This is the week of the chin – good ol’ Bruce Campbell gets a little more screen time as he helps Michael in his quest to learn more about dreadful Carla. In other news, we are helping to rescue a Russian girl who has fallen into the hands of Russian mafia guys. Her slightly-psycho sister Katya (the client, courtesy of Michael’s brother Nate) is not a woman I’d get on the wrong side of.
The files obtained from Waseem last week tell us that Carla worked as an irrigation consultant in Kurdistan. There is a good chance she’s using the same cover in Miami – after all if you’ve had to become an expert in irrigation (or chickpeas), you might as well use it.
And so, the lovely Sam is sent to wine and dine Harvey Gunderson, secretary treasurer of the Agricultural Association of South Florida and get a list of irrigation consultants working in the Miami area. Unfortunately for Michael’s cash reserves and Sam’s liver, Harvey has quite an appetite (not to mention – thirst) for the good life. The first meal alone costs $600. As Sam says when he presents the bill to Michael, “What can I say? The guy ate like it was his last meal. And the liquor? I’ve had gun shot wounds hurt less than this hangover…” – before using a cold tub of yoghurt to soothe his brow (strangely sexy).
In the end, Sam has to threaten Harvey’s ambition to become president of the association to get the information he wants. I particularly enjoyed his swift waving around of his ‘DEA’ badge.
Client of the week Katya is a real firecracker. When the mafia guy doubled the price for her sister’s release she hit the guy with a crowbar – and would have bitten his fingers off it wasn’t for his bodyguards. You go girl!
The initial plan to track the guy to the house where the girls are (“hopefully before Katya gets her hands on a blow torch”), is a washout. Ivan doesn’t go anywhere near the girls. Cue Plan B – snatch Ivan and interrogate him under the guise of an official agency to get the location of the girls. Fi gets to bag Ivan – she lures him in by dropping a pair of undies from her shopping bag, but unfortunately he blocks her attempt to use a stun gun on him. After a brief tussle, Fi gets the gun back in her hand – unfortunately, Ivan has hold of her leg. Does this stop her zapping him? Does it hell, she knocks him out and herself too, leaving Sam to mop up the bodies.
I love Sam’s boyish enthusiasm for setting up their ‘secret facility’ in a disused cement factory and interrogating Ivan. As Michael explains (and I hope that someone in authority is listening to this) “The fact is torture is for sadists and thugs. It’s like getting groceries with a flamethrower – the fact is it doesn’t work.” Unfortunately even Sam’s expertise can’t pry a word out of Ivan – who is “gulag tough” – and time is running out. So Michael has to become Ivan’s prison buddy. It is apparently “unfortunate but true that no make-up can simulate blood and bruises well enough to stand up to close observation”. So where will Michael get his cuts and bruises? Courtesy of Fi who lands a couple of hefty punches on his face (and, unexpectedly, brother Nate dealing with a little sibling rivalry).
A bit of a fight (and by the way you have to fight like a Russian not an American) and accusations of treachery soon have Ivan bonding with Sergei (aka Michael). Unfortunately this isn’t enough to help them find the girls either. The only solution is to stage an escape and get Ivan to take Michael to the girls (now that he believes the operation is about to be rolled up by the CIA). Bingo! And with the added bonus that Ivan meets a sticky end courtesy of big boss Takarov.
Things to love this week:
- Fi calling Sam “Daddy”.
- Fi ‘borrowing’ a thermal imaging camera from the neighbour who’s been using it to spy on her in her apartment.
- Sam dancing to some hardcore dance music.
- Sam, Sam and Sam.
- Madeline (trying to get Michael to treat Nate better) telling Michael that Nate’s first word was “Michael”. Mike corrects her and says “It was juice. I was there. It was juice.”
- Michael’s $1350 finally gets him a PO box number for Carla. Which means surveillance, because “intelligence gathering isn’t all running around with a gun and a spy camera. When the operation demands it you get to sit in a hot car with no air conditioning. In downtown Miami.”
Posted by Jo the Hat