All language subtitles for Hung.S01E02.DL

Jimmy. Jimmy.

Stop! I said no!

God!

I sat my sorry ass on a torn-up bus
for three hours to hook up with you.

If you only came to hook up,

then you should've just stayed
in Charlottesville.

Come on.

You know I love you.

- Come here. Come on.
- Jimmy.

- Come on. Come on!
- Stop! Stop it or I'll scream!

Everyone is intimidated by a shark. Become
a Card Shark AMERICASCARDROOM.COM

- Don't you lock the door?
- Nope.

I got a call. Quantico.
Marine got killed in an exercise.

How?

Night training jump.
The guy's chute didn't open.

This a boat?

His reserve chute fail, too?

I don't know. I tried your cell.

Tried your hard line, too.

Don't ask.

You know, my dad gave me
a power sander for my birthday.

I don't really power sand much.
You're welcome to it.

Aside from that bare bulb there
and the plug going to that idiot box,

you see a power cord
around here anywhere?

You use hand tools, huh?

I use my hands. Did you call Ducky?

- Not yet.
- Give me your cell.

- Coming, DiNozzo?
- He's a weirdo.

Yeah. I got the... Light.

He impaled an SUV?

- Like he was laser-guided, sir.
- Where are the other jumpers?

Over there, sir.
They landed in the drop zone,

400 metres north of the road.

Just one stick?

Yes, sir. I guess the jumpmaster
held the others back

when the victim's chute didn't open.

Did you secure the paraloft
and the aircraft?

Yes, sir. I also have the Marines

who didn't make the jump
under guard at the hangar.

Yeah, put them with the others.
Let's keep 'em all separated.

- Yes, sir.
- Oh, my God.

- These the witnesses?
- Yes, sir.

My dad's gonna kill me!

He's on duty and he doesn't know
that I took his SUV.

- So your dad's a Marine?
- Yes, sir.

Master Sergeant Tom Schaefer, sir.
He's a TI at Quantico.

- Your dad a Marine, too?
- No way.

You cold, Sarah?

A little.

How you doing?

Thanks.

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Special Agent Gibbs.
Special Agent DiNozzo. NCIS.

- Wanna tell us what happened?
- We were parked and...

We were hanging out and
listening to Dashboard Confessional.

What?

- Emo.
- Emo?

Emotional music.
You got to get a radio, Gibbs.

Okay, so you were listening
to music and...

- He smashed through the roof.
- And wham, pow, blood everywhere.

I screamed and we ran out for help.

I met them about a click down the road
on our way to the scene.

I felt bad for leaving him there.

- He was alive?
- I heard him groan.

- It was a death rattle.
- You ever hear a death rattle?

I was using that as a trope.

- A what?
- A trope.

A figurative use of expression.

Yeah. Call her dad.
Have him pick her up.

Does that mean I get to go?

Not until after
Master Sergeant Schaefer gets here.

I'm sure he's gonna have
a trope or two for you.

- Ducky's here.
- And on a ladder. I'll get the monopod.

The last time I was up this high

I was hanging a pi�ata
at my nephew's birthday party.

What have we got, Duck?

Abrasions.

The tree must have slowed him a bit.

Purple discolouration,
neck's broken, I'd say.

It's hardly surprising
given the rapid descent

followed by
the equally rapid deceleration.

Witnesses over there said that
he groaned after he decelerated.

It's possible.
I won't know till I do the autopsy.

Looks like a number
of his shroud lines failed.

Enough of those go,
chute doesn't catch air,

it tootsie-rolls,
let's you down like a Roman candle.

- Were they cut?
- No, they look worn.

Still got his reserve chute on.
Why didn't he pull it?

Hey. Look who I found.
MP's weren't gonna let her pass.

I got my sig and badge
but HQ didn't issue my photo ID.

- God! Is this for real?
- Unfortunately, my dear, it is.

- Put 'em on.
- Your first crime scene with us, Caitlin.

What about Air Force One?

It doesn't count.
You were in the Secret Service.

Tony, take a team photo for posterity.

Forget posterity.

The sun's gonna be up soon.

Welcome to NCIS.

How did you know my size?

Put 'em on.
You can't work a field in high heels.

Depends on
the kind of work you're doing.

Your mind, DiNozzo,
runs the gamut from "X" to "XXX."

- Yeah?
- Photos, Tony.

Yeah. Ducky?

Why would Gibbs rip his hard line out

and dunk his cell phone
in a jar of paint thinner?

- Oh, dear.
- What?

I should have realised the time of year.

- It's his anniversary.
- Which marriage?

The last one, of course.

Isn't it always?

Ducky, I'm not following.

Every year, ex-wife number 3
gets drunk on their anniversary

and calls him. Repeatedly.

Why doesn't he change his number?

I have no idea.
In case you haven't noticed,

Gibbs is a man
of more questions than answers.

Thanks, DiNozzo.

You could be
the NCIS poster girl in that outfit.

You JAG or NCIS?

Do I look like a lawyer?

Word's all over the base by now.
My men can't even call their family

and let them know
that they're not the one who died.

- Was Sergeant Fuentes married?
- He has a wife and son.

Notification detail should be there
to talk to her by now.

Word will get out who was killed.

Sergeant Fuentes was
under my command. I'd like to see her.

After we finish questioning
you and your men.

- How long is that gonna take?
- I don't know.

These men have another jump at 2100.

They're jumping again tonight?

We don't stop for casualties
in war, miss. Neither do we in training.

Not true, Captain.

They don't jump off a lower bunk
until we find out what happened.

I don't take orders from NCIS cops.

Special agents.
And you'll follow this order.

Or what, Special Agent?

I don't take orders
from your boss, either.

I'm not calling my boss.
I'm calling yours.

Commandant May?

Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.

I don't have a commandant
of the Marine Corps on my speed dial.

The captain didn't know that.

All right, DiNozzo, shoot and sketch.
Especially the static lines.

Kate and I will start the interrogation.

Jumping's got to be so cool.

You wanna play paratrooper? Pay $180.

Take your class
like all those other weekend warriors.

Yeah, I have so many weekends free.

Sergeant Fuentes lead your stick?

Yes, sir. I was number two,
Ramsey was three, Brinkman four.

First stick, you're up!
Fuentes, look sharp!

Dafelmair, Ramsey, Brinkman.
Keep it tight.

- Aye, aye, sir.
- Stand by.

Go! Go! Go!

After my chute deployed,
I looked around.

I saw Brinkman's chute open above me.

When I looked down,
I only saw one canopy below.

I didn't know if it was, Paul or Thumper.

- Thumper?
- That's what we called Fuentes, ma'am.

It sounds crazy now, but he was
the squad's good luck guy, ma'am.

- He was a walking rabbit's foot.
- Thumper.

Yes, ma'am.
He always seemed to dodge the bullets.

- We could tell you a million stories.
- Why don't you tell us just one?

Well, sir. He bought himself
a new bike last week.

Car ran a red light, he went over it
into a plate glass window.

Dinged his collarbone a little.
Other than that, not a scratch.

Dinged it a little?

A day or two, he was fine, sir.

Who reached him first?

I did, sir. I saw him Roman candle
short of the field.

As soon as I got out of my harness,
I took off to find him.

You two?

I hung up in a tree.
Dave gave me a hand.

Saw Paul yelling. We joined him.

I can't believe the way that
Thumper died. It was like a bad movie.

Was he dead when you reached him,
Corporal Dafelmair?

Yes, sir. He died on impact.

I'm sure. Well, at least I hope he did.

Why didn't he pull his reserve?

Jumping from 1,300 feet,
your main fails,

you have three, maybe four seconds
to react, ma'am.

Okay, each of you need to prepare
a statement detailing what you saw.

Yes, sir.

No, no. Leave 'em.
Your gear is ours now.

What'd you get out of that?

- He didn't have time to pop his reserve.
- Why not?

Obviously, his reaction time
was too slow.

Nuts.

Dinged collarbone.

Injured clavicle hurts like hell.

Takes more than
a couple of days to heal.

Do you think
Corporal Dafelmair was lying?

He was if he knew that Thumper was
taking painkillers so he could jump.

That's stupid.

No, that's a Marine.

Our victim sustained a broken neck

crushed vertebrae, multiple
leg fractures, a shattered pelvis...

What about his clavicle?

With all this massive skeletal damage,
you're curious about his clavicle?

Humour me.

Well, how did you know?

There's a fine hairline fracture
on the left clavicle.

- Which he...
- Incurred recently, but not last night.

No, it's begun to mend.

You two are beginning to scare me.

Ducky, would that fracture
pain him much?

Nothing too severe.

But, of course,
the shock of a parachute opening

would have hurt like blazes.

How did you know?

The girl in the SUV
said she heard him moan.

Was he alive after impact?

Briefly.

Not too close, Caitlin.
I'll put it on the monitor.

Yeah, he most certainly would have died
of massive trauma,

but the technical cause of death

was severing of the femoral artery.

Yes, our young Marine bled to death.

What happened to
the "Sad End to a Drano Drinker"?

I did a new one.

Art can't stand still, Tony.

It was my favourite.
So, what's the new one?

Self-inflicted gunshot wound
to the abdomen.

Of course.

I'm gonna call it "Blast from the Future".

I figure with my
shotgun-shattered backbone,

I've got, like, a Chagall feeling going on.

- In a Manson Family way.
- Yeah.

- Abby, you have my tox screen results?
- Yep, right over here.

The victim tested positive
for Percocet and Vicodin.

- Double your pleasure.
- Double your fun.

What kind of levels?

0.17. He was slow-juiced,
like a koala bear.

My guess is that he popped it
right before he dropped.

The Marines we questioned
in his string probably knew.

- Why didn't they tell us?
- Semper Fi.

You rat, you fry.

Sorry.

Was his reserve chute okay?

Yeah, it was perfect.
All he had to do was pop it.

Well, he might have
if his reflexes weren't slowed by opioids.

Opioids?

General term for opiates
and synthetic analgesics.

- Go, Kate.
- You sure you were a Baltimore cop?

Okay, he was too juiced
to pop his reserve.

Maybe. Maybe not.

You pump adrenaline when you jump.
Your main chute doesn't open,

it would really kick into high gear.

Gibbs, if he had
the reflexes to use it, why didn't he?

I don't know.

What did you find
from the shroud lines of his main chute?

Fibre disintegration.
But not from textile fatigue.

It's fluorescing
as some sort of cleansing agent

but that didn't cause
this kind of damage.

Edges look melted.

I haven't tagged it yet,
but it was definitely an acid

that shredded the lines holding
300 pounds of a jumping Marine.

How long to find the acid
and check out the rest of those chutes?

- I'm flying solo, so at least a day.
- Go faster if you had an assistant?

- Definitely.
- Okay. You got the job.

I get to do forensics?

No, you get to schlep for Abby.
She gets to do forensics.

Why didn't you tell us
you were a rigger, Corporal?

Thought you knew, sir.

Did you?

What's next?

Sign the log
and stick it in the chute pocket.

Same signature.

That was the log from Thumper's chute,
wasn't it, sir?

Yeah. You packed it.

Sir, I didn't know
he'd get one that I packed.

The chutes are handed out randomly,
even when we jump.

- Riggers usually go on jumps?
- On training runs, yes, sir.

How many riggers jumped last night?

Corporal Ramsey,
Brinkman, and Thumper, of course.

- He was senior rigger.
- Figure we knew that, too?

- Sir, we weren't trying to hide anything.
- Like hell you weren't, Corporal.

You all knew Thumper was using
painkillers for that dinged collarbone.

He died 'cause
he was too juiced to pull his reserve.

Sir, there is no way
for anyone to sabotage a chute

and count on it
getting to a specific jumper.

- All those chutes packed here?
- Yes, sir.

We prepped them at 0900.

Put 'em on the trucks
for the jump at 1800.

They were here for nine hours,
unattended?

- Under lock and key, sir.
- Who's got the key?

Captain Faul and Thumper,
as senior rigger, both have keys.

You had a criminal record
before entering the Corps, Corporal.

- I made a few mistakes, sir.
- Shoplifting.

- Drug possession?
- That was a long time ago, sir.

- Three years. Not so long.
- Look, sir, you have my file.

You know the judge
gave me a choice, prison or the service.

The Corps gave me
a second chance, sir.

And I would never do anything to hurt it
or one of my brother Marines.

Never, sir.

Carl Sagan time.

Sulphuric acid. That would
chew the shine off a trailer hitch.

How'd you get into this?

- Filled out an application.
- I mean forensics.

When I was a kid, we lived near this lot

where they brought all the burned-out
hulks from the gnarliest car wrecks.

I used to sneak in there
at night and take pictures.

It wasn't about the gore. It was about
figuring out how things happened.

You know, like action, reaction,
and the science of the whole thing.

I got hooked. How about you?

Actually, I wanted to be a lawyer.

I did a year in law school.
It felt like 10 years in prison.

With really boring inmates?

Admit it, you just like
strapping on a gun.

- More than one.
- Really?

You're packing more heat
than meets the eye?

- Those your only tattoos?
- You show me yours, I'll show you mine.

Go!

- You ever jump?
- When I get an electric shock.

Explains the lack of power tools.

- You gonna do it?
- What?

Spend a $180 to defy gravity?

- Yeah, I think I am.
- Agent Gibbs.

This came for you, sir.
I just missed you at the paraloft.

- Thank you, Lance Corporal.
- Yes, sir.

- Who's it from?
- Ducky.

"Jethro, the bean counters couldn't
find you, so they gave this to me.

"I suggest you read
the instructions on call-blocking."

That addressed to you?

It works.

Gibbs.

Yeah. I can be there in 20.

You know, some of these guys
freeze on their first jump.

Have to be kicked
in the ass to get 'em out.

- Not me.
- No.

You fall in the category
"I want a kick in the ass on the ground."

Go!

- Very Electric Kool-Aid, Abby.
- I was thinking more Blue Man Group.

Sergeant Fuentes' chute
wasn't the only one tampered with.

- How many?
- Nine out of 16.

Log book signatures
show different riggers packed the lot.

How many
did Corporal Dafelmair pack?

Four. The rest were packed by
Corporal Brinkman

and Sergeant Fuentes.

- Corporal Ramsey didn't pack any?
- Nope.

When his signature
didn't show up on a single chute

I called Captain Faul.

He put Corporal Ramsey on a two-week
rigging suspension for sloppy work.

And guess who wrote him up
for that sloppy work?

Senior rigger, Sergeant Fuentes.

We got motive.

We have more than that.
Kate and I have a theory.

- Why didn't you take to me this fast?
- You're like a piercing, Tony.

It takes a while for the throbbing to stop
and the skin to grow back.

- That's more than I wanted to know.
- What's the theory?

Okay, every time you lace up your Docs
or cinch your laundry bag

you leave some skin cells behind.

It's the same with a parachute rigging.

I pulled skin samples from
the deployment bags

of the chutes that were futzed with.

Did you get a DNA signature?

All nine knots had a number of
different sets of skin samples

but there's only one set
that's common to all nine.

The saboteur.

Our riggers of record
packed the chutes.

Then someone came in and repacked
them, leaving some skin behind.

Corporal Ramsey.

Well, depending on how much
he knows about forensics

he's either very smart or very dumb.

There's got to be other chutes
that Corporal Ramsey packed

in the paraloft inventory for comparison.

Negatory. I checked. They were all
packed since he's been suspended.

There's an armed forces' DNA Registry.

All military personnel
are on record, right?

Yeah.

Then we got our guy.

No. All we've got is a pile of dead skin.

The only thing you can use the
DNA Registry for is to identify a body.

There has to be a way around that.

See? Now you're thinking like
an NCIS agent.

We know that nine parachutes
were rigged to fail.

The killer doctored them
and repacked them.

Sergeant Fuentes died
as a result of that.

That's premeditated murder.

I'm sold.

If I'm on the jury, you got my vote.

We found DNA evidence
on the chute deployment bag knots.

Belonging to your suspect?

We believe so. To be certain, we have
to access the Armed Forces Registry.

That's impossible.

The Registry was set up to identify
remains only. He knows that.

I do?

He tried to use it when he went after
Commander Rabb for murder.

He get him?

No, because he wasn't guilty.

You couldn't use the DNA Registry then.

What makes you think
you can use it now?

You, Lieutenant.

You're a smart lawyer
and you know the law.

I know why I'm here.

I hope so. I requested you.

Yeah, you requested me
because you think you can work me

like you did last time,
when I ratted out Commander Rabb.

You did not rat on anyone.
You told the truth.

I gave my uniform an extra lint roll
this morning, Agent Gibbs.

And you waltzing around
in my blind spot,

not gonna intimidate me this time.

We're at 24 hours now,
and soon it's gonna be 48.

You've done investigations,
you know what that means.

I've done Jagman investigations.

Sure, at 48 hours your evidence begins
to degrade, disappear.

Witnesses change their stories,
suspects improve theirs. I know.

- So help us.
- No!

You're not gonna get me to lawyer you
past an iron-clad prohibition

that prevents tapping into DNA records

that were designed to identify bodies,
not chase suspects.

This guy is guilty. He killed him.

Let him drop to his death
from 1,300 feet.

- It doesn't matter.
- For every legal firewall

there is a way around it.

I can't help you.

And can I please have my pen back?

Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure you can.
You're gonna need it.

Because if I can't have my DNA

I'm gonna need some
search authorisations signed.

You knew Lieutenant Roberts
wasn't going to lawyer us

access to the military DNA database.

- Did I?
- You did.

So why go through the exercise?

Kate, I come from a long line
of horse traders.

First rule, you pick
the best horse in the barn

and you work the deal until it bursts.

That way, when you go
for the second-best nag,

you get her for a song.

- The search authorisation.
- We didn't have probable cause,

but the lieutenant,
he's a man who aims to please.

You never work the system
when you can work the people.

Did any of those horse traders
you come from get hung?

Yeah. A few.

Did you find out what Ramsey
was written up for?

Yeah. Frayed lines, bent cones,
cuts in the canopy.

I'll tell you, I hope this guy isn't going
to medical school at night.

- Yeah, scuttlebutt is...
- Scuttlebutt?

That's Marine for water-cooler gossip.

The scuttlebutt is
that Ramsey took a swing at Thumper

for getting him suspended.

"Identity withheld."

Probably the reason you married her.

I mean, she probably hid
her real personality, as most women do,

and, by that time,
it was too late 'cause you'd already...

I'm gonna shut up now.

Now?

Did you really just say
"as most women do"?

Meet me at the paraloft at 1400.
I'll execute our search authorisations

to go through the riggers' lockers.

- That's 2:00 Secret Service time, Kate.
- We used Zulu time, Tony.

- Zulu time. Yeah, that would be...
- 1900.

I knew that.

Hey. Can I come up?

Do I need a password?

Maybe I'll just come up a little.

You really should have a password.

Why?

It's never gonna be finished.

My dad's dead.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

Who are you?

I'm Jethro Gibbs.

NCIS.

I don't have time to answer questions.
We're on our way to the funeral.

- I'm not here to ask questions.
- Then why are you here?

- He says I need a password, mom.
- What?

I told him a tree house
should have a password.

Yeah, Larry was building that for him.

Doing a good job.

Larry was a good man.

A good husband and a good father.

Good Marine.

There are rumours
that his death wasn't an accident.

Whatever happened, Mrs Fuentes,

I'll find who's responsible.

Billy, we have to go.

Look at you.

Dusty. Come here. Your hair's a mess.

Where's your combs?

Larry always told him to carry a comb.

Like JFK. Whoever he is.

He was a Navy guy.
Like your dad was a Marine.

Navy guys and Marines,
they always look their best.

Your dad would want you
to look your best today for him.

I don't want the Marines
at the funeral to see me cry.

Never be ashamed of tears, bud.

- Marines don't cry.
- Yeah, they do.

At JFK's funeral,
his son saluted the coffin.

You know how to salute?

Perfect.

You salute your dad today.

Nobody'll notice tears.

We have to go.

I believe you'll get whoever did this.

You have my word.

Got to keep your feet together,
cushion the impact.

That's it?

You signed the release
to notify next of kin, right?

Just don't say "break a leg".

All right.

- How was that?
- Very ladylike.

DiNozzo, what are you doing?

I'm just doing a little research for Abby.

For Abby?

Well, maybe I'm serving two masters.

You're serving one now.

- How'd you get into NCIS?
- I smiled.

I had the riggers' lockers sealed
immediately after the incident, sir.

Keys.

Got something.

- Brass-stripper solvent.
- Read the contents.

"Contains petroleum distillant,
ammonia, and sulphuric acid.

"Harmful if swallowed."
Or applied to shroud lines.

Ramsey's locker.

That stuff's not mine.

Sergeant Nutt,
place the corporal in custody.

Tony, read 'em.

"You have the right to remain silent
and make no statement at all.

"Any statement that you make

"can be used against you
in a trial or court-martial..."

Scuttlebutt has it that you and Thumper
mixed it up in the paraloft.

We exchanged words, sir.

And fists.

A punch or two was thrown.
Nothing serious.

But I damn sure wasn't
angry enough to kill him, sir.

Well, maybe you only meant
to scare him.

But Thumper was on pain killers
and didn't have time to pull his reserve.

I didn't touch his chute, sir.
How could I?

I'm on suspension
and the paraloft is under lock and key.

What'd you find?

Hardware store
where our guy did one-stop shopping.

Clerk's pretty fuzzy.
He does remember a Marine

in a real hurry to copy a key.

All you needed was a key

like this one.

I found this in Thumper's
personal effects.

If that's the paraloft key, you won't find
one like that on my key chain.

I've messed up some rigging, sir,
but never intentionally.

A guy jumps with one of my chutes,
he puts his life in my hands.

- I'd never breach that trust, sir. Never.
- Now,

are you gonna tell me
that was a plant, too?

It had to be. I'm not guilty, sir.

They're always so sincere
when they say that.

What if I was to give you an offer
to prove that?

Anything, sir.

You'd be willing to give us
a sample of your DNA?

Someone put that box in my locker
and that key on my keychain.

How do I know that
you don't have my DNA

on something else they planted, too?

You don't.

DiNozzo, where'd you learn
how to write? China?

I'd say Egypt. Looks
more like hieroglyphics.

Hey! You were in a rush to read it.

My mistake.

Are those the interviews
with the Marines that didn't jump?

It's not very
interesting unless you want to hear...

Corporal Ramsey finally gave it up.
His mouth was drier than mummy dust.

I had to swab it four times
to get a decent DNA sample.

How long to test for a match
on those skin cells?

Only if you want no runs, drips or errors
in court, you got to give me 24.

Abby, clock's ticking.

You don't expect a guilty man
to give up his DNA.

He's rolling the dice,

hoping for that
one-in-a-million shot it won't match.

- Guilty people do that?
- All the time.

Wait a minute, Kate has a point.

What if Ramsey was set up?
What if he's innocent?

What if he's telling the truth?

We'll know in 24 hours,
but wouldn't bet on it.

Yeah, well, you know what?
I don't like sitting on my ass

waiting for a DNA match.

There are only two other
possible suspects.

Corporal Dafelmair or Brinkman.

Nope, there's three.
You're forgetting Captain Faul.

He's got a key to the paraloft.

Where do you think you're going,
bubba? You got a report to finish.

Sergeant Fuentes was one of
the finest NCO's in my command.

He was tough on his riggers, but fair.
And I still find it difficult to believe

his reporting Corporal Ramsey
drove him to murder.

Corporal Ramsey
hasn't been proven guilty yet, Captain.

You're holding him.
Scuttlebutt is he's confessed.

Never knew a Marine captain
who believed scuttlebutt.

How'd you prepare
the day of the exercise?

I spent the morning at a chalk talk with
the Navy aviators piloting the C-130.

- I noticed you used a Navy bird.
- Most of ours are deployed in Iraq.

- You eat lunch with them?
- At the officers' mess.

But after lunch,
we made a couple of dry runs,

had another chalk talk
and then loaded up.

Why?

Do you have your paraloft key, Captain?

Corporal Ramsey must have lifted

Sergeant Fuentes' key
long enough to make a duplicate.

Corporal Ramsey made
a key to the paraloft?

It's the only way he could have
slipped in to sabotage the chutes.

Thank you, Captain.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Why didn't you just ask to see my key?

Agent Todd is new.
Just teaching her how to interrogate.

The paraloft was secured
between 0900 and 1800.

That's why you wanted to know
what I was doing all day.

You suspected me.

If the captain were a suspect

we would have read him
his rights, wouldn't we?

Very good, Agent Todd. Great.

Captain have an alibi?

He was nowhere near the paraloft
when the chutes were sabotaged.

- Ramsey's the dirt bag.
- Could still be Dafelmair or Brinkman.

Sergeant Fuentes supervised
the riggers handing out chutes?

Yeah, he watches his riggers
from the back of the truck.

Corporal Ramsey participated.

Well, he's on suspension from rigging,
not passing out chutes or jumping.

He could have given Thumper
a dirty chute.

What'd you say?

Ramsey could have given
Thumper a sabotaged chute.

No, you said "dirty".

- What?
- With Gibbs you never know.

Abby, I need to see
Sergeant Fuentes' reserve chute.

You might wanna
take a look at this first.

Now that I'm only running
one DNA analysis,

I finally had time
to do a particle pick on the shroud lines.

You're looking at infrared
of Bolivia's best.

- Cocaine?
- Our killer's using it?

No, the rock's too pure.

The residue on his skin
is probably from cutting and weighing.

Why don't I think Thumper was killed for
reporting Corporal Ramsey's rigging?

- Where's Thumper's reserve chute?
- It's over here.

I already checked it, Gibbs. It's clean.

You know what, it's too clean.

It's too clean for someone who
smashed through a tree and an SUV.

Where's the other jump gear
we confiscated?

I stored it in the ballistics lab
after I tested it.

What are you looking for?

Ramsey, Dafelmair's
and Brinkman's gear. Here's one.

- What are you looking for?
- A screwed pooch.

There it is. It's dirty.

This is the reserve
that Thumper jumped with.

Unlucky 13.

Someone pulled a switch
after he hit the SUV.

The cone's been soldered in place.

Doesn't matter if those painkillers
slowed his judgement.

He couldn't use this chute.

Whose rucksack is this?

Call Captain Faul.
Tell him jump ops can resume.

- We got our killer.
- Do I tell him who?

No.

I don't want DNA evidence.
I want this bastard to confess.

- How are we gonna do that?
- Wear this when we jump.

Jump?

Hey, Cap.

Aren't you a little old to re-up?

I hear there's a war on.

Agent DiNozzo,
can't tell if you're enlisting or just listing.

That's a good one.

We're going with you boys.
NCIS training mission.

Now why don't I believe that?

Hell, why not?

Hate to pass up the opportunity

to toss a couple of NCIS agents
out of a plane.

- Why are you jumping with us, sir?
- I always wanted to jump.

Agent Gibbs came along to laugh.

Hard to believe Dave killed Thumper
over a lousy two weeks' suspension, sir.

- Yeah.
- Thumper rode him, sir,

but no more than the rest of us.
It just doesn't make sense.

- Oh, no!
- What? Chickening out?

13. It's my first jump,
and my reserve is number 13.

Wouldn't have
bothered Thumper, would it, guys?

- Either of you superstitious?
- No, sir.

Great! Why don't you swap
with Corporal Brinkman?

- What's your reserve chute number?
- Four.

Four? No, four is unlucky in China.

- We're not in China.
- I don't care.

- What's your number?
- Eight.

Great! Eight's lucky in China.

Is there a problem?

No, sir.

Stand up!

Hook up.

Thumper ride you, Corporal Dafelmair?

- He rode everybody, sir.
- About being a drug dealer?

That's his reserve chute you're wearing,

the one you switched
on him when he landed.

Don't know what
you're talking about, sir.

You were the first one down.
First one to get to Thumper.

Ramsey was helping Brinkman
out of a tree.

- What's he saying, Paul?
- I don't know.

Only takes a couple of minutes
to switch a bad chute for a good one.

Marine Corps gave you
a second chance.

When Thumper found out
you soiled the uniform by dealing drugs,

he wouldn't do it.

- I thought Corporal Ramsey was guilty?
- He is, sir!

You thought wrong, Corporal.

Prove it.

What the hell are you doing?
His main can't open!

He's got a reserve!

Captain, this is nuts.
You going to put a stop to this, sir?

Thirty seconds to drop.

A confession and ratting out
your drug supplier will get you a deal.

- How good a deal?
- Read him his Article 31s.

- You have the right to remain silent.
- He doesn't deserve a deal!

- Hey, back off!
- Come on. Cool it, man!

Goodbye, DiNozzo.

Military authorities arrested a Marine
and charged him with murder

in connection
with Sergeant Larry Fuentes'

tragic parachute mishap three days ago.

- Corporal Paul Dafelmair based in...
- We ever gonna make the 11:00 news?

Could have happened tonight
if you'd broke your neck.

... and is reportedly cooperating

with authorities
in an ongoing drug investigation.

Well, it's been a long one.

Details of the investigation
are being kept under wraps.

You leaving soon?

All right. Good night.

Dafelmair's family would not comment...

Can I come up?

You got a password?

Yes, sir. Semper Fi.

That's a good password. Come on up.

All right.

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