NCIS s01e02 Episode Script

Jimmy Jimmy Stop! I said no! God! Hey, I sat my sorry ass on a torn-up bus for three hours to hook up with you.
If you only came to hook up then you should have just|stayed in Charlottesville.
Come on.
You know I love you.
- Come here.
come on.
|- Jimmy Come on, come on, come on Stop! Stop it or I'll scream! Don't you lock the door? Nope.
I got a call.
Quantico.
Marine got killed in an exercise.
How? Night training jump.
Guy's chute didn't open.
Is this a boat? Did the reserve chute fail, too? I don't know.
Ah, I tried your cell.
Tried your hard line, too.
Don't ask.
You know, my dad gave me|a power sander for my birthday.
I don't really power sand much.
|You're welcome to it.
Aside from that bare bulb there, and a plug going|to that idiot box, you see a power cord|around here anywhere? You use hand tools, huh? I use my hands.
Did you call Ducky?|Not yet.
Give me your cell.
Coming, Dinozzo? He's a weirdo.
Yeah.
I got the light.
He impaled an suv? Like he was laser-guided, sir.
Where are the other jumpers? Over there, sir.
|They landed in the drop zone.
Just one stick?|Yes, sir.
I guess the jump master|held the others back when the victim's chute didn't open.
Did you secure the paraloft|and the aircraft? Yes, sir.
I also have the marines who didn't|make the jump under guard at the hanger.
Yeah, put them with the others.
Let's keep them all separated.
Yes, sir.
|Oh, my god.
- These the witnesses?|- Yes, sir.
My dad's going to kill me.
He's on duty and he doesn't know|that I took his suv.
You say your dad's a marine? Yes, sir.
Master sergeant Tom shaefer, sir.
|He's a T.
I.
at Quantico.
Your dad a marine, too? No way.
You, you cold, Sarah? A little.
How you doing? Hey.
Thanks.
There you go.
Special agent Gibbs.
Special agent Dinozzo.
|NCIS.
Want to tell us what happened? We were parked, and we were hanging out and listening|to Dashboard confessional.
What? Emo.
Emo? Emotional music.
You got to get a radio, Gibbs.
Okay, so you were listening|to music and? He smashed through the roof.
And wham, pow, blood everywhere.
I screamed, and we ran out for help.
I met them about a klick down|the road on our way to the scene.
I felt bad for leaving him there.
He was alive? - I heard him groan.
|- It was a death rattle.
You ever hear a death rattle? I was using that as a trope.
A what?|A trope.
A figurative use of expression.
Call her dad.
Have him pick her up.
Does that mean I get to go? Not until after master sergeant|Shaefer gets here.
I'm sure he's going to have|a trope or two for you.
Ducky's here.
And on a ladder.
|I'll get the mono-pod.
The last time I was up this high|I was hanging a pinata.
At my nephew's birthday party.
What do we got, Duck? Abrasions.
The tree must have slowed him a bit.
Purple discoloration.
|neck's broken I'd say.
It's hardly surprising given|the rapid descent followed by the equally rapid|deceleration.
Witnesses over there said|that he groaned after he decelerated.
It's possible.
|I won't know till I do the autopsy.
Looks like a number of his|shroud lines failed.
Enough of those go Chute doesn't catch air.
|It tootsie-rolls.
Let's you down like a roman candle.
Were they cut? No.
Look worn.
Still got his reserve chute on.
- Why didn't he pull it?|- Hey, look who I found.
MP's weren't going to let her pass.
I got my sig and badge|but HQ didn't issue my photo id.
God.
Is this for real? Unfortunately, my dear, it is.
Put them on.
Your first crime scene with us, Caitlin.
What about air force one? Doesn't count.
|You were in the secret service.
Hey, Tony, take a team photo|for posterity.
Forget posterity.
The sun's going to be up soon.
Welcome to NCIS.
How'd you know my size? Put them on.
Can't work a field in high heels.
Depends on the kind|of work you're doing.
Your mind, Dinozzo, runs|the gamut from X to triple X.
Yeah.
Photos, Tony.
Yeah.
Ducky?|Huh? Why would Gibbs rip his hard line out and dunk his cell phone|in a jar of paint thinner? Oh, dear.
What? I should have realized|the time of year.
It's his anniversary.
Which marriage? The last one, of course.
Isn't it always? Ducky I'm not following.
Every year, ex-wife number three|gets drunk on their anniversary and calls him.
Repeatedly.
Why doesn't he, uh change his number? I have no idea.
In case you haven't noticed, Gibbs is a man of more|questions than answers.
Thanks, Dinozzo.
Hey, you could be the NCIS|poster girl in that outfit.
You JAG or NCIS? Do I look like a lawyer? Word's all over the base by now.
My men can't even call their family and let them know that|they're not the one who died.
Was sergeant Fuentes married? He has a wife and son.
Notification detail should be|there to talk to her by now.
Word will get out who was killed.
Sergeant Fuentes was under my command.
I'd like to see her.
After we finish questioning|you and your men.
- How long is that going to take?|- I don't know.
These men have another jump at 2100.
They're jumping again tonight? We don't stop for casualties in war, miss.
- Neither do we in training.
|- Not true, captain.
They don't jump off a lower bunk|until we find out what happened.
I don't take orders from NCIS cops.
Special agents.
And you'll follow this order.
Or what, special agent? I don't take orders|from your boss, either.
I'm not calling my boss.
I'm calling yours.
Commandant May? Special agent Gibbs, NCIS.
I don't have a commandant of the|marine corps on my speed dial.
Captain didn't know that.
All right, Dinozzo,|shoot and sketch.
Especially the static lines.
|Kate and I will start the interrogations.
Jumping's got to be so cool.
Hey, you want to play paratrooper? Pay $180, take a class like all|those other weekend warriors.
Yeah, I have so many weekends free.
Sergeant Fuentes lead your stick? Yes, sir.
I was number two, Ramsey was|three, Brinkman four.
First stick, you're up! Fuentes, look sharp.
Dafelmair, Ramsey, Brinkman.
- Keep it tight.
|- Aye, aye, sir.
Stand by.
Go! Go! Go! After my chute deployed,|I looked around.
I saw Brinkman's chute open above me.
When I looked down, I only saw one canopy below.
I didn't know if it was|Paul or Thumper.
Thumper? That's what we|called Fuentes, ma'am.
Sounds crazy now, but he was|the squad's good luck guy, ma'am.
He was a walking rabbit's foot.
Thumper? Yes, ma'am.
He always seemed to dodge the bullets.
We could tell you a million stories.
Why don't you tell us just one? Well, sir bought himself a new bike last week.
Car ran a red light, he went over through|a plate glass window.
Dinged his collarbone a little.
Other than that, not a scratch.
Dinged it a little? A day or two he was fine, sir.
Hmm.
- Who reached him first?|- I did, sir.
I saw him roman candle short of the field.
As soon as I got out of my harness,|I took off to find him.
You two? I hung up in a tree.
Dave gave me a hand.
Saw Paul yelling|and we joined him.
Can't believe the way that Thumper died.
It was like a bad movie.
Was he dead when you reached him,|corporal Dafelmair? Yes, sir.
|Died on impact.
I'm sure.
|Well, at least I hope he did.
Why didn't he pull his reserve? Jumping from 1,300 feet.
your main fails, you have three, maybe four|seconds to react, ma'am.
Okay, each of you need to prepare|a statement detailing what you saw.
Yes, sir.
No, no.
Leave them.
Your gear is ours now.
What'd you get out of that? He didn't have time|to pop his reserve.
Why not? Obviously, his reaction|time was too slow.
Nuts Dinged collarbone.
Injured clavicle hurts like hell and takes more than a couple of days to heal.
Do you think corporal Dafelmair was lying? He was if he knew that Thumper was|taking painkillers so he could jump.
That's stupid.
No, that's a marine.
Our victim sustained a broken neck, crushed vertebrae, multiple leg fractures, a shattered pelvis What about his clavicle? With all this massive skeletal damage, you're curious about his clavicle? Humor me.
Well, how did you know? There is a fine hairline fracture|on the left clavicle which he incurred|recently, but not last night.
No, its begun to mend.
You two are beginning to scare me.
Ducky, would that fracture pain him much? Oh, nothing too severe.
Of course, the shock of a parachute|opening would have hurt like blazes.
How did you know? The girl in the suv|said she heard him moan.
Was he alive after impact? Briefly.
Uh, not too close, Caitlin.
I'll put it on the monitor.
Yeah, he most certainly would|have died of massive trauma, but the technical cause of death was severing of the femoral artery.
Yes, our young marine bled to death.
What happened to the sad|end to a drano drinker? I did a new one.
Art can't stand still, Tony.
It was my favorite.
So, what's the new one? Self-inflicted gunshot wound|to the abdomen.
Of course.
I'm going to call it|blast from the future.
I figure with my|shotgun-shattered backbone, I got, like, a chagall feeling going on.
Uh, in a manson family way.
Yeah.
Abby, you have|my tox screen results? Yep, right over here.
The victim tested positive|for percoset and vicodin.
- Double your pleasure|- Double your fun.
What kind of levels? Point-one-seven.
He was|slow-juiced like a koala bear.
My guess is that he popped right|before he dropped.
The marines we questioned|in his string probably knew.
Why didn't they tell us? Semper fi You rat, you fry.
Sorry.
Was his reserve chute okay? Yeah, it was perfect.
|All he had to do was pop it.
Well, he might have if his reflexes|weren't slowed by opioids.
Opioids? General term for opiates|and synthetic analgesics.
Go Kate.
You sure you were a baltimore cop? Okay He was too juiced|to pop his reserve.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
You pump adrenaline when you jump.
Your main doesn't open it would|really kick into high gear.
Well, Gibbs, if he had the reflexes|to use it, why didn't he? I don't know.
What did you find from the|shroudlines of his main chute? Fiber disintegration.
But not from textile fatigue.
It's fluorescing as some sort of|cleansing agent, but that didn't cause|this kind of damage.
Edges look melted.
I haven't tagged it yet,|but it was definitely an acid that shredded the lines holding|three hundred pounds of jumping marine.
How long to find the acid,|check out the rest of those chutes? I'm flying solo, so at least a day.
Go faster if you had an assistant? Oh, definitely.
Okay.
You got the job.
- I get to do forensics?|- No.
You get to schlep for Abby.
She gets to do forensics.
Why didn't you tell us you|were a rigger, corporal? I thought you knew, sir.
Did you? What's next? Sign the log and stick|it in the chute pocket.
Same signature.
That's the log from Thumper's|chute, wasn't it, sir? Yeah.
You packed it.
Sir, I didn't know he'd get|one that I packed.
Chutes are handed out randomly,|even when we jump.
Riggers usually go on jumps? Training runs.
Yes, sir.
How many riggers jumped last night? Uh, corporals Ramsey, Brinkman,|and Thumper, of course.
He was senior rigger.
Figure we knew that, too? Sir, we weren't trying|to hide anything.
Oh, like hell you weren't, corporal.
You all knew Thumper was using|pain killers for that dinged collarbone.
He died because he was too|juiced to pull his reserve.
Sir, there's no way for anyone|to sabotage a chute and count on it|getting to a specific jumper.
All those chutes packed here? Yes, sir.
|We prepped them at 0900, put them on the trucks for the jump at 1800.
They were here for nine hours, unattended? - Under lock and key, sir.
|- Who's got the key? Captain Faul and Thumper, as|senior rigger, both have keys, sir.
You had a criminal record before entering the corps, corporal.
- Made a few mistakes, sir.
|- Shoplifting - drug possession?|- That was a long time ago, sir.
Three years.
Not so long.
Look, sir, you got have my file.
You know the judge gave me a choice.
prison or the service.
The corps gave me a second chance, sir.
And I would never do anything to hurt it or one of my brother marines.
Never, sir.
Carl sagan time.
Sulfuric acid! That would chew the shine off a trailer hitch.
How'd you get into this? Filled out an application.
I mean forensics.
Oh, uh when I was a kid,|we lived near this lot where they brought all the burned-out|hulks from the gnarliest car wrecks.
I used to sneak in there|at night and take pictures.
It wasn't about the gore.
It was about figuring out|how things happened you know? Like action, reaction|the science of the whole thing.
I got hooked.
|How about you? Actually, I wanted to be a lawyer.
I did a I did|a year in law school.
It felt like ten years in prison.
With really boring inmates? Admit it You just like strapping on a gun.
More than one.
Really? You're packing more heat|than meets the eye? Those your only tattoos? You show me yours,|I'll show you mine.
Go! You ever jump? When I get an electric shock.
Explains the lack of power tools.
You going to do it? What? Spend $180 to defy gravity? Yeah, I think I am.
Agent Gibbs.
This came for you, sir.
I just missed you at the paraloft.
- Thank you, lance corporal.
|- Yes, sir.
Who's it from? Ducky.
Jethro, the bean counters couldn't|find you, so they gave this to me.
I suggest you read the|instructions on call-blocking.
That addressed to you? It works.
Gibbs.
Yeah.
Be there in 20.
You know, some of these guys|freeze on their first jump.
Have to be kicked in the ass|to get them out.
Not me.
No.
You fall in the category I want|to kick in the ass on the ground.
Go! Very electric cool-aid, Abby.
I was thinking more blue man group.
Sergeant Fuentes's chute|wasn't the only one tampered with.
How many? Nine out of 16.
Log book signatures show|different riggers packed the lot.
How many did corporal Dafelmair pack? Four.
The rest were packed by corporal|Brinkman and sergeant fuentes.
- Corporal Ramsey didn't pack any?|- Nope.
When his signature didn't show up|on a single chute, I called captain Faul.
He'd put corporal Ramsey on two-week rigging suspension for sloppy work.
And guess who wrote him up|for that sloppy work? Senior rigger, sergeant Fuentes.
We got motive.
We got more than that.
Kate and I have a theory.
Why didn't you take to me this fast? You're like a piercing, Tony.
It takes a while for the throbbing|to stop and the skin to grow back.
That's more than I wanted to know.
What's the theory? Okay, every time you lace up your|doc's or cinch your laundry bag, you leave some skin cells behind.
It's the same with a parachute rigging.
I pulled skin samples from|the deployment bags of the chutes that were futzed with.
You get a DNA signature? All nine knots had a number|of different sets of skin samples, but there's only one set|that's common to all nine.
The saboteur.
Our riggers of record packed the chutes, then someone came in and repacked them, - leaving some skin behind.
|- Corporal Ramsey.
Depending on how much|he knows about forensics, he'd either very smart or very dumb.
There's got to be other chutes that corporal Ramsey packed in the|paraloft inventory for comparison.
Negatory.
I checked.
They were all packed|since he's been suspended.
There's an armed forces|DNA registry all military personnel|are on record, right? Yeah.
Then we've got our guy.
No.
All we've got is a pile of dead skin.
The only thing you can use the DNA|registry for is to identify a body.
There has to be a way around that.
See? Now you're thinking|like an NCIS agent.
We know that nine parachutes|were rigged to fail.
The killer doctored them|and repacked them.
Sergeant Fuentes died|as a result of that.
That's premeditated murder.
I'm sold.
Hey, if I'm on the jury,|you got my vote.
We found DNA evidence on|the chute deployment bag knots.
Belonging to your suspect? We believe so.
To be certain, we have to access|the armed forces registry.
That's impossible.
The registry was set up|to identify remains only.
He knows that.
I do? He tried to use it when he went after|commander Rabb for murder.
He get him? No because he wasn't guilty.
You couldn't use the DNA registry then, what makes you think you can use it now? You, lieutenant.
You're a smart lawyer and you know the law.
I know why I'm here.
Well, I hope so.
I requested you.
Yeah, you requested me because you think you|can work me, like last time, when I ratted out commander Rabb.
You did not rat on anyone.
You told the truth.
I, uh, gave my uniform an extra|lint-roll this morning, agent Gibbs.
And you waltzing around in my blind spot.
not going to intimidate me this time.
We're at 24 hours now,|and soon it's gonna be 48.
You've done investigations,|you know what that means.
I've done jagman investigations, sure.
After 48 hours, your evidence|begins to degrade, disappear.
Witnesses change their stories,|suspects improve theirs, I know.
So help us.
|No! Hey, you're not going to get me to lawyer you past an iron-clad prohibition that prevents tapping into DNA records that were designed to identify|bodies, not chase suspects.
This guy, he is guilty.
He killed him.
Let him drop to his death from 1,300 feet.
- It doesn't matter.
|- For every legal firewall, there's a way around it.
I can't help you.
And can I please have my pen back? Oh, yeah.
Yeah, sure you can.
You're gonna need it.
Because if I can't have my DNA, I'm gonna need some search|authorizations signed.
You knew lieutenant Roberts|wasn't going to lawyer us access to|the military DNA database.
Did I?|You did.
So why go through the exercise? Kate, I come from a long line|of horse traders.
First rule You pick the best horse in the barn, then you work the deal|until it bursts That way, when you go for the|second-best nag, you get her for a song.
The search authorization.
We didn't have probable cause,|but the lieutenant, he's a man who aims to please.
You never work the system|when you can work the people.
Any of those horse traders|you come from get hung? Yeah.
A few.
Did you find out what|Ramsey was written up for? Ah, yeah.
Frayed lines, bent cones,|cuts in the canopy.
I hope this guy isn't going|to medical school at night.
Oh, yeah, scuttlebutt is scuttlebutt? That's marine for water cooler gossip.
The scuttlebutt is that Ramsey|took a swing at Thumper for getting him suspended.
Identy withheld.
Probably the reason you married her.
I mean she probably hid her|real personality, as most women do, and by that time, it was too late|'cause you'd already I'm going to shut up now.
Now? Did you really just say,|as most women do? Meet me at the paraloft at 1400.
We'll execute our search authorizations to go through the riggers' lockers.
That's 2:00 secret service time, Kate.
We used zulu time, Tony.
Zulu time.
Oh, yeah, that would be Nineteen hundred.
I knew that.
Hey.
Can I come up? Do I need a password? Maybe I'll just come up a little.
You really should have a password.
Why? It's never gonna be finished.
My dad's dead.
Yeah, yeah, I know.
Who are you? I'm, uh, Jethro Gibbs.
NCIS.
I don't have time to answer questions.
|We're on our way to the funeral.
I'm not here to ask questions.
Then why are you here? He says I need a password, mom.
What? I told him a tree house|should have a password.
Oh.
Yeah, Larry was building that for him.
Doing a good job.
Larry was a good man.
A good husband and a good father.
A good marine.
There are rumors that his|death wasn't an accident.
Whatever happened, Mrs.
Fuentes, I'll find who's responsible.
Billy, we have to go.
Oh, look at you.
Dusty Come here.
Your hair's a mess.
|Where's your comb? Larry always told him|to carry a comb.
Like JFK.
Whoever he is.
He was a navy guy, like your dad was a marine.
Navy guys and marines,|they always look their best.
Your dad would want you to look|your best today, for him.
I don't want the marines|at the funeral to see me cry.
Never be ashamed of tears, bud.
- Marines don't cry.
|- Yeah, they do.
At JFK's funeral, his son saluted the coffin.
You know how to salute? Perfect.
You salute your dad today.
Nobody will notice the tears.
We have to go.
I believe you'll get|whoever did this.
You have my word.
Keep your feet together, Cushion the impact.
That's it? You signed the release to notify|next of kin, right? Just don't say break a leg.
All right.
How was that? Very ladylike.
Dinozzo What are you doing? Uh, I'm just doing a little|research for Abby.
For Abby? Well, maybe I'm serving two masters.
You're serving one now.
How'd you get into NCIS? I smiled.
I had the riggers' lockers sealed|immediately after the incident, sir.
Keys.
Got something.
Brass-stripper solvent.
Read the contents.
Contains petroleum distillant,|ammonia and sulfuric acid.
Harmful if swallowed or applied to shroud lines.
Ramsey's locker.
That stuff's not mine.
Sergeant Nutt, place|the corporal in custody.
Tony, read them.
You have the right to remain silent|and make no statement at all.
Any statement you do make can be used|against you in a trial by court-martial Scuttlebutt has it that you and|Thumper mixed it up in the paraloft.
We exchanged words, sir.
And fists.
A punch or two was thrown.
|Nothing serious.
But I damn sure wasn't angry|enough to kill him, sir.
Well, maybe you only|meant to scare him.
But Thumper was on painkillers and didn't have time to pull his reserve.
I didn't touch his chute, sir.
How could I? I'm on suspension and the|paraloft is under lock and key.
What'd you find? Hardware store where our guy|did one-stop shopping.
Clerk's pretty fuzzy.
He does remember a marine|in a real hurry to copy a key.
All you needed was a key like this one.
I found this in Thumper's personal effects.
If that's the paraloft key, you won't find one like|that on my key chain.
I've messed up some rigging,|sir, but never intentionally.
A guy jumps with one of my chutes, he puts his life in my hands.
I'd never breach that trust, sir.
Never.
Now Are you going to tell me that was a plant, too? It had to be.
I'm not guilty, sir.
They're always so sincere|when they say that.
What if I was to give you|an offer you to prove that? Anything, sir.
Are you willing to give us|a sample of your DNA? Someone put that box in my locker|and that key on my key chain.
How do I know that you don't have my DNA on something else they planted, too? You don't.
Dinozzo Where'd you learn how to write, china? I'd say egypt.
Looks more like hieroglyphics.
|Hey.
You were in a rush to read it.
My mistake.
Are those the interviews of the|marines that didn't jump? Yes, it's not very interesting unless Corporal Ramsey finally gave it up.
His mouth was drier than mummy dust.
I had to swab it four times|to get a decent DNA sample.
How long to test for a match|on those skin cells? Only if you want no runs, drips or|errors in court, you got to give me 24.
Abby, clock's ticking.
You don't expect a guilty man|to give up his DNA.
Ah, he's rolling the dice.
Hoping for that one in a|million shot it won't match.
Guilty people do that? All the time.
Wait a minute.
|Kate has a point.
What if Ramsey was set up?|What if what if he's innocent? What if he's telling the truth? Well, we'll know in 24 hours,|but I wouldn't bet on it.
Yeah, well, you know what? I don't like sitting on my ass,|waiting for a DNA match.
There are only two other|possible suspects.
corporals Dafelmair or Brinkman.
Nope, there's three.
|You're forgetting captain Faul.
He's got a key to the paraloft.
Where do you think you're going, bubba? You got a report to finish.
Sergeant Fuentes is one of|the finest ncos in my command.
He was tough on his riggers, but fair.
I still find it difficult to believe his reporting corporal Ramsey drove him to murder.
Corporal Ramsey hasn't been|proven guilty yet, captain.
You're holding him.
Scuttlebutt is he's confessed.
Never knew a marine captain|who believed scuttlebutt.
How did you prepare|the day of the exercise? I spent the morning in chalk talk with the navy aviators piloting the c-130.
I noticed you used a navy bird.
Most of ours are deployed in Iraq.
You eat lunch with them? At the officer's mess.
After lunch, we made a couple|of dry runs, had another chalk talk|and then loaded up.
Why? Do you have your paraloft key, captain? Corporal Ramsey must have lifted sergeant Fuentes's key long|enough to make a duplicate.
Corporal Ramsey made|a key to the paraloft? It's the only way he could have|slipped in to sabotage the chutes.
Thank you, captain.
Thank you.
|Thank you.
Why didn't you just ask to see my key? Agent Todd is new.
Just teaching her how to interrogate.
The paraloft was secured|between 0900 and 1800.
That's why you wanted to know|what I was doing all day.
You suspected me.
If the captain were a suspect, we would have read him|his rights, wouldn't we? Very good, agent Todd.
Great.
Captain have an alibi? He was nowhere near the paraloft|when the chutes were sabotaged.
Ramsey's the dirt bag.
Could still be Dafelmair or Brinkman.
Sergeant Fuentes supervised|the riggers handing out chutes.
Yeah, he watches his riggers|from the back of the truck.
Corporal Ramsey participated.
Well, he's on suspension from rigging, not passing out chutes or jumping.
He could have given|thumper a dirty chute.
What'd you say? Ramsey could have given|Thumper a sabotaged chute.
No, you said dirty.
What? With Gibbs you never know.
Abby, I need to see sergeant|Fuentes' reserve chute.
You might want to take|a look at this first.
Now that I'm only running|one DNA analysis, I finally had time to do a particle|pick on the shroud lines.
You're looking at infrared|of bolivia's best.
Cocaine? Our killer's using? No, the rock's too pure.
The residue on his skin is probably|from cutting and weighing.
Why don't I think Thumper was killed for reporting corporal Ramsey's rigging? - Where's Thumper's reserve chute?|- It's over here.
I already checked it, Gibbs.
|It's clean.
You know what, it's too clean.
It's too clean for someone who|smashed through a tree and an suv.
Where's the other jump gear|we confiscated? I stored it in the ballistics|lab after I tested it.
What are you looking for? Ramsey, Dafelmair's and|Brinkman's gear.
Here's one.
What are you looking for? A screwed pooch.
Here it is.
|It's dirty.
This is the reserve|that Thumper jumped with.
Unlucky 13.
Someone pulled a switch|after he hit the suv.
The cone's been soldered in place.
Doesn't matter if those painkillers|slowed his judgment.
He couldn't use this chute.
Whose rucksack is this? Call captain Faul.
Tell him jump OPs can resume.
We got our killer.
Do I tell him who? No.
I don't want DNA evidence.
I want this bastard to confess.
How are we going to do that? Wear this when we jump.
Jump? Hey, captain.
Aren't you a little old to re-up? I hear there's a war on.
Agent Dinozzo.
Can't tell if you're enlisting|or just listing.
Haha, that's a good one.
We're going with you, boys.
NCIS training mission.
Now why don't I believe that? Hell, why not? Hate to pass up the opportunity to toss a couple of NCIS agents out of a plane.
Why are you jumping with us, sir? I always wanted to jump.
Agent Gibbs came along to laugh.
Hard to believe Dave killed Thumper|over a lousy two weeks suspension, sir.
Yeah.
Thumper rode him, sir,|but no more than the rest of us.
- Just doesn't make sense.
|- Oh, no.
What? Chickening out? Thirteen.
It's my first jump.
My reserve is number 13.
Wouldn't have bothered|Thumper, would it, guys? Either of you superstitious? No, sir.
|No, sir.
Great.
Why don't you swap|with corporal Brinkman? What's your reserve chute number? Four.
Four? Four's unlucky in china.
We're not in china.
I don't care.
What's your number? Eight.
Great.
Eight's lucky in china.
Is there a problem? No, sir.
Stand up! Hook up! Thumper ride you, corporal Dafelmair? He rode everybody, sir.
About being a drug dealer? That's his reserve|chute you're wearing.
The one you switched|on him when he landed.
Don't know what you're talking about, sir.
You were the first one down.
First one to get to Thumper.
Ramsey was helping|Brinkman out of a tree.
What's he saying, Paul? I don't know.
Only takes a couple of minutes|to switch a bad chute for a good one.
Marine corps gave you|a second chance.
When Thumper found out|you soiled the uniform by dealing drugs, he wouldn't do it.
I thought corporal Ramsey was guilty? He is, sir.
Thought wrong, corporal.
Prove it.
What the hell are you doing? His main can't open! He's got a reserve! Captain, this is nuts.
You going to put a stop this, sir? A confession and ratting out your|drug supplier will get you a deal.
How good a deal? Read him his article 31s.
You have the right to remain silent He doesn't deserve a deal! Hey, hey, back off! Come on.
Cool it, man! Dinozzo! Good-bye, Dinozzo.
Military authorities arrested a marine|and charged him with murder in connection with|sergeant Larry fuentes' tragic parachute|mishap three days ago.
We ever going to make the 11:00 news? Could have happened tonight|if you'd broke your neck.
Well, it's been a long one.
You leaving soon? Mm-hmm.
All right.
Good night.
Can I come up? You got a password? Yes, sir.
Semper fi.
That's a good password.
Come on up.
All right.