Harry paced around outside the imaging chamber.

"You're gonna wear his feet out," Al commented.

"How can you be so calm?" Harry spat, marching up to him and standing just off his bow.

Al bent himself back a little to clear Harry's personal space, refocusing his attention on the monitor in front of him. "There's nothing we can do right now. We have to wait until he gets to her apartment."

"She could be dead by then!"

Al simply looked into the panicked man's eyes and nodded.

Harry stared for a moment, then felt some of his more useful cop instincts kick in in the form of critical reasoning. "How did he get into my body in the first place?"

"What?"

"How did I get here? What mechanism did he use to change places with me?"

Al jerked a thumb over his shoulder, trying to seem dismissive. "It's a jumpchamber over there somewhere. It's not functioning right and we don't think it even works anymore."

Another useful cop instinct woke up in Harry's head... his finely tuned Bullshitometer. "How does it work?"

Al shrugged, trying to pretend not to sneak a glance at Harry's face.

"Then how do you intend to get Dr. Beckett home? I mean, I assume that's one of your goals, right?"

Al finally straightened up, addressing the detective directly and with emphasis. "I do not know how the whole jump thing works."

Harry nodded, his brow crossing as he appeared to accept and digest that. Secretly, he took a peek at Sam's progress in New York. Madison Square Park. He was close.

Close enough for Harry to make his move. Pointing clear eyes at Al, he spoke in a voice that wasn't his.

"You may not, but the person who built it does."