All language subtitles for NCIS - S18E11 - Gut Punch.en

Is he hurt?

She's been shot.

Is that a kennel?

Good Lord.

Your neighbor wasn't
fishing with his dogs.

He was drowning them.

Who the hell are you?

Gibbs, Gibbs, let go.

Not like this.
-Not like this.
-Let go.

Tell me you regret what you did.

-Can't do that.
-In that case,

I have no choice
but to suspend you.

Indefinitely.

I believe in America.

I believe in the working man.

The tired single parent
and part-time volleyball coach.

And I believe in his right
to take a break from all of that

and drive 300 miles
to see his favorite musician.

The Boss.

Who we both know is about
to play an acoustic set

to a very small group
of VIPs.

And I deserve to be one of them.

Please.

Let me in.

No.

I didn't want to play
this card, but...

I have his face
tattooed on my...

Sir, if you drop trou,

I will use my stun gun.

Uh, joke's on you, pal.

After the third time,
it didn't even hurt.

Hello, Washington, D.C.

Are you ready?

We've got an awesome show
for you tonight.

With no further ado ...ss.

I'm coming.

I give you, the live tour,

the Emperor of E Street,

I give you The Boss.

Aah!

Oh...

That's not my blood.

Aah!

Director, I have
Secretary of Defense McClane

for you.

On what line, Pamela?

He's not on the phone, sir.

Director Vance.

Mr. Secretary.

-Welcome.
-My apologies for the surprise.

I'm, um,

I'm squeezing
in face time

with agency heads
when and where I can.

Lieutenant,
give us a minute, please?

Plus, I just wanted to see
if what they tell me is true.

That Leon Vance has
gained ten pounds

and lost his right hook.

You son of a bitch.

Come on, I'll show you.

Come here.

It's more like 20 pounds.

Yeah, right? Right, it's
good to see you, man.

-It's good to see you, too.
-Yeah. Surprised?

What, that Congress
approved your waiver

or that the Senate
actually confirmed you

to be the secretary?

Seriously,
congratulations, Moses.

-Thanks, Leon.
-You also have
my sympathies.

That job is one tough hill
to climb.

Oh, well, I
like those.

It's why the Marine Corps
gave me four stars.

And why my doctor
just gave me new stress meds.

You always go for the knockout.

Oh, you better
believe it.

Starting with...

hosting the Yemeni
foreign affairs minister

at my house later this week.

Forget the knockout, Mose,
you going for the title belt.

The Yemenis agreed to sit down?

Which brings me
to why I'm really here, Leon.

Now, I understand
one of your agents

was recently been suspended for,

shall we say,
conduct unbecoming?

Gibbs. I didn't realize that
that incident

made its way
so far up the ladder.

Well, normally,
it wouldn't,

but a reporter's been calling,

asking for DoD comment,
and the timing isn't ideal.

And any negative press
could spook the Yemenis.

Yeah, which is exactly why
-I'm not returning those calls.
-Mm.

And why I'm asking NCIS
not to comment.

Now, I appreciate the
reporter's position.

We don't need
the court of public opinion

to readjudicate that case.

The matter has been handled,
Mr. Secretary.

But I understand.

Ah.

And...

what about Agent Gibbs?

Gibbs doesn't talk
to reporters.

And neither will his team.

They are skating on thin ice
as it is.

Thanks, Leon.

Listen, politics aside,
Yemen is in crisis.

So this summit has
humanitarian implications.

Is there anything else
NCIS can do for you?

Well, now that you mention it,
there is one small thing.

Oh, thanks, Todd.

Todd seem weird to you?

Todd is not judging us, Bishop.

But you saw him, right?
I mean, he clearly knows.

Everyone at NCIS knows.

That Gibbs got suspended
indefinitely

or that we got caught
trying to protect him?

All of it.

Something we can
help you with, Sawyer?

Justice, McGee.

That is our job
as special agents, right?

To make sure
those who break the rules

face the consequences
of their actions.

Even the cool kids.

Look, Sawyer,

we messed up and we know it,

and we will face
the consequences of our actions.

Except there haven't been
any consequences.

I mean,
Gibbs took it on the chin,

but his disciples
barely got a reprimand.

Why?

Hey, Sawyer.

Go home.

The night shift is over.

Oh, I think it's just beginning.

-What is he talking about?
-Okay, forget it, Nick.

Let's just keep our heads down
and solve the next case

that comes along.

Well, not mine.

NCIS Special Agent

Veronica Tyler.

Yep.

On our way.

Let's go. We got a body.

Hey, Ronnie, you guys
are working the day shift now?

Told you.

A new day is dawning.

Sawyer, stop being a dick
and grab your gear.

Did we just get passed over?

You're being reassigned.

Uh, Director?

Are we being punished, sir?

Well, it depends on what
you consider punishment.

The new
Secretary of Defense

is hosting an event
at his home in three days,

and I'm assigning your team
to the detail.

-Oh, well, then, we're on it.
-Hmm.

Fancy event?
Can't be that bad.

Yeah, dress up a little bit.

I'm sorry,
I-I didn't make myself clear.

I'm not assigning your team
to a security detail.

You won't be attending
the event.

Uh, what kind of detail
is this, sir?

COVID detail.

The three of you
are gonna be

our new health
compliance officers.

I trust you can
handle this assignment

without further embarrassing me,

the agency or yourselves
in any way?

Your jobs depend on it.

Okay, yeah.
We're on it.

-Uh, yes, sir.
Yes, sir, absolutely.

Good.

Yeah, we're
being punished.

Mm, usually take
your coffee to go.

How come you've been
drinking at the counter lately?

-You kicking me out, Elaine?
-No, no, no.

Just wondering if maybe
you retired.

Hey, hon.

-Hi.
-What can I
get for you?

Well...

According to online reviews,

I understand your specialties
are the...

the chicken-fried steak
and the fresh-baked apple pie.

Oh, you did your homework.

I always do.

But that being said,

we know we can't always trust
what's on the Internet.

So I prefer to ask regular,
real people.

You look like real people.

So what should I do?

The steak or the pie?

Coffee.

Coffee.

And a piece
of pie, please.

Okay.

I'm Marcie, by the way.

Gibbs.

So, you got a funky little place
here, Gibbs.

I bet there's lots
of stories that go along

with those plates
of bacon and eggs.

You would know.

How's that?

So, what--
you don't like my picture?

Oh, you don't
like my writing.

I don't like being ambushed.

Look,

your bosses are refusing
to return my calls,

so thought I'd go straight
to the source.

Everything okay?

Should have ordered the steak.

75% alcohol. Wow, this
is the good stuff.

Do you hear yourself, McGee?

We are trained federal agents.

Trained federal agents

who are lucky enough
to still have a job.

You don't put peacocks
in cages.

All right? They need
to show their feathers,

they need to fly away.

Peacocks don't really fly.

They take, like, several
small leaps and a final hop.

Okay, the point
is that we messed up.

But we don't give up. This
is where we prove ourselves.

Now, Sawyer was right.
We are the cool kids.

Mm, were the cool kids.
Past tense.

It could be worse,

So let's do what Vance says

and stick to these
assignments.

Right. Which is why
I've taken the liberty

of dividing up our pre-event
health and safety duties.

Including site evaluation,

sanitizer placement,

and test and vaccine
verification

for everyone on the guest list.

Team Gibbs is down

with PPE?

Sexy.

Although not quite as sexy
as being down with...

Springsteen.

-What?
-Bruce?

And Gaga.
And Bono.

Y-You did not meet
those people.

I had to rule them out
as suspects.

Don't worry, Tyler and I
have plenty of other leads.

Such as?

Sorry, that info
is for the A team only.

Enjoy your stickers.

My desk.

-Hey, Jimmy.
-Hey, Nick.

-I'm still working.
-Oh, no problem.

But I can give you
what I have so far.

Oh, okay.

The victim is
ID'd as, uh,

Marine Lance Corporal
Jesse Flint.

-You already knew that. Duh.
-Duh.

Uh, time of death was
10:30 last night,

so just before he was
found in the dumpster.

And I confirmed that the
cause of death was in fact

three gunshot wounds,
including the one to the head.

Mm. Overkill.

Funny. That's actually
what Agent Sawyer said

at the crime...

Wait a minute,
this isn't your case.

And you're not here
for an update.

What is this
on his hand and arm?

Nick, you...

Purple paint-- that's weird.

Okay, Jimmy,
I'm here for a rapid test.

Just couldn't help yourself,
could you?

I get it, I do.

A murder case
is way more interesting.

Yeah, than a lame COVID
assignment? Hell yeah.

Nick, health and safety
protocols might not be fun,

but the consequences
of not enforcing them...

can be tragic.

Breena.
Of course.

You're right, Jimmy.
I'm sorry.

Honestly, Team Gibbs
should know better.

They made their bed, and now
they have to lie in it.

Yeah, I know. Still,
I feel kind of guilty.

I mean, they just
look so... sad.

Uh, hello?
Sitting right here.

Oh, we know, but this lab

-no-pity zone.
-I'm not here for pity.

I'm here because you have

the only working labeler
in the building.

Looks like the paint
on your victim's body

was number 7863.

Blushing Eggplant.

I hear that color is very in.

Sorry. Not my case.
I'll be quiet.

Well, I doubt our Marine was
up on the latest color trends.

He was more of the, uh,
black and blue type.

Lance Corporal Flint
was in the middle

of a dishonorable discharge
for fighting

and domestic abuse
against his girlfriend.

Interesting.
You know, when you talk to her,

you should, um...

Sorry.

Uh-uh.
You can't put that there.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I-I measured.
This is optimum distance

between the wet bar
and the restrooms.

It's also where
the secretary of defense

is going to toast the Yemeni
foreign affairs minister,

and the cheap plastic clashes
with the party decor.

And, uh, you are?

Miles Thatcher.

One of SECDEF's personal aides.

I was also aide to his
civilian predecessor.

He would have noticed
-my design choices.
-Where?

Well, the whole patio.
We...

are redecorating everything
for this event.

No, no, no.
Uh, where do you want me

to put the hand sanitizer?

Figure it out.

I'm sure it doesn't take
an advanced degree.

Actually, I have two of those.

Ah. Funny guy.

NCIS was not
on the security list.

Uh, I'm actually here
as a COVID officer,

Mr. Al-Kamal,
and I hate to bother you,

but your embassy has yet
to hand over test data

-and vaccine certifications.
-Yes.

All guests need to file
paperwork with us

-before the event.
-Forgive me, but,

you understand our reluctance
to trust sensitive medical data

to the American
health care system.

I do, I do.
It is not perfect.

My co-pays are a fortune.

Universal health care is
promised in our constitution.

Yes, and I imagine it's hard
to deliver on that promise

in the middle
of a deadly civil war.

I lost my parents two years ago,

and my brother last month.

This summit is important.

My apologies, Agent Bishop.

I'll get you whatever you need.

"Kamal" means perfection, right?

Uh, sorry.
Old habits from boarding school.

You should hear
what happened to kids

who left wrinkles
in their bedsheets.

-Ah.
-You speak Arabic.

Not bad for a COVID officer.

And peacocks can fly.

And according to this,
they don't fly far,

but they can reach
ten miles per hour.

Uh, if you say so.

See, you're an artist.

You feel my pain.
You can't just turn off talent.

Hey, I'd much rather
be at a jazz club

playing some Art Tatum,
but here I am,

practicing John Tesh covers
for the Man.

You know, sometimes
-peacocks get put in cages.
-Yeah, you're telling me.

And after having spent
the last year out of work,

I'm just happy
for a paying gig, brother.

Thanks for listening.

Oh, I appreciate that, man.

Hey, you know what.
-Take a demo CD.
-What?

Yeah, uh, the first track
is called

"I'm Locked in a Cage,
Let Me Out."No.

It's about taking mushrooms
on a airplane.

But, uh, it works
for your thing, too.

Yeah.

3.9 GPA from Johns Hopkins
and MIT,

all to put down stickers.

Yeah, well, at least
you didn't insult

the foreign minister's attaché.

And all I got
-was a bad jazz trip.
-Hm.

You know, I know I said
this assignment could be worse,

but I don't see how.

You got something
on your jacket.

Oh, man.
It's paint.

-What is that, purple?
-No, that's not purple, that's...

Blushing Eggplant.

Wait, that was the same

color paint as the one

that was on the body in autopsy.

Same as our murder victim?
That's quite the coincidence.

Yeah.
It's probably nothing.

Unless he was at SECDEF's
house before he was killed.

-Right.
-Because then we'd
have to assume

it was connected to his death.

Right.

And we'd have to...

investigate.

This is not our case.
We can't do that.

Right?

Our victim is Lance
Corporal Jesse Flint,

and was soon to be
a former lance corporal

thanks to his history
of violence.

Bad Marine, bad dude.

Yeah. So what was he doing
at SECDEF's house?

Look, we don't know
if he was there for sure.

He's not our victim
because it's not our case.

It is now.

Why, because we found
a little paint on him?

-Shh!
-Shh!

You know sound carries in here.

But don't worry,

the paint is not a priority.

The victim worked
as a handyman on the side.

How did you get a clicker?

By following Vance's orders.

Like I was saying,
Lance Corporal Flint

painted houses all over town.

It's a coincidence.

Agent Tyler and I

already have a lead
on the killer.

Seems the victim's
girlfriend skipped town.

Seems suspicious, right?

So stay the hell
out of our case,

or I'm going to Vance.

All right, I know we want to get
involved, but we got to drop it.

You don't drop
a gut feeling, McGee.

Last time, our gut
got us in trouble.

Then we make sure
we get it right.

Was this man
one of the painters?

Did you hire him?

What does this have to do with
health protocols?

Look, you need us to sign off
on the safety of this event,

so... we need answers.

Yes.

He was handing out leaflets
in front of the PX,

and he begged me for a job.

But, like everybody who steps
foot on the property,

I verified that
he was vaccinated.

I only wish
I'd verified his references.

So there was a problem, or ....

But painting requires
an eye for detail.

This guy
might as well be blind.

-Mm.
-You fired him?

I didn't have to.

Two hours into the job
he took a cell phone call

and walked away.

I never heard from him again.

Ah, damn piano player.

Excuse me.

Hmm. Do you still think
we should drop it?

Yeah.

Our dead painter may have
been acting strange,

but it still doesn't
prove anything.

I say we go check out
his work van

and see what he was up to.

This is not our job.

Not yet.

Hey, guys.

How's it going?

Got an update, Palmer?

Uh, no, no, no, no.

So what are you doing here?

Oh, that's right, yes.
I have a few questions for you.

Uh, did you find
the victim's girlfriend?

Did you find anything unusual
in his apartment or vehicle?

And did you find
a computer or cell phone?

You're not even
trying to hide it, are you?

Team Gibbs sent you.

Of course they did.
I'm trying to confirm

the victim's COVID
contact tracing.

Did the body test positive?

Uh, no, no, but
as you said, uh,

"He was painting houses
all over town."

Yes. Why?

Well, then, despite
a negative COVID test,

his close relations
and/or possessions

could have been exposed.

What? Uh...
How?

That's for the compliance
officer to determine.

But in my medical opinion,

we should just test all
the evidence. You know, just...

-just in case.
-This is absurd.

Team Gibbs is just using you

to nose into this case.

Agent Sawyer, our job
is to help the team.

Now, do your job.

Gibbs.

Yeah, I-I'm glad
to get your call.

I spoke with the IG.

I think it's time
we talk next steps.

I'm not calling
about that, Director.

A reporter came to see me.

I heard, uh, someone's
been asking questions.

I hear someone's
not answering them.

NCIS has been asked not
to comment on the story, Gibbs.

There is no story.
Just truth.

I agree. But the matter
has already been handled,

internally and appropriately.

Then tell them that.

I refuse to publicly throw
one of my agents under the bus.

I don't want protection.

Yeah, you've made that
perfectly clear.

Between beating a man half to
death and refusing to apologize,

I seem to be the only one
saving you from yourself.

And quite frankly, Gibbs,

I'm getting tired of it.

Yeah?
Then stop.

Hey, Luce?
Come on.

Lunch.

Well, that's everything.

No evidence in the murder case,
and no damn COVID.

-Happy now?
-Mm.

Yeah, Tyler.

On my way.

We found the
missing girlfriend.

I'll make sure to get
her contact tracing history.

You didn't answer his question.

-Are you happy now?
-No.

-And why not?
-For starters,

what was our handyman
doing with hypodermic needles

in his work van, hmm?

Don't know.
Mixing paint colors?

You know, that was Sawyer's
theory, but our dead guy

was not a
paint wizard.

So, can you please
run the needles, Kase?

Of course. I'll have the results
to you by the end of the week.

That long?

My plate is full.

When you aren't the lead agents,

your stuff
goes to the bottom of the pile.

-Okay.
-There are other agents
in this building.

And as annoying as some
of those agents may be...

we're a team.

Which is why
you should look at this.

Somebody wrote down
a paint code.

9949.

Jade Garden?

It's not in any
of these paint catalogues.

Custom color?

Or a street
address?

Garden could be a street suffix,
like court or lane.

Which would mean the lead agents
missed a clue.

Mm. That's what
I'm saying.

Okay, but your stuff still goes
to the bottom of the pile.

Are you sure this is
9949 Jade Garden?

Yep.

Federal agents.
Hello?

No power.

Ah.
Yes there is.

I am
completely

flashing back to my days
doing musical theatre.

Ooh. Godspell.

Please sing.

-Forgot the words.
-Ah.

Wonder what our, uh,
handyman was doing

with the address of this place.

Mm, maybe
another side job?

What did, uh,
Agent Tyler think?

Are they meeting
us here, or...

Uh...

Are you s... Really?
You didn't call them?

Okay, McGee, we were waiting
to find something more relevant.

Hey, yo.

I think we just did.

What is all this?

I recognize this place.

All these photos are
from SECDEF's house.

Yeah, the handyman wasn't
painting the house.

He was casing
the joint.

For what?

Something he wanted
to keep secret.

Nobody move.

This place is wired to blow.

-Director.
-Gentlemen.

Well, you've been busy.

How'd the COVID officers
end up defusing bombs?

Well, sir, during the, uh,
course of our assignment,

we discovered
that SECDEF McClane's house

had recently been painted
by our murder victim.

A bad color to match a bad guy.

Yes, I read the file.

Lance Corporal Flint
had a history of violence.

And we wanted
to make sure his murder

didn't pose a security threat
to the summit.

Hmm.
-So we investigated.

And?
Does it pose a threat?

Oh, more than we knew.

We-we found weapons, phony IDs,

even, uh, an offshore bank
account with $100,000 in it.

We also

found, uh, surveillance photos,
all of SECDEF McClane.

We believe the murder victim
was also a hit man.

And SECDEF was his next target.

Thankfully, they were never
at the house at the same time.

So who hired
this hit man?

And is the hit still active?

Well, we don't know yet.

But we are on it, Director.

No, you're not.

As much as I appreciate your
carefully-worded explanation,

this team has once again
overstepped bounds.

Where are Agents
-Tyler and Sawyer?
We were planning

on sharing everything
that we found with them, sir.

Yes. You're also going to follow
their orders from here on out.

They still
have lead.

Understood?

We found the victim's
girlfriend.

Turns out she has an alibi,
so-- not our killer.

But we did get into Flint's
encrypted email account.

He exchanged messages

with whoever hired
him to kill SECDEF.

Still nothing
to identify that person,

but the emails show Flint
was blackmailing his employer.

"If you want to stay anonymous,
I want more money."

Could be motive for murder.

So you think
whoever hired the hit man

also killed him.

That makes sense.

What we really need is a list

of who wants SECDEF dead.

You know, background stuff.

Computer stuff.

Nerd stuff.

-You got a problem with that?
-Yes.

SECDEF's life is in danger
and you're playing petty games.

Oh, I'm not playing games.

I simply don't trust you.

What the hell
do you want from us?

-I want you to stop screwing up.
-Whoa. Sawyer.

NCIS is a team.

And when you screw up,
it makes us all look bad.

Lucy, stay.

I come bearing gifts.

A peace offering.

It's a steak.

Maybe.

No, it's not.

I was never
given the opportunity

to explain myself
at the diner the other day.

First, that was not an act.

And it certainly
was not an ambush.

That's not who I am.

I was merely trying
to work my way up into a...

a very nice introduction
by use of a little small talk.

But by then,
it was too late, so...

here I am.

Why?

Because I want
to give you something

more than just this steak.

Ignore the loquacious patron
from the diner and just...

just read my work.

There are newspaper articles
and magazine columns.

But what I am most proud of
is my investigative work.

Which is about
exposing the truth.

And I know you know something
about the truth,

and I want to be the one
to write about it.

Because that's who I am.

In that case, I, uh...

I thank you for your time.

Enjoy the... whatever that is,

and good luck
on your boat engine.

Wait, wait.
My what?

Your boat...

That's a carburetor
for a Graymarine Phantom, right?

I hear they're
a pain in the ass.

Are you waiting
to see Secretary McClane?

Yes. He's inside, uh, meeting
with his security detail.

My embassy was informed
of the threat on his life.

I'm afraid the summit
must be cancelled.

Maybe it can happen
another time?

A foreign minister
meeting on U.S. soil

has already caused
outcry back home.

The chances of it
happening again are very small.

I'm sorry.

So am I, Agent Bishop.

With my would-be assassin dead,

I was hoping that the threat
had been neutralized.

We still have to find
whoever hired him, sir.

That's why I'm here.

What, to ask me
about my enemies?

That could take a while.

Would you excuse
us, please?

I understand.
Mr. Secretary.

Thank you.

Please.

Ah.
Thank you.

Well...

there goes any chance
of real progress.

They're kidney meds,
Agent Bishop.

Damn stress will probably kill
me long before any assassin.

Vital foreign policy decisions
should not be determined

by a bunch
of damn Internet crazies.

Sounds like you know
who's behind this.

No. No, I...

Look, just forget
I said anything.

Even if it means a chance
at saving your summit?

I made a bad call ten years ago.

It was a mistake

that I deeply regret.

SECDEF wasn't kidding.
This was a bad call.

There was, uh,
an Al-Qaeda standoff

near an Iraqi oil refinery.

And rather than
try and negotiate,

General McClane
took a different approach.

All hell broke loose
and the refinery

burned to the ground.

Do people want him dead
for this?

There's this online
community that thinks

the incident
is some kind of

massive conspiracy.

SECDEF "purposely
destroyed the refinery

to cover up his secret
ties to oil barons."

Radical user groups
have been posting death threats.

Gives us a lot of suspects.

Oh, I think
I can help with that.

You listened
to the piano player's demo CD?

I did more than listen.
Check your email.

Hmm.

Security records
for the summit.

You reran the entire guest list.

-I was looking for red flags.
-You find any?

Yeah.
The last name on this CD

doesn't match the one
on the list.

Kendle Spotnitz is actually
Kendle Radcliffe.

Why would he use
a phony ID?

Because the piano player

has a rap sheet
for drug possession.

He would have failed
the background check.

Nice catch.

You did all this on your own?

Oh, hell no.
I practically begged the, uh...

cyber crime unit.

Damn, you
nerded hard.

I nerded real hard.

Okay, hang on.
Check this out.

Piano player talked to
our Internet crazies.

And he seemed to hate the Man.

I think that's motive.

Well, let's ask him.

Okay, okay.

Now, we can't go anywhere until
we talk to Tyler and Sawyer.

Hold on, hold on.

No answer.

We should call Agent Tyler again
just in case.

Don't bother. We can
handle a jazz musician.

Okay.

Federal agents.

NCIS!

Whoa!

Easy.

It's just us.

Didn't you see the cop outside?

No, there was no cop outside.

We heard a crash.

I dropped a dish.

-Where's Kendle?
-Relax.

He's not going anywhere.

He was dead when we found him.

What happened?

I have a better question.

What the hell are you two
even doing here?

We traced the earlier emails
to an IP address

at the piano player's apartment.

That's how we
beat you there.

Sorry.

When we arrived,
we found Kendle Radcliffe

dead in his bathtub,
single intraoral gunshot wound.

GSR on his hand
says suicide.

We then found
a laptop containing

the same blackmail messages
from our hitman.

So the piano player
hired the hitman,

killed the hitman,
and then killed himself.

The Glock used in the suicide
was a match

to the murder weapon.

Which means the dead
piano player is our killer.

Case closed.

SECDEF's event is
back on for tonight.

This is the part
where you congratulate us.

Where do you think
the piano player

got the money
to hire a hitman?

He hasn't worked for a year.

And why kill himself?

You said the guy used a fake ID
to get the gig at SECDEF's.

He knew it was only a matter
of time until we found out.

And what about the money?

We suspect he crowdsourced it

from his fellow
Internet crazies.

I don't know. Seems
kind of convenient.

Yeah, a little
too convenient.

I don't believe this.

There is no evidence

that the hit is still active

and everyone involved is dead.

What more do you want?

It just feels like
we're missing something.

Do you have anything
to prove that?

Other than some gut feeling?

Then it's over.

Well, unless...

Unless your feeling's
strong enough to call Vance.

No.
Congrats on the win.

Guys, we did the right thing.

Then why does it
feel so wrong?

Thought I said
this was a no-pity zone.

What are y'all doing in here?

We have a gut feeling.

You mean the feeling

that something doesn't add up

and the answer
is staring us in the face?

Yeah, how'd you know?

Because I have
the same feeling.

I've been processing evidence
from the suicide scene.

Please tell us
you got something.

Like last-minute evidence

that could crack
this case wide open?

-Uh, yeah.
-Yes, no,

Yes, yes.you got something like that?

Well, I don't.

Everything so far points
-to murder, then suicide.
-Hmm.

Sorry.

What's that,
Kase-- a break?

Cork and potassium.

And what is that?

I was finally able to process

the syringes
from the hit man van,

but the results only show

compressed cork
and liquid potassium.

Not exactly helpful.

Cork is used in everything

from bulletin boards
to wine bottles.

And liquid potassium
is harmless.

Well, it was a nice try.

Unless you have
a kidney condition.

What's that?

Potassium is harmless

unless you have
a kidney condition,

and SECDEF McClane
takes kidney meds.

Then these levels of potassium
would send his system into shock

and he'd be dead within minutes.

Did the hit man
plan to inject him?

But that doesn't
explain the cork.

Unless the hit man
injected something else.

Uh, if I could have
everyone's attention, please.

Thank you.

In a time of great distancing--

both physically
and politically--

it's important
that we come together now

more than ever,

both as friends

and allies.

-Did you stop the toast?
-Hang on,
slow down.

We checked every bottle
of champagne.

There were no signs
of tampering.

Yeah, we told you
there wouldn't be.

A tiny needle prick.

This is crazy.

You're just the COVID officers.

We're federal agents.

So please join me
in raising a glass

to our renewed partnership

and to peace.

NCIS!
Do not move!

Everybody put your
glasses down.

Mister Secretary,
do not drink that!

Please, Minister, wait.

I assure you this is
all a misunderstanding.

Thank you.

I sure hope you have a
good explanation for this,

Agent McGee.

So do I, sir.

Now, if we're right, the strip
should turn bright red.

-Right about what?
Potassium.

Deadly to someone
with a chronic kidney condition.

I'll be damned.

How the hell's a piano player
know my medical history?

He didn't.

Someone else was behind this.

Someone who had access
to security records.

Is this some sort of joke,
Agent Bishop?

You have some explaining to do.

Nasser Al-Kamal hired
a hit man to kill SECDEF,

but not for what
happened in the past.

For what was about to happen.

Mm-hmm. A U.S. alliance
with his country.

As it turns out,

Mister Al-Kamal
was part of a Yemeni

nationalist group online.

They have Internet crazies, too.

But when the hit man
threatened to expose Kamal,

Kamal killed him.

Then set up the piano player
to take the fall.

Hardly seems worth the trouble.

I mean, why not just
try to kill me himself?

Plausible deniability, sir.

Well, it's a good thing NCIS
had their top team on the case.

So...

how'd you crack it?

When we found
the piano player dead,

his apartment was a mess.

All except for the towels.

We learned that
Mr. Al-Kamal is very OCD

with wrinkles.

And you ran the towels
for touch DNA.

So you confirmed all this

before you sent the other team
to crash the party?

Not exactly, Director.

It was more of a gut feeling.

Whose gut feeling?

Ah, thanks, Todd.

You think Todd knows?

What, that we saved SECDEF

or that we let Tyler and Sawyer
take the credit?

All of it.

But...

we are a team, right?

Thanks, Ronnie.

No, thank you.

And also...

we're sorry.

Vance mentioned
this morning's news.

We read the article.

What article?

Paper ran a story on Gibbs.

What about him?

Well, your team
is not mentioned,

but everything else is.

The attack,
the investigation,

his confession.

How bad is it, McGee?

You know what,
it's really accurate.

Everything Gibbs said
and-and did is...

is in here almost word-for-word.

There's no way a reporter
would know all of this.

Unless...

someone talked.

Don't look at me.

Director.

Want a drink?

I won't be here that long.

You talked to the reporter.

I only told the truth.

Yes.

That's not
why I'm here.

I came here to tell you,
face-to-face...

...whatever comes
of this story,

whatever happens
next, Gibbs...

...I can't save you.

I know.

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