All language subtitles for NCIS.Origins.S02E13.Homeward.Bound.2160p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.265-NTb_Track03

It all started
on a lonely Wednesday night.

Well, it all started
with Ducky, actually.

He'd just finished up
his first official day

as Head Medical Examiner
in the D.C. office.

Dr. Magnus
retired the day before.

So, by the time Ducky got home,

he was dying
for some "morgue talk"

with a live human.

San Diego County
Medical Examiner's Office,

Dr. Téngalkat speaking.

Dr. Téngalkat,
how delightful you answered.

It's Donald Mallard.

We met when
I had the pleasure of visiting

Camp Pendleton
and lending a hand on--

Dr. Mallard. How's it going?

Ducky asked Tango's advice
on the case he worked that day,

and he was pretty excited
when Tango called him

the next week to do the same.

Don't stay up too late.

It's not good for your pancreas.

- Night, Lenora.
- Night.

Couple of weeks in, they decided
to make it a standing call.

Every Wednesday night,
they'd discuss the ups and downs

of medical examining.

Right on time, Dr. Téngalkat.

It's good to hear
your voice, man.

I have much to recount
from my week,

but you certainly sound
as if you've had quite a day.

Decapitation by steel beam.

Dear God. Partial or complete?

Ducky didn't have
many friends in D.C.,

and there was a hole
in Tango's life, too,

without his favorite
niece Tish around.

So they stayed on
the phone longer.

Ducky told Tango how to make
a damn good cup of English tea.

Tango answered all of
Ducky's burning questions

about the Payómkawichum tribe.

They talked about family,

their mothers, their pasts,

their stories.

They became friends.

But one Wednesday night...

...something happened.

And by then...

...Ducky knew his friend
well enough to know...

...Tango wouldn't miss

their Wednesday night call

for anything.

What are you doing here?

I don't want you to go.

I got a surprise for you.

Good morning.

What?

I didn't know
how you liked your eggs.

You don't even eat breakfast.

I made it for you.

Oh.

This scar,

how'd you get it?

Manny...

You can't do
the things you do to me,

and then not tell me
how you got stabbed.

Was it an initiation?

How old were you?

You gotta try the French toast.

- Oh, wow.
- Yes.

Oh, wow.

You have some skills, dude.

Maybe I could
make you dinner sometime.

Like with courses.

Like a real date?

But I don't know, um...

I never know
when Flaco needs me,

so I can't really
plan it anyway.

I present to you the extra key

to the fancy, unpickable
cross lock on my door.

Surprise me sometime.

I always come home
from work eventually.

What would your work guys think?

My work guys think

you are a model citizen
named Jonny.

Jonny's probably
a big-time chef.

Yeah, but

I like Manny better.

Oh, yeah?

Ah, come on.

Morning, Mary Jo.

- You just missed your wife.
- What?

She was here?

No, Gibbs,

she called from L.A.
Remember, honey,

she works there now.

Yeah, I just
didn't know what you...

She was probably
calling me back.

She wasn't there
when I called her last night.

This dang thing.

Earl from IT
took my answering machine

and switched me to this new

- voicemail crap.
- What's a voicemail?

Exactly. I gotta
crack a numeric code

just to get my messages.

Whoo! We made the newsletter.

- Really?
- What newsletter?

The NIS newsletter.

They distribute it to every

NIS office in the country.
Nobody here reads it

because it's only ever about
the big dogs in D.C. Oh.

Mary Jo.

Did my divorce lawyer
leave a message last night?

I don't know, Cliff,
I'm working on it.

We're in the NIS Newsletter.

- What? Oh.
- Mm-hmm.

"Included in the Fed Five

"are two members
of the NIS Pendleton team,

Mike Franks and Elroy Gibbs."

They-they-they misspelled
your name,

but who cares?
You're immortal now, buddy.

- Morning.
- We made the NIS newsletter.

- No!
- Our team?

Careful, don't rip it.

I swear to God,
if Earl doesn't give me back

my answering machine,
we're gonna have words.

"Elroy Gibbs"? They didn't
even get your name right.

Randy, this is like
a dream come true for you.

- Where's your name?
- Oh, please.

Randolf's not named.

This publication's
for serious agents only.

I'm serious.

You do standup, Rando.

You also frolic too much.

I've never seen you stand still.

- It's concerning.
- Oh, my God.

Franks, you need to get down

- to Mesa Detention Center.
- What?

Dr. Friedman left a message

saying Doc Tango is in jail.

He got pulled over for a DUI.

Tango was driving hammered?

The hell didn't he use
his one phone call

to have me come get him?
Probie, with me.

Boss. Here.

Excuse me, ma'am,

we're here
to post bail for a detainee.

Name's Temét Téngalkat.

Bail's not set for
Tankon-lot yet.

There's a mix-up
with the magistrate.

I need to re-file
for the hearing.

We're gonna need to see him,
then. Where's the sign-in?

Visiting hours
don't start till 10:00.

What are you boys, FBI?

NIS. You the one
that brung him in?

Yeah, Joseph Sanders,
NPS Ranger.

I arrested Tankon-lot

just outside
Mission National Park.

You got a warrant to see him?

His name is Téngalkat
and he's family.

You don't look like his family.

Nah, you
look like a...

...a cowboy to his Indian.

Okay, how about you tell us
what happened out there?

He's a damn park guy, probie.

You should be out there
breaking up squirrel fights.

I'm a federal agent
just like you.

Do you even
have cause to arrest him?

Okay. Now, it's starting

to make sense.
You made up a cause, didn't you?

Tango don't ever
get behind the wheel drunk.

Okay, I think you got

your wires crossed here.

This wasn't a DUI.

I picked your guy up
for stealing a body.

Ha! Stealing a body?

The man's an M.E. Transporting
dead folks is what he does.

He put the remains in the back
of his own personal vehicle

and fled the scene.

You got any witnesses to that?

Just so you know,
a guy showed up

with a warrant for the body

a few minutes ago.

Who?

Greetings, dear gentlemen.

- Hey.
- Though circumstances
may be dire,

your shining faces are
just what the doctor ordered.

Ducky, what are you doing here?

I was Dr. Téngalkat's
one phone call.

The hell didn't you call us?

I assumed
you were already aware.

Besides, there was
no time to chat.

Dr. Téngalkat asked me
to drop everything

and fly here straightaway
to assist with the situation.

You think you can talk some
sense into that Ranger Rick?

He's trying to claim
that Tango stole a body.

Well, I hate to be
the bearer of bad tidings...

but I'm afraid he did.

He popped the remains in here
and drove off like the dickens.

Son of a bitch.

Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on.
Are you saying Tango

actually stole a body,

or is the Ranger Rick dude

trying to frame him?

No, Tango definitely
drove off with it.

But it's more of a skeleton.

Why would he steal a skeleton?

Tell them
I say hello, would you?

- Oh, my God.
- Oh!

- Is that Dr. Mallard?
- What are you doing here?

- We love you so much.
- You gotta come by,
visit us, honey.

Gibbs, ask him if we can

call him Ducky.
Uh, and tell him congrats

on becoming head M.E.

- What, you're head M.E. now?
- Yeah,

it was in the newsletter.

It's nothing, really.

Oop, it's nearly 10:00.

Yeah, this Sanders guy

is being a real ass.

He's having
the receptionist make us wait

until 10:00 to see Tango.

Why don't you just
talk to the corrections officer?

Franks did,

but the two of them got into it.

Yes, Michael is rather on edge

due to his adoration
for Dr. Téngalkat.

We're trying
to give him some space,

you know, like we do with
Wheeler when he eats lactose.

I'm standing right here, Gibbs.

Sorry, sir.

We'll keep you posted.

Ma'am.

I think it's 10:00.

From where I'm sitting,

it's 9:59.

- Moira?
- Looks like 9:59 to me.

Don't you got an office
in the woods somewhere?

These are community desks,

and I want to make sure
that nobody tries

to jump above the law,

seeing as how
my detainee has friends

who don't think
the rules should apply to them.

It's 10:00.

Visiting hours have started.

Sign yourselves in.

Did you get it all done?

Are the remains
legally in your custody?

Yes, I did exactly
as you asked.

Oh, thank you. Now,

I need you
to take them to forensics

- and have them dated.
- Hang on there, Chief.

You want to tell us what
the hell happened last night?

A call came in.

Some youth rangers were
camping in Mission Park,

and they found a skeleton
that was dug up by an animal.

The coroner vans were
all out on calls,

- so I took my own car.
- Dr. Friedman was

- gonna meet you there
later with a van?
- That's right.

Then I get there and
I see the skeleton. It's...

it's old.

There were
seashells on the ribcage.

Remnants of a necklace.

It's a style
popular with my tribe,

from my family clan.

Those are the remains
of a Payómkawichum man.

He needs a proper burial.

His spirit needs to rest.

But the commission won't act
without proof.

- Commission, what commission?
- NAGPRA, correct?

Native American Graves
Protection and Repatriation Act.

If we could give the commission
definitive proof

the remains are Payómkawichum,

they'll be returned
to the tribe.

If not,

the remains
will be auctioned off

to the highest bidder.

Is there much of
a market for that?

Oh, yes, Jethro.
Museums and collectors

pay exorbitant amounts
for such things.

I knew if I didn't
get the remains

home to the reservation,
they'd end up on display

in some museum.

I wasn't thinking.

I just reacted.

I made it a mile before
that ranger stopped me.

You know what bringing
my ancestor home means to me.

Yes, I remember what
you told me about your father.

Mike?

We must start gathering proof.

I'll get the remains
to forensics for dating.

I won't let you down, Doctor.

Go on, probie.

Take Dominguez and Rando

back to the scene,
see if you can find

any other Indian stuff
that can help us prove this.

Look, I know
what this would've meant

to your daddy, but you could

get fired for this, Chief.

I'm not concerned about that.

Then I'll be concerned for you.

Bail ain't been set.

I'm gonna wait for
that ranger to get back,

and I'm gonna convince him
to drop the charges.

How do I look in orange, hmm?

Gravesite's just past
that tree line. So,

you're looking for some
Native American stuff?

We're also gonna need the names

of anyone
who was around last night.

It's possible someone
unknowingly removed evidence.

Were those people
here at the time?

Uh, no.

A couple of youth rangers were
the ones that found the bones.

- Good.
- I can get you a list

of everyone
that was camping here.

I like your art.
That's a lot of cans.

Uh, don't touch it.

It's not soldered yet.

Hey, so, question.

Do you guys think
Wheeler was right about me

not being serious enough
to make the newsletter?

Hey, you're still
typing all the case files

into the computer, aren't you?

- That's something.
- Yeah.

Yeah, but...

...will you ask Diane
what she thinks

when you finally
get ahold of her?

I value her opinion.

- What the hell?
- Okay,

you can ask Jonny, too.

He seems like
a serious kind of guy, right?

What does he do again?

He's a chef.

- Really?
- Never mind.

Forget I brought it up.

A serious agent would be
making a game plan

for searching the gravesite
for Payómkawichum artifacts.

Yeah, your table could
use some soldering, too.

Sorry. Um...

We're gonna take that list

- of the campers.
- Yeah.

We'll be at the gravesite if you

think of anything else.

Leave it!

I'm never gonna
make the newsletter.

Rando, let's go.

Yeah.

You find something?

Got some blood.

They must've missed it
in the dark last night.

Gibbs is following the trail.

Someone gets hurt at the grave,

staggers this way, losing blood.

He grabbed the tree here.

There's more up there.

Guys.

No way Doc Tango knew
about this part, right?

He was murdered
over the remains?

Looks that way.

Guess an animal didn't

dig up them bones after all.

And there was a blood trail?

I didn't see it.
I-I didn't know.

It was dark out.

Plus, you were
all caught up trying to get

your guy's skeleton
to the reservation.

Look, the team's
gonna get that murder solved.

Ducky's taking
care of the bones.

You and me, we gotta focus on

getting you
out of here with your job.

- I told you, that's not--
- Listen to me.

That park ranger,
he heard about the body.

He circled over there.

I told Dominguez to send him
back here to talk to us.

I'm thinking, you know,
once he sees who you are--

He knows I'm an M.E.
He arrested me anyways.

No, I mean...

What?

He was butchering
your name on purpose.

And then he's sitting here

in this community desk,

watching over you like a hawk.

The man don't like Indians!

Probably not Black folks,
either, or anybody

with a shake of pepper in them.
We gotta show him...

...that you're just
like a white person,

only more native
to the land and whatnot.

Okay, Mike.

Chief, I'm telling you,
you got to make him understand

why you took them bones.

You got to tell him
about your daddy.

That's the only way

he's gonna drop the charges.

Agent Franks.

Your people said
you were looking to see me.

Yes, sir, that's right.
Have a seat.

Take a load off.

The youth rangers
who found the bones,

they, uh,
they said they heard some

UFO kind of sounds beforehand.

I'm guessing that
had something to do with

this new murder we got.

You know anything about that?

UFO sounds?

He don't know
nothing about this.

He was called to the scene
after, just like you.

Tell him.

I was called to the scene after.

Come on.

Tell him about your daddy.

1971.

The highway was being built.

14 of my people's
remains were dug up

and sold to the highest bidders.

My father

dedicated his life to

trying to bring them home

to the reservation...

...for a proper burial.

He fought
with everything in him.

Died trying.

You hear that?

Tango was just trying
to do right by his daddy.

You got a daddy, don't you?

Mm-hmm.

You file charges
against this man,

he's as good as fired.

That is a loss to everyone
in this damn county.

I'm postponing
the magistrate hearing.

But only to complete
my own investigation,

see if I need to charge him

with something more
than grave-robbing.

Come on, he ain't done
nothing else and you know it.

Get me what info
you got on this new body,

and, uh, we'll see what I think.

Son of a bitch.

You, good sir,
have been identified

through the contents
of your wallet

as 39-year-old
Marine veteran Dennis Moor.

I hear you lived
a few miles from base,

and judging by
the tools and amenities

inside your tent,

I gather you very much
enjoyed solo camping

and unearthing forgotten relics.

But tell me, Mr. Moor.

When you were
inside said tent...

...did you feel at home?

I've never seen anyone
talk to the bodies before.

Forgive me, Dr. Friedman.

I'm on your dance floor.

Oh, no, please.
I'm stoked to finally meet you.

Tango's constantly bragging
about your phone calls.

Was he doing okay
when you saw him?

What do we got, Duck?

Did you say "duck" or "doc?"

I'll listen
to whoever's talking.

Would you mind talking
while I dig?

Just the thought of
Tango getting canned

is just making me come off...

abnormal.

I don't mind at all. Mr. Moor

was stabbed to death, Jethro.

The murder weapon was unusual.

It made
an exceptionally clean cut,

but when striking the rib,

a fragment of the weapon
chipped off inside the wound.

And I am trying to get it out,
but it is jammed--

Son of a motherless ovary!

- I could give it a go
if you like.
- Sorry.

I'm just, uh,
worried about Tango.

Thank you.

Oh, I'm gonna
give Woody a call

and see how he's doing
on dating those remains.

And congrats on making head M.E.

You must be kicking
some autopsy ass in D.C.

Head M.E.'s not a good thing?

What?

Yes. Yes, of course it is. Yeah.

It's just... Mother.

She lives with me, you know, and

my promotion has
made her feel as if,

well, our time in D.C.
is permanent, so, um...

Truth be told, she doesn't
have many friends there.

Oh, Jethro, I meant to tell you,

I was so tickled
to receive your thank-you note

- for the ship-in-a-bottle.
- I'm building one now.

A ship in a bottle?

A boat in a shed.

- You're joking.
- Mm-mm.

Been able to work on it more
now that Diane is in L.A.

Diane is...?

Is my wife.

- Your wife?
- Mm.

Blimey, that's...

And you're building
a boat for her?

Uh, no. I don't know.

Yeah, I don't know why
I'm building it.

Why do you think
I'm building it?

I've got it.

Look at that.

Appears to be
some sort of black stone.

Uh, do you mind?

I'll get it to Woody.

Brilliant.

Oh, and if you hear
from Bernard and Cecilia,

do let me know. They found a map
amongst Moor's camping things,

and I sent them
to an old professor friend

- to have a look at it.
- Mm-hmm.

Friend is
a strong word, actually.

He's more of an acquaintance.

But he is the most
knowledgeable chap I know

when it comes
to Native antiquities.

- Mm.
- He actually has

an office on Camp Pendleton.

The base was built
on Native land, you know.

- Oh.
- Professor Edwin Wylde
is his name,

and, mm, I dare say

I've not always
enjoyed his company.

He wears an ascot religiously.

And, frankly speaking, Jethro,

the man never shuts up.

He loves to hear himself talk.

It's downright exasperating.

Dr. Mallard

told me all about your case.

More than
I needed to know, actually.

The man loves
to hear himself talk.

It's exasperating.

Ah, I got that

capybara at an estate sale

in Santiago de León de Caracas.

It all started
when I was researching--

Uh, sorry, Professor.

Can I jump in?
We don't have a ton of time.

What do you think about the map?

Ah, yes, the map. Well,

it's definitely old.

It's not very detailed,

but this "X"

here seems
to indicate the location

of your buried skeleton.

So Moor follows a map
to an unmarked grave.

How does he end up dead?

I'm afraid that's beyond
my area of expertise.

How's your search coming along,
Agent Dominguez?

I can't seem to find anything in
here that matches the necklace.

Dr. Mallard was hoping
it'd help us

get the remains
back to Tango's tribe.

Well, I have seen
jewelry like that

linked to the Payómkawichum,
but I'm afraid

Dr. Mallard was mistaken.

A few shells won't be enough

to convince
the NAGPRA Commission.

Can I borrow this?

My tomes have a way
of disappearing

if I don't label them.

Years ago, I had a student
who borrowed

an illuminated manuscript
I acquired on my sabbatical

in the Independent State
of Papua New Guinea,

which reminds me of a story.

Ah, it was

a beautiful morning,
unseasonably warm.

Yes, that's why
I'm calling, Francis!

Because when I go
to use the bathroom,

I don't want the lobby door
locking behind me!

Get rid of
the fricking auto-lock, Francis!

Leroy Gibbs?

Yeah, we're ready
to see you now.

No, leave it. You can
get it on your way out.

Gibbs, thanks for waiting.
Come on in.

Everything all right?

Phone call sounded
pretty intense.

Yeah, new auto-lock in the lobby

is giving me a case of lab rage.

Yeah, you spend all day in here,

by the time 8:00 rolls around,
you got a lot of

- unchecked anger.
- Yeah.

Anyway, how's the wife?

She's fine.

Yeah? None of those L.A. men

found their way
into her bed yet?

No.

How do you know?

Okay, let's take a look here
at the bone fragment

we found in your
dead guy's stab wound here.

It's black obsidian.

And if you
just want my two cents,

Diane's got to get hit on, what,

- eight to 12 times
a day in L.A.?
- Minimum.

You know? But I don't see her
succumbing to the temptation.

What about the skeleton?

Uh, well, uh, Dr. Mallard
said this gentleman

died of blunt force
trauma to the head,

likely during
the Mexican-American War.

We dated the remains to
approximately 150 years old.

The black
obsidian stone fragment,

the residue on it
is also 150 years old,

which means your murder weapon
is probably something

that was buried
along with the skeleton.

Mm.

He's not saying anything.

Yeah. He gets quiet
when he's thinking.

It's like he's listening
to his gut or something.

You want
to summarize it for him?

Yeah.

- So--
- Someone sees Moor
digging up the remains,

kills him with
a 150-year-old murder weapon

from the dig site,
takes off with it.

Yeah, that.

Bye, Gibbs.

Thank God I'm not
socially awkward like he is.

Could you imagine?

Hey, they give you
anything in there?

Yeah. You want me to get
back down to the office--

They gave you a file, huh?

You think I should
make a special kind

of one of these for Ranger Rick?

I gotta get him
to drop the charges on Tango.

Mm.

Aw...

What the...

Auto-lock.

Boss.

Let's go.

Yeah. Go.

Freeze!

What happened?

This guy tried
to steal the skeleton,

and then Phil suppressed him.

- Where's the woman?
- What woman?

We heard a woman screaming.

That was me.
I go into my upper register

whenever Phil
lays down the boom.

He put up a fight, but, uh,

had a lot of pent-up lab rage.

Who the hell is he?

Eugene Cooper.
Do I have the emphasis

on the right syllable?
Is it "EU-gene"

or "eu-GENE?"

- I go by Gene.
- Gene.

- Even better.
- I like that.

Listen, Gene, I'm gonna
catch Agent Dominguez up

on what you did.
Stop me if I get anything wrong,

okay?

- Okay.
- Okay.

So he breaks
into forensics and he--

Through what,
like the side door?

Yeah, and he tries
to steal the skeleton.

- The one that's worth
a ton of money?
- Yeah,

and then Phil karate-chops him.

I'm picturing Phil like,

- ka-pow!
- No, he was like,

ka-pow!

No, he was like,

hi-ya!

It's not funny, Gene.

You broke
into a federal building.

Someone could've gotten hurt.

I did get hurt.

How'd you know
we had the skeleton?

Police scanner.

I heard an M.E. stole remains
from a national park.

I know stuff about artifacts.

A Native M.E. in an area known
for Native American treasure?

I did the math.

Oh.

- He did the math.
- He did the math.

So, what was the plan, then?

Sell the skeleton
to the highest bidder?

Pretty much.

You have another theory.
I can tell.

Come on, what is it?

Gene sees Dennis Moor
digging up the bones.

- Okay.
- So he kills him
to take them for himself.

But before
he can steal them, he hears

the youth rangers coming
and he runs.

Right. And then,
he breaks into our lab

- to finish what he started.
- What he started.

Now, hold-hold on.

I didn't kill anybody.

What were the UFO sounds
going on in the forest

when you were
out there last night?

- I wasn't in the forest!
- Hey.

No need to get aggressive, Gene,

or I'm gonna have
to give Phil a call.

I'm just kidding, man,
you're safe here.

It's getting
kind of silly in there.

It's the Bozo routine.

Works when the guy's a dumbass.

What's gonna
convince Ranger Rick

to drop the charges more,
words or pictures?

If you want it to be good, you
should ask Mary Jo to help you.

Nah, this one's personal.

Tango's whole future
is riding on this.

The order of information,
the wording,

it all needs to be perfect.

That's why
you should ask Mary Jo.

No, I'm telling you,

I was nowhere near the forest.

My-my neighbors can
vouch for me.

- This guy's hiding something.
- Who?

The dumbass. Eugene Cooper.

Okay, Gene,

we're gonna move you
to another room

while we talk to your neighbors.

They're putting him in holding.

This is making my brain hurt.

Come on, probie,
let's go ask Mary Jo for help.

Mary Jo, meet me at my desk.

"How's your day, Mary Jo?"

Fine, thanks.

Dalton Basement got my
answering machine back for me.

That's great.
Meet me at my desk.

Franks, Admiral Cane has
called me twice

asking when
he's getting his M.E. back.

Where is Dr. Mallard?

Ducky is "in the house,"

as they say.

Yes, I'm just acquainting myself

with Professor Wylde's book.

I can practically feel

his pompous self-importance

dripping off the pages.

What is all that?

A file to get Tango's

- charges dropped.
- Mary Jo,

it's gotta project
Tango's character.

Okay, breathe, baby. I got you.

Eureka.

I've found our murder weapon.

Well, a photo of what
I believe it to be, anyway.

The black obsidian blade.

It says here that
tribes of Southern California

were known to use it in battle.

So we'll just need
to confirm with Dr. Téngalkat

that it's Payómkawichum.

We'll have to wait till morning.

No, no, Admiral Cane is anxious
to have you back at your post.

- It's better to go now.
- Yeah, we can't.

Sanders rallied all the
corrections officers against us.

Visiting hours aren't
till 10:00 a.m.

Wait, Joe Sanders?
He's still on the job?

I had a run-in with him
on a case in Mission Park

back when I was in the field.

Worst case of my life,
thanks to him

and his godawful secretary.

I'm pretty sure that she hid
my evidence log in her beehive.

- She had big hair?
- Yeah.

Was her name Moira?

Yeah, Moira.
She's still working for him?

She's manning the desk
at the detention center now.

And her and this Sanders are
still thick as thieves?

Pretty much.

Why?

Moira! How are you, dear?

Lovely to see you again
on what I hope to be

a magnificent day
for one and all.

Agent Sanders is out on patrol.

He told me to radio him
if there was any funny business.

Make sure he gets that,
will you, please?

It's important.

- And this is for you.
- For me?

It's a note.

From our secretary.

Right. I see that it's 9:57,

so we'll just
make ourselves comfortable

for three more minutes.

Oh, your prisoner friend is
visiting with his mother.

Mama Téngalkat's here?

But it's not even 10:00 yet.

She seemed like a nice lady,
so I made an exception.

I look at you

and I see your father.

Stubborn as a mule.

Night before he died,
he was still

making plans
to get those remains back

to the reservation,

like there was any hope.

He would've been
so proud of you, Temét.

But what kind of mother
would I be

if I let you go
down the same path?

Our ancestor deserves
to come home, Ma.

This is a sacred fight.

This life you've built,

honoring all the dead...

...that's sacred, too, Temét.

You need to protect it.

Mama Téngalkat.

Oh, Mikey.

- Oh, Mikey.
- Oh...

Our Tish still
loves you to death.

Still love her, too.

Ma, this is Dr. Mallard.

Ah, your Wednesday phone call.

Forgive me,
I'm at a loss for words.

Your son has told me so many
wonderful stories about you,

I'm a bit starstruck.

Nonsense.

Come sit with us.

No, we gotta get
back to it, we just...

Oh, yes, yes, right. Uh...

The black obsidian blade.

We're hoping to confirm
it's Payómkawichum.

It is.

I've seen ones like this
in many of our records.

Do you think it'll be enough
to convince the commission

to return the remains to us?

- I do.
- Wonderful.

If we can find this blade,

we'll get
the remains a proper burial,

and likely
solve our murder to boot.

What do you say,
shall we leave these good people

and embark on a little
obsidian blade-hunting?

Edwin Wylde.

How do you know him?

Oh, yes. I had
the displeasure of meeting him--

You know him, Mama?

He's an expert
on Indian artifacts.

He also stops at nothing
to hunt them

down and sell them.

He's made a fortune
off our heirlooms.

Be careful of him.

And his partner, too.

A man named Eugene Cooper.

Knock, knock, Professor Wylde.

No, I'm Ned, I'm his TA.

- Can I help you with something?
- Where is he?

Donald Mallard.

Look at that. You let me
get two words in. Miraculous.

Hello, Edwin.

Still torturing
that poor ascot, I see.

Ah. I could say the same thing
about your bow tie.

Okay, I ain't got time
for you two

to be slapping each other
with your fancy gloves.

We caught your partner Eugene

trying to steal them remains
from our lab.

I don't know anyone
by that name.

What about stealing heirlooms
from Native folks?

You know something about that?

Everything I have,
I've acquired legally.

I ain't talking about legal,

I'm talking about moral.

Listen here, Wylde,
you are gonna stand here

in front of God and Ned and
tell me every wrong you done

to every Indian Nation
from here to China

or we're gonna have ourselves

- a problem.
- All right,
Michael, come on.

Let's take him in
for questioning, shall we?

Ned, hand me a tissue, will you?

Last thing I needed
was to be spat on

over some overvalued old bones.

How dare you?

Hey!

Those bones are not overvalued,

you ignorant toad!

I don't understand
what I'm doing in here.

I'm the victim.

The break-in at our lab.

How many times
do I have to tell you?

I had nothing to do with that.

How long have you
and Eugene Cooper

been working together?

I don't know anyone
by that name.

I have no idea who that is.

Mm.

What's up, Wylde?

- Who's this?
- Oh, no use lying.

She pulled it out of me.

What? She's good.

Following Lala's extracted

confession from Eugene Cooper,

Wylde admitted
they had a pre-established--

Excuse me.

A pre-existing
business partnership...

- Hold up, Randolf.
- ...where they mutually were--

What's going on with you?

Are you trying to be serious?

Sir, there is no trying.

I am serious.

Okay, cut it out, you look like

you're about to pass a stone.

Okay, um...

So, basically,

uh, what happened was after
we went to, uh, Professor Wylde

to ask about the map,

he sent his partner Eugene

to try to steal
the remains from the lab.

So which one of them
killed Moor?

Plot twist.

Neither.

Wylde and Cooper,

they had nothing to do
with the original dig

or Moor's murder.

I know, right?
It's fricking nuts.

But Professor Wylde,

he did tell us
that treasure hunters,

they usually work in pairs.

So our new theory is Moor

had a partner

that got greedy and he...

Sliced him
with the obsidian blade.

- What?
- Oh, oh, oh.

We also figured out...

Moor's map?

It's inaccurate.

- No.
- Yes.

It's from after
the highway was built.

You can't tell anything
from it about the 1800s.

So that couldn't be
how Moor figured out

where to dig for the skeleton.

Wylde, he just told us that

to buy himself more time
so he could steal it.

Then how did Moor
know where to dig?

We're working on that now.

Stay tuned for the next update.

Randolf.

That was the most
engaging sit-rep

I've experienced in a long time.

Newsletter be damned.

Keep doing what you're doing.

Copy, sir.

And, uh, send
Dr. Mallard in, will you?

Admiral Cane wants an ETA
on his return.

Oh, shoot.
I forgot to mention that part.

Uh, there was a kerfuffle

at the professor's office,

and his TA decided
to press charges

against Dr. Mallard for assault.

Dr. Mallard assaulted a student?

- No, no, no.
- Oh...

Um, he really only
punched the professor.

The TA just got shoved
in the kerfuffle,

but since the professor's
office is on base,

they sent Ducky to
federal holding to await bail.

What?

Pity they didn't
have any tea, isn't it?

I never took you for
a hot-head, Dr. Mallard.

Neither did I.

But very much like you
and the so-called theft

that started this whole thing,
I wasn't thinking.

I just reacted.

I'm chalking it up
to a bit of "M.E. rage."

I chalk it up to you
being a hell of a friend.

Hey...

we'll be out of here tomorrow.

And I know Franks is worried,

but neither one of us
is getting fired

without a fight.

It's not that. I...

I think if I was to get sacked,

a rather large part of me
would actually be relieved.

You don't want to be Chief M.E.?

I've been telling myself

that Mother is lonely in D.C.,

but the truth is,
she's incredibly social.

The woman's never at a loss
for a brunch invitation.

It's me who's alone.

And getting promoted makes
D.C. permanent for you.

Yes. Exactly.

America is my home now.

Doesn't exactly feel like home.

I never even bought
a proper couch.

How can I commit to a whole life

in a place
where I feel so alone?

Some sage advice?

Get a couch.

Really?

Is that bit of wisdom
passed down through generations?

It is, actually.

You build a home,

other people passing by
see a light on,

they knock on the door

and ask to come inside.

And if they don't...

here's to Wednesday nights.

Well, enough about my trials.

Here we are,

a pair of seasoned M.E.'s
with a 150-year-old case

of blunt force trauma
from the Mexican-American War,

and we have yet to discuss it.

- Blunt-force trauma?
- Yes,

the impacted skull.
Didn't you notice it?

Yes, but it wasn't blunt force
that caused it.

He was shot.

The musket ball was
inside of the skull.

It must've fallen out
in the boot of your car.

That is how Moor and his partner

found the remains.
They didn't need a map.

The musket ball was metal.

Those UFO sounds

the youth rangers heard
were from

a regular old metal detector.

Provided we use
this information to track down

the obsidian weapon,

we'll have the evidence
we need to convince

the commission to send
your ancestor's remains home

and the means

to arrest our killer.

Which leaves but one

lingering loose thread for us,

Dr. Téngalkat.

The question of our own fates.

You got my note?

Oh. Are you Mary Jo?

The one and only.

The file
Agent Franks left on Dr. Tango?

I read it like you asked.

It was... compelling.

Ranger Sanders?

People think
he doesn't like them

for one reason or another.

Truth is, the man's
a life-long park ranger.

That amounts to years
of people poking fun,

years of being disrespected

by other agencies.

It was enough to turn us both
into a couple of hard-asses.

Honey, we know
a little something

about being disrespected.

No one knows

what the heck NIS even is,

and our office just made

the agency newsletter
for the first time

in 20 years.

This thing with Dr. Tango...

it all started

with a whole group of people
being disrespected.

You've worked
with Sanders a long time.

You work that long with a man,

I'm guessing
he'd probably listen to you

about dropping
Dr. Tango's charges.

I'll see what I can do.

Thank you.

Now,

there's another M.E.
in for assault.

You think you can work that, too?

Ducky and Tango both got
a verbal warning.

But neither of them
lost their jobs.

That Wednesday-night missed call
ended with them walking out

of the Mesa Federal Detention
Center like a couple of champs.

But they weren't the only ones
that got to go home.

The remains of Tango's ancestor
were returned to his tribe.

To us, it felt like
at least one thing

in the world was set right.

To us, it felt like

- one sacred moment of peace.
- ♪ I wish ♪

♪ I was homeward bound... ♪

A moment none of us
would ever forget.

♪ Home, where
my love lies waiting ♪

♪ Silently for me ♪

♪ Now every day's an... ♪

Oh, bye, Ducky.

I love your nickname so much.

Until next time, young Jethro.

Oh.

Before Ducky headed
back to D.C.,

he told Lala
I was building a boat.

That made her want
to see it for herself.

He probably thought
she knew me well enough

to answer my question about

why I was building it
in the first place.

It's nice to have one thing
that isn't going anywhere.

♪ Home,
where my thought's escaping ♪

♪ Home, where
my love lies waiting ♪

♪ Silently for me ♪

This is Gibbs, leave a message.

Hey, it's Diane.

Darn it, it's been a day,

and I was really hoping
to talk to you tonight.

But I guess I missed you again.

"You build a home,
other people passing by

"see a light on,
they knock on the door, and ask

to come inside."

That's what Tango said to Ducky.

Back then,
I don't think I understood

what Tango meant by that.

But now, I do.

Far as I'm concerned,

if you're looking
to build a home,

there's no better way to start

than with one thing
that isn't going anywhere.

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