Well, T-Bag's killed again. This time, it's a shrink to whom he bears an uncanny resemblance. This is necessary, because T-Bag needs a passport so that he may go to Thailand with his ill-gotten millions. And in one of those it's-a-small-world twists: the plane from 'Bama to Bangkok just happens to be stopping in Chicago, where Bellick boards it. Mahone's dog is on his way down to Mexico.
(Insert sentence here about Sucre and Maricruz in Mexico. That whole set-up was one big blur, quite possibly because my eyes were rolling too much to focus on anything.)
Meanwhile, Michael and Lincoln take their recording -- which is so awesome and so radical that we mortals can't be trusted to listen to whatever's on it -- and plan to hand it off to a pal of Aldo's within the administration. There's a cat-and-mouse scene wherein they make the guy they think is Cooper Green do all sorts of silly things, and to make a long and tense sequence short: not Cooper Green, so Michael knocks him out. Then he and Linc head back to the hotel to stew until Dr. Sara shows up with the real Cooper Green. They probably wish she hadn't: after Green examines the tape (again: so marvelous that ordinary human ears can't listen to it), he determines that they can't accurately date the conversation. Therefore, Lincoln will not be exonerated. However, with a little blackmail, he could get a presidential pardon.
That is, if Kellerman doesn't blow off President Reynolds' head first. He spends the entire episode making his preparations for such an event, and it is strangely, disturbingly hot.
In the just plain disturbing plot: Mahone convinces C-Note to commit suicide. It's a wrenching scene when he threatens C-Note with Dede and Kacee's lives, and it's a wrenching scene when C-Note says good-bye to Kacee, and I could barely watch when C-Note put the noose Mahone gave him around his neck and jumped. Apparently, the editors were having a hard time with it too: the episode ended before we could confirm that Benjamin Miles Franklin killed himself.
So is it Monday yet?
The episode opens with a computer imaging of sound waves, so as to let us know that Michael, Dr. Sara, and Linc are listening to the file on the thumbnail drive that Pope got out of the humidor last episode. What they're listening to is apparently too splendid for mortal ears , as we get only whooshy background music and lots of close-ups of Michael, Dr. Sara, and Linc looking grim. I mean, grim even compared to normal: you can tell because someone's brought in the special cheekbone-shadowing lights to make them look even more put-upon than usual.
The recording finally ends. We can tell because the line peters out, and Michael sighs. However, everyone's too stunned to say anything. How convenient. It's not like we viewers particularly care to know what was on the recording. Dr. Sara finally says, "Oh, my God." Linc backs her up with, "Yeah."
Meanwhile, in the Chicago FBI headquarters, Mahone is busy drawing red Xs through the Team Escarpara members he's killed or is about to kill (i.e. C-Note). He blows off Wheeler's testy inquiry into protocol in re: C-Note assisting in the Scofield capture, then cheers on the troops with: "We're at the half-way mark, people. Burrows, Scofield (scoffs), Bagwell, Sucre... they're still out there." Lang helpfully reminds everyone that Sucre's been spotted in Mexico. It is a bad sign for Sucre that watching people scheme to capture him is more interesting than watching his antics.
Before Mahone can assign anyone to go south of the border, Bellick comes in. Bradley still looks the worse for wear, so you can imagine how thrilled Mahone is to have this great contused oaf glowering in the doorway. Mahone excuses himself and says cordially, "In my office, please."
Once they're there, all pretense of manners flees. Mahone would like to know what the hell Bellick is doing there. Bellick says he'd like his money. Mahone asks coolly, "Your what?" Bellick snaps, "The Patoshik reward money. See, how reward money works is, someone is rewarded the money, and since I'm the one who hunted down Haywire, the money gets rewarded to me." Oh, Bradley -- a week away from getting buggered by hyperthyroidal giants and you forget whatever lessons you learned about how bullying people is unpleasant for the one who is not the bully.
The two men quibble a little, and we learn that Bellick is not exactly clear on what the phrase "stay under the radar" means. Mahone says testily, "Are you under the radar, Brad? This is an office full of federal agents who now have all seen your face!" Maintaining his streak of complete blindness to anyone else's social cues, Bellick says he doesn't give a rat's tiny hindquarters about who sees what. He then adds, "If you don't pay up, I'll go out there and drop trou." Then he swaggers over to Mahone's desk and puts his feet up. Again, I repeat: funny how a week out of the pokey, the same man who was the victim of bullying is back to his old ways.
In a flash, Mahone has kicked Bellick's feet off the desk and is now pinning down one of Bellick's insteps. As Bellick tries not to writhe, Mahone leans in and snarls, "Patoshik died, you stupid son of a bitch. There's paperwork involved. Of course, you're going to get the money, but you're going to have to be patient. And if you ever come into my office again, you'll not only never see the cash, you'll never see another sunrise." Bellick glares his understanding. Mahone asks, with hale maliciousness, "You gonna keep crying about money you've already got coming to you, or do you want to make some more?" And that is how Bellick gets an assignment to hunt down Sucre in Mexico.
Back in their plushy Chicago hotel room, Linc is moaning about how handing the recording over to the government will only cause it to be discredited, much like their earlier broadcast was. I don't understand why these guys don't make a few dozen copies, mail them out to critics of the administration in the press and online, and wait for it to get nice and messy. Then again, I also don't understand why they ditched their disgruntled ex-government employee companion, when Kellerman would have been a handy resource in figuring out who in the government could help take down Madame Evil. Might it be that -- fantastic tattoos notwithstanding -- Michael et al. simply aren't very strong strategists?
So what the brain trust comes up with is this: handing over the recording to a government appointee within the administration, because then they are the ones blowing the lid off Madame Evil's administration. "And how could she discredit one of her appointees?" Dr. Sara asks. Oooh, I'll take that one. The answer is "easily." Lincoln asks, "We're going to give the only thing that can exonerate me to someone who works for the government?" He then adds at the top of his lungs, "The same government that SET ME UP?" Scream a little louder, Linc -- I'm not sure they heard you over at Mahone's office. Michael says they'll have to find an honest, trustworthy person to release the recording. Linc immediately thinks of Jane. Or, to be more precise, he thinks of her rolodex.
And somewhere in a Chicago alley, Kellerman is buying what appears to be a small cannon from someone who appears to be taking a rather informal approach to arms dealing. The guy enthuses, "Good from a thousand yards out." Kellerman would like to know, "She a clean shot?" The arms dealer replies, "Like a good woman -- she does not stray." You know, I liked this scene a whole lot better when it was Bruce Willis buying arms from Jack Black, quite possibly because the scene ended with Jack Black's death. I do not foresee any such gratification here. Anyway, the dealer throws in a box of hollow-point bullets and casually mentions, "Serial number's been cleaned, barrel's been scraped to throw off ballistics -- just in case you're not, you know, shooting at tin cans." You wouldn't really be shooting at tin cans so much as you'd be atomizing them. Kellerman says, "No, I'm hunting bigger game than that." Then to the surprise of nobody, Kellerman whips out a gun with a silencer on it and plugs the dealer. Welcome back, you magnificent bastard!
Credits and commercials. I see that Teri Polo has re-emerged. Six more weeks of winter it is, then.
When we come back, we're looking at Europeangoldfinch.net, and this window:
C-Finch69: Fish, Need help. My daughter is sick. C-Note.
Fish: C: Bag has the money. Sorry to hear about your daughter. Good luck.
C-Finch69: Fish: My daughter's sick. I need help. Any word on the money? --C.
As you can see, the dialogue's in reverse-chronological order. Anyway, Mahone is none too pleased that Michael's not responding more often, and C-Note stalls with, "I don't know how often he checks this thing." Mahone puts the pressure on with "I'm starting to wonder why I need you at all... I can type and Scofield can't see who's sending him the messages." C-Note replies, "You and I both know how smart this kid is, right?" Mahone replies, "Clearly smarter than you, considering you're the one wearing bright orange." That doesn't seem to be a very fair assessment. It's not like Michael had to handle a kid with kidney disease. C-Note responds, "Fish is not going to peek his little white ass out from any rock that he's hiding unless he sees --" "A familiar face," Mahone finishes for him, adding, "And that's your face, right?" "You're damn straight it is," C-Note replies. Then the two of them bicker over each other for a moment. As it winds down, Mahone reminds him, "I'm the only one in the world right now helping your family." The handcuffed C-Note pounds his wrists on the table for emphasis as he snaps back, "I help my family, okay?" Mahone presses on: "I'm the one who got Kacee released, I'm the one who gets Dede medical care, I'm the one that allows you to visit them, and I'm the one that can take it away." C-Note says coolly, "It looks like we need each other, don't we?" "Do we?" Mahone replies, equally cool. C-Note says belligerently, "I'm going to hold up my end of the bargain. And guess what? You hold up yours. Get off my back." I love that he's sassing Mahone. It doesn't give me much hope for C-Note's long-term prospects, but it's amusing in the now. Mahone finally softens a little bit and says, "You can get what you want, just give me what I want: Scofield."
Meanwhile, in a modest cottage in Pullman, Washington -- excuse me, but I have to take a moment to admire the mullioned windows on the sun porch and the charming proportions. Okay, where were we? West coast, that's where. And with L.J.! He's dorking around when the phone rings and it turns out to be Linc on the other line. They have a sweetly awkward conversation, with Linc saying, "I, uh, I miss you," and L.J. responding, "Yeah, me too." But L.J., how can you miss you? Is this one of those zen things? Anyway, L.J. hints that maybe Linc could have called more with, "I didn't know you had Jane's number... you never called." Linc apologizes and explains, "It's been dangerous." However, he's hopeful that this time, they've found something to put "the whole thing" behind them, and then he can come and get L.J. Linc waxes rhapsodic, "You and me, and your uncle --" "Dad?" L.J. interrupts. Linc stops, and L.J. explains, "I want you to end this more than anything. But I'm in school again. Under a fake name, but it's still school, you know?" Cut to Linc wondering which side of the family is responsible for the anti-truancy gene, and whether L.J. has any extracurriculars that could prove awkward later, such as cowbell choir. L.J. then says, "This is the closest thing to a home I've had in a long time." He does not add, "You know, since I got my mom killed." Nor does he add, "But don't worry -- you can come and visit me and my new hot stepmom as soon as Drive gets cancelled and Kristin Lehmann's available for this show again." L.J. instead adds, "I'm guess I'm just saying that for now, for a while, I just want to stay in one place and have something normal." Linc, to his credit, swallows his disappointment. Michael winces as he watches Linc. (That's a nice moment -- so restrained yet so suggestive of a long history of hyperawareness to Lincoln's moods.)
Meanwhile, in Birmingham, Alabama, we come to a doctor's office, where T-Bag is gazing upon the sheepskin of one Dr. Erik Stammel. We then get the doctor who, from the back, looks exactly like T-Bag. It's the same blocking trick they used to use on the Patty Duke Show whenever Patty and Cathy had to be in the same scene, and for one wild and glorious moment, I think, Holy cow, they've given T-Bag a psychotic break. The nasty, killing, I-come-from-tainted-blood nutcase side is about to have a conversation with his civilized side, and we'll get a reveal that shows us how southern-gothically crazy Theodore has gone. O, delightful! And as T-Bag says, "I've got a few things I need to get off my chest" and the music swells ominously, I can only hold my breath in cautious anticipation.
Back in Chicago, Linc has finally wrapped up his conversation with Jane. He's got a name -- Cooper Green, the former deputy attorney general. "He spends his time between D.C., Chicago and New York. He's been an ally of Dad's for forever. We find him, we've got a shot," Linc explains. Michael heads over and asks how L.J. is; Linc curtly replies that he's doing all right, then changes the subject by walking away.
We cut to Cooper Green's secretary in the Chicago office. She's pertly telling Michael (on the phone) that Green isn't in at the time. Michael implores, "This is very important. I have information regarding the sons of Aldo Burrows." We see the secretary shift demeanors; she is now all business, and very cagey. She asks, "Aldo Burrows?" Within seconds, she assures Michael she's reaching Green.
We cut to some disgruntled-looking, middle-aged guy in a suit, who just happens to be strolling around a park in Chicago. Michael introduces himself, and Green says, "I knew your father, and I knew what happened to him. I'm sorry -- he was a good man trying to do good things." When, I ask you, when would Michael have had time to call the Aldo Burrows -of-kin phone tree and let everyone know what happened before the fall hiatus? Of course, you can see Aldo's cairn from space, so maybe that's how Green knew? Or maybe this guy is a shifty imposter. But Michael doesn't think so: "We have something." Green quickly guesses it's the tape and adds, "I know a lot of people have been looking for it. What's on the tape?"
Michael tells Green that if he wants to find out, he must do the following: put on a blue suit and red tie, then meet at the bronze statue which marks the southwest corner of Ebert park. (I was like, "Ebert as in the Chicago-based critic? Nice one.) When Michael clicks off, we get the idea he and Linc are about to embark on some plan. Dr. Sara snaps out of the catatonic trance she's been in all episode to tell Michael "good luck." They squeeze hands. For these two, that is akin to the clinch on those posters for The Notebook. After Michael takes off, Linc assures her this will work. Dr. Sara nervously fidgets with her dad's humidor key.
Then she decides to take a visit to whatever Chicago-based cemetery her dad's planted in. I don't know which one it is, but I can tell you it's not Graceland. (Tangent: I love that cemetery. My great-grandfather buried his first and second wives there, in graves to one another, then went and got himself his own plot all the way across the cemetery. If you're even in Chicago, you should go -- not to see my relatives' graves, I mean, but because it really is a gorgeous cemetery with some truly remarkable mausoleums, and it's not too far from Wrigleyville, so you can catch a game too.) ANYWAY... Dr. Sara goes to grieve at her dad's headstone, which has been produced with remarkable alacrity for these things. We learn from the tombstone that in Prison Break time, it's only 2005, and Governor Dad died on June 1, 2005.
Not that I begrudge Dr. Sara her right to grieve her way and all, but if I were hunting recently-bereaved fugitives, their relatives' graves would be among the first place I'd look. And sure enough, it's the first place that former gubernatorial and presumed present One World Conspiracy minion Bruce is looking. Dr. Sara quits her crying and sniffles, "You look good, Bruce. You've done well for yourself at my father's expense." Bruce protests that's not the case, but Dr. Sara's pretty firm in her convictions: Bruce murdered her dad and then tried to take Dr. Sara out. Bruce protests. "How can you say that? My line was tapped and they heard you tell me you were at that pay phone. Sara, I've known your family my entire life --" "Which makes your betrayal disgusting," Dr. Sara replies, up on her high horse. She then adds, "For what it's worth, I've been tortured already. It didn't work." Bruce says, "I don't have to defend myself to you, Sara. If you can't trust me, then all I can do is wish you luck. Go." For some reason, this is what makes Dr. Sara think Bruce is worth listening to.
We then zoom a few miles down the road to Fox River. Hey, it's Captain Calorie, AKA Manche, Sucre's cousin. Time has... well, it hasn't been unkind, per se, but it has made Manche a candidate for some sort of makeover show, especially now that he's apparently a member of some gang. It turns out that Bellick's first step in tracking down Sucre will be to press Manche for details, since history has shown that Manche will sing like a bird the minute you look at him crosswise. Or, in Bellick's case, offer to send him to cushy, Martha Stewart-style prison.
And now, time for the plot that can be summed up in one paragraph. To the great surprise of no-one, it's Sucre's turn this week. However, the paragraph format grows tiresome, so let's engage in a series of skits.
Sucre: Hey, Tia! I realize I am a fugitive and all, but surely it's no problem to put me and the pregnant girlfriend up for a while? Like, in our own room? You've got no legal or religious qualms with that, right?
Tia Conveniencia: Honey, I'm just thrilled to see you. But aren't you going to introduce me to your lady friend by name?
Sucre: I usually swoon when I do that.
Tia Conveniencia: I can lift with the legs if you hit the ground.
Sucre: Very well -- it's... Maricruz. [swoons].
Maricruz: Was that the wind between my ears or did Sucre hit the ground again?
Tia Conveniencia: ... both?
[Time passes. Sucre and Maricruz are playing hide-the-fugitive, if you know what I mean.]
Sucre: So how long can we go before I fall prey to some dreadful urban legend? I don't want the kid grabbing my, you know.
Maricruz: Then we probably don't need to worry until I'm in labor. Maybe even pushing.
Sucre: Did you just insult me?
Maricruz: Ummm... oh, hey, I felt the baby move!
Sucre: Isn't it a little early for that?
Maricruz: Not at all! Didn't you see that episode of Beverly Hills, where Ohn-drea had the same thing happen so she didn't have an abortion?
Sucre: Usually, women are, like, in the second trimester and, showing. I don't mean showing ribs, I mean showing baby.
Maricruz: Who are you going to believe -- medical science or an Aaron Spelling show?
Sucre: You win this round, Maricruz! [swoons].
Back on the less tedious plot... it's the T-Bag show! He and the shrink walk alike, they talk alike... oh, could it be? Are they a crazy pair? T-Bag is crying as he says, "What I'm trying to tell you, doc, is I feel like I've been a penny on the train tracks my entire life. And that ol' Union-Pacific just keeps comin' every day, back and forth, running me over. But I will not flatten! I will not flatten." The shrink -- who sounds a lot like T-Bag, says, "One of the nice things about pennies, Mr. Webster? They have dates on them. And you can pick the date. Your own date, today's date. You can get a fresh start. You can be a brand-new, shiny penny." I ask you, doesn't this seem like the kind of conversation the crazy side of your brain has with the sane one? Wouldn't such an outlandish conceit be absolutely perfect for this character, since he's already gone down the "cannibals-et-mah-cousin!" road of full-bore Dixie dementia?
T-Bag likes hearing that he can reinvent himself as a piece of currency whose production costs outweigh its value. He gushes, "I had no intention whatsoever of talking to you once I stepped inside your office today, but I have to admit, I find therapy... it's therapeutic." The shrink is all, "If you didn't want to talk, why did you come in?" and we find out the bitter truth within moments. There will be no delightful split-personality thing going on. There is only some shrink who bears a passing resemblance to T-Bag and probably regrets those frosted tips in his hair, especially since many of those tips are now resting inside his skull.
Commercials. So Sandra Bullock remade Memento as a chick flick? Is that what Premonition is? Or is it like Daybreak only without the bonus Taye Diggs eye candy?
When we come back, the presumed Cooper Green is standing by the mammoth statue, kitted out in blue suit and red tie. A payphone nearby rings, and presumed Cooper eventually answers it. It's Linc. We switch to Linc, who is ensconced in a hotel room above the park and watching presumed Cooper with a pair of binoculars. Linc orders presumed Cooper to toss his suit jacket in the trash can behind him. After issuing some small amount of guff, presumed Cooper does. Linc then tells him, "There's a fountain on the other side of the park. Be there in four minutes." Presumed Cooper begins race-walking on over. We soon see that there are two dark-suited agents race-walking behind him, at what they clearly think is a discreet distance.
Linc then calls Michael; the younger brother says, "Make it quick: this cell is running out of juice." So it's quick: Linc tells Michael that yes, Michael was right about presumed Cooper being tailed, and Linc's taking care of that right now.
We see presumed Cooper doing the not-used-to-jogging jog, and by the time he gets to the phone, he's built up enough momentum to knock an addled homeless guy away from the receiver and listen to Lincoln's edict: "See the fountain? Get in." Presumed Cooper has a look like, "You've got to be kidding me." (Also amusing: this is supposed to be taking place in mid-summer, in Chicago, yet you can occasionally see presumed Cooper's breath as it hits the air.) Presumed Cooper wanders into the fountain; the two tailing suits stop and watch. One says, "They want to drown the mikes in case we bugged him."
The sodden presumed Cooper is walking down a sidewalk outside the fountain when a kid comes up and hands him a cell phone: "Hey, mister, this is for you." Presumed Cooper says he's not interested, but the kid corrects him: "I ain't selling it -- some dude gave me $20 to give it to the first wet guy I see." The phone rings, and Lincoln tells presumed Cooper, "See the building across the street from you? Go inside." Presumed Cooper snaps, "This is getting ridiculous. I've done everything you asked. If you want to meet me --" "I've been burned way too many times, Mr. Green," Linc interrupts. He orders presumed Cooper to go inside and keep the phone pressed to his ear. Presumed Cooper balefully glares, then hops to.
One of the tailing suit's mobile rings, and he tells Agent Kim that presumed Cooper is about to head inside a museum, and since there are men stationed all over it, Burrows and/or Scofield will not be going anywhere. Kim smiles. He picks up his mobile...
And we cut to Mahone, who audibly groans when he hears the phone ring. Kim tells him, "Get to Ebert park. I have men on Scofield and Burrows." Mahone is frankly incredulous: "Ebert Park?" Yeah, why didn't Siskel get a park named after him first? Then he asks, "What the hell is Scofield doing in Chicago?" Kim says, "You're asking why the deer walked into your crosshairs? Just take the shot, Mahone." Mahone says softly that he's on it. Then Kim changes the subject: "Franklin... " Mahone hedges, "I'm using Franklin to help me find Scofield." Kim smugly points out that since he has Scofield in his sights now, there is no need to keep C-Note alive.
We get a brief shot of Mahone's despairing expression, and when Mahone walks into the room where C-Note's cooling his heels, he stands and stares at C-Note with a mixture of agitation and resignation. Then he channels the tactic he used with Haywire, and says, "You know, if I were in your situation. Everything you've done, every decision you've made, I'd have done the same thing." C-Note looks up, and a visibly upset Mahone says, "You're a good man, a good father." Then his expression becomes implacable as he explains, "There's, um, been a change of plans. It looks like I'm not going to need your help after all." C-Note sighs and says, "So you found Scofield." "My colleagues are getting pretty close, yeah," Mahone says. He starts, "So... " and C-Note holds out his hands and says drolly, "So I guess you can set me free, then." Mahone silently shoots that down, and C-Note's face goes dark as he whispers, "Of course not."
Mahone walks over and sits down. He says, "You and me, we had a deal, right? I get your wife released, take care of your daughter's health, you get me Scofield." C-Note whispers, "But you're getting him yourself, you just said that." Mahone overrides him with, "I know, I know, I know. I just want you to know... I'm going to keep my promise to you and I'm going to help your family. But I'm going to need your help too. And this is something that you're not going to want to do, and I don't want you to do this, but I need you to do this." We see that Mahone can't even look C-Note in the eye as he delivers this ultimatum: "If you don't, your wife will be arrested again, and I will have Dede's medical care stopped, and I will hate myself and it will make me sick, but I swear to God... I will ruin their lives. Don't make me." C-Note is understandably confused, as would we all be when someone unspools as much as Mahone just has. But the agent winds it up again and tells C-Note that later, he'll get a package in his cell and he needs C-Note to use it. C-Note asks what's in it, and Mahone gets up and abruptly leaves. C-Note asks, "Yo, yo, what's in it, man?" Mahone turns around and snaps, "Use it, or you'll wish you had!" He slams out as the rattled C-Note yells, "What the hell is in the package, man? What the hell is in the package, man?"
Meanwhile, presumed Cooper wetly waddles into the serene wood-floored foyer of the museum. He tells Linc he's in the lobby. Linc directs him around the museum and through a white door in the basement. Oh, please tell me this is another building that Michael happens to know inside and out.
Across town, Bruce is proving his fealty by letting Dr. Sara know that he and Cooper Green go way back and -- surprise! The real Cooper Green happens to be in the office and bearing no resemblance whatsoever to the stern-faced guy Michael and Lincoln are dealing with. We cut to Dr. Sara quietly putting everything together.
And then we cut to the former presumed Cooper, whom I now dub False Cooper, being guided below the buildings (how is that phone getting decent reception down there?), grousing all the while.
We cut to Dr. Sara introducing herself and asking, "I trust you've met with Lincoln Burrows and Michael Scofield today?" Cooper Green chortles that he probably would have remembered meeting with two fugitives. (Sadly, we do not get a shot of the receptionist dying a thousand deaths as she realizes she's got Dr. Sara in front of her and no way to credibly alert the One World Conspiracy.) Dr. Sara bugs out as she asks, "If you're Cooper Green, who's meeting with Michael right now?"
I don't know, but he sure is cranky. He and Michael are in some sort of supply room. After some very restrained introductions, False Cooper asks, "Do you have the tape?" Michael holds up the (uncapped) drive and says, "It's right here."
Cut to Dr. Sara frantically calling Linc and telling him that the man Michael's meeting with is not Cooper Green. We'll have to wait until after the commercials to see if Linc acts on this information.
Commercials. Every once in a while, there comes a commercial block that makes me feel profoundly disconnected from this show's target demographic. And this block, with its ads for horror movies and X-Box games and SUVs the size of my living room? It is that block.
Well, what do you know? Linc is acting on this new information. He's running over to meet Michael. Good to know he's got a plan for getting around any One World Conspiracy goons that have staked the place out.
Cut to False Cooper nearly blowing his cover as he grabs for the drive, claiming he should hurry before the One World Conspiracy twigs to what's going on. Fortunately, Michael is suspicious and asks, "Where are we going?" False Cooper replies, "We're going to make sure that tape gets in the right hands." That is not the most trust-inspiring answer. Michael makes it clear that he is not moving unless he's got full disclosure: "This tape is my brother's life, and mine. And consequently, I need a name [of the judge you'll hand the tape over to]." False Cooper spits out, "Judge Scott Warren... he has no job to lose, no loyalty to Reynolds. He wants to see her gone, just like us." False Cooper tries to hurry things along, but Michael insists, "The judge comes to us. I'll set up the meeting."
False Cooper throws a snit: "Do you see my clothes? Your brother made sure whoever was tailing me is long gone. On top of that, I'm an asthmatic. My inhaler was in that jacket Lincoln made me throw away. I'm okay now, but in about ten minutes, I'm going to have a hard time breathing. I've got a spare in glove box, so could we please just get back to my car?"
We cut to Linc lumbering along the route he recently gave to False Cooper. He gets to the supply room... and it's empty.
Cut to False Cooper heading outside, Michael right behind him. False Cooper thinks everything's going fine until Michael asks him, "Albuterol, cortisone, or prednisone?" False Cooper is all, "Huh?" and Michael explains, "My mother was an asthmatic. What do you use in your inhaler?" False Cooper snaps, "What the hell difference does it make?" Is he even trying here? If I were posing as the trusted longtime associate of the father of a couple of escaped cons, I'd be bending over backwards to gain their trust, not taking offense at every question. After all, the best way to sell a big lie is to surround it with little truths, so why not just be up front about things like names and inhaler substances? False Cooper snaps, "You're a real piece of work. How many times do I have to prove myself to you?" Michael replies coolly, "Just one." Attaboy, pretty. False Cooper sighs and snaps, "Fine. Cortisone." Michael sighs and appears to be relieved by the answer, saying, "I'm sorry. It's just that if you knew what we'd been through... " False Cooper's all, "Fine. Let's go to my car." Michael lets him walk a little, then grabs False Cooper by the back of the head and slams him into a nearby wall. He then kicks the guy into submission. Damn, Scofield! Linc is rubbing off on you. Speaking of the big lug, here he is now, out-of-breath and vaguely disappointed that he won't get to pound anyone into submission this week.
Back in Alabama, T-Bag mixes it up Amazing Race-style in his efforts to get to Bangkok. He must now fly through Chicago and an international stop to be named later. He also gets testy when the desk clerk suggests he check his big bag of ill-gotten money. However, the bag checker insists, citing FAA regulations. We see T-Bag wince with anxiety as the bag trundles out of view on the conveyer belt.
We switch back to Chicago, where Kellerman is sitting in the car and listening to a radio report about how traffic is about to be snarled up thanks to Madame Evil's impending visit. He twiddles a mean-looking hollow point bullet as he listens.
We cut to some earnest-looking lady telling a pasty office drone that in her office, they use both sides of the paper on legal pads: "Before we recycle, we reduce. The Comanches use the entire buffalo, so can we." She grins, and over her shoulder, Kellerman pops into view, saying. "Actually, the majority of tribes would farm land until it was stripped of its fertility, then they would just... move. The Indians as conservationists -- a myth created by [grin] white liberal guilt." The lady says, "Paul." Kellerman says gently, "Hi... Christine."
We cut to them inside Christine's office. She's sitting, he's standing, and it's totally obvious he's her adored big brother. Christine says, "I thought maybe I'd see you at Dad's funeral." Kellerman says, "That man died long before his heart stopped. The funeral was a formality." Christine grins at him. He drinks coffee and protests, "It's true." She asks if Kellerman would like to know how their mother is, and Kellerman sardonically replies, "Just because someone spits you out of their crotch doesn't make them your mother. That woman is insane. Do you remember? Have you suppressed it all?" Christine protests that she was there every day -- "unlike you." Kellerman points out that he was there for 18 years. Christine replies simply, "I was ten, Paul. You were all I had in the world, and you just left me there." I find it very striking that in the same episode where Mahone and C-Note are shown to be funhouse-mirror versions of one another, we're also learning that Kellerman is the anti-Linc. Where Burrows truncated his own opportunities to expand Michael's, Kellerman got out and stayed out.
Kellerman finally says, "I'm sorry. If I could have taken you with me, I would have, and I've thought about you every day." He strokes her face affectionately; it is weirdly reminiscent of the tenderness he showed Dr. Sara in between bouts of trying to drown her. As Christine pulls herself together, Kellerman pauses, then says, "I'm not the brother you remember. I've changed in a... really bad way." That is a... really impressive understatement. Kellerman continues, saying he's at a point where he doesn't know what good or bad is. He warns her, "And I am going to do something -- I have to do something -- that a lot of people are going to think is horrible." As Christine says, "Paul... " Kellerman looks down and says, with an intense, sincere tenderness, "And you just remember the brother you grew up with. You just remember him. You're my sister, Christine. I love you." He kisses her quickly and walks away.
Cut to False Cooper explaining to his tailers AND Mahone that thanks to being knocked out cold, he has no idea where anyone is. That's okay -- he's not going to be punished or anything. I mean, look at how many times Agent Kim has screwed up, and he's still nestled in the bowels of the One World Conspiracy. Mahone calls Kim and cheerily tells him, "You brought me in too late -- they're gone." Kim has an It figures look. He commands, "Then find them," but the order lacks his usual brio. Mahone muses, "The brothers come back to a city that's 15 miles from the prison they escaped from. Why would they do that?" Kim thinks they have designs on Madame Evil. Mahone says, "And of all people, they want to meet with someone from the attorney general's office." Kim sighs, "Your point?" Mahone replies, "Burrows is innocent?" Kim patronizes him with, "You're good, Alex. As advertised. No one's truly innocent. You of all people should know that." What about babies? Or is conspiring to wet a diaper every few hours considered evil now? I mean, other than by the parent who just changed the little mite. We cut to Mahone, looking peeved as he realizes how thoroughly he's been lied to.
Back in a plushy hotel room, Michael has just figured out that the One World Conspiracy was on to Cooper Green and his relationship with Aldo. Since he and Linc are a little jumpy right now, Dr. Sara's knock on the door sends them into defensive positions. But she's come bearing former deputy U.S. attorneys.
It's delivery time at the prison where C-Note is being held. The con on duty hands over a slim cardboard box about the size of a Harry Potter hardback. C-Note takes it. His demeanor suggests that he knows he's not about to escape to an absorbing world of wizards and magic. When C-Note opens the box, we all set a rope, neatly pre-tied in a noose. What a sensitive and fitting image for the episode that closed out Black History Month. Both C-Note and I stare, appalled.
Commercials. I hadn't realized that 300 starred both McNulty AND the Phantom of the Opera. This promises to be more interesting that I initially thought.
When we get back, we see that the U.S. government has spared no expense in sending Bellick to Mexico. He is on a middle seat in coach class, shoehorned in between Exhibit A and Exhibit B in the upcoming presentation "America's Obesity Epidemic: How It Will Affect Your In-Flight Experience." Both of Bellick's seatmates are busy shoveling food into their mouths while Bellick learns that the real price of low airfares is no catering service in coach class. I'm guessing someone on the Prison Break writing staff just had a wretched cross-country flight. Anyway, the flight attendant tells Bellick to shut up and wait for his pretzels, or else she'll order the plane to be grounded on the tarmac for eight hours without any food, drink or bathroom service. Okay, perhaps it's not that sincere. There are three points to this scene: the middle seat sucks out loud; the American airlines that aren't outright discounters treat their coach passengers like mobile cow pats; and T-Bag just happens to be on the same flight as Bellick, only in first class. Oh, won't that make Bellick's landing in Mexico that much more fun?
It's visiting time for C-Note and Kacee. While he sniffles, she fills him in on Dede's recovery. C-Note is teary, and Kacee tells him, "Because of you -- she's going to be okay because of you." It's nice to see she doesn't hold a grudge from being thrown in jail. In fact, when C-Note fervently asks for her forgiveness, she tenderly, quickly responds, "Of course I forgive you!" C-Note asks her, "You know when Dede was, like, four. She wanted to watch this video. I kept telling her, 'After the game, after the game, okay?' And she kept asking, and kept asking and I lost my patience, and I snapped at her real bad. And she, uh, went over into the corner and I didn't even go over and say anything --" Kacee sensibly asks, "Why are you getting yourself upset over something that happened years ago, baby? Years ago." C-Note overrides her, tearily telling her, "I want you to tell her that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And that my baby girl means everything to me. Just tell her that she means everything to me, okay? You tell her that every day." A baleful buzz ends visiting time. Kacee tries desperately to comfort the sobbing C-Note before leaving, reluctantly. Once she's gone, C-Note is drained.
We cut a shot of people cheering for an extension of Madame Evil's regime. Then we zoom in on the actual crowd, then up to a rooftop where Kellerman, back in Secret Service drag, is approaching another agent. After waving his badge, he chats with another agent for a second or two before killing him. O, you magnificent bastard.
Meanwhile, Mahone's back to doing what he loves best: peering into the wine-dark strategizing of his Mental Mind Mate, Michael. And within seconds, merely by standing to the fountain where False Cooper took his earlier swim, Mahone has figured out that Michael and Linc are staying at the hotel right near the park.
Inside that hotel, Cooper's just heard the recording (again: too awesome for mere mortal ears like yours or mine to process) and he asks if the fugitives understand what they have. Cooper then records the unique data from the memory key so it can't be swapped out for any other. Then he checks the file -- apparently, in looking at the recording, the date stamp only reflects the date the recording was copied, not the date it was actually recorded. Cooper explains to the baffled crowd, "Without a time stamp of exactly when this conversation took place, we can't prove that this is Terence Steadman talking after you supposedly killed him. This could have happened a year before his funeral. It can't be authenticated, so it can't be admitted to any court as evidence." Linc is not taking this well. Michael stops taking it well when Cooper adds, "Legally speaking, this tape is useless."
Mahone goes barreling into the hotel lobby and quickly determines that Michael and Linc have not checked into the hotel, but Dr. Sara sure has. He's got a room number.
Up in room 1006, Cooper is showing why he is a brilliant lawyer as compared to, say, Veronica: "I said [the recording] couldn't help you in a court of law. Maybe it could help you outside a court of law... we all heard the conversation. There's more to this tape than potential proof of Lincoln's innocence. There's proof of Carolyn Reynolds' guilt. Guilt about something she does not want anyone to know anything about." Right as Michael begins musing on blackmail, Cooper cagily covers his derriere with, "I'm an officer of the court. I didn't say that." However, if the fugitives wanted to blackmail Madame Evil in exchange for a pardon for Lincoln, why, that might workable. It's just too bad that right then is the moment when we cut to Kellerman, calmly setting up his big-assed killing machine and preparing to kill Madame Evil in t-minus two minutes. It is disturbingly hot to watch him.
Fortunately, that feeling gets squashed by watching C-Note fit the noose around his neck as he stands on the bunk. He sighs. We get an upward-angled shot of him standing on the bunk, the noose tied to the pipe running across the ceiling. Frankly, it reminds me way too much of the lynching photos that people used to snap as souvenirs, may those evil cowards rot in hell. C-Note whispers, "I love you," then falls forward. We end the episode watching him fall, not quite sure what happens . And because of that, I'm not eulogizing C-Note nor applauding Rockmond Dunbar's remarkable creation of a complex character just yet.