Numb3rs: Soft Target (Episode 206)

Disclaimer: This recap was unfortunately delayed due to issues that are classified. All speculation should be disregarded as all discussion concerning the conspicuous absence of this recap can only help the recapper. What kind of patriot would want to help the recapper?

Opening Grid: 28350 Chatter intercepts, 15000 Soft targets, 11 Anti-terror exercises, 1 Mistake. (Please ignore the 179 of the 28350 chatter intercepts that specifically mention the recapper. Again, do not help her by adding to her arsenal of snarkasm.)

North Hollywood Station: The action begins with an obviously creepy guy carrying a backpack sneaking onto a subway train. Elsewhere on the platform, security officials chase down a trio of less creepy-looking suspects. The officers shout warnings and the suspects are eventually shot when suddenly we learn not to be concerned. It’s just an anti-terrorism exercise, led by Max Medina, Rory Gilmore’s former teacher. There’s nothing to be worried about, Mr. Medina would never hurt anyone. On the other hand, he does give everyone an F in Terrorism Preparedness class. It turns out they were supposed to keep the suspects alive. Max orders everyone to redo the practical test.

The anti-terrorism exercise is just a smokescreen, though, because suddenly there is real smoke on the train behind them. It’s a government-sponsored exercise to help the public feel safer, yet they miss the real threat lurking, literally, right behind them. Does this seem a tad familiar? Max actually has to tell the conductor to open the doors to save the people inside, which explains a lot about why the terror drill was a failure in the first place.

Don and Megan arrive. We learn the gas on the subway was phosgene and that this was one of a number of anti-terrorism drills to be held in the LA area. We also learn that all of the people on the train were undercover cops or other security personnel, which makes the fact that creepy guy with the backpack was able to sneak on that much more alarming. Turns out that Homeland Security, the agency for which Max works, has another 10 terror drills planned for LA. I hope the other 10 have smarter security agents; otherwise everyone is doomed.

An idiot with a distinct drawl (from where, I choose not to speculate, but the actor wasn’t born in a place renowned for its Texan accents drawls), comes blustering forward. Max introduces him as his boss, Houseman. Because the intelligence community in Washington doesn’t think it was a terrorist attack, Houseman won’t cancel any of the other planned drills. Also, Houseman argues that the gas release couldn’t be terrorism because terrorists only want the maximum kill, thus oversimplifying a complex political, economic and ideological issue. Phew! I’m relieved this is fiction, because it would be terrifying if people in power did this in real life.

Megan channels me for a moment, arguing that Houseman’s view is only one profile, and Don, Megan, and everyone else with opposable thumbs realizes it would be a mistake not to cancel the drill until the Feds finish their investigation. Max tries to justify the continuation of the drills, but Megan shoots him down:

Megan: Your boss always this reasonable?

Max: To stop the drills now... it's like turning the Titantic.

Megan: The Titantic hit an iceberg!

Burn.

Credits

La Maison d'Eppes: Don arrives home looking for Charlie and discovers his father ordering chairs and an arbor.

Don’s all WTF, but down the stairs comes Val, an old high school “friend” of both Don and Charlie. Don attempts to be nonchalant about her sudden appearance while struggling to put his tongue back in his head. Alan dives into the writers’ exposition toy box, explaining that Val needed an emergency venue for her wedding and only La Maison d'Eppes would suffice.

There is an exchange of “what are you doing now?” and we learn that Val is a pediatric surgeon. We also learn that Alan is extremely bitter his son screwed up his chances with her all the way back in high school.

Val inadvertently brings up the purpose of Don’s visit (Charlie) and Alan gives the audience back story about Don and Charlie fighting over Val on the front lawn. Turns out Don took Val to the prom and Charlie was jealous. In Val's defense, going to the prom with a 13-year-old would be all levels of creepy, and would put an entirely different spin on the reason she went into pediatrics.

Outside, Don finds Larry and Charlie putting the final touches on the Physics Department’s entry into the annual “Mini Bot Chain Yank and Crank” competition. That has to be the dirtiest sounding competition on Cal Sci’s campus (after the equally popular “Find the Math Professor’s Exponent”). Larry clearly has some issues with the Engineering Department, which wins this competition every year. After a show of extreme geekiness, the bot pulls Larry’s car 3 feet and then craps out. Larry bemoans that this is exactly what happened in 1998. Might this whole desire to win foreshadow Larry’s gambling problem later in the season?

After a brief tense-filled discussion about Val, in which we discover that Charlie was Val’s lab partner, Don finally gets back to the case. Larry is hit by the exposition fairy and tells us all about the uses for phosgene, and Charlie theorizes how best to find the source of the gas and who set it off.

North Hollywood Station: I’m pretty certain all of Charlie’s methods to find the source of the gas didn’t include garbage collection, but that is exactly what David and Colby are doing. (Seriously, this must be part of the new agent hazing program because Colby’s doing the majority of the garbage sorting.)

Colby finds a hat, jacket, gas mask and backpack which we can safely assume must’ve belonged to creepy guy from the start of this episode. A Latte To Go can that has been tampered with is also found. Megan’s so excited and enthusiastic about the Latte To Go, I momentarily fear that she’s actually going to check if there’s any left in the can for her. That would so be well beyond the three second rule for food, Megan.

International House of Fedcakes: Charlie waxes poetic about how half his students suck back on a Latte To Go during his lecture. Hello? Have those students seenthe professor?

Charlie explains how the self-heating can was used to disperse the phosgene gas. Megan’s still excited about the yumminess of a Latte To Go and I’m glad that Megan shares my love for caffeine, as it makes me like her more. Charlie uses a dispersion model to determine that the perp set off the gassy latte in the centre of the train, but because it was diluted with a harmless gas, it's clear that there was no intent to hurt anyone, this time. This means that according to <my version of the terror alert scale, LA is only on category Latte.

Outside the Homeland Security offices: Don makes a futile attempt to convince Houseman to postpone or cancel the terrorism drills. Houseman isn’t swayed by the whole “people might die” argument. Also, Houseman disagrees with Don’s (AKA Charlie’s) math so we all know that the karma gods will have it in for him later. The argument continues and eventually provides the Numb3rs Painfully Awkward Line ™ of the week, “Look, Agent, I’ve had some experience making tough decisions like these when I oversaw base security as a consultant in Iraq.” Why is this line the line of the week? The actor sounds like he’s tripping over every word, but since it’s still included in the final edit, obviously the information from this line is far more important than the awkward delivery. Houseman, clearly out of touch with what is really happening around him, thinks the terror alert level is only Iced Tea.

La Maison d'Eppes: Charlie and Larry are unloading a variety of files from Larry’s car when Alan engages them in conversation over the current case. Alan is representative of the everyman here as his shock and concern over the attack at the terror drill clearly frightens him. He covers his concern by trying to convince Charlie to help with the preparations for the wedding. Charlie declares, “I’m providing house. You provide labour.” The look on Alan’s face is all levels of pissed off. It’s the type of pissed-off face reserved for parents. Larry asks about Val, unwittingly providing ammunition for vengeance, and Alan jumps at the chance to relate an embarrassing tale of Charlie and Don fighting over Val on the front lawn. The look on Charlie’s face echoes that of his father’s moments earlier, except this look is reserved for children who are now grown and tired of hearing about the humiliating tales of their youth.

Larry is highly amused by this embarrassment and Charlie is so adorably awkward in trying to get everybody back to the task at hand that Alan is actually annoying in his smugness. This, I truly believe, is the moment Charlie declares the house war that we’ve seen in every episode since. It’s great recapping episodes long after they’ve aired, as I now have the benefit of knowing what came afterwards, making little moments like this so much more significant.

IHOF: David and Colby, after yucky garbage detail, were then assigned the equally fascinating, yet less messy job of reviewing the subway station’s security tape. They’ve not only found footage of the guy dumping the terrorist paraphernalia in the garbage can, but they’ve identified him as Roger Holstein, 31, ex-special forces. Colby recognizes Holstein's tattoo as that of a Counter Terror operative.

Holstein’s last job was to stage a mock attack on a chemical company, which is where he probably got the phosgene. Say all you want for David and Colby and the whole new agent hazing ritual, but this pair, in however long it’s been since the attack, has accomplished more than the entire CTU on 24 does in an entire season. On the other hand, I’m uncertain as to the passage of time in this episode, so if it’s a few days more than the one day on 24 – aw hell, someone ask Charlie to do the math on that productivity, please, because it’s making my brain hurt.

Megan notices that Holstein is wearing an earpiece, meaning he’s working on a team. The ever-efficient Colby has the file on Holstein right in front of him and exposits that Holstein’s superior in Iraq was Glen Nash, and together, with his team, once even stole a submarine. Those wacky army scavenger hunts! (I would like to point out that although we’re told they stole the submarine, not once is it mentioned they returned it.)

Megan bumps the terror alert scale to Cappuccino Level by pondering what a team that could steal a submarine could do to an unprepared Los Angeles.

Nash Home: David and Colby question Jennifer Nash, sister of the aforementioned Glen. Jennifer gives us a sob story about how serving in Iraq changed Nash, but really this just gives us time to realize that Glen Nash is played by Scott William Winters, the infamous Dean O’Reilly on Oz. Turns out Nash lost men over in Iraq, and we get a whole volume of Colby back story when he solemnly agrees that something as traumatic like that can change a man. Colby’s an Afghanistan vet, so that means not only is he the Fedcakes’ beefcake, he’s also a damaged beefcake. Jennifer finally clues in that Nash could be in trouble, but other than providing background on Colby Nash, this interview does little to advance the investigation.

Charlie’s Cal Sci Office: Don has clearly been taking lessons from my family, by attempting to guilt Charlie into working faster. It works, because Charlie is suddenly inspired to use psych percolation theory: all he needs is the data from the remaining exercises to figure out the modus operandi of the terror team. Bad Charlie! For the love of all things, even if you’ve managed to discover the theory of cold fusion, cured the common cold and developed a new way to alter the human genetic code to allow us to fly, you do not give into familial guilt. Once you do, every member of your family will know it works and you’ll never get a moment’s peace ever again! In fact, the levels of guilt, even if you resist, will only increase, because they know you’ve folded before so they know you’ll fold again and –

Uh, never mind, that’s between me and my therapist. Although, the flying thing would be really cool.

Thinking of family issues, Don tries to have a serious heart-to-heart conversation about the upcoming wedding and high school. It quickly descends into an odd reenactment of that old 50’s TV show Queen for a Day, wherein Charlie and Don compete as to who had the worst time in high school. Charlie felt awkward and out of place at 13 and only Val was nice to him. Don felt like an idiot next to his younger brother. Yeah fine, someone determines who’ll win the washer and dryer, because everyone who went through high school has some tale of woe to tell.

When the conversation becomes a little too emotional, Charlie retreats to his version of Linus’ blanket: math. He’s going to need more data to track Nash’s next move. The discussion ends with Don looking pissed and Charlie looking awkward, yet neither saying what’s truly bothering them. That’s the pair of emotionally repressed brothers I know and love.

IHOF: The Fedcakes are looking into Nash and the rest of his team that live on the stolen yellow submarine. (All right, I can only hope it’s yellow. Watch it be blue, or puce, or some other not so fun colour.) The rest of the team isn’t important except to know that some of their former teammates were killed in Iraq. They were killed at an allegedly secure base in Iraq. Sound familiar? Megan theorizes that Nash is trying to show the same lapses in security from the supposedly secure base in Iraq are present in the current exercises in LA.

Nash’s entire team dropped off the face of the earth after breaking into the chemical labs where they stole the phosgene. There’s been a distinct lack of contact between them and the outside world. I guess it would be difficult making long distance calls while bunking on the Nautilus.

Max Medina arrives with more toys from the exposition toy box in the form of the master plans for the terror drills and the news that Nash sent rants to Homeland Security about Houseman’s terror drills. Max confides in Don that he would rate the current situation as Latte To Go, as opposed to Houseman’s Latte Level, because Max was also a soldier in Iraq. Ouch! I think I was just hit by an anvil. I need an Advil.

Math Garage: Charlie is working on the most complex mathematical and spatial problem known to man, a wedding seating chart. In my opinion, the ultimate wedding seating chart that satisfies every single guest should be one of the millennium problems. Also, Charlie’s taking way more into account than I ever did when I helped plan a wedding. I was more concerned that my creepy uncle didn’t strangle my annoying cousin. Not once did I even consider traffic flow.

Charlie tries to divert the true purpose of Larry’s visit by talking about the case. For once, Larry will not be distracted, and draws Charlie into a discussion of the Eppes brothers' issues. After offering some strangely guru-sounding advice about the path to resolution, Charlie’s brain, firmly cuddled by his Linus Math Blanket, realizes that there is a method to Nash’s madness; Nash only wants to breach the security of the hardest targets.

IHOF: Colby and David have been off doing drudge work yet again, looking into the recent employment history of Nash’s team of crack Ninja Counter Terrorism experts. (Okay, maybe not Ninja but definitely cracked.) All worked low level McJobs (Megan’s term) and Colby speculates that each job -- construction, electronics and home building supply -- might have been for a grander purpose, as the army trains them to live off the land. This leads Megan back to the simple Latte To Go can. You know, despite her dismissive attitude about the actual value of the item, extensive research (10 minutes and the use of Google) has brought to light an interesting fact: it cost 24 million dollars to invent that inexpensive convenience store item. At $2.99 a can, that’s over 8 million cans that need to be sold just to break even. Between Megan and me, they’ll recoup it by the middle of July.

Charlie rushes in, ready to share the new discoveries he made about Nash and his desire for hard targets. The concept of the Linear Discriminant Analysis is 10 too many syllables for Houseman, who protests at having to sit through a math lecture. When will the guest stars learn that those who go against the genius that is Charlie Eppes never have good karma for the rest of the episode?

Don puts on his big brother protective face, and shushes Houseman. Charlie continues explaining that the hardest target is City Hall and the exercise planned for the following day is at risk. Charlie’s thunder is stolen by the report that the Homeland Security office has been broken into.

Homeland Security Office: While Houseman checks his laptop to be sure the terror group didn’t erase all his porn links, Megan is confused by the turn of events. We’re told that the office isn’t a hard target (WTF? It isn’t?) so this breaks with the pattern. Houseman makes a decision to search every inch of the building, and Max isn’t convinced that’ll do anything. The cameras didn’t actually see anyone enter the building, which brings us to a new conclusion: that the alarm was triggered only to give the terror team a chance to observe the Feds in action. Good thing this is fiction, because it would be terrifying to think that it would be remotely possible for anyone to get into the Homeland Security office or hack its security system.

At this point, we would like to dispel any rumours those responsible for setting up the surveillance were certain members of extremely active Numb3rs community on the boards. Any innuendo that the break in was a vain attempt to get the Fedcakes in riot gear is entirely false but only due to complete lack of opportunity.

IHOF: Further investigation reveals that the terror team stole a whole bunch of useful (a term which here means "able to blow shit up") equipment from all their McJobs.

Outside IHOF: The Feds confront Houseman once again with concrete evidence that there is a clear intention to make a bomb, and Max concurs. After missing the memo entitled “Glen Nash Determined to Strike Inside the Terror Exercises” for the first two-thirds of the episode, Houseman makes a surprising decision to postpone everything until after Nash is caught.

The ability to make a reasonable decision sends up red flags to Don and Megan, and they decide to investigate.

La Maison d'Eppes: Don arrives to mooch some of Alan’s lasagna because he has secretly set up cameras that transmit when food is served at his childhood domicile find Charlie looking at his high school yearbook. Charlie’s image is right next to Val’s, which leads into a very mature analysis by Charlie of their adult lives.

He postulates that the type of work they’re doing could never have been accomplished when they were younger and not just because of the whole "must be a minimum of 18 before working with the Feds" rule, either. After Don gives Charlie what every younger sibling on the planet wishes for -- an apology for treating him like crap when he was younger -- they resume their conspiracy not to give their father the satisfaction of getting married.

Don remarks that Alan would be happy if he married someone with a pulse. I wonder if that criterion applies to both Don and Charlie because, well, I’m embarrassed to admit this, but if it means we’re perfect for each other, I will: I, theoriginalspy (Spy for short), have a pulse. E-mail me.

Turning back to the case, Charlie explains that the terror-drill targets are too soft for Nash’s taste, and therefore, they’ve got to start looking at other people or targets.

IHOF: The morning after the lasagna-mooching incident, Don examines the video tape from the alleged Homeland Security office break-in. The Fedcakes notice Houseman’s anxiety at discovering all of his porn had been erased and replaced with the message “Over 1900 KIA. You’re gonna burn.” Sadly, it doesn’t take Charlie to point out that the number is now much higher. Nor does it take an English major to point out “gonna” isn’t a word. Don orders that Houseman be put in protective custody, but learns he’s been missing from work all day. He’s hiding out in a bunker in Nebraska. The Feds change course and go after Nash, who has just been spotted outside of his sister’s house.

House of Nash: Hiding stealthily inside a plumbing van, Megan observes Nash inside the house. While I appreciate any opportunity to put the Feds in riot gear (*drool*), I would like to point out that the Feds went through all the trouble of hiding their presence by hiding in the back of the plumbing van and giving the driver uniform, but Megan is perfectly visible, in the front seat, wearing a vest and peering through binoculars.

While Megan is a brilliant profiler and all around respectably tough female, surveillance is definitely not her strong suit.

The Feds rush the house and capture Nash. Strangely, the calmest person in this scene is most definitely Nash. Don, on the other hand, has taken to acting like Jacob Two-Two and repeats everything he says twice. Don, on the other hand, has taken to acting like Jacob Two-Two and repeats everything he says twice. It’s a little distracting. It’s a little distracting.

IHOF: Nash is cooperating fully because, I suspect, a CT trained Spec Ops army guy could probably withstand interrogation. Megan and Don confront him with the evidence. Nash is taken aback because he’s been in Mexico in drug rehab. As cool as it is to see Scott William Winters on television again, he now holds an unique distinction on Numb3rs: the longest time a red herring has remained in play. I guess Nash isn’t going back to Oz.

Megan has a moment of inspiration, realizing that Nash isn’t the only ex-army guy who lost people in Iraq, and it turns out Max Medina is this week’s baddie. Oh Max! You’ve fallen so far since you left Chilton! It turns out the clueless Houseman’s second-in-command has a deep-seeded need for attention and a strange desire to almost kill people. Oh, this is Jon Stewart-level irony here.

Roof of Homeland Security: The Feds, who were nice enough to change into their lovely riot gear outfits first, confront Max, who has wired Houseman with a bomb. Don orders a perimeter to be set up around the building in case that bomb is a weapon of body mass destruction. Megan delivers the perfect response to that order: “Aren’t we in it?” That would so be what I would say, as I was running down the stairs, away from the potentially crazy number 2, Max.

Megan stops channeling me and instead uses all her psychological prowess to convince Max not to blow himself and Houseman to kingdom come in vengeance for the death of good men in Iraq. Houseman insists that he’s never done anything to Max, if one can causing Max to crack through sheer force of pigheadedness, “nothing.” Max argues that the drills were nothing but shows, planned events to prove that the mission was accomplished.

This is the final clue Megan needs to understand Max’s motivation, and the actress is awesome, because despite the suspenseful music and continuing threats by Max, she manages to convey that there isn’t any real danger – this was all just an exercise. A real exercise that while Homeland Security wasn’t up to the task, Don and his team of Fedcakes were.

A moment of amusement when Don rips out wires in the bomb, as it’s clear Houseman needs a change of pants afterwards – even though the bomb was a fake.

It’s a good thing that in these difficult times we can always rely on agents like Don, Charlie and Megan to come through and save the day. Crap, they’re fictional.

La Maison d'Eppes: Alan leaves his duties as wedding planner and plays Ferdinand for a moment, smelling the flowers. He then goes over to break up potential fisticuffs between his grown sons, as Charlie is attempting to adjust Don’s tie and Don isn’t letting him. A beautiful moment between the Eppes men is ruined when Charlie compliments his father’s ability to throw a great wedding, giving Alan yet another opportunity to bemoan the unwedded states of his extremely attractive sons.

Val steps out briefly to say thank you and Don has another moment gathering his tongue back into his head. Glancing at the groom, Alan comments that Val married a doctor, and Charlie pipes up that he’s also a doctor. “That’s what I meant,” Alan replied. Alan, are you implying you would have been all right with Charlie marrying his high school crush, even though at the time it would have been illegal almost anywhere in the western world?

The Eppes men are approached by a very pretty young woman who, it turns out, is Bree Eng, Val's cousin. Bree is looking for an *escort*, and I’m sure there is a double entendre in there somewhere, but it’s too subtle for me to find.

Don allows Charlie to be the escort in this situation, as I guess stealing one Eng from the lovelorn Charlie is enough for Don.

As Charlie escorts Bree (seriously), Alan points out the caterer, and it turns out Alan is the only Eppes to actually have a date to this shindig. Don lights up at the sight of the caterer’s daughter, and the episode ends with Don clearly wondering if she needs an *escort.*