Original subtitles

Previously on "NCIS"...

I want those codes.

Those nuclear codes will do you no good.

Pentagon would've changed them by now.

Hi, hey, everybody. It's good to be back.

- Shoot. - Oh.

I'll get that for you.

- What happened to you? - On-the-job injury.

How would you like to, um,

- see each other? - I'd like that.

Nice work.

What's your assessment?

Don't know yet.

But I will.

Officer Clark.

Call me Westley.

The CIA appreciates your cooperation.

Be careful of this guy, okay?

Director Vance. Secretary Crawford.

I understand you've been tracking Leon Vance.

No idea what you're talking about.

I want everything you have.

Honey? What's-what's going on?

Oh.

I just woke up and realized...

I left my purse out in the car.

You should have asked me to go out and get it for you.

Well, I didn't want to wake you.

Yeah, but it's-it's cold outside.

Hmm, so...

come back to bed and warm me up.

I like the way you think.

Come on.

*NCIS* Season 16 Episode 18

*NCIS* Episode Title: "Mona Lisa"

What up? It's Nick.

Leave your message, and I'll hit you back.

Hey.

It's me. Again.

You need to hit me back, ASAP.

Or, better yet, just get your ass into work.

Morning, Bishop. How's it going?

Hey, have you seen Torres?

Um, I'm doing fine. Thank you for asking.

Okay, McGee, I just saw you, like, eight hours ago.

Do we really need to debrief every single morning?

I guess not.

Have you seen Torres?

Actually, no. We did have plans

to have breakfast at the diner, but, um, he stood me up.

Huh.

What?

Nothing. Uh, Nick and I decided

we'd come in early to knock out some of these.

ROls before work, but he bailed on me, too.

How many times did you try calling him?

13.

I know. I just, I really hate paperwork.

No judgments.

It's just, it's not like Nick to blow us off like this.

Straight to voice mail.

What do we do?

Not overreact.

It's Torres. I'm-I'm sure he's got a story.

Yeah. Better be a good one.

Called him this morning.

He didn't call back. It doesn't sound like Nick.

You call him?

13 times, apparently. Hmm.

Ping his phone.

I'm on it right now.

I got a location.

That's odd.

Very.

Virginia Beach? That's three hours away.

Let's go.

Oh.

Rough night, Torres?

How the hell did I get here?

You asking me?

Actually, I don't even know where here is.

Apex Marina.

Virginia Beach?

Oh, man, what happened to me?

Are these rhetorical questions?

Oh, Gibbs. My head is killing me.

What'd you have to drink last night?

No booze, nothing. Nick.

No, Gibbs, I-I promise you. I-I had zero drops of alcohol.

I-I've been doing, I've been doing much better with that.

What's the last thing you remember?

I remember leaving the office to go to the gym,

like I do every Monday.

Mm-hmm. And then?

And then I remember stretching, starting my cardio,

and...

nothing after that.

Drink. You're dehydrated.

This is so messed up.

- I feel like I was... - Drugged.

Drugged. But by who and why?

Check your wallet.

All the cash is here.

Dock master says

the boat's been abandoned here for months.

They're still sorting out ownership.

You rode your motorcycle to the office yesterday, right?

Right. I, um...

Then I-I rode it to the gym.

Why? Is she not here?

Then how the hell did I get here?

Again, you're asking us?

Hey. Found this under the mattress.

What you got?

It's a broken saw blade, I think.

But that's not the most disturbing thing I found.

Wait, why's my T-shirt in the evidence bag?

Because it's splattered in blood.

Oh, am I cut?

So who's blood is it?

That is not a rhetorical question.

Your gym.

You see anybody there last night?

Uh...

I was supposed to meet my trainer, Jordan,

but I... I don't think I saw him.

Bishop, with me. McGee, get him back.

Have Palmer take a look at him.

Hey, Gibbs, don't bench me, man. Just give me...

Water. Drink it.

Give me something to do.

- Hey, Leon. - Hey, Jack, you got a minute?

Sure. What's up?

I need your opinion on something.

Something or someone?

What's the latest?

I think it's time to take things to the next level.

Mm-hmm?

Is that what I think it is?

Wow.

She's a beauty.

- May I? - Sure.

Mmm.

Too much?

Please.

No jewelry is ever too much. Always remember that.

This is the piece you told me about, huh?

Mm-hmm.

They did nice work.

Ruby red.

The color of passion, love, desire and danger.

Okay, you can save your chakra colors mumbo-jumbo

for the field agents, Jack.

Hey. Take a look at your lollipop, please.

This is more of a magenta.

Thanks, Jack.

Okay, good.

Now the other one.

Huh. See? I told you I was fine.

Uh, we should let the doctor decide.

You have very striking eyes, Nick.

- Anyone ever tell you that? - Yes.

Hmm.

Well, there's no apparent head trauma,

so I think we can rule out a concussion.

There you go. You happy, McGee?

However,

11 hours of total memory loss is a serious medical condition.

One that requires extensive examination,

- testing. - I was drugged.

Test is over. So you say.

But you still can't tell me exactly what happened.

Because I was drugged.

Perhaps, but there are a lot of

other explanations, Nick, including epilepsy, stroke.

Could be a tumor.

Torreses don't tumor.

Afraid of needles, Nick?

Not afraid of needles, noted.

Elbow on the table.

All right. You're gonna feel a little prick.

Hey. Found this in my go bag.

Not a chance.

I thought you wanted a shirt.

Yeah, but not in exchange for my dignity.

All right, I'll run those up to Kasie.

Nick, you get dressed. I'll meet you back here in five.

We'll start poring over your cell phone data,

see if we can build a timeline and retrace your steps.

Sounds good.

Here you go. Hold that on there.

Wasn't so bad, huh?

Where you going?

Hey, hey, hey. I'm serious.

You are not to leave this building.

Doctor's orders.

This is why I prefer working on dead people.

Hey. So, gym surveillance footage is digital

on an off-site server.

Management is working on getting us access.

That's management?

Yeah. That is Trevor.

He said Jordan is doing bag work.

Hard, hard, hard. Good, good, good.

Uh, Gibbs.

I just got another text from the woman

who rented Ziva her private office.

Really? Bishop, we're gonna talk about that now?

I know, I know. But she keeps texting me.

She wants you to clear out the rest of Ziva's things.

I just didn't get around to it.

Look, I know it's not easy, seeing Ziva's stuff.

- I can take care of it. - No.

No, I said I'll do it. I'll do it.

You do it.

Okay. No problem.

Jordan?

Jordan.

Let's go. Do work, brother. Come on!

Come on! Put the hips into it.

Three left, three left, three left.

- Hands up, hands up. - Jordan Peralta?

NCIS.

All right, why don't you grab some water.

Is Nick okay?

Yeah, he's fine. Uh, we just have a couple questions

to ask you about last night.

Yeah, yeah, of course. Whatever you need.

You must be Ellie.

Special Agent Bishop.

Sorry, it's just that I feel like I know you.

Nick's a bit of a chatterbug, you know?

But he's said nothing but good things, believe me.

In fact, he said you really been coming along lately.

I'm sorry? "Coming along"?

You must be Gibbs.

Yep. Definitely Gibbs.

You trained Torres last night?

Actually, no. Uh, I was supposed to,

but there was an accident at Columbus Plaza.

Called to tell him I was gonna be a little late.

How'd he sound?

Same old Nick. Like a tiger ready to pounce.

Said he was gonna wait for me,

but when I got here, he was gone.

So you never actually saw him?

No. I tried calling him for, like, an hour or so.

He never got back to me.

Figured something must have come up.

But it's not like him to skip bi's and tri's day.

So Torres blacks out,

- we don't know why. - Yep.

Then he leaves the gym, we don't know how. Yeah.

And somehow, he gets blood on his shirt,

- and we don't know whose. - Yep.

Sounds like a typical Tuesday.

Okay, so Nick's bike is blue, right?

I don't know. Black, maybe? I don't know.

I think that was the old one.

Why don't we ask him.

What's he doing here?

Torres.

What are you doing?

I'm looking, I'm looking for my bike.

I... know, I know I parked it here.

Hey. You shouldn't be here.

Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine. Jimmy said.

Really?

Okay, well, your shirt says otherwise.

It's a choice.

Mm.

Look, I appreciate the concern, guys, but what happened to me

last night, that's not your problem, it's mine.

Have your keys?

I'm sorry?

Do you have the keys to your motorcycle?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Betty?

Betty?

Why is my alarm

chirping from a dumpster?

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

Oh, God. Lord.

Let this buff out.

Bishop.

Uh-huh.

You got to be kidding me.

We I.D.'d the victim

as 27-year-old Jessica Ho.

She's a cocktail waitress in Georgetown.

Record? Oh, yeah.

Drug possession, writing bad checks,

probation violation, et cetera.

Torres?

You sure you don't know her?

Well, she doesn't belong to your gym.

She used one of those one-day free passes.

But time stamp puts her

there at the same time as you last night, so...

So what, McGee?

I just said I don't know who this woman is.

I've never met her before,

and I don't know how she ended up dead under my bike.

Palmer.

Single gunshot wound to the neck.

Severed her carotid artery.

That was that.

Anything else? Yeah, there was very little blood

at the crime scene. My guess...

- Body was moved. - Hey.

So I went down the rabbit hole of trying to locate

the owner of the fishing boat. No luck.

- It's not registered? - Oh, no, it's registered.

To three different owners in three different countries.

- Coast Guard. - I called them.

Hopefully, they'll have more info.

Kasie's got your tox results.

About time.

I'll take the bullet.

For real?

For real.

Come on.

Dr. Mallard. Yeah, thank you for calling me back.

Kasie.

- Talk to me. - Do you know

how many tools humans have invented to cut things?

Uh, saws, knives, chisels, Chinese stars... ooh.

Bullets.

Kasie?

My tox screen.

Uh, the mystery blade

you found on the boat came back negative for DNA,

so it's not the murder weapon.

Right. I'm testing the metal alloys now.

Alloys, by the way, are super fascinating,

and I will tell you about that another time.

'Cause you're about to tell us...

All about the victim's smashed up cell phone.

Yeah, I mean, whew!

Even if I managed to fix this puppy,

I still got to figure out a way to bypass

- the password protection... - Kasie.

Uh, yeah?

It's okay. Gibbs sent us.

Oh. Oh, well, that makes everything

way less awkward, now, doesn't it?

Okay, Nick, there is a really good reason

you don't remember anything from last night.

Actually, there's four good reasons:

alprazolam, clonazepam, ketamine,

and some mystery compound I'm still working to I.D.

Whoa. You were roofied.

All right. I knew it.

That's a, uh, good thing?

Yeah, it's a good thing.

That means that I'm not crazy.

It also means that I'm pretty stupid.

Why?

Because I let myself get roofied.

Oh, no, Nick, don't beat yourself up.

It could've happened to anyone.

I'm not anyone.

No, you're right.

You're no easy target. So why you?

I don't know why, but I do know how.

Your blood also showed elevated levels of

creatine peptides, which means...

Somebody roofied my protein shake.

I bring one to the gym every night.

I know. I also know how much your protein shake means to you.

Well, so did somebody else.

Dr. Palmer!

Come in, please.

Pretty impressive, isn't it?

I just... yeah, yeah.

So not what I was expecting, but it... very cool.

Thank you.

Turn down the music 80%, please.

Turning down music.

Uh, Doctor, I'm sorry for disturbing you.

I know this isn't your department anymore, but...

I found something kind of interesting

when I was examining Agent Torres.

He had constricted pupils.

Well, he did suspect he'd been drugged, didn't he?

Right, but his tox screen showed a cocktail of benzodiazepines,

which, as you know, should've...

Dilated his pupils rather than constricting them.

Interesting, indeed.

Treadmill desk, huh?

Oh, it's just for taking a stroll.

I estimate I've walked, oh, about 4.5 miles so far today.

All without ever leaving your office.

Yeah, well, as agency historian,

my first job is to annotate

a mass of NCIS files.

There's no way I'm gonna do that sitting down.

Yes, when I was in Burma... Myanmar now...

A history professor was giving a long lecture

on the Indochina War, and he never sat...

Dr. Palmer?

Pretty cool, huh?

It's about damn time.

I've been waiing for that laptop for three weeks.

And now you're gonna get it.

Guy's not exactly an easy mark.

Sees everything.

Even noticed that I switched to a bigger purse.

You're not up to the task?

I have the laptop, don't I?

Did the deed in my pajamas.

Sounds like things are getting real cozy. You baking pies, too?

If that's what it takes.

On your right.

Enjoy lunch, but not too much.

Keep me updated, Clark.

I don't know.

In the next hour or so.

Okay. Thank you.

- Hey. - Hey.

Mm.

Please.

Is it too early for Chardonnay?

I'm way ahead of you. Yes.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

That necklace

is beautiful.

Mm-hmm. Mm, thanks.

My boyfriend gave it to me.

- Oh, really? - Mm-hmm.

Man's got exquisite taste.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, Gibbs?

All right. I'm on my way.

Work beckons.

- I'm so sorry. - Oh.

I will make it up to you tonight,

I swear.

You better.

Bye.

Mm.

Afternoon.

How was lunch?

Hmm?

Big dog's got to eat.

Well, I'm glad I rushed.

Oh, sorry.

Commander Hendrix was just here.

He'll-he'll be right in.

Gibbs, you seeing this?

I am. Is that a shark?

It is.

What rank do you have to reach to own a shark?

Commander.

Beautiful animals, expensive hobby.

I don't recommend it. Are we ready?

Well, apparently, we're on your schedule, Commander.

Looks like you gentlemen found yourselves a ghost ship.

What do you mean?

Well, according to maritime records,

your fishing boat sank nine years ago.

Well, how did she get above water?

Best guess: she never actually sank.

Somebody made her vanish.

Who?

Last owner, shell company,

which disbanded after its only vessel was taken out.

Well, there had to be a reason for the secrecy.

Smuggling. Commander,

we're talking about a fishing boat, not a speedboat.

Exactly. It hides in plain sight.

Smugglers build go-fast boats for open ocean travel.

Low-profile, hard to detect,

but it screams "arrest me" when it arrives in port.

So they rendezvous with mules a few miles offshore,

offload their contraband, and no one's the wiser.

Contraband?

Narcotics, money, people.

Take your pick.

Oh, hey. Hey, Nick.

No.

No?

Don't even try it. Try what?

All those mind games and all that talkie-talkie stuff.

I know what you're gonna say, and I'm fine.

What was I gonna say?

You're gonna say that it's fine to be a victim,

that it's not my fault, that it's okay that I got roofied...

Maybe it is.

...and that an agent as trained as me...

Wait, hold on.

Did you just say it is my fault?

Oh, good. So you are listening.

Whatever happened to not blaming the victim?

Oh, is that how you feel? Like a victim?

Oh, God, here comes the lollipop.

Nick.

Hey, McGee, Bishop,

can you tell Sloane that I'm doing fine?

Um...

What?

What?

You said you don't know Jessica Ho, right?

Right.

You sure?

Yeah, I already told you. Why do you keep asking me?

We just got the surveillance footage back from your gym.

Did you see who drugged me?

Unfortunately, no.

The interior camera system was down.

Parking garage?

One camera, limited view.

Nick, you were the-the last person to see her alive.

Agent Torres, I do believe that's you

walking arm-in-arm with a dead woman.

Any more surprises that we should know about?

I hope not.

No. No more surprises.

Are you sure about that?

He's not.

I just came from forensics.

Oh, here we go.

The blood that was found on your T-shirt

came back as a match to our victim, Jessica Ho.

Of course.

Nick...

Ellie.

Uh, I'm sorry I have to ask this, but...

is it possible that,

in your altered state, there's even the slightest chance

- that you... - That I what?

Shot that girl in the neck?

This is ridiculous. Is it?

I mean, you said it yourself. You don't remember anything.

And that makes me a murderer?

You didn't kill anybody. Right, Torres?

Right.

So you're not a cold-blooded murderer.

That's good to hear.

But someone did kill that girl.

And for your sake, I hope you have a lead on who.

Because, as far as I can tell,

all the evidence is pointing towards you.

Which means I have no choice

but to turn this case over to the I.G. to initiate

a level 2B investigation.

First thing tomorrow morning.

Yeah. I'll be right down.

Torres, with me. Autopsy.

Awesome.

Let's find out who else I murdered.

A tiny screw, the size of a...

Well, I can't think of a small enough comparison right now,

but it was really, really tiny.

And I forgot to replace it,

so I had to take the whole thing apart again.

- The phone working or not? - Oh.

It's working.

- What about her password? - Oh.

With these smartphones, it's impossible to figure out.

And her password is six digits

instead of four, which makes it...

infinitely impossible.

- But you got it. - No.

Then what are we doing here?

Oh, I realized we don't need it.

All we need...

...is her.

Her phone has

the facial recognition feature.

Now, this might be a little bit creepy, but bear with me.

Okay.

Oh. Damn.

Aw. I really wanted to say "voilà."

Facial rec must be disabled.

Here. Try it again.

Ah! Voilà!

We need her phone log from the past 24 hours.

On it.

Well, that was easy.

This phone has only made two calls.

Ever. Both to the same person.

I know that number.

Jack.

Hey, Romeo.

How'd Mallory like her necklace?

Worked like a charm.

Mm. Uh, Agent Torres's personal trainer.

How's he mixed up in all this?

Our victim, Jessica Ho,

called him right before she was killed.

Really?

And how's Agent Torres holding up?

He says he's good.

But he's more shaken than he realized,

so I asked if we could talk.

What is going on, bro?

You tell me, bro.

Who's this?

You recognize her now?

Whoa, dude! Not cool, man.

You know my whole thing with night terrors.

That's the least of your problems.

That's the girl who was killed outside of the gym.

What's this have to do with me?

She called you the night she was killed,

and the night before that.

The chick that called me is the same one who got shot?

Wait, you never met her?

Not face-to-face.

She just cold-called me out of the blue.

What'd she want?

A favor.

It was more like an offer, I guess.

She said she'd pay me ten grand,

and all I had to do was be late to your training session.

Why?

She didn't say.

But you did it anyways?

For ten grand?

Yeah.

All I had to do was be a little late.

I didn't know anyone would end up dead.

How'd she pay you?

ChargeMo.

It's an app.

Jordan Peralta's ChargeMo account.

$10,000 was deposited into it

the afternoon Jessica was killed.

Deposited by who? Account traces back

to a business called Brueger Marine Lines.

Brueger?

Yeah. It's an international

shipping company based out of Belgium.

Zero Internet presence.

Why would a shipping company bribe your trainer to be late?

So that girl could drug and kidnap him.

Yeah, she was a real Mona Lisa.

Sorry, Mona Lisa, like the painting?

No, not like the painting. Like...

Mona Lisa, like the girl who lures in their victims

into dangerous situations.

You don't listen to rap, do you?

- No. - There's, like,

whole songs dedicated to these girls.

Except that, in the songs,

Mona Lisas don't end up dead.

So why did yours?

Did her job. They didn't need her anymore.

Who's "they"? And what did they want with me?

I don't know,

but I think I know what they were smuggling.

The blade you found on the fishing boat is made

of phosphorous and bronze,

one of the world's strongest alloys,

which is used specifically to cut...

Diamonds.

You just stole my thunder.

But, yes, Nick, diamonds it is.

I knew Brueger sounded familiar.

Back in my undercover days,

I-I worked on a joint investigation where we seized

a shipment of stolen diamonds.

Joint investigation with who?

The Coast Guard.

Here we go. Operation IronWheel.

Stolen, uncut diamonds were smuggled

into the country on container ships leased by...

- Brueger Marine Lines. - That's right.

It was a joint investigation with NCIS.

We seized $12 million worth of diamonds,

apprehended two suspects.

Impressive haul, Torres.

Your boys did the legwork, Commander.

I only came down for the takedown.

Short but, uh, very sweet.

Uh, don't.

She doesn't like it.

Didn't she used to have a buddy?

She ate him.

We need to see everything you have

- on Brueger Marine Lines. - Can't.

Case is still pending.

Pending?

We made that bust, like, five years ago.

The slow wheels of justice.

Trial should be coming up in a couple of months.

Easterling!

Tell you what.

I can show you boys everything we got on Brueger,

as long as you stay on the premises.

Yes, Commander?

With me, please.

We keep all evidence in active cases under strict lock and key.

Why the sudden interest in this case, Gibbs?

Due diligence.

Here we are. All the info we have on Brueger.

Easterling will be here for anything you need.

You know, this was my first water raid, Gibbs.

It was a freezing night.

And, finally, at 4:00 in the morning,

we saw a little, tiny... dot of light in the water.

Turned out to be a dot worth $12 million.

All the evidence here?

You bet.

The diamonds, too?

Yes, sir. Okay.

Show us. Let's see 'em.

Where are they? The diamonds.

I saw them last week during inventory.

Who was the last person to have access to the room?

According to the iris scanner log,

only one person has accessed this room in the past week.

Who?

You, Agent Torres.

Nick, what are you doing?

Just making sure.

Uh, you didn't steal the diamonds, Nick.

Really?

Just like I didn't break into some random fishing boat?

Just like I didn't get Jessica Ho killed?

I mean, I figure, hey,

at this point, I might as well check for the diamonds, too.

Hey, just calm down, okay?

No, McGee, you calm down.

Hey! You done?

You're not a thief.

Well, if I didn't steal them, then who did?

Same person who killed Jessica Ho and kidnapped you.

And how'd they do it?

Well, there's only three people

that have access to that evidence room.

Commander Hendrix, the federal prosecutor

assigned to the trial,

and the NCIS agent who made the bust.

Me.

We already did some digging,

and the commander and prosecutor both have solid alibis.

Which leaves me, again.

Yeah, or someone posing as you.

The problem is the iris scanner; it's calibrated specifically

to your eyes, and it-it's difficult

to circumvent.

Difficult, but not impossible.

You did not steal the diamonds, Nick.

Someone stole your eyes.

What?

- How? - Well, not your eyes,

your irises.

And they didn't steal them,

they copied them.

Which explains why you were drugged.

Someone needed you out of commission

so they could take a super high-res photo

of your irises from a very close range.

Kasie identified

the compound in your blood.

It's a rare drug called dapiprazole.

Optometrists use it to induce myosis.

That's, uh, constriction of the pupils.

A constricted pupil makes it much easier

to examine the intricacies of the iris.

Using a high-resolution photographic image,

it is possible to fabricate

a contact lens

imprinted with the unique characteristics

of the person's iris.

We fabricated this lens

using your iris scan data NCIS has

in your personnel file.

As you all know,

Dr. Palmer cannot

normally access MTAC.

But Special Agent Torres can.

Whoa. Impressive.

Except it still doesn't tell us how they snuck into.

Coast Guard Headquarters in the first place.

I'm guessing if they can fake an iris, they can fake an I.D.

Yeah, but they still need someone on the inside,

tell them where the diamonds were stored.

Yes, sir, we're reviewing our security protocol.

And we're making every effort...

Will do, sir.

The hell is NCIS?

On their way up, Commander.

Agent Gibbs,

tell me you've got good news.

Good news? For who?

Do you have any leads on the diamonds?

Got a suspect in mind.

You have an alibi for that night?

An alibi? Are you kidding me?

Not you, Commander.

You.

Hi.

You got the wrong girl.

Well, the "wrong girl" here forged prescriptions

for clonazepam and ketamine last week.

The same drugs that blacked me out that night.

The "wrong girl" also sent dozens of e-mails

to a well-known associate of Brueger Marine Lines.

The diamond smugglers?

She cut a deal to sell the diamonds back to them.

But based on your negative bank balance,

I'd say they haven't paid you yet.

I think you still got the diamonds.

No.

Search my apartment,

my car, everything I own.

Oh, we're doing that now.

Okay, this is crazy, Commander.

They can search all they want.

They won't find anything.

You know what, she's right.

They won't.

But we will.

The really funny thing about uncut diamonds...

...they look like little clear rocks.

The old diamonds

in the shark tank trick, huh?

Didn't I see that in a movie once?

Pretty smart place to stash them while she waited to get paid.

Too bad she wasn't smart enough to encrypt her e-mails

to the smugglers she worked for.

Well, either way,

she's done feeding the fish for a while, right, Nick?

Good luck with that.

You hungry?

Sure you want to break bread with a, with a killer?

Oh, I see.

That's what the silent treatment is about.

You accuse your buddy

of being a killer one time...

What do you want from me?

An apology?

Nope.

Then what?

Maybe a little faith.

I have more than a little faith in you.

You know that.

It's just, in that moment,

you looked guilty as hell.

Come on, if the shoe were on the other foot,

you would've asked the same questions.

No.

I wouldn't.

So I guess that's a no on dinner.

Hey, Nick, you're okay, right?

I guess I'll find out.

Nice work.

I'll get this back to him tonight.

Then your assignment's over.

End the relationship immediately.

Gladly.

Well, well.

Gang's all here.

Leon.

Don't bother.

Then your assignment's over.

End the relationship immediately.

Gladly.

Your gift was a recording device.

Never spy on a spy.

Leon.

I don't know what to say.

I think "gladly" summed it up nicely.

Here.

Saves me a trip.

All right, this ends now.

The surveillance, the laptop sweep, all of it.

I couldn't agree more.

Why?

The Director of NCIS

was a hostage of an enemy regime.

It's standard operating procedure

to monitor captives after their return

to ensure that they've not become

an agent of a foreign power.

And it took you six months to figure out that I wasn't?

No, that took two months.

Okay, what about the last four?

This is an off-the-books account.

Offshore bank.

I accidentally stumbled across it a year ago.

What, CIA is looking for a new accountant?

It's not CIA's.

- Whose is it? - I made a few discreet inquiries

and I learned that nobody cares.

The intelligence community is under

assault right now, and no one wants to stick their neck out.

But that's a quarter of a billion dollar slush fund

with zero accountability.

That is a building on fire right there,

and everyone's running away.

Why the hell are you following me?

Because I learned something watching you.

You just might be the last good man in D.C.

You, Agent Gibbs,

your team.

But I had to be sure.

And now I am...

and I need help.

I cannot do this alone.

You traced the account.

Whose is it?

Your boss.

Wait a minute.

What's the United States Secretary of Defense

doing with a quarter of a billion dollars

in a secret account?

Can't be good.

Now I think it's time to run into that burning building.

You want to come with?

Captioning sponsored by CBS

and TOYOTA.

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org

Sync corrections by srjanapala