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So here is the thing that amuses me about this show: Scofield takes one to the kisser, yet there's never a mark on him. Someone else gets sliced with the sharp edge of an envelope; he's sporting a gash for all of sweeps.
I bring up this observation because this is the second episode in a row in which Michael is punched in the face, yet he is still model-pretty. How does Michael come to be beaten up again? Here's how...
He spends the episode running a series of crude yet ingenious field tests to determine if the guards have any blind spots and when those lapses in coverage might occur. In order to observe the guards, Michael has stolen a pair of binoculars from another inmate and snapped them in half; he takes one piece, and Whistler shares the other with Mahone. When the light glints off the lens of Michael's improvised telescope, the guard in the tower confuses it for a rifle scope, everyone storms Sona, and Michael 'fesses up to having the lens. When he can't explain why he was watching the guard, the punches begin. Whistler jumps in with an explanation, wildly improvising that it wasn't Michael doing the watching, but Whistler, because he's desperate to continue identifying the avian fauna around Sona. This is how Michael sees that Whistler's got the bird book back.
Meanwhile, Mahone's officially a junkie now, and he's started a tab with T-Bag. This is not going to end well. However, when he's not off emulating a Darren Aronofsky antihero, Mahone's actually proving useful in that he manages to ID a blind spot that the would-be escapees can use when they make their bold daybreak escape in an episode or two.
Speaking of T-Bag...trust him to end up getting a little hetero action in a prison filled with men. When the soldiers descend, T-Bag is given the job of hiding Lechero's stash and his mistress. He does so by channeling his inner eighth-grader and cramming into the closet with Sister Magdalen. Faster than you can say "smooth talker," T-Bag's found himself a solution to the Madonna-whore complex in one person. It's too bad she's still Lechero's mistress, but given that Lechero can't pay her anymore, we'll see if she starts seeing other hoods.
One final Sona note: there's a new guy in Sona who thinks he knows Whistler from diplomatic circles. When New Guy blurts this out in front of Mahone and Michael, Whistler realizes that nobody is buying his humble-fisherman act.
Finally, on the outside...Linc and Sofia tool around looking for the perfect pick-up spot for the planned jail break. And they show off a whole lot of chemistry while they're doing it. Is that wrong? Wrong is Sucre agreeing to be a drug mule into Sona. Wrong is not Linc and Sofia totally sizzling together. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Night has fallen over Sona, and the prison is quiet. I bet it would be -- all it takes is Lechero or Sammy having a poor night's sleep because someone can't keep the snoring down, and someone wakes up to the sensation of a chicken foot being crammed down his throat. Or perhaps some of the bad-asses tried sleep-killing and that's put the fear into any insomniacs.
Amend that: all the insomniacs but one. Michael been tossing bits of chocolate into no-man's land, leading the world's most adorable rat further into a lighted patch on the ground. We get a minute to marvel at the winsome vermin -- its fur so clean and shiny! Its little pink nose wriggling in delight as it holds the chocolate in its wee tidy hands! Its shoe-button black eyes positively sparkling in a way that suggests it's but a moment away from introducing itself as Papillion, The Rat Who Befriends Prisoners...and then we see its little red insides as the guards spy it and shoot it for sport.
Michael looks appalled. I would like to think that's because he shares my unfortunate habit of anthropomorphizing anything, but I suspect it's because he's like, Crap. I will not get two feet into that yard before I'm taken out. Anyway, let's pause and give Scofield big ups for devising a low-cost assessment test in admittedly tough field conditions.
Day breaks over Sona, and we see inmates going about their business and providing handy foreshadowing for later: one guy snoozes to a pair of binoculars, another heats something up in his microwave, more dudes play cards. As the guards open the gate, a lone paper cup comes fluttering in on the wind. Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it. Mahone comes over and picks up the cup. He looks like hell -- you're telling me there's no way the man's managed to find a comb in Sona? Come on, throw us a bone here! And not because Mahone tying one in his hair is the quarter-turn on his downward spiral.
Mahone heads over to the brooding Michael and says, "J.P. Morgan had a formula for success: rise early, work hard...strike oil." Michael rolls his eyes. He sighs that he's just trying to get some water. Mahone dryly notes, "As a devoted student of your work and skills, I really looked forward to progress on your plan, Michael." Scofield snaps, "I'm looking forward to you getting off my back." Before this can deteriorate into outright hair-pulling, the two are distracted by the arrival of a new inmate. He is dressed like something out of the J. Crew catalog. Eh, that's only a temporary state.
Sure enough, Sammy rolls on over to the new inmate -- one Andrew Tyge -- and asks for his wallet. Tyge does the ol' "Whatever you're speaking, I no understanding" routine, and within seconds, he's out his wallet, his center of gravity, and whatever blood that happened to fly out of his body when Sammy administered his trial-sized beating. Bellick is like, Perhaps I can make a new prison friend. Michael looks appalled. Mahone turns away from the spectacle and says tightly, "I'm so ready to get out of here any time you are." Fortunately, Michael's visit from Linc saves him from having to come up with yet another comeback.
He heads out, and Linc comments that Michael appears not to be sleeping well. Michael shares the results of his rat test. Linc shares the news about Susan B. getting the bird book, and Michael gloomily concludes, "We have no leverage." Then he sharply asks, "Tell me something: when you were handing over the book, did you ask for a recent photo of L.J. and Sara?" Linc lies that he sure did, but he wasn't allowed to keep it. He protests, "I'm not in a position to bargain with these people -- they're pissed! You break out tomorrow. Let's focus on that. Let's keep on track." Michael reluctantly agrees. He tells Linc to handle the details with regard to getaway vehicles, then breaks the news that he'll be breaking out tomorrow afternoon. "I ran some tests last night. Military jeeps patrol the perimeter at night. There's no way of telling where they're going to be in the dark," he explains. Linc protests, "We need the dark. We can't --" "JUST! Please..." Michael interrupts, visibly pulling himself together. The break's on for the middle of the day, and Michael's not in the mood to hear counterarguments. As he walks back, we see his hands moving around an invisible box (oh, Lord, that'll open the door to LOL Scofield -- "Invisible Cell!" "My tattoos...let me show you them") and I like to think that he's mentally assembling some component for the escape.
As with Bellick before him, Tyge has been stripped down to his skivvies. Unlike Bellick, however, Tyge's wiry and wearing boxers, so it's a little less of a hardship, aesthetically speaking. Michael heads back into the courtyard, now fidgeting, and Tyge perks right up to watch him with interest. Mahone notices this. We then see that the reason Tyge's so interested is because Michael's standing around and chatting with the real object of Tyge's attention -- Whistler. Tyge insists that he knows Whistler. We flash to Mahone channeling a bit of the ol' Season Two intensity. Ooooh, this could get good.
The credits roll, we have a brief pause where the commercials would go were I not watching this on iTunes (and thank you, FOX, for having the brains to recognize that modern TV watchers are beginning to demand control of where, when, and how they watch TV shows), and then we're back to the Sona courtyard. A few inmates are holding an extremely improvisational soccer practice. Michael is chatting up Splenda, asking him to rustle up two watches. Splenda takes Michael's cash and sighs, "I'm not even going to ask why." Smart boy. Michael asks about binoculars, and Splenda directs him to the snoozing Guillermo's cell.
Michael steels himself to lift the binoculars. It's so cute how, even after two seasons of assorted misdeeds, he's got no stomach for violating any kind of social contract. We then see him having a sit-down with Whistler in a tidy cell. Michael pulls up the floor rug and grabs something with which to write. As he sketches on the ground, he explains, "We're leaving tomorrow. This is how we're getting out of Sona: we're getting out of the cellblock. That shouldn't be a problem: the grate and the bars are weak. But we're going to need some kind of rope, some kind of ladder to let us down to the other side. That's why I figured out the safest line from here to the hole in the fence. We do it in the day, we'll only be visible to the two guard towers. The perimeter guards are less predictable, but they're only on at night." Whistler asks, "Scurrying across a field in the middle of the day?" Michael explains that it's the only way to avoid the Jeep patrol outside the perimeter. Whistler gives Michael a measuring look. Michael goes on explaining that they'll time to breakout for 2 PM, when the prisoners' soccer game provides some distraction. He pins his hopes on one guard who's got a glare problem in the afternoon. Whistler notes that it's not much of a break. Michael concedes that and throws down his writing implement. He then broods over the second guard: "His weakness has yet to be determined." Michael then trains the binoculars on the guard and intones, "If we're going to get around these guys, we've got to get to know them." Going by what he sees in the binocs, I'm going to guess that the guard really likes his gun. Start from there and build out, Scofield.
Meanwhile, on the outside...we get a shot of beautiful Panama City, and then of Linc and Sofia holed up in their hotel, completely missing out on beautiful Panama City. They are studying a map and dickering over the best place to plant the getaway vehicle. There's something different about Linc in this scene...could it be that he's not covered in the flop sweat of the well-intentioned liar? No...could it be that he hasn't hit anyone in several consecutive scenes? No... Oh! I have it! He's wearing a t-shirt! And thus his face is not bathed in the usual glow of the ambient light reflecting off his gleaming bare chest. That's why he looks so different. Anyway, his mobile rings and it's Susan B. She's lounging in a café and leisurely carping on Linc over Michael's timeline. Then she tells Linc that once Whistler's free, she'll need to see him ASAP. As she relays this demand, we see a fragment of what she's writing on a pad: "Stampede. Monument @ 12:21 ... @ 12:24 ... @ 12:29 ... ERC." Linc blithers on about how he's still working on the post-prison part of the plan and his voice begins rising, but the multitasking Susan B. has no sympathy. She snaps, "Lincoln, calm down. Sounds to me like you and your brother are in over your heads." We pause to see Linc rub his forehead in the universal sign of weary irritation. Back to Susan B., who gives a very funny look around before cracking, "There's a bad joke about Sara in there somewhere." Okay, that made me dislike her a little less. Linc lowers his voice and promises to call once all the details are in place, adding, "I want this to work out just as badly as you do." Susan amends, "More, I'm sure."
And now...it's the return of plotlines that only deserve a paragraph. Displaying the same talents for misreading a situation and getting in over his head that led Sucre into prison in the first place, Michael's hetero life partner is now the new drug mule into Sona, courtesy of Lechero's cousin Augusto. Sucre's getting $5000 per trip (he hides the stash in a crate of food), but given that Lechero and Augusto are already at loggerheads, and that Sucre's tight with Michael, I can't imagine this is going to end well. Sucre, however, is thrilled -- he remembers his five-times tables and so can actually keep track of how much dirty money is piling up.
Back in Sona, Tyge is making his morning toilette at the water spigot which Michael so recently unclogged. Bellick comes on over. I am temporarily distracted by the fact that Bellick's wearing the same tight t-shirt and doesn't appear to be in pain. Wouldn't that rag be sticking to the second- and third-degree burns he got courtesy of Lechero's coffee klatch? Am I the only one who remembers that happening? Anyway, Bellick warns Tyge off the faucet, noting that polluting the drinking water will not make him popular and adding, "In Sona, it's every man for himself. Here. Cheese." First of all, that cheese looks disgusting. Second of all: Tyge looks like he hasn't actually ingested any lipid molecules in a decade; why would he start now? Tyge asks, "I saw the other Americans. So none of you call the embassy, eh?" Bellick sidesteps the real answer with, "Us gringos ain't all butt-buddies." In the background, Michael is fiddling with two watches. He notices Tyge watching him. By the way, Tyge just took the cheese.
Michael whisks back into his cell, stands right in front of the Christ figure with the "Adios" legend (so subtle!), and tosses up a sheet for privacy so he and Whistler can scheme over how to best survey the guards. When Whistler points out that he'll need a lookout during his guard-watching, Michael tells him to use Mahone. "I thought we were stringing him along," Whistler says. "Well, we're out of string," Michael replies. I'm guessing a smack-addled Mahone cut it short, eh, Michael? Scofield hands over half of the binoculars and the men are off and peeping.
Up in Lechero's suite, T-Bag is counting out his money and drug bundles in clear sight of everyone else. He is also dressed in a fresh pink shirt and sporting a slick, dark pompadour. You have to give the man credit for dressing his part. Anyway, Lechero drawls that T-Bag's in danger of becoming all work and no play, and T-Bag replies, "My clientele keeps a tight schedule. I've got to make sure I see to their needs." As T-Bag heads over, Lechero reminds him that his primary job is to be Lechero's snitch. T-Bag nervously stammers that he hasn't heard jack, and Lechero tells him, "Listen harder."
Then Sister Magdalene arrives on the scene all nunned up, and she greets Lechero with "mi amor." "Mi vida," he responds. Face-suckage commences, and T-Bag watches with a sick look. Lechero and Sister Magdalene retire to Lechero's boudoir, and Lechero tells T-Bag to sit, watch the game, and presumably eavesdrop on his fellow posse members.
Whistler is passing the surveillance time by asking Mahone what his story is, musing, "I suppose you were married to the job. Drank too much. Rabid insomniac. Typical lawman." Mahone gives Whistler a look, then contemptuously replies, "Yeeeeep. Just like you reek of live bait, have a girl in every port, tell fish stories -- or so I've heard." Whistler's still watching. He replies calmly, "Prior to this experience, I had the utmost respect for the law." Then he and Mahone note that the guard is relentlessly focused. However, they might get a break, because there's a patch of no-man's-land that is subjected to relentless glare -- and therefore anything in it is practically invisible.
Mahone takes off to check on Michael, and as he's crossing the courtyard, he notices that Tyge -- who has already managed to get his pants back -- is scanning the courtyard with an experienced eye. Mahone makes a point of casually cutting across his line of sight. Once Mahone's presumably out of sight, Tyge takes off toward Whistler's cell. Mahone -- who had merely ducked out of view -- watches him go. Tyge had better be grateful Mahone's not bringing his A-game to prison.
Meanwhile, Michael has noticed that his assigned guard is a sports fiend, and while said sports fiend isn't watching the television in his guard tower, he's listening to it and fiddling with the antennae to get better reception. Whistler pops by to share the news that they'll have a six-minute window starting at about 3:13 in the afternoon. Michael begins to share the news about his guard, and as he does, we see that Tyge has sidled over to Michael's cell and is trying to figure out what's going on.
Michael begins explaining to Whistler that they can probably distract the sports-fan guard with "a device we can build out of some pretty common materials. It's almost like a radio except it transmits signals." Tyge is now right around the corner. You know, Michael should totally recruit him to the cause: the way the light's bouncing off his pecs, Tyge could provide a glare to cover the other escapees. And then, once they were all out, Tyge and Linc could have a pec-off to see which one has the most magnificent man-muscles. Just imagine the pec-off...I like to think it starts with ominous drumming, moves to a haka-style dance in which both participants rip off their shirts while baring their teeth aggressively, then segues into weightlifter poses while their audience shields their eyes lest they be blinded by the peclipse.
While we're all musing on such a spectacle, Michael is correctly intuiting that someone was eavesdropping on him. However, when he and Whistler rush outside the cell, Tyge is already gone.
We cut to Tyge hustling across the courtyard, trying to look like he's not in a hurry, and he bumps right into Mahone. Tyge mumbles a "pardon me" and Mahone says, "You're the new guy." Tyge rolls his eyes and says, "Yeah. Who are you?" Mahone gets all up in his face and replies, "Not the new guy." I love Mahone when he's snarky. This season's been missing his particular brand of humor. So Mahone and Tyge do a little posturing, and Mahone warns Tyge, "Is this your first time in prison? Rule number one: you mind your own business." Tyge tells him to take his own advice, and learns rule number two: don't mess with the guy who looks like he hasn't combed his hair in a week.
Meanwhile, on the outside, Linc and Sofia are tooling around the back roads, looking for someplace to park the getaway vehicle and fleshing out Sofia's characterization. She tells Linc that she and Whistler hooked up during her senior year; she was a barmaid, and Whistler used to come around and sit alone at the bar. Linc mutters, "Hitting on a waitress. That's romantic." Linc should maybe not critique anyone else's game until we see how his is -- so far, he's got "hooked her when she was too young to know better" (Veronica) and "punched in the mouth" (Jane, maybe), so honestly, hitting on your waitress seems like a step up. Sofia protests, "He is! Every time he goes away, he brings me back a present." She points to the gaudy necklace hanging from the wheel of her truck, saying that Whistler brought it to her after visiting his mom at her retirement home in Scottsdale. Linc is about to make another snappy comment when their jalopy is suddenly surrounded by a lot of uniformed officers. The guards make them get out, shouting that they're on state property, and all roads within the two-mile radius surrounding Sona are closed to traffic. After she realizes that Linc will be no good at providing a cover story, Sofia soon takes over, telling the guards in Spanish, "This is why my friends don't visit Panama. You cops bother everyone." Eventually, the guards let them go. The very minute Linc and Sofia are back in the car, they're chattering about how they'll need to find an alternate route via the coast. Well done, geniuses. time, transcribe your conversation for the cops who are probably only a few feet away.
Inside the prison, Michael and Whistler are still working industriously: Whistler's produced some hammocks that can be used to make a rope, and Michael's covetously eyeing a microwave. Whistler half-heartedly tries to talk Michael out of boosting it, but within seconds, he's playing lookout as Michael pries it loose. Unfortunately, the giant inmate to whom the microwave belongs is just about to come strolling back to his cell. Whistler frantically gets Michael out of the cell; the microwave is left hanging by one strap attached to the wall.
The two men round a corner, and Michael bugs out: "We've got less than twenty-four hours!" Whistler reassures him that they'll make it. Michael replies, "Tell me why." Whistler asks, "What?" and Michael follows up with, "What's so urgent that we can't get you out of here the day after tomorrow?" Whistler snaps back, "I don't know! I don't have all the answers. You don't know me, I don't know you, but it's your job to get me out of here."
Linc is busy buying all sorts of equipment from a dive shop on the end of a little pier. The beach around them is simply beautiful. I can see where one might be tempted by the life of a fugitive if this is where it leads. The guy ringing them up is an American; he tells Linc, "I came down here in '85. Two wives and twenty years later..." Linc grunts, then asks where international waters start. The answer: twelve nautical miles.
After Linc pays for everything and trundles off with his cooler full of equipment, he meets up with Sofia. They banter cute about how Linc doesn't tell her anything (Him: "You could be a Russian spy, for all I know") and how Sofia keeps a lot of stuff in the boot of her car (Him: "Do you live out of this thing?" Her: "I like to be prepared in case of an emergency." Him: "We got an emergency.") and I have to say, I think it's kind of charming. However, "quippy" soon gets "snippy," as Sofia does not like Linc's habit of withholding information, and threatens to stay where she is if he doesn't talk. Linc sets her straight: "They killed Sara. I'm trying to make damn sure they don't kill my son. You don't think for one second that your boy's not on their list? Then stay here. I couldn't care less." Sofia sulkily gets in the car.
Back in the prison, Lechero's taking a break from the skyrockets in flight to check out his crew. Once that's done, the camera heads back over to Sister Magdalene, who is wearing a bikini and a smile. The camera lingers, perhaps forgetting that a substantial portion of the Prison Break audience would prefer that it exercise that kind of treatment on the dudes in the cast. Anyway, the camera eventually remembers that Sister Magdalena actually has body parts above the bra line, and we see a shot of her looking sad. Lechero asks what's wrong, and she tells him that Augusto "won't pay the payment for you anymore." Lechero rolls his eyes and drops into his chair. It is so hard to find good lackeys on the outside! Sister Magdalene continues, "I went to him for payment like every Monday, and he says it's not his responsibility and I should ask you --" "No. No, no, no, no, no, no. You tell Augusto I don't pay for sex," Lechero replies. But...it's okay if someone in your organization picks up the tab? How does that work? Anyway, poor Sister Magdalene protests, "I know! I did! But what will I do? I don't see anyone else." Lechero snap, "Yeah? Well, neither do I." Somehow, his fidelity is less impressive than hers.
Michael and Whistler are busy disassembling the hammock; it's like some sort of male unstitch-and-bitch group and sort of amusing. Whistler would like to know what happens right after they slip out of Sona: "I'm going to meet someone from this [One World Conspiracy]?" "Apparently," Michael replies. "And then they're going to kill me? You know that," Whistler presses. Michael rolls his eyes and correctly points out, "If they wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead." Whistler doesn't know why he's valuable alive, and Michael reminds him, "You've got something they want." Whistler persists, "Once I give it to them, I'll be no use to them, right?" Michael rolls his eyes again and sighs, "I don't have all the answers. All I know is it's my job to get you out of here." Whistler looks disgusted at Michael's single-minded focus.
As Lechero's crew brings in the food, T-Bag heads over to Mahone, brings him two tiny envelopes, and says brightly, "It's two-for Tuesday! A one-time special, just for you. But there's a price -- Lechero's getting pretty sensitive about the cash flow." Mahone points out that he's a tad short at the moment. T-Bag figures he'll start a tab for Mahone. Oh, this will not end well, will it? Also, speaking of things that could end up going pear-shaped for everyone: Sammy is the one who notices the package of drugs Sucre stuck in a crate of fruit, and he's slipped it into a pocket in his cargoes without anyone noticing.
We cut to a dazed prisoner hearing a rasping noise, then wandering over to look at the hole where the microwave used to be. There is then a funny cut to Michael trying to quickly-yet-casually walk away with a microwave in his hand. And then we get the obligatory sequence in which Mahone is high as a kite. Yes, there is the wacky music to let you know his senses are distorted, yes, time has slowed to a super-arty crawl, and yes, I am so disgruntled by this new character twist that I refuse to spend more time on it than necessary. Just suffice it to say the whole point to this scene is that even in his heroin-addled state, Mahone's capable of noticing something outside that has to do with his paper coffee cup.
Down in the courtyard, many inmates are enjoying the play-by-play radio broadcast of a soccer game. Out in the guard tower, the sports-nut guard is adjusting his TV set so he can hear the same game. And inside Michael's cell, Michael's providing exposition for everyone's sake: "During my third year of school, we studied electrical engineering with a focus on EMPs -- that's electromagnetic pulses. If you hook up a power source to a transmitter, it generates a pulse. That pulse crashes anything electronic." Whistler jokes about Michael's terrorist tactics. Michael concedes that yes, EMPs can be used for evil, and that engineering students now learn how to defend structures as well. However, since the guard tower was engineered a long time ago, there's no chance that it's invulnerable to EMPs. Whistler jokes, "I'm guessing you always won the elementary science fair." Michael just gives him a look. There was no call for that, Scofield! You could have just pointed out that yes, you did win in fifth grade but then the city's bomb squad had to come in and defuse the sentient robot you created. Nobody would have looked down on you. Anyway, Michael finishes his EMP transmitter. The prisoners rioting in the courtyard is his first cue that his device is effective. And while we see that the prison guard's TV went out, Michael does not. He whips up his monocular to see if he can determine anything, and the light catches the lens. Michael turns away for a moment, and when he raises the monocular again, we see the guard aiming a gun right at him -- and then firing it.
A few bullets whiz into the cell. Both Michael and Whistler drop to the ground. Bedlam has broken loose in the prison, klaxons are sounding, and Splenda comes to fetch the two dumb gringos, explaining that the guards are coming in. We cut to Lechero's suite. Sister Magdalene is back in her nun togs, but she's still not supposed to be in there. Lechero charges T-Bag with hiding the lady.
All the inmates are in the courtyard, on their knees with their hands behind their heads. The head of the police -- a.k.a. the Colonel -- comes in, and Lechero blusters, "We received no word from this." The guards cut down that bluster with a rifle butt to the gut, and the Colonel explains that someone in the tower saw a rifle scope. Lechero protests that it's impossible. The Colonel spits, "There is a gun in your prison, and it was pointing at one of my men. We are going to find it." We cut to Scofield going bug-eyed with dismay as he realizes his monocular is responsible for this whole scene.
Linc and Sofia are walking along a lovely shoreline. They look like any other picnicking couple on the beach, and within moments, it becomes apparent that Linc hopes they give off that impression too. Linc begins digging in the sand. Sofia asks, "When was the last time you saw your son?" Linc looks at her and keeps digging with his hands. Sofia says, "I don't automatically trust people either, but at least I can tell when they have good intentions." "Good for you," Linc grunts, and continues digging. Sofia peels off her shirt (she's wearing a camisole underneath) and huffs that she's tired of trying to prove herself to Linc, so she's just going to chillax. Linc looks up long enough to get an appreciative eyeful of Sofia, and for the second time in an episode, we see a female character getting the full male gaze treatment. Sofia calls him on the ogling and goes back to relaxing.
Things are a lot less chill in Sona; all the guards are busy storming the prison with riot shields up. Inside the closet in Lechero's suite, Sister Magdalene is nursing a freak-out, but T-Bag takes control and promises her everything will work out: "I will not let anyone find you in here." Magdalene whimpers, "Lechero hates me." T-Bag assures her, "Lechero does not hate you. You hold a very special place in his heart." She protests, "So many girls can take my place," and wow, T-Bag must really be smitten, because he does not snap, "Can you pull the Meredith Grey business after the guards have gone?" Instead, he assures Magdalene that "he knows you're better than them. You're a real woman. All men ever do or will desire." Magdalene is totally missing the abundant social cues here. (No wonder she's only got one client; the girl can't tell when someone's interested!) She asks T-Bag if he knows what she is. He replies, "In this world, sister, we are all prostitutes. You are a queen." The guards enter just then, so the sweet talk ceases temporarily. However, these are the slackest guards on the planet, because for all the tough talk about not resting until they find the rifle in the prison, not a single guard thinks to look for the contraband inside the closet he's standing in front of. A few cells away, the one overachiever finds Michael's monocular. We cut to Michael in the courtyard, and he looks like he's just sensed that indeed, the worst-case scenario has happened...as usual.
Michael's cell is locked, and then the guards come down for a round of smack-the-prisoner. First, they pick the wrong prisoner to brutalize, and Michael shouts that it's his cell. By the way, for those of you still wondering if Shouty Scofield = Hottie Scofield? The answer is "yes." But the guard who was being spied on, Hurtado, is unswayed by this observation. Michael points out that the monocular isn't a weapon; Hurtado smacks him across the face for that. Maybe he's just embarrassed that he made a big fuss over nothing. He points a pistol at Michael's head and asks why Michael was watching him. Michael has no good lie.
Michael tries to protest that he wasn't watching Hurtado, but the guard's having none of it. Neither is Michael, for some reason: "I know what you think you saw, but I wasn't watching you!" He does not add, "I was watching your television, to see if I could distract you enough to sneak out tomorrow." Hurtado counts down from five. Whistler watches, concerned, as Michael continues to protest. Mahone is also looking concerned, if a little baffled. Whistler finally shouts that the monocular is his, and the Colonel walks over to inquire as to why Whistler was watching Hurtado. Whistler improvises that he was actually bird-watching, and whips out his guidebook for proof. Michael gives him a look of pure disbelief. Whistler hands over the book with ostensibly-shaking hands. When the Colonel is all, "You know, you could have said something sooner..." Whistler bats his big blue eyes and protests, "I was scared." Michael looks over, still sort of confused by what just went down. The guards take off, and Michael grabs his precious monocular. Whistler gives him A Look. Perhaps he is wondering -- as I am -- how it is that the dust around Michael's knees managed to stay so dry.
We then cut to Michael sprinting through the hall to get back to his cell, only to discover it locked. This is unfortunate, as the EMP transmitter was in there, along with the hammocks he and Whistler were turning into ropes.
And now, T-Bag must say goodbye to his newest ladylove. I...I am just amazed that in the two-and-change seasons this has been on, T-Bag has managed to get more play from the ladies than Michael, Sucre, and Linc put together. Magdalene bats his big brown eyes at T-Bag before he goes to apprise Lechero of what happened with the guards (i.e. a big bag of nothing), and she is left all alone with the drawer that has the cashbox in it.
When Lechero heads in, Magdalene's put the habit back on, and she's walking out very nervously. Lechero tries to comfort her -- a little bit late for that, if you ask me -- and that's how he discovers the real reason she's nervous: Magdalene's tried to pocket a little cash from the box in the drawer. T-Bag immediately rushes in and says, "Patron, I gave her the money. I was going to replace it myself at-at-at the end of the day, when I get my cut. I just didn't get a chance to tell you yet. She had no money to get home." Lechero asks Magdalene if this is true, and the lady lies like a champ. T-Bag leans in and presses, "With all due respect, surely you don't want your mistress traveling broke? She'd end up in a taxi with no way to pay the cab fare." Lechero asks, "You did this for me?" T-Bag babbles that he did and Lechero says quietly, "Teodoro...the one who does all the useful things for me. Huh? And now you do the thinking for me." T-Bag barely has time to protest before Lechero's laid him out on the floor. As Lechero orders, "Get a bucket. Wash my feet," we see him push Magdalene into the room in front of him, and T-Bag walks off in the opposite direction, retching from the blow to the stomach. Back in the shadows, Sammy watches silently.
We then cut to the front of Michael's cell, where he's still having a quiet meltdown. Whistler strides up, all business, and asks what they do now. The two then descend into another round of bickering and yeah, yeah, they don't know each other, they don't trust each other, they're at the mercy of the One World Conspiracy. Whistler finally says, "If you can't get me out of here, tell me now. Because time's running out." As he stomps off, Michael just looks all sad, instead of snapping, "If you've got a Plan B, feel free to bring it out at any time."
Linc finally takes a break from digging and collapses backward. Sofia irritably tosses him a bottle of water. Linc tells her, "You know, my brother and I wanted to come down here to Panama and start a dive shop, like the one we were at today. My boy was going to leave school and come down, help start the family business." Sofia figures they can go that once "this is all over." Linc mutters, "Too much bad stuff's happened." Yeah -- can you imagine the atmosphere around the dive shop? Michael would be all, "Linc, did you remember to fill those tanks?" and Linc would reply, "Didn't I tell you I did?" and then Michael would flash him the Blue Steel and go, "Yeah...you told me like you told me Sara was dead!" And then it would be so tense, all the potential customers would find excuses for leaving. Anyway, back in the episode that is actually taking place, Linc shows Sofia the equipment he bought (and is burying) and he says, "Our getaway vehicle." Smart! He then orders Sofia, "time you see Whistler, I want you to tell him what you saw. Tell him we're all in this together. We're part of a team. You understand?" Sofia is a little baffled at this change in attitude, but she'll go along with it. She also goes along with Linc's orders to walk through the woods as opposed to back down the shoreline. thing you know, they're practically on top of Sona. Linc says, "If all goes well, we'll see them tomorrow." And that is when I pause and laugh and laugh and laugh, because...hello, Linc. Where have you been for the past two seasons and change? "If all goes well," indeed.
Inside Sona, Michael is telling Mahone that they've got to replace everything they lost -- starting with a new exit point. But before the two can talk further, Mahone is distracted by Tyge walking by. Both of them watch him walk up to Whistler and say, "I know you." Whistler tries to blow him off, but Tyge presses, "You're McFadden, right? Nice, 1997?" Whistler is all, "You've confused me with someone else," but Tyge persists, "No, no, no, I swear. You were with the ambassador." Both Mahone and Michael are openly watching this. Whistler says coldly, "You've mistaken me for someone else." Tyge gives him a skeptical look and walks off without another word.
Whistler comes over to Michael and Mahone, both of whom are giving him looks like, McFadden, eh?. He protests that Tyge is merely silly from the heat. Mahone finally breaks the awkward silence with, "C'mon, guys, I got something to show you."
He walks them over to the window where he spent the better part of an afternoon drooling in an opium haze, and after a moment, they all watch a day-shift guard walk across the courtyard and toss his empty coffee cup on the ground. It rests right to a previously-discarded cup. Mahone points out of the guard, "He has one in the morning and one at lunch...a man's gotta have his fix. If we get to that cup..." "We get to the man," Wheeler concludes. Michael urges, "We've got to move." And move they do -- right toward the end credits.