In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.
So there's been a lot of buzz in the news about how the Prison Break writers are all, "So, how do we stretch this out for three, four, five years?" I have the answer for them: turn it into a road-trip show, starring Kellerman, Michael and Linc. Because the three of them in one car? Comedy gold.
Car of Comedy Gold heads to Montana to pick up Steadman, because hauling the live brother of Madame President Evil before a news organization will not only exonerate Lincoln, it'll raise all sorts of awkward questions for the current Commander in Chief. Kellerman lets slip that thanks to all sorts of backstory mumbo-jumbo, the man we all know as Steadman will not, in fact, be forensically identified as Steadman. This means two things: when the cowardly Steadman offs himself rather than face up to the consequences of his actions, Car of Comedy Gold is sort of screwed. Also, the U.S. government is apparently sitting on some earth-shaking new scientific developments if they can completely eradicate mitochondrial DNA. (I covered why mtDNA can be used to identify people even with very, very small DNA samples nearly five years ago.)
In between these delightful scenes, we learn that Agent Kim is having kittens over the fact that Mahone's not dead, Kellerman's on a revenge road trip, and Lincoln Burrows still is alive. Kim recovers by throwing Mahone's kid under a car, the better to strong-arm the agent into continuing to work for the One World Conspiracy. Mahone ostensibly agrees to play ball, but given than he's just capped Agent Von Blondie (you know, the guy hailed as a hero after killing Veronica), it's just as likely that Mahone's planning on going after the One World Conspiracy too. Perhaps he can join Car of Comedy Gold.
And when we're not thrilling to the hijinks of the One World Conspiracy and their unwilling pawns, we spend a lot of time suffering through three different subplots. First up: Bellick is trying not to get killed by the same people he used to torment. This subplot confuses me, because I get the feeling I'm supposed to sympathize with Bellick, and yet I cannot help but feel that this is a case of reaping what you sow. The second subplot: C-Note's dealing with an angry brother-in-law, since nobody in the family is thrilled that Dede's gone down for aiding and abetting her fugitive husband.
Finally, the most ridiculous subplot of the night: T-Bag decides to play happy families with Susan and the kids, and it turns out a filthy, one-handed ex-con is more than capable of overpowering three people (all of whom have all their hands) and hammering the door shut while all they do is gawk. Frankly, given how well T-Bag can spin any situation to his advantage,. The Madame Evil administration would do well to track him down and hire him to figure out damage control once the Steadman story inevitably breaks. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously on Prison Break: Let's just assume y'all are all up to speed on Season One, and just review the first thirteen episodes of Season Two. Here's what happened so far: Veronica -- dead! Michael and Linc's father -- dead! Dr. Sara's father -- dead! Geary -- dead! Abruzzi -- dead! Tweener -- dead, yo! Assorted people who had the poor fortune to run into T-Bag at the wrong moment -- dead!
Also, nobody knows what has become of Haywire. T-Bag has skipped out with the $1 million -- apparently, lopping off a hand only means your remaining limbs gain superhuman strength and dexterity -- then framed Bellick for Geary's murder before heading out to repair his relationship with Susan. Dr. Sara elected not to repair her relationships with either Michael or Kellerman. Sucre is still panting after the undeserving Maricruz. C-Note just managed to get his wife arrested a few miles south of the Canadian border. The One World Conspiracy's had some personnel shake-ups -- Kellerman out, Agent Kim in -- and a few performance issues with reluctant stooge Agent Mahone. L.J. was freed from prison and is now on the run with the ever-stylish Kristin Lehmann.
And somewhere in all that, Michael's plan has continued to unravel on him and Linc has merrily busted heads when needed. Also, the brothers run. A lot. In fact, that's what they were doing when we last saw them. They were running, Mahone was running until Kellerman shot him, and now...
There is still running. Kellerman and the brothers make their way out of the tunnel, and Kellerman shouts that he knows the way out. Everyone hastily piles into his big, black Chevy Deforester (or whatever the hell it is) and Kellerman tears out of there just as the cop cars and the police helicopter arrive on the scene.
The camera quickly switches to some no-nonsense officer who's busy setting up his folks. His stream of barked orders is interrupted by the gentle chirp of a distant mobile phone. Naturally, he hears it, and it leads him to discover Mahone's slumped body at the top of the exit staircase.
The officer picks up the phone and answers it. On the other end, Agent Kim feigns confusion: "Officer Tuttle?" He quickly whirls into another room and closes the door behind him. We get a quick shot of Fox News ("Uranium Enrichment to Commence By Year! Another Crusade for Democracy to Commence Shortly After That!") and then Kim says, "I'm looking for Alexander Mahone -- I'm his direct supervisor." Officer Tuttle remorsefully says, "Your boy's been shot." It is all Agent Kim can do to keep from giggling with glee.
Meanwhile, Kellerman's SUV merrily rolls along. Michael leans over the back seat and asks, "Who are you?" Kellerman cheerfully tells him, "I used to work for the president." Linc looks alarmed by this. Michael asks, "Why are you helping us?" Kellerman decides now is not the time to go into the complex office politics at the One World Conspiracy, because there's a police blockade to get through.
The boys get down. Kellerman wheels up and identifies himself: "Federal agent. Let me through?" There's some back -and-forth and the upshot is, the diligent young square-jawed officer wants to search Kellerman's vehicle. Kellerman uncrates that tone of amiable menace we've come to know and love, and says, "No offense, but you either let me through or you get me your supervisor." Ha! Diligent young square-jawed officer is like, "How convenient, as I am a supervisor! Now let me search your vehicle." I hope he's got an extra dozen men to help canvass the Chevy Sunblockeroutter. Kellerman hops out and says, "Sergeant... Humphries? Burrows and Scofield have been loose for less than ten minutes. At this stage, every second is critical, so if you detain me, I will have all of your jobs. Do you understand me?" As he delivers this threat, Kellerman whips out a phone and pretends to be calling someone. The bluff works; the resentful officers let him through. Back in the Chevy Leviathan, Michael and Linc manage to make eye contact across the acres of floor that separate the front and back seats.
Once they're out of the roadblock, Michael says, "You still haven't answered my question." Kellerman smiles and says, "Why am I helping you? Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend." No, the enemy of my enemy is a big pile of personal drama I don't need to deal with. But I'm prickly that way. Michael goes to exchange a look with Linc, but the big lug's gone goggle-eyed. Perhaps he's agog at the wonders of riding shotgun. The poor guy has been stuck with a lot of the driving this season.
Michael persists, "You said something about taking down the president. I assume you have a plan." "I do," Kellerman says, in a cheery voice. As Michael keeps up the Scofield Inquisition, we learn that Linc is not popeyed with joy at the mere experience of riding shotgun roughly 15 feet off the ground. No -- he's having a flashback to his interactions with Kellerman, both of which were decidedly less amiable than this one. Linc gives Kellerman a searing glare, and right as I say, "Linc, please don't be so dumb as to deck Kellerman when he's driving"... Linc does.
Naturally, the SUV goes weaving wildly all over the road. For a moment, I am hopeful that this show will take the unprecedented step of veering into black comedy and killing all three men after their Chevy Cityblock rolls over a few dozen times. However, this is Prison Break, so despite SUVs' well-documented tendencies to flip over more than a team of world-class Romanian gymnasts, the vehicle stays upright with no problems. Suspension of disbelief wins again! In fact, Kellerman even manages to steer them over to a secluded dirt road. He falls out of his side of the car, Linc gets out of the other, and faster than you can say "bulging forehead veins," Linc has Hulked out and is holding a gun to Kellerman's head, screaming, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out!" Michael stands there, looking oddly detached. Kellerman says, "Because I can give you the one thing that can set you free." A lesson in how to button a shirt? But how will that help?
No, it turns out that Kellerman knows where Terrence Steadman is. He'll tell us all after the credits. And the commercials. Speaking of which -- y'all, I have the comic book that 300 is based on, and I don't think I'm spoiling anyone by advising you not to get too attached to anyone.
When we get back, Michael asks Kellerman how he knows where Steadman is. Kellerman says that he arranged the whole thing. "You arranged to set me up?" asks Linc. Kellerman blinks at the gun in his face and confirms that he did: "I was given orders, I executed those orders, and now I have a bull's-eye on my chest just like you two." Michael continues to Blue Steel. Kellerman gently pushes Linc's gun down, then whips out one of his own, telling Linc, "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You guys want to keep running, fine. You want to be free, get in the car. Last time I'm going to offer." He then pushes his sunglasses back on, turns around, and gets in. Michael watches him, seething with a mixture of envy and curiosity. He's so cool! He can turn any situation to his advantage! How can I do that?
Meanwhile, back at Fox River, we continue with the adventures of Bellick and his boomeranging karma. That Bellick is even still alive is the first implausible premise we're asked to swallow this time out; that he is not walking with a pronounced bowlegged strut is the second. (Although we do get a disturbing little shot of Avocado smirking while Bellick just looks haunted.) After Avocado drifts off, a giant mountain of an inmate calls out, "What's up, fish?" Appropriately enough, the inmate is named "Banks," as in "he is more massive than the banks of the Chicago river." After some of what passes for witty badinage in the prison yard, Banks makes a proposition: "I got what's called a mutual beneficial arrangement in my mind. I look out after you, make sure nobody get up in your knicks, and all you got to do is bring me your dessert after the meal." Frankly, given Banks's low body fat, I'm fairly skeptical that he's eaten a complex carb since 1996. I am only slightly less skeptical that all he wants is Bellick's butterscotch blondie. In an unusually subdued voice, Bellick stammers, "I'm just looking to do my time. I don't want any trouble." Banks explains that Bellick will certainly get some trouble a la mode if he doesn't deliver on the dessert promise. Bellick says belligerently, "No. Wrong guy." Banks backhands him, and Bellick goes flying across the yard. And that is how Bellick is persuaded to give Banks his dessert.
Meanwhile, in Ness City, Kansas, T-Bag is patiently explaining to Susan why "it's not me, it's the fact that you killed an entire Montessori" is not reasonable grounds for a breakup. He says, "You see, I've forgiven you. And you, in turn, can forgive me for my indiscretions, which are so far in the past, they're nothing but specks in our respective rearviews." He talks awful purdy for a man who's suffered two traumatic amputations in under two weeks. Susan backs away from him until there's nowhere to go. T-Bag caresses her face with his one good hand -- which is only slightly less creepy than if he were to pet her with his purloined prosthetic -- and he whispers, "It's been such a long time. You look lovely."
Susan tries to placate him or lead him out the back door, but T-Bag says, "Susan, I am not a Victrola, so please don't play me like one." You sure? One arm, a tendency towards tinny sounds. It's easy to get confused. T-Bag continues, "There's not a white man's chance in Harlem you'd leave your children behind." As many forum members noted, Bill Clinton would be surprised to hear that. Anyway, T-Bag continues, "When you came to Fox River, and you spat at me as if I was some kind of rabid animal" -- yes, it's the spitting I remember most from Old Yeller -- "I was happy, because such a visceral reaction could only come from a woman who still cares."
Susan says that the children don't know anything -- "I didn't want to scare them, so I never told them anything about you, so please... " So how did she explain the sudden move? More importantly, how did she get her house in such wonderful order so quickly after the move? I mean, there's art on the walls and knick-knacks arranged Just So, and given that she packed, moved, and unpacked in under three weeks, that is simply uncanny.
Anyway, T-Bag is delighted that the children have not twigged to the fact that Mom's old boyfriend has been the lead topic on Nancy Grace for ten nights running. He says, "That is just so perfect. 'Cause you see now, we got ourselves a clean slate." Or the potential for gunshot wounds, given that Susan's just opened a console drawer to reveal the firearm within.
Meanwhile, back in the Chevy Behemoth, Michael is trying to regain control of the situation, and failing: "This is the conspiracy, huh? A bunch of little boys in suits running around trying to kill each other and failing? It's pathetic." Kellerman amiably says, "Well, you were a little more formidable than we anticipated." Linc snots, "We don't need compliments out of you, jackass." Kellerman chortles, "Yes! There it is -- the winning Burrows personality!" Linc orders, "Shut your mouth and drive!" and Kellerman yaps over him, "The one we knew would really win over a jury. Good work." Michael rolls his eyes all, This guy has a comeback for every occasion. Sadly, Kellerman's mobile rings before he has a chance to begin riffing on Michael's tattoos. Kellerman makes a shushing gesture -- ha! I love it! -- and picks up with a cheery "Mr. Kim!"
Cut to a less cheery Kim asking, "What the hell is going on out there?" Well, you'd know if you bothered to 'nad up and get in the field every once in a while, wouldn't you? Kellerman blithely says that everything was touch-and-go for a moment, but he emerged smelling like the proverbial rose. Kim puts on a show of outrage with "Mahone's been shot!" Kellerman replies, "Yes, I know, Kim. I was there." That's it. I officially declare this Kellerman's episode. He owns it -- we're just watching by his fickle grace. He continues, "I saw Burrows pull the trigger. We lost a valuable asset, but --" Kim says slowly, "Mahone is alive." This news surprises Kellerman. (Well, there goes my theory that he shot to wound Mahone, not kill him. Ah, well.) Kellerman recovers with a less hale "That's good. It looked bad." Sensing that he's gained a small edge, Kim asks where Michael and Linc are. Kellerman replies, "Burrows and Scofield are dead." We cut to a shot of Michael looking confused by this news. Kellerman tries to pull the ol' I'm-getting-rid-of-the-body-now trick on Kim one more time. You'd think he would have learned his lesson from the last time he tried that. Because, again, Kim asks for visual confirmation. Why Kellerman doesn't pull over and have the guys play dead for the camera phone is beyond me, but he doesn't. Instead, he says, "You know what would be nice to hear right now, Bill? Thank you. I'll report back when they're in the ground." He clicks off and places the mobile on the dashboard. Michael says, "You leave that on, they'll trace it." Kellerman cracks himself up as he replies, "Yeah, uh, Secret Service. It's untraceable. But thanks." We cut to Michael so we can see him realize that verily, it is Kellerman's episode.
And now, the plotline few of us care about, apart from the actors in it and their families. Yes -- it's C-Note. However did you guess? We're in Mound City, Nebraska. C-Note's breaking camp, but he takes time out to lie to his little girl about where Mommy is ("She's helping a friend. We're going to see her real soon"). And then...
Well, what happens is I decide that of all the assorted subplots keeping this episode going, this is the one that will get the one-paragraph summary. Here goes:
Dede immediately calls C-Note on his crap with "I don't believe you." C-Note looks like he can't decide whether to be proud that his little girl's got a working bullshit detector, or wounded that it's working on him. He decides to table that unpleasant decision until after he calls his brother-in-law Trey. (Bring back Darius! We love Darius!) C-Note asks whether Trey's talked to Kacee, asking, "Is she all right?" Trey snaps back, "She's in jail! She's not all right. What the hell happened?" C-Note ducks the answer to that question, then says, "I want you to tell Kacee to put it all on me -- she didn't know what to do, she was scared, all that." Trey is not impressed with C-Note's self-sacrifice -- "I already told her to do all that" -- and hangs up. So C-Note decides to go play with some dolls for a while. I swear, this is not a euphemism for anything. Dede comes out of the trailer to ask if Kacee's in trouble. C-Note ducks this question too, saying, "Mommy did nothing wrong. She's helping out a friend, okay?" It is plain that he desperately wants Dede to believe this. (Rockmond Dunbar acts the hell out of this plotline; it is not his fault it is so damn tedious.) When the campsite payphone rings, he sprints over to get it. C-Note then confirms that he's the worst brother-in-law in the world by revealing to Trey that he plans on having Kacee jump bail, and they'll all head up to Alaska, where C-Note will keep them all in luxury by working in a fish hatchery. To sweeten the deal, he invites Trey along -- "You and me and Kacee and Dede, we can be a family together again. You feel me?" But what about Darius? Is he doomed to get postcards of scenic downtown Juneau with cryptic messages on the back? Some time later, there's another phone call -- Trey tells C-Note the judge denied bail and says bitterly, "Kacee's going into the system now. Aiding an escaped con -- she's looking at major time, man." This completely undoes C-Note. Choking back tears, he tells Trey, "You tell her -- I want you to tell her lawyer, tell her lawyer I'll turn myself in, okay?" Trey turns out to be the Michael Bluth of this clan, injecting some much-needed sensibility with, "You turn yourself in, Dede won't have either of you. She'll go into foster care." We get a great, eloquent expression from C-Note -- it is tearing him apart that he has to balance the competing needs of the two people he loves most in the world, and his role in all this only makes the whole situation more bitter. Keeping up that streak of extreme sensibility, Trey tells C-Note, "I'm going to hang up this phone right now, because I might say something I'll regret. You just take care of Dede." He clicks off, and C-Note's left to figure out what he'll do in the episode.
Now, back to the rest of the show... Kellerman's Chevy Biomecrusher pulls up at what appears to be a private airport. As everyone heads into a hangar, a pilot comes out of a small plane and checks his watch. Kellerman assures them, "I'll do the talking," then confirms with the pilot that he is indeed Owen Kravecki. That's my boy! Now where was this planning back when he was dealing with Dr. Sara? Kellerman then introduces Michael and Lincoln as "Ben and Phil" and adds, "Let's get it going before our wives figure out this is a fishing trip." Sadly, neither Michael nor Lincoln gathers enough wits to add, "Whatever you say, Ennis." Instead, they are too busy being freaked out. Eventually, the guys get on the plane.
We then zoom over to Albuquerque, land of many fine hospitals. This one happens to have Agent Mahone resting comfortably in a bed. That ends shortly: Agent Von Blondie -- whom many of you will recall fondly as Veronica's assassin -- pops into view and says, "Glad you're awake." He doesn't seem glad. Mahone was shot in the rotator cuff -- six inches to the right and he'd have been dead. Mahone, however, is wincing. Perhaps his dream of dominating the Masters' circuit in butterfly stroke has just died. Agent Von Blondie hands over the phone -- it's Agent Kim. That'll set his recovery back.
Kim says brightly, "You're a lucky man." "Am I?" Mahone replies. "Kellerman finished the job you couldn't. He, unfortunately, is still out there. He's a loose end you were supposed to take care of." Mahone chuckles darkly before informing Kim that Kellerman is such a loose end, he's the one popping federal agents at carefully planned melees. Mahone concludes, "The guy you wanted to double-cross screwed you first." Kim feigns shock. "Scofield and Burrows?" he asks. "Are probably alive," Mahone replies, apparently not lucid enough to realize that Kim's roping him back into a knotty little situation vis-Ã -vis Team Escarpara. Wait, wait -- I just gave Kim too much credit. When Mahone says blurrily, "[Burrows and Scofield] are on the run with Kellerman," Kim seems legitimately surprised by the news. As the camera pulls in tight on Kim's face, some out-of-focus underling in the background says impotently, "We neutered Kellerman. He doesn't even exist anymore." Kim looks legitimately dismayed as he whispers, "He knows everything."
Commercials. You know, in my house growing up, we weren't even allowed to answer the phone during dinner. If someone had tried bringing a mobile to the table, they probably would have been forced to eat it, Verizon.
Once we come back, we're in a new location -- the fantastic imagination of Thomas Kincaid, Painter of Lightâ¢. No, wait, we're in Montana, at Terrence Steadman's swanky secluded spread. The poor man. He suffers so -- in addition to living in a setting as dreamed by Thomas Kincaid, Painter of Lightâ¢, Steadman must also endure a non-stop stream of Fox "News." This explains why he doesn't take the news of Lincoln and Michael's most recent escapades well. As Steadman strides through room after well-appointed room, he snarls, "I was supposed to have my life back by now! Playing ball, renting movies, seeing people... but because you guys can't get a handle on an engineer and a petty crook, I've been a ship in a bottle for over three years." What a whiner! Who among us has not dreamed of having the chance to escape daily life and spend three years in a bucolic setting, clad in pajamas and stoned to the gills on really great drugs?
And we're back in Albuquerque, where Mahone is sitting upright, in a nice clean white shirt. The hospital will probably charge him $236.99 for it. Agent Von Blondie comes in and says that Kim has ordered Mahone to finish the job -- presumably, that means killing Lincoln, Michael, and Kellerman. Mahone tells Von Blondie to get bent. He says, "Kim and Kellerman can try to kill each other all day long. But I'm out." Agent Von Blondie makes a threatening murmur in re: Oscar Shales and Mahone shoots back, "Go tell the world about Shales! In fact, I will. I killed a predator who tortured and raped women, and I buried him in my back yard. I'll do the time. I don't care anymore! I'm out." Agent Von Blondie is not happy about this.
Meanwhile, back in Fox River, the music of impending dessert violence plays as Bellick lumbers through the lunch line. He sets his tray down on a table, carefully wraps the brownie in a napkin for presentation. That detail absolutely kills me, and just goes to show how tremendously thorough Wade Williams is in fleshing out Bellick as a character. Anyway, Bellick brings his brownie over to his new BFF and silently hands it over. Banks chews it and says, "Mmm! Now that is delicious." Bellick silently turns to go, and Banks stops him with, "Now hold on! We got a problem. It's one brownie. What about my boys? You see the position you put me in? They got to stand there with their stomachs growling while I savor this delicious treat. That makes me look like a real ass." Bellick does not suggest that Banks could have split the delicious treat six ways and given everyone as little bit, perhaps because his survival instincts are more finely honed than mine. Banks unfolds himself and looms over Bellick, asking, "Are you trying to make me look like an ass?" Bellick -- who has been avoiding Banks's eye contact the whole time -- snivels, "You said the deal was I was only supposed to bring you one dessert." Banks replies, "Well, I'm fickle, bitch. Now it's five desserts, every meal." Bellick looks dangerously close to angry, humiliated tears. Banks runs his fingers through Bellick's chest hair and says, "If you can't come up with that, there are other ways to make me happy." Bellick does not reply, "By re-enacting the waxing scene in The 40 Year-Old Virgin?"
Instead, he says that he's got some other candy in his pocket. It's pain candy, in the form of a sap. He quickly takes out Banks, then walks off as the COs all dither around the fallen giant.
And now we are back in Kansas, looking at Susan's photo albums. T-Bag is hurt that Susan has elected to remove him from her scrapbooks. Then he says, "I'm just teasin', baby. Every woman has burned the photographs of her paramour, only to later realize her love burns even hotter than the flames she used." Or, if you're me, to realize that there's no better way to handle a breakup than by roasting s'mores over the smoldering cache. Two graham crackers, a Hershey square and sweet, toasty, marshmallowy catharsis. Delicious!
Right then, the kids come home. Boy, are they happy to see him. And T-Bag seems happy to see them too, asking the girl, "You still getting more As than an aardvark?" The son, Zach, asks, "What are you doing here? Mom said you got a job on an oil rig?" T-Bag is delighted by this lie, because he can now use it to explain the stump ("Got myself injured") and his fat bag of cash ("The good lawyers at Dewey Cheatham & Howe got me a million bones for every digit I lost"). While this is going on, Susan eyes the table where she's stashed the gun. T-Bag heads her off and tells everyone, "With all that cash, that means I can do anything I want, and all I want to do is spend all my money, and all my time, with you." The kids beam idiotically, completely oblivious to the neon signs indicating that their mother is about to jump out of her skin with terror.
And now, Prison Break gives us Cutback Mountain. I wish I knew how to quit you, unwieldy conspiracy plotline! Kellerman and the boys have landed. Michael asks what the neighborhood's like, and Kellerman tells him, "There's no neighborhood. The house sits on 50 acres." And on it goes -- they'll go out by a different road than they went in, and there will probably be guards. Lincoln grumbles, "The second I feel this thing going bad, you get a bullet in the head." Kellerman dismissively replies, "I'd expect nothing less."
Back in D.C., Kim is on the receiving end of an angry phone call from someone. An underling comes in and tells him that there's a private jet headed to Montana, booked by one Owen Kravecki. Lee smarms, "Stop it from taking off." "It's already on the ground, sir," the guy replies. I get the feeling that everyone in the One World Conspiracy is regarding the latest developments with mixed feelings: on the one hand, it's a pisser to have your life's work undone by an engineer and a petty criminal. On the other, isn't it fun to keep ruining Kim's day? Some of those guys have probably dreamed of that moment for years.
And then we cut to a pacing Steadman. His handler is getting the news that it's time to am-scray. He asks Steadman if he could maybe put a jacket on over his PJs before they go outside, and Steadman snaps, "I don't want to leave. I want to talk to my sister." His handler shuts that right down. Terrence says stiffly that he'll need to get his dolls, his beautiful dolls, and his handler's like, "We roll in five minutes."
Then they're out the door. Steadman asks pissily if he gets to know where he's going, and the handler's like, "After you're there, sure." Steadman heads out with another agent as the handler's phone rings. He answers; it's Kim saying, "We need to move Steadman to location B. We're sending a car to pick him up." A black sedan screeches up to the front step, and the handler replies, "It's already here, sir."
Cut to Kim's eyes bugging out as his no-good, very bad day turns horrible. As he says, "It couldn't be. The car just left... " we fade to Kellerman popping out of the sedan with his gun fixed on Steadman, shouting, "Weapons down! Weapons down!" We fix on Steadman's shell-shocked expression -- he's gone tharn, as Hazel and the boys would say -- and then we go to commercials.
Commercials. You know what movie I'd pay to see? One in which Thomas Harris and John Grisham are forced to duel to see who has flogged the same premise to death in more movies. Obviously, the winner would face down Michael Crichton in the sequel. (And obviously, I will not be seeing Hannibal Rising.)
We get back, still fixed on a disoriented Steadman. Maybe it's the act of putting on pants for the first time in three years that's thrown him. As Kellerman keeps his gun on both agents, Linc grabs Steadman by the jacket collar and yanks him toward the sedan, growling, "You look good for a dead man."
The handler still has Kim on the line -- thank you, Bluetooth headpiece! -- and Kim is all, "Do not let [Kellerman] escape! Kill Steadman, kill them all now!" Kim is in the wrong line of work. Not only is he easily rattled, his mass-murder impulses would be better suited to life as a cult leader. Anyhoodle, the handler goes for his gun, but Kellerman is awesome and promptly drops both men. Michael -- remember him? Ostensible protagonist of the series? Occasionally appears in plotlines on this show? -- looks even more rattled. Steadman begins babbling, "Paul, please, don't kill me!" Nobody's listening to him. Linc shoves him in the car and they take off.
Back in Albuquerque, Mahone has just learned that vomiting is the worst side effect of anesthesia. And now so have we. The nurse says, "That should actually be the last of it by now," and Mahone quips, "Oh, you figure I'm on empty?" Nice moment. Anyone here suppose it gives us a hint of what Mahone was like before the One World Conspiracy pulled him into their icy clutches? And anyone here suppose that the mobile phone ringing on the table is going to tell us all that Mahone's relief is short-lived?
It's Pam: their son was just in a hit-and-run auto accident, and his leg was broken in two places. Mahone assures her he'll be on the plane to Colorado. Pam is totally melting down, and it's rattling Mahone -- "Pam! Please -- keep it together until I get there. Can you do that for me?" He packs up to go, and the nurse is all, "Hello, gunshot wound? Not a good time to travel?" But Mahone will not be deterred. He heads out and tries to flag down a taxi -- only to be stopped by Agent Von Blondie, who casually asks, "How's your boy? Tib-fib fractures are bad, but if the growth plate's affected, there's a whole host of problems." Mahone gets up in Von Blondie's face and growls, "You made a mistake." Von Blondie begs to differ -- "You think you can just quit? Like you work at a post office?" There's a big long stare-off, and it's evident that if looks could kill, Von Blondie would be leading this recap's title -- DEAD!
Meanwhile, Agent Kim is busy coordinating a massive recovery effort while managing to go nowhere near the field. How does he do that?
And now, four men in a hotel room. What could possibly go wrong? Michael is musing that with a camera, they could get a photo of Steadman holding a current newspaper. Kellerman punctures that with, "It'll prove we found a guy who looks kind of like the president's brother." Michael rebuts, "Fingerprints, dental records." "We whitewashed them. We pulled his teeth and burned off his fingerprints." Michael says, "DNA." Kellerman explains, "To compare against the homeless guy we killed and put in Steadman's car. But we destroyed all exterior DNA samples so there'd be nothing to compare them to." Michael does not snap, "Mitochondrial DNA, which is passed down through the mother's side and will therefore be easily compared to President Reynolds' mtDNA." Boy, is he going to be sorry he spent so many evenings planning a prison breakout and so few watching CSI. Michael fumes, "There's got to be someone, somewhere, who can identify this man." Kellerman says, "Which is why we did the surgery. Cheekbones raised two centimeters, ears lowered a quarter of an inch. Not so much that someone who knew him wouldn't recognize him, but any forensic comparison to a photograph of that man would conclude that he is a look-alike, a hoax. Trust me -- we're very good at what we do."
Michael walks over to Steadman, who pops up and pleads, "Please, just let me go." Michael looks down from his high horse and decrees, "You made every man in this room a prisoner, including yourself. You let us go." Steadman starts the downer monologues. Kellerman snaps, "Cut the act! He was more than happy to play along when he was lining his pockets with taxpayer money funneled through EcoField, and then, when the indictment is about to fall, who do you come running to for help, Terrence?" Steadman fumes. Kellerman decides they're all going to hang out for a day or two until everyone's convinced they're a thousand miles away. Then they're off to DC!
Michael skeptically asks whether bringing Steadman to the epicenter of the One World Conspiracy is a good idea. Kellerman tells him DC also has "government agents still in power who've been working from the inside with your father. People who can get that pain in the ass to safely tell his story on the record." Michael says, "We'll stroll right into the lion's den and pray we don't get mauled." Bold words coming from someone tagged "Pretty" the minute he strolled into prison. Kellerman cheekily says, "I don't think they're going to come to Montana, Scofield, so we're going to go to them."
Then we zip to Kansas, where T-Bag and his ready-made family are sacked out in front of the TV watching cartoons. T-Bag appears to have showered and blow-dried his hair. I will not pretend to understand how he could have managed this feat while also keeping an eye on Susan and the kids. Susan tries to get away by claiming she's off to make more popcorn, but T-Bag's on to her, and he says, "Honey, if any of us could eat any more popcorn, I'd be a-MAZED." Then he turns to Gracie and says, "See what I did there? The Indian word for corn is 'maize,' and I just said 'a-MAIZE-d.'" And wow, is it creepy to see T-Bag wooing a little girl in front of her own mother. ["Also, don't pimp your own puns, it's tacky." -- Sars] But Gracie only sees it as attention, so she plays along: "I don't get it. I'm CORN-fused." T-Bag's delighted. He strokes Gracie's face while telling her she's smart, and Susan decides it's time to spill her drink.
She heads off to get a rag, T-Bag hot on her trail. When Susan goes to grab the gun in her drawer, T-Bag says, "I thought we were wiping the slate clean." Apparently, Susan's firearm also doubles as a cleaning aid. Who knew? Also, who knows how T-Bag managed to grab it without anyone noticing? Anyway, now is the time for the airing of the grievances, and it turns out T-Bag has a lot of them. The kids finally twig to something being wrong, and Zach gets up and very stealthily sneaks over to the doorway, holding up his skateboard. He calls, "Mom?" and T-Bag cuts short his harangue to go command Zach to get his ass back on the couch. Zach decides he'd rather deliver a skateboard to T-Bag's face. T-Bag falls onto the dining room table, but he's still holding the gun. Susan shrieks that Zach needs to get Gracie and go. And then there's a big, messy schmaz: T-Bag wallops Susan and goes running toward the door, then somehow summons the strength to fling the kids away from the door and block it, all while still holding on to the gun. T-Bag is on the wrong show: he needs to be on Heroes as the guy who manages to turn the odds in his favor all the time.
Anyway, on this one, he's the dude who happens to be blocking the front door and holding a gun on everyone. T-Bag says angrily, "I gave y'all a chance. Remember that."
Meanwhile, back at Fox River, Avocado is busy telling Bellick that the good news is, everyone thinks he's crazy. The bad news is, Banks is the last eloquent man-mountain anyone wants to be messing with. The even worse news is, that conversation was Avocado's idea of foreplay: he tells Bellick, "Hey, you know, I've just been tested." Bellick snarls, "Yeah, well, test results just came back. The top bunk's mine now. You got a problem with that?" Not at the moment, he doesn't.
Just then, Stolte the C.O. comes over to have another iteration of the good news-bad news-worse news conversation. The good news: Karma is alive and well. The bad news: Banks is connected with the night guards. The worse news: Because none of the night guards want to be working that shift and Bellick is the one who put them there, they are more than okay with pulling Bellick from his cell so Banks can extract revenge. What? I didn't say the good news had to be Bellick's good news. I thought we could be cheered by proof that what goes around comes around.
Off in Montana, Kellerman's busy making travel plans for the gang -- they'll head up to Canada via Montana, cut across that lovely country until they get to New York, then head back into the States again. Steadman snickers and sing-songs, "The borders won't be a problem. Not at all." Kellerman gets unexpectedly touchy and asks, "Is this fun for you?" Steadman replies, "No, no, this isn't fun. What was fun was when Caroline and I would talk about you and the schoolboy crush you had on her." Steadman turns to Michael and says snidely, "He proposed to her. Hee hee hee! You actually thought that you would be First Husband. The serf who would be king?" I can think of no one better for the role. Imagine how the annual White House Easter egg roll would go once Kellerman was put in charge! Caroline Reynolds, it is all your loss. Steadman keeps snickering -- presumably to drown out Kellerman's rebuttal that the upside to Caroline's decision is that it spared him the irritation of Steadman as a brother-in-law. Linc is not laughing. He surges from the bed, grabs Steadman by the throat, and pushes him against the wall. He screams, "You stood there and watched them kill Veronica!" Linc then whips out a gun and holds it to Terrence, yelling, "You did nothing! She died because of you!" Kellerman now has his gun on Linc, but it doesn't appear to be an effective deterrent. Steadman looks from Linc to Kellerman and realizes his life's in the hands of the person he was just mocking. Ah, karma.
And then we go to commercials. Those Apple commercials don't really work on me because I find John Hodgman simply adorable. If I get a Windows machine, I have an adorable experience? Is that the message here?
We get back from commercials. Kellerman makes his first strategic error of the night: he tries to use logic on Linc, telling him, "Terrence has no identity and he has no strategic value to us dead. If you kill him, he's just a John Doe." Michael gives Kellerman a look like, You think appealing to delayed gratification or invoking logic works? Then he steps in and tries to smooth over the situation, pleading, "Linc, we're so close."
Linc does not care. He has his gun shoved into Steadman's jaw, and he asks, "Was it worth it, killing those people? Ruining my life?" Kellerman snaps, "Scofield, get a handle on your brother." Michael snaps back, "Shut up! You're not helping. Not helping!" And OH MY GOSH, how much do I love this scene? The tension is up to ELEVEN! The guys are all bringing it! Michael finally gets everything under control by saying calmly, "Linc, you don't want to do this. Trust me, you don't want to do this. Okay? Trust me?" Because Linc does, he stands down. Steadman is still pinned against the wall; I trust his own fear-induced urine has glued him there.
Linc slumps on the bed, muttering brokenly, "So many people dead. And he gets to live." Michael sighs, all, YES, I know! It SUCKS, okay?
And now comes the part in the episode where T-Bag -- the one man with the one hand -- has somehow managed to keep three two-handed people subdued long enough to go get lumber and a set of tools, then nail several two-by-fours into the doorframe surrounding the front door. I stop whimpering over the damage to the lovely woodwork long enough to wonder why Susan and her kids don't either just go out the back door, slip out a window or, oh, I don't know... call the police while T-Bag is otherwise occupied with his carpentry. And then I wonder why I bother wondering anything about T-Bag's storylines because it's evident they're not grounded in Earth logic, so I can't possibly comprehend the thinking of the space ambassadors who write his plots.
As he works, T-Bag says, "My daddy wasn't really in the picture much when I was growing up, so I never really learned the art of carpentry. But I figure Jesus was a carpenter, and his daddy wasn't around to teach him, so I taught myself." Cut to Susan, wondering which schism led to the theological conclusion that T-Bag's currently advocating. T-Bag finishes up and says, "Over time, I got to be a pretty good swinger of the hammer. Now, the good news is... I am here for good. Make no mistake about it. We will be a family if it kills us."
Back in Montana, Steadman is looking at a wretched little painting on the wall of the motel. It depicts a little blonde girl sitting in the grass with her brother. He sniffles and says moistly, "That's so sweet." Linc and Michael look at him disgustedly. It's not bad enough that Steadman is directly responsible for wrecking their lives and ending many others -- he has to have horrible taste in art too?
Kellerman pops back into the room to tell everyone, "The car's out front. Let's get covered up and move out." Then he heads over to Michael and tells him sotto voce, "When we're in the car together, you're going to have to keep your brother in check." Michael replies, "You don't know him." Kellerman says, "I'm getting my gun from him. We don't have time for this." As he heads off, Michael says, "You still think you're running this show, don't you?" Who does Michael think he is with that sentence construction, Horatio Caine? Kellerman coolly says, "You still think I'm not?"
Well, Michael will show him. He picks up the phone and calls to get the number for Channel 11 news. What do you know? It works! Kellerman's all, "What are you doing? This is not the plan! Hang on." Anyway, Michael calls the station, tells them he's in Room 11 at the Cutback Motel, and he'd like to turn himself in.
Meanwhile, back in Fox River, night has fallen and Banks is calling for Bellick to dance with him. Oh, Brad. Let him lift you off the ground. There's starry skies, and love is all around. Banks will taken you where you want to go. And now, since the door to his cell has just slid open, Bellick is able to take himself someplace he'd want to go. I suspect his preferred destination is Banks-less. We'll see week if he gets there.
Back at the One World Conspiracy headquarters, Agent Kim's putting in a long day. His mobile rings, and it's Mahone. The other agent says, "I just wanted you to know that I'm going back to work." Kim grins and says, "Good. So I take it you got my message?" Mahone says, "Oh, yeah. Loud and clear." Then we pull back to see him pop the trunk of his car and -- OH MY GOSH! Agent Von Blondie is in the back. We can only suppose Mahone's heading off in search of a birdbath, then hopping a late-night flight to Colorado.
Back at the hotel, Steadman is begging Michael not to do this. Michael says civilly, "I'm sorry, Terrence, but it's too late. The press is already on their way." He turns to Lincoln and Kellerman and says, "You can put the guns away." The boys do. Steadman continues to panic, and Michael's not moved by his worry. So Steadman acts: he grabs Linc's gun and holds it on everyone. He says, "Sorry, everyone. I'm leaving."
Michael tries to reason with him, but Kellerman's more direct: "All we need is your mouth. I will shoot out both your knees right now." I wish he would have actually just shot first, pointed out the logic behind the shooting later. Because now Steadman's all, "I've never liked you, Paul. I won't hesitate to take your life!" Again -- if this were really true, wouldn't it make more sense to shoot first, share reasoning second?
Again, Michael tries to reason with him: "Terrence, listen to me. Terrence, for once in your life, do the right thing. So many people have suffered because of this, because of you. When the press get [sic] here, you can tell the truth. You can end this." Unfortunately, Michael has forgotten that he's dealing with a man so pathologically self-involved, he signed off on a cover-my-ass plan that required the deaths of lots of other, uninvolved people. So it's no surprise when Terrence says, "Where does it end for me? Disgrace? Life in prison?" Michael argues that Terrence is already in prison, then asks angrily, "How many more people have to die so you can stay locked up in some cabin in the woods? It's over."
Steadman looks at the implacable faces of the three other men in the room and comes to his decision. He says, "Okay." Then, a second later, "Sorry." And then, he becomes the first person on this show to blow off his own head to spite his face.
The three other guys are appalled. Not because they mourn Terrence the person, but because the craven little shit has just ensured that they're all hosed now. Boys, boys -- stop it! Just grab some of Steadman's hair and blood, then get mitochondrial DNA testing done. Instead, Kellerman says, "We've got to go... we have nothing." Michael adds, "All we've got is a John Doe." And, I would add, a lot of new friends in the local law enforcement community. They're all coming now.