At the detail office surreptitiously occupied by Major Crimes, we open on two blown-up pages of a grid map, surrounded by print outs of clocks that are pointing to corresponding meeting points on said map pages. So either the detectives have managed to piece together more info about Marlo and his movements since Sydnor's big discovery last episode, or the pressures of the case have triggered a form of OCD in Freamon, so that he's now compelled to post pictures of clocks in every room he walks into. The former explanation seems more likely, though the latter would certainly add a tragic what-price-dedication to the proceedings in these final days. Our reverie is interrupted by an incoming call that Freamon promptly intercepts -- it's another picture of a clock, though this one is a fancy model with a thin, elegant font and roman numerals on the face. Conclusion: It's an incoming message for Marlo, most likely from his suppliers, since the Stanfield crew doesn't seem like the type to go in for that I-V-X nonsense. The clock on the virtual wall reads 7:10:44, and you know what time that is? Go time, chumps. Lester quickly jumps on the horn to give Sydnor some urgent instructions -- peel off Monk and proceed directly to the marine terminals on Map 44, Grid G-10. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. "If they're going all the way out there, they just might..." Sydnor begins. Be meeting their supplier, I helpfully conclude. "Damn right," Freamon agrees. Sydnor hurriedly radios the instructions to everyone else on the surveillance team -- head to Grid G-10 on Map 44 and start looking for vehicles belonging to Stanfield associates. As if to confirm that Something Big is about to go down, we see Marlo snapping photos of a clock set to the 7:10:44 meeting location and sending the image to his associates; we also see Freamon intercepting said messages and smiling. It's nice to see someone on the police force actually enjoying his work -- it's been a rare sight this season, what with the crime-scene faking and evidence planting. Freamon punches a number into his cell phone. "McNulty," he says to someone we can only assume is McNulty. "It's on." Then let us not waste another second on setting up the scene.
Walk through the garden? Run! Run, dammit! Did you not hear Freamon say that it was on? You haul ass through that garden, and you do it right now.
"Deserve got nuthin' to do with it." William Munny shares your sentiment, Snoop.