Archer

Another win for the greatest spy on Earth.

Lana? Win toast?

It's nine o'clock in the morning.

Yeah, and champagne is, like, the breakfast of alcohols.

Congratulations, team.

Your success has given your company great buzz.

"Roomful of bees" buzz.

Bees with buzz cuts.

- Swarming Buzz Aldrin. - That's a lot of buzz.

And Robert's sizable donation

to the environmental fund didn't hurt.

Arguably, it did most of the work.

That's a heavy check doing some heavy lifting.

- But still. - Great buzz.

I notice you say "buzz,"

but we hired you for "job offers."

Don't worry, you are top of mind

for many stakeholders.

You just need a splashy success.

Not that this wasn't a success.

But it was a normal success.

- And now we get splashy. - Cannonball!

I'm sorry, saving an entire plane

from hijackers isn't splashy?

Buzz is also saying that was like 80...

- Uh, 85. - Percent an accident.

That last 15% was all me.

Uh, sorry...

All me with an assist from my supporting cast.

- Ugh. - Anyway,

keep up the good work!

And remember: Leap without a net.

Alton, where's your parachute?

- Oh, boy. - If my head wasn't attached...

Useless.

Speak of the devil.

Guys, I found something amazing.

I was re-organizing our old filing system

and discovered we have an open contract.

Something about ongoing service

for "high sensitivity battery replacement" in London.

Oh, goodness.

I haven't thought about that in years.

So, you gonna...

Shh, shh, shh, I'm remembering.

- We talking beefcake? - This is a closed meeting.

Duh-doy.

Why do you think we wanted in here so bad?

Now give me dem deets.

- Fine. - The man is Cornelius Varma,

great grandnephew of the Indian Maharani of Travancore.

He had the physique of a tawny Adonis,

and the nimblest fingers you've ever...

- Okay, Mother. - We get it.

I'm referring to the way he placed bugs.

Jesus, I don't need to know what you call it.

Wait, why were you bugging the British?

- It was a different time. - 1812?

Cyril, you were saying?

Well, according to the case file,

if the batteries are replaced, the bug will release a code.

If we transmit the code

to the account where the money is held...

- Dolla dolla bills, y'all? - Bingo.

Not flying to England to change a battery for 20 bucks.

- It's pounds, Lana. - You know what I meant.

And I know how to finish my insults.

Jeezy Petes.

I just checked the battery bank account.

With interest, it's currently holding over a million dollars.

- What? - Oh, that's cute.

I think for this, you're going to need an assist

from someone who knows the territory.

Someone who, if need be,

can call on an important ally in a pinch.

And who's that, he said,

dread creeping into his voice?

Was the cat suit really necessary?

- For me? - No.

It's more for the public.

- Oh! - Ugh, still got it.

Thank you, Sterling.

And by it, I mean this image,

burned into my retinas till the end of time.

Lucky boy.

Geez, this place is as dusty as a... a...

A desert in a sandstorm?

My signed oath to do no harm?

Eleanor Roosevelt's vagina?

Aww, sad if true.

- Stop. - I would have had something.

Lana got in my head.

Not really a challenge.

- Pardon me. - Delivery for Lana Kane?

Damn it, Krieger,

I thought you told me this place was secure.

I told you, or you thought I told you?

- Ugh. - Just leave them by the door.

- Right, then. - Nope, take them back.

If Robert thinks for one second

that a handful of glorified weeds

can make up for what he said to me,

he is more mistaken than...

You were for marrying him?

Ha! I'm back, baby!

- Focus. - According to our records,

the bug was still active

until the battery went out three years ago.

Since it was powered down,

there's a good chance it hasn't been picked up by sweeps.

So, here's how we retrieve it.

Sterling and Lana, you'll be making ingress...

I don't know if we'll have time for that.

Ugh, not what it means.

Through the second story window.

Cyril, you'll stay on the ground

and monitor the area for reinforcements.

Try not to eat anything important.

This is my last one forever.

You talking to us, or the ten bars in your pocket?

Pam and Cheryl,

you'll surveil from the square across the street,

blending in as...

Fancy English ladies.

My hat is huge.

You know, we British invented giant hats

as a way to temper an overly aggressive pigeon population.

- Wait. - Oh!

- Is that true? - Meanwhile,

I'll be in the van with Krieger,

running the entire show with immaculate precision.

- Just like the Rockettes. - Jazz legs.

Malory: Once you're in position...

Post coital.

Post ingress.

- Same thing. - It's not.

Krieger will jam the alarm system.

- What about the bug? - Some of my best work.

Not bad, Mother.

I modeled the breasts on my own.

Is it possible for you to just not?

Malory: And you'll be happy to know,

they're still a dead match.

I was happier before I knew.

So how do we get the code off the bug?

I whipped a little something up.

Sorry, do you have anything bigger?

Dude, this is ancient tech.

It doesn't interface with anything modern.

And the giant flashing lights?

Those are for me.

Got the code.

Good. Now rub the center

of my breasts to reactivate.

- What? - Sorry, the breasts.

I'm terrified of crossing a societal taboo

that exists for a reason.

Oh, my God.

- Was that so hard? - No.

You're not just some sugar-guzzling,

self-flagellater.

You're part of an elite spy team.

Case in point. I've got someone on approach.

He's looking right at me. Now he's waving at me.

And I'm waving back? Hello.

Oh, I think that went really well.

- No, no, no, no, no. - Bad news.

What is it?

My jamming of the alarm system

is itself being jammed.

It's a classic double jam!

So the alarm is reactivated?

Sterling, get out of there!

Oh, wait, now he's picking up a rock.

Yep, he's throwing the rock. Oh!

He almost hit that security camera.

And now I'm waving at it. Cheerio.

For once I feel comfortable saying that wasn't me.

Run, you dimwits!

Cyril, you were supposed to watch the street,

not your goddamn candy bar!

- I was. - And I... I didn't.

I put the candy bar away. It was a really big moment.

Well, thanks to you,

our next big moment is British jail,

which is probably pretty nice.

This day was going so...

Characteristically unwell?

- Ow! - Shit, did that hurt?

Get the suitcase, asshole.

- Right, right, yeah. - Of course.

We failed,

and Lana got punched by some sort of magician.

A suspect has been identified

in the late night break-in at number 10 Downing Street.

Darling, did you have to look straight on?

Like his profile's any better.

Malory, please.

It was a mistake any of us could have made.

Some speculate that the burglar is American,