All language subtitles for Ncis.sydney.S01E01.REPACK.WEB-DL.WH.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

In its 10th year, Talisman Sabre

is the largest bilateral
training exercise

between our two nations

and the first since signing
the AUKUS agreement.

It's a public reminder of a friendship

that's spanned every major
conflict since World War I.

What was once the far side of the world

is now the most contested
patch of water on the planet,

prompting our two nations to
stand side by side once again...

... to ensure this vast swathe of ocean

remains peaceful and democratic
for generations to come.

It doesn't matter where you're
from or what flag you fly,

that is a peace worth fighting for.

Oi!

No nukes!

Go home, Yanks!

No nuke subs!

No nuke subs! No nuke subs!
No nuke subs!

- Synced and corrected by Firefly -
- www.MY-SUBS.com -

No nuke subs!
No nuke subs! No nuke subs!

Oh, wow. Watch your toes, big fella.

Good morning, 'Rosie'.

Oh, I'll be the judge of that, mate.

What's this? I thought all
protesters were kept off base.

- Where's McNamara?
- Did his ACL playing touch.

Blue here's with the AFP
Forensic Outreach Program,

so she's gonna tag along

for the next few weeks
till he's back on deck.

So what are we thinking?

Well, it's unclear at the moment,

but there's swelling
to the liver and the kidneys

and there's a broken rib or two.

What do you think's caused it?

First off, I thought it might
have been a car accident,

but look at this, huh?

- Defensive wounds?
- Uh, yeah.

But have a gander up here.

I thought...

- Are you right?
- Uh...

I thought that might have
been caused by a fight.

There's a subdural
hematoma or something.

I'll know more when I open him up.

No need. We'll take it from here.

Special Agent Michelle Mackey, NCIS,

stationed aboard the USS 'Ronald Reagan'

as part of the Agent Afloat Program.

Uh... Well, I'm Dr. Roy Penrose.
I'm a forensic pathologist.

I am indentured to the AFP

while I wait for my retirement...

... or death, whichever comes first.

Is there something I can do
for you, Agent 'Mackay' the CSI?

NCIS, and it's 'Mackey'.

- I'm good.
- Mmm.

Sergeant Jim Dempsey, AFP.

That is, Australian Federal Police.

This is my partner Evie Cooper.

He's actually my partner.
I let him pretend.

- Yeah.
- Helps his confidence.

Special Agent DeShawn Jackson.
Great to be here.

So how can I help you folks?

We're here to bring Petty Officer Flynn

back to the carrier before
he's repatriated stateside.

Alright, no worries. We'll let
you know when we're done.

That won't be necessary.

Petty Officer Flynn was a
submariner on the USS 'Navajo'...

- I'm aware of that.
- ... which, like all American warships,

is sovereign US territory.

Maybe, but your boy here
died in Sydney Harbour

in waters surrounding
an Australian naval base,

so it's all us, I'm afraid.

- Sergeant...
- Just call me JD.

Sergeant, my job
is to investigate crimes

against US naval personnel.

And my job is to enforce Australian law,

which is why I don't want to get into

this whole pissing contest here.

- Couldn't agree more.
- Great.

So let's just accept

that I can piss further
than you can, shall we?

Hmm.

One sec.

JD.

Yes, ma'am.

Yep. Okay, I'll be right there.

Do I have a choice?

Foreign minister's the equivalent

of your secretary of state.

Yeah, I know.

Except she's Australian, so...

Oh.

I'm not sure if you've noticed,

but there's a US nuclear submarine

tied up a few hundred meters from here.

I did notice that, yes.

First nuclear-powered warship

in Sydney Harbour in over 40 years.

What would you call that?

- Controversial.
- Overdue.

Perhaps we could agree
on 'momentous', hm?

Trouble is all anyone's
talking about is this.

We've spent years negotiating this,

so to read 'AUKUS'

and 'Dead in the Water'
in the same sentence...

That's why a public display
of unity is essential.

I've spoken with the US ambassador

and we've agreed on an
extraordinary NCIS investigation

into Petty Officer Flynn's death.

I'm sorry. NCIS investigation?

Agent Mackey will lead the team

and you'll provide
the AFP's full resources

to help her get it done.

With all due respect, ma'am...

... this is our turf.

We should be the ones running the...

The decision's already
been made, Sergeant,

well north of your pay grade.

Are we clear?

- Crystal, ma'am.
- Yeah.

Sorry you had to go through that.

I'm not so sure you are.

Are we gonna have a problem here?

God, no.

See, I partner with visiting
American law enforcement

for a living, Agent Mackey.

So if the bigwigs reckon
it'll make better headlines

if NCIS run the show on this one,

then who am I to argue, right?

Funny, I thought that's
exactly what you were arguing.

No, no, I get the optics.

You know, there's me

and then there's you with your
matching NCIS cap and T-shirt.

See, I came here in a Kia,

you came here in that.

So what do you say we wrap this thing up

and get you back to your little
boat as soon as possible, huh?

A submarine's a 'boat', Sergeant.

An aircraft carrier is a 'ship'.

Whatever you say, Captain.

Oh, and, um, just so we're clear too,

seeing as though you can't wear a badge

or carry a gun in this country,

when it comes to doing
any actual police work,

you just let me know, yeah?

I'm all yours.

- You do that every time?
- That's how we roll.

Cruise into a port, get it done,
boom, on to the next one.

- Sounds like my last boyfriend.
- What?

Actually, come to think of it,
sounds more like me.

Hey, how'd you go, boss?
Straighten things out?

Sure did.

The NCIS is gonna run the show

and we're gonna do whatever we
can to wrap it up quick sticks.

One team, one dream, y'all. Love that.

Alright, let's get to it.

What do we know about
Petty Officer Flynn?

Right, so Petty Officer
2nd Class Eric Flynn...

27, born and raised
in Corpus Christi, Texas.

Six years in the navy,
last four on subs.

Recruitment profile said he joined up

in lieu of doing a stretch.

Seemed he liked a drink and
the bar fight that came with it.

Is there a significant
other we need to inform?

Apparently not.

Flynn was single and ready to mingle

according to the shipmates we spoke to.

He sure was.

Sorry. I had a sneak peek
at Mr. Flynn's profile.

- Sorry. Was I supposed to wait?
- No.

Never say sorry. Better to ask
forgiveness than permission.

Okay, right, sorry.

Sorry, that was...

So apparently he had a hot date
in the Rocks last night.

Can you get me an ID
and address for this Xena?

Just... I'm gonna have to hack
her profile to get that.

So just wondering if there's, like,

a privacy angle that I need to consider.

Absolutely. Hack it,
then keep it private.

So your boss,

not exactly the warm
and cuddly type, huh?

She can come in a little hot, can't she?

But she's good people, you know?

It just takes a little
getting used to, is all.

- How long did it take you?
- Ooft!

We met when I was with the JAG Corps.

- Mackey was JAG?
- Oh, God, no!

We were court martialing her.

What did she do?

See, that's a Mackey question.

Oh, come on! I won't tell.

Mn-mn! It's not for me to say.

But what I can say
is she was found not guilty.

Look, I won't lie.

Mackey doesn't always
play well with others.

What? You're only working that out now?

But she cares, you know?

And when she likes you,
hoo-whee, look out, baby.

That's it. You're all hers.

I can't tell if that's
a promise or a threat.

There you go. You're starting
to get her already.

Damn! And there she is, 'Bondy' Beach.

'Bondi'.

Ooh, hello!

I can see what all the fuss is about.

Trust me, it'd be twice as good
with half the wankers.

Wait. What?

Hey there. Special Agent Jackson, NCIS.

You certainly are.

- Uh...
- Constable Evie Cooper, AFP.

We're looking for Xena.

Xena Phobia at your service.

Why would somebody do this?

Easier to hack a real profile

than to build one from scratch, I guess.

It's a real violation, I know.

I don't care about that.
It's just so tacky.

Honestly, if you're gonna
hack a girl's dating profile,

at least improve it.

To be clear, then, you weren't on a date

with an American sailor
at the Rocks last night?

Afraid not, honey. Back-to-back shows.

But I am wide open tonight.

I'm afraid I gotta,
you know, take a rain check.

You know where to find me.

Of course.

In here. Yeah, obviously.

White blood count looks low. Huh.

Could be hepatitis.

So what you thinking?

What do you know about blood count?

JD said your PhD was
in quantum computing.

It is. Well, it was my first one.

I've got three different supervisors

in three different departments
across three unis, so shh!

You're doing a second PhD?

- You are?
- Yes.

You're barely old enough
to vote. How's that possible?

I don't know. I just... I got
my nerd on early, I guess.

Look, I know it's only
temporary, me being here,

but thank you for letting me hang.

No, no, no. None of that.
I wasn't aware I had a choice.

Yeah, I remember him.

He was playing pool with some blonde

in the downstairs bar
when the trouble happened.

What kind of trouble?

Couple of blokes got stuck into him

as soon as they heard he was a septic.

- Wait. He was septic?
- 'Septic'.

'Septic tank'. 'Yank'.

You get used to it.

Once they worked out
he was off that American sub,

they really got stuck in.

True to form, huh?

So I got the CCTV footage from the bar.

With facial rec,

they make sure the
over-the-counter version sucks

so no one gets too freaked out,

but the military's version is bananas.

Um... I didn't think we had this stuff.

We don't. It's not our military.

What?

Boss lady told me
to swing for the fences.

Yeah, boss lady's outward bound

on a ship for Tokyo next week.

You're not. Be careful.

Whoops!

Is it always like this?

Oh, what? You don't have
traffic where you're from?

I'm from Winthrop, Iowa.

They've been threatening
to put a traffic light in

since I was a baby.

So there you go.
I knew we were gonna find

some common ground sooner or later.

I'm from the bush too,

the little town
of Gumly Gumly outside of Wagga.

- Wagga?
- Well, Wagga Wagga, actually.

"Gumly Gumly just outside Wagga Wagga"?

- That's the one.
- You expect me to believe that?

Hey, at least we got
traffic lights, mate.

Really? Come on, mate. Let's go.

So... folks on the land too?

Crop-dusting business.

Ah. Okay, hence the love of flying.

Except my brothers
got dibs on the plane.

So... joined the marines,

learned to fly combat choppers instead.

Hm, okay.

Never liked being told
how low I could fly anyway.

Funny that.

Oh, heads up.

Oh, that's him, right? Let's go.

Hey, steady on. Police
work's on me, remember?

You just sit back, enjoy the show,
maybe take some notes.

Hey, AFP. Stop right there.

Oh, okay.

Come here! Hey, come here!

Come on! I can do this all day!

Huh!

Hey, come on!

Ugh!

Huh!

Thought I told you to stay put.

Got bored. Sue me.

You don't look too flustered.

I'm an activist.
Cops harass me all the time.

My partner did more
than harass you, mate.

She folded you like a deckchair.

Whatever, figured you'd be

banging on my door after what happened.

- So you do admit you did it, then?
- Bloody oath!

I'm proud of it too.

People need to know the dangers

of those nuclear subs in the harbor.

Hm, and you wanted to do that by what?

Kill a US submariner? Is that it?

What? What are you talking about?

What are you talking about?

The anti-nuke banner
at the AUKUS ceremony.

- I didn't kill anyone.
- Really? Oh.

This is you, isn't it?

- No?
- No, no.

We got into a little push-and-shove.

It's not my fault some loudmouth
Yank can't take a punch.

I barely hit the bloke.

And yet there he is, lying
on a slab in the next room.

And once we prove you hacked
Xena's dating profile

to lure him out, we got you
on premeditation as well.

This is insane! It was
nothing. He walked away!

I've got the footage
to prove it. Give me my phone.

Give me my phone!

My mate filmed it
in case security got heavy.

See? He walks away. He's fine.

Whoa, whoa. Pause it there.

Is that Xena?

This your little blonde honey trap?

She was with the Americans,
nothing to do with me.

You can let this bloke go.

Yeah, I don't think so.

- He's not our guy.
- What?

Flynn was dead no matter
what happened in that fight.

How can you be so sure?

Because he's radioactive.

All US personnel...

And you're sure we can't
just tow it back out to sea?

That is a $5 billion

state-of-the-art warship, Sergeant.

Yeah, that's leaking
its state-of-the-art

radioactive waste into Sydney Harbour.

How long till we can get eyes on board?

There's a specialist NAVSEA team

en route from San Diego as we speak.

That's it? There's no one closer?

Nuclear propulsion
is the most closely guarded

secret in the US Navy.

Not everyone gets to pop the
hood on one of those bad boys.

I hope there's still a hood to
pop by the time they get here.

Relax.

We have used nuclear warships

for the last 70 years without incident.

They don't break. Trust me.

Oh, how do you know?

Most closely guarded secret in the navy.

This is JD.

They what?

They just rocked up and grabbed him

halfway through the autopsy.

Colonel Richard Rankin, DOD Attaché.

Friend of yours?

Never met him before.

And this bloke, he's got the authority

to come in here and grab
Flynn's body like that?

In theory. Rankin's DOD, Flynn was Navy.

Still, I would've expected
a little heads-up.

Yeah, you know how this looks, right?

An irradiated sailor from
a nuclear sub disappears.

- Sergeant...
- Rankin's trying to bury the evidence

to make sure nothing
disrupts the AUKUS deal.

- I get it. I'll talk to him.
- Great. Let me know when.

Due respect, I don't think
that's such a good idea.

With all due respect, I don't
care! This is my harbor.

And this is my investigation.

We can, um, totally do this later.

- 100%.
- Or we can do it now.

- Yep.
- Sure thing. No problemo.

So, uh, we just came back

from where the 'Navajo' crew
are quarantining

until they test negative for radiation.

- Well, most of them anyway.
- Most of them are testing?

Most of them were there.

One failed to muster this morning.

Lieutenant O'Leary.
Left base same time as Flynn.

- Never returned.
- You're kidding me.

Two submariners from the same ship?

- 'Boat'.
- 'Boat'.

And what are the chances O'Leary
is radioactive as well, huh?

Well, if he is, the next
24 hours is gonna be critical.

After that, we can't do much for him.

Unless he's already dead in
a ditch somewhere as we speak.

If that's the case, then
the least we can do is...

... spell his name correctly.

- Pull his file.
- We did.

You're not gonna like it.

Right.

- I want his phone.
- It's off.

- Credit card?
- Got it, boss.

Put out a city-wide BOLO...

hotels, hospitals, halfway houses.

The clock is ticking, people.

Hey, who's the old dude?

Bob Hawke, the last of Australia's

larrikin prime ministers, apparently.

He held the world record for the
fastest yard of beer ever drunk.

Wait. Hold on. You guys
measure your beer by the yard?

- Do I look like I drink beer?
- Man!

You know, we do presidential libraries.

You guys do prime ministerial bars.

That's dope.

Sorry about the mess.

Big function last night.

Who knew craft brewers
were so into dress-ups?

I love craft brewing.

And dress-ups, come
to think of it. Rawr!

Are you done?

- Constable Evie Cooper.
- Special Agent DeShawn Jackson.

- NCIS...
- AFP...

AFP. We're Looking for this guy.

Last known use of his credit card

was in here around 9pm last night.

Oh, yeah, yeah, he was here.
You couldn't miss him. Huh!

Schlubby-looking dude walks in.

A minute later, the fittest
woman in the joint's

all over him like a rash.

- Look like they knew each other?
- Not at all.

She just beelined for him
as soon as he arrived.

Can you describe her?

Um, yeah, she was hot,
but in a kind of...

... a Eurotrash kind of way.

Blonde and, um, stacked.

We're gonna need to see
your security footage

of the function.

No can do, comrade.

Trust me, comrade,
you don't wanna do that.

I'll just come back with a warrant,

a health inspector if I have to.

No, it's not that. It's just
that we don't do surveillance.

Bob Hawke wasn't big on spies.

Special Agent Mackey,
Colonel Richard Rankin.

Good to meet you. Heard great things.

And you're already lying to me.
Not a good start, Colonel.

Oh, just trying to be polite.

I don't need polite. I need
Petty Officer Flynn back.

I'm afraid that's out of my hands.

What do you mean?

The Prime Minister's been briefed.

He's keen to keep it under wraps.

And how do we do that?

The sub's docked in
the middle of Sydney Harbour.

Rest assured, the PM's acutely aware

of the sensitivities around that.

You mean he's playing nice
for our American overlords?

Sergeant, you're out of line.

Out of line? Like snatching
a body mid-autopsy?

This is an ongoing investigation.

You already solved it, Agent Mackey.

The man died of radiation exposure.

From what? Those reactors don't fail.

You know as well as I do.

You're an investigator. I get it.

But in this instance,
you're seeing things

that just aren't there.

Like Flynn's body?

Or Lieutenant O'Leary's service file?

You want answers. I get it.

But our relationship with the Americans

has dimensions I can't
expect you to understand.

Still, how am I supposed to do my job

if I'm being kept in the dark?

Experienced campaigner,
I'm sure you'll find a way.

Like I said, I did a little digging

into you, Special Agent Mackey.

And?

And it's clear you barely
survived that court martial.

You don't know the first thing about me.

Well, I know the Marine Corps
tried to end you

and there's folks out there

looking for any excuse
to finish what they started.

I spoke to your boss, by the way.

He's a fan. Earmarked you
for big things down the track.

You just have to get there.

Just find O'Leary and call me.

The rest will take care of itself.

How'd you go with Rankin?

Oh, that good, huh?

Told me to play nice or I can
kiss my career goodbye. You?

Same. Like they compared notes.

Don't know if that makes me feel better

or a whole lot worse.

Mmm.

Does finding O'Leary
count as playing nice?

Room 28, second floor.

The owner confirmed O'Leary
checked in with a lady friend,

but without an apostrophe
in his last name.

Go, Rosie. I knew
that sour son of a bitch

would come in handy at some point.

- I'll tell him you said that.
- What?

We could open that door and
find him glowing in a bathtub.

Or he's just making up for months

trapped in a tin can
with a bunch of blokes.

Either way, I'm not taking...

Here.

Lieutenant O'Leary,
I'm Special Agent Mackey, NCIS.

This is Sergeant Jim Dempsey, AFP.

We are coming in. I want to
see your hands. You understand?

- What are you thinking, Rosie?
- I'm thinking it's 3am.

I shouldn't have answered the
bloody phone, but that helps.

Still, seeing as you're here?

Well... he's not radioactive.

- So that's something.
- Yeah.

Cause of death's a 9mm round,

entered just below his mandible,

exit north of his occipital lobe.

Self-inflicted?

Ah, hard to say

till I check for ballistics residue,

but I do have a dead bloke with a gun

and a 'farewell, cruel world' note.

- Paints a picture.
- That's what I'm worried about.

Undisturbed 24 hours after check-in.

That's a lot of foreplay.

Bathroom window's open.
Screen's pushed out.

And there's that.

"We are what we do,
but I didn't do enough".

It's a bit poetic for
a suicide note, isn't it?

Yeah, the whole thing feels staged.

Didn't need that on an empty stomach.

What have you got?

So we tracked O'Leary

to a cowboy-themed craft brew meet-up.

Where he hooked up with
a very attractive lady friend.

Take a swing at her hair color.

Why don't you show me the footage

and save me the suspense?

I would, but the ironic mustaches

at the Bob Hawke Beer and Leisure Centre

don't believe in CCTV.

They do, however,
believe in photo booths.

And as luck would have it...

First the dating app, now this.

Is she sloppy or is she messing with us?

- Think she was here too?
- Sure like to ask her.

And I'd sure like to get Mr. O'Leary

back to my rooms for the autopsy,

if that's not too much to ask.

We bring O'Leary back to base,

they come snatch him too,
just like Flynn.

No body, no fallout.

Someone tell me I'm wrong.

So, what if we don't take him back?

Ooh-hoo!

How good is that?

This place is crazy, Doc.
How'd you find it?

You been around as long as I have, son,

- you know where all the secrets are.
- Damn straight.

I used to come here every
New Year's Eve with my wife

and we'd get a nice bottle of
plonk, treat ourselves to that

and then we'd take in the old fireworks.

Yeah.

Best seats in the house.

Eternal rest grant unto him, my Lord,

and let perpetual light shine upon him.

May he rest in peace. Amen.

You right?

Sorry, sorry.

It... The blood panels are cooking.

I'm just waiting for the read-out.

You know, I'm impressed.

Not many people know
the Prayer of Eternal Rest.

How'd you know?

- How do I know?
- Yeah.

I have been bloody
doing this for 40 years.

You could say my entire
life is death. Hmph!

More to the point...

... how do you know?

- TikTok.
- Good on you.

How's that for confidence-building?

Gotta trust them to stop a bullet,

but whatever you do, don't drop 'em.

Uh-huh.

Hey, you know, fun fact...

Aussies survived Japanese POW camps

at higher rates than
any other nationalities.

You need to sleep.

- You know why?
- 'Cause you're delirious?

'Cause we shared everything.

Right down to the last bowl of rice.

Officers, grunts, didn't matter.

We'll be fine.

Hey, Jim, come here!

- Check it again.
- What is it?

Um, what's-it-called's got
something to show ya.

Um, O'Leary's blood panel...

confirmation he's not radioactive,

all totally normal, except that.

Uh, what am I looking at?

That spike is sodium pentothal.

So he died from being shot up
by sodium pentothal?

No, the small amount in O'Leary's blood

would actually have some
kind of euphoric effect.

So he was getting high?

If by 'high', you mean a decrease

in cortical brain function

designed to encourage
a loss of inhibition...

For the cheap seats, Blue?

Heh! Um, so before he died from

a gunshot wound to the head,

it's likely that he was
shot up with a truth serum.

Hm.

O'Leary was a nuclear submariner

with a sealed personnel file.

Sounds to me like he might have
been keeping a secret or two.

Just so I'm clear, are we talking about

a leaking nuclear sub or
leaking nuclear secrets?

I don't know, but I know
someone who might.

You're to report
to the carrier by 0900 hours.

The Admiral takes a dim view

of concealing dead sailors
from the chain of command.

I've also spoken with AFP.

Fair to say they're not thrilled

with your part in this
whole fiasco either.

Come again? One of your subs
has leaked into my harbor.

But you seem a little more interested

in saving your own ass
than looking after your people.

So you want to talk about
fiascos, Colonel?

Expect a call from your boss.

I'll deal with my boss when
I'm done with the investigation.

There is no more investigation.

The NAVSEA team are onboard
the 'Navajo' as we speak.

They're reporting
elevated levels of radiation

in the cooling system.

So the reactor is leaking.

Was. It was minor.

Enough to kill Flynn.

And O'Leary's guilt
at not discovering it sooner

led him to take his own life.

Why would O'Leary feel guilty?

Because he worked in the reactor room

as part of the propulsion team,

hence his classified access.

That's why his file's sealed, right?

I need to speak with NAVSEA.

You're not speaking with anyone.

You're both so keen
to one-up each other,

you invented a crime that never existed.

It's over...

... much like your careers.

You need to see this.

Go on. You're on.

- You tell them what you found.
- Okay.

So I was cleaning up after
they took Mr. Flynn's body

and I found clumps of hair
on the ground.

- Flynn's hair.
- I found Flynn's hair on the ground.

I don't understand. I thought
he lost it in the fight.

So did I, but turns out it was
because of radiation exposure,

but it kept on falling out postmortem.

Okay, either way, how is this news?

We already knew he was irradiated.

Well, I...

... I analyzed the hair follicle sample

and the results just came in.

Let me guess. Flynn didn't die
from radiation poisoning

and we've all got egg on our faces?

No, he... he did, just not from radium

like you would expect
from a leaky reactor.

So according to his hair sample,

he died from exposure to polonium-210.

Polonium's that radioactive isotope

the FSB used to kill that guy in London.

We need to let JOC know.

Know what?

That we suspect
the Russians poisoned Flynn

and emptied the 'Navajo' of her crew,

then tortured O'Leary
to steal nuclear secrets?

- That's insane!
- Yeah, is it, though?

I mean, we found polonium,
NAVSEA found radium.

Someone's got it wrong.

And just for the record, it wasn't me.

Which means either NAVSEA is lying...

Or Rankin's not playing straight.

- Mm.
- One way to find out.

What? No, no, no. Hey, hey. Listen.

We'd have to break in.

We've got zero authority anymore.

Then we got nothing to lose.

Come on, Sarge. Live a little.

Special Agent Michelle Mackey, NCIS.

- Where's the rest of your team?
- I'm it, ma'am.

We're on skeleton crew
on account of, you know...

Sure, this won't take long.

Ma'am, I'm under orders

not to let anyone inside the wire

until the NAVSEA team's
cleared the vessel.

That's why we're here.

They found traces of radiation
in the coolant system.

We have orders from JOC
to verify the readings.

Uh, I haven't received any
operational update, ma'am.

Till I do, I can't let you pass.

Your funeral, son.

Admiral Phillips, please.

Special Agent Mackey, NCIS.

Agent Mackey, sir.

I'm here with Petty Officer... Tan.

No, sir, we're still shipside.

Seems to be an issue with access.

Yes, sir.

Petty Officer Tan, sir.

Now, son, you are going
to let them through

or that strange sensation
you're gonna be feeling

in the seat of your pants

will be my boot up your ass!

You'll be cleaning latrines
in Gitmo within a week!

- Yes, sir.
- You like that?

- Join the damned Air Force!
- I understand, Admiral.

- Understand?!
- Yes, sir.

How's Doc's American accent?

Pretty convincing, apparently.

I guess you can add
ordering a subordinate

to impersonate an admiral
to your charge sheet.

As my dad used to say,

"If two wrongs don't
make a right, try a third".

Y'all can't be in here.

The whole place is a restricted zone.

Yeah, I heard.

Special Agent Mackey, NCIS.

Lieutenant Commander Brandis,
NAVSEA San Diego.

I'm afraid it's not safe
for you guys to be here.

Why? Have you found something?

'Cause, uh...

... I'm getting nothing here.

Mind if we take a look around?

I do, ma'am.

I have fleet-level orders that give me

operational control of the situation.

I can't let you aboard that ship.

Ship?

I thought you navy guys
called it a 'boat'.

Seems they have some confusion
over chain of command.

It happens. I understand.

I have our orders right here.

Everybody, move!

Split up! Go, go, go! Move!

Oh!

- Put the gun down.
- I don't think so!

Put your guns on the ground
or you leave me no choice.

Evie, don't you dare!
I'm counting to three.

One, two... three!

Hey, asshole.

Mackey! You okay? You okay?

Hey, look at me, look at me, look at me.

Damn... Oh, you good?

Oh! That was some shot, cowboy.

You really are from the country.

There's easier ways
to get me to prove it.

You good?

Oh!

No! Hey!

I'm guessing we need some
kind of clearance to do this.

I'd have thought so.

Hey, what the hell?!

Okay, I've got eyes on.
They're up ahead.

They're heading for open sea.

Yeah, don't worry. I know. I got this.

Pull up beside them.

This is NCIS Special Agent Mackey.

Step away from the controls

and raise your hands so I can see them.

They're not stopping, Mackey.

They're gonna get away.

- What now?
- Time to kick it up a notch.

Gonna herd them back around.

I see them down there.

Come on!

How do you like that?

Back left, back left. Going
back left! Going back left!

Alright, they're going
straight out. Let's go.

Let's chase them, let's chase them.

Stay on them, stay on them.

Investigators are pointing
to a ruptured fuel line

as the cause of the fire
that claimed the lives

of all three fishermen on board.

That's the best they could come up with?

A fishing accident?

Oh, yeah, what did they
use as bait? Semtex?

Come on. Take the win, hey?

It's much better than the alternative.

It's been real, yo.

Good man.

Tell you one thing... as an office,

this is gonna be bloody hard to top.

- Oh!
- Last one out, kill the lights.

Alright.

I get it.

What are you gonna do
after they fire you?

Go back to teaching, probably. You?

Haven't worked it out yet.

Can you cropdust from a chopper?

Come.

All evidence points to
a sleeper cell going back years.

They'd infiltrated NAVSEA

with the sole aim of penetrating
America's nuclear secrets.

Few will ever know how close they got.

Congratulations to you both.

For what?

This isn't over. That boat
was rigged to explode.

Somebody didn't want their guys

anywhere near an interrogation room.

- And what about the woman?
- No sign of her yet.

- But still looking.
- Huh.

Well, what if she wasn't on the boat?

Then I expect that won't be

the last time that we hear from her.

Special Agent Mackey,
you look a little shocked.

Sir, uh, I just didn't expect
to be fired by the boss, is all.

I figured you had people for that.

Oh, I do. I'm not here to fire you.

Not today at least.

Ken Carter, Special Agent in Charge,

NCIS Field Office
Southeast Asia, Singapore.

I want to thank you for
hosting us, Sergeant.

I've worked with Mackey before.

It can't have been easy.

I'm right here, sir.

Happy to help. Any time.

Well, I'm glad to hear it.

That's the kind of attitude
we need moving forward.

Moving forward? To where?

You know what? Truth
is we didn't really gel.

Like, at all. She's a
massive pain in the ass.

We can't carry weapons and
they don't even speak English.

We got lucky, to be honest.

- He means we lucked out.
- Exactly.

I understand what he means
and I don't think

luck has anything to do with it at all,

nor does Director Vance for that matter.

What do you think, Minister?

The beer was a nice touch.

Hmm. In and out, they said.

A week, maybe two.

Come on. It's not so bad.

Tell me you're not a little
excited to be working together.

I barely know you.
I don't even like you.

Sure you do.

Anyway, I've been more worried
about how you're gonna

break it to the Doc that he has
to stick around for a while.

You gotta admit it has got
a certain ring to it.

NCIS Sydney.

It'll be fun. Just ditch
the suit, relax a little.

Play your cards right, I might
even slip you a T-shirt.

- Oh, you wouldn't.
- Try and stop me.

Come on, partner. Beer's on me.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly -
- www.MY-SUBS.com -