At the Richmond farm, Jake readies his team as they all position themselves behind a single car.
Suddenly, Hawkins realizes that his satellite link is being tracked. On the computer, there's a WarGames-esque descrambler that's attempting to lock in on his code digit by digit. "Do you know who it is?" Darcy asks, frantically. Hawkins casts a brief look up at the board and guesses that it's Valente from Homeland Security: "I don't know who he's working for now, but he told Sarah to get the bomb any way she could and to eliminate all witnesses." Darcy stares back at him, terrified, realizing this is the first time she's heard about this. "All the witnesses," Hawkins repeats, nodding. "Shut it down!" she commands him. Hawkins can't and explains they just have to disconnect the feed before they complete the trace. As he says this, one digit of the trace clicks into place. Now, if he disconnected and reconnected, would the trace have to start all over again?
Dressed in blue scrubs and a very clean white T-shirt, Heather wakes up on a hospital gurney. In what seems like a continuous shot, she slowly walks through some thick plastic curtains and steps out into the bright sunlight of a military camp. And it actually looks like a real military camp, because they've got a flagpole and everything. Still with the continuous shot, the camera pans up to show how far the camp appears to extend. It's far. Fatigues are running around, jumping into jeeps and shouting orders. We're told she's at Camp Liberty in southwest Nebraska. A few CH-47 Chinooks buzz in from above. Heather looks around in complete bewilderment. I feel you, babe.
At the pass, where Jake has his team near the Richmond farm, the waiting begins. The car is sandbagged to block gaps. Even Emily is there with her gun, her hair expertly done up in a French twist. Jake peers through his binoculars and sees a few men come around the bend. The men stop. "I don't get it," Eric comments, "Why are they just standing there?" I don't get it -- why aren't you shooting at them? Those guys are what is known as "bullet fodder." As the dumb-ass Jerichoians sit around with their guns up their butts, a big ol' truck barrels into view. SHOOT THE TRUCK! TAKE OUT THE TIRES! Still Jake does nothing. More trucks show up. Jake grabs his gun and aims. But that's all he does. New Bern men clamber out of the trucks and scramble into position, aiming their own guns. Still Jake does nothing. What is this -- the Revolutionary War? Is he really waiting until he can see the whites of their eyes? More aiming from both sides. Eric mutters out of the corner of his mouth, "I think we're gonna need that tank." New Bern fires. At the ground. Several feet in front of the sandbagged car. Oh wait, some bullets actually make it to the car and shatter the windows. Jake and Eric take cover without firing a single shot.