NCIS (2003–…): Season 15, Episode 9 - Ready or Not - full transcript

RADIO DEEJAY: Stay tuned
for your morning traffic

at the top of the hour
after this smooth jazz.

(smooth jazz playing over radio)

(sniffs, scoffs)

Three dollars for a paper cup
of burnt mud?

Only in America.

Do forgive my English.

In what language
should I repeat that?

Or perhaps I could
speak more slowly.

No, it's cool, mister.

I got it.
Let me make you

a fresh pot.

(ringtone plays)

Hey. How long has
your phone been on?

Just half hour or so.

What did I tell you?

Oh, relax, Andre,
would you?

No phones until
the job is done.

Job is done and it's
my mother from Kiev.

What son doesn't answer
his mother's calls, huh?

Just make it quick.

You worry too much.

(dog barking in distance)

Hello, Andre.

Well done, MI5.

Uh, Mr. Ford, is it?

Congratulations.
You found me.

Blasted thing gets the spottiest
reception in the States,

but the tracking feature turned
out to be quite remarkable.

Leaves me
with one question.
Hmm?

Did I find you in time?

In time for what exactly?

All right.
Let's make it two questions.

My answer to the first
is you are far too late.

And the second?

(both groan)

(groans)

Oh, no.

Is this because of me?

(groans)

(gasps)

(van door closes, engine starts)

(tires squealing)

(line ringing)

SLOANE:
Hello?

(gasping)

Hey, Ford?

Nigel?

Are you there?

Hello?

*

Put me down for some of them
sweet potatoes.

BISHOP: Abby already called
sweet potatoes,

but we still need
cranberries and...

REEVES: Cranberries.
I'll bring those.

Okay.
No one
wants me cooking.

How many tins
you think we'll need?

TORRES:
"Tins"?

You mean cranberries
in cans?

Some people
actually prefer them.

This is my first
Thanksgiving, Nick.

Well, don't make it your last.

Bring as many

"tins" as you want.

I have a cranberry recipe.

We'll compare.
Hey, McGee,

what about you and Delilah?

You guys coming to
Ducky's potluck tomorrow?

Oh, we may have to take
a rain check on that one.

Is Delilah feeling okay?

McGEE:
Oh, way better than me.

No, I've been up all night

building a second
easy-to-assemble crib.

Got three pieces
left over--

Flurgendoofs,
I think they call them.

I don't know what
to do with them.

I still don't understand how
it's medically possible

for you two to not have
known you were having...

twins.
McGEE:
The shrapnel

in Delilah's spine made it
so that a regular ultrasound

is impossible
and the babies' heartbeats

are so close together
in rhythm,

doctors just missed it.
It's crazy.

Yeah, what's even crazier
is that we now

have to come up
with two babies' names.

Nick McGee. Ooh.

Has a nice ring to it.
McGEE:
No, no, no.

For the, for the boy,
we've got it narrowed down

to Indiana, Han, Harrison.

REEVES:
Oh, gosh.

Poor kid.

Han McGee.

Yeah, and for the girl...
BISHOP:
Let me guess.

Leia?
No. No Leias.

No Ellies, no Abbys.
We've narrowed it down

to six names for the girl
and they are...

Ah, save it for
later, McGee.

Saved by the bell.

Dead MI5 officer
in Old Town.

MI5?

Friend of Sloane's.

(siren wailing)

You know what happened?

(helicopter whirring)

What?

Hey. No.

He called me right before,
uh, he, uh...

The store owner's the only...

the only, uh,
witness, apparently.

I'll check the
security footage.

REEVES:
Is that Nigel Ford?

You knew him?

Somewhat of a legend
at our training academy.

Cool bloke,
great officer.

We all wanted to be him.

Yeah.
You worked with him?

Special joint operation
two years ago.

Reconnected when he got
into town last week, so...

REEVES: Last I heard,
he was chasing

some international
arms dealer.
Andre Yorka.

That's the name.
SLOANE:
That was our case.

Nigel tracked him
all the way back here

after he snuck in
on a fake visa.

I was supposed to deliver
my old files to him tonight.

Try to figure out
what old Andre was up to.

But what was old
Andre up to, Jack?

Well, nothing good.

That's pretty clear right now,
isn't it?

Hey, uh, is this your
arms dealer over here?

No. I don't know who that is.

I have Yorka's picture
back at my office.

Might have one here.

Clerk I.D.'d this
man as the shooter.

That's him. That's Yorka.

Fingerprint came back.

Second victim is
Viktor Lopuchin, 42,

Baltimore resident,
currently employed

in commercial food delivery.

Cops said he was unarmed.

REEVES:
Innocent bystander, maybe?

TORRES:
And this may be Yorka.

Or at least his blood.

Trail ends around here.

Burnt rubber points to
a fast getaway.

Get a BOLO out on Yorka.
Armed, wounded, dangerous.

Abby, can I call you back?

ABBY:
No, you can't.

I mean, everything's fine

and there's no reason to panic.
(engine revving)

Well, why do
you sound panicky?

(exhales)
My water broke, Tim.

Delilah?
ABBY:
I-I just,

I went over to your place

for breakfast and
it just happened.

Uh, uh, are-are you okay?
Is she okay?

I'm okay.
She's okay.

She-she's just,
she's breathing really hard.

How did this happen? I mean,

you're not due
for another three weeks.

Well, apparently, the babies
had other plans, darling.

Just meet us at the hospital.

Wait. Wait, Abbs.

GIBBS:
McGee.

Go.

Go!

Excuse me, an emergency.

(siren wailing)

Excuse me, very urgent.

Oh, no.

Uh, excuse me, excuse me.

Has-has my wife
come through here yet?

We're having a
baby-- two of 'em.

Special Agent McGee,
follow me.

A little VIP treatment for a
fellow law enforcement officer.

Morgan Cade,
retired park police.

Took this job last year
after my wife died.

Pretty short
on excitement,

so when the goth girl
wheeled your wife

into my E.R.,

(clicks tongue)
I got ready for action.

Twins, huh?

Son, your life's about
to change forever.

(elevator bell dings)

(indistinct radio chatter)

MORGAN:
Here's your man.

(sighing):
Oh, McGee.

Thank you, Morgan.

Where is she?

Um, she's okay,
I think.

The doctor's
working on her now.

W-W-Working on her how?

You would be Tim?

Where's my wife?
Can I see her?

She's with Dr. Serena now.

Just a routine exam.
No need to be concerned.

Well, then let me see her.
NURSE: In just a few minutes.

I promise you,
she's in good hands.

Make that very
good hands.

I've seen some amazing
things at this hospital,

so you let the doctors
do what they got to do

and I can promise you
it'll all work out for the best.

(baby cries)

(baby coos)

Officer Nigel Ford,
42 years old.

Royal Air Force,
Scotland Yard.

Joined MI5 in 2010
as a covert operative

assigned to monitor
global threats.

Monitor what exactly?

BISHOP:
Andre Yorka, 38.

Dishonorably discharged
from the Serbian Army

in '06; ran with the
National Alignment hate group

a few years, before
his late father

got him into the
munitions trade.

Now, Yorka fancies himself
a master dealmaker,

but he has made far more enemies

than allies
over the years.

Shady business practices
got him banned

from several countries,
and most recently,

Romania, which froze his assets
just last year.

REEVES: Bad things always seem
to happen when this guy pops up.

MI5's been trying to nail him
for years,

always manages
to skate free.

He hires local talent
and leaves them behind

to take the fall.

Like our innocent bystander
at the store.

He's not so
innocent after all.

Before immigrating
to the U.S.,

Viktor Lopuchin had ties to
Vory v Zakone, the Russian mob.

His record's been
clean in the U.S.

since he started a-a food
delivery business in Baltimore.

Old habits die hard.

If Yorka hires local talent...

BISHOP:
What did he hire Viktor to do?

All right. Keep digging on both.

Any surveillance
from the shooting?

Metro's sending it over.

I'll call and have them hurry.

What about Sloane?

Anybody seen Sloane?

What?

She's down in Autopsy.

JIMMY:
I appreciate the assist, Doctor.

Stuffing the turkey
can wait.

We have more
pressing matters.

Once MI5 asked to have
both bodies examined,

I suddenly found
myself shorthanded.

Should we divide and conquer?

JIMMY (quietly):
No, let's, uh...

let's both start here.

At least until...

SLOANE: Hey, Jimmy,
just let me know

when you need me to
get out of here, okay?

He meant a lot to you.

Mm-hmm.

JIMMY:
Was he...?

I mean, were you two...?

(laughs)

Occasionally.

Uh, no, he was a...

he was a really good friend.

Shoot, I forgot
to tell him that.

I forgot to thank him.

I believe you just did.

I swear to God, if Yorka
did this, I would give anything

to kick his ass.

Put me in a front-row seat.

Gibbs, he is a racist,
misogynistic creep,

and when we do find him,
I swear I am going to...

Okay. I got it, I got it.

I got it.
We'll see what we can do.

Duck.

We just put him
on the table, Jethro.

Perhaps in an hour...

What are you doing?

What's that smell?

That smell, what is that?

Is that...
(sniffing)

gasoline?

That gun powder?

Plastique.

Like Semtex? C-4?
Uh-huh.

Dr. Sloane, if plastic
explosives are involved,

your friend's killer may deserve
more than a kick in the ass.

Delilah, honey, are you okay?

Babe, you made it.
Yeah, I'm fine.

Better than fine.
She's ready.

She's ready?

Early labor's fairly common
with twins.

I hope we told you that.
Well, if you
had told me that,

I would have been there
for breakfast every day.

Well, it's a good thing
you were.

There could have been
complications,

but you got her here
just in time.

So, this is happening?

In the next few hours.

Ready or not.

In the meantime,

try to relax.
(exhales)

I'll be back.

Mm-hmm. Thank you.

Relax?

How can anyone relax?

Tim.
Sorry.

I can relax. We can relax.

I brought your comfort kit.

Your comfort kit?

From birthing class.

Only that's not my kit, Tim.

Mine's in my car.

Yes, but I got a duplicate
in my car.

Look at this.
I brought your...

favorite comic books, uh,

we got...

your mini fan right here,

and, of course,
your aromatherapy bear.

Oh, thank you.
Okay, that's too sweet.

Like, seriously,
it's, like, too sweet.

Is there anything else you need,
Dee? Just tell me right now.

You know what I'd kill for?
Huh?

Grape soda. Ice-cold.

Okay.
Wait, wait, wait.

Wait, wait. I'll go.

Oh, no, no! Please, let Tim go.

Tim knows just the kind I like.
Right, babe?

Grape soda.
Ice-cold. Sit tight.

(Delilah sighs)

I love you.

You should've let me go.
He needs to be here.

No, he needs a task
when he's nervous.

I can't even drink grape soda
right now. (exhales)

I'm not allowed to drink
anything while I'm in labor.

You're really good. Hey, um,
you think you could, uh,

give me a task, too? 'Cause
I'm, like, really nervous.

Yeah, actually. Could you just
feed me ice chips on demand?

Okay? And just...

uh, listen to me when I...
(shouting)

(shouting)

I'll make sure
the nurses know.

MAN (over P.A.):
Report to the E.R., please.

(elevator bell dings)

Hey, big daddy,

what are you doing down here?
How's your girl?

She's good. We're, uh...
we're ready.

Listen, Morgan, thank you
so much for all your help.

Well, that's what fellow law
enforcement officers do, right?

We help. What about you?
What do you need?

Is there a soda machine
around here?

The cafeteria
doesn't have grape.

Say no more. Follow me.

MORGAN:
Here you go.

And it even has grape.

What's wrong?

McGEE:
I don't believe it.

It's him.

It's who?

McGEE:
It's Yorka.

All right. Thanks.

That was Baltimore PD.

They're still searching Viktor's
apartment, but no red flags yet.

Maybe because he hasn't
been there in days.

What do you got?

Viktor's credit card shows
he booked

a room at the Westcott Hotel

in Georgetown
two days ago

and still hasn't checked out.

The Westcott.
That place is huge.

TORRES: Let's
get over there.
Count me in.

(phone rings)
Hang on, hang on. I got McGee.

Hey, McGee.

You got us all.

Give me some good news.

Boss, he's here.

What?

Who's where?

Who's here?
What's going on?

Hold on, boss. Morgan,
there is a guy against

the back wall there.
He's got a dark jacket.

Some kind of leg injury. I need
you to keep an eye on him.

Why? What did he do?

Well, it doesn't matter,
but if he is who I think he is,

he's a very bad guy.

So just keep an eye on him until
I can get backup down here.

Roger that. I'm on it.
All right.

GIBBS: McGee!
Uh, sorry, boss.

What bad guy, McGee?

Our bad guy. Sloane's bad guy.

Yorka?
Wounded, bleeding,

and a dead ringer
for the guy on my phone.

We'll get to you soon, huh?

MORGAN: Thank you.
It shouldn't be long.

(groans)

Hey, uh,
sorry for the wait, fella,

but it shouldn't be
too much longer.

It's too long for me.

Well, look, uh,
that leg looks pretty bad.

Let me see if I can jump you
ahead in line, huh?

Look, just hold on, now.
Just wait a minute!

(people gasping)
Oh, God.

Drop it!
Everybody out!

NCIS!
You drop it!

Stay back!

Take it easy. No one else
needs to get hurt.

Everyone gets hurt!
You understand me?

Patch me up, get me out of here

or everybody gets hurt!

GIBBS:
Bishop, Sloane,

you're with me.
Torres, Reeves, hotel room.

Wait, really?

REEVES: Hotel? Are you serious?
Gibbs, you heard McGee.

Yeah, I did. And before
that, I heard about a guy

who might be making a
bomb in a hotel room

in Georgetown.

Gibbs...
Hey, if there's
nothing going on,

then come to the
hospital. Got it?
Gibbs...

Do you got it?

Please, just let me help him.

(strained): I'm okay.
No cops. I want no cops!

I can't guarantee that. You know
someone called them the moment

you pulled that trigger.
Then drop your gun.

Don't drop it! Shoot him!

Shut up!

Oh!

Let her go!
Then drop your gun!

Okay, okay.

Look.

Now slide it over.

You want to die right now,
old man?!

No. No. Nobody dies.

No one else
is gonna die today, Yorka.

No one else, huh?

You know my name.

Look, one thing at a time.

Now, we need
to get you patched up.

But, first,

you got to let them go.

I don't have to do anything.

(siren approaching)

Then let the girl go.

Don't worry about me!

(woman screams)

Keep your mouth shut, old man!

Or else the next bullet
goes right here.

No, there's no need
for that, okay?

Look, we'll-we'll get you help

and we'll get you out of here.

I'm hearing a lot of talk.

Doctors!

Hello? Is there
a doctor here?!

We need help!

Nice try.

Now go and get a doctor!

And don't come back
till you have one.

(grunts)

No.
What?

(sirens approaching)

I'm not leaving 'em behind.

I need you to evacuate
in an orderly fashion!

Quickly, this way, move, move!

Everybody back behind
the barricades! Hurry!

Lieutenant, NCIS.
What do we know?

NCIS? Why are you here?

We already have a man inside,
which is probably why

it's so quiet
in there.

Unless you know something
we don't.

Witnesses say it's one shooter,
two or three hostages,

and another one
trying to talk him down.

That'd be McGee.

Wait, wait.
We got this, Agents.

One punk with a gun is nothing a
little shock and awe won't fix.

Wait, wait, shock and awe?
This guy's no punk with a gun.

He won't hesitate
to take others down

the moment he feels threatened.

So you know him?

I know he's
an international felon,

and I know he will leave
scorched earth in his wake.

Got it?

Do you want to fight me
for jurisdiction on this?

All yours then.
We got your back.

Pleasure.
Stand down and stand by
for further orders.

Back behind the barricades!
Hurry up!

You got to work
with me here, Andre.

You know we're not
gonna have much luck

getting a doctor
unless you put that gun away.

Then I suggest you try harder.

Okay.

(groans)

Please, let me go.

Shut up, you stupid cow!

Now then, I appreciate
you playing hero, my friend,

but it will end badly.
I promise you that!

(quietly): Did you hear that?
Time to put the weapons away.

I wasn't kidding when I said as
soon as Yorka feels outgunned,

he'll start shooting.
Believe me.

So we just walk
in unarmed?

No.

Andre needs to feel
like he's in control.

We got to try to win him over.

Bishop, go back around
through the treatment room.

Come out the other side.

Sloane, go with her.
Stay out of sight.

Why? You think I
can't control the urge

to punch him in the face?
Well, yes.

Right now, it's more important
you listen and advise...

...than show all our cards
up front.

Right. I keep forgetting you're
really good at what you do.

GIBBS:
Don't shoot me.

How's it going, McGee?

Living a dream, boss.

(door closes)

Hey, McGee.
Hey.

YORKA: Unless
you're both doctors,

I don't recall inviting
either of you.

No, we're not doctors.

Unarmed. Here to help.

McGEE: And the chances
of you getting

what you need just
got a whole lot better.

Especially if you
let me help him.
Not yet.

First, we search.

You, get back.
Get back!

(whimpers)
Anyone moves...

she dies.

First her.

Look. Look in the pockets
in the back!

Unarmed.

Indeed.

Now, boss man, over here.

You, move.

Now him.

Him! Go!

Look.

Pocket
in the back, look.

(gun clatters)

Keep searching.

Impressive.

Now the ankles.

(Morgan groaning)

(grunting)

Go.

Oh, he got me good.

YORKA:
Get up!

Now then...

who are you, really?

GIBBS:
NCIS.

Gibbs and Bishop.

We know what happened
this morning with MI5.

In which case,
you know nothing.

Maybe.

So, you'll let these two go
in exchange for us?

Sounds like a fair trade, right?

I'll decide
what's fair, blondie.

No one leaves here

until this bullet
is out of my leg

and I have a secure transport
out of the country.

That first part
I can guarantee you.

The second part--

the transport out--

it's gonna take some time.

Then I suggest you try...

(phone rings)

(groans)

How far would McGee go
to get you a grape soda?

For me?
The ends of the earth.

And whatever
that red light is...

it's been blinking a while.

And that can't
be good.

(man speaking over bullhorn)

Um...

I'm sure that's nothing.

And-and Tim--
wherever he is--

I'm sure he's... fine.

Totally fine. You know?

Mm-hmm.
But I'm just gonna...
I'm gonna go check.

Hmm.

Let him go, fella.

He's got two babies
coming upstairs.

Is that right?

Two babies?

(groans)
GIBBS: McGee.

What's he talking about?

I don't know, boss.

Uh, the guy's delirious,
he's losing blood.

Enough!

That makes you

much more valuable, hero.

The new daddy will
never meet his babies

unless my demands
are met immediately!

A doctor. Now!

Look, I'm flying solo back there
with two critical patients

I'm trying to get out of here.
Okay, well, where are
all the other doctors?

The shooting started, they
ran out with the patients.

I mean, the cops have this
entire wing sealed off,

so getting in and out
is impossible.

Let me see what I can do.
Thanks, Doctor.

Yeah.
(phone vibrates)

Hold on.

Hey, Abbs, what's up?

Have you heard from McGee?
He's not answering his phone

and the hospital
won't let me go look for him.

It's some kind of emergency

or something.
Yeah, we know, and actually,

McGee is here
in the E.R. with us.

Us? W-What are you doing
in the E.R.?

We need a doctor, Abbs.

Oh, it's trouble?
I knew it.

Is it McGee?
How bad is it?

SLOANE:
It's hard to explain.

Look.

Okay, this is...

way worse than I imagined.

Yeah. We'll have them out soon.

Hey, how's Delilah doing?

Delilah is in labor!

Like, major, major labor.

What am I supposed to tell her?

Honestly, why tell her
anything right now?

(phone beeps)

That's Torres calling, Abbs.

Send a doctor if you
can. Got to go. Bye.

Hey, Nick, what's up?

Why is Gibbs
not answering his phone?

SLOANE:
He's a little busy right now.

Why, did you find something
in the hotel?

You name it, we found it.

Both men
were definitely here.

And, uh, one of 'em had company.

Along with bomb plans, parts,
and a train schedule.

A train schedule?
REEVES: We've got Metro

and Homeland on high alert,

but until we figure out if the
train or the actual station

is the target,
nothing gets shut down.

Any chance the train was just

their-their way
of getting around?

Well, either way, you can add
"terrorist" to Yorka's résumé.

I'm not so sure,
Nick; terrorists

are driven by
their beliefs.

Yorka only believes in himself.

He is spiteful and petty.

It has to be something
more personal than that.

Personal, as in
a particular person

riding one of those trains?

SLOANE:
Find out who that is, you guys.

It might narrow
down your search.

I don't suppose
you could persuade Yorka

to tell us where to look?

Yeah, well, I'd say
we're a long way from that.

Got to go.

But if it's time to turn up
the heat, we might as well try.

You good to go?

Yeah, I'm good.
Good.

I got you.
Okay.

Where the hell's my doctor?

Where the hell's
your bomb?

What?
What?

Our agents found bomb plans
and a train schedule

at your hotel room.
My hotel room?

Bishop, are you nuts?

You're just gonna admit all that
right in front of this guy?

Lose every bit of leverage

we did have?

SLOANE (quietly):
I knew you'd get it.

Okay, I'm sorry, Gibbs.

You're sorry?!

Geez.

Women.

They do like to talk,
don't they?

Attaboy, Gibbs.

You got us over
a barrel, Andre.

Then get me a damn doctor.

We will.

Soon.

Soon as you tell us
where the bomb is.

Again,

you have it backward.

Nothing happens
until I'm patched up

and out of here.

And, as you now know...

...the clock is ticking.

So go!

Hey!

All good.

McGee's just...

pacing around down there.

Sure he'll be up
here really soon.

Oh. Well, I won't
hold my breath. (chuckles)

But nice try, though.

ABBY:
Um...

Um...

he's...

not all that involved, so...

Just right in the middle of it?

Like, directly,
right in the middle of it, yes.

That's what I was afrai...

Ow! Ow.

(pants, exhales)

Ooh! Ow.

What do you mean you can't
get a doctor in here?

Don't tell me to sit
tight, you try harder.

"Sit tight."

Hey, Gibbs.
Could it be that hard?

You can pull this off.

I'd sure enjoy
the hell out of trying.

Don't enjoy it too much.

Shot of morphine'd do the trick.
They don't leave that

lying around here, do they?
No, they don't.

Ah. But enough ketamine
will make him pretty sleepy.

Yeah, great. Go, Doc.

Get suited up.

Nothing to tell us
where it is. Any luck?

Nothing to do with bombs
or trains,

but this is fairly interesting.

You hacked Viktor?

Was there ever a doubt?

In his business folder,
there is an order

for frozen Maryland crab cakes

placed by the International
Coalition for Peace.

Ugh. Who would eat
frozen crab cakes?

Anyway, I looked up this group,
and it's a consortium

of dignitaries
from all over the world--

France, Belgium, Romania,

Croatia, Italy.

Wait, hold on-- Romania.
Didn't Romania

freeze Yorka's assets last year?

Sloane said it was personal.

Where were
these crab cakes going?

REEVES:
Here it is.

Delivery invoice.

Scheduled for this morning.

They delivered this morning?

3:30 a.m.

for a pre-Thanksgiving brunch

hosted in the main ballroom
of the Westcott Hotel.

Reeves, that's here.
And brunch starts
in five minutes.

I'm calling Homeland.
I'll call hotel security.

MORGAN:
I'm sorry, kid.

I'm really sorry.

Morgan, don't be sorry.
Just hang on, okay?

We're gonna get you
out of here.

One way or another.

All right, found you a doctor.
YORKA: Finally.

What took so long, sweetie?

Powdering your nose?

Something like that.

Hey, she's here
to save your sorry ass.

Let everyone else go.

Stop telling me what to do.
McGEE: Look, just let Morgan go,

okay? He's bleeding out.

Stop telling me what to do!

Now, I've waited
long enough!

Let's get on with it!

Security's meeting us
down there.

Well, at least
you got a person.

All I get from Homeland
was a recording.

(phone chimes)
Oh, great.

Now Metro PD sends the
crime scene surveillance?

A little late
for that.

Is it?

Seriously?
There could a bomb downstairs

and you're worried
about a crime scene?

You're right. Let's
just stand here,

waiting for the lift to open,
patiently, shall we?

Here. Watch it.

All right, see?
He kills Ford.

Then he turns around.

And bang, he kills Viktor.

See that? Blood trail.
No surprises.

REEVES: Getaway car
is actually a van

from Viktor's
food company.

Wait a minute.

There's a third person.

What?
Yorka had a driver.

No.

No? It's just a local, sir.

No, no painkillers.

No tricks.

It's gonna hurt
like hell.

Pain I can handle.

Don't worry.

We'll see about that.
Excuse me?

We'll see what's going on after
I cut your pant leg open.

Ooh.

(inhales sharply)
Wow.

Oh, you new at this, Doctor?

With a gun pointed
at my head, yeah.

Oh.

(Yorka groans)

I wouldn't...

...if I were you.

You didn't think I'd come here
alone, did you?

Damn it. Easy.

Scissors could be sharper.

I could look for better ones.

No, it's okay.

NICOLE:
Hurry up, would you?

I never signed up
for this, Andre.

I know, my pet, but here we are.

(groans)

(groans, whimpers)

He'll get here, Delilah,
you know he will.

What if he doesn't?

McGee's been through
way worse than this.

He will be here.

Just... just hang on.

Oh, I can hang on.
It's these two I'm not...

so sure abou-- ow!

(groaning):
Ow, ow!

(growls)

(Yorka growling)

(groans)

Maybe it would be easier if we
just took your pants off.

You're not taking my pants off.

I'm a doctor.
I've seen them all.

Just keep cutting.

We've all got our
shortcomings, don't we?

What did you say?
Nothing.

No shortcomings here,
believe me!

Now just keep cutting!

SLOANE:
Okay.

(groans)

All right.

McGee, get him out of here.

Okay, come on,
let's go, come on.

No. No!

Just let him go, Andre.

All right, legs up. Come on,
let's get you out of here.

We have to get
out of here!

(groaning):
You be quiet.

Bishop, you, too, go.

No, Gibbs, I'm good.

(Yorka groans)

(Sloane grunts)

(Yorka groans)

Ooh. That's not so good.

Just get it out of there.

Bishop, Yorka had a second
accomplice. Call me back.

NCIS, hey.

Dave Barbado,
hotel security.

Rest of my team
should be here shortly.

Shortly? We don't
have shortly.

Where is Romania sitting?

Romania? Guys, take it easy.

There's no bomb.

And how do you know that?

With this guest list?
Homeland had a team

comb this place this morning.

Well, don't mind if we
check ourselves.

Hang in there, Morgan. Hello!

Help, Doctor. I need
help, Doctor, please.

He's been shot.

Sir. Here, look at me.

Can you hear me?

Yeah, yeah.
McGEE: He lost a lot of blood.

Okay. Uh, just stay
with him for a minute.

I'll be back
with more hands.

Everyone okay?
You get him?

We got him, Morgan, we got him.
MORGAN: Yeah.

All of us.

You...

everything you got going on,
you never left me.

Thank you.

Anything for a fellow
law enforcement officer.

(laughs)

Y-You go now...

you be a great daddy.

I will.

And, Morgan, thank you.

Morgan?

Morgan.

(screaming)

Sure I can't give you something
for the pain?

(Yorka groaning)

No. Just hurry!
Get it out.

Ow! Ow!

You got this, okay?

You can do it.

I-It's all, it's all about
your babies now.

Damn straight it is.

DELILAH: Tim, hi.
Hey, hey, I'm here.

Hi.
Hey, baby.

Okay.

I hear it's time to push.

Oh, it's way past time.

(inhales)
Ooh, let's go.

(exhales, cries)

Excuse me.
Sorry, sorry.

Gentlemen, I'm so sorry.

Excuse me, excuse me.

Guys, come on.

There's no bomb.

Eh, there's-there's
no bomb, folks!

Knock yourselves out,
guys. This is on you.

This entire room has been
triple checked.

The entire room?

Just this room?
TORRES: What about the kitchen?

Ho-ho-hold it,
hold it, hold it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy.
If there is something, let's be

a little bit more gentler,
shall we?

All right, well,
there's nothing here.

There's nothing under mine.

(beeping)

Out! Out! Everybody out!
Everybody out!
Get out!

Ladies and gentlemen,
the exit's to the south.

Please move to the exits.
Get out of the room!

Stay calm.
REEVES: Out! Out! Everybody out!

Out! Evacuate!

(groans, screams)

Keep it up, Dee,
you're doing great.

Give us another big push.
(Delilah groans, screams)

(Yorka groaning)

(Yorka screaming)

(gasps)

SLOANE:
(grunts) Ah.

Got it.

(Yorka groans)

That is a bomb, right?

Well, it's got to be.

That's a brick of C-4,
or clay, maybe.

Clay? Why would it be clay?

Who sticks wires
and a motor in clay?

I don't know. Then it's C-4,
but shouldn't there be a timer?

There's always a timer
in the movies.

There's no timer,
but it's definitely ticking.
REEVES: It's absolutely ticking.

So what now?

I don't know.
Call the bomb squad?

What if there's no time?

How would you know
if there's no timer?

Well, good point, but what now?

We cut the wires?

Okay, well, there's a red one
and a yellow one.

Which one do they cut
in the movies?

This is not a movie.
Yellow.

Always yellow.
Okay.

No, wait.
What?

Wait-- no. You know what? Red.

Definitely red.

Okay. Yeah. Maybe.

How about both?

And then we run like hell.

I like that plan.

Okay. Wait.
What?

The ticking's
getting louder.

And faster.
Do it.

(powering down)

You know, you can
put that away now.

Why would I do that?

We still have my transport
to discuss.

Our transport.

Yes, baby, our...

transport, of course.

(phone rings)

Well, there's your
transport, right there.

Answer it.

(phone beeps)

Yeah, Torres.

TORRES:
We got the bomb, Gibbs.

And we shut it right down.
GIBBS: (laughs) That right?

Yeah, man.
Just like in the movies.

Ooh, you'd be so proud.

Is what right?
What did they say?

Your bomb is a goner.

Andre,

we don't need you anymore.
What?

He said you're finished.

(Yorka screams)

Andre!

(Sloane yelling)

GIBBS: You got him.
You got him.

You got him. Whoa.

That man, that man you killed?
Hey, hey.

He was a good man!
Sloane.

He was a... he was my friend.

(coughs)

He was my friend.

They're perfect, Dee.

They're perfect.

I still can't believe it.

Hey.

So, the news says

it's over.
We got the bad guys.

Oh, thank God.

Anyone else hurt?

Nope.

Not that I know of.

So I'm gonna,
um, go down.

Uh, do you want
a grape soda?

And can I send the gang up?

No to the soda.

Yes to the gang,
if they're up for it.

ABBY:
This is only, like,

the best Thanksgiving ever.

(chuckles)

Just saying.

Hey, little buddy.

Hey, it's Mommy.

I guess it's name time.

Yeah, I've been rethinking
those, uh, Star Wars names.

Mm.

How about John?

After your dad.

John McGee.

Johnny, meet your sister.

Your sister.

Your sister...?

We got it narrowed down to six.

Can I add a seventh?

Oh, seriously?

How do you feel about...

What?
Morgan?

Morgan McGee?

Mmm.

Johnny and Morgan.

Yeah. Yeah, that
sounds right.

Hi.

That's a pretty picture.

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