(tires squealing)
(tires screeching)
(brakes screeching)
(gunshot)
(tires screeching)
Captioning sponsored by CBS PARAMOUNT NETWORK TELEVISION
Where is McGee?
I don't know.
He's been acting distracted lately.
Gibbs is on his case.
I have noticed.
So, um,
did you know Special Agent Patterson?
Not really. Met him in a crime scene training class
at FLETC. Seemed like a nice guy.
Give McGee a call.
Tell him we're waiting.
TONY: I have a message.
WOMAN: Good afternoon, I'm calling
from Hubbard & Hubbard, solicitor's office...
Sorry. There was an accident on MacArthur.
Let's go.
That was strange.
A law firm in London wants me to call.
Says it's important.
What could they want?
I don't know. Maybe it's about my Uncle Clive.
Remember that funeral I went to last month?
Your uncle really died?
I thought you were making that up
to get some time off.
Who do you think I am?
GIBBS: He was Agent Afloat on the George Washington.
It returned to Norfolk two days ago.
You notified Director Vance?
Yeah. It's way after midnight in Singapore.
I sent him an e-mail.
(horn beeps)
(sighs)
Sorry, boss. Got hung up in traffic.
ZIVA: 911 came from the pastry chef
at the restaurant on the corner.
He was in the kitchen
when he heard the screech of tires. Ran out.
Caught sight of a dark-colored SUV racing away.
He did not here any shots. Silencer?
Or a small-caliber weapon that doesn't make much noise.
ZIVA: Ducky said the entry wounds were small.
Yeah. One shot was behind the ear, close-range.
Professional hit.
Jethro, you might want to take a look at this.
Hey, DiNozzo, bring him in.
Homeland Security. Got it. (dialing)
Tony, why'd you cover for me?
Did I?
This is Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS.
Please call me back...
Patterson never got a shot off. The mag's full.
Hey, boss, I reached his office.
Voice mail. Left a message.
DiNozzo, cell phone on the back of the card.
Oh, good eye.
(dialing) I don't know how I could have missed that.
Bartholomew Lemming, this is Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.
I need you to stop by...
Special Agent Gibbs, I got a woman
who insists on talking to you.
Claims she's with NCIS. Real weirdo.
Wearing a Dracula cape and dog collar.
Like she'd be with you.
She is.
You serious?
Oh, yeah. Let her in.
Sorry about that.
Go ahead.
Abbs, what are you doing here?
Is that him?
Is that Jack Patterson?
What are you doing here, Abby?
This is terrible.
Abby...
This is all my fault.
Gibbs, he was coming to see me.
Agent Jack Patterson.
It's not what I thought he'd look like.
Said you knew him.
We had a very special phone relationship.
He would mail me forensic evidence,
I'd e-mail him back results.
He'd call me, I'd call him.
He never forgot my birthday... like you did
last year.
I don't know. It's his voice.
He sounded... shorter,
blonder, with a mustache.
You got all that from his voice, Abbs?
You sounded different when you had a mustache.
Well, why was he coming to see you?
He said he wanted to show me something.
What?
I don't know.
He wanted to meet up last night.
And I... I put him off.
I told him to come this morning.
Gibbs, if... if I had just
met up with him last night,
he'd probably be alive right now.
Oh, well, it's a little after 10:00
in the morning here.
I can be reached on my cell at any time.
You did write that number down?
Good. Tell Mr. Hubbard
that I anxiously await his call,
and you have yourself a very nice day or night,
or whatever time it is there.
(mimics English accent): Okay, cheerio.
(laughs)
I suppose that was for my benefit.
Okay, I'll bite.
Uh, are you in the will?
McProbie, we can only assume, right?
That was his secretary. Mr. Hubbard,
my great-uncle's solicitor wasn't available,
but she did confirm that he represents Uncle Clive's estate.
Clive DiNozzo.
Clive Paddington. It's my mother's side.
We talking big money?
Huge money! (laughs)
I mean, Jed Clampett money.
I'm talking Texas gold.
It's actually North Sea oil money.
I take it you were close to the old gent.
I spent my 17th summer in Blighty.
Uncle Clive was my mentor.
Kind of like Al Pacino and Chris O'Donnell in Scent of a Woman.
Whoo-ah!
Guessing the opposite sex was involved.
He could sniff out a gorgeous woman
and close the deal faster than anyone I ever met.
DiNozzo, I'm more concerned about closing that case.
I'm working on it, boss.
Uh, right. Um...
The George Washington returned from a six-month deployment
to South and Central America.
Special Agent Patterson
was still living on board in Norfolk.
Was looking for an apartment.
No one knew he left the ship and was in D.C.
Ten years in the Navy, joined NCIS in '98.
He had a setback in 2003.
Spent some time on the beach for use of excessive force.
Never married. Only immediate family:
a mother and a sister living in Wheeling, West Virginia.
Special Agent Gibbs,
Bartholomew Lemming, Homeland Security.
Call me Bart, Agent Gibbs.
Anthony DiNozzo.
We're in the conference room.
(phone ringing)
Oh-ho! Oh.
My life is about to change.
Thinks he's about to inherit a fortune.
(scoffs)
Anthony DiNozzo.
Oh, yeah.
Okay, as soon as I can. Sorry.
Blockbuster. Rosemary's Baby, it's overdue.
I met Jack Patterson
shortly after I joined Homeland Security.
I was assigned to Customs Border Protection Division.
He was working out of the NCIS Resident Agency
in Yuma, Arizona, so we coordinated
on incursions and smuggling cases.
When was the last time you heard from him?
He left me a message last night.
I was gonna call him
when I got to the office this morning.
Said he was working a case
and he found something he wanted to show me. Yeah?
What did he want to show you?
Mm-mnh.
What's he working on?
I don't know.
Jack and I were friendly in Yuma.
You know how it goes.
We lost contact with one another.
How did he die?
Shot. Think he was on his way here.
And he had my business card in his hand. Why?
You tell me.
We had some good times.
Jack could put them down.
He knew how to party.
We were single then.
Took the plunge last year.
What can I do to help?
I don't know yet.
You have my cell number.
That's the best way to reach me.
I'm in the field this week.
Well, Joint Threat Assessment Task force with the FBI.
I wish you luck with that.
(chuckles)
Um, hey.
You know, we always said that, um, we would meet someday.
This isn't exactly what I expected.
God, this is awkward.
Um...
when you called me last night, you sounded, uh,
you know, excited.
Said you had to see me.
I thought you meant a date.
I mean, did you want to go out, or was it something else?
Was I just jumping to conclusions?
I... God, I didn't know what to say to Gibbs.
Oh, no, are you behind me, Gibbs?
You flatter me, Abby.
There was just... there was something I needed to ask Special Agent Patterson.
Abby...
What?
You talk to dead people all the time.
Well, I have my reasons.
Their bodies tell me a great deal.
It helps to reciprocate.
But we have work to do.
I need the slugs.
You'll get them...
in due time.
(pats shoulder)
WEIDMAN: Patterson was supposed to be finishing up paperwork
on the deployment.
I have no idea why he was in Washington.
He's NCIS--
don't you know?
Anything unusual happen during the deployment?
Well, 6,500 men and women,
six months, seven tropical ports-- the usual.
Alcohol, fighting, petty thefts.
All in Patterson's daily activity log-- nothing major.
Excuse me, Commander?
Yes?
Could you identify these photos?
It's the last file Patterson opened yesterday afternoon.
These images were downloaded from a digital camera.
TONY: Ooh.
Nine tac, 35 tac, six tac A.
That would be a forward port-side storage area.
I spent four glorious months aboard the Seahawk.
It was a rewarding experience.
This part of an investigation, Commander?
WEIDMAN: Hey, it's a big ship,
on a cruise to South America.
A misguided sailor might think
he'll be able to smuggle drugs aboard.
I'm not getting a signal down here.
You expecting a call, DiNozzo?
They'll leave a message.
Patterson and I worked well together.
He understood the demands
on the X.O.
Usually didn't come to me until he had something.
(clears throat)
Wow, if you were thinking of smuggling something,
this would be the perfect hiding place.
Check it out.
Uh, boss, it's, it's pretty late.
This could take hours,
and then it's a long drive back to Washington.
Well, most of the crew's on leave.
You'll find a place to bunk.
Oh, perfect.
22-caliber.
This one's in pristine shape.
I like pristine.
ROY: Hey, Abby.
Ziva.
Hey, Roy.
Ah, U.S. mail.
You mean overnight carrier.
No, no, U.S. mail.
Someone dropped this in the mailbox.
No postage.
'Cause it was addressed to NCIS,
the postal inspector gave us a call.
It's addressed to me?
Well, you could say that.
It's a credit card receipt.
It's Jack Patterson.
Did the, um, postal inspector say
where it was mailed from?
Um... 400 block of K Street.
That's where Patterson was killed.
So... he knew he was in jeopardy,
and his last desperate act was to mail this?
He wanted this to get to me even he didn't.
He died getting me this?
There has to be a reason he sent it to you.
I don't know.
I mean, maybe he guessed
the little girl looked like me, or...
No, that's... stupid.
I-I don't know.
You ever talk about art?
When you weren't talking
about forensic evidence,
what'd you talk about?
Well, that's personal, Gibbs.
I feel like you're interrogating me.
I am.
Okay, she's reading a book.
The book got a title?
No.
Abby, Patterson died
getting this to you.
I know.
This is totally weirding me out.
All right, you said you had a match on the slug.
Yeah.
(sighs): Okay.
The one on the left is one that Ducky took from Patterson.
I ran it through the NIBIN database.
It's an exact match to the one on the right,
which was used...
in the unsolved murder
of a businessman in Scottsdale, Arizona, two years ago.
(whistling a tune)
MAN OVER P.A.: Chief Engineering Officer Santori...
(keypad beeping)
(buzzing)
McGee?
(clatter in distance)
Ow!
(groans)
(chuckles)
Hey.
What are you doing in there?
Our jobs.
I'm looking for contraband.
I found this.
You are looking good.
What have we here?
We?
Where were you while I'm down there banging my head, huh?
Skinning my knees?
I was up on the flight deck,
trying to get a cell signal.
I've been playing phone tag
with Uncle Clive's solicitor.
Screw your Uncle Clive.
You haven't done anything all morning.
Whoa, whoa.
What's with you, McCranky?
You need to chill-ax.
You want me to chill-ax? You want me to chill-ax?
I will chill-ax when you tell me that you have done something!
I have done something.
I went over Special Agent Patterson's
e-mails and daily activity log.
Four days ago,
he did a background check
on a Seaman Richard Zell.
He's had him under surveillance since Panama.
Zell... is one of only three people
with the access code to this storage bay.
Where's Seaman Zell now?
Well, according to the ship's duty roster log,
he's due back on board in an hour.
You make anything of it?
Yeah. I'm aware of the artist.
Dina Risi.
I admired her work in Yuma.
I should've bought it then; I can't afford it now.
Any idea why Patterson would've sent it to our lab?
I've been trying to make a connection between the painting and Jack,
but I can't.
ZIVA: That was a Scottsdale
homicide detective-- it made his day when I told him
the weapon that killed Special Agent Patterson
was the same one that was used
in the murder of a local businessman by the name of...
Hamilton Cooper.
They have not had any movement
on the case in the past two years.
He is e-mailing me their case file.
You think Patterson's death had anything to do
with the time he and I were stationed in Yuma?
Do you?
Well, we did some joint operations.
I'll make some phone calls, go back through the files, see what I can dig up.
Uncle Clive's primary residence
is this manor house that's just outside of Henley on Thames.
You have to come
and visit sometime.
In the summer,
they have these, uh, annual regattas.
(affected accent): It's absolutely smashing.
Tony, shut up.
What I wouldn't give for a sock full of horse manure.
La-di-da! Look at you, fancy-pants-movie-reference.
Annie Hall, 1977.
Really Woody Allen's best.
Hey, did I tell you about Clive's, uh,
muse in London?
Really, do you have any idea
how insufferable you are?
What are you doing? Hey.
You're dripping paint all over the place.
McGEE: Look, you see
what you're doing there?
Look at what I'm doing, okay?
Watch. You do...
even strokes.
You see that?
Uh-huh. Nice, even strokes.
We're pretend painting, McGoo.
Whoa.
Keep that away from me.
(keypad beeping)
(buzzing, door opens)
(door closes)
(keypad beeping)
(door opens)
Hi.
NCIS.
Put your hands behind your head,
spread your legs.
(grunts)
TONY: Oh, God!
(yells)
God!
I don't need this crap!
I'm about to be a very wealthy man.
(exhales): Oh.
ABBY: I fumed it with cyanoacrylate.
There's dozens of prints.
So far I've been able to I.D. two:
Special Agent Patterson and Roy from our mailroom.
So many prints, so little time.
But...
I tried something else.
How long do you think
it takes ballpoint pen ink to dry?
Like, really, really dry.
Abbs.
Four to five days.
I removed the clear plastic window
from the carton, and I coated the inside with a solvent,
lifting the ink residue left
by the original sender's mailing label.
I heat-transferred it to a clean piece of paper,
then I scanned it...
What's it say? I can't make it out.
I'm not done yet, Gibbs.
And I ran it through
an enhancement program.
The package was sent to Patterson
from the artist, Dina Risi.
And there's her phone number.
Well, give yourself an atta-girl.
Atta-girl. Atta-girl.
You get anywhere with the painting?
Never enough for you, Gibbs, is it?
Went right to voice mail-- she's got her phone turned off.
You know we've got you for drugs...
and assaulting a Federal officer.
(exhales)
So why don't you tell me what was going down
between you and Agent Patterson.
Yeah, I punched him.
Yeah.
Yeah, the coke is mine.
But I told you, it's a big ship,
I didn't know Patterson.
TONY: Well, he knew you.
Had you under surveillance since the ship left Panama.
He may have killed Special Agent Patterson,
but Seaman Zell
could not have killed the Arizona businessman.
According to his service records,
he was aboard a frigate
on his way to the Persian Gulf at the time of the murder.
TONY: Tell me why you didn't.
I was just trying to make a couple bucks.
Could you live on an E-3 salary?
What did you pay for the coke?
$2,000.
I'm going home to Brooklyn on leave next week.
On the street, I can get 20.
Well, you'll be lucky if you get 25... years...
for murder.
Boss, his alibi for yesterday morning checks out.
Patterson was shot at 5:40 a.m.
30 minutes later, Seaman Zell
was withdrawing
$40 from an ATM
on the base at Norfolk. That's 200 miles away.
Even you couldn't drive that fast, boss.
Based on the amount of drugs involved,
we're pretty sure that Seaman Zell was working alone.
So I don't have a serious smuggling problem
aboard the Washington.
A new NCIS Agent
will be assigned this week.
He'll follow up.
What's to follow up?
I thought you said Seaman Zell didn't have
any connection to Special Agent Patterson's death.
It's an ongoing investigation.
We're returning him to your command.
Suggest you put him in pre-trial confinement.
TONY: He say anything?
Feel like the guy's got an agenda?
What do we got?
McGee, tell him about the e-mail.
Doesn't sound like Patterson shared Commander Weidman's
feelings about them working well together.
Patterson told the captain in an e-mail
that he felt Weidman was
obstructing some of his investigations.
Got a call into the captain.
ZIVA: Gibbs, Dina Risi,
the artist, she's starting to be recognized outside Arizona.
Had a showing in San Francisco in December.
She specializes in landscapes.
She grew up in Italy, studied art in Milan,
moved to Arizona about ten years ago.
Dina Risi's always been
very outspoken on ecological issues.
I did talk to the local sheriff--
guy by the name of Clay Boyd.
(imitating Boyd): And he said that he was looking for her,
but she, well, she just disappeared.
Disappeared?
Disappeared.
Like she just fell off the face of the earth.
He talks just like that.
That's how he talks.
(normal voice): I won't though.
Says that she has
a remote, mountain retreat where likes to go and paint,
but he doesn't know where it is.
Find it, McGee.
Think I did, boss.
I only used Risi paintings
that have distinctive geographical landmarks.
Compared them to Google Earth satellite images.
These locations correspond to backgrounds in her paintings.
They're all within a four-mile radius of Mount Pinos.
Searched the area, only found one structure.
This was taken six months ago.
Good. See if she's there.
Piece of cake, Probie.
ZIVA: Ooh.
A Ferrari.
599 GTB.
You are counting your eggs before they are laid.
Operative word is "laid."
Wouldn't drink that.
Sure I've had worse.
What do you have?
I think I know who's at the center of this.
Dina Risi, the artist.
Get this: I talked to a bartender at a place
Jack and I used to hang.
After I left Arizona,
Jack used to come in with her.
Bartender hinted they were a lot more than just friends.
Might explain why Dina Risi sent Patterson the painting.
You talk to her yet?
No. She went into hiding.
We may have a location though.
Mount Pinos.
That's the badlands.
Good luck finding her up there.
I'm e-mailing the lawyer in London.
All right? The suspense is killing me.
I did not ask.
Um, I have
the Scottsdale Police report
on the murder of Hamilton Cooper, the local businessman.
Anything?
Yes. (typing)
He was worth $20 million.
Investigators suspected
his wife hired a hit man.
She was conveniently out of town.
Shooter used a .22.
Multiple hits to the body.
One to the head, right behind the ear.
Just like Patterson.
Well, I guess that lets Commander Weidman off the hook.
Ooh.
Boss.
Tasked an NSA satellite.
I got an infrared image of the cabin here.
Heat signature
from the fireplace.
Somebody's there.
Ziva, you and McGee work the case from here.
DiNozzo, go home, pack.
Where am I going?
We're going to Arizona.
Okay. (groans)
Arizona and I don't get along.
* If kick tomorrow, would you stick with me? *
* Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh *
* I know I'm not as straight as I would like to be *
* Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh *
* And though it's hard enough as it is *
* Tomorrow still comes...
Sheriff Boyd?
Yes, sir.
Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.
Hey. Special Agent DiNozzo.
How are you?
DiNozzo.
Is that an Italian name?
What?
Any word on Dina Risi?
Nope.
We tried all our sources.
No one seems to know where she went.
You know her?
Well, I met her. She was chained to a tree.
I was the one with the bolt cutters and handcuffs.
(chuckles)
Let me show you where we're
aiming to go, Sheriff.
We think she's in a small cabin in, uh, this area here.
Are you expecting to go to a dance
while you're here in town, Agent DiNozzo?
(chuckles)
Why don't we take our four-wheeler.
You know, the rental.
You can't get up there in a vehicle.
Only way to get up there is horses.
Why don't we just requisition a helicopter?
Or not.
If the government
spent that kind of money every time
they interviewed somebody, government would go broke, huh?
The government is broke.
That was security.
Bart Lemming is on his way up.
Oh, maybe he's got something for us.
(phone ringing)
That could be London.
Answer it.
What, and have Tony harass me some more
about my message-taking skills?
No, thank you.
I'll get it.
Why? You're gonna
tell them he's not here,
they're not gonna tell you anything.
(Ziva sighs)
I think you are jealous Tony's going to inherit money.
No, I just think that it could change him.
Which in Tony's case would be a good thing.
Unless he becomes more...
Tony-ish.
I see your concern.
But you did not change
when your books made you plush.
Flush.
Thanks, Ziva, but it really wasn't that much.
I bought my car, bought some clothes.
What was left over, I put in a hedge fund which just crashed.
Sorry.
That is why you've been so distracted lately.
It shows, huh?
Whoa. Easy.
(grunting)
You ever saddled a horse, DiNozzio?
Me?
Saddle?
Uh... uh...
No, not really.
You have ridden, ain't you?
Sure. Oh, yeah.
Eighth birthday party.
Pony rides and-and, uh, stuff like that.
Well, this should be interesting.
(chuckles): Yeah. Give me that. Give me that.
Here you go. I got it.
Oh, it's a lot of leather.
Here we go.
I'm looking for Special Agent DiNozzo.
He is away from the office right now.
He left me a message while I was on vacation,
said it was urgent.
I returned his call, but I haven't
heard from him. And you are?
Oh.
(cell phone ringing)
(neighs) Ooh.
(phone beeps on)
GIBBS: Yeah. Gibbs.
Boss, we've got a problem.
Um, Bartholomew Lemming from OHS is here.
What's the problem?
It's the real Bartholomew Lemming.
The guy that we've been dealing with
is an imposter.
He planted the business card on his body, knowing
whoever investigated the murder would call.
Yeah. Well, we did.
And I briefed him on the investigation.
Well, the guy's good, boss.
Probably knew Lemming was on vacation.
It's like Nicholson in Chinatown, you know?
He used a stolen business card to make
everyone think he was from
the Department of Water and Power.
Maybe he left his print on the card.
Abby's on it.
McGee's running facial recognition
against NCIS security videos.
Let's go!
Ex-Excuse me, boss.
Hey, hey, no, no, no.
Come on around here.
Is there a step ladder or anything?
No. Go ahead, get up.
No, left foot.
DiNozzo, come on!
I'm on my way, boss.
You don't want to get on his bad side, do you?
You're a good judge of character, Sheriff.
Oh, boy.
(grunting)
There you go.
(sighs)
Oh! He's going.
He's going.
Uh-oh.
Oh, no! Sheriff...
I think he lost a contact.
ABBY: We X-rayed the painting that Patterson gave me,
but we couldn't get a clear image.
It was foggy.
Did it four times; thought it was the equipment.
I was about to call the technician...
Then I got an idea.
(clicking)
Radioactive.
It's the paint.
Dina Risi goes to
the extremes of mixing her paints and pigments
with indigenous substances,
much like the Mayans did.
ABBY: She used clay containing
metallic elements occurring in pitchblende--
also referred to as uraninite--
which is processed into
purified uranium dioxide, UO2--
also used in manufacturing...
Nuclear weapons.
Gibbs's satellite.
I already tried calling him.
You're not gonna get ahold of him.
It's ringing.
Gibbs!
It's not the painting, it's the paint.
The little girl, the dead steer, the book,
none of it means anything.
I mean, well, I'm sure it meant
something to the artist, but...
Abs. Abby.
Slow down. What are you trying to say?
Patterson.
The painting that he sent me.
It wasn't about the image.
The paint is radioactive.
Uraninite, used to make nuclear weapons.
Dina Risi, she must have known.
That's why she sent the painting to Patterson.
Transfer me to McGee.
Hey, boss.
Hey.
I haven't heard from you.
Well, we're still running
facial recognition on the fake Bartholomew Lemming.
Uh, I am going to expand the search to Interpol.
But based on your suggestion,
we did lift a right forefinger and thumbprint
from the carafe our imposter used
in the conference room. Did you get a hit?
No. He doesn't have a record.
I want a name, McGee!
(line disconnects)
He says hi.
(horses nickering)
You know, the sun's starting to set.
This would be a good place to camp.
No, sir.
No, sir. I want to keep pushing on.
This mountain at night--
the trail starting to narrow, big drop-offs--
You got a tenderfoot.
No, we camp.
TONY (groaning): Can you get nerve damage in your buttocks?
(groans) You're gonna feel worse in the morning.
Don't say that, boss.
Beans? GIBBS: Yeah. Thanks.
Mongo like beans.
(chuckles)
Mongo.
(growling)
(imitates explosion)
Mongo.
Blazing Saddles.
Mel Brooks-- genius.
What the heck is he talking about?
TONY: I'm okay.
I mean, I'll skip the beans, Sheriff.
Thanks for not offering, though.
I got an energy bar at the airport, so I'm good.
(horse whinnying)
What time is it in London, DiNozzo?
It's 3:00 a.m.
Six hours till I can make the call.
You gonna be with this agency much longer?
(coyote howling)
You get that inheritance,
maybe you think about retiring.
(phone ringing)
That's yours.
I would get that, boss, but I got
a cramp in my leg.
(ringing continues)
(phone beeps on)
Yeah, Gibbs.
ZIVA: We played a hunch.
If Bart is a professional hit man,
he would be on his way to Arizona
to silence Dina Risi. The woman who knows too much.
ZIVA: We checked all flights from the D.C. area
the last 24 hours, and I think we found something.
A corporate jet
filed a flight plan from
Washington Executive Hyde Field to a small airport
50 miles from Mount Pintos.
It landed two hours ago.
Whose plane?
ZIVA: It's registered to
the Sunset Mining Corporation of Phoenix, Arizona.
Get some sleep. (line disconnects, phone beeps off)
Ever heard of Sunset Mining?
Yeah.
Who are they?
Just a slick bunch out of Phoenix.
They got mines around here or something?
Not yet, no.
What's that supposed to mean?
Negotiating.
Negotiating for what?
Mineral rights.
To an abandoned gold mine.
It's a waste of time, though.
I got more gold in my mouth
than is in that whole shaft.
Dina and her tree huggers, they're fighting them.
Claim that Sunset Mining will rape public lands.
She knows they're not looking for gold.
TONY: That's what valley fever is about, you know.
I mean, I'm not afraid of getting it again.
It's just that, you know, Arizona is a dangerous place.
Whoa, whoa.
And, uh, can we stop soon?
Just up ahead.
(Tony grunting and groaning)
TONY: Oh! That one hit me where I live.
(gunshot)
Dina, stop shooting.
(gun cocking)
This is Sheriff Boyd.
How did you find me?
I didn't.
These Feds did.
They're with the Navy.
NCIS.
Jack Patterson told me not to talk to anyone but him.
Yeah, well, Jack Patterson's dead.
I mix my own pigments.
As the base of my earth tones,
I use clay
that I found near the old mine.
When did you suspect the paint was radioactive?
About a month ago.
I wasn't feeling well.
My doctor ran blood tests.
Told me I was exposed to radiation.
So that's what made me suspect Sunset Mining
was interested in the mineral rights.
Not for gold, but for uranium.
You tell anyone?
I started asking questions.
Thought I was discreet, but, um,
I started getting paranoid.
Felt I was being followed.
Didn't know who to trust.
Called Jack.
Patterson told you to send the painting?
Yeah.
He said he'd have it check out.
If the mine is a major source of uranium,
it could be worth billions to Sunset Mining.
Worth killing for.
How did Jack die?
He was shot on his way to see us.
We're pretty sure it was a professional hit.
It's not safe up here.
We got to get down the mountain.
Great. Just when I was getting the feeling back
in my lower extremities.
You know, you might want to let go of that horn, junior.
Riding a horse is like making love.
You got to relax and enjoy it.
Sheriff, I have a strong feeling that you and I enjoy
both of those activities in really different ways,
no disrespect. (phone ringing)
(phone beeps on) Yeah. Gibbs.
Boss, we've got you on satellite here and MTAC.
You've got company.
There's an aircraft moving low over the landscape.
What direction? West.
ZIVA: It is closing in on you. (horse neighing)
Head for the rocks.
What's going on? Go! Move!
Move!
Hyah!
Ahh! Go, DiNozzo!
Keep going!
Go!
The rocks.
Take cover.
GIBBS: All right.
Behind the rocks.
TONY: Boss, he's coming back!
I'm all right, Gibbs.
Get the Henry.
It pulls to the right.
(gunshots)
(gun clicks empty)
(horse neighing)
(rifle cocking)
Boss, you okay?
Boss?!
GIBBS: Yeah.
I'm fine here.
(muttering)
(groans)
Well, take it easy, Sheriff.
TONY: Now we've got to round up the horses.
How do you do that?
Howdy, partner.
Welcome back to the fort.
I'm surprised you can sit down.
(chuckles)
Ah, you humor me, Tim.
Hey, that lawyer call?
Tony was notified he would be calling at 9:00.
That is just a couple minutes away.
Yes, it is.
How's the sheriff, boss?
Oh, he's going to be fine.
Driving the nurses nuts.
McGEE: FBI lifted a thumbprint off of his body.
Real name is Jerome Sax.
Lived in Oregon. Had a wife and two kids.
(phone ringing) Oh.
That's my future calling. Excuse me.
Yes, Mr. Hubbard.
How are you, sir?
ZIVA: He was a little league coach, deacon of his church.
Wife thought he was a factory rep
who traveled out of town on company business.
So far, Ballistics tie him to four unsolved murders.
They think there'll be more.
TONY (laughing): That is unbelievable!
Wow!
The Phoenix D.A.'s investigating Sunset Mining.
Three executives are expected to be indicted
for the involvement in the death
of Special Agent Patterson, and the mining scam.
Okay, well, thank you very much.
Yes, thank you very much.
All right. See you, pal.
(phone beeps off)
(chuckling)
Did, um, Uncle Clive leave a big estate?
(laughing)
Huge!
24 million pounds!
Wow.
Well, that's over $35 million.
Yes! Yes, it is!
(Tony chuckling)
Yes, it is!
And he left it all to my sniveling cousin Crispian.
I mean,
I'll give you-- granted he did take care of Uncle Clive
when he was ill, and he gave a very moving eulogy.
Hey, why is the lawyer calling you?
Oh, yeah. When I was in college,
I borrowed $10,000 from Uncle Clive,
and, um, I guess
I signed an IOU. I don't really remember that,
but Crispian says
that he found this document-- said "IOU," and that I owe him
that $10,000 plus compounded interest
over the last 20 years.
Do you know how much that is, by the way?
I am sorry for your loss.
Hmm.
It's only money.
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