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Twenty minutes after getting blown up, Michael wakes up just in time to have Sam chauffeur him through a car chase from some determined pursuers. No sooner are they in the clear than Michael foils a random guy's suicide attempt and ends up taking him on as a client to help him get a quarter-million of his money back from medical scammers for his sick kid. And moments after that, he finds himself tied to a chair in Carla's new office, where they yell at each other a lot without either of them learning anything from the other before she lets him go. That leaves Michael reasonably free to work with Sam and Fiona to track down the scammers. Which they quickly do, working their way up from the muscle to the boss, whom Fi promptly scares off by getting into a bikini catfight fight with her. Of course. While that's going on, Carla hires Michael to find his own would-be killer, but Michael's so stuck on helping the kid he gets into a fistfight with Sam. Eventually Michael comes up with a way to locate the boss using the siren on Fi's boyfriend's ambulance, right before the boyfriend breaks up with her. Ultimately, the money's back (with interest), the boss goes to jail, and the sick kid will get better. As for Michael's other project, all he knows for sure is that the bomber went out his back door to the river after setting the charge, and that Carla's interested enough in his investigation to want to show up at his loft and intimidate him all sexy-like. Sounds like this could take the rest of the season.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Even though this show never does previouslies, it did for this episode. Good thing I don't recap previouslies. But just to catch you up, Michael's new boss Carla hired him for various jobs that allowed him to collect just enough clues to tell him that she was having a sniper assassinate someone on a ferry. But when Michael tried to foil the job, he learned from Sam that the sniper had been killed by a bomb at home -- only a split second before a similar bomb sent Michael flying through the air outside his loft. Talk faster time, Sam.
"When you're a spy, you learn to live with the idea of people wanting you dead," Michael tells us as the camera comes in over the Atlantic, then over the Miami waterfront, and the river, all the way to his loft, where it becomes clear that even after being blown all the way into January 2009, he's not too injured to deliver one of his dry, didactic voice-overs. "You work long enough, and the line to kill you gets pretty long." Michael is sprawled on his concrete courtyard, with his Algerian sunglasses broken and askew on his smoke-blackened face. "Still, being blown up isn't really something you get used to." Are we sure? Can we ask Fiona? Can we see how many times we can blow her up before she's used to it? Sam's crouching over Michael, yelling at him to wake up. As he helps Michael to his feet, Sam notices the Michael-sized dent on the roof of the Charger and guesses that the car saved his life. "Not the first time," Michael chokes out. Oh, it was a one-story fall, you crybabies. Michael's just lucky he's so skilled at body work. Sam exposits that Michael's been out for twenty minutes, adding that he got here as soon as he could. Only took him four months. Sam helps Michael into the shotgun seat of his Buick, which he thoughtfully backed into the courtyard, just in case a quick escape was called for. Which it apparently is; once Sam's behind the wheel, he notices a dark sedan waiting on the street outside. "Put your seat belt on, Mikey," he advises as he peels out of the courtyard. And the chase is on. Sam's got a small head start as he leads their pursuer through the local side streets at breakneck speeds upwards of twenty-eight miles per hour. But up ahead, two more sedans are pulling across the street, forming a road block. Michael's not really a hundred percent right now, so I'm going to share a tip with you: if you plan to crash through a road block, floor it and always aim for the back of one or more of the vehicles. That's because the front, where the engine and thus most of the weight is, will be harder for your vehicle to push out of the way. Plus, if you do get caught, they can't stuff you in a destroyed trunk. And that's one to grow on. "Brace yourself, Mikey," Sam says, flooring it. He does me one better, going around the cars by crashing through some scaffolding that's adjoining the road for some reason. The chase car skids to a stop rather than hitting the roadblock. Chase over.