Kimble drops a bunch of forms in the mail and flips open his cell phone. He dials up a number. "Magnolia Arms," says the voice. Kimble asks for Fred Johnson's room. You know, if the guy doesn't even want to give the benefits people at Social Security his name, he just might be registered under an alias like John Fredson or One-Arm -- it's not always going to be that easy, Dr. Kimble. Nonetheless, the phone rings in a drab empty room, and we can see a half-empty bottle of whisky on the desk. That means One-Arm is dangerous. The receptionist tells him that Fred Johnson is not in his room. Kimble hangs up and gets another idea. He calls the hotel back and asks for Housekeeping and requests towels for Johnson's room. While Housekeeping busies themselves in the bathroom, Kimble hides in another part of the room. We flash back to the weird Cuban landlord telling Kimble that One-Arm is waiting for a package. Another flashback to Kimble spying that exact package under One-Arm's fake arm as he boards the bus for Savannah. As soon as Housekeeping leaves, Kimble searches the room, and since there's not much there other than the whisky bottle, Kimble comes across the package fairly quickly, inside a pillow. The postmark on the package is Charleston, South Carolina. There's a click from the hallway, and Kimble turns to see One-Arm pointing a gun at him. One-Arm knocks the receiver off the hook and dials 9-1-1, rasping in a very Christopher Walken voice, "I'm not wanted." The 911 operator says, "911, what are you reporting?" The tension builds, the operator says again, "911, what are you reporting?" and after more build-up of tension, we go to commercial.
Call me a wimp, but you couldn't make me see The Exorcist the first time around, and I sure as hell won't be seeing now that it's "scarier"!
The operator is still being patient -- "911, what is your emergency?" -- in a tone that sounds like "What is your problem?" One-Arm yells, "Help! He's trying to kill me!" and Kimble biffs him across the face with the package and manages to knock him to the ground. There's a bit of wrassling that goes on before Kimble pins him and puts his fingers strategically against One-Arm's throat. Not like he's going to strangle him, you see -- more like he's going to go with some sort of expert doctor move and administer a tracheotomy where one isn't needed. All television doctors know how to do that. "You can't kill me," gasps One-Armed -- that is, my closed captioning says he "gasps" but it's more along the lines of trying to talk when you're more-than-unusually constipated -- "I die, you die!" Kimble loosens his grip slightly and is rewarded with a left cuff across the jaw. Kimble grabs the package and runs out as One-Arm reaches for his gun. One-Arm discovers the empty box and gives chase. Cue the Trumpets of the Chase and throw the percussion in there just for good measure.