NCIS (2003–…): Season 8, Episode 17 - One Last Score - full transcript

Hey.

- Ahem.
- Get a room.

Sorry.

Jerk.

- My hero.
- Ha, ha.

We should, you know,
get back to the party.

Yeah. Okay.

So how long have we been gone?

Um, I don't know.
Time kind of stopped.

Ha, ha. Are you being serious?

Totally. My sincerity and sarcasm
sound shockingly similar.

That's what it takes? I've been trying
to get a laugh out of you all night.

Ha-ha-ha.
So that's what you've been going for?

Yeah.

What is this? Motor oil?

- I think this car is leaking.
- Let me turn it on.

It's not oil.

Jason, what is it?

Big cutbacks in federal spending

is the hot topic on Capitol Hill
this week, with legislators vowing

to trim the federal budget.

While spending and staffing cutbacks
are likely at federal...

McGee, I was watching that.

Not anymore.
Time to hit the showers.

Is your shower not working?

Why? Do I smell?

I cannot smell you from there.

And you're part bloodhound.

Come closer.

The answer is Drakkar Noir
vintage 1988.

He buys it off eBay.

Never forget your first love.

You smell fine, McGee.

- Thank you, Ziva.
- Like lilacs.

A masculine lilac, I'm sure.

The kind that, uh,
storms beachheads,

likes bloody steaks
and smacks girls' bottoms.

McGee's shower is broken.

No, it's not.

They said it was late
and it's time to...

- Hit the showers.
- Yeah.

Oh, it's an expression.

Ah, but hitting things does fix things.

Only according to Gibbs, the Fonz,

and the far too short-lived
Stephen J. Cannell classic Riptide.

So did you shower today?

- No.
- You should.

I shower three times a week
like Brad Pitt.

Preserves my natural aroma.

Boy, Director Vance wasn't kidding
about making changes.

We are gonna lose some people.

We already have.

NCIS investigative assistant
found dead in a garage.

Good, you got your gear.
Come on, let's go.

Somebody stinks.

Well, LEOs bagged the guy's
personal effects.

Temporary NCIS ID says
Oliver Froman.

Procurement Fraud Division hire.

Hired a few months ago. Just let go.

Is Terry Thomas still supervisor
at the Fraud Squad?

Uh-huh.

That will be a fun interview, huh?

No surveillance cameras,

no line of sight
from adjacent buildings.

Ducky, can we move the body yet?

Not yet.

Mr. Palmer,
I know local law enforcement

managed to reach the man's pockets,
but we can't wait.

Almost got it. Unh.

I've got the liver probe and, uh...
Oh, yeah.

I'm stuck.

Agent McGee, how soon
could we move this poor fellow's car?

Um, this is not his car.

Don't go rush on my account.
I'm fine. I'm fine.

I'm fine.
I'll get the jack.

Thank you.

So exactly what happened?

Um, well, we were at Paul's
birthday party at the pizza place.

And me and Lauren
took a step outside

to get some fresh air.

And she was making fun of me

because I watch Victorious
on Nickelodeon.

But Victoria Justice is hot, right?

I said that, she got this crinkly face,

and then I said,
"But not as hot as you."

And then she smiled.
Then I planted one on her.

And, uh, then there was tongue.

About the body, kid.

Oh, her body was slamming.

The dead body.

Uh, yeah. That kind of sucked.

Because it was my first kiss.

They get better.

Well, usually in the morning.

Always after work. Ha, ha.

Sometimes in the afternoon,
depending on what we're working on.

I don't know, I guess I'd say
I shower about 18, 19 times a week.

- Huh.
- I'm surprised you have any skin left.

Ha, ha. What do you say, doctor?

I'd say the cause of death
is likely massive blood loss

from multiple stab wounds
to the abdomen.

And the time of death
roughly two hours ago.

It corresponds with the gate ticket.
Time stamped at 7:55 p.m.

So he did drive in.

Just not in this car.

Let's go hunting, McGee.

What about you, David?
When do you feel like showering?

After just about any conversation
with you, Tony.

I used to shower in the mornings.
But when I'd leave the house

with wet hair and it was cold outside,
I'd get a stiff neck.

Apparently
that's not just an old wives' tale.

Then I started blow-drying,

but Tony would notice
I was using a hair dryer

and he wouldn't let me hear
the end of it.

Of course...

That was the end of it.

Looks like he packed
everything he owns in here.

Froman was on the move.

He lost his job and he hit the road.

Yeah.
With all his meager possessions.

Well, these aren't his.

These are NCIS property tags.

All this stuff was seized.

This guy was looting the office.

Froman was last hired so first fired.

It wasn't personal.

Bet it felt personal to him.

Every department
is getting shaved back, you know?

He was one of a few temporary hires.
He knew that.

But nobody likes being let go.
It's a horrible feeling.

- You have been through it yourself?
- Yeah. I was a customer service re...

I answered phones before NCIS.

- Wow, and they fired you?
- Yeah, with no explanation.

Gibbs, Terry Thomas.
He was Froman's boss.

Got Froman's computer.

Hard drive's been wiped.
I'm gonna take it downstairs.

See what kind of security breach
Froman might be.

He had access to active cases

we were in the process...
Process of prosecuting.

Notice?

Gave him two weeks.

He picked up his final paycheck Friday.
He was just supposed to be a temp.

One case was lingering.

Big case, a lot of seized property.

Prepping for auction.

Who?

Leona Phelps.

Go.

You know,
he'd be terrible at customer service.

Liver?
- Spleen.

- Of course.
Interest?

- Psycho.
- Aren't they all? Ha, ha.

The movie, Palmer.

Disgruntled employee steals
from the office on the way out of town.

Stops for a little while
and winds up dead,

just like Marion Crane in Psycho.

Spoiler alert, okay? Haven't seen it.

You had 50 years to catch up
on the story of Norman Bates.

A character inspired by the exploits
of the Wisconsin cannibal, Ed Gein.

Yeah. That's right, Duckman.

The unassuming Gein was known
to give gifts to his neighbors

of smoked venison
that he prepared himself.

When the authorities
finally tracked him down,

they found his smokehouse
filled with human body parts.

Gein was said to have remarked,

"I never killed a deer in my life."

Oh, that's gross.

- Kidney?
- Liver.

And this is perforated
in an upward direction.

- Killer is likely right-handed.
- Thirteen stab wounds in total.

And judging by the angle
of the incision,

he or she knows
how to handle a blade.

He didn't use
amateurish downward stabs

like the fictional Bates
in the shower scene.

Hey, hey, hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Short knife, narrow blade.

But repeated, rapid, upward thrusts.

Yup.

You knocked.

Trying to stay on your good side.

What, is that so hard?

Well, it has been lately.

Do you have an update
on the assistant?

Helped himself to property
he was supposed to be processing,

including Leona Phelps.

Leona Phelps is considered
the Madoff of the Navy.

She ran the National Armed Forces
Credit Union

until she segued to the private sector.

She built what basically turned out
to be a financial house of cards.

- NCIS took her down last year.
- Yeah.

Minimum sentence at a country club,
the least of the charges.

She's left behind a trail
of broken lives,

but so far none of the billions
that she was responsible for investing.

She's appealing her conviction.

Nothing disrupts that prosecution,
Gibbs.

What about the scene?

The time stamp says he pulled in
20 minutes before,

parked, walked down two levels.

He got slashed
deeper than your budget there.

Duck said lividity shows
he was dead

before he was stuck
underneath the car.

Do you think this could be a case
of wrong place, wrong time?

I'll let you know.

Leon,

any of these personnel decisions
affect my team?

I'll let you know.

Hear me now?

Sorry, I had to drop you at Security.

No, I'm at the home office.

It looks exactly the same, actually.

Maybe our dead guy
was running from something,

maybe running to something.

But if the guy was leaving town,
then where was he going?

Closest family members are cousins
on his mother's side.

They live in Topeka, Kansas.

You don't go see family
after losing your job

and pulling the plug
on your big-city adventure.

Oh. Ha, ha.

Working for NCIS
is a big-city adventure?

- Isn't it?
I'll find some place to stay

as long as it's comfortable.

Where did he go?

- Open road?
- With a trunk full of stolen goods?

Friend's place, then.

I pulled phone logs from his office
and his personal cell. Nothing.

He would call ahead.

Not if you wanna surprise them.

All right, call me later. You too.

What kind of friends?
Did he have a criminal record?

You can't have a criminal record
and work for us.

And you work for us?

For NCIS. EJ Barrett.

Tony DiNozzo.

Uh, Ziva David.
You work in this office?

I think this is my desk right here.

Hey, let me ask you.

Does the glare from that skylight
bug you?

Because it's a lot of light and I just...

Is this thing bolted?

I want my desk this way,
which would...

You know, how about if we, uh,
go ask Abby and McGee

if they wanna track down...?
Let's take the stairs.

Come on. Let's get some air.

It's leather, McGee.
It's leather fiber.

Leather is skin.

I try not to think about that.

It's flesh.

It's tanned, stretched, processed,
dyed, dead flesh.

You're making it hard
not to think about.

You know,
there's a wide range of leathers

other than your typical
moo-based ones.

There's pig leather
and there's sheep leather

and there's goat leather.

And then there's chamois
and your high-end exotics

like lizard and ostrich and hippo.

- Aw, hippo.
- Abby, do you want me to stop digging

through Froman's computer
and pay attention to you?

Please.
Okay, I'm trying to isolate the DNA

from the fiber Ziva collected
underneath the car.

Why would you wanna get the DNA
of that fiber?

There were no fingerprints
at the crime scene, McGee.

No fingerprints on the crime victim,
no fingerprints on this gum wrapper.

The attacker wore gloves.

Leather gloves.

No, I saw what happened.
You and me are having a conversation.

- We're trying to work something out.
- Yeah.

It is a violation. There is an expectation
of privacy in our own office.

She's just chatting away,
right over the hedge.

- It is over the edge.
- Actually, it's over the top.

- But it's pushing you over the edge.
- Huh?

Know what I think?

If we recover the glove,
forget trying it on.

What are you guys talking about?

Um, tanning hides. You?

- The same.
- Easy.

So you think our psycho
has got a flesh collection?

Think he's got a pair of gloves.

Finally. Great, I am in.

Let's see what Froman was up to.

Ooh. We did not find that.

According to his history,
Froman printed out the specs

for a warehouse earmarked
for the Phelps case.

Her entire estate was deemed
the result of a criminal enterprise.

Rather than secure
her 400-acre residence in Virginia,

NCIS took possession
of all her possessions.

And relocated them
to a secure warehouse.

Well, this is location,

guard schedule, security codes,
and inventory.

These printouts were nowhere
in the items we recovered.

If Froman was selling details
on how to rob the entire warehouse

and the buyer killed him
rather than pay him...

Then we're not looking for a psycho,
we're looking for a crew.

There's gonna be a heist.

Leona Phelps preyed
on active and retired sailors.

She lost billions of investor dollars

through various shell corporations
and Ponzi schemes

while amassing
a vast personal fortune.

NCIS confiscated and relocated
all of Phelps' possessions

to a warehouse in Tysons Corner.

Her artwork, jewelry, furniture,
and various collectibles

would recover 75 million at auction.

She was a notorious pack rat.

Among other things.

- Froman had access to the details.
- Possibly tried to sell them.

Like Heat.

- The Michael Mann movie...
- Private security on the warehouse?

- We'll take over, get the inventory.
- Take Ziva.

- Where are we going, boss?
- Camp Cupcake.

Gonna visit Miss Phelps
at Alderson Prison?

A schemer like her
was probably involved.

EJ, LJ.

Uh, Gibbs.

She's new.

He's old. Ha, ha.

Wouldn't put it past her,
robbing herself.

- You've met Phelps?
Briefly.

She was transferring operations
to Europe

when my team brought her
to Director Vance's attention.

You have a team?

I'm team leader.
I have two other agents.

We're transferring here. To D.C.

- Where from?
- Spain.

Rota, Spain.

You mean "Rota."

Ro... Yeah.

I could never do that.

Inventory list.

Yeah. Let's do it.

It's unassuming
from the outside, you know?

Just an old warehouse.
Built in the '70s, I think.

Modern security measures?

Oh, we got the place wired
with cameras, keypad entry.

Got these swipe cards here.

Three-man team.

- Huh. Two men work, one man naps.
- Oh, you know the drill.

But ain't nothing gone missing.

How would you know?
Place looks like Xanadu.

Well, we ain't never had
any of these paintings come to life

and jump out the frame. Ha-ha-ha.

Are you referring
to the Olivia Newton-John movie?

- Weren't you?
Xanadu.

Uh, Citizen Kane's house.

- Well, that's a little embarrassing.
- For both of you.

But really, how would you know
if somebody took Rosebud out

to go sledding?

Nice.

Oh. There hasn't been anyone
unauthorized in here. Save you two.

I mean, this is a cush gig.
None of us wanna mess with that.

Tempting as it may be
to play with the toys.

Steve McQueen's sunglasses
from The Thomas Crown Affair.

Now, that was a heist.

Heh. She can't be all bad.

Mr. Wilson,
we would like to amplify your security

since your protection measures
may have been leaked.

Y'all wanna set up shop, fine by me.

Feel free to check your list twice.
Holler if you need anything.

Mm-hm. Thank you, thank you.

Wow. These things sold at
a European auction a few years ago

for $70,000.

That is ridiculous.

Yeah.

I had the opportunity to transfer
to Europe a few years back.

- I've never heard you say that.
- Huh.

I heard Director Shepard
offered you a team.

So where was it exactly?

Spain.

Rota, Spain.

You people had better be
watching my things.

Little help, Leona!

Perfect.

If I have to play
another damn volleyball game,

- I'm gonna strangle someone.
- Oh, that would be good.

Get you a nice room
in the supermax.

Yet another cheap suit hell-bent
on railroading me into a conviction.

And they say
money is supposed to buy justice.

Clearly can't buy class.

Am I talking to you or your
acid-tongued little errand boy?

You don't care about
any of the lives you've ruined.

McGee.

Your things have been relocated.

What?

- That's the first you've heard of it?
- I'm locked in this hole.

Your lawyers didn't tell you, huh?

At pushing five figures an hour,

I avoid small talk
with my defense team.

That's tough
with the well running dry.

- I'll be fine.
- Sure.

Billions unaccounted for.

- Investing carries inherent risks.
- So does lying to a federal agent.

I didn't ask to talk to you, Agent Gibbs.

It was the other way around.

And as charming and clever
as you may find yourself,

it's not mutual, so get to it.

This is supposed to be in the villa
in Seville.

And this is all my furniture.

This is...

This is everything.

We suspect
that someone might be trying

to rob our facility.

A heist.

- Who do you suspect?
- I don't know. Who do you suspect?

I'll be late for my pastry class.

Martha Stewart started it
when she was here.

Take care, Agent Gibbs.

It's one of Tony's movie myths.

I've never had a good time
in a women's prison.

What a horrible woman.

Video depositions.

Everything we have on her victims.

Looking to put a face to her crimes?

Tony and Ziva?

Said they plugged the holes
in the warehouse security system

with motion detectors.
Monitoring now.

Figure since this crew left a body
behind them,

they'll probably strike quickly.

Yeah.

Do you need any help with the?

I can play a DVD, McGee.

Navy pension fund deposition...

A lot of hard-working people
forced out of retirement

after having their pensions depleted.

Begin by stating your name.

Grace Mullen.

My husband, Benjamin, and I
were advised

to move his Navy pension
to the Phelps Fund.

That's all gone now.

Ben managed to find work
washing floors at Lincoln School.

He always kept a straight back.

"I'm back swabbing the decks
on the Lincoln." He joked about that.

Paintings come to life.
The guy probably thinks

he's like Ben Stiller
in Night at the Museum.

He's playing baseball with himself.

I mean, he's a working stiff.

No magic there.

Fiddle Faddle?

- What?
- Do you want something to eat?

No.

I have an apple if you prefer.

He's gotta have dreams, right?

He can't just go to work,
punch the clock, walk the beat.

Wake up, go back,
do it all over again.

Here.

Why do you keep pushing food
on me?

Because your blood sugar
is dangerously low.

Unless something else
is bothering you.

My name is Ruleo Medilla.

I drove a sanitation truck in Detroit
before I took partial disability.

You need something, Barrett?

No.

You need anything, Gibbs?

Good night.

Motion sensors tripped.

Wilson, what's your 20?

I'm in the guard's office.

- Do you have any men on the floor?
- Negative.

We have visitors.

False alarm, Wilson.

Copy that.

Hey, boss. Couldn't call ahead?

No. I came in the way they came in.

The heist isn't coming.
They pulled it off already.

What?

Like a thief in the night?

But nothing's missing.

No. Nothing on this list.

So, what did they take?

Phelps went straight to this page.

So something interested her here,
huh?

Well, there's a couple options.

But I like this desk.

Old-growth wood.

- Craftsman made.
- Ah!

It belonged to William Faulkner.

- I love his writing.
Total genius.

Yes. It was worth learning English
just for The Sound and the Fury.

Or that chapter in As I Lay Dying,

the one with the five words
where Vardaman says,

"My mother is a fish."

I don't really like his books much,

but I'm a fan of the movies he made
based on other people's books.

Like The Big Sleep
and To Have and Have Not.

I mean, he gave us Bogie and Bacall.
God bless you, William Faulkner.

Dovetail joints don't go with nails.

They've been here.
It's been jimmied.

There's gotta be a manual release
somewhere.

Huh.

They did not care about this desk.

No.

Only what was in here.

What was that?

- Hey, you brought me a new desk.
- It's an old desk.

Did you find anything
on your leather DNA project?

Ugh. Turns out it's impossible.
It's improbable.

It's just highly unlikely.

I can't really determine
much other than the type of cow.

What is that on the plasma?

Oh, that's a different case.

For Special Agent Barrett.
Have you met her?

She talks to herself all the time.
I like it.

Yeah.

I do not like all the shuffling
of desks.

You know what? Evidence garage.
Freight elevator.

Oh.

Careful. A man was killed for this.

I thought he was killed
for what was inside.

We do not even know what that was.

Challenge accepted.

What kind of a cow?

- It was a calf. Holstein.
Ah.

Tacky, Agent Gibbs.

I especially hate the bracelets.

Not your favorite jewelry?

What do you want now?

Secret panel in your desk.
It was empty.

Looks like it was pried open
with a screwdriver.

I was robbed.

Would you like to file a claim?

Against you? For damages? Sure.

No, for your loss.

We'll need to know
what was in there.

What's the theory?

Well, it must have been valuable.

They went straight for the desk.

Didn't touch anything else.
Maybe you arranged it yourself.

Interesting theory.

It was yours.

Two seconds into hearing
about the case, you jumped right to it.

Broken clocks and blind squirrels.

Really? Just a lucky guess, huh?

I'm still just getting
the lay of the land.

Huh. Where did you find that chair?

It was over there in the corner.

So, what's your quick read here?

She hates feeling like a prisoner,
so Gibbs salts the wound.

Keeps her emotional,
he stays cerebral.

That's how you get a captain's C
on your jersey.

You a jock, DiNozzo?

- Basketball. Some other stuff.
- Hmm.

Varsity?

- Team captain. Once upon a time.
- Hmm.

I was a cheerleader myself.

- Oh.
- Hmm.

I never got past JV, though.
Kept getting distracted by the boys.

Oh.

I gotta run.
I got a meeting with the director.

She'll want a deal.

I know.

What does he want?

Anybody else know about the panel?

I had nothing to do with this crime,
Agent Gibbs.

I'm the victim.

However, I can tell you exactly
who you're looking for.

But you need to do something
for me.

When they've got all the information
they can gather about the victim,

I'd like him to come back here
with you.

Have you been able
to find everything?

Thank you, EJ.

That didn't last long.

Knocking on my door.

Leona Phelps wants to cut a deal.

- Deal for what?
- The name of Froman's killer.

She could have the name
of Jimmy Hoffa's killer.

There's no way we're gonna reduce
the charges.

- No, that's not what she asked for.
- Then what does she want?

Get out of prison.

No.

House arrest. Pending her appeal.

She knows who targeted her.

You don't make deals, Gibbs.

This one is a steal.

Using the few clues

from the garage murder
and the warehouse break-in,

I've focused on substantial
unsolved heists in the area

over the past ten years.

Here's what I found.

Six years ago,
casino cage, Atlantic City.

Two-man team goes in with hot iron.

Three guards get bloody,
one gets aced.

Stickup man goes toes up
on the carpet.

The other goes out the door
with 27 million clams.

Getaway driver scoops him curbside,
guns blazing.

Then they dump and burn the ride
on the Jersey border,

- and then they are Casper.
- All right. Where does that get us?

Unless you built a proton pack in your
spare time, we can't bust ghosts, so...

The guy they left behind
has a rap sheet

as long as a...

As long as a...

What's really long?

This presentation.

The FBI tracked down
known associates of the dead guy

and they found nada.
Twenty-seven million split two ways?

That's one-last-score kind of money.
They're gone.

White-sand beaches
and umbrella drinks

- for the rest of your life.
Who'd come back?

That question has to wait
till we come back.

Uh, boss, McGee thinks
he's got a lead on the crew.

I've got a quicker one.

- Ziver, let's go.
- Where are we going?

To spring Leona Phelps
from Camp Cupcake.

You made a deal with her?

- You did quick work, Gibbs.
- Name.

We met in 2005 at my office at home
to discuss a business proposition.

Among the many objets d'art,

he was particularly preoccupied
with the Faulkner desk.

Your favorite hiding place.

Yes.

His name is Otto Brackin.

- McGee.
Otto Brackin.

I know.

- Wait. How do you know?
- What do I know?

He was a cellmate of the guy
who died in the casino heist.

They did a two-year stretch together
at Ossining.

- Where is he now?
- Virginia State Police found his body

a few hours ago. He's dead.

Virginia P.D. says the motel room

where they found Otto Brackin's body
was trashed. Major struggle.

So lacerations were on his liver?

Identical wounds
to those on Froman.

Same knife, same style, same killer.
Job is done.

So, what? He turns on his partner?
There's no honor among thieves.

Or they fight over the split maybe?
Or something went sideways?

Well, Grand Theft Otto here matches
the physical description

of the second man
from the cage robbery.

Well, that leaves the getaway man
outstanding.

Why is that outstanding?

Motel manager got plates
and a description.

Got a BOLO out on the car. Lexus.
Stolen.

Okay, okay.

This is the second guy to get gutted
on this caper.

And somehow this woman
is at the heart of it. It's a heist movie.

So there's just one question
that we have to answer.

What would Steve McQueen do?

You know, it seems unfair.

You get to go home
for giving us the name of a man

- who's recently been murdered.
Deal is a deal, Ziver.

You ought to muzzle your pups,
Agent Gibbs.

They all seem to have a problem
with barking.

No. This one's problem
is definitely her bite.

I couldn't have predicted
Brackin's death.

And I certainly
couldn't have anything to do with it

from the inside.

Is that why you wanted out so badly?
Didn't look so terrible to me.

You've obviously
never had your freedom taken away.

Ha-ha-ha. A real gift
for reading people, this one.

Perception is reality.

If I am seen as a criminal,
I'll be treated as a criminal.

Despite the lack of hard evidence
on the part of prosecution,

incarceration sure gives
the appearance of guilt.

Kind of empty
without all your beautiful things.

They're nothing next to freedom.

Do not get ahead of yourself.

If you go beyond that door,
we will know about it.

Fine. But other than that,
you leave me alone.

No police presence.

Yep. That was the deal.

Enjoy solitary confinement.

We steal for a living.

We pull off that one last score,
McGee, we're set for life.

But the cheese is hot.
Where do we stash the cash?

Ah. Well, of course.
We take a meeting with Leona Phelps,

the unscrupulous money manager.

- She's not gonna ask questions.
- Right.

If we invest our stolen money
with her.

- She'll clean it up and we'll be fine.
- Till the whole thing goes pear-shaped.

And we're broke.

That's it. She doesn't just ruin the lives
of good people.

She ruins the lives
of bad people too.

The crooks have to come
out of retirement.

They've gotta pull off
one last one last score.

I'll cross-reference the names of
Phelps' victims with criminal records.

Bet we come up with someone
who served time with Brackin.

What are they after?

- Wanna know what was in the desk?
- Absolutely.

Believe it or not,
I found a collagen fiber

that I determined to be deerskin,
dear.

Aw, ha, ha.

I also found traces of cellulose
mixed in the linen,

as well as thermochromic ink
in the wood.

High-end paper and security ink.

After referencing the Secret Service
ink and paper libraries,

that is where Leona Phelps stashed

her Italian-made, leather embossed,
one-of-a-kind bookkeeping ledger.

So all the missing money,

I'm thinking a secret account
somewhere.

And it's all in the ledger,
which was all in the desk.

Keyword: "was."

I thought the deal was
I get left alone.

Me too.

That was how Otto convinced me
to invest my money with you.

We were never gonna work again.

You ruined that.

Mr. Medilla.

I'm sorry to hear about your partner.

We found a guy
to get us in that warehouse.

We went to all that trouble.
The damn ledger wasn't even there.

I can imagine
you must have been very upset.

I was.

I would like to have it now.

You want money.

I understand. I can get you money.

I do.

But more than that,
I want your blood.

- Yeah, Gibbs.
Boss,

DNA from the gum wrapper matched
Ruleo Medilla.

He's the last member of the crew.
Phelps lost all their money.

She knew it was them
as soon as she heard "heist."

She knew what they were after.
Same thing the prosecution's after.

Same thing you're after.
She had to get out and get it first.

It's a smoking gun.

Uh-huh.

What's next?

Bullitt.

Oh, she's on the run.

Help!

He's got a knife!

Please.

Aah! Unh.
- Ziva, stay with her.

You violated
your house-arrest agreement.

But for this,
you're going away for life.

Like Doc McCoy in The Getaway.

Yeah.

No, not really.

McQueen had Jewison.

He had Yates, he had Pekinpah.
Right there.

Guiding him, navigating him,
molding him.

You would have made
a great director, boss.

Yeah.
Well, already got one of those.

McQueen also had Jacqueline Bisset,
Faye Dunaway and Ali MacGraw.

Have you noticed the new girl
likes to shower here

before she goes home?

Hey.

Did you hear me?

You know, I was offered your job.

I turned it down.

Thank you.

Towel, please.

So why would you do that?

I wanted this team.

Here in D.C. The Varsity.

How did Gibbs feel about that?

Well, he left.

He gave it to me.

You know, I was pretty good at it.

I mean,
I made a couple rookie mistakes,

but I was figuring it out.

And then Gibbs took it back?

Yeah.

He did.

The previous director, Shepard,
she, uh...

She saw something in me.

Kept an eye on me.

Smart woman.

There are rules against this.

No, there aren't.