NCIS s04e04 Episode Script

Faking It

Driver's license and registration, please, sir.
Sorry, Officer.
My wife pregnant.
Hm She's always calling me when I'm driving.
And registration, sir.
Gun! Sir, put your hands up on the dashboard! But my wife.
Hands on the dashboard! I want to see your hands! All right, nice and slow, I want your hands through the window opening the door from the outside and step out of the car.
Now! - Charlie.
- I got it.
On the hood, sir, now.
Hands behind your back.
You just fired this gun, sir? Damn.
You okay, sir? Sir? Men are such bad liars.
But if a good liar was telling you a lie, you would not know it was a lie.
Ha! I would.
How would you know? Know what? When an expert liar is telling Ziva a lie.
And this started how? Well, I told her that I went to the gym this morning.
No great skill in guessing you were fibbing there, probie.
You may have lost some weight, and personally, I'm very proud of you, but "gym" is definitely not your middle name.
Okay, well, Ziva thinks that all men are liars.
Really? So if I were to lie to you, you would be able to tell? Particularly you.
You think? Wouldn't go there, Tony.
Oh, watch and weep.
True or false: I had eggs for breakfast this morning.
True.
Lucky guess.
Last night, I had a date with a very beautiful woman.
False.
She's good.
My first car was a shiny new red Corvette.
False.
Strike three.
I win.
How did you do that? When you said you had a red Corvette, you looked down and to the left a telltale sign when people lie.
And the date? Gibbs.
Tony if you'd gone out with a beautiful woman last night, you'd have talked about it all day.
- I would? - Oh, yeah.
Okay, but how could you possibly know that I had eggs for breakfast this morning? Gear up.
Got a message from a dead guy.
Ready to roll, boss.
Dinozzo Yeah, boss? You got egg on your shirt.
Not just your shirt.
It's amazing what the human body can endure.
This poor fellow probably lasted longer than he should.
How much longer? Several minutes.
Not much when you stack it against a lifetime of minutes, but minutes nonetheless.
He could've driven a couple of miles.
More like a couple city blocks.
Traffic sucks this time of day.
According to his military ID, he's Chief Petty Officer Jack T.
Vale.
You know him? No.
Well, he knows you guys.
Jackpot.
Got to be 50 or Yeah, there's more in his trouser pocket.
What do you think, illegal slots? Maybe he was on his way to a video arcade.
Maybe he was doing laundry.
That's a lot of laundry.
Maybe he was a once- a- month kind of man.
I do it once a week.
Laundry.
Who's the fare? Oh, that's Robert John Stevens.
But the guy's got an accent as thick as Polish sausage, so I ain't buying it.
Found a loaded.
38 on the seat, recently fired.
Got an exit wound? Well, there doesn't appear to be an exit wound.
So I dig out the bullet, you match it to the weapon and, hey, presto, justice prevails.
Open and shut case, boss.
No such thing, DiNozzo, only watertight.
Give me a call when you're finished.
You got it, Ducky.
Doesn't look like a fake ID.
Fake.
What are you talking about? You barely got a look at it.
I can spot a fake a mile away.
I had the best fake ID in college.
Never got turned away from a bar.
Never? Never.
Once.
Once? - Or twice.
- A month? A week.
But, listen, we went out every night, and it was a college town.
And they're very tough there, eagle-eyed bouncers.
You really had to act the part, too, you know? You had to be mature, worldly, kind of grown up.
So it wasn't really the ID, it was you.
Are you kidding me? No, I was I was the master of fake.
Last call dialed was 911.
Cops will have it on tape.
Maybe this one will be easy.
Fake name fake plates.
Real weapon.
Real guy dead.
When he first saw you, he called 911.
When you realized he was trailing you, you shot him.
Even the very, very good ones slip up eventually.
And you Mister Stevens? You're not very good.
- Women want men to lie to them.
- Not true.
"Honey, does my butt look big in these pants to you?" "Actually, yes, sweetheart, "your butt looks as big as Alabama.
"Didn't want to say anything, but you got the 'Bama butt going on.
" See? You want us to lie to you, so we do.
Especially if your butt is as big as 'Bama.
Not that not that your butt is big.
- And not that I've even looked.
- Liar.
Okay, I have looked, but, you know, I never Never what? Oh, no.
I I'm catching on to you.
And you're not going to get me to say something and then do your little Mossad true-or-false trick.
I'm too smart for that.
Of course you are.
- Ziva - Gibbs.
How many languages do you speak? Comment vous-appelez-vous? Ah, French.
Was wir nur wissen wollen ist ihre naame.
Und German.
Mi dica il suo nome.
Italian.
Of course.
Lee ma betellna essmak? Greek? Arabic.
Nice, boss.
Skah-zhee-teh, kahk vahs zah-voot? Ah.
Got him.
He's Russian.
Looked down and to the left.
Sure sign of a liar.
That's very good, DiNozzo.
Thanks, boss.
Ziva tell you that? Tell me you found a match on our suspect's prints, Ab.
Negative.
Still processing.
What we do have is $73.
65.
That's what the victim was carrying.
And there's no pennies.
He probably threw them out.
A lot people do, you know.
I mean, I don't, but other people do.
Do you know how many pennies are thrown out or put into jars every year? Enlighten me.
Three and a half billion.
Billion, Gibbs.
That's, like, $35 million in pennies.
That's a lot of pennies in any language.
Including Russian.
No, Russians don't have pennies, they have kopecks.
What's it have to do with Russia? Run his prints through Immigration and let's find out.
Oh, because he's a foreigner and every visitor is printed when they enter the U.
S.
Clever, Gibbs.
Okay, I reviewed the 911 call.
Ready? My name is Jack Vale.
This is really important, okay? I've identified a terrorist, a known terrorist.
I'm following him downtown right now.
Get someone over here.
Call NC NCIS.
I'm guessing an overtaxed relay tower in the downtown area caused the line to drop off before he finished.
But, Gibbs, this guy works in the supply department.
What would he know about terrorists? That's a good question.
I also isolated the background noise.
It's kind of a Pac-Man- retro-meets-Vegas sort of thing.
Not really something you hear in a car.
He was on foot when he made the call.
We have a winner.
Nikolai Aleksandrovich Puchenko.
Russian.
And there's a Homeland Security alert.
You're not the only one interested in Mr.
Nikolai Puchenko.
I want lawyer.
Get a good one.
Tell him the charge is going to be murder.
I'm afraid it's not that simple.
Normally matching the bullet to the weapon shouldn't present us with any great difficulty, but this is far from normal.
How far? I haven't seen anything like it in 25 years of slicing and dicing.
The bullet entered below the rib cage, traveling from left to right.
It nicked the pancreas, missed the liver, deflected off the fifth rib and gouged its way through soft tissue and perforated the stomach.
No exit wound.
And so that's where it appears to have, um To have um, what, Dr.
Mallard? Vanished.
It's not in the bullet furrow and it's not showing up on any of the X rays.
I don't know where it's gone.
I'm afraid we don't have a bullet.
The 911 call was routed through this tower here.
Anyone ever heard of Operation Sunburst? That locates Vale somewhere in this area when he made the call.
Anywhere outside of the circle would have meant that the call was routed through a different cell tower.
Back in '91.
Come one, anyone, Operation Sunburst.
About three city blocks Less.
Abby said the signal dropped out.
That probably puts him at the outside edge of the reception area of that tower.
That's pretty clever, boss.
How'd you figure that out? Too much time around you.
Boss Operation Sunburst, you know it? It was a sting.
One of our ops.
Chief Vale was part of it.
He was just a P.
O.
Three back then detailed from the Supply Department to NIS for five weeks.
Get that file from archives.
I can't.
I mean, it's not possible, boss.
I got the index reference, but when I called the archive, they said the file was missing.
Check the log.
Who booked it out last? CIA.
So I guess that's not a "who," it's more of an "it.
" Who was the NIS case agent? What time is it in Mexico right now? Cantina time.
Si.
Si.
Washington, senor.
Only one person in Washington DC knows where to find me this time of day.
How you doing, probie? Well, I'm surviving.
You? Sun's hot, ocean's warm, beer's cold.
Got no complaints.
You change your mind? Every day.
But then something stops me.
What's stopping you this time? Operation Sunburst.
That was a long time ago.
Do you remember a petty officer named Vale? Right guy, right place, right time.
Went undercover for us.
Well, he was shot dead this morning.
And you think this has something to do with Sunburst? Well, you tell me.
We got a suspect.
Russian.
Arkady Kobach? Nikolai Puchenko.
Arkady Kobach is the man you need to worry about.
Puchenko and he served together.
When the Soviet Union started started falling apart, they got into the arms trade.
Wanted to buy some of our Stingers to sell to Chechen terrorists.
Tried to bribe Vale in the Supply Department.
So you sent him undercover? Someone tipped them off.
They hightailed it back to Easter Europe.
A month later, the CIA stuck its nose in and our file conveniently went missing.
What happened to Vale? He bumped into Puchenko in the street.
Recognized him, tried to follow him.
Puchenko shot him.
I hope you've got an ironclad case.
This piece of scum is way overdue.
Yeah.
Working on it, boss.
Good luck with the fishing down there.
Thanks for the tip.
Good luck.
We got a case yet, DiNozzo? Like you said, working on it, boss.
We've narrowed down the area where he was shot, and we do have a suspect in possession of a gun.
Which means murder one.
With a bullet.
If we can find one.
Hi, Ducky.
Penny for your thoughts.
Or three and a half billion pennies.
That was an in-joke.
So I have a pristine bullet sample fired from our suspect's.
38.
All I need is the bullet you pulled from him.
I'll make a match and we'll send the bad guys wherever the bad guys go when we catch 'em.
Where do the bad guys go when we catch 'em? The bullet's disappeared, Abby.
I thought there was no exit wound? There is no exit wound.
Well, maybe it fell out, like in his clothes or something.
I already checked.
Or an evidence bag.
- Checked.
- Or a body bag.
Ditto.
Well, bullets don't just disappear, Ducky.
Unless it's an ice bullet.
I saw this really cool movie one time where this guy carved a bullet - It's not an ice bullet.
- .
.
out of ice Do you really think you lost a bullet? I didn't lose it.
At least, I don't think I did.
Oh, Ducky.
I'd be sick to my stomach if I lost evidence or screwed something up like a DNA sample or a fingerprint.
Of course! That's got to be it.
Nothing else makes any sense.
Abby, you are a genius.
Probie.
Yeah What's this? Number three? Four.
Would have thought you'd have been done practicing by now.
There's always something to learn, Mike.
Hard lessons.
Some harder than others.
Got any extra fine? You didn't waste any time getting here.
You were expecting me? Well, I would have been disappointed if you didn't come.
Yeah, well, let's just say I don't like loose ends, probie.
Take more than loose ends to get you off that beach in Baja.
These scumbags have been selling weapons to tyrants and terrorists ever since they gave us the slip.
Guns and bombs and RPGs used to kill American soldiers and marines in every hellhole from Mogadishu to Baghdad.
It's time it ended.
You know who tipped them? Rumor was they'd agreed to supply some new high-tech Soviet missile to CIA.
Guess they figured they wouldn't get their missile if their arms dealers were in prison.
Which is exactly where I was going to send them.
You've got a chance here, probie.
Don't screw it up.
Same to you, Nikolai.
Who's that with him? Marty Allen.
His lawyer.
Hope he's not a good lawyer.
Enjoy your tour? Yeah, place is like a video arcade.
You've got more technology in one room than we had in every office across the whole damn country.
You know if I needed to interrogate someone when I worked at Camp Pendleton, I'd take them into the broom closet with a telephone directory.
No broom closet, no telephone directory No smoking.
Another three reasons why I left just in time.
Special Agent Gibbs, may I have a moment? Ooh-rah, Gunny.
You know that guy? Yeah Like a rat knows a snake.
Director Shepard Special Agent Gibbs, this is Roy Carver, Homeland Security.
Agent Gibbs.
Mr.
Carver is here in relation to a suspect we're holding.
Nikolai Puchenko.
I'd like you to transfer him into Mr.
Carver's custody.
Why? He's working for us.
He's providing valuable intel on the arms trade among terrorist groups in Eastern Europe.
Was he working for you when he killed a sailor yesterday? I read the preliminary autopsy report on that, Agent Gibbs.
Seems there's a lack of evidence linking Puchenko to the crime.
He was carrying an illegal firearm.
Not connected to the shooting.
Yet.
Well.
.
Well, find evidence that he was involved in any serious criminal activity and I promise, I'll hand him right back to you Do we have anything yet, Agent Gibbs? We will.
Until we do, I'm releasing him to Homeland Security.
Ziva, get Puchenko.
Hello, this is Special Agent DiNozzo.
I have Ziva David coming down to pick up Nikolai Puchenko.
If he walks out of here, you won't see him again.
Any evidence you have won't be worth spit.
We haven't got enough evidence to even clear our throat.
We can't charge him with anything.
Mr.
Carver, if you'll just sign these custody transfer forms.
Director may I draw your attention to an NIS case code name Sunburst.
Which dealt with serious allegations of arms smuggling by this man Nikolai Puchenko.
I'm aware of the case, Mr.
Franks.
As I recall, the file was lost, Mike.
I made a copy, Roy.
Jack Vale was the key witness.
He's dead.
You don't have anyone to testify.
I was the case agent.
I'll testify.
Serious enough charges for you, Director Shepard? Take him back into custody.
I'm sorry, Mr.
Carver.
NCIS is not through with this man.
Homeland Security looks forward to reviewing the file.
This is an outrage.
I strongly protest your department's treatment of my client.
Come on.
What did he just say? He said you're a dead man, Mike.
We're taking Puchenko's threat to kill Franks seriously, so right now this is who we have to worry about.
McGee? Arkady Mikhailovich Kobach, late 40s.
Served with Puchenko in the Spetsnaz That's the Soviet Special Forces.
First Afghanistan then Chechnya.
In 1990, Arkady executed three clerks in a payroll office because they could not pay his men.
Then shot the colonel who came to arrest him.
Been dealing arms ever since.
I want a 24-hour protection detail.
DiNozzo, you're team leader.
You're in safe hands, Mike.
I've seen your hands, DiNozzo.
They don't impress me.
I don't need babysitting, Gunny.
I can look after myself.
After spending four months in that crap hole you call a home in Baja, I find that highly debatable.
- Safe house, boss? - Yep.
Mine Make yourself at home, Tony.
Won't touch a thing, boss.
McGee.
We'll be right down.
Boss, Ducky found the bullet.
It's fascinating where bullets can end up.
I once found a.
22 caliber slug in a woman's knee and she'd been shot in the chest.
See, the bullet entered her heart, was pumped down through the aorta into the iliac and on down into the femoral artery.
Extraordinary.
So the missing bullet's in his knee? No, no.
Good heavens, no.
That's much to easy, and anyway, it would have shown up on the X rays.
So where is it? I have no idea.
None at all.
You said you found it.
Well, I have.
I just don't know where.
I can, however, tell you how.
It was Abby who gave me the idea when she said that she would be sick to her stomach if she ever lost evidence.
"Sick," that's the key word.
So I had Abby run some tests of material I took from his esophagus and we found traces of protease pepsin along with all sorts of other things such as sulfides, oleic acid, polyphenols.
But the smoking gun, so to speak, was the presence of triticum durum.
Pasta? Specifically spaghetti cooked with garlic and olive oil.
Spaghetti aglio y olio, as the Romans say.
Very nice with a glass of Sangiovese.
Anyway, anyway, when the bullet became lodged in his stomach, he became sick.
What you might call projectile vomit.
He puked up the bullet? Yeah.
Find the puke and you'll find the projectile.
So you want us to look for a pile of dried-up vomit.
Yes, and I'll need a generous sample so I can positively match it to what I found in the victim.
Oh, and of course, the bullet.
Ziva, McGee, get onto it.
Well, uh, boss, we have narrowed it down to a few city blocks.
Vale must have still been on foot when he was shot or he would have gotten sick in the car.
So maybe a parking garage or a parking lot.
That narrows it down.
Go, go.
Don't come back without the bullet.
Where is Mike? I thought you were supposed to be protecting him.
I was.
I mean, I He was right here.
Couldn't have gone far, boss.
Don't count on it.
Franks? Franks? Couldn't find a broom closet.
How do you know Carver? Just another spook from the old days that made my job difficult.
You never mentioned you made a backup copy of that file.
It was a long time ago, probie.
Is it enough? Should do the trick.
What's in it? Where'd you learn to be such a pain in the ass? Working with you.
There's a lot of people who want to see what's in that file, Mike.
Guess they're going to be disappointed.
There's nothing to see.
But there's plenty to listen to.
Vale was wearing a wire? And I was on the other end of it listening to every word.
Dubbed a copy.
I tell what I heard, audiotape backs me up and everybody's happy except for Nikolai.
Where's the tape? Safe.
How safe? Safe enough that no one's found it for 15 years.
This director, she's okay, I guess, but I get the feeling that you've been working under her a little too long.
The world's changing, Mike.
All the lines are getting blurred, probie.
Hard for a man not to step over them.
And you can call off this protection detail.
- I can take care of myself just fine.
- No, I can't do that, Mike.
All you have to be is half a second slower and you're dead.
Or the other guy just has to be a half-second faster just like it's always been.
I found him, boss! Nice work, DiNozzo.
No Italian restaurants.
Must have eaten somewhere else and driven here.
It couldn't have been this public.
You don't shoot someone where everyone can see you, do you? I never do.
Unless, of course, it can't be helped.
Alleys, service lanes, parking lots.
You hear that? What am I listening for? Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch.
That's Abby's mystery sound.
That explains all the coins.
Coin counter.
Vale must have been waiting to use it when he saw Nikolai.
In the market? Even arms dealers need groceries.
Okay, so he made the 911 call, followed Nikolai into the parking lot.
Ground zero.
I got puke.
That's a lot of regurgitation.
It doesn't look fresh.
It doesn't smell fresh.
Does it ever? That could be blood.
Or the Colonel's special dipping sauce.
Ah! Well, we could toss a coin.
Or not.
All right, give me some gloves.
You didn't pack the gloves.
I thought you packed the gloves.
I didn't pack the gloves.
Give me something.
Uh! There's nothing here.
Hey! Ugh! Uh, you have a tissue or something? We have got to buy some gloves.
This is going to be a long day.
Need-to-know basis, and this one you didn't need to know.
How well you know Carver? - Um, been with Homeland Security since the startup.
- Before that? NSA? Try CIA.
In '91, he was trying to get a sneak peek at top-secret Soviet hardware which links him directly to Puchenko and Kobach.
Sounds speculative.
And if I'm right? If you're right, it probably was Carver who tipped off Kobach and Puchenko when we were going to arrest them in '91.
Hey, and look who pops up to get Nikolai off the hook.
The CIA has a shopping list, Carver is the buyer.
I want him taken out of the loop.
You don't seriously think that Carver's leaking information to Kobach on Mike Franks.
He did it in '91.
No Mike, no case.
Puchenko walks, probably right into a deal with Carver.
Jen.
Listen to me.
Take him off the need-to-know list.
Too late.
Carver's already been briefed.
You're supposed to be inside the house, Mike.
Nice catch.
I must be getting sloppy.
Well, I smelled the cigarette smoke.
I can smoke inside if you want.
I don't think that's a good idea.
Nope.
- Hello.
- DiNozzo, it's Gibbs.
Oh, hey, boss, we were just talking about you.
We got a security problem.
Time to go off script.
Where's Franks? He's right Mike? Mike? Tony? DiNozzo? Tony! I lose any hair? No.
- How is he? - He'll live.
Well, I've been hit harder, boss, by you.
How many were there? I didn't see.
Came up real fast from behind.
The rest of our guys deployed from the house in less than 30 seconds.
But they were already gone.
With Mike? There must have been two teams.
One to take me down, and the other to snatch him.
Whoever did it, they were good.
Sorry, boss.
So why grab him when all they had to do was kill him? He was holding evidence.
Where? He wouldn't tell me.
Well, I guess you didn't hold a blowtorch to his eyeballs to find out.
These guys will.
Yeah.
Gibbs.
Tell her I'm on my way.
Jenny? "Jenny?" Just, uh.
.
how cozy did you two get while I was away? Well, that knock to the head must have been harder than I thought, 'cause I'm saying crazy things that I don't even understand.
You think she's single? He's fine.
People should really chew their food more.
And drink in moderation.
What's that look like? Not puke.
Blood.
This Dumpster could have just been moved here.
You didn't waste any time.
Bad news travels fast.
Especially in this town.
How's your agent? Do you really give a damn? - Any update on Mike Franks? - No.
You expect to find him, Agent Gibbs? He's a resourceful man.
No doubt.
In the meantime, I'd like Nikolai Puchenko released into my custody.
I'm not finished with him.
But you are, Agent Gibbs.
Perhaps your time would be better spent finding out who in your department leaked the location of the safe house where you were keeping your key witness.
Did you? Gibbs.
No.
You did in '91.
If you would like to have this request formalized, Director Shepard, that can be arranged.
I'm sure you didn't mean for that to sound like a threat, Mr.
Carver.
But in the meantime, Mr.
Puchenko will remain in our custody pending our investigation into the disappearance of Mike Franks.
I think you need to look closer to home.
Maybe there was no leak.
Maybe Franks just lost his nerve and ran away.
Or Kobach met his asking price.
You don't know Mike Franks.
And you really think you do? Director.
You've got about an hour and then all hell is going to break loose.
Jethro I really hope you know Mike Franks as well as you think you do.
Marty Allen, please.
Hello.
Mr.
Allen? Mike Franks.
NCIS Mike Franks? One in the same.
What can I do for you? I have something that your client's associate, Arkady Kobach, might be interested in buying.
What might that be? A one-off copy of the audio tape that will send him and your client to prison for 30 years.
If he's interested, what would the price be? $500,000.
You get the tape, and I get to go back to Mexico and retire with a sweet little waitress named Camila Charo.
I'll have to contact my client.
Can I get back to you? Sure.
You got a pen? Hey, - .
.
what kept him? - Business.
God, I hate lawyers.
I demand you release my client, Agent Gibbs.
You got no grounds to hold him.
Your key witness has disappeared.
You have no case.
Oh, you're right.
I don't have a case against your client for arms dealing.
But I do have one for murder.
We deserve a medal.
That look is as close as you're ever going to get, probie.
Nikolai, you have a choice.
You can spend the rest of your life in prison, or you can cut a deal.
And you can tell me where to find your friend, Arkady.
Clear.
Clear.
McGee.
Smoke's from a Russian cigarette.
Arkady hasn't been gone long.
Come on, double time.
Okay, we're on.
Ten calls made in the last day.
Three in the last hour and a half.
First was to a cell phone, Marty Allen.
Second call was to Merchant Bank.
The last call was to a hotel in the port district El Ejecutivo.
Call was made to room seven.
Mexican hotel.
Names and numbers, McGee, starting with the hotel.
Are you sure? That's what the manager said.
Room seven is booked in the name of a Camila Charo, but it was not a woman that paid cash for the room.
It was some old guy.
Franks's brand.
Beer's cold.
But they're all out of lime.
I sent the bar man to buy some.
I told him to take his time.
You've got what I want? And I've got what you want.
Truth is, Arkady, you've got nothing I want.
You think you are the first to point a gun at me? No.
No, but I will be the last.
I knew he was over there.
I figured I could take them both.
Arkady first, then the big guy.
Maybe I am a half second slower.
There was no leak, was there? DiNozzo okay? Boss? Clear! Secure the room.
You set yourself up as bait.
The bigger the bait, the bigger the fish you catch.
Arkady never would have got to court, probie, and you know it.
Carver or whoever else is pulling the strings would have made sure of that.
Another crappy deal.
More innocent people die.
If you think I'm not going to sleep well tonight because of what I just did, then you're wrong.
I'm going to sleep like a baby, because Arkady Kobach was a scary S.
O.
B.
who kept me awake nights for the past 15 years.
Someone else will take his place.
That's your problem, probie.
I got my guy.
Hey.
You got that audio tape? Beer's getting warm.