Back at the hospital, Jax has handed Gemma the statement she's to read to the Feds. He stresses, "This is what happened at the safe house, point for point." Gemma quickly figures out that Jax got his statement from Stahl, and all her confused irritation drains away. With real fear in her eyes, Gemma asks, "What did you do?" Jax leans forward and says, "I'm protecting my club and my family." Gemma orders him, "Do not get in bed with this bitch," and Jax lunges forward to tell Gemma what's what. "This is not up for discussion. Do you hear me? Right now, you're not my mother. You're just a member's old lady, and I am telling you, this is what you need to do to protect SAMCRO." Gemma shakes her head and starts, "Jackson --" but Jax cuts her off with, "Mom. You need to trust me. And this has to be our secret." Gemma looks back at the statement. Again, great scene, mostly because you can tell that Jax's spiel about being a member's old lady is partly him channeling Clay, partly him trying to blow off frustration that his own old lady is not exactly making his life easier inside or outside the club. But let's not forget: Gemma accedes to this because, above SAMCRO, she loves her family and Jax ended up hitting her where she lived with the idea that by going along with this, they could save each other.
Capering time! Step four: Drive the tow truck off the main roads and on a service road. Step five: Have Kozik punch the Mayans' guy and toss him out of the van. Step six: Drive the van to a dead end where the collective firepower of SAMCRO is ready and waiting for the two Mayan bikers. Step seven: Begin shooting, A-Team style, where there are a lot of bullets flying around and yet nobody actually getting hit. Step eight: Crack open the Madina Janitorial Supplies van like a pinata and verify that there is smack buried in the industrial-sized barrel of Comet cleansing powder. The guys are all giddy that nothing has gone wrong for a change. Kozik is grinning like a hyena, but his smile fades when he looks over and sees Tig giving him a glare that implies a long, slow, painful and psychotically creative near-death incident.