3 a.m. to 4 a.m.
CTU is back, along with it's complicated, illegal-searching servers, to save the country with Big Brother tactics and racial profiling. Oh you have a problem with that Air America?
Janice: Talk about Big Brother
Finally, Garofalo has become relevant on the show as the liberal mouthpiece of the FBI, talking about freedom, the bill of rights and everything else Bob Marley wanted you to have. And it only took 20 hours.
The
Despite being bombed and constantly infiltrated with moles and obese computer technicians (I'm gonna go ahead and throw the leftovers of my ham sandwich on the ground for Edgar Styles), CTU apparently did a better job at protecting America than people thought. However with Tony enacting the "I think one bomb is enough" plan, the country needs to fight crazy with crazy. Hence, the resurrection of CTU her sexy, know-it-all servers.
And, like most of the missions old-school CTU engaged in, Bauer opened the department up with his tried-and-true "I know you have lost friends and colleagues today, but we have to work" speech.
Tony, like a dog humping a stuffed animal, has an agenda and it involves an anonymous group of people willing to meet late at night to scheme how to wage war on the general public.
If I'd had to guess, I'd say this group is the National Association of Realtors, a group that probably spent countless encrypted 4 a.m. phone calls dreaming up terms like PMI (it's like rent only with PMS) and how to make sure a cloud of raining pee is perpetually showering a home's backyard the second you close on said house.
Someday, Realtors of America, the cloud of raining pee will be above your head, causing the housing market to crash, banks unable to give out loans and more people turning to apartments...
I'm not sure what Realtors would do with the canister, but I'm almost positive it would be to clear up some space for some low-priced, high-risk model homes situated near the ghetto. The draw? A built-in fireplace and Tony Almeida as a handy day worker who can replace shower curtains and give motivational speeches about taking terrorist opportunities when they present themselves.
Bauer: I made a terrible, terrible mistake. I wanted to believe.
Yes, we all wanted to believe that, deep down, illegal aliens are good. But the sad reality is that they're not. They're like Tony Almeida, a man who's ready to go the distance for one last terrorist attack. And the plan? To blame it on a real illegal alien who's doing right by the country he's visiting indefinitely by making breakfast in the middle of the night and watching the news...because that's not suspicious at all.
Jeez, Al-Zarian. You know why it's never a good day to be a Muslim? Cause you pull creepy shit like that. Listen to your brother and try to look as Puerto Rican as possible. The only thing they're suspicious of is being too awesome at dancing and baseball.
Unfortunately for Al-Zarian, he falls under the umbrella of enemy combatant, which is reserved for anyone who has killed Americans or who looks suspicious. That is, unless you're old, white and rich. In that case, you can do what you want and in the end, get a vacation from any sort of responsibility thanks to Witness Protection.
Jonas Hodges, who sucks at domestic and internal terrorism, is alive and screaming about protecting his family and suicide. Eventually, Bauer gives him the aural version of Twitter's beloved Fail Whale and tells the old man that he's "already dead" (which is a common tactic to confuse senior citizens into giving up vital information such as bank account numbers and where they hid their supply of vanilla wafers). In exchange for information, Hodges will get a proof of death certificate.
However when that doesn't work, Bauer places a fake late-night drunk dial to a Washington Post journalist because Hodges is old enough to remember when the print media mattered.
This tactic works, thanks to the combination seniors fear most: the press and not having their obituary in the paper.
If Hodges wasn't so out of touch, he would have realized that any journalist awake past midnight is either drunk or begging for sex and hardly working on a story.
And the one's who are working? They're getting screwed by the president's daughter, who has ceased to be the Chief of Staff and has become a crazed woman thirsty for revenge (or maybe just a hug from Aaron. The red-headed Secret Service stranger and cure all with his open arms, even if one is in a sling).
The only thing Olivia is good for is calling random men in at night. Her newest contact is apparently "too hardcore" for politics and may be the answer to her feelings of revenge when it comes to one Jonas Hodges.
As for Bauer, he's running on pure feelings of rage, which is emerging through his hatred for the liberal media, writing "terrifying reports" about his day and placing old friends into the enemy combatant pile. He's losing patience, the same way regular people stop caring about a cappella groups halfway through their song.
The worst part? He's apparently reverted back to Season 2 and thinks Palmer is still alive.