Full Measure

INT. WHITE HOUSE - LIVING ROOM

We slowly turn right, leaving the fireplace as we take a tour around the completely empty room. But as we finish clocking around 270 degrees, we find a man in a dark suit, facing the front door with a small notebook in his hands.

KNOCK-KNOCK! The man closes his notebook and opens the front door.

REALTOR: Well, hello again.

A much younger Skyler and Walt make their way into the house.

SKYLER: Hi, I hope we’re not too late.

REALTOR: No, no. Perfect timing.

SKYLER: Okay. Stan, this is my husband Walt.

WALT: Hi.

REALTOR: Good to meet you, Walt.

WALT: Nice to meet you.

Walt and the realtor shake hands

REALTOR: Sandia Laboratories, huh?

WALT: Yeah.

REALTOR: I hear some pretty fascinating stuff goes on out there.

WALT: Yeah, well, you know...

REALTOR: Working on anything you can talk about? I’m picturing giant space lasers. Am I right?

WALT: what I do would bore you senseless. Giant space lasers? Now that sounds cool. I’ll have to bring it up at our next staff meeting.

REALTOR: Well, just remember I get a cut!

WALT: Alright. It’s a deal.

Everybody laughs. Walt glances around the living room.

SKYLER: So... this is it, honey. Whaddya say? Do you wanna take a tour

WALT: Sure.

REALTOR: Uh, look. How about, uh, I give ya’ll some privacy? I’ll, uh, go out to the car, make a few calls, and uh... take as much time as you need.

SKYLER: Okay, thanks.

The man exits the house, leaving them alone.

SKYLER: He’s actually a nice guy. He doesn’t push.

WALT: Yeah.

Skyler leads Walt on a tour around the house.

SKYLER: So, as you can see, there’s a kinda flow going on here. It’s a nice big living room. And this is the dining area.

WALT: Ah, the dining “area.” Right.

Skyler pulls aside a sheer drape revealing the backyard so Walt can glance out the patio door.

SKYLER: Oh, and uh... it’s got a pool...

WALT: Pool is nice. Backyard could be a little bigger.

SKYLER: And oh, there’s uh, a breakfast bar kinda dealie here, which is nice. And um, the kitchen’s really spacious, and you know... got good appliances.

INT. WHITE HOUSE - HALLWAY

Skyler and Walt start to tour the back of the house

WALT: How many bedrooms?

SKYLER: Three. Told you. They’re all pretty good size. Oh, and this is the first one here. And there’s-there’s two more at the back.

WALT: Only three bedrooms? I think we’re gonna need at least five, don't you think?

SKYLER: Five? What, do I look like I’m about to drop a litter?

WALT: No-no-no-no-no. We’ll have three kids total, eventually. You know, but well need a spare room for a study so that I can work at home and you can write. Yeah, nah. I don’t think this is gonna be enough.

SKYLER: Okay, um, about a wine cellar? I mean, we certainly cannot be expected to live without a wine cellar.

WALT: Very funny. I just think we need to set our sights high is all. At least higher then here.

SKYLER: Walt, this is a good neighborhood. It’s got a good elementary, and supposedly a very good high school. And believe me, cause I have definitely looked everywhere - for our price range, this is as good as it gets.

WALT: Well, then, let’s stretch our price range. Truly. I mean why buy a starter house when we’ll have to move out of in a year or two.

SKYLER: Did you win the lottery and not tell me?

WALT: I’m serious. Come on.... why be cautious? We’ve got nowhere to go but up.

INT. AZTEK

Walt waits out here alone keeping his eyes peeled, scanning the area as he makes sure no one sneaks up on him. A black car drifts into view, creeping along the horizon. It heads our way for awhile, but it comes to a stop keeping its distance.

RING-RING! Walt’s cell phone startles us. He answers it putting the phone to his right ear.

WALT: Yeah.

MIKE: Walter, you see us?

WALT: Yeah. I see you.

MIKE: I’d like you to exit your vehicle and start walking toward us.

WALT: And then what? I’m gonna need some... some kind of assurance.

MIKE: I assure you I could kill you from way over here, if it makes you feel any better.

Walt closes his phone and then climbs out of the Aztek.

EXT. GRASSLANDS

Walt starts walking... and walking towards the vehicle, which is still a black dot on the horizon. In the distance, a figure climbs out of the vehicle, and makes there way toward us.

MIKE: 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.

MIKE: You know I haven’t slept since Thursday? I was out all night cleaning up after you. I need my sleep.

WALT: You said no half measures.

MIKE: Yeah? Funny how words can be so open to interpretation.

The two of them head for the vehicle, walking side-by-side.

MIKE: You get your car fixed?

WALT: Not yet.

MIKE: You’re gonna wanna get your car fixed.

WALT: Let’s see how this goes first.

EXT. SUBURBAN

Victor climbs out from the driver’s seat, standing beside the hood as he waits. Gus then emerges from the vehicle, making his toward Walt, not looking happy. They both stand motionless. Silence.

GUS: Has your condition worsened?

WALT: Excuse me?

GUS: Your medical condition. Has it grown worse?

WALT: Not that I know of, no.

GUS: Is there a ringing in your ears? Are you seeing bright lights, or hearing voices?

WALT: I’m quite well, thank you.

GUS: No, clearly you’re not. No rational person would do as you have done. Explain yourself.

WALT: My partner was about to get himself shot. I intervened.

GUS: Some worthless junkie. For him, you intervene and put us all at risk. Some contemptible junkie who couldn’t keep the peace for eight hours.

WALT: That’s right. He couldn’t. He was angry because those two dealers of yours had just murdered an eleven year-old boy.

GUS: I heard about it. He should have let me take care of them.

WALT: Maybe. Then again, maybe he thought it was you who gave the order.

GUS: Are you asking me if I ordered the murder of a child?

WALT: I would never ask you that.

GUS: Where is Pinkman now?

WALT: I wouldn’t know.

WALT: A couple of time zones away, at least. Beyond that, I’d only be guessing. He has enough money to last forever, and he knows to keep moving. You’ll never find him.

MIKE: I dunno, Walt. It’s what I do, after all.

Walt glances at Mike, and then looks back to Gus.

WALT: 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?

Gus sighs and stares off into the distance.

WALT: 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.

GUS: What is Option B?

WALT: 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.

GUS: You’d need a new assistant.

Walt nods.

WALT: I could get right on that.

GUS: No. This time I choose.

Walt nods again. Finished with Walt, Gus turns and heads back to the vehicle. Victor does the same, climbing behind the wheel. Once Walt realizes he’s been dismissed, he turns, and starts his long walk back to his Aztek.

MIKE: Your car. Get it fixed.

WALT: Yeah.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL LAUNDRY

Walt’s Aztek drives toward us, the grille in frame, as we note that damage from the hit-and-run had been repaired.

Walt reverses into his usual spot, cuts the engine and climbs out. He pauses to look at what’s parked beside him before heading for the laundry.

INT. LAB

Walt takes his key from his pocket and tries to unlock the door, but it doesn’t seem to work anymore. Victor then comes into view and opens the door for him. Walt steps past Victor onto the catwalk and makes his way down the spiral staircase.

Walt crosses the floor of the lab toward a man who stands waiting.

WALT: It’s good to see you.

The camera turns to Reveal Gale Boetticher, who shakes Walt’s hand.

GALE: Thanks. It’s good to be back. Well, Shall we?

WALT: By all means, Gale. Let’s cook

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET

A Buick pulls past us into frame and parks.

MIKE: What about that rhinoceros? You think he’d make a good pet?

GRANDDAUGHTER: No!

MIKE: No? Don’t you think if you called to him, he’d come running for his supper? I’ll bet he would.

INT. BUICK

MIKE: I’ll bet he’d come running - BOOM, BOOM, BOOM.

GRANDDAUGHTER: You’re silly Pop-Pop.

MIKE: Well... a little. But he’d probably knock everything over. Plus, there’s that big nose of his.

GRANDDAUGHTER: That’s not a nose, that’s a horn.

MIKE: Is that so?

GRANDDAUGHTER: His real nose is little.

MIKE: Huh. I learn all kinds of things being with you.

EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET

Mike opens the backseat door of the Buick and pulls out a few balloons, which he hands to his granddaughter, who stands by.

MIKE: Okay, Junebug, these are for you?

GRANDDAUGHTER: What about the rest?

MIKE: The rest are for me.

GRANDDAUGHTER: No, they’re not. You’re too old for balloons.

MIKE: Oh, you’re never too old for balloons.

MIKE: Give me a hug. I see your Mom. Don’t keep her waiting.

GRANDDAUGHTER: Bye, Pop-Pop!

MIKE: Bye, baby.

The girl headed up the walkway of a nearby house. To a woman who was standing waiting on the porch. She waves to Mike, who waves back. Mike heads round to his driver’s door, climbing back in, starting the engine and driving away.

EXT. WAREHOUSE

Mike stands by his Buick, watching the warehouse from the cover of darkness. No one is in sight. He opens the back door of his car and gathers all those balloons and wanders toward the power pole that feeds the building. We cut to a different angle and watch Mike let go of his balloons, which float straight up until they envelop the power lines.

INT. WAREHOUSE - BACK ROOM

A flatscreen monitor which is split by four live security camera views of the outside of the building goes dead as we plunge into darkness.

FIRST MEXICAN MAN: What do you think? (in Spanish)

SECOND MEXICAN MAN: Only one way to find out. (in Spanish)

Both of them head for the front of the building, armed with handguns.

EXT. WAREHOUSE

The faces of the two Mexican men appear in the window on the door and ease it open. First one man, then the other, step outside, scanning the area for trouble. But they don't see what's hidden just around the corner of the building, and after hearing a faint snap sound, the Mexicans freeze.

SECOND MEXICAN MAN: What was that? (in Spanish)

Mike instantly steps around the corner and shoots the nearest Mexican point-blank through the head. The bullet continues into the second man, who was standing on top the steps, and it even passes through him, shattering the window in the warehouse door behind him.

INT. WAREHOUSE - FRONT ROOM

Mike makes his way across the room, hearing a sound behind a counter. He raises his gun, ready to fire, but pauses when he sees a Chinese secretary sitting on the floor. She holds up her hands, talking fast. Mike raises a finger to his lips, employing the symbol for “be quiet.”

SECRETARY: Please... please...

Mike then sits beside the secretary and takes hold of her nearest foot, taking off one of her shoes. While taking cover, Mike throws the shoe the length of the hall, drawing out a thrid Mexicans man.

THIRD MEXICAN MAN: AAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!

From the other end of the hallway, he runs at us, firing his gun wildly, passing Mike in the front office, who stands up against the wall, raising his silenced pistol and firing three bullets into him. Mike then pads down the dark hall toward the far end of the warehouse.

INT. WAREHOUSE - HALLWAY/BACK ROOM

As we travel further down the hall, a Chinese man comes into view. He sits at the front of a desk, staring at Mike wide-eyed, with his hands raised in surrender.

Mike pauses before he exits the hall. Silently pressing the muzzle of his pistol to the wall, where there is a fourth Mexican man hiding. He looks over to Chow for confirmationm, who raised his hands higher. Mike correspondingly slides his pistol higher up the wall, and glanced back over to Chow - good? Chow blinks and gives a slight nod.

BANG! Mike fires through the wall, hitting the hidden man right in the head.

MIKE: Chow. You have anything you wanna tell me?

CHOW: Thank God you’re here! They keep me prisoner!

MIKE: They keep you prisoner.

CHOW: I don’t do nothing for them ever! They try and make me, I say no! They steal my chemicals? I can’t stop them! I am businessman!

MIKE: You’re a businessman. The lady out front, Hey lady, are you still there? Ask her if she’s still there.

CHOW: Peng, are you still there?

She responds in Chinese off-camera in length.

CHOW: She says yes.

MIKE: How’s her driving?

Chow is confused by the question.

MIKE: Driving. Is she good behind the wheel?

CHOW: Good. She’s good driver.

MIKE: Licensed? Dependable?

CHOW: She has a Camry.

MIKE: Good.

Mike abruptly raises his pistol and fires a bullet through Chow’s raised left hand.

MIKE: The trucks’ll be here first thing in the morning. I strongly recommend that you return our calls next time. So..? Have her drive you to the hospital.

Holding his hand, Chow stumbles toward the hallway...

MIKE: She’s gonna need her shoe.

Chow stumbles back and picks up the woman’s shoe with his right hand.

INT. LOS POLLOS HERMANOS - OFFICE

On the desk are four visa border crossing cards.

GUS: Where did they cross?

MIKE: Laredo, looks like. They didn’t exactly send their “A” players. But like you said, it’s cartel, alright.

GUS: Probing for weakness.

MIKE: Well. They didn’t find any.

Gus doesn’t seem so sure, sitting in silence. Mike Figured it was time to leave, but Gus glances up at him, and starts a new subject.

GUS: What about Pinkman?

MIKE: I’m making inquiries.

Mike exits the room.

INT. LAB

Walt and Gale are wearing respirators and tending to the mix/cook tank.

WALT: That’s two. Alright, let’s close it up.

Walt shuts the tank’s lid.

WALT: Alright, bring it down. Ready? Okay, we’re good

Walt looks up to Victor, who was on the catwalk reading a newspaper.

WALT: You can take your mask off now.

GALE: Does that guy ever leave..

Walt shrugs

GALE: When exactly did that start?

WALT: It’s new. We had a little drama with the person you replaced.

GALE: Sorry to hear that.

WALT: Nah, nah. it’ll fine. Things’ll continue to smooth out and... yeah. It’ll be fine.

GALE: By the way, if you’re at all worried about working with me...

WALT: No. I’m not.

GALE: whatever my shortcomings last time, I intend for things to go perfectly from here on out. So if there’s...

WALT: Gale, you’re great. Seriously.

GALE: I just, however you like things to be done, is exactly how we’re going to do them. Period. From here on out. So Please. Teach me.

WALT: Okay.

INT. GALES APARTMENT

Music is playing on a stereo, and Gale is singing along to it. But a a knock on the door turns his attention. He puts down his watering can and answers the door. Gale is surprised to find Gus once he opens the door.

GUS: Gale. It’s good to see you.

GALE: Mr. Fring. Wow, this is, uh...

GUS: I should have called first. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?

GALE: No, not at all. Please, come in!

Gus enters the house

GALE: Can I offer you something? A creme de menthe?

GUS: Oh, no, no, thank you. I’m sorry for the inconvenience

GALE: Oh, no, no. It’s no inconvenience.

GUS: I need to talk to you about something. Something rather pressing.

GUS: If push came to shove, I was wondering how soon you might be able to take over the lab yourself. You, and an assistant.

Gale thinks for a moment.

GALE: Why would... Why would push come to shove?

GUS: Has Walter ever talked to you about why he got into this particular line of work?

GALE: Uh... I guess I assumed it’s because it pays so well.

GUS: Oh, it is. But specifically, has he ever spoken to you about his health problems? I’m not surprised. He’s a very private person.

GALE: What exactly are his health problems?

GUS: He’s dying of cancer. It is why he does this. To provide for his family. Which he’s accomplished. They will never want for anything - he’s seen to that.

GALE: Oh... how long does he have?

GUS: That is very much the question. He does not want to talk about it. And every time I bring it up with him... I don’t know that he’s fully
accepted the reality of it. And, not to sound cold-blooded but I am running a business here.

GALE: No, I understand...

GUS: I have a very large investment in this. There’s so much overhead that I can’t afford to shut down. Not
even for a week. So you understand my concern. And my desire for continuity.

GALE: I do. Absolutely.

GUS: Now, I intend to keep Walter on for as long as he wants, assuming he’s physically up to it. But as he cannot or will not tell me how long
that might be. I must prepare for the worst-case scenario.

GALE: Worst-case scenario... Uh, I suppose if we had at least a few more cooks together.

GUS: You don’t think you’re ready now?

GALE: Well, he is such a, a master. There’s always more for me to learn. But I’m thinking that if we had say... one or two more cooks

Gus silently stares at Gale

GALE: One more, I guess, would do it. I suppose.

Gus pats Gale’s knee

GUS: I believe in you, Gale. I know that when the time comes, you will be ready.

INT. LAB

Both Gale and Walt are scrubbing away gunk from the inside of the tank. Gale looks distracted, glancing across at Walt, who was working on the opposite side of the tank. Eventually Walt looks up from his scrubbing to find Gale looking at him.

WALT: What’s up?

Gale shakes his head, forcing a smile, and gets back into his work. But a few moments, he changes his mind.

GALE: Walt. Is there, um...

Victor wanders into view. Standing up beside Gale, glancing down into the tank.

GALE: ...any particular trick to purging the catalyst bed?

WALT: No, it’s pretty straightforward. I’ll show you when we get there.

Gale nods, and both he and Walt return to scrubbing. Victor soon wanders off.

EXT. SAUL GOODMAN’S OFFICE

Saul is lying on the floor of his office, loosening up his spine. When a faint sound prompts him to answer his Bluetooth earpiece.

SAUL: Yeah? Tell him I’m in conference.

He clicks off his earpiece and shuts his eyes. But after a moment or two, we hear the door open and close. And an unwanted visitor makes his way toward Saul.

SAUL: Can’t you see I’m in conference?

MIKE stands over Saul

MIKE: I’m looking to find a client of yours. I was hoping you could help me out with an address.

SAUL: Which client?

MIKE: Jesse Pinkman.

SAUL: Jesse-Pinkman-In-The-Phone-Book, Jesse Pinkman? Hmm, how would one track him down, I wonder?

Mike, with the tip of his shoe, clicks the power switch on the machine.

SAUL: You’re still here?

MIKE: I’m gonna need your full attention, Saul. Jesse Pinkman. Current whereabouts. The sooner you tell me, the sooner you can get back to whatever the hell this is exactly.

SAUL: What am I, eighth-grade hall monitor? “Current whereabouts?” Let me tell you something, Mike

Saul starts to rise in protest, but Mike stops him with a warning hand.

MIKE: Whoa. You are good right there. Let’s both get comfortable.

Mike takes a chair right next to Saul, who stays on the floor.

MIKE: Now, when I say I’m looking for Pinkman, we both know why. Don’t we? And you pretending otherwise only wastes my time and serves to annoy me.

SAUL: Look, Mike... there are rules to this lawyer thing.

MIKE: Is that right?

SAUL: SAUL Yeah. “Attorney-client privilege?” I mean, that’s a big one! And that’s something I provide for you! So, if I give up Pinkman... well, then you’re gonna be asking “old Saul gives ‘em up pretty easy. What’s to keep him from giving me up?” You see? So, then, where’s the trust?

MIKE: I trust the hole in the desert I’d leave you in.

SAUL: Yeah... that’s an argument.

MIKE: Saul, don’t make me beat you till your legs don’t work. Now tell me where to find him. You know it’s the right thing.

Saul considers his options.

SAUL: I can’t tell you, Mike. Alright? If I was to tell you, well I just... I couldn’t live with myself. I’m sorry.

Mike quickly rises to his feet, ready to beat the shit out of Saul.

SAUL: But who’s to say I didn’t write the address down in my day-planner?

Saul scrambles to his feet and round his desk, looking through his scheduler.

SAUL: Or on a scratch piece of paper... somewhere. Who’s to say I didn’t write down a location? Strictly for my own professional use.

Finding it written on a notepad, Saul places the pad on his desk.

SAUL: Do NOT touch anything on my desk. I’m gonna leave the room... uh, make myself a Nescafe.

Saul leaves the office, closing the door behind him. Mike steps around the desk and opens Saul’s notepad to find the address. "Buckingham Trailer Court, Dillwyn, VA.”

EXT. STREET - WHITE CADILLAC DRIVING

SAUL: I’m just looking out for you, that’s all. I’m like a mother hen.

INT. SAUL’S CADILLAC - DRIVING

Walt sits beside Saul in the Cadillac

SAUL: Believe me, money-laundering ain’t what it used to be. God, do I miss the 80s.

WALT: You’re wasting your time - I’m buying the car wash. End of story.

SAUL: Well, one look at this place, you’re gonna fall in love.

EXT. LASER TAG

The Cadillac pulls into a deserted parking lot. Both Saul and Walt climb out, with Saul proudly presenting the place.

SAUL: Huh? Was I right? Where else you gonna find a cash-only business that’s this much fun? Unless we’re talking massage parlor, and, uh... I don’t see it! Shall we?

Saul dangles the keys

SAUL: Shall we?

Both Saul and Walt head to the front door. Victor clearly had followed them here, keeping his distance, as we see his car appear a few hundred yards away.

SAUL: You ever actually play laser tag? You know... it’s good cardio. Plus you get to shoot at kids...

INT. LASER TAG

Saul and Walt stroll through the place, flipping switches and turning on lights.

SAUL: You got your bumper cars over there down that way. Got your arcade right here - all the latest video games. Snack bar’s over there. Nothing stopping you from selling beer to the parents. That’s a whole new revenue stream...

WALT: Alright, alright, alright already. We’re-we’re good.

SAUL: Holy Christ.

Saul stops dead, and catches his breath

SAUL: “We’re GOOD?” This constitutes “good” where you’re from? My car is bugged.

WALT: I said maybe. Maybe bugged.

SAUL: I’m being followed?! What the hell have you gotten me into? I got my very own PI threatening to break my legs! That’s like Thomas Magnum threatening, that, that Little prissy guy with the mustache. Over and above. Service-wise, this is over and above. You and I survive this? Oh, I’m seriously rethinking my pricing. Yeah. And that goes double for you, HipHop!

Saul points at Jesse, who steps into view from out of the darkness.

SAUL: My guy’s no dummy, right? So, I give us maybe twenty-four hours before he figures out that address goes nowhere. You guys do your thing, make it snappy. I’ll go... see if they have Tetris or something.

Saul wanders off toward the arcade, leaving Walt and Jesse alone.

WALT: How you holding up?

Jesse shrugs

JESSE: You..?

WALT: I got my old job back. At least, until they kill me, and Gale takes over.

JESSE: So, he’s their boy, huh?

WALT: He’s their boy.

JESSE: How long you think you’ve got?

WALT: Well, he asks a lot of questions about the cooking process. I try to be as vague as possible, but I’ve got that guy Victor watching me, listening to every word I say... You know it may be that the only thing saving me is Gale’s fastidiousness. Once he feels confident that he knows my entire method...

Silence. Walt makes a gesture - that’s when they kill me.

JESSE: So, what do we do?

WALT: You know what we do.

Jesse starts shaking his head.

JESSE: There’s got to be some other way. Maybe it’s better for you to just go to the cops, alright? I mean, I can’t believe I’m saying that and all. But for your family? I mean, the DEA would love you - all the shit you could tell them? Federal witness protection, that’s a good deal. As for me? I’ll hit the road, yo. I’ll make it. We had a, we had a good run. But it’s over.

WALT: Never the DEA. The cook can’t stop. That’s the one thing I’m certain of - production cannot stop. Gus can’t afford to. So, if I’m the only chemist that he’s got... then I’ve got leverage. And leverage keeps me alive. It keeps you alive, too. I think I can see to that. IF I’m the only chemist that he’s got.

JESSE: I can’t do it, Mr. White. Like you said, I’m-I’m not a... I can’t do it.

WALT: I’ll do it. I’m gonna need your help. I mean, they’re watching me day and night. They never leave me alone with Gale, not for a moment. Hell, I don’t even know where the man lives. He’s not in the phone book, I can’t find him on the Internet. I can’t do it in the lab. Victor’s always there. But if I could just shake Victor, for even an hour one night, I think then that I may be able to make it look like an accident.

JESSE: There’s got to be some other way.

WALT: I’m all ears. But when it comes down to you and me versus him? I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, but it’s gonna be him. And you are the only edge that I’ve got, as long as they don’t know that you’re in town. But I need you to track him. Get me his address. And I’ll do the rest. Look, I saved your life, Jesse. Are you gonna save mine?

INT. WHITE HOUSE - LIVING ROOM

The exact shot which opened the episode. Except this time the house is not empty, and we see Skyler preparing dinner. We continue to make our way around the room until we find Walt seated on the sofa, with Holly in his arms. Walt's cell phone starts to vibrates, and he digs it from his pocket, checking who's calling.

INT. WHITE HOUSE - BATHROOM

Walt makes his way into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and calling back, who called him before.

JESSE: Yeah.

WALT: Please tell me you found him.

JESSE: Sixty-three fifty-three Juan Tabo Boulevard. Apartment six.

Walt stands in silence for a few moments

JESSE: You there..?

WALT: Yeah. Sixty-three fifty-three Juan Tabo, number six. Got it. He’s home?

JESSE: Yep.

WALT: Anyone watching the place?

JESSE: No. Looks pretty much wide-open. When you gonna do it?

WALT: Tonight. Once it gets dark.

More silence. Walt’s body language suggesting he had a heavy weight on his shoulders.

JESSE: Don’t do this, Mr. White. Please? Go to the cops.

Walt lowers the phone from his ear, folding it closed.

EXT. WHITE HOUSE

Walt exits out the front door into the night. But just as he was going to unlock his car Victor pulls up, blocking the bottom of the driveway.

VICTOR: We got a problem. There’s some kinda chemical leaking in your lab. You gotta come with me.

Caught off-guard, Walt struggles to find a way out.

WALT: I’ll, uh... I’ll follow you.

VICTOR: They tell me to bring you, I bring you. come on, get in the car.

Walt does as he’s told and climbs into the front seat beside Victor.

INT. INDUSTRIAL LAUNDRY

A steel truck frame, slowly rolls upward revealing Victor and Walt, standing outside. Walt looks to Victor, who motions - you first. Walt enters, walking toward the back of the building and Victor follows close.

MIKE: I don’t know if it’s a barrel leak or what but you got something mighty stinky down there. After you.

Walt stares behind the enormous machine. He’s frozen

MIKE: Walter. The sooner you figure out what this is, the sooner we all go home.

Walt starts to beg for his life

WALT: Please don’t do this. Mike..? You don’t have to do this.

MIKE: Yeah, unfortunately, I do, Walter. Downstairs.

WALT: I’ll cook, I’ll cook for free! And there won’t be any more trouble! I promise you. If I could just talk to Gus, I know I can make him understand! Please! If I can talk to Gus, I can convince him...

MIKE: No... no...

WALT: Just let me, please. Please?! Please let me talk to him!

MIKE: Shut up. Shut up. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.

WALT: I’ll give you Jesse Pinkman. Okay? Like you said, he’s the problem! He’s ALWAYS been the problem! Without him, we would And he’s-he’s in TOWN, alright?! He’s not in Virginia or wherever the hell you’re looking for him - he’s right here in Albuquerque! And I can take you to him! I’ll take you RIGHT TO him! Huh? What do you say..?

MIKE: Where is he right now? You give me an address.

WALT: I don’t... He moves, he moves around. But if you let me call him. No, no... please. I just, my phone, it’s just my phone. I’ll call him and have him meet me. Alright? Okay? Okay?

Walt slowly, reaches in his jacket pocket for his cell phone. He holds it up to Mike, desperate for him to say yes.

INT. LASER TAG

Jesse has his back against the wall, in the laser tag snack bar. Jesse raises a glass pipe to his lips ready to heat it with a lighter. But suddenly His phone vibrates. and he reaches for the it. Hoping to hear news from Walt.

JESSE: Did you do it..? Mr. White? Did you do it?

INT. INDUSTRIAL LAUNDRY

Walt holds his cell phone to his ear, with Mike and Victor standing by his side listening to the call.

WALT: No. I didn’t do it. I can’t now. It’s gonna have to be you.

JESSE: What? No WAY, man!

WALT: Listen to me. You’re closer than we are. You’ll have about a twenty minute lead. They’ve got me at the laundry and they’re gonna kill me. Jesse, do
it now! Do it fast. Do it, Jesse. Do it!

VICTOR: Son of a BITCH!

Mike grabs up the phone off Walt, while Victor yanks him aside.

Back at the laser tag, Jesse gets to his feet, grabs his pistol and sprints from sight.

Mike hangs up Walt’s phone, and pockets it. He turns to Walt, who stands his ground.

MIKE: Now, just what the hell was that, exactly?

WALT: You might wanna hold off.

Mike cocks back his pistol, ready to shoot Walt...

MIKE: Yeah? Why?

WALT: Because your boss is gonna need me. Sixty-three fifty-three Juan Tabo, apartment six.

Mike and Victor, glance to one another uneasily.

WALT: Yeah.

Immediately, Victor is running for the door. While Mike with his free hand fumbles for his own phone, speed-dialing someone.

INT. GALES APARTMENT

Gale's cell phone vibrates, but the music that's plays on Gale’s stereo is masking the phone’s sound. A tea kettle whistles on the stove. and hand comes into frame, pouring hot water into a mug. Gale is here alone, enjoying his night.

A loud KNOCK at the door cuts through the music. Wondering who this could be, Gale wanders through the living room, cutting off the stereo along the way. Gale opens his door to find Jesse, who stands Breathless and wide-eyed.

GALE: Hi. How can I help you?

Jesse raises his gun at Gale

GALE: Oh, oh um

Gale’s hands go up, as he gingerly backs off, not making any sudden moves.

Jesse steps into the apartment, closing the gap between them.

GALE: Take whatever you want. I have money, I’ve got a lot of money...I have, um...

Jesse pistol hand begins to tremble, his hands now shaking, but his eyes never leave Gale.

GALE: Please don’t do this. You don’t, you... you, you don’t have to do this.

BANG! Jesse pulls the trigger.