Is that a menacing lion I see over there?
Or maybe just an angry squirrel.
Okay, got it.
Your boyfriend's a big chicken.
Hilarious. Oh, no.
Are there chickens out here, too?
It's snakes I'm worried about, okay?
Not lions, not tigers...
Snakes in the middle of winter?
Why not? They're cold-blooded.
Which is why they're dormant: not enough sun
to warm them up.
This is ninth grade earth science, babe.
- I guess I slept through that... - Oh, my God!
Nice try.
Whoa.
What the hell?
Joe, get up!
♪ NCIS 16x16 ♪ Bears and Cubs Original Air Date on March 12, 2019
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
I swear, McGee, your case summaries read like a good book.
Thank you.
I try and do more than "just the facts, ma'am."
This one is a real page-turner.
It's got mood, intrigue, emotion.
And that typo.
That or you flat-out misspelled the word.
Either way, I caught it.
And what word is that?
"Weather." As in:
"Our agents did their best
to whether the storm."
I see it. You spelled it W-H,
"whether or not."
When in fact it should be
W-E, as in, like: "How's the weather?"
Or as in: "I doubt whether anyone would care either way."
I care. I'm not just anyone.
There is a third spelling.
W-E-T-H,
like in "bellwether," which means a castrated ram.
And why would anyone say: "We'll castrated ram the storm"?
Uh, just pointing out the nuances of the English language.
I've got some nuance for you.
Grab your gear. Dead petty officer,
Great Falls Park.
What is a bellwether?
Well, a "wether" is a ram that leads
a flock of sheep
with a bell around its neck.
It's a bellwether.
- Ah, got it. - Okay, cool.
Don't even ask, boss.
Victim is Petty Officer Third Class Logan Braddish,
currently listed as U.A. from his base in Norfolk.
What was he doing way out here?
And what tore him up like that?
Give me a guess, Palmer.
There's a lot of little postmortem bites
from much smaller animals,
but his throat and abdomen
were clearly ripped up by something much larger.
Well, park rangers have had black bear sightings
- over the past few years. - Except black bears
aren't known to attack people.
Could have been wolves.
Or coyotes.
In these woods?
- Mm. - No way.
Oh, got something here.
- Bishop. - Hmm?
Oh.
That's a claw.
Sure is. Uh, could I have
an evidence bag, please?
That could have been a bear after all.
- Could be. - Maybe he
accidentally snuck up on a mother and her cubs?
Only one way to find out.
Spread out, start looking.
Paw prints, bear scat, blood trail. Go.
And by "scat" you mean...?
Does a bear scat in the woods?
Ah. Yeah, that's what I thought you meant.
He was just a baby-faced kid.
Ah. Guess I can add this to the list.
Yeah? What list?
Of the most horrible deaths since I started here.
This ranks somewhere
between pummeled with a war stick
and boiled in a hot tub. You know,
technically, our hot tub guy was stabbed before he was boiled.
Yeah, that makes it so much less horrible.
Anyway, please tell me this is your first bear attack.
It is. If that's what this is.
You have this claw and those wounds.
What more do you need?
I need whatever you can find here.
You got it.
Quick as I can.
- Hi. - Hey.
There's my favorite son-in-law.
What?
Oh.
Ed. Hey.
You're busy.
No. I, uh... I-I mean, yes, yes.
But I...
Is everything okay?
Everyone's super-duper.
I was just in the neighborhood,
thought I'd surprise you.
Thank you, Agent Supliski.
I've got him.
And actually...
...I thought I'd grab you for lunch.
Oh, gosh. I-I would love that.
Are you sure there's nothing wrong?
Given your reaction, it must be obvious
that we don't do this nearly enough.
Or ever.
Uh, actually, you know what, Ed,
I-I might have to take a rain check for today.
I've just started a rather peculiar case.
Forget peculiar.
We don't get many like this at the funeral home.
I'd be worried if you did.
Wow. Mind if I ask what happened?
Bear attack is
the working theory so far.
A bear? How crazy is that?
Maybe a little too crazy, Ed.
There's a lot of claw marks here,
but as you can see, none of them are too deep.
Yeah, I-I think a bear would pack more of a wallop.
Well, they look plenty deep to me.
I could see a grizzly bear out west,
or maybe a polar bear up north, but...
I mean, a black bear attack?
Why not? I hear about attacks all the time,
and, you know, black bears, brown bears,
they all have teeth and claws, right?
Wait a minute.
How did I miss that?
Miss what? What is it?
It looks like a knife wound
under this claw mark.
Yeah. Yeah, that's about an inch wide.
Partially obscured by this...
torn dermis here.
You see that, Ed?
You...
Ed? What's wrong?
This was a bear.
What?
Say it was a bear. Please.
Ed, wh-what are you... I promise you, Jimmy,
it's a matter of life and death.
Call it a bear attack. For me.
What do you got, Palmer?
Oh. Agent Gibbs.
Well, you know what?
It's Ed Slater.
I'm Jimmy's father-in-law and Breena's dad.
It's been a few years. I'm glad you're well.
Undertaker. You remember. See?
Yeah, that's right.
Although I prefer "postmortem coordinator."
Palmer.
You need an update?
Still a bear?
Um... yeah.
I-It's... it's still a bear.
Keep me posted.
Good to see you again, Gibbs.
What have I done?
Can't believe I just lied to Gibbs.
And for what?
Pancakes.
You ever have pancakes for lunch?
What do you say?
Tell me why, Ed,
why, after years of earning that man's trust,
did I just lie to his face because of you.
What is so life-and-death?
I hate to admit, but I've been gambling.
And, well, I thought it was just a weekly friendly poker game
with the other local merchants.
Gambling is not life-and-death, Ed.
But $50K is.
That's what I get for going all in
on four kings, not knowing the dry cleaner had four aces.
You lost $50,000
to a dry cleaner?
Peter hosts the game.
Nice guy, or at least he was
until I went to work out a payment plan.
Suddenly he had a favor to ask
that would erase all my debts entirely.
- A favor? - He brought the kid's dead body
to my embalming studio
and told me to make it look like an accident.
Okay, who wants coffee?
Not just yet.
Actually...
I'd love a cup.
- Ed. - Huh?
Not just yet.
Okay.
Did the dry cleaner tell you what happened?
No, and I didn't ask.
I saw the knife wound and that he was Navy,
so I figured eventually he'd end up
on your autopsy table, so...
So you thought you'd just fake a bear attack.
That's why I worked so hard to make it look real
so that'd make your job easier.
Wh-What, to help you cover up a murder?
That's not exactly what we did.
That is exactly what...
That is exactly
what you did, not we.
Unless... What about Stevie?
Is he still helping you out at the funeral home?
Sure, yeah, but Stevie's out of town.
He doesn't know anything about it.
Of course. Your own son stays clean
while your son-in-law gets dragged through the mud.
I swear I'll make it up to you.
Don't. Just...
I don't...
Tell me who else plays in this game.
It's me and Peter Liu--
he's the dry cleaner--
Janice, the Froyo lady,
Dimitri, who owns a barbershop,
old man DiNozzo,
Lenny the bartender,
and... Stop.
Did you just say "old man DiNozzo"?
Anthony. Yeah. He's retired,
but a real old-school raconteur.
- He knows terrific stories. - Okay,
w-was he there the night that you lost?
Yeah. Why? Do you know him?
You bet I do. I'm gonna reach out
and see if he can help.
Uh...
what do you want me to do?
Uh, you just... order your coffee and pancakes
and... I don't know,
try not to cover up any more murders till I get back, huh?
Sarcasm doesn't help.
"Derived from the Greek word 'skat' with a 'K,'
meaning 'excrement of an animal'."
Yeah. Wild animals, maybe.
Cows have manure, cow pats, meadow muffins...
Bird droppings, bat guano...
Wait, did you say "meadow muffins"?
Cut the crap. You find any?
No, boss, no, uh, scat at the scene.
No paw prints, either.
Then what do we have?
Petty Officer Third Class Logan Braddish, 22.
Served three years, stationed out of Norfolk,
where he never reported back this past Sunday
after weekend liberty.
Navy pals claimed that he left their group
Friday night to check out this trendy nightclub in Georgetown,
and that was the last they saw of him.
- Any family in the area? - No. He was from Vermont.
His family has been notified. His dad is on his way down.
McGee, Bishop, check out the nightclub. Torres,
call the rangers again, find out if they have any bear sightings.
Scat.
Call me back as soon as you can, Mr. DiNozzo.
It's urgent.
Thank you.
Hey there.
You finished already?
Yes. And... look who's back.
I... Oh, of course.
Dr. Mallard!
Good to see you, too, Dr. Palmer.
You aren't due back for several weeks.
Yes. But this weekend,
I have a table at the...
Marine Corps Scholarship Foundation Ball.
So...
back I am.
And we're so glad you are.
Yes. Definitely glad.
And I discovered he was back because I have some weird news.
- Weird? - Those samples you gave me?
They contain not one trace of bear saliva.
Bear saliva.
This must be the petty officer in question.
That-that is weird, Kasie.
L-Let me take another sample here just to make sure.
May I assist you with that?
No, you may not.
What I mean to say is that if I have made a mistake,
I would prefer to correct it myself,
if you don't mind. - Hmm.
Of course.
You know, Duckster, I'd, um...
I would love to show you the latest addition to my lab.
Yes! Yes, comfy chairs.
You need to try these out.
I'm, well, I-I'm gonna just, um, swab,
uh, another sample for Kasie and that's all.
Very well. Lead the way, Kasie.
So glad you're back.
Oh, man.
What am I doing?
Can I be doing this?
Is this even happening?
Why am I asking you?
Mr. DiNozzo. Thank you for calling me back.
What's up, Brother Jimmy?
What's the deal?
Deal? What deal? There's no deal.
Kasie texted me. She said you were stressed.
What's wrong, man?
I just got a lot going on. You know?
And I was just going to meet someone, so, uh...
Who are you gonna meet?
Spit it out, dude.
Talk to your boy Nick.
Fine.
You don't happen to know somewhere
where I could get some bear saliva, do you?
I actually do know a guy.
But the guy is super weird,
so this has to be really important.
Yeah, I lied to Gibbs.
- What? - I did it. I lied.
It happened so fast. Please, just don't tell him.
No, I won't. But you know he knows.
He does know, doesn't he? Yeah, he always knows.
Yeah, I knew the second that I told him that he knew.
Worse off, he knows that I know that he knows.
Well, you know how he knows. He knows that...
Never mind.
Why did you lie? Okay, so, it's a long story,
but... Actually, don't tell me.
I don't want to know. I'm better off that way.
You got to fix this, right?
Yeah. I fully intend to.
I gotta clean up something else first.
What's that something else you have to clean up?
Do you really want to know, Nick?
Yes. No.
No. Yes. Actually, no, I don't really want to know.
No, don't tell me.
I don't really want to know.
I really want to know.
That's quite a tale.
Yeah? What do you think?
How well do you know this, uh, dry cleaner?
- Peter? Well enough. - Hmm.
Being an excellent poker player
doesn't necessarily make him a killer.
He's not excellent, just lucky.
I'm afraid it's more than I can say for you.
Watching you play that last hand
that night, Ed, was like watching
a car wreck in slow motion.
His raises were way over the top,
and he's got so many tells.
No, I don't. Yes, you do.
I knew something was wrong the second you came in this morning.
Your lower lip twitches.
And the eyebrows, huh?
The best of Groucho.
Plus, uh, he's a table talker.
Constantly bragging between hands
about his hotshot son-in-law who runs NCIS.
You tell people I run NCIS?
Well, it's easier than explaining
what an assistant ME does.
I've told you seven times, I'm not an assistant anymore.
And-and you didn't bother correcting him?
I'm not a table talker.
But could we get back to the alleged murder?
You're right. I'm afraid
it's more than alleged, though, Mr. D.
The poor kid was clearly stabbed.
But by whom?
I mean, Peter hardly seems like the type.
I could talk to him.
Yeah? And say what?
Well, I'd mediate.
Uh, try to get Ed off the hook here
and maybe point us
in the, uh, direction of the true killer.
That would be fantastic.
Yeah, I'll take Ed with me,
but I think it's, uh, better if you steer clear.
No, absolutely not.
No, this is on me to clean up.
If you go, I go.
I wouldn't mind not going.
Oh, no, you're going. We're all going.
Oh, it's a Liu's Hangers.
There's one of these in my neighborhood.
- Must be a chain, huh? - Peter Liu's.
The best in the biz.
Yeah, it's no wonder he can afford to host
such a high-stakes game.
Oh, there are far bigger games than this.
And with some serious high rollers.
Too high for my blood.
Hey, guys, before we go in,
I beg you to just stay civil with Peter.
Relax, Ed. The guy's a pussycat.
Hold on.
Your lower lip is twitching.
No, it's not.
There go the dancing eyebrows.
All right, Groucho. Spill your guts.
- What are you not telling us? - All right.
Fine. You know what, maybe it's better that you know
before we go in. - Know what?
Peter Liu's got Stevie.
- Stevie? - Ed's son.
Wait, wh-what do you mean, "got"?
Peter's taken him as insurance.
Insurance.
You know, he's not giving Stevie back
until I take care of the dead kid.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me.
I wish I was, but...
Okay, so-so, Stevie has been taken hostage,
and you're only telling us about this now?
Hey.
The last thing Peter said was if I tell anyone,
Stevie's good as dead.
Okay. All right. You know what, guys?
We should just go. All right?
It might be a little late for that.
I hope he can't read lips.
Bear attack. Ridiculous.
I told you to stick with the plan
and just cremate the guy.
I couldn't do it, Peter.
Cremate him, Ed?
I thought he told you to make it look like an accident.
He was also warned not to tell anyone,
but here you are.
The famous son-in-law who runs NCIS.
I may not run NCIS, but make no mistake.
I could have a team of agents down here in minutes.
You're in too deep with too much to lose.
If you weren't, your agents
would be here already.
Peter, can we just take a breath?
It's me talking,
your old buddy Tony.
I'm sure that you and I can reach a compromise.
You know what, Tony? You are a buddy,
so I'll tell you this once.
Keep your nose out of this or lose it.
How's that for compromise?
Not exactly what I had in mind.
Would you just tell us if Stevie is here?
He's safe.
But he'll only stay that way
if you can sell this stupid bear attack.
Mind you, a simple cremation would've avoided all of this.
Thank your father-in-law for that.
The bear attack wasn't stupid, by the way.
It was stupid.
Now go finish this.
Go!
If you'd just told me about Stevie from the start, Ed,
I would've handled this a lot differently.
I was afraid. I panicked.
I panicked a little bit myself in there.
Okay. All right, we are all done panicking.
I know now what I have to do.
You'll sign off on the bear attack?
No! Ed, there's no more bear attack.
What I have to do is much worse.
Good morning, McGee. You, uh, get the footage uploaded?
Just finishing now.
What up, what up? You came through the back way?
I went to see Jimmy, but he's not in yet.
Has he been through here?
No. Why?
No reason.
Nick.
Ellie.
How'd it go at the club?
No, you first.
No.
You first. Nightclub.
- Go. - Well, we confirmed
Petty Officer Braddish was there
Friday night.
Club's owner recognized him
as one of two men tossed out for fighting.
Owner didn't know either man, but the bouncers said
that both men were drunk and hitting on the same girl.
That's what led to the brawl.
There were no cameras outside the club, so we're looking
for witnesses who may have seen what happened
after they were thrown out.
Find the witnesses.
Get the footage down to Kasie.
- Facial recognition. - Got it.
Hey, uh, Gibbs, the kid's father is here
with Sloane in the conference room.
When did you last speak to your son, Mr. Braddish?
Uh, right before weekend liberty.
He'd been working hard.
He was pumped.
Last thing I said to him...
The last thing I said to him was, "Be careful."
Why? Was Logan planning to do anything daring or dangerous?
No, no, just letting off a little steam.
Logan was a bit of a hellcat as a teen,
but the navy really turned him around.
Hey, there.
Special Agent Gibbs. Don't get up.
We're sorry about your loss.
Thank you.
Not that, uh...
not that Logan was a bad kid.
He just...
A little bit of a partier, you know?
Too much beer after football games.
He get in many fights?
He had a few scrapes, like anyone.
Why?
Are you trying to tell me that that's how he died?
Was Logan in a fight?
We're still working on that.
Please.
The cops won't give me any details.
How did he die?
I'm so sorry, Mr. Braddish.
We know this is very difficult.
Can I at least see him?
I hate to interrupt.
Can I have a minute?
That was the father? I just couldn't
bring myself to tell him that his son was mauled by a bear.
Uh, it-it wasn't a bear attack.
Then what was it?
I can't say until I've talked with Agent Gibbs.
Privately.
Okay.
First of all, Gibbs, I... No.
Not here.
Is this really necessary?
Depends. What do you have to tell me?
Sit down.
Is anyone back there?
No. Not yet.
So talk fast.
I... lied to you, Agent Gibbs.
And I know that you know that already, but what you don't know
is that Ed had just begged me to cover for him
after he lost $50,000 in a poker game
to an evil dry cleaner who I'm pretty sure killed our Navy kid
and then demanded that Ed cremate the body,
or he'd never see his son Stevie again.
Only instead of doing that, Ed, h-he fakes a bear attack
and never even tells me about Stevie
until just before me, Ed and Mr. DiNozzo
go to see the dry cleaner.
Yeah, that's right: Senior,
he plays in this game as well, so he thought
maybe he could reason with the dry cleaner,
but you know what? No dice.
So the... the guy still has Stevie,
and I'm sorry.
Go back.
And I won't blame you
for wanting to fire me right now,
but I-I guess I could just...
I could plead temporary insanity.
Under intense familial pressure,
I stupidly thought that I could...
I could thread the needle between my personal ethics,
my loyalty and-and Breena.
Oh, my wife. Agent Gibbs,
she worships her father, and hearing any of this
would just break her heart, and so... so...
so, uh...
nothing.
I'm done.
No. No, you're not done.
Who's the dry cleaner?
Right. Uh, his name is, uh, uh, Peter Liu.
He owns Liu's Hangers chain,
which, I'm sure, is just a front.
He's clearly Mr. Big.
I can take you to his main office.
Stop.
- This is for my confession? - The address.
You knew the whole time, didn't you?
It's a culture of lies, Palmer.
Deceit, dishonesty,
hypocrisy.
Stupid is smart.
Disgrace...
is honor.
Not to me, Agent Gibbs. I...
It's our responsibility
to fix things.
I have to trust you.
You can.
Gibbs, I am so sorry.
Don't lie.
Finish that autopsy.
You make that kid look presentable for his dad.
NCIS!
Clear.
Not clear.
Think this is Jimmy's Mr. Big?
Not anymore.
Look, Gibbs, don't be too hard on Jimmy.
It was me. I'm the one.
With Peter dead, where's that leave Stevie?
Maybe it's Stevie who killed him.
No. There's no way. It was not Stevie.
Then who? You and Palmer
were the last to see the dry cleaner alive.
Yeah, but you know we didn't do it.
Don't you?
How did Stevie get mixed up in this?
He's not.
He's-he's a great kid
and, uh, just a casualty of my stupidity.
Well, someone disagrees.
He had some issues as a youngster,
but he's way past that now for weeks.
Years.
Tell the truth, Ed.
Palmer!
Get in here!
Give him hell, Jimmy.
Good luck.
You're gonna need it.
All right...
that...
All right,
no more family card to play here, Ed.
Time to come clean.
Stevie didn't do anything.
Are you sure about that?
Ed, you have been making excuses for him his entire life,
after how many DUIs? Hey!
The cheating at school.
Bouncing from one job to the next.
All that's ancient history.
Or roping us all in to some can't-miss real estate scam? Ed.
Hey! What the hell does any of this
have to do with our dead sailor?
Nothing. I just...
Trying to set the record straight.
I...
Sorry.
No. I'm sorry.
Still making excuses, covering up for him.
Covering for what?
Wasn't my gambling that started all this.
It was Stevie's.
He got himself into a much bigger game.
How much he lose?
Over $200,000.
Which is why I was betting so high at Peter's.
Just trying to get us out of debt, but my luck was no better.
And then, uh, last Friday I got a call
about a meeting in Georgetown around 2:00 a.m.
Peter had the Navy kid's body in the trunk
of this other fella's fancy car.
What other fella?
Peter called him Kenny.
Asian. Around 30.
He's the one who ran the big game.
Kenny it is.
Kenny told us he'd get us out of debt
right after we got rid of the body.
- But you didn't. - I couldn't.
His family deserves closure.
This him?
Yeah, that's him.
All right, you're still in custody.
If he tries to leave, shoot him.
Just wish you hadn't aired all that personal family dirt
in front of Gibbs.
It's nobody's business.
- Seriously? - Hey,
Stevie has had challenges you know nothing about.
Not everyone is born with your sunny disposition
unencumbered by darkness.
Unencumbered? Is that what you think of me?
You think I just, I came into this world just whistling rainbows?
You know, at first glance, uh, yeah.
What do you know about me?
About my family, about my upbringing.
About my dad.
Ed, have you ever even asked?
I always assumed...
He died when I was ten.
You know, the sad part is...
we were okay.
My dad, he was...
...he was not a good man.
I'll leave it at that.
I only gave up hating him after Victoria was born...
as a daily conscious and concerted effort
to never be like him.
I have one--
make that two
great father figures here at NCIS.
And yet there is something in me
that is still holding out hope for you,
that one day you're actually gonna show up for me...
like an actual dad.
Why would I do that?
What is wrong with me?
- Oh, Jimmy, I... - No.
I've got work to do. Come on.
Update. Find any Kennys?
No, sir. Not yet.
I've been looking into Peter Liu.
No prior criminal record, but his personal history
might help us. Put it up.
Emigrated from Singapore in 1997.
He worked menial jobs for years
before opening up his first three dry-cleaning shops
in 2008.
How'd he swing that? Well, with the help
of Liu's childhood friend,
the shops were bankrolled
by someone named Henry Deng.
Wait, the Henry Deng?
You know him?
Well, the man's a god
in the tech world.
Harvard MBA who now owns
multiple corporations globally. He's one of the wealthiest guys
in Singapore.
Keep digging.
Ducky.
Anthony!
What a pleasant surprise.
The surprise is mine.
No one mentioned that you were back.
Yeah, funny the way that is.
I heard my, uh, poker pal
was on your table here.
That's the last time that I will ever get involved
in business with NCIS.
Well, that may make the two of us.
What does that mean?
It means that this may be my last autopsy
for a while, perhaps ever.
What are you talking about?
How do you do it, Anthony?
What's your secret?
How do you reinvent yourself so successfully time and again,
and-and so late in life?
I suppose it starts by, uh, never conceding that it's...
late in life.
Yes, I came back here 'cause I'm going
to the Marine Corps Scholarship Foundation Ball,
but I admit...
I miss my NCIS family.
They're easy to miss.
Yeah, the trouble is,
I'm not sure there's a place for me here.
Uh, Dr. Palmer is a exceptional medical examiner
who has every right to resent my return.
I daresay I might feel the same way
if the roles were reversed.
No. No, you wouldn't.
And for the record, I have never resented you.
Dr. Palmer, it's all right.
- I... - No, no, Doctor.
I was rude and curt with you earlier,
but it's only because I didn't want you to see me
making the biggest mistake of my life.
I have brought shame
on our profession in a way that, frankly, you never would have.
Oh, that's a bunch of baloney.
You were just trying to be a good, uh, son-in-law to Groucho,
and you still ended up doing everything right.
Jimmy, you are an honorable man.
There's no way
you could bring shame to this profession.
Bring it in.
Damn place gets me every time.
Kase. What do we got?
We've got a match, Gibbs.
Two days of running facial recognition
has finally given us a face.
Kenneth Dent, pictured here
after his 2011 arrest for drunk and disorderly
as a junior at Towson University.
Yeah. That's our Kenny. Where is he now?
Towson has no idea.
He flunked out shortly after,
and they have no record of his current whereabouts.
- Shouldn't be too hard to find. - But it might be with that name,
'cause-- and here's where it gets good--
I dug deeper to find that Kenneth Dent
is actually a registered alias,
given for security purposes
due to his wealthy family
in Singapore.
Ever heard the name... Henry Deng?
Way to blow my big reveal.
How are they related?
Oh, Henry's youngest son.
Kenneth Dent is actually Keung Deng,
youngest heir to the Deng fortune and empire.
Singapore consulate says Keung Deng,
aka Kenny Dent,
has no permanent U.S. residence.
It seems he moves from one luxury hotel to the next.
Currently checked in at the D.C. Biltmore.
Well, or checked out.
Biltmore said his credit cards were cancelled as of yesterday.
BOLO. Every airport, every border.
Maybe Henry caught wind of his son's crimes
and cut him off?
Ask Henry Deng.
Boss, that's easier said than done.
He's pretty high up on the food chain.
I'll handle that, McGee.
We've got a missing suspect
who's broke
and likely holding Jimmy's brother-in-law.
That might be his only leverage.
Unless he still has his game.
Oh, that's right. The high-stakes game.
How do we find it?
I might be able to help with that.
Hey! Chief!
Gibbs. How are you?
- Good to see you. - Good to see you.
- Thanks. - Hey.
We heard you were lurking around.
Oh, Ellie, never lurking.
Strutting, baby, strutting.
How do you help us?
I know people who know people.
I could make a few calls.
Yeah.
Um, if I find the game, Gibbs,
don't, uh...
don't storm the castle.
Okay? Why not?
Because these games, they got security.
Good guys and bad guys.
Uh, it could get messy.
Maybe it'd be better if they played a few rounds
until we find out if this, uh, Kenny fellow really shows up.
Start calling.
Hey, Gibbs, send me.
Bishop and I can go undercover.
You know, Charlie and Louise.
Um, no, I don't know anything about poker.
Oh, I know someone who does.
So, I beat Gibbs
at one of his friendly home poker games, and now he thinks
I'm, like, the Cincinnati Kid.
Oh, so, uh, Gibbs has, uh, games at his house?
I'm sure you'll... be invited next time.
Here we go.
- Good evening. - Please, come in.
Thank you.
Oh, this is gonna be good.
Hmm?
Oh, hello.
It's not him.
Uh, pardon,
who's the "him" you're talking about?
Never mind.
Who referred you?
Anthony DiNozzo.
Sweet Tony.
But I'm afraid the game's
been cancelled tonight. - We could've guessed that.
Ooh, let's guess again.
You're waiting for Kenny Dent.
- You know where he is? - We were hoping
to find him here. So were we.
He owes money to everyone in this room.
Ah, that explains the guns.
But word on the street is he's already skipped town.
Damn.
Well, since we're already here,
might as well play a hand or two, you know?
Fine.
All right, we're gonna need some gun permits.
How about a donut, huh?
Danish?
Apple fritter?
What, no bear claws?
Stop apologizing, Jimmy.
You're making it worse.
I just feel so bad that my family dysfunction
is causing all this trouble.
Palmer, you're our family.
You're worth the trouble, okay?
Now, go get us some bear claws.
- Autopsy results? - Oh, right.
The knife wounds on both Petty Officer Braddish
and Peter Liu are a match,
but there's nothing to confirm
that it was Kenny Deng who did the stabbing.
- Still no Kenny Deng? - No. Still in the wind, boss.
We've got BOLOs out all over the Northeast,
so he can't get far.
Yeah, unless he's already gone.
Yeah, along with Stevie.
Uh, hey, Gibbs?
Henry Deng. Conference room.
Seriously, boss? You got him?
The Chief.
He knows people.
Understand, Agents,
this meeting is a diplomatic courtesy.
Mr. Deng is pleased that he happened to be in D.C.
negotiating a merger.
Well, we are quite pleased as well.
And I am eager to clear my son's name.
Any mistake Keung made was surely
in self-defense. - You know what your son did?
Only what he's accused of.
Your son killed a U.S. Navy seaman.
Perhaps this was a mistake.
You think my son is a murderer?
Yeah, and he's also a kidnapper.
Mind you, he only kidnapped to cover up the murder, so...
You sent your dry cleaner buddy to help your son,
and your son killed him, too.
That's when you punished him, cut him off.
But have you washed your hands entirely, Mr. Deng?
Helping a suspect to flee the country--
we call that aiding and abetting, sir.
I have no idea of what you believe,
nor my son's whereabouts.
Amazing. The parental dynamic.
Some folks are too tough on their kids.
Others are not nearly tough enough.
Which one are you, Mr. Deng?
I'm afraid that ends our meeting.
Okay.
Gibbs.
And who is this?
Ed Slater, Mr. Deng.
Another father with a son in trouble.
I couldn't help but hear
Agent Sloane's question through the door.
Afraid I fall into the "not tough enough" category.
Funny how we get this picture in our heads
of what our kids might become.
Give them every chance, bailing them out of trouble
over and over,
hoping this incident will be the one that flips
the switch in their heads so they might finally
turn that elusive corner.
And when they don't,
hell, I even resent other kids
who seem to have it all together,
wondering why my son can't be more like them.
Tell him why you didn't cremate the body like you were told, Ed.
I figured the only thing worse
than losing a child
would be to have one simply vanish
and never be found.
I'm begging you, sir.
If you know where my son is, please tell us.
Is my Stevie alive?
Is he safe?
I just need to know.
Please.
Kenny, can we please talk about this?
All you do is talk. I'm done.
No, no, no, no, no, please, please!
Just listen to me.
I-I won't say anything.
I swear to God.
No, Kenny!
Kenny!
Please! NCIS.
Help!
Oh, thank God. Thank you.
Oh, man. Thank you, guys, so much.
Dad? Jimmy?
Stevie, thank God you're okay!
Thank you, Jimmy. I-I knew you'd come save me.
I-I kept praying.
It's okay, it's okay. I kept praying.
Stevie, it was your dad.
He's the one you should be thanking.
No, Jimmy, it was you.
Thank you, son.
Now it feels like a real prom.
The Marine Corps Scholarship Foundation ball
is far better than any prom, Anthony.
And you're extremely fortunate to be my date.
Don't I know it.
But I would prefer "wingman,"
if you don't mind.
Ah, yes, I forget.
We're going to be hitting
some of his favorite night spots afterwards.
We'd invite you to come along, Gibbs,
but you're a bit young for this crowd.
And who needs the competition?
Long as you have protection.
Don't leave home without it. Yeah.
Start the car. I'll be right out.
Uh, keep the phone by your bed, Gibbs.
We may need you to post bail.
Good night, Chief.
Good to go?
What an appropriate choice of words.
Something on your mind?
No, no. Not now.
Perhaps tomorrow.
What are you planning after tomorrow?
I'm-I'm not entirely sure.
But one thing I am certain of...
...my future
will no longer include NCIS.
Jethro, I've done all I have to do.
It's time for Dr. Palmer
to be the permanent chief medical examiner.
I'm sorry.
Good night.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man