♪ So whatcha gonna do, get another crew? ♪
♪ You know you're sweatin', but you ain't got no flow... ♪
Quick, quick, okay, done, done. Get off.
Last chance to tap out.
Hey, man.
Morning.
You okay?
Yeah, I'm fine. Why?
Looks like you had a late night.
Well, either that or you just got your pupils dilated.
My pupils are fine, thank you.
Met up with some friends, I had a late night,
and I just need to get some sleep.
That's all. Wait a sec.
You were supposed
to meet up with me and Kasie,
but you texted me, said you were tired
and you wanted to stay in.
Yeah, I got a second wind.
Aka blew us off.
Oh, welcome to the club.
He was gonna join Delilah and I at a movie last week,
and something came up at the last minute.
Supposedly.
And we spend all day together at work.
Do we have to spend every second of our lives together, too?
Yes.
In an odd but perfect world, yeah.
Where's Parker?
He's been up in Vance's office for quite a while now.
Does he have any of his pastries?
I'm starving.
Hey.
Um...
How much did you have to drink last night?
What? No, I'm not drinking.
I'm just, I'm just tired.
Just back it up. We're good. Okay.
You got to tell me where you got these.
Food cart on 14th.
Across from the dry cleaners.
Not the cell phone repair place.
Though Cell Phone Guy
makes surprisingly good gulab jamun.
Why are these two so friendly all of a sudden?
Oh, uh, night shift is over.
Oh, Agent Sawyer stayed late
to, uh, pitch the director a few ideas.
Hmm.
It's called giving 110%.
You should give it a try.
Well, that's physically impossible.
Thanks for breakfast, Agent Parker.
Yeah, no problem.
Hey, can Big Daddy get one of those?
Sorry. Sawyer grabbed the last one.
Special Agent Parker.
If only you'd shown up to work on time.
Guess the early bird gets the brioche.
All right, got it.
Department of Waste Management's got a dead sailor
at the transfer station.
Let's roll.
You guys need an extra hand? I'm all done here.
Oh, no, we got it covered.
Car is full.
Too many cooks.
Take a nap.
So, "waste transfer station" is just a fancy way
of saying "garbage dump."
Yeah, looks like it. Smells like it, too.
I'm really beginning to regret
not letting Sawyer take my place.
Careful what you wish for.
What does that mean?
Well, what do you think Parker was doing
with him in Vance's office?
Didn't think about it.
Give it a shot.
New people like to bring in more new people?
I'm thinking it's way worse than that.
What could possibly be worse
than you having to work with Sawyer every day?
Well, Parker has our performance evals from last week.
Maybe he's thinking of replacing one of us.
He couldn't replace McGee if he tried.
Yeah, that leaves you or me.
Oh.
And of course it would be Sawyer.
Whatever.
I've lost a job before.
"Whatever"?
Life goes on.
Yo, yo. Hey.
You two get lost on the way here?
Torres needed to stop for a coffee.
Late night.
I bet.
I can see your dilated pupils from here, Torres.
Dead body. Who is it?
Well, this is Lieutenant Junior Grade Kane Lantz.
Worked as an I.T. specialist.
Speaking of pupils, he seems to be missing one.
It doesn't appear to be related to the cause of death, though.
Judging by the cyanosis, I'd say
that we're looking at asphyxiation.
Sanitation workers found him in the back of their truck
after they arrived at the station.
Yeah, could've been picked up somewhere along their route.
Maybe, uh,
talk to the workers, retrace the route.
Maybe we can figure out where he was dumped.
Knight, talk to Lantz's CO, see if you can find out, um,
whatever there is to find out.
On it.
I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but, uh,
we've got a missing eyeball that we have to...
Oh, please don't finish that sentence.
...find.
Probably somewhere around here, you know,
just covered in juicy forensic evidence.
Any volunteers
to help look? Any takers?
Yeah, you know what? On second thought,
Knight, I uh, I'm gonna go talk to Lantz's CO.
Uh, have fun finding that eyeball.
Are you really pulling rank right now?
It hurts me more than it hurts you.
Uh-oh.
What does "uh-oh" mean?
It means we're about to get screwed.
You know these guys?
No, but, uh, multiple unmarked SUVs
usually aren't a good sign.
Let's secure the perimeter.
And I want a tarp around the body now.
Excuse me.
Can we help you?
This is a closed crime scene.
Agent Collins, Defense Intelligence Agency.
Now it's our closed crime scene.
Alden Parker, NCIS. Can I ask why?
You can ask, but the answer's classified.
It's a simple question.
Why is DIA messing with our case?
As Agent Collins told you, that's classified.
We got a dead Navy lieutenant. Cut the crap.
Director Vance, I would caution your agent
to remember who he's speaking with.
With all due respect, I would like an answer to his question.
You want me to say "pretty please,"
I'm more than happy to do that, too.
Or perhaps, respectfully,
you could just read us in
on DIA's operation.
Pretty please.
Respectfully.
I take it by now you're aware that Lieutenant Lantz
was assigned to the Office of Naval Intelligence.
Yeah. He identified vulnerabilities in your system,
then he built patches for the weak points.
And he was damn good at it, too.
Unfortunately, when DIA agents
swept Lantz's apartment this morning,
they discovered his secure laptop had gone missing.
Lantz took a classified laptop home with him?
He shouldn't have, but it happens.
Perhaps with his workload and the agencies who depend on him,
he thought it was his only option.
What was on it?
Descriptions of those weak spots
in ONI's servers that you mentioned.
If exploited, it could allow our enemies access
to a whole range of government systems.
That's a problem.
ONI uses the strongest biometric security in existence,
so, theoretically, that laptop is only accessible
by Lieutenant Lantz.
Or by anyone with his eyeball.
Which is currently missing.
So you can appreciate why DoD's top priority
is to recover that missing laptop as soon as possible.
And NCIS's top priority is justice for Lieutenant Lantz.
And his eyeball.
And I'm sure that we can all walk
and chew gum at the same time.
Joe doesn't chew gum. He's got TMJ.
I actually had a condylotomy last month.
I'm right as rain now, Park.
You two know each other?
Long story.
The way you tell it.
Too bad I don't have time.
For the moment,
DIA will look for the missing laptop.
And we'll track Lantz's killer.
And with any luck, finding one will lead to the other.
You got a hell of a Rolodex, Parker.
And I'd like to hear that story sometime.
Any word from Knight?
Uh, she and Jimmy are still rooting around in garbage,
searching for that missing eyeball.
Well, it's probably not there,
but let's not spoil their fun just yet.
All right, so, Lieutenant Lantz,
who are you?
Lieutenant Kane Lantz.
He grew up poor, and his parents died
when he was seven years old.
He bounced around foster care till he aged out at 18.
No picnic. Yeah, until he got into college
on an ROTC scholarship.
He graduated an officer.
You talk to his CO? Yeah.
He said that, uh, Lantz was quiet,
worked hard, kept to himself.
No red flags. Well, I got one.
He took home a classified laptop he wasn't supposed to.
Also, there was some, uh, unusual bank activity.
The past year,
he was taking out more than he was putting in.
A lot more.
Gambling problem?
No, whatever the problem is, we don't think it was his.
Most of the withdrawals
were being transferred to this guy.
Alex Russo.
Lantz's former foster brother.
They spent a year together in a home when they were kids.
Fair to say we should scoop him up.
Oh, way ahead of you. Waiting in the conference room.
Oh, you guys work fast.
I don't, I don't know nothing about nothing, man.
We haven't actually asked you anything yet.
Well, go on. I still don't know.
Do you know who that is?
Yeah.
Yeah, that's my... that's my brother.
Or the closest thing I've got to one.
Seems like you treated him more like an ATM.
And his bank statement shows that your brother gave you
quite a bit of money over the last few years.
Is this really what you dragged me out of work for?
Why do you need that money?
I ain't got to tell you jack.
Mr. Russo, your brother was killed yesterday.
What?
We found his body this morning.
Oh, my God. I-I...
So if you know something...
I, I tried to keep him out of it.
Tried to keep him out of what?
I'm not the best with money.
Kane would help me out now and then,
um, when I got into trouble.
And you've been getting into a lot of trouble, I take it?
I got tired of asking Kane for money.
So I found somebody else to give me a loan.
But then I, I skipped a couple payments.
Then one day this big scary dude
with an Eastern European accent came by
and he said, uh, they would
wipe my debt...
if I just...
If you what?
If I give them my brother's laptop.
His military-grade, biometrically-protected laptop?
It looked like a normal computer to me, okay?
And I thought the Navy would buy him another one.
He was real mad, man, when he found out.
He said if he reported me, I could go to jail.
Well, maybe you deserved to.
Let me guess, big brother tried to fix it on his own?
He said he would go get the laptop himself.
It just would have been nice
to know the DIA thinks that Lantz's eye
is with the stolen computer before I spent two hours
digging through the trash.
It was just a theory, and we still needed to know.
I would have stayed to help you, Agent Knight,
but the lieutenant's body was calling.
Oh, sure, used your job as an excuse.
Mm-hmm.
Hey, speaking of excuses, uh,
anyone else buying this, uh, Torres "second wind" thing
as far as blowing you off last night?
No.
He seemed a little off this morning, too.
Something has got him in a mood.
Yeah, I don't know.
It's like he's been more and more...
Distant?
Yeah.
Ever since... Alaska.
Would you stop finishing my sentences?
Yeah.
Yeah, I've noticed that, too.
It's like a delayed reaction or something.
Maybe he should talk to Dr. Grace.
That's never gonna happen.
At least one of us?
What?
Jimmy,
people have been known to bare their souls to you.
It's like this basement
has given you mystical powers.
Okay, fine. Yes, I will try
to get him to open up. Try.
After the update, though.
Yes, let's do that. Cause of death
was a tracheal rupture.
His windpipe was crushed.
Meaning he was choked to death?
Yeah, but it was a rocky road to get to the end of that line.
You're gonna have to de-metaphor that for me.
The lieutenant had multiple breaks
in his proximal phalanges.
His left shoulder was dislocated.
He had tears in both of his biceps
as well as massive bruising
all around his torso.
Also, several of his fingernails were removed.
He wasn't choked to death.
He was tortured.
Yeah, the only question now is, by who?
I may have an answer.
You always do. Hmm.
And for the record, normally that can be annoying,
but it seems to work for you.
Thank you. And you have nice teeth.
Since we're, you know,
we're giving each other compliments.
Yeah, or we could just...
Get back to the case. Yeah.
Yeah, so, as it turns out, the victim's entire body
was covered in touch DNA.
Let me guess, you got a hit?
Oh, your optimism is cute, but no. Not a single one.
But using samples from around the lieutenant's throat,
I'm working on forensic DNA
phenotyping the killer, which is basically...
Predicting visual traits based on someone's DNA.
Oh. I may not have a name to give you,
but at least you'll have a sketch
of the suspect so you'll know who to look for.
I guess that's better than nothing.
Not the enthusiastic reaction I was hoping for,
but, luckily, there's more.
See those white flecks?
Those are goose down fiber particles
I pulled from Lantz's abrasions.
Interestingly, they're unprocessed,
like it was plucked straight from the source.
So our victim was killed in a petting zoo?
As it turns out, there are no zoos, petting or otherwise,
within a 20-mile radius of the sanitation workers' route.
But I found an apparel factory
that specialized in winter parkas.
It closed down two years ago.
My guess? The unprocessed down
came from there.
Isolated street, blacked-out windows,
excessive number of padlocks on this fence.
Pretty on-brand for a torture chamber,
if you ask me.
NCIS!
I'll look for the light.
I'll look for the dentist's chair.
Well, this doesn't look like a torture chamber.
What exactly is this place?
Yes, I'll keep you updated, General Clark.
Um, yeah, my daughter began her training
at FLETC last week.
How did you hear about that?
If you can, try and keep that on the DL, please.
Thank you.
So, uh, I'm just gonna pretend
that I, uh, didn't hear any of that, right?
Hear what?
Ah, Agent McGee, right on time.
The DIA director was disappointed
we didn't find Lantz's laptop.
And what did we find?
Well, uh, as far as we can tell,
that warehouse appears to be some sort of
cage-fighting arena.
Cage fighting?
The, uh, underground type.
Jimmy confirms that our lieutenant's
asphyxiation could be consistent with injuries from a fight.
So his death could have been an accident.
Well, the accident doesn't explain
why somebody ripped his eye out.
Well, none of it explains how a Navy lieutenant
who tried to get back his stolen laptop
ends up in an underground fight club instead.
So, this is our killer?
A phenotype rendering of him, yeah.
Uh, Caucasian, blond hair,
blue eyes.
About six-two, 200 pounds.
And according to his DNA, he probably sneezes
when he looks at the sun, but...
I'm not sure that's relevant.
Can you print that out for me?
Coming PDQ.
Torres, I need you to show this image
to our victim's brother in the morning.
See if he recognizes the face, all right?
Sure. Unless you'd rather have Agent Sawyer do it.
Do you think I should have Agent Sawyer do it?
Haven't really thought about it.
Ah.
You know, if you have a problem, Agent Torres,
my door is always open.
Especially since I don't have one.
No, no. No problem.
Just tell me what to do and I'll do it.
A job is a job.
Sorry, did you still want this?
I can come back.
I mean, it is my office, but...
Is this hot-cold thing normal for him?
No, that was super weird.
Okay. Great, no, yeah, he just walked in.
I'll let him know. Thanks.
Good news.
Torres just talked to the victim's brother.
Turns out the guy in the CGI image
is the same guy that had him steal that laptop.
So we got our killer.
Did the brother happen to catch
a name, by any chance? No, but at least we have
a face to go with that scary Eastern European accent.
Well, that narrows it down to 292 million people.
Well, I just narrowed it down even further to one.
Though, for the record,
it is strange that you know
the exact population of Eastern Europe.
I compared the image to the traffic cam footage
from an intersection near the cage-fighting warehouse
and I got a hit.
Does that guy look familiar?
Looks like we found
our scary European.
I assume you ran the plates?
They're fake.
But look what is on the dash.
"Metro Discount Tires."
He works there. And I already got the employee records.
Oh.
Hello, Maxim Dovhal.
Only problem is, Maxim Dovhal doesn't exist.
There are no records of someone by that name
outside of these payroll records.
He could be an undocumented worker,
looking to stay off the radar.
Well, let's stake out the tire shop
and wait for him to come to work.
That works for me.
Uh, listen, but, uh, before you two go,
uh, I want to ask you something.
Does Torres have some kind of an issue with Agent Sawyer?
Um, well, I-I think, uh, everyone does
at some point or another. Why?
Well, he's acting, I don't know... something.
Yeah, you're not the only one who's noticed something.
Although I don't think it's Sawyer.
I think he's just icing on the cake.
What's the cake?
Don't know.
And I'm not sure you're gonna get Nick
to talk about it either, you know?
The more you-you push him, the more he shuts down.
Well, then, let's stop pushing.
You know him best, McGee. You got any ideas?
Stakeout.
Stakeout gets boring, you know, it may get him talking.
All right, sounds good.
Why don't you sit this one out, tag Torres in,
and you put your hostage negotiating skills to work.
You want me to get the sealed black box to open up?
Mm-hmm.
I'll give it a shot. Wish me luck.
No sign of Dovhal. You got anything?
Nothing.
Could you look a little less bored
while we're trying to find this guy?
It's a stakeout. It's boring.
Well, we could be here for a while,
so you got to keep your energy up.
Okay, let's play Carpool Karaoke.
Not in your lifetime.
You don't sing?
Not in front of people.
At least not until I've had a few drinks.
How about 20 questions?
It's a hard pass. Oh, come on.
Ask me anything.
Okay. So would you rather
shave Vance's mustache or Parker's beard?
Seriously?
You said anything. Which one?
Neither.
Nope. You got to pick one.
Is this something that you've thought about before?
Can you just answer the damn question?
Fine. Parker.
Wow. Interesting.
Why is that interesting?
Is that your question?
No. No.
I have got a much better one.
Okay. Lay it on me.
How...
...are you doing?
What kind of question is that?
The kind you ask a friend if you're worried about them.
Is this a game or an intervention?
Do you think you need an intervention?
Next question.
I answered your weird question about
our bosses' facial hair, so...
I'm fine.
So just drop it. Okay?
I'm just trying to be a good friend, okay?
But we're colleagues, we're not friends.
We're supposed to have each other's backs on the job,
and that is it.
What are you talking about?
I've only been here for a minute and I know
that's not how Gibbs' team works.
Well, this isn't Gibbs' team anymore.
Is it?
Two o'clock.
Yeah, that's him.
Maxim Dovhal? NCIS.
You need to step over here and put your hands
behind your head.
You're under arrest for the murder
of Lieutenant Kane Lantz.
I go right!
Dovhal, stop!
Where the hell is he?
Where'd he go?
Oh!
Kick me harder.
What?
It has to look convincing.
Don't move, man.
Hit me.
Please. They could be watching.
So, how do you know Lieutenant Lantz?
I don't know this man.
I find that very hard to believe, since your DNA
was all over him.
Which happens sometimes after you murder someone.
I had no choice. I-I didn't want to hurt him.
Well, you hurt him.
They forced us to fight.
They said they'd kill my wife
if I didn't do exactly as I was told.
Who is "they"?
I don't know. I don't know who's in charge.
I just... do as they say.
And where's your wife?
I don't know.
We can help you find her
if you tell us
how you got involved
in an underground fight club in the first place.
My wife Elena and I, we're from Belarus.
We've always dreamed of coming to America.
Then, last year
we saw an advertisement promising good jobs here,
bypassing official immigration rules for a fee.
It doesn't work that way.
It does where I come from.
But when we got here,
we were separated and sent to different locations.
They said if we spoke to the police, we'd be killed.
They made me collect money from people.
Eventually...
They made you fight.
I haven't heard from my wife in months.
If they make me fight against my will,
I cannot even think what Elena is being forced to do.
I'll pay the price for killing this man.
But please...
...find my Elena.
Our underground fight club case just turned
into a human trafficking case.
Well, do we know why these traffickers were so interested
in Lantz's laptop?
We think they wanted access
to ONI servers to backdoor their way
into Homeland Security's systems.
When Lantz went to get his laptop back,
they told him he could fight for it.
But they were never gonna let him go.
They needed his eye.
Do we know who "they" is yet?
A buddy at the Bureau thinks that these traffickers
are part of a nationwide network of other fight clubs
and prostitution rings.
So, we take them down.
I mean, we know where one of them is operating.
Well, yeah, but if we go through the front door
without knowing where those others clubs are,
they could disappear into thin air.
Along with the other victims like Maxim and his wife.
We need to figure out who the head guy is
before we make a move.
Are you saying we should go undercover as fighters?
Maxim says that they hold challenge matches
every few weeks.
What are the chances that the head
of a trafficking organization is actually gonna show his face?
Not good.
But Maxim did say that he likes to meet privately
with the really good newcomers who win their fights.
All right, so we need to sign up,
win, get a meeting with the boss.
Right, I'm thinking that you and Torres go in together
to fight each other, then no matter who wins,
we meet the boss.
No, no, no. Not McGee.
What, you don't think I'd make a convincing cage fighter?
Okay, fine.
I wouldn't make a convincing cage fighter.
I appreciate the vote of confidence.
'Cause if we're doing this,
it's got to be real.
I would have to hurt you, and...
I can't do that.
Then I guess we need to find somebody you can hurt.
Any suggestions?
I may have one in mind, yeah.
Oh, this might just be the worst decision I've ever made.
All right, Torres, let's hear it.
Tiago Morales.
Born February 4, 1979,
Colombia.
Moved to Nevada when I was three.
Sawyer? Scott Blake.
Born August 11, 1985.
From Fayette County, Pennsylvania.
Once we take the trafficking ring down, I'd love to talk
to you about making undercover work
my regular assignment. Ah.
My talents are wasted behind a desk.
All you and Agent Torres need to focus on right now is the fight.
I'll be ringside, part of the team.
Knight and I will run comms from the van.
If at any time you need to stop the fight,
Agent McGee will throw the white towel.
That won't be necessary.
All right, Torres, you are winning.
You're gonna get our meeting with the boss.
Torres, Sawyer, why don't you two get comfortable
with each other's styles before you go live, okay?
Well, this should be fun.
What it needs to be is convincing.
Well, if you want it to be convincing, Director,
I should probably be the winner.
Or, Director, I can just kick
the crap out of him, and then it would be
really, really convincing.
Okay, why don't we just stick to the plan,
or McGee and I will get in the ring?
Nobody wants to see that.
All right, ready.
What the hell are you doing? Just showing moves,
in case the director wants to change his mind.
It's not an audition, man.
You're lucky enough to be here
and not pushing papers on night shift.
Okay. Calm down. Take it easy, Nick.
Why are you so threatened by me, Torres?
I mean, I guess I get the jealousy.
Say that again. What?
That I'm twice the agent you'll ever be?
Hey, hey, hey!
All right, all right, that's enough.
Nick, Nick, Nick... Knock it off!
Come on! Back off. All right, fight's over.
Come on, man.
Well, this is certainly going how I thought it would.
At least my part's done.
We're on for tonight?
I just spoke with Maxim's contact.
The normal buy-in for a challenge fight is $500,
but I struck a deal-- a thousand each-- and Torres and Sawyer
are guaranteed to fight each other. Good work, Agent Knight.
All we have to do now
is keep these two from killing each other.
Comm check? Go for Torres.
Go for McGee. Go for Sawyer.
All right, move in. Remember, your contact's name is Sammy.
All right, guys, we ready?
Let's go, team.
Team. Right.
You good?
Let's just get this over with.
Whoa, whoa!
We're not open to the public.
You want in on the action, go online at www... No, no, no.
We're actually here for the challenge fight.
Sammy's expecting us.
Tiago Morales and, uh,
Scott Blake. Check the list.
You the money guy?
Small bills, non-sequential, just like Sammy asked.
Hmm.
Keys, phones, wallets.
You'll get 'em back at the end of the night.
Wait back there until you hear your names.
Hey.
Who the hell are you?
Ah, name's Eddy.
This is Tiago Morales,
this is Scott Blake.
And this is for you.
Oh, yeah, challenge fighters.
Your girl told me to expect you. You know the rules?
Everything goes, right?
Yeah, as long as you put on a good show.
All right, boys, let's go get loose.
Yeah, oh, except one more thing.
Uh, Morales,
you're gonna fight Vern first, not your buddy here.
Whoa, whoa. Hold on. No, no.
That wasn't the deal. My boys fight each other.
Oh, yeah? Whatever.
It's not how it works.
You don't get to request your opponent.
Why not?
Because for all I know,
the three of you have some kind of arrangement.
Maybe you got some outside bets on this one.
You're calling me a cheat?
Look around, pal.
This place ain't exactly full of saints.
And, um, I'm not one either.
So, he fights Vern,
or we got a problem.
Yeah, it's no problem.
Don't worry about it.
I'm pretty sure I can take a guy named Vern.
Good. Yo, Vern?
Come meet your new opponent.
Guy's pretty big.
It's your call, Nick. Whatever you want to do, man.
Actually, it's my call.
All right, the operation's off.
We'll find another way to get to
whoever's running this thing. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.
What if we don't get this close again?
Maybe we wait and see who Sawyer's paired up with
before we make any decisions.
Yeah, works for me.
Everybody just chill out.
I can take this guy.
Nick, I don't know about this one, man.
Did you see what they did to the lieutenant?
Yeah. So?
Wait. What's going on with you, man?
Nothing.
You see this guy's arms? Each one
is the size of my torso.
Tim, I've done
more dangerous operations than this.
That's the job.
Screw the job.
Well, that's easy for you to say.
Morales,
Vern, you're up.
Hey.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's time.
Our first battle tonight, a challenger bout
featuring a newcomer-- Tiago Morales--
and the Malice from Dallas-- Vern...
How about a big round of applause for these fighters?
Time now for the refs...
McGee, do we have a problem?
What do you think?
Looks like we have a problem.
Sawyer? Copy.
We can't count on Torres winning this thing,
so we better improvise.
I want you to scour the place and find
any useful intel you can
before our boy loses consciousness, all right?
Copy.
♪ Adrenaline rush
♪ So whatcha gonna do, get another crew? ♪
♪ You know you're sweatin', but you ain't got no flow ♪
Does it look as bad in there as it does on the livestream?
He's not dead yet.
How much longer you think he's got?
About three minutes.
Then you've got two minutes
to find something that will lead us to the boss.
♪ Adrenaline rush now
♪ Adrenaline rush, adrenaline rush now ♪
♪ Here we go... ♪
Okay, hold it.
All right, ready? You ready? Go!
Found some kind of office.
Just grab whatever you can.
Nah, there's nothing here.
Just an old desk, and the filing cabinets are empty.
All right, all right. Get out of there.
Hang on.
Got a brand-new fridge.
There's a padlock on it.
Sawyer, you got something?
Yeah. I do.
Quick, quick, okay, done, done. Get off.
Last chance to tap out. Want to call it?
What's he doing?
What are you doing out there? You look
like you're trying to get yourself killed.
Yeah? So?
What do you mean, "So?"
Who's left to care, man?
Me.
Yeah, until you don't.
Nick, where am I going? I'm not going anywhere.
I don't know, man, but you already have a family.
You don't need me.
Let's go! Fighters, to your corners.
To your corners. To your corners.
Go!
He's done. He's done. Let go. Let go.
Let go. Let go. He's done. Let go. Let go.
Get up.
I told you I would beat that guy's ass.
You did.
It's my bad.
And by the way, I do need you.
All right, everyone out.
Now!
You heard the man.
Out. Now.
Uh, we're waiting for our meeting.
What meeting?
A meeting with the big boss.
Boss doesn't meet anyone he doesn't know.
We were told that he likes to meet the new winners.
Who told you that?
Look, if there's a problem,
we're good.
No, we're not good.
Uh, wh-why do you want to meet the boss? Huh?
Who sent you?
Nobody sent us.
Nobody meets the boss. Ever.
NCIS! On the ground!
Get down!
On the ground now! Let's go! Go!
Move it! Hands out in front! Move!
McGee, Torres,
meet the boss.
Sammy's real name is Peter Samkharadze.
No wonder he shortened it. Never would have
pegged him as the top dog. No one did.
That's why he was able to fly under the radar for so long.
Jimmy had mentioned that Lieutenant Lantz's
eyeball could be covered in forensic evidence.
Well, turns out, it was.
Knight and I were able to lift prints off the jar
while Torres was getting his face rearranged.
And Sammy admitted to using the eye
to access the stolen ONI laptop?
Yeah, not only that. Once he realized he was looking
at seven life sentences, the guy couldn't wait to cut a deal.
He admitted to being in charge of the entire operation.
Gave up the location of the laptop
and all the human trafficking rings that he was in charge of.
Victims are being freed as we speak.
General Clark will be glad to hear that.
Give him my best.
Elena? Elena.
Look at this.
Where's Torres? He's missing all the fun.
I sent him down to Jimmy to get stitched up.
Oh. Smart.
There's something about that room down there, you know?
Ah, must've felt good to hit that guy in the face, huh?
Not as good as I thought it would.
Heard you laid into Sawyer, as well.
Yeah.
He was at the wrong place at the wrong time.
So...
are you ready to talk yet?
About?
About why you're so angry.
Oh, okay.
Is that why McGee sent me down here?
We all care about you, Nick,
but you don't have to explain yourself to me, all right?
I get it.
Do you? Yeah, you feel abandoned.
You feel left behind. Trust me, I do get that.
Yeah, of course you do.
You were closer with the old team.
I'm not talking about the team.
I'm talking about Breena.
Jimmy,
you were angry at your wife for dying?
Sometimes.
Even though she fought like hell to stay.
How crazy is that? Huh?
You hide it well.
Not really, no.
I got Dr. Grace on speed-dial.
Oh. Right.
What does she have to say about it?
She usually says, uh,
"And how does that make you feel, Jimmy?"
Of course she does, but isn't that what you pay her for--
to, uh, answer that question?
That's what I thought at first, but then I realized
it's better to come to your own conclusions.
And what I've come to is...
...sometimes people leave.
Even fathers.
And it's got nothing to do with you.
What if it does?
Well, that's when it's time
to lean on the people that are still here for you.
Nick...
you have to open yourself up to getting hurt again
if you ever want to heal.
Captioning sponsored by CBS
and TOYOTA.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org