NCIS (2003–…): Season 16, Episode 15 - Episode #16.15 - full transcript
I said double-time it!
Is that all you got?
Come on! Right now.
Pick up the pace,
you pathetic pollywogs!
You will never be accepted
into the Kingdom of Neptune
at this rate!
Rotate!
Being welcomed
into the mysteries of the deep
is an honor!
It is a privilege
that must be earned.
I thought crossing the equator
was supposed to be fun.
This is worse
than boot camp!
What say you,
esteemed Shellbacks?
Have they proven themselves
worthy?
Nay!
You heard them.
Figure eights!
You got to be kidding me.
Brown! Those who dare defy
the king of Neptune end
up in Davy Jones' Locker.
Man overboard!
Man overboard!
Starboard side!
Report to your
muster stations, now!
♪ NCIS 16x15 ♪
Crossing the Line
Original Air Date on February 26, 2019
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man
Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late.
The MPD, uh, cop
I hooked up with last month
gave me a--
a jaywalking ticket this morning
and, uh, well...
talk about a scorned woman.
Nice.
All right,
that would be a whoops.
Thank you for that illuminating
and highly inappropriate
recap, Agent Torres.
Uh, Director, I, uh...
did not see you standing there.
And by hooked up, I meant, like,
you know, we
get together
and discuss a case.
We know what
hooking up means.
We're 17.
Not seven.
Well, this mentorship is
off to a fantastic start.
Wait, I'm sorry.
Say what?
Mentorship?
Agent Torres, I'd like
for you to meet the winners
of NCIS's essay
outreach contest.
This is Hayley,
Blake and Max.
They'll be shadowing you
for the next two days.
Okay, okay.
That was pretty good.
You find that amusing,
Agent Torres?
Oh, you... you're being serious.
Mm-hmm.
Um...
Director, may I
have a word with you?
Uh, see, Gibbs,
McGee and Bishop,
they're the ones who
volunteered to be a mentor.
Not me. Because, like...
not my thing.
Seeing as they're on a helo
en route to the USS Ewing,
their assignment
now falls to you.
You three are in
very good hands.
And I'm certain that
Agent Torres will
do his very
best to give you
a proper introduction
into life at NCIS.
As if his job depended on it.
Sir.
- You sure you're a real agent?
- Yeah.
Why?
You're wearing
a T-shirt.
A women's small,
from the looks of it.
Don't you own a suit?
Um, outdated much?
Agents are only required
to wear suits
for court or formal proceedings.
Yeah. What she said.
We're looking forward
to this, sir.
Consider us sponges
ready to absorb
all the knowledge
you have to impart on us.
Did you just call me "sir"?
Yes, sir.
Actually, that does have
a nice ring to it. Hmm.
What's first on the agenda,
Agent Torres?
Agenda...
Yeah, okay.
A coffee.
One sugar.
On it.
And for your information,
this is a compression T-shirt.
It increases circulation.
Keep telling yourself that.
Anyone else feel like
they're in the middle
of a Pirates of the Caribbean
movie?
Arr!
You know what?
Loving the costumes.
Yeah, it's part
of the Shellback ceremony.
It's a Navy tradition
when the ship
crosses the equator.
What's this stuff all over
the deck? Are these, uh,
eggs that are dyed green?
Yeah. Also part of the ritual.
How very Dr. Seussian.
How about your dad?
Did he ever
participate in one
of these ceremonies
when he was in the Navy?
Oh, this is nothing
compared to what
my dad went through
when he was a pollywog.
Yeah? What'd they make him do?
Please don't say "eat raw eggs."
Crew threw him overboard.
Made him swim back
to the ship.
It's okay, though.
Navy doesn't do that anymore.
You sure about that?
The victim's Petty Officer
First Class Kendrick Allston.
He was one
of our cryptologic techs.
How long has he
been on board?
Little more
than four years.
Longer than I've been here.
You know him well?
Better than most.
He was one of the brightest
sailors I'd ever been around.
Would've staked my career on him
making it to admiral one day.
How long until he
was retrieved from the water?
One minute and 56 seconds
from the time he was spotted.
I know that man-overboards
happen at sea,
but nothing like this
has ever occurred
under my command before.
I want answers
just as much as you do.
Gibbs, no one who was
on deck at the time saw
how or when Petty Officer
Allston fell overboard.
Then find the last
person to see him alive.
There's no need
to dance around this
on my account, agents.
You have something
else to add, Commander?
Just that I agree with
what you're probably
already suspecting.
That what happened
to Petty Officer Allston
wasn't an accident.
Why do you say that?
The likelihood
of him drowning...
is slim to none.
Allston was a search
and rescue swimmer.
Even so,
the impact of him
hitting the water
could have knocked him
unconscious.
It was a fall
that he had done dozens of times
in training
and it never affected him.
Something else
must have happened to him.
Boss?
- What do we got?
- Blunt force trauma.
He was definitely struck
in the back of the head.
- By what?
- Well, that's the weird part.
You see these five indentations
around the wound?
They are all
the exact same
depth and diameter.
Get to the weird part.
Well, I've only seen an injury
like this one other place.
It was in a medical
textbook where the victim
was killed by a, uh...
well, he was killed
by a medieval flail.
You know the stick
where chains attach,
got a little spiked ball on it?
- Yeah, yeah. I got it, McGee.
I'd say that definitely
puts this in the weird category.
With Allston's body
headed to NCIS,
what kind of timeline
are we looking at?
Till we get a cause of death,
your ship's in
a holding pattern, Commander.
Mission deadlines aren't
my concern, Agent Gibbs.
It's the safety
of my crew.
If there's a murderer on
board, I want him found.
What can I do
to expedite things?
We'll need access
to the entire ship.
Including Petty Officer
Allston's quarters.
Well, the master-at-arms
sealed off
his rack and footlocker
this morning.
I'll see to the rest.
To be honest,
yes, I am shocked.
Why?
What do you mean, "why"?
Everybody knows
you're terrible with teenagers.
- Really?
- Oh, okay.
Keep me posted.
So what's so shocking?
Oh, Torres says
he's got a handle
on this mentoring thing.
Yeah, that doesn't sound right.
Hey, what do we know?
Well, my sweep of the decks
turned up no sign
of where Allston
was hit in the head
or where he went overboard.
Torres is briefing
Petty Officer Allston's
next of kin.
- Background?
Uh, Kendrick Allston, 24.
Born and raised
in Wheeling, West Virginia.
Graduated top of
his high school class before enlisting.
Not a single blemish
on his record.
He was a rising star,
rose from the rank
of seaman recruit
to first class petty officer
in less than six years.
Practically unheard of.
Must have made a lot of friends.
And at least one enemy.
McGee, you're with me.
Bishop, start
interviewing the crew.
Find out who had
issues with Allston.
Boss, what about Torres?
Oh, he's got his hands full.
Do you plan on doing
any work today
or are you just
pure window dressing?
Don't let my ridiculous
good looks fool you.
I get the job done.
You know what?
You're right. Update time.
Show me what you got.
Yes, sir.
So, per your instructions,
I organized all your
quarterly expense reports
and submitted them to accounting
in addition to preparing
- your tax return for this year.
- Hmm.
Business write-offs?
Taken care of, sir.
Not bad, not bad.
Hales, you're up.
I organized,
collated and archived
all non-classified reports.
Using shortcut tabs
to maximize efficiency.
Whoo! We're on
a roll, baby.
Max, bring us home.
Yo, I said no cell phones.
Happy?
Well, that depends.
What is the status
of my jaywalking appeal?
How should I know?
That was your assignment.
Hmm. Pass.
Pass.
Agents don't get to choose
or pick their assignments.
They do the job they're given.
I'm here to learn.
Not to be your errand boy.
I agree.
Agent Torres.
A word?
Sir?
You mind telling me
what you're doing?
Mentoring, sir.
Today's lesson
is about how an agent
can get stuck with work
they didn't ask for.
Hypothetically speaking,
of course.
Well, unless you wish
to pull weekend duty
for the next
three months,
I would suggest that you start
showing them the ropes
around here.
Great!
So, where to
next, boss?
What about checking out MTAC?
Or the cyber
division?
Ooh! Can we go
into the field with you?
Ooh, yeah, I like that,
let's do that, yeah. Yeah.
That's a good one. Yeah.
Sir?
Give me a minute.
Hey, boss,
look at this locker,
not a single item out of place.
His rack's
inspection-ready.
Bounce a quarter off that sheet.
Allston was one
squared-away sailor.
Who is that?
Girlfriend?
Sister?
I'll find out.
So you were
the first sailor
to spot Allston
in the water?
Yes, ma'am. Although I did not
know it was him at the time.
Any reason you forgot to mention
you were also his bunkmate?
I didn't think
that was important.
Why is it?
When's the last time
you saw him?
Earlier that morning,
before the ceremony.
He was laying in
his rack before watch.
Was he acting
differently?
No, not that
I could tell.
Did he ever confide in you
in any problems he was having?
No, but I wouldn't
expect him to.
He and I weren't
exactly friends.
So who was he friends with?
Allston wasn't close
with anyone.
All he cared about was work.
- What about enemies?
- I doubt it. I mean,
he may have been
a buzzkill at times,
but he was still a good guy.
We all knew that.
The line-crossing ceremony
is really quite fascinating.
Did you know it's a sailing
tradition that dates back
over 400 years?
Fascinating.
You doing okay?
You look exhausted.
I mean, the bags
under your eyes...
Bags? What bags?
What're you talking about?
Ah...
It's those damn kids, man.
They running you
ragged, huh?
I know you're no good
with teenagers.
Why does everybody keep
saying that?
I am a seasoned
law enforcement agent.
Nothing fazes me, son.
Where are your little mentees?
Up in the lab learning military
strategy and combat tactics.
Oh.
- Wait, what?
- Don't overthink it.
What's the
cause of death?
Prepare yourself because
it is rather unexpected.
Petty Officer Allston's
cause of death
was not drowning, nor was it
a blunt force trauma
to the head.
Nick, he died of a
sudden cardiac arrest.
A heart attack? At 24?
Even stranger considering
he has no familial history
of heart issues.
I'm still awaiting the results
of his blood panel,
but...
a massive cardiac episode
could give another explanation
to his head wound.
So he wasn't struck from behind?
Upon closer inspection,
I found that the
wound pattern is not that
of a medieval flail,
but rather bulkhead piping
from a Navy destroyer.
So he was hit
with a piece of the ship?
Possibly, or he accidentally
hit his head and fell overboard.
Nicholas Torres!
- Uh, what's up, Kasie?
- Oh!
I'll tell you what's up.
Kasie, Kasie,
wh-what-what's
that noise?
We can barely hear you.
Torres, my lab now!
She didn't sound
too happy, did she?
No. Good luck, buddy.
Yeah.
Blake, I need you
on backup on this one.
- Huh? No.
- Come on!
Dude.
I don't see how this game
is educational.
It's a team-building experience.
Yeah, so is a trust fall,
and that's quiet.
Yo, yo, I'm here, I'm here.
What's the problem?
I'm sorry, what's
that? Uh-uh...
The blood filling my ears
must be affecting my hearing.
That's the problem.
I have work to do,
and I can't concentrate
with the sounds of D-Day
going on in here.
This is not what
we agreed upon.
Kasie, you have to
help me out.
I got to stash them somewhere
so I can get some work done.
Okay, you know what?
That sounds like a Torres
problem, not a Kasie problem.
You think I don't have
anything better to do, huh?
Than to babysit
annoying
wannabe teenage agents?
Where did he
come from?
Break room.
- Thanks for the cash.
- What cash?
Your snack machine sucks.
Okay, the wallet swipe,
that's my thing.
And you owe me
60 cents.
That should be the result
of Petty Officer Allston's
blood work.
Technically, this is
the second analysis.
The initial results
were so off the charts,
I had to verify
the data.
Oh, boy.
Are the results different?
Uh, unfortunately, no.
Allston had
high levels of amphetamines
and lysergic acid diethylamide
in his system.
His cardiac arrest
was the result
of a drug overdose.
But everything we have
on this guy says
he was as straightlaced
as they come.
Yeah, well, I mean, everybody's
got a skeleton in their closet.
His was a lethal one.
Oh, thank God
you guys are back.
What? What're you doing?
Please don't ever
leave me again like that.
Those kids are
driving me crazy, man.
The mentees?
It takes less energy
to infiltrate a drug cartel.
I pawned them off
on a probie just so
I can have a few hours
of "me time."
How about
"update time"?
Yeah, and that, too.
I contacted
Allston's sister.
She's on her way in.
Where's, uh,
where's Bishop?
Running point on the ship.
What about the drugs
in Allston's system?
According to Kasie,
it's some kind of, uh,
synthetic combination
of hallucinogens and stimulants.
It's called
a Tri-Shot.
Well, at least
that's what the kids
at my school call it.
Mine, too.
Why are you not
with Agent Ventura?
She went to look for Max.
He wandered off again.
Torres, go find him.
You two, keep talking.
I mean, there's not really
much else I can say.
I've never really done
Tri-Shots myself.
Well, you use a dropper
to ingest it.
One or two drops
should do the trick.
Any more than that,
you'll wind up in the ER.
I mean, from
what I've heard.
We're not really
into that kind of stuff.
Yeah, uh, Zico and B.I.
are more my vice.
The hell is that?
Seriously? It's K-hip hop.
What the hell is that?
Tragic.
Hey, there. Can I help you?
No.
Uh, okay.
Uh, let's try this one:
who are you?
- Max.
Oh, sorry, you must be
one of the essay winners.
I'm Agent Jack Sloane.
You're new here, am I right?
Not exactly.
Ah.
You like that?
I, uh, got it in Austria.
What do you think?
You want an honest answer?
Always.
It doesn't fit.
Hmm.
Hey, take one.
Why?
Come on, dude, just humor me.
Aha. Black licorice.
Interesting.
You gonna analyze me now?
I could, or you could just
tell me why you're here.
Essay winners get to shadow
an NCIS agent.
I mean the real reason.
Why are you here, Max?
Yo, my man.
What about "stay put"
don't you get?
I'm not a dog.
I know 'cause dogs listen,
and if you don't,
I'll try a different method.
Nick, is that really necessary?
Jack, teenagers
are like raptors, okay?
They smell fear.
You have to
stay strong.
Come on, move it.
Come on.
Bye, Max.
We're sorry for your loss,
Miss Allston.
So how did this happen?
Your brother overdosed.
That's not possible.
A fatal amount
of a synthetic drug
was found in his system.
You're wrong. I-I would've known
if my brother was doing drugs.
Well, he could've been
keeping it from you.
Opioids decimated our hometown.
Kendrick was determined
to escape that life.
Someone must've set him up.
Why would
they do that?
Being the C.O.'s favorite
made him a target.
You have a name for us?
Andrew Townsley.
He was a sailor
on board the Ewing.
He had been harassing
my brother for weeks.
I should've stepped in
and done something,
but Kendrick said he wanted
to fight his own battles.
Man, it feels so good
to be on the field.
In a few more hours, this
mentoring thing will be over.
It's been two days.
Exactly.
What's this guy's story?
Well, Andrew Townsley,
22 years old.
Discharged six months ago
when he popped positive
for a ship-wide
drug test.
Says here that he was
brought up to captain's mast,
where he punched
his superior.
- This guy's a winner.
- Yep.
There he is. Andrew Townsley?
Who wants to know?
NCIS.
Use context clues, idiots.
Can't you see I'm not
in the Navy anymore?
I'm sure they're reeling
from the loss.
This guy
look familiar?
Yeah, what did the Boy Scout
rat me out for this time?
Hmm? Stealing gum
from the ship's store?
You know what, you tell Allston
if he has a problem with me,
he can say it to my face.
We would... if he wasn't dead.
Dead?
Wow, poor guy.
What a shame.
You really seem
broken up about it.
Why should I be?
Allston had it coming.
Well, that's what
we call a motive.
And you're what
we call a suspect.
I'm sorry,
am I missing something?
Because the USS Ewing is at sea.
So, what did I do, magically
teleport there and back?
That's some real top-notch
investigating there, fellas.
You know, I feel safer
knowing that cops like you
are out there protecting us.
You know, I'll bet
a charming guy such as yourself
still has a few friends
on board that ship.
Yeah. So what?
Well, maybe you had them
dish out a little revenge.
Allston reported your drug use
up the chain of command.
Maybe you were looking
for a little payback.
Hey, I smoked a little pot
during our port visit
to Cartagena.
All right?
It's Colombia.
I could have done
far worse.
But no, Allston just had to
make a big deal out of it.
Well, he should have
kept his mouth shut.
Well, killing him definitely
taught him a lesson.
Get serious, man.
I wasn't the only one on the
crew who couldn't stand the guy.
Who else?
Gee...
My memory's not so good
these days.
You guys want
anything else,
you can call my attorney.
Man, this guy makes me
miss my mentees.
Townsley was trouble
from the day
he stepped on board
two years ago.
Did he have any
other infractions?
Two nonjudicial punishments
for insubordination and assault
prior to his failed
drug test.
Townsley was just itching for
a bad-conduct discharge.
Hold on, Townsley worked
in the same division
as Petty Officer Brown?
That's correct.
Deck department.
Same Brown who was
Allston's bunkmate?
Medical
emergency, crew berthing.
Medical emergency,
crew berthing.
He's not responding
to chest compressions.
I'll get the respirator.
Start bagging him.
Petty Officer Brown.
What happened?
I don't know, ma'am.
He was unresponsive
when I found him.
What is Brown's condition?
Well, the corpsmen were able
to stabilize him,
but he hasn't
regained consciousness.
Doc suspects that it was
another drug overdose.
Huh. Two sailors OD
on the same ship,
in the same day.
That doesn't sound like
a coincidence.
It's a PR nightmare.
SECNAV wants answers,
and so do I.
You find any drugs
on him, Bishop?
No, nothing.
I sent all the contents
from his footlocker to the lab.
All right, stay close.
I want to know
when he wakes up.
Copy that.
Leon.
I know that look.
What's on your mind, Jack?
Something I'm curious about.
Before I transferred to HQ,
who worked in my office?
It had been vacant
for a few years.
Uh-huh. And before that?
Why do you want to know?
Just a hunch...
that that look in your eye
is confirming.
It was Agent Girard, wasn't it?
Let it go, Jack.
That's not really my specialty,
as you know, Leon.
Then I would suggest
that you tread lightly.
- Hmm?
- Mm-hmm.
They say parting is
such sweet sorrow.
Not always.
Bet you can't say
where that line's from.
Here's a hint.
It's not Maxim.
Oh. I'll miss those
witty remarks most of all.
Agent Torres,
would it be possible
to extend shadowing
another day?
I just feel like there's so much
we didn't get to see yet and...
Oh, I know, I know, right?
I know, but those are the rules.
That's all the time we got.
So, yeah.
Well, we really appreciate
you mentoring us
for these past few days.
I feel like I've learned a lot.
Yeah, thanks to you,
we learned how
to get by in life by doing
as little as humanly possible.
It's a gift.
This probie will, uh,
lead you guys out.
Take care.
Thank you so much.
It's been real.
Stay in school.
And please remember,
only you can prevent
forest fires.
Back out now,
while you still can, Tim.
'Cause you ain't ready
for this.
Hey, I was born
ready for this.
Okay? You-you are going
down. You watch.
Wow, we both really need
to work on our trash talk.
- I agree.
- Okay, focus.
Ready, set, go.
Oh, nope. Ugh!
Oh, number one energy drink
in the U.S. my foot.
I like it.
Are you a masochist?
Why would anyone
voluntarily drink this?
Well, sailors live
off this stuff.
Helps 'em stay awake
when they're standing watch.
Oh... I should get
hazard pay. Ugh.
Then why are you
drinking it?
Oh, research. The case
of Day/Night Energy
that was confiscated
from Brown's footlocker
was laced with Tri-Shots.
- Every bottle?
- Yep.
And if energy drinks
are as popular on ships
as you say they are,
I mean, that makes it
the perfect place
to hide contraband.
So, why would Brown
be dumb enough
to overdose on his own supply?
He brought drugs
onto a Navy ship.
I mean, he's already proven
that he's lacking
in the intelligence department.
Unless... he drank it
not knowing
it was laced with Tri-Shots.
If the same thing happened
to Petty Officer Allston,
then that means
they're both victims.
Hmm.
Come on, man.
Petty Officer Brown's background
is clean, Gibbs.
No past drug history.
Same as Allston's.
Somebody brought the drugs
on board.
Where'd they come from?
Well, DEA's records show
that the Tri-Shots
came on the scene
about four months ago,
with instances concentrated
along the Eastern seaboard.
They smuggled in
from South America?
Zero reports of the drug
have been found
in any of the countries
the USS Ewing
has visited in port.
As of now,
it's not international.
It's got to be homegrown.
McGee.
Torres.
Check into every
person of interest
the DEA looked into
for Tri-Shots.
On it.
Wait, what?
Oh, come on.
I got it.
Security says Max never
exited the building.
So, what are you doing here?
You said you got it. Go.
Thought I'd help you out.
I don't need your help.
Go away.
Ah, I can't.
Building security is
looking everywhere for you.
Which means you are
running out of time.
So, go on in.
This is why you
came here, right?
I-I was just, um...
You were just thinking
about the last time
you stood on this spot,
looking through these doors?
Director Vance told you?
I figured it out
on my own.
Let me guess.
You're gonna tell me
that you understand,
that you get me?
I don't want to hear it.
Okay. Then how about
I just tell you the truth?
And what's that, Dr. Phil?
You want to believe that you've
moved on from what happened,
but you're only
lying to yourself.
You won't get closure
unless you let go
of the anger you're
holding onto.
I swore I'd never set foot
in this building again.
Yeah. Then why did you?
Something I had to do.
- Mm.
- Not just for me.
Seeing this place again...
it's like nothing's changed.
Yet, everything has changed.
Coming here was a mistake.
No.
- Hey...
- Unbelievable.
No, wait, Nick.
Unbelievable.
You were supposed
to leave hours ago.
This isn't a day care,
kid. Move it.
- Come on.
- No.
What?
I'm not leaving.
Hey, Torres...
You've been nothing but
a pain in the ass
in the past two days.
You don't listen,
you don't follow orders,
and you show no respect.
A lecture on respect
is the last thing
I need from you.
Well, getting stuck with
a privileged,
ungrateful punk like you
isn't what I need, either.
- Hey, Nick.
Grateful. What should I
be grateful for?
How you acted like mentoring
was beneath you?
How you treated us
like we were a burden?
How...
I know what an agent is.
You're not it.
And what would
you know about it?
A real agent goes the extra mile
to help people.
He puts his life on the line
every day, and makes sacrifices,
which is something you are far
too self-absorbed to comprehend.
Max...
You believe that kid?
Uh, actually, Nick,
I'd say you're the one
acting like a child here.
Me? What did I do?
How about what you didn't do?
Like read your mentees' essays.
Jack, I was busy
working on the case.
Had you tried to
get to know them,
you would know that Max
is the son of Ed Girard,
one of the NCIS agents
that was killed
in the Navy Yard bombing
six years ago.
Max was here visiting
his father that day.
Only one of them
made it out alive.
He came here
searching for closure,
and he was treated
like an inconvenience.
You want me
to choose sides, Nick?
I'm on Max's.
The ship's on alert,
and all bottles
of Day/Night Energy on board
have been confiscated
just in case.
The crew give you anything?
Not much. Barely any of them
have heard of Tri-Shots,
or so they say.
There any change in Brown?
Well, he regained consciousness
a half hour ago.
I'm standing by to question him.
All right, keep me posted,
Bishop.
Hey, Gibbs?
Why didn't you tell me?
Tell you what?
That Max was Agent Girard's son.
Why would I?
Well, because I would've
acted differently.
I would've...
would've done something else.
It shouldn't matter who he was.
That's the point, Torres.
Was this some kind of test?
You're damn right.
What do you want from me?
This is your mess, Nick.
You clean it up.
Hey, I didn't ask for this.
I wasn't cut out
to be a teacher.
You are scared.
I don't get scared.
Stop holding back...
when something is not familiar.
Because you know
everything, right?
A student's failure
is a reflection
of their teacher.
Don't bother apologizing.
I don't need your pity.
Oh, I wasn't gonna apologize.
You do owe me one, though.
Good luck with that.
Are you always this irritating,
or is it just with me?
You're not that special.
All right,
so you don't want an apology.
Then what
do you want?
I used to think that NCIS was
the coolest place ever,
when I was a kid.
I'd come here all the time
to visit my dad at work.
What was he like?
He...
loved helping people.
He always used to say,
"Son, in a world full of
problems, be the solution."
And I guess every son feels
that way about their dad.
Were you in the
building that day?
No.
I was.
The sounds...
...the smells...
No matter how hard I
try and forget that day,
I can't.
Agent Sloane was right.
I am angry.
Why did I get to live
and my dad had to die?
It's been six years
and I still don't understand
why this happened.
That's a question you're never
gonna get an answer to.
I've been waiting 30 years
for one.
That's the last time
I saw my father.
He, uh,
he ran out on my mom, my sister
and me when I was five.
You know,
when you're abandoned, you...
you're left wondering why.
And no answer will ever fix it.
You know, we don't get to choose
what-what happens to us,
but we get to choose
how it shapes us.
Don't, don't let
what happened that day, uh,
overshadow the memories...
memories of your father.
I just miss him.
I know.
But he would want you
to live your life.
You trust me on that?
I'm sorry about earlier.
Me, too.
Hey.
Do you know where you are?
Medical, but I don't know how.
What's the last thing
you remember?
Oh, I wasn't feeling too well,
so I went and laid down
on my rack.
But must have just been
something I ate.
Close. Something you drank.
Energy drinks in your locker
were laced with drugs.
You are lucky
to be alive.
I... I had no idea.
Allston.
That's what killed him?
How do you know that?
He got sent those drinks
in a care package,
and he drank one.
But he hated it.
He said he
was gonna toss it,
but I said
I'd take them instead.
Did he say who sent
the care package?
It was an accident.
You sent your brother
a care package laced with drugs.
It was never meant
to go to him.
I... I accidentally
mixed up the shipments.
The package was meant
for your dealer.
By the time that I'd realized
what I'd done...
it was too late.
You are a Tri-Shot distributor.
One of them.
Did your brother know?
No.
I could never bring myself
to tell him the truth.
I knew how disappointed
he'd be in me.
I loved my brother
more than anything.
I'll never be able to forgive
myself for what I've done.
I want the names of everyone
in your operation.
Good morning.
Hey, welcome back.
How's Petty Officer Brown?
Making a speedy recovery.
Doc said he'll be back to
full duty in just a few days.
Hey.
Would you look at that?
Got your sea legs.
Yeah. And then some.
As a thanks for our
help, Commander Rackham
made me an honorary Shellback.
I've been angling
for one of these for years.
You get all the luck.
Hey, where's Torres?
He took a personal day.
- Yeah. Gibbs.
- Personal day?
I didn't think
we could take those.
Me, neither.
Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?
Grab your gear.
Got a robbery in Quantico.
Mm. Well,
guess there's always tomorrow.
An agent's job
is never done.
All right. Well, that,
ladies and gentlemen,
concludes your first-class tour
of a U.S. Navy
guided missile cruiser.
Ha! You know,
it's bigger than it looks.
A cafeteria, gym
and a barber shop?
It's like a small
floating city.
You know, I still can't believe
we got access
into the Combat
Information Center.
Didn't we need to have
a secret security
clearance for that?
Yeah, so I, uh,
called in a favor for that.
Let that be, uh,
our little secret.
Okay.
Right.
Hey, uh, what made you
change your mind
letting us shadow you for
another day, Agent Torres?
Well, I realized
that I should've given you
a proper NCIS education
instead of tricking you
into running my errands.
Tricking us?
I told you his expense reports
weren't a matter
of national security.
I didn't think you'd
believe me.
But still, it-it was wrong.
And, uh, I just...
I hope this day
out in the field,
uh, somehow made up for it.
Uh, and not to mention
this super legit
NCIS swag,
courtesy of
this guy.
These are pretty nice.
I guess so.
Look at that.
We're off the clock.
Just like that.
You know what that means?
- Happy hour at a bar? Huh?
- No.
No.
Diner and burgers, on me.
I'm in. Shotgun.
You had shotgun on the way here.
Hey, Blake!
Hey, hey, all right.
I call music!
How long do you think
we should wait until
we tell them
it's walking distance?
I say we call them
from the diner.
Okay.
Yeah, that's good.
Hey, you look
pretty good in that.
Something to consider.
I'm not so sure about that.
I'm not my father.
Hey, don't sell
yourself short, kid.
Not on my watch.
Besides, a wise man once said,
"In a world full of problems,
be the solution."
You heard that somewhere?
Yeah, it kind of stuck with me
a little bit.
Come on, probie.
I'm starving.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man
Is that all you got?
Come on! Right now.
Pick up the pace,
you pathetic pollywogs!
You will never be accepted
into the Kingdom of Neptune
at this rate!
Rotate!
Being welcomed
into the mysteries of the deep
is an honor!
It is a privilege
that must be earned.
I thought crossing the equator
was supposed to be fun.
This is worse
than boot camp!
What say you,
esteemed Shellbacks?
Have they proven themselves
worthy?
Nay!
You heard them.
Figure eights!
You got to be kidding me.
Brown! Those who dare defy
the king of Neptune end
up in Davy Jones' Locker.
Man overboard!
Man overboard!
Starboard side!
Report to your
muster stations, now!
♪ NCIS 16x15 ♪
Crossing the Line
Original Air Date on February 26, 2019
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man
Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late.
The MPD, uh, cop
I hooked up with last month
gave me a--
a jaywalking ticket this morning
and, uh, well...
talk about a scorned woman.
Nice.
All right,
that would be a whoops.
Thank you for that illuminating
and highly inappropriate
recap, Agent Torres.
Uh, Director, I, uh...
did not see you standing there.
And by hooked up, I meant, like,
you know, we
get together
and discuss a case.
We know what
hooking up means.
We're 17.
Not seven.
Well, this mentorship is
off to a fantastic start.
Wait, I'm sorry.
Say what?
Mentorship?
Agent Torres, I'd like
for you to meet the winners
of NCIS's essay
outreach contest.
This is Hayley,
Blake and Max.
They'll be shadowing you
for the next two days.
Okay, okay.
That was pretty good.
You find that amusing,
Agent Torres?
Oh, you... you're being serious.
Mm-hmm.
Um...
Director, may I
have a word with you?
Uh, see, Gibbs,
McGee and Bishop,
they're the ones who
volunteered to be a mentor.
Not me. Because, like...
not my thing.
Seeing as they're on a helo
en route to the USS Ewing,
their assignment
now falls to you.
You three are in
very good hands.
And I'm certain that
Agent Torres will
do his very
best to give you
a proper introduction
into life at NCIS.
As if his job depended on it.
Sir.
- You sure you're a real agent?
- Yeah.
Why?
You're wearing
a T-shirt.
A women's small,
from the looks of it.
Don't you own a suit?
Um, outdated much?
Agents are only required
to wear suits
for court or formal proceedings.
Yeah. What she said.
We're looking forward
to this, sir.
Consider us sponges
ready to absorb
all the knowledge
you have to impart on us.
Did you just call me "sir"?
Yes, sir.
Actually, that does have
a nice ring to it. Hmm.
What's first on the agenda,
Agent Torres?
Agenda...
Yeah, okay.
A coffee.
One sugar.
On it.
And for your information,
this is a compression T-shirt.
It increases circulation.
Keep telling yourself that.
Anyone else feel like
they're in the middle
of a Pirates of the Caribbean
movie?
Arr!
You know what?
Loving the costumes.
Yeah, it's part
of the Shellback ceremony.
It's a Navy tradition
when the ship
crosses the equator.
What's this stuff all over
the deck? Are these, uh,
eggs that are dyed green?
Yeah. Also part of the ritual.
How very Dr. Seussian.
How about your dad?
Did he ever
participate in one
of these ceremonies
when he was in the Navy?
Oh, this is nothing
compared to what
my dad went through
when he was a pollywog.
Yeah? What'd they make him do?
Please don't say "eat raw eggs."
Crew threw him overboard.
Made him swim back
to the ship.
It's okay, though.
Navy doesn't do that anymore.
You sure about that?
The victim's Petty Officer
First Class Kendrick Allston.
He was one
of our cryptologic techs.
How long has he
been on board?
Little more
than four years.
Longer than I've been here.
You know him well?
Better than most.
He was one of the brightest
sailors I'd ever been around.
Would've staked my career on him
making it to admiral one day.
How long until he
was retrieved from the water?
One minute and 56 seconds
from the time he was spotted.
I know that man-overboards
happen at sea,
but nothing like this
has ever occurred
under my command before.
I want answers
just as much as you do.
Gibbs, no one who was
on deck at the time saw
how or when Petty Officer
Allston fell overboard.
Then find the last
person to see him alive.
There's no need
to dance around this
on my account, agents.
You have something
else to add, Commander?
Just that I agree with
what you're probably
already suspecting.
That what happened
to Petty Officer Allston
wasn't an accident.
Why do you say that?
The likelihood
of him drowning...
is slim to none.
Allston was a search
and rescue swimmer.
Even so,
the impact of him
hitting the water
could have knocked him
unconscious.
It was a fall
that he had done dozens of times
in training
and it never affected him.
Something else
must have happened to him.
Boss?
- What do we got?
- Blunt force trauma.
He was definitely struck
in the back of the head.
- By what?
- Well, that's the weird part.
You see these five indentations
around the wound?
They are all
the exact same
depth and diameter.
Get to the weird part.
Well, I've only seen an injury
like this one other place.
It was in a medical
textbook where the victim
was killed by a, uh...
well, he was killed
by a medieval flail.
You know the stick
where chains attach,
got a little spiked ball on it?
- Yeah, yeah. I got it, McGee.
I'd say that definitely
puts this in the weird category.
With Allston's body
headed to NCIS,
what kind of timeline
are we looking at?
Till we get a cause of death,
your ship's in
a holding pattern, Commander.
Mission deadlines aren't
my concern, Agent Gibbs.
It's the safety
of my crew.
If there's a murderer on
board, I want him found.
What can I do
to expedite things?
We'll need access
to the entire ship.
Including Petty Officer
Allston's quarters.
Well, the master-at-arms
sealed off
his rack and footlocker
this morning.
I'll see to the rest.
To be honest,
yes, I am shocked.
Why?
What do you mean, "why"?
Everybody knows
you're terrible with teenagers.
- Really?
- Oh, okay.
Keep me posted.
So what's so shocking?
Oh, Torres says
he's got a handle
on this mentoring thing.
Yeah, that doesn't sound right.
Hey, what do we know?
Well, my sweep of the decks
turned up no sign
of where Allston
was hit in the head
or where he went overboard.
Torres is briefing
Petty Officer Allston's
next of kin.
- Background?
Uh, Kendrick Allston, 24.
Born and raised
in Wheeling, West Virginia.
Graduated top of
his high school class before enlisting.
Not a single blemish
on his record.
He was a rising star,
rose from the rank
of seaman recruit
to first class petty officer
in less than six years.
Practically unheard of.
Must have made a lot of friends.
And at least one enemy.
McGee, you're with me.
Bishop, start
interviewing the crew.
Find out who had
issues with Allston.
Boss, what about Torres?
Oh, he's got his hands full.
Do you plan on doing
any work today
or are you just
pure window dressing?
Don't let my ridiculous
good looks fool you.
I get the job done.
You know what?
You're right. Update time.
Show me what you got.
Yes, sir.
So, per your instructions,
I organized all your
quarterly expense reports
and submitted them to accounting
in addition to preparing
- your tax return for this year.
- Hmm.
Business write-offs?
Taken care of, sir.
Not bad, not bad.
Hales, you're up.
I organized,
collated and archived
all non-classified reports.
Using shortcut tabs
to maximize efficiency.
Whoo! We're on
a roll, baby.
Max, bring us home.
Yo, I said no cell phones.
Happy?
Well, that depends.
What is the status
of my jaywalking appeal?
How should I know?
That was your assignment.
Hmm. Pass.
Pass.
Agents don't get to choose
or pick their assignments.
They do the job they're given.
I'm here to learn.
Not to be your errand boy.
I agree.
Agent Torres.
A word?
Sir?
You mind telling me
what you're doing?
Mentoring, sir.
Today's lesson
is about how an agent
can get stuck with work
they didn't ask for.
Hypothetically speaking,
of course.
Well, unless you wish
to pull weekend duty
for the next
three months,
I would suggest that you start
showing them the ropes
around here.
Great!
So, where to
next, boss?
What about checking out MTAC?
Or the cyber
division?
Ooh! Can we go
into the field with you?
Ooh, yeah, I like that,
let's do that, yeah. Yeah.
That's a good one. Yeah.
Sir?
Give me a minute.
Hey, boss,
look at this locker,
not a single item out of place.
His rack's
inspection-ready.
Bounce a quarter off that sheet.
Allston was one
squared-away sailor.
Who is that?
Girlfriend?
Sister?
I'll find out.
So you were
the first sailor
to spot Allston
in the water?
Yes, ma'am. Although I did not
know it was him at the time.
Any reason you forgot to mention
you were also his bunkmate?
I didn't think
that was important.
Why is it?
When's the last time
you saw him?
Earlier that morning,
before the ceremony.
He was laying in
his rack before watch.
Was he acting
differently?
No, not that
I could tell.
Did he ever confide in you
in any problems he was having?
No, but I wouldn't
expect him to.
He and I weren't
exactly friends.
So who was he friends with?
Allston wasn't close
with anyone.
All he cared about was work.
- What about enemies?
- I doubt it. I mean,
he may have been
a buzzkill at times,
but he was still a good guy.
We all knew that.
The line-crossing ceremony
is really quite fascinating.
Did you know it's a sailing
tradition that dates back
over 400 years?
Fascinating.
You doing okay?
You look exhausted.
I mean, the bags
under your eyes...
Bags? What bags?
What're you talking about?
Ah...
It's those damn kids, man.
They running you
ragged, huh?
I know you're no good
with teenagers.
Why does everybody keep
saying that?
I am a seasoned
law enforcement agent.
Nothing fazes me, son.
Where are your little mentees?
Up in the lab learning military
strategy and combat tactics.
Oh.
- Wait, what?
- Don't overthink it.
What's the
cause of death?
Prepare yourself because
it is rather unexpected.
Petty Officer Allston's
cause of death
was not drowning, nor was it
a blunt force trauma
to the head.
Nick, he died of a
sudden cardiac arrest.
A heart attack? At 24?
Even stranger considering
he has no familial history
of heart issues.
I'm still awaiting the results
of his blood panel,
but...
a massive cardiac episode
could give another explanation
to his head wound.
So he wasn't struck from behind?
Upon closer inspection,
I found that the
wound pattern is not that
of a medieval flail,
but rather bulkhead piping
from a Navy destroyer.
So he was hit
with a piece of the ship?
Possibly, or he accidentally
hit his head and fell overboard.
Nicholas Torres!
- Uh, what's up, Kasie?
- Oh!
I'll tell you what's up.
Kasie, Kasie,
wh-what-what's
that noise?
We can barely hear you.
Torres, my lab now!
She didn't sound
too happy, did she?
No. Good luck, buddy.
Yeah.
Blake, I need you
on backup on this one.
- Huh? No.
- Come on!
Dude.
I don't see how this game
is educational.
It's a team-building experience.
Yeah, so is a trust fall,
and that's quiet.
Yo, yo, I'm here, I'm here.
What's the problem?
I'm sorry, what's
that? Uh-uh...
The blood filling my ears
must be affecting my hearing.
That's the problem.
I have work to do,
and I can't concentrate
with the sounds of D-Day
going on in here.
This is not what
we agreed upon.
Kasie, you have to
help me out.
I got to stash them somewhere
so I can get some work done.
Okay, you know what?
That sounds like a Torres
problem, not a Kasie problem.
You think I don't have
anything better to do, huh?
Than to babysit
annoying
wannabe teenage agents?
Where did he
come from?
Break room.
- Thanks for the cash.
- What cash?
Your snack machine sucks.
Okay, the wallet swipe,
that's my thing.
And you owe me
60 cents.
That should be the result
of Petty Officer Allston's
blood work.
Technically, this is
the second analysis.
The initial results
were so off the charts,
I had to verify
the data.
Oh, boy.
Are the results different?
Uh, unfortunately, no.
Allston had
high levels of amphetamines
and lysergic acid diethylamide
in his system.
His cardiac arrest
was the result
of a drug overdose.
But everything we have
on this guy says
he was as straightlaced
as they come.
Yeah, well, I mean, everybody's
got a skeleton in their closet.
His was a lethal one.
Oh, thank God
you guys are back.
What? What're you doing?
Please don't ever
leave me again like that.
Those kids are
driving me crazy, man.
The mentees?
It takes less energy
to infiltrate a drug cartel.
I pawned them off
on a probie just so
I can have a few hours
of "me time."
How about
"update time"?
Yeah, and that, too.
I contacted
Allston's sister.
She's on her way in.
Where's, uh,
where's Bishop?
Running point on the ship.
What about the drugs
in Allston's system?
According to Kasie,
it's some kind of, uh,
synthetic combination
of hallucinogens and stimulants.
It's called
a Tri-Shot.
Well, at least
that's what the kids
at my school call it.
Mine, too.
Why are you not
with Agent Ventura?
She went to look for Max.
He wandered off again.
Torres, go find him.
You two, keep talking.
I mean, there's not really
much else I can say.
I've never really done
Tri-Shots myself.
Well, you use a dropper
to ingest it.
One or two drops
should do the trick.
Any more than that,
you'll wind up in the ER.
I mean, from
what I've heard.
We're not really
into that kind of stuff.
Yeah, uh, Zico and B.I.
are more my vice.
The hell is that?
Seriously? It's K-hip hop.
What the hell is that?
Tragic.
Hey, there. Can I help you?
No.
Uh, okay.
Uh, let's try this one:
who are you?
- Max.
Oh, sorry, you must be
one of the essay winners.
I'm Agent Jack Sloane.
You're new here, am I right?
Not exactly.
Ah.
You like that?
I, uh, got it in Austria.
What do you think?
You want an honest answer?
Always.
It doesn't fit.
Hmm.
Hey, take one.
Why?
Come on, dude, just humor me.
Aha. Black licorice.
Interesting.
You gonna analyze me now?
I could, or you could just
tell me why you're here.
Essay winners get to shadow
an NCIS agent.
I mean the real reason.
Why are you here, Max?
Yo, my man.
What about "stay put"
don't you get?
I'm not a dog.
I know 'cause dogs listen,
and if you don't,
I'll try a different method.
Nick, is that really necessary?
Jack, teenagers
are like raptors, okay?
They smell fear.
You have to
stay strong.
Come on, move it.
Come on.
Bye, Max.
We're sorry for your loss,
Miss Allston.
So how did this happen?
Your brother overdosed.
That's not possible.
A fatal amount
of a synthetic drug
was found in his system.
You're wrong. I-I would've known
if my brother was doing drugs.
Well, he could've been
keeping it from you.
Opioids decimated our hometown.
Kendrick was determined
to escape that life.
Someone must've set him up.
Why would
they do that?
Being the C.O.'s favorite
made him a target.
You have a name for us?
Andrew Townsley.
He was a sailor
on board the Ewing.
He had been harassing
my brother for weeks.
I should've stepped in
and done something,
but Kendrick said he wanted
to fight his own battles.
Man, it feels so good
to be on the field.
In a few more hours, this
mentoring thing will be over.
It's been two days.
Exactly.
What's this guy's story?
Well, Andrew Townsley,
22 years old.
Discharged six months ago
when he popped positive
for a ship-wide
drug test.
Says here that he was
brought up to captain's mast,
where he punched
his superior.
- This guy's a winner.
- Yep.
There he is. Andrew Townsley?
Who wants to know?
NCIS.
Use context clues, idiots.
Can't you see I'm not
in the Navy anymore?
I'm sure they're reeling
from the loss.
This guy
look familiar?
Yeah, what did the Boy Scout
rat me out for this time?
Hmm? Stealing gum
from the ship's store?
You know what, you tell Allston
if he has a problem with me,
he can say it to my face.
We would... if he wasn't dead.
Dead?
Wow, poor guy.
What a shame.
You really seem
broken up about it.
Why should I be?
Allston had it coming.
Well, that's what
we call a motive.
And you're what
we call a suspect.
I'm sorry,
am I missing something?
Because the USS Ewing is at sea.
So, what did I do, magically
teleport there and back?
That's some real top-notch
investigating there, fellas.
You know, I feel safer
knowing that cops like you
are out there protecting us.
You know, I'll bet
a charming guy such as yourself
still has a few friends
on board that ship.
Yeah. So what?
Well, maybe you had them
dish out a little revenge.
Allston reported your drug use
up the chain of command.
Maybe you were looking
for a little payback.
Hey, I smoked a little pot
during our port visit
to Cartagena.
All right?
It's Colombia.
I could have done
far worse.
But no, Allston just had to
make a big deal out of it.
Well, he should have
kept his mouth shut.
Well, killing him definitely
taught him a lesson.
Get serious, man.
I wasn't the only one on the
crew who couldn't stand the guy.
Who else?
Gee...
My memory's not so good
these days.
You guys want
anything else,
you can call my attorney.
Man, this guy makes me
miss my mentees.
Townsley was trouble
from the day
he stepped on board
two years ago.
Did he have any
other infractions?
Two nonjudicial punishments
for insubordination and assault
prior to his failed
drug test.
Townsley was just itching for
a bad-conduct discharge.
Hold on, Townsley worked
in the same division
as Petty Officer Brown?
That's correct.
Deck department.
Same Brown who was
Allston's bunkmate?
Medical
emergency, crew berthing.
Medical emergency,
crew berthing.
He's not responding
to chest compressions.
I'll get the respirator.
Start bagging him.
Petty Officer Brown.
What happened?
I don't know, ma'am.
He was unresponsive
when I found him.
What is Brown's condition?
Well, the corpsmen were able
to stabilize him,
but he hasn't
regained consciousness.
Doc suspects that it was
another drug overdose.
Huh. Two sailors OD
on the same ship,
in the same day.
That doesn't sound like
a coincidence.
It's a PR nightmare.
SECNAV wants answers,
and so do I.
You find any drugs
on him, Bishop?
No, nothing.
I sent all the contents
from his footlocker to the lab.
All right, stay close.
I want to know
when he wakes up.
Copy that.
Leon.
I know that look.
What's on your mind, Jack?
Something I'm curious about.
Before I transferred to HQ,
who worked in my office?
It had been vacant
for a few years.
Uh-huh. And before that?
Why do you want to know?
Just a hunch...
that that look in your eye
is confirming.
It was Agent Girard, wasn't it?
Let it go, Jack.
That's not really my specialty,
as you know, Leon.
Then I would suggest
that you tread lightly.
- Hmm?
- Mm-hmm.
They say parting is
such sweet sorrow.
Not always.
Bet you can't say
where that line's from.
Here's a hint.
It's not Maxim.
Oh. I'll miss those
witty remarks most of all.
Agent Torres,
would it be possible
to extend shadowing
another day?
I just feel like there's so much
we didn't get to see yet and...
Oh, I know, I know, right?
I know, but those are the rules.
That's all the time we got.
So, yeah.
Well, we really appreciate
you mentoring us
for these past few days.
I feel like I've learned a lot.
Yeah, thanks to you,
we learned how
to get by in life by doing
as little as humanly possible.
It's a gift.
This probie will, uh,
lead you guys out.
Take care.
Thank you so much.
It's been real.
Stay in school.
And please remember,
only you can prevent
forest fires.
Back out now,
while you still can, Tim.
'Cause you ain't ready
for this.
Hey, I was born
ready for this.
Okay? You-you are going
down. You watch.
Wow, we both really need
to work on our trash talk.
- I agree.
- Okay, focus.
Ready, set, go.
Oh, nope. Ugh!
Oh, number one energy drink
in the U.S. my foot.
I like it.
Are you a masochist?
Why would anyone
voluntarily drink this?
Well, sailors live
off this stuff.
Helps 'em stay awake
when they're standing watch.
Oh... I should get
hazard pay. Ugh.
Then why are you
drinking it?
Oh, research. The case
of Day/Night Energy
that was confiscated
from Brown's footlocker
was laced with Tri-Shots.
- Every bottle?
- Yep.
And if energy drinks
are as popular on ships
as you say they are,
I mean, that makes it
the perfect place
to hide contraband.
So, why would Brown
be dumb enough
to overdose on his own supply?
He brought drugs
onto a Navy ship.
I mean, he's already proven
that he's lacking
in the intelligence department.
Unless... he drank it
not knowing
it was laced with Tri-Shots.
If the same thing happened
to Petty Officer Allston,
then that means
they're both victims.
Hmm.
Come on, man.
Petty Officer Brown's background
is clean, Gibbs.
No past drug history.
Same as Allston's.
Somebody brought the drugs
on board.
Where'd they come from?
Well, DEA's records show
that the Tri-Shots
came on the scene
about four months ago,
with instances concentrated
along the Eastern seaboard.
They smuggled in
from South America?
Zero reports of the drug
have been found
in any of the countries
the USS Ewing
has visited in port.
As of now,
it's not international.
It's got to be homegrown.
McGee.
Torres.
Check into every
person of interest
the DEA looked into
for Tri-Shots.
On it.
Wait, what?
Oh, come on.
I got it.
Security says Max never
exited the building.
So, what are you doing here?
You said you got it. Go.
Thought I'd help you out.
I don't need your help.
Go away.
Ah, I can't.
Building security is
looking everywhere for you.
Which means you are
running out of time.
So, go on in.
This is why you
came here, right?
I-I was just, um...
You were just thinking
about the last time
you stood on this spot,
looking through these doors?
Director Vance told you?
I figured it out
on my own.
Let me guess.
You're gonna tell me
that you understand,
that you get me?
I don't want to hear it.
Okay. Then how about
I just tell you the truth?
And what's that, Dr. Phil?
You want to believe that you've
moved on from what happened,
but you're only
lying to yourself.
You won't get closure
unless you let go
of the anger you're
holding onto.
I swore I'd never set foot
in this building again.
Yeah. Then why did you?
Something I had to do.
- Mm.
- Not just for me.
Seeing this place again...
it's like nothing's changed.
Yet, everything has changed.
Coming here was a mistake.
No.
- Hey...
- Unbelievable.
No, wait, Nick.
Unbelievable.
You were supposed
to leave hours ago.
This isn't a day care,
kid. Move it.
- Come on.
- No.
What?
I'm not leaving.
Hey, Torres...
You've been nothing but
a pain in the ass
in the past two days.
You don't listen,
you don't follow orders,
and you show no respect.
A lecture on respect
is the last thing
I need from you.
Well, getting stuck with
a privileged,
ungrateful punk like you
isn't what I need, either.
- Hey, Nick.
Grateful. What should I
be grateful for?
How you acted like mentoring
was beneath you?
How you treated us
like we were a burden?
How...
I know what an agent is.
You're not it.
And what would
you know about it?
A real agent goes the extra mile
to help people.
He puts his life on the line
every day, and makes sacrifices,
which is something you are far
too self-absorbed to comprehend.
Max...
You believe that kid?
Uh, actually, Nick,
I'd say you're the one
acting like a child here.
Me? What did I do?
How about what you didn't do?
Like read your mentees' essays.
Jack, I was busy
working on the case.
Had you tried to
get to know them,
you would know that Max
is the son of Ed Girard,
one of the NCIS agents
that was killed
in the Navy Yard bombing
six years ago.
Max was here visiting
his father that day.
Only one of them
made it out alive.
He came here
searching for closure,
and he was treated
like an inconvenience.
You want me
to choose sides, Nick?
I'm on Max's.
The ship's on alert,
and all bottles
of Day/Night Energy on board
have been confiscated
just in case.
The crew give you anything?
Not much. Barely any of them
have heard of Tri-Shots,
or so they say.
There any change in Brown?
Well, he regained consciousness
a half hour ago.
I'm standing by to question him.
All right, keep me posted,
Bishop.
Hey, Gibbs?
Why didn't you tell me?
Tell you what?
That Max was Agent Girard's son.
Why would I?
Well, because I would've
acted differently.
I would've...
would've done something else.
It shouldn't matter who he was.
That's the point, Torres.
Was this some kind of test?
You're damn right.
What do you want from me?
This is your mess, Nick.
You clean it up.
Hey, I didn't ask for this.
I wasn't cut out
to be a teacher.
You are scared.
I don't get scared.
Stop holding back...
when something is not familiar.
Because you know
everything, right?
A student's failure
is a reflection
of their teacher.
Don't bother apologizing.
I don't need your pity.
Oh, I wasn't gonna apologize.
You do owe me one, though.
Good luck with that.
Are you always this irritating,
or is it just with me?
You're not that special.
All right,
so you don't want an apology.
Then what
do you want?
I used to think that NCIS was
the coolest place ever,
when I was a kid.
I'd come here all the time
to visit my dad at work.
What was he like?
He...
loved helping people.
He always used to say,
"Son, in a world full of
problems, be the solution."
And I guess every son feels
that way about their dad.
Were you in the
building that day?
No.
I was.
The sounds...
...the smells...
No matter how hard I
try and forget that day,
I can't.
Agent Sloane was right.
I am angry.
Why did I get to live
and my dad had to die?
It's been six years
and I still don't understand
why this happened.
That's a question you're never
gonna get an answer to.
I've been waiting 30 years
for one.
That's the last time
I saw my father.
He, uh,
he ran out on my mom, my sister
and me when I was five.
You know,
when you're abandoned, you...
you're left wondering why.
And no answer will ever fix it.
You know, we don't get to choose
what-what happens to us,
but we get to choose
how it shapes us.
Don't, don't let
what happened that day, uh,
overshadow the memories...
memories of your father.
I just miss him.
I know.
But he would want you
to live your life.
You trust me on that?
I'm sorry about earlier.
Me, too.
Hey.
Do you know where you are?
Medical, but I don't know how.
What's the last thing
you remember?
Oh, I wasn't feeling too well,
so I went and laid down
on my rack.
But must have just been
something I ate.
Close. Something you drank.
Energy drinks in your locker
were laced with drugs.
You are lucky
to be alive.
I... I had no idea.
Allston.
That's what killed him?
How do you know that?
He got sent those drinks
in a care package,
and he drank one.
But he hated it.
He said he
was gonna toss it,
but I said
I'd take them instead.
Did he say who sent
the care package?
It was an accident.
You sent your brother
a care package laced with drugs.
It was never meant
to go to him.
I... I accidentally
mixed up the shipments.
The package was meant
for your dealer.
By the time that I'd realized
what I'd done...
it was too late.
You are a Tri-Shot distributor.
One of them.
Did your brother know?
No.
I could never bring myself
to tell him the truth.
I knew how disappointed
he'd be in me.
I loved my brother
more than anything.
I'll never be able to forgive
myself for what I've done.
I want the names of everyone
in your operation.
Good morning.
Hey, welcome back.
How's Petty Officer Brown?
Making a speedy recovery.
Doc said he'll be back to
full duty in just a few days.
Hey.
Would you look at that?
Got your sea legs.
Yeah. And then some.
As a thanks for our
help, Commander Rackham
made me an honorary Shellback.
I've been angling
for one of these for years.
You get all the luck.
Hey, where's Torres?
He took a personal day.
- Yeah. Gibbs.
- Personal day?
I didn't think
we could take those.
Me, neither.
Are you thinking
what I'm thinking?
Grab your gear.
Got a robbery in Quantico.
Mm. Well,
guess there's always tomorrow.
An agent's job
is never done.
All right. Well, that,
ladies and gentlemen,
concludes your first-class tour
of a U.S. Navy
guided missile cruiser.
Ha! You know,
it's bigger than it looks.
A cafeteria, gym
and a barber shop?
It's like a small
floating city.
You know, I still can't believe
we got access
into the Combat
Information Center.
Didn't we need to have
a secret security
clearance for that?
Yeah, so I, uh,
called in a favor for that.
Let that be, uh,
our little secret.
Okay.
Right.
Hey, uh, what made you
change your mind
letting us shadow you for
another day, Agent Torres?
Well, I realized
that I should've given you
a proper NCIS education
instead of tricking you
into running my errands.
Tricking us?
I told you his expense reports
weren't a matter
of national security.
I didn't think you'd
believe me.
But still, it-it was wrong.
And, uh, I just...
I hope this day
out in the field,
uh, somehow made up for it.
Uh, and not to mention
this super legit
NCIS swag,
courtesy of
this guy.
These are pretty nice.
I guess so.
Look at that.
We're off the clock.
Just like that.
You know what that means?
- Happy hour at a bar? Huh?
- No.
No.
Diner and burgers, on me.
I'm in. Shotgun.
You had shotgun on the way here.
Hey, Blake!
Hey, hey, all right.
I call music!
How long do you think
we should wait until
we tell them
it's walking distance?
I say we call them
from the diner.
Okay.
Yeah, that's good.
Hey, you look
pretty good in that.
Something to consider.
I'm not so sure about that.
I'm not my father.
Hey, don't sell
yourself short, kid.
Not on my watch.
Besides, a wise man once said,
"In a world full of problems,
be the solution."
You heard that somewhere?
Yeah, it kind of stuck with me
a little bit.
Come on, probie.
I'm starving.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man