"We're not discussing a mere bar trick here, Jimmy argues with Kim, who is determined to outdo Howard in her campaign of terror, sabotaging his entire livelihood. 'We're talking about a scorched earth policy,' she insists, but her mind is already made up. She has had enough of watching men like Howard, Lalo, and Kevin accumulate their fortunes on the backs of those less fortunate or those who stand in their way. The higher-ups at Sandpiper, who have been holding out on settling with their elderly residents, letting the clock run out on Mrs. Landry and her cohort's lives while their due recompense languishes in legal escrow, only add to her disdain.
Enough is enough, Kim decides. Let's frame Howard for serious misappropriation of funds or perhaps witness tampering, forcing Cliff at Davis & Main - who were working on the case with HHM - to scramble for those settlement dollars and put an end to it all. That way, all the lawyers, including Jimmy and Kim (now eligible for her cut after quitting Schweikart & Cokely) get paid, and her pro bono dreams can become a reality. Plus, the old ladies receive virtually every cent on their dollar, and the only real casualty is Howard's "career setback," as Kim concludes. Viva la revolución!
Jimmy, ever the people-reader, can't fathom her cruel intentions. All he can do is polish off his bowl of ice cream, with all its toppings, and sit in awe as she shoots a pair of air pistols, flashes him a grin, and sets about another day of doggedly defending felonious pro bono cases that have been passed over by the very same corporate attorneys billing hours for burning time.
The problem, and what neither Jimmy nor Kim know yet, is that Lalo is headed back north to make the scorched earth look like divine intervention. It's not a surprise that he survived Gus's assassination attempt. To return to that now-seminal Breaking Bad scene where Saul speaks of Lalo and Nacho, it's presumed that Lalo is still alive and calling the shots when Saul first encounters Jesse Pinkman and Walter White. Whether Nacho, or "Ignacio," as Saul cries out, is doing just fine or lies six feet deep remains unknown. As Vince Gilligan, Peter Gould (who co-scripted this finale with Ariel Levine), and the writers reverse-engineer that once-inconsequential plea, it has become a key to unlock BCS's forthcoming revelations, one they've been rotating slowly for maximum tension. Or perhaps it's more accurate to suggest they use it as a socket wrench, ratcheting our nerves with a steadiness comparable to Lalo wielding his tool kit under the hood of one of his vintage rides."
The scene between him and Nacho by the garage serves as a harbinger of Lalo's mechanical prowess in dispatching the assassins sent to take him out, aided by Nacho's leaving the back gate ajar at 3 a.m. (Every second is crucial, isn't it?) But it's also one of several moments in "Something Unforgivable" that plays with our expectations, as well as Nacho's, of what Lalo is capable of. (No wonder he and Kim are so evenly matched.) One minute he's all smiles as he embraces his grounds crew and the kind cook Yolanda, and the next he's scolding young security man Ciro for not rushing to unload his luggage. Then he banters with Don Eladio over cars and cash (and boy, does Steven Bauer embrace the direction to revel in his tacky machismo this time), but he's right there in Nacho's peripheral vision, staring with intent as his protégé tries to win over their volatile boss.
Later, on a patio in Chihuahua, Lalo is lulled into camaraderie over drinks with Nacho, not even suspecting anything other than Ciro's incompetence when smoke billows from inside his kitchen. But once he locks eyes with a sniper's sights, he doesn't flinch to use Ciro as a human shield and quickly employs every weapon within reach—notably the frying pan boiling with hot grease—to murder every last one of Gus's masked men, only after ensuring a decoy message is sent that the task was messy but complete.
Limping and livid, Lalo embarks on a journey not unlike what Jimmy and Mike experienced after being ambushed for Lalo's bond money—only he's left no survivors to slow him down and is one step ahead of the rivals and middlemen (that would be Nacho) who've set him up to die. He couldn't turn to Eladio and Bolsa if he wanted to; they'd hang him where he stood for getting suckered by Nacho and letting him slip under the cover of night. It's doubtful Lalo would seek their counsel anyway; they are to him what Howard and Cliff are to Kim: witless, undeserving overlords whom he's done kicking up to. But grand aspirations, whether Lalo's or Kim's, will have to wait. It's almost dawn, and there's hell to pay.
