NCIS (2003–…): Season 11, Episode 21 - Alleged - full transcript

I don't miss city life one bit.

I mean, yeah, the new job
starts a little too early,

but, uh, the trade-off?

There's no cabs,
no subways, no stress,

quiet streets
and actual wildlife.

Nice!

Hang on, I'm gonna
text you a picture.

Oh! Oh, no!

♪ NCIS 11x21 ♪
Alleged
Original Air Date on April 15, 2014

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

♪

Good morning, Bishop!

Oh! Morning, McGee, Tony.

What's up, Bish?

What do you got there?

Oh!

Just your basic bacon and egg.

You want some?
No.

Uh, Tony and I are cleansing,
remember?

Oh. Right.

What does that entail again?

One solid week
of nothing but water

with lemon, cayenne pepper,
and a little bit of

maple syrup.
Mmm.

And one very nice salad
every day.

So this is some sort of...
competition?

No.

Uh, it's quite
the opposite.

After McGee's

recent emancipation

from coupledom,

he was talking about

making a fresh start.

A clean break.

Purging some toxins.

And so I thought

- I would offer to help him out.
- Stop.

First off, no one is
"emancipated."

Delilah just happened
to land a dream job

halfway around the world.

And secondly,

I seem to remember Tony

wanting to kick-start
the new year

with a healthier new him.

But New Year's was months ago.

Today is the first day
of the rest of our lives.

Actually, it's day two
and I feel fantastic.

It's much easier with a buddy,
isn't it?

Yeah, you bet, buddy!

Then... you're okay if
I eat this in front of you?

Absolutely.

Bon appétit.

You sure?

I mean, I... I can go elsewhere.

Well, we're all going elsewhere.

Dead Navy officer in Chesapeake.

In that case, nobody'll mind
if I finish this in the car.

This is gonna be a long ride.

Well, victim is
Ensign Lester Tate, 23,

currently assigned
to the USS Soteria,

home-ported a few miles
from here in Norfolk.

What do you think, Duck?

Mm, it was not
that texting driver

that killed the ensign.

But that damn fool
should be stripped of both

his phone and his car.

He already dead?

Quite.

These facial abrasions and...

bruised knuckles would indicate

a spirited round
of fisticuffs.

As usual, Jethro, we'll
know more in autopsy.

Hey, how's that
cleanse going, guys?

Shh.

The what?!

Nothing, boss.

Ah, yes, Mr. Palmer's

been telling me
about your joint endeavor.

It's the
age-old pursuit,

Jethro, of purifying
one's system with

a supplemented diet,
or colonic irrigation, perhaps?

Hmm. You guys
doing that together, too?

Keep shooting, probie.

Do we have surveillance?

Uh, none on this road, Gibbs.

You and Tony check the other
roads, canvass the neighbors,

see who saw the fight.
McGee, come on, you're with me.

Welcome aboard.
How can I help you?

Ensign, a word
with your XO.

Oh. Good timing, sir.

Commander Wexler?
NCIS on board.

What can I do for NCIS today?

You have an officer in your
command, an Ensign Lester Tate.

Oh, he's on leave
till 0600 tomorrow, sir.

Something wrong?

We're afraid he
won't be reporting.

He was just found dead.

What?!

Oh, my God.

On a street in Chesapeake.

- Looked like he'd been in a fight.
- Is there anything

you can tell us--
any conflicts or enemies?

None.

Far as I know,
everybody loved the guy.

What about Burke? Is he okay?

Who's Burke?
Ensign Thomas Burke.

He and Tate are good friends.

They rented a crash pad
in town for the week.

Only, Burke...

didn't report
for quarters this morning.

I just marked him
"unauthorized absence."

You have an address?

Well, this is just
a few blocks

from where we
found Tate's body.

No luck with
neighbors, Gibbs,

nobody saw a thing.

Ensign Burke!

NCIS! Open up!

Okay.

Get your hands
on top of your head!

- NCIS!
- Don't move!

I didn't do it!

Well, that's good to know.

Poor Tate.

Never should have left him.

You left him where?

The Silver Leaf. This, um...

This bar not far from here.

I cut out when he started
ordering shots.

Around midnight or so.

I just can't
believe he's dead.

All right, why don't
we forget last night.

Let's talk about
two minutes ago.

What about two minutes ago?
Remember that time

when we crashed through the
doors and we had our guns

and you went,
"I didn't do it!"

You didn't do
what, exactly?

You didn't know
Tate was dead, Burke.

What didn't you do?
I...

I, um... I-I'm drawing a blank.

I mean, you just
startled me, that's all.

I don't know what I was saying.

You're gonna have to
do better than that.

Well, I can't.
I mean,

that's as good as I got. I...

You know, if you're
gonna keep asking me,

maybe I should have
a lawyer present.

Bedrooms are clear.

Pretty gross, but clear.

DiNozzo, take
Bishop with you

and check out the bar.
Burke...

you want a lawyer, call one.

Tell them to meet you at NCIS.

Say cheese.

Yeah, he was here
last night,

till about midnight or so.

His buddy stuck around
a while after.

Would this be his buddy?

That's him.

Didn't realize
he was Navy.

Nice kid.

Hated having to
throw him out.

Throw him out?

Him and some
other guy.

Hell, he might have
been Navy, too.

Why'd you throw 'em out?

Trading punches
over some girl.

Just before closing,
around 2:00.

Some girl in here?
Couldn't tell you. All I heard was

a lot of "she"s and "her"s
as they were throwing haymakers.

It was
like a hockey fight.

Did it, uh, did it
continue outside?

Couldn't tell you.
My jurisdiction ends here.

You said the other guy
you tossed out was Navy, too?

I said maybe.

I get Navy people,
dock workers, townies.

They all kind of
blend in around here.

Mm. So no name or description?

I'm better with drinks
than names.

Kind of short,

dark hair, 20s.

Any other customers
who saw the fight?

Again, I'm better

with drinks...
Than names, yeah.

All right, you give me a call

if you can think
of anything else. Thanks.

You bet.

What do you got, Duck?

Uh, Ensign Tate's
blood alcohol level, 0.11.

Not fall-down drunk,
but drunk enough.

Cause of death?

Ah, well, I've managed
to narrow it down

to blunt-force crush trauma

to the squamosal suture.

Yeah, it's a
vulnerable

sweet spot where
these plates meet.

Not so sweet for Ensign Tate.
Indeed.

It's likely that
the ensign's killer

smashed his head
against the pavement.

Possibly repeatedly.

Yeah, I managed to pull some
asphalt samples.

I was about to
bring them up to Abby,

see what they tell her.

Well, have her tell me.

Mmm!

You know, it's funny.

You give your
taste buds a breather,

suddenly vegetables come
a whole lot more tasty.

Hilarious.
We have a timeline yet?

Mm, working on it.

We know Ensigns Lester Tate
and Thomas Burke

met at the Silver Leaf
at about 2145.

Burke left at midnight.
Tate and a mystery man were

tossed out for
fighting around 2:00.

Not much of a description, but
we put a BOLO out just the same.

Anything on
Tate's cell phone?

Yeah, one short call
last night between him

and Ensign Burke at 2115.

The old "meet me
for a beer" call.

Yup. Before that,
a few calls to his ship,

a few more
to Burke, and...

That's weird.

What's weird?

Two days ago, Tate exchanged
multiple calls from this number.

Which number?

It's our number.

The NCIS information line.

Hang on...

Okay, it's not us.

Calls went through
our main line,

but came out of our
F-and-S-V unit.

Family and Sexual Violence?

What'd they want with Tate?

Well, we're about to find out.

Gibbs.

Special Agent
Maureen Cabot,

I'm sure you
and Agent Gibbs have

crossed paths
at some point.

At various agency functions
we're forced to attend, yes.

You still driving
that Chevy?

Yes.

As you know, the Navy
is pushing harder than ever

to eradicate sexual assault
in their ranks.

Was Ensign Tate a rape suspect?

Right to the point, as always.

Uh, no, Gibbs, um, Tate was
a second-party complainant.

He reported an assault
on behalf of a friend.

What friend?

A fellow
junior officer

now refusing
to cooperate, Director.

Denies it ever happened.

What made Tate think it did?

Tate came to us two days ago,
saying his friend's behavior

had changed
in the last few weeks.

Uh, distracted,
short-tempered.

When he asked her about it,
she admitted the assault

and swore him to secrecy.

But he came to you anyway.

If only more like him did.

Did he know
the attacker?

No, and neither did the victim.

She claimed that she'd been
drugged and unconscious

during the attack.

So no suspects.

Oh, we've got suspects.
She told Tate

that the assaults occurred

after a night drinking with him

and several other
junior officers

during a port visit.

Did Tate's roommate Burke

know about the attack?

No, and his denials

were quite vehement.

"I didn't do it"
and "It wasn't me,"

over and over.

So, why is the victim
denying it now?

Take your pick, sir.

Shame, fear, loss
of peer status.

Did she know that it was Tate
who told you?

He's the only one
she confided in,

so she had a pretty good idea.

Who is she?

Special Agent Gibbs.

You need our XO again?

No.

I'm here to see you,
Ensign Farrell.

Me?

I'm sorry, Holly.

I told you,
there was no assault.

It never happened.

Ensign Tate said
you confided in him.

Why would he make that up?

You'd need to
ask Ensign Tate.

It's a little late for that.

He was my friend.

I would never kill
him or anyone else.

We were wondering if anyone else

could have acted on your behalf.

What, like a hit man?

There anyone else who knows?

Anyone else you confided in?

Never. I mean, I would never
tell anyone else that...

There was nothing to tell.

Nothing happened.

God, I don't want
to be doing this.

The only person
you told is dead.

But that had nothing
to do with me, right?

Please tell me it had nothing
to do with what I told him.

Well, to do that, I would have
to know what you said to him.

We had a port call in
Key West last month.

The crew hit liberty
like it was Spring Break.

I stuck with my
brothers, as usual,

my fellow J.O.'s.

How many?

Uh, six, including
Burke and Tate.

I can usually handle
my margaritas,

but halfway
through my second,

I... I felt like I had
chugged a whole bottle.

So I headed back
to the ship early.

As the only female J.O.,
you had your own quarters?

Next morning, I can't
say I, uh... I woke up.

It was more like
I... I came to.

I felt beaten up,

like I'd been through
a cement mixer.

At first, I was...
I was so mortified.

I felt like I'd done
something terrible.

So then I just...

hit the showers and pretended
like it never happened.

Next few weeks,
I felt worthless...

paranoid...

I mean, even
with my friends.

I-I had no idea
who attacked me,

so I couldn't help but
wonder if maybe they did.

I swear it was...

it was like I was
losing my mind.

Until Tate asked
what was wrong?

Then the floodgates opened.

Tate was so sweet.

He wanted me to call

the DoD Help Safeline,
but I... I-I couldn't.

I made him promise
he wouldn't either.

And that's when he came to us.

Hey, Gibbs.

Tony said that
you wanted to...

to see me.

I'll be right back.

Abbs, how long do drugs
stay in a person's system?

Um, well, it depends
on the drug.

A roofie of some kind.

Oh, no.

Oh, God, that poor girl.

Abby, how long?

Not long.

72 hours.

What are you doing?!

Holly, stop.

Are you telling her about this?!

I was gonna have
you drug-tested.

A drug test?

That would make
sense, Holly.

If we can prove that
you were drugged...

You can prove
I'm not a liar?

No one thinks you're lying.

So now this woman
knows about it.

And soon the entire Navy
will know about it?

I would never tell a soul.

If we found a drug
in you, Farrell,

we might have traced it
to whoever attacked you.

And catching him

might have pointed to
whoever killed your friend.

You can do that?

Well, we'd have tried.

But Abby here tells me
that any drug like that

would've been out of
your system by now.

But we still
have you, Holly.

If you cooperate, we can go full
bore after whoever attacked you.

No.

I'm sorry.

Have you seen the numbers

on sexual assaults?

Pretty bad.

Yeah, for all the talk about
preventing it,

condemning it, avoiding it,

the numbers on it
never seem to go down.

Everybody knows somebody
with a story to tell.

Or not tell.

Somebody what?

Where are we on Tate's murder?

Roommate's
alibi cleared.

Landlord saw
Burke stumble home

a solid hour before
Tate's bar fight.

We got anything new on that?

Well, if there is a rape
involved, we have a new theory

as to who Tate and our mystery
man may have been fighting over.

Bar's owner
heard them say "she" and "her"

as he was tossing them.

We now wonder if "she"
is Ensign Farrell.

And if our mystery man
also happens to be our rapist,

he may have gone to the bar
to shut Tate up.

And if he's on
the crew of Tate's ship,

then we can show the photos
to the bartender,

and mystery solved.

Well, then why are you
still here?

Yeah, it's Gibbs.

Yeah, Director.

I'm on my way.

Gibbs thinks Tate's killer could
point us to Holly's attacker.

Or they're one and the same.

Or one case has nothing
to do with the other.

One thing I do know:
without Holly cooperating,

the rape case is a
lot harder to prove.

Look, I... I hate to ask,
but one bogus claim

can cast doubt on
a hundred legitimate ones.

So are we sure that there is
something to prove?

You both spoke to her.

We're sure, Director.

I'm sure, Leon.

Damn.

What?

Well, just last week,

my daughter tells me that...

...she would like to become
a Navy officer someday.

Just like thousands of women
all around the country.

I want there to be no cases
like this when they get there.

So there's really
no convincing Farrell?

Not until she's ready.

All she wants is to
get back to her ship.

All right.

Oh, don't...
don't get up.

I just wanted to come
and check on you.

Sorry I yelled before.

I'm usually
a more trusting person.

Oh, you don't have
anything to be sorry for.

And I just wanted
to tell you that

I don't have any
firsthand experience with

what you went through,

but nothing
makes me sadder

or madder

or badder than
even the thought

of what was done to you.

And I really didn't
mean to rhyme just now.

You summed it up nicely.

As far as trust goes,

I want you to trust
me when I tell you

that you can trust
Agent Gibbs.

Like, a lot.

And I don't know
Agent Cabot that well,

but I know that her unit
is-is busting their butt

to try to stop
what happened to you

from ever happening
to anyone else.

I mean, how is
anything good and right

supposed to make its way,
if we don't help?

Oh, hey, Gibbs.

I wasn't trying to intrude.

I just wanted to
check in on Holly

before she goes.

Is she still going?

Can't make her stay.

Come on, Holly, I'll drive you
back to your ship.

Don't be a stranger.

Just take care
of yourself.

Wait.

I lied to you before.

You lied to me?

All of you.

Including Tate.

What are you saying?

What really
happened, Holly?

What haven't you
told us, Farrell?

I didn't hit the showers
first thing that morning.

I went to the NAS clinic

and filed a restricted report
in Key West.

D-Did they run
a rape kit?

Yeah. That's when
it sunk in--

the idea of
everyone knowing.

I couldn't go any further.

That rape kit will
still be in storage.

If you file an
unrestricted report,

we-we can have it
sent here.

It might take a few days...
N-No, it won't.

Okay.

I'll give a statement.

She'll get the kit.

Is there any
chance Tate fought

with one of
his shipmates?

No, none of them look familiar.

Anyone here in the bar
see the fight last night?

None that I see.

But give me a minute,
I'll look through those again.

Here you go.
Oh, perfect.

Thank you.

What's that?

Oh, sorry.

Uh, the waitress came by
while you were in the bathroom.

Chili cheese fries?
Are you serious?

Well, I haven't eaten
since lunch.

What are you talking about?
You've been eating continuously.

You've had, like,
nine or ten lunches since lunch.

I am not.
It just seems that way

because you're not eating
at all.

You're diabolically cruel.
No, what's cruel

is what you're doing
to yourself.

I mean, I don't even know why
you need to cleanse.

If McGee can do it, so can I.

Ah! So this is a competition,
which is... crazy.

I mean, you both look... fine.

"Fine." See what I mean?
Yeah.

Yeah-- good, fit, healthy...

...ish.

Ish?
Yeah.

Like you guys have anything
to worry about

in the looks department.

Give me a break.

Well, when you put it
like that...

Hey, fella.

You mind if I dance
with your daughter?

Get me some more water, please?

That's him.

This guy?

Me?
No, not-not you.

Him.

Get out of here.

Green shirt.

Just walked in.
That's the guy from last night.

He's so not Navy.

I said maybe.

I'll cover the door.

Hey, there,
can I ask you a couple...

Hey!
NCIS! Don't move!

Stop! Hey!

Well, you can't beat
a well-placed Dumpster.

Quite a hit parade
here, Eddie.

Armed robbery, drunk
and disorderly...

Doesn't mean I killed anybody.

Then why'd you run?

I'm an ex-con.
That's what we do.

So you don't have any friends
in the Navy?

Never been to Key West?

Look, I know nothing
about any girl on a boat.

Then who were you
fighting over?

Some chick
at the bar.

I was getting my grind on and
she pretended not to like it,

then suddenly Navy Boy
gets in my face,

saying it's creeps like me

that make life worse for guys
like him.

You believe that?

Completely.
Very much so.

So bing-bang-boom,
we did our dance,

and the bartender tosses us both

and we go our separate ways.

You sure about that last part?

I flew one way,
Navy Boy the other.

Believe me, I wanted another
crack at him, but my eye was cut.

That's why I went back to the
bar last night looking for him.

Why would I do that
if I knew he was dead?

Charming fellow.

Not our killer.

No. He has nothing to do
with our assault.

Any word
from Agent Cabot?

Farrell gave her
a full statement.

Now we just wait
for the rape kit.

Wait no more, Gibbs.

I mean, not for the kit
'cause that's still in transit.

But I was able
to pull some strings

with the Sexual Assault
Nurse Examiner in Key West.

I got the preliminary results.
Mmm.

Negative for DNA.
Yeah.

It's not uncommon for attackers
to wear a condom.

But look at the drug tests.

Ketamine?

A horse tranquilizer?

Special K.

The other date rape drug.

My God,
what chance did she have?

She's got a better chance now.

Gibbs...

...go and get
this son of a bitch.

So this attack had nothing to do
with Ensign Tate's murder?

We don't know yet,
Captain.

Case is under
separate investigation.

We're here solely
on Ensign Farrell's behalf.

Zero tolerance is no slogan
around here, Agents--

it's a moral imperative.
If that officer was harmed

on this ship, we'll move heaven
and earth to help you.

I only wish Farrell had
said something at the time.

We could've done
something about it.

We're doing something now.

We'll start by interviewing
the four remaining J.O.'s

who were with Farrell and Tate
in Key West.

- They're all yours.
- Captain, there was also

a sedative used in the attack,

and, without probable cause,
we can't search

your ship ourselves, so...

Understood. XO...

conduct a health
and welfare inspection.

Aye, sir.

Fine with me
if you want to tag along.

Yeah, sounds good.

Just putting together
a timeline,

Ensign.

Whatever you recall about
that shore leave in Key West.

Well, I-I know
we all had fun.

Just so stoked being back
on dry land.

Nothing but shipmates
in every bar.

It's like
we took over the town.

Seemed to me
like Holly was having a blast,

like the rest of us.

Did I see her leave the party?

I didn't see me leave the party.

Me and Tate were calling her
lightweight for leaving early.

We should've walked her back.

Yeah, pretty sure
I saw Holly at breakfast.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

Tate asked me, a few weeks
later, if Holly seemed okay.

I mean, yeah,
maybe she was a bit off,

but only Tate would come out
and ask her why.

When Agent Cabot brought you in
about the assault,

did you think
that Tate had accused you?

No way. No, no, no.

Tate was my boy.
He knew me better than that.

So you were...
you were never mad at Tate.

No, sir.

I was mad
at whoever did that to Holly.

That's why I called Tate
to meet me at the bar.

I couldn't believe she didn't tell us.
That girl was like our sister.

She always
has our backs.

And if we'd known what happened,

we'd have had her back, too.

Once you got back to the ship
that night, what was that like?

Everybody messing around,
playing jokes.

No idea what time it was.

Well, hang on, I-I know
what time it was. This...

app on my phone, it, uh,
timestamps all my photos.

Yeah, here we are,

for better or worse,
back in our bunks

at 0332.

There you are.

All together.

Any pictures of Holly
that night?

Uh, sure, I must have a few.

At least, I think so.

She did cut out early,
so...

Yeah, here's one.

A nice
group shot.

Keep your chinny chin up, McGee.

We'll talk to you soon.

All right, search of the ship
produced a dozen Cuban cigars,

some bootleg DVDs and one...

stowaway ferret.

But no ketamine.
Apparently

Gibbs' interviews
didn't go much better.

Then there's our case.

Oh, yeah...

We're in great shape.

Don't say it,
Miss Chili Cheese.

Ah, just the agents
for whom I was looking.

How are you, Ducky?

Better, thank you, Eleanor;
now that I have ascertained

a more definitive cause
of death for Ensign Tate.

Your prelim said
it was blunt force

to the Quasimodo something.
Mmm.

The squamosal suture was
in fact the culprit, Tony,

but death was far
from instantaneous.

The ensign suffered
an epidural hematoma.

Like a slow bleed?
Yeah, slow enough

that he may well have been able
to walk a fair distance

before finally succumbing
to his injury.

Walked?

Like, from the bar?

What punch could land
hard enough to cause

an epidural hematoma
to the squamosal suture?

Show-off.
- Hey, guys,

um, Abby's tied up,
you know,

on the...
on the other case,

but she wanted me
to show this to both of you.

Has to do with that asphalt
that we pulled

from Ensign Tate's head wound.

What about it?

Well, aside from the...

usual bituminous sand and tar,

she also found
trace elements

of vegetable oil.

Vegetable oil...

You know, like old,
burnt vegetable oil

with microscopic bits
of potato,

bread, onion...

Like from a deep fryer.
Exactly.

But I don't remember any
fast food joints near there...

No, but apparently they do.

Listen, uh,
I-I kind of hate to ask,

but is there any kind of reward
for helping you catch this guy?

We'll get to that, Fred.

But first we need to clear up
a few more details.

So, you dragged
both men out here

and sent them
in separate directions?

Yeah, I pushed one guy that way.

Which guy? Ensign Tate?

No, your bad guy.

The Navy guy I pushed that way,
toward the street.

Ah, towards
the street

and this
not-very-well-placed

and quite greasy
Dumpster.

Yeah, I been meaning
to clean that.

Any chance Tate
could have hit the Dumpster

when you pushed him?

I guess. It's right there. Why?

Because our "bad guy,"
as you call him...

he's not our killer.

Okay.

So no reward?

Uh, a very delicate spot
on Tate's skull

hit something hard,

heavy and... well, greasy.

It caused his brain to bleed and...
Wait...

Are you saying I killed him?

Well, you obviously
didn't mean to.

No, no--
i-it all happened so fast.

All I did was push.

We know that.

Oh, my God,
what did... what did I do?

He... he was just a kid.

Oh, my God,
what did I do?

So Tate defends
a girl's honor

and ends up getting
thrown on his head?

More or less. Accidental.

And it had nothing to do
with what happened with me.

Nothing beyond Tate trying to do
the right thing, both times.

That's him
all the way.

Think that's why I told him,

hoping deep down, he'd tell you
about it so I didn't have to.

I was just filling Holly in
on our interviews.

How could I ever doubt
those guys?

Like they'd ever be capable.

A long way from perfect
but they're my brothers

and I turned on them.
No.

No, someone turned on you.
And we will

find him, Holly,
even if it means talking

to every last man and woman
on that ship.

I'm not saying I don't want you
to talk to the whole ship.

I'm just saying
that once you do,

I'm not sure I can go back
on that ship.

Or any ship.

Don't quit.

I don't want to quit, sir.

But I also don't want people
looking at me differently

and whispering behind my back.

That's something I don't think
I can live with.

Gibbs, Gibbs,
Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs.

We got something.

Tell 'em, McGee.
Well, it was a long shot, boss,

but I got so frustrated
when the ship search

came up empty,
I ran a cross-check

between Navy personnel
and ketamine use.

And he got a hit.

A civilian medical clinic
in San Diego

treated a Navy officer
stationed there three years ago.

Lieutenant Monica King.

She came in
with a separated shoulder,

but the doctors found ketamine
in her system.

Why wasn't she treated on base?

Well, that's
a question for her,

except she left the Navy
two months later.

Anyone on the Soteria stationed
in San Diego three years ago?

No. It's the first thing
I checked.

But if we can find Monica King,

maybe she knows who drugged her.

And who drugged Holly, too.

Come on. Let's go.

Let's find her.

Appreciate your time,
Ms. King.

I see you're having some
rough weather there.

Aw, it's just
a little rain, sir.

And it's "Monica."

But no need for small talk.
Agent on the phone

mentioned my tour in San Diego?

Uh, more specifically, Monica,
a local clinic

that you visited there
for a shoulder injury.

And a drug test.

We don't mean to
blindside you.

You didn't.

I had a feeling.

Just, uh...

just kind of hard to believe
somebody over there

finally wants to hear
about this.

It's however you
want to tell us.

Well, uh...

the USS Panther was in port,
and...

like always,
a few coworkers and I

hit the Officers' Club
just to say hi

and have a drink
with some of their people.

And, uh...
I had just started on...

my second glass of wine

when my eyes
got real, real heavy.

I-I barely remember getting back
to my apartment across from base

before I-I just passed out.

And the, and the rest
is kind of sketchy.

Just dark flashes and...

a weight on me.

My arm was twisted
real, real hard behind me...

and, uh...

Do you really need
to hear about this?

Did you know who it was?

Never saw him.

You know, I waited a day
to tell my XO.

Stupid. He said

without a name,
what did I expect him to do?

No. ROTC...

three years active duty,

all my dreams

just over

in one night.

What's that XO's name?

Rundy.

I hear he's a captain now.

Old-school, untrained,
insensitive...

There's no Rundy
on Farrell's ship.

I'll find him.

Boss, I'm not finding anyone
named Rundy on the USS Panther.

No, no, no-- Rundy was
Monica's base commander.

We need to cross-check
the Soteria's crew now

with the Panther's crew
from three years ago.

Got it. Anyone that served
on both ships.

It's late.

It is not too late.

Oh, it's not too late at all.

Who?

This is nuts.

Sit down.

Really?

What, was I not
helpful enough for you?

No.

No, you were very helpful.

Let you search my ship,
question my guys.

On what, the word
of one girl?

Who's great and all,
but, come on,

a whole month and a half later?

Do you know this woman?

You met her
three years ago

in San Diego,
when your previous ship,

the Panther, was moored there.

No.

I was on the Panther,

but I never laid eyes
on this girl.

She wasn't a girl, Wexler,
and neither is Holly Farrell.

They were both Navy officers

when you laid
a lot more than eyes on 'em.

Hey, back off.

I put in 15 years
in seven different commands.

I've worked with hundreds
of female J.O.'s.

You think these two
somehow turned my head?

We looked into those
seven commands, Wexler,

and we found a total of nine

female subordinates that were
assaulted in the same way.

A good XO stays on top
of his crew on liberty.

He pops into the
bars they hit.

Maybe buys 'em
a round of drinks.

If you even suggest

that I'm a rapist,
which I am not,

it'll kill my career.

I don't recognize
any of these women.

Because they're not unconscious?

You son of a bitch...

You've been saving that one, Mo.

You have no idea.

Today is a much
better day.

Understatement
of the year there, Bish-op.

Just met with Fred
the bartender's lawyer.

He thinks the charge will be reduced to
involuntary manslaughter.

Yeah.

Sure beats
the alternative.

Right?
Mm-hmm.

You must be feeling good,
Mr. Purple Shirt.

Mm-hmm.

Without your mad
computer skills,

there would still be
a predator on the loose.

Yeah.

Yeah, it feels good.

What is it?

Nothing.

Tony, I'm sorry.

How long?

Just this once?

Okay, it's been the whole time.
But we...

we've been working late.
I was weak.

I don't even know
who you are anymore.

Wait, please,
I have another one-- here.

Take it. It's yours.

You can't buy me
with your pepperoni.

I want a steak.

And creamed spinach.

And French fries.
Mmm.

Can I get in on this?

Yes. Absolutely.

Steaks all around.
My treat. Let's go.

Hmm.

Okay.

It's hard
to wrap my head around.

I mean, the guy never
came across as a Boy Scout

or anything, but neither do

half my friends.

Hard to know
some people.

Yeah, especially
somebody like him. Ugh.

And Cabot
really cracked him?

Okay...

I'm really antiviolence,

but it was awesome.

I wish you could've seen it.
Yeah, me, too.

But I'll get my shots in
at his court-martial.

Where are you heading?

Shipmates are having
a little memorial for Tate

before he's sent back
to his family up in Syracuse.

There'll be a lot of talk about
Wexler and what happened to you.

You ready for that?

Guess I'll just have to be.

Do you need... some
company or anything?

No.

I have a ride coming.

Thanks for offering, Abby.

And, you know, for everything.

She was right about you.

Oh, well, she's right
about a lot of things.

Hey, Hol.

Ready?

She just stole
your move.

That was
totally a...

patented Gibbs
head slap right there.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man