All language subtitles for NCIS - S12E22 - Troll.en

WOMAN: Are you gonna help me out here?

Feels like I'm eating
the whole thing.

I'm helping.

Mm-hmm.

And it's your turn.

Do you love me...

more than your truck?

Tough one.

But heck, yeah, I do.

[chuckles]

Do you love me more
than your dog?

Now that's not fair.
I love my Betty.

I love my truck.

Then I guess
I love you both equally.

In very different ways,
of course.

[coughing]

You okay?

[coughs]

I'm so sorry.

Why are you sorry? It's...

it's a ring.

It was my grandmother's.

Too soon?

By years.

This is our 11th date.

You haven't even met my parents.

Well, guess this couldn't
have gone any worse.

Look out!

[gasps]

[gasps]

BISHOP:
Morning, men.

Wow. Look at these early birds!

Oh, if it isn't

Jake the snake, who...

takes the cake, never
wakes and bakes and...

I haven't had

my coffee yet.

To what do we owe
the pleasure?

Jake and I decided
to carpool.

And it's been a while,
so I thought

I'd pop in, say
hi to the gang.

Oh... the gang.Oh... the gang.

Yeah. Why?
Is that weird?

No. I mean, maybe.
But... it's okay.

Unfortunately, your, uh,

BFF has yet to join
the gang this morning.

Oh. They really
call us that?You thought I was kidding?

Look, guys, um, maybe
Gibbs and I are starting

to become buddies, kind of,
but, uh, when I say "the gang,"

I mean all of you-- I mean
Jimmy, Ducky, uh, Abby.

Ev... All of you.

We're just messing
with you, Jake.

[chuckles]
Mostly.

To be honest with you,
we're not even remotely

accustomed to anyone
getting close to Gibbs.

Well, I'd-I'd hardly
say we're close.

None of our phone conversations
last more than a few minutes.

Phone conversations?Like on the phone?

Mmm. They talk
almost daily.

Again, very brief
conversations.

TONY: Still, it sounds
like you buddies

are getting...
b-b-b-buddier.

Maybe a second covert operation
in the works?

Funny, I don't remember
the first.

Uh, not covert, boss.
I meant the thing

with the-the Russian intel,
when you and...

you and Fornell were
at the, uh, cabin.

I'm...

I haven't had
my coffee yet either.

Uh, Gibbs.
Uh, glad I caught you.

I was gonna get Ellie
to return this,

but, uh...BISHOP: Yeah, it really did

the trick on our bedroom door.
Silly thing kept

swelling and jamming
and sticking.Mm-hmm.

So many setups to so many
jokes I can't say out loud.Mmm.

No joke. Got a dead Navy officer
in Franconia.

Come on. Let's go.

Then I'll get to work, too.

What about the rest of the gang?

Yeah. Don't you want to say hi
to Ducky and Abby and Jimmy?

Well, I-I imagine
they're busy, too.

I'll catch them
another time.

I'm sure they'll understand.

Victim is Navy Ensign
Janine Wilt, 25 years old.

Crash occurred
just after midnight.

Miraculously,
no witnesses were injured.

Can't say the same for her.

She had to be going awfully fast
to jump the curb

and smash through this place.

Yeah, but her wound is hardly
from the crash.

Her throat's been cut.

Severed the carotid artery.

The poor girl tried
to stem the flow

with her free hand...

but likely bled out
in a minute or two.

There's a hospital not far
from here.

She was probably trying
to get there before she...

McGee, you got an address
for her?

Yeah, that's about
all I've got, boss.

License has her
living in Fairfax,

but the Navy database has pretty
much everything else classified.

Classified?

Keep digging.
DiNozzo.

Yeah. I got a gym bag
in the backseat here.

Sweaty clothes and a cell phone.

No calls in or out
since mid-afternoon yesterday.

Why didn't she call 911
from wherever she was slashed?

I rather doubt anyone would be
thinking clearly when

rapidly bleeding to death,
Mr. Palmer.

"Wherever she was slashed."
That's the question.

No GPS to locate the
starting point of the car.

Boss-- "Gorton Poly Proud."

Oh, Gorton Poly High School.

That's all the way
over in Arlington.

It's about 12 miles from here.

It's in a whole other direction
from where she lived.

DiNozzo, McGee, finish up here.
Bishop, come on.

You're with me.

Principal said to bring these
people to you, Coach Curry.

Thanks, Brad. Get back to class.

What can I do for you?

NCIS.

I'm Special Agent Bishop,

this is Special
Agent Gibbs.

Navy Ensign Janine Wilt.

We understand she works for you.

Volunteers, yeah. We coach
the girls basketball team.

Why? Is she okay?

[voice breaking]:
This can't be.

Janine was just here
last night.

Was it a robbery?
Like a-a carjacking?

What time last night?

Uh, practice ended at 9:00.

She stayed after to work out,
while I graded report cards.

Left a little before me,
11:00 or so?

You see her leave?

She threw me a big wave
when she drove off.

Any idea where she was headed?

Home, I assume.

Was she in a relationship?

No. I mean,
not that I'm aware of.

Between this and her Navy job,
I doubt she could find the time.

And what was her Navy job?

You'd know better than I would.

She was always very private
about that.

Something to do with computers.

GIRLS:
Dragons!

What am I gonna tell the girls?

Janine was
more than a coach.

She was a friend.

Do they really need to hear
that she was murdered?

Until we know more,
maybe just...

tell them
about the car accident.

So basically we have a lost hour
between the time

Ensign Wilt left here
and then crashed her car.

Check street surveillance--
any stops she made--

stores, traffic lights,
hitchhikers.

[phone rings]

Yeah, McGee.
What do you have?

Uh, dug up a little more, boss.
Actually, a lot more.

Turns out Ensign Wilt
was working

as a Cyber Warfare Engineer

with the Office
of Naval Intelligence.

Pretty young for that detail.

Yeah, well, that explains
the classified status.

Well, that's
the "a lot more" part.

Her personnel file went dark
not two weeks ago.

Kind of makes you wonder.

Wonder what
she was working on.

Maybe it got her killed.

Got any daughters,
Director Vance?

I do. I have one.I have three.

If any one of them grows up
to be like Ensign Wilt,

I'll be
one proud papa.

Just a special kid,
in every way.

A kid with a very heady position
at ONI, Captain.

She earned it.

Smart,

squared away, and a knack
for computer analysis

and code-breaking
like I've never seen.

Please.

She had far greater access
to code-word operations

than a lot of our more
experienced hands.

Her file just went dark
two weeks ago.

What was she
working on?

Espada de Satanás.

"Sword of Satan."

Colombian drug ring
moving product

through our ports for years.

That is, until Ensign Wilt
successfully hacked

their Dark Web server and
deciphered their communications.

So is there a chance
that her murder was retribution?

Absolutely not.
We had a joint task force

round up every known member
of the ring.

Every knownmember.

We got them all, Agent Gibbs.

Besides, Wilt's covered status
was enough to protect her.

Not enough to keep us
from tracing her to you.

Gibbs...

If Wilt did track down
the cartel,

it's not a large stretch
to think that they

would've tracked her back.

Is it, Cap'n?

It is kind of interesting if
we really break it down, right?

Right.'Cause, I mean,
there's the age disparity...

Hey, Bish, quick question.
The BFFs.

Are they on the phone
every day?

Are we still on that?

Well, he is.It's not...

every day, Tony.

See? What did
I tell you?

Most Tuesdays

or Thursdays, they just meet
for racquetball.

GIBBS:
Okay, let's have it.

Any luck on the car?

BISHOP: Nothing yet.
The thing about traffic cams

is they only take a picture
when you do something wrong.

We went to the apartment.
No sign of foul play.

Uh, we did bring
her laptop.

I tried opening it there,
but this thing is

a virtual Fort
Knox of firewalls

and security codes.

Run it by Abby.Well, she's tied up

trying to get Ensign
Wilt's car into evidence,

so I called
Cyber Operations

and they have their
best agent on the way now.

I don't know about best, McGee,

but I'm
working on it.

Special Agent Dorneget.

Reporting for duty,
Agent Gibbs.

How's it going, Tony,

McGee...

you?

Bishop.Ah, of course.

I've seen you
around campus. Ned.

TONY:
Look at the Dorney,
all grown up.

Accelerated past probie
to special agent,

graduated to Cyber.

What can I say?
My mom was wrong.

All those years of playing Xbox
finally paid off.

Ah, good.

See if you can make this
pay off, Dorney. Come here.

McGEE:
Oh, and, Dorney, I'm here

if you need help.
Just...

[computer chimes]

Uh-oh.

GIBBS:
Yeah, wuh-oh.

You're gonna be busy, Tim.

What is it, McGee?

It's a whole bunch of
secured e-mails from ONI.

Subject: Ensign Wilt.

It's intel on a drug ring
she helped take down.

Split it up with DiNozzo,
see what's there.

You thinking revenge, boss?

No, I'm thinking
"see what's there."

[grunts]

Rather quiet today, Doctor.
Everything okay?

Yes, I'm enjoying
the silence.

It is nice.

It's different.

We've been at this a while,

and not one
Jack the Ripper comment

or Isadora Duncan comparison...

I'm not a... jukebox,
Mr. Palmer.

Nor do I take requests.

And as to Isadora Duncan,
she was strangled

by her scarf, which got tangled
in the rear axle of a car.

There is no comparison.

What do we have, Duck?

Cause of death confirmed.

A single wound

to the ensign's carotid artery

with a wide blade.

What do you mean "wide"?

Well, see for yourself.

It's not a clean
razor cut,

but, uh, rather sloppy.

The skin around
the incision

is pulled and torn.I'll take
your word for it.

Another point of interest,
Agent Gibbs,

are the nicks and abrasions
above and below the wound.

DUCKY: The killer likely
held the weapon

against the ensign's throat

before delivering
the final slice.

What are those?

JIMMY:
Neck tissue samples.

If any residue was left behind,

it may help
in identifying the weapon.

I was just about
to take it over to Abby.

And still you are here?

Palmer.

Thank you.

ABBY: Whywouldn't Gibbs
thank you, Jimmy?

He thanks us all the time.

No, he always thanks you.

Well, maybe it's just the first
time you actually heard it.

Maybe. Oh, that makes
me feel appreciated.

Well, gratitude
has a way of doing that.

Gibbs likes me!
He really likes me!

[laughs]

That's Sally Field.

I really, really like you,
too, Jimmy,

and I would really like it
if you would take

those tissue samples upstairs

and put them
in the fridge in my lab.

'Cause I have to focus
on this car.

Hope you can figure
out where it's been.

Okay, little deuce coupe...

show me what you got.

Where is Dorneget?

I don't know. We looked up
a minute ago and he was gone.

Gibbs, I found Wilt's car--
running a red light

on Route 7 in Falls Church
at 11:42 p.m.

No other vehicles
on the road, luckily.

Can't see the interior.It's a bad shot, I know.

But... she couldn't
have been stabbed yet.

I mean, both hands
on the wheel.

And this is
a full 20 minutes

before she crashed
into the pie shop.

She wasin a hurry.Let's do this.

At last,
a kindred spirit.

Just fueling up for battle.

Talk about peeling the onion--
I've never seen this level

of security
on a personal computer.

Even for a techie, this
Ensign Wilt was pretty paranoid.

Or afraid of this guy.

Alfredo Montez-- he's
a paroled drug trafficker...

[wry laugh] turned "legitimate"
computer consultant.

What is this?

Well, his main client
was the drug ring.

He created
a secure online network

and messaging system for them.

Not so secure after all.

Not after Ensign Wilt
cracked it.

Maybe he traced her back.
That many aliases,

he could be hiding
in plain sight.

I'll take
the first three.I'll take the next three.

Count me in.
Winner buys dinner.

TONY: Well,
hey there, Alfredo.

Looks like you turned in
your prison jumpsuit, huh?

NCIS! Don't move.

Hey!

Just go ahead.

Just kill me!
Just get it over with.

And why would
we do that?

TONY:
Alfredo...

we're NCIS.

So, like, Feds can't be bought?

[quietly]: That's not
really our style.

You're not gonna kill me?

Your boss says you were off
last night, Alfredo.

Or is it...

Alfonso?

Isn't that the name
you go by now?

And you can't tell us
where you were?

Alfredo.What? I was home.

Yeah, just now,
where were you?

Thinking how relieved
I was that you guys
are legit NCIS.

I thought Espada De Satanás
had sent you.

You thought she
was a hit man?

Hey.

I've been
going crazy.

Hiding out...

laying low ever since
the man hacked the system

that I built for the Colombians.

"The man"?

I swore to them
it was hack-proof.

Then one of your damn white hats
backdoors my server

with a Trojan,
click-jacks my message chain,

and then I got owned
without even knowing it.

Yeah, I hate it
when that happens.

So, you don't
specifically know

whobackdoored your server?[chuckles]

It was you.
The man. Federales. Pues...

And not the individual hacker?

Whoever it is,
he's no Script-Kiddie,

I can tell you that.

[sighs]

Last known cartel member,

but I'm not so sure
that he's our killer.

ABBY [over phone]: Gibbs,
Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs.

GIBBS:
What do you got, Abbs?

Ensign Wilt was not
in this car alone.

How do you know that?

It's hard to see...

but there is a glove print
on this handle

that has our girl's
blood on it.

She ran a red light
with a knife to her throat.

Got any idea
when he got in there?As far as we know,

the sadistic creep
could have been hiding
back here the whole time,

till he decided
to finish her off
and jump out.

What you're collecting's
gonna tell us who it is?

Well, Major Mass Spec's
gonna tell us.

Meanwhile, I've got
some neck tissue

in my fridge I need
to get started on.

[phone rings]Oh, yeah, hits just
keep on coming.

Yeah, McGee.

Hey, Dorny, you need a towel
or a fan over there?

You try navigating this
gauntlet, Timmy boy.

Feels like I just spent hours
running through catacombs

to kill a dragon priest,
only to step outside and have

another dragon land
right on my head.

McGEE:
It's an obscure

Skyrim reference, boss--
it actually makes perfect sense.

Thank you, Elf Lord.

What did you find,

Dragon Priest?

It may be nothing,
but it seems Ensign Wilt

gained remote access
from this laptop

to a home computer

in Annandale
two nights ago.

I sent McGee
the IP address.

I got a name here.

Adem Faruk Korkmaz.

Listed as a
businessman.

Appears to run it
out of his home.

Our girl was poking
around his hard drive
for a half an hour.

Yeah? Doing what?

Only his computer
can tell us that.

Hi.

We're wondering if there is
an Adem Korkmaz home?

Oh. Sure.

[loudly]:
Dad!

It's for you!

He'll be right down.

ADEM:
Who is it, Layna?

LAYNA:
I don't know.

Mr. Korkmaz.

NCIS. We're here
to ask you some questions

regarding some information
linked to your home computer.

Uh, it is a...

it is a business computer.
What about it?

More specifically,
it's about remote access to it

obtained by...

this woman,

Ensign Janine Wilt.

Never saw her before.

And no one has access
to my computer but me.

It's for
business only.

Right. We-we got that.

But you think
maybe it's possible

she could have gotten in
without your knowledge?

No. No, it's quite secure,

and I would know
if someone were tampering.

Well, you would know even better

if you'd let us take
a quick look.

Do you have a warrant?

Mr. Korkmaz,
if it makes any difference,

we're pursuing a murder case.

Ensign Wilt's murder.

I'm sorry.

But I assure you
I don't know this woman,

and she certainly had
no access to my computer.

Mr. Korkmaz...And...

if you don't have a warrant,

there is nothing else
to discuss here.

Nothing suspicious about that.

Let's get that warrant.

Okay, let's hear it-- who is
this guy, what's his business,

what's he hiding?Adem Faruk Korkmaz.

46. Immigrated from
Istanbul in '98.

Granted U.S. citizenship

in '03.

Founded Korkmaz,
an import-export
business in '05.

Importing, exporting,
shipping and receiving, huh?

Possible cartel connection?

Korkmaz Apparel Imports

has been cited twice since '05
for late taxes,

but otherwise,
no criminal record.

And no warrant.

Judge denied
the warrant

on Korkmaz's computer--
he cited jurisdiction

from another agency.

What other agency?

Details are classified.

Classified?Popular word
on this case.

Classified, McGee?
By who?

Take your pick
of agencies, boss.

I mean, it could be FBI,
DEA, Homeland...

NSA.

I just got
called from one

of their people
asking us to back off.

They hold a FISA warrant

to monitor
Korkmaz's dealings with Turkey.

Who was it that called,
Director?Doesn't matter.

What matters is,
NSA Director Conte

is on a red-eye to Geneva.

I will call her
in the morning.
So in the meantime,

I suggest that we
all get some rest.

Forget resting.

Hey.

Long day.
Did you eat yet?

What's NSA's interest
in Adem Korkmaz?

I know you know.

[sighs]

[sighs]

You know better than to
ask me about NSA affairs.

Yet here we are.

We used to talk
about this stuff all the time.

The operative words
there: "used to."

Why are you guys monitoring him?

Like I know specifics.

You're the agency's
lead attorney.And how many

foreign-born businessmen
has NSA followed since 9/11?

Thousands. Millions.

And for a million
and one reasons.

We don't care about millions.

We care about Korkmaz's computer
and its possible connection

to the murder
of a young Navy officer.

[sighs]

And... what happened there?

Well, if NSA wasn't interfering,

I might know the answer
to that, Jake.We're not interfering.

Just maintaining
jurisdiction on a case

that's been ours
for months, years.

Years?

What, you think
this is personal?
Like we suddenly

decided to block you
guys for no reason?

Well, the call Vance
just got was pretty sudden.

Okay, look, no, stop.

You're asking me
to betray my agency.

No, I'm asking for your help.

In a way you never
would have dreamed of before.

Something's changed
here, Ellie.

Something's different.

You're different.

Yeah, everything is different!

I shot a man in Kabul
last week.

I killed him.

[sighs]

Has a way of changing a person.

Wait.

What?!

You...

You didn't tell me.

Why would I?

We don't tell each other
anything anymore.

But...

how, Ellie?

What happened?

It was him or me.

And...

as long as I keep
reminding myself of that,

I can also keep pretending
that I'm fine.

You should have told me.

I could have helped.

Then help me now.

Let go of Korkmaz's computer.

We need it.

Please?

I can't. No.

I'm sorry.

Look, Ellie, you chose to
leave NSA and take this job.

No one pushed you.

I know.

And it's changed
things between us.

But we can work it out.

Right?

[sighs]

[laughter]

That's hilarious, right?

Hey.
Who's the early bird now?

Did you take
the carpool again?

Uh, that beltway
can be murder, you know.

Carpool lane was

flying, though,
wasn't it, McGee?

Oh, yeah, it was flying.

Gentlemen, morning.
TONY:
Oh.

Hey, Jake.

Sit.

I do hate to put you
in this position,

especially with your wife
being an agent.

My wife's job's beside
the point, Director,

and this position is my job.

It's what I do.
Then there's
what wedo.

And the only thing I haven't
been letting you do, Gibbs,

is override NSA jurisdiction,

and we're under no legal
obligation to explain why.

You want my opinion?
Your job sucks.

Gibbs...The longer we go

before checking
Korkmaz's computer,

the better chance we have
a killer gets away.

Okay, then, go ahead.

NSA surrenders access.

Excuse me, did you just say...?

I'll clear it upstairs.

Any repercussions,

I'll take the hit.

Well, you heard the man, Gibbs.
Go get your warrant.

Actually, let me
save you a step.

Is this what I think it is?

I have no idea.

This is like a nightmare.

You have no right
to search my data.

What are you afraid
we're gonna find?

I make my living
on that machine.

If your people corrupt my files,
it could ruin my business.

Oh, you need to relax.

Our computer techs
are very careful.

They're very,
um... discreet.

[sighs]
NED:
Holy guacamole, look at all

the business he does
through Turkey.

Nothing through Colombia?

Not unless Istanbul
is code for Bogota.

Wait.

Where are you getting this?

I don't see
Korkmaz's computer.

Don't need it.

We're using the SSD drive
Gibbs gave us.

And where did he get that?

We didn't ask, Bishop,
and neither should you.

Okay.
So, what's it telling us?

Telling us that Korkmaz
is shipping and receiving

a whole lot of designer clothes
and accessories.

And he's making a
boatload doing it,

but it all seems
legitimate.

Uh, Dorney, need your help here.

I got folders that won't open.

I got it.

Interesting.

They're both protected
by the same firewalls

Ensign Wilt used
on her laptop.

We'll consider that
her signature.

Any way to see
what's in them?

I've conquered this dungeon
before,

but this time,
I have dragon arrows.

Skyrim.Okay, one folder's

empty, but it held
an e-mail account

that's been deleted.

What's in the other one?

A link to a chat room,

but no access.

All that's left is
a list of screen names.

Let's print 'em.
Print everything.

[sighs] Well, how much
longer must I wait?

Until we know
what's on your computer.

But you're free
to go any time.

No worries. When we find
something, we'll come get you.

We found something.

Ooh.

Hey, have a seat.

Uh...

O-Okay, you must believe me,

I had no idea
they were knockoffs.

My distributor assured me

that these were genuine
designer bags,

and when I figured out
that they were fakes,

the demand was
too great to stop.

I could have lost my house.

This what NSA
was monitoring?

NSA?

Well, they had to be suspecting
a little bit more than this.

That's not at all
what I have here.

What is it?

A deleted e-mail account

and a chat room
that's been blocked.

Y-You found this
on-on my computer?

You hardly seem
like the chat-room type.

I'm not.
I've never seen this.

Any of those screen names
ring a bell?

I mean, of course not. I...

Just it...
it makes no sense. I...

"Scout99"?

That mean something?

Your daughter.

She was born in '99.

That Mockingbirdbook
is her favorite.

And she uses your computer?

No, she's forbidden.
She-she knows better...

Gorton Poly High--
that where she goes to school?

She play basketball?

How do you know this?

Wait...

How...?

Our school tablet is
unbelievably restricted.

No private e-mail,
no social media.

You snuck onto Dad's computer.

Tell them
everything, Layna.

We'll discuss it later.

Secret e-mail account?
Chat rooms?

Just one chat room...
at first.

It was fun talking
with other kids

around the country,
the world even.

At first?

Until things got creepy.

I got talked into joining
this other chat room.

Only nobody there was
talking movies or music.

What were they talking about?

Bunch of haters
complaining about life.

Everybody and everything.

Asking if I was lonely,
and did I know my calling.

What's your calling?

I-I don't know.

They talked
about that a lot.

About who I was
and did my life have meaning?

So I quit.

Both chat rooms.

That's when the weird messages
started coming.

Messages from who?

The crazy people.

Trying to shame me into coming
back, saying I needed them,

and that my life was
nothing without a purpose.

So you turned to Ensign Wilt.

She saw I was upset, and
she promised not to tell my dad.

She knew computers,

and said she could help
without even having to be there.

By accessing
your dad's hard drive.All I had to

was give her a
few passwords,

and she got in there in
the middle of the night.

Deleted the e-mail account,

blocked the chat room
and everyone on it.

Do you know any
of them personally?

Just their screen names.

And only a few of these are
from that other chat room.

Which ones?

Hater-extreme39,

Joker-B...

and this one.

Hellbent427.

He's the one who
got me to join

and got real mad when I quit.

He took it personal.

Said I made him look
bad to the others.

Hey, McGee,
try Hellbent427.

Dorneget, Hellbent427--
find him.

Ooh, very original.

Hell this, Hell that.

Where's Gibbs?He's on his way.

The car give you anything?

Yeah. A lot of lint
and asphalt, but...

Major Mass Spec
made up for it

with tissue samples
from the wound.

Come on, Abbs, keep talking.

ABBY:
Perfect timing, Gibbs.

Okay, so, first of all,
I would bet

that the weapon was
most certainly a bayonet.

It was dull, it was old,
not quite an antique.

What? Not quite?

Well, these mold spores
found inside the wound--

they're dried up,
they're practically mummified.

I'm guessing maybe
50 years old.

That's a pretty
specific guess.

Well, it's based
on a specific fungus.

Aflatoxin B-One is

commonly found
in deep-water rice paddies,

and they're grown
in the Mekong Delta.

It's off
a Vietnamese bayonet.

Yeah, but it could be
one of ours used over there.

I found six
significant collectors

of Vietnam War memorabilia
in the Metro area.

So, all we have
to do is visit them...NED: Excuse me, but

is one of those collectors
named Simek? Bradley Simek?

I have a Peter Simek
in Alexandria.

Hellbent?

According to the chat-room
support site, Hellbent427

is Bradley Simek.

Brad, get off your computer
and come down, please!

You have company!

Don't tell me
he skipped school again.

Uh...No, nothing like that. We just
have a few questions for him.

Is this Brad?

Yeah, that's my little guy.
Not so little anymore.

This is quite
the collection.

Oh, Peter thought so--
my late husband.

I'm not a fan,
but Brad likes it.

Reminds him
of his father.

Um, you know, he must be
on those damn headphones.

Why don't you just
come on up?

Brad?

I've been calling you.

No Brad.

This looks like
your rig at home.

Not really. I certainly don't
have a 3-D printer.

[distant whirring]

That is our garage door.

NCIS, stop!

That's my car!

He doesn't even have
his license!

Oh, my God.

Okay, boys, lay it on me.

If one of these isn't the murder
weapon, there's a third one

missing that probably is.Okay, I'll look at them,

but I was talking about
this baby.

Careful, this baby's heavy.

BOLOs are out on the car
and Bradley Simek.

No sightings yet.

You ping his phone, McGee?Well, I kept trying, boss,

but either his
phone is turned off

or he's figured out a
way to block my signal.

Either way,
he's savvy enough to know

we can use his phone
to find him.

Savvy enough to figure out
Ensign Wilt

blocked his chat room?

Well, if not him, definitely
the people running it.

Dark Web stuff.

Nothing you can Google,
and very advanced.

It's all right here on the
computer-- files, programs,

games, 3-D printer software.

He has a 3-D printer?

Mm. McGee was very jealous.

I'm very jealous.I call dibs, Gibbs.

Whoa, dibs, Abby? I'm Cyber Ops
now, I already have dibs.

Now you both got dibs--
double dibs, both of you, go,

together, now.

Send everything you got on this
kid to Ducky for a profile.

Huh. You hear
Dark Web or Deep Web--

think it'd be scarier.

Jimmy, the Deep Web's
not a bad place.

There's just bad apples,
like everywhere else.

And that's not even
the Deep Web.

That's just my screen saver.

This is Bradley Simek's desktop.

JIMMY:
Aah!

Okay, then.

And these are his chats
and his e-mails

for you and Ducky
to profile.

Oh, thanks for including me
in there, but

Dr. Mallard's really
the profiler, I'm just the...

You are the wind
beneath his wings.

Now go...

blow.

VANCE:
So this kid was friends

with Korkmaz's daughter?

Hardly friends, Director.
They are in the same school

with hundreds of other teens,
but Layna barely knew him.

She had no idea he
was in the chat room.

The kid wanted to pull her
into what he was doing.

BISHOP:
But they never even spoke.

Apparently, he rarely
spoke to anyone.

Shy, loner, brooding.

Practically a stereotype.[phone rings]

Yeah, Duck,

I'll be right down.

Jake, need something?

Gibbs, Director, are we good?

I hope the delay
didn't hurt you any.

Well, we'll find out.

All good, Malloy.

Jake, I...I did my job.

No worries.

Then I should get back to mine.

Ellie.

I wish you'd told me.

We'll talk later.

What do we think, Duck?

We have a textbook
teenage misfit here, Jethro,

using his chat
room to express

unsettling thoughts

that he would never have
the nerve to say in public.

He's hiding
behind a screen name.

Well, with few friends
and no one to turn to, he finds

kinship with others
facing similar demons.

They're-they're linked
by a common cause.

Like a terrorist group.

Well, I wouldn't hesitate
to make that leap.

And SSó_BUILDER-48

is especially hostile.

"The world hates you,
Hellbent427,

even more than you
hate the world."

Steady diet of that's liable
to twist any kid's mind.

There anything in here about
where this kid might have gone?

Not in his chat room.

Mr. Palmer?Uh, not in his e-mails, uh, no.

From what I can tell, when he's
not at school, his whole world

is about his room
and his computer.

And his father.

His father? Father's dead.

He died three years ago,
of a heart attack,

but Brad still e-mails
him every few weeks.

None of them being
returned, obviously.

Having trouble coping
with a significant loss

at a delicate age
makes him an easy mark.

Why the ensign?

Well, they were trying to
recruit young Layna Korkmaz.

Ensign Wilt got in the way.

And what's more to the point,

she could trace them back
to their true identities.

So Hellbent handled it?

To prove himself.

There's a whole lot of hate
being thrown around on here.

Who are these people?I don't know.

I'm hating this
encrypted folder right now.

A dictionary attack
on this password

would take, like, years.

Did you try Hellbent427?

His screen name?

Huh.

[chuckling]:
Well, that was easy.

Some of the best hackers I know
use the most obvious passwords.

[beeping]Oh, Major Mass Spec needs me.

What's the magic machine
chewing on now?

Whoa.

Gunpowder.

In minute traces.

From where?

Brad's computer tower.

I swabbed the power button,
just in case.

What do you make of this?

Looks like a blueprint.

Encoded for a 3-D printer.

McGee said the kid
had one, right?

It's some kind of mechanism.

Wait a minute, is that...

Where's Gibbs?

Got a hit on the BOLO, Gibbs.

Somewhere in McLean.

We're trying
to get an exact location.

Okay, the helo's up;
Virginia State Police are on it.

Gibbs, he's got a bomb.Where, Abbs?

I don't know,
but the kid has gunpowder

on his computer,

and a blueprint
for a plastic detonator.

Gibbs, he printed a detonator.

Okay, we got the car parked
near the corner

of Waverly and Birch Hill,
in McLean.

No sign of Simek.

Wait, I got his phone.

Must have turned
it back on.

Okay, get us a location.

He's on the move.

Everyone, let's go.

LOIS:
Brad?

Bradley, is that you?

Talk to me, baby.

Answer me.

Please come home.

I'm so worried.

Sit-rep?

Bomb squad's on standby,
waiting for a location.

Location keeps changing.

The kid's
cell signal's moving fast.

Too fast to be on foot.

Ditched his car
for someone else's

and heading across town.

BISHOP:
That road's a bus line.

Six eastbound.

I need a bus number.

Tell the driver to
pull over and stay put.

[engine slowing]

Open the side door.

Okay, get off.

Everybody get off.

No! Nobody move!

Don't!

Don't.

Let them go, Brad.

They haven't done anything
to you.

Stay back.

Go on, get out of here.

Go, go, go, go, go.

GIBBS:
Easy.

Easy, easy.

Come on.

You made your point, Brad.

Hellbent.

The coach?

No, no, th-that wasn't,

that wasn't me.

It-it-it was my knife,

but I didn't, I didn't do it.

Well, don't do this.

Your dad wouldn't want you
to do this.

Your mom, either.

She's outside.

Come on.

Come on.

Let's go talk to your mom.

Follow me out.

Follow me.

Come on.

It's okay.

Let's go talk to her.

Follow me.

Come on, Brad.

That's it.

Doing good.

Come on, almost there.

That's good, Brad.

Drop the bag.

Just put it down.

Put it down.

That's it.

Look-- Brad, look at me.

You're a good kid.

No, I'm not.

No!