Bienvenido a Miami de nuevo! Picking up only days after we left off before the winter break, we find Fiona recuperating in bed from her flesh wound, thanks to Nurse Michael. Sam has been asking around about the death of Michael's CIA contact (who took a header off a roof), and while Michael's not a suspect, his plan to get "back in" is definitely dead. So Michael agrees to take on a job Fiona took before she decided to leave for Ireland (which is no longer an option). The job involves an insurance scammer forcing a widow to file a wrongful death suit against the city for her husband's death and turn over the settlement to him. Michael takes on the persona of a tanktop-wearing wheelman to get in good with the insurance scammer (a.k.a. Mr. Sordid Past from the current 24) and his boss/father (Mike Novick from the 24 of yore), and helps them collect money from bikers and even come up with new and creative insurance scams. But when a bug planted by the newly ambulatory Fi reveals that they're gonna run one of Michael's scams themselves, Michael and Sam have to do a little demolition derby to stop some poor sucker from getting nudged in front of a train.
Meanwhile, Sam was unable to charm an old widow at the city records office to get info on a shady doctor who gives a lot of shady diagnoses, so Michael's mom is asked to give it a shot. After all, they have a lot in common: they're the same age, shop at the same stores, smoke the same cigarettes and appeared on the same '80s cop drama. (Sharon Gless and Tyne Daly, together again!) Unfortunately, the two become BFFs, so when Michael needs Madeline to blackmail her new friend into turning over the medical records, Madeline gets really pissed off, since it'll end their friendship and get her friend fired. To her credit, she then does her best impersonation of a stone-cold blackmailer and gets the files, but she won’t talk to Michael for a while. By demolition derbying the scammer into a city vehicle and dumping the files in his car, Michael gets the scammer and his dad arrested, thereby ending all of their scams. And to make things up to his mom, Michael breaks into the city records building to cover up her ex-friend's file theft.
Meanwhile, Sam's perused the call log on Stricklen's cell phone to get a lead on the cleaner who killed Michael's CIA contact. But when Michael goes to check out the guy's hotel, the cleaner is not only not there, he was expecting Michael, and he's rigged his hotel room to catch fire when Michael got there. Tracking the assassin's cell phone with Sam, they find it at an abandoned amphitheater, where he calls Michael to be menacingly British before placing a few sniper rounds into the seating. (He hasn't decided whether or not to kill Michael.) But after Sam figures out from various clues that the assassin is a fabled killer named Gilroy -- and that he knows where Michael lives -- Gilroy calls up Michael and tells him he wants to meet.
-- Zach Oat
For this half-season premiere, I thought I'd travel to Florida. Now, I'm not in Miami, but up on the Gulf Coast, where there are a lot more walkers than sports cars and any hot young things in town are only here to visit their grandparents. Kind of a different vibe, but at least it's warm. And hey, remember what happened at the end of last season? If not, this episode has one of its rare sets of previouslies. Which I will not recap, because that's what the recaps are for.
The opening sets the mood with some obligatory Miami porn, over-edited as always with salsa music as the backdrop. What puts me in a much better mood is that this segues into Fiona in her bed. In pain. Michael's putting some fresh stitches in the bullet hole in her arm, which you'd think would have healed in the five months since we last saw them. But some expository dialogue lets us know it's only been a couple of weeks for them, even though she's still managed to pop the stitches twice. Michael tells her to hold still lest she do some serious damage, and of course she threatens any damage will be done to him. He finishes up and invites her to go ahead, then easily blocks the punch she throws up at him. She says he's lucky the sedatives are kicking in, and as she starts to drift off, Michael VOs about the advantages of doing your own field medicine: "No conversations with the police, the food's better, and the relationship between patient and caregiver is very close." Then Fi throws another punch, which, since his guard was down this time, connects. "Gotcha," she says smugly. Dude, what is up with her, anyway? Stitch up your own arm, asshole. "That last one can be a disadvantage as well," Michael's VO adds. Yes, especially when it's Fi.
Michael emerges from the sickroom (or sicko-room, as the case may be) to see Sam waiting for him at Fi's kitchen table. Sam admits that he "actually felt a little bad" when he thought she was leaving town. Funny, I feel worse now that I know she can never return to Ireland. Sam's been working on some research while Michael was working on Fi, and has learned that Diego Garza's death is being investigated by various intelligence agencies. The good news, at least, is that there were enough witnesses who saw Michael at the scene to rule him out as a suspect. The bad news? "Operation Unburn Michael Westen is officially off," Sam says. His current project is looking through the phone Michael took from Strickler, hoping to find out who killed Diego. The best lead among all the chaff is a hotel in South Beach. Sam offers to come along as backup, but Michael would rather Sam hang back and take care of Fi. Yeah, so would I. Oh, wait, he doesn't mean "take care of" her in that way. Never mind.
Michael enters the lobby of a swanky hotel in his usual spy-business outfit of a suit and no tie. "Getting information out of hotels," he VOs, "requires a delicate touch. One whiff that you're snooping, and you'll just hear a lot of 'we can't give out that information.' You need to get them on your side. Convince them that you're someone that needs customer service." With that, Michael approaches the desk clerk with a lame story about looking for a friend. "Mr. Westen?" she interrupts. "We've been expecting you." She hands him an envelope with his name on it. Wow, that wasn't nearly as hard as he was making out. "Of course, when the hotel clerk turns out to be expecting you, that makes things a little easier," his VO concedes. She explains to him that he was described as "six-one, exquisitely dressed, with impeccable posture." Michael opens the envelope to find a note with nothing on it but the handwritten words "Room 302." So far we know that the person he's looking for is a diabolical kiss-ass.
As Michael slowly makes his way down the hallway of the third floor (the better to leave enough time for the voice-over), he gives us a little speech we've heard before about making first contact in the intelligence community. "Whatever the method, that first contact tells you a lot about a person." And as he approaches Room 302, whose door is open, the whole room suddenly bursts into flame. Luckily Michael wasn't in it yet. "Especially when someone introduces himself by firebombing a hotel room," his VO concludes. And that tells him what, exactly? That his quarry is The Who?
After the titles and the ads, we're at Michael's loft. Fi's curled up in one of his chairs as Michael says nobody saw the arsonist, but the room was registered under a name that Sam recognizes as belonging to a nuclear scientist who was killed in 1999. In a hotel room fire, coincidentally enough. "I think Mike's new friend is telling us that he was involved," Sam says, his voice not even wavering despite that limb he's out on. Rather than continue discussing these matters of life and death, Fi changes the subject to something more important: a favor she needs from Michael. He wants him to meet a client of hers about an insurance scam. "I would do it myself, but in my current state..." she hints pathetically, cradling her tiny little arm bandage. Michael points out that she was about to leave the country, but apparently this was one last gig she was going to do. "But someone got outed as an American spy and now I can't go home," she reminds him, like it's Michael's fault a violent psychopath went after Fi. Excuse me, another violent psychopath. Sam reminds Fi that they also saved her life in the process, but she doesn't care about that. She just tells Michael to go to the impound lot. Well, that part at least sounds totally above board.
Okay, actually, Fi's client turns out to be one of those innocent doe-eyed female types who wears dresses everywhere, so it'll be fine. She just wanted to show Michael the remains of her husband's car, whose front end is completely squished. Which would explain how her husband got killed in it. Apparently he was taking part in an insurance scam and ended up dying in the pre-planned crash that was supposed to be part of a fraudulent claim. Not pre-planned enough, apparently. Michael makes sympathetic faces as she continues that recently, a guy in a Corvette showed up at her house, wanting her to sue the city for wrongful death and give him the money. Threatened her family and everything. Didn't even say sorry for her loss, presumably. Can Fi help? Michael tries a variation on the usual speech he gives when taking a case: "I'll see what she can do." But the subtitles still take it, saying this is now "Calia -- The Client."
After she leaves, Michael pulls out his cell phone and dispatches Sam to the county records office to score some insurance files. Sam protests, saying those aren't exactly public knowledge. Is he saying that we've finally found the one government institution in South Florida where Sam doesn't have a "buddy"? I guess so, because Michael simply suggests, "Use your Sam magic," and hangs up. "Why didn't I think of that?" Sam asks his dead phone.
Michael's busy at his loft, VOing, "The day that the cell phone call log was invented should be celebrated as a national holiday for spies." Wouldn't that make it an international holiday? "Even a cautious cell phone user who uses dial back systems or switches phones often leaves behind a lot of information you can use." Fi comes downstairs to find Michael doing just that, and suggests Michael hand it off to Homeland Security. Michael says, "For all I know he could be working for Homeland Security." Yes, that's dark and all, but it's just the latest example of Fi trying to talk Michael out of doing something that Michael's not going to get talked out of doing, preferring to explain to Fi (read: us) why he's doing it.
Sam enters the loft in his Chuck Finley suit and hair, reporting that he came up empty at the county records office, describing the woman he tried and failed to shake down: "She's 65, a widow, and completely immune to my charming ways." How can all three of those things be true? Unless Madeline is moonlighting at the records office. Fi gives Sam a hard time about his failure, like he wasn't doing this as a favor for her in the first place, but Sam assures Michael that he's already got a plan B in mind. "But you're not going to like it." Someone else is going to like it even less.
Cut to Michael at his mom's kitchen table, as she turns out to be kind of resistant to this new chance to be part of the team. "You want me to lie to some woman at the county records office?" she protests. "What did she do?" Michael explains that she has access to information they need, and Madeline's in the target demograp
hic. Michael assures her that it's for a good cause. Madeline's only answer, for now, is to take a drag on her cigarette."Ironic" cut to the no-smoking sign at the county records office as Madeline enters the day. Michael VOs, "Human intelligence can often be collected with a cover identity. There are times, though, when a cover ID has more to do with who you are than how you act." And then we see Madeline in the office, sitting on the other side of a desk from none other than Tyne Daly. Yes, it's that much-ballyhooed Cagney and Lacey reunion! Which, I confess, I'm not all that excited about, having never watched that show. I can never even remember which of them was which. In fact, having just seen a twentyish Sam Axe in Evil Dead a couple of weeks ago, I'd almost rather see a reunion of Bruce Campbell and several hundred gallons of fake blood. The ladies seem to be getting along fine, laughing and everything, but when Madeline asks for some records, she hits a brick wall. Tyne Daly isn't about to share, even though she seems to buy Madeline's cover story about records lost in a hurricane and her dead husband. Although you'd think that if an older lady came in to ask for the same records that a smooth-talking dude asked for the day before, maybe a red flag would go up. Madeline gets up to leave, but slows down a few steps away. With her back to Tyne Daly, she struggles to work up some tears as Michael VOs, "Working an intelligence asset is part acting, part strategy. Some people don't have the talent and some people do." He doesn't say whether it's genetic, but judging by Madeline's timing and tears as she pathetically turns to thank Tyne Daly for her time, it just might be. She comes back and sits down again as Tyne Daly hands her a tissue sympathetically. And Tyne Daly offers to do even better than that. "Let me see what I can dig up...don't get me fired." Madeline puts on a big show of acting grateful, completely missing the foreshadowing that just clocked the rest of us upside the head.
At a sidewalk café, Michael meets Sam, who's thrilled about all the goodies Madeline got him, and gives her props for knowing how to work an asset. "She's done her fair share of manipulating people over the years," Michael snots. He sits down, joining Sam in his stakeout of the county clinic that the records led them to. "There's a few too many shady characters walking out of there with neck braces," Sam says by way of updating Michael on his stakeout. There's also a Corvette parked out front, like the one Calia said the bad guy was driving. Sam had the plates checked, and the car belongs to one Ryan Johnson, on parole for fraud and assault. He just happens to be exiting the clinic right now, shaking hands with a doctor. You may recognize him as the guy who's been tormenting Katee Sackhoff (and let's face it, me) during this season of 24. Sam briefs Michael about this week's cover ID: Michael will be posing as a guy from North Carolina who is a friend of Eric Lee -- also a friend of Ryan, who happened to have died in the same crash as Calia's husband. Small world, no? "Well, looks like I'm goin' for a drive," Michael says, dropping into an exaggerated Southern drawl and stripping down to his wifebeater. Instant redneck!
As Michael's Charger screeches through traffic up behind Ryan's Corvette, Michael VOs, "Precision driving is part of the standard training for an operative." How modest. "It's mainly used when pursuing or being pursued. But on occasion, it's a great way to make an impression." Michael pulls up to Ryan's car in the oncoming traffic lane, and through their open windows, whoops that they need to talk. He drops back just in time to avoid a collision, but Ryan doesn't seem interested in talking. He tries to lose Michael, but Michael won't get lost. Instead, he pulls up to Ryan again and whips his wheel around, causing the Charger to skid in a 180 in front of Ryan's 'Vette so the two cars end up stopped nose-to-nose. Ryan gets out of his car, all upset and wondering what's going on. "Hell, what's it look like, boy?" Michael drawls around what sounds like a big nasty plug of chaw in his mouth. "It's a job application." Don't most people wear ties to those? Or at least shirts with sleeves?
After the ads, they appear to have driven their cars to more civilized parking spots by the curb while Michael makes a show of wiping down the Charger with a rag. He VOs, "Criminals deal with a shortage of skilled labor just like all businesses do. They can't give too much information to new hires, of course, but they also can't pass up real talent." That talent being Michael, of course. Michael explains about how he was a friend of Eric Lee, part of his "insurance crew," and now that Eric's been killed working for Ryan, Michael wants Eric's job. Well, who wouldn't? The subtitles suddenly pick this moment to let us know that Michael is talking to "Ryan -- Insurance Scammer." Have a nice nap there, subtitles? Ryan admits that Michael can drive, and Michael is aggressively boastful about agreeing. Ryan is so impressed with Michael's bravado that he tells Michael to come to a meeting at a bar by the river tomorrow at noon.
But first, Michael and the team meet with Calia at the Carlito. They tell her to keep playing along like she's going to do what the bad guys want, because the team's plan is to take out the whole gang. Sam says it's a network: "Doctors, lawyers, auto repair places, enforcers." Specifically, Michael plans to initiate a scam of his own and get the bad guys caught participating in it, while Fi protects Calia and her son. Rather than objecting to being used as bait in a freelance sting operation, Calia is super impressed with Fi, "and the people you have working for you." "It's so important to have good help," Fi agrees, and sucks her straw at Michael. Isn't anyone going to tell her to shut up? Ever?
Leaving the restaurant, Sam updates Michael on the b-plot. In the face of a lack of clues, Diego's death was officially ruled a suicide, but Sam's a couple of days from triangulating a cell phone Strickler was calling. A couple of days? Sam needs to get a buddy at CTU. They can pull that off in a matter of seconds. More to Sam's point, he warns Michael, "No matter who this guy is, we know two things: he's a killer, and he saw you coming before." Michael says they're out of options, since he apparently feels responsible for the death of his CIA contact. "I don't get to walk away or pretend it didn't happen." So that's Michael's new overarching goal now, and the titular burn notice is permanently back-burnered? Maybe the show's title should be changed to Poorly Motivated DIY Investigation into the Murder of a Guy Michael Didn't Even Like That Much.
It's not as catchy as White Collar, but it's close. On another subject, Sam informs Michael, "I think your mom is a little unclear on the proper handling of intelligence assets. You might want to talk to her."So Michael heads over to Madeline's house, where he finds his mom enjoying herself with cards, cigarettes, gin and tonic, and Tyne Daly. Madeline introduces Michael, who acts polite. "Your handsome son!" Tyne Daly gushes. Yeah, Nate's the ugly one. Through the doubly-thick smoke in the room, Michael chokes out a request to talk to his mom. He takes her out to the backyard and asks what she's doing. Madeline thinks she's just playing canasta with a friend. "That's not how it works," Michael tries to explain. "You don't socialize with an asset." Madeline objects to that characterization of her friend Tina, and she's really not getting it, even when Michael reminds Madeline that Tina broke the law. Well, yeah, because Madeline got her to. "You said that job was over," Madeline protests. "Just don't get too close," Michael says, finally giving up. Yes, and make sure Tina and Sam are never over at the house at the same time.
The day, Michael is changing Fi's bandage at her house while she tells him to quite being such a worrywart about this. She remind
s him, "I was an asset of yours once". "And things got complicated," he reminds her. "People got hurt." No shit. People continue to get hurt by her, up to and including in the teaser of this episode. She points out that that happens anyway. Well, if one of the people involved is Fi, it does.Michael arrives at the bar Ryan named earlier, sticks a fresh plug in his mouth, and tosses the Charger keys to the parking valet. At a table out back, he meets up with Ryan and his dad, who's being played by Jude Ciccolella, a.k.a. Mike Novick, a.k.a. Poor Man's Hume Cronyn. I'm sure it's just a coincidence that father and son are being played by past and current third-tier 24 actors. "So you're the big bad boss," Michael says to the dad, who faux-modestly says he's just a businessman, and then puffs on his cigar with a smugness that is a lot more sincere. "Connor -- Big Bad Businessman," the subtitles say, trying to split the difference. Michael boasts about his driving talent some more, while Connor asks about warrants or accidents on his record. "I got plenty of accidents, but none on my record," Michael chuckles. Connor basically explains that Michael can be in their pool of drivers, like an office temp who crashes cars, but that's not what Michael -- or his cover ID -- is after. He claps a hand on Connor's arm and says, "I'm not looking to make a few hundred bucks driving third wheel in a bump-and-run." Well, who is, really? Michael says he wants a management gig. After telling Michael to take his hand off him, Connor makes him an offer: an auto shop owes them ten thousand, "And my boy here hasn't been able to collect." Over Ryan's objections, Connor says Michael has a job if he can help Ryan get the cash. Michael agrees, even though from what we've seen the last three seasons, collecting money from people is probably what Michael sucks at most.
As he and Ryan head down the street in the Charger, Michael VOs, "Family businesses are tough, and they're even tougher for criminals. Mix normal family issues with cash, violence, and the danger of getting arrested, and things get tense." That must be why Ryan is pouting out the car window. Michael tries to play on that a bit, and in the course of the conversation learns that Ryan's backup plan with Calia if she doesn't sue is "her kid falls down the stairs at school." Michael whoops, "You boys know how to kick some ass, don't you?" Ryan seems about as aware that Michael's mocking him as he is that Michael's doing freelance undercover work. As for the job they're on their way to, Ryan says he's already tried to collect from the bikers at the auto shop twice. "Third time's the charm," Michael says, because part of his cover is having no imagination.
He and Ryan enter the auto shop, which is so packed with bikers it's like a gay porno about to happen. Seriously, there's pecs and cars and welding everywhere. The biggest of the bikers squares off with Ryan and they bicker until Michael interrupts with the old "You're both pretty" joke. Working that cover ID pretty hard. The biker takes a swing, both Ryan and Michael duck, and after a few swift moves from Michael, a couple of bikers are on the floor. Including the welder, whose still-burning torch Michael picks up. The bikers all draw guns as Michael hides behind the acetylene tank with Ryan, who asks what he's doing. "What the hell's it look like I'm doing? I'm getting you your ten grand!" And it's not like Michael gives a shit about any kind of continuing relationship between these guys and Connor's gang. As for the torch, Michael VOs, "Anybody who works around acetylene know to be extra careful," even as he ignites a work table. "It's one of the hottest-burning, most explosive gases in existence." Which is why the tanks make good cover. Michael loudly reminds everyone that if their hosts shoot, "There'll be little pieces of biker rainin' all around here. Ten grand now!" When they're slow to comply, he starts torching the interior of the car they're standing to. The lead biker gives in, even when Michael insists on collecting their guns as well.
A few minutes later, Michael and Ryan walk out under the half-open garage door -- along with some rather large clouds of smoke -- and get into the Charger. Ryan says it looks like Michael has a job. "We should celebrate somewhere else," Michael says as the bikers come out with new guns. Michael peels out, and they get away with nothing more than a shot-out taillight. Which, given Michael's love for spending all his spare time keeping the Charger immaculate, is practically a gift.
Staff meeting! Even back at the loft, Michael's still so in character that he's actually drinking a beer as he says he plans to bring Connor some ideas. Fi says Calia and son are doing fine at her place. "You are doing so well on this job, I think we're almost even," she adds to Michael. Whatever, crazy. After she leaves, Michael asks Sam what's eating him: "I've never seen you drink a beer that slowly." Sam reluctantly reports to Michael that he found that phone he was looking for. Wait, isn't that good news? Well, no, because Sam says it's at the abandoned Marine Stadium. Sam complains, "It's such a setup, Mike, it's not even a setup." But of course Michael is going to go look into it, because that's what Michael does, and having his friends tell him not to only makes him want to do it more.
As Michael (having changed into a suit) and Sam walk through the graffiti jungle that is the marine stadium, Michael VOs, "As a covert operative, there's often a fine line between hunter and hunted. Letting someone hunt you is just another way of finding out more about them." Like how they killed you. Because that's going to be invaluable information you can use. They emerge into the dilapidated seating area that faces out into the open bay, because this was presumably a venue for water shows and boat races and such back in the day, when Miami was the Wisconsin Dells of the South (note: I actually have no idea if that's true). Sam says the phone's signal is coming from right nearby, so as to leave Michael fully exposed when he goes out to find it. The VO continues, "Of course there's also a fine line between following up intelligence and walking into a trap." Whatever, Michael -- that line could be an eight-lane freeway and you'd still be on the wrong side of it right now. Michael tells Sam to stay where he is and cover him as well as he can while Michael goes out into the seats alone. Sam pulls out an inadequate-looking handgun as Michael goes on ahead. Walking down the bleacher steps, he hears a cell phone ringing, and follows the sound to where it's taped to the bottom of one of the seats. "Helleew?" he answers jauntily. A voice on the other end with a British accent says, "Sorry we missed each other at the hotel." Michael agrees, and asks who the person is. But the caller isn't telling. "I'm trying to figure out what kind of man you are," the mystery Brit says. "I need to decide if you're someone I should get to know better..." A seat about ten feet to Michael's left suddenly explodes in gunfire. Sam flinches and futilely scans the water for a shooter, but Michael just turns carefully, like you do when a bee lands on you. "Or someone I should kill," the voice on the phone concludes, as another seat ten feet to Michael's right splinters. "Well, let me know when you make up your mind," Michael says. Even though he's probably figured out that if the shooter wanted him dead that's what he'd be, he's still not entirely relaxed. I can't blame him; I don't like talking on the phone either. The caller assures Michael he'll know, and quickly plugs four more seats to emphasize the point. Sam belatedly yells at Michael to get out of there. Slowly, taking his time, and forcing a smile at whoever's out there, Michael does. If this is what shows at the Marine Stadium used to be like, I can see why it's abandoned now.
His stop is someplace even scarier: Fi's place. She asks how it went. "We had a brief and unsatisfying chat on the p
hone," Michael says. He says he was reminded of a stadium shooting in South America in 1998, which Sam is already researching. Showing admirable lack of concern for how Michael just survived a reenactment of a multiple homicide, Fi changes the subject to herself, namely the project she's working on: she's building a bug for Ryan. She invites Michael to join her over the magnifier, and he's only too happy to accept. The music gets all sexy as Fi starts babbling digressively about how Michael and Sam came back for her back in the summer finale, even if she didn't actually need saving. Michael soon gets as bored with this as the rest of us and tells her she's welcome. "Watch it, you're getting solder on my transmitter," she says, and then they share a smile like she just made a clever double entendre. The hell? That wasn't even a single entendre. That was a non-tendre.Back at the bar with Ryan and Connor, Michael basks in Connor's praise for a while before pitching his plan. It's a scam called "Death Wish." Sounds perfectly safe. As Michael explains it, using condiment packets on the table to demonstrate the movement of various vehicles, the way it works is that a stooge waits at a railroad crossing. Meanwhile, three other cars will work together to box in a city vehicle, then rear-end it into the stooge's car, which will bounce right onto the tracks and in front of a commuter train (indicated by a salt shaker in Michael's demonstration). See? Perfectly safe. He says it's good for a hundred grand from all the potential defendants. "Someone gets killed, you could add a couple of zeroes," Connor grins creepily. Michael spits over his shoulder in agreement. Ryan tries to object to the idea, but Connor tells him to shut up and says they'll try to organize it in the couple of days. Should be fun!
Meanwhile, out front, Fi gets the parking valet to leave his post by asking him to drop something back in her car. While he's gone, she picks up Ryan's keys from the board and pops open the remote fob. "The best place for a bug is on something people keep with them," Michael VOs, ignoring the fact that Fi's planting it on something Ryan doesn't have with him this very minute. In fact, this is a great way to make sure they miss all of Ryan's conversations with his dad/boss. Oblivious to this, Michael's VO continues, "Many car remotes these days have enough space inside to hide a small bug. Not to mention a battery to power the transmitter." Fi tucks both of these items into Ryan's fob, closes it up again, and says into it, "Sam, can you hear me?" From across the street in a parked SUV, Sam tips her a thumbs-up. "It's a quick, efficient, low-risk operation that costs as much as you care to tip the valet," Michael's VO adds. Although I think it's only low-risk if you don't cut as close as Fi just did, finishing up and heading back into the restaurant just as Michael comes out with Ryan. He's kind of pissed about Michael's gall. Michael claims to have no interest in Ryan's daddy issues (which is the opposite of true) and blows it off, spitting on the ground some more. This cover ID of his is kind of gross.
Michael comes into Madeline's house, having just fixed the taillight on the Charger in her garage. See what I mean? He's got two other projects going on and he takes the time to patch up his car. Although I'm sure he'd claim that's just so his mint-condition black 1972 Charger doesn't look too distinctive. "Just wear and tear," he claims when Madeline asks what happened to it. "Whatever," she says in that tone that means she doesn't believe him but isn't going to press it. She's getting better at that tone all the time. She's busy packing a beach bag, because she's off for a little outing -- with Tina. Michael's just about to get into that with her when Tina herself comes in. Michael pastes on a smile for her benefit, and she says Madeline's lucky to have a son who visits so often. Madeline snarks that he was gone for a couple of decades, and they're out of there. A moment later, Sam calls Michael on his cell phone to say that based on what he just heard over Ryan's listening device, he's pulling the Death Wish scam right now. "He's paying some poor old guy to get knocked in front of the 5:35 commuter train." Michael checks his watch and realizes that time is so short, they can't even call the cops! They'll just have to rush over and blow the scheme themselves.
"When you work under a cover, whether you're a cop, a DEA agent, or a spy, you're getting into business with the bad guys," Michael VOs. We see Ryan behind the wheel of a sporty blue Infiniti as he and a couple of small trucks screech into position, bookending a city utility truck. "Your job is to stay in control of that business," Michael's VO continues. Michael is not doing a good job, then. "Sometimes they take your ideas and resources and hurt innocent people. It's every undercover agent's worst nightmare." So maybe Michael should have pitched a nice, safe bake-sale scam instead. Further up the road, a guy sits waiting in a car as a railroad crossing gate goes down in front of him. He hears the train a-coming. It's rolling 'round the bend. "Which is why you do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn't happen," the VO says, just as Michael and Sam come screaming around the corner behind Ryan and his team, in the Charger and that maroon SUV, respectively (even though Sam told Michael on the phone that he was getting fresh wheels). "Boxing in a large vehicle and forcing it into a crash takes a coordinated group effort," Michael continues. "It's a little like flying planes in formation if one of the planes is trying to get away. Very difficult, and very, very dangerous." And yet Ryan was able to organize it in a matter of hours. Maybe we're all selling him short. Sam makes it even more dangerous by bumping the SUV on the city truck's right, bouncing it off some parked cars and up onto the sidewalk. Yeah, they're all about public safety, aren't they? Good thing no one was on the sidewalk or in those parked cars, or who knows how many bystanders would have just gotten killed to save one guy who's willingly participating in a car crash. "The good news is that when a plan requires clockwork timing and precise movement, it doesn't take much to ruin that precision." With that, Michael bumps Ryan's car into a spin-out, then pulls up to him to glare at him out the window before driving away, I guess just to make sure Ryan knew it was Michael. The truck is now free to turn off, avoiding the car waiting at the railroad crossing and averting a real crash. "Do it right and you can avoid sending anyone to the morgue." The train passes by harmlessly. "You may bruise a few egos, though," the VO admits as Michael drives off, leaving Ryan to thump his steering wheel in frustration.
The typical beginning-of-third-act come-to-Jesus team meeting starts with Fi storming into the loft to demand what happened. Michael explains they had to step in to prevent a death, but now their cover is blown. I'd add that unless he's an idiot, Ryan has also figured out that someone's listening in on him. Fi guilts them by saying she told Calia she'd be home by her son's birthday. Which still might be the case, unless she specified which birthday. Sam says it gets worse; it sounds like Ryan and Connor are going to be focusing on their existing pipeline for a while. "Like my client," Fi realizes. Michael asks Sam what they'd need now to get the gang busted, and Sam says they'd need the records on everyone that the doctors taking part in the scam have treated. "Then if we're gonna save Calia, that's what we need," Michael declares. "Good luck with that, brother," Sam chuckles. Indeed. But at least now Michael gets to show Madeline why she shouldn't make friends with her assets.
At Madeline's house, she's already pretty upset, because Michael has already told her what's up. "You're asking me to go back to my friend -- a woman I tried on bathing suits with, for God's sake -- and blackmail her into giving me documents?" Michael reminds her that he said not to get too close. "Why? So
I wouldn't feel too bad when I destroy her life?" Michael points out that he's trying to stop innocent people from being used, which Madeline points out is pretty much what Michael is asking her to do to Tina. She says Tina will lose her job for this. "And if she doesn't, people will lose their lives," Michael insists. "Is this what you do, Michael?" Madeline asks. "You destroy good people?" No, mostly bad people. Michael says he helps people, and sometimes it means he does things he wish he didn't have to, when there's no other way. He reminds her, "You lived in the same house I did. You made hard choices. So you know this as well as I do." Sure, play that card.Cut to Madeline pacing the lobby at the records office as Michael VOs, "When you're blackmailing someone, you have to be cruel to be kind. Show any sympathy for your target and you only make it worse. You have to be the bad guy. Let them feel they have no choice. It's easier that way. Easier for them, anyway." Tina comes out, showing off her new haircut. It looks a lot like Madeline's, which is certainly an improvement on the Julius Caesar 'do she was rocking before. She invites Madeline on back to her desk.
At her desk, Madeline is dropping to stone-cold shit on Tina. Tina protests that she can't get that many files that quickly without giving herself away. "I don't want to hurt you," Madeline says with a very convincing lack of conviction. Tina realizes she's being blackmailed, and breaks down in tears. There's some of those Judging Amy chops. Mirroring their first encounter, Madeline hands her a tissue, and coldly says Tina can come up with a story about where the documents are. "You know I'm going to lose my job," Tina sobs, "and you don't care." Madeline says Tina can get another job if she behaves. I have to say, I'm seeing a flaw in this blackmail scheme, which basically consists of "If you don't want to get caught for this thing you did, do more of that same thing that will certainly get you caught." I understand leverage, but the fulcrum in this case seems misplaced.
But it seems to work, because outside, Madeline shoves her file-stuffed beach bag into Michael's hands and walks away. When he asks if she wants a ride, she yells back that she'll take the bus. Better hope that bus doesn't get pulled into an insurance scam.
Later, Michael and Sam are in their respective vehicles (Sam in a rusty old sedan outside Ryan and Connor's lunch hangout, with Michael elsewhere in the Charger), discussing the stage of their plan over the phone. Michael says a city vehicle has been conveniently parked on Halston, and Sam says the goods Madeline got are really good. "Put this thing in the right place at the right time, whole thing comes crumbling down." Then Sam switches to walkie-talkie to report to Fi that Ryan is just leaving the bar. "This should be fun," Fi says. Over his own walkie-talkie Michael reminds them (that is, Fi) to stay focused. "My mother may never speak to me again after this job, so I want to make sure it was worth it." Well, that sounds like its own reward. "And, go," Sam says.
Ryan's Vette hits the road. Before long, he's sandwiched in by Sam on the right and Fi on the left, presumably both in stolen cars. He doesn't seem to notice anything amiss, even when Michael's Charger rolls into his rearview with a clunky new accessory bolted to the front end. Michael's VO tells us what that is: "A push bar is a hardened steel frame attached to the front of a car. It's usually used by cops. But it's useful for anyone who's planning on being in a high-speed collision." Ryan finally seems to realize that Michael's behind him, just before Sam and then Fi fender-check him. "Oops!" Sam calls out. They bounce him back and forth a few times before forcing him into a turn down a street with that city vehicle waiting at the end of it. A hard bounce to the back bumper from Michael's push bar, and Ryan crashes into it, hard. The front of that Vette is fucked. "Yeah, baby!" Sam cheers. While Michael and Ryan get out of their cars, Fi is already on the phone to the cops, telling them a story about how Ryan crashed on purpose after waving a gun around. "Anyone ever teach you how to park?" Michael says in his redneck voice, complete with the plug in his mouth. Even after his cover was blown. I hope he's not starting to like chew. Michael taunts Ryan over his daddy issues, goading him into taking a wild swing at him. While Michael pops him a few in return, he VOs, "There's a tunnel vision that people develop in a fight. They focus on their enemy, oblivious to everything else. The angrier they get, the more intense their focus. There comes a point where the adrenalin is so intense, you could land a jet behind them and they wouldn't notice." Good thing all Sam wants to do is stash that big stack of files in Ryan's wrecked car, and not land a jet in it. With Sam's job done, Michael decides his is too. He drops Ryan on the street and then throws down his plug, saying, "You know what? I'm gonna go somewhere where I'm appreciated." The whole team lays rubber out of there, just in time for Ryan to be surrounded by gun-toting cops forcing him to his knees. Bad day for Ryan.
Back at Carlito's, Calia thanks Michael and Fi for their help. "That's the reason people call me," Fi says. "And him," she adds, indicating Michael. Well, look who's giving credit where it's due. They denouement that Ryan and Connor turned on each other and made it an easy case for the city, like it's been weeks and they're just now doing the debrief. Calia thanks them again and leaves. Please note that no money is seen changing hands. So with another "job" complete, Fi tells Michael that she talked to Madeline, by way of guilt-tripping Michael about Tina. "I'll see what I can do," Michael says. You think Fi might be able to help out? Since this was her gig in the first place? I don't like her anyway, but I'm hoping that when her arm heals, the hateable tendencies she's displaying this week will abate so I can get back to my more comfortable noise level of disdain for her.
It's dark outside when Michael lets himself in through Madeline's front door. She's sitting at her dining room table in her bathrobe smoking, with her makeup and hair undone. It actually makes her look ten years younger, but like a ten-years-younger dude. "Look who's here," she grumps as he sits down. She says she couldn't sleep at all because of all the Tina flashbacks she'd been having. "Made me wonder how you've even been able to sleep at all the past two decades." He admits it's hard sometimes, which doesn't impress her at all. She yells at him for playing God. Michael begins, "What can I do? People come to me --" She cuts him off, saying, "You don't have to go running around blowing things up. Every time a problem comes your way you are on the job and you dragged me into it." Michael slams the table and yells, "You think I do this for the money?" "Yes!" She spits at him. Well, then she's an idiot, because nobody ever pays him. "I don't know. Why do you do it?" she sobs. Michael fully airs his messiah complex: "People need me. So I have to." Simple enough. Madeline seems to kind of accept that and sits back down, and finally asks what he's doing there at six in the morning. He explains that there was a break-in at the county records office. And amid the mess that was left behind, nobody will ever be able to tell that Tina took anything. Well, maybe he should have led with that. Madeline notices that the sun has come up, and offers him a cup of coffee. She seems to feel a lot better now that Tina isn't in any danger of losing her job. Although I still don't see any more beach trips in their future.
Michael comes home to find Sam sitting on the steps to his loft, holding a manila folder and looking grim. Seeing this and hearing the sad cello music on the soundtrack, Michael asks him what's wrong. Sam says his research has proved fruitful. The original stadium shooting in 1998 in South America -- six victims, to match the six shots earlier in the episode -- was reputedly the work of someone named M
ason Gilroy, as was the hotel fire in 1999. Michael isn't happy to hear it, being familiar with the name. The clincher was that the note left for Michael at the hotel was sprayed with a cologne called Monaco Silver, and the last sighting of Gilroy was in Monaco. So I'd say either someone is setting up Mason Gilroy, or Mason Gilroy thinks he's the fucking Riddler. Unfortunately we're about to find out which. When Sam came by to update Michael, he found a cell phone waiting by the gate. "He knows where you live, Mike," Sam obviouses. "And he didn't kill me yet," Michael bright-sides, hitting the dial button and putting the phone to his ear. Which then explodes. Okay, not really, but it would serve Michael right. At least put it on speaker. After one ring, Michael says, Gilroy!" The man with the British accent congratulates Michael on figuring out the game. "Are we done playing?" Michael grumps, as though it hadn't been Sam doing all the work. Gilroy says he likes how Michael didn't call the cops (as though he ever does without setting up the person he's calling the cops on first), and thinks maybe they should meet. "Just give me a time and a place," Michael says. How about Thursday, USA Network, ten Eastern? That good for y'all?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.
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