NCIS s12e09 Episode Script

Grounded

Washington, DC, hasn't seen snow like this for Thanksgiving in decades.
The roads are slick, and visibility is near zero.
A bitterly cold windchill makes our nation's capital feel more like the frozen Arctic.
What caused the shift in temperatures is this high-pressure system that you can see I've flown in worse, honey.
Paris.
Yeah.
Quick there and back.
No leftovers-- I will be there to cut the turkey.
I know, I know.
There's my cab.
Love you.
I'll just be another minute.
in Fairfax, not much better, and along the coast, our coldest temperatures, as we will dip down into the teens.
The forecast of scattered showers in some areas was quickly turned into the wet, icy accumulation that we are seeing out there right now.
So, let's go ahead and take a look at our local temperatures.
Now, in DC, we can expect lows into the 20s.
In Fairfax, not much better, and along the coast, our coldest temperatures, as we will dip down into the teens.
This could let up at any time, but for the moment, we can expect one rough Thanksgiving weekend ahead.
Let's go ahead and take a look at our local temperatures Somehow a "White Thanksgiving" never sounds quite right.
Tell me about it.
Yesterday you were calling this a "chance of rain.
" Is he here yet? Is he here yet? Did I miss him? I just hung up with him, Abbs-- he's getting on the elevator.
One very fast elevator.
Hey.
Ellie, he's adorable.
Aw, thanks.
Jake Malloy, this is the amazing Abby.
- Oh.
Uh, I-I could've guessed.
- Hi.
And this is McGee.
Tim McGee.
Tim.
Of course.
Ellie's been singing your praises all year.
It's great to finally meet you both.
Emphasis on "finally.
" Yeah.
I know.
Um, I'm sorry again, Abby, about missing your Halloween party.
Oh, that's okay-- I'm sure you had some super big, top secret emergency NSA meeting that you couldn't miss.
Uh, we were being audited, actually.
But yes-- once again, my job forced a last-minute change of plans.
But not tonight.
No.
We are spending the holiday in Turks and Caicos with Jake's family, no matter what.
You better get going, then.
Gibbs.
This is Jake, yeah.
How you doing? Gibbs.
Wow.
I'm good.
Um, listen, I can't thank you enough for what you've meant to Ellie this past year.
All of you.
She's earned it.
Turks, huh? Turks for Turkey Day.
Yeah.
Uh, the country Turkey might have been a little too on the nose.
Uh, well, Gibbs is right-- - we should get going.
Yeah.
- Yeah, we should.
Tony should be into Dulles about now.
DiNozzo-- that's who's missing.
His father's flying in from London.
Maybe you'll see him there.
Or maybe not.
Airport's gonna be nuts.
Actually, I'm thinking the snow might thin the crowds a little.
All right, well, we'll see you guys.
Nice meeting you.
Your attention please-- Do not leave any baggage unattended Are you sure I was okay? You heard Abby-- you were adorable.
But that Gibbs-- I was babbling away about Turkey, and he's just looking at me with that look.
The Gibbs look.
Hello? Did you think I was making it up? You were great.
Really.
You okay? You seem on edge lately.
The flight? No, no.
I'm good flying.
Okay.
Just, um, I don't know, the holidays, I guess.
I'm fine.
Okay.
We are so overdue for this.
Ah.
Sun, sand, warm, blue water It's not as warm as you'd think this time of year.
Tony! I thought I was gonna be stuck all by my lonesome when they announced Dad's flight took off late, when what should appear but a Thanksgiving miracle! Agent DiNozzo, I presume? The elusive Jake.
It's nice to know Bishop hasn't been catfishing us all year-- I was starting to wonder.
Well, you can stop wondering, Tony.
As you can see, Jake is quite real.
Unless he's a hologram that can shake hands.
NSA's actually working on one of those-- I've seen the prototype.
Yeah, that'd be pretty fun.
Really? No.
Ah.
Aha.
Had me for a second.
That's too bad-- 'cause I'd like one of those.
I like him.
He's quick.
Hey, speaking of quick, how'd you get all the way up here? Arrival pickups never get past Customs.
It's all about the badge, Bish-- you got to know how to flash it.
Oh.
Oh, my.
The classic Smelly Guy.
Yet another vivid hue in the broad spectrum of airport humanity.
Did he come straight from the gym? Two gyms and a cheese shop.
And he's going to Turks.
Oh, my God, we're 12A and B.
Oh, we'll be fine.
No.
You'll die.
Would it be awful to change seats? Not as awful as composting right before you come to the airport.
Ugh! Okay, wish me luck.
Jake, real quick.
The metabolism-- how does she eat like that? Pretty, isn't it? Uh, oh.
Yes, dear.
It's just lovely, mm-hmm.
It's lovely how it turned a one-hour drive into three, soaked a brand-new pair of my shoes right down to the toes.
Yeah.
Simply spectacular.
Well, at least we'll be getting away from it for the holiday.
I'm going to Calgary.
Ladies and gentlemen, due to the unexpected weather conditions, all incoming and outgoing flights are being temporarily delayed.
Every effort is being made to clear the runways, but until the snow lets up, everyone get comfortable-- could be an hour could be more.
Ooh.
Excuse me.
Hey, I said excuse me.
Yeah, I heard you.
Is there a problem, sir? I don't know.
Is there? I heard my wife say "excuse me" just now.
Doesn't that get an "excuse me" in return? It's all right, Jake.
Some people just have better manners than others.
That's okay, miss-- your husband's right.
My bad.
Forget it, Jake.
It's Chinatown.
Your name's Jake-- you never heard that? All my life, Mr.
Mulwray.
You okay? Fine.
You didn't have to.
No, I kind of did.
Do we know that guy from somewhere? There's something about him.
I've never seen him before.
Like from our supermarket? Maybe we go to the same dry cleaner? Well, while you keep guessing, why don't I go see if we can switch these seats, huh? All right.
All right.
Could we know him from work? All I know is, flight delays make nice people cranky and cranky people crankier.
Well, he obviously falls under the latter category.
that's not how I do things, understand? Yeah.
Definitely the latter.
How do I know that guy? So, anyway, there I was, still trying to be cool on my second day at NSA.
It was my second day; your third.
Right.
I always mix that up.
Mm-hmm.
Anyway, I suddenly found myself needing a G-7 encryption form.
Which are very hard to come by.
Try impossible.
But there was one left.
And as I'm reaching for it this.
.
force of nature beats me to it.
I mean, we laugh about it now, but the rest, as they say, is history.
I hate couples.
You asked how we met.
Granted, you kind of had to be there.
Oh, no.
No, not you guys.
You're great.
Just couples in general.
The Jamaican resort I went to last Christmas, it was couples only.
And you were flying solo? Changed my perspective.
Couples everywhere.
It was crazy.
Look at this airport-- it's got every variety.
Like those guys-- Self-Important Pete and his Electric Lady.
Course, they haven't spoken directly to each other since the brownout of '06.
Then there's those two-- Daddy Issues Debbie and her college professor Marty Midlife-- teaching her all he knows about advanced economics - and the Kama Sutra.
- Wait.
Tony, that's no couple.
They're clearly father and daughter.
Think so? Yeah.
Watch the hands.
The hands tell you everything.
I stand corrected, and disturbed.
Okay what about our cranky friend over there? Sum him up for us, Tony.
Cranky car salesman.
Lonely childhood.
Behind on his quota.
Regretting his life choices.
Not a couple.
And not familiar to either of you? Geez, Ellie, let it go.
I'm trying, but he's right there.
You know, Tony, I don't mean to pin this on NCIS, but Ellie became much more suspicious about people since she joined you guys.
That is so not true.
Oh, you really like talking bad guys.
Well, I have to talk about something, since we can't talk shop anymore.
When we were both at NSA, we'd debrief every night after work-- but now that he's restricted from telling me anything, all I can do is talk about what we do every day.
Chase bad guys.
So I get where I may seem more suspicious, but I'm not.
Hey, why don't I get us some coffee.
Well, there's Dirk, if it's a boy, obviously, or Oskar, with a "K.
" Oskar Palmer-- that's a lot of R's.
Hmm.
If it's a girl, we're thinking, uh, Freda, Greta, Liesel-- something sort of Von Trapp-ish.
Come on, McGee, up and at 'em.
Workday's over.
We're talking baby names and snow angels.
Can't right now.
Maybe later.
What do we got, McGee? How about you, Agent Gibbs? When was the last time you made a good snow angel? 'Cause it's it's snowing.
McGee.
NTAS just issued an alert: possible terrorist chatter.
They pick up chatter all the time.
Subject is northeast U.
S.
airports.
Attention, passengers-- due to extreme weather conditions Oop.
Sorry.
Uh Oh, hey.
You again.
Look, about before, uh, my husband has quite the chivalrous streak.
Uh-huh.
But, you know, now that I've run into you again do we know each other? I feel like we've met before.
Yeah.
I don't think so.
Has that ever happened to you? You see a face, you just can't place it? Not really, no.
Oh.
Delays are a drag, huh? Where you headed? Home to see family? Paris.
Business.
Ah, Paris.
Huh.
Who doesn't love Paris? Have a safe trip.
Excuse me.
Sure.
Now you say "excuse me.
" Thanks.
We're just killing time waiting for the storm to blow over.
How credible a threat is it? It's elevated.
Pretty typical this time of year, but worth calling about.
Well, man of few words.
Maybe I'm wrong.
She's not talking about you, boss.
Bishop's husband know anything? Uh, there was some talk of chatter.
Just some memos going around the office, but Chatter? Well, snowstorm Yeah.
will probably keep the terrorists home anyway, right? Yeah.
It also keeps first responders and emergency service vehicles from getting through, DiNozzo, so keep your eyes open.
Copy that.
You have been on edge.
You knew.
We're just hearing the chatter now? NSA heard about it days ago.
Well, I'm I'm a lawyer, Tony.
My ear's not exactly pressed to the pipeline.
So, you didn't tell me? I didn't want to ruin our trip.
Seriously? You know most chatter doesn't lead anywhere.
All it manages to do is scare people.
I also know that you would have never kept a secret if I was still at NSA.
It's not a secret, Ellie, it's just a you know, slightly calculated omission.
You know what that sounds like? Like a reasonable justification.
I think she was going for "lie," but "to-may-to, to-mah-to," let's not argue semantics.
Let's talk national security.
It's Thanksgiving, in an airport, and we have the usual menagerie.
Here comes Walking Boot Wendy.
Clearly faking it, in hopes of a free upgrade.
I see you, Wendy.
I see right through you.
Ah, and the inevitable Pajama Man.
Rolls out of bed, grabs his passport.
Sees the world as his futon.
Brad Pitt wants his hat back, hipster.
Seriously, what are people thinking? My parents actually used to dress up to fly.
Mine still does.
You'll meet him when he gets here.
Huh.
Like that guy over there.
Dapper Don.
That's what I'm talking about.
Jetting off to exotic locales, like James Bond chasing after Pussy Galore.
No smelly tracksuit for that dude.
What's with my Car Salesman? Thought you said you were wrong about him.
Well, I said maybe, but look at his pant cuff, Tony.
Is that a gun? Could be.
We have guns.
Not Ellie.
Uh she packed hers.
No, actually, mine's on me.
Well, I-I thought you said you weren't comfortable traveling with it.
Well, I wasn't at first, but it's become kind of a habit.
Listen, this guy could be law enforcement, so let's show him ours and ask to see his.
What, guns? Badges.
Hey.
Sorry to bother you.
Again, you mean? Yeah.
Uh, but this time I need to see some I.
D.
Well, too bad.
I'm not Navy.
She asked you a question.
You're making a big mistake.
Freeze.
Hands where I can see them.
Oh.
Okay.
Well, what's his deal? I'm an air marshal.
Mike Beers.
Thanks for blowing my cover.
Sorry I drew on you, Mr.
Beers.
These two kind of forced my hand.
Just doing your job, Officer.
But I will have to warn my fellow air marshals about skittish Navy cops.
Okay, you could have quietly said something when I badged you.
And you are aware of the recent chatter? It's my job to know.
But look, I don't think anyone waiting for my Paris flight saw that, anyway, so let's just forget it.
All right.
No hard feelings, Mr.
Beers.
I guess we could all use one.
One what? A beer.
Your name.
Ah.
Right.
Huh.
"Huh" what? It's Gibbs.
Want me to tell him? No, let me.
Put him on speaker.
You've got us both, Gibbs.
You got anything to report? Nothing, boss.
Just compared notes with a rather cranky air marshal.
He's aware of the chatter.
Does he know that the chatter has changed? Threat level's been increased, and now it specifically mentions DC metropolitan airports.
That is a game changer.
It still could be nothing.
Just keep your heads on a swivel.
Call if anything's changed.
You got anything else? Yeah, actually, Gibbs No.
That's it.
Thanks.
We should have told Gibbs.
Later.
Come on, McGee, answer.
Aren't you gonna get that? Yes? Don't tell Gibbs it's me.
Okay.
Yes? The air marshal I mentioned before-- I need you to dig up anything you can on him.
Name is Mike Beers.
Well, that could take a while.
TSA personnel files are always tightly wrapped.
What's this about? Bishop knows the guy from somewhere.
She's trying to figure out why.
Soon as you can, McGee.
Yeah.
Don't look at me.
Just do it.
Is everything okay? What took so long? The air marshal, where'd he go? He's, um the charging station.
What was that about, Tony? Nothing I'm gonna tell Gibbs until we're sure about this guy.
Sure about what? Well, that joke I told back there.
It's like Jake with Chinatown.
Anybody named Beers would be sick to death of a joke like that.
That guy acted like he never heard it before.
In strictly legal terms, Tony, someone having no sense of humor won't get you probable cause.
Until we hear back from McGee, that's cause enough for me.
Mind if I get Abby in the loop? Do it.
Beers.
Beers.
Hey, Beers.
Hey, come here, Beers.
Beers Palmer.
Huh? That's different.
Do you want your kid to like you? Anything on the air marshal? Whoa.
You know about this guy? McGee's got the name, you got the picture-- what's the big secret? I think that Bishop and Tony didn't want you to know that they blew his cover.
And why did I just tell you that? - And why do you know that? - Because he's very, very nosy.
So far, no hits on facial recognition.
Abby, hey Whoa.
Boss.
McGee? He knows, Tim.
I talk too much.
That your guy's info? Come here.
Yeah, just, uh just came in.
Abby, check your in-box, please.
Uh, I just sent you his I.
D.
photo.
Oh.
Great.
Facial comparison should get us somewhere.
Michael Beers, 41, retired Marine.
Air marshal since 2010.
Lives up in Syracuse.
- Wife and two kids.
- I'm digging this guy's glasses.
Those would be cute on you, Gibbs.
I mean, not that squinting isn't totally super cute on you, too.
I checked his accounts, boss-- he's got an open credit card at a motel about a mile from here.
Never checked out? Not yet, anyway.
Well, okay, red flag city here.
As much as these two look alike, the key markers-- it's definitely not a match.
Well, who's that at the airport? I don't know.
But whoever it is, it's not Air Marshal Mike Beers.
All right, boss.
You got it; we won't.
Won't what? Why couldn't that be on speaker? Gibbs doesn't want to alert the innocent bystanders that our friend over there is an imposter.
You were right.
You were right.
We were both right.
Then who is he? Not a clue.
All we know is he's got a gun, maybe worse.
Gibbs says he's got a backup unit on the way.
We don't make any moves until they get here.
I'm gonna let McGee know.
I can't believe you do this every day.
Well, not every day, and not like this.
You sure we're not too conspicuous? Not if we stand here like we're just talking to each other.
We are talking to each other.
You two with NCIS? I am.
Special Agent Ellie Bishop.
Special Agent DiNozzo.
And I'm Jake Malloy.
Lieutenant Janet Lewis.
Now, where is this alleged imposter? He just went into the men's room.
Calm and cool.
Secure this whole area.
No one enters until I say.
Not quite the cavalry we were expecting.
Yeah, well, I expected to be home right now getting my cranberries started, but we can't have everything.
You have your service weapons? Oh, not me.
I'm a-an attorney, with NSA.
Attorneys stand over there, please.
Be careful.
I will be.
Adorable.
Okay, now, let's keep our weapons out of sight until we get in there.
Last thing we want to do is panic this crowd.
Can't we just evacuate this terminal? What's the last thing we want? No panic.
Right.
Okay, is the tutorial over? Let's get in there.
Out of here.
Beers, is that you? It's Janet Lewis, Beers.
You haven't been answering your phone.
Everything all right? Beers? Oh, my God.
You're right, that's not Beers.
But it sure looks like him.
He's not anybody anymore.
Looks like a stab wound.
All right, it's time to shut down the airport.
Not a problem.
We've been unofficially shut down for the last 20 minutes.
No vehicles in or out until this storm ends.
His gun's gone, Tony.
Great.
We're snowed in here with an airport full of cranky passengers, a dead fake air marshal, and his killer somewhere on the loose, with a knife and a gun.
Anybody else feel like they're playing "Clue"? Unbelievable.
These shots will be coming to you from Jake's phone, McGee.
We'll send them to Ducky, too.
I think he's gonna be busy for a while.
"And it ain't a fit night out for man nor beast.
" Yet I'm the one who had to get out and push the van, Shakespeare.
That was W.
C.
Fields, Mr.
Palmer, in The Fatal Glass of Beer.
And I predict you will be pushing it again on the way back.
You carry crime scene gloves now, too? Well, it's become kind of a habit.
No I.
D.
on him, McGee, other than the air marshal credentials.
If I had your crime scene gizmo, I could get his prints.
Do you have any adhesive tape and baby powder handy? Wait, hold on, Bishop.
Is that Beer's wallet? Yeah.
Killer took his credentials but not this.
Driver's license, cash, credit cards-- it's all there.
What are you thinking? He wasn't looking to play air marshal very long.
Just long enough to go to the airport to do what he needed to do.
Whatever that was, he was obviously killed before he got the job done.
Unless his job was to kill Beers and take his identity.
And deliver his weapon to the airport.
But deliver it to who? And why? Why would someone deliver a gun just to end up dead himself? Honor among thieves? That's not really a thing.
Beers was a good man.
But our TSA screeners don't know every air marshal on sight.
New ones come through here every day.
At least now we know what all the chatter was about.
But whoever's got the gun is outside, waiting to use it.
So we start searching passengers.
That's one sure way to force our killer's hand.
I was thinking of a less violent idea.
He had to walk right past us in the eight minutes we were waiting outside.
We have a surveillance camera pointed right at that door.
Be right back, Bishop.
Okay, Tony.
I never should have doubted you.
Well, you didn't.
You're helping me.
No, I-I mean before-- when you said this guy was suspicious.
I just thought I knew him.
I still don't know why.
Grab his arm.
What? Yeah, just don't touch his skin.
Oh.
Perfect.
Bandage? Right here.
Okay I can't get over your speed.
You used to spend months researching, analyzing, planning-- now you just go.
Jake, I'm still the same person.
The same person having a conversation over a dead body.
You guys know I'm still here, right? Any luck on those prints? Uh, yeah.
We got one, McGee.
Sending it straight to Abby.
Is that what I think it is? Low-tech but effective.
Who's lead officer on this wing? Uh I'm real sorry, Lieutenant.
I don't know how we missed that.
Well, the good news is, there are other cameras pointed in this direction-- we just have to look at that footage.
Restrooms stay closed until we can an M.
E.
here.
And no one leaves until I check surveillance.
Yes, ma'am.
All right, let's go.
Go? No.
We got this.
No, clearly, you're shorthanded.
I appreciate your help, Agent DiNozzo, but airport surveillance is for TSA and our eyes only.
That's Homeland's rules, not mine.
Excuse me.
Excuse me.
Look, delays are bad enough, but now the bathrooms? Do you know who I am? There's something going on here, and you are not telling us.
Folks, please, there's no cause for alarm.
Passenger just had a medical issue in there.
Excuse me.
I'm a doctor.
Can I help? Ah.
thank you, Doctor.
No, we've got everything under control.
That's a sharp suit.
Kudos to your tailor.
But everyone, can I have your attention? Thank you for your patience, but we do have a medical emergency, so in the spirit of the holiday, can we all just have a good wish-- - Give it a rest, you pretty boy! - Excuse me, I don't think that's necessary.
You cram it, too! Appreciate the help, Doc.
- Nice suit.
- Clear this area, please.
Everybody, can we just clear out of this area? There is another restroom under the stairs to the left.
What's going on out here? Angry mob getting angrier.
And somebody's still packing.
There you are.
City roads are bad enough-- forget about getting to the airport.
That our fake air marshal? I.
D.
'd from the fingerprint that Bishop sent over.
Facial recognition came up empty for a reason.
This guy is a notorious chameleon.
Well, it would explain why Bishop found him familiar, but not familiar enough.
Norman Dopps.
Name rings a bell.
Maybe because he comes up on our Most Wanted updates every week.
He's this go-to jack-of-all-trades for organized crime families and drug cartels and other horrible people that can afford him.
Any terrorist affiliation? Probably the only thing that's not on his record.
Why? Chatter may not be about him.
Not so fast, boss.
Chatter's changed again.
Look at this.
On it, Gibbs.
We'll call you back.
I knew I'd seen his face before; the Most Wanted updates.
I check them religiously.
Well, I guess I'm only mildly religious.
What did Gibbs say, Tony? Homeland now thinks it's an assassination plan.
Assassination of who? - This guy? - No.
He was delivering the gun to an assassin who is likely sitting out there right now.
Well, then they should just shut down the terminal and question everybody.
And let it happen again somewhere else? No dice.
We got a locked room full of suspects out there, Inspector Poirot.
Yeah, and if the target's out there, too, he'd probably be dead already.
It's got to be someone on an incoming flight.
McGee's running manifests right now, but Oh.
There he is.
Well, that was fast, McGenius.
Hey.
Manifests are on their way.
In the meantime, Gibbs wants to keep an extra set of eyes on you.
But security at the airport won't let us access their surveillance.
Yeah.
They're very touchy about their cameras around here.
Yeah, so much for interagency cooperation.
Well, uh, look, if a camera's what's needed, maybe, uh maybe this'll do.
On three.
One, two Rest there, Mr.
Beers.
We'll get back to you shortly.
Bishop's photos from the airport.
Yeah, let's take a look at this imposter.
Whoa.
Is that me? Most likely the storm wreaking havoc with the power grid.
Well, we still have power.
Yeah, well, let's work quickly, Mr.
Palmer, while we still can.
Abby said our dead fake air marshal's name is Norman Dopps.
Norman.
There's a name, huh? Well, the Normans were Vikings.
They settled on part of the coast of France.
Yes, on what one day would become known as Normandy.
See, now, that history is great, but I just couldn't do it to the little guy.
Norman is a bit too Psycho- ish.
You could always shorten it to Norm.
Norm? Norm! Nah, see, I'd have to fight the urge to give the kid a beer.
Oh.
Here we go.
Ah.
Murder on the lavatory.
Bishop sent these in the second e-mail.
Yeah, it's quite a nasty and narrow puncture wound.
From a plastic knife, or something that could get past security? No, no, no, no, no.
Something stronger, to pierce the rib cage.
A nylon dagger.
Or carbon fiber, perhaps.
And based on the incision, it seems to have been twisted, twisted on entry.
For maximum damage.
Mm, clearly, an expert kill.
How soon till we get these up to Jethro? Oh I can bring them on my tablet.
Do you know the meaning of the name Jethro? Ah, there would be some large shoes to fill.
But what's in a name, Mr.
Palmer? "That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.
" That is Shakespeare, right? No, no, no.
It's W.
C.
Fields again.
Oh.
He had a million of 'em.
How's that angle for you, Tim? Can you see? It's the west side entrance to the terminal.
Yeah, a little higher, Jake? Higher.
Hm.
Okay.
How's that? That's good.
Not bad.
He's adorable, and he's tech-savvy.
Yeah, that'll work, Jake.
Thank you.
Not my first body on a toilet, Jethro, but always a disturbing sight.
Single blade to the left of the manubrium.
I'd wager that his heart was pierced in a single thrust.
- Do you need help? - Yeah, is there anything we can do? Yeah.
You can help McGee go through the manifest.
Both of you-- names and faces.
Duck, take a look at the crowd-- looking for anything or anyone that doesn't look right.
At an airport? Let me count the ways.
All right, we've only got outgoing flights so far.
Basic passenger info's printed on there, along with passport photos.
So our killer's in the mix? Likely, under an alias.
McGee, what is the holdup on those manifests? Well, systems are down everywhere, boss.
Every airline and agency's backed up.
I don't care.
Our killer's target could be on one of those inbound flights.
- I'll keep calling.
- On the bright side, it looks like the snow's starting to let up.
Geez, when you're looking for bad guys They all look like bad guys.
Well, it's letting up out there.
Oh, finally, some relief.
Yet I don't feel relieved.
What? What are you doing? Surveillance gave us nothing.
Oh, wait, not true-- I got to watch your initial takedown of our fake air marshal.
Very stealthy.
If you search these people, you risk cornering our killer-- that could end very badly.
Which is the same fight I just had with Homeland, and lost.
With three flights low on fuel and coming in for landings, they want this missing gun found right now.
- Three flights landing? - We didn't know anything about that.
Ladies and gentlemen, we're happy to report some good news.
Tower confirms one runway has now been cleared to allow landings from incoming flights from London, Athens and Brussels.
What does that do for us? How much longer do we have to wait? The first flight should be touching down in about 15 minutes! Thanks again for your patience.
Well, so much for not forcing our gunman's hand.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any more interesting.
You have no idea.
Tony's dad is on that London flight.
Come on.
Figure it out.
Who's the target on the plane? Who's the hit man? Let's talk possible hit people first.
We have a Joseph McBride.
He's 49, from Springfield, Virginia.
He's a lobbyist for a chemical company.
Next.
Ruth Potts, retired schoolteacher, who wouldn't hurt a fly, obviously.
Just look at that sweet lady.
Next.
Thanks.
Boss, I got 'em.
Manifests for inbound flights arriving to Dulles tonight.
Okay, divvy 'em up.
Deal me in as well.
We are looking for a target significant enough to warrant killing a federal air marshal.
Ladies and gentlemen, due to the extended delay, TSA is now required to perform a second routine screening.
We apologize for any inconvenience, but we'll begin with Calgary flight 3184.
If those passengers could calmly line up over there, please? Thank you.
TSA isn't saying anything about landing order, Gibbs.
They're all low on fuel, so it's first come, first serve.
Stay alert, Bishop.
We're watching.
Okay.
What are they going to ask us to do next? Somebody's really gonna get hurt.
Maybe they should've just shut down the terminal.
And miss catching Professor Plum red-handed in the conservatory with the wrench? Don't tell me you're enjoying this.
You know the NSA, sweetheart-- we don't get out much.
London, Brussels, Athens Speaking of Brussels-- fun fact: the Brussels sprout-- Americans like to drop the "S" and just say "Brussel," but Jimmy.
Put a sock in it, Mr.
Palmer.
Find the target, people.
Let's go, let's go.
Come on.
Ladies and gentlemen, we will now be re-screening Paris flight 8247.
Why screen us twice? It's not like any of us have gone anywhere.
I know, but it only took a minute.
Miss, can I give you a hand? Thank you for helping me.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
You got something, Abbs? The London flight.
Two Colombian federal agents and an unnamed third party.
Scheduled to deplane at Dulles, and then connect on a later flight to Bogotá.
Opportunity.
McGee.
Working on it.
Opportunity, Agent Gibbs? Two feds and an unnamed party.
Got to be a foreign leader, protected witness or fugitive.
All possible targets for someone.
That changing flights at Dulles would be a vulnerable moment and the killer's one chance to exact revenge.
It's a great catch, Abbs.
They're escorting Hector Gomez, a high-level member of Cartel Dominguez.
Wanted for the murder of a rival cartel dealer.
Gomez was captured hiding out in Wales, of all places.
Colombian authorities were extraditing him this morning.
That outgoing flight to Bogotá, do we have a manifest? There isn't one yet.
Must have been a private charter.
Who in that terminal is Colombian? Tell me about recent trips to South America, e-mails, anything.
Cross-referencing DEA and CIA.
That's a needle in a haystack.
A haystack controlled by the world's most dangerous drug cartel.
Hey, so, are those your fancy flying pajamas, or just your everyday casuals? Dude, I'm not getting re-screened.
Uh-huh.
Why's that? What Don't.
That's not mine.
Go get re-screened.
Dude.
Um, it's the London flight, Tony.
Our killer is waiting for it.
Who's the target? Hector Gomez.
Who? Ladies and gentlemen, we're pleased to announce the arrival of flight 3182 from London, now de-boarding at gate 212.
You got anything? Who knew so many people travelled through Colombia? Wait.
Who was that? Back it up.
That is Alberto Velez, born in Santo Domingo.
Who is that? Abby, get rid of his beard.
Lighten his hair.
Clean him up.
I get it.
I totally know where you're headed.
Cross-reference him with the terminal crowd.
Got him.
I'm gonna have to ask you folks to clear this area here, please.
Thank you.
Excuse me.
Lana, is it? I'm afraid you can't let anyone off that plane.
They've been circling for hours.
I only take orders from TSA.
Tell her, Ellie.
What's this all about? Have you found a gun yet? No, but we're not done screening.
Well, unless you want an assassination on your hands, you're gonna move that plane to another gate.
This is the only gate that's cleared, and the plane's already de-boarding.
Oh, no.
Oh, yes.
Ladies and gentlemen, we are now pleased to announce the arrival of flight 3182 from London, now deplaning at gate 212.
Esto es para ti, Gomez! Esto es para ti! Ah, lookie here.
Dr.
Dapper in the men's room with the carbon fiber knife.
Happy Thanksgiving.
How we doing, McGee? Good, boss.
Bishop and Jake made their flight.
And I actually got a text from Tony.
Apparently, Senior missed his flight from London and neglected to tell him.
So Tony didn't have to be there? Nope.
But he's gonna go back tomorrow.
Senior-- he never disappoints.
And as for our giving thanks, would anyone care to join me for a celebratory cocktail? On me, of course.
Oh, then I'm in.
Me, too.
Me three! Me three! Gibbs? No, wait.
Before that I have a better idea.
Snow angels.
I'll give you one.