What starts off as scary, Enterprise-styled credits (Jake 2.0, emblazoned across our big blue marble of a planet) quickly boils down to a sleek, modern, Minority Report-looking intro scene. We zoom down through the atmosphere, onto the continent, then onto a government office plaza: The National Security Agency, which, as I've learned from Keckler, is a real branch of our government, not fictitious as I said in the recaplet. What the fuck, may I ask, was the NSA doing on September 11th, 2001? NSA and NORAD, I'm asking? Hello?
But I digress. On this barren and sterile government office plaza are ant-like worker bees, filing in to start their day. One is the delicious Christopher Gorham. I like skinny tall guys, and I like to spell things out. My feelings on Christopher? Y-U-M. In his trench coat, he cuts a nice figure. He swipes his laminated badge and punches a code into a keypad to enter a war room of sorts, which is noisy and bustling. He strides up to a man with a headset and asks, "What are we looking at?" Headset guy says grimly, "It doesn't look good." Beat. "It's been frozen since I booted up this morning and the floppy drive is jammed." Hee. Our hero is an IT guy. I have always loved IT guys. I love smart nerds. Smart nerds that are hot get fifty points. Our hero does not say, "MOVE!", but rather "scoot over." He gets to work on the problem, then says he'll have it fixed in two minutes. Mmm, I love efficiency. But take your time, my dear. Headset Guy echoes my sentiment when he says he's due for a coffee break, and takes off. This gives our hero a chance to drink in his surroundings. There's a guy dictating missiles intercept orders to NORAD over there, a woman adding elements to an FBI watch list over here, night vision footage of what looks like the White House, and then a guy stands up and makes an announcement about the CIA's most wanted terrorist list. Jake can't help himself from blurting out, "This is so freaking cool." The man that made the announcement is all, you are? Jake Foley, IT nerd, just getting off on the super-spy element of his nerdlinger job. And, uh, he didn't hear anything too super-secret. And the job he was called in to do is now done. The man is all, great. Now please leave, Jake Foley. Jake gets his stuff together, but thoughtfully leaves behind a little spray can of air, "just in case." The Man is all, thanks. The door is that way. Jake leaves, a little crushed, but still buzzed from his dose of the spy stuff.
Jake and his annoyingly perky-yet-unambitious best friend Darren hang in a noisy bar. Darren is all, remember what I told ya, man! Chicks dig it! Jake is less than thrilled with the idea of using his security laminate to pick up chicks. Darren is all, no way! We're like spies, but better! He says that since they aren't "PROPS," or property of the state entrusted with government secrets, they can "quit any time and start a band, or open up a restaurant." Wow, a slacker IT guy? Most of the IT guys I know are working their asses off and looking forward to being that dirty old man in a Porsche with a chick a third their age. Of course Darren is a slacker; he's sporting facial hair and wearing a Buddha t-shirt, a flannel, and a vintage leather jacket. Let me guess the footwear: Chuck Taylors or Docs? I'm surprised he isn't whistling a Nirvana song and wearing a stocking cap. Darren orders two tequila shots, and Jake toasts him with "you're the only guy I know whose life ambition is to keep his options open." They drink their shots and wince. Gah, tequila. Darren says he "hate[s] tequila." Of course he's a masochist. He's Grunge Slacker. Grunge Slacker spots some prey (a.k.a. hot chicks), and encourages Our Hero Jake to whip it out. His laminate, I mean. Why? "Chicks. Dig. Spies." Jake echoes his delivery and says, "But they don't. Dig. Geeks." On the contrary, my dear nerdlinger. I loves me some geek. In fact, if you aren't smart, you don't get any from me. Dumbasses are shit out of luck.
The ladies are hit on. One asks sarcastically, "You guys work for the NSA? That's so sexy. Do you have a license to kill?" Grunge Slacker says, "Only if you are really bad." The women turn away, of course. Jake excuses himself to go home, and Grunge Slacker calls out after him, "Leave the door open? I don't have a key!" Grunge. Slacker. Don't have a key.
Jake weaves through the crowd, and a demure, pretty blonde calls out, "Hey, stranger!" Our Hero's face lights up. "Sarah!" Sarah is his college crush, and seems a little too manicured and blown-out for our scruffy IT nerd. He gushes that he read in their alumni magazine that she's working for a senator now. Yup; she's reviewing the defense budgets. Some of them were under, and she wants to find out where the extra money went. Jake is glowing like a fucking Christmas tree. "You don't trust the government?" She deadpans, "I don't trust my therapist, Jake." Ooh, our frosty blonde just got a little more interesting. She points out his laminate and asks if that's his ploy to get chicks. He nearly strangles himself getting it off, then totally fumbles his attempt to ask her out; a slick dude in a suit gets Sarah's attention before he can finish his sentence. She sighs and asks if he wants to join the uptight bores. Jake does not. But he gets his hopes up when she calls out, "What are you doing Saturday afternoon?" Jake is free, baby. She scribble her phone number on a match book and asks if he can come over and look at her computer. "Something's not right."
We have an office cubicle, different from all the other sterile office cubicles it's surrounded by: A) it's covered with punk rock posters, and B) it contains Our Hero and Grunge Slacker. I have to take a moment to talk about punk rock. I love punk rock. And seeing these cultural artifacts made my heart leap up in my chest, even though I know that UPN generally blows goats. I know it's not a shout-out, but the Turbonegro sticker? Sure felt like a shout-out. I've seen Turbonegro twice, and as I write this recap on Monday, September 15th, I'm counting the hours until I see them for the third time. Everyone should own their record Apocalypse Dudes, it's just perfect. Other bands are represented in Jake and Grunge Slacker's cube -- The Minus 5, Division of Laura Lee, I think there's a Cure photo on there, maybe the D4, and the giant Epitaph poster. I hope those posters rotate, or they go to shows with hot bands. Grunge Slacker reads a magazine (Carbon 14, maybe? Or Big Takeover?) while Jake studies the matchbook with Sarah's number. Grunge Slacker says he knows Jake doesn't smoke, so what gives. Jake tells him about Saturday's afternoon geek delight. "It's a service call." Grunge Slacker has a better attitude about the rendezvous with Georgetown Sarah, a.k.a. longtime crush Sarah, a.k.a. the one Jake may get to be with later on in the season, if he services her right. "Define service!" Then he suggests that Jake try to work a little mojo. "If you show up like a tech, then that's all she's gonna see." A manager-type shows up and is all, sorry to interrupt, ladies, we got a call, let's GOOO.
Jake and the manager enter a concrete room filled with rats in cages. The lighting is eerily orange, and the music gets a little spacey. Manager says that not a lot of people have been into that room, so Jake should consider himself lucky. Jake has a little Heidi moment, smiling at all the lab rats like he's greeting friends at a birthday party. He takes a moment to look at one rat run really, really fast on its treadmill. I think that rat isn't in Kansas anymore, if you get my meaning. Manager calls Jake away from his reverie with the rat and gets him to work at the computer. "What are we looking at here?" Manager is clueless. A lab tech in a white coat comes in and looks at the two IT nerds slaving away. Manager says, "Hey, did you know you were off-line? We'll have you back up in two minutes." Jake is all, "This is weird...all the information is being uploaded..." Then the manager is shot in the back. Jake nearly wets himself, wheels around, and puts his hands up. "Oh god, oh god!" Lab Tech advances on him with his gun drawn, and tells Jake to put in a command so that no one from IT ever comes up to the lab again. Jake, his face contorted into a mask of sadness, complies. When he's done, Lab Tech aims the gun at him and says, "Nothing personal." But security busts in and shoots the Lab Tech, saving Jake. They ask him if he's okay, and he is, except for one little thing -- a cut on his arm. Shards of broken glass from a rat cage sliced his forearm. And what's that stuff that looks like mercury running into his skin? That can't be good.
The lab is now a sealed crime scene. The now-dead Manager is led out on a stretcher. Guys in body suits collect evidence. A Thora Birchian scientist checks Jake's blood pressure and finds it normal. He is somewhere else, though. Seeing two people get killed, and almost getting killed yourself, can be a bit of a distraction. Dr. Thora asks if Jake wants anything -- water, Valium, herself on a plate -- and Jake smiles and says he's fine. Dr. Thora does not smile and say, I know.
The agent in charge of the investigation asks if Dr. Thora knew anything about the Lab Tech guy. "He was a jerk. He thought equal opportunity was something you put in your coffee." Equal is something you put in your coffee -- Sweet 'n' Quota is what jerks like to complain about. Agent In Charge tells Dr. Thora she wants to talk to Jake, now.
Jake sits in Agent's office, legs crossed and hands folded. Apparently he sent out some sort of a distress call and saved himself. He downplays his fast action, and says, "I was just doing what any good employee would do. I'm a go-getter." He hits the second syllable though, and it sounds funny. "Go-GET-ter." Agent notes that Jake applied to intelligence training twice, and says she wants to take this opportunity to...Jake lights up. But it isn't a big promotion. She just wants to reiterate the terms of his confidentiality agreement. Under no circumstances is he to say anything to anyone about what happened today. Ever. Ev. Er. Jake hides his disappointment by cracking a joke. "Or you'll have to kill me?" Agent's face is plain. Yes, dorkus. Blab and you're dead. It's murder-in-the-government secret-secret stuff, not who-ate-Joey's-sandwich-on-Friends stuff. Jake gulps some air.
Jake's apartment is lit all dark and blue, with lots of horizontal shadows. The camera tilts crazily. Jake's forehead is wet with perspiration. Ooh, he's got more rock posters. He calls out for Grunge Slacker, but GS isn't around. Jake stumbles into his bedroom (with more rock posters -- Rancid, even!) and collapses onto the bed, shaking and shivering. The screen burns out into blinding white.
The digital clock says 1:09 PM. Some gangsta rap blares, and Jake wakes up. He peels his bandage back and sees that his arm is completely healed. What the Spiderman? That is so Buffy the Vampire Slayer, too. Then he leaps out of bed, remembering his service appointment with Sarah.
Sarah opens the door. Jake, in a blue corduroy blazer, holds up a bottle and says, "I hope you like vino!" She says, um, of course. Her Georgetown apartment is fabulous, and he says so. She says it's rumored that Bill and Monica had some trysts there. Or Bill and whoever else. I'd be more excited about a JFK affair, but god knows those women knew how to keep their mouths shut and thus the trail is long cold. Remember when people used to keep their affairs private? Me neither. She didn't buy the Bill-and-Monica-slept-there thing at first, but now she thinks it "has that vibe." Jake, trying a little too hard, nods fast and says, "I feeeel it!" So, yeah, there's the computer. Jake sits in front of it. Sarah asks if he wants her to open the bottle of wine. He says, way too cheerfully, "Yeah, let's pop it!" She leaves without a word, and he beats himself up for being such an idiot. "'Let's pop it'...idiot." Yeah, well. You are an IT guy.
The Ersatz War Room. Agent and The Man do some voice recognition software business, and find that the man that led Jake into the lab was a wanted agent for the Irish Republican Army. He was on the research staff behind a guided missile program. Agent argues with The Man that he can't go after them now, after his cover has been blown, and hey, hey, hey, she'll use her agents as she sees fit! The Man is piqued, but Agent stands firm. No going after the IRA guys for you, Man.
Back in Sarah's apartment, Jake takes a glass of wine and looks at her family photographs. Her dad was in Desert Storm, but not technically. Jake says, "That's really cool!" Not really. He went over to test something, and never came home. "The worst part is they won't even tell us what happened, they just say it's classified. It just makes me feel so helpless...I'm sorry, you come to help me and I dump all this baggage on you." Jake wants her to dump on him. Well, not like that. He remembers when they were at Georgetown, and how he used to help her all the time...well, he liked helping her. And maybe she never knew this before, but...her phone is ringing. She answers it and wanders into the other room to chat. Jake focuses on the task at hand, and his point of view takes him inside her computer, zooming down into the contacts and wires like an X-wing fighter on the Death Star.
Jake is unnerved, but moves to pick up a push-pin. He focuses on the tip of the pin, which looks as big as a pencil, then uses it to adjust one tiny contact on the motherboard. Sarah's computer starts up again, and she comes out, all, hey, you fixed it! Yeah. But he doesn't really know how he did. Those computer close-ups were so odd; I think they were digitally enhanced. Wouldn't it be funny if they were old-school miniature, though? Jake stares at the computer screen. Sarah's desktop is awfully clean. She has a folder for recipes, though, and a grocery list -- looks like fixings for a blueberry cream pie or something. Sarah notices that Jake looks a little peaked. He gets his coat on and leaves with a quickness.
Walking home though the park, Jake hears machine gun fire and ducks behind a bench. No one around him even flinches. Ooh, super-hearing. Then a football hits him in the chest, and when a kid calls out for him to toss it back, Jake does -- but the kid is rammed into a tree with the force of Jake's toss. We have super-strength! Now, make love to me, Jake. We'll see how super you really are.
Jake walks on, then stops to stare at an ad on the side of a bus. The ad has a white lab rat on a treadmill, which makes me flash back to the shoot-out in the lab the other day. Pssst -- hey, Jake. You've been infected with something. Something super. My something-sense is tingling. When the bus pulls away, we see two men in a car taking photos of Jake. The guy with the camera says (with a hint of an Irish brogue), "That guy's got some arrrm."
Jake sneaks back into the NSA and tries to get into the lab where everything went down. His ID card doesn't allow him access, so he holds his hands over the keypad and voila, as if by magic, millions of numbers flash by until the correct code opens the door for him.
He sits down at the computer and begins to download information to a tiny zip drive. His super-hearing, which apparently is selective enough to allow him to hear conversations that are beneficial to advancing the plot, kicks in again. Dr. Thora talks to a woman in the hall about how some of the lab rats got out, but it's no big deal. And gunfire, ha ha! Are you kidding? Oh nooo. Jake grabs his zip drive and gets the hell out of there, but runs into Dr. Thora on the elevator. He says he was just following up to make sure their server was still running, and he has to go, bye! She notices his arm is healed. He laughs it off, saying he has a super-powered immune system. Well, bye!
Back at his apartment, Jake draws the blinds, cracks open a beer, and starts up the zip drive. He begins absorbing the information on "nano-technology," which allows "micro-vision," "enhanced hearing," and "increased strength." Check, check, and check. Gunfire, hallway conversations, football, and the computer thing. What about his lovemaking abilities? Don't those scientists ever think below the waist? Do I have to do everything myself? Jake stares at an image of a cute little computer-chip tribble-y thing swimming and inserting itself into a cell. Then he flashes back to the shoot-out in the lab, and visualizes that happening when his arm was cut by the flying glass. Then the beer bottle in his hand shatters, and for no logical reason at all, his chair goes flying backwards and send him across the apartment to his bed. Jake comically says, "Whoa-oa-oa!" He lies in a lump on the floor. It's very undignified, but he's still so adorable. Stay there, Jake. I just need to take off my earrings and necklace. Just kidding. And hey, there's a Pennywise and Turbonegro poster by his bed. I bought a sailor hat at the Turbonegro show -- probably an unwise purchase, but I'll wear it sometime. Maybe even out of the house.
Back at the lab, Dr. Thora watches the surveillance footage of Jake getting sprayed with glass and says, "Oh no." Right there with you, Dr. Thora.
Jake, finally beginning to grasp his super-human powers, surveys a pipe near the ceiling and decides to swing on it. He gets ready to jump, and a funny little "mee mee mee mee mee" sound pings. Very Six Million Dollar Woman, or Wonder Woman even. I love the noises. He jumps so high that he bumps his head on the ceiling and breaks the plaster. Hey, there's more rock posters! This show is so cool. Jake hops up and grabs the pipe, then does some pull-ups with glee. The tiniest sliver of his abdomen shows when his shirt rides up, oh my. Then, one-armed pull-ups. He's grinning hugely, until the pipe breaks and he falls on the coffee table, smashing it to bits. Grunge Slacker walks in, surveys the scene, and says he hopes "there was some really rough sex going on in here." Grunge Slacker, get out of my head. Jake begins to tell him what's going on, but then the woman from the bar walks in and says she didn't picture spies living like "really poor college students." Grunge Slacker asks Jake if he doesn't have "ops" to get to, and leads the woman into the "debriefing room." Oy.
The Man and Agent talk. He knows the Irish Thug is in the country, probably in D.C. We know this, too. Dr. Thora bursts in and says, "We got a problem." We know this, too, but Jake being infected with nanites is kind of awesome for us.
Jake bursts into Sarah's apartment to tell her what's happening to him, but there's some jagoff in a sweater cooking dinner for her. Jake says it can wait until later, and jagoff is all, "Nice meeting you, Jack." It's Jake, you tool.
Irish Thug is in the elevator; he and Jake ride down together. He holds the door for Jake and says he's "really good at pushing buttons." Jake is silent. Irish Thug says his sense of humor doesn't translate here. "Back in Ireland, they'd be dying now." Oy, get it? 'Cause he's a terrorist working for the IRA? Oh, my sides. Ha ha, kaboom, oh, I slapped my knee too hard. They walk off, and Irish Thug says Jake's name. Jake is all, whuh? Snuh? Irish Thug says he has "an interest" in "what's inside" him, a.k.a. nanites, and "don't worry," since he'd never hurt Jake. But his associate might. Jake picks up the Irish Thug and throws him across the lobby into the bigger thug. Jake runs out of the building, and gets tasered and tossed in the back of a van. Oh no!
Oh, yes. But here's the good news -- it was our government that kidnapped him. Jake lies on an MRI table, and Dr. Thora explains to Agent and The Man that the nanites are bonding to his system, but soon will be under Jake's control. The Man says Irish Thug is after "some kind of future soldier." I guess. Just say "Spiderman," okay? If you say it three times, Stan Lee will come after your ass and whomp you good, so just say it once. This show is so Spidermanian, I can't even stand it. But it's still awesome. Agent explains that the nanites were originally developed by the Department of Defense to help soldiers in combat heal faster. Wouldn't cloning cannon fodder be more efficient? Our government doesn't seem to be fond of renewable resources in general, so why would they want shot guys to heal up fast? Dr. Thora gets really excited when she describes the possibilities; Jake can "interface with technology, he's like a universal remote." Wow, way to dumb it down. But that's the level I'm working on, so thanks, Dr. Thora. Please compare him to TiVo, so I can really understand how awesome Jake is now. She gets a little flushed when she explains that "every single one of his body functions is enhanced." Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talking about. Agent is all, "Meaning what?" Meaning he's a love machine, baby. A loooove machine. Sorry, I'm newly single and my mind is so completely in the gutter. Men are objects to me. Even geeky men. No one is safe. Jake hollers out that he "can hear EVERYTHING!" Whoops. I'll be good.
Out of the machine, Jake asks Dr. Thora how he can get these nanites out of him. He's smiling and his tone is light, but the news isn't good. Um, honey, you can't. It would mean the end of the series. And we've only just begun, see. He smiles and asks if he'll be okay. These nanites won't hurt him or anything, right? Dr. Thora says, "There are side effects." Like, um, muscle spasms, blindness, and in case of rejection, "not good." Jake asks what's going to happen to him. Dr. Thora says, "Honestly? I don't know." Ooh, that's never good. There's a tight close-up on Jake's face, which now looks anxious and creased. Poor dear.
Jake waits in a room. The light is super-blown-out, so white it's blinding. Agent and The Man stride towards him, and he picks up on their conversation. The gist is, Agent wants to monitor Jake and turn him into a lab rat, therefore making the horrible accident a useful way to gather scientific data on this sketchy nanite experiment. The Man seems to have a little more sensitivity. "This guy risked his life and you want to turn him into a lab rat?" Hey, I want to turn him into a member of my personal harem, what does that make me, a monster? Grrr. Arrgh. Jake bolts for the door. Of course, it's locked. The light is still super-white and blown-out. He slams against the steel door ineffectually, then sees the sprinkler system and gets an idea. Jake -- a non-smoker, as we learned early in the episode -- takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets the sprinkler off. Everyone evacuates the building, and Jake manages to sneak out and evade Agent.
Jake's in a cab, fleeing to the airport. The cabbie commends him on his cojones for flying internationally, what with the National Guard there and everything. Jake's phone rings; it's Sarah. Can he talk? It's important, and she has no one else to talk to. We don't get a shot of the cab stopping with a screech of brakes, but that's what happens.
Jake and Sarah meet in a coffee shop. She starts off all, remember when I told you about the budget discrepancies in the D.O.D. stuff? Okay, even I know you shouldn't be talking about that shit in a coffee shop. Sarah has found that funds have been diverted to the N.S.A., and by the way, did he know that the lobby in her building was completely trashed after he left her place on Saturday? She feels like she's being watched. Mee mee mee mee mee! Jake hears people setting surveillance on them right now. Jake urges Sarah to leave the coffee shop and get back to her office right away. She's panicked and flustered, and bolts. On the sidewalk, she bumps right into Irish Thug. Oh, boy.
Jake runs out the back, and rips a bike off a pole (take that, bike chain! You and the bike are no match for Jake's nanite-fueled bod!) to escape from the truck bearing down on him. There's an awesome bike/truck chase scene. It's so totally feasible that a bike could outrun any vehicle on a city street, and Jake has super-fast peddlin' action going on. Mee mee mee mee mee! He's somehow trained his nanites to make all the traffic lights turn green when he gets to them, and then red when the truck screams up behind him. Screee! Honk honk honk. Jake is elated to have escaped the truck, but then has another "comic" "moment" when he has to jump over a big pile of gravel. We have another "whoa-oa-oa!" from him, then triumph. He did it! Him and his nanites. His phone rings, and it's Sarah. Or so he thinks. It's actually Irish Thug, telling him to show up at the cryogenics lab tonight at midnight or Sarah is dead. Oh, no!
Oh, yes. It's midnight at the lab. Jake stealthily approaches the building, and his phone rings. He very ungracefully dances around trying to answer it subtly, then ducks behind a tree. "Hello?" Hello, geek speaking! It's Grunge Slacker, crying that the hot chick from the bar dumped him since it's too dangerous to date a spy. Jake does not say "duh," but rather, "Dude. You're not a spy." He's totally a dude, though. Then the Man breaks in, via satellite. The Man wants to bring Jake in, or send a team out to help him. Jake says that the Irish Thug has Sarah and wants to trade, him for her. Jake has to do it. Quick like a bunny, The Man changes his tune. Using all the fun toys the Ersatz War Room has to offer, The Man finds the heat sensor movements of three people, and directs Jake to the best and closest stairway to get in and bust Sarah out of there. Jake is all, thanks, bye.
Jake goes up the stairs and uses his super-strength to get the door open. He sees Sarah tied up and passed out in the lab. Then someone starts firing at Jake with a machine gun. Jake eludes the spray of bullets by leaping into the air, much like Wonder Woman used to leap over walls. His eyes focus in night vision, and he takes off running down a hallway. The thug follows him, but knocks himself out on a pipe he can't see with his regular, non-nanite-enhanced eyes. Jake hears the clang-oooh! and smiles. Nanites are super!
Jake, now freed of thug pursuit, stands in front of Sarah. He tries to get her to come to, but then, click. Irish Thug aims a gun at him. "$55 billion in research and development and all they end up with is you." Jake sees a tank of liquid nitrogen behind Irish Thug, and asks what he intends to do. Irish Thug says nothing fancy, just a bullet in his brain. "Fortunately, Jake, you've decreased your life to the size of a carrying case." Jake uses his nanites to activate something on a panel -- I guess he's going to blow up the nitrogen and make a Shamrock Shake out of Irish Thug. The pressure in the tank builds as Jake rambles on about how he has great vision ("I can see to Texas!") and can interface with computers wirelessly, stalling for time, until a pipe blows and freezes Irish Thug in an instant. Then the troops roll in, too late to help, and tell him that Sarah is going to be fine.
NSA. Agent's office. And can I just say how cool it is to have an African-American woman as the boss of this shit? I don't think that ever happened, even on The X-Files. ["I guess you aren't counting Law & Order: Original Flavor." -- Sars] She offers him coffee or orange juice, and he's all, lady? I got these nanites all up in me, and it's weird and I'm freaking out. Agent and The Man watch him vent, amused. "I spent the last couple days running for my life, so no, I don't want a cup of coffee. I want my life back." Agent says she can offer him higher security clearance, and that she's just been authorized to create a special ops team with him at the center. He protests, "Hey, I didn't ask for this." She says, "Yes you did. Twice." The Man says, "This is a big opportunity, don't waste it." A smile spreads slowly across Jake's face. Jake, honey, you're a real spy now.
Ding-dong. Sarah's apartment. Jake smiles, "Hi!" He brought her a wireless mouse. Aww. A geek bearing gifts. Then, urgh, the Dave Matthews Band starts up -- that "Superman" song. Perhaps the only thing farther from Turbonegro is DMB. Well, maybe John Mayer. Have you noticed that our level of tolerance for awful music is growing by leaps and bounds? My point is, I used to think DMB were pretty awful; then John Meyer came out and DMB sounds like Mozart in comparison. Jake apologizes to Sarah for all the kidnapping and stuff, and she says she shouldn't have been poking around in those D.O.D. budgets, anyway. There's probably something in there that she wasn't supposed to know! Wow, she's so brainy in hindsight. Jake urges her not to be a hero, and she says that "there are no heroes, anymore." Jake looks at her, smiles, then says simply that he's there for her if she needs him. Then he walks down the sidewalk, watches the crossing signal change from don't walk to walk, and we zoom up back from street level to a satellite circling the planet. Some POV.