Find the button that says "cable," Grandma.
Should be on the top of the remote.
Yeah, the...
Okay, now, now... push the "power" button.
Do you see a blue light on the... on the cable box?
I-I don't know, Grandma. That's just the way it works.
No, you can't have your old remote back.
Whoo! What a rush!
Because it's in the trash, that's why. I threw it out.
More loofahs? Come on, people.
Mama needs a new pair of shoes.
Uh, uh, Edie says she loves and misses you, too.
Ye... Okay, I'll have the car back to you tonight, I promise.
I got to go. Okay. Love you. Okay, bye.
What the...?
♪ NCIS 16x03 ♪ Boom Original Air Date on October 9, 2018
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
"F."
No "F." You lose.
Wait. What?
No, what about the-the eyes and the mouth and the face?
There is no face in hangman.
Bishop.
Not getting involved.
Sorry I'm late.
And I'm already late for my next meeting,
so let's get started so we can get finished.
Everyone, take a look at these documents.
Who is she?
Agency attorney. Never good news.
Effective immediately,
NCIS is discontinuing its use
of cell phone tower location tracking.
- With this directive, we can... - Whoa, whoa, hold on.
Are you, are you saying that I can no longer
ping a suspect's cell phone?
Not without a warrant you can't.
Hi. Agent Torres here.
So, uh, Agent McGee, uh, he pings, like, all the time.
That is like his superpower.
Not anymore. Supreme Court just ruled it's illegal.
They're wrong. Right, McGee?
Actually, I kind of get it.
Sometimes privacy outweighs the need for security.
I'm sorry, what McGee means to say is the new policy
means dangerous criminals can get away.
- Does Director Vance know about this? - He's on leave.
What about Gibbs?
Yeah, what about him?
Explosion outside a Navy SEAL's house.
We have two bodies.
Wait, I just need one more minute, sir,
to finish my presentation. Grab your gear.
- "Grab your gear." - "Grab your gear."
Oh, "grab your gear."
Those two yahoos okay?
I don't know anymore.
Where's my damn paper?
Come on.
Geez.
Kayla?
Have you seen the newspaper?
Morning, Dad. You're just in time.
Honey, my newspaper.
I recycled it.
Already? It's only 8:30.
Which means it's time for you to go back to work.
Today's your first day back.
I thought you'd be showered by now.
And dressed.
You want something to go with your coffee?
Yeah, my newspaper.
You are not getting away that easy.
Yeah, I noticed.
How's the hip today?
- It's cranky. - Like the rest of you.
Sweetheart, thank you for breakfast.
That was very thoughtful.
But I've got physical therapy today.
So, work tomorrow, then?
We'll see.
And right here.
You've, uh, you've never seen that vehicle before?
No, sir. Whose is it?
Burglars. The neighbors saw one of them
steal a package off your porch.
And then they... exploded?
The package exploded.
Palmer, what do we...
Got?
Yeah.
Well, we got two victims. Death was instantaneous.
Both died from blast injuries.
Were you expecting any deliveries today,
Petty Officer Nicholas?
Maybe.
My wife orders stuff online all the time.
Well, according to the delivery company,
it was addressed to you.
- Hey, hey, whoa. - Let me through.
I'm his wife.
- Hey! - Todd.
My darling, are you okay?
I'm fine. I'm okay.
Is that his wife?
Uh, yeah. It looks like it.
- Her name's Sheba. - Sheba.
McGee, you know her?
Yeah. You-you guys don't?
No. Bishop, do you?
Uh, no.
I'm okay.
McGee.
Sorry, boss. Uh, her name is Sheba.
She's one of the stars of the show Real Wives of War.
The reality show? You watch that?
- Well, Delilah does. - Mm-hmm.
Uh-huh.
Oh, my God, you know what?
Petty Officer Nicholas must be Todd.
How could this happen?
Todd-- he's not on the show,
but she talks about him all the time.
Says that she is the luckiest woman in the world.
Wow. Delilah must, uh, really like that show.
Yeah.
Okay.
Excuse me, Officer.
Uh, yes. Sorry, I mean Agent.
I mean, um... what?
Please tell me this isn't real.
Excuse me?
It's sweeps. Greg put you up to this?
Greg.
My producer.
Hey, Torres.
Uh, no, this is real.
Somebody mailed your husband a bomb.
A bomb?
That doesn't make any sense. What are you talking about?
A bomb?
I think I know who did this.
My wife.
Our package thief is Edie Samples.
A doorbell camera caught her in the act.
It appears she and boyfriend Walt Fergus
followed the delivery truck
and stole all the packages.
They picked the wrong package to poach.
Who was the bomb's real target?
Petty Officer First Class
Todd Nicholas. 27.
Graduated from SEAL training two months ago.
As squared away as they come.
- What about his wife? - Sheba Nicholas.
25. No kids, no record, no job,
until she joined the reality show Real Wives of War
two seasons ago.
Actually, it was two and a half.
She was in all 41 episodes,
if you count the two-parter as one,
which I personally like to... do.
Go on.
Well, I-I don't know all that much.
No, it's okay, McGee. I mean, we've already judged you, so...
Oh, okay.
Well, the show's about four military wives, right?
Charlotte, Tessa, Angela-- Angela's quite the instigator.
Actually, Tess and Char-Char are pretty catty, too.
- Char-Char? - My point is that Sheba
is the wholesome, virtuous one.
She loves everyone, especially her husband.
Last week's episode...
We got it. You think she's innocent.
Boss, the Sheba I know would never do anything like this.
Now that I say that out loud, I feel slightly embarrassed.
Hey, Tim... you should be.
"Char-Char."
Were you able to trace that package?
Dead end. It was sent by a "G. Washington"
with a return address to the Lincoln Memorial.
Your turn. Why do you think your wife sent it?
Three days ago, Sheba threatened to kill me.
Why?
She thinks I'm having an affair.
Are you?
Do I have to tell the truth in here, sir?
Well, that depends. You like bombs in your mail?
I'm not having an affair. But I told her I was.
Okay.
I want out of my marriage.
That woman is not the person I fell in love with.
That show turned her into a total psycho.
Silly question: why not just divorce?
I've tried.
She won't do it; she thinks I'll make a play
for her reality money.
Okay, her threat-- what did she say, exactly?
She told me that she would chop off my, um... manhood...
...while I slept, and then laugh as I bled to death.
Mm. Oh, my God.
I love him so much. He's my whole world.
How can he accuse me of something like this?
Well, maybe... I just don't understand.
It doesn't make any sense!
Sheba.
You can stop now.
We know your marriage is falling apart.
Todd told you that, huh?
Typical.
Then why'd you let me go on blubbering like that?
You ruined my mascara.
I am so sorry.
Why were you blubbering like that?
Look, this is me.
If you don't like it, change the channel.
Three days ago, did you threaten...
Seriously, do you guys have a mirror or something?
Of course you do.
Fascinating.
Never meet your heroes, McGee.
I don't get it. She doesn't act like this on the show.
Key word: "act."
Yeah, but she's not an actor. Reality shows...
Detach from reality.
Okay, Sheba, enough. Sit down.
Can I talk to someone else?
What's that other agent's name, McGoo?
He's in there, right?
- Charming. - McGoo?
I said sit down.
Fine.
Anyways, that's the camera you should be playing to.
Wait, you guys are recording this?
Hey, do you think my producers can get access to this tape?
Did you or did you not threaten your husband?
Let me save you a lot of time.
I don't know how to make a bomb.
But you know who does? My husband.
The Navy taught him. He knows I check the mail.
Maybe he addressed the bomb to himself to avoid suspicion.
Did you ever think of that?
She makes a good point.
Her husband's a trained killer,
and he told Torres he wanted out of the marriage.
Just can't quit her, huh, McGoo?
- Shoot. - Oh.
I'll get that for you.
Oh, my goodness.
Do you mind if I just lean on you?
- Sure, whatever you need. - Oh, thank you.
Oh. Thank you.
It has been a mess today.
I didn't eat. Had to park three blocks away.
It took me 15 minutes to put on these pants.
- Okay. - Oh, thank God.
- Here you go. - Thank you.
Ah.
Look at us. The walking wounded.
What happened to you?
On-the-job injury.
Sorry. What do you do?
- Government work. - In D.C.?
- No way.
How about you?
- Middle school teacher. - Ah.
Yeah. My students think this is hilarious.
- So what happened? - Oh, it involved
two piña coladas and a diving board.
I was more flexible in college.
Hey. We all were.
Mallory?
That is my cue.
- Let me get your bag for you. Hi. - Oh, thank you.
So we start with the torso.
Then we add the arms.
Next up, we have
the legs.
And then we have the head.
You forgot the, uh, the eyes, nose and mouth.
No, no, I didn't.
I'm sorry, there's no face in hangman, Nick.
Oh, wow. McGee already told you?
The man is not your friend. I'll just leave it at that.
You'll leave what at what?
Maybe I should just leave.
I asked Agent Torres to come down here and help me
identify some of these tats; I thought some of them
might be gang-related. - No, they're not.
Yeah. I know that now.
As for cause of death, no surprise there.
I am calling this one "Mail-order death."
What is this?
Found this embedded in one of the victims' thighs.
I think it might be a timing mechanism.
- Melted in the heat. - Right.
This bomb packed quite a punch, Gibbs.
Someone wanted Petty Officer Nicholas very dead.
Here's another one. Sheba is "soulless, vapid, shallow..."
"Disgraceful, shameful, embarrassing..."
"The most ratchet hair I've seen on a rich person"?
I guess fans saw through her act.
TV viewers can be pretty savvy.
Well, how did Delilah and I miss it?
- You missed what? - Well, boss, we're doing
a deep dive into the R-WOW forums looking for suspects.
The R-What?
Real Wives of War.
Turns out the Internet hates Sheba.
I agree with the Internet.
- What about the husband? - As a suspect or target?
Target.
You know that all SEALs undergo demolitions training.
Yeah, and full psych evals, McGee. A SEAL did not do this.
We found only four online threats against the husband.
All posted nine months ago
by the same person.
"Sheba deserves a better man
"than her warmongering husband, who needs to
die on the battlefield."
Oh, I've heard way worse than that.
"LLL..."
"LLLeonardo"?
Oh, real name is Leonard Finnik.
Lives in Baltimore. You want us to pay him a visit?
Oh, come on, guys. Anybody can say anything on the Internet.
I myself have posted major shade
on Shakira when she released She Wolf.
You remember the album, right, Gibbs?
I didn't have any federal agents asking me questions.
You drive safe, Torres.
Take McGee with you.
Two hours here and two hours home, and for what?
We got to turn every stone.
Come on, man. You look at this guy's file?
This guy's Mr. Normal.
Look, he's got a welcome mat.
No mad bomber in the history of mad bombers has a welcome mat.
And you know this how?
Everyone knows this.
Leonard? Federal agents.
We're coming in.
See, no Unabomber vibe here.
Eek. This guy does have bad taste in music, though.
Yeah, says the man who hates Shakira.
Hey, I love Shakira. I love Shakira.
Just venting.
Kitchen's clear.
So what'd you write her, exactly?
Bathroom's clear.
Tim, that is between me and Shakira.
Bedroom is clear.
Well, so much for Mr. Normal, huh?
"I know you've been watching me. I'm here whenever you want me.
We belong together forever."
Wow. Forever is
a very long time.
Do you want to tell Delilah, or should I?
Ha. No, these are from our suspect, Leonard Finnik.
He's been sending Sheba love letters for months.
And stuffed animals, too.
I thought maybe this can help with your investigation.
Wha-- you kept gifts from your stalker?
Well, a fan's a fan.
I'm sure you've read some of the things they say about me online.
I take what I can get.
Besides, you should read what Leonard
writes about my...
- Give me an update. - Oh, McGee was
just getting it.
Boss, Sheba brought in a box of letters
from Leonard Finnik.
He's got a bee in his bonnet for Petty Officer Nicholas.
Talks about how "the enemy must be vanquished,"
calls him the "villain SEAL."
And I've got another eight boxes in my trunk.
- Heavy boxes. - Oh, I got them.
Torres, handle it.
Uh, probably a better idea, boss.
You got a location?
No, not yet. Uh, Finnik has no record,
no car, no job.
- He have a cell phone? - Yes, but...
- Yes, but what? - Uh, yes.
Normally, we would ping it,
but that meeting you missed this morning?
No more pinging.
Find some other way to get ahold of Leonard.
Sure. I'll just use black magic.
Oh, come on, this could be so easy.
I'll just ping this one time and then never again.
What about "privacy outweighs security"?
- There are no atheists in foxholes. - Oh.
Vance never would've signed off on this.
Well, when he comes back, you should talk to him.
If he gets back, you mean.
Do you know something I don't?
All I know is that reentry is a bitch.
Yeah, I just finished.
How'd it go? Uh, it went well.
You're headed to work now, right?
No, no. I'm way too sore to go to work. Uh...
Dad, you promised.
Kayla, we're not gonna go through this again, okay?
Whatever. Bye. I told you, we...
Hello?
Just tell her pain is progress.
Hey, there. Um, Mallory, right?
Good memory. How'd your appointment go, uh...
Leon. Um...
Ava beat me up pretty good, but nothing I can't handle.
Oh, I'm sure you'll be running marathons in no time.
Maybe half-marathons. How are you?
I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines.
Still a long road ahead for me.
- Hmm. - Okay, Leon.
Nice working with you.
Um, you, too, uh, Ava.
What, are you, are you leaving?
No, you are.
- They didn't tell you? - No.
You graduated. No more PT for you.
Wow. Congratulations.
Well, thanks.
Um, I like your confidence, but I, um,
still have a little hitch in my get along here.
Some residual pain is normal.
But it shouldn't stop you getting back to your routine.
- You're cleared for work, too. - Huh. Uh...
Yeah. Because, uh...
because I-I really, I-I really feel like I could use
another-another week of PT.
Well, if you need it, you need it.
Okay.
All right. Same time tomorrow?
All right.
Every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in.
- Kase? - Gibbs, you're just in time.
Open the box.
What's in it?
A bomb.
Just open it.
My first bomb. Neat, huh?
Boom.
I built a replica
based on the components I found among the fragments.
There's the power source
and the trigger mechanism. - Photo cell.
Rigged to explode when it detects light.
Two caps, two fire-sets.
Redundancies to ensure detonation.
This guy knew what he was doing.
This guy?
Well, I assume all bombers are dudes.
Right. Never assume.
Yeah. And never say "dudes."
What else you got?
I analyzed this object
Jimmy found embedded in our victim's leg.
Metal alloy plated with 22-karat gold.
It came from our bomb, but I can't
figure out its function.
Ooh, and look at the back.
See how it's raised?
Maybe that part came from a clasp or a pin.
Call me crazy, but this looks like a brooch.
Oh, you're not exactly a brooch guy.
It's, um, it's a piece of jewelry,
like a clip, that you wear on your lapel.
Like a fancy, older lady might.
You know, it's probably not a brooch at all.
I should probably just keep working. Toodle-oo.
First, I had to track
Leonard's credit card to the stationery store.
Right? Then I had to go through the store's
parking lot surveillance security footage
to find the car he drove-- his mom's, by the way.
Then I had to sift through red light cameras
to track him to this barber shop.
It's called work, brah.
It's unnecessary work.
I could've just pinged him.
Rules are rules, Mr. Hangman.
- Look, hey, just bec... - McGee.
What's he carrying?
- Leonard. -Yes?
Federal agents.
Drop the box.
Wait, no.
Don't drop the box.
Right. Don't-don't drop the box.
Excuse me, everyone, federal agents.
Please calmly and quickly clear the area.
No, not you, Leonard.
You get back here. Don't move.
Bishop, bomb squad, Lemon and Fifth.
Bomb squad?
Wait, for this?
- Wait, wait, wait, wait. Stop, stop! - Don't! Get down!
Huh.
That's the Little Bighorn River,
and that's a pronghorn deer,
and an otter and, uh,
that's me and, uh...
Sheba and your love child.
Yeah, we've been over this.
Leonard.
I need to talk to you about your bedroom.
This is the hollowed-out log for fishing or, you know...
Leonard. Focus.
Bedroom.
Oh, do you like it? Sheba loves it.
- You talked to her? - Yeah.
She told me in a dream the other night.
No, she didn't.
Uh, were you there?
Dreams are not reality, Leonard.
You are so naive.
Okay. All right, explain this to me.
So this is you?
Right. Yeah, yeah.
That's Sheba.
Uh-huh. Pretty hair.
And that is a dead buffalo.
Correct. That's correct.
Who is the dead buffalo?
Is that Sheba's husband, Petty Officer Nicholas?
Leonard.
Did Sheba ask you to kill her husband in that dream?
Episode 33,
just after the commercial about the tortilla chips,
Sheba's white shirt isn't ironed.
And she just gives me the littlest nod, like so.
She goes...
Wow.
Yeah.
What does that mean?
It means nothing.
You don't think he's our guy?
His cord doesn't quite reach the outlet,
but I've read his file
and he has never shown a propensity towards violence
and I doubt he would start now.
So, should we go rescue Torres?
We got a problem.
Another mail bomb just detonated.
What? Where?
Alexandria. One dead.
Same M.O. as the first bomb
and this one came by one-hour delivery.
Leonard's been in here for two.
Yeah, which means...
We've got a serial bomber on the loose.
Two bombs, three victims. Will there be more?
That's the question paralyzing the city today
as pressure mounts on NCIS, which has taken the lead
in the investigation, even as the agency's director
remains on extended medic...
We don't make news. Update.
Second bombing victim was Patricia Everett.
48 years old, divorced, two kids in college.
Package was delivered via Global Courier's
one-hour delivery service.
Everett was the recipient.
- Who's the sender? - Fake. Just like the last one.
- What's the connection with our targets? - Nothing yet.
Uh, no mutual friends, no social media overlap
and no six degrees of Kevin Bacon and we've looked.
Look harder.
What if there is no connection?
What if the bomber is picking his targets from the phone book?
"Hey, Gibbs.
"Need to talk...
about second bomb."
Oh, wait. Oh, not a texter.
Ah.
Stupid.
- What we got? - Oh.
We can do this again if you'd like.
No, um, sorry.
Uh, so I ran a chemical analysis
and was able to confirm both bombs
were built by the same person.
Both contained identical isomers
of nitrocellulose, trinitrobenzene
and acetone peroxide.
TNB? That's military ordinance.
Oh, yes, indeed. Oh, also,
I found a second brooch,
which, if you recall, a brooch is a... - Yeah. Yeah, yeah, I recall.
Again, I can find no function that this serves
in the bomb.
It's the bomber's signature.
Okay, yeah, well, what's he trying to say with it?
Budweiser.
Budweiser?
Thank you.
What happened exactly?
Kasie Hines, no, no.
You stay here.
You're gonna find out what happened soon enough.
The Budweiser.
The coveted trident pin
awarded to all Navy SEALs upon graduation.
And you think that's a melted trident?
The bombs are SEAL related.
But we've been over this.
Pat Everett has no connection to the Navy.
And we vetted all 20 Navy SEALs
that were in Petty Officer Nicholas's graduating class.
What about the ones who rang out?
It's a bigger list. Hold on.
Um...
204 candidates washed out.
How many made it through demolition training?
That should narrow it down.
Only 16.
How many of those 16 failed their psych eval?
Only one.
Put him up.
Hmm. David West.
He washed out about four months ago.
Now lives in West Virginia where he works security at a mall.
Look at that.
The psychologist that administered West's psych eval
was a Dr. Patrick Everett.
Sound familiar?
The second bomb victim was Patricia Everett.
Can't be a coincidence.
Either our bomber really hates the Everett family...
Don't know if they're related.
...or he killed the wrong Pat Everett.
Where is West right now?
Pinging his cell phone.
Boss, let me just say that I think
this new nonpinging policy sucks.
McGee, we got the mall.
Bishop, Torres, take his house.
Let's go.
Hi.
How are you, Kayla?
Oh. I-I called Gibbs.
And he called me. How's your dad?
Not great.
It's like he's lost his mojo or something.
Well, we'll have to help him get it back.
Yeah.
Jack?
- Hey, Leon. How you doing? - Hey. Okay.
- Good to see you. - You, too.
You, too. Oh.
Handy. Oh, shoot.
Home improvement project.
I got a sticky window in the guest room.
Something else in this house won't budge.
And to what do we owe this visit?
Was just in the area, wanted to see how you're doing.
I'm better every day.
I'm looking forward to getting back into the office.
Mm-hmm.
You weren't "in the area," were you?
And you're not "better every day," are you?
And I have you to thank for this?
Who wants coffee? I do.
Thank you.
So, tell me everything. What's happening?
Yeah, why don't we skip all the pleasantries
and you can tell me why you're really here?
Okay. Want to just rip that Band-Aid off fast?
Fine with me.
You were tricked by a terrorist, Leon.
You made a bad decision that nearly cost thousands of lives
and now you are coping with that mistake
by practicing avoidance and social withdrawal.
How about that?
I am rehabbing my hip.
That's all.
That's blame shifting. Normal defense mechanism
for someone in your condition, by the way.
Jack, I'm fine.
No, you're afraid.
You don't trust your instincts anymore.
Not good for someone
who makes life or death decisions every day
and that fear can be paralyzing, Leon.
I always thought that psychologists
would examine their patients
before providing diagnosis.
Ah, no, we don't have time for that,
so I just thought I'd skip to the end.
And I'm sure you have just the right prescription.
As a matter of fact, I do.
In my professional opinion...
you need to get your ass back in the saddle.
Thanks for stopping by, Jack.
Leon, listen.
Hey. You want a real project
to do around the house?
The agency that you lead
is trying to stop a serial bomber.
Everything you need to know about the suspect.
David West?
Wait. NCIS!
Mr. West, we just have a few questions!
Easy, easy, easy.
Gun!
Okay. I don't think he wants to talk to us.
He can talk to my SIG.
- Ready? One... - Yeah.
...two... - Nick.
Go. Go!
Go!
Okay. SWAT team's on the way.
Gibbs and McGee are coming back from the mall.
- They should be here any minute. All right? - All right.
Now, let me take a look at this.
Ow, ow.
Ooh...
How bad is it?
Uh, it's not great, Nick. Ooh.
- Oh, Bishop! - Shrapnel's in there pretty deep.
Oh, that's peachy.
Okay.
Cut it out.
You're not serious.
Yes, I'm serious. Cut it out.
- No, Nick. - This guy tried to kill me, okay?
I'm about to try to kill him,
but I can't do it with that thing in my back,
so just-just dig it out. - Okay.
Fine. You're an idiot.
Wait, what's that for?
I'm sterilizing my tool. Here.
Bite onto this.
Oh. Oh, we're doing this.
Can you make up your mind already?
Well, I'm just saying
that maybe-maybe that guy is gone.
I-I didn't hear him shoot for, like, a little bit.
Oh, the guy is gone. Are you...
What are you doing? What are you doing?
He's still there.
That was my favorite hat.
Can... are we gonna do this or what?
- Okay, I'm ready. I'm ready, I'm ready. - Okay.
- One, two... - Hey, Torres.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!
- The cavalry's here. - What?
- What is he doing? - Uh, no idea.
Where did he go?
Where's Gibbs?
Okay, I got him, boss.
Bishop and Torres?
Oh, they're okay.
Bishop!
Torres!
Cease fire, we're on the way out!
Nice hat.
In times of war and uncertainty,
there is a special breed of
warrior ready to answer our nation's call.
A common man with an uncommon desire to succeed...
Director Vance. Special Agent Gibbs.
Good to see you.
Good to be here.
...special breed of warrior
ready to answer our nation's call.
The Navy SEAL creed.
He's been reciting it for the last hour.
He built his whole life around becoming a SEAL.
When he washed out, he had nothing to fall back on.
You read his file.
Three times.
My word is my bond.
I've had some time on my hands.
...and be led. In the absence of orders,
I will take charge,
lead my teammates and accomplish the mission.
I lead by example in all situations.
I will never quit. I persevere and thrive
on adversity. My nation
expects me to...
You recognize that?
Maybe you don't, since you never earned one,
but it's a Budweiser, trident pin.
It's a real one,
unlike the knockoffs you purchased
at the Navy surplus store and packed into your mail bombs.
Sorry. Budweisers are for SEALs only.
And you washed out.
Dr. Everett made a mistake,
sir.
So you sent him a bomb?
Along with one to Petty Officer Nicholas,
who red-flagged you for a psych exam?
They got what they deserved, ma'am.
No, they didn't.
Nicholas is still alive, and you killed the wrong Everett.
Mission failed.
You win some, you lose some.
The hell is he so smug about?
Why don't you go find out?
You read his file...
three times.
Director Vance, welcome Ba--
Where's he going?
Are you having a good time?
Sir?
You want to tell me what's so funny?
We train for war and fight to win.
I stand ready to bring the full spectrum of combat power
to bear in order to achieve
my mission and the goals established by my country.
You've been looking at your watch a lot.
Are you late for something, David?
The execution of my abilities will be swift
and violent when required...
Or am I?
...the very principles that I serve to defend.
Brave men have fought and died building the proud tradition...
You sent a third bomb, didn't you?
Who is the third target?
Who is it?
Who else wronged you?
Could it have been another SEAL classmate?
20 of them graduated.
Yeah, go.
That's a nice tan line.
Where's the ring?
David, you just got married. Where's your wedding band?
Thanks.
It's the wife.
Gwen Eisley. Married five months ago.
She walked out on you, huh?
Where's she staying?
She at her mother's house in Alexandria?
Or maybe she's staying at her brother's in Philly?
Or she's staying at her sister's in Middleburg?
Sister's in Middleburg.
Don't play poker in prison, David.
You have a tell.
Leave a message.
What?
So the wife finally answered her cell?
Fifth time's a charm.
How'd she react to the news
her hubby mailed her a bomb?
She asked if she could "return to sender."
Ah, McGee, look.
...and coming up tonight on Real Wives of War,
Sheba radiates in red.
Oh, whoa. Trouble in paradise?
You know what? I think I'm done with The Real Wives of War.
Good for you. Yeah.
You can do better things with your life.
Totally agree.
There's this new show about cops in Miami Beach...
McGee.
Not where you were going with that?
- Okay. - He's back, baby.
- Hey. - Can't keep me down.
How was surgery?
Oh, it was a breeze.
Shrapnel's all out.
Told you it was just a flesh would.
Ah. So I could've cut it out.
Oh, no, that was a real bad idea.
Yeah, that's what I said.
30 seconds.
You'll be happy, I promise.
- Doubt it. - One word: ping.
You took away his superpower.
Because you didn't let me finish my presentation.
Yes, the Supreme Court
banned warrantless cell location tracking...
AKA no ping.
...which is why we have arranged for three on-call judges
to provide near-instantaneous warrants should the need arise.
- Hm. - Wait, what does that mean?
Means we are back in business, baby.
You're welcome.
She's very sweet.
- Yeah. - Very.
Yeah, when she's nice like that, yeah.
Okay, Cameron, I'll see you Thursday.
Hey, Leon, you can change in back.
Oh, uh, actually, Ava, I'm not
taking therapy today,
or ever, I'm, uh, I'm canceling my appointments.
Cancel the appointments you demanded?
Requested.
But you were right, my range of motion's good,
and I can continue the exercises at home.
Okay, I'll cancel them.
You know, you could've just called.
I was in the neighborhood.
Uh-huh. I don't think she's here yet.
Who?
Well, well, well.
Leon.
But no, uh, no more cast.
Nope, just the crutches now. What about you?
I barely notice a limp.
I graduated. No more PT.
- Oh, congratulations. - Thank you.
Well, good luck with your life, I guess.
Hey, um...
How would you...
How would you like to, um, see each other,
somewhere that's not here?
- I'd like that. - Great.
Waterskiing, mountain climbing, what do you think?
Or we could just do dinner tonight.
Dinner sounds good. Give me your phone.
My phone? Why?
- So I can put my number in it. - Oh, geez.
I'm a little... little rusty here.
So any, um, any requests for dinner?
How about someplace without stairs?
Duly noted. Ground-floor restaurant.
All right.
- I'll-I'll call you. - Okay.
- Bye. - Bye.
Nice work.
Thank you.
What's your assessment?
I don't know yet, but I will.
Hm.
Well done.
How long are we surveilling him?
As long as it takes.
Enjoy your dinner.
Hey.
You forgetting something?
You don't want to make that mistake tonight.
You worry about you. I'll worry about me.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man