Although Fucked-up Accent Guy "shut down" the ventilation system, that fan in the room with him is still blowing. Perhaps in the other direction now. He's got his giant briefcase open, and if that is his lunch, it's the biggest damn Thermos full of chicken noodle I've ever seen. But I think it's more likely that I'm looking at a nerve gas canister. He affixes one of those timer thingies to the side of it and plugs in a couple of USB connectors. Then he pulls out a battery-powered screwdriver and gets to work removing the metal grate from in front of the fan.
Logan is standing outside, staring up at the night sky and looking like the task is taxing his faculties. It's 6:36:52 as he turns to find his wife wandering towards him. And then the wuss turns his back on her again as she comes closer, using the slowness of her approach to gather his courage for the impending encounter. Finally she comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. He asks for forgiveness, they make up, blah blah blah, and she tells him to get back to work. "The country needs you," she says. I don't know, I'm sure the country has plenty of amateur astronomers. Anyway, we're done with them for the hour and I can't seem to be sad about that.
Carrie lets herself into the ventilation room all by herself, like a chick in a horror movie. But instead of seeing her recent sex partner strung up, beheaded, and castrated, all that's there is a ventilation fan with a missing grate, and a closed canister of Sentox nerve gas sitting in the corner. And unlike the chick in a horror movie, Carrie has a cell phone. Which she whips out, but before she gets through to anyone, Fucked-up Accent Guy materializes from the shadows behind her (it's a very cool shot) and sticks a knife in her back. So it's kind of like a horror movie after all. It's 6:38:53.
Commercials. I'm not recapping the X-Men trailer and you can't make me.
It's 6:43:03. I don't know what Fucked-up Accent Guy has been doing for the past five minutes, but he's just now getting around to setting his gas canister inside the ventilation duct under the spinning fan. He activates the timer -- starting at fifteen minutes this time, because they didn't learn anything from their failure at the hospital -- and takes it off of the canister as it ticks down.
Out on the floor, Spawn comes downstairs and finds a busy Chloe, who's acting even busier than she really is in a really sketchy way. As you'll recall, they used to work together, so even Spawn is able to read what's up: "You knew my father was alive, didn't you? For a year and a half, you've known. He trusted you." Spawn's lipstick is way lighter than it was before. Chloe says Kiefer had to trust her, since she was one of the people who helped fake his death. Spawn tells her not to make excuses, and that gets Chloe going. She says that roughly 2.5 of the four people who knew Kiefer was alive are dead now. Kim is surprised and saddened to learn of Michelle's death, and she conveys her grief with a heartfelt eye-roll. Chloe adds, "The only reason I'm alive is because your dad found me in time." She suggests Spawn cut Kiefer some slack. And it looks like after being told the same thing by only three people, Spawn is finally beginning to get the message. Has she been to college or something?
Buchanan's really making the rounds this hour. He comes into McGill's cell at 6:44:56 with the allegedly sad news that McGill's sister's dead body has been found by the LAPD. Lynn reacts in confusion and disbelief, but Buchanan says there's no mistake. "My God," McGill says, like this is just one more irritating thing that's happened to him today. He thinks Loser Boyfriend did it, but Buchanan thinks that's unlikely, since Loser Boyfriend is just as dead. And then Buchanan asks whether McSibling was involved in drug dealing or organized crime. McGill admits she was "a pretty serious user," but too stupid to be into anything deeper. He wonders why Buchanan asks, and Buchanan answers, "The killings were clearly the work of a professional." And that's when it hits McGill. He tells Buchanan he has to talk to the LAPD investigator immediately: "They have to search the apartment, see if my...keycard...was there." Except he swallows the word "keycard" like Fonzie trying to apologize. Buchanan is surprised and pissed to hear that Loser Boyfriend stole McGill's keycard, and asks why McGill didn't report it. That's McGill's cue to sound the cry of the truly busted: "I'm reporting it now! We don't have time to argue about this." He tells Buchanan to see if anyone's used the card to breach security in the past four hours. Buchanan's already dialing his cell phone.
It's Chloe who picks up the call out on the floor, and Buchanan urgently orders her to check the gate logs to see if anyone used McGill's key card. "Isn't Lynn standing right to you?" Chloe wonders, and Buchanan snaps, "Chloe, do it!" Chloe's efficiency doesn't seem to be hurt by being talked to the way she talks to everyone else, and she quickly discovers that McGill's card was indeed used at the "executive entrance" less than an hour ago. "Lock down CTU, now!" Buchanan barks, and leaves Holding with one last dirty look at McGill. Chloe calls someone to initiate a lockdown. Because when deadly nerve gas is swirling around, you'd hate to have somebody be able to crack a window or something.
Henderson is still in his interrogation chair, but he's not talking; all he's doing is twitching and panting and sweating. Burke calls to Kiefer in the observation room, saying Henderson should be talking by now. Kiefer hurries into the interrogation room, again demanding that Henderson talk. Henderson's only got one word: "Can't." Well, sure, he's probably in too much pain. Alarms start going off -- first the ones on the EKG monitors attached to Henderson, and then in CTU at large, and then on Kiefer's cell phone. Okay, the phone is just a regular ring, but he answers it anyway. It's Buchanan, saying that someone unauthorized has gotten in, but hasn't yet left. Hence the lockdown. Kiefer says he's on his way, and tells Burke to get Henderson to the clinic and stabilize him. "Don't let anyone near him," he adds on his way out. It's 6:48:33.
Commercials. For every war, there is a film that defines it. For the First Gulf War, that film is Three Kings. But Universal would like you to buy the Jarhead DVD anyway.
“ Fucked-up Accent Guy pushes the Redshirt away and shoots him twice in the chest. And my God, it's about time. Thirty-six episodes since they put the supposedly dispensable guards in red and they just now get around to killing one off? ”
6:52:40. One of the splitscreen windows shows Fucked-up Accent Guy just standing there in the ventilation room, holding his timer. You know what would have been more useful to him than a timer? A gas mask. But back in the show proper, it's taken Kiefer the full five minutes to get from Holding to the main floor. Must have stopped off for a slash along the way. Over the blaring klaxons, Buchanan says they haven't yet found the intruder, but security's going room to room. Kiefer asks for a comm unit -- I didn't know he'd taken the other one out -- so he can join the search himself. He asks Audrey if Spawn is still up in Field Ops, and Audrey confirms that she's there with Barry. Kiefer wants her brought down to the floor and put under guard. I don't blame him. You just know she'll figure out a way to make this worse if she's left alone. Meanwhile, Buchanan and Edgar have narrowed down Fucked-up Accent Guy's location to a specific area, and Buchanan directs Kiefer to enter from one angle while he's sending a whole team to go in from another angle. Fucked-up Accent Guy had better hope he meets the team first. Edgar finds Fucked-up Accent Guy on CTU's surveillance video system, and Buchanan tells him to run the dude's mug through facial recognition software. Because if they call him by name he'll stop what he's doing? Buchanan asks where Carrie is, since he needs her for some technobabble. Edgar says that McGill fired her again. No, not really; he says Carrie went to check out a warning signal. Why that's not taken as a warning signal itself under the circumstances is anyone's guess, but Chloe dives over to Carrie's terminal to take care of whatever Buchanan wanted.
Fucked-up Accent Guy is sneaking around the hallway. A rifle-carrying Redshirt is not anywhere near as sneaky, and as he comes running around a corner, Fucked-up Accent Guy fells him with a home run clothesline that nearly flips him upside down. Fucked-up Accent Guy hauls the poor Redshirt to his feet at gunpoint. The closed captioning quotes him as saying, "You're going to help me get out of here." I'll have to take closed captioning's word for it.
Now Fucked-up Accent Guy and his fucked hostage are both being tracked by video, as Chloe reports that they're in the north corridor. Edgar picks this moment to tell Chloe that he's going to go check on Carrie. "Go ahead," she bitchfaces hatefully. The video shows Fucked-up Accent Guy pointing his gun at the surveillance camera, and in a flashy bit of editing, we're in the corridor with him when the camera gets blown away. They make it to an isolated exit somewhere, and Fucked-up Accent Guy forces the Redshirt to try to open the door with his thumbprint. When the door not only fails to open, but starts emitting its own alarm, Fucked-up Accent Guy pushes the Redshirt away and shoots him twice in the chest. And my God, it's about time. Thirty-six episodes since they put the supposedly dispensable guards in red and they just now get around to killing one off? Ah, well, there'll be plenty of catching up soon. Fucked-up Accent Guy steals the dead Redshirt's walkie-talkie and makes himself scarce.
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It's Audrey who looks out onto the floor and softly says, "Oh, no." Chloe turns and looks to see the heavyset figure jogging along towards them. "Oh my God," Kiefer breathes, stricken. It's Edgar, of course, and he's no doubt been able to resist the effects of the nerve gas for so long because of his outstanding physical condition. Chloe gets up and goes to the door. From out on the floor, Edgar desperately says her name. Chloe tries to answer, but no sound comes out. It's very Wrath of Khan. Edgar takes a step toward the Situation Room, but starts crumpling as the nerve gas hits him, and he collapses behind a desk. Everyone in the room looks devastated, even Barry and Spawn, who never met him. But it's Chloe who's more wrecked than anyone; how she twists her face like that without pressing it against the glass is beyond me. At least Edgar was spared the humiliation of making yet another death-squeak down the glass. All is silent, even the clock, as it ticks down to 7:00:00 right before my local newscast, where I learn...
Also dead? Kirby Puckett. Still.