Better Call Saul S6E4: “Hit and Run” Lets Us Breathe

The following article contains spoilers for Better Call Saul S6E4 (“Hit and Run”), written by Ann Cherkis and directed by Rhea Seehorn.

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After the stress and jaw-dropping final moments of last week’s episode (“Rock and Hard Place”), we get a bit of a respite with “Hit and Run” (which also happens to be Rhea Seehorn’s television directorial debut). Where “Rock and Hard Place” was mainly focused on the cartel side of things, this week we move back to Jimmy and Kim as they move forward with their Hamlin scam. The stakes are still high, of course, but this week’s episode is far less intense and allows us to focus on the headspace of the characters as we move toward the back half of the series. 

This week’s cold open sets a very happy-go-lucky tone, but shows us that there is always something sinister lurking beneath the surface. A couple, Mr. and Mrs. Ryman, take a nice bike ride through their beautiful suburban neighborhood, stopping along the way to point out an eyesore of a house (which the owners have so audaciously decided to paint a bloody shade of red). The banter between the couple is amusing to anyone who has lived in the suburbs—especially those familiar with HOAs—because it’s one of those neighborhoods where everyone is in everyone else’s business about what color their house is or what their landscaping looks like. Your business becomes everyone else’s, which is why it’s so interesting that this is the neighborhood where Gus Fring chooses to live.

But it’s not all that surprising, really, because Gus has worked hard to project that sort of nothing-to-see-here persona. To the outside world, he is a hardworking, successful business owner and philanthropist. He would want to be seen living in a nice part of town in a neighborhood which is meticulously cared for policed by those who live there—his own fastidiousness reflected in the place he chooses to call home. Of course, when it comes to Gus, nothing is as it seems, and if anyone knew what he was hiding, his presence would be far more disconcerting than a bright red house.

So when we see Mr. and Mrs. Ryman return home and learn that their house (which is next door to Gus’s) is actually a hub for Fring’s surveillance team, it makes perfect sense. They are unbothered by the armed men traipsing through their home, and we just sort of accept it much as they do. I do have a lot of questions about who the Rymans really are and how they got involved with Gus, but regardless they play their role perfectly—just a typical neighborhood couple hiding in plain sight while they aid and abet Albuquerque’s biggest criminal mastermind.

Meanwhile, Phase Three of the Hamlin plan is underway. Jimmy and Kim have decided that Howard’s therapy session is the opportune time to boost his Jaguar. We follow Howard into his therapy session, and while we don’t get a lot out of him (and neither does the doctor), it’s worth noting a few things. First of all, Howard Hamlin is married. I don’t know how I never noticed that he wears a wedding ring (and I went back to Season 1 and checked—he does), and it shouldn’t surprise me that a guy like Howard is married, but for some reason it does. Perhaps it’s because we have never once heard him mention his wife, not even in passing. The guy is a workaholic and we do see him mostly through that lens, but the fact that we are given just the tiniest glimpse into his life outside HHM and his relationship to Jimmy, Chuck, and Kim is important to note here.

Howard initially gives his therapist nothing, and anyone who has been to therapy understands those first few awkward minutes where you’re just getting warmed up and trying to throw out anything positive you can think of that says “Hey, doc! Look! Everything is totally fine with me!” Howard being Howard, he takes this opportunity to discuss a positive business development, but his therapist isn’t letting him get away with it. “I’m not a shareholder,” he tells Howard, subtly forcing him to dig deeper. That’s when Howard opens up about the fact that his marriage is in trouble. We learn that he and his wife, Cheryl, are “deadlocked” and that she won’t talk about anything of substance despite Howard’s efforts to communicate. Howard’s usual smiling polished veneer goes out the window for a moment when he’s discussing his wife, but he doesn’t let the mask slip for long. He shifts gears to talk about some dream he had, and he’s regular Howard again.

We don’t learn much detail from Howard’s therapy session but it does serve a purpose. Just the little snippet of information about Howard’s marriage makes him more of a fleshed-out human being. He has a life outside of being Howard Hamlin, Esquire, which is something that perhaps Kim has forgotten in her quest to take him down. If she and Jimmy succeed, it may very well be the nail in the coffin of the marriage he’s trying to save in addition to whatever it might do to his career. This brief scene reminds us that there are real stakes here, that Jimmy and Kim are playing with a man’s life. Whether or not we like that man is irrelevant because, at the end of the day, Howard really doesn’t deserve a punishment on the scale of what they’ve got planned for him.

And we finally learn what that plan is when Jimmy, who never could resist a Howard Hamlin cosplay, shows up with his hair lightened, slathered in bronzer, and his finest Hamlin suit (complete with Hamlingo blue knit tie, of course). It’s a bit more subdued than the look we saw in “Hero” (S1E4) when he dressed himself up as a Hamlin clone to pull the billboard scam, but I can’t help but think about how far we’ve come since then. When Jimmy successfully pulls one over on Howard in “Hero,” it’s the first time that we see that Kim actually approves of (and is amused by) his little schemes. At that point in Season 1, we didn’t know much about Kim, but we got a little glimpse into the real Kim Wexler when she saw that Jimmy had bested Howard. It’s also interesting to note that that was a time when it was Jimmy with the vendetta against Howard and not Kim, and that all of that billboard nonsense was done so that Jimmy could practice law under his own name—something we know he no longer cares about in the slightest.

Jimmy uses the cloned key to steal Hamlin’s car and places a traffic cone in his parking spot so nothing is out of place on his return, and then he sets off to the Crossroads Motel. Last week, I speculated that we might see Wendy appear in the Better Call Saul timeline, and I was happy to be correct about that. She is the lynchpin of Phase Three, which we learn is to make Cliff Main believe that Howard is in the habit of picking up sex workers and tossing them from moving cars. It’s not the first time Jimmy has tried to make Cliff think Howard enjoys the services of ladies of the evening from time to time—we saw him send some of his clients to confront Howard at lunch in “Wexler v. Goodman” (S5E6)—so it tracks that it’s something totally outlandish and seemingly out of character for Howard, but that Cliff would believe it.

Kim also has a part to play in Phase Three; she’s meeting Cliff at a cafe so he just so happens to be there when all of this plays out in front of him. She uses the opportunity to talk to Cliff about potentially creating a team of lawyers to handle some of the hard cases—basically a group of well-respected lawyers to do what she is currently doing alone. While this is ostensibly just part of the plan to kill time while Jimmy can get in place, I think it’s more than that. Kim Wexler chooses her words and her actions very carefully (even if those words and actions have been a bit wild of late), and I don’t think that this particular topic of conversation is just filler.

And Cliff is interested in the idea because he knows that Kim is putting the work in on her own. He’s very receptive to it—so much so that Kim almost loses sight of what she’s actually there to do. With Cliff basically agreeing to help get it started, Kim is on the verge of creating something that could actually help a lot of people in a significant way—something far more important in the grand scheme of things than the Sandpiper residents getting their settlement money (even though they are absolutely owed that money and should get it sooner rather than later). Cliff is offering her a way for to do exactly the type of work she wants to be doing, completely legitimately, and still make money, and yet she’s still willing to go through with Phase Three. Of course, she probably thinks she can have it both ways—that they can get away with the Hamlin scam and she can also move forward with Cliff if that pans out—but there’s still an element of risk involved, and she’s willing to take it. As Rhea Seehorn herself says in her interview with Vanity Fair:

I think she’s fully in it, to the point where you are watching her even consciously refuse to take any subtle signs from the universe that this isn’t a great idea… her ego and her belief in this Machiavellian way of going about being a do-gooder has become outside reality…It isn’t just that the good guys need to win; she thinks people that deserve to be knocked down have to be knocked down. Which is a dangerous way to be going about life, let alone the law.

Just before Jimmy comes flying around the corner in Howard’s Jaguar, we learn one important tidbit of information about Cliff than was quite disturbing in context. He talks to Kim about the fact that his son Gregory has struggled with drug addiction and that it’s changed the way he views the legal system and its systemic problems. Kim almost certainly knows about Cliff’s son (even Cliff said that she probably already knows, so it’s obviously not something the family has kept totally private), and in light of this information, I found it troubling that she and Jimmy chose to give Howard a fake cocaine addiction as a major part of their plan.

The topic is something close to home for Cliff, and there’s something almost cruel about using that as part of their scheme. It makes sense logically, of course—Cliff having a child who suffers from addiction would make him particularly sympathetic to “addict” Howard and could possibly mitigate some of the blowback—but, like so many things Kim and Jimmy are doing these days, it’s questionable at best. And yet I can see it through Kim’s eyes, that she might have thought that it was just the thing to make sure the consequences for Howard were not as severe as they could be—that she was doing him a favor, even, by exploiting Cliff’s family’s struggle. The whole thing is appalling, really, but right now Kim is singly focused, ego-driven, and so completely convinced that she’s right that she can’t see how wrong it is.

After Jimmy’s little charade with kicking Wendy out of Howard’s car goes off without a hitch (and has the intended effect on Cliff), you can see Kim’s excitement that the plan is working. There is a brief comedic interlude featuring Bob Odenkirk showcasing some of that absurd physical comedy you love to see from him, because someone has had the gall to move the traffic cone and park in the spot Hamlin was originally in. Something about Jimmy’s absolute outrage at the fact that someone would move a cone while he’s in the midst of an absolutely outrageous scam is incredibly entertaining, as is his frantic attempt to yank a parking sign out of the ground and place it in front of Howard’s car in the hopes he won’t notice he’s parked in a different place. Jimmy manages it just in the nick of time, and Howard doesn’t notice anything is amiss, and now Phase Three is complete. There have been no hints at what Phase Four entails, but I find myself actually worried for Howard at this point. I have always been Team Kim, but I can’t rationalize her behavior anymore (much as I still love her).

The scene where Kim drops Wendy off back at the Crossroads is fascinating to me because we get to see a bit of the old Kim come through. She gives Wendy her money and tells her to be careful, knowing that her profession is wrought will all sorts of dangers. You can see that Kim has a lot of concern and sympathy for Wendy, which is interesting because she herself has literally just used this woman’s body in exchange for money—not sexually, as her clients do, but there was still potential for Wendy to come to some physical harm during the scam. Wendy sees what she thinks is an undercover cop car pull up and bemoans the fact that it will kill business for the day, and Kim offers her pro bono legal services should she ever find herself in trouble.

This is the Kim we have known from the beginning, and she is clearly struggling with her conscience here; she’s quite literally at a crossroads. One could argue that she’s already chosen the bad choice road, but really there is still time for her to turn back (especially on the heels of her conversation with Cliff at lunch). Here we see Kim struggling a bit with what they’ve just done—not to Howard or to Cliff but to Wendy. Because Wendy isn’t a camgirl or a high-end escort; she’s not the type of sex worker who has happily and actively chosen this life for herself as many people do. It’s a means to an end for her—a way to make money and take care of her son—but it’s clear she’s not living her best life doing this type of work. You don’t end up living at the Crossroads Motel if you’re thriving. It’s interesting to note that Wendy has not yet been physically ravaged by her methamphetamine use, so I wonder if at this point she is even using or if she’s only just started to self-medicate and is still a casual user. Either way, we know that she ends up a full-fledged addict and is still working out of the motel in the Breaking Bad timeline. While I’m not saying Kim could “save her” from this life, it troubles me that it took Kim actually interacting with Wendy to see her humanity.

When Kim leaves the Crossroads, the car that Wendy had pointed out to her ends up following her for a few blocks until it pulls off. This is unsettling to Kim, and after being thoroughly entertained by Jimmy’s retelling of the story of the traffic cone and his efforts to save the day (Kim always did love a good Jimmy story), she tells him that she believes she was being followed. Jimmy responds with a Bible quote—“The wicked flee when no man pursueth”—to which Kim replies, “You think we’re wicked?” Jimmy tries to play it off, doing an absolutely hilarious Boston accent and telling her she’s “wicked hawt,” but she’s still disturbed by his comment.

I think it’s worth looking at the full quote from Proverbs 28:1: “The wicked flee when no man pursueth, but the righteous are bold as a lion.” The part that Jimmy quoted basically means that those who do wrong will still be running from their own guilty conscience even when no one is pursuing them, but those who are in the right have no fear. If Kim was truly convinced that what they were doing was righteous, she wouldn’t be afraid. But she is, and as much as Jimmy tries to tell her that she’s just being paranoid because they got away with it, I think his original statement is a more accurate assessment of the situation. Of course, we know that Kim’s paranoia is actually warranted; she is being followed, it’s just not for the reason she thinks. But that doesn’t change the fact that she assumes she’s being followed because of the scam, which proves that a part of her knows it’s wrong.

Back at the courthouse, Jimmy is discovering that he has become persona non grata. The word is out that Saul Goodman is a cartel lawyer, and at every turn, he is shut down and shunned by people he used to be friendly with. Among others, we see the security guy at the front give him a hard time and the court clerk he usually charms with a smile and a Beanie Baby bribe refusing to give him the time of day. But no one has more disdain for Jimmy than ADA Bill Oakley. Their relationship has always been slightly contentious but with a playful banter, but now Bill is absolutely disgusted with Jimmy and the choices he’s made as Saul.

Bill says what everyone else is thinking: “I liked you better when you were a regular bottom feeder.” Everyone loved Jimmy when he was just a struggling, bargain-basement lawyer, and they could even accept when he moved up in the world a bit and started wheeling and dealing as Saul; they could look past all his “showmanship” and corner-cutting because deep down, everyone thought he was a good guy. But he’s beyond the pale now, and everyone knows it. Bill tells Jimmy that he took it too far with Lalo, disgraced the court and the law, and that even though he understands advocating for your client, what he did is just wrong. And he’s right, and Jimmy knows he’s right, but he digs in and feigns outrage, telling Bill to prove it. Bill replies, “there’s proving and then there’s knowing,” and I can’t help but be reminded of all the times where people around Jimmy just knew.

The most obvious example of this is Chuck and the Mesa Verde documents, but there are also countless others including the billboard scam and the time when Mike knew he would be willing to spill coffee on the detective so he could lift his notebook in “Five-O” (S1E6). Jimmy even asked Mike how he knew he would do it and Mike just scoffed at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. When it comes to Jimmy, everyone always just knew, and at this point it’s something that he should accept about himself; maybe he couldn’t see it back when he was Jimmy McGill, but it’s ludicrous to think that he can’t see that Saul Goodman is the epitome of that guy.

That day, Jimmy sits alone at lunch at the courthouse—the grown-up version of the high school loser with no friends—and, even though it’s totally understandable that these professionals wouldn’t want to associate with him knowing what they know, it’s still sad to be reminded how far Jimmy has fallen. Back in the series premiere, “Uno” (S1E1), Jimmy described himself to the skateboarding twins as a beloved figure.

In Cicero, he was the man. I mean when he strolled down the street, all the corner boys would give him the high five, all the finest babes would smile at him and hope that he would smile back. His name was Slippin’ Jimmy, and everybody wanted to be his friend.

Even as Slippin’ Jimmy, he was always the kind of guy people gravitated towards. Chuck himself even had to admit on many occasions that, despite his faults, Jimmy is a charming guy and everybody loves him. But Saul Goodman is a different story. Saul is not loveable or endearing. Saul is reprehensible and repugnant to anyone with a sense of decency, and they’re not wrong to think so. While a select few, including DA Suzanne Ericsen, may still see the Jimmy underneath Saul, the vast majority of his colleagues have completely given up on Jimmy McGill.

But while Saul Goodman is bad for his reputation in the legal community, he’s great for business. Jimmy receives a ton of calls at lunch from potential clients because the word is out on the street as well as in the courthouse: Saul Goodman is Salamanca’s guy, a criminal lawyer and he’s the guy you want if you’re a certain type of client. A still office-less Jimmy heads to the nail salon to find a furious Mrs. Nguyen. Her business is filled with potential Saul Goodman clients and she’s understandably not thrilled about that (especially when he starts giving out her precious cucumber water).

Inside the salon, we see Spooge: a familiar face from Breaking Bad, although he looks much different here. Like Wendy, he hasn’t yet started to display any signs of meth addiction. For those who need a quick reminder, Spooge appeared in the Season 2 Breaking Bad episodes “Breakage” (S2E5) and “Peekaboo” (S2E6). He and his wife, both meth addicts, ripped off Skinny Pete, and later his wife killed him by crushing his head with a stolen ATM machine (something Jesse took credit for until the wife confessed). Spooge is one of many potential clients chomping at the bit for a meeting with Saul, and when Spooge asks him, “You’re the guy, right? Salamanca’s guy?” Jimmy responds, “Yeah, that’s me.” When it comes to making money, Jimmy has no problem embracing the fact that he’s a cartel lawyer; it’s only when it affects how “decent” people view him (Kim included to some extent) that he struggles with that label. 

Kim is also office-less and working out of the El Camino restaurant, meeting with clients there and buying them meals. There’s something very tender about the fact that Kim always feeds her clients, especially the one we see in “Hit and Run”: a man named Abe struggling with alcohol addiction. After Abe has finished his plate, Kim offers him hers (which is almost full), and he pauses for a moment before accepting it. Kim can see that this man is in need of a hearty meal or two, and she doesn’t hesitate to help him or tell him he can take as long as he likes. Every time we see Kim like this with a client, it hurts just a little bit more to know that she’s straying from this path. I wouldn’t go so far as to say this is “the real Kim” because Kim Wexler contains multitudes and all the Kims we see are the real Kim, but this is the Kim that we the audience want her to be. Personally, I enjoy the Kim that is somewhere in between—the one who is willing to scam a little for the greater good but who would never let anyone get legitimately hurt in the process (no matter how much they may deserve to be taken down a peg or two).

While she is waiting for Abe to finish eating, Kim notices that the car from the Crossroads is parked across the street. She decides to confront the men—she is not wicked, she will not flee, she will be bold as the lion—and when they refuse to identify themselves, she threatens to call the police. She plays the part of the distraught white woman who uses the police as her personal security guards when she feels threatened very well—and as someone who spends all her time mired in the systemic injustice of the legal system, Kim would be more than familiar with that particular strategy.

But these men aren’t police; they are Mike’s guys. And after six seasons, Better Call Saul finally gives us a Mike/Kim scene. Mike is waiting at the counter at El Camino until Kim’s client leaves, and he approaches her very gently. The thing about Mike Ehrmantraut is that you know exactly what his intentions are depending on which voice he is using. With Kim, he is choosing a soft, delicate approach. After hearing her stand up to Lalo in “Bad Choice Road” (S5E9), Kim has earned Mike’s respect, and he has no desire to frighten her. Mike assures Kim that he doesn’t care whatsoever about her and Jimmy’s recent questionable activities (and I can’t help but think about Mike getting the report from his guys about all the wild stuff they are pulling for the scam and just rolling his eyes), but he does need her to know that Lalo Salamanca is alive and that his team is watching anyone he might contact.

The news that Lalo Salamanca is still alive visibly shakes Kim but she keeps it together, not just because she’s not one to show emotion in public but because she hasn’t quite figured out if she can trust Mike. She has no idea who he is…until she does: she knows without having to be told that Mike is the man who saved Jimmy’s life in the desert, and that puts her at ease (as much as she can be at ease when Lalo is still out there somewhere). Mike can’t answer the question of who he works for but he’s not abrasive about it, as if willing her to understand that there are things that she does not need to know and should not know for her own benefit. Then she asks him why she’s coming to her with this information, and Mike tells her, “Because I think you’re made of sterner stuff.”

It’s no surprise that Mike has far more respect for Kim than he does for Jimmy, and while I imagine he (like everyone else) is thinking to himself, “What the hell is this intelligent, highly capable woman doing married to that clown?” he doesn’t approach it in this way. He doesn’t insult Jimmy; he raises Kim up without putting Jimmy down, which is something no one else ever does. And Kim knows it’s the truth. She knows she’s been holding Jimmy together since Chuck died and again since his harrowing experience in the desert. Mike knows how Jimmy would react to the news that Lalo is alive and nowhere to be found; he was there in the desert with him and he knows that a guy lke Jimmy, who is—let’s be honest—a little soft by “doing battle with the cartel” standards, probably has PTSD from the experience. He goes to Kim because she will do the right thing and the smart thing with the information; she will know if and exactly when to tell Jimmy about it, and she’ll hold herself together in the process.

It’s such a novelty getting to see these two on-screen together and it’s also fascinating because they really are a lot alike in some ways. They are both very stoic and while they both feel emotions deeply, they very rarely express them. As Seehorn puts it to Variety, “they both have a similar reticence and kind of economy of language and gesture that makes them very hard to read. We joked for years that they should have them play poker and see who’s going to budge first, because neither of them has a tell.”

Just as Mike leaves, Kim realizes that she does recognize him as the man from the parking booth at the courthouse, and I think Mike appreciates that about her. I’m willing to bet that the vast majority of lawyers coming in and out of the courthouse couldn’t pick him out of a lineup, far too absorbed in their own lives to take notice of a man they see every single day. (Do you think Howard Hamlin would recognize him because I don’t.) And Mike was likely banking on that when he took the job, because Mike Ehrmantraut certainly doesn’t want to be noticed. But Kim is the type of person who remembers people’s names and faces. She’s observant, and I think it only reinforces Mike’s decision to come to her with the information.

After we leave Mike and Kim (and I really do need to see more of them together in coming episodes because I’d love Better Call Saul to explore that dynamic further), we briefly pop back over to Gus’s neighborhood. He arrives home and gets his mail, his face filled with friendly neighbor cheer, but the second he gets in the door, the mask falls away. Gus is still in panic mode over the Lalo situation, and you can tell that that lack of control is making him angry. There’s a rage simmering under the surface that Giancarlo Esposito plays perfectly. This is a man who likes to be the source of others’ fear, not afraid himself, but he is exactly that and we can see it in the bulletproof vest he wears under his work clothes and the ankle holster he refuses to take off even at home.

We follow Gus down into his basement and through a secret tunnel (because of course Gus Fring has a secret tunnel) which attaches to the Rymans’ house. On the way, Gus passes one of his men heading toward the Fring residence—a man dressed exactly like Gus who looks enough like him to make a passable decoy. Everything is screaming that Gus is on high alert, and Gus does what he usually does when he’s feeling stressed and out of control: he micromanages. He tells Mike that the employee/guard he placed in his restaurant is “not up to Pollos standards” which we know are incredibly high. Just remember what happened to poor assistant manager Lyle in “Namaste” (S5E4)—when Gus was upset that he had no choice but to let the DEA take his money, he took it out on poor Lyle by having absurdly high standards for how clean the fryer needed to be before close. It’s one thing to run a tight ship and expect a high level of cleanliness in the restaurant, but there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with that fryer. Gus needed to control something and someone because the big, important things were out of his hands.

And they still are. With Lalo alive and plotting his revenge, Gus is not safe. He doesn’t hold the power, which is something he hates. Mike knows this but he stresses to Gus that their resources (considerable as they are) are stretched thin, but Gus insists they keep up the surveillance and increased security because Lalo is alive. Then Mike asks the question we’ve all been asking ourselves for the past three episodes: “then where is he?” I have to think that Lalo will show up next week. He hasn’t appeared on screen since the very end of the Season 6 premiere when he called Hector to tell him he was alive and decided to stay in Mexico to look for proof of Gus’s involvement. I want him back in the story not just because I’m curious what his plan is (because Lalo always has a plan) but also because Tony Dalton’s performance is absolutely delightful. At this point, Lalo Salamanca has become my favorite BrBa/BCS villain, and I’m honestly rooting for the guy even though I know Gus wins. 

“Hit and Run” ends at a familiar location: the law office of Saul Goodman. We’ve finally reached the point in the series where Jimmy is about to set up shop in that dumpy strip mall we came to know in Breaking Bad, and Kim is incredibly unimpressed. This is not the “cathedral of justice” she’d envisioned for Saul Goodman, but at this point Kim has to be asking herself if Saul Goodman really deserves a cathedral of justice to begin with. After all, she learns from Jimmy that his rush of new clients came to him because the word is out on the street that he’s Salamanca’s guy.

Jimmy knows it’s a dump but he needs a new space pronto because Mrs. Nguyen officially kicked him out (and I don’t blame her). Kim, who was still debating whether or not to tell Jimmy the news about Lalo, decides to wait. He actually seems excited about this place (which he claims will be temporary but which, sadly, we know is not), and even though Kim gives her honest opinion (that it’s small, dirty, and smelly), she doesn’t want to be a total buzzkill so she points out the pros: close to the courthouse, bail bond row, and, of course, Taco Cabeza! In the end, Kim keeps the Lalo news to herself and supports Jimmy’s choice of this office space because she can’t bear to break his spirit just yet. Between the Hamlin scam and the influx of clients, he’s finally starting to come out of that post-desert fog and she can’t force herself to drag him back there just yet.

In the preview of next week’s episode, I was delighted to see that my girl Francesca is returning to take up her position as Saul Goodman’s secretary, and I’m excited to see how quickly she turns into the disgruntled version of herself we saw in Breaking Bad. We also see a confrontation between Cliff and Howard, which means the Hamlin scam is about to reach the point of no return. No sign of Lalo in the trailer, but I would bet money that he’s going to pop his head out. See you next week to find out!