NCIS

Sweetheart, look,

I meant to come home last night, all right?

Yeah, my class ran late, and I had all those papers...

What are you accusing me of?

Look, I can't deal with this right now.

I got to go. I'll call you later.

Come on.

Hey, it's me.

I'm starting to really lose it here.

I can't keep lying to my wife.

It's killing me.

We need to end this.

Can we meet?

I'm at the park across from the Hayes Hotel.

I'll see you soon.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

Yes, I know, I got it. For the 188th time, I got it.

Yes. The balloons, and the streamers.

I know, I know. What? No, no, no.

No strippers this year.

No!

I got to go. I'll call you back.

Planning a party, Tony?

Not exactly.

It's my father's birthday.

He's planning, I'm paying.

In all kinds of ways.

Well, sounds like he's really into it.

Oh, yeah, he's into it.

Like a little sorority girl.

It's my birthday.

My birthday? Not even a present.

Makes my head hurt.

At least your dad gets in the spirit.

Mine hates birthdays.

My father attended

every birthday party.

But his mind was always elsewhere.

Yeah, I remember one year-- I think I was seven--

I spent all day making this huge card for my dad.

Used paint, glitter, special paper, the works.

I gave it to him that night,

and, uh, he handed it back to me, and said,

"You can do better. Try again."

That is a terrible story, McGee.

Eh, it's just the way he is.

Yeah, but McGee's old man

is a legend, right?

Called him the Great Santini.

Wait a minute. He's a magician?

I thought he was a Navy admiral.

The movie, Ziva-- The Great Santini,

starring the great Robert Duvall who played

the ruthless military pilot and brutal family man

Bull Meechum. - Please don't.

There's those that's got 'em,

and those that don't.

Gonads, son!

Big brass ones!

And there it is.

Kind of makes sense that

you'd end up working for Gibbs, McMeechum.

There are similarities.

He's got big, brass ones.

They're like bowling balls.

That is disgusting.

I'm talking about

tough love tactics, Tony.

The veneer of impenetrability.

His skill at turning one word into a rallying cry.

Gear up.

Guess that's two words, isn't it?

Something funny, DiNozzo?

No, boss. Grabbing my gear.

Got a dead Navy officer downtown.

Nothing funny about that.

Ambushed from behind, boss?

Maybe. How many shots, Duck?

Just one

that I can see, and it was devastating.

It's a single gunshot wound to the side of the head.

Through and through.

Never saw it coming.

He was just enjoying

a beautiful fall morning.

The sun is out, the birds are chirping.

All is right with the world and...

and then, out of nowhere, bam.

Lights out.

Kind of poetic, if you ask me. I...

But you did not ask me, and I apologize.

Time of death, Duck?

Couple of hours ago.

Details?

Uh, Navy Lieutenant Paul Booth.

32 years old, married, no kids.

Wife's being notified as we speak.

Police are ruling out robbery, boss.

Cash, credit cards-- everything's still on him.

Except this.

Found it in the grass.

Could be a company badge.

Here's something weird.

Well, looks like a burn.

Not any burn I've ever seen.

Wow. What was this guy into?

I don't know.

Maybe you can tell us, Tim.

Me? Why?

This can't be mine.

You sure about that?

It's got your name on it.

Matte-white card stock

with clean border

and seven-point Helvetica font.

Oh, my God.

McGee.

Boss, I don't know what this is.

I don't even know this guy.

Well, he knew you.

Lieutenant Paul Booth,

late 2003, right after you started here, McGee.

Ring a bell?

No. I still can't place him.

Okay. Here he is last year.

Anything?

No, and I've checked old files.

He wasn't a friend of a victim,

or a witness in any case.

I mean, none of this makes sense.

How could he have my business card from eight years ago?

I don't even have one of those.

Sit, McGee. We'll figure it out.

Boss, I don't know him, I swear.

Sit.

Lieutenant Paul Booth, AKA McGee's mystery friend,

served two tours

overseas before joining

the Reserves in 2007.

- Criminal background? - Nothing.

By all accounts, a model officer.

Made lieutenant in just three years.

C.O. says he was "highly focused

and driven to succeed."

Officials at Waverly University said the same thing.

Booth taught there as a math professor.

He was praised by colleagues and students.

You know, it looks like

teach was skipping class the past few months.

Taught courses five days a week for three years, and then...

Look at this-- last spring, he cut his schedule down.

One class. Once a week.

That's right.

Officials say he gave no specific

reason for the change.

Maybe he was working someplace else.

Abby I.D.'d the symbol on the badge

as the logo for something called

the Telles Research Group.

Get me an employee database.

Boss, Telles is locked up tight.

For me to get in, I'd have to bypass the Pentagon's mainframe

and go straight into their secure server.

Which I'll happily do.

Why is this group so secret?

These guys develop all kinds of things,

from children's car seats

to advanced military spyware.

They got their headquarters out

in the middle of Virginia somewhere.

Boss, I'm in.

Booth was employed as an analyst

in January 2010.

Reported to Telles vice president John Westfal.

- Yeah? And? - That's it.

All the other files are classified.

Find out what they're hiding.

Tony, Ziva, go talk to Westfal.

Mrs. Booth?

Please tell me this isn't happening.

Sit down.

What do you know about your husband's work?

Paul loved what he did.

He was a great teacher.

When did you last talk?

This morning... pretty early.

Before 6:00, I think.

He sound upset?

More... anxious.

Like he needed to get off the phone with me.

He was like that a lot lately.

For a long time, I thought it was because he was...

he was seeing someone else.

But then...

What?

A few weeks ago, he came home really late.

I looked outside to make sure it was him, and

that's when I saw...

There was someone was parked across the street, Agent Gibbs.

Watching him.