All of this started in 2010, when I ran away from Jeff's house as fast as I could while my partner Marion stayed in touch with her Life Alert operator. As I was running away, something strange happened: I was able to read the license plate number of the car that was leaving. What a stroke of luck, right?
When I got home, I quickly saw that the problem was getting worse. The police radio channel was being used to talk about my car, and before I knew it, a cop car was outside. In a panic, I snuck out of the car through the back window, holding a shoebox and a fake phone. I had to hide in a trash can because the area was so crowded with cops. There, I found Ed Galbraith's business card in my shoebox, and I made sure to remember the key line.
Fate had a strange sense of humor, as if things couldn't get any stranger. As I tried to open the phone's box, I made a terrible mistake and spilled the contents of the shoebox. When the police caught me in the act, I had no choice but to give up at gunpoint.
My life took another turn I didn't expect. As I sit in a waiting cell and think about my situation, I see some police officers watching one of those famous Saul Goodman ads on a computer. Yes, they did know who I was. I took advantage of the situation and called the Cinnabon to tell one of my workers that we needed a new manager. You know, you've got to keep things running smoothly.
As I paced back and forth in that small cell, my anger got the best of me, and I punched the door, hurting my hand. But what happened next made me laugh out loud. I saw a piece of writing on the wall that said, “MY LAWYR WILL REAM UR ASS.” I couldn't help but start laughing out loud.
As I was being led down a hall, guess who I saw in a room next to mine? Marie Schrader, of course. Something about seeing her made me want to invite her to the meeting, and I couldn't stop myself. After some back and forth, I was able to get the people in charge to let Marie in. What happened next was intense. Marie spoke strongly about her late husband Hank and his partner Steven Gomez, blaming the notorious Walter White for their deaths. I, on the other hand, tried to make myself look like a victim by telling how Walt pushed Jesse Pinkman and me to kidnap me. It was a battle of words, and no one was really fooled, but I told the lead prosecutor of the power of a single juror's belief. Marie told us not to make a deal, leaving us at a fork in the road.
The talks about a plea deal went on late into the night, and I saw a chance to cut my sentence even more. I teased the idea of telling the truth about who killed Howard Hamlin with a smug smile. But life has a way of throwing curveballs. To my dismay, Kim had already told the truth, giving me no power. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and Oakley had no choice but to finish the plea deal while I sat there speechless.
I started to think about Kim. I couldn't help but wonder what would happen to her now that she had told everyone that Howard had been killed. Oakley, who always has news, told me that Howard's widow planned to sue her in civil court to take everything she had, even though it was unlikely that she would be charged with a crime. It was a thought to make you think. But then I had a quick thought that made me realize I had more to say about the murder when we got to New Mexico.
In Titusville, Florida, Kim was having trouble finding her feet. It was hard for her to get back to her daily routine at Palm Coast Sprinkler. Clearly, something had changed. She eventually left work early and went to a legal aid office, where she told them she wanted to help out. Late at night, as she was working hard to put files in order in the filing drawers, her phone rang. It was ADA Suzanne Ericsen from Albuquerque sending a friendly message. When she told her about my capture and how it might affect Kim, she was completely shocked.
Imagine me wearing a nice suit and going into a courtroom in Albuquerque for my sentencing hearing. With Oakley, Marie, Blanca Gomez, and Kim all there, the mood was tense. As the prosecutor justified the plea deal, I couldn't help but want to say something to the judge. In a moment of honesty and openness, I told Walt that I wasn't just a victim of his drug business, but that I was an important part of it. Emotions were running high as I praised Kim for starting over after Howard's death, took responsibility for my brother Chuck's sad death, and, for the first time in years, called myself “James McGill.” As Oakley and the prosecution team fought hard, the courtroom turned into a mess.
The night before the first thing that happened. I have to take Chuck's groceries to his house. He shows a real interest in my new solo business and agrees with me that everyone deserves a fair legal defense, even people I don't like. It was a chance to make a change, but I misunderstood what he meant and didn't take it. When I left, Chuck went into his study with a gas lantern and a copy of The Time Machine by H.G. Wells to find comfort.
Coming back to the present, In 2010, I was taken by bus to ADX Montrose, where I sat with other prisoners. At first, they threatened me, but they soon realized that I was Saul Goodman from “Better Call Saul.” Even though I said I was James McGill, the chant of “Better Call Saul” filled the air, which both confused and surprised me.
When a lawyer goes to the jail kitchen, who does he find there? Kim herself. Because she has a legal New Mexico bar card, she can see me as a lawyer. We share a cigarette while resting against the wall. It's a touching moment that makes me think of our past talks. Then I had to face the harsh truth: my plea deal had been thrown out, and I was given a sentence of 86 years, which I couldn't even imagine. As Kim leaves the jail, I watch her from the exercise yard. We both have longing in our eyes. As a final gesture, I make a gun-pointing motion, which is a silent way for me to remember the link we once had. And with that, Kim walks around the corner, leaving me alone behind these cold barbed-wire walls to deal with the results of my choices.