide-suicide.
(phone dings)

Let's see what Palmer
has to say.

He's done with the autopsy.
Okay.

JIMMY:
I know, but

swollen glands are
completely normal.

I tell you what,
just pump her full of fluids

and if she spikes above 103,
just give me a call.

Yeah, love you.

Hey. Everything okay?
Yeah, Victoria's running a fever,

and Breena's stressing out.

She just wants to make sure
she's doing everything right.

You know?
Yeah, I get it.

Good thing she's got
a doctor on call, huh?

(both chuckle)

You guys ever-ever think about
giving her a younger sibling?

You know, it's funny
you mention that.

It's not like we're
advertising it or anything,

but I think we're gonna
try for one more

before I close up shop.

Good for you.
That's great.

Let me ask you, uh,
closing up shop--

is that as easy as,
uh, doctors say?

You're thinking of doing it.

Well, no, I'm not
just thinking about it,

I'm actually...
I'm actually doing it.

Had a conversation
with Torres earlier,

and it kind of
made me fidgety.

Oh, don't listen to Torres.
He probably read that clickbait

horror story online about the
guy with the weird complication.

What-what guy with
the weird complication?

I wouldn't look it up.

The point is male sterilization
is simple, and it is safe.

I mean, you probably won't even
miss a full day of work, Tim.

Oh, that's great. Great.
Thank you, Jimmy.

Mm.

Um, when they say...
they say no scalpel,

they mean no scalpel, right?

Oh, right. Yeah, yeah.

The doctors use
a clamp and a needle

It's actually really neat.

I can show you...
No, I'm good, I'm good.

I'm good.

No demonstration needed.
Thank you, though.

Let's, uh, let's-let's talk
about this guy for a minute.

Gladly, yes. Uh,

Petty Officer Patrick

died of a cardiac arrest

caused by a massive amount
of oxycodone.

How massive?

He had over 300 milligrams
in his system.

That's a lot of pills.

Yeah, that is way more
than a recreational dose.

So what do you think,
suicide or homicide?

See, that he is not
telling me.

But if I had to
venture a guess,

I would lean towards homicide.

Why is that?
His stomach contents.

He had bacon, eggs,

avocado, potatoes
and cantaloupe.

Well, maybe he just
wanted one last meal.

Yeah, maybe, but...

I've seen my share
of poison suicides down here,

and they rarely eat beforehand.

Interferes with the poison.

(indistinct announcement
over P.A.)

"Take one tablet every
four to six hours

as needed for the pain."

Well, we know where
he got the oxy from.

His girlfriend.

Those pills beige?

Yeah.
How'd you know that?

Well, this was in her lockbox.

Is that oxy in powder form?

Same color powder on this.

Makeshift pill crusher.
(knocking)

Uh, yeah, come on in.

Excuse me.
You wanted to see me?

Yeah, uh, Lieutenant,
we just, uh...

we have a few questions
to ask you about your bunkmate.

Uh,

I don't want
to say anything bad.

What does that mean?

I'm gonna go see the commander.
Okay.

You two chat.

Listen, Harper,

we're just trying to figure out
what happened here.

We already know that Weeks

and Petty Officer Patrick
were dating.

I would help her

sneak him in some nights.

He's not allowed on O-1.

Any problems
in their relationship?

I didn't think so,

not until they
broke up last week.

Who ended it?

He dumped her. Told her
she was too old for him.

Oh, wow. Classy.

She was...

pretty pissed off.

Pissed off enough to kill him?

Wait, Fisher was murdered?

It's looking like that, yeah.

What? Lieutenant,

if you know something,
now is the time to say it.

It's just, she told me

that he was going to be

very sorry for dumping her.

They're en route to the crash
site. Awaiting your orders.

Okay, expand the search grid
three miles northeast.

Yes, sir.

Any luck finding
the wreckage?

Yes.

Parts of a wing.

We've been combing
the ocean all day

and the biggest piece we found
is 18 inches long.

That aircraft was obliterated.

Sorry.

You know,
in the back of my mind,

I was holding out hope
that somehow

Weeks survived the crash,

but finding pieces that small...

How's your investigation
going topside?

Coming along.

The hell was he doing
in Weeks' bunk?

You didn't know
they were a couple?

No.

Why was Weeks prescribed
oxycodone last month?

She took a hard landing.

Harness jammed
her shoulder real good.

Did the petty officer
OD on oxy?

Could he have drugged Weeks
before her flight?

That could explain the crash.

Or it was the other way
around-- she drugged him.

If you're implying
Lieutenant Weeks

killed that sailor,
you're way off-base.

I won't let you disparage
her good name, not in this room,

and not on this ship.

I have work to do.

What's up?
Nick, look at this.

When a pilot ejects,

they experience
the greatest g-forces

ever felt by a human.

Up to 22 times
the force of gravity.

It's like hitting
a brick wall of air.

Ejecting can
break bones,

it can injure spines,
it can damage lungs.

Yeah, it beats
the alternative, though.

Oh, exactly. Most pilots
survive ejection,

which is all that matters.

Hey, why are you
showing me this?

Lieutenant Weeks didn't eject.

Right. No, she absolutely
did not eject.

Except I think she did.

What? Why?
Okay.

In an F-18, when
a pilot ejects,

an electronic locator
starts transmitting,

so rescuers can find them.

No, the Navy said
that didn't happen.

It didn't because according
to the telemetry,

she disengaged that transmitter
right before she crashed.

You're saying she did that
on purpose?

Absolutely. She would've had to
cut a wire under her seat.

Why would she do that?

I can only think of one reason

why she'd want to
eject below radar

without anyone knowing.

To fake her own death.

Yo.
That water is ice-cold.

Well, yeah, it's winter.

I don't know, man.

It's a long way
for someone to swim

in freezing water.

Well, she wouldn't
have had to swim.

Ejection kits come
included with, uh,

one-man inflatable rafts,

and SR-2 survival vests.

Wow. The Navy
thinks of everything.

Yup.

Hey, man, I just
wanted to say, uh,

I'm sorry about making such
a big deal about your surgery.

I'm sure it's
gonna be fine.

Appreciate that.

I just think it's weird, man.
I'm just thinking about somebody

messing around down
there, you know?

Remember that
movie, um...

Edward Scissorhands?

Why would you put that image
in my head?

I'm just saying that's the image
in my head.

Well, now it's
in my head, okay?

What's in your head?

Oh, great. (chuckles)
You guys made it.

Yeah. Ship was in Norfolk,
we drove straight here.

Talk to me, McGee.

Well, Navy pinpoints
the crash site at about

4.2 miles southeast
of here.

Kasie and I took a look
at the tide charts,

guesstimate the
lieutenant came ashore

right around this
stretch of the beach.

Assuming she survived
the ejection.

She survived.

Something was dragged
through here.

Yeah, here's the flight suit.

Oh, still damp.

Here's a survival vest,

flares,
smoke signals, unused.

She didn't want
to attract attention.

Yeah, which is why
she buried everything.

Not everything.

Supposed to be a Glock
in that vest.

All right, now she's got a gun.

Uh, I've got a map
of the area--

closest town is four miles away.

Likely on foot.
Where's the nearest structure?

Stand by.

Okay, so there's
a bait and tackle shop

half a mile
up the road.

Hey, Nick, you're with me.

McGee, Bishop,
check out the area.

You got it, boss.

Well, I don't see any
security cameras anywhere.

What?

You okay?
Well, yeah. Why?

I heard you and Torres

whispering about surgery.

Oh, geez. No.

It's-it-it-it's so not
a big deal. It's nothing.

I appreciate
your concern, Bishop,

okay? But...
No buts, okay?

You can't tell Torres and
not me. I've known you longer.

You're right.

I'm getting a procedure
done, okay?

An elective operation...

...to rectify a situation

with, um...

I'm gonna go look over there
for a second.

Oh...

Oh.

Hey, McGee.

MAN:
Yep. She was here, all right.

You talk to her, Mr. Douglas?

Ah, you call me Bobby Dale.
Uh, yeah, we spoke.

Um, nice young lady.

She... little
bit strange.

Strange how?
Poor thing was cold and wet.

Said she went swimming
in the ocean, you believe that?

This time of year.

She come alone?

(clears throat)
Yep. Alone

and on foot.
Told you, strange.

I didn't know she was
military, otherwise

I'd have given
her a discount.

What'd she buy?

Oh, she bought herself a jacket,

of course, and then,
um, some snacks,

a local map, uh, couple other
things. Tell me, what'd she do

to get herself
caught up in NCIS?

That one.

What else she buy?
Um, well, she bought herself

a Flathead
screwdriver,

copper wire, and
electrical tape.

Huh. Uh-oh.

What, "uh-oh"?

You happen to drive
a motorcycle?

Yeah, how the hell
did you know that?

I caused a lot of trouble with
those three things as a kid.

Oh, come on, man.

What'd we miss?

Weeks was here.

She hot-wired his motorcycle.

Checkpoints at five-mile
intervals on Highway 12.

All bridges from the Outer Banks
to the mainland shut down.

Yes, sir.
Your fugitive is a murder suspect,

armed with a Glock

and riding a red
Honda SR-400 motorcycle.

Her name is Lieutenant
Rebecca Weeks.

Got it.
Sir? Secretary Leo.

I'll be with her in a moment.

She's trapped
on an island, Colonel.

I expect North Carolina
Highway Patrol

to make sure she stays there.

We'll find her.

Madam Undersecretary,
thank you for waiting.

Director.
I thought this pilot was dead.

That's exactly what she
wanted us to think, ma'am.

Turns out she ejected
before the plane crashed.

Which means she used a
$60 million government warplane

as her personal getaway vehicle.

It appears so.

Is this connected in any way
to the murdered petty officer

from the ship?

She's our number-one
suspect, ma'am.

Well, it's one big damn mess.

And we'll clean it up, ma'am.
Our people are closing in.

I should have her
in custody very soon.

Call me the minute you do.
Will do.

I like your
confidence, Leon.

Fake it till you make it, Jack.
What do you got?

The lieutenant's file. I think
I know where she's going next.

Bring it.

She needs an ally, right?
Someone she can trust.

But she's from Tennessee,

and she's trapped in the
Outer Banks of North Carolina.

Right,

but when she applied
for officer candidate school,

she submitted a letter
of character from her godfather,

a former Navy pilot himself.
And guess where he lives.

The Outer Banks of
North Carolina. I'll call Gibbs.

I already did.

Well done, Jack.

Can I help you folks?
Where is she?

Well, good afternoon
to you, too.

Not really.

Maybe we should start
with introductions.

My name is Jack...

Navy Lieutenant Commander
Jack Briggs,

retired.

Special Agent Bishop,
this is Gibbs, McGee,

and that is Torres.

We have reason to believe
that your goddaughter,

Lieutenant Rebecca Weeks,
is on your property.

My, oh, my, you seem to
have brought the whole posse.

Well, you can search
the house, Th...

there's fresh
lemonade in there.

You can help yourself
to it if you've a mind.

Commander Briggs.
Is she here or not?

She was here.
Now she's gone.

Where?

I didn't ask.
And she didn't say.

Well, she's not
gonna get far.

Every road off this island

is blocked.

TORRES:
Hey, Gibbs?

She's still here.

You're not gonna
catch her, you know.

She's way too smart.

Check the house.

You know lying to federal agents
is a crime?

Well, son, I'll tell you,
I don't give a hot damn.

She's innocent. She didn't
kill her boyfriend.

And if you want to arrest me...

then arrest me.

(chuckles)
Great.

I didn't have much else
to do today.

Put him in the car.

(engine starting)

Uh, what is that?

(engine humming) That is why Rebecca
came here today.

Stay with him.

Yes, Madam Secretary,
we thought

we had her surrounded.
Uh, she...

Have we found the plane yet?

Uh, not yet.
But, uh, she didn't exactly

leave a flight plan, so...

You have a nice day, too.

She didn't really say
"Have a nice day," did she?

So where's our pilot,
Agent McGee?

And please don't say
you don't know.

Well, what we do know
is the maximum range

of the aircraft, given a
full tank, is about 700 miles.

So we're talking anywhere
from east of the Mississippi

to where she grew up
in Tennessee?

Yeah. We've notified
the FAA, put a BOLO out

at all the private airfields,

so when the plane
lands, we will know.

And her godfather isn't talking?

Well, Gibbs and Bishop
decided to stay back

in North Carolina,
see what he has to say,

but so far he just keeps saying
she's innocent.

Oh, innocent people
don't steal motorcycles

and commandeer planes.

If she didn't
kill her boyfriend,

why is she running?

Yeah. All right,
is that it, Director?

No.

Please close the door.

Agent McGee, um,
have you...

Have you been discussing

your private
medical decisions at work?

W... Uh... once.

I brought it up.

It was actually more
like three times. Um...

counting now.
This-This is the fifth time.

Please don't bring it up again.

Understood. Sorry.

It's just, um...

(chuckling): No...
(mutters)

Agent McGee?

You're gonna be fine.

A little discomfort

for a few days, but then
you'll be back in the saddle.

Wait, you...

Mm-hmm.

Oh, my God, that is
such a relief to hear.

Wow, did-did you do

the, the non-scalpel method
or-or with the scalpel?

Both.
W... Y... Why'd you do it twice?

My boys went down swinging.

Oh, my. Wow, how'd you find out
it didn't work the first time?

When Jackie got pregnant
with our son.

Jared was an oops?
Yep.

Best mistake we ever made.

We found the plane.

Where?
In Tennessee?

Not even close.

Fairfield, North Carolina,

and she landed on a small
airstrip about an hour ago.

Any sign of the lieutenant?

A mechanic saw her land,

but by the time he saw our
BOLO, she was long gone.

All right, uh,
Fairfield--

we can be there
in about an hour.

I'll tell the mechanic
you're on your way.

So, she had a plane.

She could have flown anywhere.

Why a tiny town

30 miles away
from where she took off?

(phone rings)

Yeah, it's Gibbs.

Hello?

WEEKS:
Is this the agent

I saw at my godfather's house?

Weeks?

Yeah.

Thanks for not shooting me.

I probably would've missed.

How'd you get this number?

I called your office.
They transferred me.

I didn't kill Fisher.

GIBBS:
Uh, okay.

Tell me what happened.

I got a couple things
to do first.

In Fairfield?

You found the plane.

Well, you knew we would.

What are you doing in Fairfield?

Your job.

Yeah?
What job is that?

Weeks?

(sighs)
Hello. Weeks, you still here?

Nah, she ended the call
before we could trace it.

No, line's still open.
She never hung up.

She wants us to trace the call.

So I come back from dinner,
I find my front door

bashed open,

and my paperwork
all over the place.

She didn't find
the cashbox,

but she did find these keys
and took one.

And she walked out the door.

You want to see the
rest, uh, be my guest.

Here.

All right.
There she goes.

She gets into that car.
Puts it in reverse,

and backs right into
my tow truck.

Thanks very much, lady.

Then she puts
it in drive,

guns the engine,

and crashes right
through my front gate.

This kind of crap
is why I left New Jersey.

Who's car was that?

Some guy with
too many parking tickets.

I impounded it yesterday.

Okay, I don't get it.

She trades in her plane
for a car

that she breaks into
a junkyard to steal,

and then she leads us here?

Hey, I-I didn't
touch that phone,

if you're gonna dust for
fingerprints or something.

Oh, no, thank you.
We-we already know who it is.

You do?
Mm.

Oh, you guys are good.

Hey, tell her
to bring back that car.

It's not about the Subaru.

Rewind the video. Find out what
else she did while she was here.

What? Breaking and entering
is not enough for you two?

Right there.
Play it.

What's she doing?

She's taking

something from under the hood.

I can't make out
what it is.

Whose car is that?

I don't know.
She stole the paperwork.

Well, try
to remember.

That's a junker.

Brought it in last month.

Some driver wrapped it
around a tree. It's worthless.

Not worthless to her.

Hey. Are you guys
hearing me?

I really don't care
about that piece of junk.

What about the Subaru
that she drove off in?

And the hole
in my gate?

And what about the dent
in my tow truck?

Get that car
back to NCIS.

Find out what she took and why.

Gladly, all we need's
a tow truck.

You got to be
kidding me, right?

Kasie?

KASIE:
Under here.

You find out what the pilot...

Damn, what happened here?

This is what happens
to a junkyard car.

It's raided for parts.

But what part did Weeks
actually steal?

Exactly.

But... I have persevered,

and watched that surveillance
video 47 times,

and I think I figured it out.

She took the engine
control system.

All right, pretend I
don't know what that is.

Thought you were
a gearhead.

Classic cars only.
Ah.

Well, the ECS is the car's
onboard computer system.

It allows its
various electronics

to talk to each other.

All right, but why would
a killer break into a junkyard

to steal that?

I don't know. But I know why
she was interested in this car.

You ran the VIN number?

I did. The last owner
was a Navy commander

named Marshall May.

That's Weeks' CO.

The one and only.

Well, he got into a terrible wreck.
Uh, wasn't him.

He was deployed at the time
at the time of the accident.

His wife Jill was driving.

Is she okay?

No. She died.

McGEE: Oh, this is making
my head hurt. Okay.

Why is Weeks digging into
her CO's wife's death?

Well, when she called Gibbs

and said she was
doing our job,

maybe this is the job
she was talking about.

Job's already done, though.

We have a police report
in here that says

the car crash
was an accident.

Maybe Weeks doesn't agree.

What is she doing, conducting
her own investigation?

While she's already
on the run for murder?

Well, what's
to investigate?

"Driver lost control of
vehicle and sideswiped a tree,

killing her instantly."

It says it was
a one-car accident.

That thing that Weeks
took from the car.

The engine control system.
Yeah, wha-what

does that do, McGee?
Well, the ECS

is the brains of the vehicle.

It controls
everything electronic,

the air conditioning,
radio, power steering.

Power steering.

What about the brakes?

Sure. Why?

In the police report,
it says there was no skid marks.

What are you thinking,
the ECS failed?

Or someone made it fail.

The ECS is a computer,
and computers can be hacked.

So I saw
this thing

online last week
where two high school students

hacked their
principal's car

and drove it onto
the football field.

Maybe Weeks thinks the
commander's car got hacked.

She took the ECS to prove it.

Uh, uh, this
is all speculation.

And let's not forget
we're talking about a woman

who killed her boyfriend,

crashed a plane

and then faked her own death.

Let's go get her.

Got a hit on the Subaru

she stole from the junkyard.

Where's it at, boss?

Norfolk.
Pier 90.

Wha... That's where the
aircraft carrier's docked.

Why would a killer return
to the scene of the crime?

Maybe she's not done killing.

GIBBS:
McGee, notify the captain.

Warn him about Weeks.

CAPTAIN:
Agent Gibbs.

Captain.
Any sign of Lieutenant Weeks?

No. Thank you
for the warning,

but we don't believe
she boarded. This way.

TORRES: She could have boarded
before we called you.

Unlikely.
Her ID was tagged.

We would have been notified.

Well, we've discovered
she's quite resourceful.

Which is why
we locked down the ship.

All sailors are confined
to their quarters.

No one on or off.

Do you have that list
we requested?

Yes.
Everyone who swiped

their ID in the past 12 hours.

Thanks.
(knocking)

CAPTAIN:
Commander May.

He knows we want to talk to him?

I told him myself.

Commander May,
this is the captain.

Are you sure he was in here?

I just talked to him.
He was sitting right there,

working on his laptop.

Now they're both gone.

Hey, Gibbs, take a look at this.

So Petty Officer
Sandra Stevens

boarded right before the ship
was locked down.

I'm calling him.

She looks a lot like Weeks.
Which got me curious

enough to look her up.

According to Stevens' ESR, she's
on medical leave in San Diego.

McGEE:
Weeks posed as Stevens.

She's on board.

Call went straight
to voice mail.

We can find them. Officers can
search every compartment.

We don't have that kind of time.

His laptop-- can you trace it?

The ship's Wi-Fi was shut down.
We need 20 minutes to reboot.

I know another way.

But it'll take an
electromagnetic sensor

configured to look
for a Bluetooth signal.

Do it.
Yep.

WEEKS: Come on, Commander.
We're running out of time.

MAY:
Weeks, please.

Weeks.

Hi, Agent Gibbs.

Don't do it.

You're early.

I don't have his password yet.

Lieutenant.
I need you to drop your weapon.

Not until I have his password.

Here's the engine control
system.

It proves that his
wife's car was hacked.

Now all I need is his password
to prove that he did it.

How dare you say that?

Jill had an accident.

Then give me your damn password.

Get back.

Don't come any closer.

I am putting my weapon down,
Lieutenant.

Gibbs.

It's okay, McGee.

It is okay.

Got a predicament, Lieutenant.

You shoot me,

Agent McGee shoots you,

neither one of us are gonna know
what's on that laptop.

It's your choice.

MAY:
She's lost it.

She's a lunatic.
You saw her.

I thought you said she
was your best pilot.

And a family friend.

That was before she aimed
a gun at my head

and accused me of murder.

WEEKS:
Agent Gibbs,

did you check
the commander's laptop?

We're looking into it.

He killed his wife.

He took control of her car
and he crashed it.

MAY:
No. That's crazy.

Losing my wife
was the hardest thing

I've had to live through.

I did not kill her.

Your laptop did.

We tested it. You used it
to hack into your wife's car.

No.
Yes.

You disabled the brakes, you
took control of the steering

and drove her
into a tree.

Why would I ever do that?

They were having
marital problems. Big ones.

Jill told me
so herself.

We became friends
through the commander,

and last month at dinner,
she confided in me that...

he had been acting weird

toward her.

She said,

"If I wind up dead,
my husband did it."

And I thought she was joking.

Until she ended up dead.

Why didn't you contact NCIS?

And accuse my CO of murder?

He was on the ship
when she crashed.

I thought it was
just an eerie coincidence.

But then, the other night
on social media, I saw

a group of high school kids
hacked their principal's car.

I asked Fisher.

Could the commander
have done something like that?

He said he'd call NCIS.

TORRES: You found out that Petty
Officer Patrick was gonna

report you to NCIS.

So you had to kill him, too.

No.
I didn't kill anyone.

You knew Weeks was
prescribed oxycodone

and kept it in her lockbox.

And as CO,
you had the combination.

This is insane.

I never even met
the petty officer.

The first time I ever saw him
was dead in Weeks' bunk.

I found him in my bunk

and I freaked out.

I couldn't think,
I just...

I got in the cockpit
and I took off.

I was convinced that when
I landed back on the ship,

I'd be arrested or killed.

So you ditched the airplane.

At that point,
I couldn't call NCIS.

Not until I proved my theory.

So I found Jill's car,

I took her engine control
system, I tested it,

and it was hacked.

And the hack traced back
to the ship's IP address.

The commander.

I loved my wife.

Sure, we were having problems,
but I would never...

Oh, my God.

Something you want to share?

Oh... oh, my God.

Commander.

She used my computer.

And she knows Weeks'
lockbox combo.

Who is she?

Agent Bishop.

Am I interrupting?

Just work.
Come in.

Of course.

You're a weapons
systems officer.

You can work
from anywhere.

All you need is a laptop
and an Internet connection.

Yeah, I guess.
Oh,

don't be modest. I mean,
you program high tech avionics.

Compared to that, the engine
control system on cars

must be pretty easy
to hack into.

Silence is a good plan.

We'll let your love texts
do all the talking.

"I don't want to
share you anymore."

'When are you ending
it with her?"

You tried to cover your tracks

by using a self-destructing
messaging app,

but the commander saved a few.

You know, he kept promising
he was gonna leave her.

They never do.

But he loves me.

He wants me.

Not after he figured
out that you used

his laptop to hack
into his wife's car

and drive it into a tree.

Captain?

I did this so that
we could be together.

And you were,

until your bunkmate Weeks
got suspicious,

starting talking
to her boyfriend about it.

So you poisoned him
and you framed her.

Up here.

Boss, someone here to see you.

Lieutenant Weeks.

WEEKS:
Agent Gibbs.

I'm heading to my court-martial.

I wanted to say thank you

for offering to testify
on my behalf.

Hope it helps.

Anything helps explain why
I dumped a government warplane

into the ocean.

I don't think "I'm sorry"
is going to cut it.

All you can do is go in there
and tell the truth.

Thank you.
I will.

Hey, Weeks?

Thanks for not shooting me.

I probably would have missed.

10:00, McGee.
Don't you have someplace to be?

Boss, you know about that?

Hell, everybody
knows about that.

Well, then, I guess I better go.

If I could, uh,
just get my feet to move.

(chuckles)

What are you worried about?

Well, just...

I don't know.
What if something goes wrong?

No, Tim.

What are you worried about?

Come on, boss.
What are you, Sloane now?

(chuckles)

I just...

What if life
throws me a curveball?

You know?

I think you know more than
anyone what I'm talking about.

I just... I don't want
to make a decision

that I'm gonna regret
down the road.

You made a decision today.

Don't worry about tomorrow.

It's easier to get past
than you think.

Trust me.

Wait, boss, you're a member
of the cut club?

Oh, hell no.

I wish you luck, though.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man