John Doe HQ. Ah, life above The Sea, while living in Seacouver -- could anything be more idyllic? Sappy "I'm searching for myself" music plays as John folds a t-shirt. Karen comes in, notices he's packing a bag, and says, "Hey boss man, taking a vacation?" From what? The fact that he has no job? Or that he's ridiculously rich? Yeah, the pressure of being rich, handsome, and intelligent must really be getting to John Doe. Bah. Any. Way. He puts the t-shirt in his bag, and then he responds to Karen: "I don't know." She steps into the room. "You know, um, airplanes, claustrophobia -- not a good mix. You worried about freaking out a little." She sits on the bed. He sits on the bed. I would like to take a nap on that bed. Karen says, "So you really don't know where you're going to go?" John replies, "I might just throw a dart…" He looks poignantly off into space. "See where it takes me." Wait for the factoid: "1,710 steps to the top of the Eiffel Tower. I think I'll go climb them." Okay. John doesn't know his identity, which would mean he has no identification, which would mean he has no passport. How the heck can he get on a plane to Paris without any identification? Does he have a driver's license (well, he must, because he drives his Doemobile around all the time), passport, and health card stating that his name is John Doe and his birthday is TBD? Honestly? A little continuity here, people. At least make me work for the ridicule. Karen smiles at the whimsy of climbing all 1,710 steps of the Eiffel Tower. Oh, the true reason for John's trip: he wants to see what "something real" feels like for a change. Something that is more "real" to him than solving crimes and trying to figure out his identity. What on earth does he mean by that? Oh, right -- it's a set-up. Karen opens up her bag and gives him a going-away present. John opens it to find a Magic 8-Ball. Karen: "You want answers? You got answers. Give it a whirl." He smiles patiently and jiggles the ball. He asks, "Is badminton my favourite sport?" The ball replies, "Don't count on it." John smiles and thanks Karen for the gift. Karen says, "Don't be gone too long, okay? I mean, I know you're looking for home, but maybe it's right here?" He half-smiles and contemplates his half-packed bag for a moment. Fade out to a pan across Seacouver at dusk.
The Airplane. A stewardess shuts the door and then locks the big red handle into place. I guess whatever magical identification John owns was enough to get him on board. John grips a seat and starts to pant. Happy travelers find their seats. John gets pushed aside by said happy travelers as they make their way down the airplane. The stewardess notices John's distress. She asks if everything is all right. He replies, "Claustrophobia." She says, "I'm sure it'll pass, now if you can take your seat, sir." John whines, "Maybe travel isn't such a good idea after all." Then, instead of taking his seat like she asks, he blathers on about the wingspan, length, and other inane facts about the airplane. The stewardess looks inquisitive. She sure is patient; I couldn't sit there with a vehicle full of whiny people all wanting something and wait quietly while some egghead rambles on about the wingspan. John replies, "Mental exercise I do to get my mind off my problems." The stewardess quips, "It's not working so well, is it?" Another passenger interrupts John and the stewardess asking for water so he can take his airsickness pills. Apparently, he's an aeronautical engineer, and there's some irony in the fact that he can't convince himself the plane won't just fall out of the air. The stewardess asks the fellow passenger to find his seat, and she'll get him some water. This gives her a good opportunity to leave John behind, mumbling about fuel capacity and wondering if he should take some medication to help calm down.
Then some Russian weightlifters come down the row. One of them picks up John and gives him Russian kisses as he says a Russian hello. Their coach explains that they've just won the World Weight-Lifting Championship. Ah, no intercontinental flight would be complete without Russian weightlifters, now would it? John starts speaking Russian, and makes the coach happy when he identifies the World Champion as Pavel Kovarik. The two converse in Russian for a bit, make a joke about John's lack of "air" legs, and then the coach invites Doe to come back for a drink after takeoff. Then Pavel's daughter comes barreling down the aisle and slams right into Doe's midsection. Ouch. She totally hit him where men in closed spaces should not be hit. He falls to the ground, makes the Russians laugh heartily, and then picks up the child's walkie-talkie that fell to the ground. As John tries to catch his breath, a snotty English man says, "Can we move it along please?" Doe gets up, and the guy continues, "Yes. There we go." We must be in first class, because there's a supermodel on the flight sitting with her photographer. A stewardess compliments the woman on her "spread in Vogue." The model attributes her beauty to "Dave" because "he takes the pictures."
Finally, John is in his seat. Gabrielle Anwar types furiously away on a laptop, trying to get in touch with her agent to resurrect her obviously waning career. She's cut her hair since her guest spot on The Practice. Now, it's cut into a short bob that sits just below her ears. John has not relaxed. He's still blathering on about plane statistics. Gabrielle quips, "Oh. I didn't realize my seat came with a tour guide." John apologizes, and then he explains that his claustrophobia has just kicked in. Gabrielle asks politely, "First time on a plane?" John: "Yes, no, hard to say? Taking a vacation. Thought I'd try London." She tries to concentrate on her computer. He concentrates on proving that he is a computer. "1666 -- in the Great Fire of London half the city burned down with only six injuries." Gabrielle snits, "Really? I could have sworn it was seven." When John turns to explain that it was six, he notices that she's smirking at him; then he finally gets it and actually manages to shut up for a second, and it's a blissful second, if you ask me. Gabrielle's computer starts beeping, and then she whines, "Oh, come on, not again." But that's not before we get a glimpse of the screen, which says, "Machado-Joseph Disease. 0 Files Found." Damn those computers and their wily ways of erasing all of your files in a pretty little landing page of a screen. Yawn. I love it when television shows focus on computer screens. They never look even remotely realistic. At least it's not the blue screen of death. John says, "What?" Gabrielle says, "My speech is gone! Everything that I've done for the last two years has been leading up to this." Well, she should have backed the damn files up, then. She continues, "I'm giving a keynote address at an international conference tomorrow and if I lose it --" John says, "Maybe I can try and retrieve it?" She looks hesitant for a second and then hands over her laptop. He checks through the memory "sectors" and then whoosh! Her speech pops back up onscreen. She says, "That's it! How will I ever thank you?" He replies, "Machado-Joseph Disease. You're a doctor." Not just any doctor -- she's a neurologist who specializes in being big-brained and knowing all kinds of stuff. I wonder if she's met Andy from Everwood. I like Dr. Brown. I wish he were my doctor. Right, wrong show.
John hands back her laptop, and they talk about her specialty. He uses lots of medical terminology. She looks a bit confused and a bit impressed. The stewardess comes over the intercom, telling everyone to "pay close attention to the safety procedures as they prepare for takeoff." John closes his eyes and tries to take some deep breaths to calm down -- paying no attention whatsoever to the safety precautions. The stewardess continues, "Please stow all electronic devices at this time." Blah fasten seat belts blah. Gabrielle turns to John and says, "I might be able to help you relax." Then she grabs his hand and starts manipulating his pressure points. She couches it in medical terminology, but it's really fancy flirting. John's hooked, though, even if he tries to hide his own flirtation behind an explanation of said acupressure. Okay, we get it: only really big brains talk about endorphins and, well, try to make it sexy. I guess this is how the people at Mensa conferences get down and dirty. She pulls on his thumb as the plane takes off, and this seems to calm him down. Before he slips off into an endorphin-induced sleep, he says, "By the way, my name's John." Gabrielle introduces herself as "Rachel."
The plane flies through the clouds. Inside, John's still asleep when Rachel wakes him up for dinner. He opens up his eyes and says, "I was out cold. Never thought I'd get to sleep." The stewardess brings around a couple glasses of what looks like champagne, which neither John nor Rachel actually ordered, and that no one else is drinking because the pair in front of them have red wine. The Gods of Contrivance squeal in delight when John toasts to an "uneventful flight." As they take a sip of their sparkling wine, a very pale reverend comes stumbling up from business class. He gasps for breath, lurches onto a stewardess, and then crashes to the floor, bringing the poor woman with him. John jumps up to investigate. The annoying British man from earlier comes forward, telling everyone else to "step away." Everyone in first class tries to see what's going on. Hey, isn't Rachel a doctor? Shouldn't she be helping the man? John grabs a flashlight attached to the wall of the cabin and peers into the reverend's eyes. Annoying Brit says, "He's dead. It appears he suffered from a massive stroke." John unbuttons his collar and opens the man's shirt. He says, "This was no stroke! He was murdered." Dun. Dun. Dun. And welcome to the real reason John's on a plane this evening: he's there to solve a murder!
Roll credits.
Well, the reverend's still dead. Annoying Brit says, "Step back, everyone!" John opens up his wallet and identifies the dead man as Reverend Donald Pearson. He asks, "Does anyone know this man?" A young woman in a purple sweater says, "He just jumped up, all of a sudden, staggered out of his seat, and looked at me like an animal." Annoying Brit tells everyone for the hundredth time to get back to his/her seats. He snaps, "Everyone back! And close the curtains. Let's see if we can keep this somewhat contained." The stewardess hangs up the phone and says, "All of you please take your seats. The captain has radioed ahead to Heathrow for an emergency landing but we still have two hours of ocean to cross before then." Annoying Brit whips out his identification and starts flashing around his badge: "I'm a detective. Scotland Yard. I'll be taking charge of this crime scene." The stewardess just looks at him. Annoying Brit steps over to John and grabs the wallet right out of his hands. "Satisfied with your hysterical pronouncement? You just terrified two cabins over what's likely nothing more than an allergic reaction." Make that Annoyingly Snotty/Pickle Up His Ass Brit. By this time, Rachel has realized she's supposed to be playing doctor, and bends over the body so she can inspect the dead reverend. John and Rachel discuss the dead guy in medical-speak. Apparently, he's been poisoned. Annoying Brit pockets the wallet and walks away from the body. Wow. The dead man looks really creepy when you see him through John Doe's black-and-white vision.
Scotland Yard zooms back through the plane, asking the stewardess where he was sitting. Annoying Brit asks the seatmate whether or not he saw the reverend eat or drink anything earlier. Okay, the casting agent must have up and plucked this guy from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan -- he sounds so utterly Canadian. I half-expect him to start talking about Canadian beer and loonies. For some reason, Canada Guy is nervous. Really sweaty-nervous. Nicolas Cage in Adaptation nervous. He stutters, "Um, no. He was telling me about this homeless shelter that he runs." Canada Guy breaks down. Annoying Brit tells him to "get a hold of himself." CG clutches his forehead and then responds, "That's it! We talked, he got tired; he turned out his light and went to sleep. thing I know he's this wild man." John asks, "No one came near him before he got up?" Annoying Brit looks around and says, "I want to talk to everyone on this plane." John: "Shouldn't we examine the body first?" Inspector Clueless says, "I beg your pardon?" John replies, "The victim went into immediate convulsions. If he didn't ingest the poison, he must have been injected with it." Inspector Clueless snots, "And we'll find that out when we land when the body's inspected by a professional." John argues that they might be able to discover how he was injected, which would help them narrow down suspects. Inspector Clueless snits, "Are you a homicide detective?" Um, a resounding chorus from the clouds hums, "No!" John tries to explain his connections with the Seacouver police force. Inspector Clueless doesn't buy his professional association and asks John to "step aside" so he can do his job. Of course, John knows some obscure international law that ensures the United States has jurisdiction over a crime scene if one of its citizens is on board the plane. Huh. So, that means that Inspector Clueless, by "doing his job," is actually breaking all kinds of laws. Now there's more irony, the police officer actually breaking the law, how fun -- yawn. Inspector Clueless balls up his fists, looks to the sky, and utters, "Foiled again!" Okay, maybe he doesn't. Rachel breaks up the dogfight by compromising: "Perhaps the inspector should talk to the passengers while we examine the body." Inspector Clueless gives Rachel a look. She smirks and says, "I'm a doctor." Inspector Clueless reluctantly agrees. John turns around and says, "Where are the weight-lifters?"
He needs another chance to show off his Russian, of course. The big, bulky men pick up the dead reverend and put him up on a drink cart. I'll never think about bottled water on a plane the same way again. Ew. Someone peers at the scene from behind a curtain, as if they're watching the effects of their "Evil" handiwork. Or it's just "Evil" floating around on the plane, annoyed that his holiday was interrupted by the good reverend's death. Or it's a ghost. Or it's the Angel of Death on loan from that awful show about angels who come to earth to help people accept the pain in their miserable little lives. Okay. I'm cut off; that's enough cynicism for one recap. As they cart the man off, Rachel turns to Doe: "Airplanes, computers, poisons, international law -- is there anything you don't know?" Blah man of mystery blah. He replies, "I've got a knack for facts." She calls his bluff: "And yet you don't seem to know if you've flown on an airplane before." Aw, he's blushing. Aw, she makes him nervous. Aw, he's mumbling. Aw, he's flirting: "I've got some gaps in my memory. Maybe I'm in need of a good neurologist." I take back the "aw" -- that line's definitely an "ew."
They investigate the body. The good reverend's undressed and covered in some sort of towel. They inspect his legs, and neither of them can find a needle mark anywhere on the body. Then John's got an idea; he asks the photographer for one of his lenses. Okay. The two of them are wearing medical gloves. Where would they come from? Do they keep a stash of sterile gloves on the airplane in case of medical emergency? Oh, wait, that doesn't actually sound too far-fetched. John looks closely at the skin on the back of the reverend's knee and finds a miniscule pressure mark with a white center. He smells the wound, and then he determines that the poison could be strychnine. Hum. The mark is so small, the killer didn't use a needle. John says, "Maybe an air gun, like they use in the military for inoculations." Rachel whines, "How do you use an air gun without being seen?" Oh, and why did they shoot him in the back of the knee? It's elementary, my dear girl, because Doe's just about to find out.
Doe and Rachel walk back to the reverend's seat; attached underneath is a hydraulic piston attached to a tube. John leans down and lifts up the seat. He says, "Piston armed the tube, just like a rifle." Rachel asks, "What made it fire?" Well, it was triggered by remote control. Then, of course, John fiddles with the piston too much and it shoots right into his now ungloved hand. He crumples over in pain, immediately feeling the poison. Silly Doe, pistons are for big kids!
They've gotten Doe into a seat. He complains about feeling short of breath. Rachel bends down and explains that the tube was almost empty; only the tiniest amount of poison could have entered his system. John writhes in pain. Okay, Dominic Purcell's incapable of that much emotion, so perhaps "mumbles" is a better word than "writhes." "My hands. My hands." He scrunches up his face. Inspector Clueless says that he should have worn gloves, something to protect himself. Um, yeah, like the medical gloves he had on only moments ago -- where the hell did they go? Rachel turns to the inspector and tells him to shut up; then she turns her attention back to Doe and tells him to keep taking big, deep breaths. Rachel's still got her gloves on. A stewardess brings an oxygen mask. Rachel ties a tube around his wrist and then jams the tube into his hand to, in Doe's words, "siphon and then eliminate the poison." Rachel tells him to shut up, and then she completes the procedure. He's all business. He may be dying of poison, but he's still thinking. That's our Doe, always thinking: "We have to find the transmitter that activated the injector." Inspector Clueless chimes in that the only way to do that would be to check through all the passengers' luggage. Blah snotty British uppity I-told-you-so kind of speech blah. John then suggests that it would be faster if they broke up into two groups, and the Russians offer to help. John takes some deep breaths and decides that his hand is definitely better.
Yet another exterior shot of the airplane flying high above the clouds. John and Rachel are now sitting back in first class, only not in their original seats. In the background, Pavel searches through luggage. John says, "I think you've just saved my life." Oh, come on. John's life is in danger during every single show. He doesn't give Frank the dopey eyes every time he busts Doe's ass out of danger. I'm telling you, love ruins every good show sooner or later. They flirt big-brain-style again. John tells some story about the indigenous peoples of Papua New Guinea while Rachel fiddles with his hand. He explains that "when a man's life is saved, he needs to learn everything he can about his saver so that he can provide his every want." Love is in the air, literally and metaphorically. How is this going to help John find out who he is? Oh, wait. I get it -- this is "real." Yeah, about as "real" as J.Lo. Or her relationship with the "bald" Ben Affleck. Well, blah freaking love blah. John wants to know everything about her. She wants to know who he is. He says that's the million-dollar question. Then he tells her he's got amnesia. As she finishes bandaging his hand, she says, "Surely your friends, your family, know about your life." He stares deeply into her eyes and replies, "They might." She pauses, then responds, "Good Lord! You don't even know?" Pause. "That must be so lonely." If Rachel could fall into those eyes, she would. Yawn. "John. Neurological pathology is my field." How conveeeenient. Yes. The Church Lady is on board, keeping Contrivance company. John stops her before she even starts. "Rachel. I don't want to be studied. I've been poked and probed and put under microscopes." She gets it -- he just wants to forget about forgetting. There it is again, that damn irony. I swear, after this episode, my friend Irony is totally going on strike; I'm going to make her so that the writers actually have to think up some original material. This episode is totally filler. It's the icing you use to even out your cake before you put the good stuff on. There's no love in this icing. It's purely to get fancy with the setting and get JD some loving. Yawn.
Now, in other matters: there are three stewardesses on board this plane, so far as I can tell. They all look alike. They've got short brown hair and are, of course, wearing the same uniforms, so when I say "the stewardess," it's not always the same stewardess, but I honestly can't tell them apart, and truly, who cares? So, the stewardess comes over to tell John and Rachel -- who I guess are now in charge of everything -- that the co-pilot went into the bathroom half an hour ago and has yet to come out. Could more foul play be afoot? Why yes, my dear kiddies, I do think so. John hops out of his seat and dives toward the washroom. He busts open the door to discover that the co-pilot is also dead! Water mixed with blood spills out all over the floor. Rachel, a medical doctor, screams, "Oh! My! God!" Inside the bathroom, someone stabbed the co-pilot in the jugular with a pen. There's blood everywhere. It's actually a pretty gruesome scene. John turns off the water and moves the man's elbow off the tap.
Inspector Clueless is pissed. He surveys the scene and snots, "This time we leave the victim exactly as he was found, unmolested by your amateur sleuthings." Pause. "From now on we do things my way. The proper way. Inform the captain." John, of course, doesn't listen to the inspector. As the stewardess bangs on the door to alert the captain, he rambles, "The first murder was so elaborate, planned -- the second murder, messy -- it doesn't make sense." John glances at Rachel. "Perhaps he saw something. The killer himself." Rachel chimes in, "The killer was in here doing something; the co-pilot discovered it!" John finishes her thought: "And took a ballpoint in the neck for it." The stewardess continues to bang on the door to get the captain's attention. The inspector bends down to look at the scene from the bottom up: "If you two are quite finished, I don't think he'll be recounting any of your scenarios." John replies, "Well, he's recounting one thing: the killer didn't stop at one victim, what makes you think he'll stop at two?" The stewardess turns around and says, "The door on the flight deck is locked and the captain's not answering!" Inspector Clueless slams the bathroom door shut and turns his attention to the other door. He yells something to the captain. There's no response. The stewardess thinks that the captain's been slaughtered too! She whisper-screams, "There's no one to fly!" Inspector Clueless hurtles himself toward the door, and then promptly bounces back like a tennis ball off a brick wall. She explains that the captain enters a code at the beginning of each flight, and without that code, the door won't open. Inspector Clueless wants to break the door down. The stewardess says that's impossible with the new steel reinforcements.
Immediately, the plane veers to the left. People scream. The plane starts to bounce around. The stewardess gets on the intercom and tells people to get back into their seats because of the "turbulence." Code for "I don't know what the hell's going on and there might be no one to fly the plane." Inspector Clueless wants to know how they're going to get into the cockpit. That's such a dirty word. Heh. John mumbles something about a diagnostics program. Inspector Clueless snits, "I'll just order one up then." Immediately, John remembers that there's an aeronautical engineer on board. As he runs through the body of the plane, the air masks pop down. People scream some more. John grabs the engineer's laptop and heads back towards the cockpit. Within seconds, he's unscrewing the top of the keypad and yammering on about the thunderstorms. The stewardess explains that the plane is probably on autopilot, which doesn't adjust for weather. The plane continues to jolt and careen through the air. More screaming. John runs the program, but can't seem to get the door open. He figures there must be a systems override. Rachel and Inspector Clueless stand by. Clueless makes snarky comments about Doe's ability to get the door open. Rachel wishes she'd kissed him when she had the chance. Okay. She didn't, but I guess the dead body in the bathroom sort of ruled out the "real" mile-high club for the two of them. What would have caused the short circuit? Water damage, of course! Blah plane's inner workings blah. Clueless screams, "Is there anyway to get below?" There's a rear access panel!
John runs as fast as he can, with the plane veering from one side to the other to the rear. Lights flicker on and off. Someone in coach yells, "Who's that guy?" Ha! Things crash all around them. John shoves another stewardess out of the way, grabs a flashlight, and pulls up the carpet, exposing the hatch. I guess adrenaline is helping with the claustrophobia right about now. He jumps down the hatch and opens a sliding door to reveal the underbelly of the plane. Wires are shorting out all over the place. A luggage compartment slides free and heads right for him. He jumps out of the way just in time and resets the lock. The plane throws him from left to right. After securing the compartment, he stumbles over to the sparking wires. With the flashlight, he looks at the wires and says, "I need to connect the green with the green." I grow tired of the running Doe monologue. Blah too bad he's colour blind, blah he needs to pick the right one, blah it's a crapshoot, blah he connects them. But will it work? John rushes back upstairs and races back through coach, where someone else yells, "What's going on?" Heh. People moan. They cry. When John gets back, Inspector Clueless can open the door. Rachel says, "You did it, John!"
They head into the cockpit and discover that the pilot's unconscious from carbon monoxide poisoning. John explains how on earth the pilot could have gotten carbon monoxide poisoning in the first place -- the short also affected his air supply. The stewardess grabs the headset and tries to radio Heathrow for help. Rachel puts an oxygen mask on the pilot. Inspector Clueless shouts, "Will he be able to fly this plane?" Yes. But they'll need to get him oxygenated first. Rachel and the inspector grab the pilot and pull him out of the cockpit. John sees the aeronautical engineer, and asks him if he can fly the plane. The man responds by saying he's going to be sick. So, I guess not. John dives into the pilot's seat. Rachel stays in the cockpit, and doesn't attend to her patient. What-freaking-ever. John grabs the headset and tries to contact Heathrow again. Heathrow replies, but their coordinates are cut off by the choppy weather. The plane rolls from left to right and back again. People scream. Rachel yells, "Do something, John!" The stewardess cries, "Oh my god we're going to die!" Instruments whirl and make a lot of really problematic noises. John grabs the stick that controls the plane and tries to get it under control. The last shot before commercials is of the plane heading straight down -- the worst possible direction.
John tries to get the plane under control. Okay, now Inspector Clueless is in the cockpit along with Rachel and the stewardess. No one is looking after the pilot. There's no future at this moment, only the present. Of course, the instruments aren't working, and he can't see the horizon. He screams for a bottle of scotch. The Inspector makes some crack about all of them needing a drink. No, silly, he needs the bottle to improvise an instrument to tell him where the horizon actually is. The airplane banks a hard left. Then a hard right. It's a tense moment, but John manages to get the airplane back on the proper horizon and up over the storm. He turns the autopilot back on, and the plane settles down into a normal rhythm.
After everything calms down, John and Rachel remain in the cockpit. Still, no one's looking after the damn pilot, but whatever -- love is in the air, and who am I to stop it? Rachel says, "Strawberry rhubarb pie." Huh? When John mentioned that she could have everything, she decided now that she wants strawberry rhubarb pie. They bond. Rachel tells John about her parents, about how her dad used to grow rhubarb in their tiny garden, about how her mother was the sweet in the pie, her father the sour, and about how she's an orphan now. Honestly, it's awful dialogue, embarrassingly bad -- blah she can share her stories and he can't -- but if this isn't real, I don't know what is. Wait! This isn't real! They're in a plane with two dead bodies, an unconscious pilot, and no answers to any of the mysteries in sight, and they still find the time to fall in love. Ain't that grand? Then, after she tells him that her parents are dead, he says he'll bake her the pie. She replies, "You're telling me you can fly an airplane and cook?" He chuckles. "You don't know the half of it." She gets the feeling she doesn't know any of it. Pavel pops his head into the cockpit and quips, "You two make beautiful babies." They blush. He continues, "If we get out of here alive. Come on!"
The inspector is with the pilot, who seems to be doing better. When John walks up, Inspector Clueless says, "Good job." John nods. Then he insists that the killer is still on board, and asks if they can go and look at the co-pilot's body again. The Inspector reluctantly agrees. John Doe-alogue: "What did you catch the killer doing?" John opens a compartment in the tiny bathroom and discovers the transmitter. Inspector Clueless says, "You think the killer activated his little killer air gun from here?" John looks pensive. He's very good at looking pensive. No, the signal couldn't reach that far through the wall. He just hid it afterwards. Inspector Clueless shows he's not entirely useless by postulating that the co-pilot discovered the killer trying to dispose of the box, and thought it was a bomb. Then he says, "All we can do is check it for prints when we land." See, there he goes, ruining any chance we had of thinking he's anything but useless. Clueless, you know Doe's got another idea, right? Right. John says they can test the range of the signal, and locate his seat. He's so smart!
The air gun is back on the reverend's seat, and Inspector Clueless screams, "Not working!" after each time John pushes the activation button. The gun goes off soon after, and the inspector smiles, "That's it!" John says that the killer couldn't have activated the gun from any further back then where he's standing. Inspector Clueless says once again that he wants everyone back in his or her seats. John steps in and asks the stewardess if the section was full, which it wasn't, meaning the killer could have slipped into one of the unassigned seats and set off the gun. John walks away from his antagonist and into first class, where Rachel is finally taking care of the pilot. She asks if they're making progress, and John says, "Not enough." Blah what an awful way to die, blah poison, blah events, blah dee boring blah. They philosophize about the victims, and wonder who would want to kill a reverend who works in a homeless shelter. John continues to think about the case, to work it out, to get to the bottom of it -- and bam! Quicker then Emeril can toss some salt, John says that maybe the reverend wasn't the intended victim.
John jumps back to the "Stewardess Only" section and asks for the manifest. See, as much as Irony just wanted a little rest, she had to join Evil on this vacation, because this damn episode is called "Manifest Destiny." See, the plane's manifest holds all the answers to the mystery stepping in front of John's destiny, which can, at this moment, only be found in Rachel. Someone please stop me from poking my eyes out with toothpicks. John wants to know why some names are handwritten and some typed. The stewardess explains that changes are made at the gate. The reverend's name is handwritten, meaning someone else was supposed to sit in that seat. What happened? The stewardess said that person probably cancelled or upgraded their seat to first class. John: "I need to know who was originally in the minister's seat." Why? "Because maybe the minister wasn't supposed to die." The stewardess says, "So the real victim is still alive?" John looks at the manifest for another second, and then says they've got to remove the ink with a "counter-agent." He starts sniffing people along the rows until he finds a man with aftershave. He then mixes the aftershave with some water, shakes it up in a barf bag, pours it on the paper, rubs it around for a while, and uncovers the name Rachel Pembroke. Oh! My! Gosh! She's the intended victim. Damn. I couldn't have seen that coming with a ten-foot pole.
John screams, "Rachel!" and "Rachel!" and follows that up with a little more "Rachel!" Now an angry mob, for some godforsaken reason, thinks that this crazy behaviour means that he, John Doe, is the killer. So you know their reaction? Yeah, they lock him into the bathroom. Of course, while all of this is going on, voices in the background say, "He did it!" and "He's the killer" and "Leave him alone he's just trying to help," and most poignantly, "Lock him in the bathroom." Ah, thank goodness for voice-over. It's totally making my day. It's hilarious. So John starts to flail around the bathroom because he suddenly remembers he's claustrophobic. He screams, "Rachel!" a couple more times, tosses his arms around like he's a windmill, and really just freaks out.
John tries to calm himself down by quoting plane statistics again. Then he remembers he's got the little girl's walkie-talkie. Meanwhile, Rachel talks to the pilot as she takes his pulse. He's conscious now, and will be able to land the plane, which is, of course, a great relief. Evil lurks behind the curtain again, watching Rachel with the doctor. Cut to John trying to get a hold of Pavel's daughter. She's not serious, though! She's a kid. It's not until he starts speaking Russian into the walkie-talkie that Pavel realizes what's going on. He and the rest of the thugs race to the back of the plane and toss the mob out of the way, rescuing John from his bathroom prison. They speak Russian to one another. Rachel rushes back and sees John rushing toward her. John explains that the reverend actually took her seat, and that she's in danger. They try to figure out who would want to kill her, or why. Evil lurks. John runs off to go find Inspector Clueless, leaving Pavel to protect Rachel in case the killer gets any fancy ideas.
John and Inspector Clueless take another look at the bathroom crime scene. They come to the conclusion that the killer would still have blood residue on his or her hands. John jumps up and tells the stewardess that in five minutes, he'll need all the lights out. You know what? He's going to do a little CSI for himself -- by applying luminol to everyone's hands, they can discover the killer. But where will they get luminol? Easy! It's hydrogen peroxide mixed in with some photographic developer. Good thing the supermodel and her boyfriend were on the flight. Do you think the writers worked that out in advance? Yawn. John mixes up the solution in a carafe, then pours it into a spray bottle.
They use a Palm Pilot as a "firefly" and start squirting people's hands. They don't find anyone. The Inspector admits that it was an "inspired" effort, and then he asks the stewardess to "raise the lights." But wait! John's got to squirt the inspector's hands. There's blood all over them! The audience erupts into a world of "ohs!" and "ahs!" The inspector screams, "I'm not the killer!" Then he squirts the rest of his clothes and explains that he moved the co-pilot's arm, and that's where the blood came from. Then he squirts John's hands, which also have blood on them from when Rachel removed the poison. The stewardess turns the lights back on. John asks, "Are you sure this is everyone?" The stewardess replies, "Yes. Except -- I think someone is missing!" They check the manifest again, and sure enough, they find that Louis Garber, the aeronautical engineer, is indeed missing.
John immediately goes to check on Rachel. When he gets back to the rear of the plane, he discovers that Pavel's been knocked out cold.
Louis and Rachel struggle in the hold. He's opened some hatches, and this is causing the oxygen to deplete. Wind whips them all over the place. Rachel screams, "Please. Why are you doing this to me?" Are you ready for it? Are you sure you can handle the cheese? Are you sure you wouldn't like a laxative before we begin? Okay. Louis's mother died of the very disease Rachel treats. Only Rachel wouldn't let her into the study. She didn't think his mother would make a good candidate. As Rachel screams, Louis shouts out the whole story. He screams, "I want you to suffer like she suffered." As a result of Rachel's rejection, his mother died. Rachel screamed, "That was three years ago!" Yes, but the maniacal mind of Louis waited in the wings for the perfect moment to "get" to Rachel. Now, he's got her on "his" turf. In "his" world, the world where he controls her death just like she controlled his mother's three years ago. John comes down the hatch and sneaks up on the killer. Louis busts open a flare and threatens to light up the cockpit oxygen if John comes any further. John screams, "Let her go!" Louis shouts, "I'll let her go when she's dead!" Then he takes a good lungful of oxygen just to prove that he can breathe while Rachel starts to choke. John tries to reason with him, but Louis just won't listen. John has no choice -- he's got to unleash a luggage compartment on the poor dude, squishing him, and therefore taking him out of commission. Aw, my hero. Yawn.
The sun rises over the clouds as the plane lands at Heathrow. You-are-my-everlasting-soulmate music follows the plane's descent. Inspector Clueless reports his "success" to the detective who's come on board after landing. He's pompous and takes credit for everything. As he tries to tell the detective what he did, without including John, Pavel comes and clamps Clueless's mouth shut with his hand, saying in Russian, "English man sounds best when he makes no sound." Then he leaves. In first class, Rachel and John share a glass of brandy. She says, "So, it's all about deduction." He says, "Precisely, my dear Watson." Sherlock Holmes turns in his grave and wishes he were back in The Hound of the Baskervilles. He just can't take anymore of this hogwash. John then asks Rachel when her divorce papers come through. Which comes out of nowhere. Hell, they can't even have a tender moment without the big brains coming in and ruining everything. Blah she twists a nonexistent ring on her finger, blah it takes eighteen months to get rid of that habit, blah marriage blah. Wow. He's presumptuous. They bicker about whether or not she's traditional, about the fact that it might have been a different kind of ring. He says, "If it wasn't a wedding ring, what was it?" She says that if he really wants to know, he'll have to ask her for dinner, and strawberry rhubarb pie. They smile. And then they kiss while a song in the background sings, "Desire, desire, desire, desire." I'm sorry, but this is quite possibly the worst onscreen kiss I have ever seen. They both sort of half-open their mouths and lightly plunge them together as if waiting for something to happen. Their lips sort of fall on each other and stick there like rice in the bottom of a glass dish. There's no passion. There's no hot burning desire. There's nothing but a bit of awkwardness and some really bad tunes. Well, at least we know John's not good at absolutely everything.