All language subtitles for NCIS.S20E02.Daddy.Issues.WEB-DL.HOTSTAR.id_2

Here we are.

95,000 square feet
of government storage space

surrounded by 60 acres of
protected wilderness.

This place is a fortress
built inside a mountain.

No one gets in,
nothing gets out.

Pretty impressive, huh?
No perimeter fence, I see.

Sir, the entrance to this
storage facility is fortified

with four feet of
reinforced concrete.

Not to mention two
state-of-the-art vault doors

that each require two-factor
biometric authentication.

But no fence.

Is there a problem,
petty officer?

No, sir. It's just
when Senator Edison--

Addison.
When your boss

called my boss about
a routine security check,

I didn't expect
the Spanish Inquisition.

Nobody expects
the Spanish Inquisition.

And just when I thought you
didn't have a sense of humor.

Excuse me?
Monty Python.

Is that your CEO?

I'll just get the
door.

What's in there that requires
congressional oversight anyway?

That's need-to-know.
And you don't.

What the hell?

Are you okay, sir?

Sir, can you hear me?

Stay back.

Sir?

He's dead.

This is Chief
Petty Officer Thompson

requesting--

No. No, don't hurt me.

Don't hurt me.
Please, don't hurt me.

It's a, it's a
Man-Time Monday.

It's a juice...
All right, give me that.

A juice hang.

McGEE: Delilah.
Hey, hon. It's me.

Just dropped
the kids off at school.

I'm stuck in the parking lot.

Again.

Anyway, I forgot the permission
slip for the fall festival,

so if you could grab that
off the kitchen counter

that would-- Whoa, hey!

Thanks, bro!
Jackass!

Sorry, honey.

Some...
..."bro dad"

pulled out in front of me.

I swear, some of these parents

can be a little...

...much.

Got to go.
Bye, babe.

Morning, Tim.

Morning...
Carter.

Maddie's dad.

Uh...

We met the last time
I was traffic volunteer.

Um, should I get
going here?

Ah, no, that's okay, man.

They can go around.
Come on.

Thank you.
Come on.

Hey, I-I-I wanted to
give you one of these.

Here you go. Uh...

McGEE:
"Man-Time Monday"?

It's an
informal hang

for school dads
at a local juice bar.

I have a deal with the manager
to get five percent off.

You should come.

We dads got to
stick together.

McGEE: Well, you know, I would.
But I, I got work.

Oh, that's right,
you're an NCIS agent.

Me and the other
dads would love to hear

some cool crime stories.
I bet.

Yeah, they really would.

Actually,
that may be one now.
Huh? Oh, okay.

Come on, Margie, let's go.

Yes, you.

Hey...
You.

Can I go?
One sec, one second.

White car,
your move.

Lady in blue,
coming thru. Come on.

Severely wrinkled digits.

Mm.

Rules out using a
fingerprint scanner for ID.

I'd settle on a cause of death.

There's nothing obvious here,
but the fingers

do suggest
extreme dehydration.

From what?
You know, it's hard to say.

But rigor mortis has passed,
so this man has been dead

for at least 36 hours.

Well, that's a long time
to be stuck down here.

No wonder his missing buddy
was so eager to escape.

Who gets themselves into
a government storage bunker

but then can't get themself out?

Thieves.
Thieves.

Thieves who aren't
very good at their job.

Sorry I'm late, guys.

I got held hostage
by a, uh, chatty school dad.

Discussing minivans
and comparing dad bods?

No, we prefer the term
"father figures."

But, uh, no. I wish.

Unfortunately, this guy
just wanted to talk about

the usual-- you know,
dead bodies, murder.

The job. Yeah.

People do treat us like
their own personal episode

of Dateline.

another theory about
the O.J. trial...

McGEE:
Exactly.

Talking shop gets old.

People are fascinated by death.

I always end up
changing the subject.

Yeah? To what?

Well, anything, you know?

Uh, kids. Sports. Weather.

You mean, small talk?

Mm-hmm.
I don't know.

That sounds worse than death.

The second intruder
must have been waiting for us

to open the door.

I never saw him coming, sir.
What about

Beltway Bob over here?
Legislative Aide Meeks.

Wasn't much help.

But he did say
the man who hit me

was a white male
with medium build

and a slight limp.

Whatever that means.
Means we can put out a BOLO.

I don't understand it.

When we arrived, there were
no signs of a break-in.

No alarms.
No lights.

And even if the intruders
got in with proper ID,

the security panel would have
still shown an entry event.

Any idea what they were after?
No, sir.

And the inner vault door
was still closed and locked.

We're gonna need it unlocked.
I'll call you back.

Excuse me.

NCIS does not have authorization

to enter this
storage facility.

This is a murder investigation.
And the contents

of this vault are a matter
of national security.

Says who?
Me.

And my boss.
Senator Addison.

I see.

Would that be
the Senator Addison

who's currently under
investigation for taking bribes?

Those charges
are totally false.

Well, the obstruction
of justice charge won't be.

We're going
inside that vault. Fine.

But whatever you see in there,
it stays quiet.

Lead the way, Nic Cage.

National Treasure?

Finds a hidden vault
full of government gold?

Whoa.

I don't think we're
looking at gold.

At least not the kind
that you can spend.

You got to be kidding me.

McGEE:
What do we got here?
Chemicals? Drugs?

Hmm. Ugh. Oh...

Nope.

That's cheese.

Yeah, and the barrel
is filled with it.

They all are.

I-I assure you, NCIS will be
discreet, Senator.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

Uh, appreciate the call.

Will someone explain to me
why the hell I'm getting

angry calls on my personal cell
about cheese?

Bet that's a new
sentence for you.

One I would rather not repeat.

Well, Director,
early this morning two men

were found inside
a government storage vault.

They apparently broke in

just to find themselves
trapped inside.

Was our security that good,
or the thieves that bad?

Well, that's a good question,

especially given what was
inside the vault.

Yeah, and this is
where it gets weird.

McGEE: Turns out,
this bunker is one

of several across the country
where the U.S. government

stores 1.4 billion pounds
of surplus cheese.

I'm sure they have a reason.

Many reasons, actually.

Trade disputes.
Declining dairy consumption.

Overproduction.

So the U.S. government is
subsidizing the dairy industry.

It costs the taxpayers
a pretty penny.

Hence the phone calls.

advertise the program.
Or their personal involvement,

since it usually involves
lobbyists and kickbacks.

In other words,
this cheese stinks.
I was gonna say

it's "no gouda."

Yes, Senator.

Y-Yes.

Cheese puns?
To the director?

I think he appreciated it.

Well, I'd
appreciate answers.

Starting with
why the hell our thieves

were after cheese
in the first place.

Maybe cheese wasn't
the intended target.

According to
the security record,

vault B-117 had cheese.

But six miles away, P-117

had a different kind of
government surplus.

Weapons.

McGEE: Experimental
grenade launchers,

to be exact.

Worth more than dairy.

Well, not only our cheese
bandits got locked inside.

It was the wrong vault.
Hope they don't quit
their day jobs.

Speaking of day jobs,
let's do ours. Right.

I will add extra security
to vault P-117.

Cheddar safe than sorry.

Okay, that's...
Wow.

There we go.

Much better.

Sounds like progress, doc.

Practice makes progress.

It took 16 saline injections,

but I finally got
a usable print.

And our vault victim is...

...Tyson Perkins.

Long arrest record.

Includes breaking
and entering,

grand larceny...

He's a career thief.

Picked the wrong career. Yeah.

Known associates?

Well, it's a long list.

This guy's worked
with all the greats.

He's like the Forrest Gump
of criminals.

So no help in IDing
his missing partner.

What about cause of death?

Well, like 65% of
the world's population,

this man is
lactose intolerant.

Didn't know that was fatal.

It's not. Usually.

But his food allergy
was unusual.

You see,

dairy particles
got into his airways

which caused bronchospasms.

Again,

very rare,
but not typically fatal.

Unless you're trapped in
a sealed room with no fresh air. Exactly.

The added stress triggered
an underlying thyroid condition

which caused
the extreme dehydration

until, eventually,
his body gave out completely

and there was nothing
he could fondue.

You and Knight are rubbing off
on each other.

:
What? What?

No, no one's,
no one's rubbing...

things.

I also found this.
This is pityriasis capitis.

Dandruff?

It was all over his clothing.

But...

this man does not
have a dry scalp.

So it might belong
to his partner.
Kasie ran DNA.

There's no hits.
Well, we can
update our BOLO.

Right, so NCIS is now looking
for a white male, medium build,

with a possible limp
and... flakes.

Wow.

Proper data validation.
Reduced user freedom.

It's beautiful.

And this proprietary
encryption algorithm

actually improves
program security.

Mm. Rare.
Oh, so rare.

Mm.
So boring.

How long have you been
sitting there?

Long enough to question
your taste in art.

What is all this?
Oh, this is root code.

Used in the storage bunker
security software.

It controls the vault doors.

Oh, so it's how
our bad guys got in.
Actually, no.

This software is unhackable

because the person
who wrote it is an artist.

Genius.

A digital da Vinci.

Ooh.

how did our thieves
get into the vault

without tripping the alarm?

Well, it turns out
they had a key.

And not just any key.

Remember,
there was no record

of anybody
entering that vault.

Which means someone had to
tamper with the root code.

And the only way to do that

is with the original
encryption key.

That sounds important.
It is.

Because the only
person who has it

is the one who created it--

Our digital da Vinci.

McGEE:
Which means the thieves

either stole
the key from him...

Or da Vinci willingly
gave it to them,

which makes him an accomplice.

Yep.

And the
security company

just sent over
the personnel file

for their lead
software engineer.

Meet our digital da Vinci,

Carter Landegraff.

You've got to be kidding me.

You know this man?

Yeah, he's a dad
at my kids' school.

Well,
he's also a genius.

And now a robbery suspect.

No, no, that-that
can't be right.

Well, I say we find him
and ask him.

Actually,
you know what?

We don't need
to find him.

I know exactly
where he is.

Looks like that invite
came in handy.

Chatty school dad
involved in a

deadly attempt at
robbery? I don't know.

Well, the best criminals are
the ones you don't see coming.

McGEE:
Yep.
Whoa! Oh, wait.

Sorry, my dudes.

Wait.

Uh... Tim.

Johnny and, uh,
Morgan's dad, right?

Scott's dad?

Yeah, yeah, Owen.

Good to see you again, man.
Good to see you.

Uh, by the way,

don't go in there.
That, uh, chatty dad,

Carter, he's inside.

He will talk your ear off.

Yeah, we hope so.

Blueberry cream.
Extra cream.

:
You're the best, Sam.

Thanks.
I'll put it
on your tab.

Hey Tim!

You came!

And you brought a friend. Cool.

Sam.

Uh...

Two super fruit smoothies
for my new best friends.

On me.

What do you guys want?

Acai? Goji?

We want to talk
to you back at NCIS.

Now.

Tim, is this a joke?

Of course it's a joke.

Uh...

Okay, not-not a joke.

Um, sh-should I call my family

and tell them
I'll be late for dinner?

I'm-I'm sure
this won't take long.

I'm not.

All right. Well, do you mind
if I put this away first?

I promised my daughter
I'd bring home balloons.

Just parked right over there.

Yeah, just make it quick.

Okay. Yeah, balloons are

a big thing
with my daughter. I rem...

How's he doing?
He's still shaken up
from the blast.

But, thankfully,
no one was hurt.

We got a cause yet?

No cameras outside
of the juice bar,

but we did find this
melted onto the gas tank.

Explosive device.

Car's being towed into NCIS.

School dad is
lucky to be alive.

I knew I shouldn't have ignored
that check engine light.

He does know
that minivans

don't spontaneously
combust, right?

Is this some
kind of act?

I don't even
know anymore.

I mean, vault
robberies, car bombs...

Dad is into
something bad.

Yeah, I'm beginning to
think our friendly chat

in the drop-off line
wasn't so friendly after all.

He was asking
about NCIS.

Maybe fishing for info

on our trapped thieves?

Can't say that I miss

the days of trying to
decipher their motives.

As the head of a federal agency,
you must've been popular.

Well, I like to think
it was my charm

and not parents simply
looking for favors.

How could you tell
the difference?

Time, Agent McGee.

Given the chance,

people eventually show you
who they really are.

Uh, look, I-I don't
mean to sound naive...

Too late.

...but does NCIS think
I did something wrong?

McGEE:
Look familiar?

Oh, that's my code.

For vault access control
and physical security.

Security that failed.

Two thieves broke
into a vault

without tripping
the alarm. Wow.

Well, you know it wasn't
a software failure.

My code is...

It's unhackable.
Oh, we know.
No, it's...

it's a work of art.

:
You think so?

McGEE:
Actually, I'm dying to know

how you, uh, hide
your data structures.

It is a funny story.
Yeah,
one that can wait.

Our point is,
someone got into that vault

without leaving a record.

Well, that would require
altering the root code...

...and they would need
the original encryption key.

And I would have had
to have given them

my original algorithm.

So...
Did you?

Of course not.

The algorithm is proprietary

and I'm an independent contractor.

I would never give away
my livelihood.

Especially not to thieves.

And outside
a safe-deposit box,

the only place I store
my original work

is in a hidden and locked...

...partition on my, um...

Huh.

There a problem?

No. No.

Okay, 'cause I'll be
honest with you.

Sounds like there's a problem.

Um...

I lent my laptop to a friend.

Uh, it was
an emergency situation.

But I created
a secure partition, so...

This friend have a name?

I don't want to get them
in trouble.

Wow.
You're a good friend.

Thank you.

But if it was my
minivan that blew up,

I'd be less worried
about my friends

and more worried about me
and my family.

I'll tell you everything.

Um...

I recently lost
some money, okay?

A lot of it, actually.
In-in cryptocurrency?

Yeah, volatile market.

Yes.
But I didn't lose the money

due to supply and demand.

I lost it because it was stolen.

One day it was there,
the day next it was gone.

Everything.

McGEE:
How's that?

You're a coder
for a security company.

True. But everybody has
their blind spots.

And even I don't fully
understand the blockchain.

When I went to the police

with decentralized assets
and full nodes,

their eyes just
kind of glazed over.

Like his are doing
right now.

Hey, hey, I understand
the blockchain.

Mostly.

I have a close friend
with connections.

He agreed to help me
get the money back.

Let me guess.
By using your laptop?

Hello?
Secure partition.

Just give us a name.

My friend is
Kingston Reinhardt.

The Kingston Reinhardt?
The gangster?

I've heard of his supposed
legal troubles.

But I swear,
Rhino's really a good guy.

Yeah. Right up until
he took your laptop

and used it
to commit a robbery.

Yeah, and when that went wrong,
he tried to kill you.

You think...
You think he double-crossed me?

Guys, no. Rhino wouldn't
do that. He wouldn't lie.

Why not?

Well, friends don't do that.

Right?

I am pretty sure Carter
and Reinhardt are not friends.

I mean, look at this.

Just think if Carter's
daughter had been inside.

Yeah, I'd rather not.
From what I can tell,

the explosive was made
using all generic parts.

Nothing remotely traceable.

Someone knew
what they were doing.

You mean, like a known gangster?

Ah.
Kingston Reinhardt.

Mid-level street enforcer with
a rap sheet a mile long.

Weapons theft,
weapons trafficking,

weapons use...

Mm. A bad guy
who likes guns. Yeah.

So why does our
school dad like him?

Well, Carter said

they met at an underground
poker game. They...

they really hit it off.

School dad is also
a card shark?

I guess parents have hobbies.

Looks like this hobby
double-crossed him,

then tried to kill him.

Yeah, Carter's husband
and daughter

have been put into
protective custody

until we find
the man responsible.

How's that going,
by the way?

I was hoping
you had something.

Oh, you mean like...

a known address or a vehicle?

Maybe a bank account
we could use to track him?

You have that?
No!

Kingston Reinhardt is a criminal
who lives in the shadows.

Off the grid. Underground.

Guy's a ghost.
In more ways than one.

Our gangster is dead.
What? Says who?

Says someone who does business
with the Reinhardt family.

See, unlike McGee,

I actually make small talk
with my friends,

so I reached out,
she texted back.

And, apparently, our very bad
man had a very bad heart attack

early yesterday morning.
That would mean

he died and tried to blow up
Carter on the same day?

That's a heck
of a coincidence.

Or maybe
instant karma?

Or maybe we're
missing something.

We need to take
a look at the body.

My friend might have
a problem with that.

NCIS wants to perform
an impromptu autopsy

in my place of business

and you thought
I might have a problem?

Dee, it is just
a quick look.

For a friend?

I blame you.

Hey, I just made the
introduction, all right?

You two decided to be
tennis buddies.

Pickleball.

What do you expect to find
that the local coroners didn't?

Doctor?

I'll know when I see it?
Well, start seeing

because the viewing
starts in five minutes

and the family
is about to arrive.

Mm-hmm,
the crime family.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Uh, we're just...

just making some
final arrangements.

Five minutes in the lobby.
Thank you.

There's sugar cookies
over there, yeah.

There goes my Yelp rating.

Okay,
if I wanted to kill you

and make it look
like a heart attack,

how would I do it?
Based on your BMI,

I'm guessing you were on
some sort of beta blockers,

which interact with
a whole host of drugs.

Most of which cannot be detected

and some of which would cause
a myocardial infarction.

Especially if injected.

Jimmy, I've seen
every inch of this body.

There were no needle marks.

Did you check under
all of the fingernails?

Or how about between the toes?

Don't you dare.

Do you know how hard
it is to get those on?

Oh, come on.
No.

No, no, no.

Um... does he have any tattoos?

On his chest. Why?

The coroner would've noticed
a chest puncture.

No, not if it's hidden
in the ink.

It could be
the tiniest pinprick.

Almost invisible.

There it is.

Here.

This was murder.

So what does that mean?

It means this body
is ours now.

What the hell is

going on in here?
Oh.

Apologize, sir.

It's gonna take another minute.

This is might sound
kind of weird...

Do you have a limp?

I said I don't know
about any robbery.

Well, I'm sure your DNA
will say otherwise.

You know that's treatable?

Julian Reinhardt.

Related to the deceased?

He's my uncle.

Poor Uncle Rhino.

Julian, are you crying?

It's a funeral, okay?

Yeah. Yours.

So we know that you tried
to steal weapons.

But then got stuck
in the wrong vault

where you ended up watching
your partner in crime

slowly die.

What we don't know is

who tried to blow up Carter.

What?

That school dad?
After the robbery went wrong,

someone tried to take out

everyone in connection
to the heist.

We just gotta to find out
who did it.

You or dear Uncle Rhino.

You don't talk
about him that way.

Not at his own funeral.
The man was like a father to me.

Yeah, and you never got
to say goodbye.

Because your dumb ass
got stuck in a vault.

That was an accident!

Shh.

The vault may have been
an accident,

but the car bomb was not.

You got it all wrong.

I would never hurt Carter.

And neither would Rhino.

And why not?

Because Carter
and my uncle were friends.

That's how this all started.

Carter asked Rhino to find
some stolen money.

He agreed to help.

So Carter is
telling us the truth.

All I know is that
Rhino was a good guy.

You know, it's Carter
who's a little shady.

And why would you say that?

Because. You know that money
that Carter was looking for?

That wasn't his
in the first place.

He took the money
from his kid's school.

Oh, McGee is gonna love this.

You need a wingman
in there?
Nah. I got this one.

Tim, why are we, uh...
why are we back in here?

That.

The school fundraiser?

McGEE:
You were the chairperson
to a $500,000

campaign to build
an innovation lab

so the students
can learn how to code.

A campaign
that I donated money to.

Generously, I might add.

So you can understand
why I'm upset.

You stole the fundraising money.

I-- Wait, what?

That money that was stolen
out of your crypto account?

It didn't belong to you.
It belonged to the school.

Uh, no, I can explain--

You stole the fundraising money.

No, I didn't...
And you lied to me.

No!
I thought "friends
don't do that," huh?

We're not friends, okay?

That's why I didn't tell you
about the fundraising money.

You're the only school dad
that actually talks to me

and I was afraid that
if I told you the truth,

you'd jump to conclusions.

Like-like you're doing.
You lied.

I withheld a minor detail
that didn't seem relevant.

Well, it is.

Carter, did you take
the fundraising money or not?

No.

But...

it's my fault that it's gone.

When I volunteered to chair
the fundraising committee,

I didn't realize that I'd be
the only volunteer.

I was all alone.

And after two years,
despite all the bake sales

and the car washes
and the silent auctions,

we were only halfway
to the 500K.

I needed to come up with
a creative way to raise money.

So instead of using
a low-yield savings account,

I moved the funds
into a crypto account.

$250,000?

It's supposed to be
like a bank.

Like all the ads say.

I thought I was doing
something good.

Yeah.

And then a lot of,
a lot of bad happened.

The robbery, the...
the car bomb.

And, I mean, and now
Rhino's dead?
Yes.

And according to his nephew,

he was killed trying to find
the stolen school money.

Well, don't get
too teary.

He was a bad guy.

Even if he wasn't the one
trying to kill you.

So who was?

Well, that's what we need
to find out.

Well, i-if Rhino started
tracking down the money,

maybe he found a lead.

And maybe NCIS could follow
that lead using my laptop.

Except we can't find
your laptop.

Carter, you didn't tell
any other "friends"

about this
crypto account, right?
No.

No, of course not. No.

Mm-mm. Mm-mm.

Okay.

Unless you count Owen.

McGEE:
Owen Belfort.

Wait, the preppy dad
from the juice bar?

Apparently, he was bragging
about cryptocurrency

in the school parking lot

and Carter asked
for investment advice.

So Preppy knew about the money.

And he was at the juice bar

right before the bomb went off.

This guy is full of surprises.

Looks like preppy dad Owen

is a real estate investor

and his last project went bust.

How much did he lose?

Almost 300K.
With interest.

Well, that sounds like motive
to me. We should bring him in.

Really?
The guy ties

a sweater around his
neck for a DMV photo.

If we're gonna
get him to talk,

we'll need concrete
evidence first.

What does a sweater
have to do with it?

Anybody who dresses like that's
got a good lawyer

on speed dial.

a way to tie Preppy
directly to Reinhardt's murder.

Or the stolen money.

I will start working
on a warrant for bank records,

but I'm guessing he's got
a good accountant, too.

Cashmere and perfect posture
do not pay for themselves.

Wait a second.

I might have a better idea.

Kase.

Do you still have that

posture-correcting device
that I gave you?

The one that vibrates
when you slouch.
Oh, my gosh.

Have it? I am
wearing it right now.

I love this little thing.

Oh, you don't
want it back, do you?

I just need
to check something. Okay.

Thank you.

Ugh, what a mess.

Whoever wrote this code
was no da Vinci.

Just what I thought.

Company still hasn't
corrected that security flaw.

What security flaw?

Every time
the device vibrates,

it sends data to the
user's cell phone, right?

Mm-hmm.
Including GPS.

Oh, yeah.
It's how I know

when and where
I slouch the most.

Hint-- It's while
I'm working.

Oh.

Point is, that info
is supposed to be private,

but because of
the security flaw,

anyone nearby
can intercept the data.

And why are you just now
telling me about this?

Because we are going
to use it to find out

where our suspect was
during the murder.

Owen wears
the exact same device.

And you know this because...

We got it from
the exact same place.

A chiropractor dad
gave them away

in goodie bags
at a school event--

"Doughnuts with the Doc."

Parents really like alliteration.

If we can get

within two feet of Owen,
when he slouches...

Then we can get his GPS data.

We just have to find an excuse
to invade his personal space.

Yeah, without drawing attention.

Oh. Wait.
I might know a way.

I have been combing
through Owen's social media.

He is hosting an event

at his house tonight and
all school dads are invited.

Oof. Another dad event.
Oh, come on.

You're the one
who was complaining

that all they ask you
about is your job.

Look at this as
an opportunity for them

to get to know you better.

This could be a whole
new bonding experience.

Whoa.

Fantasy Football
& Father's Night.

How am I supposed
to bond with these guys?

I don't know the first thing
about fantasy football.

:
Or reality football.

Leave that to us, McGee.

We are right here with you.

Well, there's our target.

Looks like it would be
easy enough to get close.

Except he looks like
the life of the party.

Just, uh, just ease your way

into their conversation.

What am I supposed to say to
a bunch of overaged frat boys?

Just tell them the truth.

Your jersey is from
the evidence garage

and the barbecue stain on
your sleeve is actually blood.

Dudes love that.

Hey, hey, O.J.

Didn't expect
to see you here.

First time?
Yeah, yeah.

Hey.
Good to see ya.

Good to see you.

Uh, name is Tim,
actually. Hey.

He's talking about
your jersey.

O.J. Simpson
wore number 32.

Yeah, though I'd like to think
Jim Brown wore it better.

Franco Harris?

Not helping.

You know, speaking of O.J.,

I've always had this theory--

Hear me out. MKUltra

and the Illuminati...

If the glove fits... uh?

All right, everybody, listen up.

Listen up. Settle down.

We've come to my favorite part

of Fantasy Football
& Fathers Night.

The part where we
turn off the football

and talk about
being fantasy fathers.

Now, society loves

to shove us
into these boxes, right?

Well, this is our chance
to break out of those boxes

and talk about the people
that we really want to be.

So join me in the share circle,
get yourself comfortable,

and, uh, remember,
this is a safe space.

Tim, as our first-timer,

why don't you come sit
next to me? Sorry, buddy. Okay.

Sure.

: Don't know
what is happening here.

Looks like our frat dads are
actually enlightened modern men.

Unexpected, but refreshing.

This is your chance, McGee.
He's slouching.

Start downloading the GPS data.

Larry, why don't you
kick us off?
Oh, all right, here we go.

Hot seat. Yes, thanks, O-dawg.

Ah... Let's see, this week

I was not exactly
a fantasy father.

I snapped at my son during
his math homework again...

You know, "a quick temper makes
a fool of you soon enough."

Wise words
from Master Bruce Lee.

Think fast, Timbo!
Ooh.

Thanks. Um...

I'm, I'm gonna pass.

Oh...
House rules.

You can't pass
the feelings football

until you've shared
your feelings.

You got this.

I... think you're
on your own, McGee.

All right.

Okay.

Yeah.

Yeah, actually, I have been
wanting to talk about

something other than the job.

Wh...

Uh, you know what?

Actually, I have
to take this.

Um, would you mind
holding this for a second?

I'll, uh,
I'll be right back.

Thanks, guys.

What happened?
Did McGee get the info?

Not sure.

There was a problem with
"the feelings football."

Huh? The what?

McGee, you okay?

Yeah, I'm good.
I just sent you the data.
Got it.

Putting up GPS tags now.

Okay, we've got preppy dad Owen
at the juice bar.

All right. Well, that's
opportunity for the car bomb.

Now all we need is
Preppy Dad next to Reinhardt

and we got opportunity
for the murder.

Well, that might be a problem.

GPS puts Preppy
in a remote corner

of the Blue Ridge Mountains
for the past six days.

Well, what's in
the Blue Ridge Mountains?

Uh, it's a spiritual retreat
that specializes

in mind-altering experiences.

Aka a sweat lodge for
rich people to drop acid.

Not only was Preppy Dad
not in the same city,

he wasn't even
in the same dimension.

He's not our killer.

You know, he always was
kind of standoffish.

Do you think that
was a real phone call?

I think he just needs a second.

Or maybe Cop Dad thinks
he's too good for us.

What a poser.

Yeah. All right, thanks.

That was the manager
to the spiritual retreat.

He confirmed that the suspect
was there last week.

So, not our killer. No.

And according to
his financial records,

there's no sign
of stolen school money.

Money doesn't just disappear.

I'm not so sure.

I've been trying to track
Carter's cryptocurrency account.

Now, crypto transaction
data is public,

accessible
to everyone.

That's what makes
the blockchain secure.

Well, yeah, usually.

But whoever stole the coin

modified
the verification conditions

to hide their identity.

You know, I've got
Mempool data

given to me
by Kasie here,

but it's going to take me
forever to sort through.

Damn.

I don't know
what that means.

It means I'm not gonna be able
to find the missing money

without Carter's laptop.

I guess the school will have to
update their goal chart.

$250,000 all the way down
to zero.

Yeah, when school parents
find out about this,

they're gonna be
looking for blood.
Yeah.

Carter's.
Poor guy.

Poor guy?

I thought you were one
of those angry parents.

Yeah, I was, but...

I don't know, maybe
I jumped to conclusions.

Did something happen last night
at that, uh, share circle?

Well, let's just say I know what
it feels like to be misjudged.

Right? Carter is very Carter.
But, you know, he means well.

You should tell him that.
What? Now?

I mean, the man's still
our best lead.

Our only lead.

You think he still
knows something?

Or he doesn't know
what he knows.

Maybe a friendly chat
would knock something loose.

You mean small talk?

It's a risk of the job.

Hmm. Sweet or savory...?

Whatever you choose, I'm buying.

:
I got him.

So, uh...

it's nice weather
we've been having lately, huh?

Why are you being social?

Friends do that.

Do they?

So I've heard.

Hey, let me ask you something. Okay.

What is up
with Mrs. Cringler?

I mean, she's giving homework?
In kindergarten?

Thank you.
Let them be kids, right?

Yeah, really.
That's what I say.

But, you know, Johnny and
Morgan seem to love her.

And Maddie, too.
She even insisted on

dressing as Miss
Cringler last week.

Yeah? You got pictures?

Yeah, she got
the glasses right

And the wig.

There you go.

McGEE:
Beautiful daughter.

Yeah, thank you.

I'm very fortunate.

As an independent contractor,
I get to make my own hours

and basically be
a stay-at-home parent, so...

Huh.

That's why I volunteer to do
so many things at school.

Like, uh, Man-Time Mondays?

Yeah, sometimes I just
got to talk to somebody

outside of the house
who isn't five years old. Yeah.

And seeing as how Fantasy
Football Night isn't my thing,

I do the juice bar.

It's just a shame
that no one ever comes.

Never?
Well, Larry came
a few times.

You know, that Dad Bro
who drives the convertible?

Yeah, the one with all
conspiracy theories?

Yeah.
He's actually
nice to me.

He even considered cochairing
the fundraising committee.

Did you ever tell Larry
about the crypto investment?

You're still looking for
a break in the case?

Well, I hate
to disappoint you,

but I didn't tell anybody
else about the account.

Sorry.

In fact, I never even used

my laptop in public
unless I was alone.

Didn't want anybody
looking over my shoulder.

And when I did sign on,
I made sure I used a VPN.

Wait.

You used the Internet
in the juice bar?

Yes.

Uh...

Since nobody ever comes
to Man-Time Monday,

I would usually
get some work done.

But like I said,

I made sure there were
no customers in there.

I'm not worried
about the customers.

Hey, Sam.

Carter. Hey.
Where you been, man?

I haven't seen you since that
explosion out on the street.

What happened?

It's a long story.

But I've been working with NCIS

and they said it was
some kind of bomb.

Crazy, right?

Yeah.

The usual?
Oh, yeah, you know it.

You got it.

Just have to grab some more
whipped cream from the back.

Okay.

So, a bomb, huh?

NCIS know who did it?

At first they thought
it was this gangster type,

but not anymore.

Yeah.

They said they have
another suspect,

but wouldn't tell me
anything else.

Uh-huh.

I'm sure they'll catch
the guy, though.

Everything okay back there?

Yeah.

I think we're all out
of whipped cream.

On second thought...

hold the whipped cream.

Uh-uh. It's over, Sam.

Or should we
call you Hans?

Bet you haven't heard
that name in a while.

Turns out, Sam the manager
is actually Hans Bjurstrom.

A former mercenary

wanted for killing
two police officers

in Stockholm in 2007.

He's been hiding in
the U.S. ever since.

Working various jobs,
keeping a low profile.

Then things got a little
too boring,

so Hans decided to use
the juice bar Wi-Fi

to spy on people's computers.

He saw Carter's crypto
account and password.

Let me guess.
He figured that 250K was

his ticket out of
the service industry?

And into early retirement.

That is, until Carter went to

a dangerous gangster for help.

But then, Hans got nervous
and took him out.

And then tried to
blow up Carter.

He counted on police blaming
Reinhardt, which we did.

Until we found out
the gangster wasn't all bad.

And the juice bar manager
wasn't all good.

Well, time reveals all.

Almost, Director.

The school money's
still missing.

We recovered Carter's laptop
from Hans's apartment.

But McGee and Kasie have not
been able to trace the account.

That's McGee.

Did they find the money?

Not exactly.

Hey.

Sorry I'm late.

Oh. I was afraid you weren't
gonna come at all.

You haven't been
answering my texts, so...

Well, I've been a little busy.

Right. Trying to find
the money. Um... Yeah.

How's that going?

Well, we were, uh...

we were able to find the account
that the money was moved to.

Well, hey, that's good.
Yeah, but then it got

a little complicated.

Okay, that's bad.

Yeah.

By the, by the time
we were able to find the money

and seize the account,

there really wasn't
$250,000 left in it.

Tell me there was at least
some money left?

There was.

$527,000.

Did you say $500...?

And $27,000.

Turns out that Hans,
your juice bar buddy,

moved the stolen money
into his own crypto account.

Well, what can I say?
It's a volatile market.

Wh-- And the school gets
to keep it all?

We had to pull
some strings, but, uh...

Yeah, I think you met
your fundraiser goal.

Thank you, Tim. I--

I-I swear, next time,

I'm gonna stick to
bake sales and car washes.

Yeah, I know you are,
because next time

I'm gonna be your cochair.

In that case, I'm buying.
Come on.

Deal.
All right.

Hey, you know what?
Let's go get some coffee.

Come on.
Really?

Give the juice a rest.
Yeah, come on.

What's wrong with juice?

Nothing wrong with juice,
but you know,

coffee is kind of
a special thing.

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