At Valhalla, Wash and the Meta look at Doc and the piece of wall he's stuck in, upright in the field.

Washington: Come on, can't you get him out of there? He's just stuck in a few rocks.

The Meta just growls and crosses his arms.

Washington: Why can't anything ever be easy? Doc, I want you to tell me everything you know about the Reds and Blues.

Doc: You know more than me, I just got here.

Washington: Hit him.

The Meta hits Doc with his Brute Shot.

Doc: Ow!

Washington: You worked with them before. Do they have any hideouts, anywhere they go when they're in trouble?

Doc: I don't know.

Washington: Hit him again.

The Meta hits Doc again.

Doc: Ow!

Washington: Did Simmons say where Cal, Sarge and Grif were? You can either answer me, or I can have the Meta beat it out of you. Or, I can beat it out of you. I think I've earned it.

Doc: Man, you guys are really awful at the Good Cop/Bad Cop thing. You're like, Bad Cop and Even Worse Cop.

Washington: Tell you what Meta, let's just shoot him in the chest, see if we can pull the audio logs out of his helmet.

Doc: Uh-ah- he said something about a distress call!

Washington: Hit him again.

The Meta levels his weapon to do so again.

Doc: And sand! H-he mentioned sand!

Washington: Sand...

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

At the desert, the Reds are spying on Epsilon and Caboose from nearby.

Epsilon: (to Caboose) Alright, well, let's go then. I actually thought it would take longer to convince you. Come on. I wanna get to the facility before nightfall.

Sarge: Facility, eh? I knew the Blues were up to somethin'. Come on men, let's get after those Blues! Sounds like this is the big opportunity we've been waitin' for.

Grif: You mean our opportunity to find a place to hole up until this all blows over?

Simmons: Some place that isn't a desert?

Sarge: No! A place to finally restore the Blues to Command's database. Get yer typing fingers ready Simmons!

Simmons: (sigh) Okay, I'll bring my carpal tunnel braces.

Sarge: If we're going to follow them we'll need a vehicle.

Grif: Well I'm sure we can grab another one from the camp down there.

Simmons: Why do we need a vehicle, the Blues are walking. I'm sure we can keep up with them on foot.

Grif: On foot?!

Sarge: Uh, Simmons? We're the Reds. We don't walkanywhere. We travel as the good Lord intended: in the largest possible vehicle with the maximum horsepower allowed by local law enforcement. And if there's no cars available, we find the biggest, nastiest, meanest, land animal we possibly can, beat the crap out of it, and saddle that puppy up.

Grif: On foot. Shame on you Simmons. Shame on you.

Simmons: Sorry.

Sarge: Let's just forget you ever mentioned it.

Grif: I think this should go on his permanent record.

Simmons: Oh, just go get the fucking jeep jackass.

Meanwhile, inside the Elephant, Kan explains everything that happened with Epsilon-Delta and Epsilon's memories with Slade and South.

Kan: ....and after that, Church had taken control of himself again.

Slade: Hmm, I got a feeling I know what he's up to.

South: Then let's get moving. Wash and the Meta are gonna find us here if we stay any longer.

South tries to stand, but then immediately feels a wave of dizziness hit her as Slade sits her back down.

Slade: Easy, Nat. Rho, Delta, you have Epsilon and Caboose's location?

Delta: Affirmative. They are heading south-west.

Rho: They kinda got somewhat of a head-start.

Kan: May I advise that we take the Prowler, then?

Slade: Good thinkin', mate. Go get it while I stay and make sure she takes her last round of morphine.

Kan leaves to do so as Slade pulls out a fresh needle and extends his hand for South to give him her arm.

South: I fucking hate needles.

Slade: Yeah, well I'm not a fan of them either. Arm, please?

South sighs and extends her arm as he then injects the morphine into one of her veins.

Slade: There. Theta? Vitals?

Theta: She should be okay. For now, at least...

Kan then pulls up in the Prowler and Slade helps South up, leading her to the vehicle. Meanwhile, Tucker is still on the pillar, and watches the Elite Ultra and two Freelancers drive off.

Tucker: Hey, where are you guys going?! Wait! Gah, dammit! Hey guys, listen. I know you want your supercool piece of technology back. Those guys just took off. Probably to look for it. If you let me go, I can track it down for you, and bring it back. No? Okay then, forget it. Oh my God look, a next gen smartphone! Can you believe they'd leave that just layin' around?

The Elites turn to look, and Tucker jumps off the pillar and starts his Chopper.

Tucker: Fooled by the old prototype trick. Classic. Well, seeya bitches I'm outta here. What the- out of gas? Hey uh, you guys have any gas?

The Elites aim at Tucker.

Tucker: You know what? Fuck it, I'm just gonna run.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Somewhere in a jungle, Epsilon and Caboose arrive outside the facility.

Epsilon: Alright, I think this is it.

Caboose: This? This doesn't look like anything.

Epsilon: Yeah. It's not supposed to, that's kinda the idea. Come on, this way.

Caboose: Man. You really need to clean this place up.

Epsilon: Caboose!

Caboose: Coming!

Epsilon: Come on. Oh yeah here we go. It's this way.

Caboose: My this way or your this way?

Epsilon: There is no- it's the same this way. Okay yeah, this is, it. I think.

Caboose: It's a wall. We came all this way for a wall?

Epsilon: Caboose!

Caboose: Sorry.

Behind them on a tree, a screen comes on.

Caboose: It's a really, great wall.

F.I.L.S.S: Hello. This is a private facility. Visitors are not welcome. Please leave immediately. Or, we will be forced to take lethal measures, to ensure the safety of our property.

Caboose: That is great.

F.I.L.S.S: You have thirty seconds to comply, or die. Have a nice day!

Caboose: Sheila? Is that you?

F.I.L.S.S: No. I am the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System. You may call me Phyllis. It is a pleasure to meet you. You now have, fifteen, seconds to live.

Epsilon: Whoa. Dying sounds like a bad idea. Maybe we should leave.

F.I.L.S.S: Oh my, the Director. I am so sorry, I did not recognize you Sir. It has been such a long time since you have visited. You look very different.

Epsilon: Talkin' to me?

F.I.L.S.S: Yes. You are the Director of Project Freelancer, are you not?

Epsilon: Oh uh, yeah. Of course, that's- totally me. I just haven't been around because I've been, doing, you know... Director stuff. Can't really get into it. Secret project.

F.I.L.S.S: How may I assist you today?

Epsilon: Can we uh... Can we come in?

F.I.L.S.S: Certainly.

The wall opens in front of them.

F.I.L.S.S: Please watch your step.

Caboose: Kinda spooky in there.

Epsilon: Yeah... Why don't you go first?

Caboose: Me?

Epsilon: Well I mean, you're the one with, the gun, and everything.

Caboose: Yeah, but the tree seemed to like you best. Uh hey Sheila could you-

F.I.L.S.S: Are you speaking to me?

Epsilon: We're just kinda used to calling you, by that name? Um, maybe you should just answer him when he calls you that. Probably easier for you to change than it is for him. He's kinda dumb.

F.I.L.S.S: Alright. I will respond to that name as well. You are the Director after all.

Epsilon: Right. I am.