A tractor trailer pulls up on a dusty Mexican road, greeted by a welcoming party of gentlemen clutching assault rifles. Its cargo arrives without ceremony at its terminus, a beat-up cabriole sofa. The packages—a fifty-something Dallas matron and her beautiful blonde daughter—are met by the addressee, a knife-wielding drug lord who definitely does not want to discuss his Etsy store.
So what are a couple of Good Christian Belles from Collin County doing in Tamaulipas?
Annie and Emma got caught up in the machinations of the Ryland family with the Mendez-Ochoa drug cartel, and will pay with their lives if Harris and Ma don’t step up their narcotics smuggling operation across the border. Judith, usually as cold-blooded as they come, is shaken to her core at the thought of her beloved granddaughter being in peril. When her sworn enemies the Ewings show up with their own score to settle with the cartel she is more willing to bury hatchets faster than you can say “Marvel Team-Up.” Bobby, Christopher and the rest have come for Harris’ CIA contacts to prove that Nicolas Trevino’s takeover of Ewing Global wasn’t done on the up-and-up, but the secret agent’s rep tells them that they’re on their own.
Being the paragons of Texan can-do that they are, The Ewings swing into action. Chris heads south of the border to speak to Nicolas’ wife Lucia and tells her that he’s wise to his true identity and motives. Lucia sends him off empty-handed but when she gets confirmation that her husband is holed up with Elena Ramos in a possibly Lake Ray Hubbard (or Lake Tawakoni if you wanna save some cash) love shack, she defies Nicolas’ urging that she go into hiding with the kids and shows up in Dallas.
When word gets back that Trevino is selling off divisions of Ewing Global for seventy cents on the dollar (just take out an ad in the Greensheet, why don’t you?), John Ross has to go hat in hand to Pamela for help in getting the Sheikh’s aid in buying them back. Though she’s still smarting from his betrayal, she puts on her game face to help get Annie back. After a meeting with the Sheikh’s son—in which Junior has to sit passively while his estranged wife and business partner discuss how much of a mark he is—Pamela secures the Sheikh’s blessings.
Bobby goes down to Austin where he uses his muscle as railroad commissioner to, I don’t know … make trains do stuff. Seriously, without Jim Hightower, can you name any Texas railroad commissioner? I can’t, and I got mad paid for knowing esoteric stuff like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo’s real name. Whatever it is, it better pay off soon because in Mexico City la mierda is getting geopolitically real as the cartel’s using their newfound Ewing cash-flow to fund their plan to undermine the upcoming elections with riots and other civil unrest.
Annie tries to get her bearings on possible escape routes for herself and Emma and witnesses Luis’ goons throwing quicklime on the bodies of villagers who ran counter to the cartel’s wishes. When word gets back that the Ryland convoy is stopped at the border crossing, Luis goes ape-ess and drags Emma off to a room where he puts a gun to her head. With the Rylands on the phone, he pulls the trigger. . . and shoots at the wall instead. Seriously, he wants his drugs.
Bobby leaves Love Field and shows up in Tamaulipas. He informs Luis of his Austin gambit: using homeland security preparation, as a ruse he will divert attention away from the tracks for three hours, giving the Ochoas free reign to pump as many drugs into America’s mainline. Bobby persuades Luis that El Pozolero will surely reward his lieutenant for such a daring plan and Luis agrees. In gratitude, he is prepared to meet Ewing halfway—he will give up one, and only one, of his captives.
So who will it be: Annie or Emma?
So there it was folks, last night’s episode of Dallas: Boxed In. Full disclosure: my wife cheered when it looked like Emma was going to cash it in. I did too, but I’m admittedly spoiled by Game of Thrones, Breaking Bad and Boardwalk Empire where characters are knocked off with regular abandon. For real, TNT: if your dramas are gonna go “BOOM” as your commercials claim, you’re gonna have to get your hands dirty every now and then.
See y’all in seven days.
