Late again.
Morning, ma'am. Sorry I'm late.
The drive-through at Capitol Cruller
is closed this week for repaving.
No excuses, Petty Officer Sheehan.
Smooth seas don't make skillful sailors.
Yes, ma'am. But maybe instead of waiting
at the walkup window for an hour...
I could get your nine-shot, one-pump mocha chai latte
someplace new.
Or I could get in line earlier.
Attaboy.
I would have been on time if that old homeless guy
out in the parking garage didn't heckle me.
What the hell did I just say?
No more excuses. Yes, ma'am.
It's just that the old geezer's back
begging for change and he didn't take no for an answer.
Would that be the "old geezer"
with the snake and the sword tattoo?
I didn't pay attention. Clearly.
Because if you had, you would have noticed
that tattoo says 4th Infantry Division.
The old man was Army?
Which means he deserves some respect.
And a couple of bucks.
Look alive, soldier.
Excuse me, sir?
Hey, you all right?
Oh, my God.
Dial 911!
Sheehan?
911. What's your emergency?
Hello? Hello?
McGee, you're seeing this?
Yeah, man. This is unbelievable.
Hey, McGee, what was that trick
you told me about getting your earbuds to work, again?
Uh, hit "forget device," then "re-pair device."
All right. Thank you.
Still having problems?
No, it's not me. It's my dad in Japan.
I made the mistake of suggesting new earbuds,
and now he texts me every time they don't work.
Trickle-down tech support.
See, this is why I stopped giving gadget advice
to my extended family.
Tim, you're missing it.
Ooh, why? What-What's going on?
I just saw a shadow.
Friend or foe?
Is somebody stealing packages
from your front door again?
What? Oh, no, I'm not, um...
I'm not watching my, uh, doorbell camera.
No, we're watching a live webcam feed
of a bald eagle's nest in the Yukon Territory.
Look at that.
Wow. Parker would be proud.
He's the one that gave us the idea.
And now we can't stop watching.
I can see why. This is riveting drama.
Right? Eggs are due to hatch any minute, too.
Now, bald eagle incubation is 35 days
and we're on day 37.
And plot twist:
the mom has been gone for like three hours.
Yeah. And we have no idea why.
Or when she's gonna come back.
Like, this is like a matter of life or death.
Why we can't afford to look away.
Yeah, life is so...
unpredictable.
Right, but you watching isn't gonna change
what's gonna happen to those eggs.
Well, it might.
The positive energy that we put out in the universe
might affect the outcome.
From three thousand miles away?
It's called the butterfly effect.
Yeah, it's like science.
If you stop watching,
something bad could happen.
Something bad did happen.
We got a possible bioterror attack
across the river in Anacostia.
Time to turn the phones off
and put these on.
And check 'em for tears.
I want this whole block secured!
This strip mall is now a containment zone, understand?
The only people who get in need a badge,
a hazmat suit, and a death wish.
How about two out of three?
Special Agent Parker, NCIS.
Martinez, MPD. What are we looking at, Cap?
Oh, nothing good.
Two MPD officers responded to a 911 call
from the Navy recruitment center.
They went inside and reported multiple bodies.
Alive? No idea.
Before the officers could send a full report,
the radio went dead.
And my people never came back out.
Too fast to be some kind of accidental gas leak.
We're thinking airborne toxin.
The deliberate kind.
So we evacuated the area and called for backup.
All right, emergency response team is right behind us.
They'll coordinate from out here while my team
and I head inside to identify the source of the threat.
In that case, you better zip up that space suit nice and tight.
This place is a death zone.
These people dropped like stones.
Yeah, but what did it?
There's nothing coming from the HVAC system,
and the blowers are off.
Oxygen levels are clear.
I got a pulse here.
It's weak, but she's alive.
Same here.
You two start moving bodies outside
into the decontamination zone.
Knight and I will check out back.
On it.
We found our hot zone.
I'm counting at least seven more victims.
Including the two first responders.
Whatever these people were breathing in
must have been pretty dense
to fill up an entire parking garage.
But I'm not showing any airborne contaminants.
Even at ground level.
We've got a gas cylinder.
Nozzle's wide open and the gauge is at empty.
Think we found our source.
Oxygen levels are normal.
Whatever was in that tank must have dissipated by now.
Not before causing real damage.
I'll radio the med team,
make sure they're ready with extra gurneys.
We're gonna need it.
Just found victim number eight.
Parker?
Over here!
Oh, what the...? Who are you?
We're federal agents. Don't move.
Medical help is on the way.
Medical help? For what?
They're waking up.
What the hell?
What's the latest, Doc?
The gassing victims are all receiving
emergency care and undergoing rigorous medical evaluation. And?
And so far there appears
to be no serious injuries. That's the good news.
So what's the bad news?
Well, there appears to be no injuries at all.
No respiratory distress.
No heart problems. No residual effects from the gas,
and everyone's in perfect health.
Why is that the bad news?
Because the doctors have no idea what happened.
It's hard to diagnose a problem when there's no symptoms.
Preliminary blood tests have come back negative
for all common toxins, chemicals, anesthetics.
So whatever was used inside that parking garage was uncommon.
Exactly. And the unknown is always scarier.
And for all we know, this could've been
some kind of a terrorist test run.
You're not the only one that thinks so.
I've been on with NSA, DoD, Homeland all morning.
I was just telling Agent Parker,
there have been no injuries so far, Director.
That may be, but we have to assume that whoever executed
this attack can do it again.
And on a larger, more deadly scale.
NCIS needs to find out who's responsible.
Which means we need to find out
what kind of a chemical weapon we're dealing with.
Actually...
it was bovine tranquilizer.
For cows?
I have processed the gas cylinder
from the parking garage
and found trace amounts of xylazine.
A sedative most commonly used in cattle.
So, veterinarians use gas? No.
They use injections.
Because xylazine is only manufactured in liquid form.
So how does a liquid sedative become a gas?
You mean a colorless, tasteless, and slightly minty-smelling gas.
If you say so.
Well, someone clearly developed a way
to aerosolize the stuff.
And let me tell you, vaporization chemistry...
no easy task.
So we're looking for someone that knows what they're doing.
Xylazine is generally not safe for humans.
But the ppm ratio of this gas
was specifically formulated to knock a person out
in under 90 seconds.
Without causing any real harm.
Why? The million-dollar question.
Who would want to create the chaos and fear
of a bioterror attack without the usual death and destruction?
Bad guys with a conscience?
Or an even bigger plan. Exactly.
Too bad there's nothing in the Global Terrorism Database
about cow tranquilizer.
There weren't any security cameras
in the parking garage either.
So we'll need another way to identify said bad guys.
Group text? No.
I get alerts every time something new happens
with the eagle eggs.
Did the eggs hatch?
Uh, no, but their mother showed up.
Which is a major relief.
The father showed up.
Oh, cool. That's fabulous.
Did you know that the male and the female
take turns on sitting on the eggs?
Okay, bird boy. You might want to dial down
your notification settings a little bit.
Actually, that wasn't a nest notification.
That was Parker from the hospital.
NCIS has been cleared
for questioning the gassing victims.
Text Parker and let him know that I'm on my way.
Except I forgot to turn my phone back on
after the hazmat operation.
Uh-oh. All from my sister.
Everything okay?
I don't know.
This just says "Call me."
Well, maybe next time
don't make it sound like a family emergency
if it's not actually a family emergency.
Love you, too. Bye.
Sorry. My sister needs a class in text etiquette.
Sign my dad up for that class.
So, is everything okay?
Yeah, turns out my dad got into
a bicycling accident in Japan.
He was fiddling with his new earbuds
when he veered off the path and into a bamboo grove.
Well, bamboo is a good luck symbol.
Well, he is lucky that he only ended up
with a compound fracture on his left arm
and he's gonna be fine.
But you would think a federal agent would understand
the dangers of distracted driving.
Nobody's perfect.
Yeah.
So, it looks like we have...
ten gas victims in five different rooms?
How do you want to handle this?
Divide and conquer?
This was an act of war.
A direct attack on a U.S. Navy facility
shows intention to provoke a conflict.
And you know this how?
It's international law.
Captain Boggs, did you see anything in that garage
that would be able to tell us
who was responsible for this attack?
No.
Ms. Quinlan, uh, you said you were
headed to the salon in the morning?
Yeah. Sorry, it's, um...
been a day.
You can call me Dorothy.
Dorothy, did you see anything unusual
before you passed out?
Not really.
I mean, unless you count
two guys in a white cargo van.
What about them?
Well, they sped off
right before I started feeling dizzy, but...
I didn't get a good look at them.
Do you remember anything else?
Even the smallest detail?
No. Because before I knew it,
I woke up in this nightmare.
Agents in hazmat suits,
doctors treating us like plague victims.
And my phone broke when I collapsed
and now it's not working at all.
Sorry, that's, that's my phone.
I'm dealing with some family issues.
I know how that feels.
I just want this day to end.
Best day I had in a long time.
Clean bed, hot shower.
And the food ain't bad either.
Better than that horse meat we got in 'Nam.
Yeah, I just need to know if you saw anything unusual
in the parking garage this morning.
Ever since my mortar-launching days,
I'm a tad scatterbrained.
That's why everybody started calling me Shelly.
Okay, I'm gonna give you a minute.
I promise I'm fine.
It's just a little scrape.
I know, I miss you, too, honey bear.
Uh, Mr. Billings, the sooner we finish this,
the sooner you can go back to your family.
And I promise I'll never leave your side again.
I love you, too, snookums.
I'm sorry about that.
I haven't seen my wife
since I left the house this morning, and...
we're not usually apart for this long.
I picked up on that.
Like I was saying, um... The parking garage.
Right. I was headed to the hardware store
to pick up a new toilet flapper for the
downstairs bathroom. Uh-huh.
And I never made it to my car...
before, bam, I was out like a light.
I don't remember a thing.
You know, my wife's a hypnotherapist.
Maybe she can access
my repressed memories.
I'll come back later.
I got some other victims to talk to.
Hey, hon.
Hey, where's that police officer?
Are you the cop looking into the gas attack?
NCIS. Is there something wrong, sir?
Hell yeah. I've been robbed.
And you are...?
George Barlow. I'm a contractor.
I was picking up tools at the hardware store
this morning when I passed out.
And when I did, my keys and cell phone
were securely attached to my belt.
And now they're missing?
The terrorists that gassed that parking garage stole my stuff.
Calm down, Mr. Barlow.
It's an awful lot of trouble
for just a set of keys and a cell phone.
I mean, unless you've got access
to government secrets or something.
Hey, buddy. You ain't that far off.
Wait a minute.
The contractor was being serious?
Yeah, as it turns out, George Barlow
owns George's Fish Fountain.
It's a company that installs aquariums
and water features into high-end homes in D.C.
Look at this.
"Trusted since 1993."
Yeah, and that's the problem.
See, George offers an in-home, no-hassle
maintenance program to his clients and they trust him
with their house keys and alarm codes.
Keys and alarm codes that are now missing, huh?
Yeah. Look at George's client list.
I recognize some of these names.
Exactly. Politicians, military contractors,
high-ranking military officers...
High-value targets.
And the keys to their front doors
are now in the hands of bioterrorists.
So our bioterrorists are also thieves.
They flooded the parking garage with a specialized knockout gas,
then stole keys and alarm codes
to multiple private residences.
Some of which belong to high- ranking government officials.
D.C. power players.
Who are now potential targets.
We've started notifying them about the security threat.
Good. Because we have no idea what comes next.
Our bioterrorists could use their knockout gas
for any number of crimes.
Unfortunately, we still have no leads on who's behind this.
Other than a vague description
about two men in a white cargo van.
Find 'em. Find out what they're planning
before it becomes another headline.
We'll keep you in the loop.
Agent Knight.
Would you mind...
staying for a moment, please?
I heard about your father's little mishap.
Word travels fast.
Well, the NCIS Far East office is a tight-knit group.
How's your dad holding up?
He had surgery to reset his broken bone.
And I'm told that he's doing well,
but the doctors are going to keep him overnight just in case.
I'm glad to hear it.
Tell him I send my best.
I would, except I haven't
actually spoken to him personally.
The, uh, Japanese hospitals
are pretty strict about their no cell phone use.
If you like,
I could call and ask them to make an exception.
It's a perk of the office.
You know my dad doesn't like any special favors.
True.
But I'm asking you.
Well, in that case, bring it on.
Thank you, Director.
You're welcome.
Well, it must be nice to be rich
and have your own, uh, fountain guy.
Oof. Lifestyles of the rich and famous.
More like the rich and hunted. Oh.
So, um, you called me down here.
I'm hoping for good news.
Yes, I did. Because after having that truck
towed from the strip mall's parking garage,
I was able to confirm
that our "fountain guy" was, indeed, the target.
I found this gas flow controller planted under his truck.
And what does it do?
Exactly what the name implies.
It controls the flow of gas.
One hose was attached to the truck's ventilation system,
the other hose was attached to the tank of cow tranquilizer.
And the tank was hidden underneath the truck?
Yes. Until a fitting failed and the hose came loose.
The tank rolled free,
and instead of gassing George in his truck...
It filled up the whole garage.
My guess is, the thief's original plan
was to steal the phone and keys,
copy them, and then return the items
without George ever realizing what hit him.
Wow. Smart. Complicated but smart.
Yeah, but since the gas cylinder accidentally broke free
and caused a bioterror panic,
the thief wasn't able to do that last part.
Well, that's good work, Kasie.
Yeah. But I am not done yet.
Because I also found
a hair follicle in one of the gas flow hoses.
Left by our thief?
Uh, not sure yet.
I'm running the DNA through the system now.
Oh, looks like you got a hit.
Actually, that's... It's not important.
Uh, Kasie?
Is that what I think it is?
Maybe.
Ever since you showed me the nest,
I can't look away.
See? I told you, man.
We got to send all the positive energy.
Every little bit helps.
Mm-hmm.
Ooh. Case in point...
We got a hit on our hair follicle.
Phillip Legrand, 55. A known thief wanted by the FBI.
Wanted in connection with the robberies
of several high-end homes across the country.
And in every case, homeowners, uh, slept through the robbery
and woke up to their jewelry and cash gone.
And they all reported their houses
smelling "slightly minty."
That's the, uh, cow tranquilizer.
Looks like Legrand moved on to robbing the D.C. elite.
Okay, thank you for the feedback.
Well, speaking of the D.C. elite,
Knight and I are still notifying potential targets.
Tell 'em to change their locks. I am.
They're not happy about it.
They keep blaming NCIS
and asking to "speak to my manager."
Luckily, uh, no one
has reported any break-ins or suspicious activity.
You've talked to everybody on the list?
All but one.
U.S. Senator Constance Miller
is currently on a flight
home from a diplomatic trip to Ukraine.
All right, get in touch with her office on the Hill.
Already did. The office said she'll call back when she lands.
Well, in the meantime,
at least diplomatic flights have extra security.
We might have another problem.
The office also said
that she has a live-in maid at her house.
But every time I call,
nobody answers.
Sounds like we better check out that house.
Hello?
I don't see any movement.
I think I know why.
We got a body.
I think we found our maid.
Got a faint pulse and a shallow breath.
She's been gassed.
Yeah, Legrand.
He's definitely been here.
And someone still is.
Federal agents! Hands up!
Turn around slowly!
Who are you?
Agent Knight, don't shoot.
Dorothy?
You have this all wrong.
You broke into the home of a United States senator.
This is all a misunderstanding.
Using stolen keys and alarm codes.
Which makes this breaking and entering and felony theft.
Question is: do we need to add charges
for committing an act of terrorism?
What?
You lied to me at the hospital.
There were no "guys in a white cargo van."
You planted the gas.
And accidentally gassed yourself in the process.
We understand plenty.
Lucky for you, we also understand
that you weren't working alone.
You were working for Phillip Legrand.
We might be able to
drop those terrorism charges if...
you lead us to your boss.
He's not my boss, okay?
You don't understand.
Phillip Legrand is my father.
And he's being held hostage.
If I don't deliver the hard drive from that safe,
whoever has my dad will kill him.
Well, maybe we don't understand as much as we thought.
So you'll help me?
As long as you tell us everything.
Starting with your father.
He was a chemistry teacher
before he was a professional thief.
But I didn't know what he did for a living
until a few years back when he sold the house,
bought a camper van, and started traveling around the country.
To rob houses.
He called it early retirement.
I called it a way to avoid
student loans I'll never be able to pay back.
So... I joined him.
Breaking the law didn't bother you?
Of course it did.
But we're not violent criminals.
My dad has a strict code.
We only steal from people who can afford it.
We only take enough to travel around
together in our camper van.
And nobody ever...
ever gets hurt.
You gas innocent people.
I know.
It's wrong.
And here we are.
Here you are.
Where's your dad?
I told you, he was kidnapped.
Last week, I got an anonymous text
from someone saying they knew we were thieves.
Wanted to hire us to pull a job.
And how did they find you? I have no idea.
But working for someone else goes against our code,
so I turned it down.
And I'm guessing, uh, that didn't go too well?
Next day, I found our camper van trashed
and my father missing.
Then I got another text from the same person.
This time, a new offer.
Steal the hard drive from Senator Miller's safe...
or my father dies.
And you didn't call the police?
I swear I'm telling the truth now.
A-And I can prove it.
As long as you can fix my cell phone.
Shattered screen, total touch malfunction.
Sounds bad. Not really.
I can usually fix these things in under a minute.
But you need, like, spare parts and tools?
Yeah, I got 'em all right here.
Federal agent, best-selling author,
and a smartphone repairman?
Mm-hmm. Delilah is a serial gadget killer.
Buttons, screens, batteries...
I'm always fixing something, you know?
Hear from your dad?
No, I wish. It's my sister.
She heard from him? Not yet.
But I'm letting her know that Vance is calling in a favor.
All right, here we go.
We can access the phone's messaging app.
Dorothy said that the threatening text messages
were coming from an unregistered number.
So, maybe a burner phone?
Yep. Here's the text thread about killing her father.
Just like she said.
Story checks out.
Question is: do we believe her?
You think Dorothy made all this up, faked the texts?
I think she's a professional criminal. True.
Would be nice to have physical evidence
of a kidnapping. Mm-hmm.
We agree. Just finished processing
Dorothy's camper van.
We found signs of struggle and traces of blood.
A match to Phillip Legrand?
It looks like, uh, Dorothy was telling the truth.
He was taken.
Yeah, but who did it?
I mean, back-tracing a burn phone
isn't gonna get us anywhere.
No, we got to find out who wanted that, uh, hard drive.
Yeah, but in order to do that,
we need to know what's on the hard drive.
Good luck getting a U.S. senator
to reveal what she has locked
in her hidden safe. Well, I'm not making that call.
Me neither.
She's definitely gonna want to "speak to a manager."
I think we need to go higher up than that.
Please help yourself to some traditional
varenyky dumplings, Director Vance.
There was really no need to go through
all this trouble, Senator Miller.
Baked goods are the least I can do after NCIS
prevented a robbery in my own home.
Pastry, Agent Parker?
Sure. One of the perks of being on the Senate Committee
for Foreign Relations is traveling
and trying exotic desserts.
Woman after my own heart.
But I'm pretty sure you're not here for sweets.
You're here to find out what's in my safe, right?
Uh, we have no intention
of violating your privacy, Senator Miller.
NCIS only needs a general idea
of what's on your hard drive
in order to find out who wanted it stolen.
Relax. I can do a lot better than a general idea.
I'll show you the whole damn thing.
Follow me.
The hard drive is nothing more than a backup
of my personal photo library.
I only keep it in this safe
in case the house burns down.
It's just pictures of...
...family, friends, vacations.
Campaign events.
And dessert selfies.
They're valuable to me but hardly worth stealing.
Well, obviously there's something about
these photos that's important.
Well, I can't imagine what that would be, but
I'm happy to make NCIS a copy.
We would appreciate that.
The hospital's finally getting back to me
about Agent Knight's father.
Uh, Senator,
my apologies, I need to take this.
Of course. I'll get started on that copy.
Thank you.
Glad someone's enjoying those traditional varenykys.
Frankly, I was a bit disappointed.
Well, whoever said that these were traditional lied.
These are baked, not boiled.
You know your pastries.
Mm, I have a sweet tooth.
Is that all that's sweet?
Again, Senator, my apologies.
I need Agent Parker for a moment.
Everything good in Japan?
No. There's been a complication.
I don't understand, Robin. He was fine.
How did this happen?
Okay. Okay, just...
Yeah, just...
Okay, fine, just call me back if anything changes.
Yeah, I love you, too.
Jess, hey, I just heard. What happened?
I wish I knew.
One minute my dad was recovering from a broken arm,
and the next minute
he's having a hard time breathing, and now
he is now unconscious and on a ventilator.
Was it a bad drug reaction?
The doctors in Japan
think it's some kind of secondary infection.
Well, that's gonna require emergency surgery, ASAP.
Yeah, he's going in now.
But the doctors also told Robin
that if they don't find the problem soon,
that my dad might...
Okay, okay, all right, hey.
How can I help? What do you need?
I don't know.
My sister got me a plane ticket that leaves
for Tokyo tonight. That's good.
It's a 15-hour plane ride, so by the time I get there,
my dad might already...
No, Jess, you can't think like that. I know.
I just feel useless right now.
I understand.
Trust me.
Tell me you got something on our kidnappers, Kasie.
I could really use some good news about someone's father.
You and me both, except I don't have any.
There was nothing in Dorothy's camper van
that can tell us who took her dad.
And the photos from Senator Miller?
I've been scanning through her libraries for anything
that might tell us who wanted this hard drive.
But other than the fact that she enjoys travel and...
enjoys dessert, nothing stands out so far.
Somebody wants these photos.
And they want them pretty badly.
Our kidnapper just sent
another text to Dorothy's phone.
We're on the clock. Yes.
And right now the only way to find the kidnapper
would be to give them
what they want.
Let Dorothy deliver the hard drive?
And lead us to the bad guys.
Yeah, that would mean that we would have to trust
a known criminal who's facing jail time for felony theft.
You think Dorothy would try to escape?
I think it's a risk.
It's a risk we might have to take.
Our kidnapper has started sending photos.
Are you sure this is gonna work?
Well, trading the hard drive for your father
was always the plan, right?
Yes. But that was before.
If the kidnapper finds out NCIS is now involved...
they'll kill my dad.
We're gonna do everything we can
to make sure that doesn't happen, I promise.
Why do you care so much about saving a wanted criminal?
Because my dad taught me a code, too.
Help those in need every chance you get.
Jess.
You all right?
Yeah.
It's the kidnapper.
He wants you to meet him at 11 South King Street
and wait for further instructions.
I'll run the address.
You don't have to. It's an old office building
my dad and I use to stash our stolen goods.
Did I forget to mention that?
Why would the kidnapper want you to go there?
I don't know.
Well, think harder.
This is how we help your father.
Their stash house is an abandoned office complex.
Dorothy was right.
It should be easy enough to stake out
while we send her inside.
McGee and I will take the west, uh, entrance.
I'll take the east.
All right. Here is your copy of the hard drive to use as bait.
Is the actual data on here?
With some added security.
What's that mean? What if something goes wrong?
Well, the three of us are gonna be in contact
with you at all times,
using earpieces.
Everything will be okay. Just stick to the plan.
About that.
Where's Agent Knight? I thought she was part of this.
I am.
Jess, I thought you were getting on a plane.
Change of plans.
What about your dad?
There's nothing I can do to help him.
Here is where I can help.
You don't have to do this.
It's what my dad would do.
McGEE: It's all quiet on our side of the building.
How about you?
Nothing here.
Anything from inside yet?
How you doing, Dorothy?
I'm good. I-I think.
Any word from our kidnapper?
I texted him that I'm here.
But still no reply.
So, what do I do now?
Well, he said to await further instructions, so...
we wait.
If you say so.
Stick to the plan.
Got it.
I'm headed into the area my dad and I
use as a workroom.
See anything out of the ordinary?
Just a bunch of stolen stuff.
That my dad and I are totally going to return.
Yes...
you totally will.
Wait.
There's a note on the table.
What does it say?
You guys better get in here.
Like, now.
Hurry, please.
McGEE: Sounds like she's panicking.
Everyone move now!
Dorothy? In here.
Hurry!
Dorothy?
What the hell is going on?
Ask them.
We're being watched.
By who?
Whoever wrote this note.
You guys hear that sound?
It's the gas. Go. Go...
Knight, Knight. I got you, I got you.
I'm sorry, Agent Parker.
I had to do what the note said.
Hello?
Smart girl.
I did what you asked.
Now where is my father?
Bring the hard drive to Rock Creek Park.
The Old Quarry Trailhead.
And hurry.
Daddy dearest won't wait forever.
Hello?
Help.
Dad?
Dorothy.
Dad! Dor...
Dorothy... Are you okay?
What-what did they do to you?
Where's the hard drive?
Who the hell are you?
I'm the man asking for that hard drive one last time.
Take it.
Now leave us alone. It's over.
Not yet.
What the hell are you doing?
We-we had a deal. I gave you the hard drive!
And I let your father live.
Just long enough to get what I want.
Yeah.
NCIS warned me this would happen.
Probably should've listened to the good guys.
Who said I didn't?
NCIS.
Drop your weapon, hands up.
I told them about the gas my dad and I
keep at that office complex.
Instead of a tranquilizer,
I opened a harmless tank of compressed air.
We had a feeling you might be watching.
Are you okay?
Will be.
Nate Billings of Alexandria, Virginia.
It's not your real name or your real address.
Outside of a fake ID
and a professionally Photoshopped family photo,
you don't exist.
Which either makes you a ghost...
Or a spy.
A spy that got a thief to do his dirty work for him.
But you didn't fully trust Dorothy
to steal that hard drive, did you?
So you followed her
to make sure she did what you said.
That's why you were in the parking garage
when the gas was accidentally released.
Explains a lot.
McGEE: What it doesn't explain
is why you went to all this trouble
for a hard drive filled with
seemingly worthless photos.
Who do you work for?
It's time to call a lawyer.
That's your right. You got a number?
Try the Russian embassy.
This guy is working for Russia?
Of course, we can't prove that. Not officially.
But within hours of calling the Russian embassy,
they filed extradition papers.
Which means that "Nate Billings"
is now in the custody of the U.S. State Department.
And let me guess, they're not letting us talk to him.
No. Last thing the State wants is more bad blood with Russia.
Our best lead is gone.
Along with any chance of finding out
who wanted my photos or why.
I'm afraid so.
That's unfortunate. Of course,
we'll let you know if any new information comes to light.
Thank you, Director.
Mm-hmm.
And in the meantime, Agent Parker,
I trust you'll let me know
where I can get a proper varenyky.
Gentlemen. Mm-hmm.
A "proper varenyky"? Is that a euphemism?
It is now.
Oh, good. You're both here.
Can we help you, Ms. Hines? Maybe.
I finished processing Senator Miller's photo libraries
and I might have found
a connection to the Russians.
Do these three people look familiar?
That's Delilah's former TA.
Evelyn Shaw.
And the other two are Renée and John Watts.
Your ex's kid had
a run-in with them.
We've recently arrested all three of these people
for being Russian sleeper spies.
Turns out, they were active volunteers
on Senator Miller's last reelection campaign.
And what does this prove?
Technically...
nothing. Four Russian spies
in as many months,
all with an interest in the same U.S. senator?
That doesn't sound like a coincidence.
Sounds like we need to keep digging.
Yes. But quietly.
Until NCIS has something that we can prove.
Thank you, Agent Knight.
First time anyone's ever thanked me
for handing them over to the FBI.
I meant for saving my dad's life.
I'd rather face jail time than lose him forever.
I know how you feel.
Hey. Anything new on your dad?
Uh, he is out of surgery.
And now I'm just waiting for the doctors
to call with an update.
How about you?
Any updates on your eggs?
Oh, they are not eggs anymore.
Okay.
That's pretty cute.
Hey, all that, uh, positive energy paid off.
Yeah.
Let's just hope it travels further than the Yukon.
Oh, it does.
I just got an update from the hospital in Japan.
How?
I told them I was your dad's primary care
physician here in the States.
It turns out the doctors found wound botulism
in your dad's arm.
Apparently, after the bike accident,
some toxic spores from the dirt
got into the compound fracture and spread. It's rare.
It's like-like "what-are-the-chances" rare. Jimmy.
Is my dad gonna be okay?
Oh, I'm sorry. I-I thought from my positive outlook here
and giant smile that it was clear.
Hello?
Hey, Dad.
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