All language subtitles for ncis.s22e17.1080p.web.h264-successfulcrab_track3_[eng]

This symbol is associated
with the Nexus drug cartel.

Torres was undercover in
one of those D.C. operations.

What? What happened?

I got made.

Well, outside of this room,
the only person

that knew we had an agent
undercover is at DOJ.

Are you saying that...

Laroche is a mole?

The Secretary of the Navy
felt it important

to hire someone
from outside our walls.

Can you say who it is?

Newly appointed
NCIS Deputy Director Laroche.

I look forward
to working with you.

KNIGHT:
Are you stalking him?

McGEE:
No, I'm just keeping tabs.

How was everything, Flo?

Well, it was delicious, dear.

As always.

Again, I am sorry
I couldn't get you

your regular table.

That guy has been here
half the morning.

Oh, that's all right.

But he seemed
to give you some trouble.

He sent his omelet back twice.

Said it looked funny

and refused to pay for it.

Oh, thank God,
he is finally leaving.

Thank you so much
for coming.

I'm sorry everything

wasn't to your liking.

Uh, excuse me?!

Hey!

Are you serious?

You hog the table
for three hours,

you abuse the free
coffee refills,

and now you stiff me
on the tip?

If there was any justice
in this world,

they'd lock up
guys like you.

(siren wailing)
AGENT: Let me see your hands!

Federal Agents!
Get your hands in the air!

AGENT:
On your knees! Get down!

(overlapping shouting)
Get down!

Oh, my God.
AGENT:
Get down now!

Get down now!

Hands behind your head.

AGENT:
Get him in. Get him in.

Code Four,
10-15 in custody.

AGENT: Let's go!
(helicopter whirring)

I tipped 30%, dear.

I don't want any trouble.

(tires screeching)

Thanks.

♪

PARKER:
Director.

Is he our guy?

He's our guy.

His name is Paul Morton.

REACT found a suppressed
handgun in his backpack.

Kasie ran ballistics.
It's a match.

VANCE:
So Morton

killed Lieutenant Commander
Ryan Willis.

Why?
That's where it gets
interesting.

When we searched
Morton's motel room,

we found a sniper rifle,

cash, multiple passports.

Sounds like a hit man.

Not just any hit man.

We also found this.

It's full
of poems.

Some with the pages torn out.

Hold on, are you saying that--?

We caught The Poet, Leon.

VANCE: Well,
I'll be damned.

FBI suspects he's behind

dozens of contract kills.

Yeah, well, he got his name
because he always left

a poem at the crime scene.

And Kasie confirmed
that they were

torn out of that book.

But there was no poem on Willis.
Why?

Well, I'll add that
to the list of questions

for Morton's interrogation.

Well, I hope the anonymous tip

is also on that list.

A week with no leads?

Then, out of the blue,
we get an email

ID'ing Morton as the killer.

That's convenient.

And suspicious.

Whoever sent that tip may know

the name of the client
that hired Morton.

Cyber's working
on tracing the tip,

but they're up
against some heavy encryption.

Fortunately...

McGee knows someone.

For real, you stayed in E-Tower?

Freshman and
sophomore years.

And then I pledged
Alpha Delta Phi.

DELILAH: Oh, you
were bad boys.

I was Delta Gamma.

LAROCHE: Oh, that figures,
Delta Gammas were all

the smart girls.
Yeah, well.

Tim, did you know the deputy
director went to CMU?

Uh, I did not.

I was, uh,
a few years ahead of her,

so, sadly,
we never crossed paths.

That's a shame.

Well, I would love to keep

talking Tartans, but I'm late.

Delilah,
lovely to meet you.

I am glad to see NCIS

opening themselves
to outside help.

If you need anything at all,
you know where to find me.

Thank you, Gabe.

(chuckles softly)

I'm sorry, "Gabe"?

What?

That's his name.

(scoffs)

Oh.

Do you want me
to call him "Laroche"?

I've got a few other names
you can call him.

Okay, well, I just
came to say hi

before heading down to Cyber
to help track the anonymous tip.

Okay, hon, look,
I'm-I'm sorry, okay?

I apologize,
it's just...

the guy gets under my skin.

Oh, well, with as much
as you talk about him,

I'm starting to think
he lives under there.

Tim.

Come on, he's, he's nice.

Honey, it's an act.

You don't believe me?
Look at what I found

under my desk last week.

What am I looking at?
That is a mint.

Okay, that is
a Cool Beans brand mint.

It's Laroche's brand.

So?

He was at my desk.

Okay? He's spying on me.

Smell this, okay?
Smell it!

Okay, no.

Tim, it's been, what,
six months since you lost out

on the deputy director job
to Gabe?

Don't you think
that it's time to move on?

This isn't about the job, okay?

It's about the fact that
he hides things from the team.

He plays politics
with our cases.

Well, then talk to him
about that.

Confront him.

Or...

let it go.

'Cause this,
this is not helpful.

KASIE:
McGee? Hey--

Oh, hey, Delilah.

I am so glad
that you are here.

Yeah, no problem.
What's going on?

I just got
into The Poet's phone.

You find out who hired him?

No, but I figured out

why he was sitting at that café.

And it was not
for the coffee.

Poets use words, don't they?

Maybe he's not much of a poet.

But you know what he does have
in common with poets?

He's broke.

Oh, that's right.

Because the money
you were paid to kill

Lieutenant Commander Willis...

it's no good
to you now.

TORRES:
You got only one chip
to play now.

Tell us who paid you
to kill him.

Come on, Paul,
make the smart choice.

KNIGHT: The only choice.
Tell us who your client is.

Chief Warrant Officer
Ian Garza

lives across the street from the
café where we arrested Morton.

Morton's phone was
full of these photos.

KNIGHT:
It's a waste of time.

Garza was Morton's
next target.

We found Garza at NSF Dahlgren.

Base police are escorting him
up here as we speak.

Good. Only problem is,

we're doing
all the talking.

Morton won't give up
his client.

TORRES:
Why are you protecting them?

Huh?

You want to know
how we found you?

An anonymous tip.

Because someone sold you out--

"I have a rendezvous
with Death."

Excuse me?

"I have a rendezvous with Death

"at some disputed barricade

"when Spring comes back
and rustling shade

"and apple-blossoms
fill the air.

I have a rendezvous with Death."

Is that a poem?

Yeah.

Alan Seeger.

He wrote it just
before he died.

"It may be he shall
take my hand."

What the hell?

"And lead me into his dark land

"And close my eyes

and quench my breath..."

All right, he did something
to himself. Call 911!

I'll get Jimmy.
What did you do?

What did you do?!

"It may be
I shall pass him still.

I have a rendezvous with Death."

♪ Mix the pancake,
stir the pancake ♪

♪ Pop it in the pan ♪

♪ Fry the pancake,
toss the pancake ♪

♪ Catch it if you can. ♪

Am I interrupting?

Uh, no, Agent Parker, I-I just
figured since I had The Poet

here on my table today, I might
as well recite some poetry.

But I can only seem
to remember a nursery rhyme

that I used to sing with
Victoria while we made pancakes.

He was no poet, Jimmy.

Poetry's supposed to connect us
to humanity.

Yeah, and Morton here was paid
to sever that connection.

Take my advice: don't waste
any words on this guy.

Mm.

Except...

you know,
to tell me how he died.

Oh, right,
you're gonna love this.

You see this
bruising here?

That's where Morton
dug his fingers

deep into his own forearm.

Why would he do that?

Because he wanted
to break these.

Glass capsules
underneath his skin.

I found the old scars here
indicating where they'd been

implanted. Probably did it
years ago as a precaution.

Break glass
in case of emergency?

What was in them, cyanide?

No, that's the genius of it.

The capsule in this arm
contained pancuronium bromide,

which is a paralytic
used in executions.

But it was complexed
with an unnecessary protein,

rendering it inactive.

So in case the capsule
accidentally broke--

No, it wouldn't have
killed him, unless...

he broke the capsule

in this arm,
which contained an enzyme

that activated the paralytic.

So when these two compounds
mixed in his blood--

"Rendezvous with Death."

We never had
a chance to save him.

A hit man to the end.

He was willing to die
to protect his client.

(doors open)

Hey, has Chief Warrant
Officer Garza arrived?

Yeah, and he didn't have

any idea who would hire
a hit man to kill him.

But he did know
the first target,

Lieutenant Commander Willis.

Turns out they served together.

Why wasn't that in their file?

Because they served
on the Atlas.

I don't think
there's a ship called Atlas.

There is not.

But there is a train.

Wait, for real,
the Navy has a train now?

Well, technically, the Atlas is
a Department of Energy railcar.

Yeah, but Navy provides security
from the escort vehicle.

Security for what?

Uh, for what's
in there.

Several tons of
spent nuclear fuel.

Ah, top secret.

Explains why it wasn't
in their files.

Twice a year,

spent fuel
from nuclear-powered ships

is transported
across the country

to a storage facility
in Idaho.

Both Lieutenant Commander Willis
and Warrant Garza were

assigned to the train's
security detail.

And both were targeted
by a hit man.

Ah, this could be
a precursor to an attack

on the train
or an attempt to derail it.

Or even worse,

someone's trying
to steal its cargo.

Either way, we have to find out
when this train runs again

and whether these two targets
were assigned to it.

I couldn't agree more.

I'll call SECNAV
and the D.O.E.

Your team's sole
focus should be

ID'ing the client
who hired this hit man.

We need to find out
who's behind this.

You heard the deputy director.

Torres, Knight,
keep digging into Morton.

McGee, let's check in
with Kasie.

Oh!

Agent McGee.

Before you go...

dietary restrictions.

Excuse me?
For tomorrow night.

I'm thinking of making
a Coq au Vin.

How are you and Delilah
with mushrooms?

I'm sorry, what is happening
tomorrow night?

Oh.

Did your wife not tell you?

No.

Laroche invites us to dinner

at his place,
and you say yes?

Well, it would've been
awkward to say no.

Who cares?
Make an excuse.

I mean it would've been awkward
because dinner was my idea.

Gabe came down to Cyber
to check on my progress,

and we got to talking,
and, you know, one thing

led to another, and--
Okay, Delilah,
you realize that Laroche

is the last person I want
to have dinner with, right?

Well, good news:
it's not just with him.

It's also with his wife.

He told me all about her.

She's a neurosurgeon.

Tim, she sounds
brilliant.

She married Laroche.

Tim.

This dinner will be good
for you.

We're going.

Hey.
Oh, Agent Parker,
it's so lovely to see you.

Ah, been too long, Delilah.

How's it coming
with the anonymous tip?

I'm running it
through several

of my custom-built
decryption programs,

but they'll take some time.

And I need to get home
to the kids. (chuckles)

Ooh, we can't go tomorrow
if we don't have a babysitter.

Oh, well, I already
got that covered.

Don't stay too late.

It was a valiant effort.

Hey, Kase.

Perfect timing.

I think I got a lead
on The Poet's broker.

He had a broker?

Looks like he wanted a buffer
between himself

and the clients that hired him.

Any hit man worth
his salt's

gonna protect
his anonymity.

Exactly.
And The Poet was extra careful.

Even his dealings
with his broker,

they were all done remotely
via the dark web.

Is that where you found
the lead?

Uh, no, I followed the money.

I flagged all of the deposits
to The Poet's account

in the days
following his recorded kills.

One name stood out.

Gemma Wood.

She is a jeweler
in the Diamond District.

That's our broker.

She may know who our client is.

Well done, Kase.

Problem is,
if we move to arrest her,

what's to stop her from doing

what The Poet did?
(mimics slice)

Yeah, and even
if we do take her alive,

there's no guaranteeing
she's gonna talk to us.

But she might talk to The Poet.

Kase, The Poet's dead.

But the broker
doesn't know that.

(woman gasps)

Oh, my God!

Gemma! (exhales)

You always got
the best drip.

How much?

25...

but for you, 20.

(gasps)

(chuckles softly)

Always a pleasure, Miss Sharpe.

Ooh, samezies.

Bye.

Have a good day, miss.
You, too, baby.

(chuckles)

(buzzes)

Can I help you?

I'm here to see your boss.

Sorry,
we're by appointment only.

I'm sure she'll make
an exception for me.

And who the hell are you?

I'm The Poet.

KNIGHT:
I don't like this.

He's like a sitting duck
in that airlock.

He'll be fine.
Nick's played killers before.

Just give him a minute.

TORRES: No wire,
no weapons.

We need to talk.

Sir, I don't know
who you think I am.

Cut the crap!

Somebody burned me.

I had him in my sights
and then the Feds showed up.

Now the target
is on lockdown.

Yes, you do seem to have me
confused with someone else.

It's not just
my problem.

This is yours, too.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have
to ask you to leave.

Make me.

Go ahead and call the cops.

I don't need the police.

Yann.

Back up!

GEMMA:
Get rid of him.

(grunting)

You ready to talk now?

Let's take this into my office.

Shall we?

(buzzes)

Don't let anyone in.

Think you can manage that?

The Poet.

I must say, I wish you'd
shown your face earlier.

Along with the rest of you.

The client. Who is it?

Not so fast.

Anonymity works both ways.

I protect my contractors,

and I also protect my clients.

Well, you won't be able
to protect this one.

Not if they sold me out.

The client paid cash upfront
for this job.

Why would they sabotage it?

I don't know.

But you better hope it was them.

Because if it wasn't...

...then it had to be you.

(laughs)

If I wanted you dead,

I wouldn't hand you
to the Feds.

I'm not that stupid.

But Swole Patrol outside seems

like he has a couple
of brain cells missing.

Which is precisely
why I don't tell him anything.

Are you sure you were careful?

Somebody made a mistake.

And it wasn't me.

I need the client's name.

(intercom rings)

YANN: Hey, boss?
KNIGHT: Turning away a sale...

YANN:
Uh, sorry to bother you.

(Knight shouting)
Uh, there's a lady out here.

Get rid of her.

I'm trying,
but she won't go away!

I swear,
I'm gonna kill him someday.

Well, I'll do it for a discount.

(chuckles)

I'll be right back.

Knight.

KNIGHT: Your sign says
you're still open...

What are you doing here?

I have a ring to sell
before my ex-husband,

that's what he's gonna be--

(overlapping chatter continues)

(Knight continues shouting)
YANN: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

KNIGHT:
Because he doesn't deserve it!

Hey, I am not leaving
until I sell this ring, okay?

KNIGHT: Please!
Oh, come on, Knight.

Grow up.

...my sister!
Ma'am.

He already told you
we're closed.

Take your cheap ring and your
lazy sob story somewhere else.

I beg your pardon!
Leave!

Or I will make you leave.

(door closes)

This is going
on your Yelp review.

(buzzes)

(sighs)
Apologies.

Where were we?

Tell your client
that I want to meet.

You can reach me
at this number.

It's secure.

And if I can't convince
the client?

Well...
(taps glass)

You're gonna need
some thicker glass.

(buzzes)

Got it.

Thanks.

Ooh, thank you.

Okay, just got off the phone
with the agent

who's watching the jewelers,
and so far, no movement.

Tell me something
good, McGee.

I wish I could.

I've been watching this bug
for six hours, still nothing.

I'm telling you, Wood bought it.

She believed I was The Poet.

Then why hasn't she
contacted her client?

I don't know, maybe
somebody spooked her.

Me? I was just
doing my job.

And watching out
for my partner.

Oh, I don't need
watching out for.

Okay, but you did need help
planting that bug,

so you're welcome.

So what would be the plan
if you,

uh, if you were to be let in?

I mean, it's not like
you still have the, uh,

the engagement ring.

Aw.

You still have the ring
from our fake wedding?

Okay, calm down, okay,
it doesn't mean anything.

I just like it.

Hate to say it, but that is

technically NCIS property.

McGEE:
Don't let Laroche catch you
wearing that.

'Cause when he's not munching
mints, he's pinching pennies.

Well, speaking of Laroche,
you still

having dinner with him tonight?

Barring some unforeseen miracle.

Well, it's not a miracle,
but it's certainly unforeseen.

Well, I'll take it.

I've been doing a deep dive

into Gemma Wood's
business accounts,

seeing as it's a front
for hiring contact killers.

I found a customer
who spends

a suspicious amount of money
buying diamonds.

So maybe not
just buying diamonds?

You think that's
the client we're looking for?

Well, I can't prove it yet,

but given this customer's
history with Parker...

Me? Who are we talking about?

Your nemesis from your FBI days.

VANCE:
Carla Marino.

So you're saying
the Kansas City mob ordered hits

on two U.S. Naval officers?

I'm saying
it's possible.

It's also possible that Carla

was really just buying diamonds.

From a jeweler
1,000 miles from Kansas City

who just happens to work
with contract killers?

That's a hell of a coincidence.

I agree. The problem is,
it's all circumstantial.

It's also not her style.

Carla Marino deals
in drugs and weapons,

not nuclear fuel.

Why would she be interested
in the Atlas train?

I don't know.

It runs right
through her backyard.

Another coincidence.

One too many for me.

As soon as we get the evidence,

I'm on the first flight
to Kansas City.

(knocking)

Yeah, come in.

Sorry to interrupt.

You got something?

Uh, nothing good.

Gemma Wood left the store
15 minutes ago.

The agent lost her.

And that's not all.

The bug that Nick planted,
it stopped transmitting.

We think that Wood
might've found it.

Go kick down that door.

Agent McGee.

Don't you have a dinner
with Deputy Director Laroche?

Oh, yeah, but I,
I can postpone that.

No, no,
Laroche has been coordinating

with the D.O.E.
about the Atlas train.

You two can trade updates
over the amuse-bouche.

Director.

Um...

I'm on it.

(alarm blaring)

NCIS!

Clear.

Security guard's dead.

(alarm continues blaring)

KNIGHT: I got the alarm.
(alarm stops)

TORRES:
Clear.

All clear!

Her computer's gone.

Well, that explains
why the bug stopped working.

I don't get it, man.

I'm telling you
she bought the act.

KNIGHT: Well, it
doesn't look like it.

Good thing I was watching
your back earlier today.

This one over here.
(laughs)

All right,
let's start looking for anything

that might tie her
to Carla Marino.

Yo, yo, yo, yo,
hold on, hold on.

What?

TORRES:
What's behind safe number two?

We've made incredible
advances recently

with bio-compatible devices.

I was reading about that! So you

can actually--
thank you-- use AI

to decode the brain's messages?

TAMMY:
And bypass
the spinal compression

using
a wireless implant.

DELILAH:
That's incredible.

I just, I admire
what you do so much.

It's still early, but...

the results have been
very encouraging.

(clears throat)
Tammy is being

modest.

The way she's going,
she's going to have her patients

tap-dancing by 2030.

The only question is...

does the world need
more tap dancers?

(both laughing)

Honey, he's joking.

LAROCHE:
Oh.

I didn't realize. Do you...?

Yeah, I tap-dance.

So do I.
Gabe.

Oh, okay, okay,
I know it's not the same thing.

(clears throat)
I'm, um, talking about

the political tap dance.

Sorry, the what?

It's what I call what I do.

To get what you want
in this town,

sometimes you have
to equivocate.

Tell someone one thing

while telling someone else
the opposite.

It's...

how I get things done.

Sounds a lot like lying to me.

Well...

the job isn't for everyone.

How about I open
another bottle?
Yes.

(phone ringing)

Um, I got
to get this.

One second. Sorry.
Mm-hmm.

This is so good...

(continues indistinctly)

LAROCHE: Ladies!
Parker, hey.

You still at Laroche's?

Uh, yeah, but I can leave
if you need me to.

No, stay there.

We found evidence
the hit man had another target.

Who?

Deputy Director Laroche.

(cork pops)
And voilà.

Oh, I understand, Agent McGee.

You think someone wants me dead.

Yes, which is why we need to get
you back to NCIS for protection.

From what?

Thought the hit man
killed himself

in the interrogation room.

Yeah...
Then who exactly

are you protecting me from?

It's a precaution.
Mm.

Exactly.

A precaution that can wait
until after dinner.

Dinner is not important
right now, sir.

You're right.

But what is important

is not scaring my wife
unnecessarily.

Your team found
some photos in a safe.

But the truth is, you can't say
for sure what those photos are.

We are still investigating.

So until we know more,

there's no sense in panicking.

Besides, I have
all the protection

I need right here.

You.

Listen, Deputy Director--

That's right.

I am the deputy director,
Agent McGee.

Understood?

Shall we?

Le Coq au Vin est prêt.

Diamonds may be a girl's
best friend,

but for this guy, they were
definitely his worst enemy.

This wasn't a robbery, Jimmy.

He wasn't killed over diamonds.

JIMMY:
No, he was killed by them.

Not only was this saw blade
the murder weapon,

it was also diamond-tipped.

Jewelers use it
to cut gemstones.

I guess Wood found
another use for it?

Bad news.

Security cameras
have been wiped.

And we haven't found anything
connecting Wood to Carla Marino.

(sighs)
It doesn't make any sense.

Why would Carla
want Laroche dead?

Well, the two other targets had
connections to the Atlas train.

Maybe Laroche has one, too.

Why do I get the feeling
he wouldn't tell us if he did?

You think that McGee was right
about Laroche all along?

Maybe Laroche is
hiding something.

Start digging. Find it.

Who's ready for dessert?

DELILAH:
Definitely.

I made lemon soufflé.

Pairs great with
raspberry sauce.
Yes, it does.

LAROCHE:
We'll just clear these plates.
Excuse me.

Thank you.
McGEE: Thank you.

Yes, of course.

(chuckles softly)

What is going on
with you?

Nothing.

Timothy Farragut McGee,

we do not keep secrets
in this family.

Okay.

Laroche may have been
the hit man's next target.

Oh, my God!

Good thing he's dead.

Yeah, but I think
Laroche is lying

about knowing
why he's the target.

Oh, here we go.

No, look, this--
Delilah, this is different.

Okay? Listen to me.

Laroche, he took special
interest in this case.

And now that
he's a target,

I'm starting
to understand why.

Now, he's got
an office over there

right across
from the bathroom.

If I could get in there,
take a look around...

That's crazy.

He's your boss.

And we're
his dinner guests.

I know, I understand.

I know I could get caught,
I could get fired.

Exactly.

Which is why
you're going to need

a really good excuse.

Ow! What are you doing?

Oh!

You better go clean up.

I love you.

I know.

Ooh.

Tell me you got something.

Oh, we got two somethings.

Especially after
16 phone calls.

TORRES: 17 if you count
the last one from Vance.

He was angry.
Mm-hmm.

So the D.O.E. finally
sent over the records

for the Atlas train's
security protocols.

It turns out,
those protocols are set

by a top secret
board of directors.

Makes sense.

What doesn't make sense
is the fact

that Laroche failed to mention

that he is
on that board of directors.

He also failed to mention
that he was there

for a mishap drill
a few months ago.

During these drills,
the Navy simulates

a disaster scenario
with the train.

And check out
where the drill took place.

It doesn't directly
connect us to Carla, but--

We're getting closer.

(phone chimes)

Oh, we're also getting
closer to Gemma Wood.

TSA just flagged
this passport.

She's trying to board

a plane to the Bahamas.

Let's go.

(grunts)

Raspberry can stain.

Maybe I should offer him
a pair of my pants.

I'm sure he's fine.
(chuckles softly)
Mm.

I'm gonna go check on him.

Oh. Please!

Don't trouble yourself.

Oh.
You are our guest.

Okay.
I'll be right back.

♪ ♪

Agent McGee?

You okay in there?

Agent McGee?

Find anything interesting?

Oh, just these.

My phone records.

My bank records.

You keeping tabs on me?

Only because you've
been keeping tabs on me.

Pulling my files,

tracking
my keycard access.

Why don't you like me,

Agent McGee?

Is it because I got
the job and you didn't?

I don't have a problem
with you getting the job.

I like my job.

Then what is it?

You clearly have
a problem with me.

Why can't you
just say it to my face?

I don't trust you.

And I think you know why.

No. I don't.

You were the only one that knew
that Torres was undercover

with the Nexus cartel last year.

Wait.

You think I burned him?

Who else?

What kind of person
do you think I am?

I think you're the kind
of person that lies

to get what you want.

Parker texted me. How
come you never told us

you were head of security
for the Atlas train?

Come on!
I think you know why.

Anything...

related to the Navy's
nuclear propulsion program

is top secret.

I couldn't even tell
Director Vance.

I'm disappointed in you,
Agent McGee. I really am.

I thought you were better
than this, but...

turns out
you're just a sore loser.

(knocking on door)

You boys doing okay?

All good, babe.

Just a little shop talk.

But we're done now.

Aren't we, Agent McGee?

(door opens)
(sighs)

(chuckles softly)

I should have known
you were playing me.

You're obviously not a poet.

Well, roses are red,
violets are blue,

criminals go to prison,
and that includes you.

For murder.

For conspiracy to commit murder.

And--
oh, look at that--

more murder.

That wasn't me.

I left the store, and when
I came back, I found him dead.

Then you tried
to flee the country.

Damn right I did.

This was a message.

To find better help?

You don't understand
how this world works.

Fail once
and you're out of the game.

Permanently.

The Poet failed.

Which means you failed.

The client must have found out.

And now they're cleaning house.

Who is the client?

You're asking
the wrong question.

If The Poet failed

and I'm in here,

it means the client hired
someone new to clean house.

You mean another hit man?

Someone to eliminate
the middleman

and any outstanding
targets.

The hit is still active.

And failure is not an option.

Local PD's been dispatched.

Torres and Knight
are on their way to you now,

but don't wait for 'em.
No, we won't.

We'll head back
to NCIS right away.

Uh, actually, Agent Parker,

I would prefer
to wait for backup.

Frankly, I'm not sure
that Agent McGee is capable

of putting aside
his personal feelings about me.

Well, given
he hasn't shot you himself,

I'd say he's shown
remarkable restraint.

This is hardly

the time for jokes,
Agent Parker.

There is an active threat.

Which is why you are going to do

exactly what Agent McGee
tells you to do

when he tells you to do it.

He's in charge now.
(line clicks)

TAMMY:
Gabe.

Is it true? Is somebody
trying to kill you?

She had a right to know.

LAROCHE:
It'll be fine.

Help is on the way.

I'm not gonna let anything
happen to him, okay?

I'm a federal agent.
I'm always armed.

You brought a gun
into my house?

Right now, I need
you both to pack a bag.

Five minutes, we're
on the road back to NCIS.

Oh, my God,
this is really happening.

I'll help you.

Okay.

That was a gun safe I saw
in your office, yeah?

You mean when you were
snooping behind my back?

Professional killer's
gonna have body armor.

We need to gear up.

(sighs)

Why does Carla
Marino want to kill

the deputy director of NCIS?

I don't know
what you're talking about.

She's one of
your clients.

She spent tens of thousands
of dollars at your shop.

On jewelry, not contract kills.
You expect me

to believe that?

(exhales)

You're afraid of her.

More than you, apparently.

Which makes me the smart one.

The smart move would be to
let us protect you from her.

She's not the one after me.

She's not the client?

Not the one you're looking for.

Then who wants Laroche dead?

(sighs)

I don't know a name.

Just a face
that came into my store.

He was new,

and he wasn't
from Kansas City.

How do you know?

He had a tattoo.

One I recognized.

Draw it.

(beeping)

(buzzes)

Okay, have you tried
your wife's birthday?

Yes. Forward
and backward.

(beeping, buzzes)

Do you have
any nieces or nephews?

(sighs)
Nine of them.

All right, we're ready to go.

Do you remember
the code to the gun safe?

Isn't it my birthday?
(siren approaching)

Well, good news is, I'm pretty
sure the police will have guns.

Thank God.

(gunshots)

(Delilah gasps)

Tim! The hit man's here.

Get away from the window.

(breathing heavily)

Oh, no.

I can't get a call out.

They're using a signal blocker.

Tim!

There's a room
down the hall.

No windows.

McGEE:
All right, everyone, let's go.

Deputy Director, come on.
We got to go.

Hit man's after me.

Which means anyone
that I'm with is also in danger.

You-you should get out of here,
McGee.

It's my job to protect you.

Even if I don't deserve it?

W-We don't have time
for this right now.

You were supposed to get

the deputy director job,

not me.

And then SECNAV received
a report about NCIS.

A report I wrote.

What are you talking about?

It advocated a shake-up.

It criticized NCIS
for being too close-knit,

for acting more like a...

family

than a federal agency.

But that's not a bad thing.

I know that now.

Please.

I will, uh...
I'll get in my car.

I'll draw them away.

No. No, no, no.

They are not going to stop
until I'm dead.

I can't tap-dance
my way out of this one.

What if we could?

LAROCHE:
You don't have to do this!
McGEE: Shut up.

LAROCHE: We can work this out.
McGEE: I said,
keep your mouth shut!

No, please!

You're late.

This contract's been fulfilled.

So you're The Poet.

The client warned me
you might still be on the job.

Let me guess-- they told you
to clean up loose ends?

Told me the same thing.

(laughs)

Interesting.

So how do we play this?

We have two options.

One, we both walk away.

Two, only I walk away.

Oh, I think
there's a third option.

KNIGHT:
Freeze.

Federal agents.

Do not move.

(handcuffs clicking)

Hey, Deputy Director.

(groans)

(strained):
Is it over?

(groans)
Being dead hurts like hell.

(groans)

(grunts)
No, you're fine.

You're covered
in raspberry sauce,

but looks like the vest
caught the bullets.
(grunts)

Best gift ever.
(groans)

Director Vance gave it to me
when I got the job.

Said I might need it someday.

I thought he was joking.

No. He was just looking out
for his family.

(sighs)

Thank you.

One of my agents shot
the deputy director.

Not sure how I'm gonna
explain this to SECNAV.

Simple--

McGee was buying time and
he saved Laroche's life.

For now.

But our hit woman
still isn't talking,

and we still don't know
who wants Laroche dead.

Until we do,
I've assigned agents

to protect him at all times.

Good idea. Because I think
I may know who's behind this.

Gemma Wood said that the
client's rep had a tattoo.

You recognize it?

It's Nexus cartel.

I thought we took them
down last year.

Looks like they're back
and they're planning something.

Well, whatever it is,

D.O.E. suspended nuclear
fuel shipments aboard the Atlas,

and they've also changed
all security protocols.

I wish I could say that
puts an end to all this.

VANCE: But we still don't know
how Carla's connected.

For now.
Mm.

Oh! Man!

I'm so glad that
you're still alive.

Thanks, Kase. Me, too.

You shot Laroche?

Bet that felt
pretty good, huh?

(exhales)

I can't get him
to admit it either.

I'll admit to one thing.

Dinner was a good idea.

Laroche and I finally
cleared the air.

Good to know, but not why
I invited you down here, okay?

'Cause it turns out
that your genius of a wife's

decryption program
spit out a real whopper.

The tip that led us to The Poet.

Were you able
to trace it back to the sender?

Not exactly, but I was able
to trace the VPN exit node.

(keys clacking)

The code structure
looks unfamiliar.

Well, that's because it wasn't
sent from a typical VPN.

It was sent from a
government server.

Specifically,

a DoD-created server
called Nocturne.

This tip about the hit man
came from inside the government.

That's crazy, right?

There he is.

(chuckles)

Uh, don't worry, boys.

I don't think Agent
McGee is gonna shoot me.

Again.
(chuckles)

I wanted to stop by

and thank you again

for saving my life.

I hope this means
that we've, uh...

finally put
our differences behind us?

Nocturne.

I'm sorry.

I don't know what that means.

Oh, I think you do.

That sounds like a threat.

It's a warning.

I'm coming for you.

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