"So, I guess this is it?" "It's been nice knowing you, man." "Here we go." "Hard to believe we're already seniors." "Yeah, remember the first time we came up here?" "We were so young-- believed everything would always go our way." "Can I tell you something, Chris?" "Look, don't make this any harder, Chris, all right?" "I already know you didn't get into Georgetown with me." "I got into Northern." "Hey, that's not bad, I mean..." "Wait, what?" "Northern was my first choice." "They have a top pharmacy program." "I know." "But you're a marketing major." "See, this is why I waited to tell you." "You said you didn't even apply there, dude." "I mean, when the hell did we start lying to each other?" "What was that?" "No way." "Whoa." "♪ NCIS 11x15 ♪ Bulletproof Original Air Date on February 25, 2014" "== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man" "♪" "Ooh." "Let's go again." "I know I can get a better score." "Your FLETC agent training-- it's not going to be a competition." "Of course, but practice makes perfect, right?" "Come on, one more round?" "Not today." "You looking for a gold star?" "They have those?" "Nope." "McGee still checks." "He used to have the top score in every training category." "Still would if they hadn't changed to a point-based system." "Bell curve anyone?" "Hello?" "Hello." "How does it feel to be a federal agent?" "Well, I'll feel better when I get my FLETC training done." "The sequestration last year delayed a lot of people ahead of me." "Took me a week just to get an instructor to qualify me on the firing range." "And I suppose you aced that?" "Well, they gave me a gun." "So, what are you guys doing here?" "Couldn't miss out on some sweaty woman-on-woman action, huh?" "No." "Although it does save McGee a pay-per-view charge." "We got a crime scene." "Oh, okay, um, cool." "Let me just shower and I'll be right back." "No, no time." "Gibbs is in the car." "We cracked a window." "Uh, Gibbs wants me in my sweaty old sweatpants?" "He wants you in that." "Let's go, probie." "Well, a passing driver called in the wreck." "Metro called us when they found the cargo." "Rifles are civilian." "These aren't." "Property of the U.S. Marine Corps." "I'm guessing these aren't bread rations." "The bakery closed down two years ago." "Went out of business." "Truck's not registered." "And the driver's long gone." "Stolen Marine crates?" "I'd get my hot cross buns out of here, too." "No, they had to have left something behind." "It's likely." "We will definitely check on that." "Then go, do it." "Probie!" "Probie!" "You know, when we call, it usually means you come to us." "At first, "probie" sounded endearing and cute." "Doesn't anymore." "Missing driver, go." "He was a disgusting slob who lived in his truck." "I found his dirty clothes, his dirty mattress, and his dirty, dirty porn." "This is all part of the rookie hazing thing, huh?" "It's not hazing." "It's part of the job." "Driver?" "Um..." "I found blood on the steering wheel, and what looks like blue paint on the broken windshield." "All that studying paid off." "Bell curve or not." "What about those buckets?" "When I said he lived in his truck, it wasn't hyperbole." "Huh, our missing driver was not a fan of pit stops." "Did you check them?" "Ha." "Mm, for what?" "Contraband." "It's the first place I'd hide something I didn't want found." "Hmm." "I wish that didn't make sense." "Hey!" "You missed something in there." "Hmm?" "You see that?" "Grading on a curve hurts everyone." "You want me to squeeze all the way down there?" "You'd have to dangle me by my ankles!" "Hey, boss, I think I found the cause of the crash." "Spray paint-- matches spatter found on the windshield." "Yeah, well, maybe the sky was falling." "Yeah." "Deliberately?" "I don't know." "Good question." "Well, deliberately or not, what are the cosmic chances of a random bag hitting a bakery truck that's hauling stolen Marine rifles?" "Well, not weapons." "It's armor." "Lots of it." "Missing the NSN." "Yeah, this one is, too." "All of them." "Pretty fast, Abbs." "I don't like guns, Gibbs." "Matter of fact, I hate them." "Which is a strong word." "But I am a professional, so..." "Your handiwork?" "Yeah, whenever the Marines accept equipment from a manufacturer, it's stamped with a national stock number for safety and logistic reasons." "All the vests in the truck were missing them." "Which means they never made it to Uncle Sam." "Or they were never meant to in the first place." "So, you tested to see if they're fake?" "Yes, and my tests revealed something way worse." "This is official" "Marine-issued body armor." "When worn properly, it can stop a 30-caliber armor-piercing round with only an occasional broken rib." "This vest is from the truck." "Looks like the real deal." "Well, it is except... when this is hit, the ceramic plates, they shatter into deadly shards that bury themselves inside the body." "The vests are faulty." "They're more like fatal, Gibbs." "And apparently someone is trying to sell these." "Okeydoke." "Body armor manufacturers." "Let me guess." "The two with DoD contracts deny making faulty vests." "They're sending representatives just in case." " Hmm." " No, that's not what I mean." "I'm saying it doesn't matter to anyone here." "Delilah." "Look, when you're ready, so are we." "Okay?" "I got to go." "I'll talk to you later." "Everything okay, McGee?" "Delilah wants to stop by." "That's awesome." "I think so, too." "Ever since the Parsa takedown, she's wanted to come by and thank everyone personally." "Well, so what's the problem?" "The wheelchair." "She's uncomfortable being seen in it." "I think she's still getting used to the fact that it's permanent." "I'm not sure what else to do to help." "Just don't not avoid not making her feel self-conscious about it." "DiNozzo's right." "Yeah." "Missing driver, let's go." "We've been processing the backpack found at the scene." "We're thinking the owner saw our driver from on high." "Prints?" "A bust." "But we did learn that in addition to dirt and tight spaces," "Bishop is also good with heights." "That is all more hazing, I take it?" "No, it's all part of the job." "Anything else?" "Uh, found this in the bottom of the backpack." "Book notes from Mrs. Bodey's 12th grade English class." "There's no name." "Clearly male handwriting." "And based on the sloppy prose, our guy was skating through senior year." "Sickening." "Sickening." "We found a Mrs. Bodey at Columbia North High School." "She ID'd the handwriting." "And therefore, our slacker." "Pick him up." "Sickening." "Word around school is Chris Valley and Chris Hoffman are attached at the hip." "You guys go everywhere together." "Do everything together." "Chris squared." "Look, it was my backpack and paper." "This is my fault." "I should be the one getting arrested." "No way, dude." "You don't get to go alone." "You want to go to jail?" "Just for a couple nights, maybe." "Anything to make you stand out helps with scholarships, okay?" "Do you know the money that's out there for reformed convicts?" "And talk about a great application essay." "I could re-apply to Northern." "They'd eat that up." "We'll-we'll tell you everything as long as you arrest us." "Okay." "Did you drop the bag on purpose?" "No." "I mean, I mean, yeah." "Yeah, yeah, we deliberately caused that wreck." "Huh." "Really?" "Why?" "Because it... well, it fel..." "it felt, it felt good." "We're out-of-control teens, sir." "We need the state to intervene." "Nobody's going to jail!" "Aw, come on!" "Your backpack hit a truck carrying illegal goods." "And we need to ID the driver." "So we're, like, heroes?" "This doesn't help us though." "Okay." "You help me ID the driver," "I think I could maybe arrange a couple hours in a holding cell." "Okay." "We can work with that." "So what happened?" "Uh, after the crash, we climbed down to help." "But when the driver got out, he just took off." "He seemed fine, so we did the same." "Right, I need a description." "Uh, he was a big guy." "Overweight, wearing a shirt that was too small." "Uh, it had a logo on it." "A gun logo." "Oh, yeah, that's right." "For the gun show that they have every year at the fairgrounds." "It's going on this week, right?" "Yeah, yeah." "So, are you gonna book us now?" "I doubt it." "What if we punched you?" "Excuse me?" "Assaulting a federal officer carries a six-month minimum." "They'd miss fall enrollment." "So, why are we just walking around?" "Shouldn't we be asking questions?" "The badges say plenty around here." "I want to see who finds us." "Oh." "Lot of firepower." "Think it's all legal?" "I doubt it." "That's why we have ol' SIG watching our back." "Tell me about it." "Ol' SIG's there all the time now." "It's part of the job." "Yep." "That becomes apparent when they send you down the training alley, the one with the cardboard people that, like, pop out, and you're alone." "No team, no time to analyze." " It's just..." " you and the gun." "You shot the picture of the mother holding the baby, didn't you?" "I thought it was a gun wrapped in a towel." "Like Godfather Part II." "Oh, nice." "You won't tell Gibbs or McGee, right?" "Well..." "Can I help you two?" "I'm not looking for trouble at my show." "NCIS Special Agent DiNozzo and Bishop." "Oh, Agent, huh?" "Fay Gussman." "So, you kind of run this place, Ms. Gussman?" "This isn't some yokel operation selling guns to crooks or kids." "I got permits for all my operations out in the office trailer." "Ah." "Well, we're not here about permits." "Have you seen this truck?" "Sure." "Pillsbury Doughboy." "Excuse me?" "Belongs to a pudgy fella." "Tries to sell at my show every year without a permit." "Was he trying to sell Marine body armor?" "Not here, for damn sure." "I get rid of trouble when I see it." "Trouble have a name?" "Sure I got a name and address written down somewhere." "Be back in a minute." "Let the badge work for you." "Mm." "Is that more body armor?" "Looks like it." "For every one of our prepacked care packages that you send to your son or daughter, we'll donate five more." "You can even choose to add custom items:" "a favorite shampoo, sunglasses, even body armor." "It's against regulations to wear nonmilitary- issue body armor." "Well, it's better than wearing a damaged vest." "Or nothing at all." "And thanks to congressional budget cuts, that could happen." "Is that one of ours?" "No." "Different manufacturer." "They're military-grade, but sold on the civilian market." "If you're looking for something in particular, we can order just about anything." "You ever seen this truck before?" "We believe the driver was selling fraudulent military gear." "No." "Like I said, we only buy and send the best." "Troops deserve it." "Amen." "Wish I had more vendors like Karen." "Got that name and address for you." "Doughboy's name is Corey Ruxin." "Address is in Falls Church." "Thank you very much." "Thanks." "Federal agents!" "NCIS!" "Clear." "Clear!" "This place is just as filthy as his truck." "And just as many guns." "But minus the buckets." "He could have used one earlier." "Check this out." "Three small-caliber gunshots to the chest." "However, there are only powder burns on these two." "First shot was at a distance, Duck?" "Possible." "Leaving the shooter free to get close enough to administer these two." "That's insurance." "If our victim was selling the faulty vests, someone else made sure to get to him before we did." "They were tying up loose ends." "Got papers and a cell phone recently burned in the fireplace." "That ash is still warm.It's." "Oh, I'll do it for you, Tony." "I'll bag it and tag it." "Uh, arson cans are in the MCRT truck, right?" "I got it." "Mm-hmm." "Thanks." "That was weird." "What, does she owe you money?" "No, she's paying me to keep a secret." "Really?" "Is it a good one?" "Mm." "Jimmy Palmer, where you been?" "Been here the whole time, Tony." "It's my job." "And I usually notice you doing it because you have more to say, much more." "At least a "hello."" "Hello." "Why is everyone acting so weird today?" "You can tell them, Mr. Palmer." "We're all family here." "I don't want to jinx it now, Doctor." "Saying things aloud doesn't change the probabilities any more than rapping on hard, organic tissue will reverse them." "He means knocking on wood." "Uh, our birth mother officially signed the adoption papers today." "So, all she has to do now is have the kid... and not change her mind." "Oh, for heaven sake." "I just jinxed it, didn't I?" "Ya think?" "Yeah, Abbs?" "I always do this." "I always say too much." "Is there someplace else I could wait?" "Do you mean is there someplace else you could hide?" "No." "You're gonna sit right there and you're gonna think about what you and your company have done." "The faulty vests were the result of a manufacturing defect, yes." "But we knew about it, and we marked the entire batch for destruction." "None of these made it to the market or the military, Miss Sciuto." "I-I've been very forthcoming with you." "So, you think I'm just being rude?" "A little childish maybe?" "Hmm." "I believe in magic, prayer, and logic equally." "Is that childish?" "No, it's impossible." "So is what you're saying." "If all defective body armor was destroyed, then why did we find three crates of it in a derelict bakery truck?" "There must be some explanation." "Oh, I'd love to hear about it." "Special Agent Gibbs," "Benson Honeycutt, quality control manager for Dearborn Dynamics Systems." "Still waiting on an explanation." "Sure." "So, recall protocol is incredibly thorough." "Not to mention the legal hurdles we have to jump." "Even without NSNs, each and every product ID number is recorded and accounted for." "Paperwork would make your head spin." "Try us." "Of course." "Always happy to cooperate with any investigation." "Which means this isn't your first one." "Oh, look." "My search shows that there was a combat zone mishap report involving your body armor." "Yeah, that-that happened two years ago." "And Marine Sergeant Freddie Linn is now paralyzed from the waist down." "And our vest was never proven to be at fault." "Which I understand sounds cold, but it's-it's business... and the truth." "Send Linn's info to McGee." "We're gonna follow up on this anyway." "Good." "Sit!" "Uh, GPS error, McGee?" "When I spoke to Sergeant Linn, this is where he said to meet." "Didn't know it was an empty field." "Well, he said he'd be here by 3:00." "I'll give him another call." "Heads up!" "Freddie Linn?" "Hey." "You guys must be NCIS." "You mind grabbing me my other half?" "Thank you." "You good?" "Thanks." "All right." "Sorry I'm late." "Headwinds." "That would explain the noise when I called." "Yeah, well, I got tired of hearing what I couldn't do and figured I'd give people some other reason to stare, so I started a skydiving company." "So you were a former paratrooper?" "No, no, no, but, uh, jumping sounded fun, and turns out, you don't need legs to fall or to turn a nice profit." "Appreciate you taking the time." "Yeah, well," "I wasn't thrilled about digging this up again, but, uh, when you said it had something to do with bad gear," "I was-I was curious." "What's this got to do with me?" "You don't believe your body armor was faulty?" "I took four hits to the back in a firefight outside of Kabul and yeah, my armor shattered, but nothing's guaranteed to hold up against that, and any one of those bullets could have been the thing that clipped my spine." "You seem pretty calm about it all." "Eh, letting go of blame-- it's the first thing you gotta do." "So please don't tell me there's new blame to be had." "Well, we're investigating a batch of defective armor that may have been sold illegally." "Where'd your vest come from?" "Well, it's been two years." "Do we... do we have to go down that road, sir?" "For the sake of the others, let's be sure, huh?" "It was a gift from my mother." "I don't have any reason to ask her where it came from, and I'm not about to now." "The guilt's gonna kill her." "Not her fault." "Sorry." "Oh, no, don't be." "It's not as good as what I had before all this, but, uh, it works." "Do you mind if I ask you, how long did it take you to get used to it?" "You don't." "You just, uh, choose to move on." "Which will be a lot easier when you tell me this is all put to rest." "Severe serrating on the subdermis, the lacerations being approximately three inches." "Severe serrating confirmed." "Lacerations approximately three inches." "And again, no damage here." "I mean, it's amazing what an actual working vest can do." "Honeycutt." "While there's no way to prove what ultimately caused his paralysis, Sergeant Linn's wounds match those on the ballistic dummy." "These vests came from the same bad batch." "Honeycutt." "It's amazing how much damage a bullet can do." "Yes, and these were low-velocity, solid-point rounds." "Do we really need to make anything more powerful, Doctor?" "There will always be a desire for more power, dear boy." "Oh!" "Ah." "I'm so glad you gave up all those silly superstitions about celebrating happy news." "Oh, yeah." "Breena bought those bubble gum cigars when we decided to adopt." "What?" "!" "That's what these are?" "Yeah, they were about to go bad." "I mean, that's not gonna jinx it, is it?" "Jimmy!" "That's not how these things work." "It's not?" "No!" "You need to touch something wood." "Like, right now." "Let me get..." "uh, I..." "Everything in here is metal!" "I..." "Keep it." "You finding anything useful?" "No." "I mean, about what?" "The case." "Oh, right." "Uh, Sergeant Linn's mother is here and on her way up." "She say where she got the vest?" "Said she doesn't remember sending it and insisted on coming in." "I get the sense she's harboring more residual anger than her son." "Can I ask you a question?" "Mm-hmm." "Just did." "You were a sniper." "How did you do it?" "Pulled the trigger." "Right." "But what did you..." "what did you think about when you were taking aim?" "Smoke-checking the target, Bishop." "Right." "Of course." "I'm Malory Linn," "Freddie Linn's mother." "You the agent in charge?" "Yes, ma'am." "Then I've got two questions." "Why the hell is this just coming out now?" "And who the hell is responsible?" "We understand your concern, but..." "Save it!" "You told me" "I sent my son body armor that got him paralyzed?" "Uh, yes, ma'am." "Well, if that's true, we got more problems." "Who is "we"?" "These are mothers who have also sent their sons and daughters extra body armor." "So either somebody starts answering our questions or we start asking them in front of TV cameras." "Well, they agreed to hold off on contacting any news outlets." "We just need a chance to do our job, Tim." "After Mrs. Linn found out about the vests, she contacted every military family she knew, hence the mom militia." "They all sent body armor?" "Well, that's what we're trying to find out right now, but I think some are just concerned moms and citizens." "As they should be until we find out the source of these vests." "Manufacturer sent over all the recall records." "It's a lot of paperwork." "Something could easily fall through the cracks." "Yeah, go, find out." "Delilah, hey." "You're where?" "Professor X." "Lieutenant Dan!" "Dr. Strangelove." "Ah, how about Logan Cale?" "Jake Sully?" "The old lady from Titanic?" "Tony!" "I thought we talked specifically about not listing disabled movie characters." "Delilah," "I'm so sorry." "I wish I knew that you were coming today." "Relax, Tim." "I could've saved us all the embarrassment." "I'm pretty sure you're the only one who's embarrassed." "What?" "I started it as a contest, and I still think I can name more than Tony." "Okay, fine, you were right, Tim." "It feels really good to get out." "Oh." "Oh, okay then." "DoD Delilah, good to see you." "Yeah, you, too." "Hey, since you're all here," "I would like to thank you for taking out that evil, coward bastard, Benham Parsa." "You know, that was actually the name on the death certificate." "Delilah!" "Uh, incredible to see you're doing so well, and I can't wait to catch up, but I have a break in the case." "You understand." "Oh, go, babe." "Okay, two things." "One, remember the charity woman we met at the gun show?" "No." "Yes, Karen." "According to Malory Linn's bank statements, she wrote, uh, a check to Home in Your Hands Foundation." "Vest was part of a care package." "Which is why Mrs. Linn doesn't remember sending it." "Charity must have shipped other vests." "Okay, that's the thing, too." "I have three other mothers upstairs who sent care packages via the same organization." "Dates?" "As recent as last month, and they were sent to troops in multiple branches of the military." "The Marine Corps has been on alert since we found the bakery truck." "So we're gonna need to coordinate with everyone now." "Get DoD online in MTAC." "A friendly face might speed things up." "Oh, come on, you're just trying to make me feel better." "Well, it depends." "How am I doing?" "It working?" "Kind of." "Find the charity woman." "On it." "Oh, do you want me to roll you in?" "No, I was letting you go first." "Oh." "Okay." "Uh..." "Ooh." "I'm sorry, I just need to turn around." "Sorry." "Um..." "Oh." "You know what, let me twist you." "I can help if I... if I twist you." "Uh, you know what, I'm just gonna back out." "Oh, I'm sorry." "No, it's fine." "It's fine." "I'm sorry." "Okay, okay." "You know, there's Tom Cruise in Born on the Fourth of July." "Guy from Coming Home." "That kind of only works with Tony." "What's she waiting for?" "Give it time." "It's already been 35 minutes since we traced her cell phone." "I mean, she hasn't moved." "She know we're watching?" "Are we being set up?" "Should I call in backup?" "These have splinters." "Give me a, uh, another set of chopsticks." "I'm overanalyzing again, huh?" "Soy sauce, please." "Are you ignoring me and eating?" "Work smarter, not harder, Bishop." "Universe rolls on its own." "Why get out and push?" "How does that apply to carrying a gun?" "Like, say in the alley training, how do I know when I'm pushing?" "I'd love more advice." "Advice, huh?" "Mm-hmm." "See what that says." "Anything yet?" "If she's in the middle of nefarious charity dealings," "I don't see..." "Oh, wait." "I see something." "Yep, yep." "I see it." "Yeah." "Federal agents!" "Turn off the vehicles." "Put your hands on the steering wheel." "Please." "Why don't you check the paper bag, Emily Post." "Anything good?" "This is gonna sound weird, but..." "They're extra-absorbent tampons." "Hardly worth arresting me for." "It's funny." "I usually get mine at the grocery store." "Mm." "And do you have a favorite brand?" "Maybe." "Well, that guy that you freaked out in the pickup truck is the father of a marine, and she has a favorite brand, too." "I was on my way to the post office when he called, wanting to add these to her care package." "So you stopped just for that?" "I do whatever it takes." "The least we can do for our troops is give them what they want." "Hmm." "Last time I heard, our troops just want gear that works." "What is this?" "The vests you've been sending." "Courtesy of this guy." "We have proof faulty vests have come from your organization." "You've been buying shoddy armor..." "No." "and pocketing the profit." "No!" "I started my organization because me father, his father and my great-grandfather before him all served." "I do it in their honor." "For their sacrifice." "What about Sergeant Linn's sacrifice?" "Upon bullet impact, the ceramic plates shattered and entered his lower back." "I think I'm gonna be sick." "Good." "I had no idea they were faulty." "He told me they were authentic." "Corey Ruxin?" "Lives are at risk." "But you can still help us before more damage is done." "I never asked Ruxin questions because it saved money." "So I could send more." "Where were you this morning?" "I was at the expo all day, taking donations and orders." "You can check credit card transactions." "I'm the only employee we have." "We're gonna need all your shipping records, names, unit numbers, everything." "The faulty gear is still out there." "Yeah, McGee?" "DoD's put out a system-wide advisory on the faulty vests." "It urges troops to use only their military-issued body armor." "Sounds like there's a "but" coming." "According to my bosses and Marine Forces" "Central Command, there's a team on an active recon mission in Helmand Province." "Afghanistan." "It's a hot spot for insurgent activity." "And that's just in the last month." "The team's out of radio contact." "And not only will the bulletin not reach them..." "We have confirmation that two squad members received care packages from Upline's charity." "There are Marines wearing faulty gear into battle." "They said they'd be right back." "I-Is the feed still live?" "'Cause it looks like they cut." "Boys sent you up to wait for word, huh?" "Rookie hazing?" "Uh..." "Two hot chicks... they probably figured we'd get faster results." "And I'm in a wheelchair." "Double points." "Aw..." "Oh, no, you'd be surprised." "People go out of their way to help me now." "Total strangers, boyfriends." "I don't always need it." "Well... people are generally good." "Someone was selling defective body armor, and then someone killed that someone." "And now we are trying to get some of those vests back from a U.S. Marine recon unit in Afghanistan." "Well, I guess we all need help sometimes." "Maybe." "You read that in a fortune cookie?" "Yeah." "This recall paperwork is mind-numbing." "Well, legal statutes, mandatory procedures, and corporate oversights are meant to protect us." "Whatever happened to Darwinism?" "You have to sign a release for that." "Well, everything here looks good." "It appears the manufacturer followed protocol and properly disposed of the defective vests." "Ha-ha!" "So it wasn't the contractor in the lab with the faulty body armor?" "First time for everything." "Give me an update." "Well, the charity woman's alibi checks out for the time of the murder." "Marine unit in Afghanistan." "Uh..." "Bishop and Delilah are trying to get a message to them." "So far, no luck." "Is there any good news?" "Delilah seems to be liking the distraction." "Otherwise... nothing good." "Huh." "Adjust your ascot and back up the Mystery Machine." "It sounds like McScooby's got a clue." "Maybe..." "Boss, legally, the manufacturer has to hire a recycling company to destroy the vests." "I mean, that sounds like something that should cost a pretty penny." "So the company took a hit?" "No." "According to last quarter's earning statement, the body armor division made money." "Forms signed by Benson Honeycutt." "Makes no sense." "How do you make money off defective items?" "I knew the corporate stooge had to be involved." "Let's go." "You better explain all this to me before my boss comes in here." "'Cause he's not much for legal forms." "My company followed the letter of the law to a T." "You've been making money off your mistakes." "There's nothing wrong with good business." "And scare tactics don't work on me." "I've stared into the eyes of the IRS before and I'm still standing." "Military lives aren't write-offs." "These vests are." "And we properly and legally disposed of them." "You have three seconds." "Any manager worth his salt will make lemonade from lemons." "These lemons get people killed." "Your mound of paperwork can't hide kickbacks." "The recycling company was paying you for the contract." "My department, yes." "The sale of valuable goods is legal." "So you knew they were gonna sell the body armor." "No, they were gonna sell raw silicon carbide." "It's used in making ceramic plates in the armor." "It's also used for making everything from car brakes to L.E.D. lights." "That's why they pay us." "Look, if the recycling company is not destroying the vests for the raw material, it's-it's not my problem." "Legally, we are in the clear." "Boss..." "You turning your back makes you just as guilty." "Check this out." "Personally, I feel bad." "But my job is to audit the company." "Nothing more." "Yeah, well, we got plenty more." "Phone records." "You received six calls from Fay Gussman in the last 24 hours." "She runs more than just the gun expo." "She owns the recycling company." "Well, look at that." "You and good ol' Guss are BFFs." "Let's ask her." "Go on." "You think she'll talk?" "Wait." "She called me when the vests were found in the crash." "She said she wanted to tie up loose ends so it didn't get back to her." "I didn't know that that meant murder." "You knew the vests were never gonna be recycled." "No." "But I want to call a lawyer." "You call Gussman first." "What?" "What for?" "You two are gonna have a meeting." "NCIS!" "Come out with your hands up!" "Go." "Bishop!" "Now!" "Bishop." "Bishop." "Bishop." "Oh, holy fish sticks, that hurt." "Lucky you got the real thing." "Can't say the same thing for Ms. Gussman." "She tried using one of those faulty vests as a last resort." "Is she dead?" "It all comes around, Bishop." "All right?" "Yeah." "Thanks." "Hey." "Hey, back." "Just got word from Afghanistan." "Marine unit made it back safely." "And since we found the rest of the faulty vests in Gussman's storage unit, all body armor is accounted for." "Mm, nice work." "You, too." "Thanks for including me." "It was good." "You ready to be back?" "Oh, no." "I think I still have a few things I need to figure out." "Plus, I need some more time with this puppy." "Although I'm thinking Bishop might need it more than me." "Hey!" "Hi, how you holding up?" "Bruised ribs." "Can't breathe." "Part of the job." "No, it isn't." "But the paperwork is." "Agent Gibbs?" "Do you mind if Tim gives me a ride home?" "Nah." "Make him take you to breakfast first." "Ooh." "That sounds good." "Actually, boss, I had another stop in mind." "It might take a little longer." "Take as long as you need, Tim." "What are you two talking about?" "Should I be worried?" "No." "Go." "Go!" "This is weird." "Kind of creepy." "Why is there a wheelchair in the middle of that field?" "Bull's-eye!" "Seven out of ten!" "I'll be right over," "Agent McGee." "So he's...?" "I wanted you to meet him." "He went through some of the same things you have, and... well, I thought a talk would be nice." "Thank you." "Come here." "But if we're already here, we should do more than just talk." "What do you mean?" "I've always wanted to go skydiving." "Skydiving?" "Mm." "I'll jump if you do." "Um... == sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man"