NCIS (2003–…): Season 16, Episode 16 - Bears and Cubs - full transcript
Is that a menacing lion
I see over there?
Or maybe just
an angry squirrel.
Okay, got it.
Your boyfriend's
a big chicken.
Hilarious.
Oh, no.
Are there chickens
out here, too?
It's snakes I'm
worried about, okay?
Not lions, not tigers...
Snakes in the middle
of winter?
Why not? They're
cold-blooded.
Which is why they're dormant:
not enough sun
to warm them up.
This is ninth grade
earth science, babe.
- I guess I slept through that...
- Oh, my God!
Nice try.
Whoa.
What the hell?
Joe, get up!
♪ NCIS 16x16 ♪
Bears and Cubs
Original Air Date on March 12, 2019
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man
I swear, McGee, your case
summaries read like a good book.
Thank you.
I try and do more than
"just the facts, ma'am."
This one is
a real page-turner.
It's got mood,
intrigue, emotion.
And that typo.
That or you flat-out
misspelled the word.
Either way, I caught it.
And what word is that?
"Weather."
As in:
"Our agents did their best
to whether the storm."
I see it.
You spelled it W-H,
"whether or not."
When in fact
it should be
W-E, as in, like:
"How's the weather?"
Or as in: "I doubt whether
anyone would care either way."
I care. I'm not
just anyone.
There is
a third spelling.
W-E-T-H,
like in "bellwether,"
which means a castrated ram.
And why would anyone say:
"We'll castrated ram the storm"?
Uh, just pointing out the
nuances of the English language.
I've got some nuance for you.
Grab your gear.
Dead petty officer,
Great Falls Park.
What is a bellwether?
Well, a "wether" is
a ram that leads
a flock of sheep
with a bell around its neck.
It's a bellwether.
- Ah, got it.
- Okay, cool.
Don't even ask, boss.
Victim is Petty Officer
Third Class Logan Braddish,
currently listed as U.A.
from his base in Norfolk.
What was he doing
way out here?
And what tore him
up like that?
Give me a guess,
Palmer.
There's a lot
of little postmortem bites
from much smaller animals,
but his throat and abdomen
were clearly ripped up
by something much larger.
Well, park rangers have
had black bear sightings
- over the past few years.
- Except black bears
aren't known to attack people.
Could have been wolves.
Or coyotes.
In these woods?
- Mm.
- No way.
Oh, got something here.
- Bishop.
- Hmm?
Oh.
That's a claw.
Sure is.
Uh, could I have
an evidence bag, please?
That could have been
a bear after all.
- Could be.
- Maybe he
accidentally snuck up
on a mother and her cubs?
Only one way to find out.
Spread out,
start looking.
Paw prints, bear scat,
blood trail. Go.
And by "scat" you mean...?
Does a bear scat in the woods?
Ah. Yeah, that's
what I thought you meant.
He was just a baby-faced kid.
Ah. Guess I can add this
to the list.
Yeah? What list?
Of the most horrible deaths
since I started here.
This ranks somewhere
between pummeled
with a war stick
and boiled in a hot tub.
You know,
technically, our hot tub guy was
stabbed before he was boiled.
Yeah, that makes it
so much less horrible.
Anyway, please tell me
this is your first bear attack.
It is. If that's
what this is.
You have this claw
and those wounds.
What more do you need?
I need whatever
you can find here.
You got it.
Quick as I can.
- Hi.
- Hey.
There's my favorite
son-in-law.
What?
Oh.
Ed. Hey.
You're busy.
No. I, uh...
I-I mean, yes, yes.
But I...
Is everything okay?
Everyone's super-duper.
I was just in the neighborhood,
thought I'd surprise you.
Thank you, Agent Supliski.
I've got him.
And actually...
...I thought
I'd grab you for lunch.
Oh, gosh.
I-I would love that.
Are you sure
there's nothing wrong?
Given your reaction,
it must be obvious
that we don't do this
nearly enough.
Or ever.
Uh, actually, you know what, Ed,
I-I might have to take
a rain check for today.
I've just started
a rather peculiar case.
Forget peculiar.
We don't get many like
this at the funeral home.
I'd be worried if you did.
Wow. Mind if I ask
what happened?
Bear attack is
the working theory so far.
A bear? How crazy is that?
Maybe a little too crazy, Ed.
There's a lot
of claw marks here,
but as you can see,
none of them are too deep.
Yeah, I-I think a bear
would pack more of a wallop.
Well, they look
plenty deep to me.
I could see a grizzly bear
out west,
or maybe a polar bear
up north, but...
I mean, a black bear attack?
Why not? I hear
about attacks all the time,
and, you know,
black bears, brown bears,
they all have teeth and claws,
right?
Wait a minute.
How did I miss that?
Miss what?
What is it?
It looks like a knife wound
under this claw mark.
Yeah. Yeah,
that's about an inch wide.
Partially obscured
by this...
torn dermis here.
You see that, Ed?
You...
Ed? What's wrong?
This was a bear.
What?
Say it was a bear. Please.
Ed, wh-what are you...
I promise you, Jimmy,
it's a matter
of life and death.
Call it a bear attack.
For me.
What do you got, Palmer?
Oh. Agent Gibbs.
Well, you know what?
It's Ed Slater.
I'm Jimmy's father-in-law
and Breena's dad.
It's been a few years.
I'm glad you're well.
Undertaker.
You remember. See?
Yeah, that's right.
Although I prefer
"postmortem coordinator."
Palmer.
You need an update?
Still a bear?
Um... yeah.
I-It's...
it's still a bear.
Keep me posted.
Good to see you
again, Gibbs.
What have I done?
Can't believe
I just lied to Gibbs.
And for what?
Pancakes.
You ever have pancakes
for lunch?
What do you say?
Tell me why, Ed,
why, after years of
earning that man's trust,
did I just lie to his
face because of you.
What is so life-and-death?
I hate to admit,
but I've been gambling.
And, well, I thought it was just
a weekly friendly poker game
with the other local merchants.
Gambling is not
life-and-death, Ed.
But $50K is.
That's what I get
for going all in
on four kings, not knowing
the dry cleaner had four aces.
You lost $50,000
to a dry cleaner?
Peter hosts the game.
Nice guy, or at least he was
until I went to work out
a payment plan.
Suddenly he had
a favor to ask
that would erase
all my debts entirely.
- A favor?
- He brought the kid's dead body
to my embalming studio
and told me to make it look
like an accident.
Okay, who wants coffee?
Not just yet.
Actually...
I'd love a cup.
- Ed.
- Huh?
Not just yet.
Okay.
Did the dry cleaner
tell you what happened?
No, and I didn't ask.
I saw the knife wound
and that he was Navy,
so I figured
eventually he'd end up
on your autopsy table, so...
So you thought you'd
just fake a bear attack.
That's why I worked so hard
to make it look real
so that'd make your job easier.
Wh-What,
to help you cover up a murder?
That's not exactly what we did.
That is exactly what...
That is exactly
what you did, not we.
Unless...
What about Stevie?
Is he still helping you out
at the funeral home?
Sure, yeah,
but Stevie's out of town.
He doesn't know
anything about it.
Of course. Your
own son stays clean
while your son-in-law gets
dragged through the mud.
I swear I'll make it up to you.
Don't. Just...
I don't...
Tell me who else
plays in this game.
It's me and Peter Liu--
he's the dry cleaner--
Janice, the Froyo lady,
Dimitri, who owns a barbershop,
old man DiNozzo,
Lenny the bartender,
and...
Stop.
Did you just say
"old man DiNozzo"?
Anthony. Yeah.
He's retired,
but a real old-school raconteur.
- He knows terrific stories.
- Okay,
w-was he there
the night that you lost?
Yeah. Why? Do you know him?
You bet I do.
I'm gonna reach out
and see if he can help.
Uh...
what do you want me to do?
Uh, you just... order
your coffee and pancakes
and... I don't know,
try not to cover up any more
murders till I get back, huh?
Sarcasm doesn't help.
"Derived from the Greek word
'skat' with a 'K,'
meaning 'excrement
of an animal'."
Yeah. Wild animals, maybe.
Cows have manure,
cow pats, meadow muffins...
Bird droppings,
bat guano...
Wait, did you say
"meadow muffins"?
Cut the crap.
You find any?
No, boss,
no, uh, scat at the scene.
No paw prints, either.
Then what do we have?
Petty Officer
Third Class Logan Braddish, 22.
Served three years,
stationed out of Norfolk,
where he never reported back
this past Sunday
after weekend liberty.
Navy pals claimed that
he left their group
Friday night to check out this
trendy nightclub in Georgetown,
and that was the last
they saw of him.
- Any family in the area?
- No. He was from Vermont.
His family has been notified.
His dad is on his way down.
McGee, Bishop, check out
the nightclub. Torres,
call the rangers again, find out
if they have any bear sightings.
Scat.
Call me back as soon
as you can, Mr. DiNozzo.
It's urgent.
Thank you.
Hey there.
You finished already?
Yes. And...
look who's back.
I... Oh, of course.
Dr. Mallard!
Good to see you,
too, Dr. Palmer.
You aren't due back
for several weeks.
Yes. But this weekend,
I have a table at the...
Marine Corps Scholarship
Foundation Ball.
So...
back I am.
And we're so glad you are.
Yes. Definitely glad.
And I discovered he was back
because I have some weird news.
- Weird?
- Those samples you gave me?
They contain not one trace
of bear saliva.
Bear saliva.
This must be the petty
officer in question.
That-that is weird, Kasie.
L-Let me take another sample
here just to make sure.
May I assist you with that?
No, you may not.
What I mean to say is that
if I have made a mistake,
I would prefer to
correct it myself,
if you don't mind.
- Hmm.
Of course.
You know, Duckster, I'd, um...
I would love to show you
the latest addition to my lab.
Yes! Yes, comfy chairs.
You need to try these out.
I'm, well, I-I'm
gonna just, um, swab,
uh, another sample for
Kasie and that's all.
Very well. Lead the way, Kasie.
So glad you're back.
Oh, man.
What am I doing?
Can I be doing this?
Is this even happening?
Why am I asking you?
Mr. DiNozzo.
Thank you for calling me back.
What's up, Brother Jimmy?
What's the deal?
Deal? What deal?
There's no deal.
Kasie texted me.
She said you were stressed.
What's wrong, man?
I just got a lot going on.
You know?
And I was just going
to meet someone, so, uh...
Who are you gonna meet?
Spit it out, dude.
Talk to your boy Nick.
Fine.
You don't happen
to know somewhere
where I could get
some bear saliva, do you?
I actually do know a guy.
But the guy is super weird,
so this has to be
really important.
Yeah, I lied to Gibbs.
- What?
- I did it. I lied.
It happened so fast.
Please, just don't tell him.
No, I won't.
But you know he knows.
He does know, doesn't he?
Yeah, he always knows.
Yeah, I knew the second
that I told him that he knew.
Worse off, he knows
that I know that he knows.
Well, you know how he knows.
He knows that...
Never mind.
Why did you lie?
Okay, so, it's a long story,
but...
Actually, don't tell me.
I don't want to know.
I'm better off that way.
You got to fix this, right?
Yeah. I fully intend to.
I gotta clean up
something else first.
What's that something else
you have to clean up?
Do you really want to know,
Nick?
Yes. No.
No. Yes. Actually, no, I
don't really want to know.
No, don't tell me.
I don't really want to know.
I really want to know.
That's quite a tale.
Yeah? What do you think?
How well do you know
this, uh, dry cleaner?
- Peter? Well enough.
- Hmm.
Being an excellent poker player
doesn't necessarily make him
a killer.
He's not excellent, just lucky.
I'm afraid it's more
than I can say for you.
Watching you play
that last hand
that night, Ed,
was like watching
a car wreck in slow motion.
His raises
were way over the top,
and he's got so many tells.
No, I don't.
Yes, you do.
I knew something was wrong the
second you came in this morning.
Your lower lip twitches.
And the eyebrows, huh?
The best of Groucho.
Plus, uh, he's a table talker.
Constantly bragging
between hands
about his hotshot son-in-law
who runs NCIS.
You tell people I run NCIS?
Well, it's easier
than explaining
what an assistant ME does.
I've told you seven times,
I'm not an assistant anymore.
And-and you didn't
bother correcting him?
I'm not a table talker.
But could we get back
to the alleged murder?
You're right. I'm afraid
it's more than alleged,
though, Mr. D.
The poor kid
was clearly stabbed.
But by whom?
I mean, Peter hardly seems
like the type.
I could talk to him.
Yeah? And say what?
Well, I'd mediate.
Uh, try to get Ed
off the hook here
and maybe point us
in the, uh, direction
of the true killer.
That would be fantastic.
Yeah, I'll take Ed with me,
but I think it's, uh, better
if you steer clear.
No, absolutely not.
No, this is on me to clean up.
If you go, I go.
I wouldn't mind not going.
Oh, no, you're going.
We're all going.
Oh, it's a Liu's Hangers.
There's one of these
in my neighborhood.
- Must be a chain, huh?
- Peter Liu's.
The best in the biz.
Yeah, it's no wonder
he can afford to host
such a high-stakes game.
Oh, there are far bigger games
than this.
And with some serious
high rollers.
Too high for my blood.
Hey, guys, before we go in,
I beg you to just stay civil
with Peter.
Relax, Ed. The guy's a pussycat.
Hold on.
Your lower lip is twitching.
No, it's not.
There go the dancing eyebrows.
All right, Groucho.
Spill your guts.
- What are you not telling us?
- All right.
Fine. You know what,
maybe it's better that you know
before we go in.
- Know what?
Peter Liu's got Stevie.
- Stevie?
- Ed's son.
Wait, wh-what do
you mean, "got"?
Peter's taken him as insurance.
Insurance.
You know, he's not
giving Stevie back
until I take care
of the dead kid.
Oh, you have got
to be kidding me.
I wish I was, but...
Okay, so-so, Stevie
has been taken hostage,
and you're only telling us
about this now?
Hey.
The last thing Peter said
was if I tell anyone,
Stevie's good as dead.
Okay. All right.
You know what, guys?
We should just go. All right?
It might be a little late
for that.
I hope he can't read lips.
Bear attack. Ridiculous.
I told you to stick
with the plan
and just cremate the guy.
I couldn't do it, Peter.
Cremate him, Ed?
I thought he told you to make it
look like an accident.
He was also warned
not to tell anyone,
but here you are.
The famous son-in-law
who runs NCIS.
I may not run NCIS,
but make no mistake.
I could have a team of agents
down here in minutes.
You're in too deep
with too much to lose.
If you weren't,
your agents
would be here already.
Peter, can we
just take a breath?
It's me talking,
your old buddy Tony.
I'm sure that you and I
can reach a compromise.
You know what, Tony?
You are a buddy,
so I'll tell you this once.
Keep your nose out of this
or lose it.
How's that for compromise?
Not exactly what I had in mind.
Would you just tell us
if Stevie is here?
He's safe.
But he'll only
stay that way
if you can sell
this stupid bear attack.
Mind you, a simple cremation
would've avoided all of this.
Thank your father-in-law
for that.
The bear attack wasn't
stupid, by the way.
It was stupid.
Now go finish this.
Go!
If you'd just told me about
Stevie from the start, Ed,
I would've handled this
a lot differently.
I was afraid. I panicked.
I panicked a little bit
myself in there.
Okay. All right, we are
all done panicking.
I know now what I have to do.
You'll sign off
on the bear attack?
No! Ed, there's no
more bear attack.
What I have to do is much worse.
Good morning, McGee. You, uh,
get the footage uploaded?
Just finishing now.
What up, what up?
You came through the back way?
I went to see Jimmy,
but he's not in yet.
Has he been through here?
No. Why?
No reason.
Nick.
Ellie.
How'd it go at the club?
No, you first.
No.
You first. Nightclub.
- Go.
- Well, we confirmed
Petty Officer Braddish was there
Friday night.
Club's owner recognized him
as one of two men
tossed out for fighting.
Owner didn't know either man,
but the bouncers said
that both men were drunk and
hitting on the same girl.
That's what led to the brawl.
There were no cameras outside
the club, so we're looking
for witnesses
who may have seen what happened
after they were thrown out.
Find the witnesses.
Get the footage down to Kasie.
- Facial recognition.
- Got it.
Hey, uh, Gibbs,
the kid's father is here
with Sloane in the
conference room.
When did you last speak
to your son, Mr. Braddish?
Uh, right before
weekend liberty.
He'd been working hard.
He was pumped.
Last thing I said to him...
The last thing I said to him
was, "Be careful."
Why? Was Logan planning to do
anything daring or dangerous?
No, no, just letting off
a little steam.
Logan was a bit
of a hellcat as a teen,
but the navy
really turned him around.
Hey, there.
Special Agent Gibbs.
Don't get up.
We're sorry about your loss.
Thank you.
Not that, uh...
not that Logan was a bad kid.
He just...
A little bit of a partier,
you know?
Too much beer
after football games.
He get in many fights?
He had a few scrapes,
like anyone.
Why?
Are you trying to tell me
that that's how he died?
Was Logan in a fight?
We're still working on that.
Please.
The cops won't give me
any details.
How did he die?
I'm so sorry, Mr. Braddish.
We know this is very difficult.
Can I at least see him?
I hate to interrupt.
Can I have a minute?
That was the father?
I just couldn't
bring myself to tell him that
his son was mauled by a bear.
Uh, it-it wasn't a bear attack.
Then what was it?
I can't say until I've talked
with Agent Gibbs.
Privately.
Okay.
First of all, Gibbs, I...
No.
Not here.
Is this really necessary?
Depends. What do you
have to tell me?
Sit down.
Is anyone back there?
No. Not yet.
So talk fast.
I... lied to you, Agent Gibbs.
And I know that you know that already,
but what you don't know
is that Ed had just begged me
to cover for him
after he lost $50,000
in a poker game
to an evil dry cleaner who I'm
pretty sure killed our Navy kid
and then demanded
that Ed cremate the body,
or he'd never see
his son Stevie again.
Only instead of doing that,
Ed, h-he fakes a bear attack
and never even tells me
about Stevie
until just before me,
Ed and Mr. DiNozzo
go to see
the dry cleaner.
Yeah, that's right:
Senior,
he plays in this game as well,
so he thought
maybe he could reason
with the dry cleaner,
but you know what?
No dice.
So the... the guy
still has Stevie,
and I'm sorry.
Go back.
And I won't blame you
for wanting to fire me
right now,
but I-I guess
I could just...
I could plead
temporary insanity.
Under intense familial pressure,
I stupidly thought
that I could...
I could thread the needle
between my personal ethics,
my loyalty and-and Breena.
Oh, my wife.
Agent Gibbs,
she worships her father,
and hearing any of this
would just break her heart,
and so... so...
so, uh...
nothing.
I'm done.
No. No, you're not done.
Who's the dry cleaner?
Right. Uh, his name is,
uh, uh, Peter Liu.
He owns Liu's Hangers chain,
which, I'm sure,
is just a front.
He's clearly Mr. Big.
I can take you
to his main office.
Stop.
- This is for my confession?
- The address.
You knew the whole time,
didn't you?
It's a culture of lies, Palmer.
Deceit, dishonesty,
hypocrisy.
Stupid is smart.
Disgrace...
is honor.
Not to me, Agent Gibbs. I...
It's our
responsibility
to fix things.
I have to trust you.
You can.
Gibbs, I am so sorry.
Don't lie.
Finish that
autopsy.
You make that kid
look presentable for his dad.
NCIS!
Clear.
Clear.
Not clear.
Think this is Jimmy's Mr. Big?
Not anymore.
Look, Gibbs, don't be
too hard on Jimmy.
It was me.
I'm the one.
With Peter dead,
where's that leave Stevie?
Maybe it's Stevie
who killed him.
No. There's no way.
It was not Stevie.
Then who?
You and Palmer
were the last to see
the dry cleaner alive.
Yeah, but you know
we didn't do it.
Don't you?
How did Stevie
get mixed up in this?
He's not.
He's-he's a great kid
and, uh, just a casualty
of my stupidity.
Well, someone disagrees.
He had some issues
as a youngster,
but he's way past that now
for weeks.
Years.
Tell the
truth, Ed.
Palmer!
Get in here!
Give him hell, Jimmy.
Good luck.
You're gonna need it.
All right...
that...
All right,
no more family card
to play here, Ed.
Time to come clean.
Stevie didn't do anything.
Are you sure about that?
Ed, you have been making excuses
for him his entire life,
after how many DUIs?
Hey!
The cheating at school.
Bouncing from one
job to the next.
All that's ancient history.
Or roping us all in to some
can't-miss real estate scam? Ed.
Hey! What the hell
does any of this
have to do with
our dead sailor?
Nothing. I just...
Trying to set the
record straight.
I...
Sorry.
No. I'm sorry.
Still making excuses,
covering up for him.
Covering for what?
Wasn't my gambling
that started all this.
It was Stevie's.
He got himself
into a much bigger game.
How much he lose?
Over $200,000.
Which is why I was betting
so high at Peter's.
Just trying to get us out of debt,
but my luck was no better.
And then, uh, last
Friday I got a call
about a meeting in
Georgetown around 2:00 a.m.
Peter had the Navy kid's body
in the trunk
of this other fella's fancy car.
What other fella?
Peter called him Kenny.
Asian. Around 30.
He's the one
who ran the big game.
Kenny it is.
Kenny told us
he'd get us out of debt
right after we got
rid of the body.
- But you didn't.
- I couldn't.
His family
deserves closure.
This him?
Yeah, that's him.
All right, you're
still in custody.
If he tries to
leave, shoot him.
Just wish you hadn't aired
all that personal family dirt
in front of Gibbs.
It's nobody's business.
- Seriously?
- Hey,
Stevie has had challenges
you know nothing about.
Not everyone is born
with your sunny disposition
unencumbered
by darkness.
Unencumbered?
Is that what you think of me?
You think I just, I came into this world
just whistling rainbows?
You know, at first
glance, uh, yeah.
What do you know
about me?
About my family,
about my upbringing.
About my dad.
Ed, have you ever even asked?
I always assumed...
He died when I was ten.
You know, the sad part is...
we were okay.
My dad, he was...
...he was not a good man.
I'll leave it at that.
I only gave up hating him
after Victoria was born...
as a daily conscious
and concerted effort
to never be like him.
I have one--
make that two
great father figures
here at NCIS.
And yet there is
something in me
that is still
holding out hope for you,
that one day you're actually
gonna show up for me...
like an actual dad.
Why would I do that?
What is wrong with me?
- Oh, Jimmy, I...
- No.
I've got work to do.
Come on.
Update. Find any Kennys?
No, sir. Not yet.
I've been
looking into Peter Liu.
No prior criminal record,
but his personal history
might help us.
Put it up.
Emigrated from Singapore
in 1997.
He worked menial jobs for years
before opening up his
first three dry-cleaning shops
in 2008.
How'd he swing that?
Well, with the help
of Liu's childhood friend,
the shops were bankrolled
by someone named Henry Deng.
Wait, the Henry Deng?
You know him?
Well, the man's a god
in the tech world.
Harvard MBA
who now owns
multiple corporations globally.
He's one of the wealthiest guys
in Singapore.
Keep digging.
Ducky.
Anthony!
What a pleasant surprise.
The surprise is mine.
No one mentioned
that you were back.
Yeah, funny the way that is.
I heard my, uh, poker pal
was on your table here.
That's the last time that
I will ever get involved
in business with NCIS.
Well, that may make
the two of us.
What does that mean?
It means that this
may be my last autopsy
for a while, perhaps ever.
What are you talking about?
How do you do it, Anthony?
What's your secret?
How do you reinvent yourself
so successfully time and again,
and-and so late in life?
I suppose it starts by, uh,
never conceding that it's...
late in life.
Yes, I came back here
'cause I'm going
to the Marine Corps
Scholarship Foundation Ball,
but I admit...
I miss my NCIS family.
They're easy to miss.
Yeah, the trouble is,
I'm not sure there's
a place for me here.
Uh, Dr. Palmer is
a exceptional medical examiner
who has every right
to resent my return.
I daresay I might
feel the same way
if the roles were reversed.
No. No, you wouldn't.
And for the record,
I have never resented you.
Dr. Palmer, it's all right.
- I...
- No, no, Doctor.
I was rude and curt
with you earlier,
but it's only because
I didn't want you to see me
making the biggest mistake
of my life.
I have brought shame
on our profession in a way that,
frankly, you never would have.
Oh, that's a bunch of baloney.
You were just trying to be a
good, uh, son-in-law to Groucho,
and you still ended up
doing everything right.
Jimmy, you are an honorable man.
There's no way
you could bring shame
to this profession.
Bring it in.
Damn place gets me every time.
Kase. What do we got?
We've got a match, Gibbs.
Two days of running
facial recognition
has finally given
us a face.
Kenneth Dent, pictured here
after his 2011 arrest
for drunk and disorderly
as a junior at
Towson University.
Yeah. That's our Kenny.
Where is he now?
Towson has no idea.
He flunked out shortly after,
and they have no record
of his current whereabouts.
- Shouldn't be too hard to find.
- But it might be with that name,
'cause-- and here's
where it gets good--
I dug deeper
to find that Kenneth Dent
is actually a registered alias,
given for security purposes
due to his wealthy family
in Singapore.
Ever heard the name...
Henry Deng?
Way to blow my big reveal.
How are they related?
Oh, Henry's youngest son.
Kenneth Dent
is actually Keung Deng,
youngest heir
to the Deng fortune and empire.
Singapore consulate
says Keung Deng,
aka Kenny Dent,
has no permanent U.S. residence.
It seems he moves from one
luxury hotel to the next.
Currently checked in
at the D.C. Biltmore.
Well, or checked out.
Biltmore said his credit cards
were cancelled as of yesterday.
BOLO. Every airport,
every border.
Maybe Henry caught wind
of his son's crimes
and cut him off?
Ask Henry Deng.
Boss, that's easier
said than done.
He's pretty high up
on the food chain.
I'll handle that, McGee.
We've got a
missing suspect
who's broke
and likely holding
Jimmy's brother-in-law.
That might be his only leverage.
Unless he still
has his game.
Oh, that's right.
The high-stakes game.
How do we find it?
I might be able
to help with that.
Hey! Chief!
Gibbs.
How are you?
- Good to see you.
- Good to see you.
- Thanks.
- Hey.
We heard
you were lurking around.
Oh, Ellie, never lurking.
Strutting, baby, strutting.
How do you help us?
I know people who know people.
I could make a few calls.
Yeah.
Um, if I find the game, Gibbs,
don't, uh...
don't storm the castle.
Okay?
Why not?
Because these games,
they got security.
Good guys and bad guys.
Uh, it could get messy.
Maybe it'd be better
if they played a few rounds
until we find out if this, uh,
Kenny fellow really shows up.
Start calling.
Hey, Gibbs,
send me.
Bishop and I
can go undercover.
You know,
Charlie and Louise.
Um, no, I don't know
anything about poker.
Oh, I know someone who does.
So, I beat Gibbs
at one of his friendly home
poker games, and now he thinks
I'm, like, the Cincinnati Kid.
Oh, so, uh, Gibbs has,
uh, games at his house?
I'm sure you'll...
be invited next time.
Here we go.
- Good evening.
- Please, come in.
Thank you.
Oh, this is gonna be good.
Hmm?
Oh, hello.
It's not him.
Uh, pardon,
who's the "him"
you're talking about?
Never mind.
Who referred you?
Anthony DiNozzo.
Sweet Tony.
But I'm afraid the game's
been cancelled tonight.
- We could've guessed that.
Ooh, let's guess again.
You're waiting for Kenny Dent.
- You know where he is?
- We were hoping
to find him here.
So were we.
He owes money
to everyone in this room.
Ah, that explains the guns.
But word on the street is
he's already skipped town.
Damn.
Well, since we're
already here,
might as well play a
hand or two, you know?
Fine.
All right, we're gonna need
some gun permits.
How about a donut, huh?
Danish?
Apple fritter?
What, no bear claws?
Stop apologizing, Jimmy.
You're making it worse.
I just feel so bad
that my family dysfunction
is causing
all this trouble.
Palmer, you're
our family.
You're worth the trouble, okay?
Now, go get us
some bear claws.
- Autopsy results?
- Oh, right.
The knife wounds
on both Petty Officer Braddish
and Peter Liu are a match,
but there's nothing to confirm
that it was Kenny Deng
who did the stabbing.
- Still no Kenny Deng?
- No. Still in the wind, boss.
We've got BOLOs out
all over the Northeast,
so he can't get far.
Yeah, unless he's already gone.
Yeah, along with Stevie.
Uh, hey, Gibbs?
Henry Deng.
Conference room.
Seriously, boss?
You got him?
The Chief.
He knows people.
Understand, Agents,
this meeting is
a diplomatic courtesy.
Mr. Deng is pleased
that he happened to be in D.C.
negotiating a merger.
Well, we are
quite pleased as well.
And I am eager to
clear my son's name.
Any mistake Keung made
was surely
in self-defense.
- You know what your son did?
Only what he's accused of.
Your son killed
a U.S. Navy seaman.
Perhaps this was
a mistake.
You think my son is a murderer?
Yeah, and he's also a kidnapper.
Mind you, he only kidnapped
to cover up the murder, so...
You sent your dry cleaner buddy
to help your son,
and your son killed him, too.
That's when you punished him,
cut him off.
But have you washed
your hands entirely, Mr. Deng?
Helping a suspect
to flee the country--
we call that aiding
and abetting, sir.
I have no idea
of what you believe,
nor my son's whereabouts.
Amazing.
The parental dynamic.
Some folks are too tough
on their kids.
Others are
not nearly tough enough.
Which one are you, Mr. Deng?
I'm afraid that ends
our meeting.
Okay.
Gibbs.
And who is this?
Ed Slater, Mr. Deng.
Another father
with a son in trouble.
I couldn't
help but hear
Agent Sloane's question
through the door.
Afraid I fall into the
"not tough enough" category.
Funny how we get this picture
in our heads
of what our kids might become.
Give them every chance,
bailing them out of trouble
over and over,
hoping this incident
will be the one that flips
the switch in their heads
so they might finally
turn that
elusive corner.
And when they don't,
hell, I even resent
other kids
who seem to have it
all together,
wondering why my son
can't be more like them.
Tell him why you didn't cremate
the body like you were told, Ed.
I figured the
only thing worse
than losing a child
would be
to have one simply vanish
and never be found.
I'm begging
you, sir.
If you know where my son is,
please tell us.
Is my Stevie alive?
Is he safe?
I just need to know.
Please.
Kenny, can we please talk
about this?
All you do is
talk. I'm done.
No, no, no, no, no,
please, please!
Just listen to me.
I-I won't say anything.
I swear to God.
No, Kenny!
Kenny!
Please!
NCIS.
Help!
Help!
Help!
Oh, thank God.
Thank you.
Oh, man.
Thank you, guys, so much.
Dad? Jimmy?
Stevie, thank God
you're okay!
Thank you, Jimmy.
I-I knew you'd come save me.
I-I kept praying.
It's okay, it's okay.
I kept praying.
Stevie, it was your dad.
He's the one
you should be thanking.
No, Jimmy, it was you.
Thank you, son.
Now it feels like
a real prom.
The Marine Corps Scholarship
Foundation ball
is far better
than any prom, Anthony.
And you're extremely
fortunate to be my date.
Don't I know it.
But I would
prefer "wingman,"
if you don't mind.
Ah, yes, I forget.
We're going to be hitting
some of his favorite
night spots afterwards.
We'd invite you
to come along, Gibbs,
but you're a bit young
for this crowd.
And who needs the competition?
Long as you have protection.
Don't leave home without it.
Yeah.
Start the car.
I'll be right out.
Uh, keep the phone
by your bed, Gibbs.
We may need you
to post bail.
Good night, Chief.
Good to go?
What
an appropriate choice of words.
Something on your mind?
No, no. Not now.
Perhaps tomorrow.
What are you planning
after tomorrow?
I'm-I'm not entirely sure.
But one thing I am certain of...
...my future
will no longer include NCIS.
Jethro, I've done
all I have to do.
It's time for Dr. Palmer
to be the permanent
chief medical examiner.
I'm sorry.
Good night.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man
I see over there?
Or maybe just
an angry squirrel.
Okay, got it.
Your boyfriend's
a big chicken.
Hilarious.
Oh, no.
Are there chickens
out here, too?
It's snakes I'm
worried about, okay?
Not lions, not tigers...
Snakes in the middle
of winter?
Why not? They're
cold-blooded.
Which is why they're dormant:
not enough sun
to warm them up.
This is ninth grade
earth science, babe.
- I guess I slept through that...
- Oh, my God!
Nice try.
Whoa.
What the hell?
Joe, get up!
♪ NCIS 16x16 ♪
Bears and Cubs
Original Air Date on March 12, 2019
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man
I swear, McGee, your case
summaries read like a good book.
Thank you.
I try and do more than
"just the facts, ma'am."
This one is
a real page-turner.
It's got mood,
intrigue, emotion.
And that typo.
That or you flat-out
misspelled the word.
Either way, I caught it.
And what word is that?
"Weather."
As in:
"Our agents did their best
to whether the storm."
I see it.
You spelled it W-H,
"whether or not."
When in fact
it should be
W-E, as in, like:
"How's the weather?"
Or as in: "I doubt whether
anyone would care either way."
I care. I'm not
just anyone.
There is
a third spelling.
W-E-T-H,
like in "bellwether,"
which means a castrated ram.
And why would anyone say:
"We'll castrated ram the storm"?
Uh, just pointing out the
nuances of the English language.
I've got some nuance for you.
Grab your gear.
Dead petty officer,
Great Falls Park.
What is a bellwether?
Well, a "wether" is
a ram that leads
a flock of sheep
with a bell around its neck.
It's a bellwether.
- Ah, got it.
- Okay, cool.
Don't even ask, boss.
Victim is Petty Officer
Third Class Logan Braddish,
currently listed as U.A.
from his base in Norfolk.
What was he doing
way out here?
And what tore him
up like that?
Give me a guess,
Palmer.
There's a lot
of little postmortem bites
from much smaller animals,
but his throat and abdomen
were clearly ripped up
by something much larger.
Well, park rangers have
had black bear sightings
- over the past few years.
- Except black bears
aren't known to attack people.
Could have been wolves.
Or coyotes.
In these woods?
- Mm.
- No way.
Oh, got something here.
- Bishop.
- Hmm?
Oh.
That's a claw.
Sure is.
Uh, could I have
an evidence bag, please?
That could have been
a bear after all.
- Could be.
- Maybe he
accidentally snuck up
on a mother and her cubs?
Only one way to find out.
Spread out,
start looking.
Paw prints, bear scat,
blood trail. Go.
And by "scat" you mean...?
Does a bear scat in the woods?
Ah. Yeah, that's
what I thought you meant.
He was just a baby-faced kid.
Ah. Guess I can add this
to the list.
Yeah? What list?
Of the most horrible deaths
since I started here.
This ranks somewhere
between pummeled
with a war stick
and boiled in a hot tub.
You know,
technically, our hot tub guy was
stabbed before he was boiled.
Yeah, that makes it
so much less horrible.
Anyway, please tell me
this is your first bear attack.
It is. If that's
what this is.
You have this claw
and those wounds.
What more do you need?
I need whatever
you can find here.
You got it.
Quick as I can.
- Hi.
- Hey.
There's my favorite
son-in-law.
What?
Oh.
Ed. Hey.
You're busy.
No. I, uh...
I-I mean, yes, yes.
But I...
Is everything okay?
Everyone's super-duper.
I was just in the neighborhood,
thought I'd surprise you.
Thank you, Agent Supliski.
I've got him.
And actually...
...I thought
I'd grab you for lunch.
Oh, gosh.
I-I would love that.
Are you sure
there's nothing wrong?
Given your reaction,
it must be obvious
that we don't do this
nearly enough.
Or ever.
Uh, actually, you know what, Ed,
I-I might have to take
a rain check for today.
I've just started
a rather peculiar case.
Forget peculiar.
We don't get many like
this at the funeral home.
I'd be worried if you did.
Wow. Mind if I ask
what happened?
Bear attack is
the working theory so far.
A bear? How crazy is that?
Maybe a little too crazy, Ed.
There's a lot
of claw marks here,
but as you can see,
none of them are too deep.
Yeah, I-I think a bear
would pack more of a wallop.
Well, they look
plenty deep to me.
I could see a grizzly bear
out west,
or maybe a polar bear
up north, but...
I mean, a black bear attack?
Why not? I hear
about attacks all the time,
and, you know,
black bears, brown bears,
they all have teeth and claws,
right?
Wait a minute.
How did I miss that?
Miss what?
What is it?
It looks like a knife wound
under this claw mark.
Yeah. Yeah,
that's about an inch wide.
Partially obscured
by this...
torn dermis here.
You see that, Ed?
You...
Ed? What's wrong?
This was a bear.
What?
Say it was a bear. Please.
Ed, wh-what are you...
I promise you, Jimmy,
it's a matter
of life and death.
Call it a bear attack.
For me.
What do you got, Palmer?
Oh. Agent Gibbs.
Well, you know what?
It's Ed Slater.
I'm Jimmy's father-in-law
and Breena's dad.
It's been a few years.
I'm glad you're well.
Undertaker.
You remember. See?
Yeah, that's right.
Although I prefer
"postmortem coordinator."
Palmer.
You need an update?
Still a bear?
Um... yeah.
I-It's...
it's still a bear.
Keep me posted.
Good to see you
again, Gibbs.
What have I done?
Can't believe
I just lied to Gibbs.
And for what?
Pancakes.
You ever have pancakes
for lunch?
What do you say?
Tell me why, Ed,
why, after years of
earning that man's trust,
did I just lie to his
face because of you.
What is so life-and-death?
I hate to admit,
but I've been gambling.
And, well, I thought it was just
a weekly friendly poker game
with the other local merchants.
Gambling is not
life-and-death, Ed.
But $50K is.
That's what I get
for going all in
on four kings, not knowing
the dry cleaner had four aces.
You lost $50,000
to a dry cleaner?
Peter hosts the game.
Nice guy, or at least he was
until I went to work out
a payment plan.
Suddenly he had
a favor to ask
that would erase
all my debts entirely.
- A favor?
- He brought the kid's dead body
to my embalming studio
and told me to make it look
like an accident.
Okay, who wants coffee?
Not just yet.
Actually...
I'd love a cup.
- Ed.
- Huh?
Not just yet.
Okay.
Did the dry cleaner
tell you what happened?
No, and I didn't ask.
I saw the knife wound
and that he was Navy,
so I figured
eventually he'd end up
on your autopsy table, so...
So you thought you'd
just fake a bear attack.
That's why I worked so hard
to make it look real
so that'd make your job easier.
Wh-What,
to help you cover up a murder?
That's not exactly what we did.
That is exactly what...
That is exactly
what you did, not we.
Unless...
What about Stevie?
Is he still helping you out
at the funeral home?
Sure, yeah,
but Stevie's out of town.
He doesn't know
anything about it.
Of course. Your
own son stays clean
while your son-in-law gets
dragged through the mud.
I swear I'll make it up to you.
Don't. Just...
I don't...
Tell me who else
plays in this game.
It's me and Peter Liu--
he's the dry cleaner--
Janice, the Froyo lady,
Dimitri, who owns a barbershop,
old man DiNozzo,
Lenny the bartender,
and...
Stop.
Did you just say
"old man DiNozzo"?
Anthony. Yeah.
He's retired,
but a real old-school raconteur.
- He knows terrific stories.
- Okay,
w-was he there
the night that you lost?
Yeah. Why? Do you know him?
You bet I do.
I'm gonna reach out
and see if he can help.
Uh...
what do you want me to do?
Uh, you just... order
your coffee and pancakes
and... I don't know,
try not to cover up any more
murders till I get back, huh?
Sarcasm doesn't help.
"Derived from the Greek word
'skat' with a 'K,'
meaning 'excrement
of an animal'."
Yeah. Wild animals, maybe.
Cows have manure,
cow pats, meadow muffins...
Bird droppings,
bat guano...
Wait, did you say
"meadow muffins"?
Cut the crap.
You find any?
No, boss,
no, uh, scat at the scene.
No paw prints, either.
Then what do we have?
Petty Officer
Third Class Logan Braddish, 22.
Served three years,
stationed out of Norfolk,
where he never reported back
this past Sunday
after weekend liberty.
Navy pals claimed that
he left their group
Friday night to check out this
trendy nightclub in Georgetown,
and that was the last
they saw of him.
- Any family in the area?
- No. He was from Vermont.
His family has been notified.
His dad is on his way down.
McGee, Bishop, check out
the nightclub. Torres,
call the rangers again, find out
if they have any bear sightings.
Scat.
Call me back as soon
as you can, Mr. DiNozzo.
It's urgent.
Thank you.
Hey there.
You finished already?
Yes. And...
look who's back.
I... Oh, of course.
Dr. Mallard!
Good to see you,
too, Dr. Palmer.
You aren't due back
for several weeks.
Yes. But this weekend,
I have a table at the...
Marine Corps Scholarship
Foundation Ball.
So...
back I am.
And we're so glad you are.
Yes. Definitely glad.
And I discovered he was back
because I have some weird news.
- Weird?
- Those samples you gave me?
They contain not one trace
of bear saliva.
Bear saliva.
This must be the petty
officer in question.
That-that is weird, Kasie.
L-Let me take another sample
here just to make sure.
May I assist you with that?
No, you may not.
What I mean to say is that
if I have made a mistake,
I would prefer to
correct it myself,
if you don't mind.
- Hmm.
Of course.
You know, Duckster, I'd, um...
I would love to show you
the latest addition to my lab.
Yes! Yes, comfy chairs.
You need to try these out.
I'm, well, I-I'm
gonna just, um, swab,
uh, another sample for
Kasie and that's all.
Very well. Lead the way, Kasie.
So glad you're back.
Oh, man.
What am I doing?
Can I be doing this?
Is this even happening?
Why am I asking you?
Mr. DiNozzo.
Thank you for calling me back.
What's up, Brother Jimmy?
What's the deal?
Deal? What deal?
There's no deal.
Kasie texted me.
She said you were stressed.
What's wrong, man?
I just got a lot going on.
You know?
And I was just going
to meet someone, so, uh...
Who are you gonna meet?
Spit it out, dude.
Talk to your boy Nick.
Fine.
You don't happen
to know somewhere
where I could get
some bear saliva, do you?
I actually do know a guy.
But the guy is super weird,
so this has to be
really important.
Yeah, I lied to Gibbs.
- What?
- I did it. I lied.
It happened so fast.
Please, just don't tell him.
No, I won't.
But you know he knows.
He does know, doesn't he?
Yeah, he always knows.
Yeah, I knew the second
that I told him that he knew.
Worse off, he knows
that I know that he knows.
Well, you know how he knows.
He knows that...
Never mind.
Why did you lie?
Okay, so, it's a long story,
but...
Actually, don't tell me.
I don't want to know.
I'm better off that way.
You got to fix this, right?
Yeah. I fully intend to.
I gotta clean up
something else first.
What's that something else
you have to clean up?
Do you really want to know,
Nick?
Yes. No.
No. Yes. Actually, no, I
don't really want to know.
No, don't tell me.
I don't really want to know.
I really want to know.
That's quite a tale.
Yeah? What do you think?
How well do you know
this, uh, dry cleaner?
- Peter? Well enough.
- Hmm.
Being an excellent poker player
doesn't necessarily make him
a killer.
He's not excellent, just lucky.
I'm afraid it's more
than I can say for you.
Watching you play
that last hand
that night, Ed,
was like watching
a car wreck in slow motion.
His raises
were way over the top,
and he's got so many tells.
No, I don't.
Yes, you do.
I knew something was wrong the
second you came in this morning.
Your lower lip twitches.
And the eyebrows, huh?
The best of Groucho.
Plus, uh, he's a table talker.
Constantly bragging
between hands
about his hotshot son-in-law
who runs NCIS.
You tell people I run NCIS?
Well, it's easier
than explaining
what an assistant ME does.
I've told you seven times,
I'm not an assistant anymore.
And-and you didn't
bother correcting him?
I'm not a table talker.
But could we get back
to the alleged murder?
You're right. I'm afraid
it's more than alleged,
though, Mr. D.
The poor kid
was clearly stabbed.
But by whom?
I mean, Peter hardly seems
like the type.
I could talk to him.
Yeah? And say what?
Well, I'd mediate.
Uh, try to get Ed
off the hook here
and maybe point us
in the, uh, direction
of the true killer.
That would be fantastic.
Yeah, I'll take Ed with me,
but I think it's, uh, better
if you steer clear.
No, absolutely not.
No, this is on me to clean up.
If you go, I go.
I wouldn't mind not going.
Oh, no, you're going.
We're all going.
Oh, it's a Liu's Hangers.
There's one of these
in my neighborhood.
- Must be a chain, huh?
- Peter Liu's.
The best in the biz.
Yeah, it's no wonder
he can afford to host
such a high-stakes game.
Oh, there are far bigger games
than this.
And with some serious
high rollers.
Too high for my blood.
Hey, guys, before we go in,
I beg you to just stay civil
with Peter.
Relax, Ed. The guy's a pussycat.
Hold on.
Your lower lip is twitching.
No, it's not.
There go the dancing eyebrows.
All right, Groucho.
Spill your guts.
- What are you not telling us?
- All right.
Fine. You know what,
maybe it's better that you know
before we go in.
- Know what?
Peter Liu's got Stevie.
- Stevie?
- Ed's son.
Wait, wh-what do
you mean, "got"?
Peter's taken him as insurance.
Insurance.
You know, he's not
giving Stevie back
until I take care
of the dead kid.
Oh, you have got
to be kidding me.
I wish I was, but...
Okay, so-so, Stevie
has been taken hostage,
and you're only telling us
about this now?
Hey.
The last thing Peter said
was if I tell anyone,
Stevie's good as dead.
Okay. All right.
You know what, guys?
We should just go. All right?
It might be a little late
for that.
I hope he can't read lips.
Bear attack. Ridiculous.
I told you to stick
with the plan
and just cremate the guy.
I couldn't do it, Peter.
Cremate him, Ed?
I thought he told you to make it
look like an accident.
He was also warned
not to tell anyone,
but here you are.
The famous son-in-law
who runs NCIS.
I may not run NCIS,
but make no mistake.
I could have a team of agents
down here in minutes.
You're in too deep
with too much to lose.
If you weren't,
your agents
would be here already.
Peter, can we
just take a breath?
It's me talking,
your old buddy Tony.
I'm sure that you and I
can reach a compromise.
You know what, Tony?
You are a buddy,
so I'll tell you this once.
Keep your nose out of this
or lose it.
How's that for compromise?
Not exactly what I had in mind.
Would you just tell us
if Stevie is here?
He's safe.
But he'll only
stay that way
if you can sell
this stupid bear attack.
Mind you, a simple cremation
would've avoided all of this.
Thank your father-in-law
for that.
The bear attack wasn't
stupid, by the way.
It was stupid.
Now go finish this.
Go!
If you'd just told me about
Stevie from the start, Ed,
I would've handled this
a lot differently.
I was afraid. I panicked.
I panicked a little bit
myself in there.
Okay. All right, we are
all done panicking.
I know now what I have to do.
You'll sign off
on the bear attack?
No! Ed, there's no
more bear attack.
What I have to do is much worse.
Good morning, McGee. You, uh,
get the footage uploaded?
Just finishing now.
What up, what up?
You came through the back way?
I went to see Jimmy,
but he's not in yet.
Has he been through here?
No. Why?
No reason.
Nick.
Ellie.
How'd it go at the club?
No, you first.
No.
You first. Nightclub.
- Go.
- Well, we confirmed
Petty Officer Braddish was there
Friday night.
Club's owner recognized him
as one of two men
tossed out for fighting.
Owner didn't know either man,
but the bouncers said
that both men were drunk and
hitting on the same girl.
That's what led to the brawl.
There were no cameras outside
the club, so we're looking
for witnesses
who may have seen what happened
after they were thrown out.
Find the witnesses.
Get the footage down to Kasie.
- Facial recognition.
- Got it.
Hey, uh, Gibbs,
the kid's father is here
with Sloane in the
conference room.
When did you last speak
to your son, Mr. Braddish?
Uh, right before
weekend liberty.
He'd been working hard.
He was pumped.
Last thing I said to him...
The last thing I said to him
was, "Be careful."
Why? Was Logan planning to do
anything daring or dangerous?
No, no, just letting off
a little steam.
Logan was a bit
of a hellcat as a teen,
but the navy
really turned him around.
Hey, there.
Special Agent Gibbs.
Don't get up.
We're sorry about your loss.
Thank you.
Not that, uh...
not that Logan was a bad kid.
He just...
A little bit of a partier,
you know?
Too much beer
after football games.
He get in many fights?
He had a few scrapes,
like anyone.
Why?
Are you trying to tell me
that that's how he died?
Was Logan in a fight?
We're still working on that.
Please.
The cops won't give me
any details.
How did he die?
I'm so sorry, Mr. Braddish.
We know this is very difficult.
Can I at least see him?
I hate to interrupt.
Can I have a minute?
That was the father?
I just couldn't
bring myself to tell him that
his son was mauled by a bear.
Uh, it-it wasn't a bear attack.
Then what was it?
I can't say until I've talked
with Agent Gibbs.
Privately.
Okay.
First of all, Gibbs, I...
No.
Not here.
Is this really necessary?
Depends. What do you
have to tell me?
Sit down.
Is anyone back there?
No. Not yet.
So talk fast.
I... lied to you, Agent Gibbs.
And I know that you know that already,
but what you don't know
is that Ed had just begged me
to cover for him
after he lost $50,000
in a poker game
to an evil dry cleaner who I'm
pretty sure killed our Navy kid
and then demanded
that Ed cremate the body,
or he'd never see
his son Stevie again.
Only instead of doing that,
Ed, h-he fakes a bear attack
and never even tells me
about Stevie
until just before me,
Ed and Mr. DiNozzo
go to see
the dry cleaner.
Yeah, that's right:
Senior,
he plays in this game as well,
so he thought
maybe he could reason
with the dry cleaner,
but you know what?
No dice.
So the... the guy
still has Stevie,
and I'm sorry.
Go back.
And I won't blame you
for wanting to fire me
right now,
but I-I guess
I could just...
I could plead
temporary insanity.
Under intense familial pressure,
I stupidly thought
that I could...
I could thread the needle
between my personal ethics,
my loyalty and-and Breena.
Oh, my wife.
Agent Gibbs,
she worships her father,
and hearing any of this
would just break her heart,
and so... so...
so, uh...
nothing.
I'm done.
No. No, you're not done.
Who's the dry cleaner?
Right. Uh, his name is,
uh, uh, Peter Liu.
He owns Liu's Hangers chain,
which, I'm sure,
is just a front.
He's clearly Mr. Big.
I can take you
to his main office.
Stop.
- This is for my confession?
- The address.
You knew the whole time,
didn't you?
It's a culture of lies, Palmer.
Deceit, dishonesty,
hypocrisy.
Stupid is smart.
Disgrace...
is honor.
Not to me, Agent Gibbs. I...
It's our
responsibility
to fix things.
I have to trust you.
You can.
Gibbs, I am so sorry.
Don't lie.
Finish that
autopsy.
You make that kid
look presentable for his dad.
NCIS!
Clear.
Clear.
Not clear.
Think this is Jimmy's Mr. Big?
Not anymore.
Look, Gibbs, don't be
too hard on Jimmy.
It was me.
I'm the one.
With Peter dead,
where's that leave Stevie?
Maybe it's Stevie
who killed him.
No. There's no way.
It was not Stevie.
Then who?
You and Palmer
were the last to see
the dry cleaner alive.
Yeah, but you know
we didn't do it.
Don't you?
How did Stevie
get mixed up in this?
He's not.
He's-he's a great kid
and, uh, just a casualty
of my stupidity.
Well, someone disagrees.
He had some issues
as a youngster,
but he's way past that now
for weeks.
Years.
Tell the
truth, Ed.
Palmer!
Get in here!
Give him hell, Jimmy.
Good luck.
You're gonna need it.
All right...
that...
All right,
no more family card
to play here, Ed.
Time to come clean.
Stevie didn't do anything.
Are you sure about that?
Ed, you have been making excuses
for him his entire life,
after how many DUIs?
Hey!
The cheating at school.
Bouncing from one
job to the next.
All that's ancient history.
Or roping us all in to some
can't-miss real estate scam? Ed.
Hey! What the hell
does any of this
have to do with
our dead sailor?
Nothing. I just...
Trying to set the
record straight.
I...
Sorry.
No. I'm sorry.
Still making excuses,
covering up for him.
Covering for what?
Wasn't my gambling
that started all this.
It was Stevie's.
He got himself
into a much bigger game.
How much he lose?
Over $200,000.
Which is why I was betting
so high at Peter's.
Just trying to get us out of debt,
but my luck was no better.
And then, uh, last
Friday I got a call
about a meeting in
Georgetown around 2:00 a.m.
Peter had the Navy kid's body
in the trunk
of this other fella's fancy car.
What other fella?
Peter called him Kenny.
Asian. Around 30.
He's the one
who ran the big game.
Kenny it is.
Kenny told us
he'd get us out of debt
right after we got
rid of the body.
- But you didn't.
- I couldn't.
His family
deserves closure.
This him?
Yeah, that's him.
All right, you're
still in custody.
If he tries to
leave, shoot him.
Just wish you hadn't aired
all that personal family dirt
in front of Gibbs.
It's nobody's business.
- Seriously?
- Hey,
Stevie has had challenges
you know nothing about.
Not everyone is born
with your sunny disposition
unencumbered
by darkness.
Unencumbered?
Is that what you think of me?
You think I just, I came into this world
just whistling rainbows?
You know, at first
glance, uh, yeah.
What do you know
about me?
About my family,
about my upbringing.
About my dad.
Ed, have you ever even asked?
I always assumed...
He died when I was ten.
You know, the sad part is...
we were okay.
My dad, he was...
...he was not a good man.
I'll leave it at that.
I only gave up hating him
after Victoria was born...
as a daily conscious
and concerted effort
to never be like him.
I have one--
make that two
great father figures
here at NCIS.
And yet there is
something in me
that is still
holding out hope for you,
that one day you're actually
gonna show up for me...
like an actual dad.
Why would I do that?
What is wrong with me?
- Oh, Jimmy, I...
- No.
I've got work to do.
Come on.
Update. Find any Kennys?
No, sir. Not yet.
I've been
looking into Peter Liu.
No prior criminal record,
but his personal history
might help us.
Put it up.
Emigrated from Singapore
in 1997.
He worked menial jobs for years
before opening up his
first three dry-cleaning shops
in 2008.
How'd he swing that?
Well, with the help
of Liu's childhood friend,
the shops were bankrolled
by someone named Henry Deng.
Wait, the Henry Deng?
You know him?
Well, the man's a god
in the tech world.
Harvard MBA
who now owns
multiple corporations globally.
He's one of the wealthiest guys
in Singapore.
Keep digging.
Ducky.
Anthony!
What a pleasant surprise.
The surprise is mine.
No one mentioned
that you were back.
Yeah, funny the way that is.
I heard my, uh, poker pal
was on your table here.
That's the last time that
I will ever get involved
in business with NCIS.
Well, that may make
the two of us.
What does that mean?
It means that this
may be my last autopsy
for a while, perhaps ever.
What are you talking about?
How do you do it, Anthony?
What's your secret?
How do you reinvent yourself
so successfully time and again,
and-and so late in life?
I suppose it starts by, uh,
never conceding that it's...
late in life.
Yes, I came back here
'cause I'm going
to the Marine Corps
Scholarship Foundation Ball,
but I admit...
I miss my NCIS family.
They're easy to miss.
Yeah, the trouble is,
I'm not sure there's
a place for me here.
Uh, Dr. Palmer is
a exceptional medical examiner
who has every right
to resent my return.
I daresay I might
feel the same way
if the roles were reversed.
No. No, you wouldn't.
And for the record,
I have never resented you.
Dr. Palmer, it's all right.
- I...
- No, no, Doctor.
I was rude and curt
with you earlier,
but it's only because
I didn't want you to see me
making the biggest mistake
of my life.
I have brought shame
on our profession in a way that,
frankly, you never would have.
Oh, that's a bunch of baloney.
You were just trying to be a
good, uh, son-in-law to Groucho,
and you still ended up
doing everything right.
Jimmy, you are an honorable man.
There's no way
you could bring shame
to this profession.
Bring it in.
Damn place gets me every time.
Kase. What do we got?
We've got a match, Gibbs.
Two days of running
facial recognition
has finally given
us a face.
Kenneth Dent, pictured here
after his 2011 arrest
for drunk and disorderly
as a junior at
Towson University.
Yeah. That's our Kenny.
Where is he now?
Towson has no idea.
He flunked out shortly after,
and they have no record
of his current whereabouts.
- Shouldn't be too hard to find.
- But it might be with that name,
'cause-- and here's
where it gets good--
I dug deeper
to find that Kenneth Dent
is actually a registered alias,
given for security purposes
due to his wealthy family
in Singapore.
Ever heard the name...
Henry Deng?
Way to blow my big reveal.
How are they related?
Oh, Henry's youngest son.
Kenneth Dent
is actually Keung Deng,
youngest heir
to the Deng fortune and empire.
Singapore consulate
says Keung Deng,
aka Kenny Dent,
has no permanent U.S. residence.
It seems he moves from one
luxury hotel to the next.
Currently checked in
at the D.C. Biltmore.
Well, or checked out.
Biltmore said his credit cards
were cancelled as of yesterday.
BOLO. Every airport,
every border.
Maybe Henry caught wind
of his son's crimes
and cut him off?
Ask Henry Deng.
Boss, that's easier
said than done.
He's pretty high up
on the food chain.
I'll handle that, McGee.
We've got a
missing suspect
who's broke
and likely holding
Jimmy's brother-in-law.
That might be his only leverage.
Unless he still
has his game.
Oh, that's right.
The high-stakes game.
How do we find it?
I might be able
to help with that.
Hey! Chief!
Gibbs.
How are you?
- Good to see you.
- Good to see you.
- Thanks.
- Hey.
We heard
you were lurking around.
Oh, Ellie, never lurking.
Strutting, baby, strutting.
How do you help us?
I know people who know people.
I could make a few calls.
Yeah.
Um, if I find the game, Gibbs,
don't, uh...
don't storm the castle.
Okay?
Why not?
Because these games,
they got security.
Good guys and bad guys.
Uh, it could get messy.
Maybe it'd be better
if they played a few rounds
until we find out if this, uh,
Kenny fellow really shows up.
Start calling.
Hey, Gibbs,
send me.
Bishop and I
can go undercover.
You know,
Charlie and Louise.
Um, no, I don't know
anything about poker.
Oh, I know someone who does.
So, I beat Gibbs
at one of his friendly home
poker games, and now he thinks
I'm, like, the Cincinnati Kid.
Oh, so, uh, Gibbs has,
uh, games at his house?
I'm sure you'll...
be invited next time.
Here we go.
- Good evening.
- Please, come in.
Thank you.
Oh, this is gonna be good.
Hmm?
Oh, hello.
It's not him.
Uh, pardon,
who's the "him"
you're talking about?
Never mind.
Who referred you?
Anthony DiNozzo.
Sweet Tony.
But I'm afraid the game's
been cancelled tonight.
- We could've guessed that.
Ooh, let's guess again.
You're waiting for Kenny Dent.
- You know where he is?
- We were hoping
to find him here.
So were we.
He owes money
to everyone in this room.
Ah, that explains the guns.
But word on the street is
he's already skipped town.
Damn.
Well, since we're
already here,
might as well play a
hand or two, you know?
Fine.
All right, we're gonna need
some gun permits.
How about a donut, huh?
Danish?
Apple fritter?
What, no bear claws?
Stop apologizing, Jimmy.
You're making it worse.
I just feel so bad
that my family dysfunction
is causing
all this trouble.
Palmer, you're
our family.
You're worth the trouble, okay?
Now, go get us
some bear claws.
- Autopsy results?
- Oh, right.
The knife wounds
on both Petty Officer Braddish
and Peter Liu are a match,
but there's nothing to confirm
that it was Kenny Deng
who did the stabbing.
- Still no Kenny Deng?
- No. Still in the wind, boss.
We've got BOLOs out
all over the Northeast,
so he can't get far.
Yeah, unless he's already gone.
Yeah, along with Stevie.
Uh, hey, Gibbs?
Henry Deng.
Conference room.
Seriously, boss?
You got him?
The Chief.
He knows people.
Understand, Agents,
this meeting is
a diplomatic courtesy.
Mr. Deng is pleased
that he happened to be in D.C.
negotiating a merger.
Well, we are
quite pleased as well.
And I am eager to
clear my son's name.
Any mistake Keung made
was surely
in self-defense.
- You know what your son did?
Only what he's accused of.
Your son killed
a U.S. Navy seaman.
Perhaps this was
a mistake.
You think my son is a murderer?
Yeah, and he's also a kidnapper.
Mind you, he only kidnapped
to cover up the murder, so...
You sent your dry cleaner buddy
to help your son,
and your son killed him, too.
That's when you punished him,
cut him off.
But have you washed
your hands entirely, Mr. Deng?
Helping a suspect
to flee the country--
we call that aiding
and abetting, sir.
I have no idea
of what you believe,
nor my son's whereabouts.
Amazing.
The parental dynamic.
Some folks are too tough
on their kids.
Others are
not nearly tough enough.
Which one are you, Mr. Deng?
I'm afraid that ends
our meeting.
Okay.
Gibbs.
And who is this?
Ed Slater, Mr. Deng.
Another father
with a son in trouble.
I couldn't
help but hear
Agent Sloane's question
through the door.
Afraid I fall into the
"not tough enough" category.
Funny how we get this picture
in our heads
of what our kids might become.
Give them every chance,
bailing them out of trouble
over and over,
hoping this incident
will be the one that flips
the switch in their heads
so they might finally
turn that
elusive corner.
And when they don't,
hell, I even resent
other kids
who seem to have it
all together,
wondering why my son
can't be more like them.
Tell him why you didn't cremate
the body like you were told, Ed.
I figured the
only thing worse
than losing a child
would be
to have one simply vanish
and never be found.
I'm begging
you, sir.
If you know where my son is,
please tell us.
Is my Stevie alive?
Is he safe?
I just need to know.
Please.
Kenny, can we please talk
about this?
All you do is
talk. I'm done.
No, no, no, no, no,
please, please!
Just listen to me.
I-I won't say anything.
I swear to God.
No, Kenny!
Kenny!
Please!
NCIS.
Help!
Help!
Help!
Oh, thank God.
Thank you.
Oh, man.
Thank you, guys, so much.
Dad? Jimmy?
Stevie, thank God
you're okay!
Thank you, Jimmy.
I-I knew you'd come save me.
I-I kept praying.
It's okay, it's okay.
I kept praying.
Stevie, it was your dad.
He's the one
you should be thanking.
No, Jimmy, it was you.
Thank you, son.
Now it feels like
a real prom.
The Marine Corps Scholarship
Foundation ball
is far better
than any prom, Anthony.
And you're extremely
fortunate to be my date.
Don't I know it.
But I would
prefer "wingman,"
if you don't mind.
Ah, yes, I forget.
We're going to be hitting
some of his favorite
night spots afterwards.
We'd invite you
to come along, Gibbs,
but you're a bit young
for this crowd.
And who needs the competition?
Long as you have protection.
Don't leave home without it.
Yeah.
Start the car.
I'll be right out.
Uh, keep the phone
by your bed, Gibbs.
We may need you
to post bail.
Good night, Chief.
Good to go?
What
an appropriate choice of words.
Something on your mind?
No, no. Not now.
Perhaps tomorrow.
What are you planning
after tomorrow?
I'm-I'm not entirely sure.
But one thing I am certain of...
...my future
will no longer include NCIS.
Jethro, I've done
all I have to do.
It's time for Dr. Palmer
to be the permanent
chief medical examiner.
I'm sorry.
Good night.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man