Silent Chiquita pulls up at the Connor Compound. The Connor Crew piles out of the car, except for Cameron, sitting directly behind Silent Chiquita. "Do I need to kill you now?" asks Cameron. If ever Silent Chiquita wanted to speak up, now might be the time. But she stays silent. What looks like, from a ways away, Cameron pointing a gun at the back of Silent Chiquita's neck, turns out to be her handing Silent Chiquita a gun. Chiquita takes it, and Cameron gets out of the car. Chiquita sits there alone, wondering if she's ever going to get a line, or if she's doomed to be like Darryl or the other brother Darryl.
Back at the FBI, Ellison's bringing Agent Brassy in on the Agent Kester/George Lazlo thing, only she scoffs when Ellison says that it's not actually George Lazlo. You know, his whole "someone killed a bunch of people and also killed a plastic surgeon after getting him to perform surgery to make the killer look like George Lazlo" theory, which includes the killer then putting himself in the FBI database as Agent Kester. "To what end?" she asks. Also, who is he? "What is he," says Ellison, and Agent Brassy seems to be wondering if she should just call security and have Ellison tossed into Pescadero with the rest of the tin hat brigade. "What is he, that stands across from a man, after killing two other men within thirty-six hours, and when asked of his involvement, can not only lie, but lie well. And not only lie well, but not blink, or twitch, or perform one simple human reaction to the situation?" I don't know, Ellison -- an ACTOR? No, futuristic robot assassin makes much more sense. Either way, shouldn't you guys be saddling up just on the basis of someone impersonating an FBI agent? Well, that's what they're going to do, but not for the right reason, but because Ellison thinks "what is he?" is more accurate than "who is he?"
Back at the Connor Compound, John goes over Sarkissian's computer while Sarah watches over his shoulder. She starts to rub his neck, much to his annoyance. He explains that there are about a thousand useful files on Sarkissian's computer, each of which takes about five minutes to decrypt, and he's on number thirty-seven. "You do the math," he says. She tells him to let her know when he has something, and walks out, past Derek. He strolls in, and asks how John is holding up ("I'm all right.") Derek looks out the window, and says, "So, it's your birthday." John asks how he knows, and Derek says, "I celebrated your thirtieth with you." John smiles and asks how it was. "You got drunk as skunk," laughs Derek. He wants to buy John a beer, and John points out that he's underage, although I think if John's got a birth certificate he ought to get himself a nice legal 24-year-old's ID. Derek changes the offer to that of an ice cream, but insists John take a break from decrypting the files. "It's your birthday. When there's things to celebrate, they should be celebrated."