[Walter is out in the desert when a car pulls up. He hears his cell phone ringing]
[answers phone] Yeah?
Walter, you see us?
Yeah, I see you.
I'd like you to exit your vehicle and start walking toward us.
And then what? I'm gonna need some... some kind of assurance.
I assure you I could kill you from way over here if it makes you feel any better.
[Walt walks over to the car that has shown up. Mike gets out and approaches Walt]
Walter. You’ve been busy. You wanna put your arms out to your sides for me, if you would?
[Walt does as he’s told, standing as Mike gives him a pat-down]
You know I haven’t slept since Thursday? I was out all night cleaning up after you. I need my sleep.
You said no half measures.
Yeah? About that, it's funny how words can be so open to interpretation. Tsk. [leads Walter towards the car] You get your car fixed?
Not yet.
You’re gonna wanna get your car fixed.
Let’s see how this goes first.
[Gus and Victor emerge from the Suburban]
Has your condition worsened?
Excuse me?
Your medical condition, has it grown worse?
Not that I know of, no.
Is there a ringing in your ears? Are you seeing bright lights or hearing voices?
I'm quite well, thank you.
No. Clearly you are not. No rational person would do as you have done. Explain yourself.
My partner was about to get himself shot. I intervened.
Some worthless junkie. For him, you intervened and put us all at risk? Some contemptible junkie who couldn't keep the peace for eight hours?
That's right, he couldn't. He was angry because those two dealers of yours had just murdered an 11-year old boy.
I heard about it. He should have let me take care of it.
Maybe. Then again maybe he thought it was you who gave the order.
[acting offended] Are you asking me if I ordered the murder of a child?
I would never ask you that.
Where is Pinkman now?
I wouldn't know. Couple of time zones away at least. Beyond that, I'd only be guessing. He has enough money to last forever. He knows he has to keep moving. You'll never find him.
I don't know, Walt. It's what I do after all.
He's out of the picture. I saved his life, I owed him that, but now he and I are done, which is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? You've always struck me as a very pragmatic man, so if I may, I would like to review options with you, of which, it seems to me, you have two. Option A: You kill me right here and now. Apparently I have made that very easy for you. You can kill me, no witnesses, and then spend the next few weeks or months tracking down Jesse Pinkman and you kill him, too. A pointless exercise, it seems to me, but that is option A.
What is option B?
I continue cooking. You and I both forget about Pinkman. We forget this ever happened. We consider this a lone hiccup in an otherwise long and fruitful business arrangement. I prefer option B.
You’d need a new assistant.
[nods] I could get right on that.
No. This time, I choose.
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