Gibbs and DiNozzo visit the NSA's high-tech, futuristic National Security Operations Center and are greeted by NSA Special Agent Chad Flynderling. "You can call me Flynn," the agent as he shakes their hands.
"Flynn?" DiNozzo asks, "Like Jeff Bridges in Tron?"
Flynn snatches his hand back quickly. "That's original," he snaps before apologizing. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm sensitive to NSA's public perception right now. We're not just a bunch of reclusive data nerds. Our employees are as diverse as the work we that do here. I swear, if I have to hear another crack about the Star Trek chairs…" Flynn offers to answer any questions they may have on the threat assessment, and seems oddly reluctant to produce the original author. "What's the problem?" Gibbs asks. "Uh," Flynn sighs, "About those reclusive data freaks I was talking about…"

Flynn escorts them to a brightly lit room where a young woman is kneeling on the floor. Papers and a laptop computer are scattered in a wide arc in front of her. She's wearing very casual clothing (blue jeans with a torn knee) and is bouncing and humming to the music in her earbuds as she works. The agents come to a halt just outside the woman's field of vision.
"So how long does this go on?" Tony asks.
"Yeah, just wait for it," Flynn advises.
As the woman moves a paper to the edge of the arc, she is startled by their presence and gasps loudly.
Flynn chuckles -- he knew this would happen, and the woman grimaces at the apparently outworn joke.

"Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo, I give you NSA Analyst Ellie Bishop. She prefers to do her unclassified research in here."
She shakes their hands. "I thought we discussed rule number one, Flynn. When my earbuds are in, flash the desk light."
"Couldn't help it," Flynn whispers his apology.
"Bishop," she says to Gibbs, "It's good to meet you."
He doesn't say anything.
"Sorry, I was in the middle of… stuff," she waves at the clutter.
Gibbs holds up a copy of Bishop's threat assessment for her to see.
"Yup, that's my work. What's up?"
"You haven't even looked at it," Tony comments.
"I wrote it my third day at the NSA. It was a Wednesday morning. I just finished a box of Cocoa Pebbles."
The agents look at her quizzically.
"I remember that because it was the surprise inside the box that inspired the entire paper."
"Let me guess," Gibbs speaks for the first time, "A pen?"
"An everyday object hiding in plain sight," she agrees. "It clicked."
"So you got 25 pages of national security policy from inside a breakfast cereal?" Tony asks.
"In order to better prepare for attacks, I dream up threats that haven't happened yet."
"This dream became true."
"So I was right," she smiles in delight and glances over at Flynn.
"The Secretary of the Navy was bugged. Security intel is at risk," Gibbs reminds her.
She swallows as she realized how serious the matter has become. "Which is bad," she agrees. "But I submit my reports to my superiors who then distribute them accordingly. Anyone with basic security clearance could have access."
"Did you give this paper to anyone else?"
"No. Are you asking if I'm in on it or something?"
Tony raises his eyebrows inviting her answer.
She laughs nervously. "No, I'm not. I wrote the playbook, but I have no idea who's running it. Sorry. Hope you find your guy. Nice to meet you." She sits back down on the floor and puts her music earbuds back in place.
"Like I said, she's not a field agent," Flynn quietly tells Gibbs.
"Still hear you, Jeff Daniels," Bishop says.
"Jeff Daniels wasn't in Tron, that was Jeff Bridges!" Flynn reminds her.
"Flynn, you are a fan!" Tony chuckles.