"Tango, check on a camera outage along Perimeter Three." "Copy?" "Copy that, Command." "Tango out." "So you gonna answer this question?" "Only one food you get to live on for the rest of your life." "Easy." "New England clam chowder." "Ew." "Really?" "You don't like chowder?" "I do, but come on-- every meal, every day?" "Oh, the creamy kind..." "No way I'd get tired of it." "You?" "Pizza." "Oh, right." "Pizza." "Damn." "Is it too late to change my answer?" "You can change it 100 times, Finny." "No one's got a gun to your head." "But I do have pizza in my head now, thank you very much." "Yum." "What the hell?" "Hey, this doesn't look right." "Halt!" "Hands where I can see them!" "Whoa." "Look, it's all good." "We're just fixing the fence." "Command said nothing about that." "We got a call from your HQ." "Looks like some joker with a wire cutter was trying to ruin your night." "What's with the crates?" "It's equipment." "Look, I can show you the work order." "I got it..." "Stop!" "Hands!" "I'll come to you!" "Tango to Command, come back." "We're about done here anyway." "Tango, this is Base." "Status report?" "Just checking into something now." "Stand by for update." "You don't look done." "And that's not equipment." "Call it in!" "Finn!" "Tango, report." "Leave it!" "Tango?" "They can't help you now." "Finn?" "Finn's gone, Missy." "There's no need for you to go with him." "Tango, report!" "♪ NCIS 13x16 ♪ Loose Cannons Original Air Date on February 23, 2016" "== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man" "♪ ♪ ...so, when I snuck home that night, there he was, waiting on the front porch." "You know, I still, uh, I still get a knot in my chest just thinking about it." "I mean, understand, my dad never hit us, you know." "His weapon of choice was disappointment." "And whenever I screwed up, he could throw a disappointed look across a room like a Joe Willie spiral." "And honestly, I'd rather get hit with a sack of nickels than that." "So, uh... how was your dad?" "Was he much of a disciplinarian?" "You know it's your move, right?" "Giving up your queen that easy?" "Screw my queen, Gibbs." "Quid pro quo." "I open up a revealing window into my childhood, you open one up, too." "No." "That's not the deal." "So screw our deal, too." "I said I would talk." "No head shrinking and no "opening windows."" "And no progress." "I'd learn just as much about you playing chess on my computer." "Okay." "What do you want to know?" "Honestly..." "I really want to know if you'd be willing to see an actual therapist." "No." "What for?" "What for?" "You were shot, you suffered trauma, much of it unseen." "Am I ringing any bells here?" "We agreed I don't need therapy." "Uh, no, you agreed." "And I think you'd feel differently about Grace." "My therapist." "And I know she gets a kick out of you." "Your therapist knows about me?" "Oh, I spend far too many sessions talking about you lately." "Why do you talk about me?" "It's not so much about you, per Se." "It's more about my unhealthy attachment to positive results." "It's not at all helpful in my chosen field, since no surgeon bats a thousand." "So whenever I hit a wall, or, in this case, you, it tends to bring up a whole host of unresolved issues." "Stop talking about me." "Let me introduce you to Grace and I won't have to anymore." "Gibbs." "Yes?" "Where?" "How many wounded?" "I'm on my way." "On my way." "Shooting in Reston?" "Naval Ops Center." "To be continued, then." "Ha!" "Bishop?" "You the first one here?" "I live closest." "Tony and McGee are en route." "Ducky, too." "This our only victim?" "So far." "Petty Officer First Class Lamar Finn." "His fellow Master-At-Arms," "Petty Officer First Class Janet Shor, was rushed to Walter Reed, along with one of the shooters." "GSWs on both." "Witnesses?" "Surveillance?" "Cameras had just gone down." "Personnel inside the compound heard multiple gunshots and at least one vehicle speed away." "Whoever it was, they knew how to get what they were after." "What'd they get?" "Uh, 15 to 20 crates, each containing a dozen M-16 rifles." "And a few thousand rounds of ammo to go with." "Here comes Ducky." "Yeah, go give him a hand, huh?" "Gibbs." "That was quick." "Change your mind about my shrink already?" "Hey, Doc, you in surgery yet?" "I'm about to be." "The petty officer?" "Uh, no, she's still with the trauma team." "No update on her yet." "The shooter." "That... is the card that I've just been dealt." "Unidentified male assailant with massive gunshot wounds." "I'm gonna want to talk to him." "I don't know." "He's pretty jacked up." "You keep him alive until I get there, Doc." "I'll do what I can." "No, Doc." "You keep him alive." "Hi." "Excuse me." "Looking for Dr. Taft." "I believe he is still in surgery." "Something I can help you with?" "Petty Officer Janet Shor." "I just left her." "She's been upgraded to "critical but stable."" "Apparently, she put up quite a fight." "Gibbs, what are you, uh...?" "Uh, yeah." "Our shooter." "Oh." "Well, the, uh, the damage to his aorta was pretty severe." "He lost a lot of blood." "Well, what then?" "What then what?" "He's dead, Gibbs." "Wait." "You lost him?" "Excuse me?" "Doc, we've got an arsenal of stolen weapons out there, and he's the only guy who knows where they went." "Well, sorry to run out of miracles on you, Gibbs." "Well, what?" "Did he say anything?" "Did he ever wake up?" "Uh, barely-- he was just mumbling to himself." "What'd he mumble?" "Ah, wasn't in English." "Uh, sounded European." "Maybe German?" "Fritz Beimler, 37." "He's been a wanted man in his native fatherland for quite a few years now." "Wanted for racketeering, robbery, counterfeiting, drug smuggling..." "Interpol's been tracking him for about a year," "They lost him four months ago in Zaire." "From outlaw in Africa to stealing military M-16s here." "Guy's a regular Fritz of All Trades." "Any word on Petty Officer Shor?" "No, we called earlier." "She is stable, but still unconscious." "Uh, you might want to call again." "I just left there and she's not only awake, but remarkably alert, considering her injuries." "McGee, Bishop, go talk to her." "DiNozzo, keep digging on Beimler." "And why are you here?" "Oh, and, uh, good morning to you, too." "Well, it looks like you've I.D.'d my latest failure." "Least I was right about the German part." "Yeah, Doc, about that..." "Ah, ah, ah." "You know, it's not you I came to see, Gibbs." "I'm here for your good Dr. Mallard." "Ducky?" "What for?" "Again with the "what fors."" "Must I really explain everything to you?" "You do if you want to see Ducky." "Um, something I noticed during surgery." "Could be nothing, but..." "Has he been autopsied yet?" "Petty Officer Finn never had a chance." "Death was instantaneous." "He absorbed a high-caliber round at point-blank range." "Abby's got the bullet?" "Well, yeah, they managed to recover it." "She's running ballistics as we speak." "To what do I owe the pleasure, Dr. Taft?" "Cyril, please." "I was just hoping to get a, a quick second look at an odd scar on your shooter's arm." "Yes, that caught my eye as well." "Here, let me check the X-ray." "Odd how, Doc?" "Well, for one thing, it's awful." "Sloppy lines, hastily stitched." "That is at least six months old." "And stitched with something other than sterile suture thread." "Exactly, like, uh, fishing line or common sewing thread." "It covers that metal plate that's screwed to his radius." "A bit large for the task, don't you think?" "Uh, yes, I-I do think." "Oh, wow." "Wow." "Hell, I can actually feel it under there." "Duck, get it out." "So it's not nothing, right?" "It's, uh, something." "Something you can use?" "Well, yeah, we'll take any lead we can get, including the hack who put it in here." "Would you care to do the honors, Cyril?" "Oh." "That would be just ducky, Ducky." "I've been dying to say that." "Well, you'd hardly be the first." "Jethro?" "Duck, get it out." "Get it up to Abby as quick as you can." "Yeah." "Hi." "Petty Officer Shor?" "NCIS Special Agents McGee and Bishop." "Is this a bad time?" "No, we were just..." "Just finishing up." "Agent Earl Kitt, ATF." "If there's anything else you can think of, Janet, give us a call." "Okay." "I'm glad you're okay." "You guys getting anywhere?" "Just getting started." "You?" "Ah, same." "Stolen guns are our business and a dead Navy kid is yours, so let's keep each other in the loop?" "Nothing wrong with a little interagency cooperation." "Amen to that." "I'll be in touch." "All right?" "Okay." "Sorry to barrage you with more questions, Janet." "I just can't believe it." "Me and Finny were just goofing around, like always, and the last thing I said to him... that no one had a gun to his head... it's one of those things you sort of say without thinking and... the next thing I knew, he..." "It's okay, Janet." ""Finn's gone."" "That's what he said to me." "With a smile on his face." "Was it this man who said it?" "No." "The one doing all the talking." "He called me "Missy."" "I can still see his face winking at me so clear." "Clear enough to describe him, maybe?" "Yeah." "Talk to me, Abbs." "Gibbs!" "Don't burst in on me like that." "It's how I always burst in." "You're right." "That was just before this titanium plate got me all freaked out." "Got you freaked out how?" "Well, our dueling doctors were right." "The plate was made for a much larger bone-- a femur, to be exact." "That's not too freaky." "Yeah." "Just hold on." "So, the serial number says that it was manufactured in Des Moines, Iowa, in 1995." "'95?" "Yeah, it's a 21-year-old plate, Gibbs, that somehow ended up in your shooter as recently as last year." "Where was it all that time?" "Father Carlin." "Who's that?" "According to the Des Moines lab, it was implanted by a Dallas orthopedic surgeon to repair the broken left femur of a Catholic priest named Carlin." "No first name listed." "Freaky." "Freaky's the word, boss." "You find him yet?" "Well, I have found two Father Carlins listed in Texas." "I'm just figuring out which one's ours." "Did I just hear right?" "Abby just told me and Ducky that the, uh..." "You're still with Ducky?" "...the plate that we pulled out of Beimler was originally in somebody else?" "Got him." "Father Girard Carlin." "One of two brothers in the priesthood." "This one was injured in a motorcycle accident in 1995." "Oh, yeah, that's our guy." "He still in Texas?" "No." "Not according to this memorial page." "Says he left Texas in '98 to pursue missionary work in..." "Huh." "What, DiNozzo?" "Where?" "Family lost contact with him in '03." "Listed him missing in '04." "He's now presumed dead." "Well, he's dead where?" "In the Sudan, boss." "South Sudan?" "Yeah." "American missionary work anywhere in Africa is hardly unusual." "True, Doc, but this is our second Africa reference of the day." "The first was Beimler in Zaire, and now this." "Ah, and what doctors do we know with experience in the Sudan?" "Oh, hey, what about our friends in the international doctors' group-- the-the ones you rescued." "Uh, David Woods and his wife Jeanne?" "There's no way they're involved, boss." "I didn't say they were." "Well, of course not, but they might know people who might know people." "And right now, we don't have a whole hell of a lot else to go on, do we, DiNozzo?" "No, we don't, boss." "Uh, mind if I tag along?" "I can explain the medical side of this little mystery better than either of you." "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" "No." "Maybe." "Kind of." "Okay, the more the merrier, Doc." "Come on." "I can use all the buffer I can get." "All right." "Just don't offer too much info, okay?" "I'll do the talking, and then I'll cue you when it's time for the medical lingo." "So, uh, how long were you two dating?" "Does her husband know?" "Who told you?" "Mm, no one." "You were clearly reluctant to come here-- not to mention how many times you checked your teeth in the rearview mirror." "Well, I don't think David knows." "I mean, I-I haven't talked to him since we got back from Africa, but I don't want anything breaking the truce." "Agent DiNozzo." "Dr. Woods." "Cyril Taft, long time." "Oh, too long." "Great to see you, uh, in the flesh, David-- alive and well." "Yeah, well, thanks to these guys." "And, uh, how's your wife, uh, the other Dr. Woods?" "Uh, Jeanne, is it?" "Yeah, she's great." "Out running errands." "If you can stick around," "I know she'd love to see you." "Oh, maybe next time." "We're just here to tap your resources, and we'll be on our way." "What resources?" "Back already." "Perfect timing." "Yeah, perfect." "Dr. Taft." "Tony." "Hi, Jeanne." "And you guys pulled this off some bad guy's radius?" "Seems kind of big." "Big and old." "Previously on the femur of a missionary priest who went missing in the Sudan about 12 years ago." "The Sudan." "That's what led you to us?" "Just on the off chance that you might know doctors over there who perform these kinds of procedures." "And rob graves for recycled parts?" "Well, it's not like we haven't seen this before, Jeanne." "Fairly common in third-world areas low on supplies-- it's whatever works over there." "Well, it's not the recyclers we're after." "It's the doctor who put the recycled part in our bad guy." "Hoping they can, uh, point us to some of the bad guy's friends." "I'd be happy to call the doctors that we know over there and see who knows what." "Appreciate that." "You kidding me?" "After what you guys did for us?" "Yeah, I've been wanting to invite you and Agent McGee out for a big dinner sometime." "Oh, no, that's not necessary." "Not necessary." "I keep telling David you were just doing your jobs." "I was just doing my job." "Okay, well," "I'm gonna have to think of something else." "We owe you our lives, after all." "Uh, one more thing-- I hope you don't mind me asking-- what'd your bad guy do, anyway?" "Oh, uh, killed a young petty officer and stole a bunch of guns, apparently." "Wait, what?" "Uh, no, Jeanne, that's not..." "Stolen weapons, Tony?" "Is that why you're here?" "No, Jeanne, it isn't." "Look, it never even crossed our mind." "Are you saying that this is about your father?" "No." "Look, I swear to you, this is about doctors in Africa." "It has nothing to do with your father." "Yeah, okay." "Fine." "Excuse me." "Uh..." "All right, well, look," "I'll make these calls for you." "I'll get back to you." "All right?" "Talk soon." "Thank you." "So, what's this about her father?" "Jeanne Benoit?" "Really?" "How'd it go, Tony?" "You okay?" "Well, aside from Taft verbally ripping the bandage off a very delicate wound, it was super awesome, thanks." "What about her husband David?" "That weird?" "Not at all." "He's a lovely guy." "In fact, he wants to take us out for a fancy dinner to thank us for saving his life in Africa." "Excellent." "Can I bring Delilah?" "In place of me, absolutely." "Update on the hospital." "Uh, Petty Officer Shor gave us a great description of one of the suspects." "Abby's running facial recognition now." "She also remembered a lot of details about the vehicle." "Black step-up van, Maryland plates." "I already put out a BOLO." "Good." "How about you?" "It weird, her and the husband?" "Do you really want to know?" "No." "They give us anything?" "Not much, but they're eager to help." "They're calling their network in Africa for any possible leads." "Taft?" "You sent him home." "Are you kidding?" "You are not gonna believe this, Gibbs." "There's a lot I don't believe, Doc." "Look what Ducky found lodged beside Beimler's L5 vertebrae." "Another bullet from the shooting?" "Not last night's shooting." "The scar tissue indicates that it's been encapsulated there for years." "Likely left there by a surgeon, not wanting to risk paralysis by removing it." "Old bullets, titanium plates." "This was a bad-ass cat on his tenth life, Gibbs." "I didn't lose him, it was finally his time to go." "You're still on that, Doc?" "Get over it, come on." "Jethro, Abby came up empty on the first bullet." "Perhaps this one could prove fortuitous." "I'll drop it by on my way out." "Your way out?" "You're leaving?" "Yeah, we both are." "You hungry?" "I had no idea, Gibbs, I mean, the thrill of the investigation." "I-I think I may have missed my calling." "You want to be a cop now?" "Uh, doctor-slash-cop." "Why not?" "It's..." "It certainly would be a happier hobby than being your therapist." "Here it comes." "Uh, speaking of which, have you, uh, given my suggestion any thought?" "Yes, in all my free time." "At last, the infamous Agent Gibbs." "Lady... save your breath." "You're barking up the wrong tree." "Oh, Gibbs..." "Look, if you want to quit, quit, okay?" "I don't need you." "I don't need your shrink." "I-I don't need whoever would take your place." "Gibbs, this is Catherine." "My wife." "Sorry to crash your guy time." "Oh, my office." "Why don't you two get acquainted." "Bad start." "It's all in how you finish." "So, you know, Cyril doesn't tell me much, but I... understand that we do have a few things in common." "Some personal loss?" "Not as recent as yours." "Yeah, well... there's no clock on it." "I mean, time heals, right?" "But never enough." "Look, before he comes back, I just..." "I just wanted to thank you real quick for being Cyril's friend." "We've been through a lot since losing Paul." "And, um, well, I think this sparring that you guys do-- it's good for him." "You're good for him, Gibbs." "Very good." "Not as good as he's been for me." "Not that you're gonna tell him that." "Oh, no." "His head's already big enough." "Okay, that's enough about me-- scooch." "Don't you guys ever get a break?" "Hey, Bishop." "What do you got?" "Metro PD found it off our BOLO." "No sign of the M-16 crates, but we did find blood in the front seat." "Beimler wasn't the only one hit." "Looks that way." "All right." "Dust for prints." "Give 'em to Abby to comb through." "Wait, hold on." "Abby's calling." "Speak of the devil." "Hey, were your ears burning?" "Why?" "Who are you talking to?" "Gibbs and Bishop." "We're in an alley downtown." "We found the van." "Well, can you leave?" "I need to talk to you-- you, and Gibbs." "What is it, Abbs?" "That you couldn't say on the phone?" "It's about the bullet that Ducky pulled from Beimler's spine." "There's a signature notch on it that I was able to trace to a batch that was already in our system." ""Our system"?" "You mean it's one of ours?" "No, it was part of a stolen batch that we had recorded as evidence." "In our system almost as long as the bullet was in Beimler." "What are you saying, Abby?" "Well, I never wanted to say this name ever, ever again." "But the bullet... traces back... to La Grenouille." "Oh, no." "No, no, no, boss, we can't." "I just promised Jeanne this had nothing to do with her father." "Well, looks like you were wrong." "Looks like you haven't touched your breakfast burrito yet, Tony." "Not hungry, Tim." "I'm feeling a fever come on." "Maybe I should go home." "You'll be fine." "I won't be fine." "Nothing's gonna be fine." "Any update on the van?" "Still waiting on the DNA from the blood, but we did confirm that La Grenouille is connected." "Fingerprints?" "Abby matched them from his steering wheel to one of his former henchman." "His name is Oskar Bruenig, 42 years old." "Wait, that is, uh, not Bruenig." "Come on, stop messing around and take that down." "She's gonna be here any second." "Yeah, I know." "I-I loaded Bruenig's mug shot" "Ah, hold on." " I'll fix this." " Right over here." "Gibbs... this is Dr. David Woods, and I believe you know" "Dr. Jeanne Benoit-Woods." "Whatever we can do for you, Agent Gibbs." "Thank you." "Actually I'd like to talk your wife." "What about?" "I got it up, boss." "You lied to me, you son of a bitch." "Jeanne, we did not know then." "You swore to me that it wasn't about my father, but it was." "Jeanne, don't lose your cool..." "Let's all take this upstairs, all right?" "Déjà vu." "We made the connection last night." "Your father's not a suspect." "Obviously... you aren't, either." "Then what am I doing here?" "Well, we're wondering what you might know about one of his men." "He's one of three men we believe stole weapons from a Naval base, killed a young petty officer." "Does he have a name?" "Oskar Bruenig." "He is a native of Austria, and wanted in three countries." "I know the face and recall an accent." "But his name wasn't Oskar." "He was my dad's driver." "He's a lot more than that now." "What name did you know him by?" "Oh, what was it?" "It was so long ago." "I was still in med school." "Your dad was in the business of selling weapons, guns, to bad guys." "Yeah, I don't need you to remind me." "We do need you to think." "This guy learned from your dad." "And there are 300" "M-16's out there right now, that are missing." "You know who should have an M-16?" "Soldiers." "Pierre." "That was it." "I'm pretty sure my dad called him Pierre." "Look, David," "I hope you know this is almost as difficult for me as it is for Jeanne." "Key word there being "almost."" "Fair enough." "And I hope you know that while I am truly grateful," "I'm not giving up Jeanne." "Excuse me?" "I see the way you look at her." "Frankly, the way that she looks at you would trouble me a bit if I didn't know your history." "So you know." "I'm her husband." "I know everything." "Just like I know when affairs end badly, like yours most certainly did, they have a way of staying under the skin whether you want them to or not." "She's not under my skin, David." "It's not your skin I'm worried about." "Excuse me, Jeanne, I just wanted to apologize if there was any misunderstanding." "Uh..." "Can you give us a minute?" "Sure." "Um, what... don't I understand, Tony?" "I just want to be really clear that when we came to see you yesterday, it had nothing to do with your father." "Okay, then, so we're good now?" "Or will you one day find another reason to stop by?" "And always at the precise moment when I'm starting to feel whole again." "I just thought after Africa, that we had put that" "Ride's here, Jeanne." "Um, I'm still on call, Gibbs, but I got time to pitch in if you need me." "What's our next move?" "Our next move?" "I'm not finding any Pierre Bruenigs here, Gibbs." "McGee?" "Uh, got a Pierre Oskar, with a" K."" "Where?" "Last known address is Reston, Virginia." "Worth a try." "Can I tag along?" "Nope." "No more tagging." "Aw, Gibbs..." "No." "You got your job, we got our job." "Go do your job." "But my slate is wide open." "I don't even have to make rounds." "Then go play hooky." "Go spend time with your wife." "Take her out to lunch." "Take her to the movies." "She deserves it... after putting up with you." "Hmm, yeah, you're right about that." "I can't even remember the last time I played hooky." "Then go do it." "Your dad wouldn't be disappointed." "Promise you." "Federal agents!" "This our guy?" "That's him." "Two in the chest." "ATF!" "NCIS!" "NCIS!" "You guys again." ""Again"?" "Yeah, we met him at the hospital." "Agent Kitt, right?" "McGee and Bishop?" "When did you guys figure out the Oskar connection?" "Same time you did, apparently." "And we're both too late." "I thought we agreed to share information." "That's a two-way street." "Doesn't matter now." "Detonators." "I wonder what he was planning to do with those?" "The whole theater to ourselves." "We probably could've fooled around." "Well, we'll consider this a recon mission." "Now we know matinees are, shall we say "roomy,"" "uh, we can plan accordingly for next time." "Ooh, I like the sound of that." "What-- "roomy"?" ""Next time."" "Oh!" "So much for playing hooky." "Oh... oh, I'm gonna need a minute." "Okay, give me the keys." "I'm gonna start the car." "I'm a little chilly." "Dr. Taft." "Uh, okay." "Let's just, uh, up his dose to 50 migs every hour." "And what else we got?" "Oh, no." "Come on." "What is that?" "Come on, come on." "Okay." "Can you move my 5:00 to 6:30?" "And that way we can get him into..." "Something's wrong with the car." "Okay." "I'm gonna have to call you back." "What?" "I don't know." "It's making a sound." "I've never heard this before." "I just had it in the shop." "Hey." "You all right?" "Um..." "Considering, you know." "They might, uh, keep her overnight." "Ears ringing, heart pounding." "Like mine, actually." "You know what happened?" "Don't you?" "Cars don't just explode." "I let their friend die on that table." "That is obvious revenge." "Come on." "Sit down." "Sit down." "It's gonna be okay." "Just sit down." "No, it's not okay." "Who the hell am I to be playing a cop?" "I have enough trouble just being a doctor." "Oh, no, disagree with you there, Doc." "All sizzle, no steak." "Consumed with my own... healing," "I've been completely ignoring the-the one person, the most important person." "The only one I have left." "You still got her." "You still got each other." "Which is why I'm leaving." "We've been promising each other, for years, that we were gonna take a long trip someday." "If not around the world, then close to it." "Someday." "Mm." "Dumb excuses, you know?" "Uh, Paul was too little." "We were too busy." "We were gonna wait till Paul grew up and could be on his own." ""If the world were perfect, it wouldn't be."" "Uh, is that..." "Did you just quote Yogi Berra?" "Yeah, my dad, he was, he was a big Yogi fan." "Big." "Used to always tell me that as a kid." "Whenever I got down." ""If the world were perfect, it wouldn't be."" "Yeah." "Take that trip, Doc." "Soon." "I'll check in on you." "Yeah, McGee, on my way." "This is a big deal." "I'm deeply touched by your concern, Bishop, but, seriously, I'm fine." "Well, I want to believe you, Tony, except that I would so not be fine." "Yeah, I will double that." "Jeanne, David, all those looks." "I would say that "awkward"" "doesn't even begin to describe that." "Mm-hmm." "Okay, "super-awkward" then, which I admit it was." "But now that the case is basically over, maybe we can just move on?" "What do you mean, it's over?" "Gibbs, how are they?" "Taft and his wife, what happened?" "They're all right." "What's over?" "Well, after you, uh, left for the hospital, we got a call from ATF Agent Kitt." "Shared some information with us." "What information?" "They found the guns." "Um, unfortunately, too late again." "They were already on a plane to the Ukraine to be sold in their black market." "What about the third shooter?" "They're assuming he's on the same plane." "That's the "basically" part, boss." "ATF found the guns, but we're not giving up on the shooter." "Kitt said they'd take it from here, but, uh, they'd keep us in the loop." "Oh, I want to hear that in person." "Have a seat." "Is this a joke?" "I show you the professional courtesy of dragging my ass down here late at night for an interrogation room?" "Tell me what's going on." "What do you mean?" "I told your agents." "Didn't they tell you?" "Yeah." "Got me to wondering." "You show up at the hospital just before us, at Oscar's place just after us." "What is it you're afraid we might find?" "Find?" "What else is there to find?" "I've crossed paths with ATF before, tracking stolen weapons to see where they landed." "ATF told us it was not our concern, and it didn't end well, so... that's the game you're playing, tell me now, amigo." "Don't waste my time." "It's a top-secret op." "Military weapons have been disappearing for years, so we installed these tracking chips." "Not anticipating this robbery but... when it happened, it seemed like a... good opportunity to test our system." "So you've been tracking 'em from the start." "Technically." "Uh, rather than scoop the guns up, we've been waiting to see where they went." "These guys killed a petty officer and they tried to kill my friend." "Tough call, I know." "So there is no plane to the Ukraine?" "No." "No, the guns and ammo have been divvied up and sent off in multiple directions, right here at home." "Who is our third shooter?" "I don't know." "But I might be able to track down which gun he's got." "Dare you to pick that up Missy." "Last visit, I promise." "What do you want, Tony?" "Well..." "Is David here?" "He went home." "We..." "He went home." "Well, I just wanted to tell the both of you that the case is closed." "We caught the bad guys, guns have been found, sort of, and, uh, we won't need to bother your doctor friends in Africa." "Good to know." "Thank you." "My pleasure." "I mean... not..." "Whatever." "I had a crazy night." "You always work this late?" "David and I got in a fight, Tony." "All this talk about you and me and my dad led to an actual fight, which never happens." "Rarely." "Sorry to hear that." "But, again, I..." "I had no intention of coming back here." "It was just the case, and McGee said..." "Whatever." "It can't happen again." "I know." "Trust me." "What you said yesterday, about me dropping in just when you... start feeling whole again." "And what about it?" "I know that feeling." "The not feeling whole part." "Do you?" "And if I had one wish, Jeanne..." "What?" "...I would turn back the clock, to right when we got back from South Sudan." "Because I think that was a much better ending for both of us." "What?" "I guess I would go back further." "Good night, Tony." "Good night." "Good-bye, Tony." "Bye." "How low can we go?" "You talking to me?" "Stood up at a diner." "Makes us both pretty sad cases, I'm just saying." "Nah, I'm not sad." "Or stood up." "Yeah, right." "I got a friend coming." "Doesn't everybody?" "I need a ten-letter word for "polished metal."" "Good luck with that." "Not big on crosswords?" "No, no, I'm not... big." "I'm not..." "Too busy." "Not being stood up." "All right, what about platinum?" "P-L-A-T-I..." "It's only eight letters." "Try "brightwork."" "Brightwork?" "For polished metal?" "Well, yeah, it can be that, or-or varnished wood on a boat or ship." "B-R-I-G-H-T..." "I can spell." "Hey, it fits!" "Smarter than you look." "I have never been accused of looking smart." "Too pretty." "But smart enough about boats." "You a sailor?" "Okay." "Give me another one." "Rather not quit while you're ahead?" "I'll roll the dice." "I'm sure you've rolled your share." "Seven-letter word." "Rejuvenation." "Rejuvenation?" "There an echo in here?" "Any letters?" "Um, ends with an "L."" "No first letter?" "If I had a first letter here, Popeye," "I wouldn't need you." "Renewal." "What now?" "Ends with an "L." Renewal." "Seven letters." "Damn." "Not bad." "Not bad at all." "You ready for another, Popeye?" "It's, uh... it's Gibbs." "But I think you know that." "Don't you, Grace?" "That's Dr. Confalone to you." "You ready?" "Ready." "== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man"