Using his spare access card, Michael follows the trail of Bill Johnson and quickly determines that that fourth-floor conference room is a sniper perch with a clear shot at the harbor ferry. An added bonus is that when Carla shows up, he and Sam are able to start tracking her, seemingly without her knowledge. Michael even manages to sneak into her hotel room to photograph a bunch of her documents, which appear to consist of a who's who of Season Two
Despite closing in on the big mystery, Michael's got other stuff to worry about as well. Fi's boyfriend Campbell delivers the Job Of The Week in the form of a kidnapping that needs to be stopped. Michael goes undercover as a drunk, down-on-his-luck security guard just ripe for the kidnappers to hire as an inside man. With help from Sam and Michael's brother Nate (who, by the way, is starting his own limo company with money from a mortgage on Madeline's house), Michael makes the security look airtight, but the kidnappers will not be dissuaded. Michael then tries to blow the job by faking a convincing jailhouse conversion, but all he does is get himself fired as the kidnappers hire a new inside man. So then Michael finally just foils the kidnapping sloppy-style, with a well-placed front bumper. Once again, he tries the easiest thing last.
While he's still celebrating his success, Carla brings the hammer down, having Nate arrested for money laundering. Michael, Sam, and Fi follow Carla to the marina, only to realize she's just distracting them while the sniper does his job. With the help of a stolen motorcycle and Fi's Saab commercial, Michael gets away and races home to get his access card while Sam heads to Bill Johnson's house to try and stop him there. But someone's way ahead of Sam, as Bill Johnson got blowed up by a bomb on his front door. That's something Sam probably should have shared with Michael a second or two earlier, as it might have prevented the explosion at Michael's loft. The last thing we see is an airborne Michael engulfed in flames, and the words "To Be Continued."
Michael and Sam are in Sam's Buick, staking out the office building they followed Bill Johnson to at the end of last week. Michael VOs about the two options you have when it comes to finding out about an enemy position. "You can watch from a distance; slow and safe. Or you can go inside and take a look; quick, but potentially fatal." Gee, which one is Michael going to pick? Sam is in the middle of trying to talk Michael out of his chosen course, on the grounds that they don't have enough intel to proceed. Michael disagrees: "The people who burned me got a specialized rifle to a sniper, got him an access card to this building, and sent him to a conference room on the fourth floor. That's a fair amount of intel." And a decent substitute for this show's stubborn lack of previouslies. He asks Sam what Bill Johnson has been up to, and fortunately Sam has a "Fed buddy," which I am assuming refers to a friend Sam has in the FBI rather than one with a full stomach. Either way, this pal of Sam's has been tracking Bill Johnson's credit card transactions from one Daytona strip club to another. I didn't even know you could stick those into g-strings. Michael holds up the access card prototype he stole from Nefzi's workshop and reminds Sam, "They killed someone for this badge, and I went to a lot of trouble to steal it. Shame not to use it."
With that, Michael gets out of the car and walks up to the front door and swipes the card. You know, the placement of the card reader on the outer door struck me as odd last week, too. Yes, most office buildings require security cards these days, but I've never been inside one where you need a pass just to get into the lobby. Of course, I'm just now realizing that that would be the point. Michael walks right in like he belongs there. He looks reputable enough in his standard, all-purpose suit-no-tie ensemble, but a decent shave would have completed the illusion. He's apparently got his razor set on "28 o'clock shadow" throughout this episode, probably because they shot it out of sequence and just decided it would be easier for continuity if he kept his whiskers at the ideal length for the cover ID he'll be adopting later. Or maybe Michael is just that good.
Noting the number of plainclothes guards standing around the lobby, he gets on an elevator and the pass takes him right to the fourth floor while he screws in a telephone earpiece so he can hear Sam spouting witticisms like, "What do you see up there, a mastermind petting a Persian cat?" But the floor seems to be vacant. Neither of them can seem to figure out right away why anybody would want to send a sniper to an empty floor. Uh, I've got a theory, but Michael isn't jumping to conclusions. Instead, he finds the conference room with no furniture save a massive table. An oval-shaped impression in the carpet tells him that the table was recently moved to its current position. Still not putting it together, it seems. He's usually quicker than this. He walks around it and opens a sliding door to a balcony, with a stunning view of what I assume is Biscayne Bay just outside. Still puzzled. Then he realizes that the table has been lined up so that it's basically pointed straight at the open door. At last it seems to fall into place for him as he finds three tiny holes drilled into the top of the table in a triangular configuration. Just right for, say, a tripod. He VOs, "Most people think snipes like to shoot from ledges." Well, no, I always assumed it was rooftops, mostly from watching this show. "The fact is, the best sniper position is inside a room, through an open window. It hides the shooter, masks the report of a supersonic round, and makes the muzzle flash impossible to see." Finally, Michael tells Sam that this is Bill Johnson's sniper perch. Sam wonders what the target could be, since the nearest buildings are barely visible through the heat haze on the far side of the bay. Just then the Fisher Island ferry chugs across Michael's line of sight, well within range. "I think I found his target," Michael murmurs. Well, okay, but how hard could it be to hit a boat?