www.Team-NCIS.com
Remind me again how I drew the short straw on pick-up duty.
You lost fair and square.
Okay, fine... you two enjoy your beauty sleep.
Connie may not need it, but you sure as hell do.
They're running late? Need some company out there?
Nah, it's all good. The movie let out,
I don't know, 20 minutes ago.
So, they should be...
Oh, here they are now.
Oh, what do you know... it's your dad.
On the phone with your dad, I bet.
It's so sweet how they hover.
So weird how they stalk, you mean.
Totally.
Get in the van!
What's going on?
What are you doing?!
Get away from me!
Get the hell off!
Stop it!
- Help! - I said get in the van!
Get back here!
- Stop it, stop it! - Get in the van!
Come on, let's go!
Help, help me!
Please, they have Rosie...
No! Daddy!
Somebody help us!
No, Daddy, please, no.
No, please, don't leave me.
NCIS Season 10 Episode 08 Gone V1.0 WebDL
Synchro: Gaillots, Keller & Kujathemas.
Rereading: Bruno.
www.Team-NCIS.com
Whatever this is, it better be good.
I was having the best dream...
Brigitte Bardot and Raquel Welch.
Why do bad guys always get up so early?
Pre-dawn calls are often reserved for very bad guys, I'm afraid.
Afraid and yet...
so chipper.
I was already awake.
A very good friend called from Israel.
He had forgotten the time difference.
"He" as in...
"He" as in "male", Tony, yes,
- I do have male friends. - No, you don't.
Even guys who say they want to be your friends really want to sleep with you.
Billy Crystal, Meg Ryan... When Harry Met Sally.
- Genius. - Are we going up this street again?
Neither up this street nor down this road.
You seem awfully excited.
I am excited.
I haven't seen my friend Shmeil in a very long time.
He has a layover here tomorrow on his way to a conference in Seattle.
Did you say "Shmeil"?
Yes, Tony, I said "Shmeil".
A very common name in Israel.
"Shmeil"...
as in "Shmeil, Schlimazel,
Hasenpfeffer Incorporated."
Gonna do it your way?
We're gonna do it!
- Our way. Yes, our way... - Please,
stop whatever it is that you're doing
because "Shmeil", Tony, is not a song.
"Shmeil" is a very wise and influential man,
and I happen to share things with him that I wouldn't
dream of sharing with anyone else.
Present company obviously excluded.
We are down this road?
I'm talking about the new "us" here, Ziva.
you know, the post-elevator "us",
the open book, baring our souls,
telling each other all kinds of personal stuff.
I appreciate that, Tony.
But do not try to compete with my Shmeil.
Do you hear that Tim...
there's no getting between Ziva and her Shmeil.
- Too early for this. - It's too early for a lot of things.
Something big, Boss?
Got a dead Navy officer in Franconia.
That's big.
And a child abduction, let's go.
That is bad.
Single gunshot to the abdomen,
preceded by a fierce struggle.
Look at these abrasions.
From the look of things,
all this happened rather quickly.
Victim is Navy Captain David Wade.
He lives on Fort Belvoir.
He was just picking up his daughter from work.
Check for surveillance footage.
- Movie theaters might have cameras. - On it, Boss.
Poor man paid with his life.
The least we can do is try to find his daughter.
Actually, she's not the one missing.
It's her friend Rose Martin.
Cops found her cell phone dumped in a gutter about a block from here.
Where's Wade's daughter?
Lydia.
Over there on the bench, Boss.
Excuse me. Lydia?
We're Special Agents David and Gibbs with NCIS.
I want my mom.
Her mother's in an aircraft carrier on the Arabian Sea.
Jenni's Navy...
like Dave.
We'll get her back as soon as possible, okay?
- What about our Rosie? - Your Rosie's mom?
You're gonna get her back, right?
Of course they will.
They'll find her.
Am I right?
- We'll do all we can. - Commander Scott Martin, U.S. Navy.
That's my wife Connie. I was on the phone last night
with Dave when it happened.
Damn it! Why the hell didn't I just come with him?
- What difference would that've made? - What are you talking about...
Breathe, breathe.
I know this is hard on you.
For us to find your daughter,
we need you to stay calm and tell us what you know.
Dave was here, picking the girls up from their jobs.
We've been neighbors three years, so we trade off
taking them to school, and work...
It was late,
a little past 0300... stupid midnight show.
- You were on the phone. - I was just checking in.
All I heard was "Uh-oh" or "Oh, no" and then lots
- of screaming and shouting until... - What about after that?
Tires squealing, more screams.
We got here as fast as we could.
Lydia, you ever see these guys before?
Hey, kid, look at me.
You think you can describe them?
Lydia, you have to, you have to.
Your father was my best friend in the world,
He would want you to do everything to help Rosie.
Don't do that.
- Do what? - Just stop.
- Somebody out there has our daughter! - Daddy tried!
He tried to stop them! He tried!
He tried to save Rosie! Daddy tried!
- It's okay, sweetie, we know. - We know that.
We know, sweetie, we know.
Please... please find our daughter.
We won't stop till we do.
At least we got some decent video, for once.
Theater just upgraded their surveillance system.
That's enough. Try to enhance the faces.
Okay, so that's who we're after... Two men
in a black van, probably a driver, too.
- One missing girl. - Rose Martin,
16. Check your e-mails
for more photos and info.
BOLOs, APBs already been issued,
and the FBI is on board as well.
Director Vance authorizes all NCIS agents
to drop what they're doing and join the search.
We've got 48 hours, people.
Let's go.
Those stocking masks make facial enhancement tricky.
Hopefully, Abby can do better.
The least we can do is I.D. that license plate.
It looks to me like there's no plate at all. Or it's covered up.
Either way, it means this was no spur-of-the-moment
drunken joyride.
They had plan.
Grab a couple girls off the street at random?
Or they were targeted.
They got through.
You got to be strong, baby, for Daddy, okay?
I know you can do it.
Commander Jennifer Wade,
this is Special Agent Gibbs.
Sorry for your loss, ma'am.
Just get these bastards, Agent Gibbs.
And find Rosie, please. That's all we care about now.
- Your transport has been arranged? - It was.
Severe weather is delaying flights
on and off the ship for at least another day.
I am so sorry, Lydie.
I want to be there so bad right now, but...
you just stay with Connie and Scott
and help them in any way you can, okay?
- I wouldn't advise that, Commander. - What?
- The Martins are like family. - And with their daughter kidnapped,
they all have a lot on their plate.
So does Lydie.
Is there a grandparent or someone else we could call?
No one nearby.
Dave's parents are gone, my family's on the West Coast...
Where will she stay?
With me.
If it's okay with Lydia.
You sure, Lyd?
Yeah.
I'll be all right.
Single .38 round through his liver.
Captain Wade didn't suffer long,
if there can be a silver lining.
Nah, there can't. Bullet?
Abby would have that.
- Why'd you call me? - Paint...
what I thought was dirt beneath the captain's fingernails is,
in fact, black primer.
Likely embedded during the struggle.
It dissolved in water.
So I think we can assume that the paint job was only temporary.
Then this van could be any color now?
Breathe, Jethro.
I couldn't help overhearing what you said to that girl's father.
May I suggest that you take your own advice?
I'll breathe when she's back.
Need I remind you
that firefighters never run into a burning building.
They walk, lest their haste result in critical errors.
This girl's not a fire, Duck.
No, she's the building.
Her captors are the fire.
You want to put them out?
Walk.
I didn't expect you so soon.
You must be Lydia.
I'm Abby.
I'm really sorry about your dad.
Thanks.
Me, too.
We were hoping you might swab Lydia's clothing for any clues.
It might be a little late. Will that be okay with you?
If it helps find Rosie, swab away.
Is this how you were dressed when...
you... Rosie...
Actually, I was...
wearing this.
Very kitschy cool.
Can I just
take it and analyze the whole thing?
You can burn it for all I care.
What's that?
That's just a little metal thingy.
It's a bullet.
You know Abby's also quite gifted at constructing
- facial composites. - I dabble a little.
I know the guys had stockings over their faces, but...
if you could remember any features at all,
I think we could make a pretty distinct likeness.
All I can see is my dad.
To think of all the times I wanted to take Rosie's phone away.
It came back negative for prints... our techs are still combing through
- recent calls and text messages. - What about Lydia's phone?
We brought in Rosie's computer like you asked.
Are you checking all of Lydia's stuff, too?
Absolutely.
We're also monitoring both your cells and your home phone
for any potential ransom calls.
I'll give them anything.
Do you honestly think our girls could know these monsters?
Unfortunately, "know"
is a relative term, when it comes to the Internet.
You always think it happens to other people.
Hold on. Who's John Stevens?
Goes by the screen name "Diesel". They've been chatting for weeks.
That's a friend of Rosie's?
Their conversations seem mostly one-sided.
Last one was yesterday, with Diesel asking
if Rosie's working the midnight show.
"Maybe I'll just have to catch a movie tonight."
"Maybe catch you, too."
Where is he?
We've got this, Commander.
Making room for Christmas, girls.
I can get you a pretty sweet deal on a pumpkin, huh?
You got a deal for me, Diesel?
How do you know that name, champ?
Why?
You only give it out to teenage girls?
Go to hell, you son of a...
Boss, I thought you said you'd wait for me.
I tried.
Telling you, I don't know where she is.
But I sure as hell know that I'm gonna be suing your stupid ass.
Knock yourself out.
Too late for that.
You know, I got to say, Diesel,
you're pretty cocky for a registered sex offender.
It was a bogus charge.
Cop caught me peeing on a Dumpster.
Dumpster next to a middle school.
We've got weeks of your little chats with Rosie.
Trying to pass yourself off as a college freshman now?
I went to JUCO for a semester.
That was 12 years ago.
You're 30 now, and trolling teenagers.
Little liar.
Swore she was 20.
That's funny, we must've missed that.
You talk to Rosie at the movies last night?
Not much. Said hi, maybe.
She was acting all busy, scooping popcorn and stuff.
Hell, I can take a hint.
- No means no, I get it. - Don't think you get much of anything.
I think you and your buddies came back after closing.
I left there and went straight to work.
Been breaking down my boss's pumpkin stands all night
from Maryland on down to here.
You got one chance, Diesel.
You know anything at all
about where to find Rosie Martin and you tell me,
and I will get those Dumpster charges dropped.
You can do that?
Where is she?
I wish I knew.
That stupid sex offender Web site
makes it so damn hard to meet chicks.
Diesel the Weasel.
He was at the movie last night, but Rosie didn't pay him any attention.
- Could he be one of the men in the van? - Maybe.
The whole thing's such a blur. The only face I keep seeing is my...
I'm sorry I'm not help.
Don't be.
What you're going through, I would wish on no one.
You've been there?
Loss is a part of life.
But I would never claim to know exactly how you feel.
You lost your father, I lost my siblings.
But how we each respond is a...
very personal thing.
Was it hard to get over?
One gets over the loss of a wallet,
or a watch.
But a loved one...
they never leave you.
You never get over, you only get through.
How?
By leaning on others.
The comfort of friends.
One of whom I may see tomorrow.
I wish I could talk to my friends.
This might help.
Oh, my phone! Abby, you're the best!
The technicians were done with it, so I figured I would grab it.
Any news?
They're still checking Diesel's alibi,
but I didn't find any black paint on his van.
So we're back to square one?
Lydia, what's wrong?
I don't know why I expected something from Rosie.
Force of habit, I guess.
We text day and night.
Any other messages?
Tons.
Friends asking if I'm okay,
where I am, where Rosie is.
Oh, my God.
They're putting a rally together.
Some kind of vigil for my dad at the Belvoir Bowl.
The bowling alley.
My dad's in a league on Friday nights with Rosie's dad.
Do you think I could go?
We can ask Gibbs.
There she is! Lydia, you're here!
We've been so worried about you!
I'm so sorry about what happened.
Look what we did. Come here.
This is good for her, Gibbs. She needs the support.
We might find out something we don't know.
Yeah, let's concentrate on her?
Thank God you're okay!
This is Ginny.
She runs the place.
They're NCIS.
NCIS, FBI, State Police
have all been in here today.
Stuff like this just doesn't happen in this town.
It's terrible.
You got any tissues back there?
Who's idea was all this?
It just came together.
That's what good neighbors do in tough times.
Especially for guys like your dad.
- I'm so sorry, Lydie-kid. - I know.
Thanks, Fred.
- Everybody loved Dave around here. - We can see that.
Same with Scott and Connie.
I can't imagine the nightmare they're going through right now.
- Hi, sweetie. You okay? - Yeah.
Did you talk to your mom? I heard her flight got delayed.
It's fine now. The agents are taking good care of me.
We can see that.
What are you doing here, instead of looking for Rosie?
There's a lot of agents out there.
- You got to trust the efforts made. - I don't.
I don't trust anything anymore.
Take it easy. Let me buy you a drink?
I don't need a drink, I need my daughter.
You got a description of these guys, what else do you need?
Wait a minute, Lydia, you gave them a description, right?
Leave her alone. Come on, Scott!
You got to tell them what you saw!
She saw them! She saw those bastards.
She can't describe them, can she?
- The men, their faces. - We're working on it.
Seeing your father die, it's not easy.
But we're running out of time.
I've seen bad turn to good plenty of times.
You just can't lose faith, all right?
Stupid phone hasn't stopped since we left.
One text and tweet after another. Everybody freaking out about everything.
Kind of glad I missed that party.
Do you really find it necessary for Lydia to look at mug shots again?
Well, they're not mug shots.
They are mug shots, but for our purposes,
they're face samples...
like if somebody has narrow eyes or big ears or a pointy chin.
If any of that reminds Lydia of the guys in the van,
then we have a start.
After what Rosie's dad said, I'm willing to try anything.
- Oh, my God. - What is it?
It's her! It's Rosie!
She's alive!
Looks like it was sent from a prepaid burn phone.
Put it up.
That's just outside Fairfax Station...
- not much around there. - Zooming in.
What's that little box?
It's not a box, it's a trailer.
McGee, give us a route.
Let's go. Come on.
Clear.
Dead body, Boss.
Clearly disgusting.
Not cold. Recent.
Receipts from a discount clothing store.
Lots of duct tape.
She was here. They cut her loose so she could eat.
It's the burn phone,
with Rosie's outgoing text.
She sneaks half a message to Lydia
from this loser's phone, loser gets whacked for letting it happen.
The other kidnapper takes off with Rosie.
The question's where?
The girl's still out there,
clock's ticking.
We're all spread a little thin on this one,
so I wanted to check on Stinky here personally.
He is rather pungent, isn't he?
Ever wish you could just wake up a dead guy
so he can tell you what you want.
I don't have to wish, it's what I do.
- Sans the waking part. - I'd need the waking,
if only to have the pleasure of putting this creep to sleep all over again.
Ah, yes.
Of all the crimes we deal with
every day, there's none more heinous
than those involving children.
They enrage our sensibilities.
That's putting it nicely.
Yeah, well,
if it's any comfort, this man's disdain for personal hygiene
renders him literally caked with information.
You'll tell us something useful, won't you?
Even if I have to swab every detestable inch of you.
Name's Shawn Oakby, Boss.
He was a long-time loser,
petty theft, assaults, drug charges...
but no kidnapping, no sex crimes.
Well, he's new at this, prone to mistakes.
Same can't be said for whoever he called in the last few days.
Every number gets me to another burner or dummy device.
Smarter crooks than this dumb-ass.
The phones must be turned off, I'm not getting a signal.
What, McGee?
I just dug these photos out of the phone's trash.
That's where they belong.
Makeup, party dress...
that would explain those discount store receipts.
- He sent these out? - Yeah.
To the other burn phones.
What do you think, Boss?
Boss?
Write this down.
Miranda Pennebaker.
Okay, who is she?
These days, who knows?
Call the FBI, ask Fornell where to find her.
She's got seven aliases,
and a dozen agencies around the world have her on their watch lists.
Then don't ask Fornell, tell him to find her.
Tell him to call me.
That looks like him, the one who grabbed me.
- Dad nailed him good. - He had the bruises to prove it.
But still no Rosie?
It looks like we're getting one step closer.
This is a "women only" kind of thing down here?
Pretty intimidating?
Lydia, can you give us a minute?
Okay, so, what's wrong, Gibbs?
They're trying to sell her.
What?
They had pictures of her... makeup,
skimpy dress... sent out to a buyer or buyers.
Highest bidder, maybe.
So what's the plan?
She see the picture of our dead guy's mug shot?
She recognized him immediately.
Any chance that seeing him helped her remember his partner?
- We can keep working on that. - I want you both to stay with her.
- Make her feel safe. - Where?
- I mean, it's getting late. - Is there a safe house available?
My house.
Your house?
Hey, Tobias,
where is Pennebaker?
How you been?
Now, you of all people should know I don't take surprises well.
How ever did you find me?
It was easier than I thought.
Creature of habit.
I take it you haven't tracked me down just to catch up with my dog.
It's been a while.
Any chance you remember how we left things?
The words "I owe you one" spring to mind.
Foolishly, you rebuffed my efforts to repay your kindness
in a way that most men would consider...
mutually beneficial.
You still in sales?
I keep my toe in the pond.
But I'm enjoying my grandson's company
far too much to go on those long business trips abroad.
That, and your passport got revoked.
Just out of curiosity,
what sort of merchandise are you looking to move?
It's not for me, someone I'm after.
A young girl.
You do know I still have this blackjack up my sleeve.
I have seen you sell everything
from stolen jewels
to that old Navy gunboat.
But never a girl.
Come on, Gibbs.
Of the few things I won't do for profit,
human trafficking tops the list.
I meant nothing by it, okay?
This is a young girl, she's barely 16.
She's got parents who care.
She could be halfway around the world, as far as I know.
The only reason I thought of you...
Hell, what can I say?
Time for a Hail Mary.
Or a Hail Miranda.
I will hail whatever you got.
In that case...
I do know someone.
He's not into that particular abomination, but...
he certainly may know some people who are.
You're with me?
Just when I thought I was out, you've dragged me back in again.
You wretched man.
Don't let Gibbs' decor fool you, 'cause upstairs, it's like a disco.
Somehow I doubt that.
Making you wise beyond your years.
Is this his TV?
That? Oh, that is not just a TV.
That TV came over on the Mayflower.
- You're on fire tonight, Abby. - I'm trying.
- He had it on the Western Channel. - That's...
probably his only channel.
And about that, she's not joking.
My dad loves Westerns.
Or he did.
He and Gibbs would have gotten along.
I'm sure my house would look like this
if my mom weren't to dress it up.
Which reminds me,
I have to get an update on your mother's travel arrangements.
And I'm gonna start cooking, if you want to help me.
I'm not hungry.
I wouldn't mind a shower, though.
A shower, that's a great idea.
I can get you going on that.
- Yes? - Is Edgar Hayes home?
Yes, he is. Who's this?
The Duchess of Windsor.
I'll be right there.
Another alias?
It's an inside joke.
He fancies himself a historian of all things bawdy.
He's not into kids, right?
Edgar may be many things, but he's not a pedophile.
Miranda, are you out of your mind?
- It's great to see you, too, Edgar. - Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS.
Nice to meet you, Agent, but I'm afraid I'm hosting an important dinner party,
- so, you'll have to... - Who is it, honey? Invite them in!
No need, babe.
it's just a messenger. Work stuff.
- Don't get up. - Relax, Edgar.
We're not about to tell your wife who I am,
or how many times you tried to get me to sell you things
I absolutely do not sell.
What do you want?
Ms. Pennebaker says you work at the State Department.
- What else did she tell you? - Nothing sordid.
Some perversions are best left
- to the imagination. - I need your international reach.
I've got a kidnapped girl for sale. Who's in the market?
How would I know that, exactly?
Goodness, I'm a bit peckish. What are you serving in there?
All right, all right, just...
I'll make some calls.
After dinner.
I'm hungry.
Now. I'll make some calls now.
- But it'll still take some time. - We don't have time.
All right.
That was fun.
- Fun? - You're still fun.
- Yeah, Duck? - Cheerio, Jethro.
You'll be pleased to know I've discovered something
- of rather vital importance. - Nice, Tony. Put Ducky on.
Really? I thought that was kind of good.
I do not say "cheerio".
Got it.
Ducky does have some news, Boss.
It turns out Filthy McNasty had some clues stuck in those nooks and crannies.
Yes, the hands and forearms in particular, Jethro,
all caked with a mixture of rosin, polycarbon dust
- and machinery grease. - Garage mechanic?
I'd say handyman at best.
Polycarbon dust and rosin are often used at sporting events
by athletes trying to keep their hands dry from sweat.
Well, Pigpen here is certainly no athlete, but maybe
he's been hanging out with some athletes?
Or cricketers. No, no.
Baseballers, gymnasts, weight lifters...
- Bowling. - Bowlers.
The bowling alley.
Got it.
I got to go.
But of course.
That was an excellent frittata, my friend.
- Do you want seconds? - No. I've had plenty.
You didn't like it.
Abby, look at this maternal side in you.
How about you.
I walked in when you were talking
about death and your family and everything.
That was really amazing.
- I almost lost it. - But you did not.
Instead, you...
walked in with Lydia's cell phone and you became the instant hero.
It's a teenage girl and a smartphone,
that is a no-brainer.
You know, when I was her age,
I was about to go into the military.
I was trying to figure out
re-atomization as a mode of safer transport.
And I won my first bowling tournament.
You bowl?
Are you feeling better?
Kind of.
You know how thoughts pop into your mind in the shower sometimes?
What? What popped?
The other guy from the van,
he was kind of pudgy with a beard.
I think I can describe him now.
That's great. I'll get my laptop.
- Blackout. - It would appear so.
I have a flashlight in my bag, if I can find it.
I got you covered.
- All right! - Teenage girl with her cell phone.
There's nothing to worry about it's just a power outage. Happens.
- We are cool. - No, we're not cool.
The streetlights are still on.
- So are neighboring houses. - Maybe it's a fuse.
Get back upstairs. Now.
NCIS! Identify yourself!
No! Where is she!
That's what I was gonna ask you.
It's a frying pan.
It's a little cliché.
Works for me.
- Are you guys okay? - Hand me your phone.
Oh, my God.
It's Fred.
Hey, look, it was just about the money, okay?
One final score.
Didn't mean for it to get out of hand.
Out of hand like kidnapping, murder, assaulting a federal agent?
Where's the girl?
I wish I knew.
I was just the set-up man.
At the last minute, they made me drive the van, too.
Who's they?
A guy I met in prison. Merle.
And his idiot buddy Shawn.
I had them in to help me fix the pin setters.
Couple weeks ago, they came to me asking about,
you know, girls.
Said if I steered them in the right direction, they'd cut me in.
How much?
Two girls. Half-a-mil.
We only ended up with one, but hell, even split three ways,
250 K's a life-changer.
Who's the buyer?
Some rich freak who likes virgins.
- That's his thing. - Permission to hit him again?
Look, I'm not proud of myself, okay?
Didn't mean for Dave to get shot. Didn't even know he was gonna be there.
But when you heard Lydia might be able to recognize
the kidnappers, had to do something.
- You followed them. - I got scared.
- I got desperate. - You got caught!
Where's Rosie?
- I don't know. - You've been to prison.
You know what kind of inmates other inmates hate the most.
- Child sex offenders. - Use your head, Fred!
Isn't Bert, like,
the most relaxing thing?
He's, like,
the most Zen hippo in the whole universe.
Abby, when is this gonna stop?
Soon?
I hope.
But the Navy is doing
everything they can to bring your mom here.
You're just gonna have to be strong.
- Bet you were an awesome teenager. - I was
awesomely awkward.
- We would have been good friends. - Would have been?
Promise me, when this whole thing's over,
just know you still have friends here.
Me and Ziva and Gibbs.
I mean, we may not be related, but we can relate.
Amen to that.
What do you got?
Something weird.
I was going over Shawn Oakby's labs,
and I found significant doses of dimenhydrinate.
It's over-the-counter stuff for motion sickness.
Taking a little trip?
I'm thinking flying or deep sea something.
Or both?
Yeah, DiNozzo.
- Can you come to the squad room? - I'll be right there.
You ever know anybody named Shmeil?
What kind of name is that?
It's a respected Hebrew name, actually.
Derived from the biblical Ishmael,
meaning "His name is God".
- She did say he was influential. - Who is influential?
- Nobody. - Shmeil.
Well, yes, he certainly is, and I love him dearly for it.
I loved like that once.
- Bet his name wasn't Shmeil. - His name's none of your business.
- Who are you exactly? - Your worst nightmare.
Whoever she is, I like her very much.
You're waiting for me, Penn?
Only for about 20 years.
You'll be pleased to know our man Edgar sang like
a proverbial canary.
Your buyer's name is Claude Damien...
LaMonde.
On it.
He's an aging French-Vietnamese drug dealer,
a scum of the earth.
When he's not profiting from children selling his poison,
he's happily abusing them.
- For years he was... - Got him here, Boss.
Claude Damien LaMonde,
longtime resident of Hanoi,
forced out in 2007.
Avoiding extradition to France, he's taken to international waters.
He lives in a converted minesweeper, currently located here.
The Golden Maiden.
It's anchored 200 nautical miles off the Virginia coast.
Never anchored. Always on the move, I'd say.
Or at least I was about to before I was so rudely interrupted.
Sorry.
You got more?
But of course.
LaMonde's helicopter's due to arrive on the ground of a farm just outside Reston
at dawn.
They are flying her out to sea, special delivery.
How's your stomach, DiNozzo?
Queasy just thinking about it, Boss.
Come on. Move!
I got your pretty young thing here. All I need is my cash, we're good to go.
Let her go.
Let her go!
- Listen to the man, Merle. - Don't make him say it again.
- Rosie. - Mom. Dad.
The first thing Rosie wanted to know is if you were all right.
- What did you tell her? - I told her
that you were a very good friend.
Is she back home already?
After a night in the hospital for evaluation.
- But her parents are with her. - Yes.
Just as your father will always be for you.
Can we go back to that big-screen room and call my mom,
tell her the good news?
Why don't you tell her now?
Mom!
My baby.
You came back.
Still making moonshine down here?
Not for years.
Might be fun, though.
Smells like...
Wood?
Like...
Varnish?
Quiet reflection.
My own.
That pond I've kept my toe in...
I'm considering
pulling it out for good.
Investing in my future.
A zebra...
can't change its stripes.
but a woman can.
- Took you long enough to get back. - You ever impound a minesweeper?
They don't exactly have valet parking. You look nice.
Thank you. We're going out.
- We? - Shmeil and I.
- He landed an hour ago. - The mighty Shmeil has landed.
He's got a lot to live up to.
Can I ask, do his feet touch the ground?
He's just a man, Tony. Currently, he's actually using the restroom.
It was out of towels.
Luckily, the nice man in the hall had
the janitor bring me some.
You know him, actually.
He said his name was Leon.
Very fond of you.
That's our director.
Tony DiNozzo, I want you to meet my very good friend Shmeil Pinkhas.
Poet, philosopher and Middle East historian.
Listen to her kvelling.
But who can argue with a smile like that?
I think I met someone of that name at a hotel bar in Geneva.
An older version of you,
outgoing, quite dashing.
Let me get this straight, you've met my father?
Nice kid.
And such stories.
Many I cannot repeat in mixed company,
but he...
he had me laughing.
Well, if he stuck you with the check, then that's our guy.
Then you must join us.
Gosh, I couldn't.
You know, I'm sure you want to be alone, and I...
- I have all this... - No, we have plenty of time,
and Shmeil is actually spending the night, so...
I've known my Ziva since she was
three years old. Trust me,
we'll be talking till dawn.
DiNozzo, let's party.
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