In the bullpen, Lester gives McNulty some papers, telling him the background on Glekas and asking him to have Fitz run Glekas, too. And maybe while he's at it, he could run Daniels and look up what the deal is with his mysterious money! I had totally forgotten about it and then looking up that link to the meeting reminded me and pissed me off all over again.
Parking lot. Ziggy's back, only this time he's with Johnny Fifty instead of the late Steven L. Miles. They're staring at the cars, and talking strategy. Johnny wants to know why they don't just do it through the bobtail lane, but Ziggy says that it would call too much attention to them. Instead, he says that they need bolt cutters for the fence, and a wooden platform they can use to drive the cars on. Johnny Fifty points out a patch of grass they could easily drive on, but Ziggy sternly tells him, "That's not the plan."
Detail office. Beadie's watching cans come off a ship. Fortunately, the camera's entered the room just in time for Beadie to see a can disappear, which she announces to Bunk and Lester. Old hands by now, they ask whether it's on the Talco line, and whether Horseface is working it: yes, and yes. Beadie asks whether they should try to follow it, and Lester notes that they know where it's going, and gets on the radio to Carver, reading off the container number so that Carver can look out for it. We watch Carver totally not writing down any of the information, and then ask Lester what he and Herc are supposed to do with it. Lester asks him to see if it arrives at Pyramid. Carver rolls his eyes: "And if it does?" Lester rolls his eyes: "See what happens then." You guys! This case is tearing you apart! The exchange ends, and Herc grunts, "I'm starting to think that, as criminal investigators, we're not really respected." Only "starting"?
FBI. I'm guessing McNulty has just apologized to Fitz, given that Fitz is breezily saying, "That ain't necessary, Jimmy. I knew we were fucking the dog on that Barksdale thing. Who do I tell? We got this new ASAC thinks it's all about loyalty and ass-kiss. Believe me, this ain't like your agency. You piss them off, you ride the boat. Here? Well, you come into work one morning, you find yourself assigned to some fucking dust-bowl Indian rez in Arkansas." McNulty chuckles, and says that he was still out of line -- he even sounds sincere! "Fuck it," says Fitz, and asks what McNulty's brought today. McNulty opens his folder and hands it over; it contains photos of Sergei and Glekas. "White boys," notes Fitz. "Different look for you." McNulty says what's odd is that neither dude seems to have a record, other than some intel Customs had on Glekas. Fitz goes to his terminal and enters Glekas's name first, saying that whatever Customs had should show up in the database he's querying; it doesn't. Trying something else, Fitz puts his thumbprint on a handy desktop scanner: "This'll give us any contact your boy might have had with us, agency-wide." Sure enough, this returns info on a case agent named Ernest Koutris, from San Diego. Koutris, Koutris...that's a Finnish name, no? Kidding! Fitz clicks the agent's name and calls, while McNulty marvels that he needs dozens of approvals just to call the next county. And he probably has to use a rotary phone, too!