NCIS (2003–…): Season 7, Episode 13 - Jet Lag - full transcript

(horns honking)

(door opens)

(sighs)

Ay, Dios mio.

Mr. Parsons, this time
it's going to cost you extra.

(heavy sigh)

(clattering in distance)

Hello?

Mr. Parsons?

- (cat screeches)
- ?Maldiga gato!

What are you doing in there?

(cat yowls)

Mr. Parsons.

- (chuckles)
- Agent McGee.

Hello, Director.

Agents DiNozzo and David.

They were supposed to contact me

before they left
with our witness.

I should have gotten a call
by now.

Yeah, their flight was delayed.

Are you sure about that?

Paris can be very hard to leave.

Not for them, no.

Tony and Ziva don't like
traveling together much.

Actually, they don't
like doing much

of anything together.

I think it's safe to say

that they're not enjoying
themselves very much right now.

SECNAV wants that witness here
by tomorrow morning.

Where the hell are they?

(Vespa scooter whirring)

Bonjour, McGee.

Oh, everything's fine.

We are leaving for the airport

as soon as Tony returns
from seeing the sights.

- Here.
- Finally.

Okay, McGee. Um, au revoir.

Tell McGee I love Paree.

Why don't you tell him yourself
when you get back?

We must pick up our witness
at the embassy.

- Come on.
- Whoa, whoa.

Hold your horses.

(sighs)
You know, one day

just isn't enough
in this town, is it?

I get why artists love it.

Something about the light.

Picasso, Rodin.

Cancan girls
at the Moulin Rouge.

This is not a vacation, Tony.

Mmm.

But it is a beautiful day.

Why are you
in such a pleasant mood?

What's wrong with you?

I slept well last night.

Why, didn't you?

You certainly looked...

comfy enough.

(chuckles)

Paris. France.

I mean, it's really not
what I thought it would be.

You know?

Of course, all I had to go on
was a French arms dealer

and his rather fetching
daughter.

C'est la vie.

That's French for something.

"That's life."

Let's go.

Vite, vite.

- Apr?s vous.
- Ha.

Here we go. Hop on.

I'm getting pretty good at this.

(engine revving)

(sighs)

(giggles)

Flight is scheduled
to depart Paris at 16:30.

- Keep me posted.
- Grab your stuff, McGee.

We're going on a trip
of our own.

Someplace exotic?

Oh, yeah.

Downtown.

- Just the two of us, boss?
- GIBBS: Nope.

You, me, Ducky,

and a dead Marine.

Sergeant Mark Parsons.

Marine... Special

- Ops Command.
- I feel it

only appropriate,
that in Agent DiNozzo's absence,

I make an observation
about this unique crime scene.

Go for it, Duck.

A terrified Janet Leigh.

And the inability to enter
the shower for several weeks.

It's a reference
to the film Psycho.

There, feel better now?

Yeah.

Yes, apart from these
feline scratches,

I see no obvious signs
of trauma.

Got a time of death?

Rigor has resolved itself.

Postmortem lividity is fixed,

and I see several fly ova

in his nostrils and ears.

Ergo, this man succumbed

between 36 and 48 hours ago.

- Killer got a head start.
- Yeah.

No doubt that was the intention.

The sodium silicate
in crystal-based kitty litter

is a very effective
odor absorber,

thereby preventing the smell

from alerting the neighbors.

Apart from the housekeeper,
he might have lain there

undiscovered for days.

Time to change the box.

Boss,

I finished processing

the, uh, rest of the condo.

No signs of a struggle.

And there were quite a few
high-dollar items

left out in plain sight.

Not a robbery.

Which begs another mystery.

Yeah, how does an E-5 Marine
making three grand a month

manage to live like this?

Precisely.

You know, I did find
a safe bolted

- inside a living room cabinet.
- Let's go.

Let's open it.

Seat 9-A.

Oh.

Finally, I get to catch up
on my reading.

Nora, for a whistle-blower
on a major defense fraud scam,

you seem awfully relaxed.

I have faith in you
to protect me.

ZIVA: Well, most
of our material witnesses

are frightened parasites.

I wish all the people
we dealt with

were as nice as you.

- I'm nice.
- Ha!

I just came across
a wrong in the world

that I could help make right.

Oh. Wow.

We're protecting Hayley Mills.

You know, Pollyanna.

Disney classic
with a happy ending.

Hmm, I like those.

Tony prefers Bambi,
where the mother dies.

And I'm not the nice one?

(chuckles)

That must be him.

Excuse me?

NCIS.

Been looking for you.

I'm Agent David.

That is Agent DiNozzo.

And she is our witness.

Federal Air Marshal Art Neeley.

I already got a head count

and I cross-checked
the passenger list

with federal offender databases.

All clear for takeoff.

CAPTAIN (over P.A.): We've
been cleared to leave the gate.

We'll be getting under way
just as soon

as everyone's in their seat,
with their seat belt fastened.

Thank you.

Excuse me. If you wouldn't
mind taking your seat,

we're ready to pull
away from the gate.

I'm also ready for my hot towel.

First class only, sir.

Sorry.

And they say the stimulus
is working.

Real friendly.

Up here in first class.

Oh, sorry, business.
Business class.

(whirring)

All right, I think we're ready.

GIBBS:
What do we got?

Uh...

McGEE: Watches.
Beautiful ones.

These look very expensive, boss.

The folders, McGee.

Ah, yes.

Newspaper clippings.

All pertaining to a murder
investigation in New York City.

The death of real estate mogul
Sam Thoresen six months ago.

Home invasion,
nothing was stolen.

NYPD suspected
a professional hit.

Case is still unsolved.

He was tracking
the investigation.

Why? And why keep it
locked in the safe?

Making sure he got away clean.

NYPD was right.

What, you thinking

our dead Marine was moonlighting
as a hit man?

Well, he had a new assignment.

Passport information.

Employment records.
Bank statements.

Unused round-trip

ticket to Paris.

Same flight Tony
and Ziva are on.

This isn't a scrapbook,
it's a dossier.

On his new target.

Nora Williams.

Our whistle-blower.

Our dead guy was going
to kill her.

McGEE:
Sergeant Mark Parsons.

Members of his special ops team

all said that he was a good
Marine but a Ioner.

No family.

No close friends.

Apparently,
our Marine-turned-hit man

really kept to himself.

The nature of the business.

Parsons was on leave

when the real estate mogul
was shot in New York.

If ballistics match the gun
we found in his safe,

we've solved that case.

Too bad it's not ours.

Well, Abby's processing

his prepaid burn phone.

Could lead us to whoever
hired him to kill our witness.

Or who killed him.

Parsons' dossier
on Nora Williams.

He knew she was living in Paris

and that we were sent to escort
her back to the States.

- Guy did his homework.
- He had all

of Nora's medical records,
phone records,

- info on family, friends.
- Fianc?.

Daniel Sturgis.

He and Nora are supposed
to be married in three months.

Oh, I'm gonna need
to talk to him.

He's already on his way.

It's the Paris case file
on Nora's testimony.

MAN:
I tried

to talk Nora out of testifying
against Beringer,

but she has this, uh,

infectious outlook
on life that...

Ray Beringer is her boss.

Owner of Beringer Marine,
Incorporated.

I told her... not a guy
you want to cross.

You also work for him.

At our DC headquarters,
here on the Navy Yard.

Uh, Nora and I met
in the accounting department,

before she was transferred
to the Paris branch.

Where she found the evidence

that Beringer was bilking
the Navy.

For millions.

When a Navy fleet makes port
in a foreign country,

any needed repairs

are done
by a local maintenance company.

Beringer Marine is
a major port presence.

At the receiving end
of a lot of contracts.

Navy was paying for repairs
that weren't even requested.

Until Nora found documents

proving that Beringer
was behind the whole thing.

Unfortunately,
those documents disappeared.

The only evidence that we have
is Nora's good memory.

Risking something coming here.

We got nothing on Beringer
without her testimony.

Which is why we'll make sure
that nothing happens to her.

Well, uh, can't you just
arrest him now?

For hiring someone to kill her.

Beringer doesn't know anything
about Nora's testimony

or the case against him.

It's still under wraps

until she meets
with the U.S. attorney.

He must have found out somehow.

That's difficult to prove.

Our best agents are with her.

(sighs)

I hope so.

She just wants
to do what's right.

Just sort of feel
like you can use negative space

to push the image, you know?

Sort of like a geometrical thing

with the light coming across.

I was trying to use
these sort of geometric

lines and spacing.

(sighs)
Sometimes I think maybe

I should have done something
more... creative with my life.

No, I think
you're in the right profession.

All right, Annie Leibovitz.

What's wrong with my pictures?

Okay, McGee, got it.
Bye.

Well, they're sort of
soulless, analytical.

They look like...
postcards or...

Crime scene photos.

You just need people in them.

Happy people.

Living people.

Otherwise,
they're just buildings.

Didn't you and Ziva go
sightseeing together?

(laughs)
No.

We had enough "together."

We shared a flight
and a hotel room.

Uh...

it was the only one available.

That's how me and my fianc? met.

On the job,
traveling on business.

Rule number 12.

What's rule number 12?

Our boss...
he has a list of rules.

Rule number 12 says you should
never date a coworker.

My understanding...
can't be done.

Should not be done.

How do you and your fianc?
make it work?

You two looking for advice?

- No.
- No.

No way.

We do not always get along.

Ever.

So, what was the phone call
all about?

Gibbs and McGee are working
on a case.

Why are they calling us?

In the air?

Does it have to do with me?

Is something wrong?

No.

Not anymore.

Basilica of the Sacred Heart.

That's where Daniel proposed
to me.

I'm gonna miss Paris,

but at least going to DC means
I get to see him.

DUCKY:
Gaston Leroux

came up with the idea
for The Phantom of the Opera

when the counterweight

of the great chandelier
came crashing down

and crushed a female patron.

The grand and noble facade
of the Paris Opera House,

hiding a dark
and ignoble secret within.

Uh, not unlike this fellow,
Jethro.

A honorable Marine
masquerading as a hit man.

Other way around, Duck.

You got any more metaphors?

Well, Leroux's book
is full of them.

He explores the dichotomy
between life and death,

truth and falsehood.

Ah, you got one.

Well, like the phantom,

this man's body
also masks a deformation.

You found the cause of death?

Indeed.

A fractured C-1 and 2 vertebrae.

Broke his neck?

There's an absence
of defensive wounds.

Uh, yes.

These fractures were caused
by a single, deliberate move.

Killer was precise?

And practiced.

Whoever killed
our Marine hit man was also

a trained professional.

Thanks, Duck.

Yeah, it's a long time
since I visited Paris.

Or-Or went to the theater,
for that matter.

You asking me on a date, Duck?

ABBY (over monitor):
Can I come, too?

GIBBS:
I'm on my way, Abbs.

I know, I know,

but this couldn't wait.

After processing everything
from our dead guy's condo,

I found extra nothing.

All totally wiped down.

Almost like it was...

- A pro job? Yeah, I know.
- ABBY: But

I ran the burn phone
from Parsons' safe.

He only received one call
from one number.

I traced it
to a residence in Bethesda.

Give me a name, Abby.

That's what I couldn't wait
to tell you, Gibbs.

The number belongs
to Holly Snow.

The Holly Snow.

Hello?

So you've heard of me,
Agent McGee?

(clears throat)

Uh, yes, yes, I have.

By reputation
and a few headlines.

You are DC madam
to the rich and powerful.

Talented, too.
At avoiding arrest.

You flatter me.

When did the love business turn
into the death business?

Excuse me?

Four days ago, you made a call
to Sergeant Mark Parsons.

It was right before
he was murdered.

A hit.

Killed by a pro.

I had nothing
to do with his death.

Yeah, we know that,

but you did hire him
to kill Nora Williams.

McGEE: Got a search warrant
for your office.

We found an online
pay account linking you

to several known
or suspected hit men.

This time, you were paying
for their services.

To kill.

Once a contractor...

Listen, I'm a matchmaker.

I connect people online.

I never know
what service is being provided.

I never ask.

You really think
a jury's gonna believe that?

All this money for sex.

It's not my money.

I'm not responsible for...

You're an accessory to murder.

You're providing a service.

You're more than responsible.

Who wanted Nora Williams dead?

Look, I don't know names.

But I can

give you the account that
they used to wire me the money.

Half a million dollars.

The numbers.

I don't give it away,
Agent Gibbs.

My services cost.

I'll take a plea deal.

I didn't offer one.

Well, I suggest you do.

And you might want
to be quick about it.

Why is that?

You said Parsons was killed
by another pro.

I can think of 500,000 reasons
why that might be.

These contracts
are not exclusive.

Render the service,

reap the reward.

And, um,

people can be, uh...

...competitive.

A hit man killed a hit man.

So, whoever gets the kill

gets the cash.

Okay, understood.

Thank you, Gibbs.

A team
of Homeland Security officers

will be waiting for us
when we land.

Outside the terminal,

an NCIS security detail
will take over.

Not taking any chances,

in case your new hit man tries
something on the ground, huh?

Which is why we must consider
the possibility

that they may try
something on the plane,

where Nora is more vulnerable.

You have reason
to believe they're on board?

Stationary target.

Close quarters.

(sighs)
Modern-day Orient Express.

Hmm. The killer would just need
an inconspicuous weapon.

Like what?

Listen, I've been doing this
for a while, and I doubt

there's anything...

Headphone cables make
for a perfect garrote.

And plastic silverware is
not as safe as you may think.

I once killed a man
using a credit card.

(sighs)

I have been watching a guy.

Row 16.

Couple of rows behind

that girl knitting.

Aisle seat.

He's got his earphones on.

Manifest listed him
as Steven Baker.

He's been ignoring the flight
attendants and refused

anything to eat or drink, but

he's gone to the lavatory
four times already.

It might be nothing, but...

We cannot take any chances.

- Watch him.
- Mm-hmm.

(coughing):
Oh, come on! I just got up.

CAPTAIN: We are experiencing
a little turbulence,

so please,
everyone return to your seats...

(passengers exclaiming)

We'll let you know when it's
safe to move about the cabin.

- You all right?
- Yeah.

TONY:
Oh... look, a Slanket.

- She looks comfortable.
- Yeah.

Something I am not.

(captain's announcement
repeating in French)

How much longer
till we get there?

(laughs)

Hours and hours.

Drink, ma'am?

Oh, no, I don't think so,
Mr. Spock.

Uh, is there a problem, sir?

(imitating French accent):
Eh, no.

Then can I have some water?

STEWARD:
That is what this is.

- Bring us some new water.
- Excuse me?

I would like you
to bring us a fresh bottle

of new water,
and open it in front of us.

(quietly):
Sorry.

Got another one
for the watch list.

That one?

- Hmm.
- Yeah, he's already on it.

Well, merci beaucoup.

Live long and prosper.

Of course.

You think someone's really
trying to kill me, don't you?

Is that a little bit of rain

in your sunny worldview,
Mary Poppins?

(laughs)

Revealing the true nature
of the world isn't going

to change who I am,
Agent DiNozzo.

(scoffs)

Maybe it's 'cause I'm in love,

but I don't think
people are bad at heart.

VANCE:
U.S. Attorney's Office is

dragging their feet
on the Holly Snow deal.

Why?

Higher-ups are a little
reluctant about getting into bed

with somebody that keeps
a little black book.

It might be opening up
a can of worms.

- Let's talk about murder here,
Leon. - We'll get it.

She's asking for the world,
and they'll get it.

- It takes time.
- Out of time.

That flight lands, I want
to know who we're looking for.

McGee, go.

Well, assuming
that our new hit man

has the same flight information
our dead hit man had,

been running background
on every passenger on the plane.

And?

No red flags,
but there is one problem.

Air marshal.

McGEE:
Art Neeley.

He was not originally assigned
to the flight.

Requested an earlier departure
from Paris.

TSA denied the request,

so he switched duty assignments
with someone else.

Really wanted to be
on this particular flight.

Four days ago, where was he?

According to his flight
schedule, Air Marshal Neeley

was in DC when Sergeant Parsons
was murdered.

Get Ziva on the phone.

If Neeley is involved,
we don't want to spook

the only other guy on that plane
that's got a gun.

I think you got the wrong bag.

You have a good eye.

Hey, Ziva, I found your book.

Thank you.

Still studying
American history, huh?

(imitates snoring)

I just finished, uh,
The Twilight Saga.

I've been suggesting it to her.

It's very romantic.

Excuse me.

I just finished book four

if you want to borrow it.

Team Edward.

(sighs)

Everything okay?

Not really.

She picked his pocket.

One of the good guys
might not be.

Psst.

Honey.

Call Abby, ask her to run

Neeley's incoming
and outgoing calls.

On it, bossy.

(chuckles)

What?

You guys say
you don't get along,

but you make a great team.

It is not always so smooth,
believe me.

She's usually much snarkier.

I think Paris changed her.

Boss, I just got a call
from Navy Yard security.

There's been an incident
at Beringer Marine.

What happened?

Nora's fianc? Daniel
attacked Ray Beringer.

I lost my temper.

You took
some candy-cane cheap shot

at our prime suspect.

It wasn't smart.

I'm sorry.

After a staff meeting,

Beringer pulled me aside
and made a crack about Nora,

about her taking vacation time.

He's taunting me, Agent Gibbs.

Maybe.

It proves that he knows
about Nora, right?

I mean, this should help you.

He's the one

who hired someone to kill her.

You need to go home
and let us do our job.

(sighs)

It's just I... I feel helpless.

Kid's lucky I don't kick
his ass to the curb.

Base security already
handled the situation.

Why is NCIS here?

Nora Williams.

What about her?

You tell me.

I know she's a great employee

and that she's sleeping
with that naive jerk

who just clocked me.

Like I told security,
it was just a joke.

I like jokes.

Nora works for me
at our Paris office.

I heard she was taking
some... vacation time.

Now, accountants are supposed
to be good with figures, right?

So I asked Daniel if he was
going to get a chance...

(laughing): to use hers
while she was in town.

I didn't mean anything by it.

Unless I'm missing
something here.

The kid's still angry
Nora took the transfer to Paris,

took it out on me.

Are we done?

I got a company to run.

What did Abby find?

No connection
between our air marshal

and our dead Marine.

I still do not trust him.

We should at least take
his weapon.

If we are wrong,
we can apologize later.

Where is our federal flyboy?

ZIVA: Last time I saw him,
he was heading for the restroom.

He has been in there
for a while.

Oh.

Maybe it was that vacuum-packed
sushi for dinner.

I'm a little growly myself.

Remain in your seat.

Arty?

(knocking)

You get sucked in?

I'm gonna pick the lock.

There is no need.

His gun is missing.

Is this the queue?

Out of order.

Someone made
quite a mess in there.

McGEE: Well, technically
flying still is

the safest way to travel.

Yeah?

Tell that to him.

Turns out Neeley was divorced
with a 12-year-old daughter.

Requested the earlier flight
from Paris

to get home in time to see
his daughter's school play.

Well, we've got nothing
to tie Neeley

to the first dead hit man,
so why risk

murdering an air marshal
mid-flight?

Well, he could have stumbled
onto something,

got too close to our killer.

Or they just wanted his gun.

Either way...

Confirms our killer
is on that plane.

The closest airport
now is Dulles.

They land in two hours.

Heard you spoke to Ray Beringer.

Word travels.

Beringer made a call to SECNAV.

He has the impression
that NCIS is investigating him.

You had to shake that tree.

Needed something to drop, Leon.

Then you'll be pleased to know

that Holly Snow's
plea deal came through.

She's on her way back in.

Ladies and gentleman, if I could
have your attention, please.

Due to a mechanical issue,

the forward lavatory
is out of order.

We ask that you please use

one of the other facilities
on board.

Thank you.

(repeats announcement in French)

He's dead?

Someone killed him?

This is really happening,
isn't it?

He's on the plane.

So are we.

How did it happen?

It is not important.

l-I'd like to know.

A knitting needle.

They took it
from a sleeping passenger

and stabbed the air marshal
in the neck.

(sighs)

(sighs)
You are so direct,

so honest,
so different from him.

Tony and I have, um,
different approaches.

Yet complementary.

You sure you two never?

No. Positive.

Definitely no.

Why do you keep on asking
about Tony and I?

You're like me and Daniel...
a good fit.

Besides, Paris is
a romantic city,

and you guys shared
a room, so I...

I took the couch.

Otherwise, Tony would have
whined the entire flight

about his... his back.

TONY: Talk about a nightmare
at 20,000 feet.

(imitating William Shatner):
"There's something on the wing.

Some... thing."

Classic Shatner doing
The Twilight Zone there, Ducky.

I am well aware of that,
Anthony.

Well, thank goodness
for this in-flight Wi-Fi.

Does this qualify us
for, uh, mile-high club?

(chuckling):
Certainly not.

I am surprised

to hear that you are not
already a member.

I never said I wasn't.

Perhaps if you angled me
over and down a bit,

- I could get a better view of
his neck. - Right, right, right.

All right.

Roger, dodger, you got that?

Hmm, yes.

The use of the knitting needle
was both crude and effective.

He was aiming for the space
between the cervical vertebrae

in an endeavor, no doubt,
to sever the spinal cord.

Death would have been quick.

DUCKY:
And silent.

He could have unlocked the door,
jabbed in the needle,

and disappeared
with a minimum of fuss.

If only we had high resolution,
I could confirm that hypothesis.

All right,
hold on one second, Ducky.

I've got an idea.

Yeah.

Here we go.

You know, it looks like there's
a partial print on that needle.

Oh, no.

My memory card's full.

That means I have to delete
some of my photos from Paris.

If you have any of that pyramid

outside the Louvre, delete them.

That glass monstrosity is
an offense to good taste.

It's like Sophie's Choice.

"I can't choose."

Doubt our hit man thought
we could process

a mid-flight crime scene, Gibbs.

Need the advantage, Abbs.

Sorry.

It's, uh, kitty litter.

That stuff gets everywhere.

I haven't had time
to clean up yet.

(sighs)
See?

Ugh.

- What do you got?
- Um...

I have a bloody partial print
from the knitting needle.

- Can you use it? - Well,
it's not your typical method

of processing a print.

I have the added work
of enhancing the photo

and then translating the image

- (phone rings) -into a format
that AFIS can understand

before I can even begin
to search for a hit.

- Yeah. Gibbs.
- McGEE: Boss, the madam's here.

Yeah, I'll be right up.

Holly Snow.

- Can I go?
- No. Print.

Ugh.

The account clients use

to send you the money...
let's have it.

W-What, no foreplay,

no seduction?

My deal came through, then.

Just needs a judge's signature.

Hmm, well, why don't you
come back when you have it?

Deal's done.

United States Attorney approved.

You like it rough, don't you?

Well, there's a time and a place
for everything, Holly.

I thought so.

I'm usually pretty good
at reading people.

What they respond to.

Role-play?

No.

Hmm, too bad.

Want to help out
the next victim?

'Cause if she dies...

...this deal goes away.

And we add another charge.

Murder.

I can read people, too.

Account number.

(sighs)

How can she sleep now?

- To escape.
- Row 16.

Isn't that the guy
Neeley said was acting strange?

Yes.

Excuse me. Sir.

Stop.

(groaning)

Move again, and I'll break it.

Federal agents.

Everybody relax.

Return to your SkyMall.

MAN:
What the hell are you doing?

What are you doing?

I was just changing the battery

in my CD player
when I dropped one.

It rolled under the seats.

Nobody buys CDs anymore.

You have been acting strange
the entire flight.

Yes, well, I am a bit angry.

First, the airline refused
to seat me next to my wife,

and then no one would move
when I asked them to switch.

Selfish jerks!

Hey! Relax, Battery Boy.

Hold on.

Oh.

Huh.

Here you go.

(grunts, pants)

Why don't you return
to your seat?

(wheezing):
Ziva.

- What's wrong?
- Everybody, stay calm.

Tony!

Tony, she's in trouble!

- (wheezing)
- Oh, my God.

Is this what I think it is?

How did the killer get to her?

(phone ringing)

Autopsy.

TONY (over phone):
Ducky, we've got a situation

- with our witness.
- (Nora wheezing)

Anthony, I can barely hear you.

The reception's terrible.

You still on that plane?

Yeah. It's Nora.

She's had some kind of reaction.
It's bad.

What's her condition?

Describe the symptoms.

Well, she was sleeping,
and then...

I guess she woke up.

She was coughing and wheezing.

She collapsed,
her lips are blue,

and she's barely breathing.

Are her lips and tongue swollen?

Yeah.

You think it's poison?

No. It sounds to me
like a severe allergic reaction

- causing anaphylaxis.
- An allergy?

She needs an injection
of epinephrine, and quickly.

We need an EpiPen.

Her breathing's getting worse.

There isn't one here.

MAN:
Here. Take mine.

Tony, stop.

Can we trust him?
I mean,

what if this whole thing
is just...

TONY:
We don't have a choice.

Tony.

(breathing eases)

DUCKY:
Tony, what's happened?

Is there any change?

Ducky...

the swelling's going down.

Oh, good.

Now... now, it's important
that you keep her on oxygen

and monitor her breathing
until you land.

ZIVA:
Ducky, how did this happen?

She has not eaten anything.

Tony said she was sleeping.

Yes, we have been with her
the entire time.

Did she touch anything?

No, just...

a pillow.

Nuts.

- Nothing?
- No, nuts.

The pillow has been lined
with peanut dust.

She must have inhaled it
when she slept.

That can be a...
a-a virulent allergy.

Yeah.

Your assailant clearly
has done his due diligence.

Excuse me.

(whispering): Which flight
attendant gave her the pillow?

I got a match, Gibbs,

on the bloody partial print.

It belongs to one
of the flight attendants.

Tiffany Chase.
And...

her flight schedule shows
that she was in DC

the day that Sergeant Parsons
was killed in his condo.

Bank records?

Okay, you know,
that's not really my forte,

but Tony and Ziva are gone,

and McGee's been
really busy, so...

- Abby.
- Um, all right.

I found periodic deposits,
and big ones.

All from anonymous
online accounts.

These are contract payouts.

I don't know
if this is her first

in-flight murder,
but it looks like Tiffany Chase

has been using her airline job
to cover travel and kill people

and split town
from anywhere in the world.

Another killer with a day job.

Call Tony.

- (crunching)
- Hey, McGee.

Yeah, uh, boss, I ran the number

that Holly Snow gave us.

It's an offshore account.

Last deposit
was made four days ago.

Half a million dollars.

Money is still there.

Who paid to have Nora killed?

Tracked the cash back
to Beringer Marine.

It's an account
that only two people

have access to: Nora Williams

and Ray Beringer himself.

(over P.A.):
Folks, this is Captain Demerest.

We're about to start our
final descent into Washington.

Please return to your seats

and fasten your seat belts
securely.

Flight crew,
prepare the cabin for arrival.

Serving dinner again?

It wasn't that good

the first time.

Is that where you hid
the air marshal's gun?

(both grunting)

(both grunting)

(groaning)

Talk about snakes on a plane.

I'll take that hot towel now.

Excuse me. I'm in the middle
of a conference call.

I already talked
to the Secretary of the Navy.

It seems
there's some misunderstanding

in this investigation.

Investigation's over.
You're under arrest.

Put your hands behind your back.

For what?!

Hiring someone
to kill Nora Williams.

Money was transferred
from this company.

You're the only one
with access to it.

I never hired anyone...

I thought this was about fraud.

That's why you needed Nora dead.

She was the only other person
with access to the account.

Well, arrest her, then.

Look, you can check the log.

I never transferred any money.

McGEE:
So, what,

Nora put a hit on herself?

GIBBS:
Hey, Daniel!

Stop!

(engine starts)

(tires screeching)

McGee!

(McGee and Gibbs grunt)

(groans) Ow.

Boss,

I'm gonna call an ambulance.

Boss?

Boss, are you okay?

(groans)

Did you, uh...
Did you hit your shoulder?

No.

The car did, McGee.

(kicks car)

Cuff him.

(gasps)

TONY:
Uh-huh. Yeah.

They're taking her out now.

Flight attendants
will never be the same.

How are you feeling?

(sighs)
Better.

Thank you. Both.

So you still want to testify
after all of this?

Of course.

You guys did your part.
Now I have to do mine.

Okay.

Yup, got it, boss.

Right.

I told you

I liked happy endings.

I can't wait to see Daniel
after all this.

(laughs)

Yeah.

About that...

Oh, yeah.

Champ du Mars.

Bogey and Bergman
will always have Paris.

Now, so will we.

McGEE:
I guess Nora won't,

seeing as her, uh, own fianc?
used company money

to try and have her killed.

That's got to sting.

Yeah, well, Nora's testimony
was going to expose him, too.

Beringer stole from the Navy.

Daniel stole from Beringer.

How did she take it, by the way?

TONY:
Pretty hard, even for her.

Rule number 12.

Hey, boss.

How's the shoulder?

Boy, McGee, when you blow it,
you blow it big.

DiNozzo, it was an accident.

- MTAC, McGee.
- Yes, boss.

Hey, in Paris,
who got stuck with the couch?

Me. We flipped a coin.

Well, tough break.

Why did you just lie to McGee?

Why did you lie to Nora?

Nora was right.

Found my favorite picture,

and it's the only one
with someone in it.

Very French New Wave,
don't you think?

Maybe.

Hmm.

ZIVA: I think it would look
better in black-and-white.