...back down to the Sit Room, where DJ Fresh Fitz talks jargonistically about the rescue plan. Helicopters. Guns. "The CIA wet team," whatever that is. Leo asks how long they have to get the whole thing done, and Fitz tells them, "Forty-seven minutes to get there, from the President's 'go' order. That's radio silence. Two hours to get it done." POTUS wants to know, "Why the CIA wet team? We're not near water." But he's quickly set straight by Fitz's response, "We call it the wet team because it's bloody." Ugh. "I had to ask." Exactly. ["Plus, Mr. President, Glark and I -- neither of whom have any ties to the military or intelligence communities -- knew the answer to the question you posed. Please watch 24 sometime, because that was some weak and implausible exposition." -- Wing Chun] POTUS asks what the operation is called, and we learn with him that it's "Task Force Dawn Sky." A dramatic pause precedes POTUS offering a "go." At least it's not called "Operation Wet Team." I'm not sure I can stand hearing those words again.
Winnie finds Will in a busy outer office and hands him what they've got so far. Will wants to know, "Where's everyone else?" and he finds out that they asked Winnie to bring it to him. Will asks if they're scared of him, and Winnie deadpans a simple "Yes." Will walks a few steps away, stopping to ask Winnie, "What did Cassie mean when she said, 'Your sister was right about you'?" Oh, sorry. She wasn't a Lauren. She was a Cassie. Meh. Will takes one look at the notes and objects to the words "redistributed tax plan," which he hates. He doesn't like that the notes are all numbers numbers numbers, and Winnie hops in to say that she called him a "hard-ass." She calls him "Willie" to piss him off on purpose and get his attention to offer a little speech that sounds much as follows: "Sputnik crashed down on your head overnight. You were concentrating on one speech and suddenly you're deputy director. And the director's a continent away and the speechwriting staff quit." Will frets, trapped in a attack of not-entirely self-pitying conscience, "Because of me." No, Winnie argues, "because they're idiots. And then the tax plan's out two days early, and you weren't here for the nine months before, so you're cramming it. And you're taking it all out on four defenseless interns who, by the way, think that Sputnik's crashed on their heads, too." What an impassioned recap. But, Sputnik? Is there a more antiquated reference? Why not just say that "the Hindenberg" crashed down? Or one of those propeller airplanes with the giant wings in those early Wright Brothers filmstrips that move just a leeetle too fast? Or...oh, forget it. Anyway, Will relents and says that he'll "make notes" on what Winnie's given him. Will takes a moment to look around the office and walks toward a glass-paned wall. He rests his fingertips gently on said glass, and the unsecured panel tips forward and smashed into a million pieces on the floor. That was such a leftover Sports Night visual gag I can't believe Guillaume himself didn't just walk over from obscurity to point and laugh.