Back at Michael's loft the next day, Jimmy sits in a chair bitching about his wounds and his situation: "Those guys at Security Associates, they're gonna kill me as soon as they get a chance." "Exactly," Michael says. "And that makes them predictable, and that's how we're going to solve your problem." Always with the tactical judo, our Michael. He asks Sam to secure him a "disposable" boat, and Sam says he knows a guy. Jimmy's slow enough to make Michael have to explain that people are going to need to think Jimmy's dead, but before he can get much further into that, his phone rings again. This time it's Fi, telling him about a delivery she received. "Someone was kind enough to break into the trunk of my car." Pulling back a beach towel to reveal a pair of assault rifles to the camera -- and everyone walking by on the street -- she calls it "a present." Michael warns her to be careful with them, and Fi moves on to the next subject. He needs to go see his mom. Michael's off, with orders for Sam to take care of the boat. You know how one of the pleasures of serial TV is watching characters develop over time? I'm looking forward to watching Michael get better at blowing off his mom.

Michael enters Madeline's house to see her lighting her next cigarette off the last. She's acting like a total stress-monkey, and points out that among her other many minor concerns, Michael's little brother Nate is still in Fort Lauderdale. Michael's not too worried about that. Madeline complains about her situation, something about people with guns and suits always hanging around, and Michael says, "All these years, you wondered why I didn't come home, why I didn't call. This is why. I never wanted this for you." Because he'd never hear the end of it from her, of course. Finally, Madeline gets it. But getting it is always a temporary situation for Madeline. "It still doesn't explain why you didn't write." Madeline, do me a favor: smoke faster.