Question and Answer
Updated 2009-06-12 10:09:35
The episode opens with Michael traveling along the shoreline at a dead run, which raises the question: who is he chasing/fleeing? Nobody, actually; he's wearing shorts and a t-shirt instead of his regular clothes, which indicates he's just taking some exercise. His voice-over doesn't even seem out of breath as it explains, "Whether you're hunting down extremists in the mountains of Kashmir or tracking arms dealers through the streets of Moscow, the life of a spy takes a toll." Good thing he isn't one of those any more, then, right? As he returns to his loft, he continues, "So during down times you work out, eat right, and try to recharge your batteries. Because you never know what's waiting for you around the next corner." Makes sense, except that if he's going to practice his running, he should probably do it in his suit and dress shoes, like he's used to doing anyway. He lets himself in the front door just as a knife thwacks into a wall a couple of feet from his head and vibrates there. Michael looks surprised at this, like he just recently met Fi or something. Fi -- for naturally it is she who's been flinging deadly blades around his home -- introduces Michael to "Bud," a bald, tattooed, leather-vested character who is Fi's latest bail jumper. "You got a real chair in this dump?" Bud grumps at Michael from where he's handcuffed to a support pillar. Sore spot. Fi breezes that Bud's in a bad mood. "He didn't like the music in my trunk." And the reason he's there is so that Fi can try to convince Michael to help her out with some of the extra bounty-hunting work her bail bondsman has been sending her lately. Fi tries to make a flirty case for partnering up, but all Michael wants is for Bud to leave. And also Fi, of course, but I think that's just a bonus.
But as the three of them start down the steps from the loft entrance, they hit a hitch already. Down in the courtyard is a woman in a pants suit who introduces herself as Detective Paxson, and her nondescript male partner in the open gate as Detective Lopez. Paxson is played by Moon Bloodgood, whom you may know from Journeyman and Terminator: Salvation but whom I know primarily as a person whose name is a highly efficient demonstration of all the different vowel sounds a double-O can make. She says wants to ask Michael some questions, and when he says he's "in the middle of something," she turns her attention to Fi and busts her for not having a bail enforcer's license, taking Bud into custody. Bye, Fi's bounty. Michael says he's already been to the station, just in the last episode, but she's looking into a specific "traffic incident." You know the one. She says someone matching Michael's description was seen driving away, and although Michael points out that he's pretty generic-looking Paxson won't be put off. "Are you going to answer my questions, or am I going to pick my way through everything you own?" Are those the only two options? Michael rattles off a list of his possessions: "That would be a workbench, six power tools, four yogurts -- three yogurts, I actually had one." She says he can tell her about it at the station, and tells him to get in the car. "I'm going to enjoy this," she says. Which I'm not really buying, because so far she just looks bored rather than even remotely into it. I assume that's a by-product of having had to step in for Jennifer Esposito at the last minute. Michael gets in the back of the detectives' car, right next to Bud. "Welcome to your worst nightmare, Mr. Westen," Paxson says. "Detective Paxson -- Michael's Worst Nightmare," say the subtitles. Those subtitles are pretty gullible, if you ask me.
Next day, Michael's walking out of the Miami Metro Police department for the second episode in a row. Fi tells him he looks "wretched," which, he was brought in right after a run, and it doesn't look like they gave him his shoelaces back, so the tongues of his high-tops are flapping around like clown shoes. Michael says Paxson is going to be trouble, and Fi says she's already cost her a bounty. Like it's anyone's fault but Fi's she was loitering at Michael's place with an illegally obtained bail jumper. Or that she extorted a key to the loft from him back in the first season. But fortunately for both of them, Michael has a chance to make it up to Fi right now by helping her out with a new gig. Michael is the luckiest boy in the world.
Michael has changed into a suit by the time he and Fi get to a restaurant to meet this potential new client, who happens to be the sister of one of Fi's past bail jumpers. "Had to hit him with a brick to get him in the car," Fi reminisces. "Sweet guy." Michael gives one of those pained smiles that never reaches his eyes as he asks the woman, Patricia, how they can help. She shows them a photo of her son Brandon, a blond, preteen kid and explains that he's been staying with his dad (from whom Patricia is separated, apparently). She says Howard hasn't let her have any contact with the kid for three days. Michael suggests a lawyer, because the first to-do item on all of Michael's jobs is to try to get out of it, but she wants something quicker and simpler: "Howard just needs someone to knock some sense into him," she says. Which is like catnip to Fi, so she takes the job on behalf of her and Michael both before Michael can finish protesting. Nodding and smiling, Michael sees Sam's giant red Buick pull up outside and excuses himself to go talk to him. Which is not particularly wise, because who knows what else Fi will agree to while he's gone?
Outside, Sam gives Michael some new info about his "new girl," namely that she rebuilt the Buick's engine by herself. "I'm telling you, just put a nice, sturdy tool in that woman's hand, and--" Ew. Fortunately, Michael cuts him off and asks what he found out about Detective Paxson. "Turns out you've got a stalker with a badge," Sam says. Apparently she's been combing self-storage places all over south Florida, and came up with some surveillance footage of Michael visiting one. Which would be the one where Michael has some, ah, demolition equipment. Sam advises Michael to clean it out before Paxson gets to it. Fi calls out to Michael to ask if he's coming, so it looks like dealing with his incriminating evidence will have to wait. So will Sam, who's trying to wheedle lunch out of the deal. "Next time," Michael sighs, going back to Fi so quickly you can practically hear the reel on his retractable leash ratcheting as it takes up the slack. Sam consoles himself by polishing his Buick. "I got you, baby," he says. Neither of those last two sentences was a euphemism.
Later, the Charger pulls up outside a shabby little house, with Michael and Fi in the front and Patricia in the back. She bitches about the condition of her ex-husband's yard. Hard to believe they couldn't make it work. Just then Michael's phone rings with a call from his Mom, because he doesn't have enough to deal with right now. Fi tells him to go ahead and take it while she and Pamela head up to the house. "Just keep your eyes on the street. Should be pretty straightforward," Fi tells him. Honestly, are her only two modes of speech really "obnoxious" and "jinx"?
From deep within her usual cloud of cigarette smoke, inside her completely repaired and redecorated house, Madeline sings, "It's somebody's birthday today!" She's inviting Michael over to dinner with Sam and Fiona to celebrate. What, no Nate? That doesn't sound like Madeline. Michael's surprised they're celebrating birthdays at all now, and asks resignedly, "Where are we getting takeout from?" "Who said anything about takeout?" Madeline chuckles guiltily, tucking away the stack of menus she was holding until now. Watching Fi yelling at Howard through his front door, Michael says he'll try. Not good enough for Madeline, who wants him to promise. "Fine, I promise I'll try," Michael says, and hangs up. Now he can turn his full attention to the house, where he can see that a skinny little goateed dork in slacks and a polo shirt is sneaking out the back. Seeing Michael waiting in his car outside, the guy ducks through the neighbor's yard, but Michael's already got the Charger in gear and is soon driving alongside him. "You can stop now," he advises Howard through his open window. When Howard doesn't -- even after Michael repeats himself -- Michael pulls right up next to him and slaps him on the ass with the car door, sending him face-planting into the sparsely grassed median. Serves the idiot right for trying to outrun a car by sticking to the curb. Michael gets out to try to talk sense into him, but there's a bigger problem: Howard says his son was kidnapped. "Of course he was," Michael says. Apparently even Michael can tell how early in the episode it is.
Back in the house, Howard gives Michael, Fi, and Pamela the details: after Brandon didn't come home from school on Thursday, someone called Howard demanding information about a shipment for the diamond wholesaler that Howard works for and, as is apparently standard in these situations, warning him not to call the police. Patricia's pissed that she didn't hear about this until now, but Howard assures her that he's going to handle it by giving the kidnapper what he wants. Michael interjects that it might not be that easy: "Brandon's old enough to identify him," he says carefully. When Howard and Patricia realize that Michael's saying the kidnapper doesn't plan to give Brandon back alive, they start arguing about calling the police until Fi stands up to say she and Michael will take care of it, and without involving the cops. "Howard and Patricia -- The Clients," the subtitles tell us. Fi tells them to back off each other, and Michael tells Howard what to do when he gets the call for instructions: refuse to do anything without proof of life, "And then you're gong to ask for a face-to-face meeting." Michael plans to follow the kidnapper back to Brandon. Patricia thinks that sounds dangerous (because she hasn't known Michael long enough to realize that his first plan never works), but Howard doesn't care. Whatever it takes to get Brandon back," he says bravely. Big talk for a guy with grass stains on his face.
Later, at the marina, a cleaned-up Howard is standing at an appointed meeting place on a slight rise under a tree. Michael, Fi, and Sam are watching from the parked Charger some distance off, and Sam is also staked out, leaning against his Buick in the parking lot and eating a yogurt. Patricia is sniping away about how this is all Howard's fault, for getting promoted to sales manager instead of continuing to work with her like he used to. Michael mildly points out, "Well, I'm sure this was not part of the plan when he took the job." "Well, he should have known the risk!" Patricia snaps. Michael gives Fi a look like, Please control your harpy. Fi actually steps up, walking Patricia through a relaxation exercise. She tells her to close her eyes, breathe deeply, and imagine herself next to a peaceful mountain stream. "Now picture yourself drowning the kidnapper in the stream." Okay, I think I might be starting to like Season Three Fi. She continues: "You're taking a rock from the stream and raising it above your head. And with tremendous force, you're bringing--" Michael interrupts: a guy who has already driven by twice is just now parking his silver BMW and getting out. Watching him approach Howard, Michael VOs, "Smart criminals have a variety of ways to find out if a meeting is under police surveillance. Some are more subtle than others." The kidnapper, a big, craggy looking guy in a suit, introduces himself to Howard. "I'm Santora. Nice to meet you." He even offers a hand to shake, but when Howard takes it, Santora commences beating the crap out of him, sending Howard sprawling. Presumably this isn't one of the more subtle methods. "Santora -- The Kidnapper," announce the subtitles, as Michael explains, "Throw a few punches, and any cops in the area have to come running." But Michael, Fi, and Sam don't, even when Patricia tries to tell Michael to intervene as the beating continues. They have to physically restrain her from getting out of the car, which is unfortunate, because if they'd just cut her loose she probably could have solved this case instantly with the power of her kvetching.
Over on the hill, Santora is asking Howard if anyone else is around, while continuing to kick him when he's down. Howard is rolling around fetally, while Michael VOs, "Behavior in a combat situation is unpredictable." This is a pretty loose use of the term "combat," but at least now I'm glad to know that I was in more "combat" in grade school than I thought. "Sometimes trained soldiers go screaming for the hills. Sometimes guys who've never fired anything bigger than a cap gun turn out to have ice in their veins." Which might explain the crackling sound when Howard gets to his feet, insists nobody else knows about the meeting, and demands to see his son. Santora reaches into his pocket and shows Howard a picture of Brandon holding that day's newspaper. But he's done putting up with Howard's demands. "If anyone touches me, if I'm a minute late checking in with my guys, you never see the kid again. Got it?" Howard does. So Santora pleasantly decks him again, for good measure. "Now let's talk about my diamonds," he says. Still watching from a distance, Michael VOs, "In the field, it's often your human instincts that jeopardize an operation. Helping people is great, but there are times that impulse can get people killed. Sometimes the right thing to do is let a guy bleed for a while." By now, Santora is in his car and driving away. Once he's gone, Michael gets out of the Charger alone to go talk to Howard, while Sam tails Santora in the Buick. That inconspicuous, unobtrusive Buick. Might as well have Santora shadowed by a supernova. Howard tells Michael, "He says he wants the stones in 24 hours, or Brandon dies." "That's not gonna happen," Michael promises. Which part?
After the commercials, Sam rejoins Michael and Patricia back at the loft, unhappily admitting that rather than leading him to the kid, Santora just went to a bar for mojitos. Patricia asks what happened to following him back to Brandon. Uh, maybe the bad guys are forcing your kid to be a bar back? "[Santora's] smart. He's keeping the job compartmentalized," Michael explains. Oh, that makes more sense. A frustrated Patricia asks if Howard's injuries were for nothing, but Sam assures her that they'll know if Santora goes anywhere; he has "a buddy keeping an eye on him." Patricia charmingly demands that they "Waterboard him or something. Make him tell us where Brandon is." Interesting fact I've learned from this recap: "Waterboard" isn't in my spell check, but "Santorum" is. Make of that what you will. Michael explains to her how torture doesn't work, and says there are better ways. Like, for example, something he's currently suggesting called "reverse interrogation." "Never been a big fan, Mike," Sam warns. Patricia asks what that is, and Sam explains they did it during the Cold War. "You send one of your guys in there to be interrogated to learn what the bad guys are worried about." Michael adds, "You play your cards right, their questions will tell you all about them." Michael tells a worried Sam to have faith and asks how long it'll take to set up. "Car, building, some cop lights...a couple hours," Sam muses. Michael gathers up his suit jacket, and on his way out tells Patricia, "We're going to find your son." But first he has an errand to run. Then he'll find her son.
With a couple of free hours, Michael now has time to get in the Charger and head over to that storage place with Fi. "This is a valuable lesson for you," she lectures him as she gets out of the car. "C-4 is meant to be used, not stored....all those times you told me to make the explosions smaller? I shouldn't have listened to you." Does that mean bigger explosions for the rest of the season? That might be cool. He hands her the keys to the locker while he stands there checking the scene. There are a few young boys playing noisily on a neighboring yard, and a black van parked across the street. Michael VOs that these are both signs that you might be walking into a stakeout, and tells Fi out loud to hold on. Another sign is "workers that seem unusually preoccupied," like the storage place employee who keeps looking up at him through her office window. "And curious kids," Michael's VO adds. "No matter where you go in the world, little boys like candy, puppies, and cops." And that's when an unmarked police car rolls up outside, visible in the reflection from a window. Sure enough, in walk the two detectives from earlier. Michael greets them pleasantly: "Detective Paxson! Detective Forget-Your-Name!" Heh. Paxson plays it cool, saying she was thinking about renting a storage unit herself. "You mind if I look at yours? Or you could give us the fake name you used when you rented it. Or go ahead and clear it out. Don't let us stop you." Michael and Fi look at each other, playing innocent. Michael finally claims that he heard she was around, and just came to see her so he could giver her some receipts and show her what he's been up to. She can't really do more than accept the receipts and offer her insincere thanks. And a lame warning: "If you get the urge to destroy evidence, stop by. We'll be waiting for you." As she and Lopez walk away, Fi asks Michael, "Was that flirting, or does she hate you?" "I am not her type," Michael assures her. That's when his cell phone rings. It's Sam, all dressed up and with his hair slicked back, telling Michael he's ready to go. Michael says he's on his way as well. Too bad he can't just blow off the Job Of TheWeek and spend the whole hour messing with Detective Paxson.
Across town, Santora is driving along (presumably having had his fill of mojitos) when an unmarked car flashes its lights and bleats its siren at him. He pulls over, looking more annoyed than nervous, which is certainly not what my reaction would be if I had a kid I was holding for ransom. As Sam steps out of the car, radiating a dirty-cop vibe on all available frequencies, Michael VOs, "When it comes to cover IDs, impersonating a bad cop is much better than impersonating a good one. An honest cop follows policies and procedures, from the way he cuts his hair to the approach he takes when carrying out a traffic stop. Pose as a good cop, and you have to go by the book. Pose as a bad cop, and you can throw out that book and write your own." And not even shave, apparently. Sam pretty clearly shows Santora the kind he's dealing with by walking up to his car and getting in to sit in his shotgun seat. Sam introduces himself, using the same alias as always. "Detective Finley," he says, flashing a badge. Santora tries to blow him off, but Sam claims he has information on someone trying to rip Santora off. "Just worked a drug bust," he explains. "Heard something that might interest you." He snorts a bit of lactose powder off his knuckle like cocaine, just to prove his criminal bona fides, and goes on to say that he busted a junkie named Shep who heard about a plan to steal from Santora. The kidnapper's doubtful, but Sam assures him that Shep usually has good intel, and he makes his offer to Santora: "I'm taking him to the station. For a couple of grand, you can question him first. Interested?" Santora isn't, until Sam adds, "He said something about a kid, if that means anything." That gets Santora's attention. I really hope Santora's thinking about the same kid Sam is and that he doesn't have the equivalent of a small day care center stashed all over town.
In either case, Sam's not dealing with someone as dangerous as Fi is; she's gone to Madeline's to tell her that Michael won't be showing up for dinner. Madeline is seriously grouchy about that, especially since she's cooking and everything. Fi does a piss-poor job of defending Michael, not bothering to mention that he's trying to save a kid, and on a job that Fi drafted him into, no less. All Fi says in Michael's defense is, "He seems to be making progress." Unimpressed, Madeline says, "Don't fool yourself, honey. Loving Michael is always trench warfare." And then she sticks her cigarette in Fi's face and tells her, "You tell him to come to the party." Fi looks taken aback. I'm curious to see how she plans to get this message to Michael in the first place.
Sam and Santora arrive in their separate cars at an abandoned, graffitied warehouse, where Sam says "Shep" is being held inside. Santora hands Sam a fat roll of bills and starts to head inside, saying, "I'll take it from here." But Sam says he's going to have to be in on it, since as the "arresting officer," he's responsible for the suspect and is going to have to explain his condition when he brings him in. After a brief argument, Santora reluctantly agrees. As they walk inside, Santora asks Sam if anyone else knows about this. Chuckling, Sam says, "Officially, I'm in the middle of interviewing you, so if anything happens to me, [Sam's imaginary cop supervisor] knows who to come looking for." Clever. The warehouse is a pretty dramatic setting, with narrow, diaphanous purple drapes hanging from the high ceiling all the way to the floor here and there, and small squares of sunlight shining down at intervals. In one of these squares of light is a chair, and in that chair is a ratty pair of jeans and thermal shirt, and inside those beat-up clothes is Michael, twitching like he's in withdrawal and looking like seven kinds of hell with his wrists tied to the chair's arms. While Sam takes his blazer off and rolls up his sleeves, Santora says he doesn't know "Shep," "But I hear you know me. And my business." Looking pretty nervous at the turn "Shep's" day has taken, Michael VOs, "Interrogation professionals don't ask questions directly. They hide what they know and don't know." In character as Shep, Michael uses a shaky voice to take Sam as Finley to task for screwing him over. "Amateurs tend to ask for exactly what they want," Michael's VO continues, just before Santora asks, "Who told you about the kid?" "It's like playing poker with your cards showing," Michael VOs. "Shep" dodges the question, and Sam backhands him, pretty convincingly. Michael says he just heard about it from a friend of a friend, and that's all he knows. Michael's selling himself short; this is like playing poker with no cards at all. As for the job itself, all Michael says is that someone needed help moving a kid. "They wanted a place that they could stash him for a few days off the street. I found it. Can I go now?" Not so much. He insists he doesn't have any more details, but Santora asks where he met the guy. Michael dodges that question, earning himself another punch from Sam. That gets him talking vaguely about a restaurant or a diner. "When people are desperate for information, they start filling in the blanks," Michael VOs. "Often without realizing it. It's something fortune tellers rely on. It works pretty much the same way for spies." Sam hits Michael again for being too slow to answer, and the VO continues, "Although fortune tellers usually don't get smacked around as much." I don't know, that John Edward guy looks like he's taken the occasional two-by-four upside the face. Finally Santora asks if it was the Seaside Diner off the causeway, and Michael agrees. He can't give a description of the guy, but when Sam gets ready for another smack, Michael quickly says, "The waitress knew him. She called him Flowers." Santora whips out his cell phone and steps away to instruct someone to head to the Seaside Diner and ask for Flowers. Sam says he has to make a call of his own, and leaves Santora alone with Michael. "You two play nice," he warns. Yeah, that should work.
Outside, Sam tells Fi over his cell phone to get her own narrow little ass to the Seaside Diner as well. "Santora's sending a guy there. You might be able to tail him back to Brandon. Just stay out of sight, all right?" Fi wastes time taking offense that Sam thinks he has to tell her that, because right now the most important thing to worry about is Fi's feelings.
Meanwhile, inside the warehouse, Santora is still asking Michael for more details, and emphasizing his continued curiosity by whipping out a knife. Michael's not breaking character: "I was paid a lousy $150 for this job, you think I don't want to tell you?" For Sam's benefit, he raises his voice to scream, "PUT THE KNIFE AWAY! HE'S GOT A SHARP KNIFE!" Sam hears that outside and goes running in, but not before Santora carves a line down Michael's left cheek, not far from the scar that was already there. He could have at least gone down the right check and evened him out. Santora's about to take Michael's ear off next, when Sam appears, his gun leveled at Santora and telling him to put the knife away. "You want me to lean on him, all you have to do is ask," Sam says reasonably. To demonstrate, Sam delivers another punch to Michael and gets Santora to stash the knife. Sam and Michael exchange a look. That's great, Sam, but next time try not staying away so long for the sake of Fi's ego.
Back at Michael's loft, Fi's loading a bunch of guns into a satchel, but she took the time to line them up on Michael's upstairs table first. Looks cooler that way, and it's not like we're in a hurry here. Patricia and Howard are on the level below, and Howard says he wants to come along and help. Fi tells him he's sweet and brave, but he'll just get himself shot. Howard's fine with that. Even if he does get shot, nothing will come out but ice anyway. "Brandon is going to need you alive," Patricia tells him, and Fi agrees, "Getting shot sounds noble until it actually happens to you. Don't volunteer for it unless it's absolutely necessary. Patricia takes Howard into her arms and tells him the kid will be fine, and Fi says, "You want to do something for your son? Don't forget this moment." Because Fi ruins everything, even subtlety.
Back at the warehouse, Santora is still leaning on Michael, who's only saying he was driven along the route they would take, and he doesn't remember anything more. Santora's running out of patience, so to preempt another attack, Sam points his gun at Michael's head and asks Santora, "Listen, I assume there isn't a sign on the place that says the kid is here, so how would he know if he saw it?" He asks if there are guys there, and Santora confirms that there are two. "Shep" says he saw them, but he didn't see the kid. Sam points out that maybe it's not the same place, then and now Santora spills: "He didn't see him because the kid is in a shed behind the house! Now shut up and let me think." That works fine for Sam and Michael, because now they can nod significantly at each other while Santora turns away.
Meanwhile, at the Seaside Diner, a thug is just leaving and calling Santora on his cell phone as Michael VOs, "Searching for a concealed enemy who could be anywhere is a waste of time." "Yeah, it's Jimmy," the thug says into his phone, as the subtitles tell us this is "Jimmy -- Santora's Guy." He says nobody has heard of anyone named Flowers at this diner. Fi comes out behind him, putting on her sunglasses as the VO continues, "Usually, your best bet is to stay put and give your enemy a reason to come to you." With that, Fi takes a cameraphone picture of Jimmy outside his big green pickup truck as Santora tells Jimmy to get back to the house where the kid is stashed. Or, more accurately, the house in front of the shed where the kid is stashed.
Now Fi is following Jimmy's pickup down the road in her Saab as Michael VOs, "To tail someone, you need both skill and instinct." Then why have Fi do it? "You need skill because the driving is tough. You can't get too close and you can't drift too far away. You can't go too fast or too slow." As Fi lets the truck turn off on a causeway without following, the VO continues, "You need instinct because every turn, every lane change, every bridge raises the risk of being seen. Anyone can be trained to follow a car. But it takes good instincts to know when it's time to stop following." Or, in Fi's case, to get bored. And with that, Fi pulls over and texts Sam her picture of Jimmy with the message: "He is somewhere on Hibiscus Island." Well, good; that not only narrows it down, it also is probably a small enough area for Fi to blow up entirely.
Sam gets Fi's message as Santora is yelling at Michael that nobody at the diner has heard of Flowers, and announces that he's shutting the whole operation down. Which I assume does not include dropping Brandon off in front of his house. As Santora turns away to dial his cell phone again, Sam catches Michael's eye. They have an entire non-verbal conversation as Michael VOs, "When you work with someone long enough, you learn to trust them. When things go bad, that trust is the difference between life and death. Of course, knowing that doesn't make it less terrifying to back a play you know nothing about." So Sam quietly approaches Santora with a new theory: maybe Flowers is one of Santora's own guys? What's great about this is that Santora isn't buying anything Michael's telling him, but he trusts Sam completely. So Santora goes back to "Shep" one more time to ask for a description of "Flowers," unaware that Sam is behind him, playing charades to give Michael a description of Jimmy, which Michael dutifully relays to Santora. Deciding he's been double-crossed, Santora kicks Michael's chair over and storms out.
Sam follows him out to the parking lot, asking what's up. Santora says Sam was right: Jimmy is "Flowers," and his own guy is ripping him off. It doesn't seem to occur to Santora why Shep claimed to have seen both "Flowers" and the two goons guarding Brandon, when Flowers=Jimmy=one of those guys. Maybe he's just too grumpy. Sam advises Santora to call it off. "Let the kid go. Hell, just give him to me, I'll tell his parents I found him wandering around." Santora says it's too late, and now he has to clean things up. So he gets his gun out of his glove compartment. "Listen, you've been a standup guy," he tells Sam. "I appreciate that. And I don't want to cause you problems. But that guy in there? Shep? He's gotta die. Now." Santora cocks his gun and heads back to the warehouse. Sam? Turns and watches him. Way to have Michael's back there, Sam.
"Every profession has occupational hazards," Michael VOs after the ads as Sam follows Santora towards the warehouse. "Butchers cut themselves, housepainters fall off ladders, and operatives get asked to help kill their own people." Hey, you want occupational hazards, try being a recapper. You wouldn't believe some of the e-mails I get. Sam puts a hand on Santora's shoulder, only to find Santora's gun in his face. Sam is still maintaining the pretense that he's responsible for the prisoner, and comes up with an alternate plan on the fly that will give Michael a chance without blowing their cover: He, Sam, will claim that Shep attacked him and tried to escape, and Sam shot him. But to sell the story, Santora needs to shoot Shep with "Detective Finley's" "service weapon," by the road. Santora agrees, and swaps guns with Sam. Sam has Santora wait outside while he goes in for Michael. And to explain the plan to him, of course.
Inside, he only has a few seconds to tip Michael back upright and untie him while explaining the plan. "You still pack a pretty good punch, Sam," Michael moans. Sam brings Michael up to speed on the good news, which is that they're closing in. "And the bad news?" Michael asks. "Santora wants to kill you first," Sam says. "I convinced him to do it with my gun, up on the side of the road. Make it look like you were trying to get away." Do we even know if Sam's gun is loaded with live rounds? Probably safest to assume it is. He gives Michael a cell phone and tells him, "When you get free, take his car and head to the causeway. I'll get you the address. Good luck, Mikey." Santora comes in, apparently having missed all of that incriminating shit just now, and waves Michael outside.
Outside, Michael begs for his life, claiming he can tell Santora more. He cries pathetically, right up until the moment when he snatches Santora's gun and tosses it away. Then, after a brief fight in which it should be pretty clear that "Shep the junkie" is about as strung out as your average UFC fighter, Santora's on the ground, and Michael's got his arms around his neck in a sleeper hold, snarling through gritted teeth. He drops that pretense as soon as Santora's in a doze, then snatches his keys from his pocket and drives off in his Beamer, snatching Sam's gun from the pavement as he goes.
Santora recovers quickly enough to run back in and tell Sam -- who was busy snorting another knuckle of lactose -- "He got away!" He doesn't seem remotely suspicious that a junkie named Shep had faster moves and reflexes than he did. Sam acts enraged and horrified that there's a junkie fugitive out there with his gun. A moment later, they're in Sam's fake cop car, and Sam says he thinks "Shep" is going to meet up with Jimmy, whom Santora told to sit tight at the house. So Sam asks where the house is. Santora is reticent about sharing that information, but after a little more yelling, Sam gets an address: 1313 Prospect. Sam whips out his phone, explaining that there's a security office on that island, and he'll ask if they've seen him. Of course, he's really calling Michael, and for Santora's benefit, he identifies himself as "Officer Finley" and says, "I'd like to know if you've seen anyone go to 1313 Prospect Street?" "Uh, there's someone going there right now," Michael snarks, and hangs up. Then he dials Fi to tell her he has the address.
She meets him on the street outside, locked and loaded. Inside the house, Jimmy and the other goon are too riveted by a baseball game on TV to notice there are visitors to the property. Fi's picking the lock on the shed as Michael VOs, "More battles have been decided by pennant races than people imagine." A moment later, they're looking at Brandon, sitting on a cot with a gag over his mouth. Michael scoops him up, and the three of them are off in the Saab without a single shot ever having been fired. But how does Michael rescue abducted children in the off-season?
Sam's fake police car pulls into the driveway moments after the Saab leaves, and Santora sees his own car still parked there, which tells him "Shep" is there after all. "We do him and Jimmy first, then the kid," Santora decrees. Sam sends him on ahead, offering to cover him, but when Santora leaves, Sam instead says under his breath, "Have fun in there, you son of a bitch." I'm not really sure how they both have guns again, is the only thing.
The two goons in front of the TV are pretty surprised when Santora bursts n behind them, his gun leveled. "You thought you could steal from me?" Santora accuses angrily. Jimmy has no idea what's happening, or why the shed out back is now standing open. The other goon draws on Santora, and so does Jimmy, and with three guys yelling and pointing guns at each other, Michael VOs, "It's always best to have business arguments unarmed. When tempers are high and everyone's got a gun, you never know what's going to set someone off." With that, Sam -- who has been listening to this from outside the house -- fires his gun into the lawn, and that seems to do it: the sound of gunfire erupts from the house. Sam walks away with a satisfied expression. All in a day's work.
So now Michael and Fi are sitting with Patricia, Howard, and Brandon at a restaurant, advising them to leave Miami in case Santora's friends come looking for them. Assuming there are any left alive. Howard says that's their plan; they're going to start over, together. It's worth pointing out that Patricia is still wearing the same clothes we met her in at the beginning of the episode, so I'm thinking this is all the same day, even if Michael is more presentable now. The clients leave, and I assume the team's only payment for this job was the cash Sam shook Santora down for, which after all is a hell of a lot more than they usually earn. "A fresh start together. Inspiring, don't you think?" Fi asks Michael leadingly. Michael says he'd be happy just to stay out of jail. "Come on, Fi, we got a date. At the storage unit." But I thought you said you weren't Detective Paxson's type?
At night, a moving truck rolls into the storage facility, and the cops staked outside just let it go on by. After all, everyone knows that Michael Westen only drives a black Charger, so it couldn't possibly be him. "When a front door is being watched," Michael VOs while Sam turns on a pressure valve in the back of the truck, "your best option, often times, is just to make a back door. If you don't mind getting damp, a water saw is a great tool for the job." While Fi holds the flashlight, Michael uses a big gun that shoots a narrow, high-pressure stream of water that's powerful enough to cut right through the concrete wall. It's like instant, highly focused water erosion. "It will cut through the wall much more quietly than a metal saw. And won't ignite anything flammable that happens to be lying around." After a while, Michael's cut a nice big rectangle through the wall, and he and Fi load crates of C-4 and detonators into the back of the truck. I suspect it would have been really easy to come in through the back of the wrong locker, in which case Michael would have had to be satisfied with rescuing from Detective Paxson someone else's giant stash of drug paraphernalia and child pornography. Two good deeds in one episode!
Later that night (I assume), Michael comes out of his loft in casual clothes, to find Detective Paxson once again hanging out in his courtyard. He invites her in to look at more receipts, and she says she looked at that storage unit that wasn't his. He asks her what she found. "A hole in the back of the wall and a puddle of water inside." Michael says something about heavy rains doing some funny things, and she waggles an eyebrow at him, saying, "This isn't over." Well, lady, unless you learn not to spring your traps too early, it might as well be.
So now we're at Madeline's house, and what appears to be Michael's fourth birthday party, at least going by the number of candles on the cake. So Michael made it after all. Yikes, that was one hell of a busy day he just had: getting sprung from jail, having a client meeting, two trips to the storage space, a reverse interrogation, a fight, a car theft, renting a truck and a water saw, and four costume changes, all from morning to evening. Are we sure this show takes place in Miami and not closer to the Arctic Circle, where the days are twenty-some hours long? Whatever the case, the party is underway (presumably having started at around three a.m.), and there's some kind of aggressive Mexican fiesta theme going on. Michael nervously takes a bite of birthday cake. "Did you make this?" he asks Madeline, smiling forcefully. "I wanted this to be special, so I cooked," Madeline says proudly. Sam slaps his birthday gift for Michael up on the table: a six-pack of beer with one bottle missing. "A five-pack!" Michael says with as much excitement as he can manage. "Thanks!" Sam gushes about how good it is. "Or, you know, so I heard." Michael offers some to Sam, and he quickly accepts, snagging the bottle with the bow stuck to the cap. Fi gives Madeline a look, and Madeline offers Sam a bottle opener. He tries to decline, always having one on his person, but she insists on hauling him into the kitchen. So now that everyone knows that Fi wanted to be alone with Michael, because she's just too special to give him her gift in front of everyone else, she hands him a long box. He unties the ribbon, then lifts the lid with a nervous wince followed by a big fake smile when it doesn't blow up in his face. He lifts out what's inside: a narrow blade with a scabbard, brown with age. "It's a bayonet," he observes. "Used during the first World War for close fighting," Fi explains. "Fi..." Michael begins, and finally comes up with, "thanks?" Fi tells Michael about the trench warfare analogy (though not attributing it to Madeline, as though anyone else would have said that), and with another look toward the kitchen, she gets out of her chair and whispers in Michael's ear, "So I thought you should arm yourself." Well, I know what to give Fi for her next birthday: a dictionary, so she can look up what a fucking metaphor is. She gives Michael a peck on the cheek, then joins the others in the kitchen. The scene freezes before Michael gets up and runs away from all these crazy people while he has the chance.
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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