End Run
Updated 2009-06-19 08:55:58
Here's something you don't see every day: Michael Westen, relaxing at home. He's parked in his favorite green chair, with his feet up, reading a newspaper and eating, what else, a yogurt. There's a knock on the door and someone calls, "Open up, police!" Rolling his eyes and getting up to stash his handgun in a drawer, he VOs, "Whether you're dealing with the presidential guard in Belarus, the federal security service in Russia, or the local police in Miami, the drill is pretty much the same." Yes, Michael, we know you've been around. "Keep your place clean of damning evidence. Keep your alibis and your whereabouts straight." Michael picks up a manila folder that he's decorated with a big dorky label reading "MICHAEL WESTEN DAILY ACTIVITY LOG," the contents of which I'm sure are reams and reams of lies. "And always be ready for surprise visits," the VO concludes. Because outside Michael's door is not a cop, but his little brother, Nate, looking serious in his black suit and sunglasses. "Nate -- The Brother," the subtitles remind us. As Nate comes in, he says this is how he was awakened this morning, so he's paying the favor forward to Michael. "I was dragged out of bed by someone very interested in you," he says. Michael tries to close the door, but someone else wants in -- someone the subtitles dutifully identify as "Detective Paxson -- Someone Very Interested In Michael." He teases her a bit as he tries to close the door again, but her partner Detective Lopez comes in before he can. After checking to see if anyone else is lurking out there (and also to see whether the landing outside his door has turned into a clown car), Michael finally closes the door and hands Paxson his log. The folder, I mean. I'm sure Michael would like to give her a different kind of log, but he probably doesn't want to do anything actionable. She blows it off, explaining that she was just dropping off Nate, "as a way to say thank you for chatting to us about his big brother." Plus she wants to brace Michael some more. Yes, I said "brace." I'm in the middle of a James Ellroy novel right now, and I defy anyone to read the word "braced" six times per page and not want to pay that forward. Because she's an idiot who likes to keep Michael posted on how she's going to come after him next, she informs Michael that her new method for harassing him will be grilling everyone he knows. She leaves her business card in case he changes his mind, and the two detectives take off, satisfied at having given Michael everything he needs to screw them over this week.
Now that the Westen brothers are alone, Michael starts with the small talk, asking Nate how long he's been in town. Nate tells him six hours, five of which he spent in the clutches of "your girlfriend over there." He assures Michael that he didn't say anything, and asks Michael to drive him to their mom's, where his car is, so he can get to his meeting. "Meeting?" Michael says darkly, as though Nate just said "dogfight." Nate assures him that it's with investors for his limo company. Michael's acting all suspicious for some reason. I suppose that even though you and I might be willing to give Nate credit for turning his life around, Michael has a little more history with him. But still, he should give his little brother the benefit of the doubt at least until he grows that skeezy goatee back. And it's not like your typical downward spiral begins with the words, "Please drive me to Mom's." Still, Michael acts like he's doing Nate a giant favor giving him a ride. While following his brother out to the Charger, he checks out Paxson's business card. What, does he think it's bugged?
Later, after having dropped off the younger sib, Michael's having lunch with Sam and Fi, discussing Paxson's new strategy for getting on his nerves. They're glad Nate held his tongue, but they worry that it's only a matter of time before Paxson finds someone more cooperative. "Like a gunrunner named Seymour," Fi suggests. With his man-crush on Michael? Not likely. "Or a money launderer named Barry," Sam says, more reasonably. "Or a washed-up Navy SEAL named Sam?" Fi snits unprovoked. Sam starts to come back at her, but Michael cuts him off while he's still winding up. "I need to get to know someone she'll regret going after," Michael says. Sam likes the idea, and suggests a shady-looking but perfectly legal fake financial relationship with someone at the mayor's office. Michael loves it. Now the only trick is finding something legal you can do with someone at the mayor's office.
"A lone spy who always works solo is a myth," Michael VOs as a transition to the next scene. "The truth is, you don't last long without keeping a few friends around. Because your enemies will find you on their own." Michael approaches his Charger, which he's parked in some oddly isolated spot next to a Dumpster for some reason. Is he that paranoid about door dings? But before he can even unlock the car, out from behind that Dumpster walks Tyler Brennen , who's got a big old handgun leveled at Michael. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find a burned spy, would you?" he asks pleasantly. "Brennen," Michael spits. Brennen says hi by shooting the hood of the Charger three times, right in front of the air intake. Damn, more bodywork that Michael's going to have to do by the next episode. Well, at least his door didn't get dinged. The subtitles remind us that this is "Brennen -- Arms Dealer With A Grudge." "That's my way of saying thank you for the last time I saw you ," Brennan says, holstering his giant hand-cannon. Michael returns the sentiment without returning fire. "I thought you'd still be running from those angry South Americans," he says. Brennen explains how he distracted those guys by sending a big shipment of weapons to their enemies. "So those angry South Americans are a little busy, what with all the killin' and dyin'." Michael says that sounds like a lot of trouble to go to just to get back to Miami, and Brennen says he's there about a business opportunity. A limo company, in fact. "Nate," Michael realizes darkly. "You're Nate's investor." Aw, poor Nate. Brennen pulls out his cell phone to show Michael a photo of Nate sitting in a house with a big Italian guy, who happens to be Brennen's partner. Although not in the sense Nate thinks. Brennen mocks, "Doesn't Nate look happy? Closin' his little deal? 'Course, he doesn't realize his investor is actually an enforcer from Sicily called the Butcher." Imaginative. Plus, shouldn't it at least be Il Bucciore or something? Michael starts threatening Brennen, who puts it on Michael: "Whether Nate's meeting ends in a bullet or a handshake is entirely up to you. See, you're going to be running some errands for me today. Just think of me as your new boss. "Brennen -- Michael's New Boss," say the subtitles. Et tu, subtitles?
After the titles and the ads, Brennen makes Michael ditch his cell phone, keys, wallet, and sunglasses in the trunk of his Charger. Why that last item? "I want to see those pretty eyes." As they walk to Brennen's car, Michael asks if this is a time-sensitive project. Brennen sees what Michael's doing, and refuses to share what they're up to. "You're just a key, Michael. Keys don't need to know what's behind the doors they unlock." This is not going to work out at all well for Brennen. He should talk to the last person who tried to force Michael to do stuff for her without telling him why, but he can't, 'cause she dead. If Brennen wants to talk about keys, we could all tell him right now that this is going to end in the key of F-U major. Anyway, having reached the Honda SUV that Brennen's driving, he lays down some "rules for the super-spy," which boil down to: Michael pisses off Brennen, Nate dies. But Michael refuses to budge until he knows Nate's still okay. It's a standoff for a moment, into which Michael VOs, "Your first priority when you're captured is to make it clear that your cooperation isn't free. Your captor gets what he wants if you get what you want." I'll be sure and remember that if I'm ever a hostage in a bank robbery. "Yes, I'll lie down on the floor, but first toss me one of those bricks of cash." That will be awesome. Michael's VO continues, "In any healthy relationship, there needs to be some give and take." And what is this, if not a healthy relationship? So Brennen takes out his cell phone again, delivering more dark threats as he dials it.
Nate's in mid-meeting at the kitchen counter of a modern beach house with "The Butcher," still blissfully unaware that anything's wrong, when the Butcher's cell phone rings. Brennen tells him to put Nate on, and Brennen, as Nate's investor "Simon Davis" (who looks, sounds, and dresses exactly like Brennen) talks to him in speaker mode so Michael can hear. "Happy? Now get in the damn car," he orders Michael after hanging up. Well, at least they understand each other.
Sam and Fi are over at Madeline's, and so is Barry the Money Launderer. He's a little impressed at being inside an historic structure like the boyhood home of Michael Westen. Of course, like all such sites, it's been half-blown up and restored since then, but whatever. This is also how we learn that Sam has been staying with Madeline, when Barry tweaks him for it. "I'm just helping out with some home repairs. It's not like that," Sam says defensively. They try to get to the point regarding what they need Barry to do, blowing past his protests that "my life coach has strongly suggested that I try and avoid stressful situations." Sam says all they're asking is for him to open a joint bank account with Michael. "And...a mayor's aide." When he whines some more, they warn him that Paxson is going to be coming around to Barry eventually, with a whole lot of nosy questions, unless they can put her off. So that gets Barry on board. He writes down an address for Fi to go to, and to "Tell Fabian I'm giving you a portable skimmer." Fabian being the intern he recently hired. When she gets up to leave, he snags one of Fi's hands and kisses it, smarming, "Once your pretty little hands swipe that card, my pretty little hands are going to do some financial magic." I really don't see why Fi doesn't use one of those pretty little hands to remove Barry's pretty little scrotum (no, I haven't seen it, but you know an aggressively metrosexual dude like Barry keeps that little man-bag in tip-top shape). Fi heads out, and Sam drafts Barry into helping him with some of those aforementioned repairs, which doesn't really strike me as such a great idea. On her way out of the house, Fi encounters Madeline, who asks, "So who's the guy with the purse?" Fi tells her it's Barry. "He's...Sam's financial consultant," she explains, and leaves Madeline to watch suspiciously as Sam makes Barry hold up a casement window while Sam works on it. Barry seems more interested in using the reflection from the glass to fix his hair spikes. That's not the kind of repair work Sam was talking about, Barry.
Brennen drives Michael up to a big glass square of an office building and tells him, "There's a hardware key in a desk in office 237. In a bout a half an hour, it's gonna be in my pocket." He hands Michael a folded janitor's coverall to get him past security. "Besides the guards, there should be nobody in the building on a Sunday." Let's hope this is a Sunday, then. He adds that the offices are wired to the building's alarms. Michael wants to know how much time he has inside, but Brennen just laughs at him. "Westen, just eat what's on your plate," he says. But before Michael gets out, Brennen adds, "While you're in there, phone a friend, write an e-mail, update your Facebook status. I honestly don't care as long as you remember what really matters here. I don't get what I want and your brother dies. Now run along." With a glance at Brennan's cell phone sitting on the console, Michael does. Brennen might live to regret giving Michael so much leeway.
There must be a phone booth in that parking lot, because Michael's in his coverall by the time he walks in the front door. Yawing innocently, he walks right past the suspicious-looking front desk guards and gets on the elevator. He even tips them a friendly smile when they glare at him. I bet that's a whole class in spy school: Friendly Smiles In The Faces Of People Who Are Glaring At You.
Upstairs, he gets right to work gathering materials, pushing a cleaning cart around and VOing, "Spies are trained to use whatever resources are available. In the hills of Afghanistan, the best you can hope for are rocks and some scrub brush. In an office building, you may have more options." Michael starts ransacking desks and trash cans, scoring, among other things, a bottle of booze and an empty Pringles can disguised as an empty "Sun Crisps" can. He adds, "Technology that makes communication easier also tends to make it more vulnerable. The Bluetooth on a cell phone, for example, is an easy way to send information wirelessly over short distances. Use an antenna, and you can get that same information over longer distances." And he shows us how to MacGyver one up for ourselves if we want, using bent coat hangers, a metal washer, and what he calls a "cylindrical chip can," with its metal foil lining, to pick up the signal. Then you can apparently just stick a USB cable into it and al the data will magically transfer itself into a computer. Talk about plug and play. "Add a few pencils for legs [which Michael does, using a rubber band to bind together a little homemade tripod], and you've got a cute little improvised hacking device." Michael sets the finished product down next to the window overlooking where Brennen is smoking next to his parked car, and it gets its own subtitle: "The 'Cantenna' -- Cute Little Improvised Hacking Device." Cute. The best part is that on 24 , accomplishing the very same thing would require an entire Chloe. Michael holds up a sign to the window: "Ext 0749," it says. Brennen obediently dials and reaches Michael on a desk phone. Michael says if anything goes wrong, he'll break the window out and throw the key down. Of course, this three-second conversation is just a ruse to get Brennen's phone online so the Cantenna can instantly steal his entire life out of it. Brennen just tells Michael to hurry up already. He throws his cell phone back into the car, where, unbeknownst to him, his Bluetooth logo is flashing, and shit's getting uploaded onto that computer that Michael's commandeered upstairs. While that magic is happening, Michael dials the desk phone.
At Madeline's, Barry suddenly and for no reason I can tell drops the window frame that Sam's tapping with a hammer (also for no reason that I can tell), sending it crashing down into the sill. Sam calls out some assurances to Madeline and tells Barry, "You're gonna have to start bringing the second man to this two-man job." Sam reassures (emphasis on "re") Madeline that the window isn't broken. "Very sturdy wood and, uh, glass." Then he answers Michael's call to his cell phone. Michael tells Sam what's going on. Sam foists Madeline off on Barry for a minute and steps away so he can make sure both Westens are okay and ask what he can do to help. Michael says he just e-mailed Sam everything on Brennen's cell phone, and he wants Sam to start digging through it. "I want to know who his buyer is. Where he's got Nate. What brand of orange juice he drinks in the morning." Funny, this show isn't usually big on brands. Just ask Pringles. Before hanging up, Michael adds, "You better hurry, because I get the feeling Brennen's got the Westen brothers fitted for body bags." He hangs up. Body bags are one-size-fits-all, you drama queen.
With his cleaning cart, Michael rolls up to office 237 at last. There's a key pad on the door, and the window has a security sensor attached, so he's not sneaking in. Michael takes a big swallow of the booze he ganked earlier, then crashes a filing rack through the window. Unsurprisingly, an alarm goes off. "Nothing sells innocence like an injury," Michael VOs as he picks up a shard from the window. "People naturally sympathize with someone who's bleeding." He draws the edge of the glass across his left bicep, slashing both his arm and the sleeve of his coverall. "If you're in a situation where you really need the benefit of the doubt, it's worth the flesh wound." But only to the non-dominant arm, as we've also seen on 24 . If I were a spy, being left-handed is the one advantage I'd have, because I could sell this kind of thing even more by being willing to fuck up my right arm. Michael reaches in and opens the door from the inside, bypassing the keypad, and walks right in to snag a key in a case from the desk drawer, where it was resting on a binder marked "Classified." Before he can get much of a look at it, he hears the elevator ding out in the hallway. Yes, the guards are arriving, guns drawn (I originally typed that as "gnus drawn," and wouldn't that have been a welcome little detour into surrealism?). But when they come around the corner, all they find is a swaying janitor with a slurring voice, standing in the hallway over a pile of glass. The guard asks whether Michael entered the office and pats him down, finding the blood on his sleeve. Michael gives his name as "Johnny Dixon," and offers to get a vacuum to clean up, but the guard says they have to call the police any time there's an alarm. Michael desperately begs them not to, making sure to get close enough to give one of the guards a whiff of alcohol on his breath, rather than taking the risk of letting them think they're just dealing with a dumb guy. Michael begs them, "If I miss a child support payment my ex is gonna take the kids to Flagstaff with her boyfriend. So I messed up, and I'm sorry, but I'll make it right if you just let this one slide." The guard does, and Michael gets out of there. Nice of Michael to play on their sympathies, which are going to get them SO FIRED on Monday.
Downstairs, he rolls the janitor's cart out the back of the building and up to Brennen's car, and before getting in, he fishes a Ziploc bag out of the mop bucket, with the key inside. He tosses it on the console, not taking much care to keep Brennen's suit pants dry. In fact, I think I can see a damp spot from a previous take. "What's next?" Michael asks gamely as he climbs in. Brennen chuckles and drives off. Having a pet spy is fun!
"In the adrenalin rush of a high-stress situation, you tend to miss details," Michael VOs after the ads as he and Brennen travel down the road. "But it's the little things that make all the difference." Like the fact that Michael has changed back into his regular clothes, but the dress shirt he's been wearing all day doesn't have a dot of blood on the left sleeve. Brennen doesn't fail to notice that Michael's scanning him pretty hard. "You keep looking at me that way, you're going to have to buy me dinner," he complains. Hey, you're the one who wanted to see his pretty eyes. "Sig 226," Michael observes of the heater in Brennen's shoulder rig. "That's an impressive piece of hardware." "What's that tell you about me?" Brennan asks mockingly. "That I feel the need to appear powerful and intimidating?" Michael has already moved on to Brennen's suit and tie. "Is that Brioni?" he asks admiringly. True, Brennen does know how to rock a wintry palette, even in Miami. "It's already pretty well established that I like nice things," Brennen breezes, again blowing off whatever Michael thinks he might be figuring out. "And pretty things," Michael adds, honing in on Brennen's delicate silver tie pin in the shape of a pair of roses and asking if it was from his wife. "Enough with the digging, you're boring me," Brennen finally says. Michael lets it drop for now, and enjoys the view.
By now, they've pulled up near a suburban house across the street from a canal. Brennen hands Michael a wire and a roll of tape, "explaining," "The guy in that house has a voice. You have a voice recorder. You're going to put the two together." Specifically his full name and the numbers zero through nine. Michael has seen Sneakers , and he guesses, "Someone's making a voice key," as he tapes the device under his shirt. Brennen says the man is Jonathan Carver, "The man with the right clearance at the right company and the only employee who doesn't have a family, a dog, or an ADT account." Michael appreciates the low challenge of the target. "Actually I understand he's a bit of a gun nut, which means he's less likely to call the cops and more likely to just...shoot you," Brennen says. "So good luck with that." Well, I'm glad they didn't make him a knife nut; with a name like Carver, that would have been too on the nose. Glancing across the street at a gray sedan parked by the curb, Michael asks Brennen, "You have a car repair kit?"
Walking across the street with a tire iron in hand, Michael VOs that it's a great tool if you need a new tire. "It's also great if you need a new car. Because a tire iron can be used to break a window." Which Michael does on that gray sedan. "And pry open the steering column to expose the ignition leads." Which Michael also does to the gray sedan once he's inside. "It's the ultimate all-purpose tool." Michael hotwires the car, puts on the seatbelt, and crashes it full-speed into the back of the blue Honda parked on the street in front of Carver's house while Brennen watches, chuckling, and wonders if he can bring Michael home with him.
Cut to Michael standing outside with a doughy nerd and looking over the damage. The subtitles tell us the nerd is "Jonathan Carver -- Man With The Right Clearance." And luckily for Michael, he's also the man with the right car. Would have been embarrassing if Michael had busted up a neighbor's car instead. Oh, excuse me -- I mean another neighbor's car. Michael acts apologetic, saying he was dodging a cat. He claims not to have a wallet or cell phone (which, of course, he actually doesn't, since Brennen made him dump them in the trunk of the Charger). Carver hands over his own cell phone so Michael can "call his insurance company." But Michael also asks for pen and paper, which is how he gets into Carver's house. Sure enough, the first thing he notices is a big glass case of guns. Hey, what a great source of numbers! Michael tries to get Carver to say some out loud by quizzing him about them, but all he gets is "45" and "Ruger." Changing the subject to college GPAs nets him a three and a nine, but Carver wants to get this over with already. Before calling, Michael says he wants to write down Carver's full name and phone number, making him say "three zero five" for the area code and getting on Carver's nerves even more than before. Carver, clearly, has not seen Sneakers. That movie should be required viewing for everyone who has voice code clearance.
At Madeline's house, Sam and Barry are poring over Brennen's cell phone info on a laptop when Michael calls Sam's phone from Carver's land line. He's gotten Carver to give him a room to himself somehow, which means Michael can give Sam an update and ask what they've pulled off of Brennen's phone. Which, since it's less than a week old, isn't much. No text messages or contact list (nobody loves him), but he has called Hampstead Bank and Trust. Even better, he used his phone to enter his PIN, which gave Barry access to Brennen's account. That includes records of a lot of large fund transfers, including to a company called Onyx International. Michael tells him to look for rent or mortgage payments to track down Brennen's Miami safe house, because that might lead them to where Nate is. Suddenly Carver storms in, demanding to know what Michael's trying to pull. Michael puts on his most charming "I'm busted" smile and hangs up.
He does have time for a VO, however, as we're suddenly with Fi at an outdoor seaside restaurant: "One of the great things about stealing information is that nobody knows it's gone. Steal someone's purse and you're probably in for a lot of screaming. But steal someone's credit card number, and half the time they thank you." Fi swans over from the waitress station as a female diner puts her credit card on the table to pay. The subtitles identify this woman simply as "Mayor's Aide -- Michael's New 'Business Associate.'" Fi pretends to be a server, snags the card, secretly runs it through a portable swiper she's got tucked in her hands, and then hands it off to an actual waitress. How about that? Fiona Glenanne just displayed the same super-spy-scammer skills displayed by Winona Ryder at the gas station in Reality Bites .
She's in the parking lot when Sam calls her, telling her to meet him right away, because Michael's in trouble. Unfortunately she's in a pay lot, with cars lined up to leave one at a time. But she tells Sam ten minutes, gets in her Saab, and drives it over the curb onto the street. Her love for Michael clearly outweighs that for her car's suspension.
Michael lets Carver drag him out of the house as he VOs, "Involving civilians in operations is dangerous. But sometimes necessary." As Brennen watches with obvious enjoyment, Carver demands two thousand dollars in cash from Michael at once, to pay for the damage. "When it has to happen, you do what you can to keep the civilian out of harm's way," the VO continues. So Michael acts like he's turning it around on Carver. "That said, you try a little harder with some civilians than others," finishes the VO. By which he presumably means civilians who aren't as much of a douchebag as Carver is. So Michael gets in Carver's face, trying to get him to admit that he parked his car eight inches from the curb instead of the required six. Carver takes a swing at him, and Michael pins him to the hood of the car he just stole and crashed, snags the tire iron from where he left it on the dashboard, and pushes it against Carver's throat until he says what he wants. Sounds like someone was still missing an eight. "Thank you," Michael chirps, and scampers back to where Brennen has been digging the show from his car. He hops in and tells Brennen, "We need to go. Now." Brennen hits the gas, but not fast enough to prevent Carver from running back out of his house with a gun and shooting out Brennen's back window. Let's hope that car is a rental, for Nate's sake.
Next stop: JLA Industries. "You're forcing me to break into a weapons manufacturer?" Michael asks. Brennen obnoxiously agrees, and tells Michael to "go fetch" a gray box from R&D Lab #422. But Michael wants to know what's in the box first. "Anything could be in that box. I'm not handing over a nuke to save one life," he says. "Even if it is my brother's." I'd mention something here about some of the stuff Jack Bauer has agreed to do in order to save one life, but then we'd have to get into who his brother turned out to be, and I think most people have pretty much agreed to forget about all that. Michael insists that he's not going in without knowing what's in the box. Dialing his cell, Brennen begs to differ.
A moment later he has Nate on the phone, pointedly asking him, "Are you one of those people who agrees to see a job through and then reneges? I hate working with people like that...Makes me want to kill someone! Ha ha ha!" Nate assures Brennen he's not like that, and Brennen tells him to put the partner back on. "Stay on the line," Brennen tells the Butcher. "We're deciding whether little brother lives through the phone call." Good thing the Butcher doesn't have his phone on speaker. Brennen turns to Michael, who says, "I love my brother, Brennen. But there's only one thing that gets me into that building." Why is Michael taking this risk with his brother's life? Besides the fact that this isn't the kind of show that would kill off even a recurring character? He VOs, "The problem with blackmail is that it's like a gun with only one bullet. You can't waste that bullet on every little problem. And the closer you get to your goal, the harder it is to pull the trigger." Finally Brennen gives in. He wraps up the call with his partner and tells Michael what he's after. "It's a biometric lock for advanced infantry weapons. People will go on killing each other in little wars all around the globe whether or not you steal it. The only difference is how much money I make while they do it." Satisfied, Michael confirms that if he does this, they're done. "An hour from now I'm just a guy who sends you mean-spirited Christmas cards," Brennen agrees. He tells Michael that the building has a two-man security team he'll have to get through. "Looks like I'm gonna need that tire iron again," Michael says. And that's all it takes to make Brennen love him again.
"If you had to choose an ideal environment for guerrilla war," Michael VOs, "It would probably look a lot like an urban parking structure." For that is where Michael is now. Of course, anyone who watches TV or movies already knows that nothing good ever happens in a parking structure. Well, looks like Michael's out to change that. He pries open the trunk of a parked car, triggering the alarm. "It's an easy place to create a distraction and draw out opposing forces," he continues, as one of the guards at the station sends the other to check it out. Good idea, guys: split up. While Michael's waiting for the guard, he runs over to this thing that looks like a gas pump, but for electricity, with a dinky little electric car parked next to it. Michael uses his trusty tire iron to bust open the plastic case protecting the electrical leads, then uses it again to break an overhead light bulb. Now he has a place to stick the exposed cord, shorting everything out and plunging the entire ramp into darkness. "A parking garage is also a great place to control visibility and give yourself an advantage," his VO adds. "And once you do that, you can find cover and stage an effective ambush." By now the guard has come to investigate the bleating car, and while he's still sloooowly processing the idea of "Open trunk, no one around," Michael jumps out from behind him and stuffs him in the open trunk, telling him not to struggle. Then he jams the tire iron between the trunk lid and the back windshield. Why, because otherwise the guard was going to get himself out of there? After all that tire iron has done for Michael, it doesn't deserve to end up this way. Plus there's still the other guard to deal with. So Michael goes out to the intercom box at the entrance, claiming to be a car owner who works in the building and just wants to get to his vehicle. He claims he saw the other guard go into the electrical room, and the second guard hops to.
Fi and Sam get out of her Saab, right down the hill from a big white beach house. "Nate better be here," Sam says. "Barry's run out of addresses to check." Fi says they'll go in the back door on the second story. They each grab an Uzi from her trunk and head up. Next time, maybe Brennen will want to rent a place where people notice if armed teams approach his house in broad daylight.
Back at the parking ramp, Michael lies in wait for the second guard, and just when the unsuspecting man opens the door to the electrical room, Michael sneaks up behind him to apply the dreaded sleeper. The guard reaches up and jerks futilely on Michael's hand. "Yeah, that move only works before you're in a chokehold," Michael informs him. "Just relax. Go to sleep. Night-night." Michael locks the unconscious guard in the electrical room. Two down.
Fi has disabled the alarm in the beach house, and she and Sam head in. "Someone's been shopping," Sam understates, seeing the crates of munitions piled in the bedrooms. Either that or Brennen loves guns even more than he lets on. Hearing voices downstairs, they head to the kitchen, where they find nothing but more crates and a chattering TV. Fi turns it off. Sam sees Nate's limo company brochures and a beer that's still cold, which tells them they have the right place, even if they're already gone. Just then, while walking back to Brennen's car, Michael calls Sam, on a cell phone he must have lifted from one of the guards. Sam has to admit that he and Fi are at the right place at the wrong time. He promises that they'll find Nate. But as Michael comes around the corner, he sees that another car is pulling up in front of Brennan's parked SUV, and who should climb out but Nate. Seeing him and Brennen embrace like the new BFFs Brennen's still pretending they are, Michael says, "Don't bother Sam. I just did." Man, you want something done right...
Back from the ads, Brennen is just releasing Nate from that hug as he talks about the impersonality of phone meetings. Nate agrees, saying they have to get to know each other. "Like brothers? Is that that you were thinking?" Brennen asks, laughing, just as Nate spots Michael walking up to them. "What's he doing here?" Nate asks, getting serious in a hurry. "I bet Michael's thinking the same thing about you," Brennen chuckles. Nate doesn't get it, so Brennen explains, "Nate, you're here to discourage stupid decisions and to show that I don't make idle threats." And with that, Brennen pulls out his gun and shoots Nate in the arm. Nate screams and collapses against the front bumper of the car he just came in. Plus his suit is ruined. The Butcher draws on Michael, just in case, but Michael just tells Nate to stay where he is. Maybe tell him to elevate that arm, Sparky. Brennen tells Michael he used a frangible round. "Lot of soft tissue damage, but it doesn't usually kill." Michael says Brennen didn't need to do that, but Brennen disagrees. "It's called a countermove. You just had to know what was in the box, so I just had to show you who was in charge." He sends Michael back into the building, this time with a map, instructions, the hardware key Michael stole earlier, and the voice key he edited together "while you were playing with the guards." Michael wants Nate brought to a hospital in case he's got a nicked artery, but Brennen says that'll have to wait. "Oh, and Westen, don't dawdle. Otherwise I'm switching to lead." Michael obediently breaks into a jog. Which I'm sure Nate appreciates.
Making his way through the building with the map Brennen gave him, Michael uses the hardware key to turn a red light green. That's one secure door he's through. Then he plays the recording Brennen gave him, which is all cut together like a sound bite on a reality show. "Jonathan Carver 71348," it says. Except the "eight" doesn't really sound like it wasn't screamed by a man with a tire iron against his throat. Still, Michael finds himself inside a laboratory. He calls Sam on his stolen cell phone while Sam is still at Brennen's house with Fi. Michael tells him what happened with Nate, and says he's about ready to admit defeat. "You give Brennen what he wants, chances are he'll kill you both," Sam warns. Michael asks if there's anything else on the phone records he can work with. Sam flounders, because all he's got is the Onyx International thing he mentioned earlier. "It's more like a Russian nesting doll than a company," Sam says as Michael digs out the box Brennen sent him in for. Sam says he traced it to something called Belle Anna Holding in Zurich, which apparently exists for the sole purpose of transferring forty thousand dollars twice a year. Michael is stumped, until he looks at a family photo on the desk he's leaning against. And that -- and the memory of the tie clip -- tips it for him. "Does Fi have any C-4?" he asks Sam, and even Sam can't help implying that's kind of a stupid question. "Can you walk Barry through intercepting a call in ten minutes?" is Michael's follow-up. That one's a little trickier, but Sam agrees. "Sounds like you got something good, Mike." Yes, and it's another one of those plans that Michael and Sam communicate to each other telepathically.
Outside, Brennen is looking impatient. Nate is looking bloody. And Michael is returning empty-handed.
From Madeline's dining room table, Barry is protesting to Sam over the phone, "I'm just saying, I'm not that great with British dialects!" Sam calms him down, then hangs up and goes to Brennen's door, where Fi is wiring up some explosives. As always, she asks how big. "Big enough to make a point, but not kill the neighbors," Sam says. I think the problem is that he and Sam keep giving Fi these broad ranges that don't communicate anything at all. They need to settle on some kind of explosive scale so they can just say things like, "Give me fifteen boom-units." It would save everyone a lot of time. Disappointed, Fi says they're done and bites off a length of electrical tape.
Brennen is not happy to see Michael again, not carrying what he asked for. Michael tells him, "I had the box in my hand. Then I decided, you never will. Ever." In other words, please shoot my brother.
Back out on the street next to her car with Sam, Fi uses a remote detonator to blow Brennen's house sky-high. I'm no demolitions expert, but that's a lot more than fifteen boom-units. "Jesus, Fi, I told you not to kill the neighbors!" Sam yells at her. He takes a picture of the conflagration with his cell phone, and they scramble into Fi's Saab. If any of the neighbors are still alive, let's hope they're very unobservant.
Back at the building, Brennen pulls his gun and puts it to Nate's head, ordering, "Get it now!" But then his phone beeps, and Michael brings it to Brennen's attention. "It can wait," Brennen says. "No, it can't," Michael says coldly. So Brennen pulls out his cell phone and looks at the picture he just got of his blown-up house. "You found my place in Miami and blew it up?" Brennen asks, not nearly as impressed as one might hope. Michael says that's just the beginning. He claims to have become an expert on " Tyler Brennen" since their last meeting, "From where you get your teeth cleaned to where you do your banking -- did your banking. I drained the account." Brennen calls that a desperate bluff, so Michael tells him to call and check his balance, name-dropping Hampstead Bank and Trust as he does so. Brennen dials, and instead of a Hampstead operator he gets Barry, doing a quite passable British dialect. Brennen reads off his account number and PIN, right in front of Michael, which is not the smartest move he ever made. "Are you calling about this morning's transfer?" Barry Brits. "At 11 AM local time, 261,000 pounds was transferred out of this account. Your current balance is four pounds. If you'd like--" Brennen hangs up, probably much to Barry's relief. Brennen doesn't want to believe that Michael's good enough to have pulled this off, but Michael says that he is that good. "I am so good that I can put it all back, right now, if you let us go." Brennen says he doesn't care. "It's just stuff. Burn it all down. I can start over. But you and your brother are finished. " The gun's back at Nate's head, so Michael plays his last card. "What about Belle Anna?" he asks. "I mean, Annabelle?" That gets Brennen's attention. "Your daughter. The one who gave you that nifty tie pin. The one you're sending to private school in Switzerland for $40,000 a semester." Whoa, that last card turned out to be an ace. Or possibly an entire royal flush. Really upset now, Brennen holsters his gun and storms off to call his daughter. I'm glad to say that he gets the real thing on the line, and not Fi pretending to be a ten-year-old. More than she usually does, I mean. Brennen apologizes for waking her up and says he'll call tomorrow. "This isn't you, Westen," he says after hanging up. "You're capable of a lot but you wouldn't hurt a child." Michael says they're playing by Brennen's rules. Running out of counterarguments, Brennen asks why Michael played along this whole time if he has this all set up. "Took some time to get an assassin into place halfway around the world," Michael claims. So much time he hasn't even started yet. Brennen still thinks -- hopes -- that Michael is lying. "You want to find out? Shoot me," Michael invites. And that's it. Brennen loses again, and again he takes his leave with dire threats of what he'll do to Michael if his daughter "so much as skins her knee on the playground." "Of course you will, Brennen," Michael says pointedly. "She's your family." Brennen and the Butcher get into their respective cars as Michael helps Nate to his feet. "You'll hear from me again, Michael," Brennen threatens. "Yeah, you owe me a Christmas card," Michael says. Well, at least he got paid his usual fee for this job. Michael helps Nate over to a nearby railing and stands with him. What about getting him to a hospital? Oh, maybe Michael just realized that it might be a little tricky to explain how his little brother got shot right outside a building where two security guards were just assaulted. Instead of calling an ambulance, maybe they should walk a few blocks and then get a cab.
Back at Madeline's house, Michael comes in to see Nate parked on Madeline's sofa, his whole arm wrapped in bandages. Michael refrains from showing Nate the little scratch on his own arm. Nate says it's a little sore, and tells Michael that he told their mom he was mugged. Michael asks if he plans to stay in town, but Nate's not sure. He's pretty disappointed about his deal falling through. "Nate, I know it's hard sometimes being my brother," Michael says. Nate says he's getting used to it. As though he was ever not Michael's brother.
Madeline comes in, and Michael alludes to Nate's mugging, lying badly enough to once again demonstrate how useless his super-spy skills are against his mom. "Yes," Madeline agrees, settling into a chair, marveling at the coincidence: "Sam, Fi, and Barry were all mysteriously busy at the exact same time that Nate was being beaten up by his mugger." Michael flounders, but she tells him not to lie to her face. She's just glad her sons are home, and also that she met Barry. "He's coming over later with some new eucalyptus-infused hair gel. We're going to have a product party!" Michael doesn't look as excited as you might think to hear that his mom is becoming friends with a money launderer. Just imagine the cleaning tips they could exchange!
When Michael returns to the loft, he finds Fi sitting there eating one of his yogurts, and he tells her how bad he feels about Nate. "I'm starting to think I screw up his life better than he does," he says self-pityingly. Fi reminds him, "He wouldn't be breathing if it weren't for you." Actually, he'd not only be breathing, he wouldn't have had to get bullet fragments dug out of his arm, either. Michael thanks her for her help with Nate. "Hey, he's family," Fi says modestly.
Then there's a knock at the door. Since it's the end of the episode, who else would it be but Detective Paxson? And she's loaded for bear because her partner, Detective Lopez, went and got himself suspended. "He grilled a mayor's aide for three hours about some mysterious bank account she opened with a Michael Westen. Turns out to be a bank error, but not before the mayor got upset enough to have his badge yanked." Michael and Fi act mock-sympathetic, but Paxson isn't playing. She's got a message for Michael: "You want to play rough? I can give as good as I get." And then she storms out, grabbing Michael's "activity log" and flinging it in the air. Wait -- did she just leave without telling Michael what she's gong to do next so he has time to come up with a plan to counteract it? That hardly seems fair. As the pages flutter to the floor around them, Michael and Fi look at each other like, Oooooh. But not nearly mockingly enough.
M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer , follow him on Twitter , or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.
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