All language subtitles for NCIS.S19E06.1080p.WEB.H264-GLHF-NHI

He's gonna kill me.
He's gonna kill me.

6:03, Felix.
Coach is gonna kill you.

I'm sorry, Coach.
My alarm didn't go off.

Coach?

Commander? Sir?

♪

This is weird, right?

That's one word for it.

I think it's kind of nice.

Well, looks like
the, uh, new guy

is trying to score
some brownie points.

Or in this case, pastry points.

I think Parker said
these are Polish kolaczki.

Wait, wait, wait.
What if this is a test?

To see who prefers

plain over powdered sugar?

Well, maybe.

What does taking plain over
powdered sugar say about you?

It says I'm hungry.

Hey, I'm serious, guys.
We barely know this guy.

What if he's playing mind games?

Or he's just trying to be nice
his first week on the job.

I'm not that easy.
Me, neither.

Well, now I feel like
I should put it back.

Morning.

Morning.
On it.

Whoa. What's the rush?

You didn't come in to tell us
we have a body, or...?

No. How was everybody's weekend?

Good.

Uneventful.

Same.

Anybody catch
that Nats game last night?

Special Agent McGee.

Yeah. Uh, one sec.

Uh, dispatch has a body.
You want to talk to them?

Um, yeah.

Okay, got it. Thanks.

Guess they don't have
your number yet.

We got a dead sailor at the Navy
Athletic Complex in Norfolk.

Well, in that case, my delicious
mind games will have to wait.

Let's roll.

How did he hear us?

Victim is Navy Commander
Henry Davis,

head of the All-Navy
Sports program.

Worked with some of the
best athletes in the world.

I had a buddy who played
basketball in the Army.

Serious work.

Even more so in this case.

The other military branches,

your sport
is your primary mission.

Navy athletes are
expected to compete

at an international level
while maintaining

their active-duty assignments.

Dual threats.

One of the athletes found him
early this morning.

Yeah, I would say rigor
suggests the time of death

was between 4:00 and 6:00 a.m.

You got a cause of death, Doc?

The only visible wound here

is a blunt force trauma
to the temple.

Whoever, uh, killed him

definitely had their pick
of murder weapons.

You got shot puts, hammers,

javelins.

Headwind and tailwind versions.

Wow.

I didn't have you pegged as
the track-and-field type, McGee.

I contain multitudes,
Agent Parker.

Just curious,
what, uh, type

did you have me pegged as?

Uh, maybe "pegged"
was the wrong word.

Well, in any case,

I don't think that the murder
weapon came from this room.

This wound here
appears to be a burn.

From what?

I'm not sure.

I've never seen dermal stippling
quite like this before.

So what are we looking for?

I don't know.

Then I guess we keep looking.

Commander's office
is right next door.

No, you-you don't understand.

I'm never late.

Why were you this morning?

Coach and I have been
doing two-a-days

to get ready for
the Military World Games.

Time trials are next week.

Practice,
plus my regular-duty assignment.

It caught up with me.

I overslept.

It's hard enough to
handle one career.

You handle two.

I c-- I couldn't do it
without Coach.

So the two of you were close?

I was heading down
a bad path as a kid.

Drinking, fighting.

Joined the Navy 'cause
my guidance counselor

thought it'd
straighten me out.

Well? Did it?

Not really.

I was looking
at a dishonorable discharge

until Coach Davis heard
I was all-state in high school,

asked me to try out
for the Navy team.

Running turned things
around for you.

No.

Coach Davis did that.

He gave me
a place to belong.

Gave me something else
to do other than drink.

You any idea
who might want him dead?

That's just it.

No one would.

I mean, Coach is the...

Coach...

was the best,

on and off the track.

Well, he was the best
on the track, that's for sure.

Commander Davis has quite
the hardware collection.

Ah, must be the awards
that didn't fit

in the trophy case outside.

Hmm. This guy's
a regular John Wooden.

The basketball coach.

I loved his book
on leadership.

Pyramid of Success. Good stuff.

Mm.

I wonder if the commander
read it, too.

Sure seems like he knew
the winning secret.

Speaking of secrets...

You got something?

Hidden compartment.

Drugs.

Yeah.
The performance-enhancing kind.

Testosterone, metenolone.

Wonder what our coach
was doing with steroids?

Commander Henry Davis,
decorated officer

and former
world-class runner himself.

He worked his way up

to become head
of the All-Navy Sports program.

These athletes compete
in everything

from the Military World Games
to the Olympics.

I'd hate to find out
that the drugs

in the commander's desk
had something to do with that.

Could be why he was killed.
Yeah.

Maybe somebody
found out the coach

was doping his athletes,
got upset.

Not athletes.

In addition
to his administrative duties,

Davis coached
one person at a time.

Someone who was
stationed locally

and who he saw
extra potential in.

That narrows down the list.

Davis was currently training
Petty Officer Felix Cross.

We questioned him this morning,

but that was before we knew
about the drugs.

Let's see what Felix
has to say now,

and have him pee in a cup
while you're at it.

Yeah.

Who did the coach
work with before Felix?

Petty Officer First
Class Jamie Anderson.

Now let's talk to him, too.

Let's start
working our way back.

Actually,

Petty Officer Anderson

was killed last year,
not in combat.

Some sort
of car accident.

That makes two dead.
That's a small world.

You got details?
No,

but Anderson's parents
still live in D.C.

Bring them in.
Let's have a chat.

Hi, Jimmy.
Oh, McGee. Great timing.

I was just about to call
Parker down for an update.

Well, I like updates.

Would you like an update?

I would love an update.

Let's do an update.

I finally figured out

what our mystery
stippling was here.

Commander Davis was killed by...

a gunshot.

No entry wound.

That's because there was
no bullet.

This man was killed
by a blank round.

Not the most effective choice
of murder weapon.

No, but it works.

Even blank rounds
aren't entirely blank.

Right, they use a wadding
to hold in the propellant.

Which, in this case,
was gunpowder.

Hence the burn on the temple.

So he was shot point-blank?
Yeah.

The paper wadding
was ejected from the barrel

and shattered his temporal bone.

The bone fragments
pierced the brain.

Death was instantaneous.

Think this could have
been a suicide, maybe?

I didn't find any GSR
on the victim's hands,

so that means
someone else pulled the trigger.

Why try and kill someone
with a blank round?

Eh, starter pistols
could use blank rounds.

At least they used to
before everything went digital.

A track coach murdered
with a starter pistol.

Pretty symbolic.

Maybe the killer
is trying to send a message.

Yeah, but what's the message?

This was taken after
the Armed Forces Championship,

when Jamie broke
the Navy record.

We were so proud of him.

Yeah. So was Coach.

You were close
with Commander Davis?

We considered him family.

He was just as devastated as
we were when Jamie was killed.

Drunk driver.

We're sorry for your loss.

From what we understand,
training

under Coach Davis was something
of, uh, of an honor in itself.

Yeah. Coach only took
the best under his wing.

He had the record
to prove it.

Did he ever...

...use performance enhancers
as part of his training regimen?

You mean, like, steroids.

That's quite an accusation.

We're not accusing anyone.

Well, you'd better have
some proof before you do.

Just the accusation
could disgrace

the entire program.

That's hundreds
of dedicated athletes.

Not to mention our Jamie.

Jamie would never dope.

And Coach Davis wasn't one
to cut corners.

According to phone records,

Commander Davis called
your house two days ago?

Yeah, that's right.
I talked to him.

Ever since Jamie died,

Hank would call us
every once in a while.

You know, to check in, make sure
we were still doing okay.

Did he mention
anything unusual the other day?

Uh, the same old small talk.

We're trying to get justice
for Hank.

Anything he might have said
could help us.

Well, I mean, it's
nothing specific,

but I could tell that he
seemed a little... distracted.

But when I asked what was
wrong, he said he didn't want

to burden us
with his problems.

Any idea what that problem
might be?

Coach wasn't giving us drugs,

and this will prove it.

You guys are way off base.

Look, we're just trying
to find out why he got killed.

Well, maybe the steroids
weren't even his.

Ever think of that?

Yes, but they were
hidden in his desk,

and we couldn't find
anyone else's fingerprints.

Whatever.
You should be out there

trying to catch the killer.

Not wasting time in here.

Hey. Hey.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I get what you're going through.

Doubt that.

Coach was family, right?

Well, I just lost
some family, too.

Yeah?

What did you do?

Well, I didn't pick a fight
with a towel dispenser.

I channeled
my emotions

into something positive.

Something positive like, what,
finding Coach's killer?

Like the time trials
you have coming up.

You run your race,
and you let us run ours.

Running isn't gonna
help me forget.

Do you have a sponsor?

Navy athletes can't sign
endorsement deals.

No, not that kind of sponsor.

The one that you call on
when, uh,

you feel like you're falling
back into old habits.

Like drinking?

It's not like that, man.

Something else on your mind?

Coach.

You asked me who had problems
with him, right?

Well, I wasn't totally
honest earlier.

I saw Coach get into
this argument the other day.

I have never seen him
lose his temper like that.

Who was he arguing with?

Petty Officer Third Class
Kyle Seward.

Also stationed at Norfolk.

And also an All-Navy athlete
in wrestling.

Flyweight?
Actually, this
is an old photo.

He's moved up a few classes.

He went from a skipping stone
to the Rock.

All in less than a year.

Think he had a little help?

Take a look

at his social media profile.

Notice anything?

I notice good form.

Outside of the gym selfies.

Vintage 'vette.

Eh, nice car.

Yeah, too nice. $100,000 car

on an E-4 salary?

Kyle's got a side business.

Maybe that's what the argument

with Coach was about.

He got caught selling?

Or maybe Coach was the customer.

Wouldn't be the first
time someone got

into a fight
with their drug dealer.

Well, I say we bring Kyle in
and ask.

We could, but this
is just theory right now.

If we really want him to talk,

we got to come up with
something concrete.

If this guy is dealing,

let's catch him in the act.

I can go to the gym.

Make him, uh, sell me steroids
and take him down.

I mean, what is he working on
today? Biceps, triceps?

Legs?

According to his
most recent post,

it is "recovery day in the tub."

Even better. I could use
some time in the Jacuzzi.

Great. Mm-hmm.

Thanks.

Don't worry, man.
You'll get used to it.

Then you'll crave it,
bro. Seriously.

Yeah. Okay, yeah.

Yeah, anything to get rid
of this, uh, back injury, right?

Oh, you use the cold to cut
down on the inflammation?

Smart.
Yeah, doctor's orders.

You're Kyle Seward, right?

Yeah, I've seen you
on your social.

You bulked up pretty quick.

Why do I feel like
you don't have a back injury?

You're here for free advice.

I'm here for something else.
Something, uh...

Something I'm willing
to pay for.

I hear
you're the man, uh,

you know, who can find,
uh, things.

Don't know what
you're talking about.

Wait, what's the problem?

You, actually.

Approaching me in public.

Wait, I have needs.

I bet you do, but I guess
you didn't hear: shop's closed.

Hey, I got-- I got cash, man.
I got money.

I got money. You name the price.

Here.

We do this, I never want
to see your face again.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, I can...Yeah.

Uh, yeah, I can live with that.

Meet me out back in ten minutes.

All right, um,
I'm not sure what you're into,

but, uh, I got some options.

I got some old shoes.

Huh? Uh... Oh.

I got some old boxer shorts.

I was actually looking
for, uh...I know.

Something a little more used.
Okay, uh...

Oh. Huh?

An Olympic bronze medalist
wore this for two weeks.

Never washed. I could
let it go for, uh...

$400.

Dude, are you messing with me?
Okay, fine.

$350.

Final offer.

Oh, come on, man.
Get that away from me.

I told you, I had nothing to do
with Commander Davis's death.

We have an eyewitness
who saw you arguing

two days before the murder.

That doesn't mean
that I killed him.

Then what were you
arguing about?

And why were you
selling me dirty laundry?

I thought
that's what you wanted.

I was talking about steroids.

What steroids?

I don't know
anything about those.

Then why were
you and Davis arguing?

Wh...

And did I mention that we are
going to charge you with murder?

Okay, Coach caught me sneaking

into the locker room and...

removing some property.

You mean, women's sports bras?

You sure you wouldn't,

maybe, just rather
confess to murder?

Okay, look, there's a
whole market out there

for people who are really into,
like, unwashed... stuff.

Why?

I don't ask questions.
All right?

I'm just an enlisted sailor
and an athlete

trying to make ends meet, so...

I sell the sweaty items
that the athletes leave behind.

Right, but Davis caught you.

And then you killed him.

No. After we argued, all right,

he said if I stopped selling,

he wouldn't turn me over
to the master-at-arms.

Commander Davis gave
me a second chance,

all right,
and I took it.

I closed up shop.

Well, your trunk
looked open to me.

Those were just
some leftovers.

All right?
I do most of my sales online.

But I shut all of that down.

Jerseys, tank tops, socks.

According to these listings,
they've all been worn

by minor celebrities,
musicians or athletes.

And in Kyle's case,
elite Navy athletes.

According to his
transaction history,

he made almost
a thousand dollars a month

on these things he was
stealing from the locker room.

We are in the wrong business.

You think they have
a law enforcement section?

What? You would really
sell your stuff?

Not everything.

I'm sure I have
a few things lying around.

Wow, I'm really learning
a lot about you.

So am I.

A little too much.

Why don't we focus on the case?

Is Kyle Seward
our killer or not?

We don't think so.

As of two days ago,
he closed his seller account.

He was telling the truth.

And we don't have
any hard evidence

connecting him to the murder.

So this was a wild-goose chase.

Well, not exactly.

See, when Kyle
closed his account,

he left behind some, uh,
pretty angry customers.

How angry?
Well, most of them

were one-offs, but there
were definitely some that were

a bit more obsessed.

Meet NavyFan92.

After Kyle announced
he was no longer in business,

NavyFan92 started sending
hostile messages.

They threatened to break
into the locker room

and steal the old
socks themselves.

Maybe they followed through with
that threat and ran into Coach?

NavyFan92 got a real name?

Working on it.

Then don't let me stop you.

Torres.

Hey. Is this a bad time?

Felix?

Uh, what's going on?
Are you okay?

Y-Yeah.

I was just thinking about Coach.

Sounds like you're doing
more than thinking.

Where are you?

Have you cleared
Coach's name yet?

We're working on it.

What's taking so long?

You don't focus on that.
You just tell me where you are

and I'll come and pick you up.

Hello?

Hey, Kase.

Is that one
of Parker's pastries?

It sure is.

I was wondering who all
was gonna go into that box.

Nice of you to take pity.

Oh, this is not a pity pastry.

This is a motivation pastry.

It'll be my reward

after we figure out
who killed Commander Davis.

Nice.
Mm-hmm.

You find anything
to help us I.D. NavyFan92?

Still working on it.
In the meantime,

I ran the urine samples
for Felix and Kyle,

but both came back negative.

They weren't using.

And we still don't know
where those PEDs came from.

I wish I could help,
but testosterone, metenolone

and methylprednisolone
are all easy to come by,

which makes them
impossible to trace.
Mm.

And the only other item in the
dopp kit was this old ribbon.

"Outstanding
participation."

I got one of these
in a Fourth of July sack race

when I was nine.

No way to tell
who it belongs to.

And the only prints on it
were the commander's.

I hope you like
stale kolaczki.

Maybe not so stale.
You get a lead?

Yeah.

On NavyFan92.

Still no name,
but I have an address.

Seems our obsessed fan had
their purchases delivered

to a mail forwarding service.

Warrant come through
on the shipping records?
Uh-huh.

The packages' final destination
was a warehouse in Anacostia.

All right, send me the address.
Thanks, Kase.

Nice work.
Uh-huh.

Mmm.

Anything?
Mm, no lights.

No movement.

Those doors are fully motorized
with biometric locks.

Not to mention
I'm seeing security cameras

about every ten feet.

You know, this
place is a fortress.

Oh, maybe
our obsessed sports fan

is into something worse
than used jerseys.

All right, well,
I guess we have first watch.

So, you tap-dance, huh?

Excuse me?

Well, my earlier comments
about your "type"

seemed to hit a nerve.

Made me think that maybe
I should look at more

than your NCIS file.

So you found
my high school yearbook.

Didn't realize you were
an all-state champion.

Two-time all-state champion.

You do contain multitudes,
Agent McGee.

You look up Torres
and Knight, too?

I'm working on it.

Might be helpful to know
everybody's hidden talent.

Never know when, uh...
when they'll come in handy.

Looks like someone's home.

Yep.

Excuse us. NCIS.

McGee: Hey, stop!

You okay?
Yeah.

Nice save.
You are light on your feet.

Federal agents!

The hell are we looking at?

Nothing that makes me feel good.

Don't come any closer!

This lab is positively
pressurized

with concentrated oxygen.

One spark and we all go up
in flames.

I'm serious.

Back off.

Take it easy. Easy.

I, uh, I don't know
what's going on here,

but I'm pretty sure
no one has to die.

I would rather die
and destroy my work

than give it to your bosses.

Your work?

Our bosses?

Oh, don't play games.

I have two advanced degrees
and a brain.

You were sent
by the Chinese government.

Credentials say "NCIS."

And my fake I.D.
in high school said I was 35.

You need to get
out of here.

Otherwise my finger might slip.

Look, I can see
that you're, uh...

you're some kind
of a scientist.

And I can see you're not.
Well, all I'm saying is,

instead of making, uh,
premature conclusions,

you should do

what scientists
do best: research.

What are you talking about?

Look, a simple Internet
search would show

that we are legit agents.

I'm not stupid.

Any mercenary
worth their salt

would have a
backstopped identity.

Yeah, that's very true,
but would a mercenary have

a personal home page dedicated
to the Spotted Wood Thrush?

What?

You're a bird-watcher?

Hidden talent.

I'll give you one search.

Okay. Just type in,
uh, "Alden Parker,

bird man."

Find it yet?

Nothing is coming up.

Type "Alden" with--
that's Alden with an "E."

Yes, I got that,
but there's nothing here.

Except a famous ornithologist
Theodore Parker,

but it says here
he died 30 years ago.

Oh, no.

What did you do?

Put it down, put it down.

Please don't kill me.

We've confirmed
that our warehouse scientist

is NavyFan92.

Got an I.D.?

Her real name
is Dr. Astrid Fellowes.

Started up her own biomedical
research company

with Silicon Valley
seed money

but whatever she's working on
is being kept under wraps.

That explains the secret lab.

She doesn't have
a criminal record,

just a PhD in molecular biology.

And a master's in paranoia.

Okay. The whole
"Chinese mercenary" thing

was a big misunderstanding.

I'm just gonna apologize
for that and be on my way.

Sit down.
There was no misunderstanding.

Look familiar?

Hmm.

I've seen those.

You bought those.

A lot of them.

Along with these
winning-game kneepads,

and these running jerseys.

All from the best Navy athletes.

And you seemed pretty upset

when your supply
suddenly got cut off.

You threatened to break
into the locker room?

So?

So maybe you did.

And Commander Davis caught you,
so you took care of him.

Took care of him?

Wait, is that
what this is all about?

You think I actually
killed someone?

Why not? You tried to kill me.

No, that-that
was a mistake.

I... I'm not a killer.

Or an obsessed fan.

I hate sports.

So, all of this is...

for a friend?

They were for science.

Weird science.

I am a geneticist
studying DNA.

I'm using elite athlete genomes
as a baseline,

so, naturally, I need samples.

Worn clothing has lots of DNA.

Can't you join a medical
study or something?

No, it is not
as easy as that.

Genetic research involves
a lot of red tape, regulation,

not to mention the cost.

I found a cheaper shortcut.
Someone was already selling

exactly what I needed.

What exactly are you working on?

Oh.

You won't be working
on anything in prison.

Fine.

I'm working on a way
to detect genetic manipulation.

Uh, that ship has sailed.

We've been modifying crop genes
for decades now.

I mean, in people.

Go on.

The same
gene-editing technology

used to increase plant strength

is now being used on humans,
to increase their strength.

Gene doping.

It's banned in sports and highly
regulated by governments,

but the trouble is, there's
no way to reliably detect

that it is even happening.

U-Until now.

I'm developing the first
universal CRISPR test.

That's what you were willing
to blow us up for?

It would be a scientific
breakthrough worth millions.

And you think China
wants to steal it.

I.P. theft
is their national pastime.

They have been
after my research for years.

I-I have to protect it.

Well, it explains a lot.

Thank you.

Like why you'd be
willing to kill.

I didn't kill anybody.

You know, for a scientist,

you're not giving us
a lot of proof.

Well, I'm not handing
over my research,

if that's what you're asking.

We're asking for an alibi.

Morning, Kasie.

Hey, Nick.

I thought McGee was coming, too.

Yeah, he, uh, had
to take the elevator.

Hey, Kase.

What you got?
What do you got?

I mean, besides a new pimp walk.

I got a hairline fracture
on my fifth metatarsal.

Killing me all night.
I had Jimmy take an X-ray.

Oh. You want something
for the pain?

I got a nighttime cold-and-flu
tablet if you want to feel good.

I appreciate it,
but no, I'd rather

just hear about
our paranoid geneticist.

Well, I got
plenty of that.

As soon as Fellowes
realized her choice

was between an alibi
or the big house,

she gave us access
to her entire research lab.

So, was she telling us
the truth?

Mostly.

I can't say
whether foreign governments

were coming after her,
but she was studying

the DNA of elite Navy athletes.

The science is real.

What about her alibi?
Was that real?

Unfortunately, Fellowes was

in her research lab
at the time of the murder.

So, not our killer.

Uh, a dead end.

So much for sweet rewards.

Torres. Wait, what?

NCIS.

Great.

You can remove the cuffs.

I think they've cooled down
enough.

So, who wants to go first?

Okay, I was just coming out here
to clear my head

and get some cardio,
the next thing I know,

he's all in my face
trying to start something.

I did start something.

Finished it, too.

Why?
He fought with Coach,
so I fought with him.

Okay, I told you I had nothing
to do with what happened to him!

Yo, man, get out of my face.
Okay, okay.

Hey! Hey!
That's enough, from both of you!

He's lucky I don't
press charges, man!
Stand down.

What's the matter with you?

You told me
to channel my emotions.

Into running.

Why do you even care what I do?

Because I've been
where you are, man,

and I know how hard it is
to ask for help.

I don't want your help.

I want you
to clear Coach's name.

I need to know he was the man
I thought he was,

because if I was wrong
about him,

then maybe he was wrong
about me.

Maybe I don't deserve
to be out here.

Maybe I don't belong out here.

Don't say that, okay?
Don't-don't go there.

You got talent.

Doesn't matter. I'm done.

Done with-with you,
with Coach, with all of it.

I quit. I quit!
Come here. Come here.

You want to talk?

About?
Felix.

He is gonna come around,
you know.

Why do you say that?

Well, because you're
a good coach.

Said who?
Me.

And Parker.

He, uh, seems to think
it's your hidden talent.

My what?

Have you seen Parker recently?

McGee has.

Yeah, about an hour ago. Why?

Well, he hasn't been
at his desk in a while,

so I'm thinking
he's about to walk in here

at any minute
looking for answers.

Well, we don't have any.

We still don't know
where the PEDs came from

and the scientist's alibi
checked out.

No suspects, no leads.

Which is not what
a team leader like to hear.

Even the, uh,
type of team leader

that makes small talk
and offers pastries?

I contain multitudes,

Agent McGee.

Pastry, anyone?

Nobody seemed to like
the, uh, kolaczkis,

so today, we have concha
from the best Mexican bakery

in D.C.,
which is in a gas station.

It's not a bribe,

or a test.

It's just a...
a hidden talent.

I can find the best
international pastry

in any town.

That's your hidden talent?

I didn't say
it had to be useful.

Would you rather
I only come in here

to get upset and bark orders?

A little.

It's what we're used to.

And I get that,
but that's not who I am,

so let's work with what we got.

Except we've got nothing.

Case is at a dead end.

So we fix that.

Let's take a breath,

take a concha

and start
from the beginning.

Who wants to go first?

I will.

Ooh, I may not have found
our killer,

but I earned this.

Mmm.

Mm. I have a lead.

So we're trying to figure out

who was using the
PEDs, right?

But the only way to
figure out who was doping

would be to test
every Navy athlete.

Yeah, that's a whole lot
of samples to collect.

Then I realized we don't
have to collect anything.

We already have
everything we need.

Hmm.

Fellowes's DNA research.

Our paranoid geneticist
was analyzing

shed skin cells.

That means she already
tested every Navy athlete

that's been through that locker
room in the last two years.

We should send her
a thank-you card.

It's already in the mail.

Because I was able to look

through her reports
for signs of doping.

You found some.
Yes.

One. So I ran the sample

through the military
database and got a hit.

The only athlete
to show signs of PED use

was Petty Officer
Jamie Anderson.

The runner who was killed
in a car accident last year.

Well, before then, Jamie
was using testosterone,

metenolone
and methylprednisolone.

The same drugs we found
in Coach Davis's office.

We now have hard evidence

that one of his athletes
was cheating.

This doesn't look
good for Coach.

Oh, and the Navy's
gonna be pretty pissed

when they find out.

Yeah, not to mention
Jamie's parents.

Or maybe they already knew.

Parker, you got something?

Hey, I recognize that look.

That's the same look

Gibbs used to get when...

he figured out something.

Well, I guess
some things never change.

Your son had talent.

Jamie still holds
the Navy record

for two events, right?

Yeah, he left a legacy.

Thanks, uh, for meeting me here
on short notice.

But like I said on the phone,

I think we found something
that belongs to you.

Sorry. I don't
recognize this.

Hmm, that's odd.

I thought it was Jamie's
for sure.

I mean, uh, we found it
in the same bag as his drugs.

Excuse me?

Jamie was doping.

Must be some mistake.

Like I said before,
Jamie would never do that.

Well, you also said that you
didn't recognize this ribbon.

That's two lies.

I'm not lying.

I've never seen that
before in my life.

That's not what your wife said.

We have agents
with her right now,

and she showed them
another picture of your son.

She said Jamie won this
in his first race ever,

and always kept it
for good luck.

That... seems like something
a father should know.

How dare you talk
about my son like this?

I'm talking about you now.

You found out
Jamie was doping,

and you blamed Coach Davis.

No.

He was a trusted mentor,

a father figure.

But instead
of helping Jamie

realize his
potential, he...

...he was addicting him
to drugs. That's...

...that's why you killed him.

Hey. Look.

It's a parent's duty
to protect their child.

Right?

Yeah.

Yeah, but I didn't.

I didn't protect him.

Coach didn't give
Jamie the drugs.

I did.

You doped your own son?

So Coach was the one
who found out?

A maintenance crew
found Jamie's bag

stuck behind an old locker
a few days ago.

Coach saw the ribbon
and the steroids,

and he put it together.

Realized what I was
making Jamie do.

That's why he called you
that day.

Said he was gonna report
the PED use, that...

it was only fair to
inform the other athletes

who competed against Jamie.

Coach was gonna let them
take away

all I have left of my son.

So I showed up early
to the locker room

and I begged him, I begged
him to keep quiet.

And when he still refused,
I pulled out the gun.

And I threatened him.

It was loaded with blanks.

I only wanted
to scare Coach,

but things got
heated and...

I swear to you,
I did not mean to kill him.

I thought sports stories
were supposed to be uplifting.

Well, apparently, not this one.

A promising young athlete
pushed to cheat

by an overbearing parent,
a beloved coach dead.

Yeah, and my foot is broken.

How is that sports-related?

Well, I may never
tap-dance again.

You said it was
a hairline fracture.

You'll be fine by the weekend.

Yeah, well,
it's still gonna hurt.

That was Felix's CO.

The kid is being busted
down a rank for fighting.

That's harsh.
How'd he handle it?

I'm worried about him.

Then we still got work to do.

Is this the part
of the sports movie

where the coach
gives the rousing speech

to rally the team?

I'm not one for speeches,

but I do have another idea
to keep everybody in the game.

Does it involve baked goods?

It involves you, Agent Torres.

Thank you for coming.

What are we doing here?

Well, I wanted to let you know
that, uh,

we cleared
Commander Davis's name.

I heard. Thanks, I guess.

You were right about him.

He's still gone.

And you're
still here.

Right where you belong.

Nah, I can't race without Coach.

Well, he believed in you.

Not many people do.

That's where you're wrong.

Wait, What's going on?
What are they doing here?

Well, they're here
to watch a race.

You and me, right
here, right now.

Are you being serious?

Oh, yeah.

You know you'd lose, right?

Oh, for sure.

But win or lose,
you got to finish strong, baby.

Coach could be cheesy.

You're on.

Sure you don't want to join
them? Give them a few pointers?

Maybe next time.

What am I missing?

Agent Knight here was a college
track star. Division I.

Really? You never told us,
this whole time.

Humility is one
of my hidden talents.

All right, I need someone

to count us off.

You want the honors, McGee?

Nah. You go.

All right.

On your mark, get set...

go!

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