With the prospect of $4,000 coming in soon, Jimmy abandoned the idea of finding a regular job. Even when CC Communications called bright and early, he rubbed his bleary eyes and politely declined the shift manager position. Kim, however, was different—she packed her briefcase and got ready to head out early. But she couldn’t help worrying about Jimmy; the more relaxed he seemed, the more anxious she grew. Having specifically tracked down a reputable therapist, Kim handed Jimmy the phone number. To put her mind at ease, Jimmy reluctantly called CC Communications back and accepted the shift manager job.
Despite the title "manager," the role essentially involved selling cell phones to customers in the store. If he kept his head down and worked diligently, in ten months—when his suspension expired—Jimmy would get his law license back. He spent the entire morning at the shop without a single customer. Bored out of his mind, Jimmy passed the time bouncing a stress ball. Finally, when his lunch break rolled around, he drove to a steel mill.
The thief who’d stolen the ceramic figurine worked as a vending machine restocker during the day. He pulled out a thick stack of cash and handed it to Jimmy before continuing to stock cans of Fanta into the machine. The figurine had caused a stir at the collectors’ expo, with buyers competing fiercely to bid on it—so the money they made was far more than the planned $8,000. Instead of pocketing the extra, he split the total evenly with Jimmy, down to the last cent. Jimmy was somewhat touched; it was rare to meet someone with honor even among criminals these days.
And the thief’s integrity didn’t stop with Jimmy. He made it clear that if Jimmy ever had another easy job like this in the future, he’d have to go through the vet—no direct contact allowed. After all, no one knew who might be under surveillance; safety always came first. That comment sparked an idea in Jimmy. On his way back, he picked up a few buckets of paint and scrawled a bold sign on the shop’s deserted storefront window: "PRIVACY FOR SALE."
On the other side of the border, however, things were anything but quiet. The Salamancas wouldn’t let themselves be pushed around without fighting back. They tracked down their prime suspects—the Espinoza drug cartel—and opened fire without hesitation. Nacho, still recovering from his injuries and barely able to move, was dragged into the bloodbath. After taking just a few steps, blood seeped through his wound. Yet his seemingly vulnerable state only earned him more trust from the Salamanca brothers. This was exactly the opportunity Gustavo had been waiting for: as the Salamanca brothers fled south to lie low, he seized the chance to take over the Espinozas’ territory.
Mike, meanwhile, continued his work as a security consultant. The supervisors at Madrigal Electromotive were starting to fear the stern, meticulous old man. Just the night before, he’d exposed a con artist at Stacey’s support group who’d been making up stories to manipulate sympathy. Mike had a knack for spotting inconsistencies in details—unmasking frauds was child’s play for him, and identifying hidden risks in work processes was just as easy.
Late in the evening, Mike received a call from Gustavo requesting a meeting. As soon as he arrived at the designated location, he was surrounded by several burly men. It turned out Gustavo already knew about his dealings with Nacho. But knowing Gustavo’s modus operandi, Mike realized he wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if he’d just wanted to kill him. When the men hesitated to make a move, Mike figured it out immediately: Gustavo needed a favor from him.