NCIS (2003–…): Season 13, Episode 21 - Return to Sender - full transcript

It's beautiful.

Awesome.

It looks just like
every other one we sell.

Yes, but this one costs
one-third the price.

Shouldn't we buy
American-made products,

not overseas knockoffs?

Price gouging is rampant
in the funeral market.

It's the only way
to change the system.

Listen to your brother and help
him unload the last ones.

Daddy's boy.

The casket market will continue
to be run by "The Big Three"

until small funeral home
owners come together.

We must think outside
the pine box.

Dad?

You don't like my gallows humor?

Dad, get in here.

Is there damage?

Not exactly.

Someone's been
living back here.

That explains the smell.

Still think international
shipping is worth saving a buck?

At least they're already gone.

And they only opened one box.

Well, thank goodness,
it doesn't look damaged.

- Oh, my God.
- Ugh!

They already come
with customers.

That is a good deal.

Gallows humor.

♪ NCIS 13x21 ♪
Return to Sender
Original Air Date on April 19, 2016

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

It was supposed to be fun.

I know.
It started out that way.

I know.

Why am I now questioning
my very own existence?

Ooh.

What happened in here?

Someone leave religious tracts
on your desk?

I'm helping
Tim apartment hunt.

A new place is supposed to
mark new life, new goals,

personal evolution.
Yes.

Not a sandpit of crushing
self-realization.

- No.
- Mm.

That expensive, huh?

Super.
Ridiculous.

I mean, it's not like
Delilah and I are looking

for Downton Abbey, you know,

but, I mean, something
with a little bit of space,

maybe close to a park,
would be nice.

I recently downsized
and ended up paying more.

Yeah, that's a bummer.

Hey, did you ever notice
in the elevator

that the vacuum marks go
in two different directions?

It's kind of interesting.

You have nothing to add
to our conversation?

Uh... no. I like my place.

Well, of course you do.

It's beautiful and spacious.

Yeah, with a view.

The doorman can be cranky.

How much do you pay?

Huh? Come on,
that's personal.

Over three
grand though?

Three diesels?
I can't afford that.

A place like yours wouldn't go
for under three

even if the doorman were
a giant cockroach.

Senior told me

that there's two things you
should never discuss at work--

mortgage payments
are the second.

Uh, what?
You own?

Cat's out of the bag.

It's a pretty funny story,
uh, actually.

Not ha-ha funny, but, uh...

Wait a second, you had that
place before I got to NCIS,

so you purchased it
when you were a probie?

How?

Loan from your dad?

Generous cougar?

Dead body. At the mortuary.

Not exactly a news flash, boss.

Let's go.

Grab your gear.

So what's the deal?

Was it an inheritance or...?

It takes two weeks for
shipping containers

to cross the Atlantic.

And no shuffleboard
on the lido deck.

Just pillows, junk food
and a few fashion magazines.

Which is pretty much nirvana.

For me anyway.

Others might go crazy.

Like our victim.
Yeah.

No obvious cause of death.

Could have been from boredom.

Metro pulled, uh,
an I.D. out of her pocket.

Name is Sandra Billingsley.

A guard at Prickwillow
Prison in England.

Sounds like a Dickens novel.
Love the British.

Doesn't explain why she's
living in a sea container.

These might.

These are prison jumpsuits.

Are we looking at the bad end
of a prison escape?

We are a family business.

Uh, an American business.

And we support other
American businesses.

Usually.

We pass our savings along
to our customers.

Always.

Container was opened
before it arrived?

I assumed the customs
inspectors broke the seal,

but now...

We never saw anybody
go in or out.

Huh. Okay.

Thank you.

Hey.

Our dead prison guard
was taken hostage

in a prison break
three weeks ago.

NCA.

British National Crime Agency
and Interpol

both thought the fugitives
were still in Europe. Oops.

Boss, we got info on our
two missing prisoners.

Uh, the first one
is Cassio Chavez.

Murder conviction
three years ago.

And former MI6 officer
Jacob Scott.

Espionage in '02.

Real-life spy.

Our dead body, both
prisoners, all Brits.

I bring it up because
there's no Navy connection,

so why are we here?

Professional courtesy.

Gibbs.

Hello, Tobias.

I thought you'd want to know
because NCIS are the ones

who put Jacob Scott in prison.

Yeah, uh, we were just
getting to that part.

Evidently now he is
a murderer, too.

But that's just the bad news.

What's the good news?

I'm gonna put him back for you.

Domestic manhunt.

Obviously FBI jurisdiction.

This is my case.

Great.

You couldn't have
just e-mailed?

I wore a hat.

Now I got to do
my hair again.

It's always good
to see you, Gibbs.

If you don't mind,

I have to find
your missing killer.

Two prisoners escaped
from Prickwillow Prison

outside London.

During a routine
prison transfer,

they took a guard hostage
and stole the transport van,

found dumped
near River Blackwater.

When in fact they were headed
to the Port of Felixstowe,

where they boarded the Maelstrom
Adventure bound for Norfolk.

Less than three percent
of all containers

entering the U.S.
are scanned by customs.

Thank you for that fun fact.
You're welcome.

Once our cons made port, a
hostage was no longer required.

So they likely killed her.

Parole board may frown on that.

Throw that onto their
life sentences.

Cassio Chavez murdered
his own mother

after she flushed
his heroin stash.

And our British spy?
Jacob Scott, former MI6,

caught selling U.S.
nuclear Intel to Russia.

Caught by us, NCIS.

He stole Navy info
that we shared

with British allies post 9/11.

Bad time, bad man.

Hey, speaking of, uh, 2001,

I pulled some of the public
real estate records

from northwest DC.

Didn't someone we know buy
an apartment back then?

Yes, and in fact

if we adjust for inflation,

Tony still paid
way below market value.

How "way"?

Wow "way."

Explains how you can
afford it, Tony,

but not how you managed it.
Who did you con?

What part of "FBI
case" was unclear?

It's just for our edification.

You looking for
a fight, DiNozzo?

No, not particularly.
Are you?

A little bit.
Well, you got one.

Director's office, now.

Why involve a third party?

Why don't we settle
this right here?

Bring it on, Gramps.

What year were you born?

Keep working.

I asked Homeland Senior Division
Chief Morrow to join us.

Great, another agency.

Because, as you may remember,
Agent Fornell,

Chief Morrow was formerly
director of NCIS.

When we put Jacob Scott
behind bars.

Something that I'd hoped
would be permanent.

Blame the British.
I do.

It was NCIS Intel
that led to Scott.

We handed him over
to them for trial,

as a favor to my British
counterpart.

Saved face.
No.

They missed a leak
in their own house.

Now that he's
on the run again,

it looks twice as bad.

We'll keep the damage minimal.

No, there's no expiration date
on political capital, Leon.

For both of us.

Excuse me.
Mm-hmm.

This is Morrow.

FBI has primary
jurisdiction

for all crimes in which state
borders have been crossed.

Yeah, I'm aware.

Oh, good, because
for a minute there,

I thought we were throwing out
107 years of precedent.

That same precedent also says,

"except cases in which
jurisdiction has been

assigned
to another agency."

And as it turns out, Agent
Fornell, this one has been.

You already talked to my boss.
Yes.

NCIS now has the lead.

Hey, Tobias.

Did you know about this?

Eh, cut the act.
What?

Calling us to the crime scene.

"Courtesy" my ass.

You wanted us to fight
for this case.

Yes. Yes, I did.

Are you kidding me?

International and state borders?

It's a paperwork nightmare.

Why not just ask for help?

Wouldn't look good.

Anyway,
tell me how it turns out.

Agent Fornell, you didn't give
me an opportunity to finish.

Your director
and I both agreed

that an FBI presence
is still required,

so you'll be riding shotgun.

I know this is hard for you,

and we'll be in touch.

Thank you.

Victim's family?

No, our prison guard
has no next of kin.

Her parents are gone,

and her sister died in
a car crash last year.

No one to claim the body.
Not yet.

So who were you consoling
on the phone back there?

Cassio Chavez Sr.

the father of our
convicted murderer.

Huh.

Dad blames the drugs

and is worried Cassio
will start using again.

Okay, I'm confused.

What exactly
does he want?

He wants us to find
his escaped son

as fast as we can.

Devoted father.

Claims to be, but
I looked him up.

Oh, Daddy used
to work at the port.

Felixstowe, where our prisoners
boarded the cargo ship.

Might explain a lot.

Mm-hmm. Getting past security,
getting on the ship.

No easy task.

Unless they have an inside man.
Mm-hmm.

Alcatraz,

Leavenworth,
Guantanamo Bay.

When it comes to prisons,
famous and infamous,

the United States
has a monopoly.

I doubt if anyone
outside the UK,

apart from the Tower of London,

could name a British
correctional facility.

Brixton.

Wandsworth.

Well, being former inmates

disqualifies you
from answering.

And why did they put you
in different prisons?

You were both arrested
for the same incident.

They drive on the wrong side
of the road.

Nothing makes sense.

You got a cause of death,
Duck?

Oh, you've arrived
a little prematurely.

Cause of death has not
yet been determined.

New phone?

I am no longer a Luddite.

Since when?
Since now.

I still respect
your beliefs, Gibbs,

but they are no longer my own.

I am trying new things.

With NCIS taking this case,

I was supposed to have time
for that kind of thing.

Jethro,

there is one item
of interest.

These marks.

Needle marks.
Indeed.

There were a high level
of progesterone

in her preliminary blood work.

The hormone?
Yes.

Commonly injected into women

who are trying to get pregnant.

Sadly, this young lady

will never have a family.

Unlike Cassio,

former MI6 Officer Jacob Scott
has no living family.

And anyone connected to him had
basically turned their backs.

Treason will do that.

Apparently no ties to anyone
in England, America.

No friends, no followers,
no minions, nobody.

Come on, even Caligula
had a horse.

After murdering most
of his human friends,

the emperor made
his horse a Roman senator.

Easier to trust a horse.

Why are we talking
about horses?

Trying to find out who Jacob
Scott might know in the U.S.

Prison logs--
any visitors?

Uh, his defense team
and reporters mostly.

Last visitor was over
five years ago.

Name is Miranda Okafor.

Background.

Yeah, Fornell.

This is interesting.
Look at this, boss.

Hmm, a green card.

Miranda Okafor
is an immigrant.

From the UK.

Came to America
five years ago.

Now owns a laser tag franchise
in Alexandria.

The Lazer Zone.

That's exactly right.

Scott's fingerprints have been
found at a second crime scene.

Let's go--
you're with me, Butternut.

I will pull up
driving directions.

Did Agent Fornell
get a new phone?

Welcome, future crime fighters!

I hate places like these.

Give me the willies.

Image captured!

Don't forget your I.D. card!

What the hell was that?

Oh, yeah, that's a good look
for you, Tobias.

You're just jealous.

Please report
to your battle stations!

No longer just a prison break.

It gets worse.

Mm, it's our British

laser tag owner,
Miranda Okafor.

Tag, she's it.

Here you go, sir.

What's this?

Medical report.

I told you to wait
until the NCIS M.E. got here!

It's their crime scene.

I don't want to see any files
on my desk this weekend.

Where's the rest
of your team?

You all right, Tobias?

Yeah, I just...

might have some plans
this weekend.

What kind of plans?

Two gunshots

to both bodies,
all from close range.

Execution.
No murder weapon.

We got two sets of prints

matching those
of our escaped convicts.

Bodies.
The male is

Max Allinson--
he's the janitor.

Female is our owner--
Miranda Okafor.

No rigor.

Dead less than two hours then.
Yeah.

Jacob Scott has a head start,
but not much.

- Why were they here?
- Got something!

Course perimeter
is lined with sensors

so if a player steps
out of bounds,

a blast vest sounds an alarm.

Warning, you are out of bounds!

Okay, what's your point?

My point is

why would this fence be
out of bounds?

It's just a fence, right?

No.

Secret door.

And that closet door was open.

Keypad was busted.

Weapons are missing.

Yeah, the real kind.

Explains what our
prisoners wanted here.

Found these in the safe,
but no cash.

Fully armed and funded.

So, who was
Miranda Okafor?

Who keeps a spy stash
in a laser tag arena?

Turns out the owner
is former MI6.

"According to British S.I.S.,
Miranda Okafor retired

"five years ago,
before she moved to the States

and opened a laser zone."

Provocateur to
entrepreneur.

She trained Jacob Scott.

Yeah, and visited him in prison.

They were friends.
Why kill her?

Maybe she wasn't friend enough
to keep quiet.

So... where did
our jailbirds go?

I don't know, but till
we have a straight answer,

I think it's best we keep
out of Gibbs' eye line.

And put the apartment hunt
on hold?

Yeah.

When this was my office,

I used to offer my guests
a nice single malt.

What the hell is that?

It's more nutritious.

What can I do for you, Leon?

If I'm not gonna get that drink,
home is calling.

Jacob Scott hasn't exactly been
keeping a low profile.

Now, the money I understand,

but he could run
without the extra firepower.

Unless he has other plans.

Like trying to get back
into the espionage business?

Why not?

Scott spent 14 years in prison.

He's got nothing to sell.

He got to it once.

NCIS left
no loose ends to pull,

if that's what
you're driving at.

Scott was a Navy Intel asset
before there were SpecOps.

At MI6, he functioned at
the highest level of security,

especially
for his age.

Until we got a tip from the CIA.

That he was selling
nuclear Intel.

After 9/11,

everyone was very interested
in who had what.

Russia, Iraq, Iran.

Information was valuable.

And once you had Scott,

NCIS went after his buyer,
as well.

Nika Razin.

She worked at the Russian
embassy in Turkey.

The raid went pear-shaped
and she was killed.

Not ideal,
but mission accomplished.

Meaning?

Scott had no family,

now, no country,

and with his buyer dead,
no allies.

No loose ends.

And the Russians?

Hell, they denied

all knowledge, of course.

The wounds took years to heal.

That is a scab
not worth scratching, Leon.

Is that an order
or a request, Tom?

Advice.

Keep me in the loop.

Okay.

Who is she?

The phone, the plans.

Are you dating
again, Tobias?

Mm...

Okay.

And if I am?

Just tell me.

Okay, my sex life...

Oh, God, just...

No.

You asked,
and if you're gonna get

all judgy about it,

you might as well
have the details.

"Judgy"?

I date women on my phone.

Using apps.

They click, I click,

and then if we click...

You get the idea?

Online dating.

Probably your worst nightmare,
isn't it?

No.

No, this conversation is.

Look, it's been

over a year since Diane died.

This...

Hey, got anything?

A bone to pick with the FBI.

Get in line.

Your examiner still
hasn't released

the bodies from
the laser tag.

Anything else, Duck?

Yeah, how about a cause of death

for your British prison guard?

Yeah, perfect.

Sandra Billingsley
died of asphyxia.

Strangled?
No.

Suffocated?
No, neither.

That would take just
a matter of seconds.

Not long enough
for her airways

to became inflamed
and swollen

causing her surrounding muscles
to contract,

and her-her
bronchial tubes

to narrow.

Asthma attack?

Indeed.

Probably not uncommon
for this woman,

and usually she'd be
able to manage it.

Except she had nowhere to go.

Trapped in a poorly
ventilated box.

And that's probably
what triggered

the attack in the first place.

You know, sea containers
are stacked tightly,

one against the other.

I mean, all she could do
was sit there,

and slowly choke to death.

Could've taken hours or...

even days.

It's still murder.
Unless...

she was in that container
by choice.

Which she was.

Back up.

I processed everything from
inside the shipping container.

Everything?

Yeah, everything.

All two weeks worth.

Luckily, they planned well
enough to bring buckets.

Actually,
they planned too well.

There was enough food,

a duffle bag
full of bottled water,

there were pillows, blankets.

They even brought magazines.

Ooh, I know that.

Last month's issue
of Fashion Fauxward.

Hilarious.
Tina Fey-- so ironic.

My point is, how were they
able to get all this stuff

that quickly after they escaped
and not get caught?

It's like it was...

Pre-packed.
Yeah. Yeah.

All right, check this out.

So the magazine has a torn
address label on it.

Can't really
make it out,

but when you compare
it to what we do know

from Sandra Billingsley's
London address...

Magazine belonged to her.

Yeah, so either our
prisoners were kind enough

to let their hostage go home
and get some things, or...

So the prison guard
wasn't a hostage.

Yeah, she was
an accomplice.

Time to talk to the Brits.

It's 2:00 a.m. in London.

Prisons never close.

An accomplice?

I bet the prison warden wasn't
too happy about that one.

Nope.

He insisted on talking to
Director Vance tomorrow morning.

Aw, nuts!

What's wrong?

I forgot to ask Tony
to get extra garlic bread.

By the way, great idea, getting
him out of the apartment.

It was your
idea to watch

The Lazer Zone security footage
back here at his place.

I'm just surprised
he went for it.

Well, I think Tony's
actually enjoying this.

Ooh.

And he will be back any minute.

What'd you find?

The windows are brand-new,
heater's brand-new,

brand-new.

Which explains the tax credit
for energy efficiency.

Making the utility bills
practically nonexistent.

The more we dig, the more
depressing this is.

Should we stop?

It's like we're
missing something.

Yeah.

What about
Stachybotrys chartarum?

No, I thought of that
and negative.

It's actually negative
for all types of mold.

Hmm.

Well...

other than the fact
that this piano

is in front of
the double doors,

there is nothing
wrong with this place.

What are you doing?
I'm coveting.

Are we missing something?

You think Tony keeps his
real estate statements here?

Wait, are you
talking about

breaking into his
personal files?

It's not like he hasn't
snooped on us.

That's true.
Mm.

Or maybe there's another way.

Maybe...

we call in
reinforcements.

I agree.

Look at this.

Our prisoners, walking out
after the murders.

Looks like they're splitting up.

Which means
we are now looking

in two different
directions.

I really need
that garlic bread.

Where are you,
Jacob Scott?

Hi, welcome
to Capitol Cruller...

Yes, Pamela?

Sir, you have that
9:00 a.m. call in MTAC?

Well, I'm not pulling out now.

I've already ordered.

Uh, so they should
start without you?

I will be there, damn it. I...

Look, I drink that
green stuff every night.

I'm not giving up
my morning donut.

It's the only thing
I have left that has any taste.

Yes, sir.

But you did ask me to...

To what?

Hello?

Hello?

Nice and easy.

I think you have the wrong car.

Keep it running.

Okay.

Your breakfast tea
will have to wait today.

You're former agent
Jacob Scott.

You followed me from my home.

The Internet's grown so much
since I was away.

And never mind the chat-up...

no one's coming to rescue you.

You can push that panic
button all you like.

You have a cell phone jammer.

You're quick.

That'll help.

Now drive.

Think of your children.

Any luck?

Well... I got a dinner date.

Huh?

Yeah.

Tony's dad made me promise
to have dinner with him

before he told me anything
about Tony's apartment history.

And?

And he has no idea how
he got it so cheap.

Senior played me.
Rude.

Well, I haven't
done much better here.

Beyond public property info,

my Internet search
has been a bust.

Well, Tony was a cop
before NCIS.

Maybe he's got underworld
connections?

See, I think he only wants us
to believe that.

Blackmail?

Did he actually
get that lucky?

Neither.
Neither.

Do both of you guys
know the story here?

On the case. Got it.

A British prison break has left

two convicted felons
loose in the greater DC area.

They split up.
And now that he's armed,

Jacob Scott could be looking
to get back into the spy game.

Okay. How?

These are all
very good questions, boss.

I'm not looking for compliments.

BOLO's out, but there's no sign

of Scott or Cassio
since yesterday.

Not helping, Bishop.

Well, we've got
a prison worker

who has aided in a prison escape.
How about that?

Yes.

Her Majesty's Prison Service

will be calling soon in MTAC.
Boss...

the director's assistant
said to start without him.

Should've led with that, Chucky.

I thought that nickname died.

You mean, when my wife did?

Turn ahead.

What do you want?

You killed your only
friend in the world,

Miranda.

What happened?

Keep your hands on the wheel.

Can I help you?

You just did.

All right.

Take it.
Let's be done here.

I still need you.

And I'm not nearly done.

So what about on our
laser tag arena owner?

- She a British sleeper spy?
- No.

I processed
Michelle Okafor's

computer,
her cell phone, her office.

She is just totally committed

to e-combat for
children of all ages.

Using her very
particular set of skills.

She came here

to live her American dream.

And enjoy
Second Amendment rights.

Yeah, but here's the thing:

All of her weapons were
legally purchased and licensed.

And locked in
a hidden wall closet.

In a laser tag arena.

I'm not condoning it.
I'm just saying,

you know, our victim had
no current ties to overseas.

If that's our
laser tag owner,

who's this lady
next to Jacob Scott?

I was told I'd be speaking
with Director Vance.

We appreciate you taking
the time, Manager Grimm.

Naturally, Chief Morrow.

The name of one of my guards
has be called into question.

It's not a question.
It's fact.

It's a bit premature
to fit the noose.

We're all officers
of the law here.

You can holster
that six-shooter.

He must mean you.

Agent Gibbs may be something
of a cowboy, Manager,

but I've worked
with him for a long time.

He doesn't jump to conclusions.

Officer Billingsley would never
willingly assist a traitor.

You don't have the full story.

We agree. Right, gentlemen?

We need her personal
and professional records.

Everything you got.

Everything "we got" takes time.

And, how do you say...
"Time is money"?

Then "give it some stick."

Very clever, Agent Gibbs.

But taking the Mickey
out of us...

System's restarting, sir.

I.P. protocols
reset whenever

a security breach is
detected on the network.

She's saying
it's a precaution.

No need to worry.

Uh, sir?

Cell phones aren't
permitted in here.

McGee. We've got
a network security alert.

What the hell is it?

It wasn't me!

It was Courtney.

Which one was Courtney?

Oh, yeah... Courtney.

System restart was routine.

Internet resets in
the whole building,

but it wasn't triggered by
Agent Fornell's cell phone.

Told ya.

It was triggered by an alert

at a data center in Anacostia.

Ours.

NCIS accounting
and personnel files,

mostly non-classified data.

But someone accessed our records

using a duress password.

Only used in the event someone's
got a gun to their head.

In a manner of speaking.

By who?

Director Vance.

Building secursaid that

Vance's keycard was used to
enter a private access room.

I think it's this
door down here.

Is this good news
or bad news?

Leon?

In here, Gibbs!

Open the damn door!

You all right?
Yeah. Scott's gone.

Where?
No idea. He had me at gunpoint.

He used my keycard
to steal Intel.

McGee, why the hell didn't

my duress password

shut down the system
immediately?

It's a delayed alarm, Director.
Why?

If it had shut
down immediately,

he might just
have shot you.

What did he get away with?

A single file.

It's not even
classified.

And it's old.
Really... really old.

This file's got to be worthless.

Not to him.

The stolen case file is a list
of six NCIS operatives

involved in a joint
MI6 operation in 2002.

Just names, no info.

A top sheet.

Practically useless without
the full case file itself.

Murdered two people
to steal it.

Why?

Jacob Scott could have
just as easily disappeared,

raised cats in Connecticut.

Is that a thing?

What was the operation in '02?

Juniper Strike.

And?

We only know as much
as this top sheet says,

and while the list
wasn't classified,

the operation
it refers to is.

And since it's
a joint operation,

we'll need clearance
from British S.I.S.

Gibbs?

I'd rather not wait, Director.

Me neither. Go.

Just to be clear,

you want us to hack into
the case files?

Got it.

I figured it out.

Where the bad
guys are hiding?

No, your apartment.

The giveaway
was the fact

that Gibbs, Fornell
and Abby knew about it,

so I figured it was
case-related.

Good guess,
Inspector Clouseau.

Not a guess. Your apartment was
the scene of a triple homicide.

Mm, amazing what a
good paint job will do.

Previous owner
hacked up the bodies

with an electric
carving knife.

In your living room.
Mm-hmm.

Yeah, I couldn't get the...
blood out of the floorboards.

That's why I put the
piano over there.

It was Gibbs' idea.

Out of sight, out of mind.

I guess we have been
to enough crime scenes

to sort of take away
that stigma a little.

Not really.

But you saw the price.

You know, the fact that
so much time has passed now,

you don't even have to disclose
those deaths when you sell.

Wait, is that true?

Abby?

Ready when you
are, Abbs.

Abbs?

I'm ready.

Whew.

Did you think I was in the coffin?
Uh...

If the shoe fits.

It didn't.
I tried.

Plus the lining
is non-biodegradable,

and the velvet thread count
is criminal.

I wouldn't be caught dead
in that thing.

Did you call us down here
to talk about coffin comfort?

No, financial records

for Sandra Billingsley.

Dead prison guard accomplice.

Yep.

So a month ago,
she put down a deposit

at a company in Delaware.

Ooh, fertility
clinic.

She was planning to get
pregnant here in the U.S.

That's not the interesting part.

When she put down the deposit,

she was required
to give a local address.

Apartment
in Dover.

In her name?

No.

Lila McClane.

I did a background
check on that,

and it ended up
being a dead end.

Alias.

Yeah, but if she planned
this whole thing

with Jacob Scott, then...

He knows about this place.

Could be where
he's hiding.

Thank you.

Get him.

No one's home,
but the curtains were open.

Someone is definitely
living there.

Team's in place?

Ready for my signal.

Sorry.

I got tired of riding shotgun.

Will you make up your damn mind?

Are you in or are you out?

Oh, who's that now?

Courtney?

No, it's Rita.

How many you got?

None.

Doesn't sound like it.

Well, I can't get it up.

Ah, geez.
No, the nerve.

I can't get up the nerve
to go out with them.

I should start this all again.

Please, don't.

I text these women
through the apps.

They sound wonderful,
but... I always seem

to come up with excuses
not to met.

You nervous?
No!

Got plenty of game.

It's just...

Is it too soon?

You were married to her.

I was twice.
Tobias...

I want to date.

Well, uh, you know what,
then date.

Just-just do it.

You don't need my blessing.

I'm not asking
for your blessing.

But if you were gonna give it...

I'll text her back.

Well, hold off, lover boy.

Cassio Chavez.

Not the criminal
we were expecting.

Well, second best is
gonna have to do.

I owe you one.
Yeah, you're damn right you do.

Go, go, go, go.

Gibbs, now you got
to do the paperwork.

Get down on the ground, now!

Prison records show you
went through their drug program.

Fall off the wagon?

Stress can do that.

Double murder.

Prison break.
Yeah.

It's a lot to juggle.

I go half-crazy choosing
neckties in the morning.

Yeah, well, he's already
got a life sentence.

Right, no consequences.

None of this bothers him.

Unless...

the baby and the apartment...

Were all for you.

Sandra was the love of my life.

She was there for me.

Through rehab, my darkest times.

And during hers,

all I could do was sit
and watch her die.

F-For two days.

In the sea container.

Two days...

before I could lay her to rest
in that casket.

It's the only thing I've done
right since she's passed.

Because you started using again.

Do you think
they'll let me bury her?

With special privileges...

it's not likely.

Unless... you tell us
what happened.

I didn't mean to kill
those people.

It was you?
It was the drugs.

That woman, she gave us each,
you know, a little money

and-and said she was willing
to look the other way

as long as we never
came back again.

You did.

Yeah, well, she had so much
more, you know, in the closet,

so... so I got high and, uh, and
then I come back for the rest.

The prison escape.

It was a year of planning.

Between us.

You and Scott.

No, Sandra.

Scott wasn't part
of the plan.

He was just assigned with me
on kitchen duty.

He requested
that assignment.

So what?

How'd you meet Sandra?

Well... Scott introduced us.

Oh, man.

Yeah, well, that was,
like, two years ago.

He's been playing you.

Two years?

Man really wants to get
back into the spy game.

Spy game? No.

No, mate.

Jacob Scott's out for blood.

Yeah? Whose?

Yours.

He said NCIS killed his wife.

No record of Scott
ever being married.

This doesn't make any sense.

You got into the case file?

Enough of it, anyway.

So what was Juniper Strike?

2002 raid
in Istanbul, Turkey,

to take down Scott's
Russian buyer.

We already knew
about this.

Exactly.

Buyer was killed.

Russian national Nika Razin.

Hey.

I've seen her before.

In a photo from
the laser tag office.

She's dead; why does
Scott still care about her?

She was his wife.

He was selling
secrets to his wife?

Talk about
The Spy Who Loved Me.

The stolen file, put it up.

Top sheet was a list

of people involved
in the operation.

Aka his wife's death.

Boss, this is
a hit list?

Where would he start, Gibbs?
The top.

The man who ordered
the whole damn thing.

Cover the back.

NCIS!

We too late?

Okay, let's do this.

Hi.

NCIS.

Pottery club ended an hour ago.

Agent Gibbs,

is that why my phone's
been ringing?

Yes, it is.

Is your husband home?

Yeah, he's in the den,
working on his book.

I'm guessing you're not here
to help proofread.

No, we're not.
All right.

Wipe your feet.

Double doors,
right over there.

Nice place.

What do you think
he pulls in at Homeland?

He give us the slip?

No.

Can I get you guys anything?

Something to drink?

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man