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Jake 2.0 Ep 1.5 - With All That Booze, Where Was Sarah?
Tuesday, October 14 @ 17:39:21 EDT
By Deeablo
"The Good, the Bad, and the Geeky"
Previously on Jake 2.0: There were previouslies. And a blonde chick named Sarah. However, we won't see either of those things this week. Hooray! Jake, in a suit, is standing next to a flashy red convertible. Wait, is that Misguided Misdirection I smell? Jake is talking on his cell phone with Diane, trying to get a better signal. The first of many pop culture references in this episode rears its head as Jake asks, "Can you hear me now? Good." In an attempt to placate Verizon Wireless, Jake blames not his carrier but his "cheap, crappy phone." He tells Diane to tell Beckett that he will get to the office as soon as he can get his car towed. As he hangs up, a "sexy" woman walks toward him. She is high-maintenance all the way, and tells Jake that she likes his car. Jake agrees that the 355 Spider is a gem. Really, do you think anyone who owns a car that costs at least $130,000 would park it at the curb? Ms. Gold Digger can't see past the diamonds in her eyes and continues to work her voodoo on our hapless hero. That is, until the tow truck operator salts Jake's game by revealing that heís not there to tow the Ferrari but the steaming pile parked behind it. Jake talks with the tow guy, tries to play it cool, and turns back to find the brunette gone. Too bad, so sad. And Jake's auto membership has expired as well. "Man..." Jake moans.
Look, I appreciate the fact that Jake isn't some supersmooth mega-spy. It's what makes him likable. However, I don't appreciate the ways in which TPTB choose to highlight this. Did anyone really think that the Ferrari was Jake's? And if it was, that it wasn't part of a mission? Sigh. Your viewers are smarter than that, Greenwalt et al.
The tagline (spelled correctly this week) informs us we're at the Federal Reserve Bank. We've switched to the Courier font, people. It reminds me of the title card for Party of Five, which reminds me of Jennifer Love Hewitt, which reminds me I need to pour myself another drink. Close up of some computer screens, with an abacus in the foreground. Why? Why not? A bored man fingers the balls—ahem—and is startled when alarms begin blaring. Hey, the abacus is legal! Oh, wait. Another man runs into the room and wants to know what's going on. This pencil pusher looks nothing like Marvin Gaye. Someone is hacking into the system, Abacus Finch replies. They're being robbed. NotMarvin stutters that it's a "restricted system." He tells Abacus to stop it. Abacus, perhaps still thinking of those balls clacking together, says he can't. One million. A million and a half. Two million. The transfer is complete. Stunned, the two men look at the screens as an animated figure suddenly appears. For a moment, I think it's StrongBad. I would love to see Trogdor burninating the government's money. Alas, it's some imitator clad in turquoise and blue. NotStrongBad is holding two bags, one in each hand, with $s on them. The figure dances and sticks out his tongue as a pile of moneybags fills the screen. A woman's voice reads the text as it appears on each of the three screens. "The United States Federal Reserve: $300 million. A Big Marble Building to Keep Track Of It: $10 Million. Stealing $2 Million From the Man: Priceless." No misspellings, but there are some capitalization problems (theirs, not mine; I transcribed it exactly). MasterCard thanks Jake 2.0 for its free product placement as Abacus and NotMarvin look at the screens, and each other, with horror.
Credits. "Then one day it all changed." I'll say, Jake. First no previouslies and now they removed the "I've been upgraded" voiceover from the credits. Maybe because they realized it was a stupid line? Next thing you'll tell me is that this episode contains all-new, never-before-seen footage.
I've decided to cut out all references to Washington, D.C. monuments and the NSA seals. Recycled footage can only hurt me if I let it. I won't play that game. Try not to cry. [But... how will we know when to drink?—Illyria] Also, a taping mishap caused the next nine or so minutes to be erased accidentally, so I'm going on memory and my notes. I know. I can't believe I took notes either. And by "taping mishap," I mean "using the wrong videotape to record the Saturday Night Live season premiere with Justin Timberlake." See what happens when I try to help out my friends? Also? SHUT UP!
So. NSA headquarters. Jake walks the hallways with Diane, moaning about how "Steve Austin, Napoleon Solo, [and] James Bond" never had to worry about their rides. Diane makes a joke about rebuilding Steve Austin. Jake, still miffed, bitches about being the world's only ride-sharing superspy. Diane disagrees, saying it's an idea whose time has come. Jake exposits that his paperwork hasn't been processed since he's been infected with tiny, tiny robots. He's making less now that when he was in I.T. I am shocked that the government isn't a smoothly oiled, efficient machine. Jake mentions paid overtime, which is the segue for Kyle to appear and spout a platitude about Uncle Sam's enemies not punching a time clock. Do you think Jake's poor-as-a-church-mouse status will be important later? I wonder.
Federal Reserve. Kyle and NotMarvin talk shop as Jake, ever the eager rookie, tries to interrupt. NotMarvin snarks about how this bank isn't the Bedford Falls Savings & Loan. Kyle reassures NotMarvin that they'll solve the case. Jake finally gets their attention and identifies NotStrongBad as a "fifth-level mage" from Ironhawk Night Quest, an online role-playing game. To find the culprit, someone will have to get on the Internet and find them. Gee, whoever will it be.
The small war room that is Hello, Joshua Junior. Jake is online playing Ironhawk Night Quest as Beckett, Diane, and Kyle try to track their target. Jake has been at the game for more than eighteen hours without rest, breaks, or food. He does have some sort of drink, though, with the nice touch of an extra-long straw so that Jake will never have to pick up the cup to take a sip. "He cut off my leg!" Jake exclaims, but that doesn't slow him down. Kyle, hovering too close to Jake, is told to go away. Hee! Someone, perhaps Agent WhoTheHell, announces that they've got a location. Jake drops the game console and stretches his clawed hands.
Outside an apartment building, which may or may not be the same exterior used for last week's Harbour Bay art galleries. Too bad the footage has been Justified. At any rate, inside an apartment, we see a man at a desk. There are several monitors, one of which is attached to a computer and another which shows surveillance of Kyle, Jake, and a team of soldiers arriving at the front door. The man removes his sunglasses and waits for the team to arrive. He's also wearing an ubertrendy manwhore wristcuff. Kyle "Freezes!" him, and DuMont, for that is their man, haughts that Kyle's Weaver stance is wrong; the team's approach formation, sloppy. What's this? An arrogant geek who thinks he knows it all? DuMont has already started erasing his hard drive, but Jake is on the job. He, and the soundtrack, zihzihzihzihzuh-zoom into the computerís circuitry to stop the process. DuMont wonders how Jake did that thing he does, but Kyle and Jake ignore him. A password box pops up on the screen. Kyle asks Jake if he can't just "do his thing," but Jake says no. The tiny, tiny robots can't override it. They'll have to get the password from DuMont. The NSA, not the nanites.
NSA. Apparently, DuMont is more dangerous than Hannibal Lecter, because even Hannibal the Cannibal got a cell with furniture. DuMont, clad in white, is in a five-by-fifteen room with glass doors on one side. There are two guards nearby. Jake sits on the floor on the other side of the glass doors, reading a newspaper. DuMont thinks Jake is nothing but a government drone blah blah blah. Boy, my memory is as sharp as a tack, y'all. Jake notices that DuMont has named his cell phone, MP3 player, and other electronic devices after kings in fantasy novels (er, except isn't Gondor a place, not a person?). DuMont tells Jake to stop embarrassing himself. However, it was the hard drive, Gormenghast, that gave Jake his first clue. Jake says he considered "Titus Groan" or "Lord Sepulchrave" but finally chose "Death Owl." Apparently, in the Gormenghast books, Lord Sepulchrave goes nutty after the loss of his library and imagines himself as one of the death owls that nest in the castle's tower. There's something about his eyes growing wide and reflective or some such (like sunglasses maybe?). Later, this crazy Earl locks himself in this tower with the dead body of a cook, and both men are eaten by the owls. Oh, the poetic justice? Who knows, I got all of this information off the Internet. Point is, Jake has cracked DuMont's faÁade: Agent WhoTheHell, armed with DuMontís laptop, punches in the password and the NSA is in. DuMont takes this opportunity to insult Jake some more, saying that he (DuMont) has been on seven continents, eaten every food known, and had the "hottest sex" known to man. Jake falters at the "hot sex" part as DuMont promises to get revenge. Or something like that. Ahem.
Back in Beckett's office, we get some backstory on DuMont. I wrote down that he got a Ph.D. at 15, worked for software giant Banatech until he left or was fired, and has a "hard-on for Banatech." That sounds like enough information. Also, there are four other people involved: screen names Bit, Clu, Yori, and MacP. Because the hackers are paranoid, none of them have ever exchanged photographs or met in real life. They've scheduled a celebratory shindig in Berlin in a few days. Beckett and Kyle consider which agent would be best for the mission. Jake is dumbfounded. He thinks if ever a case screams "Jake Foley," it's this one. The hackers are "nerds gone wild. [pause] These are my people." Bwa! Christopher Gorham's delivery of this last line is perfect. His supervisors aren't sure Jake is ready for such an intense undercover job, but the show is called Jake 2.0, not Beckett 2.0 or Kyle 2.0, so guess who's taking a trip to Germany?
Kyle briefs Jake (no, not in the underwear way) about the mission. He hands Jake a wad (again, not that kind) of money, calling it Euro dollars. "Euro dollars"? What the? They're just called euros, and Kyle (as well as the viewing audience) should know that. Gads! Anyway, Jake proclaims them "cool." Heh. Kyle hands Jake a spy phone that has real-time video streaming. Kyle goes over the plans: Jake is there to gather information only. If things start getting too dicey, Jake is to get out. Where is the primary safehouse? "Number 98 Alexanderplatz," Jake shoots back. The address of the secondary safehouse is 221B Backer Strasse, which is familiar to both Sherlock Holmes and Gerry Rafferty. [Props to taraljc, by the by, who told me that "Backer" is indeed "Baker" in German.] Kyle tells Jake he needs to learn as much as he can about DuMont to become him. Or something like that. I'm guessing, all right? No worries; we're now back to footage of the actual show and not the one running in my brain. Thanks for being patient, y'all!
DuMont's apartment. "Shakin'" by the Dandy Warhols blares in the background. Jake surveys his new domain. He picks a tight, striped, lime green tee-shirt from the closet. In a nice cut, Jake holds up the shirt in front of the camera. The next shot is Jake wearing the shirt and walking away. In a blatant play to those who are on the Christopher Gorham Love Train, Jake lies down on the black sheeted bed in that tight, tight tee-shirt. No, I'm not complaining. All too soon, he gets up and checks out DuMont's toys. No, not those kind. DuMont has a lot of flashy watches and a selection of over-the-top sunglasses. Jake tries each pair on, looking in the mirror and cheesing, "DuMont." Sadly, none of the sunglasses look good on him. Cut to Jake pretending to drive one of DuMont's motorcycles, complete with engine noises. Jake talks a good game until he tips himself and the bike over. Ha!
Private plane. Berlin at night. Jake exits a building in slow motion, wearing sunglasses at night (cue Corey Hart), a black knee-length jacket, a vinyl-looking shirt, and the standard shiny silver briefcase. Oh yeah. He's cool. He approaches a Mercedes and suaves, "My car." Er, no. A tall man standing next to the door opens it, and a short man wearing glasses gets out of the back. The short one speaks in German, while the tall man translates, "German Intelligence. You're under arrest." Jake takes off his sunglasses and looks worried. We're not worried, however, because we've watched television before.
German Intelligence. Jake swears his name is Kevin Flynn. The men don't buy it, saying that Jake is DuMont and part of a group rerouting transfers and procuring millions. The tall one—who looks a little like a poor man's Conan O'Brien—ominouses, "Every nation in the European Union has a jail cell ready for you." More intimidation, until Jake notices Shorty's watch. It resembles those wristwatches back at DuMont's pad. Jake, finally beginning to catch on, zihzihzihzihzuh-listens, and deduces that the building is empty. He relates this news to hid interrogators and wonders if German intel is on a holiday or something. Conan points a gun at him. Jake stutters that he thought only James Bond still used a Walther PPK. Conan responds with, "You think you're smart. Think you can outsmart the bullet?" Jake recognizes that line from RoboCop (as does eep) and wonders if they learned everything from the movies. This is too much for Conan and Shorty, and they crack up. They are "so busted." Jake heaves a sigh of relief as they tell him he's aced the loyalty test. Please. The real DuMont would have eaten these fools for breakfast. Conan and Shorty want to know which one fooled Jake more. "Clearly, you're both evil geniuses," Jake says dryly, inspiring another round of laughter from the two. Shorty introduces himself as Bit (henceforth known as Little Bit) and Conan is Clu (I'm still calling him Conan). MacP has passed along 50,000 euros with the order to "spend it all by dawn."
Silence of the Dweebs. Kyle sits on a chair outside of DuMont's cell trying to intimidate him with the age old technique of eyefucking. DuMont offers a pithy remark or two. Kyle says DuMont is a bright guy; surely he knows that the only way out is to cut a deal. DuMont isn't buying it, and stop calling him Shirley. DuMont thinks Kyle is offering to deal because Kyle is worried. DuMont then realizes the NSA sent "little Jake" in his place. Kyle says nothing. DuMont chides Kyle for his bad poker face, although Kyle hasn't changed expressions. DuMont lectures, "Qui tacet consentire videtur." Hey, a little help for those of us who went to state schools. "He who is silent is understood to agree," DuMont translates. Smug little bastard. Kyle tells him people like DuMont are reasons he "love[s] the Patriot Act." Boo! Hissssss! And here I was liking you, Kyle. Why you gotta be like that? DuMont tells Kyle that even if Jake fools the others, there is too much temptation for "the little bagbiter to resist." It was too much for him, DuMont ponders. Kyle schoolyards, "Yeah, right," before adding, "Besame el culo," which—according to Babelfish—translates as "The ass kisses me." What the? Ohhhh.
Jake, Little Bit, and Conan pull up to a nightclub. Little Bit says it used to be the headquarters for the East Berlin Communist Youth. Jake dorks into the line at the front door, and immediately tries to pick up some German chickadees. However, Little Bit and Conan have already greased the palm of the bouncer at the back. "We don't do lines," they tell him. Inside. Lights. Dancing. Loud techno music. Blurry camera work. Itís like we're there! MacP, a guy with shaggy hair and chin pubes, gets up to greet Jake. MacP is also short. Carly Pope—Christopher Gorham's former co-star on Popular—slinks up, all sexy in all black. "Finally, in the flesh. DuMont," she says. "Yori," Jake drools. "You're not what I expected," she adds. "What'd you expect?" Jake counters. "Less," she banters. In twenty seconds Yori and Jake have far more chemistry than Jake and Sarah do. Yori is so dead.
Cut to the drinking montage. The Fab Five sit at a table and prepare to do more shots. Yori and Jake share a private moment (a tequila shot clink—they both have limes at the ready in their other hands) as the other three shout "Another round!" and "Put on some liederhosen!" and "Bring your sister!" to the poor waitress. Shots complete, Yori declares temping "the worst." Dranzacom fired her because they thought she was stealing Post-Its and because she wouldn't sleep with "the homunculus office manager." She smiles at Jake. He smiles back as he uses the phone Kyle gave him to send back pictures to Hello, Joshua Junior. Conan recounts the days in which he couldnít afford a new futon. Little Bit shares his horror story: "Try sleeping on a flea-infested couch, eating Ramen noodles and canned tuna, while your less talented, more politically savvy friends are peddling IPOs." Jake gets into the spirit and bitches about his bosses in his first I.T. job second-guessing him all the time, and then they took away his overtime by "promoting" him. He drives a rusty heap and lives above a 24-hour deli. Yori doesn't see DuMont as the I.T. type. Jake covers by proposing a toast. "Here's to not spending 80 hours a week putting away code in a cubicle, never wearing a tie, never being poor." They drink.
Cut to Conan being shoved against a wall by some German woman. He "Woo!"s and "Oh yeah!"s with great abandon. Little Bit dances with a pretty woman who is at least a head taller than he is; MacP does the same. Yori dances on her own as Jake boogies with a generic blonde (how predictable). Yori watches Jake without being to obvious. Jake, confident of his madd skillz, spins on the dance floor and loses his phone in the process. Conan picks it up. "This yours? Vid phone. Real-time data stream." Jake looks terrified. "COOL!" Conan shouts, and turns the phone to film himself and Jake. Jake's expression changes from deer-in-the-headlights to mosh-pit-junkie in less than three seconds. He jumps as if he's Kriss Kross.
Hello, Joshua Junior. Beckett and Diane watch Jake shake his groove thing on the big screen. Kyle approaches as Beckett wonders what the hell Jake is doing. Diane thinks it's "The Slip," a dance that's more of a grind. "It's very popular in the Mitte district." Beckett gives Diane one of her looks. Jake didn't bother to label the photos of the hackers or check in three hours previously as he was supposed to do. Agent WhoTheHell (when will she get a name?) begins trying to match the photo I.D.s of Little Bit, Conan, Yori, and MacP. Beckett asks Kyle how much lead time German intelligence needs to mount a raid. Thirty minutes, Kyle replies. Beckett says they can either wait for Jake to figure out what the group is up to or they can nail the hackers for the Federal Reserve robbery. On screen, MacP shoves a bottle of liquor in Jake's mouth. Jake takes a few swallows and continues bouncing around. "Alert the Germans," Beckett orders dryly. HA!
Former Headquarters for the East Berlin Communist Youth. Dancing. Jake gets his swerve on with Generic Blonde. Yori watches. Conan returns Jake's phone. Yori approaches the blonde, whispers in her ear, and watches her leave. Jake and Yori move together on the dance floor, close but not touching. Again, this little moment has more heat than the dance of Kyle and Bad Wig as well as Jake and Theresa's slow dance. Jake smiles goofily, and Yori "What?"s him. "You're beautiful," Jake shouts over the music, still grinning like a loon. MacP pulls him away with the announcement, "He's here." "He" is a mulleted man in a sleeveless black shirt. MacP asks if Jake wants to do this or should he do it. Jake's superspy response is, "Uh, well, you know, whatever." MacP gives Jake 30,000 euros to give to the guy. Cut to MulletMan grabbing a pint of watery Canadian, . . .er, German lager. Seriously, that shit looks like the U.S. version of LaBatt's. Jake sits down next to MulletMan at the bar and slides him the money. MulletMan says, "He took off from Heathrow six minutes ago," as he leaves the bar. Jake repeats this message to MacP, who hoots, "We're going to save the world, bro." "Yeah, that we are," Jake replies, completely clueless and in over his head. MacP tells the other hackers that it's on. Jake interrupts the celebration by announcing he has to drain the little fireman. Okay, he doesn't say that, but that's what he means.
Cleanest dance club bathroom in the world. Two men are actually washing their hands in one of those fountain sinks that are prevalent in Europe. Man, I forgot all about those! Jake goes into a stall and fires up his cell.
Hello, Joshua Junior. Kyle asks why Jake hasn't called. Jake is barely coherent, what with the drinking and the sexy girl and the confusing mission and all. "They left Heathrow airport six minutes ago," he blathers. He checks his watch and amends that to eight minutes. Kyle wonders what the hell is happening, and Jake tells him. "It's a plane? I think thereís something big going on." Kyle informs Jake that German intelligence will be storming the club in ten minutes. Jake no-nos, the plan is already in motion. Yori bangs open the stall door. Jake, startled, drops the cell phone into the toilet. "Who are you?" Yori demands. She says she doesn't want to play games. "We've been doing it online for six months, okay? I don't need you to tell me I'm beautiful. Save the compliments for someone who needs it." She starts to storm off but Jake grabs her. "We're not online any more," he implores. Yori shoves him against the side of the stall, saying he's breaking all the rules: no real names, no eye contact. They start smooching but are interrupted by the chin pubes of MacP, who reminds them there's work to be done. Slow motion of the Fab Five leaving the club through a back door. MacP takes them into an elevator and refuses to tell them where they're going. No hints. Jake is increasingly nervous as the elevator goes down.
Back at Hello, Joshua Junior, Jake's monitors show that his numbers have disappeared. "Does that mean he's dead?" Kyle asks. Diane doesn't know; all that she knows is that Jake is "gone." Dun dun dun!
German intelligence raided the club, but there was no sign of Jake or the others. Diane suggests that Jake is out of satellite range, maybe underground. Beckett orders Kyle to contact Berlin for a "subterranean grid of all sewers and tunnels" and demands that Agent WhoTheHell get manifests of all flights coming into Berlin, with a priority match of anything that left Heathrow in the last half hour.
Underground. MacP opens the elevator door with a flourish. Little Bit compares it to the Bat Cave, but Conan prefers to think of it as Hitler and Eva Braun's love bunker. MacP exposits they're "inside a concealed, lead-lined nuclear fallout shelter that hasn't seen the light of day since the Berlin Wall came down." Um, should fallout shelters ever see the light of day? Just wondering. Conan wants to get back to the club and drinking, and Yori says there are "one hundred asbestos-free, nicely ventilated places we could do this." MacP counts off—in a geeky fashion—the pluses: no satellite surveillance, thermal imaging, or sonar and radio interference. He opens the door to a room that houses tons and tons of "super computing magnificence." Jake amazes, "A multi-teraflop machine. What is that, like, 60 billion computations per second?" Little Bit declares, "I am in love!" Heh. The target is Banatech, DuMont's old stomping grounds. Little Bit has hated that company since it started charging for upgrades. Yori temped there for a few weeks and tried to download a beta version of their new browser, but she couldn't get past "the firewall of death." MacP agrees that the firewall is impenetrable. But Banatech's private jet is not. The top management of Banatech took off from Heathrow ten minutes ago. As soon as the plane enters German airspace, the Fab Five are going to crack its flyby wire, forcing the plane to circle and circle as its fuel gauge ticks steadily down. Little Bit exposits that this will force the executives to wire all of their money to the Fab Five's Cayman accounts. Conan exudes that it will be billions and that he's going to faint. MacP tells Yori, Little Bit, and Conan to "start your software" as he takes Jake to another room for "a word."
Hello, Joshua Junior. Beckett wants her manifest. Kyle reports that there are miles and miles of Cold War bunkers and tunnels. Beckett orders him to start looking. Agent WhoTheHell hands Beckett the manifests, and Beckett starts paging through them.
Side room. A close-up of a bottle of Cuervo 1600 and two shot glasses. I bow my head in memory of Czuchry. MacP exudes that the other three bought it "like a bag of chips," and he pours two shots of tequila. Jake asks if MacP has everything else locked down, including the Cayman accounts. MacP counters that DuMont said the accounts weren't needed, and after everything is done, it will be pretty obvious that they didn't do it for the money. In DuMont's words, "All we don't have is infamy." MacP raises his glass and asks Jake to toast. "To crashing a plane," Jake bluffs. MacP agrees and slams his shot. Before Jake can drink his, however, Conan tells them that theyíre in the system. MacP and Jake follow him out as the camera focuses on the tequila left behind on the table. What a waste.
Hello, Joshua Junior. A guard approaches Kyle and tells him DuMont knows the plans of the hackers but will only tell Kyle. Can you hear the nerds screaming, Clarice? DuMont says his information is for Kyle's ears only, and Kyle enters the cell. DuMont reaches for Kyle. Kyle traps DuMont's arm, wrenches it, and pushes him to the floor. Kyle leaves the cell and the guards close the door behind him. However, DuMont has snagged Kyle's cell phone and programmed a text message into it. Kyle orders the guard to open the door as DuMont shrieks, "Say the magic word!" DuMont pushes the send button just as the doors open, and Kyle bitchslaps him to the ground. Kyle retrieves his phone and tells the guards that DuMont "slipped."
Underground Bat Cave love Bunker. Everyone but MacP is at a keyboard. Yori says she has the flight beacon and Jake can crack the wire at any time. Jake tells her to give him a second, and he starts zihzihzihzihzuh-ing.
At Hello, Joshua, Junior, Kyle says "We've got a problem." I think they say that at least once an episode. Beckett informs him that the Banatech jet left Heathrow not that long ago. As they look at the big screen, it flickers. It's someone sending a secure transmission through a secure uplink. Agent WhoTheHell says it's coming from Berlin. Diane is relived to know it's Jake. Jake's message—"BANATECH PRIVATE CHARTER NX74205 IN DANGER"—prompts Beckett to contact Berlin air traffic control and land that plane now.
Bat love bunker. Jake says he's waiting for the ping, but MacP tells him to "take the damn plane." Jake refuses. Before he can offer an explanation, DuMont's message ("DUMONT OUTHACKED BY NSA IMPOSTOR- JAKE FOLEY") appears on everyone's screen. MacP pushes Jake out of his chair and cracks the flyby wire himself as Yori, Little Bit, and Conan look at Jake.
Jet plane. The American pilot won't land the plane without good reason. Whoops, they've just lost control of the aircraft.
Hello, Joshua Junior. Beckett says German air traffic control should be able to override the code. Kyle disagrees as he watches events unfold on the big screen. The plane is going to crash "in ten minutes."
Bat bunker. Jake gets up as MacP points a gun at him. Jake tells the others that they were brought her to crash the plane, not hold it hostage. It was never about money; it was about DuMont getting back at Banatech. MacP Sneers, "Who you gonna believe? Your friend whose made you millions or this U.S. government wage slave?" Jake says DuMont can make them believe anything. DuMont has them isolated and his lackey has a gun. Do they really think they were going to get out of this alive? Yori says, "Let's rethink this" until they figure who is telling the truth. MacP asks if they all feel that way. Little Bit and Conan nod. MacP answers his own question by shooting Conan in the chest. He points the gun back and Jake and seethes, "I feel differently." What, he uses his elbows?
Hello, Joshua Junior. The plane? Still in trouble. Beckett speaks German.
Bat bunker. MacP tells Jake that he's pretty good "as a hacker and a social engineer. But you'll never be a player." Jake closes his eyes and begins to zihzihzihzihzuh. MacP tells him he had better pray.
The jet is still S.O.L. At Hello, Joshua Junior, Beckett says that the hackers have locked the Germans out of their own system; they can't override the code. No, but Jake can. On the big screen, Jake's second message of "SEND OVERRIDE CODE TO IPO1.134.136.139" is quickly relayed to Berlin by Beckett.
Bat Bunker. Jake opens his eyes and reassures Yori, "It's gonna be okay." He glances at the keyboard, and the message "OVERRIDE CODE # NCC18646309 PRESS ENTER TO ENABLE" pops up. MacP turns away from the computer station, screaming "What did you do?" as he points the gun at Jake. Yori rushes to the keyboard to press the key. When MacP turns to stop her, Jake zihzihzihzihzuh-throws him into a wall. The code travels the information superhighway, and the plane regains control.
Question: With all of his interfacing capabilities, why didn't Jake just zihzihzihzihzuh the Enter key? I guess it wouldn't have been as dramatic.
Underground, MacP is on a stretcher as Yori is escorted to the elevator by German agents. Little Bit and Conan's body are nowhere to be found. Jake tells Yori he's sorry it turned out this way. She says he has nothing to be sorry for, and offers "My real name is Rachel." "Jake," Jake jakes (ahem) as the elevator door closes between them.
NSA hallways. Diane says she can't believe that she "just rode to work with the world's first ride-sharing superspy." She says the last word like Molly Shannon says "Superstar!"; it's cute. Jake faux seriouses, "You know, I hear ride-sharing's an idea whose time has come." Diane walks away as Jake's phone rings. He's got a message. "THE LAST THING JAKE FOLEY WILL SEE IS THE DEATH OWL" However, there's no period at the end, so there could be more, yeah?
Cell of DuMont the Taunt. He snarks, "How was Berlin?" as Jake walks close to the glass doors. Jake says nothing, just eyefucks DuMont for a few moments before walking away. Kyle has taught him well.
So how on Earth did DuMont send that text message to Jake? Do we really care? This was a fun episode, and I hope they find a way to bring back Carly Pope. She and Christopher Gorham are great together. I didn't miss Sarah at all. Which means, of course, she'll probably be featured heavily in next week's episode.
© deeablo 2003
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