NCIS (2003–…): Season 11, Episode 20 - Page Not Found - full transcript

Chrissie in Linguistics
finally got engaged.

Hooper won that bet.
Matt upstairs won the Oscar pool.

And I guessed Hypochondriac Carl's
self-diagnosis-of-the-month.

Turns out, he actually had cancer.

Treatable skin cancer, but who knew?

That's about all you missed
while you were out.

I'll go over vending machine
changes tomorrow.

Are you running RSA keys?

The encryption's not the problem.

These e-mails are useless,
not to mention a week old.

Was it always this dark in here?
Can we turn on the overheads?

Fluorescent lights make me violent.

Plus, that Conrad Award on your desk
is a murder weapon waiting to happen.

Tell me about it.

You're just tired. I've got those
caffeine eye drops if you need...

Stop.

Get the boss.

Now.

Two weeks ago, a Naval Intelligence
Officer was killed in Budapest, Hungary.

A bomb in his hotel room.

Local fuzz and NCIS field office found
squat and the case went cold.

- Until now, because...
- We just flagged an e-mail.

Sender is anonymous,
but the recipient is

an overseas alias
we've been tracking.

It mentions a rental
address in Virginia

"where you can lay low
and won't be disturbed".

This proves there's an operative
in the States.

I mean, this could bust
the whole case wide open.

I will get with the FBI and NCIS...

You won't.

Because you two never saw this.

- What? Why?
- That's an order.

Understood?

NCIS Season 11 Episode 20
Page Not Found

Synchro: Gaillots & Kujathemas.

Rereading: Bruno.

This is big.

I think I'm gonna need a minute.

What is it? Come on.

It's not like I'm asking you
to move in here.

And don't say it's because
my place is not handicap accessible.

You got those three steps out front.

Yes, and the landlord agreed to bring it
up to code and install a ramp.

Look at you.

I got nothing then.

Congratulations.
Very exciting. Good luck.

- Really? That's it?
- Delilah.

- She's a special lady.
- Yeah, I know.

I guess moving in together
is the next logical step.

And I really want her to.

So of course she'll say yes.

Exactly.

- Then why am I so nervous?
- Hold on.

Hey, Tony. It's Delilah.
Don't say my name.

Is Tim there?

Don't let him know it's me.
I need to talk to you privately.

I thought you were someone else.

You're the lady
from the magazine subscription...

Web site?
Thought I did this online.

Let's just go back and...
review them again.

Start with, um... Go slow.

Start with golf...

Just one second.

- Who put you in here?
- Are you alone, Tony?

In my own way.

I didn't want to get Tim in trouble.

If I'm indicted for treason,

it's harder to draw a straight line
between you and me.

- What?
- I wouldn't worry.

The murder
of Navy Lieutenant Kit Jones...

you know the progress
of that investigation?

It was, like, two weeks ago.

In Budapest.

The last I heard, they'd hit a dead end.
But that's the European Field Office.

Nothing on the down low?
Maybe a...

classified investigation
someone's trying to keep quiet?

I thought you were the one
with the D.O.D.

I already hacked
into every federal database

and found nothing.
This is so weird.

- And criminal.
- And it's about to get worse.

I need to talk to Agent Gibbs.

Tony, what are you doing
in the closet?

Finding myself.

It's for you.

Excuse me.

You know you could get fired
for this.

And why did you call
Tony instead of me?

This is important, Agent Gibbs.

Jones was murdered while trying
to take down an underground Web site

that sells everything
from drugs to... hit men.

- He got too close.
- Yes.

And now we have intel
on those responsible.

In Virginia.

Intel that you were ordered
to ignore.

Clearly my boss
was given orders, too.

But why?
And by whom?

There is no reason.

- As far as you know.
- That's true.

But nobody is giving me
straight answers.

And when it comes to finding murderers,
that's wrong.

If you don't look into it...
our only lead goes cold.

Look, you've only been
back to work a week.

Maybe you should slow down.

Slow down?

Delilah, what he's saying...

is let us check it first.

Right, Tim?

Boss, we're not... I mean,

we don't even have a warrant
to search the place.

I already called the landlord.

He is more than willing to let
animal control check for rats.

My lawyer called this place
an investment.

It's not exactly in demand,
but it's not because of vermin.

I keep up on my inspections.

Yeah, we're more concerned
with your last tenant,

Mr. Troutman.

Yeah, I gave your secretary
the name when she called.

We ran it.
Turns out, it was fake.

Yeah, sorry.
Like I said, I can't be too picky.

He was the first renter
I had all year.

He paid six months in cash,
but I never met the guy.

You said he moved out.

He was here a week, and then I found
his keys in the mailbox this morning.

Thought he was gonna come back
looking for a refund, but...

This is about animal control?

We're tracking a man who's selling
illegal Mexican chinchillas.

They breed with common house rats,
and the offspring

are especially dangerous, violent.

Did he leave anything behind?

In fact, he was the first tenant
that actually cleaned.

Left the whole place
smelling like bleach.

Bleach.

- Does that mean something?
- It dissolves Chinchilla fur.

You guys... you're not gonna tear up
the floor or anything, right?

You hope not, but, you know, sometime...
I mean, probably not.

'Cause, I mean, you know,
it's not the Taj Mahal,

but no reason to make it worse.

Well, you can check it out after,
if you want.

No, I'll take your word for it,
I guess.

I got a bum knee,

you know, and, surgery tomorrow,

but stairs have been murder.

I don't know about chinchillas,

but there's no blood spatter
anywhere.

Yeah, the only thing left behind
was a partial print

on the base of the toilet
and this used tissue.

You sound
a little disappointed, Tim.

I didn't think you wanted to find
anything on Delilah's little witch hunt.

Yeah, don't start.

Things were just
getting back to normal.

I can't believe she convinced
Gibbs to go along with this.

Not an easy task.

So if there's no blood,
why all the bleach?

Considerate renter
does seems far-fetched.

Professional wipe-down?

Could mean your partial
print's valuable.

I already sent photos
for Abby to run.

Maybe it's Delilah again.

Hello, Abby.

Really?
That's interesting.

- Okay, thanks.
- Prints?

That was fast.

I'm just not sure
if it's good news or bad news.

Who's our mystery renter?

Our victim... Lieutenant Kit Jones.

He died in Budapest two weeks ago.

According to his file from O.N.I.,

Lieutenant Kit Jones was a loyal
and hardworking cyber specialist.

Part of an interagency task force

trying to shut down servers for a Web
site called The Phoenician Exchange,

or PX, for short.

Then a bomb decimated
his hotel room in Budapest.

Jones was the only casualty.

- Body?
- Destroyed.

But phone logs show
Jones made a phone call

from his room seconds
before the bomb went off.

National police had jurisdiction.

By the time the agents from our field
office in Europe got there,

evidence had gone "missing".

Payoffs.

- All for a Web site?
- Not just any Web site.

A big one.
You've heard of Silk Road?

Right.

for drug traffickers.
The PX is an offshoot.

You've heard of Amazon?

Yeah, the big one.

The PX is a middleman

between sellers and buyers.

Drugs, guns, fake I.D.s...

everything in one secure location.
You just point and click.

Black market. No names,
no traffic monitoring.

Law enforcement can find the site,
just not the servers.

Accounts for 20% of all the illegal
drugs sold in the U.S., Gibbs.

That's big.

The only way we fight is through
the work of specialists like Jones

and Delilah, actually.

I'm just a cryptologist
in a dark office.

Jones was on the front lines.

He personally tracked
the site's former webmaster.

Heidi Partridge is awaiting trial

at Dandridge Correctional Facility.

- Leaves a hole in the operation.
- She made millions.

They'll have no trouble
filling the position.

Unless Jones already has.

You think Jones faked his own death
to go work for the bad guys?

Explains a lot.

Except for Melody Hanson.

His grieving fianc?e.

We were supposed
to get married last Saturday.

We wanted a big wedding
with lots of family and friends,

so we waited
until we could afford it.

Almost two years.

If only we had known.

There's no way you could've.

After the...

After what happened to Kit,

I was able to cancel
the flowers and the chapel,

but we were gonna have a reception

at the restaurant where he proposed.

You ever heard of Leo's?

- No.
- You want to try it?

I had to pay for the catering.

And the cake.

I have so much food.

Please, would you take some?

Because I have to get it
out of my house.

The lieutenant was a good man.

Smart guy.

Top of his class at Stanford.

He always committed 100%
to everything he did.

He like his job?

I mean, yes, of course he did.

He died doing it.

He died serving his country.

Last time you spoke,

he talk about anything
out of the ordinary?

Wedding veils.

He wanted me to wear one.

I think they're outdated.

Look, it's, um...

it's like I told the agents overseas,
Kit was excited.

He called me every day
while he was gone.

- Except one.
- When was that?

The day before the explosion.

I didn't give it much
thought at the time, but now...

I don't know what to think.

Visiting hours for Pod Four
will be over in 20 minutes.

More visitors.

Can't even enjoy
what little free time I have.

Who are you with, gentlemen?

Miss Partridge,
we'd like to ask you a few questions

about the Phoenician
Exchange Web site.

As you know, I'm still awaiting trial
and won't incriminate myself.

But I've developed a little system

to make all of these interviews easier,
for everyone.

You'll start with...
a happy face.

If your questions stay on task,

you keep it and we keep talking.

I was a kindergarten teacher.

Before you started running
the world's most wanted Web site?

- What's that?
- An "uh-oh" face.

But you can still earn
back your happy face.

Unless we get a sad face first?

I see you were the "A" student.

More like teacher's pet.

You're facing charges
for narcotics trafficking,

money laundering
and computer hacking.

Like I've stated publicly,

I was hired to keep a Web
site functioning and secure.

On a purely code level.

I had no actual knowledge
of what was being sold.

So you're saying you became

The Wolf of Sesame Street
by accident?

Programming was a hobby.

I found myself on certain
message boards and...

stumbled into things.

That's the beauty of the Internet.

Anyone can be anything.

Do anything.

Until Lieutenant Jones came along.

Gold star for him.

Who took over
after you were arrested?

We're willing to talk plea deal
if you can give us a name.

We're thinking
Lieutenant Jones himself.

This interview's over.

What?! I didn't even say anything!

Your questions are violating a deal
I already have in place.

No, we read
your current plea agreement.

- That's not true.
- My new deal. As of this morning.

He only beat you here by minutes.

- Who's "he?"
- Sorry. Class rules.

Guard!

Well, the prison log doesn't show
any visitors this morning.

Meaning it's been tampered with.

First the D.O.D.,
now the prison system.

- Ever see Tango & Cash?
- It involve a conspiracy?

Yes, it did.
And this is FUBAR.

Hey, Boss, we got a problem.
Turns out...

That's weird, the signal cut out.
I had four bars,

now the light's flashing.

Oh, mine, too.

Prison cell phone jammer?

Not likely.
We're too far away.

More conspiracy?

- How close would someone have to be?
- Pretty close.

Gray sedan. Your ten o'clock.
Engine's running.

Interesting.

Federal agents. Freeze.

Turn off the vehicle. Slowly.

Relax. I can explain.

Why you're interfering
with a federal investigation?

That's funny.

It's just my badge.

Case Officer Jim Brisco.

You're the ones interfering
with an ongoing CIA operation.

So how exactly did NCIS
get onto all this?

- Anonymous tip.
- I hope so.

'Cause our memo to the intelligence
community was clear.

Not to mention compartmented.

Jones is still alive?

Made contact yesterday.

CIA was part of his joint task force

until we pulled him
on to a side project.

Undercover.

On U.S. soil?

Operation brought us
stateside a week ago.

We were waiting to inform
the feds till we had something.

The hotel explosion was you.

Deep cover measures.

Need to know.

Jones' work on the PX servers
overlapped

with a CIA
money laundering operation.

You ever heard of bitcoins?

Never mind, it's confusing.

Jones has and he agreed to help.

I understand... The CIA has left

a bad taste in your mouth.

Trent Kort-flavored, right?

How do you know Trent Kort?

Don't. But it's always him.

Guy like that only
makes my job harder.

Everybody's.

I'm nothing like him.
I got hair.

I'll even ask nicely.

Please back off.

For the sake of the op
and Jones' life.

- He missed his own wedding.
- Yes.

He knew the op could go long.

But he also knew
we had a rare chance

to take out the entire PX.

He left his fianc?e
thinking he was dead.

For her own good.

Well, you tell her that.

She's here.

You brought her in?

You can't say anything.

It could make her a target.

Look, when this is all over,
she'll understand.

I don't understand.

Why am I here again?
I've told you everything.

We're just trying to...

Find the murderer, I know.

But it's been nothing
for two weeks, and now all this.

You know something.

Can you tell me what's going on?

Lead didn't pan out.

Bad info.

So my being here
was just a waste of time.

We apologize.

On behalf of NCIS and the CIA.

This agent will escort you out.

Confirmation, Leon.

That she doesn't know anything.

Two weeks is a long time.

To let a loved one
think you're dead? Yeah.

Keep digging.

Quietly.

Our best shot at finding out what's
going on is to get to that Web site.

How?

We could pose as a vendor
in hopes of communicating

with the site's administrator
and track them.

Might only take about a week or so.

Or we find someone
who already is a vendor.

- It's faster.
- Yeah, that one.

Great.
I'll just go ask McGee.

This is a bad idea.

You and your little informant
don't see eye to nerdy eye?

Are we cutting
into his video game time?

Sampson is not little.
And he's not my informant.

I only know about him
through Delilah.

Sampson and Delilah?

Yeah. She gave him that nickname
when they were together.

I understand
why you wouldn't want to use him.

It's not just that,
he's a drug dealer

- who can't be trusted.
- Delilah dated a drug dealer?

Not illegal ones,
just ones that are hard to find.

Well, I'm sure you have much more
to offer Delilah than...

Not to mention you got
the apartment key, McGee.

There he is.

What, you mean the...
Magilla Gorilla there?

He uses the PX Web site
to buy and sell steroids.

We're gonna have to catch that guy?

Should've brought
the elephant tranquilizer.

Oh, come on.

A tendency to go rogue.

His own code of justice
often different from the law.

Insubordination.

You talking about Brisco or Kort?

Actually, I was talking
about your Agent Gibbs.

Confusion's interesting though.

Bottom line: we trust
our own people, Leon.

We give them certain freedoms.

Brisco should have
brought us in, Kirkwood,

should have followed protocol.
You know how this looks.

Like CIA plays to win.

A spitting contest's
still a contest.

Let us talk to Jones.

Clearly Brisco was
too polite with you.

It's a flaw of his.

Jones is a cyber specialist.

Knows how to hide online.

And you moved him
back here easy enough.

So why the hotel bomb
and the misinformation campaign?

Did his cover really
have to go that deep?

You'd put a man's life at risk
to satisfy your own curiosity?

My own professional concern.

Noted, but the lieutenant's
in good hands,

and if we did need help,
it's FBI jurisdiction.

Protocol, right?

Great workout, guys.

You ran for six and a half blocks.

You better be very helpful.

Hey, I'm up for whatever you need.

I only ran
to keep up with appearances.

The fake punches were
a great touch, though.

Those were real punches.

That's funny. I like you.

Sampson, we need your login info

to access the Phoenician
Exchange Web site.

Already have a Tor
browser installed.

Said I'm up for anything,
but that...

that's bad for business.
It could trace back to me.

- It won't.
- Sorry.

- Ask me anything else.
- Anything?

Just... Sampson...
and we'll get back

to your nickname in a second...
when exactly did you date Delilah?

Just before Tim. Why?

So she went from your shoe size
to his.

Hey, how's Delilah doing, Tim?

I heard about the accident.
I'd love to catch up with her.

She's well, but I don't think
she's really up for...

She's in the building.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- Do you think I could...
- No.

Depends.

I'm not risking it...

for anything less
than a coffee date with her.

- What?!
- Done!

A supervised coffee date.

How did you get Sampson
to give up his vendor access?

I guess I intimidated him.

Where's Abby?

She just ran to Autopsy.
You get me for now.

Now, shouldn't you be
at your own office?

I mean, this case isn't
supposed to exist.

I am out sick today.

Are you trying to get fired?

No. I'm trying to find out
what happened to a man

who we thought died in an explosion.

Kind of hits home for me.

And now, I am also
trying to take out

a major source of illegal drugs...

drugs that can fund terrorism.

Which also hits home.

What is the problem, Tim?

That you getting in trouble
hits home for me.

That's all.

So, you into the PX's Tor protocols?

Funny that a program
developed by the

Naval Research Lab now makes
hidden Web sites possible.

I wrote a layman's
summary for Gibbs.

"There are 500 times
as many hidden sites

"as there are public ones.

They are called the Deep Web,
or Dark Web."

You know Gibbs, he probably
wouldn't have read it anyway.

- Find anything?
- You bet your ass I did.

Classified D.O.D.
security protocols.

Built into the site itself.

We developed these codes
to find hidden Web sites.

But the site is now using them
to protect itself.

- Using our own weapons against us.
- Exactly.

But how did they get our intel
in the first place?

Lieutenant Jones
would have access to it.

Meaning he could be a double agent.

Gibbs, you didn't pick up.

- It went to voice mail.
- I'm already here.

- What do we got?
- Thanks to Ducky and Jimmy,

we're getting answers.

I analyzed the only evidence
that Tony and McGee

- found at the apartment.
- Dried-up tissue.

Yes. I processed said mucus

and found viable traces
of blood inside.

It's a confirmed DNA match
to Kit Jones.

So, what's the problem?

What we found in his blood.

A low red blood-cell count,
also known as anemia.

Plus, there was
a viral infection of the thymus.

Both are signs of malnutrition.

Add that to the percentage
of oxycodone in his blood...

A sedative,
which in high enough doses,

could render Jones
completely unconscious.

Lieutenant is not a double agent.

No.

He's a prisoner.

I'm still waiting, Jim.

For that explanation

as to why NCIS knows more
about our undercover asset than we do.

- A ball has been dropped.
- It's a man's life.

I've got paperwork in front of me

says you made contact with Jones
two days ago.

That a lie?

My people are saying Jones has been
captive for at least a week.

My communications
have all been via e-mail.

It's possible they were
written under pretense.

But, sir, if he's being
tortured for intel,

he never used any
of our predetermined duress words.

You blaming him now, Brisco?

No, damn it.
I am just as upset as you.

He was my responsibility,
so let's...

set this right.

You've screwed enough pooches to make
a breeder blush, not to mention me.

We're out.

I'd rather you keep this internal,
Director.

As a favor?

So that call to the FBI?

Yours to make if you want, Leon.
You're on the clock now.

Have been.

Whoever's behind
that Web site has Jones.

Find them, we find him, Leon.

Lieutenant Jones was smart.
Like, really smart.

The security protocol
that he gave his captors

was developed by the D.O.D.

And I know how to decrypt them.

Turns out, he sent us breadcrumbs.
Just sent you a packet, Tim.

Breadcrumbs that are
actually backdoor hacks

that allow us to see
who's been accessing the site.

Coming your way, Abs.

Okay, there's still no user names
or server access to take down the site.

But, thanks to Jones,
we're able to see local ISP access.

And somewhere the head
of Leroy Jethro Gibbs explodes.

We got a hit!

It's from the private ISP
of Bluemont Medical Center.

Someone at the hospital
is updating the Web site.

Okay, I'm cross-referencing

patient and staff names
with our case files.

Who's Ronald Troutman?

Landlord. He said he was having
knee surgery today.

He's our dark webmaster.

- Let's grab him.
- It's no guarantee he'll talk.

Leaving Jones to die.

But if he accessed the PX

from the hospital,
that means that his computer's there.

If we could get to it,

we'd have our proof.

An undercover operation of our own?

It's dangerous, but not a bad idea.

McGee, give me a sit rep.

Troutman's post-op.

Looks pretty out of it to me.

Got eyes on the laptop.

Now we just need
to get rid of his daughter.

Okay, send in the junior varsity.

I'm Dr. Mallard,

and this is, Nurse Jimmy.

- Is everything okay?
- Of course, my dear.

Shift change, that's all.
Routine checkup.

Yes, good. Which means,
this would be a perfect time

for you to go get yourself
a cup of coffee.

I'm-I'm good.

Well, with the amount of medication
they've put into him,

your father will be
unconscious for some time.

Yup. I.V. fentanyl infusion.

Pre-med.

Ah. I see.

Well, I will just,
check on his dressings here,

and, change his I.V. fluids.

- Care to assist, Doctor?
- No, thank you,

but perhaps
our medical student would.

She can help you cleanse
the peripatellar incision.

All we need is some gloves.

You can tell your father
that you were inside of him.

That's unique, right?

Maybe I could use a cappuccino.

Why don't I join you? Yeah.

So, you're pre-med.

I wonder if it's in any
of the hospitals where I teach.

- I thought you were gonna hack in.
- No time.

Got to swap out
the hard drive itself.

I should be able to decrypt it
and find Jones before...

Jimmy, he's awake.

What are you doing?

Yeah, don't worry.
He's as high as a kite.

Wait.

I know you.

Or not.

Are there violent
chinchilla babies here, too?

They were here.

No.

But we got rid of them.

Oh, God bless you.

God bless you, sir.

See? I knew it'd be fine.

Oh, glad you're still here.

Hey, Wheels.

Whose phone records are these?

Melody Hanson, the fianc?e.

On the off chance
she's not telling us something?

Or if she becomes a target.

I hear you're looking
to become Jane Bond.

- I can.
- I don't doubt that.

In fact, I'm sure...
nobody does it better.

So, listen...

I know you and Tim are close.

- We have showered together.
- Really?

I opened an envelope in this room...

I need your advice.

I think he's an all-in-one,
body wash-shampoo combo kind of guy.

Not advice on showering with him.

I need to tell Tim something.

So, with this case,
he thinks I'm trying

to lose my job, but I'm-I'm not.

It's the opposite.

I'm trying to show
that I can do more.

To move up.

I can understand that.

Because there's this...

senior analyst opening in Dubai.

Dubai... is not... here.

I know.

Which leads me to another thing
that I need to tell Tim.

Are you saying that you're...?

- You gonna check that?
- What?

Kit Jones' fianc?e just received

six one-second phone
calls from a Leo S.

Who's that?

Leo's Restaurant.

It's where Jones proposed.

As long as the encryption
isn't too advanced,

we should be in Troutman's
hard drive within the hour.

He could be awake by then, Abby.

So, Tony said you wanted to talk
with me about something?

Yeah, but, I can wait.

Okay. I can, too.

- You had more to talk about?
- Yeah, but I can wait.

I can't.
Guys, we have a big problem.

What? Is the security
more advanced than we thought?

It's less. Way less.

- I don't see anything.
- Exactly.

This hard drive isn't encrypted.
It is blank.

Did we trigger a safeguard?

It's not a booby trap.

Troutman knew we were coming.

Someone tipped him off.

Stop!

Don't move.

Who are you?

What agency?

Who's asking?

Don't come any closer.
And don't try anything funny.

I have to be funny.

It's my raison d'etre.
Give me the gun.

It's not loaded.

Walk.

Lieutenant Jones.

I knew making those phone calls
was a mistake.

You trying to draw Melody here?

To explain.

Couldn't stand another day
of her not knowing.

- We want to help.
- Right.

- That's what the last guy said.
- Who's the last guy?

CIA Officer Brisco.

He was the one holding me prisoner.

It was a trap.

And I fell for it.

There was never
any undercover operation.

CIA has the paperwork.

Paperwork, sure, but...

it was all Brisco's ruse
to make me think

I was taking down the world's
largest online drug market.

And so you think instead he was
selling intel to the Web site?

I know he was.

He tortured me for security codes.

All while using the CIA to finance
the hotel explosion and cover-up.

So everyone already thought
I was dead.

Not everyone.

Thank God you started digging.

I was afraid that no one
would ever believe me.

You do believe me?

We processed the apartment

where you were... held,

and there's no sign of torture.

Because Brisco kept me
drugged up and in a bathtub.

It made my...

"business" easy to clean up.

And you escaped the night before.

If I had known you were coming,
I would've stayed and baked cookies.

I have to ask.

Brisco kept me so high

that I barely remember crawling out
of that place on my hands and knees.

I found a gun
that he left behind, and...

I hid in a storm drain across the street
till the drugs got out of my system.

Agent DiNozzo, if I was in on this,

why would I risk coming back
for Melody?

You buy this?

But it doesn't help us catch
the son of a bitch who did it.

CIA's disavowed Brisco.

Guy's in the wind.

And with Troutman's laptop
being erased,

- we're back at square one.
- We still got Troutman.

But we got nothing
to incriminate him.

We got nothing to make him talk.

But if that doesn't work,
we lose Brisco for good

and any leverage we had
to take out that Web site.

It'll work, Leon.

I hope you're right.

Nurse?

Nurse, can I get another Jell-O cup?
Orange this time.

That was fast.

PX.

CIA. Talk.

CIA? Badge says "NCIS".

You know, that's gonna hurt a lot
more once the painkillers wear off.

Sorry, what's-what's...
what's going on?

We know about your connection to the
Phoenician Exchange and Officer Brisco.

- Where is he?
- Okay, I must...

still be a little out of it, 'cause I
don't understand a thing you're saying.

You understand life in prison?

I think
they're on their lunch break.

We need your server locations
and admin passwords.

I'll give you anything you want.
Just stop, stop, stop!

Locations and passwords.

All right.
All right.

Just-just...
tell me what those are

- and I'll get them.
- He's playing games.

Just tell me how to...
how to give them to you.

Do I have to... do I have
to sign into my AOL or...

Even you know what that is.

give me your phone.

Call a lawyer.
You're gonna want one.

I can use my phone.

No. Use this one.

Where do I dial?

He's not our computer mastermind.

But his laptop was wiped.

Someone was hiding their link
to the PX.

I don't have a laptop.

This... belongs to...

I take it back.
That's-that's mine.

That's my laptop.

You supposed to be meeting someone?

Yeah. Didn't know it
was gonna be a coed.

Turns out, med school's expensive.

Not what I thought
I was getting into

when I started buying
security intel from you.

Internet's a scary place.

Then I get a tip from you

that NCIS is onto me?

I wouldn't have sent you
to my father's apartment building.

You never said anything
about being CIA.

That's the beauty of anonymity.

My money?

And if you're thinking
about negotiating me down, remember...

tip-offs can go both ways.

I'll give you even more

if you help me
get out of the country.

- Please?
- I'm sure you'll figure something out.

Then we're done here.

So if you'll excuse me.

Kid.

Good luck.

My money?
And if you're thinking about

negotiating me down, remember...
tip-offs can go both ways.

That good enough?

We got it.

And my plea deal?

It's intact.

As long as you give us the Web site.

Turn around.

Better pour two.

I'm surprised you found me.

You were smart not
to go to the Feds.

You don't have
to tell them anything.

I was supposed to have
my wedding reception here.

I trusted you!

It's over, Brisco.

You were right.
You're nothing like Trent Kort.

You're worse.

He never denied being a worm.

You okay?

Yeah. What time is it?

Almost 5:00. Why?

I need one more favor, Agent McGee.

- You ready for this?
- I've been ready.

Oh, and I brought cake.

Hope we made it in time.

I called the judge
and told him the circumstances.

He was willing to wait.

So, we... both wanted
to talk to each other.

You go first.

I think that you should go
for that job in Dubai.

Tony told me about it.

And if it's what you want,
then I want it for you.

It is.

Ever since my accident,
I've felt like...

a seesaw, back and forth.

Normal and not.

It wasn't until I went back to work,
I realized that...

normal has changed because I have.

I get that.

Working on a computer screen
in a dark room...

that just isn't me anymore.

So I do want to take the new job.

But that means one big change.

A long-distance relationship?

What?

I'll only go if we can
still make this work.

I know I've changed,

but you haven't, and you're
still the guy I want to be with.

Did I scare you with that last part?

No, I'm kidding.

I wanted to give these to you
'cause I feel the same way.

Just, now it'll be
for when you get back.

Deal?

Deal.

We forgot witnesses.

Any chance you two can help us out?

Absolutely.