NCIS: Origins

I'm investigating the murder of Pedro Hernandez.

-You think it was Gibbs? -Yes.

I turned over my rifle.

What?

I gave my rifle to Macy.

Good luck with everything. I'm done.

If you move forward with this, my life with be over.

My JAG contact felt

I didn't have sufficient evidence to pursue this further.

Gibbs must've just been making up stories, huh?

You are suspended indefinitely.

I'll be here as interim SAC.

Mikey, it's me. It's your brother.

Maybe you could give me some advice

for getting on track to-to being SAC.

Talk like that makes me question

whether you should be in the field at all.

Diane. You want to give me the tour or what?

This is a story I don't tell.

The story of her.

Without Lala, the days went by slow.

Without her, the team wasn't what it used to be.

Without her, we had Wheeler.

His suspension could only last so long,

so Regional Director Barrett

demoted him and stuck him back in the field with us.

Franks wasn't adjusting to the change very well.

Thing is, it wasn't just Lala we were missing.

Randy was officially on desk duty,

thanks to the doubts he raised about being in the field.

His job was to type all the case files

from storage into the computer.

But the minute he started,

Randy knew he needed off that desk.

Risk or not, he was made to be a field agent.

But Barrett said there was no hard evidence

to support that.

So, Randy's only escape

was his old yellow boombox.

Speaking of escaping,

there was a lot of that going around.

We weren't solving cases as quick,

suspects were getting away.

There was a drug house called the Roach House.

We went there five times in two months to shut it down.

Still couldn't get the job done.

The job wasn't right without her.

And home wasn't much better.

Franks had Gary Callahan sleep over most nights.

The place still felt empty without Tish.

He tried a few times to talk things through

with his brother Mason on the phone,

but it always ended up with someone getting hung up on.

Don't look at me like that.

It's more complicated than you think.

I got my rifle back from Lara Macy,

but I didn't know Lala was the reason why.

I took it out now and then to maintain it,

keep my mind busy since therapy was a crock,

and I still didn't know what to build with the wood I got.

I tried to keep my mind busy at the office, too.

Wheeler took over Lala's desk.

I didn't like it, but

I just tried to keep my head down and do the work.

I looked at every victim.

Looked at them hard.

Looked at them until they became my brother,

my sister, my mother,

my father,

until all I could think about was them,

instead of thinking about what happened in that pool.

The neighbors never knew about

how Lala used to sneak into their pool to swim.

The neighbors only knew that, one day, a few months back,

a nice young woman asked permission to use it.

Muscle of her left thigh was crushed,

collapsed lung,

traumatic brain injury.

That's what she was working to overcome.

According to her,

the rehab the hospital gave her wasn't enough...

...so she started working on her own.

A lot of long nights, too.

She pushed herself to the limit

as long as she could take it.

Because all she cared about was getting back to work...

...so we wouldn't have to be without her.

I am telling you respectfully, sir, this team ain't working.

Well, sounds like a problem of leadership.

Leadership, my ass.

Pardon my French, sir, but Cliff Wheeler's got no business

being out in the field. Tell him, probie.

-Gibbs! -Yeah.

Yeah. Trading Wheeler for Randy would be better.

-100%. -Look, you two come in here

whining like it's gonna mean something, but I got

zero hard evidence

telling me to reassign Wheeler or Randolf.

You want evidence?

We just came from the Roach House.

-Fourth time in two months. -Fifth.

They still pedaling dope to our boys?

Yeah, and every time, half them jokers

run right out the door thanks to Wheeler's shenanigans.

All right, look, he got his ass in a bind

heading up this office, I will give you that,

but before that, you don't make SAC without

a hell of a field record, Franks.

Yeah, but you lose your instincts

sitting on a desk that long.

He's out there talking like a jackass, handling his weapon

-like a halfwit. -And the IBS.

You add that to the man's angry bowels,

he's a walking hazard out there, sir.

Sir, I want the record

to show that the fiasco at the Roach House

this afternoon was not my fault.

Yeah.

Just give him his old desk back.

He's good at stuff up here, sir.

I concur, sir, I feel that I have

more than done my penance, and the word is,

Regional C.O. is clamoring to have you

-back at your post. -Excuse me, sir.

The classified Pre-Embargo Cuban Report you requested.

Oh, thank you, darling.

Sir.

Sir, I realize that you want hard evidence,

but frankly, you are wasting Randolf's talents at that desk.

Rando's a people person.

And I am an "upstairs office" person.

Mary Jo.

Was Barrett looking at my butt on the way out?

Uh, don't know. I-Is that, uh...

You know what that report was, the one I gave him?

Statistics on the availability of rare cigars.

That sleazebag is a waste

of my typewriter ribbon.

The more papers you hand him,

the more important he thinks he is.

-What? -Any cases come in?

No, baby. Slow day.

Well, what's that?

This? Background on a missing Marine.

Sorry, honey, you can't take it.

Dalton Basement already started working on it a half-hour ago.

Something to put your brain on,

so you don't have to think about other stuff, huh?

I'll tell Dalton I screwed up the rotation.

Thank you.

Marine's name is PFC Thomas Meyers. 19 years old.

He was late for dinner. His mother called it in.

Tommy has never missed

a dinner with me. Never.

Something's not right.

Is there anyone else he could be with?

No.

Not besides the list I gave you.

I'm sorry, I-I-I've kept you way too long.

You were so kind to stop by before.

No, you haven't kept me too long, ma'am.

I just...

Tommy has a huge heart, you know?

He loves everyone. He's trusting.

He's really trusting,

and that scares me.

Please just call me when you know anything.

I will.

Thank you, Agent Gibbs.

-Was that the mother again? -Mm.

-Come back to bed. -Mm.

I'm working.

I see that.

What's the thing?

I've seen you do, what, like, four cases now?

Every time, there's something in it

that makes it impossible for you to look away.

What's the thing with this one?

Your missing Marine.

I knew guys like this when I was in the Corps.

Great guy, not the most talented.

It ain't easy being Marine.

Guys like this would get bullied until someone stepped in.

Something tells me you were that someone.

I'll make some coffee.

You know Janet? She said to me,

"Diane, this guy you're dating, all he cares about is work."

You know how Janet is, on and on.

Ugh.

And I said, "Yeah, he gets these cases,

and he shuts out everything else to solve them."

I said to her, "I love that about him.

It's heroic."

You're gonna bring that Marine home...

...'cause you're not gonna look away until it's done.

Just like always.

I love that about you.

No, sir. No, there's no bullying,

no hazing.

I don't allow that type of thing in my team