It's lunchtime at Madeline's, and Ruth is there with all three surviving Westens, not exactly endearing herself to Madeline with her cucumber allergy and her protein aversion. As Ruth gets up and leaves the table, Nate, with impeccably bad timing, decides to bring up Vegas again, and Michael surfaces from a well-justified facepalm to try to tell Madeline she might feel better someplace safer. "Like three thousand miles away safer?" Madeline brays. During this exchange, Fi has walked in unannounced wearing a green dress that doesn't feature a single scrap of men's black shirt anywhere on it as far as I can tell. She plunks a cucumber salad onto the table, but says she can't stay. She wants to talk to Michael alone. They go into the front room, and she tells him about her visit with Larry. Michael tells her not to believe everything he said. Except, you know, the part where they worked together for three years, because that part's true.. "After all you saw him do, I don't know how you can stay in the same room with him," Fi judges. "I can't be with you right now. If you need help with Carlos, you can ask Sam." And Fi heads out. Wow, if that's how hanging out with Larry makes her feel about Michael, imagine how she's going to feel about sewing.
At the loft, Sam announces, "Mikey, it's time to celebrate my genius." Setting up a portable lightbox, he says, "I was going blind futzing with all that flight data in my laptop." Sure, "flight data.." But going old-school is what helped him figure out which flight Gilroy is after. Sam has printed each flight plan on a separate transparency sheet and sorted them by date. When he stacks each date's flights on the lightbox, Florida and the entire Caribbean are spiderwebbed with plane routes. "It's like pick-up sticks," Sam says. "It's all crisscross. It's a big cluster. And every day is exactly like that except one day: the 22nd." And that day's flights show the usual cluster, except for one blank area bisected by a single red line. Which means government mandated clearance, which means a black flight. Which means that's what Gilroy wants. "And this is all he's gonna get," Sam declares. Michael protests that Gilroy asked for everything. And Sam gets pissed. He says that he, his friend (the nameless and faceless one at the Coast Guard, not Michael), and every person on all of those planes is on the line. "You want this data, Mike? You're going to have to steal it yourself, because I'm not gonna give it to you." He packs everything up, saying, "And if that makes me the Boy Scout that you and your friend Larry think I am, that's fine." Heading for the door, he refuses to help any more, "Until you get your head out of your ass." Michael yells his name as he tells him to call Fi if he needs backup with Carlos. Wow, so who does he call now?