No sooner has Michael swum to shore than the cops are all over him. It seems Management has been true to his threat to withdraw his organization's protection, and Michael's in custody before the opening titles. With the police and multiple international intelligence agencies now on the lookout for him, Michael is bailed out by an old operative buddy named Harlan, who wants his help nabbing a South American crime boss named Rufino Cortez. If they can turn him over to the Venezuelan authorities, they can save Harlan's girlfriend's father. Except Cortez is so paranoid that just getting to him takes a lot of doing, and by the time they've grabbed him, Michael learns that Harlan is also working for Cortez's partners. He kills Cortez, and plans to hand Michael over to the federales as the killer. Yes, old buddy Harlan sold him out. But Michael escapes, subdues Harlan, and leaves him gift-wrapped for Venezuelan intelligence. So Michael's okay for now, but as he, Sam, Fi, and even Madeline realize, with everyone after Michael it's about to be a long season. Michael's plan? Get his old job back. Yeah, good luck with that, what with still being burned and all.
This rare set of previouslies makes me miss Victor all over again. So let's just get to the bit where Carla was killed by Fi with a sniper rifle, Michael met Management, and then jumped out of his helicopter over the ocean, miles from shore. And let's hope that we don't pick things up with Michael being asked for help by a desperate manatee.
Michael's made considerable progress toward land since we last saw him, I'm glad to say. Looks like he's only a few hundred yards out by now, although after three months in the ocean, he's got to be pretty pruney. As he slogs through the breakers towards a public beach, he VOs, "As an operative, you get used to being in uncomfortable situations. Whether it's resisting interrogation in a foreign prison, fighting guerilla forces in a tropical jungle, or swimming five miles to Miami Beach in your suit pants, it's just part of the job." No wonder he wants that job back so bad. During this speech, Michael struggles up onto the sand in his pants and wifebeater. He attracts some looks as he collapses next to a kid who looks over his sand castle at Michael with concern, VOing, "What's harder to get used to is going into a situation you don't know anything about. Just because you're exhausted and disoriented doesn't mean you can stop looking out for trouble." "Hi," he gasps to the young beach architect, and struggles to his bare feet. As he talks about non-obvious sources of potential danger, he's looking around at the people looking back at him, innocuous-seeming beachgoers. But by the time he reaches the sea wall, the list of harmless potential dangers is just wrapping up with this relevant item: "A cop that suddenly seems a little too interested in you." This just as Michael happens to notice a bicycle officer chatting with a squad car unit a short way up the path. They call out to him, and Michael starts running. What next, is he going to steal the cop's bike and make it a triathlon?
Michael runs through the park, threading through vendor booths and snagging a pink tourist t-shirt and a pair of cheap wraparound shades along the way. Well, he did leave his real sunglasses inside Management's helicopter. Ducking down an alley, he's soon inside a nearby hotel's back entrance, and while the bicycle cop calls for backup on his radio, Michael nonchalantly dons his new gear and blends in with the tourists in the hotel hallway. He soon finds a door marked "Utility Room" and grabs a fire extinguisher from the wall to bash the doorknob off, explaining, "The backbone of most hotel phone systems is secured by nothing more than a door and a cheap lock." Of course, Michael is soon past both. "Which makes them convenient for people who need to make quick, untraceable phone calls," he adds. Some maintenance guy left his phone repair kit hanging right there, and after snagging the handset from it and fiddling around with the wires inside the tiny switchboard for a minute, Michael's got a dial tone. You know, I used to work with a telephone wiring bank way bigger than that one and I have no idea what he just did.