All language subtitles for NCIS - S14E05 - Philly.en

WOMAN (over phone):
Where are you now?

Where am I?
Where are you, ma'am?

Uh, I'm right here.

I see plenty of Uber cars
on my app,

but none of them are near me.

(woman speaks indistinctly)

Uh, hang on. I might
have gotten turned around.

Oh, wait. There you are.

(beep)

Why are you
in the alley?

It took a while,
but I found you.

What the hell are you doing?

Look, I didn't see anything.

I swear I won't tell anybody.

That's right. You won't.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Look, look,
no, no, no, please.

(engine starts)
Hey, wait! Wait! Wait!

(gunshots)

*

(elevator bell dings)

Hey, McGee. Look who I found
in the elevator.

Well, I've been riding it
all morning.

I'm glad someone
finally noticed.

Francis! How are you?
Good to see you.

It's good to be seen, McGee.
And congrats, huh?

I heard you popped
the big question.

When's the big day.
Well, we don't have
a firm date yet,

but, uh, we plan on saving money

on the invitations
just by telling Bishop,

and everyone'll show.

Okay, I am sorry, Tim.
I'm just excited for you.

And it's nothing
to keep secret.

Heck, when I finally find
the girl of my dreams,

I'll be singing it
from the mountaintops.

That's very sweet.
Adorable.

Special Agent Torres,
this is

Special Agent Francis.
Hey.

Nice to meet you.

And, uh, that is

Special Agent Quinn there.

BISHOP: Yeah,
you might remember her

as a training officer
at FLETC.

Huh. You bet I do.

How you been, Alex?

Good! Yeah.
Special Agent Francis,

what a surprise.

Yeah, well, you look amazing.

Oh.
Long time.

Yeah. It's been, like,
four years, right?

Last time I saw you, you were,
uh, reassigned to Yuma.

FRANCIS (chuckles): Well, you
should recall. You're the one

who had me assigned.
Oh.

(laughs): No.
Yeah, I've been

trying to call you the
last couple of years.

Uh, is there any chance that
maybe you changed your number?

Uh...

uh, yes.

I changed my number.

Security.

Mm. Well, I figured.

But hey, while I'm in town,

maybe we can grab a bite.

Oh, yeah, that-that's great.

Yeah, uh, I... yes.

Um... I'm busy

'cause of the job, but...

if I'm free I'll call you.
Great.

Here is my number.
Mm-hmm.

And I'll look
forward to it.

Okay. Me, too.

Have a good day,
fellow agents.

You bet.

See ya.
Yep.

Mm-hmm.

Hmm?

What?

What do you mean, what? That.

Yeah. Did you two
have a... thing?

No, we did not have
a thing, exactly.

At least I didn't think so.
Well, he thought

you definitely had a thing.
Well, you know,

whatever it was, McGee,
it was brief and it was

ill-advised--
now I can't seem to shake him.

Guy can't take a hint.

Poor guy.
No, you know what?

Bishop, not poor guy.

He's actually a great guy.

You know,
he's ten all around.

If you're interested...

Just have to be ready
to settle down.

Me? No. No, no, no.

I am not looking...
to settle anywhere.

In fact, I'm-I'm
not looking at all.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, right.

Excuse me?

All women are looking.

BISHOP:
Oh, ha!

Is that right?
Yeah, to settle down. Always.

All women?
Yeah, you...

you pretend to play it cool,

like, like you're not looking,
but then when you see something

you like, you go, "Oh, my God,
I'm not really looking! Oh!"

But then you overdo

the ceremony and you
make it, like, a thing

and a meal out of it, and then,
you know, eventually...

Right? Come on.

McGee, back me up here.

I'm sorry,
do I know you?

Uh, wow.

Really? Like that?
That-that's how

you're gonna do me?
Yeah.

That's what we do
to each other now?

Okay, maybe...

maybe not all women.
Mm-hmm.

Uh, w... because what I'm...

see, what I'm trying to say...

What are you
saying, exactly?

Don't say anything, Torres.

You can thank me later.

Okay, that got weird in a hurry.

And it was only getting weirder.

McGee, watch the home fort.
Everybody else, with me. MTAC.

Now.

Clayton, hey.

How are you, Ellie?
I'm good.

Uh, Special Agents
Quinn and Torres,

this is MI6 Intel Officer
Clayton Reeves.

MI6. That's fancy.

How's life across
the pond?

I wouldn't know. I'm calling
from your side of it.

Philadelphia.
GIBBS:
Why are you there, Reeves?

Searching for a mate
of mine, Gibbs.

MI6 Officer Mason Finley.

Came from London last week
chasing intel on a smuggling op

and hasn't
been heard from since.

And why are you
calling us?

Finley's last GPS signal came

from this alleyway, where
it seems that I find myself

in NCIS jurisdiction-- have to
imagine there's some connection.

I haven't touched him.
Mm. I.D.?

You're my first call.

Well, technically,
the Northeast Office

would have jurisdiction.

And I will call them--
but frankly, if there's

any connection to Finley's
disappearance, I prefer to use

your agents, Gibbs.
Have the local office

send the body here-- we'll
send a team up to you.

I'm in. I've never
been to Philly.

Yeah. Me, neither, Gibbs.

I'm always down
for a road trip.

Bishop, yes.

Torres, no.

What? Why not?

We need you here.

Quinn.

You go with Bishop.

Um...

I'm sorry?

What? I stutter?

Uh...

Are you messing
with me?

You know your way around
Philadelphia and they don't.

Experience counts.
Even if my experience

is exactly why
I shouldn't go?

Shouldn't, Quinn?
Or you won't?
Gibbs, you know

I would never defy
a direct order from you.

Okay. Then this
is a direct order.

So... so you are messing
with me, then?

Come again?

Did I stutter?
I don't have time to mess

with anyone
or talk you into this, Quinn.

You want back
in this game,

then you go where I say you go.

It matters that much to you?
Well, yeah,

now that you're forcing me
into this conversation with you,

yeah, it does--
it matters that much to me.

Okay.

Fine, I'll go.

The sailor, Quinn.

You find out what
happened to that kid.

*
(bell tolling)

(passing horns honking)

Oh. MI6 is staying here?

Us, too, I'm afraid.

Ugh.
Just wish it was closer
to the Italian market.

Oh, yeah, the Italian market,
the Roc theme in the car,

and a run up
the museum steps later.

So, this issue you
have with Philly...

I don't have
an issue with Philly.

It's a New York thing,
right? Sports rivalries?

(groans)
Mets-Phillies,
Giants-Eagles...

Let's go with that.

I mean, government agencies
putting their employees here?

Really?
REEVES:
You can blame

budget cuts for that.

Damn Brexit's
got us all in a panic.

Hey!
You got here fast, Ellie!

Yeah, she has a bit
of a lead foot.

Agent Quinn, thanks for coming.
You process the Navy kid yet?

Already shipped him off
to Dr. Ducky for autopsy.

And still no sign
of your friend?
Not yet.

You ladies come and check in.

I'll show you his room.

I already scanned

for prints and evidence--

no sign of foul play.

I texted you both
Finley's info.

Front desk last sighting

was two days ago.

He traveled light.

You know these assignments.
Got to be ready to move fast.

An assignment
for smuggled weapons?
With all

the national uncertainty,
means new opportunities

on the black market.

The black market what?
Well, in this case,

Russian rocket launchers,
smuggled into the U.S.

by way of the U.K.

And who are the smugglers?

That's Finley came
to figure out

(phone rings)
before he disappeared.

Hey, Gibbs.
We just got here.

And your victim just got here.

We I.D.'d him as Petty Officer
Third Class Gary Falco.

21 years old, from
Upper Darby, Pennsylvania.

Currently on leave
from Naval Station Newport

in Rhode Island.

GIBBS: We'll contact his C.O.
from here.

You pay a visit to his family.
In Upper Darby.

McGEE: It's a suburb about
20 miles outside of Philly.

Yeah, I know it.

(quietly):
Of all places.

What's that?

Nothing. Just send the address.

GIBBS:
Check in with us after.

"Of all places"?

What?
Quinn wasn't happy going, Gibbs.

No happier than I am stuck here.

And we're here to
make you happy?

What the hell is wrong
with everyone today?

(laughing)

Are you feeling stuck?

Get unstuck!

You got something to add?

No, that about covers it.

DUCKY:
Ah, the City of Brotherly Love.

Also the city of firsts.

Home to the nation's
first daily newspaper.

Its first hospital.

Oh, yeah,
and its first medical school.

In fact, to this day,
one out of six American doctors

receives some level of training
in Philadelphia.

As I am not one of that six,
dear boy,

I trust you will not hold it
against me.

What do you think, Duck?

It's more what I'm smelling,
Jethro. Beer.

Of the... hoppy
microbrew variety.

Nothing unusual for
a young sailor home on leave.

Gunshots?
I see

two to the chest.

Point-blank range.

(sighs): The wounds
should provide more answers.

(smacks lips)

You okay?
(chuckles)

You still ask me that question
after all these years, Jethro,

but the answer is still no.

Not while I have
a young person on my table.

Never okay.

Got it.

But, Jethro.

Thanks for asking.

(birds chirping)
WOMAN: No way was my Gary
into anything bad.

Not him.
So no enemies,

old grudges...?
Nothing.

Ask his old high school friends.
They were all good kids.

They were with him...
just before.

What time was he with them?

Uh, he left on the 6:15 train
to the city.

Supper,
some bar-hopping.

He wore his Navy blues.

He loved showing them off.

Do you know how
long he stayed?

I called him
just after midnight.

The last train is at 1:00.
But he said

that he had some app on his
phone that could get him a ride.

I don't know.

We'll need his friends' names

and his cell number so we
can trace the account.

(voice breaks):
I should have picked him up.

You know...

your kid joins
the military, and...

you just hold your breath.

Until they come home
for a visit...

and you can finally exhale.

Or at least you think you can.

(sniffles)

These numbers will help us
a lot, Mrs. Falco. Thank you.

If there's anything
else you need,

or anything else
I can do...
Actually, um,

do you know the Shaw family?

They used to live
over on Claremont?

I don't know any Shaws.

But Claremont's just a few
blocks that way-- I can go

get the phone book
and...
No.

No, I'm sorry.

Um, no, if there's
anything you need,

you let us know, okay?
You have our numbers?

I do. And there is.

Go get those animals
who killed my boy.

We will.

(clears throat softly)

(door opens)

So, who's the
Shaw family?

Nobody.

You want to drive
by Claremont anyway?
Nope.

McGee.

Yeah, I have names
and numbers for you.

Uh, Rick Provenzoli.

(whirrs, beeps)

Print.

Print.

(beep)

Come on. Print.

Print. What the hell is
wrong with this thing?

Torres, nothing's
wrong with it.

Paper jams and dried-up ink
cartridges are a way of life.

Well... this
thing hates me.

Nah, it doesn't hate you.

Office equipment is your friend.

It's a bad friend--
the one you lend money to,

and never pays you back.

Ah.

Hey, let me use
your printer, man.

Oh. Uh, no, no.
See, that-that's my printer.

I'm the only one that uses that.

Uh, we talked about this.
It's very sensitive.

All the settings are actually
very specific to my needs.

I am the only one that knows

its little nuances, okay?
So, you're fine with this one,

you're good to go--
just to be kind to it,

and it'll be kind to you.

Kind for what?

GIBBS:
Sitrep.

McGEE:
Oh. Uh,

Falco's C.O.
at Naval Station Newport

says that he was a
model sailor, boss.

No red flags, no enemies.

Anything on the Uber driver?
Yeah.

We were able to track her
down through Falco's cell.

She says that
he sounded lost,

but then he said he spotted
her car, still he didn't show.

What about the high school
friends Falco was meeting?

TORRES:
Quinn and Bishop are
interviewing them now.

We should know soon.

What's your gut
telling you, boss?

What's any of this got to do
with a missing MI6 officer?

And the smuggled
weapons.

Maybe.

Or maybe I know a
businessman in DC

who dabbles in smuggling.
Can you find him?

Squeeze him?
Oh, yeah.

Quite literally, if I have to.

Good. McGee, go with him.

Hold the leash.

But not too tight, McGee.

I don't really bite.

Somehow I doubt that.

Well, Falco's buddies
confirm the timeline.

They ate, drank,
met at 7:00.

Parted ways at 1:30.

Okay.

Mmm.
Is that one
of those cheesesteaks?

Mm-hmm. They're amazing.
I got you one.

(chuckles)

There's two of them
in there.

Oops. One's for later.
QUINN:
Not to mention

the one she ate in the car.

Well...

(ringtone playing)

Wait a minute.

I don't know this number,

but S-O-S-Double-0-9.

That's Finley.

Are you sure?
That's what
he calls me.

I'm Double-0-9, he's
Double-0-nothing.

It's a Bond thing.
That's an S.O.S.

Is there anything else?

3-6 Tompkins.
Could be
an address.

I'll find the address
in the car.

(man coughing)

NCIS!!

Finley!

Oh, Clay!
Out the back!

Out there! I heard them run out
there! You can't let them go...

Stay with him!
I got him,
I got him, I got him.

Okay, I'm gonna undo your hands.

Thank God.
Okay, I got you.

Thank you.

(sirens wailing, chirping)

(distorted, echoing):
Can I get help?!

Hold on, Em. I gotcha.

(sirens fading)
(Quinn pants)

(running steps approaching)

No sign of them.

BISHOP:
Building's empty.

Clay...

(groaning)

(panting)

Quinn, you okay?
Yeah.

I'm fine. I'm good.
Just, uh, take care of him.

I'm fine, okay?

(panting)

Please, Clay, we have
to find these guys.

We have to stop them.
We'll find them, Fin.

Now take a deep breath,

start from the beginning.

(takes deep breath)

I tracked the weapons
to a warehouse

where these bastards were
unloading them into a car.

An SUV, I think it was.

I was surveilling
from across the road

when all of a sudden, from
out of nowhere, this lad...

runs up and jumps in.

Now, I took him for
part of the gang

until they drew
their weapons.

He was a Navy petty officer.
Yes.

And he was dead
before I could do anything.

They would have killed me, too,
if I hadn't identified myself.

They cut my GPS...

right out of my arm,

right there in the alley.

And they dragged me back here
to find out what I knew.

Huh.
Where'd you get
the burner phone?

One of them dropped it.

It took me ages to
grab ahold of it,

and send that text.

Praying that you'd get it.

You have no idea who they are?
They wore masks.

And I track the weapons, miss,
not the men.

But now they
know who I am,

where I live, my wife-- please,
Clay, we have to call her.

we have to warn her.
We'll call her, Fin.

Let's call her now.
Yes.

Sure did a number
on him, huh?

Yeah.

I'll send these shots to Abby
and call Gibbs with an update.

Yeah. Tell him I'm sending
trace evidence, too.

Anything else I
should tell him?

Such as?

You sure you're okay?

I'm fine.

Call him.

*

Hold my gun.

Your gun? Why?

TORRES:
Ivan? I'm looking for Ivan.

(chuckles):
Hey, man.
It's all right.

I know him.
Or are you a ghost?

Been so long, I was
sure you'd be dead by now.

Oh, I've died
a bunch of times. Yeah.

But I keep coming
back for more.

Deal me in?
You come to play cards?

I need information.
Smuggling action in Philly.

Everything you heard
through the grapevine.

(chuckles):
I have no grapevine.

This club is my life now--
and completely legit.

Legit?
Like your armed buddy here?
He's licensed

to carry,
and a sad necessity.

My previous vocation
left me with enemies.

And I don't believe
we've been introduced.

NCIS. Special Agent...
Feds? Are you
kidding me?

That's who you bring in here?

Yeah.
Get the hell
out of my club.

Come back when
you have a warrant.

Deal the cards.

(music continues in distance)

TORRES:
Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Whoa, I got your attention now.
(laughs)

You like this song?
I love this song.

You crazy
son of a bitch.

You know crazy?

Talk to my friend over here.

Someone in Philly

is selling rocket
launchers, Ivan.

Now, given your

previous vocation,
might you know

of any former associates that
could possibly be in the market

for such an item?

Well... since you asked nicely,

a few possible names
come to mind.

That worked out, huh?

McGEE:
One name we got

was Nestor Carbone.

Served time
for racketeering and robbery.

Paroled last year.
Yeah, we also got
two brothers,

Thompson and James Daly.

Career crooks.

Finley, those names
ring a bell?

We can forget the Daly brothers.

They were my first targets,

but all they smuggle now
are exotic birds.

I like birds.

I notified
U.S. Fish and Wildlife.

Uh, what about this other name?
Um... Carbone?

Nestor Carbone.

Son of Tiny Joe Carbone,
the late Mob boss.

Yeah, that would make sense.

They never spoke English
in front of me.

Do we know
where to find him?

Our intel says
he owns a body shop

in the East Falls area.
I'll dig up

an exact address
and send it to you.
Get over there.

Check it out.
REEVES: Will do, Gibbs.

I'm coming with you.

REEVES:
I mean...

only if you think

you're up for it, pal.

Yeah.

Uh, Quinn...

Look, uh, I'm not so sure.

Well, I am sure.
I'm going.

You've been taped up and beaten
for the last how many days?

I say you sleep
on it, Finley.

I say we all

sleep on it.

(door closes)

Gibbs, I got
the results back

on the bullets that
Ducky pulled.
Yeah? What'd they tell you?

Definitely not a mugging.
Nine-millimeter,

hollow point,
close range--

we're dealing
with pros here.

It's even more of a reason
for us to get out there, Gibbs.

It's only a two-hour drive.

Quinn and Bishop
might need our help.
Actually,

it's a two-and-a-half-
hour drive in traffic.

And Bishop and Quinn are
totally capable agents

who aren't always looking
to "settle down," by the way.

Wow.

You know what, Nick,
we gave them good leads.

Let them follow up on them.

Not every step of this
requires a table dance.

Hey, you liked that table dance?

(exhales)

Table dance?
It's a...

figure of speech, boss.
Inside joke, sir.

Find that address on Carbone.
Hey, I could, uh,

deliver that personally.
No.

You're staying, Torres.

Don't ask me again.

Finish your report.

I'll finish
that damn report.

If you let me use your printer.
Stay away from my printer.

Come on, man!

(train whistle blowing,
horns honking)

Finley will be right down.

He's really ready
to jump back in?

I'm not sure there's
any keeping him out.

Have you got the location?
Uh, yeah.

McGee texted it
this morning.

Buy Better Auto
on Clancy in East Bay.

Do you know it, Alex?

Why would I know it?
I thought you knew Philly.

What, does that
make me the mayor?

And by the way,
your buddy

is not ready to jump back in.

He needs to stay here.

Will you give us
a second?

Um, what are
you doing?

I trained you, Bishop.
You don't pull me aside.

That's the most you've
said to me all morning.

Are you okay?
You need to stop

asking me that.
And you need to talk to me.

Look, I-I know you
didn't want to come here.
Okay, it doesn't matter

what I want-- we're here;
let's make the best of it.
I would, but you're not.

This isn't your best.

Just... tell me what's wrong,
and maybe I can help.

You can't help.
Alex...

Maybe last time I was in Philly,
it didn't end so well and,

and maybe it's messing with me a
little bit more than I thought.

You happy?
No, but...

it's a start.
No. It's not a start.

It's an end.
Nothing to help.

Nothing to fix.

I know you're
concerned, Ellie,

but it's fine.
It's complicated.

Most things are.
(groans)

I'm ready.
Let's get this guy.

Right. Yeah.

That's great.
Whatever.
(sighs)

(electric tools whirring)

Excuse me. Special Agents
Bishop and Quinn, NCIS.

Looking for a Mr. Carbone.

Nestor Carbone?

Hey, NCIS! Stop!

(woman screams)

(man yelling)
Hold your fire!

What's wrong with you!
After what that monster
did to me?

We don't know if it's him!
I told you!

You shot me!
You son of a bitch!

You shot me!
Okay, okay, just
call an ambulance.

BISHOP:
I got it, I got it.

What's wrong with that guy?

(groans)

Yes, we need
an ambulance.

Buy Better auto shop.

MAN:
I never saw that guy before.

MI5-6... whatever.

And I sure as hell don't know
anything about any weapons.

REEVES:
Then you ran for no reason.
Hey,

where I come from, when people
knock on your door with badges,

it's never to hand out
prize money.

Or maybe you ran 'cause most
of the cars in your shop have

the VIN numbers scraped off.

These babies stolen, Nestor?

I want to call my lawyer.

FINLEY:
No excuses.
Clay, I...

I snapped. Let my emotions
get the better of me.

In which case, Fin,

I suggest you let us
take it from here.
No.

No, no.
Clay, I'll be fine.
And I'm not suggesting.

Take the break you should
have taken before.

BISHOP:
Here's the call
(phone ringing)

I've been dreading.

Hey, Gibbs.

How'd it go, Bishop?

Could've gone better.

Carbone is not exactly
a good guy,

but he's not our guy, either.

Which... didn't stop Finley
from shooting him.

Wait. Wait, what?

In the leg. It's not serious.

And Reeves relieved him of duty.

Well, where is Quinn?

Where's Quinn?

Yeah. Special Agent Quinn,
your partner, Bishop.

She... l-left.

Uh, she had someplace to be.

Where?

She just needed... some time.

Which is it,

Bishop? She needed some time

or she had someplace to be?

She went back to the hotel.

After everything went down,
she just had to get out of here.

I'm on my way.

Gibbs, you don't have to...

(groans)

...do that.

(sighs heavily)
Okay.

(whirring, beeping)
Come on. Come on, print.
Come on.

Really? Is that
how you want to play it?

Stop it! Are you crazy?

What did Rhonda
ever do to you?

Rhonda?

It's just a machine.

"Just a machine"?
(exhales)

Major Mass Spec. Earmuffs.
Look,

first it won't print,
and now this stupid thing

just has this
ink thing pop out.
Don't call Rhonda stupid!

"Stupid" is an ugly word.

I wouldn't print anything
for you, either, if you
treated me that way.

What happened to the printer
in the squad room?

I don't know.
It kind of just...

broke.

Did you...

kind of break it?

No. (chuckles)

Maybe.

Mister, you have
some serious T.A.I.

Technology Anger Issues.

Look, I-I was gonna use
McGee's printer, but...

No! Oh.

No one uses McGee's printer.
(hissing inhale)

Abby, I'm sorry.

I don't have technology
issues-- I have...

(keyboard clacking)
office issues.

You know, I want to be out there
kicking down doors,

you know, fighting crime.

I don't kick down doors.
Are you saying that

I'm not a crime fighter?
No. That's not...

No. That's not what I'm saying.

What I'm saying is, is that...

your type of crime fighting,

I'm just...
just not cut out for.
Could you just...

hold your thoughts.

I'm getting more
shots from Bishop.

This is that auto body shop.

(tapping keyboard)

What are these?
Um...

that is the warehouse where
Clayton's friend was tied up.

The smugglers had him
in there for days.

If it weren't for that burner
phone, he might be dead by now.

May I ask you a
stupid question?

There's that ugly word again.

Where's the bathroom?

The bathroom?
The bathroom's just...

No, no, no. Where's
the bathroom here,

in this place?

I don't see a bottle
or a jug.

You know, if he was really
there for a few days,

then where did he go when...
you know, he had to, uh...

go?

That... is
a very smart question.

(mellow jazz piano playing)

How many is that?

(sighs): Uh...

(clears throat)
I'm pacing myself.

Bishop called you?
Nope. I called her.

She tried to cover.

Cover for what?

Finley should have
never been there.

And you never should have left,
but I guess you needed time.

I mean, it's East Falls,
and then Austin Powers

starts shooting up the joint.

I mean...

Okay, Gibbs,

you sent me here
to test me.

I'm obviously failing.

Oh, don't try to say
you didn't want this.

Want what?

When my team had an opening,
you sent subpar agents

on the chance that
you'd have to come back.

Are you nuts?
I sent you great agents.

No.

No, you sent good agents.

But deep down...

you wanted to confront this.

I wanted to confront...

back here in East Falls?

Okay. You know what,
I think you're spending

a little too much time
with your shrink friend.

(chuckles):
Okay.

All right. You know...

Okay, I-I didn't say anything.
There's nothing to confront.

(sighs)
I didn't say that.

It's not like avoiding has
been doing me any favors.

Yeah, well,
stop avoiding it, then.

Have another one of those,
if that's what you need.

But let's go hit this head-on.

Maybe you should have one.

I've... really
haven't been pacing myself.

(pats Quinn's back)
Come on.

Where the hell are we going?

Ah, and then there was one.

No Liberty Bell
for you, Timothy?

Actually, Duck,
I'm in, uh, virtual Philly here

trying to dig up a few more
smuggling suspects.
Mm.

Well, look no
farther, McGee.

Or is it "further," Ducky?
In this case,

go with "further."

Well, look no further, McGee.

These photographs
of the warehouse prompted

a very smart question
from Agent Torres.
The genius part

was what Abby did
after I asked it.

What'd you ask her?
Finley was supposedly

tied up for days--

so where's the bathroom?

TORRES: Abby found the
old floor plans online.

There's no working bathroom
or plumbing.
DUCKY: Wait a minute.

Did you just say
"supposedly" tied up?

Here's the genius part.

So, I did a search
of the neighborhood.

There is one public bathroom
within a three-mile radius--

this coffee shop just around
the corner from the warehouse.

Somehow I doubt they
were walking Finley over there

every time he needed to go.
Somehow you'd be right.

The shop's security cameras
caught this

two days ago--
and I do believe

that's Finley on the left.

DUCKY:
Well, who's that with him?

McGEE:
I know those faces.

It's the Daly brothers.

That's them.

Exotic bird smugglers, my ass.

Well, he hardly
looks under duress.

Oh, no, Finley is no captive.

He was in on it the whole time.

Finley!

Where are you?

(grunts)

I don't believe this.
He knew you'd
come looking

for him and faked
the whole thing.

The beatings, the blood,
the S.O.S., all for show.

A smokescreen.

And now he's on the run.

Not if I can help it.

Come on.

So I gave you the Daly brothers.
What more do you want from me?

They're about to unload
those rocket launchers, Ivan,

and we think you
might know where.

How would I?
I've been out of the game

a long time.
Really?

According to ATF,
the Dalys sold you

eight stolen flatbeds
of cigarettes?

Who knew they were stolen?
That's fine months ago, Ivan.

It's not a very
long time at all.
You know

the Dalys.
Time is short.

Where do they do business?

And if I don't tell you?
What? More dancing?

More good cop/bad cop
routine?

Why don't you stick it
where you keep your brain.

(mock gasp)
Whoa.

That was rude.
That wasn't very nice.

Is he implying
I'm the good cop?

Yeah. That's
what he's saying.

He's saying you're
a very nice cop.

And that you look good
in that jacket.

'Cause I see it
in the spark in his eyes.

(yelling)

McGEE:
Are you saying I'm the good cop?

Get him off me!
Yeah, I-I...

I would, but, you know, he's...

he's actually scaring me.

Okay. I know a place!
Just get off me!

(gasps, pants)

Good. Write it down.

Use your good hand.

Damn.

All right.

Next time
I hold your leash.

(scribbling)

You still think
about it a lot?

At night mostly, yeah.

I play it over and over
in my head, see...

what I could have done
differently.

Replay it. Walk me through.
Gibbs,

you were on the review board;
you know what happened.

I reviewed the report--
I never saw this.

(siren wailing in distance)

It was a robbery case,
wasn't it?

Yeah.

Navy Logistics Depot.

NCIS sent me to Philly
to join a task force.

Your partner. Shaw?

Emily Shaw.

Port Authority cop.

Smart.

Funny.

Friend.

Friend.

She, uh, and her husband
used to invite me over.

Lived in Upper Darby,
had a one-year-old.

Made me feel at home.

Till that night.

Yeah. We were, um...

...parked around here.

And we were...

we were waiting on these...
these two suspects.

We were s...

staked out for hours.

Her husband called?

The baby wanted
to say good night.

(phone rings)
Hang on a second.

Never should've answered
the phone.

Hi.

She got out.

(gunshot)

Kept shooting.
They just kept shooting,

and I tried to...
tried to get to her,

and I... I couldn't get to her.

And I kept saying,
"I'm coming, I'm coming," and...

and I-I couldn't reach her.

And she... she bled out.

She bled out on the floor.
Coroner said

she was dead
in 20 seconds.

That's too many seconds,
Gibbs, it was

too many seconds. She died.
That when you quit

active duty and became
a training officer?

Yes. I thought...

it would get better with time.

It hasn't.

You're still
blaming yourself.

Well, if I hadn't let
her out of the car,

she may be still alive.

Or you're both dead.
Inside the car,

outside the car, Quinn,
you were in an ambush.

37 bullet holes in the car,

and you still killed
one of the shooters.

Yeah. So?

What are you leaving out?

If that's the whole story,
you'd be past it by now.

You know what
always got me?

How it derailed
someone as tough as you

for as long as it did.
Really?!

As t... as tough as me?
Really, Gibbs?

You don't know anything
until you walk in my shoes.

What wasn't in the report?

Alex, j-just say it.
Just... just say it.

I was distracted, too. Okay?

I was distracted.

(distorted):
What would you like me to do?

I was engaged.

I'll take mine outside.

And Mike and I were fighting,

and he called.

And I answered the phone,

and she got out of that car

to give me privacy.

And I let her.

QUINN:
Shaw!

SHAW:
Alex! I'm hit! Alex! Alex!

Help me! Alex!
Please! Don't let me die!

Don't let me die.

(sobbing)

(siren wailing)
Em! No! No, no, no, no...

(distorted, echoing):
Can I get help?!

(siren approaching)

(siren wailing in distance))

And if I did not,
she would be alive today.

You're why others are alive.

No phone call
killed your friend.

And you didn't, either.

Shooters, Quinn.

Shooters killed her.
Yeah.

(phone ringing)

You gonna get that?

Yeah, McGee?

Boss, Finley's in bed
with the Dalys.

We got a lead on two locations.

Bishop and Reeves are
on their way to one now.

Yeah. Just send me
the other one.

(distant horns beeping, honking)

(train passing)

(dogs barking in distance)

(car alarm chirps)

Where you gonna hide now,
Finley?

Clay.

(exhales)
Mate, I'm sorry.

It was all a lie.

I trusted you.

Clay, you know where I'm at.

I needed the money.

When they offered
to cut me in,

I couldn't say no.
You couldn't?

It's blood money.
I didn't kill

the Navy kid--
if he hadn't come along,

then no one
would've been any the wiser.

Yeah, but when Clayton
did get wise, you faked

your own kidnapping
just to throw us off course.

Look, I think
it would be for the best

if the two of you just left.

The Dalys will be here
any minute.
You're worried

about us now?

Come on, Clay,
you and me are mates.

(panting)

You're not my mate.

She is.

Yeah, and I wouldn't worry
about the Dalys.

What the hell?

Where'd it go?

NCIS!

Is it loaded, Gibbs?

Uh-huh.

Nick!

You shouldn't have.

I should have.
Well, at least until...

Rhonda gets fixed.

Will you forgive me?

There is nothing to forgive.
I mean, especially

after you came out
with a very smart question

that saved the day, and without
kicking down a single door.

Thank you.
Thank you very much.

But I'm still not
sure that I'm...

cut out for this, uh...

office life.

You know I'm here for you,
right?

Sure.
No, I mean it.

And change is hard,

but coming
from where you've been

must be even harder.

Well, nothing I can't handle.
Well, if you

have days where
you can't handle it,

you can always come talk to me.

Okay.

Thanks.
No.

Thank you-- for my new printer.

(grunts happily)

It's the same kind McGee has.

(laughs):
It is? Oh, wow.

I didn't realize that.

(laughs)

(clicks tongue, taps keyboard)

(beeping)

Well... they
weren't kidding--

you really have
a boat down here.

It's not finished.
Work in progress.

Yeah. Aren't we all.

How'd it go with Shaw's husband?

You know, even better
than I hoped.

We had a long talk, and...

The kid is 13 years old now.

Couldn't believe it.

Time goes fast.

Thank you, Gibbs.

Thank you for sending
me to Philly.

You know, if you hadn't,
I'd still be running in place,

or treading water, or
I don't know, pick a metaphor.

Stuck.

Stuck. That's it.

It's a work in progress,
you know?

I have a lot of damage

to undo.

Like your engagement.

Whatever happened
to that guy?

Man, you don't miss
a detail.

It's our job.

Well, what I told you yesterday

not only ended
my career as a field agent...

Temporarily.

It ended that relationship.

And a few others.

Safe to say,

uh, may have a commitment
problem now. (laughs)

Something else to work on.

Yeah.

Also like how the hell

you're gonna get this boat
out of here.

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