Michael meets up with Gilroy to learn about the gig they're going to be pulling together. Mostly he learns that for a preliminary robbery, Gilroy wants him to work with a very tall thief who goes by the name Claude.
He also learns that Madeline is being honored with a crime-stoppers award, primarily for calling in Michael's car thefts for him, and she expects him to be there. Which will be awkward for Michael, being in a room full of cops and all, plus he's got that thing for Gilroy when it's supposed to be happening. Drat the luck.
And then there's the job of the week. Sugar, the drug dealer Michael chased out of the apartment below him way back in the pilot, wants Michael's help getting his cousin un-mixed up with a dangerous local heist crew. Sugar thinks Michael's all about shooting people (which is understandable given their last interaction), so it's not surprising when he gets himself shot and put out of the picture. Suddenly Michael's a lot more motivated to sabotage the job and take the crew down. The team figures it's for an art heist week, only to learn that the bad guys are planning to rob an armored car, like, right now. Michael and the team not only foil the robbery and get the bad guys nabbed but save Sugar's cousin. Sugar then gives a grateful speech about the importance of family.
Duly guilted, Michael then makes time to both sabotage the heist with Claude and show up for Madeline's award ceremony, which they both bail on. And then Michael learns from Gilroy that Claude is dead, and Michael's on his own for the job they were supposed to pull together. Which I guess is what Michael wanted, sort of.
"It's never fun to be the guy who clears a location for a meet," Michael voice-overs, even though Sam is certainly dressed for fun in his standard Tommy Bahama drag, watching a Miami street go by from a sidewalk table. "In the best case, you waste your time looking for dangers that aren't there. In the worst case, of course, you miss something." Which is as close as we're going to get to a theme tonight. Michael joins Sam, who tells him "your buddy" (meaning Gilroy) entered the restaurant across the street alone ten minutes ago. Michael thinks he's pretty safe at such a nice place, but Sam seems to think the menu is pretty dangerous. "Foie gras? Lappin?" "Lapin," Michael corrects. "Whatever, it's still French for bunny rabbit," Sam scoffs. He wonders if there's a way to bring Gilroy down without working with him, but Michael's already committed to this course. "Whatever he is planning, the only way to stop it is to be right in the middle of it." And he sounds so upset about that, too. As he gets up and crosses the street, shrugging into his suit jacket, Sam wishes him bon appétit. "That's French for watch your back, amigo." Really? It is? I'm going to have to start paying more attention to the magazine that says that on the front and comes to my house every month. Maybe someone's sending me a warning...or a threat.
But enough of my problems. "Even routine meetings can be risky if you're sitting down with someone you don't trust," Michael VOs as he enters the restaurant, which doesn't look as packed as his earlier talk about reservations might have indicated. "You have to be alert to any subtle clue that tells you what you're walking into." There's Gilroy, with a martini and last week's subtitles that still read, "Gilroy -- Freelance Psychopath." So our first subtle clue is that the subtitles are still coasting. The VO goes on, "Are they armed? Did they bring backup? Of course there are also not-so-subtle clues. Like a third place setting at a lunch for two." As Michael sits down, Gilroy explains that "Claude" is coming. "Wonderful chap. Excellent conversationalist. Has great fashion sense. And he's the best thief in the Western Hemisphere. Useful skill in this phase of our little project." About which we of course aren't learning anything else yet. That kind of thing used to make me curious, like there was some big picture behind the glimpses Michael gets, but I think at this point it's clear that the main reason Michael never finds out more is because the writers haven't thought of it yet. For some reason, Michael tells Gilroy that he prefers to work alone. "Working with someone you don't know is stupid and dangerous," he pronounces as though he's treating Gilroy to a VO right there. Gilroy insists Michael "learn the value of teamwork." Instead, Michael gets up to go, only to find himself face-to-collarbone with Claude. Gilroy makes the introductions, and Claude growls, "So this is your local boy" in an Australian accent. Michael decides to sit back down, presumably because Claude is so damn charming, and while Gilroy gets all fey with the wine list, Michael and Claude glare at each other. "Claude -- Michael's New Teammate," reads the subtitle. Well, Claude can't get along with Sam and Fi any worse than they do with each other.
Speaking of Fi, she's looking kind of washed out (spray-tan accident, I assume) as she perches on Michael's stairs doing her nails, while Michael busies himself with the Charger. He exposits that the job he'll be doing with Claude is to steal a file from the Chilean consulate. "Invading foreign territory and stealing documents with someone you've never met. Sounds great!" Fi says. Michael says it's not going to happen -- he plans to take Claude out somehow. He asks Fi to see what she can find out about Claude, and while she agrees, she asks how far he's willing to go. "As far as I have to," he non-answers. Which I'm sure he thinks makes him sound determined, but given how little all this really has to do with him, he just comes off overinvested. She's just making a retort when they're interrupted by the sound of loud hip-hop music and a shiny red sports car pulling into the courtyard. Out gets Sugar, the drug dealer Michael ran off back in the pilot, now sporting a fresh and nasty shiner. Michael quietly gets his gun out of the Charger's gun box, keeping it out of sight as he gets out to meet Sugar. "You remember Sugar, the drug dealer who used to live beneath my place?" Michael reminds Fi and all the new viewers. "The man you shot in the leg," Fi recalls. "Yeah, your boy capped me, through a wall. Did something with duct tape," Sugar recalls, finally earning the subtitle, "Sugar -- Michael's Old Neighbor." Michael's not exactly welcoming, but Sugar says he came to hire Michael, and reaches for something in his pants. Michael's gun is out, up, and in Sugar's face in half a second. "In covert ops, you get used to seeing old enemies," he VOs. As Sugar pulls out a wad of cash instead of a gun of his own, Michael says, "Sometimes they're looking for intelligence. Sometimes they're looking for revenge." Sugar asks if Michael's going to shoot him again, which he's cool with if it helps his cousin. "And sometimes, they're looking for a friend," the VO ends as Michael lowers the gun. And then Sugar shoots him. Well, no, but it would serve him right, the big softie.
Instead, after the credits and the ads, Sugar is explaining to Michael and Fi that his cousin Dougie has fallen in with some shady types. "Shady?" Michael asks. "Shady like drug dealers?" Sugar indignantly defends his compartmentalization skills, and says that this is a guy named Lynch who pulls big robberies that tend to get people "hurt, or worse." And they need Dougie for something nefarious. "They're not hanging out with him because they think he's cool," Sugar says. By which he means Dougie is "slow." Worse, Dougie thinks the bad guys are his friends, and when Sugar tried to get them to back off, well, hence the shiner. He offers Michael five thousand bucks to help. "I figure we mount up and ride on these jokers," Sugar boasts. Michael thinks that's a bad plan, and suggests Sugar move his cousin out of town instead. Sugar isn't about to do that, after all the work Dougie has put into getting himself established with a job and a place of his own. Disappointed, Sugar says he'll handle this himself. "What happened to the bad-ass that used to live here?" he asks. "If he comes back, give him my number." He throws it on the ground and walks out. You know, that's actually a fair question. The Michael Westen from the pilot is way scarier than the current version. These days he needs some pretty serious inducement to shoot anyone at all. Fi second-guesses Michael (because that what Fi does) until his cell phone rings. It's Madeline, and Michael goes rushing off to help with whatever she needs. She couldn't have had that much time to say anything, not even, "No, really, Michael, I won't pull the football away this time." So I figure Michael's just eager to get away from Fi.
Sitting at Madeline's dining room table reading a letter on official stationery, Michael incredulously asks his mom, "You're getting the Take a Bite out of Crime Award?" Funny, I always scan the opening credits to see who's guest-starring, and I don't recall seeing McGruff the Crime Dog's name in there. She says the award is for citizen crime-stoppers. When Michael wonders how this happened, she reminds him that she's the neighborhood watch captain. "And it didn't hurt that I called in three stolen cars in the last two months." "You mean the cars I asked you to call in?" Michael asks. "The ones I stole?" Madeline wants him to dress up for the reception, since the chief of police will be there. Which Michael is not nearly as excited about as she is. "Mom!" he protests. "I can't be in a room full of cops giving you an award for reporting crimes I committed!" Madeline doesn't care about that nearly as much as the thought of being the only award recipient there without any family present. "It' s not like I can ask Nate to fly in from Vegas. Noon on Saturday." Bet he wishes he'd hung around to get browbeaten by Fi instead. Sam comes in to borrow a cup of sugar. "Sam nominated me!" Madeline says proudly. Sam clarifies that he actually just signed the paper Madeline had already filled out. He also asks if Fi's looking into Claude, because Sam's coming up empty so far. After Sam leaves, Michael manages a brave smile for his mom.
That night, Michael lets himself into his loft to find Fi lounging on his bed, reading a magazine. Or at least looking at the pictures. He asks what she found out about Claude, and she makes a big show of being distracted by the plight of Sugar and his cousin. They eye-roll and sigh exasperatedly at each other until Fi gives in, and reports that Claude is actually a former Australian secret agent named Tomas Smalling. "You say Sugar's not your problem?" she asks on her way out. "Did you ever stop and think Gilroy's not your problem either?" Yeah, it sounds like Australian S.I.S is on the case. Score! Leave it to them, Michael, and start acting like the title of your show means something.
morning, Michael has apparently given in and agreed to meet Sugar somewhere by the beach. They both get out of their respective cars and Sugar goes in for a
high ten. Michael just leaves him hanging. "Eh, okay," Sugar says, and shows Michael the arsenal he's assembled in his trunk: "Guns and duct tape. When do we go?" he asks excitedly. Michael closes the trunk and says, "We don't go ever...no mounting up, no riding on people." Heh. Sugar asks if they're going more Mission: Impossible, like through the roof. "That would fall into the riding category, so no," Michael says. His first move is to find out about Lynch and what he wants with Dougie. That sounds more like Michael. Also, at some point, it's probably safe to say that Lynch will unwittingly have some interaction with Michael or a member of his team, and that Michael will talk in a funny voice. As for Sugar, Michael wants him to leave town and wait for Michael's call. Sugar agrees with great reluctance. " Sugar -- the Client," the subtitles announce. Michael asks where he can find Lynch.Unlike most criminals on this show, Lynch is not the type to go to the same restaurant, bar, or club every day. Fortunately, Sugar seems to know where he lives, and the team is casing the place now. "Whether it's a drug compound in the mountains of Columbia or a tropical estate in Miami, nothing says success like a lot of land," Michael VOs. "Of course, the more land someone has, the easier it is to hide out and do surveillance. Lush landscaping may be beautiful, but it's hardly secure." Sam and Michael are in the front seat of the Charger, using his 'n his binoculars to scope out a couple of guys talking on the veranda of Lynch's house. Fi's on foot, lurking around the grounds. They're in touch by walkie-talkie, and Fi says she shouldn't have too much trouble getting in after Lynch and his people leave. Sam, going through the police file on Lynch that he doesn't even bother to explain how he got, says Lynch has a lot on his record. Michael asks how he avoids getting arrested, and Sam says he covers his tracks. "They don't leave anyone around to tell the story. That guy's a public health hazard." The subtitles go along with that: "Lynch -- Public Health Hazard," they bravely assert. And not that anyone cares but me, but you have no idea how hard it is not to mistype his name as "Lunch." He needs to go down just for that. A minivan pulls up and Lynch and his crew get in, even as Fi observes, "Lynch doesn't strike me as the soccer dad type." Actually, as played by H!ITG Spencer Garrett, he kind of does, at least physically. Michael asks them, "Can you two handle the house while I follow Lynch?" Sam asks if they're supposed to take the bus back, and upon getting no answer, gets out of the Charger, babbling, "Okay, fine, save gas, help the planet. Hey, I'm as green as the guy, you know." Sometimes I wonder if Sam has some form of battered wife syndrome.
Fi's inside as Michael VOs, "Finding the best place in a house to hide a bug can be tough. But if you can't wire every room for sound, the TV remote is a good all-purpose choice. It's got a power source, it's kept in areas where people gather, and it's usually in the hand of the most powerful guy in he room." Wait, are we still talking about a TV remote? Fi alerts Sam once she's got it installed, and from a bus stop bench, he tells her to have a quick look around. She wanders around upstairs and finds, lying in the middle of a hallway, a disarrayed pile of bulletproof vests, ski masks, mini oxygen tanks, and of course machine guns, like this is some kind of Navy SEAL frat house.
Meanwhile, following the minivan, Michael VOs, "You can often tell when a team of guys is going out to kill someone. There's something about the way they drive. Always below the speed limit, always careful at stop signs." You'd think they'd also be careful about making sure no one is following them, but they don't appear to notice Michael's Charger in their mirror. As he pulls in to watch them park in a driveway and get out, he continues, "There's something about the way they move. A little strut, a hard set to the jaw. See it enough times, you don't even need clues like the target's car sitting in a driveway." But there's Sugar's red sports car anyway, parked in a driveway across the street. Michael speed-dials his client. "Tell me you left town," he says. Sugar assures Michael he's at his stash house, which Sugar thinks no one knows about. Meanwhile, Lynch and his crew are right outside, locking and loading, donning ski masks and goggles to go along with their bulletproof vests. That's also a clue. Michael tells Sugar to go out the back, but Sugar is up for a gunfight, and opens up with his shotgun. Lynch and his guys dive for cover, but aren't afraid to shoot back, with assault rifles. Sugar takes a round in the side. He should really fall down when this happens. By this time, Michael is out of his car and running into the back of the house. Sugar takes another hit, this one in the shoulder. Fall already! Staying out of the line of fire, even when the shooting stops, Michael takes a look around a corner and sees Sugar bleeding on the floor. This is a major customer service crisis. This calls for something big.
"Microwaves," he VOs, "are one of the most dangerous appliances in the home to repair or modify. But in a pinch, you can use their extremely high voltage to your advantage." Michael digs out the whole silverware tray from the drawer and rips the side panel off the unit while the gunmen outside consider their move. "Remove a microwave's surge inhibitor," Michael VOs, pulling something out of the guts of the machine, "mix in some reactive household cleaning supplies in pressurized cans and a fistful of silverware [or, as in this case, the entire tray, and a hammer for good measure]." I must say, as much as this place looks like a dump, it's surprisingly well-stocked with housewares. Michael brings the microwave out into the living room, plugs it in to Sugar, and wraps it in duct tape, because the voice-over is telling us, "Make sure the door is sealed tight," the VO adds. "Now you want to use duct tape?" Sugar moans from the floor. "And to save time, just press 'popcorn.'" Michael does, then drags Sugar out the back. "Do it right, and you have the makings of a very big..." The microwave booms obligingly, blowing down the door and flattening Lynch's crew. Michael heaves the very bloody Sugar into his shotgun seat, which I would worry about more if Michael hadn't already proven his skill with cosmetic repairs more serious than getting stains out of the white interior. Sugar, having no such knowledge, apologizes. "You better stay alive, because I'm going to make you clean that later," Michael says, going around to the driver's side. That should boost Sugar's will to live. But maybe Michael isn't that invested in Sugar's survival after all, because he takes the time to put on his sunglasses before pulling out. And it's not even that sunny.
Sam meets Michael and Fi back at the loft to update them on Sugar's condition. Apparently Michael saved his life. While bagging up some bloody rags (presumably the leftovers from de-blooding his car) Michael asks what the police are saying. "Uh, drug dealer gunned down in a stash house doesn't exactly get you, you know, front-burner status," Sam says. Fi says they need to get Dougie out of town, but suddenly Michael hates that idea. In an obviously looped bit of dialogue, he says if they do that, Lynch will just move on to someone else. "I want this to be his last job." Fi is more worried about Dougie. "As long as Lynch needs Dougie for a job, he's safe until it goes down." Fi points out they don't know anything about the job. "Then we have some work to do, don't we?" Michael says. Indeed, we're not even halfway through the episode yet. Sam steps in to make peace, even though I'm not sure why they're fighting. He tells Michael to focus on his imminent meeting with Gilroy and Claude while Sam goes and sees what he can find out from Dougie himself. "And if we have to move him on short notice, I'm a familiar face," he foreshadows. Michael likes that idea so much he asks to borrow Fi's car. "The Charger's a little stained." So he certainly can't be seen in it with its present condition. She drops her keys in his hand while I try to figure out why Michael and Fi are suddenly mad at each other. Oh, why ask why?
Michael and Claude are loitering by a street corner, Claude browsing sunglasses while Michael pages through magazines at the newsstand. Gilroy strolls up and says he's not staying. "I just wanted to make sure that our first strategy session gets off on the right foot. Teambuilding is a process so I thought I'd help speed it up." And if he keeps going on in this annoying vein, Claude and Michael will soon be an unstoppable Gilroy-killing team. He presents them with matching watches, synchronized to his own. "We look like a team, we'll act like one," he dorks. "Maybe we should get jerseys," Michael deadpans. Well, he and Gilroy are wearing nearly identical striped dress shirts, so they're nearly there already. Gilroy directs
their attention to the building across the street, namely a third-floor window. He says the file he wants will be there on Friday evening and will be sent out on Sunday morning, which means they have to get it on Saturday. It also sounds like employees at this building don't get to have much fun on weekends. Gilroy puts Claude in charge of the job, and asks Michael if he minds. "Go team," Michael says. Satisfied, Gilroy remarks that one's resting pulse tends to synchronize with one's watch. "That means by that by the end of today, our hearts will beat as one. I'll leave you both to ponder the possibilities. Ta-ta." I'm left pondering the possibilities of the smurfiest psychopath ever committed to my DVR. Once he's gone, Claude tells Michael the plan: Michael will create a diversion, then cover the alley while Claude gets the file. Michael wants more details, like how Claude is getting in. "From the outside. Not your problem," Claude says. This must be what Gilroy meant about Claude being a fantastic conversationalist. Michael asks about the security inside. "One guard?" scoffs Claude. "If he sees me, it'll be the last thing he ever sees." He leaves Michael to ponder that possibility.Sam's at a flower warehouse, looking like the city bureaucrat he's impersonating in a tie, short-sleeved shirt, and nerd glasses. He's claiming to be part of the independent living commission, checking up on Dougie. He blathers about the bureaucracy, and the boss says Dougie's working out great. They've just approached him, loading a van. "Dougie -- Sugar's Cousin," is how the subtitles identify a large, roundish man with a friendly if not complicated expression. Sam introduces himself (as always) as Chuck Finley, and Dougie explains his job: He's in charge of keeping the storage room door closed when the big garage door opens, to keep the outdoor pollution away from the flowers. Noticing Sam's watch, Dougie asks if he was in the Navy. Sam cops to it; it's not like it conflicts with his cover or anything. Dougie says he tried to be in the Army, but failed the test. However, he's lucky enough to have a friend named Mr. Lynch who's still a Marine. Wow, what are the chances? Dougie is under the misconception that Lynch goes on "missions" sometimes, and has already put Dougie on alert status for when he can help out with one. Playing it cool, Sam tries to find out more, but Dougie hasn't been told much. He does offer to invite Sam along to a party Lynch is having that day, but Sam politely begs off. And then he calls Fi. "Are you in a partying mood?" he asks. Of course, the answer would have to be more complicated than a simple yes or no; Fi should also be asked to provide her definition of a partying mood.
But I guess everyone was satisfied with her responses, because we're at a party scene at Lynch's house, with tons of bikini babes and shit. As always, I have no idea where the bad guys find these women. "Infiltrating hostile territory is all about blending in," Michael VOs. "Which means if you're a sniper in the bush, you wear a ghillie suit. And if you're a beautiful woman at a Miami house party, you wear a slinky dress." Enter Fi, of course, working the hell out of that skin-tight gold ghillie suit. Okay, no it's a dress. She's just in time to hear Lynch observe of Dougie, "Retard's looking bored." He has Dougie do a shot with him and then gets him to dance so all the partygoers can laugh at him. Except Fi, of course. She looks around disapprovingly. What happened to blending in?
Lynch gathers his crew in a back room and clears out the guests. "Lynch just called a meeting," Fi says into her earpiece. Parked outside in the SUV, Sam tells her to "get ears on those guys." "A bug is only as good as what it hears," Michael VOs as Fi slinks into the TV room and snags the TV remote. "So if the discussion you want to be part of isn't taking place around your listening device, you have two choices. You can move the discussion, or you can move the bug." Fi bursts faux-drunkenly into the room where the meeting is happening, claiming to have lost her car keys in there. Before Lynch can finish firmly escorting her out of there, she has hidden the remote with the bug in it under a throw pillow. That should make for great audio. But once she's gone, Sam can clearly hear Lynch telling his guys that he just talked to someone named Bolo. "He said he found us a thief who can get us the last piece of hardware we need...He's making the intro tomorrow at La Covacha." Sam thinks that's actionable. With another gratuitous reference to "the retard" from Lynch, the conversation ends. This just as Fi comes running back out to Sam's SUV and starts rooting through his glove box. "Where's your gun, Sam?" she demands, wanting to go in there and mow down some people. Now, see, this is what I mean by Fi's definition of a partying mood. He says he moved it for her own good, like she would have ever gone in there without one in the first place. He tries to cheer her up by telling her they have a lead: Lynch is meeting tomorrow with a thief he's never seen. "I know somebody else he's never seen," Sam says. A hair stylist?
The day, Michael and Sam sit outside a restaurant in Sam's SUV (where did he get that, anyway?), with a sports drink on the console between them. Sam has gotten a description of the man and his car from Barry. Remember Barry? Where is Barry? I miss Barry. Before we can think too much about him, Sam spots Bolo's car driving up. "Got the cooperation juice ready?" he asks as Michael draws a syringeful of liquid out of the sports drink bottle. "Let's do this, Doc," Sam says as they get out of the truck.
Bolo comes strutting into the outdoor restaurant, working a hat, a suit, and a bolo tie. "Bolo -- the Fence," the subtitles alert us. That nickname must be a drag if he ever feels the urge to wear a regular tie. Sam waylays Bolo and says someone left a note for him. He leads him all the way to the back while Michael VOs, "Everyone knows about the placebo effect. People get healed by sugar water because they think it's medicine. Of course, the placebo doesn't just work for medicine." Once he's led Bolo out of sight of the other patrons, Sam pulls out his gun and warns, "You're gonna want to hold still for this." Michael appears out of nowhere, produces that syringe, and pokes Bolo in the neck with it as his VO continues, "It turns out fake poisons work pretty well too. Which is useful when you need someone terrified enough to do what you say." Waving the empty syringe under Bolo's nose (so I guess if this doesn't work Michael can always blind him), Michael tells him, "You've just been injected with three CCs of methylchlorate benzenene." Which may be made up, or it may be the active ingredient printed on the bottle, or both of those things may be true. Sam translates, "You've got five hours to live, unless you find an antidote." Which Michael says Bolo will get from them if he follows instructions. He tells Bolo to call the person he's introducing to Lynch, and send him home. "I am him today," Michael says. Bolo is already dialing his phone. That cooperation juice really works!
A few minutes later, they're sitting together at a table, with an empty chair waiting for Lynch. Michael tells a visibly frightened Bolo, "Try to stay calm. The faster your heart beats, the faster the poison gets into your bloodstream." Clearly having never seen Escape from L.A., Bolo is already experiencing "symptoms," which Michael plays along with, warning, "Your hands will shake, then you'll have difficulty controlling your bowels." Bolo looks like he's way ahead of him on that score. As Lynch arrives, Michael tells him to pull it together. Bolo anxiously introduces Michael as DJ, "The one man who can get you what you need." Lynch shows Michael a photograph and asks if he knows what it is. Affecting a low-grade Southern accent, Michael says, "That there's a hydraulic cutter/spreader on steroids. Some people call it the jaws of life." Lynch says that's correct, and he wants one. Michael says it might be tough, "Seeing as how only emergency response agencies are allowed to have that kind." "Well, If I could get it at Wal-Mart I wouldn't need you, would I?" Lynch asks. Michael tries to get more details about what Lynch needs it for without blowing his cover, but doesn't get them, other than that Lynch wants the jaws of life by tomorrow. "You want the gig or not?" Lynch asks. While Bolo tries not to freak out in his rush to close the deal, Michael VOs, "Working undercover is all about judgment calls. Give the bad guy too little help and you can't do your job. Give the bad guy too much help, and you become part of the problem." "Deal," Michael says out loud before the VO adds, "It's a tough call, but sometimes things have to get worse before they get better." Sometimes? I'd say every week.
Back at the Carlito, the team has a meeting. Sam complains, "We got all these pieces and still no answer. Dougie's out there flapping in the breeze and now we have less than a day to pull him in." Fi knows there's a connection to the flower place, which must be why they need Dougie. But Sam says there's not enough money there to make it worthwhile, and Michael points out, "And Lynch isn't doing this to steal a dozen roses." I don't know, have you seen the price of flowers lately? Fi wonders if Lynch plans to use a flower delivery van as a Trojan horse to another target. The team decides to run with that theory, and Sam offers to get a delivery schedule. As soon as he's gone, Michael asks Fi to help Sam vet the possible targets, and she's on it. Apropos of the b-plot, she adds that she heard something else about Claude's usual MO: "I don't know if this helps any, but he's made a habit of scaling the sides of buildings. Free climbing." Yes, the hulking Claude certainly looks the type who can scamper up a wall. Or maybe he's just tall enough to reach up and pull himself up by the rain gutter.
Madeline's all excited to see Michael, but he blows past her and roots through her front closet, asking, "Where's that city inspector shirt Dad used to wear when he was stealing equipment?" Wait, hasn't Michael already used that shirt before? After correcting Michael's word choice to "borrowing," Madeline shoulders him aside to open a false wall in the back of the closet. "Your dad liked to have a place to keep his private stuff," she says pointedly, and hands him a box of clothes. I don't want to think too much about Mr. Westen's "private" stuff. While Michael's rooting through the box of clothes, she tells him she picked up a new outfit for herself for Saturday, and something for Michael as well: a floral fuchsia tie that makes him do a double-take. And it's a clip-on. If Bolo saw that, his nickname would be safe for another decade. "I know it's not exactly your style, Madeline understates, but it goes great with my skirt." Michael says he can't make it. "Something's kinda come up." "So put it back down," Madeline snaps. Distractedly, looking at the old service shirt he's dug out, Michael condescends, "It's complicated. People could get hurt." "Well, we certainly wouldn't want that to happen," Madeline, says. Ironically, she seems hurt. She tells Michael to keep the tie, since she can't return it anyway. It seems to have just now occurred to Michael that his mom might be disappointed about ditching her on Saturday. But at least now he has the perfect accessory if he ever has to go undercover as a beauty pageant judge with brain damage.
At the flower market, Sam shakes down Dougie's boss for the delivery schedule, making some bureaucracy-related excuse for needing it now. While he goes to get it, Sam goes over to talk to Dougie, who's putting together a vase of flowers for Sugar. They talk about the healing qualities of a good bouquet until the boss returns with the schedule and Sam heads out.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of the Chilean Consulate, Michael in his nondescript city-inspector gear unpacks a little bag with a notebook, a ruler, and one of those laser tape measures. As he gets busy with his kit, he VOs. "Even the most skilled operative knows a good plan is ten percent execution, ninety percent preparation. Advance work is crucial of you want an operation to be successful. Advance work is also crucial if you want an operation to fail." His measurements and calculations completed, Michael unreels a little fishing line down toward a stanchion holding a security light to the side of the building, until the lead sinker at the end of the line clanks against the metal. As he squeezes some viscous yellow liquid from a bottle down the line and all the way to the light, the VO continues, "For example, for someone who likes to break into buildings by free climbing, tampering with potential handholds could be a very serious problem." Well, he did tell Madeline that people could get hurt. Walking down the street a bit later, his work there done, Michael uses his cell phone to check in with Fi, who asks about the jaws of life. "I'm just on my way," he tells her.
As we see some firefighters in full gear applying a noisy jaws of life to a mangled car door, Michael VOs, "Jaws of life are standard equipment for emergency rescue outfits. If you'
d rather not take a set that might be needed, you don't steal them from a fire station. A fire training center, on the other hand, can probably miss theirs for a few days without risking anyone's life." So that's where Michael is. The lieutenant in charge of the facility is just bitching to Michael, who is claiming HQ sent him to pick them up for routine maintenance. "We got a class training on those cutters today and tomorrow, so you have HQ call me if you've got a problem with this," the Lieutenant says. Most people would go find another training center, but Michael feigns alarm, asking. "You're using them right now?" And dashes out back to the practice yard.He runs up to the crew training on them -- the same one we saw a minute ago -- yelling at them to shut it down. "You see those twin lines?" he says, pointing at the device. "One wrong twist and that thing goes snap-crackle-pop. That thing'll start flipping around like a rattlesnake on PCP!" That's a fun image. Carefully, he takes hold of the tool. Suddenly the lieutenant barks, "Hold on!" Michael freezes, like he's just been busted. "Somebody want to help him load 'em onto his truck?" Michael is quite glad to have the help.
That night, at the loft, Sam and Fi come in to tell Michael they've figured it out: the Hotel Milan is hosting an art auction. It backs up to the Miami River, which explains the oxygen tanks. And the jaws of life must be for the art crates, since blowtorches are out of the question. Wait, who ever heard of an amphibious art heist? And that's not the only problem with this theory. For another thing, Sam is so certain that he's got to be wrong, and when he adds that the auction isn't until week, giving them plenty of time to foil it, that clinches it. Not that they know.
The day, Michael delivers the jaws to Lynch, who's pretty happy with Michael's quick turnaround. As Michael goes back to get into the red pickup truck he picked up somewhere, Lynch tells one of his men, "Call the retard. Make sure he's at work." Good thing he said that within earshot of Michael. Fortunately earshot only works one way in this scene, because Michael doesn't even roll up his window before getting on his cell phone to Fi and telling her to get Sam. "Lynch is on the move. We missed something." By which he means, "You missed something."
Back at the loft, Michael and Fi make Sam check the delivery schedule again. While he does, Michael VOs, "There's nothing worse than the feeling you get when you've made a serious tactical mistake. When you thought you had two days to deal with a problem and you realize you may not even have two hours." Sam spots his error. "Because when you make mistakes like that, people die." Sam realizes that a scheduled pickup listed under "Anderson" is not a guy, as he assumed, but Anderson Couriers, an armored truck company. And it's now late Friday, so the truck will be full of cash. "Lynch's heist is going on right now," Sam realizes as they all rush out of the loft. Good thing they can work on the fly.
"When you make a mistake in the field," Michael VOs as he, Sam, and Fi sit staking out the flower warehouse as Lynch and his crew show up in a white van, "the key is to focus on solutions, not regrets. Being sorry doesn't mean much in combat situations. You can't apologize to a corpse." Sure you can. Plus the corpse can't reject your apology. In fact, you can tell the corpse it's all the corpse's fault, and it can't argue. I'm not seeing a downside here. Anyway, it's Fi who figures out that Lynch's crew plans to take out the armored truck when it's in the loading bay, which is why they need Dougie -- as the door operator, he'll be the one to let them in. Sam spots one of Lynch's men climbing to the roof. Seeing that he's carrying a gas cylinder, Michael realizes they plan to fill the loading bay -- which is sealed for freshness -- killing everyone inside. The jaws of life are for cutting open the truck, and the oxygen is so Lynch's crew can breathe in the poisonous environment. And the armored truck is due any minute. "Fi, can you make sure that truck leaves in a hurry?" Michael asks. She hops out without asking for further clarification, but I think we can assume that something's going to get blowed up. Michael wants Sam to take the guy on the roof while he rescues Dougie, but Sam makes the excellent point that Dougie knows him. You know, as per the plan about a half hour ago.
Inside, Lynch talks to Dougie a bit from inside his van. None of the other employees seem to be around for some reason, which will at least minimize the body count. Fi (surprise!) places a charge under a conveniently located Dumpster. Up on the roof, Lynch's minion is drilling holes in the duct leading from the A/C. Michael saunters up behind him and mildly remarks, "In Miami, the last thing you want to do is fool with people's air conditioning." The goon goes for Michael, but Michael drops him pretty quickly. From a spot out of sight, Fi holds a remote detonator in her hand while she watches the armored car approach. Sam rushes into the warehouse through the garage door and urgently asks Dougie to come outside with him. Dougie isn't moving too quickly. Well, Sugar did say he was slow. By this time, the armored truck driver sees a dumpster on the side of the road suddenly explode and catapult itself right into his path with surprising accuracy. It rolls out of the way, but the driver isn't hanging around to see what happens , so that truck will not be getting robbed today. Sam keeps trying to rush Dougie out, but Lynch is out of his van, demanding to know what's up and pointing a machine gun at Dougie and Sam. Sam pushes Dougie aside and fires his handgun at Lynch before diving for cover behind a stack of pallets. Dougie still isn't leaving. Instead, he pushes over a shelf of supplies, which I guess somehow gives him and Sam cover enough to roll out under the closing doors, leaving Lynch and his crew inside. For not being slow, Dougie sure figured out who the real good guy was in the pinch. Once they're outside, Sam shoots the outer door controls, and it blows up like Sam is Buck Rogers, who always had the magical ability to make a door panel do exactly what he wanted it to do just by firing a laser bolt into it. In this case, that means disabling the interior controls, trapping Lynch and his guys inside. Sam and Dougie rush off and jump into Fi's car, which drives off.
Inside, Lynch dials his cell phone to call his rooftop minion. "Helleww?" Michael answers. Lynch still doesn't get it until Michael says, "Sorry, Tyler can't talk right now. But hey, the cops are on their way and I hope that they can get in there before your oxygen tanks run out." Yes, Michael has opened the valve on that cylinder, and down inside, Lynch can see the gas coming out through the fans. This can't be good for the flowers. Lynch shouts threats into his phone, and Michael wishes him luck, throws away the minion's phone, and walks off across the roof just as the sound of sirens become audible. Is he going to take the bus home from the scene of the crime? I guess that would be karmic payback from earlier.
Fi and Michael have found some time to visit Sugar in his hospital room. "I don't know how many times I have to get shot before I start listening to you," Sugar says. He's grateful, so much so that as they leave, he subjects them to a long story. He says he was always mean to Dougie when they were kids, until one day when he was getting beat up, and Dougie swooped in to the rescue. Later, Dougie explained to Sugar, "'I love you, Raymond. We're family.' Like it was just that simple." Michael seems to take Sugar's story to heart. Now if only he had a drug-dealer cousin to save.
But first, there's that other thing he has to take care of. He's got the red pickup parked across the street from the Chilean consulate, and is pouring the contents of a couple of bottles into a gardener's spray-jug as he VOs, "A good diversion gets people's attention, but doesn't make them run for their lives. If you're using a parked vehicle, that means you want sm
oke and fire without the risk of an explosion. Olive oil starts to smoke at 375 degrees. Mix in the right amount of cheap motor oil with a low flashpoint, apply it to the inside of the exhaust pipe [which Michael does, generously, and then turns on the ignition] and you should have enough time to walk away before the fun starts." Yeah, but just barely. As the truck starts to generate enough smoke for a Def Leppard video, he's the only one walking away as looky-loos start gathering around like they've never seen smoke before.He meets Claude around the corner, all dressed in black like he isn't doing this in broad daylight. "Anyone comes into the alley," Claude begins. "I know, shoot him several times," Michael says boredly. "Can we get this over with?" Wearing a backpack, Claude begins his ascent of the side of the building as Michael's VO explains how it's done: "In free climbing, the general rule is always to maintain at least two points of contact with the surface." Claude is up to the level of the second floor with little difficulty. "Challenging climbs always include a point where the only way to continue is to leap from one point of support to the ." Claude is now hanging from the level of the third floor, swinging monkey-like from the stanchions of those security lights, to a windowsill to more security lights. "For experienced climbers, it's a routine technique with minimal risk. Unless of course the handhold you're jumping to is coated with a silicone-based lubricant." Sure enough, as he grabs for the stanchion Michael fucked with earlier, Claude's hand slips and he plummets to the pavement, his ankle collapsing crunchily as he lands. I previously thought Michael had treated the light with acid so it would come off in Claude's hand, but this is much better; not only does it look less suspicious, he's not even guilty of vandalism. "Come on, we gotta get out of here," Michael sighs, like he knew Claude would blow it all along. Which he did, but he can't have Claude knowing that.
Madeline's awards ceremony is actually happening outside at a park, and the police chief is giving her a little speech about how no city can be safe unless ordinary people get involved. Well, especially when the local fuzz is as stupid as they are on this show. Madeline says he should meet Michael, and he politely says, "Maybe someday you can introduce us," before moving on. Madeline fans herself irritatedly, but when she turns around, she's happy to see Michael, in the tie she got him and everything. It's not too bad with the lavender shirt he's matched it with, but it would look better with a jacket over it. Or a turtleneck. He explains that he was able to "break free" from his other commitment. I would have gone with "slip away," myself. She asks if anyone got hurt. Michael looks down sadly, as though that wasn't his plan. She asks if it's over, and he says, "Not yet." So Madeline rips off her nametag and says they can take off. As for her award, "They can mail it to me." She says he can take off his tie. "Thank you," he says, and it's off before she's done talking. That's one advantage of a clip-on.
Back at a table with Gilroy -- and three place settings -- Michael tries to decline to join Gilroy in a pre-lunch drink. "I heard drinking whiskey before dinner was a sign of weakness," he says, all high and mighty. Gilroy says it's for Claude: "Dalmore was his favorite." Then it's a good thing he's not here, since the label clearly reads "Glencallan." Michael doesn't fail to note Gilroy's use of the past tense. "Unfortunately, our comrade didn't survive his injuries," Gilroy says. "Luckily, we still have each other." Michael is a little slow catching the snap, but he gets it eventually. Gilroy says that Michael now gets to work alone, like he wanted to all along. "The acquisition of those documents is now solely your responsibility." Michael smiles and says they've moved on to a new level of trust, which he uses as an excuse to fish for more info. Gilroy says Claude's failure teaches them to live in the moment. "I suggest you honor his memory by completing his mission. Consider it a reason for living. As it were." Michael quietly interprets the threat, and toasts, "To Claude. And to living." They drain their glasses, and then stare at each other intensely. This is going to be a very long lunch.
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.