Outside, Rosen banters with Don about Don's suspicions regarding donut shops before moving onto the subject of Hicks. "He was brainwashed," Rosen says shortly. Don makes some more confusing, paranoid remarks about something called the "Ghost Files" that prompt Rosen to ask, 'Why do I feel like I'm in a Beckett play when I talk to you?" Don brushes that aside and tells Rosen about some people they lost last year in the Red Flag operation in grisly ways, all of whom had bumps in the brain. Rosen's not happy to learn this, but Don tells him, "Go get the Ghost, before he gets someone else."
And here he is. The creepy guy in shades from the grocery store at the beginning -- presumably the Ghost -- walks into a trendy hotel lobby, wipes his gloved hands on a napkin, then uses another one to shield his (still-gloved) finger while he presses buttons to get on an elevator. Inside a white apartment, with a closet full of identical white suits and gray coats like the one he's wearing, he puts his sunglasses in a case. He's clearly got some OCD going on, as he neatly panics over a loose thread on the breast pocket of his suit. Maybe he should be more worried about how the palm of his right hand looks like a melted pizza. Then he lets in the photographer (four minutes late), who lays out his photos of the team while saying there's no record of any of them. White Suit is satisfied, but there's the matter of the photographer being four minutes late. He puts his pizza-hand to the side of the photographer's neck, telling him to follow his instructions "exactly" next time.
At HQ, Rosen's doing an exam of Hicks, who's handcuffed to a chair in the MRI room. He gives Hicks an injection to counteract "the effects of the forced induction," and starts asking him about his blackouts and what he remembers. Hicks's last memory is of a tone coming out of his phone, and then waking up the next day. Rosen asks if there was anything like aphasia -- "Difficulty reading, hearing the wrong words." Suddenly Hicks remembers all the "Time to kill" messages. He has lots of questions for Rosen, but Rosen's two answers: "Nothing's wrong with you" and "You killed a man" don't exactly jibe with each other.
Elsewhere, the photographer walks into a convenience store, buys a big bottle of bleach from a top shelf, and, to the horror of the clerk, chugs as much of it as he can before collapsing. Interesting development! Get it? Development? Because he's a photographer? Oh, never mind.