By M. Giant
Michael meets Victor, his new "wrangler," a word which means "get used to not having Tricia Helfer around." While we're working on doing that, a childhood acquaintance of Michael's named Ricky comes to him for help. It seems Ricky's being set up for embezzling from a violent hip-hop mogul who's played by Method Man. Michael goes through the obligatory cons and fake voice and setbacks, before finally settling on setting up the embezzler right back. Which probably would have been easier in the first place.
Meanwhile, Victor wants Michael's help with a mysterious heist, but won't tell Michael what they're stealing. So naturally, Michael's only option is to seriously out-MacGyver himself by secretly turning his trunk into an x-ray machine. Michael's also got Sam babysitting Madeline, using Sam's alleged heartbreak over Veronica as cover so as not to scare her. Of course Madeline figures it out anyway, but all is well when the heist goes down and Victor leaves happy. So what's the big secret MacGuffin, according to Michael's improvised X-ray? A sniper rifle. Wow, already that's a letdown.
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Michael follows his latest crossword puzzle to his latest rendezvous, voice-overing about how the arrangements a covert operative makes for a meeting can tell you a lot about them. For instance, Michael's current decoded message is "Tiny Pelican, Lumnus Park ten a.m.," which according to his VO means "They've just got an irritating sense of humor." And an eye for detail, as Michael notices the public trash bins around the park that feature pelican mascots in janitor uniforms. Too bad -- I was hoping for a dirty anagram, or at least a clever one, as Michael vainly searched the crowd for a woman wearing antic lip dye or perhaps a pin-clad yeti, only to wind up feeling acidly inept.
.Instead, he's in a chess park, which is the kind of place I primarily know about from Searching for Bobby Fischer and so looks a little odd to me in sunny Miami. Wandering among the hustlers and patzers taking turns slapping their clocks, Michael is finally called to by a guy sitting alone at a table: "You look like you could use a partner," he says as Michael sits down across from him. He's a nondescript guy with brown hair, sunglasses, and a flowered guayabera. I should clarify that he looks nondescript to me, but apparently the actor, Michael Shanks, is kind of a big deal to Stargate SG-1 fans. Just so we know Carla sent him -- and won't be showing up herself, drat the luck -- he says that she wanted to leave Michael a harder clue, but he didn't want it to go over Michael's head. Plus, do you know how hard it is to find a plaid yen tic in this town on short notice? "Love the shirt," Michael deadpans. The guy threatens Michael, then laughs that he's kidding and invites him to sit, introducing himself as Victor. "You could think of me as a wrangler," Victor says. "I make sure the broncos don't buck too much, wander from the pen, that kind of thing." "Like a rodeo clown," Michael quips, setting up his side of the chessboard. Victor informs Michael that he's going to be helping with a little project (what, They weren't happy with the little keycard Michael got for Them four episodes ago?) and hands him a bedazzled red cell phone. Victor explains how it works: "I call, you answer. No, you do not get a return number." "You know, I already have plenty of these things," Michael states, sliding the phone back and adding he's not taking a job before knowing what it is. Victor slides it back to him as Michael VOs that when you're meeting a new operative, it's sometimes useful to open with an aggressive move. "You learn about people when you make them play defense. Their reflexes, weaknesses, how they handle themselves under pressure." This is exactly what happens as Michael grabs Victor's hand, turns it to expose his wrist, and presses the cross of his king against the skin. "You tell me about your bosses, or I open your radial artery," Michael threatens. And they say the king is a weak piece. As the camera cuts away furiously to the other players in the park slapping down their pawns, bishops, knights, and anvils, Michael guesses that Victor will bleed out in a minute or two. Victor sets Michael straight: "The people I work for, they're into the whole carrot-and-stick thing, and...I'm the stick." With that, Michael hears the cocking of a gun beneath the table, and Victor informs him that a .22 can do some damage up close, describing how it'll rattle around in Michaels femoral artery -- or worse, his naughty bits -- causing Michael to likely bleed out before Victor does. These two are going to get along great: like Michael, it seems that Victor also likes to act like an icy pedant, even if this meeting threatens to end up with them both iced. Despite having brought a chess piece to a gunfight, Michael's VO refuses to admit checkmate: "Even if they're able to counter, it never hurts to know how far they're willing to go." In other words, he meant to do that. Cue the subtitles: "Victor -- The Wrangler." Way to roll over like a little girl, subtitles. And now it's time for an epic linty ad. Don't worry, I'm done with the anagrams now.
Upon returning to the loft, Michael finds Sam in the courtyard waxing a Buick. No, that's not a euphemism. Apparently Veronica not only dumped Sam, she repossessed the CadillAxe, so now he's going to be driving a "pre-owned" vehicle. Hey, where's Saab when you need them? Michael tells Sam about his meeting with Victor, and his options for refusal: "Oh, the usual, they'll work through my friends and family with a nine-millimeter until I change my mind." Michael gets serious, and asks Sam to go over and be with his mom until he knows what's up. In fact, he's already dialing his cell phone (not the bedazzled red one), which he hands to Sam. Sam plays the part of the heartbroken lover who can't stand to bum Michael out any more and needs a new place to stay for a few days. Then he gets his petty revenge by handing the phone off to Michael. Here, talk to your mom. That'll learn ya.
Sam carries his luggage (and pillow, don't forget the pillow) up the front steps to Madeline's house. When he peeks inside the window, there's a guy inside, lying on the floor with a bundle of wiring. It's obvious to the most rank amateur that the guy's installing cable or something, but a seasoned operative like Sam knows enough to enter the house silently and put his gun to the guy's head, accusing him of setting up some kind of surveillance. Okay, Sam, if you say so. But judging from the sheer volume of cable in view, any transmissions would be sent back to a base that's strategically located in 1983. The visitor stands, claiming he's a friend of the family who came to talk to Michael. Sam's skeptical, but when he hears Madeline coming he quickly tucks his gun away and signals the visitor to play along like they're brand-new buddies. Madeline's holding a top-loading VCR that's about the size of a microwave, which she hands to her guest, Ricky. She explains to Sam that Ricky's older brother Andre was good friends with Michael when they were boys. But after stopping by to see Michael, he has offered to help with Madeline's "home theater." "Well, actually, I think it's time to upgrade," Ricky says mildly. Indeed. Madeline's setup looks like if she tried to tune into the USA network to watch this show she'd get Gilbert Gottfried on Up All Night instead.
Later, Michael meets up with Sam and Madeline and Ricky at a sidewalk café. I don't know how they found one. Michael asks what Ricky's brother Andre's up to. "25 to life up in Starke," Ricky says. Way to bring everyone down. Michael's sorry to hear it, and Madeline invites Michael to sit down while she and Sam go VCR-shopping. Once he's alone with Michael, Ricky says that he's a big-time accountant now with Sweet Valentine Enterprises, handing Michael his business card. Apparently Valentine himself is some kind of hip-hop mogul, which is news to Michael. "The radio in my car is broken," he explains politely. Somehow, after he's restored the Charger to mint condition twice (so far), I'm doubting this. Ricky assures Michael that it's the big time, but he's got a problem: Valentine asked him about two million dollars missing from an account, and Ricky said he'd look into it. But when he did, he found that the money is gone and someone's made it look like Ricky was the one who took it. That someone, Ricky is sure, is Eddie Ash, Valentine's top lieutenant and the only person Valentine trusts. Complicating things is the fact that Valentine is apparently an ex-gangster and will probably kill Ricky if he says anything. Why is it always the rap guys who are so dangerous, anyway? How come nobody on TV ever runs afoul of a country music mogul? You think those guys don't own just as many guns? Anyway, Michael suggests Ricky hire a forensic accountant, but Ricky says he just needs Eddie's records to bring to Valentine. And he needs Michael to steal them from Eddie's locked office for him. He offers Michael an envelope containing ten grand, but Michael demurs, "Let's see how the job goes first, all right?" The subtitles reading "Ricky -- The Client" slide in under Ricky's surprised face. It's nice of Michael to wait until he pulls this off before he turns down Ricky's money.
Hanging out at an espresso stand across from the Valentine offices with Michael, Fi is trying to shake him down for some payment on this so she can maybe pick up some items from the Valentine clothing line. "I bought you the espresso," Michael reminds her lamely. Oh, and he also gave her a car, and now Sam's stuck driving a crappy old Buick while Fi's perfectly serviceable Jeep Whatever gathers dust in the garage of her nonexistent home. Just then Valentine ("Valentine -- The Mogul," according to the always-hip subtitles) comes out of the building wearing a white suit and fedora, flashing a giant watch and smoking a cigar the size of your forearm. And he's played by Method Man, just in case that's not enough sheer presence for you. He's accompanied by a rap soundtrack and an entourage that includes a ratty little half-bearded white dude whose gold-framed sunglasses are wearing him. This, according to the subtitles, is "Eddie -- The Embezzler." Clearly the subtitles have never heard of presumed innocence. Read the Constitution some time, subtitles. As Michael and Fi watch them all climb into a waiting town car, Michael gets a call on his bedazzled phone: "Hollywood Beach, 15 minutes," says Victor before hanging up. Michael leaves Fi to wrap up the job of checking out Valentine's security. Well, I can already tell her that since he makes a big production of leaving via the front door, he's clearly not the paranoid type.
Victor is sunning himself in a beach chair, and when Michael approaches, he goes right into a very brief briefing: "There is a certain location. From this location an item is being shipped to another location:" "Whoa, slow down," Michael kids, but then wrecks it by seriously saying he gets it in the same breath. Victor continues that they're going to hijack the item, while drawing an unhelpful diagram in the sand with a stick. Michael asks what they're stealing. "Oh dear. Sounds like someone's got a case of the need-to-knows," Victor replies snottily. "Left untreated, that could be fatal, Michael. Dismissed." Wow, he made Michael drop what he was doing for that? That seems unnecessary. More likely he made Michael drop what he was doing just to make Michael drop what he was doing. Oh, and this: looking at his own phone, Victor adds that Michael should hurry if he wants to get back to Biscayne Boulevard. Michael gives his bedazzled phone a dirty look, as if he can disable the GPS he just realized is in there by glaring at it. Try taking off your sunglasses first, Michael.
Back in his loft, he's got the phone open on his workbench and is tinkering around with its bedazzled guts. Meanwhile, he's VOing that using cell phone towers to triangulate a phone's location is tricky. Much better to use an enhanced GPS, which must be the little chip that Michael has just uncovered. Seeing a tiny slip of paper inside the inner cover, Michael tweezes it out and reads the legend inked thereon: "LEAVE THE GPS ALONE MICHAEL " It's the ":(" that really underscores the idea of Victor as Someone Not To Be Fucked With. Besides, as Michael VOs, you might end up killing the phone entirely if you try to disconnect the GPS from the motherboard. "A much simpler solution is call forwarding," his VO concludes as he flips open his own silver model to set up just that. Meanwhile, Fi comes down to give Michael the bullet on the security setup at Valentine's office: Ricky's getting them door codes, and the security cameras are wireless. "Of course, the tactical support I'm giving you will cost you," she adds. Specifically, Fi wants a new pair of shoes. "You've got plenty of shoes," Michael says. "Well, now that I'm on the open market, I need more," she retorts. Michael looks around like, "How is that my problem?" Well, Michael, I could get into that, but since it dates back to your Dublin assignment way back before the beginning of the series, I think we'll just move on.
Cut to a chaotic scene outside Valentine's offices, with ambulances and fire engines and cop cars swarming all around in the street, sirens howling. Michael VOs that pulling a fire alarm is useless for emptying a building: "No one pays attention unless they're actually on fire. A bomb scare door to your target strikes the right balance. Everyone clears out and then pays attention to the other building." That would explain all the cops and firefighters trying to herd the milling civilians off the street outside "Dade Trust," which is right door to Sweet Valentine Enterprises. Michael wanders onto this scene while on his cell phone with Fi, who says she called in a bomb threat. I love how cavalier they are about shit like that. "Oh, I called in a bomb threat." Oh, we're faking a bank robbery." "Oh, I'll call down a drug bust on some random boater." If you or I did that, I hope we'd at least feel a little bad about it. Fi clarifies that the bomb she claimed to have planted is a remote-activated model before hanging up. That segues into a Michael VO explaining that odd-looking piece of equipment the bomb-squad guy is turning on nearby: "Most modern bomb squads are equipped with an RF jammer. It blocks a wide spectrum of radio frequencies, preventing anyone from detonating bombs by remote control." It also appears to render cell phones useless, judging from the consternation of the people trying to call home and from Michael's VO. "Or wireless security cameras," he adds, one of which he walks right by as it blinks helplessly, allowing him to enter Valentine's offices unobserved through the back entrance. Sorry, but there's no way to not make that sound dirty.
Once inside, Michael consults what is presumably a Ricky-drawn floor plan to find his way directly to Eddie's office. He quickly picks the lock on the door, then finds himself facing a padlock on Eddie's file cabinet. While an awkwardly edited voice-over talks about people's misplaced faith in padlocks (I'm guessing there was another VO here that was probably cut for being too...uh, helpful), Michael quickly gets past it and starts using the cell phone to photograph the contents of one of Eddie's files. Good to know that the RF jammer doesn't disable the camera function. But there's another issue: outside, Eddie has returned early. Seeing the building's guards loitering outside, he angrily orders them back to their posts. They arrive back in the office just as Michael's locking the file cabinet back up. They hear the closing drawer inside, and he hears them talking about hearing the closing drawer outside, and he realizes that he needs to find an alternate exit, quickly. He voice overs that air ducts are 18 inches wide. "So if you need to make a quick escape and you're older than four, you're not going to fit." Fortunately there's always the subceiling, so Michael John Benders himself right out of there. Only the commercials hit before he crashes noisily into the library in a shower of curses and acoustic tile.
Afterward, Michael shows Ricky the results of his expedition, and it's not much. All they have to go on is a prospectus for a tanning salon and a car wash, which tells Michael that Eddie is looking to get his money laundered. But it's not enough to prove anything to Valentine. So Michael tells Ricky that his move will be to offer his services to Eddie as a money launderer. Wait, doesn't Michael already know a money launderer?
Well, yes, and here he is, and Michael's having a walk-and-talk with him. "Barry -- The Money Launderer," say the subtitles, because they think we're Guy Pearce in Memento. Michael is trying to convince Barry to use his connections so Michael can play money launderer himself for Eddie's benefit, but Barry isn't biting: "And the day, you do the Michael Westen thing, stuff starts exploding, and everyone's saying, 'Hey, Barry, wasn't that guy a friend of yours?' Sorry, no can do." I do enjoy Barry. He's so subtly neurotic. Michael leans on him until he gets this offer from Barry to get someone to vouch for him: "Why don't we say five grand. Promise nothing will happen to him, maybe I can do three." "Five it is," Michael says, and dashes off before Barry can change his mind. He's awfully free with Ricky's money, isn't he? Oh, wait.
Michael shows up at Madeline's house to find Sam whipping up some Madras curry, because Madeline's got him hooked on cooking shows. Sam also shows Michael the gun stashed under his apron and says he does an hourly perimeter check. Madeline and her attendant cloud of smoke flounce in just long enough for Sam and Michael to pretend not to be talking about anything, and once she's gone, Sam hands Michael the folder and business card for this week's cover ID: Jimmy Glynn, in real estate, cash churning, and "vague Boston mob connections just for good measure." Sounds like a vague Boston accent is in order. Fortunately, we've come to the right place.
As Michael moves through a flashy club to meet up with Eddie, he VOs about how important it is to get a good read on your target in the moments before you meet him: "Is he insecure? Does he have something to prove?" Judging from the way Eddie's looking like a desperate wallflower even in a VIP alcove, that might just be the case here. Michael goes up to Eddie, working sort of an indeterminate East Coast accent as they greet each other in a way that indicates this meeting was predetermined. Michael acts like he's trying to jolly Eddie along by talking about all the ladies he must get in the music business, but Eddie wants to change the subject (because he's insecure and has something to prove). Michael goes right into his sales pitch: he can get Eddie an untraceable return on his investment in six months, plus a 30-40 percent profit, "minus my cut." Sounds good to Eddie, but when Michael asks for $2 million in cash by the end of the week, Eddie scoffs. Michael acts offended at Eddie's small-time attitude and is about to leave, but Eddie tells him to stay, assuring him that it's not the money but the time frame. Michael says sorry, but he moves fast. He can't be giving people time to Google him, after all. Eddie says he wants to see the real estate first, and they drink to that. Hey, what's Ricky going to say when two Johnnie Walker Blues show up on Michael's expense report? Oh, wait.
day, Michael and Eddie are touring a condo that looks like one of those places that ran out of money in the middle of construction. How did they gain entry? Michael's VO: "There's nothing in the world easier to get into than an empty condo that's been on the market for six months. Never mind picking the lock; you can just call and ask for the keys." Looking like Pepe LePew in a dark shirt and suit with a white tie, Michael gives Eddie a hard (but vague) sell about how he'll take Eddie's money under the table, then buy the property and flip it. Eddie wants to think about it, but before Michael can rush him for more than a few seconds, Eddie gets a page and has to bounce. A moment later Michael gets a call from Ricky from Valentine's office, reporting that a pissed-off Valentine is calling an emergency meeting in ten minutes. Oh, come on, what kind of emergency can wait ten minutes? Still, Michael figures that's where Eddie's off to. Ricky can't decide if he should make the meeting or skip out. Michael unhelpfully tells him it's his call, and when Ricky decides to attend, Michael tells him to leave his phone on and he and Fi will be listening in, ready to provide backup. "But if it looks like something's going bad down there, get out." Well, that should be easy enough. "Valentine, sorry, but I gotta hit the bathroom. Can you kill me when I get back?"
Fi pulls the Saab up to the curb across from Valentine's office with Michael in the shotgun seat, which is going to turn out to be kind of ironic in a minute. She wants to go in shooting right now, but Michael would rather hang back and listen to what's going on in the conference room.
Inside, Ricky slides his cell phone into the middle of the conference table and looks around nervously. Good thing there are actual spies helping him with this situation. Nobody notices his shifty conduct, though, because Valentine has commenced a speech inspired by DeNiro as Al Capone in The Untouchables. Removing one of the platinum records from the wall behind him, Valentine warns the group, "Last chance to come clean, people." Nobody does. And meanwhile, out in the car, Fi is already loading her shotgun. Dammit, Fi, clearly Michael already called shotgun. Inside, Valentine zeroes in on a guy at the conference table named Marcus, accusing him of trying to defect to another label by bringing one of Valentine's artists -- the one whose platinum album Valentine is currently brandishing -- with him. Marcus seems to have no idea what Valentine's talking about, but Valentine heard it from Eddie, so he figures it must be true. "What do I do to thieves, Eddie?" Valentine asks without taking his eyes off of Marcus. "What you have to, Valentine," Eddie says in his best Iago impersonation. "Rick, what you think?" Valentine asks, because if he asks anyone else that means giving a line to an extra and that isn't about to happen on USA. Ricky plays it cool, saying, "I think you're in a conference room full of witnesses, V." Valentine thanks Ricky for the appeal to his better nature and kicks Marcus out, but not before smashing that platinum record and its glass case over Marcus's head. Yikes, that could have given new meaning to the term "severance." He then tells everyone else to get out of the conference room -- except Ricky.
Outside, that's all Fi needs to hear; she's got her gun loosely wrapped in a sack and is already stomping across the street with it. Inside, Valentine is giving Ricky two days to resolve the "bank error." Michael catches up with Fi in the middle of the street and orders her, "Stand down!" Somehow that gets through to her. Now that Ricky is alone in the conference room, he confirms that Michael heard what just happened. "Sounded like Eddie was letting Valentine know who he could trust," Michael observes. Ricky's worried about Valentine killing him when he finds out the money's really gone, and Michael promises not to let that happen. "I'm meeting with Eddie tonight," he says. He does not ask Ricky for an advance.
Which is too bad, because that meeting is taking place at another expensive club (or maybe the same one; it might as well be, I suppose), where Michael is presenting Eddie with some paperwork. Suddenly a waitress appears with a big fruity drink for Michael. Looking over to see who sent it, Michael spots Victor. "Could you hold this for a second," Michael asks Eddie, his Boston bluster momentarily gone. He goes to intercept Victor, who looks a lot better with regular glasses on instead of those shades. "You should have called," Michael says. Victor holds up the bedazzled phone he gave Michael and says, "You ever pull another stunt like that, Michael, and uh..." He gives what he thinks is a scary chuckle and advises him not to do it again. I'm sure we're supposed to think that Victor somehow got around Michael's sneaky little plan, but Occam's Razor suggests that Michael just screwed up the call forwarding and poor little Bedazzled has been forlornly playing "My Humps" on Michael's workbench all evening. His point made, Victor wiggles the keys to a Chevy Impala in front of Michael and tells them they're going for a ride tomorrow. Michael says he's busy, which doesn't impress Victor. In fact, he's already learned all about Michael's cover by talking to his waitress. And with that, he loudly Bostons, "You're a real wicked skinnah, you know that, Jimmy?" Stepping over to where Eddie can clearly hear and see him, Victor yells at "Jimmy" for being an FBI magnet. Pretending to notice Eddie for the first time, he says, "Tell him if he doesn't want the Feds camped out in his back yahd he should stay the hell away from Jimmy Glynn!" Eddie walks out without a word, shoving Michael's papers back at him as he goes by. Satisfied that Michael's schedule is clear, Victor takes his leave. Well, at least he was nice enough not to totally blow Michael's cover. Oh, and Michael? Are you going to finish that drink?
Ricky, Michael, and Fi sit at a bar the day discussing the situation. Or actually, Michael and Ricky discuss it while Fi peruses a Valentine catalog. Michael tells Ricky to stay calm, and leaves him in Fi's capable hands. Oh, wait, I meant "grasping hands," as she asks him about whether he gets a company discount. It's like she spends all her spare time inventing new ways to be tiresome.
As Michael waits for Eddie in an underground parking garage, he VOs, "When your cover's compromised, often the best defense is a good offense. Admit nothing, deny everything. Make counter-accusations." With that, Michael stomps up to Eddie to his car, accusing him of turning the feds on him. "Now I gotta kill my deals, all my investors are lost, I gotta move my money offshore!" He even puts a gun up against Eddie's throat and asks whether Eddie talked to anyone. Eddie of course stammers that nobody has even approached him, and after selling it for another few seconds, Michael pockets the gun and suddenly they're friends again. "Jimmy" says they need to stick together, and instructs Eddie to keep his eyes open and let him know if he sees any sign of law enforcement. While walking away, Michael gets on his cell phone and asks Sam to take his mom on a little field trip for him. See, Michael wants to make sure Eddie does see some sign of law enforcement.
Later, as Eddie and Valentine leave a restaurant and part ways, Michael VOs that "once somebody's watching for cops, they see them everywhere." Sure enough, Eddie spots a black Buick parked across the street with a couple of people in dark clothes and sunglasses, one of whom is shooting pictures of him with a long lens. Of course the photographer is only Sam, and the woman in the passenger seat hasn't done much detective work since her Chris Cagney days. "Their paranoia does most of the work for you," Michael's VO explains. Of course Sam is keeping Madeline in the dark (and not just in terms of wardrobe) about the reason for this expedition, saying he's just looking at hotels and condos, which is how he's explaining the camera. "If you really want to find a new place, you're going to have to eventually go inside one, you know," Madeline advises. Still snapping away, Sam convincingly pleads a lack of emotional readiness.
Michael and Victor are sitting in that aforementioned Impala at the shipyard as Victor explains the deal: the item they're looking for is being shipped tomorrow. Victor will break into yon warehouse and nab it while Michael stays with the car and does lookout duty. Michael offers to take it himself, but Victor isn't about to let him peek. After that, they'll drive to the drop point, abandon the car, and split up. "Questions?" he asks. I have one: for this you burned a top agent? I could handle this mission in Grand Theft Auto, and I am the worst Grand Theft Auto player in the universe. Okay, fine, I'm not going to get an answer, so let's move on to Michael's question: "What are we taking again?" Yeah, that's not going to be answered either, as Victor says Michael already has all the information he needs. Quietly noticing a stack of blue plastic barrels standing out in the middle of the pavement, Michael argues that he needs more: "How heavy is the cargo? Are we talking about a big metal container or something fragile? If it's explosives, it will affect how I drive." Victor tells him it's just a wooden crate with no explosives. Seeing a security vehicle roll into view with two uniformed rent-a-cops inside, Michael asks what to do if the guards show up. Victor says to let him know, and as he pulls out his little .22, he clarifies, "I take care of them." Victor watches too many movies.
Back at the loft, Michael's working on altering that Impala. His voiceover says, as it's said before, that knowing what someone wants can tell you a lot about them. "So if what they want comes in a wooden crate that you're not going to be allowed to open, you might have to turn your trunk into a makeshift x-ray machine." Really? I might? Oh, man, I hate when I have to do that. We watch Michael pull the subfloor out of the Impala's trunk and start gathering his components. First up is an old picture tube, which Michael hides under the trunk's subfloor as his VO explains that among other things, it emits x-rays powered by 30,000 volts of electricity. But he claims that if you boost the power by hooking it up to a 100,000-volt taser gun -- which he duct-tapes to the base of the driver's seat where it'll be out of Victor's view after wiring it up -- "you won't be able to diagnose a hairline fracture, but you'll get the basic idea." Really? It's that easy? Don't I need, like, film or something? And a lead apron? And the proper amplitude? And someone to call 911 when I inevitably electrocute myself? Michael is just finishing up this project when his cell phone rings. The caller ID tells him to answer in his Jimmy voice. Yes, it's Eddie, wanting to meet immediately. Hope there's a club nearby.
At the nearby club (natch), Eddie tells Michael about the "FBI tail" he spotted, and begs him to help move his money. Michael declines, saying he's got enough heat on himself with his own money. As Eddie begs, Michael VOs, "Criminals are, as a rule, paranoid and self-serving, so if you're using a criminal cover ID, you can't be too helpful." So Michael shoots Eddie down again, saying it's too risky. "Luckily," Michael's VO continues, "you can usually count on the other guy not to let you off easy." Sure enough, Eddie threatens to tell the Feds about "Jimmy," so Michael folds and says he's got a set up all ready in the Seychelles. Eddie likes the sound of that, and just needs to take care of one more "loose end" before they can make the transfer of funds. Michael almost breaks character as he realizes that Eddie is about to have Ricky offed, but then he remembers to congratulate him on his initiative. "Look at you, moving up," he says. He offers to call some women to throw a party, and when Eddie goes to get a new bottle, Michael instead calls Fi to dispatch her to Ricky's, telling her there's a hit squad on the way there. Fi says she'll bring some firepower, but Michael warns her not to look like she's helping him. "Do something else. Anything else." Oh, and send some women over to meet Michael and Eddie while you're at it.
A motley bunch of hip-hop types is sneaking up to Ricky's house with guns drawn as Michael VOs, "In any kind of covert operation, one of the toughest challenges is using information that you're not supposed to have." With that, the guys are outlined by a set of headlights sweeping past as Fi's Saab pulls up outside the house, hitting the trash cans for added drama while the guys hide in the bushes. "If going in guns blazing will blow your cover," Michael's VO continues, "sometimes you've got to get creative." So why send Fi? Actually, she has come up with a solution, because when she's not allowed to use guns or explosives, she always has her ass to fall back on. Such as it is. Stumbling out of the car, she pulls down her miniskirt enough to expose her thong as she yells at Ricky's house like she's a jilted girlfriend. After ranting for a minute, she hurls a rock through Ricky's front window, triggering the alarm and sending Eddie's guys scampering away from the scene. That alarm turned out to be a pretty good investment, there, Ricky.
morning, Ricky's at Michael's loft with Michael and Fi as they talk about their little catch-22: Eddie wants to move his money, but won't do it while Ricky's alive. "The only way to clear my name is to die a violent death?" Ricky asks. Hey, it doesn't have to be violent. Borrow one of the more elderly cups of yogurt from the back of Michael's fridge and it'll be over before you know it. But Michael's already got the tactical judo figured out: "Eddie has a Ricky problem," he says. "We'll help him solve it." He asks if Ricky can find out when Valentine is leaving the office today. When Ricky says he can, Michael gets on his cell and asks Sam to "stash [his] mom someplace safe for a couple of hours." Like a smoke shop. Perfect camouflage.
Michael again catches up with Eddie in the parking garage, and "informs" him that he's "found" Eddie's FBI leak: "It's an accountant named Ricky Watkins." Not exactly news to Eddie, but Michael warns him that he has to get rid of Ricky before they can move the money. Eddie protests that he tried and it didn't work out. Michael says it's up to Eddie now, and even offers him a gun that he stole from a drug dealer. Wow, how gullible is Eddie? "Hi, Eddie, let me have your money. Oops, we're being tailed by the Feds, so let me move your money. Okay, now you're going to have to kill this guy, so take this gun." Of course it's not like Eddie has time to consider all this, because when he hesitates, Michael cruelly mocks him for living off Valentine's "table scraps." Eddie defensively shows off his car and his limited-edition watch. As a general rule, whenever somebody is trying to use their car and watch to win an argument, they're probably not going to. And I say this as the proud owner of a Saturn and a Pulsar. Indeed. Michael's not acting impressed: "You're still living like a rat in the shadows, not manning up to your business!" Finally he provokes Eddie to take a swing at him, and Michael takes the punch. Michael basically stands there as Eddie starts going to town on him -- or rather, Eddie's version of going to town, which is more like starting to go to town but then getting to the end of the driveway and having your horse throw a shoe. Michael VOs, "One of the most difficult skills to master in combat is taking a dive." I don't know, I think I'd be pretty good at it. Michael boredly endures some painless body blows before taking a token swing over Eddie's head and finally falling to the ground the time Eddie lands a punch. Apparently that's given Eddie the confidence he needs in order to do what Michael's telling him he needs to do. "Where's the gun?" Eddie asks as he gives Michael a hand up. Michael wisely bears most of his own weight getting to his feet.
As Valentine and a couple of bodyguards step onto the sidewalk outside his office, Fi struts by, sucking a lollipop. "Merci beaucoup, Sugar Bloomers," Valentine says to her, which is the worst pickup line ever. I guess when you're that rich and famous you don't have to try any more. She gives the line the attention it deserves. As he's about to get into his car, he's accosted by the guy in the car behind his. Of course it's Sam, playing the "obnoxious-guy diversion" thing yet again as he pretends to recognize Valentine. While Fi leans against a nearby light post to watch, Sam yells at Valentine, "You're what's wrong with our country, pal. You call that music?" Valentine asks "old-timer" what he listens to. Sam lists off Barbara Mandrell, Kenny G, and Captain & Tenille. "Whoa, that's, like, too gangsta for me right there, man," Valentine deadpans. Sam keeps pushing. "I got something for you -- a melody?" he mocks, reaching into his pocket. Valentine's had enough, and orders his guards to move in. While Valentine watches them drag Sam back toward his car, Fi comes up and puts a gun against Valentine's head. "Bonjour," she says. Then Sam makes his own move, single-handedly throwing the two guards to the street and drawing on them. "Want to take a ride, Sugar Bloomers?" Fi asks Valentine. Well, that was easy.
Michael has apparently ridden with Eddie to Ricky's house, and gives him an encouraging gesture as Eddie hides the gun in his jacket and dashes up to Ricky's door. When Ricky opens it. Eddie points the gun at him sideways like The Littlest Gangster, backing Ricky into the house. Ricky plays the part of the frightened victim, trying to talk Eddie down and saying nobody needs to know, as Eddie makes him kneel on the living-room floor. Eddie chuckles that he almost wishes they did know, so he could take the credit for a scam that Ricky never could have pulled off. He asks Ricky why he pushed it by going to the FBI. "Because it's not your money," Ricky says, quite convincingly. Eddie yells that in fact it is his money: he built the company, made Valentine what he is. Now Valentine is worth half a billion dollars, and Eddie's living on table scraps. "Between me and you, Ricky. I don't even like the music any more. Can't stand it." Wow, good thing Valentine isn't here to hear this. Finally Eddie takes aim at Ricky's head and pulls the trigger. Okay, this is the worst plan ever. Fortunately, Ricky only flinches, because he's unharmed. Oh, yeah, Michael gave Eddie the gun. Duh. Confused, Eddie fires a few more blanks at Eddie, and is still trying to figure out what's going on when the hulking figure of Valentine walks quietly into the room, followed by Michael and Fi. Realizing Valentine must have heard everything he just said -- which would explain the crazy-angry eyes Valentine keeps flashing down at him -- Eddie immediately turns to jelly. "Everybody out," Valentine says. "Except you, Eddie." Under the circumstances, Ricky doesn't object to being kicked out of his own house. I'm surprised he doesn't warn Valentine about the draft from the front window.
Back at the loft, Ricky reports that Valentine and Eddie went for a little cruise on Valentine's yacht, and only Valentine came back. Damn, that is so street, isn't it? How many rap jams have we heard boasting about sailing some punk-ass bitch out to the Gulf Stream and sending them off to Davy Jones's Lizzocker? That's straight hardcore, y'all. But apparently it's good enough for Ricky; he continues having gainful employment with a known murderer, and gets to hope that his performance review doesn't include the sentence "Resolved a major financial discrepancy by hiring people who ended up assaulting my guards and kidnapping me at gunpoint." Ricky pulls out his cash envelope for Michael again, and again Michael declines. Seeing the look Fi's giving him, Michael amends that to "Fi needs new shoes, cover our expenses, we'll call it even." Just for shits and giggles, let's run down those expenses: a couple of rounds of Blue, some blank ammunition, a white tie, and five grand for Barry. Christ, Michael, take the fucking envelope. But instead, Ricky hands Fi a few bills. I hope he remembered to deduct the cost of the window she broke for him. Michael tells Ricky to say hello to his brother, gives him an awkward soul hug, and Ricky's off.
As soon as the door closes, Fi presents Michael with a little gift: "The incendiary rounds you asked for. Sounds like you're planning quite a party." She wants to come along, but Michael says it's invite-only. He has to perform some awkward dialogue and even more awkward blocking as he explains to Fi that Victor's ready to kill to get the crate, and Michael needs to look inside without triggering any carnage. "So shoot Victor and take a look. What's the problem?" Fi says predictably. Michael isn't willing to declare that kind of war on Them yet. All but prying the box of shells from her hands, he says, "wish me luck." Which she doesn't.
At the docks, Victor cocks his little .22 "Cute gun," Michael tweaks, pumping his giant shotgun. "Look at you," Victor says, declining to play "mine's bigger." Taking a battery-powered rotary saw from the trunk, he runs across to the warehouse and goes to work on the padlock. Mere moments later, that same security car comes into view, and the guards are going to see Victor and his shower of sparks in a moment. Michael reaches into the car for his shotgun and goes into a VO: "Notorious for causing brush fires, 12-gauge incendiary rounds create a small explosion that burns at three thousand degrees." Michael now fires one of those rounds at the security car's front tire, which does quite a bit more than spring a leak. Victor looks over at the blast, but keeps working on the lock. "People don't drive when their tires are on fire," Michael adds as the guards stumble out of their burning car. Man, the things you learn on this show. Victor is just getting through the lock when the guards spot him. Michael turns his aim on his target, that stack of blue barrels. He gives a little speech in VO about water sealant and how it's both fairly ubiquitous in Miami and quite flammable. Of course he's wasting his breath, because anybody who's ever played a first-person shooter knows what Michael needs to do: shoot the explodey barrels. Which he forthwith does. This has the doubly beneficial effect of hurling the stunned guards to the pavement and providing Victor cover behind a curtain of flame while he grabs a wooden crate, heaves it onto his shoulder, and dashes back to the car. Michael pops the trunk for him and Victor throws the crate in while Michael slides behind the wheel and hits the button on the taser taped to the seat to him. Bzzt. Smile, mysterious contents of crate! Victor jumps in to Michael, none the wiser. At least not until he mysteriously develops a giant tumor on his ass from the massive dose of x-ray radiation he was just unwittingly exposed to. By the time the guards are able to regain their feet and fire more than a couple of ill-aimed shots, the Impala is already through the gate and out of view.
As Michael and Victor get out of the car in a darkened warehouse, they're arguing after the fact about Michael's tactics. "A little harmless gunfire attracts less attention than a double homicide," Michael points out. Hurling the crate into the van that Michael's parked to (so clearly the item is really not fragile at all),Victor gets into Michael's face and spits, "I warned you what would happen if you pulled another stunt." Actually, he didn't, specifically. But just when it looks like we're about to find out, Victor says, "But that one had style!" and totally cracks up, reenacting how awesome it was and giggling so madly that even Michael can't suppress a little smile. "Bet you're dying for a peek inside, huh?" Victor finally taunts. Michael acts sanguine: "Nope. You know what you're meant to know." Victor's too flush with success to be suspicious of Michael's sudden lack of curiosity, and drives off in the van with a jaunty "See you around."
From there, Michael changes into a pink polo shirt and goes straight to Madeline's for dinner, where Sam is serving up his latest recipe. But no sooner has he set the Westens up with their entrees than he doffs his apron, saying he's going to go check out a townhouse. Madeline congratulates him on this big step, but says he forgot something. "Looks like bullets," she observes pleasantly, dropping a handful of rounds into his hand. "I found them in your pants." What have these two been up to? "I heard them rattling around in the washing machine when I was doing your laundry," she says. Oh, thank God there's an innocent explanation. If Sam and Madeline became an item, Michael would be likely to do something desperate, like getting back together with Fi. Busted, Sam doesn't know what to say. "I don't know what to say," he says. Michael barely looks up from his plate long enough to say, "I'd say nothing. Nothing's good. Go with nothing." That's what Sam goes with. What, a person can't walk around with bullets in his pocket? I do it all the time. They're so much more convenient than exact change.
After Sam's gone, Madeline tells Michael she had a lovely time with Sam, but she'd appreciate it if he told her time he's having her babysat. She can't believe he didn't think she'd figure it out, and I'd have to agree with her there. Michael may know plenty about espionage, but he's got a lot to learn about TV. Still, Madeline appreciates Michael's protective feelings toward her, and their arc for the episode ends on another up note. Aren't they about due for a falling-out by now? Like, sixteen episodes ago?
day, Fi walks into the loft as Michael's doing his workout. "Did you bring the thing?" he asks her. Fi mentions that she's got a friend at a veterinary clinic as she hands Michael a big film tube. Michael quickly opens it and slaps the film up against the nearest window, using it as a makeshift light wall. So what was in that crate, in the end? A nuke? An alien skeleton? Tricia Helfer? Nope, it's just a sniper rifle. Which can only mean one thing: Bullshit! "That's an awful lot of trouble to go to for a gun," Fi observes, because she remembers that when she got a sniper rifle for Michael four weeks ago it wasn't even worthy of airtime. "Must be for quite the occasion," she adds. Actually, that's a good point, if that occasion is bullshit! "And they sure don't want me to know what it is," Michael agrees. Sure, Michael. That's why they gave you the getaway car to fuck around with for more than twenty-four hours before the job went down. Still, that silhouette is a pretty thin clue, even glowing there on the window like a lit candy pie.
(Sorry. Couldn't resist.)
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, or just e-mail him at M.Giant[at]gmail.com
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