Still very disturbed about the brutal massacre of Emmett's family, Philip and Elizabeth are not exactly comforted by the fact that they'll now have unseen protection on their kids while they're out having sex with and/or killing various people while wearing various wigs. Thing is, Paige and Henry need the extra lookout because, guess what? They're dumb kids. For example, Paige decides to take a little trip during school hours in hopes of finding out what her parents were really up to recently, and spills her teen angst to another girl, a stranger on the bus. Obviously taking after her mother in the fearless department, she walks into "Aunt Helen's" house looking for clues. What she finds instead is Aunt Helen, who appears to be a loon, but is in fact an agent who busts her to Philip. He brings down the dad hammer on her and somehow avoids locking her in a closet when she dares to sass back, which is too bad, because she takes the first opportunity to sneak out of the house to hang out with her new bus friend.
Elizabeth attempts to fulfill her promise to deliver a letter revealing the truth about Emmet's family to his surviving son, but chooses instead to burn it. On the spy front, Elizabeth and Philip wig up to complete Emmett's mission to get the settings on some grinding tools central to KGB interests. They get them, but only after Elizabeth does some menacing on a feckless warehouse worker with a hard stare and a tire iron, threatening his children with bone-chilling subtlety.
Meanwhile, Stan's literally running through streets of D.C. to thwart Bruce Dameran, who strolled into the KGB in last week's episode setting off visions of grandeur for Stan and John-Boy, who thought they were about to expose and defeat attempted treason. Nope. You know what Commies are good at? Red herrings. Bruce was, in fact, merely a crazy Vietnam veteran sniper who wanted to kill some World Bank execs. So, while Stan did in fact save the day due to Nina's intel, it was all according to Arkady's plan to keep him distracted by and indebted to Nina. Ol' girl is keeping pretty busy fending off advances from Oleg -- what does he know about her double/double agent life? -- while she gives detailed reports to Arkady about Stan who, like a dummy, has sincerely expressed his love to her.
Hey, hey. Al Lowe here, subbing in, Americans-style.
We start with a flashback to 1966. Elizabeth and her now-dead friend, Leanne sit in the park, talking about Leanne's infant son, Jared. When I first watched this, I thought that Leeanne's opening line about her precious baby was "He sheds a lot." Which… doesn't make sense, at all, no. I hear it, now. She says, "He shits a lot." We get it, FX. You love cursing! And naked asses! Ugh. Anyway, I guess the wig department was taking a much-needed vacation, because these two ladies -- particularly Elizabeth -- are wearing some Questionable Sixties Hats while they keep an eye on some shady character across the street and Leeanne talks about how sweetly her husband, Emmett, sings to Jared at night. She hears him at night by the crib singing "Here, There and Everywhere," she says. "You know that Beatles song?" she asks, in her Russian accent, and Elizabeth says she thinks so. Leeanne helpfully tells her that the best Beatles album is Revolver. (I may agree…) The reference to that song is very sweet, indeed. Listen to it and think of poor Jared, who found his whole family murdered. YAY. No, you're crying.
Leeanne asks Elizabeth when she and Philip might start trying to have a family. "It's not something I've always wanted," Elizabeth says, sort of cringing, and Leeanne suggests she never tell the Centre that, implying that children are something KGB spies are expected to produce. You'd think Elizabeth -- poster-girl for all things Motherland -- would have been only too happy to comply with this requirement, but the way she sort of cringes about it indicates the negative. But speaking of the Centre, Leeanne needs a favor. Before she can ask, however, their mark arrives on the street and they stride toward him, no doubt to kill him. (After, presumably, having crazy sex with him, since hardly anyone gets killed on this show before being resoundingly drilled).
Back in the show's present day, Elizabeth is applying medicine, post-shower, to the wound she picked up during the last episode. Philip, who is spying (har har) on his wife, sexily comes over to help. "Looks good," he says, and they have a little moment. "We drive to Newport News as soon as you're dressed," he says and you can hear the weariness and wariness in both of their voices as they discuss it. "What about the kids?" Elizabeth asks, and Philip sighs that the Centre is putting eyes on them in while E & P go off to complete their mission. Is it any wonder that the Cold War lasted as long and became as bloated as it did? These networks were employing agents to spy on their own spies? That shit is expensive. Elizabeth doesn't like the whole concept. "Is this supposed to make us feel better?" she asks. "Do you feel better?" Philip can only, again, sigh.
At the breakfast table, Henry is futzing around with a star wheel he bought out of the back of a comic book. "It's not going to work," Paige says, perennial big sister wet blanket that she is. Paige is not just dressed for school, by the way; she is DRESSED for school. OMG, y'all. Remember 1981? You know, it wasn't enough to be wearing a turtleneck sweater. You'd put that on and look in the mirror and be like, "This is warm, but I need more sweater. But I don't want it to be too comfortable, so… I'll wear this coarsely-knitted thing that's basically a corrugated box with a neckhole and a waistband. What's the weather today? Slightly cool? Better add some legwarmers over these knee-high suede boots that match my mauve corduroy pants. Cinch it all with a peach belt. I wish this cowl had a bowtie. I'll just put on that string of wooden beads to set it off. Ah, I'm ready to spend two hours braiding my hair to highlight the earrings my mom made in ceramics class. NOW I look like a 43-year-old executive secretary! Ready for 8th grade!" Honestly, the entire period between 1978 and 1984 was just so physically uncomfortable! No wonder girls started dressing so skimpily. We had been in a prison of fibers for a long time! I was only nine in '81, but I remember it suffocatingly well.
Anyway, Henry has confidence in his star wheel and is still young enough to be excited about life. "I really want to memorize the constellations," he says, brightly, hoping against hope that his dad will pick up on it and be like, "Yeah, champ! Let's do that, together!" Instead, Philip fixes the wheel and tells Henry to knock himself out. "Thanks, dad," Henry says. "That's awesome." Philip: "Yeah, I am." Dude. Cue up the "Cat's in the Cradle," because when you're in Stalingrad in a couple of years, you'll wish you killed one less person to make time for that star wheel. And, yes, I see what you did there, show. Star chart. Star Wars! Good one.
Elizabeth comes in and announces that they may be late tonight, so Paige is in charge and they should feel free to heat up some Salisbury steak. "You know, Salisbury steak is technically a hamburger. In the shape of a steak," Paige says, so teenagery. Elizabeth takes a beat, like she's both proud and annoyed by the sass. "Come here," she says. Paige reluctantly does so, and her mom tells her sweetly that she's wearing too much lip gloss (declining to mention that she's wearing too much of everything else, as well). "You're so beautiful," she says, "you don't need it." Aw. Keri Russell brings tears to my eyes, sometimes.
Meanwhile, at the Beeman's, Stan is just coming home, tired. YOU KNOW WHY? Because banging your mole/witness/source is really exhausting. His poor wife comes in and fixes him coffee, reminding him that she's going to a Wener Erhard course. Oh, man. The EIGHTIES. She's taking est, and if you don't know what it is, please look it up and be amazed. Poor Sandra. She so clearly is trying to "transform one's ability to experience living so that the situations one had been trying to change or had been putting up with, clear up just in the process of life itself." Anyway, Stan is too shag-haggard (TM me) to pick up the thread of her misery, and groans a little about having to spy on a guy doing laundry all night. "What single guy does four loads of laundry?" he ponders. And see, it's 1981, so instead of stabbing him, Sandra jokingly asks him "What married guy does four loads of laundry?" They have quite the Baby Boomer chuckle. "Have fun," he tells her, kissing her goodbye. "No, no," she tries to explain, "it's not fun, Stan. It's work. On myself." He fakes understanding, saying that's what he meant, but she's pissed and rightly so.
On the way to the bus, Paige tells Henry that after school, a few of her friends are going to Georgetown to buy jeans and asks if he'll be okay on his own for a while. He says yes, and that he won't tell their parents and their casual bond of deception is further cemented.
Flashback to good ol' 1967. Philip is hunched over the radio, transcribing code like a faithful agent, when Elizabeth comes in, stressed. Her source had informed her that General Westmorelandhad called for more 100,000 more troops, something he was often doing during the Vietnam War. "You have to put this out, now," Philip says, but Elizabeth has already done it and made the drop. "You brought a codebook with you?" he asks, amazed. Teacher's pet says yes -- it was worth it in the situation. Philip follows her into the bedroom and kind of reluctantly passes on the information that the Centre has heard that there is a new assessment, presumably about Vietnam or the USSR or both, I don't know, at the Pentagon. "They know two people that have access to it," he says, passing the name to her. "They want you to try one of them tomorrow night." Elizabeth has serious blues about what she has learned. "This war," she says, "they're killing everybody." Philip does what he's best at: sighs. "I know," he says, and the pressure of the impending destruction of the world somehow convinces Elizabeth that she's ready to consummate their arranged marriage. He tenderly asks if she's sure. "You'll make a good father," she says, and the training bra comes off.
Back in '81, they're on the way to pick up their mission information when Elizabeth says she's made a few calls and found out that Jared is temporarily living with a family friend that he used to babysit for. "That's a shred of good news," Philip says, sighing. They approach the hiding spot for their mission materials and, awesomely, it's a TAB vending machine. Now, there are still people in the world addicted to TAB -- everyone has an aunt addicted to TAB -- but if you have never tasted it, you would wonder why. The precursor to everyone's Diet Coke slavery, TAB tastes like some kind of chemical monstrosity boiled in the tincture of duct tape and filtered through the T-shirt of a meth cooker. As Philip tersely gets a TAB, Elizabeth worries aloud about what would happen to their kids if they got slaughtered like Emmett and Leanne. Who would take care of them? Philip: "The Beemans." Hilarious, but Elizabeth is, as always, serious. "We don't have any real friends," she says. He snarks that that's the way she wanted it. "Me?!" she snaps, and then gets pissed when she opens their package and sees the IDs they'll have to use on their job. They're too new-looking. "I hate it when they have to rush these things!" she complains, and angrily rubs the laminate against the car door to age it.
Meanwhile, Paige is off on her shopping trip for BAD IDEA JEANS. She's not going to Georgetown! She's on a bus, headed to investigate her mom's story about Aunt Helen. Oh, lawd. PAIGE. Ugh. While on the bus, she is befriended by another teen girl on the Child of Divorce highway to see her dad. The girls bond over how totally lame their parents are and Paige tentatively says she's going to see her aunt. "You don't seem so psyched about it," CoD says. Paige says uh, she's "surprising" her. Yes, it will no doubt be a surprise for everyone.
In his office at the FBI, Jon-Boy and Stan are discussing the background on the dude who strolled into the Rezidentura in the last ep, Bruce Dameran. The guy is a Vietnam vet, shot in the hip, who ended up recovering at Walter Reed Hospital for two years. "Walter Reed," Jon-Boy quips drily. "Makes me think of peeling paint. Every wall." He goes on to say that he came back from 'Nam with third-degree burns on both legs. "I was only in the ward a month," he says. "But, those guys who are in there for years, it's their new life." Stan quietly says that he was in the FBI at the time of the war. "So was I," Jon-Boy flatly responds. "But, I volunteered, anyway." J-B's sort of a dick. Stan, who has done KIND OF a lot to serve his country, doesn't rise to whatever unspoken bait J-B is laying down and instead stays focused on Dameran. He suggests that the guy, thinking he was going to restart his promising pre-war life, sat in Walter Reed stewing about the injustices of war and got out of the hospital only to bitterly work crappy paper-pushing jobs at the Department of Agriculture and the World Bank. "Not a bad KGB target," J-B says and Stan agrees, except in this case, Dameran appears to have been the one to seek out the KGB.
So, E & P are now on the scene at the machining warehouse where they are supposed to complete the mission Emmett was on before he was killed. They're trying, on orders from Emmett's agent, to get the specs on important propeller grinding tools. It's all very missile-related and important, but I'm here to tell you what you really want to know: how are the wigs? They're pretty good. At least Elizabeth's is. Imagine a Dorothy Hamill with the ends flipped UP. You can't imagine it? It happened, my friend. Anyway, their cover story is that they're there to supervise on behalf of a moving company that is transporting some tools to zzzdetailz. While Philip handles things with the plant manager, Elizabeth heads off, ostensibly to check out the mill, but actually to sneak around.
On the bus, Paige is spilling the family secrets she doesn't even know to this bus chick. There is debate about this in the forums but to me, this girl is so obviously an agent and Paige is giving her all the inside info on how parents just don't understand and that they never like, trust her to tell her what's really going on in their lives. I don't know, girl -- maybe it's because you're on a bus to Pennsylvania when you're supposed to be in social(ist) studies. "Thanks for making this trip fly by," the girl says, as they arrive at the station. "It always feels better to have someone to talk to… doesn't it?" Smooth. She gives Paige her number and says to call her anytime, "if you wanna hang out with other people who 'get it.'" OH, SHE GETS IT.
In the warehouse, Elizabeth is prying into boxes into which Jackie From The Moving Company should obviously not be prying. A warehouse dude, Derrick, walks up and wonders what she's doing. Oh, just looking for that pesky 9-axis CNC drilling machine, that's all. No biggie. "They want extra packing in the crate," she says, which is absurd and Derrick knows it, because he is pretty smart. But, you know, not smart enough, otherwise he would have swiftly walked out the door to find his supervisor, instead of slowly announcing his intention to do so.
Elizabeth picks up a convenient crowbar and casually says that she doesn't think it's necessary to call the supervisor! Nah! Derrick IS smart enough to be scared of this tiny, tiny woman, no doubt sensing her internal intensity. "What are we going to do about this?" Elizabeth asks, when he tells her that machine has already been shipped by the Department of Defense, faking that "her boss" is going to "kill" her for not measuring the machine for that crate padding. As she slowly walks toward him with the crowbar, Derrick remembers that the blades they used the machine on are still in the warehouse with the plans, ha ha! "You probably have clearance," he says, nervously, and leads the way the blades, blabbering about how he's going to get to see his kids more because the new plant will be closer to his house. DID HE MENTION HE HAS KIDS?
Though Elizabeth has not technically tipped herself, he totally knows the deal and pulls out the family photos hoping for mercy. "Three boys," Elizabeth says, "they must keep you on your feet." Derrick is sweating, hard. "They expect me home for supper," he says. Elizabeth coldly responds that she can't see any reason why he'd miss it. Eek. They arrive in the warehouse where the blades are stored just as Philip walks up. "This guy from the mill's going to help us with our packing problem," Elizabeth says, and leads Derrick to an even more remote corner while Philip gets the specs/plans they need from the blades.
Meanwhile, Paige is walking up the steps of a nice, quiet suburban house in PA. She rings the doorbell and, when no one comes, just WALKS IN to this house where -- even if the residents were home -- she would not know them. Paige girl, come on. Inside, she calls out for Aunt Helen.
Back at the warehouse, things are not looking good for Derrick. Philip has finished photographing the propeller info and flings it aside, snarking on the "sloppy movers." He's clearly waiting on "Jackie" to finish the job (i.e. kill Derrick), but Elizabeth is hesitating. Now, when I say "hesitating," I don't mean that she's cracking under the pressure of murdering people. No. She coldly asks Derrick to see those photos of his children again and removes the one of the youngest. "Danny, right?" she says, pocketing the picture, and gives Derrick a knowing look before meaningfully walking out, leaving him in a freezing cold sweat.
Paige seems just about ready to give up in the empty house, when an old lady comes down the stairs and around the corner, surprising her. It's Aunt Helen! "Oh, you're here!" the lady says, thrilled to see Paige and rambling on about how she should have dressed up more or done her hair. "I'll make up your room right away," Aunt Helen says, "and get out your Raggedy Ann lamp, and then we can eat! I'm happy you're home, Shelly." Aw, damn. Paige doesn't know quite how to deal with this, now that she has broken into the home of this clearly demented stranger. She looks over Aunt Helen's shoulder and, what's that, sees a photo of her own mom, holding her, as a baby.
Stan's at the World Bank, checking up on the work history of Dameran. He notes that Dameran's boss is wearing fancy tux shoes with his suit. The guy laughs that yes, they're having a meeting today with their new executive leader and that his wife wouldn't let him wear his scuffed shoes. As they are having this amusing exchange, it is revealed that Dameran's not there today -- he called in sick. Stan looks worried.
Back at the TAB machine or someplace equally remote, Philip and Elizabeth are back in their regular clothes, sans wigs. "He'll stay quiet," Philip says of Derrick. Elizabeth nods. "It's better than having him disappear." Murdered fathers are obviously on her mind, because she tells Philip that she'll be home later, and he knows she's off to perform that favor Leanne asked of her 15 years ago.
Stan's messing around in Dameran's office and notices… there's not much in it. Like, nothing. He races back to the tux shoe guy's office and asks about that event he mentioned before. Oh, it's only a World Bank thing where the executive directors from, like, nine countries are coming to meet. Stan flips, asking where it's taking place. "The Marquee Hotel," the guy says. Snaaaap. Stan: "The Marquee on D Street?!" That's the one. Stan tells the dude to call 911 and tell them to go there (how they'll know who and what to send, who knows, but whatever), and races, ON FOOT -- no doubt muttering under his breath that he's too old for this shit -- all the way to hotel, which is, hello, across the street from the laundromat where he watched Dameran starch his whites all night. Bursting through the laundromat, he finds a back alley with stairs to the roof. Guess who's up there, ready to snipe the hell out of some World Bank mofos? Dameran.
Stan covers him with his gun and tries to talk him down. "FBI…" Stan groans. "You're here to protect the World Bank?! Do you know what they do to people like me and you?!" Dameran replies. He says that when he was in Nam, they told him who the enemy was and he believed them. But when he got home, he realized the real enemy was these jags, the ones who own everything. Stan soothingly says he wants to help and, damn, if I was a would-be assassin, I would totally let him help me. I love Stan. They chose the PERFECT actor for this role in Noah Emmerich, and though his Nina-related bone-headedness is about to bite him in the ass, I love him. He's all tall and soft-spoken and straight-laced and well, even though he doesn't want to, maybe, he shoots Bruce Dameran – whose parting words are "Ronald Reagan doesn't care!!" -- because he's a dutiful badass.
I must make a small sidestep here to gleefully announce that, because I was subbing in for this recap, I had to jump past my husband in our Americans binge-watching schedule in order to be fully caught up by the time this episode aired. He is a professor of history, currently shaping the young minds on the very subjects of Vietnam and the subsequent not-caring of Reagan and, wow, the lecture I would be receiving right now on all of that… y'all don't know. So, thank you. I mean, I would have just put all of that information in the recap, so actually maybe you should thank me…
But, uh, not as scared as Paige should be. Ol' girl arrives home to find her dad casually waiting in the foyer. She blurbs out some crap about how she was late at school, trying out for the super-competitive debate club and how she's working on a speech on the ethical ramifications of test tube babies. 1981, you were a long time ago. "Good luck with that," Philip snarks, before suggesting that she sit down. Somehow, Paige doesn't tip to the severity of the situation and still tries to play it off when Philip says that "lying will not be tolerated." Here's where the smart kid shuts up, but not Paige. When told that Aunt Helen called and said that her daughter came to visit, she does the "I'm sorry" bit, but when Philip begins to bring down the dad hammer, she gets defensive and takes the Teen Tone. Wrong move. So wrong, because Philip can bring down the dad hammer AND sickle, you know what I'm saying? He very intensely says that his own father died when he was six, SIX, and that she's lucky to have what she has. After being reminded that she's under strict instructions to be at home, she eye-rollingly asks if she's excused and he says yes, but means no. She flounces off, I guess to write a letter to Shaun Cassidy detailing how her parents will never understand her.
Back at the Rez, Nina types up (on a supercool Cyrillic typewriter) her report for Arkady about her recent goings-on, remembering Stan's declarations of love. A sly, gloating smile crosses her face. The exhausting Oleg comes in to annoy her with an invitation to a hockey game. She tries to brush him off while he quizzes her about her report and tries to get a look at it. Failing to do so, he leaves her with one of the hockey tickets, telling her to scalp it if she doesn't want to go. "Scalp?" she asks. Oleg: "It's a capitalist term. Sell it; pocket the money. I won't tell anyone." With a wink, he is gone, leaving Nina and us to wonder if he knows of the sideline she had going that got her into this mess in the first place.
Elizabeth gently questions Jared if he is sleeping at night, and if he is comfortable at the house where he's staying. She tells him he's entitled to take a leave from school, that no one would expect him to go. "My parents would," he says, breaking my heart. Elizabeth quietly says that healing takes time, especially when there are no answers. A moment passes where it seems like she is about to give him the letter when he starts talking about the day of the murder. He had this ear infection, he says, his mom didn't want him to go swimming. "If I didn't go in the pool…" he says, wondering what if, and breaks down sobbing, falling into Elizabeth's lap. She rocks him, telling him that none of this is his fault.
Elsewhere, the chess pieces of this game are moving: Arkady reviews Nina's report, happy that Stan might be given a medal due to the insider information Nina gave him about Dameran and thus be in her debt. His eyebrows go exceptionally high when Nina tells him that Stan says he loves her. "You may be climbing out of the hole you dug for yourself," he says, impressed. Paige, meanwhile, frustrated by her teenagehood, calls the girl from the bus, asking to hang out, and SNEAKS OUT to meet her. Paaaaaiiiiige. Have you no sense among those many layers of clothing?! Philip, developing photos of the propeller in the darkroom, is unaware. He's also sadly unaware of the frustrations of Henry, who is trying hard to find Polaris and use his star wheel, alone, but failing. Finally, Henry sighs and throws the thing away.
Elizabeth drives away from the house where Jared is now being lovingly embraced by his family friends. The agonizingly painful strains of Peter Gabriel break my heart into 70 bazillion pieces as we see that she has chosen not to tell Jared the truth. She has a smoke, folds the letter into the shape of a memorial candle, puts it on the ground and kneels down beside it as it burns.
Al Lowe is all for some glad-handing and back-slapping and high-fiving at deepsubject@gmail.com... so, come on with it.