As Sam starts driving his SUV, Michael VOs, "The more immediate and unexpected the test, the more likely they're up to serious trouble. And the more likely they'll kill you if you don't pass." Sam, who heard the entire conversation about the passport via whatever kind of wire Fi's wearing, reaches Michael on his Bluetooth and tells him to get the ID kit Sam conveniently keeps at the loft and bring it to Fi's place. Michael asks if she's okay. "Yeah, as long as you get there like ten minutes ago," Sam says. "I'll buy you some time but you better skedaddle." By now Sam is on a narrow residential street, and he skids the vehicle sideways so it blocks both lanes, then gets out as cars stop behind him, trapped and unable to get past. So he's helping save Fi's life, but he's accomplishing it by doing something he should be killed for.
Ten minutes ago, I guess, Michael roots through Fi's incongruously frilly underwear drawer and quickly finds Fi's passport. As he starts paging through it, he VOs, "Between matching holograms and color-shifting inks, altering a page in a modern passport is virtually impossible." Even with that whole tackle box full of gear he has? Oh, well, we tried. Tough luck, Fi. Meanwhile, Sam sees the black SUV carrying Gabriel's goons join the queue behind him. "So if all the pages are full and you have to adjust someone's travel in a hurry," the VO continues, "it's better just to swap out the page entirely." Luckily Sam's kit has some fake passport pages, which he stamps profusely before pulling out some thread to sew it into the binding. "It's as easy as pulling out the stitching on a cheap t-shirt. You just need the skill to put it back together." Meanwhile, the black SUV hops the curb and passes Sam's SUV on the sidewalk. He tells Michael what's going on, and hopes he's nearly done. "I'm doing the best I can, Sam," Michael says through a mouthful of thread that he's biting off, because the one thing not in that kit is scissors. As he continues working quickly, his VO continues, "There's no saying 'I'm sorry;' in the field," which we remember from a few weeks ago, thanks. "So if it feels like a gamble's about to come up short, you put on a smile and try to put your hands on a weapon without anyone noticing." I guess that's why Fi makes sure she has the bottle in her hand, under the pretext of pouring more drinks. Either that or she's really thirsty, or just wants to die drunk. Michael wraps up his counterfeit work, replaces the altered passport and the false drawer bottom, packs up the kit, and hides in Fi's shower just as the bad guys come in and raid her underwear drawer. Back at Gabriel's, he answers a cell phone call, but not without first saying "Excuse me." Just because you've sent a couple of Golems to a guest's home to dig through her underwear so they can inspect her personal documents, that's no reason to be rude. After hanging up, he apologizes to her. "In my line of work, you can't be too careful." Fi knows the feeling, and they drink to Madrid. Fortunately Coleman doesn't try to extend the topic by reminiscing about Thailand.