All language subtitles for NCIS 16x18 - Mona Lisa Eng

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 16x18 ♪
Mona Lisa
Original Air Date on April 2, 2019

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

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

ROIs 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 waiting 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.

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?

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man