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Michael's old frenemy Larry is back, and he's brought Michael a hostess gift: the dead body of a cartel hitman, whom Larry killed under Michael's name, while stealing two million dollars from the cartel's boss. So now Michael's all wrapped up in that, and in addition to having Columbian drug lords pissed at him, he finds himself having to protect the idiot magician Larry got wrapped up in this, from both the cartel and from Larry himself.

Also in town? Michael's little brother Nate, and his wife. Yes, Nate married a blackjack dealer in Vegas, and he wants Madeline to come move out there. Which would solve a third of Michael's problems at a stroke, but of course Madeline hates the idea. And she's not crazy about her daughter-in-law, either.

Plus there's Michael's latest gig for Gilroy, which is to acquire six weeks' worth of private flight information. For once Sam isn't happy to help, although of course he does -- at first. But then he actually gets pissed at Michael for wanting to hand the goods over to Gilroy, and bails. And since Fi has already bailed on Michael after hearing a lot of horror stories about his shared history with Larry, Michael's got nobody to turn to when Larry leaves Michael in the breeze on the cartel operation -- except Larry. Which is just how Larry has arranged it. It even looks like Michael's going to rejoin Larry on the dark side to save his own ass from the pissed-off cartel boss. But then after Michael realizes (with help from Nate, of all people) that he's been played, he apologizes to his real teammates and gets their help turning the tables on Larry. Who once again escapes to annoy Michael another day.

And in the end, Michael doesn't give Gilroy all the flight data -- just the data on the one flight Gilroy was interested in, which Sam was able to figure out. Michael wants to know what's going to be on the plane, and Gilroy reluctantly tells him it's a biological weapon and a matching vaccine. Which Michael pretends to believe. Looks like he and Sam will have to figure it out for themselves after all.

Discuss this episode in our forums, then read some of Michael Westen's Most Useful Spy Tips!

"It's dangerous to say no to a spy," Michael VOs, over even more bikini porn than usual, since we're at a sprawling hotel pool. Again. "In a business where motives are questionable and loyalty is skin-deep, declining the wrong request can earn you a trip to the morgue. So if you're asked to soak in a Jacuzzi by a black-ops sociopath, who's paranoid about listening devices, you pick out your favorite trunks and wade in." Michael does indeed wade into this scene, finding Gilroy alone in the Jacuzzi with a martini. "Gilroy -- Black Ops Sociopath," the subtitles remind us. Michael gets in with obvious trepidation, and complains like he's a lobster being boiled. Gilroy says he wants to talk about their future. They flirt some, and Gilroy is still kind of grumpy about last week's failed operation. Michael blames Gilroy's plan for that, and promises to get the file as long as Gilroy doesn't saddle him with another partner. But Gilroy says the file has already been destroyed, although he's already dismissed his initial plan to kill Michael and get on with his life. Michael: "Thanks?" Now, as plan B, Gilroy wants Michael to steal flight data for every private plane in and out of Miami over the six weeks. Michael quits playing and simply asks, "What are you doing?" He says this is too risky to take on without knowing more. Gilroy refuses to share, as always, and frames his question thusly: "Do we have a future together or not?" Michael considers, and finally says, "Double my fee." Why not triple it, or quadruple it, since Michael always works for free anyway? Gilroy asks if that's the price of ignorance, and Michael says it's the price of privacy. Gilroy agrees to the arrangement. "Can I get out now?" Michael asks. Gilroy just smiles at him flirtily. I've been trying not to read too much into Gilroy's increasingly effeminate line readings and mannerisms -- the ones that can't just be written off as Britishness -- but then he totally checks out Michael's ass as he gets out of the Jacuzzi.

Back at the loft, Michael admits to Sam that he didn't find much out from Gilroy, and the two of them briefly descend into poker metaphors before Michael hits on the idea of checking with the Coast Guard. "How you gonna get in?" Sam asks, and Michael's smile makes him wish he hadn't. Specifically, Michael's plan is for Sam to have one of his buddies hire him as a temp so he can get the goods. Sam points out the problem with buddies: "You can't make them unwitting accomplices to a felony." I assume it's the "unwitting" part Sam's concerned about. Michael asks if Sam has a better idea. Tell Gilroy to pound sand? Sam agrees, "But I'm getting an itchy feeling." "You're sure that's from a moral dilemma?" Michael cracks, which is probably something he should have held back on. This discussion will have to be tabled for now, because they've just reached the landing, to find the Michael's front door is A) scorched around the edge (freshly scorched, that is) and B) ajar. "Deadbolt was cut with a blowtorch," Michael diagnoses as he and Sam both draw their handguns. They jump inside, and they're not going to be shooting anyone, at least not right away, because the first person they see is already dead, in the middle of the floor in a pool of blood. Good thing the place isn't carpeted. Michael goes to investigate, then whirls around when a voice above and behind him chirps, "Hey, pal! Sorry about the mess." There's his old buddy Larry, up on the loft railing, and I hope Michael plans to come up with a fix for this situation where anyone could easily snipe at him from his own balcony. Larry cackles at Michael, and pointedly says it's nice to see him, too. "And Sam, I also see you," he adds, even more pointedly. Larry acts hurt at the reception Michael gives him: "We do 20 missions on three continents and this is how you greet me?" Michael reminds us, "That was before you faked your own death and came back without a soul." Which cues the subtitles to remind us that this is "Larry -- Undead Spy." And I have to admit, Tim Matheson either looks better than he did the last time he was on the show, or his cadaverous appearance is simply less startling now. Michael reminds him that he last saw Larry through a sniper scope. Larry protests, "I am not here to kill you. He was. I saved your life." This will soon prove to be true only under Larry-logic, but for now, as he comes down the loft steps, Larry doesn't want to get into any more detail until they figure out what to do with the body. "How attached are you to that couch?" he asks.

Michael's old frenemy Larry is back, and he's brought Michael a hostess gift: the dead body of a cartel hitman, whom Larry killed under Michael's name, while stealing two million dollars from the cartel's boss. So now Michael's all wrapped up in that, and in addition to having Columbian drug lords pissed at him, he finds himself having to protect the idiot magician Larry got wrapped up in this, from both the cartel and from Larry himself.

Also in town? Michael's little brother Nate, and his wife. Yes, Nate married a blackjack dealer in Vegas, and he wants Madeline to come move out there. Which would solve a third of Michael's problems at a stroke, but of course Madeline hates the idea. And she's not crazy about her daughter-in-law, either.

Plus there's Michael's latest gig for Gilroy, which is to acquire six weeks' worth of private flight information. For once Sam isn't happy to help, although of course he does -- at first. But then he actually gets pissed at Michael for wanting to hand the goods over to Gilroy, and bails. And since Fi has already bailed on Michael after hearing a lot of horror stories about his shared history with Larry, Michael's got nobody to turn to when Larry leaves Michael in the breeze on the cartel operation -- except Larry. Which is just how Larry has arranged it. It even looks like Michael's going to rejoin Larry on the dark side to save his own ass from the pissed-off cartel boss. But then after Michael realizes (with help from Nate, of all people) that he's been played, he apologizes to his real teammates and gets their help turning the tables on Larry. Who once again escapes to annoy Michael another day.

And in the end, Michael doesn't give Gilroy all the flight data -- just the data on the one flight Gilroy was interested in, which Sam was able to figure out. Michael wants to know what's going to be on the plane, and Gilroy reluctantly tells him it's a biological weapon and a matching vaccine. Which Michael pretends to believe. Looks like he and Sam will have to figure it out for themselves after all.

Discuss this episode in our forums, then read some of Michael Westen's Most Useful Spy Tips!

"It's dangerous to say no to a spy," Michael VOs, over even more bikini porn than usual, since we're at a sprawling hotel pool. Again. "In a business where motives are questionable and loyalty is skin-deep, declining the wrong request can earn you a trip to the morgue. So if you're asked to soak in a Jacuzzi by a black-ops sociopath, who's paranoid about listening devices, you pick out your favorite trunks and wade in." Michael does indeed wade into this scene, finding Gilroy alone in the Jacuzzi with a martini. "Gilroy -- Black Ops Sociopath," the subtitles remind us. Michael gets in with obvious trepidation, and complains like he's a lobster being boiled. Gilroy says he wants to talk about their future. They flirt some, and Gilroy is still kind of grumpy about last week's failed operation. Michael blames Gilroy's plan for that, and promises to get the file as long as Gilroy doesn't saddle him with another partner. But Gilroy says the file has already been destroyed, although he's already dismissed his initial plan to kill Michael and get on with his life. Michael: "Thanks?" Now, as plan B, Gilroy wants Michael to steal flight data for every private plane in and out of Miami over the six weeks. Michael quits playing and simply asks, "What are you doing?" He says this is too risky to take on without knowing more. Gilroy refuses to share, as always, and frames his question thusly: "Do we have a future together or not?" Michael considers, and finally says, "Double my fee." Why not triple it, or quadruple it, since Michael always works for free anyway? Gilroy asks if that's the price of ignorance, and Michael says it's the price of privacy. Gilroy agrees to the arrangement. "Can I get out now?" Michael asks. Gilroy just smiles at him flirtily. I've been trying not to read too much into Gilroy's increasingly effeminate line readings and mannerisms -- the ones that can't just be written off as Britishness -- but then he totally checks out Michael's ass as he gets out of the Jacuzzi.

Back at the loft, Michael admits to Sam that he didn't find much out from Gilroy, and the two of them briefly descend into poker metaphors before Michael hits on the idea of checking with the Coast Guard. "How you gonna get in?" Sam asks, and Michael's smile makes him wish he hadn't. Specifically, Michael's plan is for Sam to have one of his buddies hire him as a temp so he can get the goods. Sam points out the problem with buddies: "You can't make them unwitting accomplices to a felony." I assume it's the "unwitting" part Sam's concerned about. Michael asks if Sam has a better idea. Tell Gilroy to pound sand? Sam agrees, "But I'm getting an itchy feeling." "You're sure that's from a moral dilemma?" Michael cracks, which is probably something he should have held back on. This discussion will have to be tabled for now, because they've just reached the landing, to find the Michael's front door is A) scorched around the edge (freshly scorched, that is) and B) ajar. "Deadbolt was cut with a blowtorch," Michael diagnoses as he and Sam both draw their handguns. They jump inside, and they're not going to be shooting anyone, at least not right away, because the first person they see is already dead, in the middle of the floor in a pool of blood. Good thing the place isn't carpeted. Michael goes to investigate, then whirls around when a voice above and behind him chirps, "Hey, pal! Sorry about the mess." There's his old buddy Larry, up on the loft railing, and I hope Michael plans to come up with a fix for this situation where anyone could easily snipe at him from his own balcony. Larry cackles at Michael, and pointedly says it's nice to see him, too. "And Sam, I also see you," he adds, even more pointedly. Larry acts hurt at the reception Michael gives him: "We do 20 missions on three continents and this is how you greet me?" Michael reminds us, "That was before you faked your own death and came back without a soul." Which cues the subtitles to remind us that this is "Larry -- Undead Spy." And I have to admit, Tim Matheson either looks better than he did the last time he was on the show, or his cadaverous appearance is simply less startling now. Michael reminds him that he last saw Larry through a sniper scope. Larry protests, "I am not here to kill you. He was. I saved your life." This will soon prove to be true only under Larry-logic, but for now, as he comes down the loft steps, Larry doesn't want to get into any more detail until they figure out what to do with the body. "How attached are you to that couch?" he asks.

After the credits, the answer turns out to be "not very," because Larry is already stuffing the bloody corpse into the frame and gloating about his technique. Sam notices the tattoo inside the stiff's forearm: a grim reaper haloed by six tears. Which apparently means he was a member of Santa Muerta with six kills to his credit. "A promising start, I guess," Larry admits grudgingly. Upon Michael's prompting about why a hit man is in his loft, Larry explains, "I think Juan Doe here would have preferred the term sicario." Thanks for the cultural sensitivity lesson, muchacho. Michael is not as thrilled to hear that a drug cartel is after him as you might think. Larry assures him that it's not the whole cartel; "So far it's only the guy who runs their cash processing center, Carlos? ...He wants his money back so he won't have to tell his boss." Sam sees through Larry's use of the passive voice and realizes Larry was the one who stole the cash in the first place. "Two million bucks," Larry grins. "You used my name to get close," Michael realizes, because it's not the first time Larry has used that MO. Larry smugly points out using the burned spy persona worked out pretty well. Yes, until he had to "save Michael's life." And we never do find out whether it was Larry or the late sicario who blowtorched the door. Anyway, a moment later, Michael has Larry on the overstuffed couch, pointing his gun at his face. Realizing his charm isn't working, Larry tells Michael more: he went back and tried to take out Carlos, just to spare Michael all this bother, but Carlos was gone at the time. "I killed four guys and he is angry." Sam mutters into Michael's ear, "Mike, I'm just gonna say it. There's room for two in that couch." Hey, you both walked in here with guns, Sunshine. Michael lowers the gun to Larry's heart, and then decides, "It's heavy as it is." Larry brightly offers his own solution: they feed the sicario to the sharks, and then Michael and Larry will kill Carlos, and Michael will get a new identity. Sam protests this lame solution, because Michael on the lam is simply not in the USA Network's budget. Larry impatiently assures Michael that he has the resources to make this happen: protection, guns, IDs. "You will be safe under my wing." Gosh, isn't Michael just in demand from evil men lately? Is Anne Rice writing this season or what? Larry slips Michael a business card, and gives him 24 hours to change his mind. "Someone has to clean this up," he adds on his way to the door. A close-up of Larry's business card includes such tidbits as "Since 1951" (a year when little Timmy Matheson would have been about three) and an e-mail that ends in "freeottermail.com," a clear reference to Matheson's portrayal of Otter in Animal House way back when the word "Belushi" didn't make you think of According to Jim. Michael only notices the new last name. Larry chuckles that he makes too much money to leave lying around, so he uses a fake identity to invest it. "There was this shoe salesman up in Buffalo. He was kind enough to fall on a knife and give me his." Exit Larry. Sam, mildly: "That guy sucks."

After the credits, the answer turns out to be "not very," because Larry is already stuffing the bloody corpse into the frame and gloating about his technique. Sam notices the tattoo inside the stiff's forearm: a grim reaper haloed by six tears. Which apparently means he was a member of Santa Muerta with six kills to his credit. "A promising start, I guess," Larry admits grudgingly. Upon Michael's prompting about why a hit man is in his loft, Larry explains, "I think Juan Doe here would have preferred the term sicario." Thanks for the cultural sensitivity lesson, muchacho. Michael is not as thrilled to hear that a drug cartel is after him as you might think. Larry assures him that it's not the whole cartel; "So far it's only the guy who runs their cash processing center, Carlos? ...He wants his money back so he won't have to tell his boss." Sam sees through Larry's use of the passive voice and realizes Larry was the one who stole the cash in the first place. "Two million bucks," Larry grins. "You used my name to get close," Michael realizes, because it's not the first time Larry has used that MO. Larry smugly points out using the burned spy persona worked out pretty well. Yes, until he had to "save Michael's life." And we never do find out whether it was Larry or the late sicario who blowtorched the door. Anyway, a moment later, Michael has Larry on the overstuffed couch, pointing his gun at his face. Realizing his charm isn't working, Larry tells Michael more: he went back and tried to take out Carlos, just to spare Michael all this bother, but Carlos was gone at the time. "I killed four guys and he is angry." Sam mutters into Michael's ear, "Mike, I'm just gonna say it. There's room for two in that couch." Hey, you both walked in here with guns, Sunshine. Michael lowers the gun to Larry's heart, and then decides, "It's heavy as it is." Larry brightly offers his own solution: they feed the sicario to the sharks, and then Michael and Larry will kill Carlos, and Michael will get a new identity. Sam protests this lame solution, because Michael on the lam is simply not in the USA Network's budget. Larry impatiently assures Michael that he has the resources to make this happen: protection, guns, IDs. "You will be safe under my wing." Gosh, isn't Michael just in demand from evil men lately? Is Anne Rice writing this season or what? Larry slips Michael a business card, and gives him 24 hours to change his mind. "Someone has to clean this up," he adds on his way to the door. A close-up of Larry's business card includes such tidbits as "Since 1951" (a year when little Timmy Matheson would have been about three) and an e-mail that ends in "freeottermail.com," a clear reference to Matheson's portrayal of Otter in Animal House way back when the word "Belushi" didn't make you think of According to Jim. Michael only notices the new last name. Larry chuckles that he makes too much money to leave lying around, so he uses a fake identity to invest it. "There was this shoe salesman up in Buffalo. He was kind enough to fall on a knife and give me his." Exit Larry. Sam, mildly: "That guy sucks."

Fi goes to answer her door, carrying a big glass of red wine and wearing slinky white lingerie. Too bad for her Sam walks in. "Hey, Fi," he says after a quick glance. At least Michael's right behind him, but he also only says, "Hey, Fi," in exactly the same tone. She complains about his not mentioning Sam when he asked to come over. "It's nothing I haven't seen before," Sam assures her. Michael gives her the news: "I have a body in the trunk of my car, and Larry's back." Sam adds, "Oh, and a cartel wants to kill Mike, if you can take Larry's word for it, which, you know, we can't." Fi says Michael should have shot Larry when he had the chance, but Michael doesn't want any more bodies until they can stash the one they have. Luckily, Fi's neighbor's apartment is being kept empty for a fumigation week. And they say termites are inconvenient.

In the neighbor's bathroom, Michael zips the hit man into a makeshift body bag and sucks out the excess air with a vacuum cleaner. "Preserving a corpse is not a frequent job requirement for a spy," Michael VOs as he and Sam duct-tape the seams. "But if you must, stashing a body is a lot like storing high explosives. Air, water, and heat are the enemy." So they stick it on ice in the bathtub, which will take care of two out of three. Fi, now properly covered with a t-shirt with "WANTED: A DECENT JOB" hand-lettered on it, rifles the body's wallet and IDs him as Justino Valverde. "Not an organ donor, in case you're feeling guilty." The subtitles miss an opportunity to freeze on the body bag in the tub with the words, "Justino -- Not An Organ Donor." They also have Justino's cell phone, which no one has been calling. Sam offers to take Fi and check out the home address on Justino's driver's license, while Michael hangs back to check out the phone. "I guess I gotta go by and alert my mom," he says. "Nate, too," Fi reminds him. Of course Michael forgot his brother's in town. He won't forget for long.

Over at Madeline's, she pours the champagne as Nate introduces us to his new wife, Ruth, a petite blonde given to overusing the word "amazing." Yes, I said wife. Michael is stunned, but manages to drink to "Nate and Ruby." After correcting Michael on his new wife's name, Nate lets Michael lead him into the dining room for a quiet convo. Michael asks Nate to keep an eye on their mom. Nate really doesn't want to, since this is basically their honeymoon. "You want me to subject Ruth to that right away?" Michael gets that, like, a lot, but says Larry's in town ("Dead Larry? The assassin?" Nate asks), and makes Nate take a gun from him. "Don't tell mom, she'll freak out." "I'm freaking out!" Nate hisses, but tucks the gun in his pants and tells Michael to check in frequently. And with that, Michael takes off, slamming the front door almost before Madeline is even done saying, "Michael, don't you dare!" At least he's not offended at not getting to be the best man.

Fi goes to answer her door, carrying a big glass of red wine and wearing slinky white lingerie. Too bad for her Sam walks in. "Hey, Fi," he says after a quick glance. At least Michael's right behind him, but he also only says, "Hey, Fi," in exactly the same tone. She complains about his not mentioning Sam when he asked to come over. "It's nothing I haven't seen before," Sam assures her. Michael gives her the news: "I have a body in the trunk of my car, and Larry's back." Sam adds, "Oh, and a cartel wants to kill Mike, if you can take Larry's word for it, which, you know, we can't." Fi says Michael should have shot Larry when he had the chance, but Michael doesn't want any more bodies until they can stash the one they have. Luckily, Fi's neighbor's apartment is being kept empty for a fumigation week. And they say termites are inconvenient.

In the neighbor's bathroom, Michael zips the hit man into a makeshift body bag and sucks out the excess air with a vacuum cleaner. "Preserving a corpse is not a frequent job requirement for a spy," Michael VOs as he and Sam duct-tape the seams. "But if you must, stashing a body is a lot like storing high explosives. Air, water, and heat are the enemy." So they stick it on ice in the bathtub, which will take care of two out of three. Fi, now properly covered with a t-shirt with "WANTED: A DECENT JOB" hand-lettered on it, rifles the body's wallet and IDs him as Justino Valverde. "Not an organ donor, in case you're feeling guilty." The subtitles miss an opportunity to freeze on the body bag in the tub with the words, "Justino -- Not An Organ Donor." They also have Justino's cell phone, which no one has been calling. Sam offers to take Fi and check out the home address on Justino's driver's license, while Michael hangs back to check out the phone. "I guess I gotta go by and alert my mom," he says. "Nate, too," Fi reminds him. Of course Michael forgot his brother's in town. He won't forget for long.

Over at Madeline's, she pours the champagne as Nate introduces us to his new wife, Ruth, a petite blonde given to overusing the word "amazing." Yes, I said wife. Michael is stunned, but manages to drink to "Nate and Ruby." After correcting Michael on his new wife's name, Nate lets Michael lead him into the dining room for a quiet convo. Michael asks Nate to keep an eye on their mom. Nate really doesn't want to, since this is basically their honeymoon. "You want me to subject Ruth to that right away?" Michael gets that, like, a lot, but says Larry's in town ("Dead Larry? The assassin?" Nate asks), and makes Nate take a gun from him. "Don't tell mom, she'll freak out." "I'm freaking out!" Nate hisses, but tucks the gun in his pants and tells Michael to check in frequently. And with that, Michael takes off, slamming the front door almost before Madeline is even done saying, "Michael, don't you dare!" At least he's not offended at not getting to be the best man.

Fi and Sam are parked outside a rough-looking apartment building, and Sam says that it basically sounds like a sicario frat house. Convenient, that. Fi notices all of the DIY security cameras around, with cables leading inside, which means interior cameras as well, because apparently the jefe is just that paranoid. "And somebody forgot to pay the gardener," Sam says. "Lucky us." As Fi climbs out and jumps the back fence, Michael VOs, "Sometimes, the least secure parts of a security system are the security cameras themselves. If leaves obstruct the lens because the landscaping hasn't been maintained, you can approach from a blind spot." And it doesn't hurt that in her earth tones and oversized sunglasses, Fi could easily be mistaken for a bug. She scuttles all the way to a junction box on the side of the building, opens it up, and does some tampering as the VO adds, "And if you get close enough, borrowing a video feed is as easy as stealing pay-per-view." So finally the VO teaches us something practical. Once she's back in the car, Sam's got the laptop booted up with that video feed already on the monitor. "This week, on Casa de Sicario, the killers sleep late and eat cereal for lunch," Sam says in his best TV announcer voice, which, since it's Bruce Campbell, is a very good TV announcer voice indeed. In fact, I think he probably reeled it in a little. Sam hands Fi the laptop for the first shift. "I have to go exploit a friend in the name of an unsanctioned national security operation and I don't want to be late." Whiner.

Later, he's still in his same clothes, walking out of some Coast Guard HQ and calling Michael to tell him, "That Gilroy bastard better be worth it." Michael's impressed that Sam already got the goods, but angrily waving a flash drive, Sam bitches, "I feel like crap about it... No more favors like this. And if your job goes sideways and blows back on my friend, you and me, we're going to have some problems, pal!" And then he actually hangs up on Michael! Wow, who would have thought Sam would feel so strongly about his close friend... uh, okay, so maybe he doesn't know what his name is.

Fi's back at home watching Casa de Sicario with popcorn and everything when Michael enters with the news that Justino's phone is too new to be of any use to their investigation. But the good news is that Michael is just in time to meet a new character. "I don't like him so far," Fi says. "He's kind of a sourpuss." Indeed, the guy on the screen seems to be pushing his guys around a lot. Michael seems to have trouble getting into the program, though; instead, he's all, "So, just met Nate's wife." Fi is also surprised by the news at first, but then says, "Good for him. Life is short, you gotta grab it by the--" Right then, Justino's phone chirps -- just as the boss on the screen is seen texting someone. So it looks like Michael is about to intercept a secret communiqué, just like he did when he was a real spy! Fi asks if it's in code. "Kinda," Michael says. "It's in Spanish." Fi take the phone as he defensively says, "Look, if it was in Russian or Farsi, I--" Fi translates, "What's taking so long?" She figures that the boss on the screen is the guy who wants Michael dead. Over a freeze-frame of the man's face on the monitor (H!ITG Carlos Gomez from Desperado and about 64 other things since then), the subtitles confirm that is indeed "Carlos -- The Guy That Wants Michael Dead." Fi says gleefully that in his text, he called Justino a "pendejo," which she translates as, "That's like idiot, but ruder." Then the text adds to hurry up with Michael, then finish the job at the Hotel Victor. "Sounds like Larry forgot to mention I'm not the only target," Michael says. Yes, and lucky for the other target Carlos only lets one of his sicarios out of the house at a time.

Fi and Sam are parked outside a rough-looking apartment building, and Sam says that it basically sounds like a sicario frat house. Convenient, that. Fi notices all of the DIY security cameras around, with cables leading inside, which means interior cameras as well, because apparently the jefe is just that paranoid. "And somebody forgot to pay the gardener," Sam says. "Lucky us." As Fi climbs out and jumps the back fence, Michael VOs, "Sometimes, the least secure parts of a security system are the security cameras themselves. If leaves obstruct the lens because the landscaping hasn't been maintained, you can approach from a blind spot." And it doesn't hurt that in her earth tones and oversized sunglasses, Fi could easily be mistaken for a bug. She scuttles all the way to a junction box on the side of the building, opens it up, and does some tampering as the VO adds, "And if you get close enough, borrowing a video feed is as easy as stealing pay-per-view." So finally the VO teaches us something practical. Once she's back in the car, Sam's got the laptop booted up with that video feed already on the monitor. "This week, on Casa de Sicario, the killers sleep late and eat cereal for lunch," Sam says in his best TV announcer voice, which, since it's Bruce Campbell, is a very good TV announcer voice indeed. In fact, I think he probably reeled it in a little. Sam hands Fi the laptop for the first shift. "I have to go exploit a friend in the name of an unsanctioned national security operation and I don't want to be late." Whiner.

Later, he's still in his same clothes, walking out of some Coast Guard HQ and calling Michael to tell him, "That Gilroy bastard better be worth it." Michael's impressed that Sam already got the goods, but angrily waving a flash drive, Sam bitches, "I feel like crap about it... No more favors like this. And if your job goes sideways and blows back on my friend, you and me, we're going to have some problems, pal!" And then he actually hangs up on Michael! Wow, who would have thought Sam would feel so strongly about his close friend... uh, okay, so maybe he doesn't know what his name is.

Fi's back at home watching Casa de Sicario with popcorn and everything when Michael enters with the news that Justino's phone is too new to be of any use to their investigation. But the good news is that Michael is just in time to meet a new character. "I don't like him so far," Fi says. "He's kind of a sourpuss." Indeed, the guy on the screen seems to be pushing his guys around a lot. Michael seems to have trouble getting into the program, though; instead, he's all, "So, just met Nate's wife." Fi is also surprised by the news at first, but then says, "Good for him. Life is short, you gotta grab it by the--" Right then, Justino's phone chirps -- just as the boss on the screen is seen texting someone. So it looks like Michael is about to intercept a secret communiqué, just like he did when he was a real spy! Fi asks if it's in code. "Kinda," Michael says. "It's in Spanish." Fi take the phone as he defensively says, "Look, if it was in Russian or Farsi, I--" Fi translates, "What's taking so long?" She figures that the boss on the screen is the guy who wants Michael dead. Over a freeze-frame of the man's face on the monitor (H!ITG Carlos Gomez from Desperado and about 64 other things since then), the subtitles confirm that is indeed "Carlos -- The Guy That Wants Michael Dead." Fi says gleefully that in his text, he called Justino a "pendejo," which she translates as, "That's like idiot, but ruder." Then the text adds to hurry up with Michael, then finish the job at the Hotel Victor. "Sounds like Larry forgot to mention I'm not the only target," Michael says. Yes, and lucky for the other target Carlos only lets one of his sicarios out of the house at a time.

Michael meets Larry at a park bench across the street from the aforementioned hotel, and asks him who this guy is. Larry explains that it's his front man, some hack he hired to drop Michael's name to the cartel guys. Michael is surprised that Larry's working with an amateur. "Amateur criminal," Larry corrects. "Professionally, he's a magician." His name is Jack Fleetwood, née Yablonski. "Sleeps with the manager here so he stays here for free," Larry adds. Michael is surprised he's still alive. "I was gonna take care of him later," Larry says, almost embarrassed. Michael gets another text en Espanolfrom Carlos, and Larry helps him out this time. "You have lived in Miami for how long?" Reading the message, he cackles at the first word. "It's sort of like an idiot but ruder...says he's sending some more guys over to clean things up." Right on cue, a bunch of guys with guns climb out of a black car up the street, about as discreetly as the aliens in Independence Day.. Larry says this solves their problem, but even if Michael felt like sitting back and letting a murder happen on his watch, he's not down with having the cops called in on something his name is attached to, even if he isn't. Larry reminds Michael that he's got that covered, with the whole new identity plan, but Michael's already running across the street to the hotel. Larry follows, because as amoral as he is, he's not going to let something bad happen to his man-crush.

Upstairs, in one of the rooms, a blond guy (Dash Mihok, looking way better than when I last saw him as the Alpha Male in I Am Legend) comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist. That towel takes the pressure off the subtitles; this way, the words "Jack Fleetwood AKA Jack Yablonski" don't have to hide anything. He answers the door, thinking it's his sugar mommy, but Larry and Michael bust in instead. "Hey, Michael, what's going on?" Jack asks Larry. "I'm Michael," Michael corrects. Jack thinks that means two Michaels, but still wants to know what's going on. Michael tells him to get dressed immediately, and Larry explains about the cartel killers currently right behind them. "Is this about those Latin guys you had me talk to?" Jack asks. "Didn't I just say I'd explain later?" Michael says impatiently. Larry checks the hallway, which now has "those Latin guys" in it, and draws his gun. Michael again lays down the law re: no more bodies, and Larry asks, "You got a better idea?" Michael asks Jack if the room has a pool view, which it does. So Michael whips off the bedding. He does have a way with a non sequitur.

Michael meets Larry at a park bench across the street from the aforementioned hotel, and asks him who this guy is. Larry explains that it's his front man, some hack he hired to drop Michael's name to the cartel guys. Michael is surprised that Larry's working with an amateur. "Amateur criminal," Larry corrects. "Professionally, he's a magician." His name is Jack Fleetwood, née Yablonski. "Sleeps with the manager here so he stays here for free," Larry adds. Michael is surprised he's still alive. "I was gonna take care of him later," Larry says, almost embarrassed. Michael gets another text en Espanolfrom Carlos, and Larry helps him out this time. "You have lived in Miami for how long?" Reading the message, he cackles at the first word. "It's sort of like an idiot but ruder...says he's sending some more guys over to clean things up." Right on cue, a bunch of guys with guns climb out of a black car up the street, about as discreetly as the aliens in Independence Day.. Larry says this solves their problem, but even if Michael felt like sitting back and letting a murder happen on his watch, he's not down with having the cops called in on something his name is attached to, even if he isn't. Larry reminds Michael that he's got that covered, with the whole new identity plan, but Michael's already running across the street to the hotel. Larry follows, because as amoral as he is, he's not going to let something bad happen to his man-crush.

Upstairs, in one of the rooms, a blond guy (Dash Mihok, looking way better than when I last saw him as the Alpha Male in I Am Legend) comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist. That towel takes the pressure off the subtitles; this way, the words "Jack Fleetwood AKA Jack Yablonski" don't have to hide anything. He answers the door, thinking it's his sugar mommy, but Larry and Michael bust in instead. "Hey, Michael, what's going on?" Jack asks Larry. "I'm Michael," Michael corrects. Jack thinks that means two Michaels, but still wants to know what's going on. Michael tells him to get dressed immediately, and Larry explains about the cartel killers currently right behind them. "Is this about those Latin guys you had me talk to?" Jack asks. "Didn't I just say I'd explain later?" Michael says impatiently. Larry checks the hallway, which now has "those Latin guys" in it, and draws his gun. Michael again lays down the law re: no more bodies, and Larry asks, "You got a better idea?" Michael asks Jack if the room has a pool view, which it does. So Michael whips off the bedding. He does have a way with a non sequitur.

Down on the pool deck below, it's totally the opposite of the kind of scene Gilroy favors. A lone woman sits on a chaise lounge reading a book, and is startled when a queen-size mattress drops into the pool in front of her. "I said a better idea!" Larry says, climbing over the railing above as the sicarios bang on the barricaded hotel room door. Jack wants to just climb over to another balcony, but Michael assures him it'll be safe if he hits the mattress, and Larry adds that they'll kill him if he stays on this floor. Which, just for reference, is the fourth one. Larry leaps first as Michael VOs, "The key to surviving a fall into shallow water is safely displacing your body's mass." Larry lands on the mattress, flat on his back, and then the moment he rolls off into the waist-deep pool, Michael and Jack jump together. "A flat surface floating on top can help absorb and distribute your weight evenly." Michael also hits the mattress, but Jack doesn't. "Miss the target, and you may as well be jumping right onto concrete." Jack's foot does the same thing on the bottom of the pool that Claude's did in the alley last week, and he comes up screaming. Larry and Michael haul him out, Larry remarking to the sunbather, "Crazy, huh?"

Yeah, just wait until it starts raining sicarios.

Back at Fi's place, she's pretty grumpy at Michael for bringing Larry over with him and Jack. "It's not like he didn't already know your address," Michael points out, and adds, "If I let him out of my sight, that's when he starts killing everyone." Which is an excellent point. Sitting in a bedroom chair with his broken and booted foot up on a stool, Jack clears his throat to ask if he can elevate it on the bed. Fi refuses as rudely as possible: "That is a Hungarian goose down duvet!" Jack's request is for an explanation. Michael sits down and slowly tells Jack what Carlos thinks happened: "We robbed him of two million dollars and killed four of his friends. We need to convince him that somebody else did it, preferably somebody who's already dead so the body count doesn't go any higher." What's wrong with Larry? He's already dead in at least one sense that we know of for sure, and probably more. Fi adds that they need to make it look like an inside job, to make Carlos think, "His own sicario, Justino Valverde robbed him." "And this is something you're hopefully really good at," Jack ventures, which, since he's new around here, is a fair question. Michael explains how they'll do it, which I won't get into since we're about to see it done anyway, and Jack seems to get it. "It's like an illusion!" he Gobs. On his way out of the room, Michael mutters to Fi, "I'm starting to regret saving his life." Fi follows him out, as Jack plaintively asks them if they're making a decision. The updated subtitles swoop in: "Jack Fleetwood, AKA Jack Yablonski AKA The Client." So the subtitles have decided, at least.

Down on the pool deck below, it's totally the opposite of the kind of scene Gilroy favors. A lone woman sits on a chaise lounge reading a book, and is startled when a queen-size mattress drops into the pool in front of her. "I said a better idea!" Larry says, climbing over the railing above as the sicarios bang on the barricaded hotel room door. Jack wants to just climb over to another balcony, but Michael assures him it'll be safe if he hits the mattress, and Larry adds that they'll kill him if he stays on this floor. Which, just for reference, is the fourth one. Larry leaps first as Michael VOs, "The key to surviving a fall into shallow water is safely displacing your body's mass." Larry lands on the mattress, flat on his back, and then the moment he rolls off into the waist-deep pool, Michael and Jack jump together. "A flat surface floating on top can help absorb and distribute your weight evenly." Michael also hits the mattress, but Jack doesn't. "Miss the target, and you may as well be jumping right onto concrete." Jack's foot does the same thing on the bottom of the pool that Claude's did in the alley last week, and he comes up screaming. Larry and Michael haul him out, Larry remarking to the sunbather, "Crazy, huh?"

Yeah, just wait until it starts raining sicarios.

Back at Fi's place, she's pretty grumpy at Michael for bringing Larry over with him and Jack. "It's not like he didn't already know your address," Michael points out, and adds, "If I let him out of my sight, that's when he starts killing everyone." Which is an excellent point. Sitting in a bedroom chair with his broken and booted foot up on a stool, Jack clears his throat to ask if he can elevate it on the bed. Fi refuses as rudely as possible: "That is a Hungarian goose down duvet!" Jack's request is for an explanation. Michael sits down and slowly tells Jack what Carlos thinks happened: "We robbed him of two million dollars and killed four of his friends. We need to convince him that somebody else did it, preferably somebody who's already dead so the body count doesn't go any higher." What's wrong with Larry? He's already dead in at least one sense that we know of for sure, and probably more. Fi adds that they need to make it look like an inside job, to make Carlos think, "His own sicario, Justino Valverde robbed him." "And this is something you're hopefully really good at," Jack ventures, which, since he's new around here, is a fair question. Michael explains how they'll do it, which I won't get into since we're about to see it done anyway, and Jack seems to get it. "It's like an illusion!" he Gobs. On his way out of the room, Michael mutters to Fi, "I'm starting to regret saving his life." Fi follows him out, as Jack plaintively asks them if they're making a decision. The updated subtitles swoop in: "Jack Fleetwood, AKA Jack Yablonski AKA The Client." So the subtitles have decided, at least.

Fi's at an outdoor bar with a skinny little Latino dude as Michael VOs, "Orchestrating a fake sighting isn't a job that calls for subtlety. It's not enough to dress an impostor in the right clothes." Speaking of which, I'm assuming that's only a copy of the shirt Justino was killed in, because the original was bloodier than a Saw movie. The guy asks Fi (with whom he is clearly smitten) how he's doing, and the subtitles identify him as "Fake Justino -- The Imposter." Wow, what were the chances that Fi knew someone named Fake Justino? Fi flirts with him as the VO continues, "You need to make grand gestures and attract attention to colorful details." So Fi makes a big fake deal of Fake Justino's fake tattoo to the bartender, and then loudly announces to the whole bar that "my friend Justino" is buying the round, having just come into a lot of money. Cheers all around. "Do it right, and witnesses will swear they saw a dead man buying drinks," the VO concludes. Just when Fake Justino thinks this is going great, Fi sticks some cash in his shirt pocket and tells him to take a trip to the Keys. "And burn the clothes," she adds. Hey, the shirt isn't that ugly. Fake Justino looks a little hurt as he leaves, but he'll live. Presumably.

Michael VOs as we see Carlos walking to his parked car, "Every class of criminal has his own set of fears. Usually the boogeyman lives in the mirror. Thieves triple-lock their doors. Embezzlers check their bank accounts obsessively. And cartel soldiers," he says, as Carlos tries and fails to start his car, "get the hell out of any car that won't start right away." Carlos is in the middle of trying to jump clear of the car -- which does not blow up -- when Michael appears out of nowhere and pins him to the side of it. "Michael Westen, good to meet you," he says, disarming Carlos handily and sticking a bill in his mouth. Yuck, who knows where that's been? "You think I have the money? That's all the money I have!" Michael yells. Carlos is pissed at Michael for robbing him but Michael insists it was Justino. "I never even heard of you until I got wind some cartel lackey wanted me dead!" Carlos doesn't believe Justino would betray, him, but Michael releases him and tells him Justino was spotted at a bar five hours ago throwing money around. "He's probably gonna blow town." Carlos seems half-convinced, and plans to go check it out. Michael threatens, "Trust the wrong sicario again, and time your car doesn't start, you might not be missing a spark plug." He tosses Carlos said spark plug and walks away. Always has to get in the last threat, doesn't he?

Fi's at an outdoor bar with a skinny little Latino dude as Michael VOs, "Orchestrating a fake sighting isn't a job that calls for subtlety. It's not enough to dress an impostor in the right clothes." Speaking of which, I'm assuming that's only a copy of the shirt Justino was killed in, because the original was bloodier than a Saw movie. The guy asks Fi (with whom he is clearly smitten) how he's doing, and the subtitles identify him as "Fake Justino -- The Imposter." Wow, what were the chances that Fi knew someone named Fake Justino? Fi flirts with him as the VO continues, "You need to make grand gestures and attract attention to colorful details." So Fi makes a big fake deal of Fake Justino's fake tattoo to the bartender, and then loudly announces to the whole bar that "my friend Justino" is buying the round, having just come into a lot of money. Cheers all around. "Do it right, and witnesses will swear they saw a dead man buying drinks," the VO concludes. Just when Fake Justino thinks this is going great, Fi sticks some cash in his shirt pocket and tells him to take a trip to the Keys. "And burn the clothes," she adds. Hey, the shirt isn't that ugly. Fake Justino looks a little hurt as he leaves, but he'll live. Presumably.

Michael VOs as we see Carlos walking to his parked car, "Every class of criminal has his own set of fears. Usually the boogeyman lives in the mirror. Thieves triple-lock their doors. Embezzlers check their bank accounts obsessively. And cartel soldiers," he says, as Carlos tries and fails to start his car, "get the hell out of any car that won't start right away." Carlos is in the middle of trying to jump clear of the car -- which does not blow up -- when Michael appears out of nowhere and pins him to the side of it. "Michael Westen, good to meet you," he says, disarming Carlos handily and sticking a bill in his mouth. Yuck, who knows where that's been? "You think I have the money? That's all the money I have!" Michael yells. Carlos is pissed at Michael for robbing him but Michael insists it was Justino. "I never even heard of you until I got wind some cartel lackey wanted me dead!" Carlos doesn't believe Justino would betray, him, but Michael releases him and tells him Justino was spotted at a bar five hours ago throwing money around. "He's probably gonna blow town." Carlos seems half-convinced, and plans to go check it out. Michael threatens, "Trust the wrong sicario again, and time your car doesn't start, you might not be missing a spark plug." He tosses Carlos said spark plug and walks away. Always has to get in the last threat, doesn't he?

At Madeline's house, Nate and Ruth are squared off against Madeline, wanting her to move to Las Vegas, and she's pretty pissed about it. "I am not some old woman that you can pack away into a retirement village," Madeline says quietly. Michael blunders into this argument just as Nate is saying maybe she should live "Someplace where spies and killers aren't crawling out of the woodwork every other week. Someplace safe." Clearly Nate does not watch CSI. Ruth brings up Madeline's future grandkids (still merely hypothetical at this point, I pray), and Madeline meanly mocks her use of the word "amazing." She's about to light up until Ruth protests. So she stomps out instead, barely sparing Michael a glance. Michael asks Nate what's going on, and Nate says he wants Michael's help convincing Madeline, and that she'll listen to Michael. "She never listens to me," Michael points out. Nate asks him to try anyway. "Give her a minute to cool down," Nate suggests. After hearing a door slam, Michael advises a day. As if time has any meaning on this show.

Michael returns to Fi's place, where Sam is working on the laptop while Jack is fucking up a card trick, repeatedly asking Sam, "Is that your card?" Sam shows Michael all the stuff they have for Gilroy: "Everything he needs to create mayhem in the sky for a month." Well, to be fair, I don't think the FAA would let it go on for more than a week or two. "And Chuck Finley didn't get this stuff, Sam Axe did," Sam adds. The upshot is that he doesn't want to give it to Gilroy. Jack is still doing his thing throughout all of this until Sam impatiently snaps, "For God's sake, man, it's the three of clubs!" There's a noise at the door, and they lock and load as Jack hobbles back to the bedroom. They know it's not Fi, since she only went to get food a few minutes ago. For everyone? Because if she was only feeding herself, she'd already be overdue. But it's Larry. He says he's been following Carlos, and directs their attention to Casa de Sicario on the laptop. "There hasn't been anything this good on at ten o'clock in a long time," he cackles. Oh, how meta. Sam and Michael watch Carlos running amok, yelling at his sicarios and hurling sofa cushions everywhere. "Justino's not in that couch, my friend," Sam cracks, and even Michael smiles at that. They both suddenly realize Larry's gone, and there are muffled noises coming from the bedroom. They burst in, with Michaels' gun drawn, to find Larry with his knife to Jack's throat and duct tape on Jack's mouth. I don't know why he's wasting his time with the whole hostage vibe when Larry could have already killed him before you can say Jack Yablonski. Larry says they'll dump Justino and Jack on Carlos's doorstep. He's yelling and waving the knife around, and Michael takes advantage of the gesture to shoot his knife hand. Jack scampers away and Michael retrieves the knife from the floor and hands it to Sam as Larry wraps his bloody meathook in Fi's Hungarian goose-down duvet. Not that there's going to be any payoff from that later. "Look, there's not gonna be any more blood!" Sam says. "Just as soon as your hand stops dripping." Michael says he needs Jack alive, to point Carlos to the money. "You think I'm giving up two million bucks now!?" Larry yells. "Yeah, I do," Michael says. Which I guess he can say, with his gun back in Larry's face and all.

At Madeline's house, Nate and Ruth are squared off against Madeline, wanting her to move to Las Vegas, and she's pretty pissed about it. "I am not some old woman that you can pack away into a retirement village," Madeline says quietly. Michael blunders into this argument just as Nate is saying maybe she should live "Someplace where spies and killers aren't crawling out of the woodwork every other week. Someplace safe." Clearly Nate does not watch CSI. Ruth brings up Madeline's future grandkids (still merely hypothetical at this point, I pray), and Madeline meanly mocks her use of the word "amazing." She's about to light up until Ruth protests. So she stomps out instead, barely sparing Michael a glance. Michael asks Nate what's going on, and Nate says he wants Michael's help convincing Madeline, and that she'll listen to Michael. "She never listens to me," Michael points out. Nate asks him to try anyway. "Give her a minute to cool down," Nate suggests. After hearing a door slam, Michael advises a day. As if time has any meaning on this show.

Michael returns to Fi's place, where Sam is working on the laptop while Jack is fucking up a card trick, repeatedly asking Sam, "Is that your card?" Sam shows Michael all the stuff they have for Gilroy: "Everything he needs to create mayhem in the sky for a month." Well, to be fair, I don't think the FAA would let it go on for more than a week or two. "And Chuck Finley didn't get this stuff, Sam Axe did," Sam adds. The upshot is that he doesn't want to give it to Gilroy. Jack is still doing his thing throughout all of this until Sam impatiently snaps, "For God's sake, man, it's the three of clubs!" There's a noise at the door, and they lock and load as Jack hobbles back to the bedroom. They know it's not Fi, since she only went to get food a few minutes ago. For everyone? Because if she was only feeding herself, she'd already be overdue. But it's Larry. He says he's been following Carlos, and directs their attention to Casa de Sicario on the laptop. "There hasn't been anything this good on at ten o'clock in a long time," he cackles. Oh, how meta. Sam and Michael watch Carlos running amok, yelling at his sicarios and hurling sofa cushions everywhere. "Justino's not in that couch, my friend," Sam cracks, and even Michael smiles at that. They both suddenly realize Larry's gone, and there are muffled noises coming from the bedroom. They burst in, with Michaels' gun drawn, to find Larry with his knife to Jack's throat and duct tape on Jack's mouth. I don't know why he's wasting his time with the whole hostage vibe when Larry could have already killed him before you can say Jack Yablonski. Larry says they'll dump Justino and Jack on Carlos's doorstep. He's yelling and waving the knife around, and Michael takes advantage of the gesture to shoot his knife hand. Jack scampers away and Michael retrieves the knife from the floor and hands it to Sam as Larry wraps his bloody meathook in Fi's Hungarian goose-down duvet. Not that there's going to be any payoff from that later. "Look, there's not gonna be any more blood!" Sam says. "Just as soon as your hand stops dripping." Michael says he needs Jack alive, to point Carlos to the money. "You think I'm giving up two million bucks now!?" Larry yells. "Yeah, I do," Michael says. Which I guess he can say, with his gun back in Larry's face and all.

Michael and Carlos are in the Charger, staging a stakeout of Jack, who's eating lunch on the sidewalk in front of the Hotel Victor, with Sam reading a newspaper at the table. So it's a fake stakeout. I'd just call it a fakeout, but that's already a thing. Michael has a parabolic microphone pointed out the window at Jack as he VOs, "The key to fake surveillance is delivering real boredom. If someone suffers for the information you're feeding them, they're much more likely to believe it." Michael refuses to share his chips, and Carlos whines about wanting to snatch Jack now. "How'd that work out last time for you, genius?" Michael asks, claiming that Jack is too protected to touch. Of course Carlos has no way of knowing that he's sitting in the main protector's car right now. He's about to call in a hit anyway, but as he's dialing his phone, Michael takes off his sunglasses and puts them on the dash. Of course that's the signal. And of course Jack misses it, so it's a good thing Sam's there as backup. He flaps his newspaper loudly. "Showtime, buddy," he reminds Jack. "Just read the script exactly the way I wrote it." Good thing parabolic microphones have such a narrow focus. So Jack pretends to dial his cell phone, and has a fake conversation with an even faker Justino, where they apparently arrange for Jack to pick up his cut of the cash Michael wants Carlos to think Jack and Justino stole together. "When Justino shows up at his meeting, he's gonna be so dead," Carlos says. Michael nods politely, but you can tell he's either filled with disdain at how behind the curve Carlos's threat is, or at its lack of imagination.

Across the street, Sam dials his own phone for real, and tells Fi, "If you've been procrastinating, you can't any more. We got the money in the trunk. Just waiting for Justino." From over Justino's shrink-wrapped corpse in her neighbor's bathroom, Fi tells Sam to tell Michael, "The time he asks me for a favor, I'm gonna ask him what it is before I say yes." Right then Larry comes in, nearly getting himself shot (and what a shame that would be), and says he's there to help. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you've never dressed a corpse before," he condescends. Fi doesn't want his help, but he warns that if this goes wrong because she screwed up, "Everybody is going to end up...very sad." Admirable restraint. He starts ripping the black shirt they're going to put on Justino, saying it's easier to stitch them in. Is it really? Maybe if one is better at sewing than I am. I'd just end up with the shirt sewn to myself. "Your mother must be so proud," Fi says. Larry, for reasons that will be clear later, decides to make friends, saying they have more in common than she thinks. "We both have certain capacities and certain appetites and that is how we connect with Michael." Undeterred by her empty insistence the he doesn't know Michael, Larry presses, "Sometimes you're just what he needs and sometimes he pushes you away." Well, he's half right.

Michael and Carlos are in the Charger, staging a stakeout of Jack, who's eating lunch on the sidewalk in front of the Hotel Victor, with Sam reading a newspaper at the table. So it's a fake stakeout. I'd just call it a fakeout, but that's already a thing. Michael has a parabolic microphone pointed out the window at Jack as he VOs, "The key to fake surveillance is delivering real boredom. If someone suffers for the information you're feeding them, they're much more likely to believe it." Michael refuses to share his chips, and Carlos whines about wanting to snatch Jack now. "How'd that work out last time for you, genius?" Michael asks, claiming that Jack is too protected to touch. Of course Carlos has no way of knowing that he's sitting in the main protector's car right now. He's about to call in a hit anyway, but as he's dialing his phone, Michael takes off his sunglasses and puts them on the dash. Of course that's the signal. And of course Jack misses it, so it's a good thing Sam's there as backup. He flaps his newspaper loudly. "Showtime, buddy," he reminds Jack. "Just read the script exactly the way I wrote it." Good thing parabolic microphones have such a narrow focus. So Jack pretends to dial his cell phone, and has a fake conversation with an even faker Justino, where they apparently arrange for Jack to pick up his cut of the cash Michael wants Carlos to think Jack and Justino stole together. "When Justino shows up at his meeting, he's gonna be so dead," Carlos says. Michael nods politely, but you can tell he's either filled with disdain at how behind the curve Carlos's threat is, or at its lack of imagination.

Across the street, Sam dials his own phone for real, and tells Fi, "If you've been procrastinating, you can't any more. We got the money in the trunk. Just waiting for Justino." From over Justino's shrink-wrapped corpse in her neighbor's bathroom, Fi tells Sam to tell Michael, "The time he asks me for a favor, I'm gonna ask him what it is before I say yes." Right then Larry comes in, nearly getting himself shot (and what a shame that would be), and says he's there to help. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess you've never dressed a corpse before," he condescends. Fi doesn't want his help, but he warns that if this goes wrong because she screwed up, "Everybody is going to end up...very sad." Admirable restraint. He starts ripping the black shirt they're going to put on Justino, saying it's easier to stitch them in. Is it really? Maybe if one is better at sewing than I am. I'd just end up with the shirt sewn to myself. "Your mother must be so proud," Fi says. Larry, for reasons that will be clear later, decides to make friends, saying they have more in common than she thinks. "We both have certain capacities and certain appetites and that is how we connect with Michael." Undeterred by her empty insistence the he doesn't know Michael, Larry presses, "Sometimes you're just what he needs and sometimes he pushes you away." Well, he's half right.

It's lunchtime at Madeline's, and Ruth is there with all three surviving Westens, not exactly endearing herself to Madeline with her cucumber allergy and her protein aversion. As Ruth gets up and leaves the table, Nate, with impeccably bad timing, decides to bring up Vegas again, and Michael surfaces from a well-justified facepalm to try to tell Madeline she might feel better someplace safer. "Like three thousand miles away safer?" Madeline brays. During this exchange, Fi has walked in unannounced wearing a green dress that doesn't feature a single scrap of men's black shirt anywhere on it as far as I can tell. She plunks a cucumber salad onto the table, but says she can't stay. She wants to talk to Michael alone. They go into the front room, and she tells him about her visit with Larry. Michael tells her not to believe everything he said. Except, you know, the part where they worked together for three years, because that part's true.. "After all you saw him do, I don't know how you can stay in the same room with him," Fi judges. "I can't be with you right now. If you need help with Carlos, you can ask Sam." And Fi heads out. Wow, if that's how hanging out with Larry makes her feel about Michael, imagine how she's going to feel about sewing.

At the loft, Sam announces, "Mikey, it's time to celebrate my genius." Setting up a portable lightbox, he says, "I was going blind futzing with all that flight data in my laptop." Sure, "flight data.." But going old-school is what helped him figure out which flight Gilroy is after. Sam has printed each flight plan on a separate transparency sheet and sorted them by date. When he stacks each date's flights on the lightbox, Florida and the entire Caribbean are spiderwebbed with plane routes. "It's like pick-up sticks," Sam says. "It's all crisscross. It's a big cluster. And every day is exactly like that except one day: the 22nd." And that day's flights show the usual cluster, except for one blank area bisected by a single red line. Which means government mandated clearance, which means a black flight. Which means that's what Gilroy wants. "And this is all he's gonna get," Sam declares. Michael protests that Gilroy asked for everything. And Sam gets pissed. He says that he, his friend (the nameless and faceless one at the Coast Guard, not Michael), and every person on all of those planes is on the line. "You want this data, Mike? You're going to have to steal it yourself, because I'm not gonna give it to you." He packs everything up, saying, "And if that makes me the Boy Scout that you and your friend Larry think I am, that's fine." Heading for the door, he refuses to help any more, "Until you get your head out of your ass." Michael yells his name as he tells him to call Fi if he needs backup with Carlos. Wow, so who does he call now?

It's lunchtime at Madeline's, and Ruth is there with all three surviving Westens, not exactly endearing herself to Madeline with her cucumber allergy and her protein aversion. As Ruth gets up and leaves the table, Nate, with impeccably bad timing, decides to bring up Vegas again, and Michael surfaces from a well-justified facepalm to try to tell Madeline she might feel better someplace safer. "Like three thousand miles away safer?" Madeline brays. During this exchange, Fi has walked in unannounced wearing a green dress that doesn't feature a single scrap of men's black shirt anywhere on it as far as I can tell. She plunks a cucumber salad onto the table, but says she can't stay. She wants to talk to Michael alone. They go into the front room, and she tells him about her visit with Larry. Michael tells her not to believe everything he said. Except, you know, the part where they worked together for three years, because that part's true.. "After all you saw him do, I don't know how you can stay in the same room with him," Fi judges. "I can't be with you right now. If you need help with Carlos, you can ask Sam." And Fi heads out. Wow, if that's how hanging out with Larry makes her feel about Michael, imagine how she's going to feel about sewing.

At the loft, Sam announces, "Mikey, it's time to celebrate my genius." Setting up a portable lightbox, he says, "I was going blind futzing with all that flight data in my laptop." Sure, "flight data.." But going old-school is what helped him figure out which flight Gilroy is after. Sam has printed each flight plan on a separate transparency sheet and sorted them by date. When he stacks each date's flights on the lightbox, Florida and the entire Caribbean are spiderwebbed with plane routes. "It's like pick-up sticks," Sam says. "It's all crisscross. It's a big cluster. And every day is exactly like that except one day: the 22nd." And that day's flights show the usual cluster, except for one blank area bisected by a single red line. Which means government mandated clearance, which means a black flight. Which means that's what Gilroy wants. "And this is all he's gonna get," Sam declares. Michael protests that Gilroy asked for everything. And Sam gets pissed. He says that he, his friend (the nameless and faceless one at the Coast Guard, not Michael), and every person on all of those planes is on the line. "You want this data, Mike? You're going to have to steal it yourself, because I'm not gonna give it to you." He packs everything up, saying, "And if that makes me the Boy Scout that you and your friend Larry think I am, that's fine." Heading for the door, he refuses to help any more, "Until you get your head out of your ass." Michael yells his name as he tells him to call Fi if he needs backup with Carlos. Wow, so who does he call now?

Well, at the time and place Michael arranged for him and Carlos to overhear Jack set up the meeting with Justino, Carlos and Michael arrive at the shore alone, so I guess he didn't call anyone. Michael directs Carlos's attention to a parked car off in the distance. They look through binoculars and see Justino inside, looking very, very sleepy. Good thing Larry didn't shoot him in the face. And another good thing? The fact that Michael decided to hold onto the body rather than getting rid of it, as if this was going to be his plan all along. Which I'm not convinced it was. Carlos draws a handgun and is about to go up and interrogate Justino. Of course Michael stops him, asking, "How the hell did you get put in charge of anything? We're not getting within a hundred yards of that guy. You don't know what kind of backup he has." He pops Carlos's trunk and gets out a big honking assault rifle that he stashed there himself. But Carlos wants to do the shooting, which is fine with Michael. Michael gives Carlos the gun and plugs his ears, and Carlos goes Bonnie and Clyde on the car. Better hope there aren't neighbors.

Afterward, Carlos is satisfied to see all two million in the trunk of the car. "So we're good?" Michael asks. "We're great, "Carlos smiles, holding a bill up to the sunlight. "Large amounts of cash present a huge temptation," Michael VOs as he starts to walk away. "To steal, to kill for, to counterfeit." Carlos stops Michael and says there's no security strip, and he thinks Michael switched it on him. Oh, Larry. Carlos is about to shoot Michael, and Michael talks fast, saying this isn't his fault. Which is true; it's actually Larry's fault. Carlos points out that it is Michael's fault he can't ask Justino about it. Yeah, that would also be Larry's fault, but Michael can't exactly tell Carlos that. So he offers to find the money himself. "You shoot me, it's gone forever." He sure is good at giving people reasons not to shoot him. I think that's probably his most important skill of all. Carlos gives Michael a day to find the cash, put it in the trunk of a car, and park it near the airport. "You do that, I take off the hit. If not..." and then Carlos shoots the fake cash full of holes. Look who's getting the last threat this time.

Walking away, Michael dials his phone and gets Fi's voice mail. "Fi, Larry swapped the money. I don't know where he is or what he's doing, call me back." He dials another number, but Sam doesn't seem to be taking his calls either. Just then, Michael does get an incoming call -- from Larry. Who actually claims he did this for Michael's own good. He starts talking about getting together, and Michael yells, "We meet at my loft in one hour! If you're not there, if you try to run, I will find you and I will kill you!" Michael can get pretty creative with the threats, but it's the classics that work best for him.

Well, at the time and place Michael arranged for him and Carlos to overhear Jack set up the meeting with Justino, Carlos and Michael arrive at the shore alone, so I guess he didn't call anyone. Michael directs Carlos's attention to a parked car off in the distance. They look through binoculars and see Justino inside, looking very, very sleepy. Good thing Larry didn't shoot him in the face. And another good thing? The fact that Michael decided to hold onto the body rather than getting rid of it, as if this was going to be his plan all along. Which I'm not convinced it was. Carlos draws a handgun and is about to go up and interrogate Justino. Of course Michael stops him, asking, "How the hell did you get put in charge of anything? We're not getting within a hundred yards of that guy. You don't know what kind of backup he has." He pops Carlos's trunk and gets out a big honking assault rifle that he stashed there himself. But Carlos wants to do the shooting, which is fine with Michael. Michael gives Carlos the gun and plugs his ears, and Carlos goes Bonnie and Clyde on the car. Better hope there aren't neighbors.

Afterward, Carlos is satisfied to see all two million in the trunk of the car. "So we're good?" Michael asks. "We're great, "Carlos smiles, holding a bill up to the sunlight. "Large amounts of cash present a huge temptation," Michael VOs as he starts to walk away. "To steal, to kill for, to counterfeit." Carlos stops Michael and says there's no security strip, and he thinks Michael switched it on him. Oh, Larry. Carlos is about to shoot Michael, and Michael talks fast, saying this isn't his fault. Which is true; it's actually Larry's fault. Carlos points out that it is Michael's fault he can't ask Justino about it. Yeah, that would also be Larry's fault, but Michael can't exactly tell Carlos that. So he offers to find the money himself. "You shoot me, it's gone forever." He sure is good at giving people reasons not to shoot him. I think that's probably his most important skill of all. Carlos gives Michael a day to find the cash, put it in the trunk of a car, and park it near the airport. "You do that, I take off the hit. If not..." and then Carlos shoots the fake cash full of holes. Look who's getting the last threat this time.

Walking away, Michael dials his phone and gets Fi's voice mail. "Fi, Larry swapped the money. I don't know where he is or what he's doing, call me back." He dials another number, but Sam doesn't seem to be taking his calls either. Just then, Michael does get an incoming call -- from Larry. Who actually claims he did this for Michael's own good. He starts talking about getting together, and Michael yells, "We meet at my loft in one hour! If you're not there, if you try to run, I will find you and I will kill you!" Michael can get pretty creative with the threats, but it's the classics that work best for him.

Michael sits on the steps to his loft, a wicked little knife in the hand behind his back, as Larry comes in the gate, waving his bandaged hand as a white flag. He says he couldn't walk away from two million, and when Michael demands it back, Larry offers to split it with him on one condition: "Kill Carlos." He says Michael is at a fork in the road. "This is not a tough call." Angrily, Michael yells, "Killing Carlos does not solve my problem. My name is in the air!" Once again, Larry offers Michael what he's been offering all episode: a new one. "You're a shoe salesman from Buffalo!" Michael yells. Yeah, and he got you good. Hands up, everyone who'd like to hear Larry do a voice-over on all the ways you can kill somebody with a Brannock Device? Larry says he has connections, guns, and a Nietzschean worldview, although he pronounces it as "the will to act on our instincts, to get what we want. And what I want is to work with you again." Yeah, we got that. "You know what's sad?" Larry adds, "I don't see anyone else stepping up to bail you out." Oh, ouch. "It's do or die time, kid. What's it gonna be?" Michael blinks, slowly and thoughtfully, VOing, "After a career spent doing bad things for good reasons, it's hard to say exactly where you draw the line. You might not know exactly until someone asks." Michael twirls the knife and tells Larry in a flat voice, "I'll kill Carlos. You take care of the rest." Whoa! Dark side!

That night, Michael sits in his loft, cleaning his gun. Nate knocks, and Michael lets him him. "There you are!" Nate says, like, where else would he be? But apparently Nate's been calling for some time, to see if he could help with Larry. "I left you three messages." Which is news to Michael. Examining his phone, Michael VOs, "Turning an asset is a multi-step process. You back them into a corner, you pile on stress, you create tension with the people they trust, and if you can cut them off from good influences so you're the only voice in their ear, they're much more likely to listen." By now, from the guts of his phone, Michael has unearthed a swapped-out SIM card. Yes, Larry tampered with his phone. Where does he find the time? The VO continues, "It's a formula that works so well, it even works on spies who ought to know better." Indeed. Even Nate is surprised that Michael thought no one was answering his calls. "Dad's dead. You're not in Afghanistan any more. I mean, when are you gonna learn there are people you can trust?" Not Nate, necessarily, but people.

Michael sits on the steps to his loft, a wicked little knife in the hand behind his back, as Larry comes in the gate, waving his bandaged hand as a white flag. He says he couldn't walk away from two million, and when Michael demands it back, Larry offers to split it with him on one condition: "Kill Carlos." He says Michael is at a fork in the road. "This is not a tough call." Angrily, Michael yells, "Killing Carlos does not solve my problem. My name is in the air!" Once again, Larry offers Michael what he's been offering all episode: a new one. "You're a shoe salesman from Buffalo!" Michael yells. Yeah, and he got you good. Hands up, everyone who'd like to hear Larry do a voice-over on all the ways you can kill somebody with a Brannock Device? Larry says he has connections, guns, and a Nietzschean worldview, although he pronounces it as "the will to act on our instincts, to get what we want. And what I want is to work with you again." Yeah, we got that. "You know what's sad?" Larry adds, "I don't see anyone else stepping up to bail you out." Oh, ouch. "It's do or die time, kid. What's it gonna be?" Michael blinks, slowly and thoughtfully, VOing, "After a career spent doing bad things for good reasons, it's hard to say exactly where you draw the line. You might not know exactly until someone asks." Michael twirls the knife and tells Larry in a flat voice, "I'll kill Carlos. You take care of the rest." Whoa! Dark side!

That night, Michael sits in his loft, cleaning his gun. Nate knocks, and Michael lets him him. "There you are!" Nate says, like, where else would he be? But apparently Nate's been calling for some time, to see if he could help with Larry. "I left you three messages." Which is news to Michael. Examining his phone, Michael VOs, "Turning an asset is a multi-step process. You back them into a corner, you pile on stress, you create tension with the people they trust, and if you can cut them off from good influences so you're the only voice in their ear, they're much more likely to listen." By now, from the guts of his phone, Michael has unearthed a swapped-out SIM card. Yes, Larry tampered with his phone. Where does he find the time? The VO continues, "It's a formula that works so well, it even works on spies who ought to know better." Indeed. Even Nate is surprised that Michael thought no one was answering his calls. "Dad's dead. You're not in Afghanistan any more. I mean, when are you gonna learn there are people you can trust?" Not Nate, necessarily, but people.

Early the morning, Michael meets Larry at a sidewalk coffee shop to pitch a new idea for the hit on Carlos. He wants to "leave no trace, leave no teeth." Larry likes that so much he thinks it should be a bumper sticker. That would be one way to discourage tailgaters, all right. Michael's new plan: take the whole building down, making it look like a rival dealer with a car bomb was the perp. Larry doesn't believe Michael is proposing this. "People don't change over night," he says, almost suspiciously . Michael says that's why he's postponing it to three o'clock, so they can clear out the other tenants. Larry loves it, and assures Michael the money's ready for when they have to run: "My bags are already packed," he says. He gets up to leave, and Michael tells him not to be late. Larry says he wouldn't miss it.

Michael dials his phone and this time actually gets a hold of Sam, who's walking down the beach with fishing gear. He says he's sorry, and he needs help. "My plan with Carlos fell apart and I'm scrambling." First, he needs to figure out where Larry hid the real money. Sam says if he were Larry, "I'd keep it close, but I'd want it someplace where you would look guilty if he had to bag out on the job." Irritation with himself and Larry battle with relief for control of Michael's face before he asks Sam to meet him at the loft. "Sam, we're gonna celebrate your genius." Bring yogurt!

Later, at the loft, Fi's also there as he finishes taking the cash out of his heavy punching bag. "He actually laughed when he said, 'my bags are packed,'" Michael says. No, he didn't. The cash is all there, in a pile the size of a large ottoman, so now it's time for the item on the agenda, which is for Michael to apologize to both of them. "I know I let Larry get too close," he admits. Fi corrects, "You let him crawl inside your head and make a nest," as though her own skull isn't packed with eggs that will shortly hatch tiny little Otters. Michael tells her -- or both of them, really -- "There's a part of me, this part that's like him, but it's just a part. And it gets smaller the longer I'm with you." And now it's time to get rid of him. "How can I help?" Fi asks. He needs her help with "a very special bomb." And it's going to be "special" in a somewhat controversial sense.

Later, Larry helps Michael plant a big device with a laptop computer and six jugs of liquid into Carlos's trunk. As they walk away, Larry puts an arm around him and says, "We are going to have so much fun!" Michael laughs right along and says, "I don't think we will." He says he dropped off Carlos's money at the airport, so now they're square. Larry goes from zero to rage-ball in half a second, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Michael while yelling at him for giving away the money. He's about to shoot, then he thinks better of it and tells Michael he'll leave him there to be a "smoldering corpse." Yeah, except as Michael explains, the bomb's a fake. Michael framed Carlos for counterfeiting; the liquid in the bomb is counterfeiting ink, the attached laptop only has graphics - scans of twenties -- and there are two million in fake bills in the Dumpster, as Michael shows Larry. Larry wonders what that's about; why would Michael rather arrange for Carlos's bosses to kill him in prison than kill Carlos himself? Michael says that Carlos chose to work for the cartel. "I make my own choices," Michael says, which is a pretty bold claim considering how long he's been letting the show's mytharc lead him around like a cow in a cattle chute. "I don't kill anyone unless I have to!" Larry raises his gun again, saying that's a difference between them. Michael says Larry won't kill him, with the cops on their way to talk to Larry Garber, who Michael says already called this all in. "Having an identity has its drawbacks, huh, Larry?" Michael goads, hearing the approaching sirens. Larry says he's already faked his own death once, but Michael reminds him that Larry Garber's assets are vulnerable to be seized by the authorities. "You shoot me and all that money's as good as gone." See what I mean about Michael being able to give people reasons not to shoot him? Man, if you can perfect that skill, all the others are just gravy. "You're at a fork in the road," Michael says, echoing Larry's earlier words. "Go broke and go to jail, or run from the cartel and live to fight another day... This isn't even a tough call!" Larry lowers the gun and promises Michael there will be another day. Michael thoughtfully takes Larry's gun to hide for him and runs off, telling him, "You're a hero, Larry. Larry Garber." The cops roll in just as Michael disappears, and Larry flags them down, already playing his role as a concerned citizen. Yeah, I'm pretty sure we'll see Larry again, and he won't be quite as jovial time. Unless he is.

Early the morning, Michael meets Larry at a sidewalk coffee shop to pitch a new idea for the hit on Carlos. He wants to "leave no trace, leave no teeth." Larry likes that so much he thinks it should be a bumper sticker. That would be one way to discourage tailgaters, all right. Michael's new plan: take the whole building down, making it look like a rival dealer with a car bomb was the perp. Larry doesn't believe Michael is proposing this. "People don't change over night," he says, almost suspiciously . Michael says that's why he's postponing it to three o'clock, so they can clear out the other tenants. Larry loves it, and assures Michael the money's ready for when they have to run: "My bags are already packed," he says. He gets up to leave, and Michael tells him not to be late. Larry says he wouldn't miss it.

Michael dials his phone and this time actually gets a hold of Sam, who's walking down the beach with fishing gear. He says he's sorry, and he needs help. "My plan with Carlos fell apart and I'm scrambling." First, he needs to figure out where Larry hid the real money. Sam says if he were Larry, "I'd keep it close, but I'd want it someplace where you would look guilty if he had to bag out on the job." Irritation with himself and Larry battle with relief for control of Michael's face before he asks Sam to meet him at the loft. "Sam, we're gonna celebrate your genius." Bring yogurt!

Later, at the loft, Fi's also there as he finishes taking the cash out of his heavy punching bag. "He actually laughed when he said, 'my bags are packed,'" Michael says. No, he didn't. The cash is all there, in a pile the size of a large ottoman, so now it's time for the item on the agenda, which is for Michael to apologize to both of them. "I know I let Larry get too close," he admits. Fi corrects, "You let him crawl inside your head and make a nest," as though her own skull isn't packed with eggs that will shortly hatch tiny little Otters. Michael tells her -- or both of them, really -- "There's a part of me, this part that's like him, but it's just a part. And it gets smaller the longer I'm with you." And now it's time to get rid of him. "How can I help?" Fi asks. He needs her help with "a very special bomb." And it's going to be "special" in a somewhat controversial sense.

Later, Larry helps Michael plant a big device with a laptop computer and six jugs of liquid into Carlos's trunk. As they walk away, Larry puts an arm around him and says, "We are going to have so much fun!" Michael laughs right along and says, "I don't think we will." He says he dropped off Carlos's money at the airport, so now they're square. Larry goes from zero to rage-ball in half a second, pulling out his gun and pointing it at Michael while yelling at him for giving away the money. He's about to shoot, then he thinks better of it and tells Michael he'll leave him there to be a "smoldering corpse." Yeah, except as Michael explains, the bomb's a fake. Michael framed Carlos for counterfeiting; the liquid in the bomb is counterfeiting ink, the attached laptop only has graphics - scans of twenties -- and there are two million in fake bills in the Dumpster, as Michael shows Larry. Larry wonders what that's about; why would Michael rather arrange for Carlos's bosses to kill him in prison than kill Carlos himself? Michael says that Carlos chose to work for the cartel. "I make my own choices," Michael says, which is a pretty bold claim considering how long he's been letting the show's mytharc lead him around like a cow in a cattle chute. "I don't kill anyone unless I have to!" Larry raises his gun again, saying that's a difference between them. Michael says Larry won't kill him, with the cops on their way to talk to Larry Garber, who Michael says already called this all in. "Having an identity has its drawbacks, huh, Larry?" Michael goads, hearing the approaching sirens. Larry says he's already faked his own death once, but Michael reminds him that Larry Garber's assets are vulnerable to be seized by the authorities. "You shoot me and all that money's as good as gone." See what I mean about Michael being able to give people reasons not to shoot him? Man, if you can perfect that skill, all the others are just gravy. "You're at a fork in the road," Michael says, echoing Larry's earlier words. "Go broke and go to jail, or run from the cartel and live to fight another day... This isn't even a tough call!" Larry lowers the gun and promises Michael there will be another day. Michael thoughtfully takes Larry's gun to hide for him and runs off, telling him, "You're a hero, Larry. Larry Garber." The cops roll in just as Michael disappears, and Larry flags them down, already playing his role as a concerned citizen. Yeah, I'm pretty sure we'll see Larry again, and he won't be quite as jovial time. Unless he is.

Michael puts Jack in a cab, reminding him that Jack Fleetwood is over; he's now Jack Yablonski. "Yeah, I'm psyched about that," Jack lies. Right, because Carlos does still think Jack helped rob him. Which, I suppose, he did. I guess Michael's reason for framing Carlos was to protect Jack. Whom he now reminds, "Seriously, if you ever come back to Miami, or if I ever hear the name Fleetwood again, I will kill you myself! Okay? Have a safe trip."

Over at Madeline's, Ruth sits pouting in Nate's packed-up car, so she's clearly ready to go. Nate says his goodbyes to Madeline and Michael, and the former hollers through the car door that she wishes they could stay longer. Ruth waves grumpily. Hugging Michael, Nate whispers, "One more day, she was gonna file for an annulment. You owe me." He does? Well, I guess time Nate's life is in danger, Michael will have to save it twice. Nate joins Ruth in the car, and Madeline asks Michael if he's sorry she's not going, too. Michael says he would have understood if that's what she'd wanted. Madeline says she's happy for Nate, building a life and all. "But I have mine. It's here. With You. And Sam and Fiona." Plus, I can't stand that woman." Close-up on Nate's Nevada plates as the car drives away. They drove from Vegas? That's a trek, dude.

Michael carries a slim manila folder into the same hotel from the opening, wearing his regular suit instead of trunks, as he VOs, "Weighing operational risk is tricky when your life is on one side of the scale. Withholding flight plan data may put your life in danger. But you try to remember that if you jeopardize thousands if innocent lives to save your own, you wouldn't want to live with yourself anyway." Speak for yourself, hero. Michael sits by Gilroy, who this time is out of the tub with a towel around him. Gilroy is disappointed that Michael's actually covered. Ignoring that, Michael shows him the one flight plan. "Is this your card?" he callbacks. "It's blatantly not six weeks of flight plans," Gilroy says mildly. Michael points out that it's the one flight Gilroy wants. "Chile to Poland. Tail number 4 whisky x-ray alpha 803. Registered to a faceless corporation in Santiago." Funny, most corporations are quite face-y. "What's so special about the plane?" Michael asks. Removing his sunglasses, glasses, Gilroy asks what happened to the price of privacy. "You hired an operative, not a child," Michael says, which was my point all last season. "I need to know what's going to Poland." After a pause, Gilroy brags, "It's a weaponized plague and a vaccine to match." "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Michael asks. No, especially since Michael showed up in clothes.

Michael puts Jack in a cab, reminding him that Jack Fleetwood is over; he's now Jack Yablonski. "Yeah, I'm psyched about that," Jack lies. Right, because Carlos does still think Jack helped rob him. Which, I suppose, he did. I guess Michael's reason for framing Carlos was to protect Jack. Whom he now reminds, "Seriously, if you ever come back to Miami, or if I ever hear the name Fleetwood again, I will kill you myself! Okay? Have a safe trip."

Over at Madeline's, Ruth sits pouting in Nate's packed-up car, so she's clearly ready to go. Nate says his goodbyes to Madeline and Michael, and the former hollers through the car door that she wishes they could stay longer. Ruth waves grumpily. Hugging Michael, Nate whispers, "One more day, she was gonna file for an annulment. You owe me." He does? Well, I guess time Nate's life is in danger, Michael will have to save it twice. Nate joins Ruth in the car, and Madeline asks Michael if he's sorry she's not going, too. Michael says he would have understood if that's what she'd wanted. Madeline says she's happy for Nate, building a life and all. "But I have mine. It's here. With You. And Sam and Fiona." Plus, I can't stand that woman." Close-up on Nate's Nevada plates as the car drives away. They drove from Vegas? That's a trek, dude.

Michael carries a slim manila folder into the same hotel from the opening, wearing his regular suit instead of trunks, as he VOs, "Weighing operational risk is tricky when your life is on one side of the scale. Withholding flight plan data may put your life in danger. But you try to remember that if you jeopardize thousands if innocent lives to save your own, you wouldn't want to live with yourself anyway." Speak for yourself, hero. Michael sits by Gilroy, who this time is out of the tub with a towel around him. Gilroy is disappointed that Michael's actually covered. Ignoring that, Michael shows him the one flight plan. "Is this your card?" he callbacks. "It's blatantly not six weeks of flight plans," Gilroy says mildly. Michael points out that it's the one flight Gilroy wants. "Chile to Poland. Tail number 4 whisky x-ray alpha 803. Registered to a faceless corporation in Santiago." Funny, most corporations are quite face-y. "What's so special about the plane?" Michael asks. Removing his sunglasses, glasses, Gilroy asks what happened to the price of privacy. "You hired an operative, not a child," Michael says, which was my point all last season. "I need to know what's going to Poland." After a pause, Gilroy brags, "It's a weaponized plague and a vaccine to match." "That wasn't so hard, was it?" Michael asks. No, especially since Michael showed up in clothes.

Michael rejoins Sam, who's been waiting outside the hotel. "So, learn anything?" Sam asks. "Only that he's a damn good liar," Michael admits. Wait, what? Michael tells Sam that Gilroy's bioweapon story "took him a little too long to come up with it." Observing that they're back to square one as they leave, Sam says Michael will need to do some digging. "I'm gonna need some help, Sam," Michael says. Sam chuckles and says, "Imagine that." So I guess they're cool again. But if they kiss, it happens off-camera.

Discuss this episode in our forums, then read some of Michael Westen's Most Useful Spy Tips!

M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.

Michael rejoins Sam, who's been waiting outside the hotel. "So, learn anything?" Sam asks. "Only that he's a damn good liar," Michael admits. Wait, what? Michael tells Sam that Gilroy's bioweapon story "took him a little too long to come up with it." Observing that they're back to square one as they leave, Sam says Michael will need to do some digging. "I'm gonna need some help, Sam," Michael says. Sam chuckles and says, "Imagine that." So I guess they're cool again. But if they kiss, it happens off-camera.

Discuss this episode in our forums, then read some of Michael Westen's Most Useful Spy Tips!

M. Giant is a Minneapolis-based writer with a wife, a son, and a number of cats that seems to have settled at around two. Learn waaaay too much about him at Velcrometer, follow him on Twitter, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com.