Alas, no. Alda smugs some more: "Your partner is right about one thing. I commune with some very dangerous people. I'm friends with those willing to don suicide vests in the name of ideology. I know when a man is willing to sacrifice anything for his cause. And you're not that kind of man, Agent Benford." Really? Because Mark sacrificed a hell of a lot of integrity last week liberating that Nazi, and he's just proven himself willing to spend four minutes of his life with you. He'll never get those minutes back! And sadly, neither will we. Alda continues her goading with, "Even if you start asking the right questions, you're not willing to do what it takes to get the answers. You're that little boy, Agent Benford, alone in the dark." Oh, how I weary of the TV convention of smart criminals -- especially since these sinister brainiacs can never answer the question, "If you're so goddamned smart, why didn't you get away?" The lawbreaking underworld is not exactly filled with lots of Dr. Dooms in training. Would that it were -- I myself tire of seeing men in business suits at international gatherings and think someone in a hooded green cloak and a faceplate would be just the thing to liven up photo ops -- but it's not, and so I grow weary of this comic-quality villainess. Next scene!
We see Agent Gough at his desk, sighing deeply before tapping into the Mosaic project and typing the name "Celia." Surprise, surprise, there are a lot of results for that query. Before Al can spiral into despair or whatever, Mark comes into his office and asks, "Hey, Al, remember that hacker, Mister Cheeto Dust? Give him a call." Oooh, machinations are afoot! Al asks if Somalia's really that important, and Mark says, "Yeah. It's time I got out of the dark."
Ned Ned is just coming to and learning that he's got Addison's Disease. His first question is an entirely reasonable one: "Who's Addison?" "The one vaguely sympathetic character on Grey's Anatomy, since exiled to a ludicrous medical soap opera," Doctor Varley replies. Or perhaps he simply mumbles something about Addison being the cat who described the malady Ned Ned's suffering. Bryce refrains from pointing out that Olivia and her bias against using the future to diagnose in the now nearly killed Ned Ned, but he adds, "We should thank you. Your flashforwards helped us piece it together. If you hadn't told us what you saw, you might have died on the table." Ned Ned, who is still riding that sweet post-anesthesia high, slurs, "I wasn't afraid because I didn't need to be afraid. The future saved me." Bryce, who skipped eating a gun after seeing his flashforward, smiles in understanding. I smile because the show finally, finally elects to trust that we viewers will remember little details like that from week to week.