We next see Spiros and Briefcase in the parking garage. Briefcase gets in the back seat of a pearl-gray BMW, with a kid we haven't seen before at the wheel. Spiros gets into the shotgun seat, the driver asking, "We leave the Benz here?" Spiros says something in Greek, and adds, "It's hot." The driver pulls out, politely paying the clerk at the gate.
Too late, Kima figures out that Spiros & Co. didn't come back to the Benz he arrived in, and radios as much to Bunk, who hasn't seen them back on the street. Kima pulls out of her spot, and is waiting at the gate for her turn to pay when The Greek comes around the corner and up the pedestrian walk and riiiiiight past Kima, without her noticing a thing. Finally, The Greek's shambling appearance makes sense.
Port of Baltimore. Frank's standing on a ship when Nat rolls up, asking whether Frank's about done. Frank curtly says, "These nine here still got to be stripped." Nat somewhat smugly notes that it's harder than it looks. "What ain't?" says Frank philosophically. Frank starts to walk behind Nat, returning to his task, but Nat stops him with a question -- whether Frank knows how a Moonshot got his name. Frank: "Yeah, and I could give a fuck." Wow, he really must be busy if he hasn't got time to hear a good old-fashioned how-a-guy-got-his-nickname yarn. Nat cracks up. I'm going to guess Moonshot's nickname had something to do with an impromptu crack flash, but don't quote me.
Detail office. Rhonda's asking whom Room 520 was registered to. Bunk reports that it was a Stephen Rados, who offered an address from northwest D.C. Beadie suggests that Rados could be "the man with the good tailor." We see that they're looking at one of the shots McNulty took at the valet stand -- The Greek, with cigarette; Spiros; and Briefcase. Daniels suggests running a paper trail on Rados, and then hands a folder to Bunk to give to Rhonda, regarding their "only tangible piece of progress from the raids," asking what they can do for White Mike. Rhonda perfunctorily says that if he gives up his suppliers, he could get away with nothing but a long probation, and that they could also move him. Beadie frowns: "Witness protection?" Rhonda says that the feds are good for that, but Beadie doesn't like that explanation: "You're gonna give a drug dealer a ride like that? What about Frank Sobotka?" Rhonda says that the feds "took a shot at him and got nothing," as far as she knows. Kima says that the FBI was more interested in "busting up the union--" "Than anything else in the case," Beadie finishes. "If we came at Frank straight?" Daniels shoots her a look, like he can't believe the detail's cute little mascot is talking like a real-ass cop, and then cuts his eyes to Rhonda, who replies, "You can't make him any kind of specific offer yourself. Only I can do that, and only after I get an okay from my front office." Kima suggests that Beadie could "plant the seed," and McNulty adds, "There's no better messenger, Counselor." Rhonda looks from Daniels to Beadie, and finally tells her, "Take a shot." Beadie doesn't wait for further instruction, excitedly pushing herself out of her chair and getting the hell out of there. McNulty asks whether she's going to Frank's house. "The union hall," grins Beadie. "That's his house." Go get 'em, scout!