Back at the barn, as everyone's waiting for the Lobos' force to approach, Chibs notices that Juice is huddled by himself. He heads over and tries to shake Juice into living in the moment. Then everyone heads over to see the two vehicles that have pulled up. One stays, the other goes. Hey! It's the tortilla truck! And after a few minutes, we see that it contains naught but the bodies that were formerly attached to the heads that we saw back in Act One. The message is clear to us viewers: Pedro isn't the mole. But that doesn't stop Luis from killing him anyway.
In the quiet letdown, when it seems that everyone is thinking, "Oh, crap...," Juice tells Chibs he's heading over to the Coke-K Corral, on account of not being able to sleep anyway. Chibs watches him go, his radar pinging.
Back at the Teller-Knowles house, Tara's unwinding from the fundraiser and/or waiting up for Jax, a cup of coffee in her hand. (Girl, I have been there. Babies are exhausting. Adorable, but the sworn enemies of their parents' sleep.) Jax sits down across the table from Tara. She speaks first: "It's just a matter of time before it hurts our kids." Jax says, "I'd never let that happen." Tara practically whispers her reply: "I'm sorry. I have to go. I have to get them out of here." Jax nods. He admits that SAMCRO's in way over their collective head; at least he does not add, "But hey -- it's still attached. Small blessings, huh?" Tara tells Jax that there's a hospital in Portland, Oregon, Providence Hospital -- "They're interested in me." Jax chokes out, "You should go. Take Elyda, bring the boys with you. Just stay there until things calm down here. Then we'll figure it all out." Tara's on the verge of tears -- whether it's from relief that Jax isn't fighting her on this or anger because she should have routed him when he pulled that, "I have to be a man and support my family" business, who knows? She then asks about Gemma, and Jax lays it out: "Tell her the truth. You're protecting our family." They clasp hands across the table, holding on for dear life.
Gemma's cleaning up at the clubhouse. (This is one of the things I've always found endearing about her personality: She self-soothes by cleaning.) Her phone rings, and it's Clay. He asks where she is, and Gemma says, "Heading home. You okay?" Clay says he is (small lie), then tells her he's on staying at the clubhouse (medium lie). This is news to Gemma, who is currently click-clacking across the clubhouse floor with no husband in sight. She asks, "You want me to come by?" and Clay replies, "Nah. I'm in lockdown in the chapel. I need the quiet." (BIG LIE.) This is news to Gemma, who is now standing right outside the empty chapel. Tig is stretched out on a nearby pool table, idly listening to the conversation. The two spouses exchange love-yous, then she hangs up. Tig, who has probably studied Gemma enough to qualify for a doctorate in Old Ladyology, knows something's up, but Gemma shakes off the icky feeling from listening to Clay's bald-faced lies, and says, "Take me home, Tiggy." Tig leaps off the pool table, slings Gemma's purse over his shoulder in a manner that would make runway models prostrate themselves in professional awe, then follows Gemma out the door.