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Hey!

Oh. Thank God, thank God.

I don't get it.

I mean, the Velcro actually
makes it pretty practical.

Not the wallet, the witnesses.

A hundred sunbathers, and
HPD hasn't found anyone

who actually saw the shooting.

That doesn't surprise me.

Shell casings forensics found

were from a .45... makes a big...

Folks get scared and run.

Well, it looks like our
victim was being chased

for about five blocks, and
no one helped then, either.

Yeah. People suck sometimes.

HPD's canvassing the shops

and going to get us CCTV footage.

- Think I should join?
- Uh...

Don't ask me, ask the boss.

I told you not to call me that.

- He, uh, prefers "Boss Junior."
- Yeah.

- Nope.
- Little Boss?

How about you just tell me
what we got on our victim?

DLNR is already asking when we can

- get the body off the beach.
- Anytime.

There's nothing here to help
us, unless getting sandwiches

from the grocery store for
lunch every day is a crime.

It does seem a little thin as a motive.

What else do we got on him?

Josh Moore, DoD employee
card has him working

with a Navy contractor
called IRW Procurement.

We've got a call into his supervisor.

Other than that,
there's $32 in his wallet

and a digital watch on his wrist.

So not a robbery.

But likely targeted.

At least two suspects.

One was chasing him, and led
him right to the other, where...

I mean, it's pretty clever.

And ballsy. I mean, right
in the middle of Waikiki?

Yeah, the question is,
why go to all the trouble?

Yeah, one of many questions
I'm gonna have to answer

when I talk to the assistant director,

the mayor's office, the press...

Heavy is the head that
wears the crown, Baby Boss.

Yeah, I'm really ready
to abdicate the throne.

Any word on when Tennant's back?

She's got her final
sign-off appointments today.

So if she passes, then she's back.

And if she doesn't?

Oh. Goodness.

I'm taking early retirement. Hello?

Broken clavicle, broken
rib. Second broken rib.

Stab wound, numerous lacerations,

contusions, concussions.

The size of your file
makes it hard to know

which callus goes with which injury.

I can do a diagram if you like.

And that doesn't even include the
injuries you sustained last year.

Sorry, is Dr. Elson not available?

She just has a clearer understanding

of my history, and
she finds me charming.

She's on vacation in Phuket.

Perhaps exhausted by the
size of your file as well.

Funny.

I wasn't joking.

That said,

I reviewed everything,
including your most recent X-ray,

and given that you're
not reporting any pain

- or diminishment of motion...
- No. None.

... there's no reason,
medically speaking,

that you can't return to full duty.

Assuming that you pass your...

My psych evaluation and my final
clearance interview. Got it.

You've clearly done this before.

Not by choice.

I'll sign the paperwork today.

Thank you.

Special Agent Tennant.

Thank you for your service.

No one's gonna accuse you
of not giving it your all.

I spoke with Josh Moore's boss.

IRW is a contractor providing MREs

and other foodstuffs to ships at Pearl.

They have no access to
top secret information

or big corporate rivalries.

Moore worked in account management.

He was quiet, considerate, well-liked.

And boring.

But nice boring.

Not the kind of guy
you'd want to kill boring.

Which somebody did, in a very

public and brutal way.

We find any witnesses yet?

A handful of merchants
saw some of the chase.

They said suspect number one
was a white guy, kinda big.

Okay. Suspect number two?

A couple of drunk surfers
claim the trigger was a cop.

You're kidding.

No. Dressed in full uniform,
hanging out at the beach.

Oh, they said he was
wearing running shoes.

- Huh. Anyone sober to confirm that?
- No.

- Cameras?
- Nothing that helps.

The one angle toward the shooting

was obscured by palm trees,
and the others confirm

what we already know.

As a rule, nice
accountants don't get chased

through public places and
murdered by fake policemen.

Ernie.

Maybe he can tell us what we're missing.

Hey, Ernie.

How many sessions did you have

with your personal therapist?

Six.

The minimum required.

- The minimum necessary.
- Really?

A man you believed to be
dead kidnapped, tortured,

and almost killed you,

and six sessions later you're A-OK?

Not gonna lie, it was a lot.

And if it wasn't for Maggie Shaw,

I wouldn't be here.

Your former mentor,
and current fugitive.

That's right.

And, yes, she did escape
while in my custody.

I had to do a lot of soul-searching.

But I understand the value
of confronting my feelings

instead of running away from them.

Understanding the value
and actually doing the work

are two different things.

Then I was unclear.

I am doing the work.

My therapist helped.

You've had experiences
few could heal from.

The CIA is very good at
helping field officers

compartmentalize those experiences.

You keep the physical and the emotional

in different boxes
while they're happening.

Then after, you deal with them
separately once the torture stops.

So, physically...

I've been given the all-clear.

And you think I should, too.

That chapter of my life is done.

Adrian Creel is dead,

and he can't hurt me or anyone I love.

Maggie Shaw is gone.

The rest is just...

it's the stuff of life.

We deal with it.

Tell me about the rest.

I just dropped my son
off at the Naval Academy.

He called me asking how to
separate his whites and colors,

so apparently I'm a failure as a parent.

Yeah, kids are supposed
to make us feel that way.

I'll send in the approval.

Good luck in your
administrative interview.

I suspect they'll be
harder on you than I was.

Tell me something good, Ernie.

I programmed the smart
home devices at my condo

to be completely self-sustaining
if I become incapacitated.

Of course, now my smart
home doesn't need me anymore.

Well, can your smart home
tell us about Josh Moore?

No, it can't, but I can.

His résumé, social, bank account...

what do they tell you?

That he's a down the middle
of the plate kind of guy,

which I already knew. Nice and boring.

Exactly, but even boring
people have something

about their boringness that is specific.

A hobby no one cares
for, a movie no one loves.

Moore, however, is generic
in every conceivable way.

At least on paper.

Big college, big major.

Animals and nature on
his socials. No people.

Drives a silver car.

Has a job no one is curious about.

Even his name is instantly forgettable.

Okay, what are you trying to say?

Nobody is this boring.

Not even boring people.

He's not a person.

He's a creation.

One that somebody wanted to kill.

He was living under an alias.

What are you thinking? Spy? Crook?

Well, based on the
single federal IP address

I traced all his info to,

I'm thinking WITSEC.

Hey, Jane Tennant.

Sam Hanna.

What are you doing here?

Waiting for you. I brought coffee.

Ah, well, amazing,

but I have a pretty important
interview inside, so...

Your administrative interview?

That's right. How'd you know that?

'Cause it's with me.

Grab a java. Let's go get started.

Are you actually doing my interview?

Because if not, I am
already 15 minutes late

for my real one back at the office.

I am. Bosses thought because of my

unique life experience,
I'd have a perspective

on the personal nature
of what you went through.

With all due respect,
this is totally different

than what happened with Michelle.

That was a tragedy.

What happened with me is just...

It's nothing?

Broken bones, broken spirit.

Not to mention the
surrogate mother angle.

Getting a little personal there, Sam.

It's all personal. Just different kinds.

What happened with Michelle changed me.

I was focused on vengeance,

until I found the people who took her.

It's a very human response.

And after, everything lost value.

Getting up in the morning,

spending time with the people I love.

Took a while to get that back.

Trauma shows up in lots of ways.

Well, I'm fine. Been cleared.

I know you're smart enough
to say the right thing

to the doctors and psychologists,

- but this is me.
- Okay. Okay.

I'm not "fine" fine,

but I'm fine enough to go back to work.

I need to go back to work.

That's good enough for me.

Really?

'Cause that seemed borderline
lame even as I was saying it.

Oh, it was.

But your team could use your help.

Yeah, I know.

Let's see how it goes, hmm?

Welcome to paradise.

All right, people. What do we know?

Boss? You back?

- Yep.
- Yay.

Most excellent, 'cause I am so tired

of fielding all these boss calls.

Oh, but I'll get this
one for old time's sake.

Special Agent Boone.

Want me to fill you in on our victim?

I got the bullet points.

WITSEC, two-man hit, total cluster.

- That's the gist.
- Hey.

Whistler's on her way over.

She got an actual ID on our victim.

Well, why didn't Marshals
Service give us that?

They're not returning our calls.

Victim's real name was Josh Brenner.

Before moving into the exciting world

of food services, he worked

as a DoD administrator at
the Naval shipyard in Sicily.

Let me guess.

He tripped on some corruption,

came forward and found himself

in the crosshairs of the Sicilian mob?

That is exactly what happened.

His information led to dozens of arrests

and uncovered a $60 million
a year extortion racket.

So he's one of the good guys.

Which makes the Marshals' lack of
cooperation even more confusing.

Yeah, don't take it personally.

They froze me out, too. I got this info

from a friend at Main Justice.

Well, fortunately, I
know someone close to home

who can fill in the blanks.

- Yeah.
- I know.

Hey, Kai.

Tracked down that vegetarian
barbecue food truck

I was telling you about.

Grill Me Now? Shut up.

It's, like, ten minutes from here.

You want to go grab a quick lunch?

Oh, sure. I'm dying to try it.

I also need lunch.

Then you should come.

Mm-hmm.

Except you hate vegetarian food.

That's not true at all. It's
just something I never eat.

- Well, we could go someplace else.
- No.

It's fine. Let's get
wheat-germ sandwiches.

- Hey, I... I...
- Oh, don't worry about it, Kai, she's just,

she's a little weirded out by
the depth of our friendship now.

No. I'm-I'm not.

Especially since it's rooted in food.

Because it's totally my thing.

But I-I'm glad you like
Kai, he's fantastic.

- It's just...
- He was your friend first.

- Mm-mm.
- And you think I'm gonna like him better than you.

Mm-mm.

Kai?

I don't like you better than Lucy.

Yeah, okay.

Does that mean we're getting lunch?

Oh, my God.

Guys.

Maybe circle time is over

and we get back to solving crime now?

- Yeah, yeah, sure. Okay.
- Right.

Is anybody having lunch?

Hey. Crichton.

You are a hard man to reach.

Got to call in a favor.

Sorry, Tennant, but I'm a little busy.

Let's go, Crichton.

Is everything okay?

This your rep?

No. I don't need one.

Sorry. Special Agent in
Charge Jane Tennant, NCIS.

- Mind telling me what's going on?
- Yes, I do.

Seems like you think Crichton's

done something wrong,
and I'm telling you,

I spent time in a lava
tube with this man.

No way he did whatever you think he did.

We're dealing with an
internal matter right here.

Anything to do with the dead
WITSEC witness on Waikiki Beach?

- I'll meet you in the interview room.
- Mm-hmm.

What do you know about our witness?

I know he was murdered
by a two-man hit team.

Which suggested that
his identity was leaked.

And I know that you're
interrogating my friend,

which suggests you think
he is suspected of...

Complicity.

Why would Crichton give up

the identity of a protected witness?

Not just one.

This is the fifth we know about.

Okay, well, it sounds
like you have a leak.

It appears.

Well, it's not Crichton.

According to internal security,

his login credentials were corrupted.

I'm sure there's an explanation.

Which is what I'm about
to find out right now.

Ernie and I got something.

Got to go.

I went through everyone on the island

whose trip originated
in Sicily or nearby.

Well, that's good thinking.
That can't be a big pool.

32 people within the last week or so.

Of that group, seven are
Italian sailors, 23 folks

I would describe as grandparents, and...

these two.

No disrespect to
grandparents everywhere,

because they're totally kick-ass,
but my vote is these two dudes.

According to their passports,
though, they're not Italian.

True, but they're not Ali and
Yousef Hammani from Tunisia.

- Fake passports.
- Looks like it.

All right, we need IDs for these
two guys and their locations.

Okay. Uh, Ernie is working on IDs,

but I think I got a location.

It's the only lodging
in town that takes cash

and doesn't ask questions of
sketchy-looking foreigners.

What, some sort of safe house?

Not exactly.

If these guys are our killers,
why hang around the island?

Well, it's barely been 24
hours since the shooting.

My question is how can they
stand staying in a hostel?

Don't be a snob, Jesse.

I stayed in some very
nice hostels in my day.

Yeah, "very nice" is relative.

Clean and safe is all I needed.

Says the former covert op

who used to sleep in an
abandoned train tunnel?

That was one mission.

Kai's coming out.

Gave us the high sign.

Our suspects are inside.

Okay, we need them alive if
they're gonna clear Crichton.

Don't kill. Copy.

Clerk clearly didn't
care for my local flavor.

Our suspects are upstairs,
but best guess is,

the clerk's warning them about us now.

Okay, copy. We got
all the exits covered.

Except the fire escape.

And one of them's on it.

Suspect one headed to the roof.

- I'm going up.
- Following on ground.

All right, be careful.
He's got a better line...

We got a ground-level rabbit.

- I'll swing around back.
- Go.

NCIS. Stop!

Drop the knife, now!

Gun!

Is everyone okay?

Yeah, we are.

Our suspect, not so much.

Yeah, no. It's just a little scratch.

I-I'll be right there.

Seven stitches is not just a scratch.

Oh, some personal medical
information there, Sam.

Dare I ask how you got it?

You know, I vouched
for you with the bosses.

Said you'd ease back into work.

This is me easing back into work.

All right? I followed procedure.

Agent can't control what
happens in the field.

Maybe this agent doesn't
belong back in the field yet.

Okay.

Starting to sound like a boss right now.

Not a boss.

More of a concerned friend.

You'd do the same for me, right?

I will try and be more careful.

Okay, friend?

Thank you.

Appreciate it.

_

_

_

What is that gesture?

Is he threatening to pull
out their hearts or something?

I don't know. I don't speak Italian.

Do we need a translator?

No.

_

_

Jesse speaks Italian.

_

_

_

_

Hey, you getting him to confess?

Oh, uh, not quite.

_

_

_

_

_

He's upset about his shirt,

but, uh, he says they didn't fail.

He just admitted to murder?

He's more worried about
his shirt than confessing.

Fine, but we need information
about how they found Brenner.

He's more scared of his bosses than us.

You know what to do.

All right, Jess, this guy is a waste.

Just tell him we'll
send him back to Sicily.

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

_

He says they got a message
from the underground.

Underground? Like the dark web?

_

All right, go tell Ernie
where the info came from.

See what he can dig up.

Ciao.

Are you enjoying it?

If puking before breakfast
can be considered enjoyable.

Are you the only one throwing up?

No. It's sort of a group activity.

I think the vomit's
considered team building.

Well, then, congratulations.

How are things at home?

Pretty good.

Hear Julie convinced you to get a dog.

You hear incorrectly.

Well, then she's not trying hard enough,

because I think you're vulnerable now,

with me being gone.

And having another helpless
creature in the house

will make me miss you less?

I'm sorry. Who's the helpless
creature in this scenario?

Okay, we're not getting a dog,

but I will tell Julie
that you're supportive.

You'll break down eventually.

I love you, Mom.

I love you, too.

Hmm.

What a coincidence, Sam.

It's the only gun range open after hours

for law enforcement on the island.

By the way,

people who are fine,

they don't come to the gun
range three nights a week.

- Take it from me.
- Look, if you are this worried,

you shouldn't have cleared me for work.

You're cleared for work.

But not for... what?

Life?

You said it, not me.

Hey.

After Michelle, I was
in the zone for work.

Cold, calculated, kick-ass.

It was after work I was a mess.

I was disconnected from
everything important.

One day, my son called me.

I'd forgotten his sister's birthday.

Completely missed it,
that's how checked out I was.

Look, I'm sorry that happened, Sam.

- Okay? But it's not...
- It never could happen to you?

Sure.

Hope you're right.

All right.

So, then...

what'd you do to get out of the hole?

Transcendental Meditation.

- Oh.
- Mm.

Really? Okay.

Well, that... that's cool.

Helped with my target practice, too.

Wow.

Whatever gets you through the night.

Dude, you look awful.

Ah, gosh, thanks.

And you look like someone
who's had a full night's rest,

a proper shower and some breakfast.

Meanwhile,

I've been to every dirty
crevice of the dark web,

which is such an unpleasant place.

'Cause the Sicilians didn't get
their info from a marketplace,

like most criminals do.

Diving into the murky waters,

receiving illicit information
through a mirrored link.

I feel like I'm in a bad D&D game.

If I roll an 11, can you just skip

to the part where you
tell me what you found?

No. It took me all night to
do this. You need to listen.

Okay. I'm-I'm here for it. I'm sorry.

Good.

Anyway, I couldn't find the
source of the leaked information.

Is that the end of your
story? You-you failed?

No. I couldn't find
the source of the leak

because it's everywhere.

- What's everywhere?
- The U.S. Marshals' information.

They don't have a
leak. They have a flood.

You're saying all the WITSEC
identities are out there?

All of them, as well as everything else

on the U.S. Marshals' database.

Every whistleblower,

criminal transport,
protected judge, lunch lady.

Their closed network
just became open source

for the whole dark web.

This is bad.

Yes, Kai. This is very bad.

So, you're saying our
entire database was breached?

Breached and dumped
right onto the dark web.

Then whoever stole it started
sending emails to interested parties

to let them know that the
information was available.

As a way to earn money?

No money exchanged hands.

Well, so what's the real target here?

It's unclear, at least to me.

- Do you know how they got in?
- Not exactly.

I-I do know Agent Crichton
had nothing to do with it.

They used his login and 75
other agents' logins as well.

I'll restore Crichton to duty.

Still leaves the
question of who did this.

We don't know yet.

We've got to start relocating
prisoners and witnesses,

changing security protocols
for protected individuals.

NCIS is happy to assist here on island.

Thank you.

You can start by
shutting the breach down.

Actually, we want to leave it open.

Are you the guy they keep
around to say crazy stuff?

- At the moment.
- He's sort of the angel on my shoulder these days.

- Hmm.
- Figured I'd share the wealth.

We had a similar data breach
a few years back in L.A.

I discussed it with Mr. Malik here.

We believe if you close the breach,

the suspects will know we found it,

start destroying evidence.

If you leave it open...

We can backtrace it.

Figure out the source of the breach.

- Do you have any leads at all?
- Not yet.

But...

Ernie is the best at what he does.

I really am.

Special Agent Tennant.

Marshal Crichton.

You gonna make a habit out of saving me?

Not unless you need me to.

I hope not.

But thank you.

You're welcome.

Hey, next time we meet,

let's just have lunch
like normal people.

I'd like that.

Ooh, what you got there?

- Mochi.
- Oh.

But not for you.

For Kai again? He's not even here.

Ernie needs my help.

With snacks?

No, but he asked me to bring
my laptop as well as the mochi.

Oh, maybe he needs you to do his taxes.

Or...

maybe he knows I spent time

with the FBI's cyber
technology unit this summer

and wants an assist.

Does that sound like Ernie?

No. The taxes thing is more like him.

Anyway, I'm here.

Uh, and, uh, looking
fantastic, I should add.

Aw.

Still not sharing the mochi.

Oh, thank God.

I am so hungry.

You went to the convenience store,

not the farmer's market, right?

Yes, like you said, and asked for Max.

Ah, thank you.

Is this all you wanted from me?

Of course not.

Close to figuring out
where the hack originated,

and I need someone to
launch a DNS against them.

Well, hackers this good
can easily fend off a DNS.

- But it'll be a distraction.
- Yes.

So I can slip into
their world undetected,

ensuring that they don't fold
up their tents and go home.

Couldn't you have just
done an automated attack?

Well, of course, but...

I'm not sure how good these hackers are,

and they might attack back.

And you think I can fend them off?

Well, maybe, but even if you can't,

they'll compromise
your computer, not mine.

So that's why I'm here.

So you can eat mochi and
not destroy your equipment?

No.

Well, sort of the snacks.

You need to work on your people skills.

I know.

What I wouldn't give to have your gifts.

Not a lot of folks are
both smart and kind.

I wouldn't if I were you.

Whoa.

You been lurking here the whole time?

Lurking holds a lot of judgment.

I'm sorry. It's just, uh...

- What's going on?
- With this coffee?

It's been sitting in
the pot for five hours.

You've been watching
it that the whole time?

I'd brew a fresh pot.

So, are you, uh,
staying in Hawai'i long?

- Depends.
- On?

Tennant.

I'm mostly here to
make sure she's solid.

Uh...

You think she's not "solid"?

Well, you would know better, maybe best.

What do you think?

Ah, I mean, she's...
smarter than most of us.

Tougher, too. So it's hard to tell.

But, you know, she worries.

What do you think
she's worried about now?

That's not for the two of us

to be speculating about
underneath the stairs.

Swift told me you're
like an old-school cop.

Yeah, flat-footed? Or
addicted to doughnuts?

Not averse to shoe
leather and really loyal.

- What are you guys doing back here?
- Oh...

Um, contemplating a new pot of coffee.

Look, if you're gonna be
hanging around this much,

I might as well utilize your skills.

Ernie tracked the Marshals' breach

to a location outside of Vegas.

That's better than a
location outside of Kurdistan.

I'm gonna go check it out.

- I am asking you to come with.
- Oh.

Absolutely.

All right.

This seems like a lot of real estate

for a hacker who only needs a
laptop and an electrical outlet.

Then I guess we should assume
there's more than that to be found.

All right, I'll go check
it out. You stay here.

I'm kidding.

We're lost?

Mm...

Well...

Given the fact that
this is a map of Morocco,

I think they'll agree.

Take your time getting their attention.

I'm gonna check out the
back. Don't do anything crazy.

Who, me?

Hey, I'm totally lost. Can you help?

Please.

I cannot help.

Look, I'm trying to get to a
friend's house near Elk Fountain Park.

I cannot help.

- Is something burning?
- Please go.

Now.

Federal agent.

Sam, you got to speed it up.

Something's on fire in the back.

Federal agents!

Freeze!

Sit. In the chair.

On the ground. Hands on your head.

Hands on your head.

Nope. That one's wasted.

See if you can find one without
a cracked or melted keyboard.

Maybe ask one of those

sad-looking bad guys to help you?

Yeah, well, they've conveniently
forgotten all language.

LVPD is on their way

to take custody of your mute suspects.

Tell them to bring a Russian translator.

Well, if they're not talking,
how do you know they're Russian?

Russian Mob tattoos on the guards.

Plus this place has all the
markings of a hacker farm.

I don't get it.

I mean, you can hack from anywhere.

Why would the Russian
mob put it outside Vegas?

Well, it's obvious they
thought the NSA could detect

whatever it is they're doing.

This way, they just have domestic
surveillance to worry about.

All of that makes me think

that these guys that hacked
into the Marshals Service

wasn't just mischief.

They have a plan.

Eureka!

- What have you found?
- Nothing yet.

But at least I can get into that laptop.

- And he just likes saying "Eureka."
- I do.

Looks like I can download the contents.

Start working on finding
something helpful.

When LVPD gets here

to take custody of these suspects,

we'll load this equipment into the van,

head back to Pearl. Jesse?

- Yes, boss.
- Call the Marshals.

They can close their breach.

Fastest round trip to Vegas ever.

Yeah, I didn't even get to
lose money at the airport.

LVPD ran fingerprints on the
folks from your hacker farm.

Mostly Russian and Eastern European

on long-expired student visas.

No ID on the dead guards at all.

We ran their faces and
DNA through the databases.

Nothing yet.

Try running their tats.

That'll be the fastest way to ID them.

- Each one tells a story.
- Think those stories will help explain

why the Russian mob wanted
to access the WITSEC files?

'Caused we haven't found it.

WITSEC could just be a distraction.

Where's Sam?

Did he stay in Vegas to
watch the new Cirque show?

Well, he is a surprisingly
cultured guy, but no.

He took the rest of the computer
equipment back to the Lair.

You don't have to do this, you know.

Do you have an assistant
genius here to help you? Yes.

But she works for the FBI

and they don't let her
come to play that often.

Then I'm, uh... happy to fill in.

Though I don't know
what we found so far.

Well, that none of the
hacker farm guys were

responsible for the breach.

Seems like they were there
mostly to hide the breach

and destroy equipment.

You know who's behind it?

Well, someone very good at what they do.

But I set up a program to
help root him or her out.

There you go.

Got some time to chitchat?

Sure.

- You staying at a hotel?
- No.

- Rental?
- No.

Tent on the beach?

No, Ernie.

Your conversation is as
forthcoming as your personnel file.

You looked at my personnel file?

"At" is a strong word.

Pretty sure that violates NCIS policy.

Yes, and if I'd learned anything

more interesting than your middle name,

perhaps I'd be worried.

"Man is not what he thinks he is.

He is what he hides."

- I'd like to think I'm not hiding that much.
- Not you.

The... the computer.

I will eventually find
what you're hiding.

I'm not hiding anything, Ernie.

Again, Sam, not talking to you.

But you totally are...

I'm confident that
person we are looking for

was based in Las Vegas.

First of all, hi.

Secondly, "that person"
as in our real hacker?

Exactly.

- So we're going back to Vegas?
- No.

He already left. Or she.

Either way, our suspect has skills,

one of the best I've ever tracked.

Like everyone,

they're mirroring IP addresses
to hide their location.

If mirroring is done by an algorithm,

which this is, it's not
completely foolproof.

Which means you can find them.

No. I can follow them.

I can see that they were
in Las Vegas yesterday.

- Then they left.
- And went where?

Here.

Why?

All right, what's the connection

between the Marshals'
breach and Hawai'i?

- Another WITSEC witness?
- There aren't any.

A federal judge?

Don't need to breach the database

to figure out where a judge is.

No, we're looking at this all wrong.

What if it's not the
intel from the breach

that our suspects care about?

What would they care about?

The protocol initiated
when the breach happens.

Specifically here. Prisoner transfer.

Marshals are moving them for security.

Because breaking a prisoner out
of federal lockup is impossible.

But grabbing one when
they're being moved

to the mainland is much easier.

We need to warn the Marshals.

We'll do it on the way. Thank you.

I don't understand.

Why go through all this
trouble for a single prisoner?

Sounds like a question to
ask after we get to the plane.

Look, Adler, I don't know
what they're planning,

- but we need to stop the plane now.
- We're still trying.

- All right, we're about two minutes away.
- All good?

No. The plane's already taking off.

They're trying to contact

air traffic control,
but the signal's jammed.

These people thought of everything.

That's them.

Come on, Crichton, pick up, please.

Hey, Jane Tennant.

Can I give you a call
back? Little busy right now.

No. You can't.

Listen, I need you to get the pilot

to turn the plane around now.

Yeah, very funny.

I'm serious.

- Turn the plane around now, or...
- What the hell?

Boss, look.

Crichton, are you there?

Brace for impact!

_

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