"It's dangerous to say no to a spy," Michael VOs, over even more bikini porn than usual, since we're at a sprawling hotel pool. Again. "In a business where motives are questionable and loyalty is skin-deep, declining the wrong request can earn you a trip to the morgue. So if you're asked to soak in a Jacuzzi by a black-ops sociopath, who's paranoid about listening devices, you pick out your favorite trunks and wade in." Michael does indeed wade into this scene, finding Gilroy alone in the Jacuzzi with a martini. "Gilroy -- Black Ops Sociopath," the subtitles remind us. Michael gets in with obvious trepidation, and complains like he's a lobster being boiled. Gilroy says he wants to talk about their future. They flirt some, and Gilroy is still kind of grumpy about last week's failed operation. Michael blames Gilroy's plan for that, and promises to get the file as long as Gilroy doesn't saddle him with another partner. But Gilroy says the file has already been destroyed, although he's already dismissed his initial plan to kill Michael and get on with his life. Michael: "Thanks?" Now, as plan B, Gilroy wants Michael to steal flight data for every private plane in and out of Miami over the next six weeks. Michael quits playing and simply asks, "What are you doing?" He says this is too risky to take on without knowing more. Gilroy refuses to share, as always, and frames his question thusly: "Do we have a future together or not?" Michael considers, and finally says, "Double my fee." Why not triple it, or quadruple it, since Michael always works for free anyway? Gilroy asks if that's the price of ignorance, and Michael says it's the price of privacy. Gilroy agrees to the arrangement. "Can I get out now?" Michael asks. Gilroy just smiles at him flirtily. I've been trying not to read too much into Gilroy's increasingly effeminate line readings and mannerisms -- the ones that can't just be written off as Britishness -- but then he totally checks out Michael's ass as he gets out of the Jacuzzi.
Back at the loft, Michael admits to Sam that he didn't find much out from Gilroy, and the two of them briefly descend into poker metaphors before Michael hits on the idea of checking with the Coast Guard. "How you gonna get in?" Sam asks, and Michael's smile makes him wish he hadn't. Specifically, Michael's plan is for Sam to have one of his buddies hire him as a temp so he can get the goods. Sam points out the problem with buddies: "You can't make them unwitting accomplices to a felony." I assume it's the "unwitting" part Sam's concerned about. Michael asks if Sam has a better idea. Tell Gilroy to pound sand? Sam agrees, "But I'm getting an itchy feeling." "You're sure that's from a moral dilemma?" Michael cracks, which is probably something he should have held back on. This discussion will have to be tabled for now, because they've just reached the landing, to find the Michael's front door is A) scorched around the edge (freshly scorched, that is) and B) ajar. "Deadbolt was cut with a blowtorch," Michael diagnoses as he and Sam both draw their handguns. They jump inside, and they're not going to be shooting anyone, at least not right away, because the first person they see is already dead, in the middle of the floor in a pool of blood. Good thing the place isn't carpeted. Michael goes to investigate, then whirls around when a voice above and behind him chirps, "Hey, pal! Sorry about the mess." There's his old buddy Larry, up on the loft railing, and I hope Michael plans to come up with a fix for this situation where anyone could easily snipe at him from his own balcony. Larry cackles at Michael, and pointedly says it's nice to see him, too. "And Sam, I also see you," he adds, even more pointedly. Larry acts hurt at the reception Michael gives him: "We do 20 missions on three continents and this is how you greet me?" Michael reminds us, "That was before you faked your own death and came back without a soul." Which cues the subtitles to remind us that this is "Larry -- Undead Spy." And I have to admit, Tim Matheson either looks better than he did the last time he was on the show, or his cadaverous appearance is simply less startling now. Michael reminds him that he last saw Larry through a sniper scope. Larry protests, "I am not here to kill you. He was. I saved your life." This will soon prove to be true only under Larry-logic, but for now, as he comes down the loft steps, Larry doesn't want to get into any more detail until they figure out what to do with the body. "How attached are you to that couch?" he asks.