With Sekou having been identified as the driver of the van containing the bomb, his family is being investigated by the FBI, so Carrie leaves her apartment to provide them with assistance. In order to do so, though, she needs to provide Franny with a babysitter. The only person available is Quinn; now, with the benefit of hindsight, it might be that it wasn’t ideal to put the former soldier with PTSD, mobility difficulties, a paranoid streak a mile wide, and no apparent childminding experience, in that situation. Still, live and learn. And, on the bright side, if Quinn’s told to protect someone he’ll protect them. Which becomes necessary when, with Franny’s regular babysitter Latisha now inside, word leaks that Carrie’s advocacy organisation was responsible for the release of the man who’s just bombed NYC. The media and a handful of demonstrators turn up outside Carrie’s apartment, and Quinn sees it as his job – reasonably enough – to stop them getting to Franny and Latisha. One should probably deplore the fact that he throws a doorstepping journalist down the stairs, and shoots someone who threw a brick through Carrie’s window. Bad Quinn. The immediate consequence, though, is that the police are convinced that Quinn is holding Franny and Latisha hostage, and surround the apartment.
In the meantime, the President-elect is whisked to a safe house and not allowed to contact her staff, watch TV, or speak to anyone apart from Dar Adal. The show perhaps labours the point that she’s essentially a hostage, but nonetheless it’s a fair point effectively made: Dar is controlling the flow of information to Keane, and makes sure that she’s aware the person who secured the release of Sekou is a former CIA agent named – ahem, Madam President-Elect, are you getting this? – Carrie Mathison. Dar then debriefs Saul, who explains the significance of the cigarette packet he picked up a couple of episodes ago: long story short, it’s evidence that his interview with Nafisi might have been set up by the Mossad.
Meantime Carrie discovers that the evidence which got Sekou out wasn’t leaked by her contact, then is told that there’s a hostage situation at her apartment. Oh for eff’s sake, Quinn, she doesn’t quite say, but when she gets back she tries to explain to the FBI that Quinn’s just protecting her daughter and there’s no need to storm in. They don’t see things the same way, although when one of their number drops in through a skylight and finds himself disarmed by Quinn and trussed up in five seconds flat they start to see the value of Carrie’s earlier suggestion that she might be allowed to talk to him. He just about manages to tell her that he has proof that someone across the road is up to no good when the FBI comes through the door and takes him away. Once everything has calmed down, though, Carrie takes a look at his mobile phone and sees that he perhaps has a point. So if Sekou was set up, not coincidentally by someone living across the road from Carrie, cui bono? It’s so obviously the handiwork of Dar Adal working with the Mossad that, with seven episodes still to go, it surely can’t be him and them?
Anyway. I could argue that the way in which the “hostage” situation at Carrie’s escalated so quickly was somewhat unconvincing, and that in any event it would have been defused had Carrie been allowed to speak to Quinn in the first place, but this is drama not documentary, and as Homeland episodes go this was one of the more thrilling ones.