The sun is setting as Horatio and a SWAT team break into a darkened room where Cassidy is lying, all clad all in black. Even the hospital duds in Miami are styl-- oh. This isn't a hospital, is it? Cassidy's just lying there dizzy from blood loss. Well, he's not about to get a transfusion, just the hellish vision of Horatio glowering at him as he slips off this mortal coil. Frank asks where Cassidy's partners are, and Cassidy just kind of bleeds in response. Horatio leans in to ask, "Do you think your friends are coming back for you? I think they left you here to die." And since Horatio and Frank are helping that result along by not bringing in medical personnel, that's probably what's going to happen. Some might be disturbed by this lack of prompt medical assistance on the part of the authorities, but this is John Ashcroft's America now. Horatio presses for answers, but Cassidy's too busy dying to bother answering questions. Frank says, "This guy's going fast." Rather than call in medical personnel, Horatio merely says, "No, you don't. No, no, you don't," then squeezes his hand around the mortal wound in a move clearly designed to get Cassidy's attention via extreme pain. And this asshole wonders why IAB's out to get him? "I want a name from you!" Horatio demands. He goes on to ask, "Is this guy worth dying for? Why don't you give Me something to get him with?" Cassidy, why don't you give him a deathbed curse? That would be more appropriate to the situation. Cassidy breathes out "Nedir Kire" and breathes his last. Horatio ponders this.