NCIS s15e09 Episode Script
Ready or Not
1 RADIO DEEJAY: Stay tuned for your morning traffic at the top of the hour after this smooth jazz.
(smooth jazz playing over radio) (sniffs, scoffs) Three dollars for a paper cup of burnt mud? Only in America.
Do forgive my English.
In what language should I repeat that? Or perhaps I could speak more slowly.
No, it's cool, mister.
I got it.
Let me make you a fresh pot.
(ringtone plays) Hey.
How long has your phone been on? Just half hour or so.
What did I tell you? Oh, relax, Andre, would you? No phones until the job is done.
Job is done and it's my mother from Kiev.
What son doesn't answer his mother's calls, huh? Just make it quick.
You worry too much.
(dog barking in distance) Hello, Andre.
Well done, MI5.
Uh, Mr.
Ford, is it? Congratulations.
You found me.
Blasted thing gets the spottiest reception in the States, but the tracking feature turned out to be quite remarkable.
- Leaves me with one question.
- Hmm? Did I find you in time? In time for what exactly? All right.
Let's make it two questions.
My answer to the first is you are far too late.
And the second? (both groan) (groans) Oh, no.
Is this because of me? (groans) (gasps) (van door closes, engine starts) (tires squealing) (line ringing) SLOANE: Hello? (gasping) Hey, Ford? Nigel? Are you there? Hello? NCIS 15x09 Ready or Not Put me down for some of them sweet potatoes.
BISHOP: Abby already called sweet potatoes, but we still need cranberries and REEVES: Cranberries.
I'll bring those.
- Okay.
- No one wants me cooking.
How many tins you think we'll need? TORRES: âTinsâ? You mean cranberries in cans? Some people actually prefer them.
This is my first Thanksgiving, Nick.
Well, don't make it your last.
Bring as many âtinsâ as you want.
I have a cranberry recipe.
We'll compare.
Hey, McGee, what about you and Delilah? You guys coming to Ducky's potluck tomorrow? Oh, we may have to take a rain check on that one.
Is Delilah feeling okay? McGEE: Oh, way better than me.
No, I've been up all night building a second easy-to-assemble crib.
Got three pieces left over-- Flurgendoofs, I think they call them.
I don't know what to do with them.
I still don't understand how it's medically possible for you two to not have known you were having twins.
McGEE: The shrapnel in Delilah's spine made it so that a regular ultrasound is impossible and the babies' heartbeats are so close together in rhythm, doctors just missed it.
It's crazy.
Yeah, what's even crazier is that we now have to come up with two babies' names.
Nick McGee.
Ooh.
Has a nice ring to it.
McGEE: No, no, no.
For the, for the boy, we've got it narrowed down to Indiana, Han, Harrison.
REEVES: Oh, gosh.
Poor kid.
Han McGee.
Yeah, and for the girl BISHOP: Let me guess.
Leia? No.
No Leias.
No Ellies, no Abbys.
We've narrowed it down to six names for the girl and they are Ah, save it for later, McGee.
Saved by the bell.
Dead MI5 officer in Old Town.
MI5? Friend of Sloane's.
(siren wailing) You know what happened? (helicopter whirring) What? Hey.
No.
He called me right before, uh, he, uh The store owner's the only the only, uh, witness, apparently.
I'll check the security footage.
REEVES: Is that Nigel Ford? You knew him? Somewhat of a legend at our training academy.
Cool bloke, great officer.
We all wanted to be him.
Yeah.
You worked with him? Special joint operation two years ago.
Reconnected when he got into town last week, so REEVES: Last I heard, he was chasing some international arms dealer.
Andre Yorka.
That's the name.
SLOANE: That was our case.
Nigel tracked him all the way back here after he snuck in on a fake visa.
I was supposed to deliver my old files to him tonight.
Try to figure out what old Andre was up to.
But what was old Andre up to, Jack? Well, nothing good.
That's pretty clear right now, isn't it? Hey, uh, is this your arms dealer over here? No.
I don't know who that is.
I have Yorka's picture back at my office.
Might have one here.
Clerk I.
D.
'd this man as the shooter.
That's him.
That's Yorka.
Fingerprint came back.
Second victim is Viktor Lopuchin, 42, Baltimore resident, currently employed in commercial food delivery.
Cops said he was unarmed.
REEVES: Innocent bystander, maybe? TORRES: And this may be Yorka.
Or at least his blood.
Trail ends around here.
Burnt rubber points to a fast getaway.
Get a BOLO out on Yorka.
Armed, wounded, dangerous.
Abby, can I call you back? ABBY: No, you can't.
I mean, everything's fine and there's no reason to panic.
(engine revving) Well, why do you sound panicky? (exhales) My water broke, Tim.
Delilah? ABBY: I-I just, I went over to your place for breakfast and it just happened.
Uh, uh, are-are you okay? Is she okay? I'm okay.
She's okay.
She-she's just, she's breathing really hard.
How did this happen? I mean, you're not due for another three weeks.
Well, apparently, the babies had other plans, darling.
Just meet us at the hospital.
Wait.
Wait, Abbs.
GIBBS: McGee.
Go.
Go! Excuse me, an emergency.
(siren wailing) Excuse me, very urgent.
Oh, no.
Uh, excuse me, excuse me.
Has-has my wife come through here yet? We're having a baby-- two of 'em.
Special Agent McGee, follow me.
A little VIP treatment for a fellow law enforcement officer.
Morgan Cade, retired park police.
Took this job last year after my wife died.
Pretty short on excitement, so when the goth girl wheeled your wife into my E.
R.
, (clicks tongue) I got ready for action.
Twins, huh? Son, your life's about to change forever.
(elevator bell dings) (indistinct radio chatter) MORGAN: Here's your man.
(sighing): Oh, McGee.
Thank you, Morgan.
Where is she? Um, she's okay, I think.
The doctor's working on her now.
W-W-Working on her how? You would be Tim? Where's my wife? Can I see her? She's with Dr.
Serena now.
Just a routine exam.
No need to be concerned.
Well, then let me see her.
NURSE: In just a few minutes.
I promise you, she's in good hands.
Make that very good hands.
I've seen some amazing things at this hospital, so you let the doctors do what they got to do and I can promise you it'll all work out for the best.
(baby cries) (baby coos) Officer Nigel Ford, 42 years old.
Royal Air Force, Scotland Yard.
Joined MI5 in 2010 as a covert operative assigned to monitor global threats.
Monitor what exactly? BISHOP: Andre Yorka, 38.
Dishonorably discharged from the Serbian Army in '06; ran with the National Alignment hate group a few years, before his late father got him into the munitions trade.
Now, Yorka fancies himself a master dealmaker, but he has made far more enemies than allies over the years.
Shady business practices got him banned from several countries, and most recently, Romania, which froze his assets just last year.
REEVES: Bad things always seem to happen when this guy pops up.
MI5's been trying to nail him for years, always manages to skate free.
He hires local talent and leaves them behind to take the fall.
Like our innocent bystander at the store.
He's not so innocent after all.
Before immigrating to the U.
S.
, Viktor Lopuchin had ties to Vory v Zakone, the Russian mob.
His record's been clean in the U.
S.
since he started a-a food delivery business in Baltimore.
Old habits die hard.
If Yorka hires local talent BISHOP: What did he hire Viktor to do? All right.
Keep digging on both.
Any surveillance from the shooting? Metro's sending it over.
I'll call and have them hurry.
What about Sloane? Anybody seen Sloane? What? She's down in Autopsy.
JIMMY: I appreciate the assist, Doctor.
Stuffing the turkey can wait.
We have more pressing matters.
Once MI5 asked to have both bodies examined, I suddenly found myself shorthanded.
Should we divide and conquer? JIMMY (quietly): No, let's, uh let's both start here.
At least until SLOANE: Hey, Jimmy, just let me know when you need me to get out of here, okay? He meant a lot to you.
Mm-hmm.
JIMMY: Was he? I mean, were you two? (laughs) Occasionally.
Uh, no, he was a he was a really good friend.
Shoot, I forgot to tell him that.
I forgot to thank him.
I believe you just did.
I swear to God, if Yorka did this, I would give anything to kick his ass.
Put me in a front-row seat.
Gibbs, he is a racist, misogynistic creep, and when we do find him, I swear I am going to Okay.
I got it, I got it.
I got it.
We'll see what we can do.
Duck.
We just put him on the table, Jethro.
Perhaps in an hour What are you doing? What's that smell? That smell, what is that? Is that (sniffing) gasoline? That gun powder? Plastique.
Like Semtex? C-4? Uh-huh.
Dr.
Sloane, if plastic explosives are involved, your friend's killer may deserve more than a kick in the ass.
Delilah, honey, are you okay? Babe, you made it.
Yeah, I'm fine.
Better than fine.
She's ready.
She's ready? Early labor's fairly common with twins.
- I hope we told you that.
- Well, if you had told me that, I would have been there for breakfast every day.
Well, it's a good thing you were.
There could have been complications, but you got her here just in time.
So, this is happening? In the next few hours.
Ready or not.
In the meantime, try to relax.
(exhales) I'll be back.
Mm-hmm.
Thank you.
Relax? How can anyone relax? Tim.
Sorry.
I can relax.
We can relax.
I brought your comfort kit.
Your comfort kit? From birthing class.
Only that's not my kit, Tim.
Mine's in my car.
Yes, but I got a duplicate in my car.
Look at this.
I brought your favorite comic books, uh, we got your mini fan right here, and, of course, your aromatherapy bear.
Oh, thank you.
Okay, that's too sweet.
Like, seriously, it's, like, too sweet.
Is there anything else you need, Dee? Just tell me right now.
You know what I'd kill for? Huh? Grape soda.
Ice-cold.
Okay.
Wait, wait, wait.
Wait, wait.
I'll go.
Oh, no, no! Please, let Tim go.
Tim knows just the kind I like.
Right, babe? Grape soda.
Ice-cold.
Sit tight.
(Delilah sighs) I love you.
You should've let me go.
He needs to be here.
No, he needs a task when he's nervous.
I can't even drink grape soda right now.
(exhales) I'm not allowed to drink anything while I'm in labor.
You're really good.
Hey, um, you think you could, uh, give me a task, too? 'Cause I'm, like, really nervous.
Yeah, actually.
Could you just feed me ice chips on demand? Okay? And just uh, listen to me when I (shouting) (shouting) I'll make sure the nurses know.
MAN (over P.
A.
): Report to the E.
R.
, please.
(elevator bell dings) Hey, big daddy, what are you doing down here? How's your girl? She's good.
We're, uh we're ready.
Listen, Morgan, thank you so much for all your help.
Well, that's what fellow law enforcement officers do, right? We help.
What about you? What do you need? Is there a soda machine around here? The cafeteria doesn't have grape.
Say no more.
Follow me.
MORGAN: Here you go.
And it even has grape.
What's wrong? McGEE: I don't believe it.
It's him.
It's who? McGEE: It's Yorka.
All right.
Thanks.
That was Baltimore PD.
They're still searching Viktor's apartment, but no red flags yet.
Maybe because he hasn't been there in days.
What do you got? Viktor's credit card shows he booked a room at the Westcott Hotel in Georgetown two days ago and still hasn't checked out.
The Westcott.
That place is huge.
TORRES: Let's get over there.
Count me in.
(phone rings) Hang on, hang on.
I got McGee.
Hey, McGee.
You got us all.
Give me some good news.
Boss, he's here.
What? Who's where? Who's here? What's going on? Hold on, boss.
Morgan, there is a guy against the back wall there.
He's got a dark jacket.
Some kind of leg injury.
I need you to keep an eye on him.
Why? What did he do? Well, it doesn't matter, but if he is who I think he is, he's a very bad guy.
So just keep an eye on him until I can get backup down here.
Roger that.
I'm on it.
All right.
GIBBS: McGee! Uh, sorry, boss.
What bad guy, McGee? Our bad guy.
Sloane's bad guy.
Yorka? Wounded, bleeding, and a dead ringer for the guy on my phone.
We'll get to you soon, huh? MORGAN: Thank you.
It shouldn't be long.
(groans) Hey, uh, sorry for the wait, fella, but it shouldn't be too much longer.
It's too long for me.
Well, look, uh, that leg looks pretty bad.
Let me see if I can jump you ahead in line, huh? Look, just hold on, now.
Just wait a minute! (people gasping) Oh, God.
Drop it! Everybody out! NCIS! You drop it! Stay back! Take it easy.
No one else needs to get hurt.
Everyone gets hurt! You understand me? Patch me up, get me out of here or everybody gets hurt! GIBBS: Bishop, Sloane, you're with me.
Torres, Reeves, hotel room.
Wait, really? REEVES: Hotel? Are you serious? Gibbs, you heard McGee.
Yeah, I did.
And before that, I heard about a guy who might be making a bomb in a hotel room in Georgetown.
Gibbs Hey, if there's nothing going on, then come to the hospital.
Got it? Gibbs Do you got it? Please, just let me help him.
(strained): I'm okay.
No cops.
I want no cops! I can't guarantee that.
You know someone called them the moment you pulled that trigger.
Then drop your gun.
Don't drop it! Shoot him! Shut up! Oh! Let her go! Then drop your gun! Okay, okay.
Look.
Now slide it over.
You want to die right now, old man?! No.
No.
Nobody dies.
No one else is gonna die today, Yorka.
No one else, huh? You know my name.
Look, one thing at a time.
Now, we need to get you patched up.
But, first, you got to let them go.
I don't have to do anything.
(siren approaching) Then let the girl go.
Don't worry about me! (woman screams) Keep your mouth shut, old man! Or else the next bullet goes right here.
No, there's no need for that, okay? Look, we'll-we'll get you help and we'll get you out of here.
I'm hearing a lot of talk.
Doctors! Hello? Is there a doctor here?! We need help! Nice try.
Now go and get a doctor! And don't come back till you have one.
(grunts) No.
What? (sirens approaching) I'm not leaving 'em behind.
I need you to evacuate in an orderly fashion! Quickly, this way, move, move! Everybody back behind the barricades! Hurry! Lieutenant, NCIS.
What do we know? NCIS? Why are you here? We already have a man inside, which is probably why it's so quiet in there.
Unless you know something we don't.
Witnesses say it's one shooter, two or three hostages, and another one trying to talk him down.
That'd be McGee.
Wait, wait.
We got this, Agents.
One punk with a gun is nothing a little shock and awe won't fix.
Wait, wait, shock and awe? This guy's no punk with a gun.
He won't hesitate to take others down the moment he feels threatened.
So you know him? I know he's an international felon, and I know he will leave scorched earth in his wake.
Got it? Do you want to fight me for jurisdiction on this? All yours then.
We got your back.
Pleasure.
Stand down and stand by for further orders.
Back behind the barricades! Hurry up! You got to work with me here, Andre.
You know we're not gonna have much luck getting a doctor unless you put that gun away.
Then I suggest you try harder.
Okay.
(groans) Please, let me go.
Shut up, you stupid cow! Now then, I appreciate you playing hero, my friend, but it will end badly.
I promise you that! (quietly): Did you hear that? Time to put the weapons away.
I wasn't kidding when I said as soon as Yorka feels outgunned, he'll start shooting.
Believe me.
So we just walk in unarmed? No.
Andre needs to feel like he's in control.
We got to try to win him over.
Bishop, go back around through the treatment room.
Come out the other side.
Sloane, go with her.
Stay out of sight.
Why? You think I can't control the urge to punch him in the face? Well, yes.
Right now, it's more important you listen and advise than show all our cards up front.
Right.
I keep forgetting you're really good at what you do.
GIBBS: Don't shoot me.
How's it going, McGee? Living a dream, boss.
(door closes) Hey, McGee.
Hey.
YORKA: Unless you're both doctors, I don't recall inviting either of you.
No, we're not doctors.
Unarmed.
Here to help.
McGEE: And the chances of you getting what you need just got a whole lot better.
- Especially if you let me help him.
- Not yet.
First, we search.
You, get back.
Get back! (whimpers) Anyone moves she dies.
First her.
Look.
Look in the pockets in the back! Unarmed.
Indeed.
Now, boss man, over here.
You, move.
Now him.
Him! Go! Look.
Pocket in the back, look.
(gun clatters) Keep searching.
Impressive.
Now the ankles.
(Morgan groaning) (grunting) Go.
Oh, he got me good.
YORKA: Get up! Now then who are you, really? GIBBS: NCIS.
Gibbs and Bishop.
We know what happened this morning with MI5.
In which case, you know nothing.
Maybe.
So, you'll let these two go in exchange for us? Sounds like a fair trade, right? I'll decide what's fair, Blondie.
No one leaves here until this bullet is out of my leg and I have a secure transport out of the country.
That first part I can guarantee you.
The second part-- the transport out-- it's gonna take some time.
Then I suggest you try (phone rings) (groans) How far would McGee go to get you a grape soda? For me? The ends of the earth.
And whatever that red light is it's been blinking a while.
And that can't be good.
(man speaking over bullhorn) Um I'm sure that's nothing.
And-and Tim-- wherever he is-- I'm sure he's fine.
Totally fine.
You know? Mm-hmm.
But I'm just gonna I'm gonna go check.
Hmm.
Let him go, fella.
He's got two babies coming upstairs.
Is that right? Two babies? (groans) GIBBS: McGee.
What's he talking about? I don't know, boss.
Uh, the guy's delirious, he's losing blood.
Enough! That makes you much more valuable, hero.
The new daddy will never meet his babies unless my demands are met immediately! A doctor.
Now! Look, I'm flying solo back there with two critical patients I'm trying to get out of here.
Okay, well, where are all the other doctors? The shooting started, they ran out with the patients.
I mean, the cops have this entire wing sealed off, so getting in and out is impossible.
- Let me see what I can do.
- Thanks, Doctor.
Yeah.
(phone vibrates) Hold on.
Hey, Abbs, what's up? Have you heard from McGee? He's not answering his phone and the hospital won't let me go look for him.
It's some kind of emergency or something.
Yeah, we know, and actually, McGee is here in the E.
R.
with us.
Us? W-What are you doing in the E.
R.
? We need a doctor, Abbs.
Oh, it's trouble? I knew it.
Is it McGee? How bad is it? SLOANE: It's hard to explain.
Look.
Okay, this is way worse than I imagined.
Yeah.
We'll have them out soon.
Hey, how's Delilah doing? Delilah is in labor! Like, major, major labor.
What am I supposed to tell her? Honestly, why tell her anything right now? (phone beeps) That's Torres calling, Abbs.
Send a doctor if you can.
Got to go.
Bye.
Hey, Nick, what's up? Why is Gibbs not answering his phone? SLOANE: He's a little busy right now.
Why, did you find something in the hotel? You name it, we found it.
Both men were definitely here.
And, uh, one of 'em had company.
Along with bomb plans, parts, and a train schedule.
A train schedule? REEVES: We've got Metro and Homeland on high alert, but until we figure out if the train or the actual station is the target, nothing gets shut down.
Any chance the train was just their-their way of getting around? Well, either way, you can add âterroristâ to Yorka's résumé.
I'm not so sure, Nick; terrorists are driven by their beliefs.
Yorka only believes in himself.
He is spiteful and petty.
It has to be something more personal than that.
Personal, as in a particular person riding one of those trains? SLOANE: Find out who that is, you guys.
It might narrow down your search.
I don't suppose you could persuade Yorka to tell us where to look? Yeah, well, I'd say we're a long way from that.
Got to go.
But if it's time to turn up the heat, we might as well try.
You good to go? Yeah, I'm good.
Good.
I got you.
Okay.
Where the hell's my doctor? Where the hell's your bomb? What? What? Our agents found bomb plans and a train schedule at your hotel room.
My hotel room? Bishop, are you nuts? You're just gonna admit all that right in front of this guy? Lose every bit of leverage we did have? SLOANE (quietly): I knew you'd get it.
Okay, I'm sorry, Gibbs.
You're sorry?! Geez.
Women.
They do like to talk, don't they? Attaboy, Gibbs.
You got us over a barrel, Andre.
Then get me a damn doctor.
We will.
Soon.
Soon as you tell us where the bomb is.
Again, you have it backward.
Nothing happens until I'm patched up and out of here.
And, as you now know the clock is ticking.
So go! Hey! All good.
McGee's just pacing around down there.
Sure he'll be up here really soon.
Oh.
Well, I won't hold my breath.
(chuckles) But nice try, though.
ABBY: Um Um he's not all that involved, so Just right in the middle of it? Like, directly, right in the middle of it, yes.
That's what I was afrai Ow! Ow.
(pants, exhales) Ooh! Ow.
What do you mean you can't get a doctor in here? Don't tell me to sit tight, you try harder.
âSit tightâ" Hey, Gibbs.
Could it be that hard? You can pull this off.
I'd sure enjoy the hell out of trying.
Don't enjoy it too much.
Shot of morphine'd do the trick.
They don't leave that lying around here, do they? No, they don't.
Ah.
But enough ketamine will make him pretty sleepy.
Yeah, great.
Go, Doc.
Get suited up.
Nothing to tell us where it is.
Any luck? Nothing to do with bombs or trains, but this is fairly interesting.
You hacked Viktor? Was there ever a doubt? In his business folder, there is an order for frozen Maryland crab cakes placed by the International Coalition for Peace.
Ugh.
Who would eat frozen crab cakes? Anyway, I looked up this group, and it's a consortium of dignitaries from all over the world-- France, Belgium, Romania, Croatia, Italy.
Wait, hold on-- Romania.
Didn't Romania freeze Yorka's assets last year? Sloane said it was personal.
Where were these crab cakes going? REEVES: Here it is.
Delivery invoice.
Scheduled for this morning.
They delivered this morning? 3:30 a.
m.
for a pre-Thanksgiving brunch hosted in the main ballroom of the Westcott Hotel.
- Reeves, that's here.
- And brunch starts in five minutes.
I'm calling Homeland.
I'll call hotel security.
MORGAN: I'm sorry, kid.
I'm really sorry.
Morgan, don't be sorry.
Just hang on, okay? We're gonna get you out of here.
One way or another.
All right, found you a doctor.
YORKA: Finally.
What took so long, sweetie? Powdering your nose? Something like that.
Hey, she's here to save your sorry ass.
Let everyone else go.
Stop telling me what to do.
McGEE: Look, just let Morgan go, okay? He's bleeding out.
Stop telling me what to do! Now, I've waited long enough! Let's get on with it! Security's meeting us down there.
Well, at least you got a person.
All I get from Homeland was a recording.
(phone chimes) Oh, great.
Now Metro PD sends the crime scene surveillance? A little late for that.
Is it? Seriously? There could a bomb downstairs and you're worried about a crime scene? You're right.
Let's just stand here, waiting for the lift to open, patiently, shall we? Here.
Watch it.
All right, see? He kills Ford.
Then he turns around.
And bang, he kills Viktor.
See that? Blood trail.
No surprises.
REEVES: Getaway car is actually a van from Viktor's food company.
Wait a minute.
There's a third person.
What? Yorka had a driver.
No.
No? It's just a local, sir.
No, no painkillers.
No tricks.
It's gonna hurt like hell.
Pain I can handle.
Don't worry.
We'll see about that.
Excuse me? We'll see what's going on after I cut your pant leg open.
Ooh.
(inhales sharply) Wow.
Oh, you new at this, Doctor? With a gun pointed at my head, yeah.
Oh.
(Yorka groans) I wouldn't if I were you.
You didn't think I'd come here alone, did you? (Yorka groaning) Damn it.
Easy.
Scissors could be sharper.
I could look for better ones.
No, it's okay.
NICOLE: Hurry up, would you? I never signed up for this, Andre.
I know, my pet, but here we are.
(groans) (groans, whimpers) He'll get here, Delilah, you know he will.
What if he doesn't? McGee's been through way worse than this.
He will be here.
Just just hang on.
Oh, I can hang on.
It's these two I'm not so sure abou-- ow! (groaning): Ow, ow! (growls) (Yorka growling) (groans) Maybe it would be easier if we just took your pants off.
You're not taking my pants off.
I'm a doctor.
I've seen them all.
Just keep cutting.
We've all got our shortcomings, don't we? What did you say? Nothing.
No shortcomings here, believe me! Now just keep cutting! SLOANE: Okay.
(groans) All right.
McGee, get him out of here.
Okay, come on, let's go, come on.
No.
No! Just let him go, Andre.
All right, legs up.
Come on, let's get you out of here.
We have to get out of here! (groaning): You be quiet.
Bishop, you, too, go.
No, Gibbs, I'm good.
(Yorka groans) (Sloane grunts) (Yorka groans) Ooh.
That's not so good.
Just get it out of there.
Bishop, Yorka had a second accomplice.
Call me back.
NCIS, hey.
Dave Barbado, hotel security.
Rest of my team should be here shortly.
Shortly? We don't have shortly.
Where is Romania sitting? Romania? Guys, take it easy.
There's no bomb.
And how do you know that? With this guest list? Homeland had a team comb this place this morning.
Well, don't mind if we check ourselves.
Hang in there, Morgan.
Hello! Help, Doctor.
I need help, Doctor, please.
He's been shot.
Sir.
Here, look at me.
Can you hear me? Yeah, yeah.
McGEE: He lost a lot of blood.
Okay.
Uh, just stay with him for a minute.
I'll be back with more hands.
Everyone okay? You get him? We got him, Morgan, we got him.
MORGAN: Yeah.
All of us.
You everything you got going on, you never left me.
Thank you.
Anything for a fellow law enforcement officer.
(laughs) Y-You go now you be a great daddy.
I will.
And, Morgan, thank you.
Morgan? Morgan.
(screaming) Sure I can't give you something for the pain? (Yorka groaning) No.
Just hurry! Get it out.
Ow! Ow! You got this, okay? You can do it.
I-It's all, it's all about your babies now.
Damn straight it is.
DELILAH: Tim, hi.
Hey, hey, I'm here.
Hi.
Hey, baby.
Okay.
I hear it's time to push.
Oh, it's way past time.
(inhales) Ooh, let's go.
(exhales, cries) Excuse me.
Sorry, sorry.
Gentlemen, I'm so sorry.
Excuse me, excuse me.
Guys, come on.
There's no bomb.
Eh, there's-there's no bomb, folks! Knock yourselves out, guys.
This is on you.
This entire room has been triple checked.
The entire room? Just this room? TORRES: What about the kitchen? Ho-ho-hold it, hold it, hold it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy.
If there is something, let's be a little bit more gentler, shall we? All right, well, there's nothing here.
There's nothing under mine.
(beeping) - Out! Out! Everybody out! - Everybody out! Get out! Ladies and gentlemen, the exit's to the south.
Please move to the exits.
Get out of the room! Stay calm.
REEVES: Out! Out! Everybody out! Out! Evacuate! (groans, screams) Keep it up, Dee, you're doing great.
Give us another big push.
(Delilah groans, screams) (Yorka groaning) (Yorka screaming) (gasps) SLOANE: (grunts) Ah.
Got it.
(Yorka groans) That is a bomb, right? Well, it's got to be.
That's a brick of C-4, or clay, maybe.
Clay? Why would it be clay? Who sticks wires and a motor in clay? I don't know.
Then it's C-4, but shouldn't there be a timer? There's always a timer in the movies.
There's no timer, but it's definitely ticking.
REEVES: It's absolutely ticking.
So what now? I don't know.
Call the bomb squad? What if there's no time? How would you know if there's no timer? Well, good point, but what now? We cut the wires? Okay, well, there's a red one and a yellow one.
Which one do they cut in the movies? This is not a movie.
Yellow.
Always yellow.
Okay.
No, wait.
What? Wait-- no.
You know what? Red.
Definitely red.
Okay.
Yeah.
Maybe.
How about both? And then we run like hell.
I like that plan.
Okay.
Wait.
What? The ticking's getting louder.
And faster.
Do it.
(powering down) You know, you can put that away now.
Why would I do that? We still have my transport to discuss.
Our transport.
Yes, baby, our transport, of course.
(phone rings) Well, there's your transport, right there.
Answer it.
(phone beeps) Yeah, Torres.
TORRES: We got the bomb, Gibbs.
And we shut it right down.
GIBBS: (laughs) That right? Yeah, man.
Just like in the movies.
Ooh, you'd be so proud.
Is what right? What did they say? Your bomb is a goner.
Andre, we don't need you anymore.
What? He said you're finished.
(Yorka screams) Andre! (Sloane yelling) GIBBS: You got him.
You got him.
You got him.
Whoa.
That man, that man you killed? Hey, hey.
He was a good man! Sloane.
He was a he was my friend.
(coughs) He was my friend.
They're perfect, Dee.
They're perfect.
I still can't believe it.
Hey.
So, the news says it's over.
We got the bad guys.
Oh, thank God.
Anyone else hurt? Nope.
Not that I know of.
So I'm gonna, um, go down.
Uh, do you want a grape soda? And can I send the gang up? No to the soda.
Yes to the gang, if they're up for it.
ABBY: This is only, like, the best Thanksgiving ever.
(chuckles) Just saying.
Hey, little buddy.
Hey, it's Mommy.
I guess it's name time.
Yeah, I've been rethinking those, uh, Star Wars names.
Mm.
How about John? After your dad.
John McGee.
Johnny, meet your sister.
Your sister.
Your sister? We got it narrowed down to six.
Can I add a seventh? Oh, seriously? How do you feel about - What? - Morgan? Morgan McGee? Mmm.
Johnny and Morgan.
Yeah.
Yeah, that sounds right.
Hi.
That's a pretty picture.
(smooth jazz playing over radio) (sniffs, scoffs) Three dollars for a paper cup of burnt mud? Only in America.
Do forgive my English.
In what language should I repeat that? Or perhaps I could speak more slowly.
No, it's cool, mister.
I got it.
Let me make you a fresh pot.
(ringtone plays) Hey.
How long has your phone been on? Just half hour or so.
What did I tell you? Oh, relax, Andre, would you? No phones until the job is done.
Job is done and it's my mother from Kiev.
What son doesn't answer his mother's calls, huh? Just make it quick.
You worry too much.
(dog barking in distance) Hello, Andre.
Well done, MI5.
Uh, Mr.
Ford, is it? Congratulations.
You found me.
Blasted thing gets the spottiest reception in the States, but the tracking feature turned out to be quite remarkable.
- Leaves me with one question.
- Hmm? Did I find you in time? In time for what exactly? All right.
Let's make it two questions.
My answer to the first is you are far too late.
And the second? (both groan) (groans) Oh, no.
Is this because of me? (groans) (gasps) (van door closes, engine starts) (tires squealing) (line ringing) SLOANE: Hello? (gasping) Hey, Ford? Nigel? Are you there? Hello? NCIS 15x09 Ready or Not Put me down for some of them sweet potatoes.
BISHOP: Abby already called sweet potatoes, but we still need cranberries and REEVES: Cranberries.
I'll bring those.
- Okay.
- No one wants me cooking.
How many tins you think we'll need? TORRES: âTinsâ? You mean cranberries in cans? Some people actually prefer them.
This is my first Thanksgiving, Nick.
Well, don't make it your last.
Bring as many âtinsâ as you want.
I have a cranberry recipe.
We'll compare.
Hey, McGee, what about you and Delilah? You guys coming to Ducky's potluck tomorrow? Oh, we may have to take a rain check on that one.
Is Delilah feeling okay? McGEE: Oh, way better than me.
No, I've been up all night building a second easy-to-assemble crib.
Got three pieces left over-- Flurgendoofs, I think they call them.
I don't know what to do with them.
I still don't understand how it's medically possible for you two to not have known you were having twins.
McGEE: The shrapnel in Delilah's spine made it so that a regular ultrasound is impossible and the babies' heartbeats are so close together in rhythm, doctors just missed it.
It's crazy.
Yeah, what's even crazier is that we now have to come up with two babies' names.
Nick McGee.
Ooh.
Has a nice ring to it.
McGEE: No, no, no.
For the, for the boy, we've got it narrowed down to Indiana, Han, Harrison.
REEVES: Oh, gosh.
Poor kid.
Han McGee.
Yeah, and for the girl BISHOP: Let me guess.
Leia? No.
No Leias.
No Ellies, no Abbys.
We've narrowed it down to six names for the girl and they are Ah, save it for later, McGee.
Saved by the bell.
Dead MI5 officer in Old Town.
MI5? Friend of Sloane's.
(siren wailing) You know what happened? (helicopter whirring) What? Hey.
No.
He called me right before, uh, he, uh The store owner's the only the only, uh, witness, apparently.
I'll check the security footage.
REEVES: Is that Nigel Ford? You knew him? Somewhat of a legend at our training academy.
Cool bloke, great officer.
We all wanted to be him.
Yeah.
You worked with him? Special joint operation two years ago.
Reconnected when he got into town last week, so REEVES: Last I heard, he was chasing some international arms dealer.
Andre Yorka.
That's the name.
SLOANE: That was our case.
Nigel tracked him all the way back here after he snuck in on a fake visa.
I was supposed to deliver my old files to him tonight.
Try to figure out what old Andre was up to.
But what was old Andre up to, Jack? Well, nothing good.
That's pretty clear right now, isn't it? Hey, uh, is this your arms dealer over here? No.
I don't know who that is.
I have Yorka's picture back at my office.
Might have one here.
Clerk I.
D.
'd this man as the shooter.
That's him.
That's Yorka.
Fingerprint came back.
Second victim is Viktor Lopuchin, 42, Baltimore resident, currently employed in commercial food delivery.
Cops said he was unarmed.
REEVES: Innocent bystander, maybe? TORRES: And this may be Yorka.
Or at least his blood.
Trail ends around here.
Burnt rubber points to a fast getaway.
Get a BOLO out on Yorka.
Armed, wounded, dangerous.
Abby, can I call you back? ABBY: No, you can't.
I mean, everything's fine and there's no reason to panic.
(engine revving) Well, why do you sound panicky? (exhales) My water broke, Tim.
Delilah? ABBY: I-I just, I went over to your place for breakfast and it just happened.
Uh, uh, are-are you okay? Is she okay? I'm okay.
She's okay.
She-she's just, she's breathing really hard.
How did this happen? I mean, you're not due for another three weeks.
Well, apparently, the babies had other plans, darling.
Just meet us at the hospital.
Wait.
Wait, Abbs.
GIBBS: McGee.
Go.
Go! Excuse me, an emergency.
(siren wailing) Excuse me, very urgent.
Oh, no.
Uh, excuse me, excuse me.
Has-has my wife come through here yet? We're having a baby-- two of 'em.
Special Agent McGee, follow me.
A little VIP treatment for a fellow law enforcement officer.
Morgan Cade, retired park police.
Took this job last year after my wife died.
Pretty short on excitement, so when the goth girl wheeled your wife into my E.
R.
, (clicks tongue) I got ready for action.
Twins, huh? Son, your life's about to change forever.
(elevator bell dings) (indistinct radio chatter) MORGAN: Here's your man.
(sighing): Oh, McGee.
Thank you, Morgan.
Where is she? Um, she's okay, I think.
The doctor's working on her now.
W-W-Working on her how? You would be Tim? Where's my wife? Can I see her? She's with Dr.
Serena now.
Just a routine exam.
No need to be concerned.
Well, then let me see her.
NURSE: In just a few minutes.
I promise you, she's in good hands.
Make that very good hands.
I've seen some amazing things at this hospital, so you let the doctors do what they got to do and I can promise you it'll all work out for the best.
(baby cries) (baby coos) Officer Nigel Ford, 42 years old.
Royal Air Force, Scotland Yard.
Joined MI5 in 2010 as a covert operative assigned to monitor global threats.
Monitor what exactly? BISHOP: Andre Yorka, 38.
Dishonorably discharged from the Serbian Army in '06; ran with the National Alignment hate group a few years, before his late father got him into the munitions trade.
Now, Yorka fancies himself a master dealmaker, but he has made far more enemies than allies over the years.
Shady business practices got him banned from several countries, and most recently, Romania, which froze his assets just last year.
REEVES: Bad things always seem to happen when this guy pops up.
MI5's been trying to nail him for years, always manages to skate free.
He hires local talent and leaves them behind to take the fall.
Like our innocent bystander at the store.
He's not so innocent after all.
Before immigrating to the U.
S.
, Viktor Lopuchin had ties to Vory v Zakone, the Russian mob.
His record's been clean in the U.
S.
since he started a-a food delivery business in Baltimore.
Old habits die hard.
If Yorka hires local talent BISHOP: What did he hire Viktor to do? All right.
Keep digging on both.
Any surveillance from the shooting? Metro's sending it over.
I'll call and have them hurry.
What about Sloane? Anybody seen Sloane? What? She's down in Autopsy.
JIMMY: I appreciate the assist, Doctor.
Stuffing the turkey can wait.
We have more pressing matters.
Once MI5 asked to have both bodies examined, I suddenly found myself shorthanded.
Should we divide and conquer? JIMMY (quietly): No, let's, uh let's both start here.
At least until SLOANE: Hey, Jimmy, just let me know when you need me to get out of here, okay? He meant a lot to you.
Mm-hmm.
JIMMY: Was he? I mean, were you two? (laughs) Occasionally.
Uh, no, he was a he was a really good friend.
Shoot, I forgot to tell him that.
I forgot to thank him.
I believe you just did.
I swear to God, if Yorka did this, I would give anything to kick his ass.
Put me in a front-row seat.
Gibbs, he is a racist, misogynistic creep, and when we do find him, I swear I am going to Okay.
I got it, I got it.
I got it.
We'll see what we can do.
Duck.
We just put him on the table, Jethro.
Perhaps in an hour What are you doing? What's that smell? That smell, what is that? Is that (sniffing) gasoline? That gun powder? Plastique.
Like Semtex? C-4? Uh-huh.
Dr.
Sloane, if plastic explosives are involved, your friend's killer may deserve more than a kick in the ass.
Delilah, honey, are you okay? Babe, you made it.
Yeah, I'm fine.
Better than fine.
She's ready.
She's ready? Early labor's fairly common with twins.
- I hope we told you that.
- Well, if you had told me that, I would have been there for breakfast every day.
Well, it's a good thing you were.
There could have been complications, but you got her here just in time.
So, this is happening? In the next few hours.
Ready or not.
In the meantime, try to relax.
(exhales) I'll be back.
Mm-hmm.
Thank you.
Relax? How can anyone relax? Tim.
Sorry.
I can relax.
We can relax.
I brought your comfort kit.
Your comfort kit? From birthing class.
Only that's not my kit, Tim.
Mine's in my car.
Yes, but I got a duplicate in my car.
Look at this.
I brought your favorite comic books, uh, we got your mini fan right here, and, of course, your aromatherapy bear.
Oh, thank you.
Okay, that's too sweet.
Like, seriously, it's, like, too sweet.
Is there anything else you need, Dee? Just tell me right now.
You know what I'd kill for? Huh? Grape soda.
Ice-cold.
Okay.
Wait, wait, wait.
Wait, wait.
I'll go.
Oh, no, no! Please, let Tim go.
Tim knows just the kind I like.
Right, babe? Grape soda.
Ice-cold.
Sit tight.
(Delilah sighs) I love you.
You should've let me go.
He needs to be here.
No, he needs a task when he's nervous.
I can't even drink grape soda right now.
(exhales) I'm not allowed to drink anything while I'm in labor.
You're really good.
Hey, um, you think you could, uh, give me a task, too? 'Cause I'm, like, really nervous.
Yeah, actually.
Could you just feed me ice chips on demand? Okay? And just uh, listen to me when I (shouting) (shouting) I'll make sure the nurses know.
MAN (over P.
A.
): Report to the E.
R.
, please.
(elevator bell dings) Hey, big daddy, what are you doing down here? How's your girl? She's good.
We're, uh we're ready.
Listen, Morgan, thank you so much for all your help.
Well, that's what fellow law enforcement officers do, right? We help.
What about you? What do you need? Is there a soda machine around here? The cafeteria doesn't have grape.
Say no more.
Follow me.
MORGAN: Here you go.
And it even has grape.
What's wrong? McGEE: I don't believe it.
It's him.
It's who? McGEE: It's Yorka.
All right.
Thanks.
That was Baltimore PD.
They're still searching Viktor's apartment, but no red flags yet.
Maybe because he hasn't been there in days.
What do you got? Viktor's credit card shows he booked a room at the Westcott Hotel in Georgetown two days ago and still hasn't checked out.
The Westcott.
That place is huge.
TORRES: Let's get over there.
Count me in.
(phone rings) Hang on, hang on.
I got McGee.
Hey, McGee.
You got us all.
Give me some good news.
Boss, he's here.
What? Who's where? Who's here? What's going on? Hold on, boss.
Morgan, there is a guy against the back wall there.
He's got a dark jacket.
Some kind of leg injury.
I need you to keep an eye on him.
Why? What did he do? Well, it doesn't matter, but if he is who I think he is, he's a very bad guy.
So just keep an eye on him until I can get backup down here.
Roger that.
I'm on it.
All right.
GIBBS: McGee! Uh, sorry, boss.
What bad guy, McGee? Our bad guy.
Sloane's bad guy.
Yorka? Wounded, bleeding, and a dead ringer for the guy on my phone.
We'll get to you soon, huh? MORGAN: Thank you.
It shouldn't be long.
(groans) Hey, uh, sorry for the wait, fella, but it shouldn't be too much longer.
It's too long for me.
Well, look, uh, that leg looks pretty bad.
Let me see if I can jump you ahead in line, huh? Look, just hold on, now.
Just wait a minute! (people gasping) Oh, God.
Drop it! Everybody out! NCIS! You drop it! Stay back! Take it easy.
No one else needs to get hurt.
Everyone gets hurt! You understand me? Patch me up, get me out of here or everybody gets hurt! GIBBS: Bishop, Sloane, you're with me.
Torres, Reeves, hotel room.
Wait, really? REEVES: Hotel? Are you serious? Gibbs, you heard McGee.
Yeah, I did.
And before that, I heard about a guy who might be making a bomb in a hotel room in Georgetown.
Gibbs Hey, if there's nothing going on, then come to the hospital.
Got it? Gibbs Do you got it? Please, just let me help him.
(strained): I'm okay.
No cops.
I want no cops! I can't guarantee that.
You know someone called them the moment you pulled that trigger.
Then drop your gun.
Don't drop it! Shoot him! Shut up! Oh! Let her go! Then drop your gun! Okay, okay.
Look.
Now slide it over.
You want to die right now, old man?! No.
No.
Nobody dies.
No one else is gonna die today, Yorka.
No one else, huh? You know my name.
Look, one thing at a time.
Now, we need to get you patched up.
But, first, you got to let them go.
I don't have to do anything.
(siren approaching) Then let the girl go.
Don't worry about me! (woman screams) Keep your mouth shut, old man! Or else the next bullet goes right here.
No, there's no need for that, okay? Look, we'll-we'll get you help and we'll get you out of here.
I'm hearing a lot of talk.
Doctors! Hello? Is there a doctor here?! We need help! Nice try.
Now go and get a doctor! And don't come back till you have one.
(grunts) No.
What? (sirens approaching) I'm not leaving 'em behind.
I need you to evacuate in an orderly fashion! Quickly, this way, move, move! Everybody back behind the barricades! Hurry! Lieutenant, NCIS.
What do we know? NCIS? Why are you here? We already have a man inside, which is probably why it's so quiet in there.
Unless you know something we don't.
Witnesses say it's one shooter, two or three hostages, and another one trying to talk him down.
That'd be McGee.
Wait, wait.
We got this, Agents.
One punk with a gun is nothing a little shock and awe won't fix.
Wait, wait, shock and awe? This guy's no punk with a gun.
He won't hesitate to take others down the moment he feels threatened.
So you know him? I know he's an international felon, and I know he will leave scorched earth in his wake.
Got it? Do you want to fight me for jurisdiction on this? All yours then.
We got your back.
Pleasure.
Stand down and stand by for further orders.
Back behind the barricades! Hurry up! You got to work with me here, Andre.
You know we're not gonna have much luck getting a doctor unless you put that gun away.
Then I suggest you try harder.
Okay.
(groans) Please, let me go.
Shut up, you stupid cow! Now then, I appreciate you playing hero, my friend, but it will end badly.
I promise you that! (quietly): Did you hear that? Time to put the weapons away.
I wasn't kidding when I said as soon as Yorka feels outgunned, he'll start shooting.
Believe me.
So we just walk in unarmed? No.
Andre needs to feel like he's in control.
We got to try to win him over.
Bishop, go back around through the treatment room.
Come out the other side.
Sloane, go with her.
Stay out of sight.
Why? You think I can't control the urge to punch him in the face? Well, yes.
Right now, it's more important you listen and advise than show all our cards up front.
Right.
I keep forgetting you're really good at what you do.
GIBBS: Don't shoot me.
How's it going, McGee? Living a dream, boss.
(door closes) Hey, McGee.
Hey.
YORKA: Unless you're both doctors, I don't recall inviting either of you.
No, we're not doctors.
Unarmed.
Here to help.
McGEE: And the chances of you getting what you need just got a whole lot better.
- Especially if you let me help him.
- Not yet.
First, we search.
You, get back.
Get back! (whimpers) Anyone moves she dies.
First her.
Look.
Look in the pockets in the back! Unarmed.
Indeed.
Now, boss man, over here.
You, move.
Now him.
Him! Go! Look.
Pocket in the back, look.
(gun clatters) Keep searching.
Impressive.
Now the ankles.
(Morgan groaning) (grunting) Go.
Oh, he got me good.
YORKA: Get up! Now then who are you, really? GIBBS: NCIS.
Gibbs and Bishop.
We know what happened this morning with MI5.
In which case, you know nothing.
Maybe.
So, you'll let these two go in exchange for us? Sounds like a fair trade, right? I'll decide what's fair, Blondie.
No one leaves here until this bullet is out of my leg and I have a secure transport out of the country.
That first part I can guarantee you.
The second part-- the transport out-- it's gonna take some time.
Then I suggest you try (phone rings) (groans) How far would McGee go to get you a grape soda? For me? The ends of the earth.
And whatever that red light is it's been blinking a while.
And that can't be good.
(man speaking over bullhorn) Um I'm sure that's nothing.
And-and Tim-- wherever he is-- I'm sure he's fine.
Totally fine.
You know? Mm-hmm.
But I'm just gonna I'm gonna go check.
Hmm.
Let him go, fella.
He's got two babies coming upstairs.
Is that right? Two babies? (groans) GIBBS: McGee.
What's he talking about? I don't know, boss.
Uh, the guy's delirious, he's losing blood.
Enough! That makes you much more valuable, hero.
The new daddy will never meet his babies unless my demands are met immediately! A doctor.
Now! Look, I'm flying solo back there with two critical patients I'm trying to get out of here.
Okay, well, where are all the other doctors? The shooting started, they ran out with the patients.
I mean, the cops have this entire wing sealed off, so getting in and out is impossible.
- Let me see what I can do.
- Thanks, Doctor.
Yeah.
(phone vibrates) Hold on.
Hey, Abbs, what's up? Have you heard from McGee? He's not answering his phone and the hospital won't let me go look for him.
It's some kind of emergency or something.
Yeah, we know, and actually, McGee is here in the E.
R.
with us.
Us? W-What are you doing in the E.
R.
? We need a doctor, Abbs.
Oh, it's trouble? I knew it.
Is it McGee? How bad is it? SLOANE: It's hard to explain.
Look.
Okay, this is way worse than I imagined.
Yeah.
We'll have them out soon.
Hey, how's Delilah doing? Delilah is in labor! Like, major, major labor.
What am I supposed to tell her? Honestly, why tell her anything right now? (phone beeps) That's Torres calling, Abbs.
Send a doctor if you can.
Got to go.
Bye.
Hey, Nick, what's up? Why is Gibbs not answering his phone? SLOANE: He's a little busy right now.
Why, did you find something in the hotel? You name it, we found it.
Both men were definitely here.
And, uh, one of 'em had company.
Along with bomb plans, parts, and a train schedule.
A train schedule? REEVES: We've got Metro and Homeland on high alert, but until we figure out if the train or the actual station is the target, nothing gets shut down.
Any chance the train was just their-their way of getting around? Well, either way, you can add âterroristâ to Yorka's résumé.
I'm not so sure, Nick; terrorists are driven by their beliefs.
Yorka only believes in himself.
He is spiteful and petty.
It has to be something more personal than that.
Personal, as in a particular person riding one of those trains? SLOANE: Find out who that is, you guys.
It might narrow down your search.
I don't suppose you could persuade Yorka to tell us where to look? Yeah, well, I'd say we're a long way from that.
Got to go.
But if it's time to turn up the heat, we might as well try.
You good to go? Yeah, I'm good.
Good.
I got you.
Okay.
Where the hell's my doctor? Where the hell's your bomb? What? What? Our agents found bomb plans and a train schedule at your hotel room.
My hotel room? Bishop, are you nuts? You're just gonna admit all that right in front of this guy? Lose every bit of leverage we did have? SLOANE (quietly): I knew you'd get it.
Okay, I'm sorry, Gibbs.
You're sorry?! Geez.
Women.
They do like to talk, don't they? Attaboy, Gibbs.
You got us over a barrel, Andre.
Then get me a damn doctor.
We will.
Soon.
Soon as you tell us where the bomb is.
Again, you have it backward.
Nothing happens until I'm patched up and out of here.
And, as you now know the clock is ticking.
So go! Hey! All good.
McGee's just pacing around down there.
Sure he'll be up here really soon.
Oh.
Well, I won't hold my breath.
(chuckles) But nice try, though.
ABBY: Um Um he's not all that involved, so Just right in the middle of it? Like, directly, right in the middle of it, yes.
That's what I was afrai Ow! Ow.
(pants, exhales) Ooh! Ow.
What do you mean you can't get a doctor in here? Don't tell me to sit tight, you try harder.
âSit tightâ" Hey, Gibbs.
Could it be that hard? You can pull this off.
I'd sure enjoy the hell out of trying.
Don't enjoy it too much.
Shot of morphine'd do the trick.
They don't leave that lying around here, do they? No, they don't.
Ah.
But enough ketamine will make him pretty sleepy.
Yeah, great.
Go, Doc.
Get suited up.
Nothing to tell us where it is.
Any luck? Nothing to do with bombs or trains, but this is fairly interesting.
You hacked Viktor? Was there ever a doubt? In his business folder, there is an order for frozen Maryland crab cakes placed by the International Coalition for Peace.
Ugh.
Who would eat frozen crab cakes? Anyway, I looked up this group, and it's a consortium of dignitaries from all over the world-- France, Belgium, Romania, Croatia, Italy.
Wait, hold on-- Romania.
Didn't Romania freeze Yorka's assets last year? Sloane said it was personal.
Where were these crab cakes going? REEVES: Here it is.
Delivery invoice.
Scheduled for this morning.
They delivered this morning? 3:30 a.
m.
for a pre-Thanksgiving brunch hosted in the main ballroom of the Westcott Hotel.
- Reeves, that's here.
- And brunch starts in five minutes.
I'm calling Homeland.
I'll call hotel security.
MORGAN: I'm sorry, kid.
I'm really sorry.
Morgan, don't be sorry.
Just hang on, okay? We're gonna get you out of here.
One way or another.
All right, found you a doctor.
YORKA: Finally.
What took so long, sweetie? Powdering your nose? Something like that.
Hey, she's here to save your sorry ass.
Let everyone else go.
Stop telling me what to do.
McGEE: Look, just let Morgan go, okay? He's bleeding out.
Stop telling me what to do! Now, I've waited long enough! Let's get on with it! Security's meeting us down there.
Well, at least you got a person.
All I get from Homeland was a recording.
(phone chimes) Oh, great.
Now Metro PD sends the crime scene surveillance? A little late for that.
Is it? Seriously? There could a bomb downstairs and you're worried about a crime scene? You're right.
Let's just stand here, waiting for the lift to open, patiently, shall we? Here.
Watch it.
All right, see? He kills Ford.
Then he turns around.
And bang, he kills Viktor.
See that? Blood trail.
No surprises.
REEVES: Getaway car is actually a van from Viktor's food company.
Wait a minute.
There's a third person.
What? Yorka had a driver.
No.
No? It's just a local, sir.
No, no painkillers.
No tricks.
It's gonna hurt like hell.
Pain I can handle.
Don't worry.
We'll see about that.
Excuse me? We'll see what's going on after I cut your pant leg open.
Ooh.
(inhales sharply) Wow.
Oh, you new at this, Doctor? With a gun pointed at my head, yeah.
Oh.
(Yorka groans) I wouldn't if I were you.
You didn't think I'd come here alone, did you? (Yorka groaning) Damn it.
Easy.
Scissors could be sharper.
I could look for better ones.
No, it's okay.
NICOLE: Hurry up, would you? I never signed up for this, Andre.
I know, my pet, but here we are.
(groans) (groans, whimpers) He'll get here, Delilah, you know he will.
What if he doesn't? McGee's been through way worse than this.
He will be here.
Just just hang on.
Oh, I can hang on.
It's these two I'm not so sure abou-- ow! (groaning): Ow, ow! (growls) (Yorka growling) (groans) Maybe it would be easier if we just took your pants off.
You're not taking my pants off.
I'm a doctor.
I've seen them all.
Just keep cutting.
We've all got our shortcomings, don't we? What did you say? Nothing.
No shortcomings here, believe me! Now just keep cutting! SLOANE: Okay.
(groans) All right.
McGee, get him out of here.
Okay, come on, let's go, come on.
No.
No! Just let him go, Andre.
All right, legs up.
Come on, let's get you out of here.
We have to get out of here! (groaning): You be quiet.
Bishop, you, too, go.
No, Gibbs, I'm good.
(Yorka groans) (Sloane grunts) (Yorka groans) Ooh.
That's not so good.
Just get it out of there.
Bishop, Yorka had a second accomplice.
Call me back.
NCIS, hey.
Dave Barbado, hotel security.
Rest of my team should be here shortly.
Shortly? We don't have shortly.
Where is Romania sitting? Romania? Guys, take it easy.
There's no bomb.
And how do you know that? With this guest list? Homeland had a team comb this place this morning.
Well, don't mind if we check ourselves.
Hang in there, Morgan.
Hello! Help, Doctor.
I need help, Doctor, please.
He's been shot.
Sir.
Here, look at me.
Can you hear me? Yeah, yeah.
McGEE: He lost a lot of blood.
Okay.
Uh, just stay with him for a minute.
I'll be back with more hands.
Everyone okay? You get him? We got him, Morgan, we got him.
MORGAN: Yeah.
All of us.
You everything you got going on, you never left me.
Thank you.
Anything for a fellow law enforcement officer.
(laughs) Y-You go now you be a great daddy.
I will.
And, Morgan, thank you.
Morgan? Morgan.
(screaming) Sure I can't give you something for the pain? (Yorka groaning) No.
Just hurry! Get it out.
Ow! Ow! You got this, okay? You can do it.
I-It's all, it's all about your babies now.
Damn straight it is.
DELILAH: Tim, hi.
Hey, hey, I'm here.
Hi.
Hey, baby.
Okay.
I hear it's time to push.
Oh, it's way past time.
(inhales) Ooh, let's go.
(exhales, cries) Excuse me.
Sorry, sorry.
Gentlemen, I'm so sorry.
Excuse me, excuse me.
Guys, come on.
There's no bomb.
Eh, there's-there's no bomb, folks! Knock yourselves out, guys.
This is on you.
This entire room has been triple checked.
The entire room? Just this room? TORRES: What about the kitchen? Ho-ho-hold it, hold it, hold it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy.
If there is something, let's be a little bit more gentler, shall we? All right, well, there's nothing here.
There's nothing under mine.
(beeping) - Out! Out! Everybody out! - Everybody out! Get out! Ladies and gentlemen, the exit's to the south.
Please move to the exits.
Get out of the room! Stay calm.
REEVES: Out! Out! Everybody out! Out! Evacuate! (groans, screams) Keep it up, Dee, you're doing great.
Give us another big push.
(Delilah groans, screams) (Yorka groaning) (Yorka screaming) (gasps) SLOANE: (grunts) Ah.
Got it.
(Yorka groans) That is a bomb, right? Well, it's got to be.
That's a brick of C-4, or clay, maybe.
Clay? Why would it be clay? Who sticks wires and a motor in clay? I don't know.
Then it's C-4, but shouldn't there be a timer? There's always a timer in the movies.
There's no timer, but it's definitely ticking.
REEVES: It's absolutely ticking.
So what now? I don't know.
Call the bomb squad? What if there's no time? How would you know if there's no timer? Well, good point, but what now? We cut the wires? Okay, well, there's a red one and a yellow one.
Which one do they cut in the movies? This is not a movie.
Yellow.
Always yellow.
Okay.
No, wait.
What? Wait-- no.
You know what? Red.
Definitely red.
Okay.
Yeah.
Maybe.
How about both? And then we run like hell.
I like that plan.
Okay.
Wait.
What? The ticking's getting louder.
And faster.
Do it.
(powering down) You know, you can put that away now.
Why would I do that? We still have my transport to discuss.
Our transport.
Yes, baby, our transport, of course.
(phone rings) Well, there's your transport, right there.
Answer it.
(phone beeps) Yeah, Torres.
TORRES: We got the bomb, Gibbs.
And we shut it right down.
GIBBS: (laughs) That right? Yeah, man.
Just like in the movies.
Ooh, you'd be so proud.
Is what right? What did they say? Your bomb is a goner.
Andre, we don't need you anymore.
What? He said you're finished.
(Yorka screams) Andre! (Sloane yelling) GIBBS: You got him.
You got him.
You got him.
Whoa.
That man, that man you killed? Hey, hey.
He was a good man! Sloane.
He was a he was my friend.
(coughs) He was my friend.
They're perfect, Dee.
They're perfect.
I still can't believe it.
Hey.
So, the news says it's over.
We got the bad guys.
Oh, thank God.
Anyone else hurt? Nope.
Not that I know of.
So I'm gonna, um, go down.
Uh, do you want a grape soda? And can I send the gang up? No to the soda.
Yes to the gang, if they're up for it.
ABBY: This is only, like, the best Thanksgiving ever.
(chuckles) Just saying.
Hey, little buddy.
Hey, it's Mommy.
I guess it's name time.
Yeah, I've been rethinking those, uh, Star Wars names.
Mm.
How about John? After your dad.
John McGee.
Johnny, meet your sister.
Your sister.
Your sister? We got it narrowed down to six.
Can I add a seventh? Oh, seriously? How do you feel about - What? - Morgan? Morgan McGee? Mmm.
Johnny and Morgan.
Yeah.
Yeah, that sounds right.
Hi.
That's a pretty picture.