Then we're back at the airport, which is, you'll recall, the home base of Miami-based spy Diego Garza, the poor bastard Michael glommed onto a couple of weeks ago and got drafted into becoming his contact point. As Michael sneaks in the back entrance of Diego's hangar, he VOs, "Spies hate drop-in visits. Any questionable contact has to be reported to superiors, a process that involves hours of paperwork and uncomfortable questions. If you're a questionable contact, that gives you some leverage. If you know where a spy operates, even a guy running a lowly import-export cover business [Michael sneaks up behind Diego and hisses his name, I guess because he figures that if this doesn't work out he might as well commit suicide by spy], you can make someone's life miserable." When Diego isn't happy to see him, Michael asks, "What, I can't just drop by and say hi to my favorite 'point of contact?'" Michael's air quotes have the power to call down subtitles, which currently read "Diego Garza -- Michael's Point Of Contact." Michael asks Diego a favor: check out the name Tom Strickler. He even writes it down on Diego's desk notepad and tears the sheet off for him. "Maybe you should Google him," Garza suggests. "Or find someone who cares." Michael's way ahead of him on that, because he's just turned Garza into that very person. As he leaves the sheet on Garza's desk, he informs him, "I let the local Homeland Security office know that I was dropping by and leaving that document there." Heh. Poor Garza.

Michael and Fi are walking across the grounds of a schmancy condo complex, Fi doing her contractually-obligated Complaining About What Michael's Up To This Week. "In my experience, if something's too good to be true, it's best to shoot it, just in case," she says, which is a good line if not really in context. Did Christopher McQuarrie write this episode? She's still arguing when they approach the entrance, which is showing clear signs of a break-in. They ditch the groceries and go quiet, briefly making me wonder if Michael left those clues himself just to shut her up for thirty seconds. She draws her gun and they go in carefully, Michael looking naked without a weapon. He VOs, "If you want to stay alive, you have to recognize the signs of a break-in. The most skilled operative in the world won't last long if he walks into an ambush carrying a box of cereal." I think that depends on what the prize in the box is. If it's a loaded Uzi, you're probably good. Michael isn't carrying anything at all, at least not until they get inside the front door. Fi nods at the umbrella stand, and he pulls an automatic out of it and racks the slide. He should have known that was in there; why the fuck else would Fi own an umbrella stand? They split up, and Fi rattles the French doors into her bedroom while Michael covers the other exit from the room, VOing, "When a target is cornered, the best strategy is to flush them into a chokepoint where they have two options: surrender or be shot." When a figure bursts into the hallway, Michael snaps, "Drop it!" Down goes another gun, in pieces on the tile floor. Oh, and about the person who was holding it... "Of course, if your target turns out to be thirteen years old, carrying a dismantled pistol, it changes the tactical response somewhat." That must be why the kid has time to duck into the bathroom and lock the door. Michael hands his gun back to Fi and busts in, only to see the boy dropping out through a window that's too small for Michael to follow. Michael darts out the back door, not letting a conveniently-timed pickup truck backing out of a garage stop him from cornering the kid against a high fence. The kid apologizes and says he was just going to "borrow" the gun, which Michael doesn't believe. What I don't believe is that the only weapon the kid could find inside Fi's apartment was disassembled. Someone like Fi would have dozens of weapons mounted on spring clips to every available surface in her home. She probably stirs her soup with a .357 Magnum. Anyway, Michael says he'll have to call the kid's parents. But the kid protests, until Michael gets him to tell him what's happening: "I have to kill my stepdad." Michael's eyes narrow like somebody just blew a dog whistle that only he can hear. Which, in a sense, is pretty much what just happened.