NCIS (2003–…): Season 6, Episode 17 - South by Southwest - full transcript

Jack Patterson, a special agent of the NCIS, dies on a sidewalk in Washington, DC, in an execution-style shooting right after he drops a package into a mailbox. Abby says that Jack was on his way to meet her; soon she receives the carton from Jack, which contains a painting, which Abby finds to be radioactive. Gibbs interviews a man who introduces himself as an agent of the US Department of Homeland Security (DoHS). Abby learns that the slugs in Jack's body match a handgun used in an unsolved murder in Arizona two years ago; Gibbs and Tony go to Arizona and meet the artist. The real agent of the DoHS shows up in the squad bay; McGee alerts Gibbs, who, while on horseback with Tony, soon receives gunfire from a helo, and they return fire and crash the bird. Gibbs and Tony rescue the artist from harm, and they and the rest of the gang finish putting together the pieces of what happened.

NCIS Season 6 Episode 17
South by Southwest V1.0 LOL

Synchro: ?AkaZab? & Gaillots.

Rereading: Bruno & Magic Turtle.

Where is McGee?

I don't know.

He's been acting distracted lately.
Gibbs is on his case.

I have noticed.

So...

did you know
Special Agent Patterson?

Not really.

Met him in a crime scene training
class at FLETC. Seemed like a nice guy.

Give McGee a call.

Tell him we're waiting.

I have a message.

Good afternoon, I'm calling from
Hubbard & Hubbard, solicitor's office...

Sorry. There was
an accident on MacArthur.

Let's go.

That was strange.

A law firm in London
wants me to call.

- Says it's important.
- What could they want?

I don't know.
Maybe it's about my Uncle Clive.

Remember that funeral
I went to last month?

Your uncle really died?

I thought you were making that up
to get some time off.

Who do you think I am?

He was Agent Afloat
on the George Washington.

It returned to Norfolk two days ago.

You notified Director Vance?

Yeah.

It's way after midnight in Singapore.
I send up an e-mail.

Sorry, boss. Got hung up in traffic.

911 came from the pastry chef
at the restaurant on the corner.

He was in the kitchen when he heard
the screech of tires. Ran out.

Caught sight of
a dark-colored SUV racing away.

He did not here any shots. Silencer?

Or a small-caliber weapon
that doesn't make much noise.

Ducky said
the entry wounds were small.

Yeah. One shot was behind the ear,
close-range.

Professional hit.

You might want to take
a look at this.

DiNozzo, bring him in.

Homeland Security.
Got it.

Tony, why'd you cover for me?

Did I?

This is Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS.
Please call me back...

Patterson never got a shot off.
The mag's full.

Boss, I reached his office.

Voice mail. Left a message.

DiNozzo,
cell phone on the back of the card.

Good eye.

I don't know
how I could have missed that.

Bartholomew Lemming,
this is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Special Agent Gibbs, I got a woman
who insists on talking to you.

Claims she's with NCIS.
Real weirdo.

Wearing a Dracula cape
and dog collar.

Like she'd be with you.

She is.

You serious?

Oh, yeah. Let her in.

Sorry about that.
Go ahead.

What are you doing here?

Is that him?

Is that Jack Patterson?

What are you doing here?

This is terrible.

- Abby...
- This is all my fault.

Gibbs, he was coming to see me.

Agent Jack Patterson.
It's not what I thought he'd look like.

Said you knew him.

We had a very special
phone relationship.

He would mail me forensic evidence,
I'd e-mail him back results.

He'd call me, I'd call him.

He never forgot my birthday...

like you did last year.

I don't know. It's his voice.
He sounded...

shorter,

blonder, with a mustache.

You got all that
from his voice, Abs?

You sounded different
when you had a mustache.

Well, why was he coming to see you?

He said he wanted
to show me something.

What?

I don't know.

He wanted to meet up last night.

And I... I put him off.

I told him to come this morning.

Gibbs, if...

if I had just met up with him last
night, he'd probably be alive right now.

Well, it's a little after 10:00
in the morning here.

I can be reached on my cell at any time.
You did write that number down?

Good. Tell Mr. Hubbard

that I anxiously await his call,

and you have yourself
a very nice day

or night,
or whatever time it is there.

Okay,

cheerio.

I suppose that was for my benefit.

Okay, I'll bite.

Are you in the will?

McProbie,

we can only assume, right?

That was his secretary.

Mr. Hubbard, my...

great-uncle's solicitor
wasn't available, but...

she did confirm that...

he represents Uncle Clive's estate.

Clive DiNozzo.

Clive Paddington.
It's my mother's side.

- We talking big money?
- Huge money!

I mean, Jed Clampett money.

I'm talking Texas gold.

It's actually North Sea oil money.

I take it you were close
to the old gent.

I spent my 17th summer in Blighty.

Uncle Clive was my mentor.

Kind of like Al Pacino
and Chris O'Donnell

in Scent of a Woman.

Guessing the opposite sex
was involved.

He could sniff out
a gorgeous woman and

close the deal faster
than anyone I ever met.

I'm more concerned
about closing that case.

I'm working on it, boss.

Right...

The George Washington returned
from a six-month

deployment to South
and Central America.

Special Agent Patterson was
still living on board in Norfolk.

Was looking for an apartment. No one
knew he left the ship and was in D.C.

Ten years in the Navy,
joined NCIS in '98.

He had a setback in 2003.

Spent some time on the beach
for use of excessive force.

Never married.
Only immediate family:

a mother and a sister living
in Wheeling, West Virginia.

Special Agent Gibbs,

Bartholomew Lemming,
Homeland Security.

Call me Bart, Agent Gibbs.

We're in the conference room.

My life is about to change.

Thinks he's about
to inherit a fortune.

Oh! Yeah.

Oh. Yeah.

Okay, as soon as I can. Sorry.

Blockbuster. Rosemary's Baby,
it's overdue.

I met Jack Patterson

shortly after I joined
Homeland Security.

I was assigned to Customs
Border Protection Division.

He was working out of the NCIS
Resident Agency in Yuma, Arizona, so

we coordinated on incursions
and smuggling cases.

- The last time you heard from him?
- He left me a message last night.

I was gonna call him
when I got to the office this morning.

Said he was working a case and he found
something he wanted to show me.

Yeah.

What did he want to show you?

What's he working on?

I don't know.

Jack and I were friendly in Yuma.

You know how it goes.
We lost contact with one another.

How did he die?

Shot.

Think he was on his way here.

And he had my business card
in his hand. Why?

You tell me.

We had some good times.

Jack could put them down.
He knew how to party.

We were single then.

Took the plunge last year.

What can I do to help?

I don't know yet.

You have my cell number.
That's the best way to reach me.

I'm in the field this week.

Well, joint Threat Assessment
Task Force with the FBI.

I wish you luck with that.

You know, we always said that,

we would meet someday.

This isn't exactly what I expected.

God, this is awkward.

When you called me last night,
you sounded...

you know, excited.

Said you had to see me.

I thought you meant a date.

I mean, did you want to go out

or was it something else?

Was I just jumping
to conclusions? I...

God, I didn't know
what to say to Gibbs.

Oh, no, are you behind me, Gibbs?

You flatter me, Abby.

There was just... there was something
I needed to ask Special Agent Patterson.

What?

You talk to dead people
all the time.

Well, I have my reasons.

Their bodies tell me a great deal.

It helps to reciprocate.

But we have work to do.

I need the slugs.

You'll get them...

in due time.

Patterson was supposed to be finishing
up paperwork on the deployment.

I have no idea
why he was in Washington.

He's NCIS, don't you know?

Anything unusual happen
during the deployment?

Well, 6,500 men and women,

six months, seven tropical ports,
the usual.

Alcohol, fighting, petty thefts.

All in Patterson's daily activity log...
nothing major.

- Excuse me, Commander?
- Yes?

Could you identify these photos?

It's the last file Patterson
opened yesterday afternoon.

These images were downloaded
from a digital camera.

9-35-6-A.

That would be a forward
port-side storage area.

I spent four glorious months
aboard the Seahawk.

It was a rewarding experience.

This part of an investigation,
Commander?

It's a big ship,
on a cruise to South America.

A misguided sailor might think
he'll be able to smuggle drugs aboard.

I'm not getting a signal down here.

You expecting a call, DiNozzo?

They'll leave a message.

Patterson
and I worked well together.

He understood
the demands on the X.O.

Usually didn't come to me
until he had something.

Well, if you were thinking of smuggling
something, this'd be

the perfect hiding place.

Check it out.

Boss, it's, it's pretty late.

This could take hours, and then it's
a long drive back to Washington.

Most of the crew's on leave.
You'll find a place to bunk.

Perfect.

22-caliber.

This one's in pristine shape.

I like pristine.

Hey, Roy.

U.S. mail.

You mean overnight carrier.

No, no, U.S. mail.
Someone dropped this in the mailbox.

No postage.

'Cause it was addressed to NCIS,
the postal inspector gave us a call.

It's addressed to me?
Well, you could say that.

It's a credit card receipt.

It's Jack Patterson.

Did the... postal inspector say
where it was mailed from?

400 block of K Street.

That's where Patterson was killed.

So...

he knew he was in jeopardy, and
his last desperate act was to mail this?

He wanted this to get to me
even he didn't.

He died getting me this?

There has to be a reason
he sent it to you.

I don't know.

I mean, maybe he guessed
the little girl looked like me, or...

No, that's... stupid.

I don't know.

You ever talk about art?

When you weren't talking about forensic
evidence, what'd you talk about?

Well, that's personal.
I feel like you're interrogating me.

I am.

Okay, she's reading a book.
The book got a title?

Abby, Patterson died
getting this to you.

I know.

This is totally weirding me out.

All right,
you said you had a match on the slug.

Yeah.

Okay.

The one on the left is one
that Ducky took from Patterson.

I ran it through the NIBIN database.

It's an exact match
to the one on the right,

which was used...

in the unsolved murder of a businessman
in Scottsdale, Arizona, two years ago.

What are you doing in there?

Our jobs.

I'm looking for contraband.

I found this.

You are looking good.

- What have we here?
- We?

Where were you, when I'm down there
banging my head, huh?

Skinning my knees?

I was up on the flight deck,
trying to get a cell signal.

I've been playing phone tag
with Uncle Clive's solicitor.

Screw your Uncle Clive.
You haven't done anything all morning.

What's with you, McCranky?

You need to chillax.

You want me to chillax?

You want me to chillax?

I will chillax when you tell me
that you have done something!

I have done something.

I went over Special Agent Patterson's
e-mails and daily activity log.

Four days ago, he did
a background check on a...

Seaman Richard Zell.

He's had him under surveillance
since Panama. Zell...

is one of only three people
with the access code to...

this storage bay.

Where's Seaman Zell now?

According to the ship's duty
roster log,

he's due back on board in an hour.

- You make anything of it?
- Yeah. I'm aware of the artist.

Dina Risi.

I admired her work in Yuma.

I should've bought it then.
I can't afford it now.

Any idea why Patterson
would've sent it to our lab?

I've been trying to make
a connection between the painting

and Jack, but I can't.

That was a Scottsdale
homicide detective...

it made his day
when I told him the weapon

that killed Special Agent Patterson was
the same one that was used in the murder

of a local businessman
by the name of...

Hamilton Cooper.

They have not had any movement
on the case in the past two years.

He is e-mailing me their case file.

You think his death had anything
to do with the time

he and I were stationed in Yuma?

Do you?

Well, we did some joint operations.
I'll make some phone calls,

go back through the files,
see what I can dig up.

Uncle Clive's primary residence
is this manor house

that's just outside
of Henley on Thames.

You have to come and visit sometime.

In the summer, they have these...
annual regattas.

It's absolutely smashing.

Tony, shut up.

"What I wouldn't give
for a sock full of horse manure."

La-di-da!

Look at you,
fancy-pants-movie-reference.

Annie Hall, 1977.

Really Woody Allen's best.

Did I tell you about Clive's...

muse in London?
Really?

Do you have any idea
how insufferable you are?

What are you doing?

You're dripping paint
all over the place.

Look, you see what you're doing there?
Look at what I'm doing, okay?

Watch. You do...

even strokes.

You see that?
Nice, even strokes.

We're pretend painting, McGoo.

Keep that away from me.

NCIS.

Put your hands behind your head,
spread your legs.

God!

I don't need this crap!

I'm about to be a very wealthy man.

I fumed it with cyanoacrylate.

There's dozens of prints.

So far I've been able to I.D. two:

Special Agent Patterson
and Roy from our mail room.

So many prints, so little time.
But...

I tried something else.

How long do you think it takes
ballpoint pen ink to dry?

Like, really, really dry.

Four to five days.

I removed the clear plastic window
from the carton,

and I coated
the inside with a solvent,

lifting the ink residue left
by the original sender's mailing label.

I heat-transferred it
to a clean piece of paper,

then I scanned it...

What's it say?
I can't make it out.

I'm not done yet, Gibbs.

And I ran it through
an enhancement program.

The package was sent
to Patterson from the artist,

Dina Risi.
And there's her phone number.

Give yourself an atta-girl.

- Atta-girl.
- Atta-girl.

You get anywhere with the painting?

Never enough for you, Gibbs, is it?

Went right to voice mail...
she's got her phone turned off.

You know we've got you for drugs...

and assaulting a Federal Officer.

So why don't you tell me...

what was going down
between you and Agent Patterson.

Yeah, I punched him.

Yeah.

Yeah, the coke is mine.

But I told you, it's a big ship,

I didn't know Patterson.

Well, he knew you.

Had you under surveillance
since the ship left Panama.

He may have killed
Special Agent Patterson, but

Seaman Zell could not have
killed the Arizona businessman.

According to his service records,

he was aboard a frigate

on his way to the Persian Gulf
at the time of the murder.

Tell me why you didn't.

I was just trying
to make a couple bucks.

Could you live on an E-3 salary?

- What did you pay for the coke?
- $2,000.

I'm going home to Brooklyn
on leave next week.

On the street, I can get 20.

Well, you'll be lucky
if you get 25...

years for murder.

His alibi for yesterday morning
checks out.

Patterson was shot at 5:40 A.M.

30 minutes later, Seaman Zell

was with drawing $40
from an ATM on the base at Norfolk.

That's 200 miles away.

Even you couldn't drive
that fast, boss.

Based on the amount
of drugs involved,

we're pretty sure
that Seaman Zell was working alone.

So I don't have a serious smuggling
problem aboard the Washington.

A new NCIS Agent will be assigned
this week. He'll follow up.

What's to follow up?

I thought you said Seaman Zell
didn't have any connection

to Special Agent Patterson's death.

It's an ongoing investigation.

We're returning him to your command.

Suggest you put him in
pre-trial confinement.

He say anything?
Feel like the guy's got an agenda?

- What do we got?
- McGee, tell him about the e-mail.

Doesn't sound like Patterson
shared Commander Weidman's feelings

about them working well together.

Patterson told the captain in an e-mail
that he felt Weidman

was obstructing
some of his investigations.

- Got a call into the captain.
- Gibbs, Dina Risi, the artist,

she's starting to be recognized
outside Arizona.

Had a showing
in San Francisco in December.

She specializes in landscape.

She grew up in Italy,

studied art in Milan,
moved to Arizona about ten years ago.

Dina Risi's always been
very outspoken on ecological issues.

I did talk to the local sheriff...

guy by the name of Clay Boyd.

And he said that he was looking for her,
but she,

well, she just disappeared.

- Disappeared?
- Disappeared.

Like she just fell off
the face of the earth.

He talks just like that.
That's how he talks.

I won't though.
Says that she has a remote,

mountain retreat where likes to go and
paint, but he doesn't know where it is.

- Find it, McGee.
- Think I did, boss.

I only used Risi paintings that have
distinctive geographical landmarks.

Compared them
to Google Earth satellite images.

These locations correspond
to backgrounds in her paintings.

They're all within a four-mile
radius of Mount Pinos.

Searched the area,
only found one structure.

This was taken six months ago.

Good. See if she's there.

Piece of cake, Probie.

A Ferrari.
599 GTB.

You are counting
your eggs before they are laid.

Operative word is "laid".

- Wouldn't drink that.
- Sure I've had worse.

- What do you have?
- I know who's at the center of this.

Dina Risi, the artist.

Get this: I talked to a bartender
at a place Jack and I used to hang.

After I left Arizona,
Jack used to come in with her.

Bartender hinted they were
a lot more than just friends.

Might explain why Dina Risi
sent Patterson the painting.

You talk to her yet?

No. She went into hiding.
We may have a location though.

- Mount Pinos.
- That's the badlands.

Good luck finding her up there.

I'm e-mailing the lawyer in London.

All right?
The suspense is killing me.

I did not ask.

I have the Scottsdale Police report

on the murder of Hamilton Cooper,
the local businessman.

- Anything?
- Yes.

He was worth $20 million.

Investigators suspected
his wife hired a hit man.

She was conveniently out of town.

Shooter used a .22,
multiple hits to the body.

One to the head,
right behind the ear.

Just like Patterson.

Well, I guess that lets
Commander Weidman off the hook.

Boss.
Tasked an NSA satellite.

I got an infrared image
of the cabin here.

Heat signature from the fireplace.
Somebody's there.

Ziva, you and McGee
work the case from here.

DiNozzo, go home, pack.

- Where am I going?
- We're going to Arizona.

Okay.

Arizona and I don't get along.

- Sheriff Boyd?
- Yes, sir.

Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.

Hey. Special Agent DiNozzo.
How are you?

Is that an Italian name?

- What?
- Any word on Dina Risi?

Nope.
We tried all our sources.

- No one seems to know where she went.
- You know her?

Well, I met her.
She was chained to a tree.

I was the one
with the bolt cutters and handcuffs.

Let me show you
where we're aiming to go, Sheriff.

We think she's in a small cabin in...
this area here.

Are you expecting to go to a dance while
you're here in town, Agent DiNozzo?

Why don't we take our four-wheeler.
You know, the rental.

You can't get up there in a vehicle.

Only way to get up there is horses.

Why don't we just
requisition a helicopter?

Or not. If the government spent
that kind of money every time

they interviewed somebody,
government would go broke?

The government is broke.

That was security.
Bart Lemming is on his way up.

Maybe he's got something for us.

- That could be London.
- Answer it.

What, and have
Tony harass me some more

about my message-taking skills?
No, thank you.

- I'll get it.
- Why?

You're gonna tell them he's not here,
they're not gonna tell you anything.

I think you are jealous
Tony's going to inherit money.

No, I just think
that it could change him.

Which in Tony's case
would be a good thing.

Unless he becomes more...

Tony-ish.

I see your concern.

But you did not change
when your books made you plush.

Flush.

Thanks, Ziva,
but it really wasn't that much.

I bought my car,
bought some clothes.

What was left over, I put
in a hedge fund which just crashed.

Sorry.

That is why you've been
so distracted lately.

It shows?

Easy.

You ever saddled a horse, DiNozzio?

Me?
Saddle?

- No, not really.
- You have ridden, ain't you?

Sure. Oh, yeah.
Eighth birthday party.

Pony rides and-and-and...
stuff like that.

Well, this should be interesting.
Yeah. Give me that. Give me that.

Here you go. I got it.

It's a lot of leather.
Here we go.

I'm looking
for Special Agent DiNozzo.

He is away
from the office right now.

He left me a message while I was
on vacation, said it was urgent.

I returned his call,
but I haven't heard from him.

And you are?

Boss, we've got a problem.

Bartholomew Lemming
from OHS is here.

What's the problem?

It's the real Bartholomew Lemming.

The guy that we've been dealing with
is an impostor.

He planted the business card
on his body,

knowing whoever investigated
the murder would call.

Yeah. Well, we did.

And I briefed him
on the investigation.

Well, the guy's good, boss.

Probably knew Lemming
was on vacation.

It's like Nicholson in Chinatown,
you know? He used a stolen business card

to make everyone think he was
from the Department of Water and Power.

- Maybe he left his print on the card.
- Abby's on it.

McGee's running facial recognition
against NCIS security videos.

Let's go!

Excuse me, boss.

Hey, no, no. Come on around here.

- Is there a step ladder or anything?
- No. Go ahead, get up.

- No, left foot.
- DiNozzo, come on!

I'm on my way, boss.

You don't want to get
on his bad side, do you?

You're a good judge of character,
Sheriff.

Oh, boy.

There you go.

He's going.

He's going.

No! Sheriff...

I think he lost a contact.

We X-rayed the painting
that Patterson sent me,

but we couldn't get a clear image.
It was foggy.

Did it four times,
thought it was the equipment.

- I was about to call the technician...
- Then I got an idea.

Radioactive.

It's the paint.

Dina Risi goes
to the extremes of mixing

her paints and pigments
with indigenous substances,

- much like the Mayans did.
- She used clay

containing metallic elements
occurring in pitchblende.

Also referred to as uraninite,

which is processed
into purified uranium dioxide,

UO2,

also used in manufacturing...

Nuclear weapons.

Gibbs's satellite.

I already tried calling him.
You're not gonna get ahold of him.

It's ringing.

It's not the painting,
it's the paint.

The little girl, the dead steer,
the book, none of it means anything.

I mean, well, I'm sure it meant
something to the artist, but...

- Slow down. What are you trying to say?
- Patterson.

The painting that he sent me.

It wasn't about the image.

The paint is radioactive.

Uraninite,
used to make nuclear weapons.

Dina Risi, she must have known.

That's why she sent
the painting to Patterson.

Transfer me to McGee.

I haven't heard from you.

We're still running facial recognition
on the fake Bartholomew Lemming.

I am going to expand
the search to Interpol.

But based on your suggestion,
we did lift a right forefinger

and thumbprint from the carafe our
impostor used in the conference room.

- Did you get a hit?
- No. He doesn't have a record.

I want a name, McGee!

He says hi!

You know, the sun's starting to set.

This would be a good place to camp.

No, sir.

- No, sir. I want to keep pushing on.
- This mountain at night,

the trail starting to narrow,
big drop-offs.

You got a tenderfoot.

No, we camp.

Can you get nerve damage
in your buttocks?

You're gonna feel worse
in the morning.

Don't say that, boss.

- Beans?
- Yeah. Thanks.

"Mongo like beans."

Mongo.

Mongo.
Blazing Saddles.

Mel Brooks, genius.

What the heck is he talking about?

I'm okay.

I mean, I'll skip the beans, Sheriff.
Thanks for not offering, though.

I got an energy bar at the airport,
so I'm good.

What time is it in London, DiNozzo?

It's 3:00 am.

Six hours till I can make the call.

You're not gonna be
with this agency much longer?

You get that inheritance,
maybe you think about retiring.

That's yours.

I would get that, boss,
but I got a cramp in my leg.

- Yeah, Gibbs.
- We played a hunch.

If Bart is a professional hit man,

he would be on his way to Arizona
to silence Dina Risi.

The woman who knows too much.

We checked all flights
from the D.C. area the last 24 hours,

and I think we found something.

A corporate jet filed a flight plan
from Washington Executive

Hyde Field to a small airport 50 miles
from Mount Pintos.

- It landed two hours ago.
- Whose plane?

It's registered to the Sunset Mining
Corporation of Phoenix, Arizona.

Get some sleep.

- Ever heard of Sunset Mining?
- Yeah.

- Who are they?
- Just a slick bunch out of Phoenix.

- They got mines around here?
- Not yet, no.

What's that supposed to mean?

Negotiating.

Negotiating for what?

Mineral rights.

To an abandoned gold mine.

It's a waste of time, though.

I got more gold in my mouth
than is in that whole shaft.

Dina and her tree huggers,
they're fighting them.

Claim that Sunset Mining...

will rape public lands.

She knows
they're not looking for gold.

That's what valley fever is about,
you know.

I mean,
I'm not afraid of getting it again.

It's just that, you know,
Arizona is a dangerous place.

- And, can we stop soon?
- Just up ahead.

That one hit me where I live.

Dina, stop shooting.

This is Sheriff Boyd.

- How did you find me?
- I didn't.

These Feds did.
They're with the Navy.

NCIS.

Jack Patterson told me not
to talk to anyone but him.

Yeah, well, Jack Patterson's dead.

I mix my own pigments.

As the base of my earth tones,
I use clay...

that I found near the old mine.

When did you suspect
the paint was radioactive?

About a month ago.

I wasn't feeling well.

My doctor ran blood tests.

Told me I was exposed to radiation.

So that's what made me suspect
Sunset Mining

was interested
in the mineral rights.

Not for gold, but for uranium.

- You tell anyone?
- I started asking questions.

Thought I was discreet, but,

I started getting paranoid.
Felt I was being followed.

Didn't know who to trust.

Called Jack.

Patterson told you
to send the painting?

Yeah.

He said he'd have it check out.

If the mine is a major source
of uranium,

it could be worth billions
to Sunset Mining.

Worth killing for.

How did Jack die?

He was shot on his way to see us.

We're pretty sure
it was a professional hit.

It's not safe up here.

We got to get down the mountain.

Great. Just when I was getting the
feeling back in my lower extremities.

You know, you might want to let go
of that horn, junior.

Riding a horse is like making love.

You got to relax and enjoy it.

Sheriff, I have a strong feeling
that you and I enjoy both

of those activities in really
different ways, no disrespect.

Boss, we've got you on satellite here
and MTAC. You've got company.

There's an aircraft moving low
over the landscape.

- What direction?
- West.

It is closing in on you.

- Head for the rocks.
- What's going on?

Go! Move! Move!

Go!

Keep going! Go!

The rocks. Take cover.

All right.

Behind the rocks.

Boss, he's coming back!

I'm all right, Gibbs.

Get the Henry.
It pulls to the right.

Boss, you okay?

Boss?!

Yeah. I'm fine here.

Well, take it easy, Sheriff.

Now we've got to round up the horses.
How do you do that?

Howdy, partner.
Welcome back to the fort.

I'm surprised you can sit down.

You humor me, Tim.

That lawyer call?

Tony was notified
he would be calling at 9:00.

That is just a couple minutes away.

Yes, it is.

- How's the sheriff, boss?
- He's going to be fine.

Driving the nurses nuts.

FBI lifted
a thumbprint off of his body.

Real name is Jerome Sax.

Lived in Oregon.
Had a wife and two kids.

That's my future calling. Excuse me.

Yes, Mr. Hubbard.
How are you, sir?

He was a little league coach,
deacon of his church.

Wife thought he was a factory rep

who traveled out of town
on company business.

So far, Ballistics tie him
to four unsolved murders.

- They think there'll be more.
- That is unbelievable!

The Phoenix D.A.'s
investigating Sunset Mining.

Three executives are expected
to be indicted for the involvement

in the death of Special Agent Patterson,
and the mining scam.

Okay, well, thank you very much.

Yes, thank you very much.

All right. See you, pal.

Did...
Uncle Clive leave a big estate?

Huge!

24 million pounds!

That's over $35 million.

Yes! Yes, it is!

Yes, it is!

And he left it all
to my sniveling cousin Crispian.

I mean, I'll give you,
granted he did take care of Uncle Clive

when he was ill,
and he gave a very moving eulogy.

Why is the lawyer calling you?

When I was in college, I borrowed
$10,000 from Uncle Clive, and,

I guess I signed an IOU.

I don't really remember, but Crispian
says that he found this document.

Said "IOU", and that I owe him

that $10,000 plus compounded
interest over the last 20 years.

Do you know how much that is,
by the way?

I am sorry for your loss.

It's only money.