Blip blip blip. "24." Longest day of Kiefer's life.
Previouslys. ForeignAccentedTerrorBoss pulled the plug on Gaines's operation. Jalapeno didn't think anyone would die as a result of her involvement with Gaines, but they did…herself included. All Palmer wanted to do was protect BadTherapist from the silencing tactics of KreepyKarl, but his actions were in vain. The KieferKlan were reunited when Kiefer broke into the TerrorKompound. He called Alberta for back-up and spared Rick's life on the advice of his stupid stupid daughter. An armed konfrontation between the KieferKlan and the TerrorMinions separated everyone and sent them running into the woods. Kaboom!
The action begins right where we left off with the KieferKamper exploding into flames, throwing TerrorMinions back several feet. Gaines looks around. FauxYork looks around. Elsewhere, Kiefer and Rick, a.k.a. Son In Lawlessness, run into the woods. Gaines and FauxYork step over some presumably dead bodies and head towards the woods with a half a dozen TerrorMinions in tow. Why any of the TerrorMinions are still hanging around is a complete mystery to me. They don't look like they believe in some afterlife complete with willing virgins and a 24/7 open bar is awaiting them for the killing of Kiefer. I mean, as I've mentioned in recaps, I've held onto some crap jobs, but when stuff is blowing up around the office and my co-workers are flying through the air, it just might be a good time to get the fuck out of there. Not to mention the fact that it doesn't look like your final paycheck is going to arrive in your mailbox anytime soon, and it's not like you're going to be able to complain to the California Labor Board about it. But then, maybe that's my problem. Maybe I just don't believe in professionalism enough to risk my life for a cause, and these TerrorMinions are America's real heroes. Nevertheless, Gaines tells AsianTerrorMinion to "cut them off at the service road," and commands the other TerrorMinions to go into the woods to find the KieferKlan. Then he jams the butt of his automatic rifle into the abdomen of FauxYork -- or as we are now calling him on the forums, PiñataYork (tm kittykat). Like, way to boost employee morale, Gaines!
And now, since so many of you have emailed me to tell how much you liked my workplace stories, I think I'll tell another story about my tenure at Bad Television Documentary Company. You know, the place I mentioned in my last recap where I worked, was fired, and then they wouldn't let me go home? When I first started working at BTDC, I reported directly to a man I affectionately refer to as PsychoFlanders. He physically looked like Ned Flanders from The Simpsons, and he often tried to fashion himself as a comfy lovable boss, complete with Cosby sweaters and a perpetual aw-shucks bewildered look on his face, but PsychoFlanders had issues involving, well, anger management. He was my boss because he was no longer welcome at CBS after he threw a chair at one of his co-workers. Furthermore, and I'm not entirely sure about this, but the word on the street was that the chair in question was an Emeco Naval Chair -- an important detail, because these chairs are quite heavy. Amazing how it all comes together on some level, right? And might I point out at this point that the Emeco Naval Chair is also the chair of choice at another dysfunctional work environment I had the pleasure of experiencing -- that of the Silvery-Haired Has-Been Designer's Atelier. Not that anyone threw one at me, but…well, I'll go into it in another recap.
So anyway, I walk into work one day -- I worked from 4 PM to midnight, because there was so little equipment in this production company that I was literally unable to do my job until everyone else went home -- and I notice that there is a brown stain on the wall of my office. Okay, it wasn't exactly an office, it was more of a dark, dusty, windowless room where all of my pertinent equipment was kept. There was many a workday where I would go into my "office" just to cry, because I knew that the big machines I had to use intimidated everyone else and therefore I could be guaranteed a degree of privacy not found in the other, more glamorous rooms. I don't exactly think anything of this brown stain because, quite frankly, it wasn't unusual to find, say, a syringe or a glassine envelope with a layer of powdery residue inside lying around the office. I'm not trying to portray my television career as glamorous or anything; I am simply pointing out that working for BTDC was such a painful experience that some of my co-workers needed an anesthesia of some sort to function. So Jacob, my "other boss," walks into my "office" and points at the brown stain on the wall. Now at this point, I have such a case of Stockholm syndrome from working there that I am convinced the brown stain is my fault, even though I know it's not. I begin to apologize for the brown stain but Jacob cuts me off. Apparently, Jacob was working on something, but PsychoFlanders had just been given the heads-up by ShortFatTVBoss that Jacob's project was unnecessary. So instead of, say, tapping Jacob on the shoulder and informing him that the project in question was no longer required, PsychoFlanders comes into my "office" with his morning cup of hot chocolate and punches Jacob in the face with his free hand in order to get him to stop working on said project. Jacob, who has anger management issues of his own, punches PsychoFlanders back, and PsychoFlanders's hot chocolate goes flying into the wall and leaves a stain. I then spend the rest of the afternoon playing therapist to Jacob, who felt guilty for punching PsychoFlanders even though it was in self-defense. After I had sufficiently calmed Jacob down, he ordered me to clean the stain off the wall. I'd like to say that I quit my job right then and there, but I was only able to leave that office eight months later when they, uh, fired me. Wait, this story isn't entertaining at all. Why am I telling it? Oh, never mind.
"I brought Kiefer here, I can handle him," says FauxYork to Gaines. Gaines tells him to "stop thinking."
Elsewhere in the TerrorWoods, Bride and Spawn notice all the smoke coming from the KieferKamper. Trying to quell their anxious thoughts that there might be a Kiefer on that barbie, the Kieferettes decide to keep moving toward the TerrorWaterTower where he told them to meet him.
Kiefer and Son In Lawlessness run further into the woods. SiL is hurt and needs to rest by a tree. Kiefer won't let him. Kiefer? Leave him there. Your daughter will find another orphaned pothead to date by the end of the week, 'kay? Their argument is kut short by the appearance of a TerrorMinion, who passes by their hiding place without discovering them. When the koast is klear, they kontinue on towards the TerrorWaterTower.
The Kieferettes are following the kreek to the TerrorWaterTower, but they notice a pickup truck in the distance. They hide in some bushes while more TerrorMinions exit the truck to go look for the KieferKlan. Bride tries to find an alternate route on the WhateverPalmPilot and konkludes that if they kut through the woods, they'll pick up the kreek again. "Dad told us to follow the kreek," whines Spawn. Uh, Spawn? If you want to get specific here, "Dad" told you to go to bed at a few minutes past midnight, and if you'd followed his advice back then, you'd be chowing down on a sloppy joe in your high school cafeteria while your friend PMMS lectured you on proper blowjob techniques right now instead of running for your life. Bride informs Spawn that they have no choice. They leave the kreek for the road less traveled.
Back at CTU, Nina kalls Kiefer's cell phone. No answer. Soul Patch comes by to tell Nina about some irregularities he's found in Cofell's background, but she's too worried about Kiefer to listen. "If anyone knows how to take kare of himself, it's Kiefer," says Soul Patch. But Nina isn't komforted. She beats herself up for not bringing Alberta in sooner. Soul Patch reminds her that she did what she thought was best for the KapturedKieferettes. Nina apologizes to him for being "harsh" lately. Whatever, Donna Martin! Then she starts to tell him something. An innocent remark about being stressed? The fact that she's selling secrets to Gaines, her secret lover? But before she can get into it, Alberta enters to inform the Broom Closet Twins that La Madre de la Jalapeno is on her way to CTU to pick up Kyle. Oh, Jesus! I guess this means that El Jalapeniño has been sitting in some waiting room this entire time, reading back issues of Highlights Magazine or Cricket or something. Alberta wants the Broom Closet Twins to detain La Madre de la Jalapeno when she arrives and ask her about the three hundred thousand pesetas that were recently wired into her checking account. Oh, and I just thought I'd point out that as Alberta becomes nicer, her hair gets fluffier.
The time is 12:07:45 PM. Palmer's Secret Service van flees the office of Ferragamo the ScorchedPsychologist in search of Maureen Kingsley. "Maureen Kingsley is finally going to get the story of her career," vows Palmer, despite the objections of Poor Man's Hume Cronyn. Oh, and after he tells Maureen all about the FlamingFreudian, he's going to speak to the D.A. And it's going to happen, too. Because every time someone on this show has a noble plan, that plan always gets carried out. Thanks for the heads-up, Palmer! PMHC recommends that Palmer talk it over with his wife. "She deserves to know," says PMHC. I think we know where this is going.
Back in the TerrorWoods, Gaines calls ForeignAccentedTerrorBoss to tell him about a "change of plans." I guess you could call the KieferKlan's fiery escape a "change of plans." There was this fresh lump of poo, you see. The TerrorSquad had planned for it to remain a comfortable distance from this rather large electric fan which was supposed to be unplugged. That plan was changed at some point. I guess that FATB is less sensitive to certain subtleties of the English language, because he seems to think that Kiefer's arrival at the TerrorKompound is good news and therefore a reason to give Gaines yet another chance to carry out the TerrorPlan. FauxYork advises Gaines that they might want to rethink the pursuit of Kiefer since he overheard The Velvety Voiced One himself kalling Nina and giving her lokation koordinates. Gaines rationalizes his decision to keep up his kwest to rekapture Kiefer by explaining that killing Kiefer is their only hope of surviving the onkoming wrath of both CTU and the TerrorBrothers. I can't see how this is a better idea than FauxYork's suggestion that they both get the fuck out of Dodge City, but it ensures a final konfrontation between Kiefer and Gaines, so I'm not going to komplain too kontentiously.
And speaking of Kiefer, he does his wood nymph dart with Rick in tow until he finally reaches the TerrorWaterTower. After Kiefer checks the inside with his gun drawn, they klimb inside and wait for the Kieferettes. Kiefer also checks Rick's arm and koncludes that Rick isn't mortally wounded -- a big disappointment to many of us. Oh, it's not like we literally want him to die or anything; it's just that we've been waiting so long for him to satisfy our predictions of an early death that it's just getting silly at this point. Like, wouldn't it be great if the very last five minutes of the season finale consisted of Rick choking to death on a plate of ribs at a local bar and grill? No, wait! I've got an even better idea! What if Rick goes to the CBS studios to be interviewed for his role in bringing down the TerrorSquad and he gets his skull crushed by a flying Emeco Naval Chair? Then, I'd know that Joel Surnow was really reading my recaps. So then Kiefer dresses Rick's wounds in this manner that doesn't strike me as homoerotic at all.
Meanwhile, the Kieferettes are lost. And Spawn is being a total bitch about it. Eerie Saint-Saëns-esque violins start playing. The time is 12:12:02 PM.
GE has a question. Is there anything more astonishing than purple hair? Well, since the birth of punk rock took place over twenty-five years ago, I'd say that there are indeed are many things in existence these days more astonishing than purple hair. But the thing I find most amusing about this commercial in which alterna-boy discovers how "far out" his hair looks under a "Reveal" bulb is that there is this little caption in the lower right-hand corner of the screen that says "re-enactment." Like, oh, thanks, I thought we were watching a documentary or something. And this ad for Touchstone Picture's latest comedy, Sorority Boys, has me breathless with anticipation. Oh sure, cross-dressing has long been a widely traveled genre in Western art, literature, and drama thanks to Shakespeare plays, Bosom Buddies, and the Academy Award-winning Boys Don't Cry, but Sorority Boys offers something new and different to this rich cultural tradition: cross-dressing…but within the context of the brutally hierarchical fraternity/sorority tradition. I don't think cinema -- or 7th Heaven's Barry Watson's career, for that matter -- will ever be the same again.
The time is 12:16:29 PM. Klockwise from the top left, Gaines and FauxYork make their way through the TerrorWoods, Lady Mac is back, and Kiefer plays nursemaid to his Son In Lawlessness. While PMHC waits outside looking concerned, the Palmers sequester themselves in one of the rooms in their hotel suite and discuss their move. Palmer wants to come clean. Lady Mac says there's no point in throwing away their dream because of something beyond their control. Palmer says the truth will come out anyway. Lady Mac argues that Kreepy Karl and "the people he works for" will "twist the system" to see that it never does. "Don't fight these people," says Lady Mac. "You need power!" You see, Palmer could accomplish so much good if he only left the Ferragamo death alone. Palmer's not so sure about that. Am I crazy, or does Lady Mac look an awful lot like Katie Holmes when she leans in and tries to be all earnest?
Back at the TerrorWaterTower, Kiefer is panicked that the Kieferettes haven't arrived at their meeting place yet. He calls Alberta and tells her to have the CTU tactical units pick him and Rick up at the TerrorWaterTower, but warns her that Bride and Spawn are still missing. Alberta looks sincerely concerned. I hate that! Rick thanks Kiefer for saving his stupid ass. Kiefer is all, "Thank my daughter." Yeah, more like "thank my daughter's vagina." See, now it's time for Kiefer to dispense some wisdom. Rick didn't know what he was in for when he agreed to kidnap Spawn. "You kidnapped my daughter," says Kiefer, using his sand-colored velvety voice of gentle but assertive moral instruction. "You're going to have to live with that." Oh yeah, and something else about getting a second chance only after you've cleaned up your mess in the first place. And with that, Kiefer is back prancing through the forest in search of the womenfolk. He hears a walkie-talkie in the distance, so he stops and hides. Meanwhile, the Kieferettes, who are still trying to figure out where they are, see TerrorMinions in the distance, so they duck into this abandoned Frank Lloyd Wright house.
AsianTerrorMinion enters. The Kieferettes hide. He looks around. Bride is ready for him with her gun cocked. Heh! I said "cocked"! He doesn't discover their hiding place, and Bride doesn't have to use her gun. Meanwhile, Spawn has this look on her face like she's all, "Mom! If you use that gun on AsianTerrorMinion in front of all my friends, I am going to be totally embarrassed!" AsianTerrorMinion leaves, and it's time for another of Bride's mysterious stomach pains. Oh wait, ATM didn't leave. He's right there with his gun drawn. But Kiefer is there too. He shoots ATM. The KieferKlan reunites and takes ATM's walkie-talkie. Gaines asks via his walkie-talkie for an explanation for the gunfire. "Where's Rick?" whines Spawn. The time is 12:24:48 PM.
The time is 12:29:11 PM. Klockwise from the top left, Spawn's been around the TerrorKompound and she she she she…she can't find her baby, Alberta can't find anything to do in the KieferKube now that she doesn't have to stare at Nina anymore through the vertical blinds, and Gaines and FauxYork can't find the KieferKlan. In yet another exquisitely decorated room at CTU, La Madre de la Jalapeno, her Marlo Thomas pageboy flecked with gray streaks, packs up Jalapeno's things, which include a lot of pictures of El Jalapeniño. Uh, was this Jalapeno's office? Or is this a special CTU room where they store the office crap of CTU agents who die on the job? The Broom Closet twins enter the room. Hey, it's an episode of Six Feet Under with Soul Patch as Nate, the handsome yet searching heir to a funeral home, and Nina as Rachel, his borderline massage therapist girlfriend who work together through their own intimacy issues in order to combine forces and heal grief-stricken Los Angelenos everywhere, whether they ask them to or not. "How can a woman bleed to death and no one does anything about it?" asks Mamacita Jalapeno. Was that some rejected line from Bob Dylan's "Blowing in the Wind"? Soul Patch is right there with the closure. "Your daughter was a traitor," he says. Isn't it always the case that people just love to glorify the actions of the recently deceased? I mean, we all know that Jalapeno was a pawn, but in death she became a traitor! Strangely, this ain't making Mama J any happier about her daughter's suicide. Nor is she soothed any further by Soul Patch's reassurances that El Jalapeniño will not be placed in a foster home should Mama J find it in her heart to answer some questions. Nina asks her where she got her hands on $300,000. Mama J answers that the money was from Jalapeno. She wanted her to have it in case anything happened to her. Good thinking, Jalapeno! I'm sure that if the CIA figured out you'd compromised the agency, they'd never think to follow the money back to your mother's checking account or anything. Like, seriously? It would have been way smarter to get paid in cash and hide it all inside of a stuffed animal. Again I ask, doesn't anyone read legal thrillers anymore? Mama J doesn't know where the money came from. Soul Patch is all, "You never asked?"
Back in the TerrorForest, Gaines determines that ATM is the only TerrorMinion who hasn't checked in with Gaines since the shooting. Meanwhile, on another "screen," the KieferKlan is trying to find their way back to the TerrorWaterTower.
Palmer pounds on Reporter Maureen's hotel room door. On another screen, we can see Maureen either a) packing her things or b) practicing the folding techniques she just learned in a training program for Gap salespeople. She reluctantly lets Palmer in. Palmer begins to tell her about the ScorchedPsychiatrist. Maureen already knows. She's "left the network," and that's why she's packing -- although she has literally folded and unfolded the same peach blouse three times in the course of this scene, leading me to believe that she really has gotten a job at the Gap. Oh, and behind her is this giant Pottery Barn-esque cobalt blue soup plate that is perched atop her dresser on a display stand as if it's an objet d'art. Maureen? It's a hotel room. No one is expecting you to have knick-knacks lying around, so stop trying to work the soup plate, 'kay? You're not fooling anyone. Oh, and another thing? Since Kreepy Karl is probably coming after you too, you might want to roll that damn blouse up and shove it in your bag already. Anyway, Maureen has been scared off the story. She's destroyed all her evidence. Palmer tries to convince her to change her mind by caressing her shoulder, but Maureen doesn't believe that he can protect her sufficiently. I can't believe that Dennis Haysbert told Rosie O'Donnell that Palmer had never slept with Maureen. But then, it's not like Rosie's been telling us about all the women she's slept with, either…yet.
Gaines and FauxYork find AsianTerrorMinion's body in the Frank Lloyd Wright shed. When they discover that his radio is missing, they get really pissed. "Kiefer's been listening to every damn word!" says Gaines, the phlegm in this throat as thick and creamy as a steaming plate of wild mushroom risotto. They stomp out of there in search of The Velvety Voiced One and his directionally challenged family.
Back at CTU, the Broom Closet twins --who are eating lunch at El Desk del Soul Patch -- have one of those WhateverProfiles up of La Madre de la Jalapeno on a computer screen complete with head shot, fingerprints, and fave member of *NSYNC. There's a portion of the screen that contains her checking account transactions, which reveal a couple of wire transfers from an account in Belgrade. Hello? For the forty-seventh time since midnight, has anyone ever heard of the Cayman Islands or Switzerland? Hello? Also, what's with the fact that these wire transfers are the only two transactions listed from her account in the last two months -- does this woman simply not have bills to pay? Oh, and since this information was available at your fingertips all along, why did you have to question her just now? They decide to trace these Belgrade wire transfers and crosscheck them against Kiefer's field information. Or at least that's what I thought they said. Their mouths were full while they were talking. Oh, and Mama J likes Lance.
The KieferKlan finally sees the TerrorWaterTower. It's off in the near distance, behind a semi-largish pond. Kiefer notes that the kopters should be there by now. He tries to call CTU again, but his cell phone signal is down. "What about Rick?" says Stupid Spawn. "Isn't he supposed to meet us here?" Hey Spawn, weren't you supposed to get shot in the face a couple of episodes ago? Kiefer explains that Rick is wounded and hiding in the water tower. He will come out when the kopters arrive. "What are we waiting for?" whines Spawn, running over to the TerrorWaterTower and getting almost nicked by sniper fire. It's official. She's got to be adopted. Kiefer goes off in search of the sniper. "Don't move for anything," he says, looking right at Spawn. And by "anything," I believe he is referring primarily to Rick's penis. The time is 12:36:47 PM.
The time is 12:41:06 PM. Klockwise from the top left, Gaines aims his rifle at Stupid Spawn, the Broom Closet Twins study the monitor of an iBook, and the Kieferettes hide behind the bulletproof shelter of a shrub. Kiefer doubles back around and tries to sneak up on Gaines and FauxYork. They see him coming, shoot at him, and Gaines concludes that he is only trying to "draw us away from the womenfolk." "Fine by me," says FauxYork. "Once he's dead, they'll be easy." Hee! He said "easy"! Gaines orders FauxYork to circle around to get a "clear shot." Gaines keeps shooting at Kiefer. Kiefer finds an abandoned stainless steel napkin dispenser and buffs it with his jacket so he can do the ole "blinding flash" trick and force Gaines to get disoriented. And it's a good thing that Kiefer stole that radio, 'cause now Kiefer and Gaines can have that villain/hero dialogue that always precedes the climax of any good spy thriller. Meanwhile, choppers can be heard in the distance. FauxYork sees one above him. What is it about the sight of a chopper on TV that automatically makes the M*A*S*H theme go through my head? And then I get depressed, because M*A*S*H was one of those shows that my lefty parents always wanted me to watch because it was sort of about Vietnam, plus Alan Alda was such a feminist. It was, for me at least, the green vegetable of TV. And it was always broadcast on Sundays, so I associate it with the fact that I'm going to have to go to bed soon and wake up for school the day. Kiefer tilts the napkin dispenser. Gaines gets disoriented. Kiefer shoots him in the arm and runs to a more advantageous spot in the woods.
The time is 12:43:56 PM. Palmer walking down the halls of this building that has cream-on-cream patterned textured walls just like the W Hotel. He's flanked by PMHC and several Secret Service agents. Oh, it's the D.A.'s office. I should have known. The D.A. is in a meeting, so they have to wait. Meanwhile, Palmer notices the presence of Kreepy Karl sitting in an ugly comfy chair from Seaman's Furniture at the other end of the hall. Palmer excuses himself and walks over to tell Kreepy Karl that he's meeting with the D.A. in a few minutes to discuss the Ferragamo murder, and "it's over" for Kreepy Karl. And so you just know that Palmer announcing his meeting with the D.A. to Kreepy Karl can only mean that Palmer is really really going to do just what he says he's going to and go talk to the D.A. in a matter of minutes. Plus it's always wise to give your nemeses a heads up…in Oppositeland. Karl launches into another "greed is good" and "power is attained through necessary evil" speeches. He also makes this long-winded metaphor about how the political process is this big machine and he's the "oil" that keeps the motor running. "Oil"? Don't you mean "lube"? Oh, try and tell me you weren't thinking that too! And is this "oil" you speak of mango-flavored and fortified with nonoxynol-9? Just wondering. "What did you do to BadTherapist?" asks Palmer. "Every engine produces waste," says Kreepy Karl, coyly batting his eyelashes and checking out Palmer's package. "It's the physics of the situation." Palmer argues that no jury would convict his son anyway. But Kreepy Karl isn't talking about the dead rapist. "If someone should mention the word arson…" says Kreepy Karl, shrugging his shoulders. This stops Palmer cold. I'm thinking that Theo likes to play with matches. Palmer grabs Kreepy by the collar and shoves him up against the wall…which Kreepy doesn't exactly seem to mind. "The people we both work for have ways of getting what they want," says Kreepy, adjusting his suit and exiting cheerfully. PMHC enters and tells Palmer that the D.A. is ready. Palmer decides not to say anything to him. "I'm running for president," he says, walking away. "And I'm going to win." PMHC proceeds to give the camera the hammiest, most self-serving expression of concern I have ever seen on network television. He even strokes his non-existent beard. The time is 12:47:22 PM.
I am majorly crushing on this guy in the Dodge Caravan ad. You know, the one who's driving around picking up strangers and all their stuff who need him to drive them to tuba lessons, a civil war battle reenactment, the racetrack, et cetera. He should totally have his own soap opera in Bolivia. The TGI Friday's ad with the posing chefs? I will never forgive Anthony Bourdain for making the chef into today's rock star. Like people who work in kitchens don't have enough attitude as it is. And now we're supposed to get all dreamy about the losers who microwave chicken quesadillas at TGI Friday's? I'm so sure. And I would love to know where this yoga class is being taught where the smell of Aspercreme makes everyone run for the exits. When you are bent over a mat and the person in front of you has his butt in your face, the smell of Aspercreme is the least of your fears.
The time is 12:51:29 PM. Klockwise from the top left, the choppers are coming, and Kiefer finds a trail of blood on the ground. The Kieferettes see the choppers and do the Loretta Swit/Larry Linville sprint from their hiding place behind the shrub to flag them down. The copters land, and the military personnel get out and make the Kieferettes put their hands up until they realize who they are. And no, they don't shoot Spawn so she can't breed later. Bride hysterically tries to inform the men that her husband is still in the woods. Of course, I'm so used to all these plot twists that I just know these CTU agents are really TerrorMinions and they're going to kidnap Bride and Spawn all over again. So they're being escorted back to the copter, and Spawn starts sprinting away from everyone like she's Shirley Temple in the movie Heidi. She heads for the TerrorWaterTower, because Rick is supposed to be there. I have officially run out of Spawn insults. She has literally worked my last nerve to the point that all I can do is type the word "stupid," hit the repeat key, and hold it down for a half an hour. None of the CTU personnel try to stop her -- you'd think someone would want her detained and out of the way so that she wasn't interfering with their military action -- nor does anyone stop Bride from running after her. Rick isn't in the water tower. "Where is he?" whines Spawn, flapping her arms around just like James Van Der Beek. "I'm sure they'll find him," says Bride. "What if Gaines's men find him first?" says Spawn. "Well, then he'll be dead and then, uh, he'll be taken out of here in a body bag," quips Bride. It's official. I love Bride! Not to mention the fact that I am in awe of her impulse control, because I'd be slapping the shit out of Spawn right now if I were her. Bride convinces Spawn to get into the copter and leave the finding of her pothead kidnapper to the people in charge. As it turns out, Rick is so creeped out by Spawn's neediness that he's run away and found this bus stop on a highway, where he sits and waits for the bus back into town.
Kiefer follows a trail of blood to Gaines's hiding place. Ah, but a shot of Gaines establishes that Gaines is purposefully leaving a trail of blood to entrap Kiefer. They have some more villain/hero pre-climax dialogue via walkie-talkie. But unlike the usual outcome of those expository dialogues, Gaines can't tell Kiefer anything useful because the TerrorBosses haven't briefed him on any of their motivations. Gaines waits by a tree for Kiefer to follow the blood and expose himself so that he can shoot Kiefer. Kiefer asks why they brought his family into this. "That was probably a mistake," admits Gaines, obviously referring to the fact that they had no idea how handy Bride of Kiefer is with a rock. "They wanted to make it personal." "Who's they?" asks Kiefer, his velvety voice live and in the flesh right behind Gaines. "Put down your weapon," says Kiefer. "We can protect you." Gaines is all "no you can't" and tries to shoot Kiefer. Kiefer ducks and shoots Gaines first. He's dead. A CTU guy finds them and takes Kiefer back to his family. The nightmare is over. A public bus comes to pick up BloodyRick. Kiefer enters the TerrorWaterTower. The KieferKlan reunites again. Hugs all around. He makes Spawn put on a sweater. Uh, thanks, Kiefer. I've been wanting to do that myself since midnight. An agent enters and escorts them back to the CTU chopper. They ride away from the TerrorKompound as a family. I keep waiting for the pilot to take off his sunglasses and reveal himself to be FauxYork, but it doesn't happen. The screen splits to reveal Palmer giving his wife the cold shoulder while PMHC shrugs his own shoulders at her.
Back at CTU, Alberta drops by Nina's desk to inform her that Kiefer is alive and on his way back to the office. Nina tries to hide a major sigh of relief. Oh, but she has more news. They traced the money in La Madre de la Jalapeno's account back to an offshore account, which led them to an account in Belgrade. Uh, no, you didn't, Nina. You just showed us Mama J's checking account, which showed a transaction from Belgrade in the account itself. What's with this offshore intermediary? Never mind. Anyway, it seems that Palmer is still in danger. From the wire transfers, it's apparent to the Broom Closet Twins that yet another assassin has arrived in Los Angeles from Yugoslavia. At the mention of Assassin Number Two, we cut to a close-up of the walking legs of a mystery person carrying a stainless steel briefcase. The new assassin enters a car and leaves a parking garage. It's a dead ringer for Kiefer -- except his cheekbones are way higher, so that he kind of resembles a member of eighties supergroup A-ha. The time is 12:59:58...12:59:59…1:00:00 PM.