A bunch of SWAT team dudes bust into a house, or an apartment, or a succession of houses and apartments; it's all very fast and chaotic, so it's hard to say. They end up in a grotty downstairs bedroom, where a woman screeches, "He ain't here!...Zach, he ain't here!" The cop tells her they're looking for Savino, and she loses it: "No! He's my baby!" "Yeah, well, your baby shot a cop," the cop informs her. Good morning!
Back at the detail office, Prez and a baggy-eyed Lester are listening to the wire, on which a couple of guys discuss the cops kicking in doors looking for Savino, because of "some shit about he killed a cop." The call ends, and Prez notes, "They're talking about it, anyway." "Ripples in the pond," says Lester. "Talking ain't knowing, is it?" He sighs, and then puts his thinking cap on, commenting that there were two pages to Stringer tonight; he points at a computer: "Only this one after the shooting." "Who's 07," asks Prez, "and what phone is he asking Stringer to call him back?" Too bad Omar's in New York; he knows who 07 is.
Wee-Bey urgently enters the Copy Cat, starting to say that "shit went good," but Stringer silences him, pointing at the radio: it's a news report about Kima's shooting, saying that she "may have been undercover." Stringer starts a copy machine and walks over, telling Wee-Bey to talk, now that the noise has been somewhat muted. He obviously didn't hear the report, because he says that everything was fine, except there was "some bitch curled up in the back seat": "Didn't even see her until the shit popped off." He says he would have let her go -- "She didn't look like the talking type" -- but that Little Man got scared when he saw her, "bugged out, and let a couple go." Stringer asks if Savino didn't tip her off about the girl in the back, but Wee-Bey says that there wasn't time: he got out of the car, they saw him go up the block, and once he was out of sight, Wee-Bey and Little Man did the job as planned. He spreads his hands, like, "What's the big deal?" "Shorty was a cop," says Stringer. Wee-Bey is stunned silent. Stringer delivers the kicker: "And she ain't dead." Wee-Bey actually looks a little scared, folding his arms protectively over her chest, as Stringer asks where they hid the guns. By way of answer, Wee-Bey says that she couldn't have been a cop: "She looked like one of Orlando's hos!" "Bey, where the fuck are the guns?" demands Stringer. Wee-Bey says that they're in a storm drain off Park Heights. Stringer has a follow-up: "What the fuck is wrong with Little Man?" No one ever taught him proper nutrition? Stringer's actually concerned about Little Man bugging out again once he finds out the girl he shot was a cop: "I mean, come on, man. Savino got a story that he can keep to and he know it, but Little Man -- he always been fucking weak like that. Little Man gotta go." Wee-Bey doesn't like it, and doesn't answer at first, but when Stringer presses him, he reluctantly nods. Stringer goes on: "This shit gonna get real heavy...We gotta fall back. I wanna see how it go with this Savino bullshit, see how they go past that. But if the shit don't hold, or if this motherfucking cop wake up and start talking shit, then you gotta go sky up." Wee-Bey really doesn't like that. Stringer asks where Wee-Bey's "got [his] peoples at." Wee-Bey tells him they're in New York, Jersey, Cleveland.... Based on that list, Stringer exiles him to Philadelphia or D.C.: "No profile, no connections, no noise...We gotta be careful." Sure -- why not start now?