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Those of you who were all, "You know what this show needs? Six separate plotlines that are spiraling out into several separate directions" -- your dreams have been answered! Tonight's episode featured:
1. The plotline where Dr. Sara figured out that her dad's right-hand man Bruce was part of the One World Conspiracy out to get her, then figured out the coded messages Michael had been sending via origami crane. It is amazing how fighting off your would-be killer with a bottle of oven cleaner (or bug spray, or Pam) can sharpen those analytic skills.
2. The plotline where the Feds set a trap for Linc by having L.J. hang out near a downtown bus depot, under oodles of surveillance, in an effort to draw Linc out of hiding. But Linc fools them! He pays a homeless guy $50 to beat the tar out of L.J., then absconds with his son when they're in the hospital. Nothing says "love" like hiring strangers to punch your kid.
3. The plotline where Bellick and Geary lurch back onto the screen, making us all grateful that Smell-O-Vision has not yet been invented, because then we would all be gagging on the sour fumes of Old Milwaukee and desperation. And sweat. Lots of sweat. Anyway, the guys make it down to Tooele a day late. They are not a dollar short, because Bellick swipes a Benjamin from Jeannette.
4. The plotline where it's revealed that Sucre's hold-up and subsequent escape with what he thinks is the lootâ¦is all a clever ploy he and Michael colluded on.
5. The plotline where it's revealed that you still have to get up pretty godddamn early to pull one over on T-Bag because he managed to take off with all the money and a new set of wheels.
6. And the plotline where my screen nearly explodes in a hail of glittering, evil shards after Kellerman and Mahone share a scene together. So much calculating malice in one car -- how can it possibly be contained? Answer: it darn near can't. But we find out the One World Conspiracy has something on Mahone, so he'll be killing every member of Team Escarpara. Or at least those who are not locked into five-year contracts.
Regrettably, there was no time to find out how Haywire's raft-building was going, which was a pity, because Michael and Sucre could have used some aquatic assistance at assorted points in the evening. Perhaps time⦠Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously on Prison Break... Illinois had a living and breathing governor. Now, not so much. Also, Mahone killed Tweener in cold blood and Sucre decided to take the $5 million and run.
The episode begins by showing that Sucre has still decided to take the $5 million and run. The soundtrack's percussive thuds punctuate the back-and-forth camera work between Sucre's face and the faces of his surprised Team Escarpara colleagues. Then C-Note breaks the silence by politely inquiring, "What the hell are you doing, Sucre?" Michael whispers, "Sucre, whatever you want... " Sucre tells him he wants the money. Five million will go a long way toward hiring the permanent lighting crew that will keep the scary and dramatic shadows on Sucre's face. The badass look is a good one on him. Michael broods, C-Note acts outraged, and T-Bag just looks skeptical. Sucre snarls, "This is a business -- five million dollars' worth of business." Michael whispers bitterly, "Once a thief, always a thief."
Anyway, Sucre says sharply, "You only figuring that out now?" Then he shouts, "Backpack! Now!" C-Note is glaring daggers at Sucre so it falls to Michael to fetch a black satchel and bring it to Sucre. Michael is still trying to appeal to the better angels of Sucre's nature, while C-Note tries to appeal to Sucre's common sense with the observation that he is outnumbered. This is where C-Note has plainly miscalculated: since when have things like "reason" and "facts" ever made an impression on Sucre? Meanwhile, T-Bag continues to look shifty. He finally asks Sucre, "What are you going to do, shoot at all of us?" Sucre concedes, "Probably not." He then fires a shot at T-Bag's feet. We see C-Note's startled expression. We do not see the rapidly forming puddle around T-Bag's feet. Sucre snarls, "But I will get two [people shot]. Now, which two is it going to be?" There is much angry staring and manly clenching of jaws. Sucre takes off with an "Adios, amigos!"
Once we hear his little bike puttering off in the distance, we're left to witness C-Note's near-nervous breakdown. When he asks, "What are we going to do now, man?" T-Bag says indignantly, "Ain't no way I'm going to let that dunderpate ride off with FIVE -- ARGH!" Hee! Dunderpate is an excellent word. I applaud its use.
Cut to Michael coming in to tend to their hostages. He hands Jeanntte a butter knife and tells her, "I'm going to hand you this, and you should be able to cut yourself free in about an hour." Daughter Ann watches all of this with interest. C-Note would like to know what the plan is now; without even consulting his tattoos, Michael coolly tells him, "You can do what you want. I let that psychopath T-Bag loose once. I'm not going to do it again." He grabs a cord of some sort (extension cord?) and heads into the garage.
Unsurprisingly, the garage is empty. You would think that by this point in his short but intense relationship with T-Bag, Michael would have known better than to think that the survival-minded con would have hung around waiting for the police to show. I guess it hadn't occurred to him to mastermind a plan, make up a series of mnemonic clues, then get them tattooed on his forehead just in case this eventuality ever sprang up.
C-Note takes a look around, stammers something about needing to take off, then sprints out the door. Michael sighs and heads back inside the house. He grabs Ann's police radio. She tells him, "They're going to get you." He does not reply, "Is this show titled Pregnant Cop In A Kitchen? No. It's the Hot Cons In Half-Buttoned Shirts Hour. So, uh, no, I don't think anyone will be coming to get me." After Michael leaves, we see T-Bag stop by the kitchen window and look inside. He is one crafty little bugger, is he not?
Meanwhile Dr. Sara is crouched on the floor of her apartment, trying to figure out when the Smack Fairy had time to make a visit. A guy walks out of the kitchen and says, "Ms. Tancredi... " She jumps out of her skin, as would most of us if we came face to face with the dude who shot and killed Veronica. (The rest of us would probably offer to buy him a drink.) The blond guy's all, "I didn't mean to startle you." What did he think would happen when he wandered out of her kitchen? That Dr. Sara would be like, "At last! The Lord has delivered unto me a man lacking either addictions or felony convictions"? The guy proceeds to make awkward small talk about Dr. Sara's recent bereavement, and Dr. Sara points out that her dad didn't commit suicide. She then picks up a vase and tosses it on the ground.
Agent Von Blondie asks, "What are you doing?" Dr. Sara sends another knick-knack flying as she shouts, "Making sure it doesn't look like I did [commit suicide]! People will ask questions if the day the governor killed himself, his daughter was found in what looks like a struggle." She cuts her arm with a convenient shard of pottery. Agent Von Blondie counters that they can recast the narrative thusly: "In an apparent bid to duck jail time, his daughter skips bail and disappears." As he backs her into the kitchen, he says, "I'm talking about your last minutes, Miss Tancredi." Dr. Sara does not point out that she didn't go through medical school so her killers could call her "Miss Tancredi." Fortunately, she's still got her bag over her shoulder and her pottery shard in her hand. Agent Von Blondie points out that the stuff on the table is premium and wouldn't it be nice to die while high? Dr. Sara stalls long enough to grab the bottle of "Bitsea Bug Rid" she happens to have to the stove (let's hope she doesn't confuse it with PAM) and spray Agent Von Blondie in the eyes. Good on her! She then brains him with the can, throws a table in his way, then gets the hell out of the apartment via the fire escape. Agent Von Blondie manages to recover his eyesight fairly quickly, which tells us all that Dr. Sara should have probably bought Raid, but he's too slow to catch Dr. Sara.
We switch from her running to Michael running through the woods. He's following a rumbling noise, and eventually finds... Sucre. The producers try to pretend this will be a dramatic confrontation for about 45 seconds, but who are they kidding? Michael says, "Adios, amigos, huh?" and Sucre asks, "What? Too much?" Yay! They are still BFF! The two bump knuckles in a manly fashion, while the opening chords of the "O, these cons! How they scheme!" theme start up. Sucre comments on how heavy the bag is, and Michael says they should open it up and spread out the money so they can figure out how to split it. He wants four shares -- one for Sucre, one for Linc, one for him, and "one for Charles' daughter, with her father's love, just like I promised." Sucre brings up C-Note and says, "I feel kind of bad about the whole thing." "There's no way to know if we can trust him," Michael points out, but adds that when they get down to Panana, they may send a little something to Mrs. C-Note to make sure she's taken care of.
However, their celebration is very short-lived. They pull out a stack of those National Anthropology magazines T-Bag had been man-handling in the last episode, and we transition to T-Bag driving a truck down a remote country road and flashing back to the bait-and-switch he'd been planning even before Sucre's gun stunt. As Michael and C-Note filled up one bag, he filled the other with the magazines, then gave that one to Sucre. It is beyond my comprehension why Michael and Linc didn't just knock out T-Bag for the duration once they found the money. It's not like he was useful. And it's not like Sucre and C-Note would have objected.
Anyway, we then skip to another flashback where, in a shocking break from tradition, T-Bag does not assault or kill someone to get something he wants. He's bought and old truck, and now he and his ill-gotten millions are driving all the way to the credits.
Commercials. As I watch the Victoria's Secret ad, it occurrs to me that the chain holds a virtual monopoly on the mall-lingerie market segment. Why is that?
When we get back, L.J. is being released on some random downtown block in Kingman, Arizona. A detention center official gives L.J. a list of employers who don't mind hiring ex-cons. L.J. looks around and notices a number of guys in suits just casually standing around. Then we pop over to a corner where Linc is busy watching L.J. being watched. The poor man -- I don't know what medical malady requires his pecs to need constant airing, but I'm sure it must be agonizing. He pulls back to wince in pain -- See! It hurts him to wear clothes! -- then confirms that yes, the only person currently not in on the One World Conspiracy surveillance effort appears to be the remarkably clean panhandler over yonder.
L.J. manages to shake the detention official -- unlike, oh, everyone else on this show, he has a healthy sense of skepticism -- and as he walks off, the guy pulls out a phone and calls Kellerman to say, "The kid didn't bite. He's on his way." On the other end of the phone, Kellerman counsels him with, "Have your men follow him. Remember, it's the father we want."
Meanwhile, Michael and Sucre are not coping well. Michael is on all fours, groaning, "We can't go back." Sucre helpfully reminds him, "You said it -- 'without the money, we're screwed.'" Michael gets all flustered and repeats, "Let me think, let me think, let me think... the money's not back at the house unless T-Bag is." Sucre would like to know what they'll do now. Michael points out they've still got $5,000 in cash, and while that is but 1% of the total cash, it should be enough to get going.
Well, they'll have to get going soon, since the police radio has helpfully piped up with the news that Ann and Jeanette have been found and the cops are now combing the area.
As Sucre rolls the bike through the woods, he continues carping on Michael, "I thought you said we'd have a head start." "It was the gunshot, buddy. One of the neighbors must have heard," Michael says easily. I was about to make a remark about how quickly he's recovered from this monkey wrench in his plans, and then I remembered... it's not like he hasn't had thirty episodes' worth of practice in getting over life's little setbacks. As a police car goes by, Michael realizes that they'll have to shelve their dream of riding down the open roads with the wind in their stubble.
Meanwhile, at Chicago's FBI headquarters, we learn that Mahone's been called off the chase so he can explain to Internal Affairs exactly why he shot Tweener last episode. I don't understand why he's so agitated -- all he has to do is say, "Look, if you had been around the kid for ten minutes... " and he's out of there. Anyway, Mahone heads in to face Agent Sullins and huffs, "Do you want to tell me why Internal Affairs is pulling me out of the field in the middle of a man-hunt?" Sullins smoothly replies, "It's been a while since we had a sit-down. Not since Shales' escape, was it?" Then he closes the door and tells Mahone they're in for a long afternoon of questioning.
And then we're off to lovely Lyman, Wyoming. Bellick and Geary walk into a bar, accompanied by a palpable miasma of failure. The bartender asks cheerily, "What can I get for you boys?" and is rebuked for his customer service efforts by Geary smacking down 40 cents and muttering, "You tell me." Bellick cadges the phone for what he swears is a local call, although the words, "Hey Mom, it's Brad. Listen, we ran into some car trouble. We were wondering if you could come pick us up?" would seem to imply otherwise. Just then, a convenient Fox "news" cast updates our would-be bounty hunters (the Bozo Fetts?) on Team Escarpara and their hijinks in Tooele, Utah. Bellick quickly tells his mom that they won't really need a ride -- just some extra money.
Back in Chicago, Dr. Sara blindly stumbles along the streets. She's still got the raccoon eyes from where her eye makeup ran, which is just a wonderful detail. When she finds a working phone booth, she calls her dad's old aide Bruce. We will all remember Bruce as the one who was issuing veiled warnings about the One World Conspiracy to Governor Dad, and is therefore probably not the first person you'll want to turn to when the One World Conspiracy is after your ass. Bruce assumes an avuncular tone and asks Dr. Sara where she is, so he can pick her up, bring her back to the office, and sort everything out. Dr. Sara tells him she's at the corner of Third and Harper. Bruce then asks, "Do you have your cell, in case I need to reach you?" Dr. Sara replies that she does, but she thought it would be tapped. Bruce assures Dr. Sara that someone's on their way; he adds, "Stay right where you are." Dr. Sara thanks him and hangs up.
Out in Kingman, Linc tries to pawn Jeannette's golf clubs and only gets $80 for the lot because, as the proprietor says, "They're ladies' clubs -- I'm guessing they're hotter than a monkey's jock strap." Do monkeys even need athletic supporters? Wait -- Linc also gets a little Igloo cooler to go with his four sawbucks.
Michael and Sucre are looking at the running water bordering the woods. Michael points out that they've got to lose the bike. Sucre is flustered by this idea, but Michael calmly overrides him, "We're not getting it across the river. Every minute we spend trying is a minute we don't have, okay? I'm sorry. We've got to move." Sucre is not happy, but he finally accedes to it.
We then transition to Sucre walking across the log, saying, "I've heard about these kind of places. They have leeches, you know." Michael says, "I'll take leeches in here over handcuffs back there." Sucre turns around and says, "That'll depend where the leech eats you, you know what I'm sayin --" The trailing "g" follows him down to water, where he's fallen in after the log he was on cracked. The log happens to have pinned Sucre's leg to an underwater hunk of debris. Michael tries to move the log, but gloomily concludes, "This thing's not going anywhere." He ducks under to check Sucre's foot, but only manages to confirm that yup, it's wedged in there pretty deeply. When he pops out of the very clean, clear, not-at-all-murky-from-leaves-or-other-debris water, it's too swim over to the grimacing Sucre and tell him, "I'm sorry, buddy. It's stuck."
Dr. Sara is cleaning herself off in an alley. As she does, a willowy woman with long, dark hair walks over to use the pay phone. She's just picked up the phone when a dark SUV slowly drives by... and the passenger shoots the lady a few times. The car speeds off into the commercials.
Speaking of those commercials, there's probably a master's thesis on the mass mobility of design trends based on a commercial block in which we have an ad for Apple computers, another for Target, and a third in which Lipton's all "Hey! Our tea comes in pyramids now! Aren't we cool?"
Whatever shock Dr. Sara went into when she watched someone else take a bullet for her... dissipated over the commercial break. She snaps into action, directing passers-by to call 911 (everyone runs from the phone, probably operating on the theory that whomever picks it up will promptly be shot) and checking the shot lady's wallet to determine that her name is Kelly. Dr. Sara immediately reassures Kelly that she's a doctor (she being Dr. Sara, as opposed to Dr. Sara saying, "It's okay! You're a doctor! I say so!") and she'll be fine. Dr. Sara tries to keep the wounds closed, and tells Kelly to "take some deep breaths and hang in there for me." Kelly dies quite prettily. Dr. Sara realizes this, then takes a look at the wallet and realizes the resemblance between herself and Kelly.
Cut to Sucre, who is up to his chin in water and asking, "It's going to be okay, right?" Does anyone else here get the feeling that Sucre was perhaps the last of his peer group to stop believing in Santa Claus? Michael grimaces. Sucre reasons, "If you can get eight people out of prison, you can get my Puerto Rican ass out of this, right?" Michael doesn't reply because he is too busy making a second-class lever out of a hefty tree branch. Unfortunately, the branch breaks. Michael screams, "Dammit!" I like that his temper frays a lot more this year than it did last year. It's about time all that stress started adding up. Just then, a klaxon sounds and Michael grins: "Did you hear that? I know that sound. It means there's a dam up there. That's a signal. It means they're opening the locks, and that means the water level's going to rise. And that means the log will float right off." Now Sucre is skeptical. Also, now there is more pressure on the situation, as the cop radio cues us all in to the cops combing the woods. Michael reasons that the cops will take about an hour to get to this particular spot in the woods, and by that time, the water level will have risen enough to free Sucre, and they'll be long gone. Sucre asks if Michael's sure, and Michael grins, "Yeah, I'm sure." I am not sure if he's grinning because he's used his engineering-fu to solve a problem, or because Sucre makes him feel like the capable big brother in any situation. I mean, as much as Michael loves Linc, it has to be a drag when your brother's all, "Yeah, thanks for breaking me out of prison. Now let me never listen to you again." Or maybe he's just grinning for Sucre because when he turns his head, there is no more smiling.
Meanwhile, back in Chicago, Mahone is being gently grilled. The delicious scent of Lying Agent fills the office as Sullins walks us all through the two Team Escarpara killings at Mahone's hands. Mahone snaps, "If you knew anything about a manhunt, you'd be out there running one, instead of hamstringing the men who are." Sullins lets that roll, and points out, "You have two dead bodies." "I've got two dead felons," Mahone counters. Sullins rehashes the Tweener shooting, and it is clear he does not buy what Mahone is selling: "You are driving along alone with a cuffed prisoner, and he reaches forward, across your chest (to your left hip) and grabs your weapon. Huh." Mahone has snapped Sullins' hands in his own without blinking, and Sullins shrugs, "It's too bad you didn't act that quickly with Apolskis. He'd still be alive." Mahone is so busted!
In another part of Chicago, Dr. Sara is crouched in an alley, trying to get her head on straight. Can you blame her, with the day she's had? She looks at Kelly's wallet again (smart of her to keep it, as the credit cards will come in handy later), then digs in her capacious bag for the haiku birds she keeps there. We see the first one -- "There's a plan to make all of this right" with its sequence of dots below.
Speaking of plans and tying up loose ends, it's the weekly Kim-n-Kellerman territory-marking incident. Kim wants to know what the origami birds have to do with anything, and Kellerman points out that Scofield sent the birds so... crack the code, they've got the lead on Scofield. He adds, "Since your brilliant plan to eliminate Sara Tancredi failed so completely --" "I wouldn't say 'failed completely,'" Kim says, and Kellerman shoots back, "There's a dead woman in a phone booth... a civilian. There's a number of bodies you can sweep under the rug. The president's rug is getting so full you can barely stand on it." Kim's polite smile straddles the line between Thanks for that insight and I will not outwardly smile when I kill you and use your skull as a drinking goblet, but rest assured, I'll be grinning on the inside.
L.J. exits a bus terminal and puts a piece of paper in his pocket. One of the approximately two dozen suits trailing him notices this and calls Kellerman to tell him, "Junior's on the move, and still no sign of Burrows." He then suggests that perhaps Linc doesn't know L.J.'s out. Kellerman impatiently snaps that Ann's story has Linc leaving to find his kid, so... not so much with that hypothesis. He adds, "If we want to make sure that (Linc) is there, we need to do something to draw him out."
Linc hunches over a roofline and watches L.J. He's panting during his vigil, possibly because his pecs need air, sweet air, and they're not getting any. We notice the world's cleanest homeless guy walk by the many, many, many anonymous sedans and stop to ask L.J. for some change. L.J. politely tells him he's tapped out. It is a credit to this kid that he manages to stay civil even when on high alert. The homeless guy continues to plead and L.J. explains, "Seriously, I just got out of lockup. I would if I could." Everyone watches this little passion play unspool. L.J. gets up to leave and the bum punches him across the face. A fracas ensues. Linc eyes the sedan, then sprints off the roof.
Back in the woods, Sucre is busy complaining, "This isn't how it's supposed to go. I was supposed to have a life with Maricruz and my baby. Now what? Get some two-bit job, always be looking over my shoulder? What kind of life is that?" Michael refrains from pointing out, "The kind that doesn't end in a few minutes if this water rises before you're freed?" Anyway, Michael mentions Panama and Sucre doom-and-glooms it some more, then grins and asks, "[Dr. Sara's] meeting you down there, isn't she?" What does it say about Sucre that when he's pinned in a likely-death situation, he's all, "And now, time to be a total Michael/Sara 'shipper"? Michael curtly points out that he and Dr. Sara have never talked about that. Sucre says, "You're hoping." Michael's all, "Can we maybe think about something else? Like the cops? Your likely death-by-drowning? Anything?"
Michael checks Sucre's leg, but the rising water still hasn't lifted the log yet. When he pops back up for air, Sucre's all, "Save yourself," and Michael says, "Just shut up. I'm not going anywhere." There's some back-and-forth, and Sucre's Catholic martyr tendencies come out in full force -- I recognize them from a childhood spent around the masters of the "Don't you mind me, I'm only getting in the way of living your life, and I wouldn't want that on my conscience" moves -- and Michael stares at the water, willing the commercials to come.
Luckily for him, they do. And they present a frightening world filled with Papa John Pizza and Jerry Bruckheimer movies.
When we get back, night has fallen on the alley where Dr. Sara is. She's still working on the origami code. Her phone rings. Bruce says, "Sara, I know we said not to use this number, but I just needed to know you were okay. My driver said he went to pick you up and the place was a crime scene." Dr. Sara sort of unspools on the phone, asking, "Bruce, who are these people. They knew exactly where I was standing, exactly where I was go --" and the penny finally drops. She clicks off her phone and throws away the battery. Fortunately, stress and betrayal cause all sorts of nerve synapses to fire and she realizes that Michael's written his message in a code that can be deciphered using the keypad of her mobile phone.
The FBI suits stride into an Arizona hospital to see how L.J.'s doing. As they cool their heels, the local constabulary walks by with the homeless guy. He's wearing cuffs and insisting, "I told you, man. Some guy paid me to (whale on L.J.)." This catches the attention of yon conspiracy stooges, who ask for more information and the homeless guy says, "It's what it sounds like. Some dude gave me $50, said (to) give the kid a beat-down." The agents quickly realize that it was Linc, because then he could break the discreet surveillance on L.J. while the kid was getting treatment.
And now, the piano plinks as we witness the father-and-son reunion. Linc closes the door to L.J.'s room and asks, "How you feeling, slugger?" L.J. rushes over to him and there's a heartfelt hug, but Linc warns him: they've got to move.
Which they do, because the shot is of the conspiracy stooges opening L.J.'s hospital room and discovering it empty. Who knew the Burrows clan could teleport? You'd think they would have used that skill earlier in the show, like when they were all cooling their heels in assorted prison cells.
And now, we're back in Utah. Bellick and Geary have just pulled up in front of Jeannette's house. He flashes his defunct C.O. badge and tells her he's on "the follow-up investigation team." You would think that Jeanette's recent experience would make her demand to see backup documentation of credentials and require a confirmation call in to a supervisor, but... no. Since she is so resistant to learning from experience, I half expect her to pick up the scent of Eau de Bad Idea off Bellick and mix him a drink while cooing sweet nothings. Bellick then asks, "Did you see if the convicts actually found what they were digging for?" Jeanette replies, "It sure sounded like they did. The Spaniard took off with one of my daughter's camping packs, and he left the others in a real tizzy, like he screwed them over something fierce." The Spaniard? What is this, 1926? Also, I cannot shake the image of Sucre wearing conquistador's armor now. Anyway, Jeanette continues a story that gives the impression that's Sucre's riding a motorcycle with a fat bag of cash in the sidecar. She adds, "that dirty southerner, he slunk out the back." She does not add, "After I had asked him to fix me up with the nearly-shirtless one." What she does say is, "He was moving kind of slow under the weight of that backpack." This detail does not go unnoticed by Bellick and Geary, and when Jeanette adds that T-Bag came back and slipped a crisp $100 bill into her bra "to cover the damages," Bellick lies about how they need that bill for evidence. And they're off! I personally cannot wait to see what happens in a Bellick/T-Bag showdown.
Cut to Dr. Sara figuring out the code. Over the few minutes, her mental effort is compared and contrasted with Kellerman's labors: he has collared a scripting geek and gotten him to make his little elves inside the computer run all the possible code combinations for the different numbers on the origami birds.
It is not yet dark on this unnamed Utah river. Sucre's still there in full martyr mode: "They say people come into your life for a reason. Maybe my reason was to help you get out of Fox River, to help you save your brother. It's okay, Papi... let me go." With all the scenery Sucre's chewing here, you'd think he can apply those choppers to the tree and gnaw his way to freedom. Michael's holding Sucre's head above the water and listening to the police radio; this is how we all learn that the cops are right near their location. And then he notices the rope swing that's on the ground by the tree. There's still plenty of rope dangling from the tree.
With new urgency, Michael tells Sucre, "I want you to hold your breath, okay?" Mister Go-Ahead-And-Leave-Already snaps, "Why?" Mister Exposition?-What-Exposition? tells him not to worry his pretty bald head. Sucre holds his breath. Michael clambers onto the tree and ties the rope around it. Then he pulls Sucre back up long enough to instruct him, "I want you to go under, and stick your arm up, above the water, high. And when you start running out of air, wave it back and forth so I can see it." Michael and Sucre clasp hands, and then Michael counts to three. Sucre goes under again, with his arm up.
The soundtrack gets percussive again, since percussion equals pressure. We see the police running around with the dogs. Michael sprints back to the motorcycle. He's carrying a coil of rope with him. He loops it around a tree, then ties the other end to the motorcycle. Michael then kick-starts the motorcycle. As he revs it up, Sucre's arm begins waving wildly. Then it sinks below the surface. Sucre's going down, down, down to the commercial break.
Oh, the Yaris commercials just keep getting scarier. Now it eats MP3 files? What, is it on the RIAA payroll?
When we get back from commercials, we see Michael zooming the cycle downhill. As he does, the rope tied to the bike uncoils and grows ever more taut. As the bike hurtles toward the river, it acts as a weight for the rope, which then yanks on the log that's pinned Sucre. The log thus lifted, Sucre is, in theory, free. That is, if Michael survived being flung into the water and Sucre survives running out of air.
Oh, who are we kidding. Of course they survive. And of course they're okay. And of course they elude the cops by running away from the river the minute approximately fifty cops show up.
In another, drier plot, Kellerman's flunky has figured out what Michael's code means, right as Dr. Sara has. The dots correspond to numbers on a mobile phone pad, so each number could mean one of three letters -- for example, the number two could mean A, B, or C. Therefore, whomever is trying to decipher a message will have to mix-and-match a few different alphabetical permutations. Both Dr. Sara and Kellerman conclude that the first bird reads "rendezvous."
Their aquatic adventure over, the boys have dried off in record time. Michael is busy buying a jalopy from a jovial salesman, telling the guy he's in the market for "four wheels and a gas pedal." Insert your own joke about needing a transmission and ignition switch here. Sucre has called his friend Petey to break the bad news about the motorcycle.
Petey has an amusingly jaded look on his face, and he says, "I was wondering when you were going to call." Now that his curiosity is sated, he can move on, eh? Sucre stalls on breaking the news and Petey misinterprets the reason Sucre's stammering, saying, "I heard! You ruined it." Sucre's confused as to how Petey could have already known about the bike: "You heard already?" Petey continues, "Everybody's heard, and let me tell you something: Hector is pissed." Sucre asks, "What does Hector have to do with it?' "It was his wedding," Petey points out. Then it finally dawns on the two guys that they're talking about totally different things, and to make a long conversation short: if Sucre was at all concerned about Petey's reaction to the bike being trashed, that is washed away in the wake of learning how Maricruz got cold feet at the altar. Petey adds, "Left Hector at the altar holding his spam in his hand." His spam? This is what I get for having a television with no closed-captioning. (Loooooong story: suffice it to say, it includes the words "four-year-old boy," "flood" and "station wagon.") But now I am intrigued by a wedding that features the caressing of pork-derived products.
Sucre skips over to Michael, who tells him, "We've got a couple of stops to make. First is this place called Blanding, and then we'll meet up with Lincoln --" Sucre whispers joyfully, "I can't go. She said no, Papi. Maricruz told that son of a -- she told him, 'No.' You got it?" Michael is happy for Sucre. Since our favorite Spaniard now has to go follow his heart -- and generate many episodes' worth of secondary plotlines -- the two end up buying their own separate cars and splitting up. Michael hands him a folded up crane and says, "This is in case you run into trouble," When did he have time to make these folded-up cranes? And how is it dry? Did they not just get out of the water? I... can't think about this too much, can I? I should just go with it, the same way I can accept that their little adventures are still taking place in daylight despite Dr. Sara sitting around at night.
We zoom over to the Bozo Fetts, who are busy musing, "If you were Bagwell, where would you go?" To the Chuck E. Cheese? Gymboree? Toys-R-Us? Actually, no. T-Bag's heading toward a flashback, wherein we revisit the reason he went to jail : Susan the spitting ex-girlfriend. She apparently lives at 1605 Midberry Hill. From across the room, Mr. sobell begins singing, "I found my ki-i-ill/ on Midberry hi-ill... "
We transition from T-Bag's face behind the wheel to Linc's. He's watching L.J. check out his stitches in the mirror. The grinning kid says, "Let me get this straight: you paid that meth-head to whip my ass?" Linc explains, "The feds were waiting for me to come get you. It was the only way." He hits because he loves -- no, wait, he subcontracts the hits because he loves. And he opens the cooler and hands Linc an ice pack so he can keep the swelling down.
Dr. Sara has managed to figure out that there's a rendezvouz at sundown at hot... something. But she's not going to get the rest of it because it's on the crane that's back at her house. And that is now in Kellerman's grubby little fingers. He looks so delighted as he opens it.
And while all of this has been going on, Sullins has been yammering away. He continues his blah-blah-blah by providing a boatload of character backstory for Mahone: grew up in an abusive home, went into the Army, was an unremarkable grunt yet somehow got into the Special Ops during Gulf War I: The Warm-Up Act, and is now sitting pretty at the FBI. Sullins muses, "I have all these dots, but there's no way to connect them." Mahone says coolly, "Looks like you need a higher clearance level." Sullins finally points out that he intends to investigate Mahone and see what's going on, and Mahone asks repeatedly, "Are you sure you want to do this?" Sullins shouts, "I know what they tell you do to overseas, Alex! But let me be perfectly clear: we do not do it on American soil!" Yeah! That's why we have Gitmo! And renditions! Those are only funded by people on American soil. Just then, Mahone is saved by the bell. A flunky comes in with a phone for Sullins and is all, "You really need to take this call," and when Sullins does, it's clear he's just been pulled off the Mahone probe. Mahone sits there and looks like he's trying not to think of his crazy pills.
Then he goes downstairs and hops into a car. And -- eee! -- it's Kellerman. Wait, I don't think I've given this the full import it deserves: MAHONE AND KELLERMAN ARE IN CAHOOTS! EEEEE! Surely, this is one of the signs of the End Times. Kellerman hands over the last bird and tells Mahone, "The numbers correlate to the letters on a phone, only on this one, all the possible combinations make no sense. We think it's a location, a rendezvous point for Michael Scofield. You find him." Mahone only replies, "You know, you could have gotten me out of there sooner." What, all of a sudden he's all sensitive? Kellerman silkily replies, "Even we have to go through channels to make sure things appear on the... up and up." Perhaps what the One World Conspiracy needs is some Kaizen consulting. Or a group ombudsman to address these bureaucratic issues. Anyway, Kellerman makes one of his famous veiled threats with, "You know what that's all about... keeping up appearances?" Rich words coming from a closet culinary case. Anyway, the whole point here is to remind Mahone -- and inform us -- that "you've been hired to do a job. The reasoning does not concern you. Don't ask any questions about us, maybe we'll continue to make sure nobody asks any questions about you. Are we clear?" Mahone turns to him and says, "They all die." Kellerman repeats, "They all die."