Landman Season 1 - Episode 9 (2026 Release)

“Thirty million. By Friday. Or M-Tex gets carved up and sold for parts. And you, me, and every roughneck we employ will be out of a job—or worse. The other side of that gap? That’s where the cartel wants to plant a flag.”

On his table—the same table from the cold open—is a severed horse head. Not a horse. A coyote. Gutted. And pinned to its fur with a hunting knife: a folded map of the Permian Basin, with every M-Tex well pad marked in red X.

Tommy doesn’t flinch. He just picks up his phone, dials a number from memory, and says:

Cut to a dusty well pad forty miles south. Cooper Norris (Jacob Lofland) is running a two-man crew. He’s grown up fast since his father threw him into the field. His hands are calloused, his face leaner. He’s no longer the rebellious kid—he’s a man learning that leadership means making the choice no one else will. Landman Season 1 - Episode 9

Inside, Rebecca Falcone (Kali Reis), the sharp-witted, no-nonsense attorney, is waiting. She’s no longer just the corporate shark; she’s become an unlikely ally. The walls have ears, so she slides a burner phone across the table.

The phone buzzes. Not a call—a text from an unknown number: "The wind changed. Your move."

Tommy doesn’t react. He just stares out the window at the endless, dark expanse of pump jacks silhouetted against a bruised sky. Episode 9 doesn’t start with action. It starts with the quiet before the inevitable storm. “Thirty million

A close-up of Tommy’s face, reflected in the window. Behind him, the coyote’s blood pools across the map. He looks less like a landman now, and more like a general on the eve of a war he never wanted.

On the table: a stack of legal documents, a cold cup of black coffee, and a single brass casing from a .45 ACP. He rolls the casing between his fingers. It’s a souvenir from the cartel shootout two episodes ago. A reminder that the line between landman and target has become terrifyingly thin.

Tommy sets the glass down. He stands. For a long moment, he says nothing. Then: “You’re making a mistake. I’m not a good man. But I am a predictable one. And I don’t negotiate with people who threaten my family.” And you, me, and every roughneck we employ

Tommy takes the tequila. Doesn’t drink. Just holds it.

He hangs up. Pours the cold coffee down the sink. Takes a long breath.

Gallo gestures to a folding table set up on the tarmac. On it: a bottle of aged tequila, two glasses, and a leather-bound ledger.

“And if I say no?”