Episode Report Card Sobell: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Bad Boys Eventually Get Quiet Time
By Sobell | Season 4 | Episode 11 | Aired on 11.17.2008
T-Bag's derailing of two federal agents is only one task in what proves to be a busy day. Mr. White, it transpires, is so impressed with the Southern-fried hokum that T-Bag fed the new franchisees, he's decided to reward T-Bag with a berth on GATE's annual cruise. "Seven days and six nights of non-stop pitching," Mr. White enthuses. T-Bag rightly looks aghast. It is not, however, because he'll spend a week in sales-pitch hell, but rather because the cruise leaves today. He regretfully turns down the cruise. Is T-Bag actually sorry to leave his life of semi-legitimacy?
Back at Team Scylla HQ, Dr. Sara's explaining how the heat sensors work: "As soon as they pick up any heat source registering 90 degrees [Fahrenheit] or above, the system goes into standby. The yellow light comes on. After five seconds in standby, if the heat source isn't gone, we have an alarm." Sucre clarifies, "We've got six seconds to make it across the hallway and through the glass walk?" Yes. Now aren't you sorry Usain Bolt isn't working on this with you? Mahone has a better idea: use liquid nitrogen to regulate the temperature. Then he sits down for a chat with Michael. Mahone says, "About four years after I joined the Bureau, my first special agent in charge, he was diagnosed with liver cancer. But for him, the hardest part wasn't the treatment, the hardest part was leaving the office, because we had -- we had this big RICO case that was about to go to trial, and we're talking thousands of man-hours and five years of research -- and the guy was going to be in chemo, and he was scared. He was scared that we were going to lose the case, and that a lot of bad men were going to walk." Michael interjects, "Let me guess: he had a rag-tag band of criminals ready to pick up the slack." Michael, I'm going to assume that's the tumor talking and you did not just call Sucre, Dr. Sara and Linc "a rag-tag band of former criminals." Mahone sort of grins at how Michael cut through his little anecdote, then rises with, "We're not going to let you down, Michael." As he walks off, Michael asks what happened to Mahone's boss. Mahone says casually, "Oh, he was there to see us win," then keeps on rolling.
We cut to Fang and his flunkies setting up a new Scylla complication: "Either we pay for Scylla, or we kill for it." Killing might be easier. What are a few bodies to hide compared to the massive, shrink-wrapped pallets of cash that are being forklifted into vans? Also, does it seem like paying $125 million in cash is sort of the high-crime equivalent of paying for your delivery pizza in pennies? Isn't this why Swiss bank accounts exist?