Potato Face reports that Wild Card is off the train and moving north. Special Agent Charlie Brown falls in behind a loose crowd of white, dark-haired males in their thirties, most of whom are carrying duffels, backpacks, or man-purses. As some of them head up the stairs at the end of the platform, Special Agent Charlie Brown asks if Potato Face can check the altitude's target. She triangulates, which I always thought you needed at least two points of observation to pull off, and confirms that Wild Card is moving upwards. Charlie Brown follows, reporting that he's got ten remaining white males in his sights. Wild Card continues moving, and heads down the escalator to the opposite platform, where Kiefer's still in position on his bench. The target group is down to four. Special Agent Charlie Brown is still behind them. Kiefer quietly orders the teams to start closing in. Potato Face reports that Wild Card has stopped, just as a guy carrying a large product-placed shopping bag stops to study the transit map behind Kiefer. Kiefer announces that he's making his move. With his gun out but clasped against his back, Kiefer approaches the Secret Shopper, whose day is abruptly ruined when Kiefer gets within a yard of him, shows his weapon, orders the Secret Shopper to drop the bag, and literally kicks him to the floor. The Secret Shopper's flat on his face with agents swarming around him. Special Agent Charlie Brown runs a handheld scanner over the shopping bag and gets a signal. Kiefer doesn't want to wait for hazmat, because the virus is either still in the vial or they're already contaminated. Special Agent Charlie Brown carefully shakes the bag's contents onto the floor. The signal's coming from inside an ugly-ass sweater that's folded up. Special Agent Charlie Brown uncovers a pack of smokes. I won't mention the brand, but I will say that the Camel Cash is still attached. The Secret Shopper, still face-down, denies ownership of them until Kiefer roars at him to shut up. Sorry, Secret Shopper -- Los Angeles is pretty serious about being smoke-free. Special Agent Charlie Brown picks up the pack and tips out three cigarettes and a blinking electronic device. Uh-oh. Kiefer realizes that Wild Card is wilder than he thought; he ditched the transmitter, and the vial and its courier are still at large. Kiefer gives the order to shut down the subway station. Better hope he's not already out on the street.
Lady Mac clearly lives in the kind of neighborhood where a burglar and a White House Chief of Staff sprinting across the street don't attract any attention at all, because that's what's happening. They scramble into Brother Palmer's car at 11:57:13. What have they been doing for the past ten minutes? Straightening up? Getting Brother Palmer back into his jacket? I can just see Foxton saying, "Look, I know it seems like you should put your left arm into the sleeve in front of it, but that's because of the way I'm holding it. Trust me, when it's turned around and on your back, it'll all work out." Brother Palmer is cranking the engine when he happens to glance over at Lady Mac's driveway, where Julia Milliken is just parking her convertible. Brother Palmer knows that no good can come of this, but no situation is so hopeless that he can't make it worse. He gets out of the car and runs toward the house, ignoring Foxton's protests.