All language subtitles for NCIS.S16E04.HDTV.x264-SVA-eng

Suspect last seen headed south
on Redbird Road.

Copy that.
You got a visual?

Negative, lost sight
about a mile back.

This guy's cooking with gas
and headed right for you, Bill.

Keep your eyes open.

Like driving
a hog to slaughter.

Whoo-hoo!

Whoa!

What the hell are you doing?

I thought you said this guy
was headed south.

He was.

Oh, come on,
you let him pass you?

Nothing gets past me.

Except a blue Mustang
doing 90, male driver,

just ripped off
an armored truck?

Nothing gets past me.

Look at that.

Come on. Come on!

Advertise your product or brand here
contact www.OpenSubtitles.org today

State Police.
Hands on the wheel!

(engine running)

Minimal damage.

Engine's still running.

Where the hell is he going?

Call the Navy.

- Now!
- Yes, sir.

♪ NCIS 16x04 ♪
Third Wheel
Original Air Date on October 16, 2018

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

♪
♪

"Excessive supply."
Four letters.

Glut.

Huh. Thanks.

Hey, Tim, you mind if
I put on my music again?

No, go right ahead, man.

(music plays)
Oh, yeah.

Ooh.

(phone rings)

Special Agent McGee.

I am sorry, he is out
of the office for the week,

but I can take a message.

Great. No problem.

"Leading cause of anxiety."
Six letters, ends in "S."

BOTH:
Gibbs.

No, that's only five letters.

Stress.

The word is "stress."

- Same thing.
- You know,

years as a special agent,

and Gibbs never takes
personal leave.

And then barely eight weeks
of filling in as the director

and he's (clicks tongue)
out the door

first chance he gets.

Paperwork is worse
than dead bodies.

Mm.

The man deserves a break.

Actually, I think he should
do it more often.

Why, because McGee lets you
play music?

Well, Tim is so much nicer.
(chuckles)

Ooh, this is my favorite part.
(music volume increases)

- Hey, Bishop.
- Hmm?

I'm coming for you.

♪ 'Cause I want you ♪

♪ Touch me here, touch me there ♪
(laughing)

Stop.

♪ Touch me everywhere,
oh, yeah ♪

Okay.
(phone rings)

McGee.

Um, yes, sir.
I'm sorry.

I-I can't hear you.

♪ Thinking 'bout the things
I wanna do... ♪

How long?

Okay, we're on it.

♪ I've been a bad girl lately ♪

All right,
dance party's over.

(music stops)
There's been a robbery.

- - Where?
North Carolina.

Shouldn't the Carolinas
Field Office handle that?

They did. Check the NCIC.

BISHOP:
Okay.

Oh, someone stole $350,000

from an armored truck,

and then fled onto
a Naval air station.

Not very smart.

Base security will
be all over him.

Can't find him, even after
a lockdown and search.

Why would they call us?

Before the lockdown,
a Navy transport plane took off.

They think the thief
could be on board.

Yeah, it was immediately
diverted to Andrews,

and it lands in 20 minutes.

Ooh, 20 minutes across town?
Talk about stress.

Well, at least Gibbs can
still enjoy his break.

Mmm.

(vehicle approaching)

(car door closes)

(knocking)

Gibbs!

Tobias.

Called your office.

They said that you were
taking a few days off.

Acting director?

Yikes.
I figured you'd

come up here
to get away from it all.

I did.

Good for you.
You deserve a break.

- What do you want?
- To see you happy.

My house is being bug-bombed,
so I need a place to crash.

I let you stay on my couch
when your place had termites.

They were your termites.

What are best friends for?

Ha, that's what I said.

Gibbs, that outhouse needs

new magazines
and softer toilet paper.

Phil Brooks.
Nice to meet you.

Tobias Fornell.

I didn't realize
I was interrupting.

You both are.

I already apologized
for my misunderstanding.

I recently sold my house
in a divorce,

and the new apartment's
not ready till next week.

I called Gibbs to crash; he said
he was staying at the cabin.

GIBBS:
It was a fact,

not an invitation.

I didn't see your car.

Uber. I only got here
ten minutes before you.

What are the chances?

Yeah.

Who knew that Gibbs had
multiple best friends?

It's funny, uh,
he's never mentioned you.

- Or you.
- Huh.

Carl was it?

(chuckles)
It's Phil.

Phil.
Yeah. Phil Brooks.

Phil Brooks.

Phil's good.
Phil's good.

PRASAD:
Agent McGee,

Commander Prasad, X.O.

McGEE:
Thanks for meeting us.

PRASAD:
None too soon.

Your plane just touched down.

The flight was headed
for Southcom in Peru.

Loaded with humanitarian
supplies, no passengers.

Crew thinks they're here
for additional cargo.

They could be accomplices.

If your robber's on this plane,

it was not with the help
of Navy personnel.

I guarantee that.

TORRES:
Line up over here, please.

And, uh, no talking.

All right, flight deck is clear.

Aft wells are clear.

Cargo area is secured,
pallets are sealed.

What the hell is
going on, sir?

A grave misunderstanding.

PRASAD:
Looks like your robber found

another way off
that air station.

Well, we still need
to talk to the crew. Nick.

Guys, let's chat.

PRASAD:
Look, Agent McGee,

unless you have proof
that your robber was

on this plane...
BISHOP: McGee?

Got something.

Hey. I got blood.

And torn fabric.

Looks like a piece
of our robber.

Where's the rest of him?

KASIE:
Since records began in 1947,

there have been over a hundred
documented wheel well stowaways.

Hmm. So it's actually possible.

Oh, more than possible.

I mean, especially
on a plane this size.

The nose well of the Hercules
is comparatively roomy.

No peanuts or oxygen.

I didn't say it was safe.

Well, our guy did
lose a finger.

Must have pinched after takeoff.
Ouch.

But survivable.
Uh, well...

finger folly aside,

three out of four
wheel well stowaways

die in midair,
either due to lack of oxygen

or the extreme cold.

Temperatures at altitude
can drop to negative 40.

Oof. Bad way to travel.

Kind of like a unicycle.

Unless you've got
cold-weather gear,

an oxygen tank and a parachute.

Yeah, sure. Then a wheel well
is a pretty ingenious way

to disappear to South
America without a trail.

Very Jason Bourne.

Till the plane was diverted.

Which leaves us
with two options.

Either our guy fell out
with no parachute,

and we're looking for
a dead pancake...

Or he jumped and is
still alive... somewhere.

I'm still working on that.

So, what about an I.D.?

Or are you just searching
for Matt Damon?

Police never got a good
look at the robber,

and the car was stolen.

Fingerprints.

They didn't find any.

Yeah, no, but we did.

The severed finger, right.

Uh, it's down
in Autopsy, thawing.

The Fishlord 2000
came out two years ago,

but it didn't have
GPS capabilities

or social media
app support.

This model does.

Because this is
the Fishlord 3000.

AUTOMATED VOICE:
Let's reel 'em in!

(laughs)
Spared no expense.

Why?

For Gibbs and me
to use on the lake.

No.

Why are you two friends?

I said. He helped
build my boat.

No, I got that.
It's the stuff about Twitter

and expensive fish finders
where I get lost.

Have you met Gibbs?
He's a troglodyte.

No offense.

Too late.

- What are these for?
- Keys to my house.

Knock yourselves out.

You want us to stay there?

You're not staying here.

Well...

it was good to meet you, Fred.

(sighs) It's Phil.

And he was talking
to both of us.

No, he wasn't.
I know the man.

So do I. Gibbs and I
have shared a lot.

Have you shared an ex-wife?

No. (scoffs)

Is that a brag?

I'm just saying that
I know the man intimately.

Oh, wait.

(chuckles)
You're jealous.

- What?!
- Yeah.

No!

Yes.
It's just

that if you were really friends,
you'd know

that Gibbs hates electronics
in the cabin.

Especially hunting aids.

And don't get me started
on phones.

But it's my first time up here.

Exactly.

So why don't you sit
this one out, Skippy?

Well, you got a car.
I'm stuck here.

I will call you a taxi.

Signal is always
a little bit spotty here.

(wood clatters)

No. No, no, no, no. No.

That wasn't
for pleasure, Gibbs.

That was an emergency!

You were right.

He does hate
electronics

at the cabin.

He's pretty mad at you.

(sighs)

Sir, by 7:10 we were
climbing to 30,000 feet

at a little over
300 miles an hour.

Still with nothing to report.

Lieutenant Holcomb, you had
an unauthorized passenger

on that plane, your plane,

and we're trying to figure out
how he got there.

Then stop accusing me
and my crew of being involved!

You notice anything unusual
this morning?

Nope.

We make that flight every month,
(phone rings) like clockwork.

Hello?

Your ground crew.

They might have seen something.

Everyone on that tarmac
has a job to do.

Looking for stowaways
isn't one of them.

I mean, who the hell
would be that stupid?

I think we're about to find out.

On my way back, Jimmy.

Nail pitting can be
a sign of psoriasis

or inflammatory arthritis.

Uh, no doubt the tropical
South American climate

would ease the pain.

What, you think this guy risked
his life for better skin?

Vitamin supplements
are much safer.

Jimmy, you said you had a print?

Just one sec. Almost done.
Uh, Dr. Mallard,

would you start for me?
- Gladly.

This is the
right index finger

of a fully grown
adult male.

After thawing the digit,

and separating fabric
from flesh,

Dr. Palmer rehydrated the tissue
with injections

of saline.

It's a common procedure. It's
outlined in Dr. Mallard's book.

Volume one comes out next week.

Oh, that's right.
Congrats, Duck.

JIMMY:
It's exciting, huh?

They even asked him
to go on a signing tour.

DUCKY:
It's only being sold

at lesser colleges

with a specialized
medical examiner program.

I politely declined.

But I am scheduling
all of his flights.

Jimmy, I thought you were
working on the fingerprint.

Yeah, it's on the list. Right
now, I am sending Dr. Mallard

on the trip of a lifetime.

It is six weeks worth of
dramatic readings, autographs.

Here's the itinerary.

Tell him he should go.

- What?
- (mouths)

You know, Duck, I loved doing
my book tours for Deep Six.

People really love

putting a face
to the words.

Especially the groupies.

Define "groupies."

Eager, attractive fans
of your work.

Well, upper New York State

is at its best
this time of the year.

Yes, perhaps I should

talk this over with my agent.

Where's my phone?

Ah.

Uh, excuse me.

Dr. Mallard stayed to help after
the director was kidnapped.

But really, he's just been
wandering around,

uh, constantly looking
over my shoulder.

Is it wrong for me to help him
find a new project?

Jimmy, fingerprint.

Oh, I already
sent it up to Kasie.

What? Why did you call me?

(chuckles): Uh, I needed
your help with Dr. Mallard.

Gibbs would murder you.

I know.

You are so much nicer.

BISHOP: Robber's stolen car
arrives at 6:39 a.m.

- He parks and waits.
- Got tinted windows.

You can't see a face.

BISHOP: The armored truck
arrives at 6:53.

TORRES:
You got one guard.

BISHOP:
A payday loan shop in the middle

of Nowhere, Carolina
is not a high priority.

TORRES:
It will be now.

Wow.

350 grand in four
and a half seconds.

That's not bad.

BISHOP: He knew
the delivery schedule

and he was careful.

TORRES:
That flight suit

helped him blend in on the base.

Could this guy be military?

We need a name
to match that finger.

It's been classified.

By who?

The FBI. We got an exact match
in the system,

but to access the file, we have
to be read in, in person.

- The FBI is coming here?
- Yeah.

KASIE: Turn
those frowns

upside down.

You got fingerprint info?

Oh, no. That is not the reason
for the smiles.

I found our robber.
I mean, kind of,

kind of-- the
general area.

Okay. According
to the black box recorder,

the landing gear only extended
on approach to D.C.

The robber could have parachuted
anytime before landing.

That's 60 miles
of north-south approach

with about three miles
of east-west drift

for a parachute descent.

Needle, meet haystack.

Yes. But since no one reported

a random parachute
on their morning commute,

(chuckles) and there was
nothing on social media...

Our robber avoided
populated areas.

Which would mean
he jumped as soon

as the landing gear
doors opened.

Which would put him
somewhere around here.

BISHOP: Well, okay,
slightly smaller haystack.

TORRES:
You mean forest.

Yeah, and still too big
to cover on foot.

But we can alert park rangers
and set up roadblocks.

Right, McGee?

These road names,
they-they look familiar.

Wait, is this Brossard County?

- - Yes.
No.

What? What's in Brossard County?

Gibbs, and his cabin.

Oh.

Ooh.

Yeah, but you said the
search grid is-is huge.

Yeah, but we should
still warn him.

We're gonna interrupt
his vacation?

No, man. He doesn't
want to talk to us.

(phone ringing)

Special Agent McGee.

Hey, boss, uh,

we were just talking about you.

Damn. That's just...
that's next level.

You're going out to search
for a missing bank robber

in the middle of nowhere?

You used my phone
to call NCIS?

Hey. That was an emergency.

You were looking for an
excuse to get out of here.

Gibbs, the chances of you
finding this guy

are a million to one.

So you're just
gonna leave us?

Yes.

Well, I was an Eagle Scout.

I was a trained
federal agent.

Hmm.

(overlapping chatter)

- Ooh.
- Ooh. Ah.

Gibbs!
Wait Up!

Hey, Gibbs!

All right, so where are we?

Well, Gibbs happily volunteered

to search miles
of remote forest.

Said he needed the distraction.

From his vacation?

- Roadblocks?
- State Police have been notified,

but are you sure
he didn't want to wait

for the Forestry Service?

Gibbs is Gibbs.
Did you talk to the NSA?

Yeah. Thermal-imaging satellites
won't be in place for hours.

(phone vibrating)

Sorry, Suze.
Forgot to turn it off.

Uh-oh.

You think the FBI knows
that this case deals

with stolen federal money,
and crosses state lines?

Safe bet.

They're gonna take over.

Well, don't let them.

Do what Gibbs does.

Such as?

For starters,
stop being so nice.

(birds chirping)

(panting)

I win!

I made it to the top
of the ridge first.

Phil wasn't even close.

You see anything?

I know what you're doing.

Using us against each other
for your own benefit.

Did you see anything?

(chuckles)
You were right.

You can see the whole
valley from up there.

I saw some fabric caught
in a tree

a couple of miles due east.

It's got to be the
parachute, right?

Hey. What took you
so long, Pokey?

I'm built for comfort,
not speed.

He told you
about the parachute?

Yeah.

Guess this thing finds
fish, not bad guys.

Hey, put that back. We may need
it if I run out of protein bars.

Come on, let's get out of here.

- Does it keep score?
- Of what?

Me, one;
you, zero.

Oh, very funny. Give it back.

You want a tip,
Agent Monet?

Call me Izzy. And, yes, please.

- Izzy.
- Mm?

Take a bus tour.

Like a tourist?

Yeah, the cheesier the better.

You'll see all the landmarks,
and then you're gonna learn

how to use those to,
uh, to navigate.

Smart. I'd rather have
someone show me around.

Do you know anybody?

Well, Izzy, that depends.

Do you like motorcycles?

Hello. Special Agent
Timothy McGee, NCIS.

Isabel Monet, FBI.

This is our case.

Wow, you were not kidding.

(chuckles)

I'm not here
to take over the case.

You told her?

- She has a nice smile.
- (laughs softly)

I just recently transferred
from our San Diego office.

I'm not used to people being
so uptight about jurisdiction.

Or life, in general.

Well, you'll get there.

- Hmm.
- Now, about our fingerprint match?

Down to business.

That is so East Coast.

Meet Franklin Poe.

You were not able
to access his info

because he's part of the Federal
Witness Protection Program.

Is he a scared bunny
or a dirty rat?

Poe's a rat.

He was busted three years ago

as part of a high-profile heist
in Las Vegas.

Agreed to testify against
his buddies for a plea deal.

Hence witness protection.

We set him up in North Carolina
managing a shoe store.

It's not sexy, but safe.

I guess he had second thoughts.

Waves break,
but they don't change course.

Do you surf?

It's funny you should ask that.

- I...
- Is this it?

Am I missing something?

No. It just seems
that you could've told us this

over the phone,
or maybe e-mailed the file.

You got me. Uh, there's actually
another reason

that I came in person.

- I, um, I...
- Izzy?

Jackie-Jack!

There's my little beach bum.

3,000 miles,
and trouble still finds me.

How about that?

It's nice to see you, too.

Uh-huh.

Slow down, Bear Grylls!

Who's Pokey now?

I was talking to Gibbs.

You can always turn back.

♪ Show me the way
to go home ♪

♪ I'm tired and I want
to go to bed. ♪

Never mind. I'm good.

I'm okay.

(branches snapping)

WOMAN:
Who's there?

I thought I heard singing.

You did. Bad singing.

You can go ahead and shoot,
but I'll go down swinging.

Special Agent Gibbs.

NCIS.

NCIS?

What is this,
a company picnic?

Yeah. You on your way out?

My truck is parked on the other
side of the orchard there.

Name's Jane.

Looks like you caught
some trout, Jane.

Yeah, trout. A few crappie.

Worm?

My dad taught me
to use canned corn.

I come up here
every year

to fish and to quit smoking

and every year
I'm only half successful.

Did you happen to see
anybody else out here?

Maybe someone
with nine fingers.

That's awfully specific.

Uh-uh. No.

This have to do
with that parachute

I saw a little ways back?

Should I be worried?

Would you like an escort
to your truck?

From you? Or them?

Thanks. I'll take my chances.

Oh, and that,
uh, parachute,

it's about two miles due south.

Just right off
the trail there.

South? I thought
you said east.

FORNELL:
I got us close.

I didn't hear anything
from the Eagle Scout.

I don't know.

Sounds like that scoreboard's
back to goose eggs.

I wanted to surprise you.

I've only been in
town for two weeks.

I was starting to
get a little bored,

so I just thought this
would be like old times.

You know? Minus
the good beaches.

We had fun.

Had.

What is your deal?

You're not still mad
about Bodhi?

Oh, please.

(laughing): Look, I'm sorry that
you got your heart broken,

but I won fair and square.

Nothing with you is ever fair.

(chuckles) Do you want
to see a picture?

Wait. You keep one with you?!

Girl can dream, right?

Put your phone away

and get to the point
or get out of my office.

Uh, if you two want
to talk in private,

I can just come back.

- That might be best, Ellie.
- Just wait.

I have been case agent
on this since the beginning.

I just want to see it through.

And Jack,
if our friendship

interferes with
that in any way,

we don't have to interact.

Just pretend I didn't
save your life in Bora Bora.

(stammers)

What, you two went
to Bora Bora to surf?

Nobody goes to Bora Bora
to surf.

Okay. So then why does one
go to Bora Bora?

The FBI gave you
what we had.

I'm just asking that NCIS
do the same thing.

To be clear, I saved you first.

Those waves were sick, brah.

(under breath):
Shut up.

Just give her the file.
Give her the file.

Okay.

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

Ugh.

She would be fun
on karaoke night.

But I should probably
double-check everything

she just told us, right?

With extreme prejudice.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Oh, Jane wasn't kidding.

Good thing we followed
her directions.

Could've sworn that parachute
was near a clearing.

Just admit you were wrong.

Ooh, I got to use
the little boy's room.

Again?

Hey, do you actually like

hanging out with old
raisin bladder?

GIBBS:
That's a ram-air canopy.

That's not easy.

Our jumper has experience
and a head start.

NCIS putting up roadblocks?

- 'Cause I am getting no signal.
- (Phil groans)

PHIL: A little
help over here.

What now? Does he want us
to hold it for him?

PHIL: Gibbs! I need your help!
- Come on.

Oh, no. My leg!

Hey. You okay?

I slipped and fell.

I think it's broken, Gibbs.

This guy.

Our scorecard needs
negative integers.

Or a few more zeroes.

Because when I landed,
I saw this in the branches.

FORNELL: You got
to be kidding me.

The stolen money?

Our robber must've lost it
during the jump.

You, zero;

me, 350,000.

That's good work...

Phil.

(Phil groaning)
GIBBS: I got it.

(groans)

You always hike
with duct tape?

GIBBS:
Yeah. You don't?

Just leave me
behind, Gibbs.

We're getting you back
to the cabin, Phil.

If that money is still in this
forest, so is our robber.

He's gonna be looking
for it and us.

I'll just slow you down.

Come on. Get you up.

(grunts)

Oh, no, no.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Hey, what, your leg?

No, the Fishlord 3000.

It was in my
bag when I fell.

Thank you.

AUTOMATED VOICE:
Let's reel 'em in!

(chuckles)
Spared no expense.

(exhales)

Give me that thing.

Give me this.
Okay.

- All right.
- (panting): All right.

- Let's go.
- Ow. Ow! Oh, oh, oh, boy.

GIBBS:
What?

Anybody bring bourbon?

What?

(sighs)

It's only because
I feel sorry for you.

Oh.

- Let's go.
-Ow!

(groaning)
Slow down. Oh.

Hey, boss.

Just, uh,
checking in again.

Give us a call.

Tim, Gibbs is fine.

Gibbs is Gibbs.

Anything on those roadblocks?

Nothing.

And nothing
from San Diego, either.

What's in San Diego?

Bodhi.

That's the guy that
Agent Sloane and Agent Monet

have been, uh, fighting over.

I e-mailed my buddy
at Camp Pendleton.

Why?

To find out if Agent Monet
has a type, man.

Maybe Bodhi's an agent.

Or just a surfer.

Or maybe both,
like Keanu in Point Break.

You're getting warmer, Nick.

What? She tell you
the whole story?

- Yup.
- You gonna tell me?

Probably not.

Uh, WITSEC just sent over
their file on Franklin Poe.

You and Sloane don't trust
Agent Monet?

Or me, apparently.

McGEE:
We're gonna need to know

where Poe might be headed,

other than South America.

Well, when someone enters
Witness Protection,

they have to forfeit
all property and holdings.

Including their passport.

International travel
is strictly prohibited.

Not if you're traveling
by wheel well.

Well, I doubt it was
his first choice.

SLOANE:
He didn't have any options.

When the FBI transferred
Poe to his new home,

he specifically
requested to drive,

citing "fear of flying."

And parachuting's
a big jump.

In many ways.

The guy had help.

On the ground or in the air?

Hey. I thought Izzy said

that she was
the case agent.

Yeah, she did.

But her name isn't mentioned
anywhere in this file.

♪ Show me the way to go home ♪

♪ I'm tired and I want
to go to bed ♪

♪ I had a little drink
about an hour ago. ♪

Little is right.

You had two drinks
and you're drunk.

The Brookses are lightweights,
historically speaking.

Sure I can't take another
one of those bags, Gibbs?

Uh-uh, it balances
the other dead weight

and some god-awful singing.

It's true. I am dead weight.

All three of us are, really.

Here we go.

Divorced. Lonely. Older.

Speak for yourself.

The clarity is uncanny.

- All we have is each other.
- Shh.

It's okay, Gibbs.
Let your feelings out.

Shh, shh.

(howling nearby)
Coyotes?

Sit down.

Stay here. Watch him.

Gibbs, I...

I'll be right back.

Don't shoot yourself, Hemingway.

Not Hemingway.

It's Brooks. Phil Brooks.

And here we have my favorite
room on the tour.

Four walls and a mirror

is all you ever needed
to break somebody, Jack.

I miss watching you work.

Then today's your lucky day.

(chuckles) That's funny.

Are you gonna grill me
about our bet on Bodhi?

Wait, they bet on guys?

That's weird.

But possibly hot.
(scoffs)

This isn't about
old times, Izzy.

Please, have a seat.

Yeah, that's not
gonna happen.

Then why don't you stop lying?

You haven't been on this case
since the beginning.

You were only assigned
this morning

after NCIS got involved.

As usual, you're
overanalyzing.

You came here to take advantage
of our friendship. Why?

And how dare you guilt-trip me
with Bora Bora.

(sighs)

I know your
pressure points, too.

Don't make me press.

Please press.

I was sent on damage control.

- Okay.
- Poe's robbery and escape

look bad for the Bureau.
- Duh. And?

And what you don't know,
what nobody else knows,

is that a former FBI agent
might've helped him do it.

Who?

When Poe was put
into Witness Protection,

he ended up falling
for his FBI handler,

Anna Jenlowe.

The real case agent.

Yeah. She eventually
resigned

and moved in with him.

It was unusual, but not illegal.

Until Poe disappeared.

That's the problem.

The FBI can't find her, either.

Well, I'll be damned.

This is the parachute that
I saw from the ridge.

I am back on
the board, baby.

Missing a finger.

Our escaped robber
didn't survive the landing.

So who was in

that other parachute?

Same person who did this.

(flies buzzing)

FORNELL:
Coyotes found him.

Coyotes didn't stab him.

Now who do we know
with a big-ass knife?

(gunshot)

Tobias.

Damn it.

So there was a second person
in that wheel well.

Call Gibbs.

AUTOMATED VOICE:
This mailbox is full.

No.

Phil?

- Phil!
- Uh-uh.

Sorry, Gibbs.

I didn't hear her
in time.

She was following us, and...

(sighs) I'm a little drunk.

The gun, toss it over.

No one else needs to die.

I didn't murder that camper.
He came at me.

- It was self-defense.
- Okay.

Come on in, explain it.

We've both told that lie.

Stop!

Stop trying to close
the distance!

You're a cop?

I know there's no going back.

Don't even think about it.

Okay.

The only way now

is forward.

The money.

Let him go.

Money first.

Gibbs, don't do it.

First time I agree
with Phil.

If there's no going back,
she'll just shoot us all.

All right.

Okay.

A deal's a deal.

But...

damn, you should've
listened to your friends.

(shouts)

(screams)

(groaning)

Well, ashes are cold.

Still no signal.

You really think Gibbs
found something out there?

- Gibbs is Gibbs.
-(Phil groans)

- I got to sit down.
FORNELL: I should've known better.

Coming out here
was a giant mistake.

PHIL: Oh, my leg
is killing me.

TORRES:
Whoa.

Wh-- Fornell, what happened?

A tree exploded in my face.

Would've been
your chest exploding

if I hadn't saved your life.

I take it these weren't
camping injuries.

Hey, Gibbs, we got two jumpers.

Yeah, met them both.

Man's dead.

Woman, she's gone.

Said her name was Jane.

Anna Jenlowe.

Her photo's been added to
the BOLOs and roadblocks.

That's her. She's got
a generous head start.

Get them both to the hospital.

- Oh, thank God.
- No, no, no, no. I'm good.

Torres, give me your
phone. Let's go.

Where are you going, Gibbs?
She's long gone.

McGEE: She's had a
pilot's license for 20 years,

and her father
was in the Air Force.

Amazing what you learn when
the FBI's not holding back.

Anna Jenlowe practically
grew up in an airplane.

Sneaking on that plane
had to be her idea.

It could be how she plans
to escape again.

Going back to the well?

So I'm running a list of old
aliases she used as an agent.

(computer chirps)
Hmm.

Uh-oh, turns out I was right,

but this time
she is not sneaking.

She bought a ticket.

One of her FBI aliases

is booked on a flight to Miami.

Ronda Popovich.

Purchased an hour ago
from a cafe near Dulles.

We got to stop that plane.
I'm gonna call airport security.

Yeah. Oh, better make it
the FAA.

That flight took off
six minutes ago.

(phone rings)

Hey, Nick.

GIBBS (over phone): Kasie.
- Oh, Gibbs!

GIBBS:
Can you track a signal?

Yeah, of course I can.
Sure, no problem.

Agent McGee,
that flight's already

on its way to Miami.

Which is why we need to know
if Anna Jenlowe is on board.

I thought the passenger name
was "Ronda Popovich"?

It's a fake I.D.

She bought a ticket,
but I need to confirm

she actually made the flight.

That requires
the airline manifest.

Yes, that's what I'm asking for.

Okay. You could ask nicely.

You know what?
I'm done being nice.

We have a former
FBI agent on the run

and before it becomes a hostage
situation, or even worse,

I need to know that she actually
made the damn plane, now.

I-- Right away, sir.

(knocking at door)

Put up the door camera.

- McGee!
- It appears to be Kasie Hines.

- You think? Let her in.
- McGee, open up! McGee!

(lock buzzes)

(exhales)
Sorry about the banging.

I'm still a temporary employee.
I don't have eyeball access.

What's wrong?

The ticket was just a diversion.
Our woman is not on that plane.

- You got the manifest?
- No, I just talked to Gibbs.

We just tracked
Anna Jenlowe going south

on a highway outside Manassas.

- Wait, what?
- It's... a little unusual.

- All right, just tell me on the way.
- Yeah, okay.

♪ ♪

(bell rings)

Excuse me?

TORRES:
Be right there.

Hey. What can I do for you?

Can I get $50
on pump seven, please,

and a pack of Reds.
I don't mean to be rude,

but you should rethink
your choices.

Yeah, I know,
smoking's bad for my health.

Yes, and so am I.

Uh-uh, uh-uh.

Let go.

You know, hiding under
airplanes, murder,

interrupting the
boss's "me time"...

Those are all
bad choices.

How the hell
did you find me?

Spared no expense.

Hey, I hear they added GPS and
social media to that new model.

AUTOMATED VOICE:
Let's reel 'em in!

Now the FBI takes over?

After we close the case.

They get to control the story.

Agent McGee, you were right.

You'll have to be more specific.

I got used to that
East Coast mentality.

Ah.

I was doing my job.

Has lying to me
ever worked, Izzy?

It was worth a try.

I'm the new agent in town,
I wanted to score some points.

Right.

We got into a lot of trouble
back in the day, Jack.

Yeah, we did.

We still could.

(chuckles)

And, uh, here's that
photo of Bodhi

you were asking about, Nick.

I'll see you next week
for that motorcycle tour.

What?

Oh, I don't... I don't know
what she's talking about.

Wait, Bodhi is not a man?

So much better than a man.

Bodhi is a
restored 1974

Ford Bronco convertible.

Named after
Patrick Swayze

in Point Break.
Ugh!

Jack, uh, did you bet on a car?

If you want the ultimate, Nick,
you got to be willing

to pay the ultimate price.

So many questions.
I have so many questions.

Save it. We got arrest reports

to fill out and
I want to get them done

before Gibbs gets back from
his last two days of leave.

You gonna
share or what?

Oh. Appreciate it, Cyclops.

Least I can do, Gimpy.
(laughs)

Thanks for the, uh,
official invite, Gibbs.

This is special.

Just three men realizing
they need each other.

Why do you have to ruin
everything?

Why do you got to say something
stupid like that, Phil?

Sorry, sorry.
You're absolutely right.

♪ Show me the way to go home ♪

♪ I'm tired
and I want to go to bed ♪

(clears throat)

♪ I had a little drink
about an hour ago ♪

(laughs)

ALL: ♪ And it went
right to my head ♪

(laughs)

♪ Wherever ♪

♪ We may roam on land
or sea or foam ♪

♪ You'll always hear me
singing this song ♪

♪ Show me the way to go home. ♪