See? Shortcut through the park will be working.
You just doubled your tip.
It's Kirkland.
No, my car broke down. I had to take a cab.
I should be there in 20. Have Bob start the presentation.
Yeah.
Use the laser pointer.
The GAO guys are distracted by shiny things.
That will keep them busy. Be there soon.
[DRIVER SPEAKS IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE]
Be passing us already.
What the hell? Come on, come on.
Go, go.
[GRUNTS, GUNSHOTS]
Oh, oh, oh!
[TYRES SCREECH]
[GUNSHOT]
No, no, no, it's not you. It's just...
Well, you know, these things run their course and...
Well, you, you must accept that--
Personal call, David?
Yes. Go away.
TONY: Somebody being dumped?
Oh.
How do you tell someone you no longer want to see them?
Easy.
Listen, dirtbag, this is Ziva's husband.
I have your phone number now. I can find your address.
If you ever try to contact her again, I will reach down your throat,
grab your intestines, rip them and drive over your head.
Lose this number or lose your life.
- You're welcome. - That was Aunt Nettie from Tel Aviv.
She was trying to stop seeing her 86-year-old mahjong partner.
Why didn't you stop me?
Too stunned.
Where do I send flowers?
If you communicate with her again, I will kill you.
McGEE: Is it always this bright in here?
Wait a second. I recognise that look.
You had sex, and I'm guessing it was with a girl.
- No. - No, it wasn't a girl?
McGEE: No, it's none of your business.
If the probie was probing last night, I demand details.
Actually, it was this morning.
And it wasn't sex. It was coffee.
And it was good.
The coffee or the sex?
It wasn't sex. I met a nice girl.
We're hitting it off. That's all.
Where'd you meet?
Moved into my building a few days ago. Right across the hall.
Proximity. That's convenient.
Very. Mm-mm.
[PHONE RINGING]
Wow. McGee is getting some.
Get it out of our head, DiNozzo.
Gear up. We got a dead one.
You know, repeated head trauma causes brain damage.
Explains a lot.
- Is this side of my head bigger? - Yes, but so is the other side.
[ZIVA CHUCKLING]
[INDISTINCT POLICE RADIO CHATTER]
TONY: Bonnie and Clyde.
[CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING]
ZIVA: Who and what? Heh. TONY: The movie.
1967.
Warren Beatty, Faye Dunaway.
It's a classic tale of crime and punishment.
Focus on this crime scene, DiNozzo.
Nine-millimetre cartridges.
It's not a robbery.
Cash box is still under the seat.
Credit cards are here too.
Rear Admiral Kenneth Kirkland.
Worked at the Pentagon.
The driver's name, "Atif?"
Atif Nukunda.
Gesundheit.
Address listed as D.C.
Tyre tracks. Single alignment.
Looks like a motorcycle.
Top choice of assassins who often dump their weapons.
Look, Ziva.
- Duck. - Well, this was no traffic accident.
- No kidding. - Little doubt they were killed here.
Cause of death: multiple gunshots.
Any one of which could have been fatal.
- Time? - That's not gonna be a problem.
Onboard digital surveillance camera's probably time-stamped.
Let's see it, DiNozzo.
What? You got a problem?
- Well, McGee has the cable and-- - McGee.
TONY: See, normally, I have the cable and McGee has the other bag.
Recorded straight onto a flash drive, probably on a 15-minute loop.
Let's see the last recorded images here.
At 9:23, first shot was fired.
Cab crashed seven seconds later.
ZIVA: A turkey shoot. TONY: Fish in a barrel.
DiNozzo, find out where the admiral was coming from,
headed to, who knew about it.
If any of those files are missing...
All right, I'll take care of it.
That lipstick on your collar, McGee?
[SIGHS]
Well...
Good for you, Tim. Good for you.
Just don't ever get married.
[RINGTONE PLAYING]
- Hello? WOMAN [OVER PHONE]: Mr. McGee,
- I'm calling to confirm your sofa order. - I didn't order a sofa.
[WOMAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]
Yeah, that's my credit card number.
Rear Admiral Kirkland's credited
with several innovative efficiency programmes at the Pentagon.
Involved in developing the Ready-Rapid Deployment model
for moving massive amounts of assets with minimum delays.
Possible target for terrorists?
The admiral hasn't left dry land since '02.
Not exactly a high-value al Qaeda target.
Any admiral is a high-value target.
Taxi?
Kirkland was heading from home to attend a budget meeting at the GAO.
- No government car? - Broke down on 14th Street.
His aide stayed with the car, admiral called a cab.
- Why through the park? - Three-car pile-up on Connecticut.
- Driver was trying to make up time. - Sabotage?
No. We checked the Pentagon surveillance tapes.
- Nobody touched the car before it left. GIBBS: Files?
Staff checked his briefcase. Nothing was missing.
GIBBS: Personal? - No enemies, loving family.
Devoted wife.
- No large insurance policies. - No motive.
Every murder has a motive, McGee.
Not this one.
I thought you were quitting.
I did. It's no caffeine, no kick.
I could suck down like a half dozen of these babies, no ill effects.
Gibbs, I'm steel.
No, I am okay. I am better than okay, way better.
From the taxi, bullets.
The slug on the right is a 9 millimetre,
full metal jacket, high velocity.
You see by its deformation that it went through metal, glass.
The other one?
Also 9 millimetre, but just a standard hollow point.
The striations on the rounds indicated they were using silencers.
Casings?
Ejection port marks show that you're looking for a Glock or a Beretta.
You should really try this, Gibbs. It'll change your life.
Motorcycle.
The tread on the bike was only offered as an option
on the Yamaha R-6 series.
No hits on the sales record yet, indicating that the bike
may have been purchased overseas and then brought across the border.
- All that, no caffeine. - Crime scene.
I'm working on some fresh oil drops that were found near the tyre tracks.
GIBBS: Cab took a detour. Car must have followed him.
Or they could have hacked
into the taxi's onboard navigation system and were waiting.
Ambush.
Okay. Can I just have one little teeny, tiny, baby booster sip, please?
No.
- Thank you, sir. - Welcome.
McGee, garage, now.
McGEE: Boss, the navigation system was definitely hackable.
All they would have needed
was the car's VIN number and the owner's address.
He could have requested a diagnostic test
and captured and cloned the signal.
- Who hacked it? McGEE: No way to tell.
The signal doesn't ghost
and there's no recording of GPS markers after the fact.
Does anyone have any answers?
- Ziva? - No.
Ziva doesn't have any answers, boss.
[CELL PHONE RINGS]
Yeah, Duck? I'm on my way up.
[SCANNER WHIRRING, BELL DINGS]
You look into the cab company.
[RINGTONE PLAYING]
Hey, I can't really...
I can't really talk right now.
Sure, you can, probie. You can talk right now.
Go away.
- Put her on speaker, probie. - Get out of here.
WOMAN [OVER PHONE]: Timmy?
[WHISPERS] Probie. WOMAN: Tim?
McGEE: There's something...
Oh, look at him. He's all grown up, having his first fight.
Now, where did you get my credit card number?
- From your credit card bill. - You opened my mail?
Well, yeah. Sorry, is that okay?
Listen, I need to go, but we'll talk about this later, okay?
Okay. Have a good day.
- You too. - Bye.
[WHISPERING] I'll see you later, Bumby.
[MAKES KISSING SOUND]
Bumby?
Well, we can't all be called probie, can we?
What do you got, Duck?
A bullet from the frontal lobe of your rear admiral.
Both bodies received multiple rounds from a variety of ranges and angles.
Indicating?
Well, the first projectiles struck them after deflecting off metal or glass.
And they were followed by two close contact wounds with stippling,
indicating that they were shot execution-style.
- Okay, that's it? - No, no, no.
Come here. Take a look at this.
What am I looking at?
Between the second bicuspid and second molar, lower left.
Missing tooth?
Freshly extracted.
And the lack of bleeding around the gum tissue
indicates that it was postmortem.
There was no tooth in his throat or in his stomach,
so he didn't swallow it.
And there was no tooth at the crime scene.
They pulled his tooth?
Well, they could have used a pair of pliers.
It's a crude if effective means of extraction.
- Anything taken from our admiral? - No, no, no.
But I found something really interesting
on the driver's right hand.
What is that?
Abby ran the analysis. It's a fingerprint salve.
Invisible until it's pressed on paper.
Fingerprints and tooth pulled. DNA.
Two of the best ways to identify a body.
Yeah, your rear admiral wasn't the target, Jethro.
No.
The cab driver was.
The dead driver's name was Atif Nukunda.
Immigrated here seven years ago from Burundi, in East Africa,
after his name was found on a death-squad list.
A political refugee.
Employment records show he worked two jobs: cab and pizza-delivery driver.
About 85 hours a week.
- Land of opportunity. - Check his address.
Metro Police have been there, done that. Vacant lot.
Attacks on other cab drivers in the past 60 days.
Already working on it.
DiNozzo, check out the cab company.
Go to, boss.
"Go to." It's the new "on it."
New catch phrase. Just came up with it. You like it?
No. Cab company?
On it, boss.
Go to.
McGee, what do you got?
Well, boss, the time-stamp footage of the killings
enabled us to track all cell calls made from the park
in the two minutes after the shooting. Ten calls in all. One that stands out.
It's a high-density bandwidth transmission.
Almost certainly a video file.
Someone filmed the execution.
Proof of death.
Call is made from a prepaid cell phone, then sent to a router in East Africa.
- Lost it there. - Find it.
Well, it went to a series of public pay phones,
all of which were answered.
It's impossible to tell which line was actually the intended number.
Whoever these guys are, boss, they're very good.
But so are we.
Nukunda's dead, Mr. Bayliss.
Oh, my God. Really dead?
- What happened? - Have you not missed him?
No, he works the morning shift, so usually he's sleeping all day long.
Where? In his cab?
In his apartment.
ZIVA: Fake address. - Really? Wow, that is weird.
You know, I can't figure out if you're DeVito in Taxi
or De Niro in Taxi Driver.
[CHUCKLES]
- What? - Your acting.
I worked transit detail in Baltimore for two years. Come on.
Okay, Nukunda was off-book.
- Off-book? - Off-book.
It means he worked for himself, not just the cab company.
It also means he required an illegal hack licence.
Because there's a lot of places the cab drivers won't go in the city.
So we let the gypsies work those areas,
service the public, everybody wins.
The dead cab driver was not a gypsy.
- What? - No.
Gypsy means a cab driver who works for himself off-book.
It's also a great way to take advantage
of immigrants who are desperate for work, isn't it?
Dude, look, all I know is that the guy worked his ass off, okay?
He never invited me to his house, so I don't know where he lives.
I just can't help you out.
Listen, dude, every dispatcher knows every driver
and everything about them, so...
[OVER LOUDSPEAKER] I can have the taxi commission
come down here and talk to you guys,
because I know they'd like to meet every one of you.
- And I will-- BAYLISS: Wait. Whoa, whoa.
Look, okay, the Burundi drivers,
they hang out at a little café on 18th Street, Northwest.
A little tip. Lime juice.
It cuts that just-barfed-on, back-seat smell, smelly guy.
Ha.
How long have you been in this country?
Why?
Well, you never heard of gypsy cabs, you don't use contractions.
Assimilate already.
What are contraptions?
Never mind.
ABBY: There's definitely a photo missing.
Any way to tell what was there?
Would I have you down here to watch me fail?
Silver bromide particles
on any positive print leave minute traces on any surface
when they're combined with compression and heat.
Like, say, a wallet being sat on for 10 hours a day in a hot taxi.
Abbycadabra, your picture from the cadaver.
Oh.
That's sad.
Why would they take the family photo?
More proof they got the right guy. Any good news?
Yes, the oil.
Not from the taxi, but from the motorcycle.
I was able to determine the exact viscosity and degradation.
And I found microscopic metal shavings in it.
- Trace the bike? - Not exactly.
Well, actually, not at all.
But if you find the motorcycle,
then I can positively place it at the murder scene.
Unless they changed the oil.
Unless they changed the oil. Hmm.
This is a gift for you. It's decaf.
I sleep at night.
I actually eat food.
It is so weird. You've gotta try it.
Abs...
Don't let that hurt your feelings.
[CHATTERING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE]
[CHATTERING STOPS ABRUPTLY]
You speak Burundi?
The official language is Kirundi and French.
But these people speak English.
They just don't wanna speak it with us.
NCIS. Federal agents.
Looking for anybody who knows this man, his family, where he lives.
Tell you, this is the hack section.
I'm just guessing.
And your work visas are in order?
Because I hate paperwork, so how about a little help here?
MAN: May I see the photograph, please?
I know the man you are looking for,
but his name is not Nukunda.
ABAKA: You must forgive them.
Where they come from,
agents of the government seldom bring good news.
Well, we have questions.
ABAKA: Even worse.
These are delicious.
Then I won't tell you what they are made from.
[CHUCKLES]
Mr. Abaka, you say you're a professor?
At Waverly University. I teach African Studies there.
How long you been in this country?
Seven years.
Same as our dead cab driver.
The same as many people in here.
It was a time of unrest and upheaval in the region.
Thousands of us came here looking for freedom and safety.
It is unfortunate that this man and his family only found death.
Someone must know where his family is.
If they're in hiding, no.
- What's his real name? ABAKA: I don't know.
We keep secrets because secrets keep us alive.
We don't put people in jail for cooperating,
but we do put them in jail for not cooperating.
- Tony. - I have been tortured in prison.
I am not afraid of your legal system.
How do you feel about deportation?
Tony.
I will ask.
But it is not in their culture to cooperate with the government.
They're too afraid.
He is lying about something. He looked suspicious.
They all look suspicious.
I'm surprised you could understand him, Ziva.
He spoke perfect English.
You're xenophobic.
I am not X ena-phobic.
It's one of my favourite shows.
Leather skirts, lesbian sword fighting, female empowerment.
Maybe I'm a little Ziva-phobic.
Did you see what I see?
Crazy Israeli chick with impulse issues?
The reflection.
Oh, we could go ask him who he's calling.
Or we can have McGee ask for us.
McGEE: Okay, triangulating all traffic from the towers closest to Café Butu.
Narrowing it down to all outgoing calls at the time Abaka made his call.
Less narration, McGee.
Tracing.
Look at that.
It's incredible, probie's lips are still moving
while he's working.
He's like one of those Romanian orphans
who can't stop rocking.
You are so prejudiced.
I am not.
I'm not. By the way, that's a contraction: I'm.
You should try it some time.
Got it. Ha.
Beat my old record by two seconds.
The cell number is listed to Delphin Abaka of Georgetown.
Who did he call?
McGEE: The Wilmont Hotel, Room 234.
Currently occupied by a Sayda Zuri.
African.
Accessing immigration files.
ZIVA: Probably Burundian.
Cab driver's wife, maybe?
She came through customs two days ago from Burundi.
Restricted travel visa.
- DiNozzo. - Picking her up, boss.
Found her.
I have come to claim my husband's body.
His name is Thomas.
Thomas Zuri.
Did he change it when he got here?
Many times.
I don't know what he calls himself now.
But he'll always be Thomas to me.
You said he came from Burundi seven years ago?
Yes.
But according to immigration records,
this is the first time you have been here.
Why?
The situation in Burundi is very complicated, miss.
I have not been free to come before now.
But it seems I am too late.
I am sorry for your loss.
Who told you to come to us?
A friend called me.
Professor Abaka?
He has been helping me to try and find Thomas.
We are soul mates, Thomas and I.
Have you met your soul mate, miss?
You will know the minute you do.
[DOOR OPENS]
Ziva, ready.
No. This is not Thomas.
- Yes, well, there's considerable-- - May I see his body?
Thomas was tortured.
This man has no scars. No.
This is not my husband.
You gotta be kidding me.
Fifteen thousand dollars?
Twenty-five--?
GIBBS: ls something wrong, McGee?
Computer glitch.
[COMPUTER BEEPING]
Better?
Much.
GIBBS: Where's Ziva? ZIVA: Right behind you.
There have been 11 attacks on cab drivers
in the past 60 days in the D.C. and Maryland area.
Three of them are very interesting.
DiNozzo, put them up.
All three were shot with a 9 millimetre
and all three autopsies showed a tooth missing.
- Enlarge the photos. - Ah.
Ah-ah-ah. Oh.
Come on, tell me you just didn't lose all that information.
[WHISPERS] McGee.
I hit the space bar.
Just push the buttons I tell you to push, monkey.
- Love is not treating you well, friend. - Yeah, no kidding.
Bring up our John Doe from the morgue.
Anybody see what I see?
- Black males. - All in their mid-to-late 40s.
All local cab drivers. None of them work for the same company, though.
Vitals?
ZIVA: Similar age, similar height, similar weight.
They all have shaved heads and facial hair.
Bad guys don't know exactly what their target looks like now.
They only have a general description.
Seven years, a long time. People change.
Would explain the teeth pulling and the videos.
DiNozzo, how many cab drivers in D.C. fit this general description?
Huh.
Well, I'd say dozens.
Thomas was a storekeeper.
He had no interest in politics.
But his words were so eloquent, so passionate,
that his message spread from village to village.
He became a symbol of hope
against a system of injustice and corruption.
Extremists saw him as a threat.
Privately, many in the government did not care if he died.
That was seven years ago. What's changed?
There is a growing movement against the old ways.
Some people are openly calling for him
to return and lead the new People's Party.
His enemies fear he will do exactly that.
I have been told they have sent people here to kill him.
You came to warn him.
Yes.
How did your husband get here?
He was smuggled out of the country by your embassy in Burundi.
- Our government brought him here? - Yes.
You see, Thomas was pro-American.
That is why the extremists hate him.
Why did you stay?
I could not leave my family, miss.
My father was dying.
Thomas felt that if he left,
the extremists would no longer be threatened by him.
He was right. They left me alone.
A year after he left, I received this.
No postmark.
It was smuggled to me by the embassy.
He writes that he is working in Washington, driving a taxi.
That he misses me.
That he wants me to join him in America.
And then?
SAYDA: Then there was another civil war.
I never received another letter.
The embassy could no longer help me.
And now they have come for him.
I know men like these.
They will not stop until they are sure my husband is dead.
- We need something from you. - Anything.
The name of the embassy official who helped him get away.
Are you aware that I no longer work for the State Department, director?
Mr. Choyce, are you aware that the State Department
and NCIS are part of the same government?
I doubt if there's anything I can do to help you.
You smuggled Thomas Zuri out of Burundi seven years ago.
You set him up in D.C.
Gave him a new identity.
- Don't know what you're talking about. GIBBS: Talking about saving a life.
Maybe several.
I wish I could help.
Sit down. You're not done yet.
You're a consultant now, with an Asian-based oil company.
What do you think would happen to your value in the private sector
if I were to call ZNN and tell them you refused to help us
solve the murder of a United States Naval officer?
An admiral.
Off the record.
Zuri walked away.
Happens all the time.
Once we get a political asset into the country,
we hold on to them in case we need them in the future.
Zuri was very helpful.
But often the assets don't like the restrictions,
so they leave the programme.
We have no control over that.
Zuri left.
That was five years ago.
How do we find him?
Anything I tell you is a violation of the agreement we had with him.
I am sure he will understand.
I don't know where he is.
Last known address.
Look, he changed his address often.
All I can give you is where I know he lived five years ago.
Do you understand? Stop laughing. It's not funny.
What's not funny, McGee?
- Nothing. Personal. - Well, don't tell me about it.
I want you to visit the State Department's
Strategic Analysis Unit.
Visit? I'm gonna need clearance.
- Visit. - Visit.
"Visit" visit, that kind of visit. Okay.
What exactly am I looking for?
Oil in Burundi.
I don't think there's oil in Burundi.
Well, yeah, that's why I want you to look.
[TYPING]
[GROANS]
And run this.
Last known address for Tommy Zuri.
Okay. Multitasking, boss.
TONY: Take my money, take my money, take my money.
Give me my candy. Uhn!
You cannot buck the system, Tony.
Trade bucks with me?
If you stop forcing things, they will come to you.
Thank you, Obi-Wan.
Why don't you like immigrants?
[CHUCKLES] What?
My great-grandparents came through Ellis Island.
Not the first class lounge at El Al.
I came here in the jump seat of a C-130 with turbulence.
Whatever. My point is, you're here on a weekend fun pass.
I'm the immigrant.
My family came here with nothing.
Just loads of charm, talent and great looks.
My great-grandfather drove a truck for $2 a day.
Took him 20 years to start his own transportation company.
And now their great-grandson is an NCIS agent.
So don't tell me about the immigrant experience.
Until you are one.
Any of that true?
Parts.
Is this stuck in my teeth?
Nothing sticks to you.
[PACKAGE DROPS]
Do you ever think about soul mates?
They were on Decca, right?
Big hit mid-'70s.
Sort of a disco thing.
Sing a few bars, I'll get it.
You'll never get it.
McGEE [QUIETLY]: Boss, I did that thing you told me to do.
You don't have to whisper. I don't care who hears.
[LOUDER] Want me to tell you how--? - Nope.
Because I can give you the short-- Forget I asked.
Classified satellite recon photos
of a petroleum exploration firm linked to China.
Doing drilling in the Dajee region of Burundi.
They find anything?
Considering the money they poured into the region, yes.
Oil.
And guess who still has top-level clearance in the State Department?
Choyce. He's still working for them.
Not as an employee, but as a consultant.
Plausible deniability.
You run that address Choyce gave us?
Yeah, construction site. New condos.
Original building was demolished two years ago.
Guess Zuri moved on, found a new place to live.
Four drivers, four different cab companies.
McGEE: Nothing in common? - All attacked at different times of day.
Time of death of the first driver?
[TYPING, COMPUTER CHIRPS]
Two-thirty in the morning,
which was 90 minutes after he clocked out.
Second driver?
Nine forty-five in the evening, two hours after he logged off.
None were officially working when attacked.
Boss, in two of the attacks, the cabs had passengers.
In each case, including the admiral's, the passengers called for a cab.
They didn't just hail it on the street.
Someone had to have dispatched it, even if it was off the records.
Meaning Bayliss, the cab company dispatcher.
He was working when every attack happened.
Probably used a bypass to channel the calls.
- Bayliss did not report to work today. - Address.
Yeah, got it.
GIBBS: NCIS.
Warrant.
- Clear. McGEE: Clear.
DiNozzo, McGee.
- Ziva, pick it. - No problem.
Fives and tens. Kerb cash.
What's kerb cash?
Fares. Small denominations.
- Street money. - Kickbacks.
Lollipop from McLoverboy.
Are those real?
No, fakes. But they're really good fakes.
The guy's a regular cab coyote.
Is that like a wolf in sheep's clothing?
A person who exploits people that come to this country illegally.
As opposed to outsourcing, which is what you are.
[CLATTERING]
[CREAKING]
TONY: Oh!
TONY: That's Bayliss.
ZIVA: Attic space. He must have been hiding.
Been shot. Still warm, boss.
Boss, M.P.D. shut down a 12-block perimeter around Bayliss' apartment.
Nothing. Got a BOLO out on the Yamaha.
Traffic cams?
Lost the bike after three blocks. They took side streets.
How'd they know about Bayliss?
McGee, trace his bank records and personnel files from State.
And find out who the hell Choyce called after he left here.
- DiNozzo. - Boss?
Bring him in.
Ziva, get Sayda.
[RINGTONE PLAYING]
- Yes? MAN: Mr. McGee,
this is Coastal Credit--
No, I told you, I don't wanna give you her name.
I just wanna cancel my credit cards.
ABBY: Fifty-seven, 58, 59, 60.
McGEE: Why would you send the IRS after me?
I haven't done anything.
- It's your credit card. ABBY: McGee.
This is fraud.
Yeah?
Did you know that it's 365 steps from my lab to your desk?
[ABBY SIGHS]
I'm trying to get my blood pumping. What's wrong with you?
Nothing.
Okay, this is the new caffeine-free, non-jittery Abby.
Still waters, deep.
You're hiding something and I seek it. Speak.
I've been seeing this girl.
Oh, that's nice.
No, actually, it's not nice.
She stole my mail and took out $65,000
in pre-approved credit cards in my name.
Wow, you have really good credit.
FICA score of 750. Well, was.
So this is, like, the best-worst love story ever?
Abby, what do I do?
It's like I'm nuts for this girl, you know?
And she's just nuts.
She stole your heart. She stole your money.
Arrest her.
That's the thing. That's what she wants.
She admitted everything to me.
That is a cheque for $65,000.
Yeah, her father's Earnest Leonard. He's worth billions.
She does this for fun.
She's been arrested twice.
She steals people's money. She buys things.
The crazy ones are the best.
[SIGHS]
See, the weird thing is, I kind of dig it, you know?
Okay, love is never having to read her her Miranda rights.
But she's gonna do this to somebody else.
Throw her psycho ass in the brig.
I love you, McGee.
That should be enough.
One, two, three, four, five, six...
Shall we try this again?
Has something changed?
Oh, you might say that.
Recognise these?
My banking details.
This is outrageous. How did you get these?
Warrant. And this is what we found.
Two deposits, one for $100,000,
the second for $150,000
from a bank in Burundi.
Now, we're still following the paper trail.
But I think we all know where it's going to take us, don't we, Mr. Choyce?
To Burundi political extremists with well-oiled pockets.
You sold them information about Zuri.
I want a deal before I say anything else.
First, the truth. Then a deal.
CHO YCE: Look, I didn't sell them anything useful.
It was information from years ago.
Old addresses and phone numbers, that's all.
He was paranoid.
He moved six times in the first year. There's no way they could find him.
Was one of these old phone numbers
used by a taxi dispatcher named Bayliss?
Zuri only drove cabs for a couple of months years ago.
Then he quit.
Wrong. He went gypsy, off the books.
You gave them Bayliss' name. Bayliss is dead.
Gotta believe he told them where to find Zuri.
Oh, my God.
How did you communicate with them?
They contacted me.
By a phone?
Prepaid cell. They called me.
Non-traceable. I tried.
Name.
[EXHALES]
Tie him to Burundi terrorism, send him to Gitmo.
No lawyer, no phone.
Good luck with that deal.
Delphin Abaka.
McGEE: No luck, boss. Abaka's off the grid.
He's a damn teacher at a university, McGee.
McGEE: He also served in the Burundi Army
20 years ago and hasn't been teaching since last semester.
Guess when he realised we were involved,
he tried to use Sayda to find out what we knew.
We probably know less than he does.
The DMV needs a thumbprint to get a driver's licence.
That means Zuri's in the system.
If we can match his prints to DMV records,
we can get his current alias and address.
Nice try, probie. If Zuri's still out there, he's got his fake hack licence with him.
Sorry, I already looked.
I think I know where we can get a fingerprint.
Sayda's locket.
ABBY: Scanning.
Okay.
Let's see what we got.
It's a partial right thumb.
Degraded by age,
but I have enough whirls and deltas to get eight points.
How long is this going to take, madam?
- You know, it's hard to tell. GIBBS: Tell, Abby.
Somebody needs to switch to decaf.
Could be seconds, could be hours
if he used his other thumb for his driver's licence.
Okay, he's not in the D.C. system, or Virginia or Maryland.
Do you want me to run all 50 states?
Yes.
Well, it's getting really late.
Not that I'm tired or anything from lack of caffeine, mind you, because I'm not.
No, really.
My meter is running full blast, Gibbs.
Relax, Abs. I think you just solved the case.
ABBY: I did?
Metres.
It's a form of measurement used extensively in Europe.
Taxi metres, DiNozzo. Bayliss keep meter records for gypsy drivers?
Yeah, without records, he wouldn't be able to keep track of kickbacks.
Bayliss' laptop.
Every driver who hasn't reported to work for the past 72 hours.
I'm only interested in metres that are not running.
I don't follow, but I'm willing to give it a try.
TONY: I get it.
Zuri heard about other drivers being attacked.
He knows they're after him.
Would've stopped driving after the first attack.
Put it up.
McGEE: Dumping all females, non-African-Americans,
every one over 50 and under 30.
Match the rest against our victims' stats.
McGEE: Five left, boss.
Sayda?
SAYDA: That is Thomas.
That is my husband.
- Are you sure? - Yes, I'm sure.
- Get me an address. - I want to come with you.
I want to see him. Please.
No.
Please.
Yamaha's on the side. Engine's still hot.
McGee, you're out front. DiNozzo, you're with us.
ABAKA: I will not have you ruin my country.
It's time to die.
If you're going to do this, do it, but do not harm my wife.
Shut up, shopkeeper. Be still.
Be still or she will end up dead like you.
If you think I would let you return to my country, you are wrong.
NCIS. Drop your weapons.
[GUNSHOTS]
[GRUNTING]
[GRUNTS, GROANS]
[ABAKA GROANING]
ABAKA: You. ZIVA: Hello again, Professor Abaka.
[SIREN APPROACHING]
- Thomas Zuri? - Yes?
You're a hard man to find.
Perhaps not hard enough.
[PANTING]
My wife...
[INDISTINCT POLICE RADIO CHATTER]
ZIVA: He is okay. - Oh, thank you.
Seven years is a long time.
Thomas.
Sayda.
I have missed you so much.
You have been in my heart every moment.
Sayda.
I wrote to you so many letters.
Hundreds.
But I just received one letter, Thomas.
And then I heard that the army had killed everyone in our village.
I survived. We both survived.
[DOOR OPENS]
I thought I would never see you again.
I'm s-s-sorry, Sayda.
I'm so very sorry.
It's okay, Thomas.
I understand.
I am just glad you are safe.
[WHISPERS] Sayda.
[ENGINE STARTS]
ZURl: Let's go.