All language subtitles for NCIS.S20E16.Butterfly.Effect.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_eng_dutch

Late again.

Morning, ma'am.
Sorry I'm late.

The drive-through
at Capitol Cruller

is closed this week
for repaving.

No excuses,
Petty Officer Sheehan.

Smooth seas don't make
skillful sailors.

Yes, ma'am. But maybe
instead of waiting

at the walkup window
for an hour...

I could get your nine-shot,
one-pump mocha chai latte

someplace new.

Or I could get in line earlier.

Attaboy.

I would have been on time
if that old homeless guy

out in the parking garage
didn't heckle me.

What the hell
did I just say?

No more excuses. Yes, ma'am.

It's just that
the old geezer's back

begging for change and he didn't
take no for an answer.

Would that be the "old geezer"

with the snake
and the sword tattoo?

I didn't pay attention. Clearly.

Because if you had,
you would have noticed

that tattoo says
4th Infantry Division.

The old man was Army?

Which means he deserves
some respect.

And a couple of bucks.

Look alive, soldier.

Excuse me, sir?

Hey, you all right?

Oh, my God.

Dial 911!

Sheehan?

911. What's your emergency?

Hello? Hello?

McGee, you're seeing this?

Yeah, man.
This is unbelievable.

Hey, McGee, what was that trick

you told me about getting
your earbuds to work, again?

Uh, hit "forget device,"
then "re-pair device."

All right. Thank you.

Still having problems?

No, it's not me.
It's my dad in Japan.

I made the mistake
of suggesting new earbuds,

and now he texts me
every time they don't work.

Trickle-down tech support.

See, this is why I stopped
giving gadget advice

to my extended family.

Tim, you're missing it.

Ooh, why? What-What's going on?

I just saw a shadow.

Friend or foe?

Is somebody stealing packages

from your front door again?

What? Oh, no, I'm not, um...

I'm not watching my,
uh, doorbell camera.

No, we're watching
a live webcam feed

of a bald eagle's nest
in the Yukon Territory.

Look at that.

Wow. Parker would be proud.

He's the one that
gave us the idea.

And now we can't stop watching.

I can see why.
This is riveting drama.

Right? Eggs are due to hatch
any minute, too.

Now, bald eagle
incubation is 35 days

and we're on day 37.

And plot twist:

the mom has been gone
for like three hours.

Yeah. And we have no idea why.

Or when she's gonna come back.

Like, this is like
a matter of life or death.

Why we can't afford
to look away.

Yeah, life is so...

unpredictable.

Right, but you watching
isn't gonna change

what's gonna happen
to those eggs.

Well, it might.

The positive energy that
we put out in the universe

might affect the outcome.

From three thousand miles away?

It's called
the butterfly effect.

Yeah, it's like science.

If you stop watching,

something bad could happen.

Something bad did happen.

We got a possible
bioterror attack

across the river in Anacostia.

Time to turn
the phones off

and put these on.

And check 'em for tears.

I want this
whole block secured!

This strip mall is now
a containment zone, understand?

The only people
who get in need a badge,

a hazmat suit, and a death wish.

How about two
out of three?

Special Agent Parker, NCIS.

Martinez, MPD.
What are we
looking at, Cap?

Oh, nothing good.

Two MPD officers
responded to a 911 call

from the Navy
recruitment center.

They went inside and
reported multiple bodies.

Alive?
No idea.

Before the officers
could send a full report,

the radio went dead.

And my people
never came back out.

Too fast to be some kind
of accidental gas leak.

We're thinking airborne toxin.

The deliberate kind.

So we evacuated the area
and called for backup.

All right, emergency response
team is right behind us.

They'll coordinate from
out here while my team

and I head inside to identify
the source of the threat.

In that case, you better zip up
that space suit nice and tight.

This place is a death zone.

These people
dropped like stones.

Yeah, but what did it?

There's nothing coming
from the HVAC system,

and the blowers are off.

Oxygen levels are clear.

I got a pulse here.

It's weak, but she's alive.

Same here.

You two start moving
bodies outside

into the decontamination zone.

Knight and I
will check out back.

On it.

We found our hot zone.

I'm counting at least
seven more victims.

Including the two
first responders.

Whatever these people
were breathing in

must have been pretty dense

to fill up an entire
parking garage.

But I'm not showing
any airborne contaminants.

Even at ground level.

We've got a gas cylinder.

Nozzle's wide open
and the gauge is at empty.

Think we found our source.

Oxygen levels are normal.

Whatever was in that tank
must have dissipated by now.

Not before causing real damage.

I'll radio the med team,

make sure they're ready
with extra gurneys.

We're gonna need it.

Just found victim number eight.

Parker?

Over here!

Oh, what the...? Who are you?

We're federal agents.
Don't move.

Medical help is on the way.

Medical help? For what?

They're waking up.

What the hell?

What's the latest, Doc?

The gassing victims
are all receiving

emergency care and undergoing
rigorous medical evaluation.
And?

And so far there appears

to be no serious injuries.
That's the good news.

So what's the bad news?

Well, there appears
to be no injuries at all.

No respiratory distress.

No heart problems. No residual
effects from the gas,

and everyone's
in perfect health.

Why is that the bad news?

Because the doctors have
no idea what happened.

It's hard to diagnose a problem
when there's no symptoms.

Preliminary blood tests
have come back negative

for all common toxins,
chemicals, anesthetics.

So whatever was used inside that
parking garage was uncommon.

Exactly. And the unknown
is always scarier.

And for all we know,
this could've been

some kind of
a terrorist test run.

You're not the only
one that thinks so.

I've been on with NSA, DoD,
Homeland all morning.

I was just telling Agent Parker,

there have been no injuries
so far, Director.

That may be, but we have to
assume that whoever executed

this attack can do it again.

And on a larger,
more deadly scale.

NCIS needs to find out
who's responsible.

Which means we need to find out

what kind of a chemical weapon
we're dealing with.

Actually...

it was bovine tranquilizer.

For cows?

I have processed
the gas cylinder

from the parking garage

and found trace
amounts of xylazine.

A sedative most
commonly used in cattle.

So, veterinarians
use gas?
No.

They use injections.

Because xylazine is only
manufactured in liquid form.

So how does a liquid
sedative become a gas?

You mean a colorless, tasteless,
and slightly minty-smelling gas.

If you say so.

Well, someone clearly
developed a way

to aerosolize the stuff.

And let me tell you,
vaporization chemistry...

no easy task.

So we're looking for someone
that knows what they're doing.

Xylazine is generally
not safe for humans.

But the ppm ratio of this gas

was specifically formulated
to knock a person out

in under 90 seconds.

Without causing any real harm.

Why?
The million-dollar question.

Who would want to create
the chaos and fear

of a bioterror attack without
the usual death and destruction?

Bad guys with a conscience?

Or an even bigger plan. Exactly.

Too bad there's nothing
in the Global Terrorism Database

about cow tranquilizer.

There weren't any
security cameras

in the parking garage either.

So we'll need another way
to identify said bad guys.

Group text?
No.

I get alerts every time
something new happens

with the eagle eggs.

Did the eggs hatch?

Uh, no, but their
mother showed up.

Which is a major relief.

The father showed up.

Oh, cool. That's fabulous.

Did you know that
the male and the female

take turns on sitting
on the eggs?

Okay, bird boy.
You might want to dial down

your notification settings
a little bit.

Actually, that wasn't
a nest notification.

That was Parker
from the hospital.

NCIS has been cleared

for questioning
the gassing victims.

Text Parker and let him know
that I'm on my way.

Except I forgot to turn
my phone back on

after the hazmat operation.

Uh-oh. All from my sister.

Everything okay?

I don't know.

This just says "Call me."

Well, maybe next time

don't make it sound like
a family emergency

if it's not actually
a family emergency.

Love you, too. Bye.

Sorry. My sister needs
a class in text etiquette.

Sign my dad up
for that class.

So, is everything okay?

Yeah, turns out
my dad got into

a bicycling accident
in Japan.

He was fiddling
with his new earbuds

when he veered off the path
and into a bamboo grove.

Well, bamboo is a
good luck symbol.

Well, he is lucky
that he only ended up

with a compound fracture
on his left arm

and he's gonna be fine.

But you would think
a federal agent would understand

the dangers
of distracted driving.

Nobody's perfect.

Yeah.

So, it looks like we have...

ten gas victims
in five different rooms?

How do you want
to handle this?

Divide and conquer?

This was an act of war.

A direct attack
on a U.S. Navy facility

shows intention
to provoke a conflict.

And you know this how?

It's international law.

Captain Boggs, did you see
anything in that garage

that would be able to tell us

who was responsible
for this attack?

No.

Ms. Quinlan,
uh, you said you were

headed to the salon
in the morning?

Yeah. Sorry, it's, um...

been a day.

You can call me Dorothy.

Dorothy, did you
see anything unusual

before you passed out?

Not really.

I mean, unless you count

two guys in a white cargo van.

What about them?

Well, they sped off

right before I started
feeling dizzy, but...

I didn't get
a good look at them.

Do you remember
anything else?

Even the smallest detail?

No. Because before I knew it,

I woke up in this nightmare.

Agents in hazmat suits,

doctors treating us
like plague victims.

And my phone broke
when I collapsed

and now it's not working at all.

Sorry, that's, that's my phone.

I'm dealing with
some family issues.

I know how that feels.

I just want this day to end.

Best day I had
in a long time.

Clean bed, hot shower.

And the food ain't bad either.

Better than that horse meat
we got in 'Nam.

Yeah, I just need to know
if you saw anything unusual

in the parking garage
this morning.

Ever since my
mortar-launching days,

I'm a tad scatterbrained.

That's why everybody
started calling me Shelly.

Okay, I'm gonna give
you a minute.

I promise I'm fine.

It's just a little scrape.

I know, I miss you, too,
honey bear.

Uh, Mr. Billings,
the sooner we finish this,

the sooner you can go
back to your family.

And I promise I'll never
leave your side again.

I love you, too, snookums.

I'm sorry about that.

I haven't seen my wife

since I left the house
this morning, and...

we're not usually apart
for this long.

I picked up on that.

Like I was saying, um...
The parking garage.

Right. I was headed
to the hardware store

to pick up a new toilet
flapper for the

downstairs bathroom.
Uh-huh.

And I never made it to my car...

before, bam, I was
out like a light.

I don't remember a thing.

You know, my wife's
a hypnotherapist.

Maybe she can access

my repressed memories.

I'll come back later.

I got some other victims
to talk to.

Hey, hon.

Hey, where's that
police officer?

Are you the cop looking
into the gas attack?

NCIS. Is there something
wrong, sir?

Hell yeah. I've been robbed.

And you are...?

George Barlow.
I'm a contractor.

I was picking up tools
at the hardware store

this morning
when I passed out.

And when I did,
my keys and cell phone

were securely
attached to my belt.

And now they're missing?

The terrorists that gassed that
parking garage stole my stuff.

Calm down, Mr. Barlow.

It's an awful lot of trouble

for just a set of keys
and a cell phone.

I mean, unless you've got access

to government secrets
or something.

Hey, buddy.
You ain't that far off.

Wait a minute.

The contractor
was being serious?

Yeah, as it turns out,
George Barlow

owns George's
Fish Fountain.

It's a company that
installs aquariums

and water features
into high-end homes in D.C.

Look at this.

"Trusted since 1993."

Yeah, and that's the problem.

See, George offers
an in-home, no-hassle

maintenance program to his
clients and they trust him

with their house keys
and alarm codes.

Keys and alarm codes
that are now missing, huh?

Yeah. Look at
George's client list.

I recognize some of these names.

Exactly. Politicians,
military contractors,

high-ranking
military officers...

High-value targets.

And the keys to
their front doors

are now in the hands
of bioterrorists.

So our bioterrorists
are also thieves.

They flooded the parking garage
with a specialized knockout gas,

then stole keys
and alarm codes

to multiple
private residences.

Some of which belong to high-
ranking government officials.

D.C. power players.

Who are now potential targets.

We've started notifying them
about the security threat.

Good. Because we have
no idea what comes next.

Our bioterrorists
could use their knockout gas

for any number of crimes.

Unfortunately, we still have
no leads on who's behind this.

Other than a vague description

about two men
in a white cargo van.

Find 'em. Find out
what they're planning

before it becomes
another headline.

We'll keep you
in the loop.

Agent Knight.

Would you mind...

staying for a moment, please?

I heard about your father's
little mishap.

Word travels fast.

Well, the NCIS Far East office
is a tight-knit group.

How's your dad holding up?

He had surgery to reset
his broken bone.

And I'm told
that he's doing well,

but the doctors are going to
keep him overnight just in case.

I'm glad to hear it.

Tell him I send my best.

I would, except I haven't

actually spoken
to him personally.

The, uh,
Japanese hospitals

are pretty strict about
their no cell phone use.

If you like,

I could call and ask them
to make an exception.

It's a perk of the office.

You know my dad doesn't like
any special favors.

True.

But I'm asking you.

Well, in that case, bring it on.

Thank you, Director.

You're welcome.

Well, it must be nice to be rich

and have your own,
uh, fountain guy.

Oof. Lifestyles of
the rich and famous.

More like the rich
and hunted. Oh.

So, um, you called me down here.

I'm hoping for good news.

Yes, I did. Because after
having that truck

towed from the strip mall's
parking garage,

I was able to confirm

that our "fountain guy"
was, indeed, the target.

I found this gas flow controller
planted under his truck.

And what does it do?

Exactly what the
name implies.

It controls the
flow of gas.

One hose was attached to the
truck's ventilation system,

the other hose was attached to
the tank of cow tranquilizer.

And the tank was hidden
underneath the truck?

Yes. Until a fitting failed
and the hose came loose.

The tank rolled free,

and instead of gassing
George in his truck...

It filled up
the whole garage.

My guess is, the
thief's original plan

was to steal the
phone and keys,

copy them, and then
return the items

without George ever
realizing what hit him.

Wow. Smart.
Complicated but smart.

Yeah, but since the gas cylinder
accidentally broke free

and caused a bioterror panic,

the thief wasn't able
to do that last part.

Well, that's
good work, Kasie.

Yeah. But I am
not done yet.

Because I also found

a hair follicle in
one of the gas flow hoses.

Left by our thief?

Uh, not sure yet.

I'm running the DNA
through the system now.

Oh, looks like
you got a hit.

Actually, that's...
It's not important.

Uh, Kasie?

Is that what I think it is?

Maybe.

Ever since you showed me
the nest,

I can't look away.

See? I told you, man.

We got to send
all the positive energy.

Every little bit helps.

Mm-hmm.

Ooh. Case in point...

We got a hit
on our hair follicle.

Phillip Legrand, 55.
A known thief wanted by the FBI.

Wanted in connection
with the robberies

of several high-end
homes across the country.

And in every case, homeowners,
uh, slept through the robbery

and woke up to their
jewelry and cash gone.

And they all reported
their houses

smelling "slightly minty."

That's the, uh,
cow tranquilizer.

Looks like Legrand moved
on to robbing the D.C. elite.

Okay, thank you
for the feedback.

Well, speaking
of the D.C. elite,

Knight and I are still
notifying potential targets.

Tell 'em to change their locks.
I am.

They're not happy about it.

They keep blaming NCIS

and asking to
"speak to my manager."

Luckily, uh, no one

has reported any break-ins
or suspicious activity.

You've talked to everybody
on the list?

All but one.

U.S. Senator Constance Miller

is currently on a flight

home from a diplomatic trip
to Ukraine.

All right, get in touch
with her office on the Hill.

Already did. The office said
she'll call back when she lands.

Well, in the meantime,

at least diplomatic flights
have extra security.

We might have another problem.

The office also said

that she has a live-in maid
at her house.

But every time I call,

nobody answers.

Sounds like we better
check out that house.

Hello?

I don't see any movement.

I think I know why.

We got a body.

I think we found our maid.

Got a faint pulse
and a shallow breath.

She's been gassed.

Yeah, Legrand.

He's definitely been here.

And someone still is.

Federal agents!
Hands up!

Turn around slowly!

Who are you?

Agent Knight, don't shoot.

Dorothy?

You have this all wrong.

You broke into the home
of a United States senator.

This is all a misunderstanding.

Using stolen keys
and alarm codes.

Which makes this breaking and
entering and felony theft.

Question is:
do we need to add charges

for committing an act
of terrorism?

What?

You lied to me
at the hospital.

There were no "guys in
a white cargo van."

You planted the gas.

And accidentally gassed
yourself in the process.

We understand plenty.

Lucky for you,
we also understand

that you weren't
working alone.

You were working
for Phillip Legrand.

We might be able to

drop those terrorism
charges if...

you lead us to your boss.

He's not my boss, okay?

You don't understand.

Phillip Legrand is my father.

And he's being held hostage.

If I don't deliver
the hard drive from that safe,

whoever has my dad
will kill him.

Well, maybe we don't understand
as much as we thought.

So you'll help me?

As long as you
tell us everything.

Starting with your father.

He was a chemistry teacher

before he was
a professional thief.

But I didn't know what
he did for a living

until a few years back
when he sold the house,

bought a camper van, and started
traveling around the country.

To rob houses.

He called it early retirement.

I called it
a way to avoid

student loans I'll never
be able to pay back.

So... I joined him.

Breaking the law
didn't bother you?

Of course it did.

But we're not violent criminals.

My dad has a strict code.

We only steal from
people who can afford it.

We only take enough
to travel around

together in
our camper van.

And nobody ever...

ever gets hurt.

You gas innocent people.

I know.

It's wrong.

And here we are.

Here you are.

Where's your dad?

I told you, he was kidnapped.

Last week, I got
an anonymous text

from someone saying
they knew we were thieves.

Wanted to hire us to pull a job.

And how did they find you?
I have no idea.

But working for someone else
goes against our code,

so I turned it down.

And I'm guessing, uh,
that didn't go too well?

Next day, I found
our camper van trashed

and my father missing.

Then I got another text
from the same person.

This time, a new offer.

Steal the hard drive from
Senator Miller's safe...

or my father dies.

And you didn't call the police?

I swear I'm telling
the truth now.

A-And I can prove it.

As long as you can fix
my cell phone.

Shattered screen,
total touch malfunction.

Sounds bad.
Not really.

I can usually fix these
things in under a minute.

But you need, like,
spare parts and tools?

Yeah, I got 'em
all right here.

Federal agent,
best-selling author,

and a smartphone repairman?

Mm-hmm.
Delilah is a serial
gadget killer.

Buttons, screens, batteries...

I'm always fixing
something, you know?

Hear from your dad?

No, I wish. It's my sister.

She heard from him?
Not yet.

But I'm letting her know that
Vance is calling in a favor.

All right, here we go.

We can access
the phone's messaging app.

Dorothy said that
the threatening text messages

were coming from
an unregistered number.

So, maybe a burner phone?

Yep. Here's the text thread
about killing her father.

Just like she said.

Story checks out.

Question is: do we believe her?

You think Dorothy made all
this up, faked the texts?

I think she's
a professional criminal. True.

Would be nice to have
physical evidence

of a kidnapping.
Mm-hmm.

We agree. Just
finished processing

Dorothy's camper van.

We found signs of struggle
and traces of blood.

A match to Phillip Legrand?

It looks like, uh,
Dorothy was telling the truth.

He was taken.

Yeah, but who did it?

I mean, back-tracing
a burn phone

isn't gonna get us anywhere.

No, we got to find out who
wanted that, uh, hard drive.

Yeah, but in order to do that,

we need to know what's
on the hard drive.

Good luck
getting a U.S. senator

to reveal what
she has locked

in her hidden safe.
Well, I'm not making that call.

Me neither.

She's definitely gonna
want to "speak to a manager."

I think we need to go
higher up than that.

Please help yourself
to some traditional

varenyky dumplings,
Director Vance.

There was really no need
to go through

all this trouble,
Senator Miller.

Baked goods are the least
I can do after NCIS

prevented a robbery
in my own home.

Pastry, Agent Parker?

Sure.
One of the perks of being
on the Senate Committee

for Foreign Relations
is traveling

and trying exotic desserts.

Woman after my own heart.

But I'm pretty sure
you're not here for sweets.

You're here to find out
what's in my safe, right?

Uh, we have no intention

of violating your privacy,
Senator Miller.

NCIS only needs
a general idea

of what's on
your hard drive

in order to find out
who wanted it stolen.

Relax. I can do a lot better
than a general idea.

I'll show you
the whole damn thing.

Follow me.

The hard drive is
nothing more than a backup

of my personal
photo library.

I only keep it in this safe

in case the house burns down.

It's just pictures of...

...family, friends, vacations.

Campaign events.

And dessert selfies.

They're valuable to me
but hardly worth stealing.

Well, obviously there's
something about

these photos
that's important.

Well, I can't imagine
what that would be, but

I'm happy to make NCIS a copy.

We would appreciate that.

The hospital's finally
getting back to me

about Agent Knight's father.

Uh, Senator,

my apologies,
I need to take this.

Of course.
I'll get started on that copy.

Thank you.

Glad someone's enjoying
those traditional varenykys.

Frankly, I was
a bit disappointed.

Well, whoever said that
these were traditional lied.

These are baked, not boiled.

You know your pastries.

Mm, I have a sweet tooth.

Is that all that's sweet?

Again, Senator, my apologies.

I need Agent Parker
for a moment.

Everything good in Japan?

No. There's been
a complication.

I don't understand, Robin.
He was fine.

How did this happen?

Okay. Okay, just...

Yeah, just...

Okay, fine, just call me back
if anything changes.

Yeah, I love you, too.

Jess, hey, I just heard.
What happened?

I wish I knew.

One minute my dad was
recovering from a broken arm,

and the next minute

he's having a hard time
breathing, and now

he is now unconscious
and on a ventilator.

Was it a bad drug reaction?

The doctors in Japan

think it's some kind
of secondary infection.

Well, that's gonna require
emergency surgery, ASAP.

Yeah, he's going in now.

But the doctors also told Robin

that if they don't find
the problem soon,

that my dad might...

Okay, okay, all right, hey.

How can I help?
What do you need?

I don't know.

My sister got me a plane ticket
that leaves

for Tokyo tonight.
That's good.

It's a 15-hour plane ride,
so by the time I get there,

my dad might already...

No, Jess, you can't think
like that.
I know.

I just feel useless right now.

I understand.

Trust me.

Tell me you got something
on our kidnappers, Kasie.

I could really use some good
news about someone's father.

You and me both,
except I don't have any.

There was nothing in
Dorothy's camper van

that can tell us
who took her dad.

And the photos
from Senator Miller?

I've been scanning through
her libraries for anything

that might tell us who wanted
this hard drive.

But other than the fact that
she enjoys travel and...

enjoys dessert,
nothing stands out so far.

Somebody wants these photos.

And they want them
pretty badly.

Our kidnapper just sent

another text to Dorothy's phone.

We're on the clock. Yes.

And right now the only way
to find the kidnapper

would be to give them

what they want.

Let Dorothy deliver
the hard drive?

And lead us to the bad guys.

Yeah, that would mean
that we would have to trust

a known criminal who's facing
jail time for felony theft.

You think Dorothy
would try to escape?

I think it's a risk.

It's a risk we might
have to take.

Our kidnapper has started
sending photos.

Are you sure
this is gonna work?

Well, trading the hard drive
for your father

was always the plan, right?

Yes. But that was before.

If the kidnapper finds out
NCIS is now involved...

they'll kill my dad.

We're gonna do everything we can

to make sure that doesn't
happen, I promise.

Why do you care so much
about saving a wanted criminal?

Because my dad taught me
a code, too.

Help those in need
every chance you get.

Jess.

You all right?

Yeah.

It's the kidnapper.

He wants you to meet him
at 11 South King Street

and wait for further instructions.

I'll run the address.

You don't have to.
It's an old office building

my dad and I use
to stash our stolen goods.

Did I forget to mention that?

Why would the kidnapper
want you to go there?

I don't know.

Well, think harder.

This is how we help your father.

Their stash house is an
abandoned office complex.

Dorothy was right.

It should be easy
enough to stake out

while we send her inside.

McGee and I will take
the west, uh, entrance.

I'll take the east.

All right. Here is your copy of
the hard drive to use as bait.

Is the actual data on here?

With some added security.

What's that mean?
What if something goes wrong?

Well, the three of us
are gonna be in contact

with you at all times,

using earpieces.

Everything will be okay.
Just stick to the plan.

About that.

Where's Agent Knight?
I thought she was part of this.

I am.

Jess, I thought you were
getting on a plane.

Change of plans.

What about your dad?

There's nothing
I can do to help him.

Here is where I can help.

You don't have to do this.

It's what my dad would do.

McGEE: It's all quiet
on our side of the building.

How about you?

Nothing here.

Anything from inside yet?

How you doing, Dorothy?

I'm good. I-I think.

Any word from our kidnapper?

I texted him that I'm here.

But still no reply.

So, what do I do now?

Well, he said to await
further instructions, so...

we wait.

If you say so.

Stick to the plan.

Got it.

I'm headed into the area
my dad and I

use as a workroom.

See anything out
of the ordinary?

Just a bunch of stolen stuff.

That my dad and I
are totally going to return.

Yes...

you totally will.

Wait.

There's a note on the table.

What does it say?

You guys better get in here.

Like, now.

Hurry, please.

McGEE:
Sounds like she's panicking.

Everyone move now!

Dorothy?
In here.

Hurry!

Dorothy?

What the hell is going on?

Ask them.

We're being watched.

By who?

Whoever wrote this note.

You guys hear that sound?

It's the gas. Go. Go...

Knight, Knight.
I got you, I got you.

I'm sorry, Agent Parker.

I had to do what the note said.

Hello?

Smart girl.

I did what you asked.

Now where is my father?

Bring the hard drive
to Rock Creek Park.

The Old Quarry Trailhead.

And hurry.

Daddy dearest
won't wait forever.

Hello?

Help.

Dad?

Dad?

Dorothy.

Dad!
Dor...

Dorothy...
Are you okay?

What-what did they do to you?

Where's the hard drive?

Who the hell are you?

I'm the man asking for that
hard drive one last time.

Take it.

Now leave us alone.
It's over.

Not yet.

What the hell
are you doing?

We-we had a deal.
I gave you the hard drive!

And I let your father live.

Just long enough
to get what I want.

Yeah.

NCIS warned me
this would happen.

Probably should've listened
to the good guys.

Who said I didn't?

NCIS.

Drop your weapon, hands up.

I told them about
the gas my dad and I

keep at that office complex.

Instead of
a tranquilizer,

I opened a harmless tank
of compressed air.

We had a feeling
you might be watching.

Are you okay?

Will be.

Nate Billings
of Alexandria, Virginia.

It's not your real name
or your real address.

Outside of a fake ID

and a professionally
Photoshopped family photo,

you don't exist.

Which either
makes you a ghost...

Or a spy.

A spy that got a thief
to do his dirty work for him.

But you didn't
fully trust Dorothy

to steal that
hard drive, did you?

So you followed her

to make sure she did
what you said.

That's why you were
in the parking garage

when the gas was
accidentally released.

Explains a lot.

McGEE:
What it doesn't explain

is why you went
to all this trouble

for a hard drive
filled with

seemingly worthless photos.

Who do you work for?

It's time to call a lawyer.

That's your right.
You got a number?

Try the Russian embassy.

This guy is
working for Russia?

Of course, we can't prove that.
Not officially.

But within hours of calling
the Russian embassy,

they filed extradition papers.

Which means that
"Nate Billings"

is now in the custody
of the U.S. State Department.

And let me guess, they're not
letting us talk to him.

No. Last thing the State wants
is more bad blood with Russia.

Our best lead is gone.

Along with any chance
of finding out

who wanted my photos or why.

I'm afraid so.

That's unfortunate.
Of course,

we'll let you know if any
new information comes to light.

Thank you, Director.

Mm-hmm.

And in the meantime,
Agent Parker,

I trust you'll let me know

where I can get
a proper varenyky.

Gentlemen.
Mm-hmm.

A "proper varenyky"?
Is that a euphemism?

It is now.

Oh, good. You're both here.

Can we help you,
Ms. Hines?
Maybe.

I finished processing
Senator Miller's photo libraries

and I might have found

a connection
to the Russians.

Do these three people
look familiar?

That's Delilah's former TA.

Evelyn Shaw.

And the other two
are Renée and John Watts.

Your ex's kid had

a run-in with them.

We've recently arrested
all three of these people

for being Russian
sleeper spies.

Turns out, they were
active volunteers

on Senator Miller's
last reelection campaign.

And what does this prove?

Technically...

nothing.
Four Russian spies

in as many months,

all with an interest
in the same U.S. senator?

That doesn't sound
like a coincidence.

Sounds like we need
to keep digging.

Yes. But quietly.

Until NCIS has something
that we can prove.

Thank you, Agent Knight.

First time anyone's
ever thanked me

for handing them
over to the FBI.

I meant for saving
my dad's life.

I'd rather face jail time
than lose him forever.

I know how you feel.

Hey. Anything new on your dad?

Uh, he is out of surgery.

And now I'm just waiting
for the doctors

to call with an update.

How about you?

Any updates on your eggs?

Oh, they are not
eggs anymore.

Okay.

That's pretty cute.

Hey, all that, uh,
positive energy paid off.

Yeah.

Let's just hope it travels
further than the Yukon.

Oh, it does.

I just got an update
from the hospital in Japan.

How?

I told them I was
your dad's primary care

physician here
in the States.

It turns out the doctors
found wound botulism

in your dad's arm.

Apparently, after
the bike accident,

some toxic spores
from the dirt

got into the compound fracture
and spread. It's rare.

It's like-like
"what-are-the-chances" rare.
Jimmy.

Is my dad gonna be okay?

Oh, I'm sorry. I-I thought
from my positive outlook here

and giant smile
that it was clear.

Hello?

Hey, Dad.