He merely says that what happened on the plane might be more than simple terrorism. "'Simple' terrorism?" she says. He reaches into his briefcase for a file, and tells her in the past nine months there have been three-dozen authenticated incidents like the Hamburg flight, including:

John Thompson, a kid who went missing ten years ago, just turned up halfway around the world. Hadn't aged a day. What's more, almost fifty other kids who went missing that same year have the exact same story.

Fishermen in Sri Lanka report a low-flying airplane emitting a high-pitched frequency that blows out all their windows. An hour later, in the same spot, a massive earthquake triggers a tidal wave that kills 83,000 people.

But wait, there's more! A woman wakes from a coma and starts rattling off numbers that turn out to be real-time co-ordinates of their aircraft carriers in the Pacific, information that's classified "above top secret." He asks her to come work for him, and she reacts to a job offer by angrily stomping outside.

Broyles chases after her, saying that they're calling this "the pattern," because it looks like someone is experimenting, only using the whole world as a lab. I'm unclear how the word "pattern" arose as a result of that, but I suppose Broyles couldn't say, "they're calling this 'the pattern' because J.J. Abrams thinks it sounds cool and he has no idea what to do with it yet but he makes us shitloads of money."

He steamrolls her protests and says she can have whoever and whatever she wants to get her job done, and starts talking about all the people around them going about their daily business and having no idea what's going on. Well, it's not for a lack of government agents discussing it openly in public, that's for sure. Olivia says she wants to go back to before. "Dunham. I don't think you can," he says. She walks away, Broyles glaring after her. Dammit, Lance Reddick needs this! Don't fuck this up for Lance Reddick!

Another science montage. I think I've got the division of labor figured out: Olivia takes care of looking forlorn, Peter has the crossing-arms-and-brooding under control, and Walter does all the actual work. On his bed, John's skin is already looking better. It's just kind of veiny now. Suddenly he inhales, and Walter calls for Olivia, who's elated he's awake. "I had a dream about you," he says. Olivia laughs and they make goo-goo eyes at each other for three hours or so.