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So! Gemma survived her arrhythmia, much to the inconvenience of everyone who now has to explain why they didn't come clean about the whole Abel-kidnapping thing. After Gemma tears a few strips off Jax and Tara's backs, she informs them that Abel's in Belfast. Jax and Clay decide to talk to Maureen to confirm this, and after they do, they decide to go to Belfast.
(It may be messy when they get there: Trinny's stuck her nose in the whole thing courtesy of fielding Jax's first call, she tipped off McGee, who happens to be Maureen's old man, and now McGee's flipping out over the repercussions.)
Gemma made a deal with Stahl to turn herself in, telling Clay she did it because, "I'm too old to run." Stahl has the bad grace to show up in the hospital room and tell Gemma the deal is off the table because Gemma did not, technically, turn herself in, on account of being all unconscious in the hospital. The deal might be back on the table if Gemma can get Tara to talk about the Irish. So Gemma has a rather pointed conversation with Tara -- something along the lines of "And why didn't you throw yourself in front of the gun to save my grandson?" -- which is where we find out that Tara knows nothing about the Irish and she's six weeks pregnant. (How she's not passing out from exhaustion is God's private mystery -- or the writers' room's. Whichever.) Then Stahl comes back to gleefully tell Gemma the deal's off the table. An angry Jax tracks Stahl to her house and offers her a deal: He'll hand-deliver Jimmy O and his Real IRA contacts, along with a sworn statement about the gun-running, in exchange for "my mother, my son and my club." And as a good faith gesture, he hands over Luke (Jimmy O's number two) and some illegal weaponry. Stahl is an amoral moron, but even she can see that this is a deal which will put her back on the ATF fast track.
Also going on this week: The non-Teller SAMCRO guys are tasked with raising money for the Canadian road trip, and they decide to do so by unloading the drugs they took off the hill people during last week's adventures in gun play. Juice screws it up with a moment of bad judgment and gets jumped by the Mayan puppet club, who take his cut. At least Tig and Chucky (!) managed to find out that indeed, the Mayans are manufacturing heroin and shipping it off to Stockton regularly.
Exchange of the week: There really wasn't one. But on the bright side, nobody's off on a fool's errand to Canada anymore.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Gemma Teller lives! And she still has on her flawless eye makeup. Truly, she's setting the benchmark for invalids everywhere. She's in a bed at St. How Does The Tiny Charming Taxpayer Base Swing This Hospital?, and she slowly comes to and looks over at Clay. In what is my favorite shot of the episode, he's sitting bedside, wearing his cut and a pair of reading glasses and intently plowing through the local paper's A-section.
"Hey, baby," she says, and Clay looks over with a big, gentle smile before wishing her good morning. Then he comes over and kisses her hand, careful not to disturb the IV port taped to it. Awwww! These two kill me. (By the way, Gemma's other hand is cuffed to the hospital bed.) Gemma asks if she had a heart attack. Nope, just bad arrhythmia which, in Clay's words, "knocked you on your ass." He asks if she's stopped taking her meds. (And oh my God, if my text editor does not stop auto-correcting "meds" to "meeds," I am going to hunt down whomever was responsible for porting over the typo-to-dictionary macro and do things that will require their year's meeds to pay for their meds.) Gemma says, "They make my face swell. Can't get into my boots." Clay replies, "Fashion before health -- that's my girl." He knows he can't bust her non-swollen chops too badly, as he's the one who refuses cortisone shots from all but her. Anyway, Gemma's health will be fine in a few days. Her temper has already recovered: "Where's Jax? I want some answers!"
Jax is busy pouring enough sugar in his coffee to fuel the inevitable moment where he has to escape Gemma by vibrating through a wall. The rest of the SAMCRO boys are all in the waiting room with him. Given how much time this MC spends at this hospital, they should just throw a chunk of money at the administration and get their own dedicated waiting room. Chuckie's coffee service and Crow-Eaters optional, of course. Bobby Elvis mutters that they need to talk, and SAMCRO takes over the chapel. The deal is this: Bobby Elvis needs to confirm the tracker with Serge. Jax is okay with this: "Pull the trigger, send the ten grand. I'm making sure my mom's okay, then I'm heading north." Opie and Chibs say they're coming too. Bobby Elvis is touched by this fraternal display, but all the leather-clad biker hugs in the world aren't going to underwrite this little road trip. They need cash. Tig immediately suggests selling the drugs they got off the hill people last week, and Juice estimates that "steroids and Adderall we can dump on the street, the rest of it's that HIV shit. It's got to be peddled to the clinics." He's tasked with going to someone named Lumpy to unload the steroids, then calling "the Chicken Man" to dispatch the Adderall.
Tara interrupts the meeting to let everyone know Gemma's awake and she'd like to see Jax. "Tell her we love her," Opie says as Jax rolls out the door. Jax heads into Gemma's room and beams, "Hey, Mom," but one look at her face and he realizes he's in a world of trouble. Tara sidles out the door and Gemma snaps, "This is on you too, doc!" so Tara slinks back inside. Once she closes the door, Gemma gives them all a gorgon-like stare and demands, "What happened? The truth. All of it." Jax instantly cracks: "When Cameron killed Sack, he took Abel. The Feds weren't doing shit, so we hired a bounty hunter, got this a few days ago. [shows her the picture of Cammy holding Abel at the depot in Vancouver] He's somewhere up in Vancouver. We were just trying to protect you, Mom."
Gemma's not buying it. Everyone just sits silently, waiting for her outburst, but she decides to shelve the venomous barbs in favor of advancing the plot: "[Abel's] not in Vancouver. The call I got last night that triggered all this? Was from Maureen Ashby." Only Clay gets why this is significant; he has to explain to the young'uns that she's McGee's old lady, and therefore connected to SAMBEL. Gemma says Abel's in Belfast, and Jax insists, "Can't be. Jimmy and O'Neill saw Cameron get scooped up as soon as he hit Belfast. He didn't have Abel with him." Oh, Jax, so sweetly naive about Jimmy O's capacity for lying. Gemma says, "Somebody's full of shit!" and her heart monitors go nuts. Clay tells her to take it easy, and Gemma shouts, "I'll take it easy as soon as I know where my grandson is!" You have to admire how she's using a bum ticker to her strategic advantage. I'm also grateful she refers to Abel as her "grandson" and not her "grandbaby," because the latter word sets my teeth on edge. It's just so naff.
Jax and Clay confab in the hall. Jax's first instinct is to call McGee, but Clay points out, "If O'Neill lied to you, it means the Belfast charter could be in bed with Jimmy." Jax reacts to this news like a kindergartner learning there's no Santa Claus: "McGee's first nine!" The idea of him lying is unfathomable. Clay, however, fathoms it. He suggests raising Maureen on the phone again. And then, conveniently enough, he's summoned back to Gemma's bedside.
Cut to Gemma saying, "If Jax goes to Belfast, stones get unturned. Bound to happen, I guess." Look, it's not like Trinny's a female ringer for Jax, and it's not like Jax is a lightning-quick intellect; it'll take him at least six episodes to realize that his old man nearly abandoned Gemma for her Celtic doppelganger. Anyway, Clay is less concerned with Jax's delicate sensibilities and more concerned with what in the hamlet Gemma's been thinking. She reluctantly admits, "I called Stahl. Made a deal. [Clay winces in pain.] Told her I'd sign off on her bullshit story, she takes death off the table, I get weekly visitations." Clay is squeezing back tears. Gemma tells him she was supposed to turn herself in that morning. Then, choking up a bit as well, she says, "I'm sorry, baby. I'm too old to run." The two of them bracket opposite ends of the hospital bed, both trying not to cry.
Meanwhile, Jax and a few of the SAMCRO guys have sauntered into the bar that serves as the field office for the Real IRA, Northern California Division. Jax tells Jimmy O's second in command, Luke, that he's got word that Cameron was running around Belfast with a baby. Luke blithely suggests that Cameron routinely went on overseas walkabouts with infants, just none of them Jax's particular infant. Jax and Chibs are not buying this bucket of blarney, and Jax tells Luke to pass on a message to Jimmy O: "If I find out he's been lying about my son, I'm going to track him down, I'm going to beat the truth out of him, then I'm going to let Chibs cut him from ear to ear." Luke patronizingly chortles, "There's no need to get theatrical, boys. We know that's not going to happen." Someone needs to get Luke the season one DVD of this series, so he can see that SAMCRO is not a collection of amusing AARP-eligible bikers, but a group of people who have no problem using blowtorches on former friends. Then maybe Luke will take the threat more seriously. On the way out the door, we see a pile of AKs and Opie grunts something about the safehouse being gone, so they're stashing the guns here.
Back at the hospital, Gemma is discovering a universal human truth: Daytime TV is a brain-killing wasteland. Fortunately, Unser comes to rescue her from her tedium. He asks how she's feeling, and Gemma rattles her cuff as she admits, "A little stupid." Unser grunts, "Join the club," and Gemma reaches with her free hand to squeeze his as she sincerely and softly says, "Thank you. For everything." Then they move on to more depressing topics. Gemma expresses her condolences for Hale, and Unser says regretfully, "Kid shouldn't have gone out that way. That's why I'm here, Gemma. Town's worried."
Clay comes in and greets Unser cheerfully, and Unser continues dolefully, "Folks in Charming are struggling with SAMCRO. I got a lot of people looking over my shoulder. I ain't going to be able to run much interference ... It means I gotta be a cop for a while. I'm sorry." He shuffles out. Gemma and Clay are all, "Well ... this would be worse news if we weren't already dealing with a kidnapped baby, revoked bail and Gemma's insane plea attempt." I mean, I get that this is supposed to be one more complication piled on top of the rest, but honestly, "Oooh, our friendly cop is going to be a cop!" hardly ranks as a complication right now. It's not like last season where, by Act II, we had Gemma losing her marbles, SAMCRO getting into territorial disputes over porn production, Tig and Clay trying to keep their involvement with Donna's murder from Opie, Luann embezzling from the club, Jax and Clay at each other's throats and -- oh, how could I forget, A PASSEL OF WELL-FUNDED, WELL-ORGANIZED WHITE SUPREMACISTS MOVING TO TOWN AND TARGETING THE CLUB. Compared to all that, this season's litany of Job-like travails seems fairly tame.
So Tig, Juice and Bobby Elvis pull up to Lumpy's boxing gym and notice that the rest of the businesses in the strip mall have all shut down. This is news to them; they've been too busy busting Oregonian hill people and rioting with Hong Kong businessmen to keep up with the Charming Chamber of Commerce blog. While Tig and Bobby Elvis make small talk with Lumpy, Juice heads to a back office to unload his steroids. We find out that an unnamed corporation has been making buyoff offers to all the tenants on the block. Tig looks alarmed at this prospect, perhaps fearing that a Wal-Mart will breach the pristine boundaries of small-town Charming. Lumpy exposits, "All I know is every other week, some guy in a suit comes by. Each week, he's got a little more money and a little less patience." (Okay, everyone start placing your bets on Hale the Lesser somehow being involved with this and it all coming out during this season and . Nobody will want to look away as SAMCRO become advocates of New Urbanism!) Lumpy is resolute in that he won't sell.
Back at the hospital, Clay is holding up a hand mirror so Gemma can refresh her war paint. He's enduring this the same way a cat endures being put in a sweater for a holiday card photo. When Jax comes in, Gemma is a lot less pissy. Jax updates them on the situation: Luke's sticking to his story, and they've got a number for Ashby Provisions in East Belfast. Gemma's about to call when a cloud of sulphur roils through the door and Stahl materializes.
Stahl says she needs to speak to Gemma alone, and Gemma professes seeming nonchalance at this prospect. Clay warns her that "she's been demoted and she's desperate" and Stahl snaps, "Hey, I'm in the room, kids." And that is why he said it, Stahl. How this woman managed to stay in the ATF, much less deal with hardened criminals, is God's private mystery: She gets far too ruffled far too easily and far too visibly, and it's not an act designed to make other people drop their guard.
Anyway, Stahl's here for one purpose only: to try and bully Gemma. You might as well attempt to bully the tide, so the only thing Stahl can resort to is saying that since Gemma didn't turn herself in per the terms of the deal -- what on account of being laid up in a hospital with the heart palpitations and all -- she broke the deal and it's off the table. It's yet another example of Stahl abusing the very systems she's allegedly representing for her own personal gratification, and that is sort of why I have no patience for this character. If we're supposed to be all, "Why, how paradoxical that the drug-dealing and gun-running bikers conduct themselves with greater ethical scrupulousness than the government agent!" then ... message received. In season one, when we saw Kohn. And in season two. And here. I believe at this point, we can all get giant crow tattoos with the legend "WE GET IT." It really is too bad we no longer have Hale on the show; it was refreshing to have a character who saw protecting and enforcing societal institutions as a greater moral good, not the coward's way to cheap power for their own personal gratification.
Zip! We're in Belfast. Trinny's counting out the register, and she picks up the phone. Jax says, "Yeah, I was looking for Maureen?" "Not here," Trinny replies curtly. The conversation goes downhill from there, which ... well, what can you expect? Both Jax and Trinny have been raised by women well-versed in the fine art of getting belligerent the minute someone asks a question. Jax finally snaps, "Tell her someone from Charming needs to speak to her again, mother to mother. She'll know what that means. Now take down that number." Trinny's curiosity is sufficiently piqued, so she does.
And now, on to unloading the Adderall. The Chicken Man drives a decrepit blue van, and he requests that the solo Juice climb into the van to complete the transaction. Juice stupidly does -- and is promptly beaten into the middle of the scene by the Mayans' puppet club. The Chicken Man explains that he's sorry, but he's run up a tab with "these Mexican fellows."
Jax and Clay are touching base at the hospital and recapping the last few scenes for one another when -- oh, look, Juice has landed from his beating. It's even worse than it looks: those jerkstores took his cut. Chibs is furious with Tig and Bobby Elvis: "You let that goddamn puppet club strip his patch?" Juice waves his hands in the universal gesture for "Can we please not talk about this now?" He also tries to make sure all the blame rests on him, but neither Piney nor Bobby Elvis are having it. Clay rumbles that they might be able to find the cut, as he's heard from T.O. and the Grim Bastards have intel on where the Mayans have set up their heroin shop. Perhaps the cut will be there. The non-bleeding SAMCRO guys all decide to check it out. Juice apologizes again to Clay -- who merely shakes his head like Ward chastising the Beav for knocking a baseball through the neighbors' picture window, and Piney gets all fatherly by sighing, "Come on, hero. Let's get you patched up, huh?" Clay smacks Juice on the bottom and asks, "That hurt?" as Juice winces his way down the hall. (Hee!)
On the way out of the hospital, the boys collect Chuckie per Bobby Elvis's suggestion that they bring an unfamiliar face along to scope out the operation. I do love how Bobby Elvis is consistently presented as someone who's very good at the behind-the-scenes strategy and direction, a sort of Tom Hagen for the Harley set. Chuckie is delighted to be included with the big kids.
Tara swings by Gemma's room per Gemma's off-screen request, and Gemma does not beat around the bush: "Stahl came by, threatened to take away my deal. Guess I didn't officially turn myself in ... she's desperate, pressing me for intel on the Irish. Your name came up." Tara wanly says that Stahl was in the room during the FBI interview but she didn't tell them anything. "Why don't you tell me?" Gemma invites. Tara leadenly recites the series of events leading to Abel's kidnapping, and Gemma gets her high-and-mighty look before inquiring, "Nothing you could have done about that?" "As an unarmed woman who might be more valuable as a living witness than a dead martyr to a kidnapping? Hell, no," Tara does not say. Gemma snaps, "If it was your flesh-and-blood, you would have thrown yourself in front of a bullet." That's particularly rich, given that a headwound-addled Tara clonked Amelia on the head when she had attack Gemma. The older woman's not being fair, and Tara calls her on it.
Then she bursts into tears. Which, somehow, is the clue Gemma needs to intuit that Tara's knocked up. AH, HELL NO. I mean, my, what an interesting and not at all soapy plot development! But it does explain her recent hulking out in the nursery and in Nate's basement. For some of us, the first trimester is a time for nausea, relentless French fry cravings, and spells of coma-like lassitude alternating with fits of rage so acute, you wish you had the ability to set people on fire with the power of your mind. ANYWAY. Gemma fails to congratulate Tara on this development and comments instead, "Quite the secret queen, lately." "Yeah, well, I learned from the best," Tara says. Oh, these two. What they need is another murder to bring them together. Gemma then says, "I'm assuming it's Jax's." Apparently so; the man's sperm have a knack for reaching egg at the least convenient moment for everyone concerned. Tara seethes, which of course puts her in the perfect headspace to talk with Margaret Murray.
In a nutshell: there's an emergency surgery that needs to be performed on a baby that's but 20 minutes out of the womb and Tara's the one to provide an assist. She tries to stammer a refusal, but Murray's like, "Feel free to talk to the parents and explain that you'd rather go with Plan B, which is that their child dies." Murray heads off and Tara sort of wonders what just happened. "I seem to dimly recall something about a hippopotamus oath and how it applies to my job? Does that sound right?" Maybe she just needs some French fries before she scrubs in.
Zip! We're in Belfast, and McGee's coming into the store. While he's by to see Maureen, it's Trinny he's got, and she asks him, "Who would my ma be calling in Charming?" He shrugs, "It's the Redwood Originals. Why do you ask?" "Someone rang up the shop. Very mysterious lad, insists that it was important for Ma to call back?" Trinny replies. McGee too-casually asks if this mysterious lad left a number. Trinny hands it over, and McGee says he'll run it past Maureen when she's back. He pecks Trinny on the forehead and bids her, "Be good. Tell your ma I come. And lock up, huh?"
Cut to T.O. expositing away, bless his grim and bastard-y heart. The Mayans are coming every day to a set-up in an office park, Madina Janitorial Supplies. T.O. concedes that it could be an actual day-job thing, but one never knows. Then we are at Madina and a cut-less Tig is playing moron delivery guy, claiming he's here to pick up supplies for "Hale Sewage Removal" but he doesn't have the paperwork he needs. The flunky with the clipboard is all, "Well, it's not here, but I can go check the system." From inside the van, the SAMCRO guys all observe the clipboard flunky punching in numbers for "a serious security door." "Those must be some expensive cleaning supplies," Chuckie says in all sincerity. Cut to Chibs giving Chuckie a "Seriously? You can't be ... seriously?" look. It's very eloquent.
Tig manages to stick a foot into the door right before it closes, and Chuckie sprints over there so he can enter the warehouse with Tig. Once they get inside, Tig steers Chuckie over to an aisle on the right and gives the directive "Act Mexican." Chuckie asks, "What if I see something?" "Get out to the van alive. Now, go!" Tig orders, and skips off to the left. Both men cling to their clipboards for camouflage as they lurk. Tig happens to go by an office and notices a delivery schedule tacked to a bulletin board; he whips out his phone and begins photographing it.
Outside, Salazar and a few of his men roll up. Jax is all ready to go brawling, but Bobby Elvis points out that if the Mayans realize SAMCRO's on to them, they'll just shut the place down, which does SAMCRO no strategic good. So Chibs settles for warning Tig.
Inside, Chuckie has wandered into an area that is guarded by the Mayans. Who knew "standing around in your cuts" counted as a day job? As he skitters away, he runs right into a few of the Calaveras boys, who ask, "Who the hell are you?" "¡Hola!" Chuckie says brightly. He is then surrounded by three Calaveras boys. Tig sees this, utters a few appropriate epithets, then races off to try and get Chuckie. Tig's solution: hijack a forklift, use it to knock over a pallet of liquid cleanser, then use that chlorinated diversion to get Chuckie out of the warehouse. Tig, Tig, he's our man! When he's not mistakenly killing or trying to bang his MC brothers' spouses, that is.
Zip! We're in Belfast. McGee lets himself into Mo's place, and she doesn't even look up from her accounts as she tells him the kettle's warm. McGee drops the piece of paper on her ledger and comments neutrally that SAMCRO's waiting for a call back. Then it's not so neutral: "You better tell me, darlin', 'cause now you're messing in my business." Maureen tells him, "It's got nothing to do with you." "My club," McGee says. "My problem!" she snaps back. McGee sits down and says, "We know Cammy took Jax Teller's boy, and there was no trace of [Abel] when they found [Cammy] in the street. And I know he came to see you, Mo, because he had no-one else to turn to. Do you know where that baby is? Is that why you're calling Charming? Look -- just tell me, 'cause I can help you." Maureen leans over, her face a hard mask of pain, and says, "I love you, Mac. And you know I would do anything for the club. You know that. But this matter involves the other half of my life. I piss you off, you smack me around. I piss off the Army, I end up with my head squeezed off by a razor wire." Cut to McGee's face all, You do have a point there. So for both of their sakes, Mo won't be saying anything. "You said plenty," McGee tells her. He gets up, looms over her, then kisses her before taking off. They're not exactly last of the red-hot lovers like Clay and Gemma are, but that could be a matter of temperament. Still, their relationship intrigues me.
SAMCRO returns to the hospital to report on the results of their recon mission, which you already know because you've read the paragraphs of this recap. We do learn that there's a heroin delivery to Stockton prison tomorrow afternoon. And then the phone rings -- it's Belfast. Jax and Clay sprint to Gemma's room.
And now, the ladies John Teller loved and left have a good gab. Maureen's calling from her house line -- and Trinny's eavesdropping in the room. The conversation goes like so:
MAUREEN: Is that JT's boy that called the shop?
GEMMA: My boy. Yes. I understand you've made contact with someone else I know?
MAUREEN: Aye, I have.
GEMMA: How can I be sure of that?
MAUREEN: He's a fighter. Scar on his belly.
GEMMA: [Swallows hard.] What was he wearing?
MAUREEN: Cheap onesie. Blue hat, white pompom. [She plays with the hat, a bittersweet smile on her face.]
Gemma, too overcome to speak, hands the phone to Jax, who lunges for it with desperate longing, asking, "Where is he?" Maureen tells him, "Abel's with a friend. I'm not sure how much longer they can keep him safe. That's all I can say right now. The boy needs his da. [click]." Jax finally, FINALLY cancels the Canadian road trip. They're off to Belfast!
Zip! We're in Belfast and Trinny's fishing for more info based on her eavesdropping. Maureen refuses to tell her anything, and Trinny says, "Dammit, Ma, I'm not a child! Tell me the truth!" Maureen echoes Gemma's earlier words when she says, "Members from the original charter are coming out here soon. You'll have more truth than you can handle." She wanders off, leaving Trinny more confused than ever. Oh, Trinny. Here's hoping you don't bollix the works for everyone in your quest to know what's what.
Back at the hospital, Gemma's dozing in bed, the surveillance photo of Abel clutched in one hand. Stahl slithers in and takes the photo. This wakes Gemma, who instantly rolls her eyes at the agent. Stahl tries the Mrs.-Nice-Guy approach, because she evidently thinks Gemma has the memory span of a mayfly, and compliments SAMCRO's tracking abilities. Then she asks, "Where is your grandson?" Gemma smoothly lies that she doesn't know. Enter Clay and Jax, which only delights Stahl more: this way, she can torment Gemma both by gleefully saying there's no longer a deal on the table and by making sure Gemma sees her husband and son's reaction to the news. Stahl then gloats, "I think [the U.S. attorney] is going to press you hard for intel on the club. Which means you either give up your boys, or your boys give up you. Have a nice life." The other three people in the room do their damnedest to make sure Stahl can't register any change in their expressions. (I, on the other hand, am practically spitting with pure loathing for this cartoon villainess.) Once Stahl goes, Gemma breaks into tears. Clay immediately sinks onto the bed and wraps himself around her as if to shield her from whatever comes . I realize there's a lot of "Oh, Katey Sagal, she's got such acting chops!" going around -- and it's well deserved -- but I really admire the way Ron Perlman's consistently depicted Clay as someone who is deeply enamored of his wife and does not care who knows it. Doesn't his behavior make you all curious as to how Clay acted around Gemma before they were married? I know it does for me.
Meanwhile, Jax recognizes that he's helpless to comfort Gemma so he settles for plan B: discreetly following Stahl.
Outside, a soignée blonde is leaning against a sedan. When she sees Stahl, there's some small talk about how it went, and the blonde observes, "You're still in one piece." "I'm not that fragile, baby," Stahl responds, which is how we find out that Stahl copes with the limited opportunities for dating on the job (or, you know, dating when being Stahl) by taking on all genders. As Stahl drives off, Jax has the presence of mind to write down the car's license plate. If he keeps this up, I may have to revise my opinion of him as not the best strategy cat in the crew.
Inside, Murray's popping into the post-surgical scrub room to talk to Tara. Long story short: It doesn't matter that Tara shamelessly exploits her hospital privileges so an MC can run wild through the halls, it doesn't matter that she's prone to beating the shit out of her critics, it doesn't matter that she wants leave. Tara's such a super-duper surgeon, the hospital needs her erratic, truculent ass in the operating theatre. Her request for leave will be denied. Well, Jax will be thrilled, when he gets around to thinking about it. His old lady's back on the job! Now all he has to do is listen to Opie mope about his old lady's stubborn insistence on maintaining her career.
It's now dark outside and we're watching Luke and his boys wrap up their day at the field office (bar). We learn that Jax has disabled Luke's vehicle, and he pulls Luke out of his SUV and points a gun to his face "You and Jimmy lied to me," he says. Luke tries the "You're making a mistake!" argument but it doesn't fall on receptive ears. Jax wants to know who has his son and why Jimmy is doing this. Alas, the problem with being a Number Two flunky is nobody tells you anything.
In a darkened hospital room, Clay's sitting to Gemma holding her hand as she admits, "I'm sorry, baby. I should have listened to you, heading up north." Clay tells her to drop it and rest; they'll find a way to make everything all right. Once Gemma's asleep, he lets the despair take over his face.
Jax bounces up to the door of a nondescript condo. Stahl answers, gun at the ready, and totally freaked out that SAMCRO now knows where she lives. Jax holds up his hands and slowly twirls to indicate that he's unarmed. "Put the gun away," he says. It's not so much a request. "How did you get my address?" Stahl demands. Typical bully, taken aback when someone pushes back on her turf. Jax takes a page from Clay's book and reminds Stahl that she sort of sucks on the job: "ATF took away your shiny black sedan, making you drive your own car." "Juice is hacking DMV now?" Stahl asks. Let's not leap to conclusions here. Juice hasn't demonstrated any sort of hacking ability beyond checking email, and even then, he might reply to Nigerian princes who need help with their banking.
Stahl steps outside and closes the door, asking Jax what he wants. "A deal," he says. Stahl's girlfriend chooses that moment to open the door and freak out over the general situation, and we learn that Stahl's just as much an ace negotiator in her personal life as she is in her professional one. Jax pointedly turns his back for privacy, lights up a cigarette. Once Stahl gets her ladyfriend back inside (and going from the look on that woman's face, Stahl's in for a long, long night of "We have to talk" nonsense once this wraps up), Jax offers Stahl a smoke. She declines. "Bringing your work home with you, huh?" he says. (HA!) "I never seem to learn," Stahl says wearily. Then she gives him five minutes to make his pitch.
Once Jax speaks, I vow to immediately drop the "Oh, Jax! All that navel-gazing has atrophied your critical thinking skills!" shtick because the man has a plan. He says, "Your career's taken a huge hit. Booted off the Irish, stripped of your team. We both know you're looking at a transfer at some left-for-dead field office. Not only can I give you your career back, I can make you an ATF legend. The agent who single-handedly broke the Real IRA NorCal terrorist threat. I'll hand-deliver Jimmy O'Phelan, give you the names of his Real IRA contacts and my sworn statement -- everything you need to know about the gun-running."
In return, all Jax wants is this: "My son, my mother, and my club." Here's how Stahl can deliver on that: "No witness from Zoebelle's church party is going to testify. That just leaves the federal automatic weapons charges ... we just want them reduced. Short time. MC's got a bail hearing tomorrow. You need to slow that down. We need a couple of weeks." Stahl deduces, "So you can get to Belfast for Jimmy. And I'm guessing that's where Abel is." Jax is stone-faced. Stahl's already figuring out how she can make this work: "Even if I can push the bail hearing, there's no way you guys can leave the country." Jax replies, "That's my problem. We just can't have the fugitive heat." Stahl's okay with this.
She asks, "And your mother?" "Your lie set this whole nightmare in motion," Jax says. He continues, "I don't give a shit what you have to do. Recant your statement. Tell some new lies, find a scapegoat. Hey -- you just set that truth straight." Stahl tries to weasel out with, "Immunity's a complicated pro--" "Immunity is bullshit. Too many strings. I want a statement, signed by you, clearing her of both kills."
Stahl seems impressed by Jax's bald statements of what he wants. But, she wants to know, what incentive does she have to trust this man? Jax points out a few things: First, "If my club finds out, I am dead. My risk is just as great [as yours]." And second, he's got Luke bound and gagged in the trunk of his car. Between Jimmy O's number two and the huge cache of illegal weapons Opie so thoughtfully pointed out to us way back when in the episode, Stahl will be sitting pretty. Jax warns, "This asshole has to disappear. He can't reach out. No lawyers, or this all goes away for both of
us." Stahl replies, "Terrorists don't get phone calls." No, they don't.
Jax makes his closing pitch: "This is a simple trade: I deliver Jimmy and the sworn statement, you sign off on the gun charges and my mom. I'm the one who's gotta deliver. You got nothing to lose. It's you and me -- we're all we got, June." Stahl nods. They've got a deal. Let's see how long before Stahl tries to yank this one off the table -- and what happens when she tries.
sobell, AKA Lisa Schmeiser, is a San Franciso Bay-area business and technology reporter and blogger. She also tweets at lschmeiser, and is now wondering what she'll make fun of now that Jax has shown himself to be such a canny strategist..
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