Poor Yusuf Qasim.
Years living peacefully in hiding, no problem at all. Till he has to spend 5 minutes with Bob and THAT IDIOT HARRISON, and then BOOM. His cover’s blown and he’s bundled unceremoniously off to some Homeland Security hellhole.
Of course, this is what happens when folk wander around shouting out every top secret aspect of the top secret plot for everybody in effing New York to hear. And Harrison surpasses even his own astronomical standards of stupidity this week, turning up yet again at Tennant’s office to announce to the entire building – “It’s about Yusuf, Darnell and the Jack of Spades!”
Why not shout it a bit louder, fella? I don’t think they heard you on Jupiter!
Bafflingly, Tennant still agrees to see him – why do people keep talking to this fool? – and gives him yet another name to add to the list, just to tangle up the plot a little more till Odyssey’s moron-in-chief gets arrested by Homeland Security himself. Hurrah! The longer they keep him, the better. Provided it’s at a sound-proofed off-screen site, far away from my tv viewing.
While Harrison is being locked up by the intelligence services, however, Peter is trying to avoid being locked up by the police, having got himself caught up in a little breaking, entering and murdering at SOC’s secret
lair data centre. The best way to keep your part in this type of thing secret is, of course, to tell your politician ex-lover all about it over your presumably tapped phone line (genius) and to be incredibly shifty about the wheelie bin you’ve hidden your evidence in when the police arrive. Putting out your wheelie bin, taking back your wheelie bin, generally getting very agitated about your wheelie bin, that type of thing, while the extremely interested detectives sit outside your house watching your wheelie bin ballet. Smooth, Peter. Real smooth. I’m sure nobody suspects a thing.
As the New York storyline continues down its irredeemably silly path, then, the New York Times reporter heads off to Bamako to meet Odelle. But, because Luc is as annoyed with the story as the viewing audience and tries to have both Odelle and the show cancelled early, Odelle has already gone! Leaving nothing but a DVD and poor Shakir Khan as welcome gifts for Evil Frank….
Oh, Luc. I sympathise, I do. Especially since everyone else keeps making kamikaze “Hey, here I am! Here’s what I know! Come kill me!” calls to the baddies too. (I mean, FFS Suzanne! Or “Molly” as your dad inexplicably called you this week. You suddenly have some actual evidence of the conspiracy and you phone to tell the conspirators about it? Are you related to Harrison?) But the “Time to Die!” stunt with the phone is a bit harsh, non?
Not that it works, of course. As mon amour exaspéré points out when Odelle and Aslam turn up on his desert doorstep again: “Everywhere you go, people die. But you don’t. Why is that? Why do they always miss you, huh?” Ah, mon cher. You noticed that too, then?