Butchie's. Omar's apparently just finished telling Butchie the story of his encounter with Mouzone: "You think Brother played me?" Butchie says no, since if Omar couldn't tell when a dude was lying, Butchie would be "talking to a dead man" right now. Good point. He asks whether Stringer told Omar that Mouzone was involved in Brandon's murder, and when Omar says he did, Butchie says that Mouzone is in New York and Philadelphia most of the time: "If Avon contracted him to get at you, the brother wouldn't have stopped coming until you two were bumped." Omar seems to believe this, too. Butchie sadly adds that the whole thing is his fault, since he went along (however reluctantly) with Prop Joe's whole setup: "Avon's father was plain evil, and the son ain't no better. Neither is Stringer, if we're making a list." Omar declares that he'll be "going hard after Stringer," and...shit, Stringer had better put some more locks on his door if their whole honour-among-thieves, occasional-parley arrangement is over. Butchie chuckles that he supposes there's no point in trying to talk Omar down (and I'm kind of surprised he'd even want to, under the circumstances), and Omar laughs, "You been my bank for how long and gonna ask me something like that?" And, I mean, honestly. I've only known Omar for a year and I know better. Butchie asks how Omar intends to take down Stringer, and Omar says that he doesn't know. Economic sanctions? Omar says he's going to take some time and think about it, but that Stringer's fate is sealed. Butchie raises his chin, suddenly, and squints his lids, his pupils flying around wildly. "What you see, Butchie?" asks Omar. Butchie smiles sadly: "Too much, boy. Too damn much." Omar sits back in his chair, sighing.
Also sighing? Daniels. At the detail office, he pinches the bridge of his nose, and then somewhat lamely tells Herc and Carver, "A lot happened overnight." "Not to us," shrugs Carver bitterly. Daniels, dude, remember how pissed you were at Jay when he didn't call your ass? Admittedly, the stakes for Herc and Carver were a lot lower, but still, no one likes to have his time wasted. Daniels says, "This isn't personal--" "Fuckin'-a right," says Herc ballsily. "We're not even people in this unit. We're your goddamn pack mules." Carver agrees, listing the scut work they always have to do. "That's part of the job," Daniels defends. "The job had a little more rip-and-run to it, the way I remember it," spits Herc. Daniels leans forward, narrowing his eyes as he intensely tells them, "These cases are more than that. We're putting people in jail with phone taps and typewriters." Herc thinks Daniels is saying that they aren't up for the work of the detail, and in the pregnant silence, Carver dramatically stands up and announces, "I saw on the postings that Major Colvin needs a sergeant in the Western. Flex squad. And last time I checked, I had stripes." He turns on his heel and stomps off. Well, if it's adventure he wants, he'll get plenty of that working under Bunny next season.