Original subtitles

- I want you. - Prove it.

- Wait for me. I just need some time. - Then I'll wait

- as long as it takes. - Better be careful,

or people might start thinking we make a good team.

He said, "One down...

one to go,"

so I knew someone close to me was in trouble.

- Whose print is it? - He's in the system,

but his profile's locked up beyond my reach.

To figure out who that is, you're gonna need someone

with serious access.

If I'm half the leader Vance was...

I'll have done one hell of a job.

I know, I'm late.

But you know how tough it is to find a decent bottle of bourbon

- at this hour? - Tony.

You're the only guy I know who could live a hundred miles

from civilization and still manage to get shot.

So...

what have you been up to the last ten years?

Oh, come on. You first.

Oh. Went to Paris with Tali,

and then it took a hot minute, but Ziva found us,

and we are together now.

We got framed. Big heist.

Like, 122 million euros big.

Imagine Clark and Ellen Griswold,

European Vacation, except every seven minutes,

they're getting guns stuffed in their faces.

Obviously, we cleared our names,

and then someone had the bright idea

of putting me in charge of this whole kit and caboodle.

- You? - Alaska.

Huh.

What else?

I got a dog.

Well, glad you're not alone up there, Gibbs.

To Leon Vance.

Yeah.

Hell of a life.

When I got your message, I thought it was McGee

using AI to mess with my head.

I gave it ten-to-one odds you'd even show.

I knew you'd show.

You see the shooter?

There were two of them.

Naturally. It would take multiple men to not kill you.

- You got the print? - Yeah.

You got a bullet in you.

Jimmy should look you over.

- No one can know I'm here. - Right.

You're dead. I know.

- It's buried in red tape. - Well, good.

A challenge, at 2:00 a.m.

Nice to see you, too.

I almost came to see you, Duck.

Yeah.

I wonder what you'd think about that.

No, my dear boy,

this simply shouldn't have been your time.

I've only just met you,

and yet, you've got so much to tell me.

Fresh calluses. I'd surmise you pumped iron, perhaps.

Manicured nails.

Your appearance was of great importance to you.

Even your brows are perfectly plucked.

I know you're a Marine, but part of me wonders

if you're an aspiring model?

You certainly got the looks for it.

But how did you fall off this cliff?

That is the question.

I got one of them, too.

- The hell you doing here? - Agent Franks.

How lovely to see you this fine morning.

Tango and Friedman are at a conference this week,

so the Duck-man is filling in.

- Pretty great, huh? - You get a haircut?

Couple days ago.

You, uh, just now noticing?

- Looks good. - Hey, boss!

- You see Ducky's here? - Yeah, I'm standing

right next to him, Rando!

- Oh, okay. - What do we got?

Lance Corporal Marco Diaz, 22.

A beach walker found him early this morning, called it in.

Found a Marine logbook in the bushes back there.

Likely fell out of his pocket when he went over.

- Anything written in it? - Yeah,

but it was out in the marine layer all night.

The ink's blurred. You can't read a word.

What are we thinking? He got too close to the edge,

tumbled down?

I'm afraid it's far more sinister.

This is quite the wound.

Elongated, fracture lines are clean.

That didn't come from the fall.

No, Cecilia, he was struck.

And the murder weapon we're looking for

is something heavy, with a narrow striking surface.

Oh, my goodness.

Ma'am? Ma'am?

You're too close to the edge.

Uh, please back up the hill.

Oh, relax, Bernard.

I simply want to get a photo of Donald

at work with this beautiful background.

For Aunt Phillis, Donald.

- You know this lady? - Yes.

It is my mother Victoria Mallard.

The hell's she doing here? The hell you doing here?

Oh, I flew out with Donald for a little R & R.

We were at brunch when he was paged.

The hotel was in the opposite direction.

So, I said, "Well, why don't I just come along

and I'll stay out of the way?"

- Oh, is that what you think you're doing? - Well.

You are even pricklier than Donald let on, Michael.

He has told me a lot about all of you.

- This is amazing. - This is epic.

There's nothing epic about an old lady

trampling our crime scene!

Oh! Oh, my.

Bernard, would you be so kind

as to come and have a look at this?

- Yes. - Mother!

Back to the car, please!

Hey, boss?

I'm pretty sure Ducky's mom just found the murder weapon.

How's that for an old lady, Michael?

7:30, okay. Make sure I get the booth I like.

Yeah, the one with the picture of President Bush

wearing the cowboy hat on the wall.

Okay, thanks.

Gibbs and Randy are headed to talk to Diaz's platoon sergeant.

What about the tire iron?

Blood type's O negative, so is Diaz,

but the handle's been wiped clean of prints.

What was that little smile about?

I am taking FBI Swanson on a date Saturday.

Just made the res.

Look at you. Where you taking her?

Lone Star Steakhouse.

Place with the peanut shells on the floor?

That's the one.

What, y'all don't think she's worth it?

Following the Civil War,

American taverns were overrun, and peanuts

were the cheapest snack a barkeep could serve.

Incidentally, the discarded shells

on the floor helped to soak up the beer...

- You ready for us? - Right this way.

Left your mama at the hotel this time?

Actually, Vera's been so kind as to take her to lunch.

She met Mother last month when she flew to D.C.

to give a lecture on profiling, and the two of them hit it off.

- In fact... - The body, Duck.

Yes, of course. I called you here

because once I got the lance corporal undressed,

I found some suspicious markings.

- Look here. - What is that, branding?

Yes, some sort of square.

I've not seen anything like it.

But I'm afraid that's the least of his worries.

- Was he restrained? - I believe like so.

And there is more.

Look at all these lashings and burns on his abdomen.

Far too symmetrical to be from the fall.

- He was whipped. - Indeed, Michael. I believe

this poor young man was tortured.

Copy that, MJ. Thanks for the update.

PE-19 out.

Tortured?

Geez Louise.

Diaz's record's spotless.

No page 11s, no NJPs.

He was a model Marine.

How does this happen to a guy like that?

A perfect record just means

he wasn't caught for anything before.

True that.

Did you and Lala hook up?

Where did that come from?

I keep getting these, like,

strange little looks and moments between you guys.

Like the other day when you brought Lala's lunch to her

and she said, "Thank you, Gibbs."

- And that's strange? - Oh, outlandish.

She should've just been like, "Thanks,"

or, like, said nothing at all.

- It wasn't like her. - It was that cheesesteak

she loves.

She was probably just excited.

You remembered her order.

You never remember anyone's order.

- Randy, it's... - You can deny it all you want,

but I know something happened.

And my next move is to lean on Lala.

I don't want to do that, but I have no choice.

I'm just that nosy.

It's gonna get really awkward

and I'm gonna feel really bad,

but at the end of the day,

she won't lie to me.

Yeah, we kissed.

I knew it. I knew it.

I... but I don't know where it's going.

But you're hoping it goes somewhere?

Yeah, you're hoping.

Okay, so, now you know.

So, there is no need for you to go bother Lala

about any of this.

Randy?

I already asked her. She said no.

You Staff Sergeant Combs?

NCIS?

Nice whip.

- You coming, bud? - Oh, yep.

Did you leave the barracks anytime

between 8:00 p.m. and reveille?

No, sir. I was dead tired, racked out.

And Diaz never came back.

That's unacceptable, Marine. If your bunkmate

is unaccounted for, you have a duty to report it.

- Aye, Staff Sergeant. - Diaz disappear often?

At night? Yes, sir.

I have no idea why though.

I asked him and he told me it was better I don't know.

Did he have a girlfriend?

Not that I know of.

Heavy reading.

He was the smartest guy I ever met.

He knew it, too.

Was he close with his family?

Yes, sir. Very close.

We don't make much money, but, uh,

anything extra he made, he, uh, sent back to them.

Diaz's dad died when he was young.

He looked out for his mom and his little sisters.

What you got?

I don't know yet.

Here we go.

So much for not having much

to send back.

How much you think's in there?

Enough to get you tortured and killed.

137 G's.

- Mm-hmm. - Every time a stash

like this comes in,

I think about Belize,

its gorgeous beaches,

its even better extradition policy.

I'm just messing with you, kid.

You hear about Ducky's mother being in town?

Mm-hmm. Yeah, Victoria.

Uh, Lala said Vera took her out for lunch.

Yeah, well, if that was lunch, God help everyone at Daly's

when happy hour starts.

- What do you mean? - Well, I was having my burger over there

and I watched the mayhem unfold before me.

Even did a shot of Crown with them.

- Did you? - Vic is, uh,

some kind of woman.

Is she?

How's a Marine get this kind of cash?

Maybe he was dealing dope.

Says here he's never popped on a pee test.

Never get high on your own supply.

You ain't never heard that, Rando?

It's a golden rule, boss, but pretty unlikely with dealers.

Okay, then, maybe he stole it.

I called Oceanside PD, sheriff's department,

the FBI, there haven't been any robberies of that size reported.

Money could've been illegal from the start.

Hooligans don't report it when their stash gets boosted.

So, Diaz steals the money from some unsavory dudes.

They torture him, but he won't cough it up.

So, they kill him, toss him off a cliff.

Problem is, Dominguez, if he's dead,

he ain't leading them to their cash.

Maybe they accidentally killed him.

Yeah. As someone recently tortured,

I can vouch that these, uh, types of guys,

you know, the torturers,

aren't too careful with us torturees.

What's going on, boss? You got a hot date?

Actually, he does.

With Swanson.

Really?

Taking her to Lone Star Saturday.

I just saw her chatting with Mary Jo.

Said she was here for some

interagency meeting with Wheeler.

Right on time.

- I'm gonna go seal the deal. - Wait, wait!

You haven't asked her yet?

I saw you make the reservation.

What, you think she's gonna say no?

Go get her, tiger.

- No... - That little bow he does?

- I think it's endearing. - Y'all talking about Bloom?

- Mm-hmm. - Boy gives me the heebie-jeebies.

He'll grow on you.

Franks. Can I have a word?

Course.

Listen, I've been thinking.

I want to take you to dinner.

How's Friday?

I, uh...

got Gary Callahan Friday.

Okay.

Let me know when you're free.

What?

Ducky called from Forensics. They've got something.

What's that about?

You don't have Gary on Fridays.

Shut up, Mary Jo.

Let's go, Dominguez!

I'm just saying, if you wanted to go out with her,

why does it matter that she asked you out first?

How many times I got to tell you?

I ain't talking about this, Dominguez.

And just how many margaritas

- have you had, Mother? - Wrap it up, Doc.

No, I ain't waiting. You're the one

who called us, for God's sakes.

What do you mean, she's on the bar?

Look, no... Mother, Mother?

No, please, do not dance on the bar.

Mother? Hello?

My mother's just hung up on me.

I'm sure she's fine.

Woodrow, Philip and I have a rather riveting discovery

to share with you,

but I'm afraid I must see to this situation.

They're all yours, gentlemen.

May I? Thank you.

Ugh. Finally.

You guys.

We have such deliciously sordid news,

that we had a heated dispute over delivery rights.

Your victim Lance Corporal Diaz was a prostitute.

- Huh? - But he's a dude.

Yeah, well, uh, we're still waiting for the results

on an expanded tox screen, but allow us to blow your mind.

Phil, you're up.

First,

deep rust-colored smudges on the victim's chest and thighs.

You might think that's blood.

Au contraire, mon amour.

That's a deep shade of lipstick called "Blood Lust."

I've had lipstick all over me. That don't make me a prostitute.

Yeah, I'm with Franks on this one.

Tough crowd, but thankfully, there's more.

We found a fiber on the body.

Natural, long-staple cotton fiber.

The kind you'd find on luxurious linens,

the kind you'd find on the beds of luxurious

- super deluxe hotels. - Sleeping in fancy sheets

don't overwhelm the fact that he is a dude.

As we suspected.

Diaz had a high amount of papaverine in his system.

- Which is? - Uh, a medication

to induce erections.

Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

So, he needed a little bit of help reporting for duty.

That don't make him a working boy.

What about the restraint marks on his body?

The lashing, the branding? That's classic S&M stuff.

And we're not even finished. Uh, do I look finished?

You've never looked less finished.

The notebook you got on the beach.

We used UV fluorescence imaging to restore the writing.

"Shawna, $400.

"Missy, $500.

- Sa..." - I think that dude was a hooker.

It's like they just... it's like he figured it out.

It's... he's a genius.

Gail. What are you doing here already?

Oh, I came in early because I wanted

to catch up on some collating.

What's going on?

You were the duty agent last night?

Collating, huh?

What's with all the cars in the lot?

Oh, you know how that dead Marine

was a gigolo?

Franks and them were out all night

looking for anyone in the sex game who might've known him.

Fellas hit all the hotels, motels and bars.

And Lala went to a bunch of strip clubs

with her CI Bambi Rose.

She's passed out in the rec room.

Smells like cigs and cocoa butter in there.

- It's hot. - Careful, Jeremiah.

I think your shift

is over, JJ.

Hey.

How'd it go with Bambi?

We hit three strip clubs and two whorehouses.

No one knew Diaz.

What happened there?

Oh. Some guy got handsy with me and I punched him in his throat.

- Nice. - Tell me y'all

came up with something on our little callboy,

'cause my hotel canvasses came up with nothing.

- Same here. - All I got

is nightmares for a month and glitter I can't get off my face.

How many guys got punched in the throat?

Drumroll, please.

Da-da-da-da-da...

da-da-da-da-da...

da-da-da-da!

Driftline Hotel.

That's where Diaz was meeting his clients.

Were you in there this whole time?

Yeah, I was just eavesdropping,

waiting for my big moment to go, "Drumroll, please."

Uh, the manager saw Diaz there

the night he was killed but didn't see who he was with.

Security cameras?

All conveniently down.

Someone was getting bribed.

Exactamundo.

Manager seemed nervous, so...

I threw around a bunch of big words

like "pandering" and "obstruction."

He folded like a Kmart suit.

It's funny, it's like...

everyone's folding under my pressure lately.

Every month, one of the escorts

would pay the manager a thousand dollars.

Great. Now we got a list of names from Diaz's black book

and we know what hotel he was meeting them at.

Let's get the guest registry from the Driftline,

- see if any of those names match up. - I already got it.

But they got over 300 rooms and they're always full.

And Diaz's book only had his clients' first names.

Didn't say it was gonna be easy, Dominguez.

I'll get with Gail,

and get copies of the registry going.

Kowalski!

Ah, more hooker dough?

Yeah. You ever see a band like that?

Can't say that I have.

Wonder why the rest of them weren't wrapped like this.

Oh, stop making a fuss, Donald.

You were sleeping on Vera's floor, Mother.

You have osteoporosis.

Shh. Inside voices, please.

Damn, Vera. Rough night?

I think the word you're looking for is "epic."

By the time I got to Daly's,

they'd already moved on to another bar.

It's not a bar crawl

unless you actually do the crawl, darling.

Does anyone know where the loo is?

First door on your right, Vic.

Hello there, Dick.

I didn't even see you there.

- They hide me away. - With that face?

What an absolute shame.

I am sorry for making this

a family affair, Agent Franks.

I was just passing through to drop Vera off.

She left her car at Daly's on account of her being

- so trolleyed. - Ain't my concern.

Hey, your mother is a beast.

Truth be told, that's why I brought her out here.

She's a bit of a hedonist.

All the partying and the men in her wake,

it's all been too much.

I just needed to find some way to break the cycle.

Look, Doc, I'm sorry your mama's been getting around,

but I'm trying to concentrate.

Ooh, how fun. A Saint George ribbon.

- You seen one of them before? - Oh, but of course.

The orange and black patterning is the unmistakable symbol

of honor in Russia dating back to Catherine the Great.

Russia, huh?

Hey, what's our Russki CI's name?

Blockbuster boy?

- Vlad. - Y'all go pay him a visit.

Rando and I will get cracking on Diaz's client list.

I'm glad you know so much useless crap, Doc.

Your mom's a hedonist, huh?

Hey. Heads up.

Vera said Vlad's wife's been a problem lately.

Uh, I need to tell you something.

Randy got you to spill, didn't he?

- How do you know? - Because I know him

and I know you.

You're all so damn predictable.

How am I predictable?

Randy knew you'd tell him everything to keep him

from pestering me and then you told him everything.

How's that not predictable?

I-I am trying to protect you. Is that a bad thing?

I knew you'd say that.

What's up, man? Cool shades.

I am the Terminator.

I wouldn't mess with you.

Peter, go to back.

- Mom. - Now.

I'll be back.

I know my husband made agreement with you,

but you are to never speak to my son again. Understood?

Olia.

That's enough.

It's okay.

It's okay.

Come, follow me.

I'm sorry for my wife.

She did not want me to enter into this deal with you.

She thinks this place is not worth the risk.

Can you imagine? Look around.

We're in blue heaven. And I'll tell you secret.

The smell of real popcorn

makes people want to rent more movies.

- Genius, eh? - Mm. We got a dead Marine.

Found some cash wrapped in a Saint George ribbon.

Think he was involved in a Russian prostitution ring.

I have not heard about anything like this.

I think I just saw that look on your face.

What look?

We're gonna do this every time?

Yes, we are.

You see, you are Eddie Murphy

and he is Judge Reinhold in Beverly Hills Cop,

and you have to use your wit and charm to convince me.

Hey.

Okay, fine.

There is a lucrative male escort operation

run by Russian.

You know what it remind me of?

American Gigolo. You know.

Richard Gere?

- Vlad. - The guy running this.

What's his name?

Who said it was a guy?

Her name is Zlata Zhukov.

She operates her organization from a bar she owns

called The Black Bear.

Zlata is ruthless, cunning.

Do not let your guard down for a moment.

She is held accountable by no one.

Zlata?

NCIS. We need to talk.

About?

Lance Corporal Diaz.

Good-looking boy.

Not anymore.

- What happened? - He was murdered

two nights ago after he left the Driftline Hotel,

where he was working for you.

Who was he with?

We have enough to arrest you for sex trafficking,

so maybe you want to think about cooperating.

Arrest me?

This is America.

With your amazing legal system, I'll be out in no time.

- I have great lawyer. - Maybe.

But we'll storm this place with Feds.

And that won't be good for business.

I like your style.

You ever want to make more than poor cop salary, come see Zlata.

We make big bucks.

All right.

Feds it is.

Even if I give you the client's name,

she will not talk to cops.

She has money for good lawyer, too.

Then don't tell her I'm a cop.

Tell her I work for you.

You said it yourself, I look the part.

And if I do this, you will back off?

No.

But we'll go easier on you.

Okay.

We'll be in touch.

So, you're going full gigolo now, huh?

You really took that "predictable" thing to heart.

Yeah.

We're not rehashing the terms of the deal, Zlata.

You're getting off easy. You got three at this hour?

I'm a miracle worker.

Zlata, enough.

Agent Gibbs is meeting this Mona woman in a couple hours.

- What is going on? - Sorry, MJ, lots happening here.

You really need this much surveillance equipment

for one hotel room?

Better safe than sorry. Lala.

Hey, Lala. Didn't one of these bad boys scald your leg?

Okay, righty it is.

How frickin' exciting. Gibbs as a hooker, Gail.

He'd be expensive.

When you get in there, probie, remember,

no kissing above the neck.

- Hookers don't do that. - Hmm.

How would you know?

And you're gonna need a duress code.

Pretty sure I can handle a horny housewife.

Uh-uh.

There's a lot of graveyards filled with overconfident men.

That is right, Mary Jo.

Lance Corporal Diaz went in there thinking

he was just gonna get a little hanky-panky.

We all know how that wound up.

I'll ask her if she's cold.

That's the duress code.

Ocean-blue...

storm-gray...

and jet-black.

Yeah, I was gonna say black anyway.

The Man in Black, Johnny Cash!

- Let's go. - Microphone incoming.

And here is Le Rivière Noir.

The super-expensive cologne Junie gave me for my birthday.

Aka, sexual catnip.

Damn.

- That's strong. - You need strong, probie.

Your natural man scent reeks of cop.

Uh, the blue.

Blue is nice. But we got bigger problems.

This client you're seeing, Mona, she is hot for teacher.

Zlata says she has a kink for the sexy, know-it-all professor.

Must be why she set her up with Diaz.

His roommate said he was the smartest person he ever met.

Yeah, Gibbs is screwed.

What?

- I know stuff. - Okay.

Hit me, Professor.

Okay.

A two-by-four isn't really two inches by four inches.

After drying and planing,

it's actually a lot closer to one and a quarter...

Ease up, probie, you're giving me a chubby over here.

What if we give him an earwig?

We just got a prototype from HQ.

Real 007 stuff.

We could feed him lines. You know, the three of us

combined have to be as smart as Diaz, right?

I can't have you all in my ear.

He's right.

We need a singular voice.

You want me to Cyrano Jethro?

We don't want you to.

This-this whole idea is damn embarrassing.

- But we're in a situation, Doc. - I am a medical examiner,

not an agent or Gérard Depardieu.

At this point, it don't matter if you're a garbageman.

You are a know-it-all, and that's what we need.

A pursuit of knowledge hardly makes me a know-it-all.

And that is a rather unflattering term.

Although, it didn't start that way. It originated

with the learned character Mr. Know-All

in John Bunyan's 1682 book The Holy War...

Very well. How is this gonna work?

Okay, so, you'll be in a room with us, safe and sound,

- talking in Gibbs's ear. - In Gibbs's ear.

You just got to run your mouth like you always do.

You feed him the lines, you are the brains, he is the brawn.

Mother?

- Victoria. - We ain't got time for this, Doc.

You look amazing.

Ducky's in the rec room. I'll show you.

Oh, no, I don't want to bother him.

Mother, I thought you were getting a facial in the hotel.

- Is everything all right? - Mm-hmm.

There she is.

You look lovely, Vic.

Oh. Aren't you sweet?

Mother, what is this?

Oh, I asked Dick to dinner.

- You got to be kidding me. - Uh,

meant to come in and say something to you, Doc,

but you looked pretty tied up in there.

I figured Swanson was into some New Age women's lib crap.

There ain't nothing new about her.

- Hey. Easy. - It's fine, it's fine.

Michael is, um,

intimidated by mature women.

- I ain't intimidated. - I just miss

when pimps were men and hookers were women,

like God intended.

Perhaps the world

is simply evolving, Agent Franks.

But, Mother, I thought we agreed

you were going to have a relaxing night alone.

Oh, damn.

You went a little hard there, kid.

Franks said I smell like a cop.

What? Too much?

With a physique like that,

cologne is but an afterthought.

Don't worry, Doc,

I'll have her home at a reasonable hour.

- Okay? - Oh, what a shame.

You switched to blue.

Yeah.

All right. The guys should have the cameras ready,

so it's just about go time. Y'all ready?

- Yeah. - No, not really. - Perfect. Let's go!

- This way, please. - Wait.

There.

Jethro, do you copy?

Loud and clear.

- We see you, probie. - Looking good.

Yes, do let me know if I can adjust my speech

for clarity, Jethro.

I, uh, did a spot of theater at Cambridge,

so I have an American accent in my repertoire.

You look awesome, dude.

Just be you, Ducky.

How you feeling, Gibbs?

Like I'm born for this.

Incoming.

Mona.

You must be Alex.

Alexander.

Well, she's unexpected.

What? She's paying for sex.

I didn't think she'd come in looking like Jessica Rabbit.

Showtime, Ducky.

Here goes nothing.

Your gorgeous crimson locks

bring to mind Mary, Queen of Scots,

whose beauty inspired the devotion of countless men.

Your gorgeous crimson locks bring to mind

Mary, Queen of Scots.

Her beauty inspired the devotion of countless men.

Where were you educated?

Brown, Sorbonne, Cambridge.

What did you study?

Anatomy.

And the psychology of human sexuality.

Oh.

- Lucky me. - How about we make ourselves comfortable?

Are you aware the MC1R gene variant

responsible for red hair

also makes the carrier more sensitive to dental pain?

Little sexier, Ducky.

DNA in and of itself is sexy.

All right, I'll try.

Bigger words.

Excuse me?

Bigger words.

I have advanced proficiency

in reciprocal osculatory biomechanics.

And that means?

- He's a good kisser. - Nice.

Something wrong?

Why's he just sitting there?

It looks like we just lost signal on Gibbs's earwig.

Well, get it working, Rando. He ain't gonna last long

- on his own. - Yeah, I'm trying, boss, but it's a prototype.

I'm guessing they're still working out the kinks.

No.

I just...

I could give you five-syllable words all night.

But I would rather see if...

redheads are more sensitive in other places, too.

Look at that.

Maybe Gibbs doesn't need Doc in his ear after all.

I built the fire.

Jethro merely put the kettle on.

But first, I want to get to know what you like.

Tell me how your last lover failed.

I want to be better for you.

Oh, I don't want to talk about my lovers.

I want you to make me forget about them.

I want to know how I compare.

Oh, that's what turns you on?

What is with me and these jealous men?

What does she mean by "jealous men"?

Maybe Diaz caught feelings for her.

He wanted her all to himself.

I told Gibbs hookers don't do nothing above the neck.

He's gonna blow his cover.

Cover seems intact.

Oh.

Mona!

- What are you doing? - Huh?

Wait, you know this guy?

- I'm gonna kill you. - Who the hell's that guy?

Yep.

- You stay here. - Gladly.

- Chet. - "Out with the girls," huh?

Take it easy. Take it easy, okay?

Uh...

You cold by any chance?

It is cold!

It is very freakin' cold!

NCIS!

Hands on your head. Hands behind your back.

She's my wife!

Yeah. I am getting that.

I think we should call our lawyer.

Great, while you got him on the horn, can you tell him

you're being charged for Lance Corporal Diaz's murder?

- Who? - Marco is dead?

Yeah. And as far as we know,

you were the last person to see him alive.

- Or was it you? - I don't even know

- who we're talking about. - Talking about the guy

- she was banging, Chet. - There was another one?

I swear I had no idea anything happened to Marco.

Zlata said he was taking a break,

that she had this new guy Alexander she wanted me to meet.

Oh, that bitch set me up, didn't she?

How'd you know she'd be here?

I followed her.

- You done that before? - Oh, my God,

Marco said he was being followed.

He thought it was one of his client's

boyfriends or husbands.

Was it you?

- Did you kill him? - No, Mona, I didn't.

And I'm only gonna ask you this one time.

How many guys have you been banging?

- Where were you two nights ago? - I drove to Beverly Hills

to get her an anniversary gift.

The Chanel clutch.

Oh, pull it together, Chet.

Diaz say anything about the guys who were tailing him?

- Type of car? - No, but I told him

it was probably his girlfriend.

He didn't have a girlfriend.

Yeah, he did, and she's a freak.

He had all these S&M whip marks and burns she gave him.

I mean, he was into it, too.

He even got me to burn him with candle wax once.

- Oh, Lord. - Excuse me,

but I've been eavesdropping from the other room.

You banging this guy, too?

Diaz had the most curious

branding mark that I couldn't identify.

Did he mention what specifically

his girlfriend used to burn him?

Yeah, lots of things.

Uh, fire poker.

- No, it's not from that. - Curling iron.

- Nope. - Cigarette lighter

from her car, a frickin' glue gun...

Car lighter. That's it.

The size matches, and the faint lines are from the coils.

I didn't suspect it because of the square shape.

I ain't never seen a square one before.

Precisely.

Turns out, there's only 11 cars

registered in the county that have a square dashboard lighter,

and one of them is Staff Sergeant Combs's woodie wagon.

She and Diaz had been carrying on a secret affair for months.

But why did she do it?

Did that little freak find out that he was hooking?

She did, Victoria.

And she just admitted to everything.

Said she lost it,

and expressed her displeasure with a tire iron.

A tire iron that Mother found.

How was your date?

Donald, don't.

I know how you feel,

but I deserve some fun.

You're right.

- I'm right? - Yes.

I'm sorry, Mother.

I'm afraid since Father left, I've been acting like...

well, your father.

Ironically, it was Agent Franks's tirade

about the conventional roles

of men and women that helped me to see the error of my ways.

I realized if Father had been enjoying life as much as you,

I wouldn't have the same issues.

Mighty wise of you, Ducky.

Dick, I know you to be a good man.

I'll leave you two to enjoy your last day together.

Uh, does that mean you won't say anything

when I go to Aruba with Arthur next week?

I will say, "Bon voyage."

Thank you, Donald.

So...

who's this Arthur fella?

We all have roles we're expected to play.

Some of us are good with that.

Others, not so much.

Had another meeting with Cliff, huh?

Yep.

Listen, about the other day...

I was off-put by you asking me out.

You might find this surprising,

but I'm a bit of a traditionalist.

You don't say.

I'm free Saturday if you are.

Got this fancy little spot I like

called Lone Star Steakhouse.

I love Lone Star.

I'll even let you get the check.

Yeah, you will.

Great.

Pick you up at 8:00.

Wait, pick me up?

Franks liked his role,

but he liked Swanson even more.

Lala watched me play a guy

who knew exactly what a woman wanted.

You did good last night.

What, are you surprised?

Not that you did good.

Maybe...

how you did it.

You're not always so predictable.

You said you needed time.

I'm not gonna take that from you.

And now, she was seeing

maybe that wasn't just a role after all.

Another one in the books, eh, Jethro?

Won't forget that one anytime soon.

We make a good team.

Yeah. We really do.

When are you and your mom heading out?

First thing tomorrow.

But I'm actually rather excited about it.

We're going to make a meal of the trip home.

- We're taking a train. - Really?

The finest form of travel.

In fact, did I ever tell you I once had the privilege

of riding in the fastest steam locomotive of all time?

Most wonderfully named the Mallard.

I could go on and on about that beauty,

but only a know-it-all would do that.

You know, if you have time,

I would love to go to lunch and hear all about it.

I do have time, and would love some lunch.

- Mm. - Come this way.

For me, Ducky would go on to play the role

of the best friend a guy could ask for.

Oh, Jethro, do be careful.

That is a limited edition

Blue LNER Class A4 Mallard train.

1963.

I won a seat in a poker game,

sipped Negronis all the way to Edinburgh Waverley station.

Not bad.

Ah, I've been working on it.

I do miss the Duck-man.

Yeah.

I do, too.

About your prints.

Belong to a tracker who used to work for the CIA.

I doubt he's the shooter.

I think the shooter hired him

to find you in the middle of nowhere.

Sounds like this tracker and I should have a chat.

Yeah, about that second target.

Our system was hacked

a few weeks ago, and they accessed

all the personnel files from the '90s.

I seem to recall that you had a rule about coincidences?

I'm worried about you, Gibbs.

You've been out of the game for a while.

And what else was it? Oh, yeah, you've been shot.

I'm okay.

You can't do this alone.

Bravest people I've ever known...

are in this building.

And they're lucky to have you leading them, Tony.

I'm proud of you.

Take care, boss.