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This is the week that we find out several key bits of information about Lechero: his real name is Norman St. John, he has a real sense of being the people's avenger following his mother's rape by her employer, and he really, really doesn't like cigars.
The cigars in question come from Augusto, who has been using them to try to woo Sammy into his employ. Sammy's not above taking them, but he doesn't like them, so he passes them off to the thug with this hideous metal-up-top-skinhead-on-bottom hairdo. That guy smokes them...and later, he's stabbed because Lechero assumes that he is the one in possible cahoots with Augusto. This stabbing actually serves two purposes: it clears the inner circle of a traitor, and it shows that Lechero has a culprit in Tyge's murder.
Yes, you read that right. Tyge was stabbed. Michael plays Encyclopedia Brown to determine who the non-Whistler killer has to be, except he's really, really bad at it. Bellick says pitiably, "I can't even kill myself." And Mahone...well, Michael tries to pin the crime on Mahone, but Agent Lang (and OH MY GOD, welcome back, Agent Lang!) has come to take him back to the states, so Mahone walks out before anyone can slaughter him.
We also find out that Susan B. Anthony is probably mentally unhinged, since her mood swings all over the place, and she appears to have a weird, weird rapport with L.J.--first confiding the conditions of her very first kidnapping at the hands of enemies in Mosul, but then prepping to decapitate the young man when Linc lets slip that the timetable he and Michael are working on for the escape is much different than what she thinks it is. L.J. is going to need years of therapy to deal with the events of the last six months in Prison Break time.
And yeah, Linc lets slip that Michael's busting out during the day. He doesn't have much to do this episode except sweat a lot, drug a guard and tell Michael that Dr. Sara's been killed.
How does Michael take the news? Not well. He attempts to get through all five stages of grief in a two-minute musical montage, but he's still stuck on the anger part, and lashes out...by concluding that Whistler is responsible for Dr. Sara's death and throwing down the chicken foot. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
The episode opens with Splenda playing basketball in the courtyard, then quickly flashes to Sammy pushing some ZZ Top-looking guy against a pillar and demanding a ring. Then he turns around and offers the ring to Lechero. Awww -- there's a jewelry market begging to be addressed: Show him you'd be his thug all over again. Every killing begins with K. Lechero declines the bauble, so Sammy pockets it.
Splenda has the bad luck to have a stray shot knock over a refuse bin right as Lechero walks on. T-Bag immediately drops to his knees and begins cleaning, but Lechero calls him off: he'll take the opportunity to have a little one-on-one time with Splenda. It's the little things, like personally scaring the pants off the young man, that make him a leader and success. Anyway, Splenda scampers off and Lechero notices something amid the refuse. We don't get to see what it is, but Lechero decides to pocket it for later.
Inside the prison, Michael has scampered over to introduce himself to the shirtless Tyge. It's not because he's hoping for workout tips: Michael wants dirt on Whistler. Tyge explains that no, Whistler was not an ambassador: "The Ambassador. I was concierge at the Ambassador hotel [in Nice]. I could have sworn he worked there for a few months. Who the hell knows, huh? I was high half the time. Kind of why I got fired. Kind of why I'm in here." As Tyge walks off, Michael asks what Whistler was up to in Nice. Tyge declines to say, snarking, "What? You writing a book?" He saunters off, presumably to do more crunches.
Michael heads off to consult with Whistler. Escape time is in three hours, 41 minutes. Whistler frets about how they've got no way out of no-man's land. Michael's all, "On it," and Whistler reminds him that "your gravedigger friend's only sprayed it once. I'd just as soon not get electrocuted today." Mahone looks up from his perch in the corner right as Michael says, "Would it be better if Sucre sprayed the fence again? Yes. Is that an option? No." Mahone says thoughtfully that maybe Sucre needs another reason to be there. Whistler asks, "What are you going to do? Kill someone to get more spray on the fence?" Mahone grits, "I'd think about killing you if it helped us get out of here today." Michael glares and reminds both men that honestly, bodies are a lot less useful than a ladder would be, so shut up and start working on that.
In the scene, we see that Whistler's just bought a hammock off an inmate, and he hands it off to Mahone, commenting that it's shorter than the last one. "We might need something to extend it," Mahone says absently; he's busy watching Tyge in the courtyard below. Whistler promises, "I'll take care of it." Mahone then steers the conversation to Tyge, saying, "I don't care if this guy knows you or not. What I do care about is his apparent fixation with watching you at all times." Whistler and Mahone both stare at Tyge, and then Whistler bundles up his hammock and makes to leave, saying, "We'll be out of here soon enough. He won't be a problem then."
Tyge, meanwhile, turns down Bellick's well-meaning offer to play dice with a snooty, "You want me to come back to your cell and roll bones? Real subtle." And then he keeps going, "Tell me, are you this friendly with all the shirtless guys in Sona?" Bellick protests that it's not like that, and Tyge says loudly, "I just don't want to have sex with you, okay?" Everyone laughs and Bellick looks like he's just realized that Tyge's scoring points off him to climb up the prison social hierarchy.
Michael heads out to chat with Linc. Without preamble, he explains that he needs to disable two of the tower guards, and he needs Linc's help with one of them -- specifically, the one who drinks coffee. Michael wants Linc to drug the guy's coffee so he's unconscious during the escape. Linc asks, "You're dropping this on me with three hours to go?" Michael's like, "...Eh. Sorry?" Then he double-checks to make sure the One World Conspiracy still thinks they're escaping at night, and Linc warns him, "I can't lie anymore to these people, Michael." Scofield's all, "Oh, I think you can -- we need the time to scheme so we can break out L.J. and Sara." Linc does not mention what happened last time he schemed to break out L.J. and Dr. Sara. Speaking of whom...Michael would like word of them both. This is understandable, since he's in a crazy-making situation and these two people are the reason he keeps going, but Linc's evasive answers aren't doing a whole lot for his peace of mind. Michael threatens, "If I don't see pictures of L.J. and Sara by 2:30 this afternoon, I'm not going anywhere." We cut to Linc's Oh, crap... look. And then we cut to the credits.
Once we return, we see that Susan B. -- clad in what appears to be a men's shirt over a bathing suit -- is bringing L.J. his grilled cheese. The kid's not tied up, and he appears to be in relatively level spirits, all things considered. Then Susan B. pulls up a chair and monotones this monologue: "A couple of years ago, I was serving in Mosul, and I was taken prisoner. A few nights later, I could hear the sound of U.S. Army helicopters, two klicks and closing. My hands were still tied behind my back, and I ran. It didn't occur to me that if this was a rescue mission, my captors could hear the choppers. It didn't occur to me that this was actually a hostage exchange, and that my jumping would be viewed as a hostile act. I got recaptured immediately. Six [U.S. Army] Rangers died in the firefight. And for the three weeks --" We flash to a camo-clad Susan B. being tossed on a pallet in a room full of men, as one masked guy closes the door. And then Susan shows us her thigh, which is covered in old burns and keloid scars. She says, "Let's just say men are pigs. Let's be clear: this is an exchange. You don't try to be a hero, you and your father will be okay. Okay?" L.J. is sufficiently threatened and agrees. Susan ups the freaky ante by smiling brightly and squeaking, "Eat!" I...am still not too close to figuring out what makes Susan B. tick. She's apparently ex-military, only she didn't get the Jessica Lynch treatment, she got the One World Conspiracy gig. But why? Are we to infer that her POW trauma turned her into the conspiracy cookie she is today? And where are her pants?
We return to Sona, where T-Bag is asking the thug with the bad hair, "Norman? Norman?" The other guy chortles, "As you can imagine, he prefers Lechero." T-Bag repeats, incredulously, one more time, "Norman! He kill you before or after he does your taxes?" I think that joke is very unfair to the accountants on the world. Then again, my accountant is named Layla, so jokes about "won't you ease my worried mind?" are de rigeur around tax time. Sammy is apparently not too amused by the joke either, and orders T-Bag to go make them drinks, taking special care to call him "boy." T-Bag reminds Sammy that he was recently promoted, and also takes care to call him "boy." Sammy grabs the chicken foot he keeps handy at all times (between this and the ring, he is Sona's fashion-forward accessorizer, that's for sure), but before he can make the actual challenge, Lechero comes on over and breaks it up. He then pressures T-Bag for whatever dirt he's collected, but T-Bag has apparently not picked up enough juicy or pertinent gossip. Lechero gets miffed, and T-Bag protests, "All I know is whenever I sit down and try to pick things up, Sammy changes the subject. I'm not saying he's the guy, but..." You have to admire how T-Bag's always thinking. Well, you do if you're not named "Lechero" (or "Norman").
We cut to the outside of the prison, where Sofia and Sucre are waiting for Linc to come back from visitation. When Linc does, he has Sofia figure out where the guard's coffee comes from, and he tells Sucre to help him ID a specific guard, on account of they're going to have to drug the guy's coffee. Linc then makes a call to Susan B. and requests, "I need something." We know not what.
Back in Sona, Michael's walking around the halls and brooding. Then there's some skulking in assorted cells, watching the guards, until Lechero's goon squad rounds the corner. They're debating T-Bag. The guy with the hair I hate is all, "He's a clown!" and Sammy growls, "He's a dead clown." Maybe this is why Sammy's in Sona: someone made the mistake of taking him to see Mystere at Treasure Island, and thing you know.... Anyway, Michael has to hide because it turns out he's in Sammy's cell. This allows us all to see how Bad-Hair-Guy has discovered Sammy's stash of cigars. Sammy laughs, "Take 'em. They're nasty." We then discover that Augusto's been sending in the cigars. Sammy reasons, "I can't make him stop sending them in to me, but I don't work for him, you understand?"
In the scene, we see Mahone shuffling out to see a visitor, and holy cats, it's Agent Lang! I love her. And that love increases when she gives Mahone a look and says, "I was in the neighborhood." Mahone asks shakily, "You came all this way to visit?" "I came to get you out of here. I can have you in Schaum correctional facility in 48 hours," she replies. (Boy, this show loves the name "Schaum" -- the firm where Michael used to work was called Middleton, Maxwell and Schaum.) Mahone realizes he'd be in St. Louis. Lang says easily, "Sullins wanted medium security but I talked him down." Mahone asks what kind of deal he can expect, and Lang tells him, "The director's giving us a lot of latitude in exchange for testimony about the Lincoln Burrows conspiracy. So, how does eight years sound?" Mahone rejects the offer, presumably because his inevitable slide into giving handjobs for smack is so much more appealing than getting pegged by the One World Conspiracy the minute he's stateside again. Lang tries to point out that without the deal, Mahone is well and truly screwed, because the U.S. government could decide to prosecute him for his many other crimes, so it's in his best interests to take it. Mahone says shakily, "I appreciate the effort -- your effort," and takes off as Lang asks, "Alex? Alex!" Mahone! Exactly how much of your brain have you melted with the heroin? You used to be smarter than this.
Back in a cell, Whistler's handing over a piece of paper to Michael, asking him to give it to Sofia should Whistler not make it out alive. Whistler then asks if he can do the same for Michael, and Michael tells him to tie an anchor bend knot. Whistler does and holds it up, spitting. "Does that pass your test? I told you I was a fisherman." Or perhaps you led a Boy Scout troop through their knots badge. Mahone comes in then to ask where the escape is, and Michael says, "I found a cell that will get us into a no-man's land. It's a longer run than the old one, but it's going to have to do." Of course, the bad news is that the cell belongs to Lechero's gang. There's more talk about how they're going to be running for the fence, and Michael tells them they'll go unnoticed because everyone will be at the lunchtime soccer game. As some inmates hustle by talking excitedly, Whistler asks, "You sure it hasn't started already?"
The guys head out to the courtyard to see what all the fuss is about. The answer: Tyge, whose dead body is being carried out by some anonymous cons. Oooh, Lechero is not happy about this. The only kind of killing allowed in his prison is the kind that comes with a chicken-foot accessory. He shouts, "Anyone who affronts our justice system in this way must be punished! I know the coward won't come forward, but if anyone has information about this shameful act, I demand to know." Michael is staring down at the body, so he misses Whistler's skeptical one-eyebrow shrug. Mahone does too. Well, that cinches it for me: I think Whistler did it. There's always the outside chance it was Mahone, but I think his reaction more or less shows that Tyge's death took him by surprise. In any event, Sammy decides to scapegoat Splenda.
We cut to the nonplussed Splenda being grilled in Lechero's suite. Lechero says, "Every day I see you wearing your American clothes, playing your American games. I don't think I've heard you speak Spanish since you've been here." "I like to practice my English?" Splenda essays tentatively. Lechero's down with that, adding that "America's a great nation...with justice for all." Correct me if I'm wrong, but these guys are in America too -- they're in Central America, and it seems like they'd be talking about the United States rather than "America." Anyway, the point is not the geographic chauvinism in this scene but rather, that Lechero is interrogating Splenda in the name of justice for dead Tyge. Splenda, who is scared spitless, stammers, "I saw one person go into the stairwell, and then maybe a minute later, I heard an argument." Lechero asks pointedly who Splenda saw, and Splenda gulps. We cut the scene before finding out if he actually points the finger at anyone.
And now Mahone is trying to review the escape plan, but Michael has other thins on his mind. He asks testily, "Does anyone have anything to say about what we just saw out there?" What, like, "My, Tyge's a lot more pleasant now that he's not talking" or "Indeed, he had abs to die for"? Michael points out that an hour ago, Mahone was talking about the need for a fresh body and lo, it appears. Mahone does not reply, "I'm so addled on smack, I can't even comb my hair. Do you think I could pull off a stealth murder in this state?" Instead, he snaps, "This is exactlywhat we should be focusing on -- let's spend another few hours worrying about a dead body in this hell hole." So, I give him points for that too. Before the discussion can go any further, Sammy and his goons come in to fetch Whistler. It appears Lechero has decided that Whistler's the one who killed Tyge.
As the other thugs drag off Whistler, he protests, "I didn't do anything!" Michael helpfully tells Sammy, "Listen to him -- he's innocent." Scofield, unless you've been dogging Whistler's steps every minute of the day, you have no idea what he's capable of. Sammy invites Michael to switch places with Whistler, so Michael huffs back to his cell and snots to Mahone, "Maybe now we should start worrying about who the killer is." Mahone points out that Sona doesn't exactly lack for suspects. Michael's all, "But how many of them can kill a man with a single stab wound to the neck, Alex?" Mahone snaps back, "I was in visitation, Kojak, and what makes you so sure that Whistler didn't do it? He's the one who had the run-in with the guy." Michael insists that Whistler has too much to lose -- which, if you ask me, is just bass-ackwards reasoning: it's because Whistler has so much to lose that he might stab the guy who was shadowing him. Not only does it eliminate the unwanted attention, it gets more spray on the fence so ... win-win. Unless you're Tyge, that is. Anyway, Michael and Mahone bicker some more.
Whistler continues to protest as he's hauled into Lechero's office, and Lechero calmly tells him, "Someone saw you go down the staircase." This brings Whistler up short, and instead of protesting that it wasn't him, he weakly asks, "Is there any other proof?" While Whistler protests -- perhaps forgetting that there is no appeals process here in Sona -- Sammy hustles off to do his bidding and T-Bag quickly pockets the ring that Sammy acquired in the opening scene of the episode. T-Bag then drifts out of the room. Whistler protests that once Lechero finds the weapon, he'll find the killer. "Or maybe we'll find where you planted it," Lechero replies. Someone's been watching his CSI. Whistler snaps, "Did it ever occur to you that someone might be framing me?" Lechero wonders who would bother. Whistler's all, "Hello, bounty on my head?" but Lechero just dismisses that and tells Whistler to sit his ass down for a lecture. The upshot is this: Lechero is unswayed by the whims of the rich and powerful because he and his loved ones have been on the short end of that stick, what with his mother getting raped by her employer and "because he was rich, and we were immigrants, the police wouldn't even take a report. A week later, to gain access to his gates, I dressed as a milkman. A lechero. And I made sure that fair punishment was rendered. Now you want to tell me I favor the rich?" Well, there's the origin story.
Whistler leans forward and calmly says, "I understand the rules here, and I respect them. But why the rush to judgment? Is there a rule saying you must convict a suspect within ten minutes?" I have a hard time believing it's the countless hours at sea running tourist charters that gave him such sangfroid. Lechero says, "We have all the time in the world." Whistler gets up and says, "Obviously, I'm not going anywhere. If you need to talk again, I'll be in my cell." Or he'll just hang in Lechero's office for a while. Oh, Michael is going to stroke out when he gets wind of this development.
Or perhaps Michael will continue to play Encyclopedia Brown, quizzing all and sundry about The Case of the Cut-up Cokehead. When he visits Bellick -- who is playing dice all alone in his cell -- and attempts to get a confession out of the man (opening line: "I don't like you. I certainly don't respect you" -- doesn't that make you want to open your heart and unburden your sins?), Bellick blows him off with, "You really think I killed that [pejorative term for persons of Francophone background]? How many times have I had you at gunpoint? You think I didn't want to pull that trigger? Hell, I can't even kill myself." Michael leaves without apologizing for accusing Bellick of murder.
Speaking of antagonistic exchanges, it's T-Bag and Sammy. The point to T-Bag wandering the halls was to find someone who could corroborate Splenda's testimony that Whistler did indeed head down the stairs after Tyge, and Sammy's all, "The sooner you find that witness, the sooner we can kill Whistler, and then the sooner I can kill you." How is that motivational? To anyone other than Sammy, I mean? As he heads off, chortling to himself. T-Bag gets a very thoughtful expression. He is going to come up with ten synonyms for "doomed," I'm thinking. And Sammy will learn them all during a sweeps period.
Meanwhile, outside Sona...Susan B is handing Linc a small bottle of liquid dog downer, instructing him to use two droplets to knock out the guard an hour beforehand. Linc takes the glass bottle and begins ambling away. Susan B. takes that moment to begin talking about how cheesed she is that Lincoln's seeing other women -- more specifically, Sofia. Linc protests that Sofia approached him, and Susan B. says, "I don't mind that she's helping you. I mind that you kept it from me." Linc does not point out that he never agreed to stop seeing other conspiratorially-minded women. Susan snaps, "No more surprises, Lincoln!" So Linc lays out the last one: he sorta needs pictures of Dr. Sara because he sorta neglected to tell his brother that his girlfriend's been killed. Susan B. snarks, "Smart move, not telling your brother. He seems a little sensitive to me." That's why the chicks dig him, Susie B. Anyway, she confirms that they're all going to meet up at nine p.m. for the hostage exchange, and Linc is all, "Yes. Indeed. I am not planning on surprising you at all by moving the time of the breakout up by six hours. LINCOLN SEETHE."
In the scene, Sucre and Lincoln are trying to figure out which guard is Hurtado, so they can spike his coffee. Sucre protests that all the guards look the same to him. Just then, he's collared to go to work; there's another dead body at Sona that needs the spray-and-inhume treatment. As Sucre hops to, he passes Hurtado; he manages to give Linc a wild-eyed look indicating that yes, this is the guard whom they must drug. At first, Linc tries to hand over the drugged coffee by A) bumping into Hurtado, thus spilling his coffee, and B) acting acutely apologetic and being all, "Here, take mine." Unfortunately, the barista at the stand has already replaced Hurtado's coffee, so that scheme doesn't work. Sofia then hops out of her car, unbuttons her shirt, and runs up to Linc, pleading for a ride to Sona on account of her car just running out of gas. Linc ad libs quite nicely, and Hurtado steps up and offers the pretty lady a ride. Sofia hustles off, the cup of poisoned coffee in her hand.
Back on the inside, Michael's walking around Sona when he passes T-Bag. The other man drawls, "My condolences. You finally make a friend, and he's about to die. Damn shame. [pause] You can stop it, you know. If you hadn't noticed, my position enables me to hear things." Michael sighs and heads over, saying. "I'm listening." T-Bag reasons, "The only proof Lechero's got is that your man went down the staircase. What if you had more compelling evidence?" Evidence like, say, a ring? T-Bag reasons that Michael doesn't need to feel guilty about pointing the finger at someone else for the killing if that person was already an unpunished killer, and he finishes with the hissed "Sammy." Michael asks, "You want me to tell Lechero his right-hand man should die?" T-Bag chortles that nobody tells Lechero anything, but one can certainly show him something -- like, say, a ring -- and lead him to the pertinent conclusion. Before T-Bag heads off, he drops the ring on the windowsill in front of Michael and says bluntly, "You want to save your friend's life? Someone else has to die."
So Michael then heads down to the crime scene and sees the big, bloody splotch on the wall where Tyge met his maker. He twiddles with the ring for a minute as he has a crisis of conscience...
Then we cut to a nervous-looking Whistler. Lechero wanders back in and prods as to Whistler's presumed motive: "[Tyge] knew something about you." "He thought he knew something about me," Whistler corrects. Lechero channels a little of the old Bunny Colvin with, "Opportunity and motive -- that's not a good combination." Whistler rebuts, "You know there's discontent from many of the prisoners over how you run Sona." "You know argumentum ad populum doesn't work on me," Lechero snaps back. More or less. Whistler pleads, "My point is this: you execute me, you get your swift justice, you may placate the masses. But when they find out who really did it? They will know you killed an innocent man." I don't see how the Sona inmates will get too exercised over that -- they're find with men killing each other in Lechero's gladiatorial ring now.
Anyway, Lechero presses on what beef Whistler had with Tyge, and the best Whistler can offer is, "He was a nosy guy. He got into my business. I'm sure he did the same with someone else, and that's what got him killed." It's interesting how Whistler can't look Lechero in the eyes when he says that. Lechero asks, "Will you just admit you had an argument?" and Whistler rebuts, "This is prison! If someone makes false accusations, you can't back down. You must respect that." Lechero's wearing a look like, "I don't have to respect anything, boy." It's marvelously skeptical and dismissive and I now have it as a screencap so I can study it for my own deployment purposes later.
Meanwhile, on the outside...Hurtado's putting the moves on Sofia. This includes telling her how attractive she is, and taking the long way to work. The long way, by the way, includes a really secluded glade. There, Hurtado pulls over and says, "You probably don't know this, but ... there is a special visitation for special people. I could arrange for you to go inside Sona, and have some private time with your love. [begins stroking Sofia's hair] And everything you need to assure your entry could be performed right here in this car." Oh, that Hurtado, so thoughtful and considerate -- what girl wouldn't swoon at the prospect of a quickie in a dusty truck?
Linc, who had followed at a discreet distance and is now parked up on the road, sees what's going on, grabs his gun and prepares to untie the sack of LINCOLN SMASH! that he carries with him at all times. (He's like Santa -- it's a sack that defies the laws of physics. Work with my metaphor here.) Before he can sneak up on the car, his phone rings. Susan B.'s calling him to tell him that the picture's ready. Linc asks how it looks, and Susan B. snaps, "It looks like Sara!" Given her volatile emotional state, I'm wondering if she shouldn't start taking some of what Mahone used to take. Linc distractedly tells Susan B. that he'll meet her in the Sona parking lot in 30 minutes, and she quickly twigs to Linc being even more stressed than usual. Linc puts her on hold as he sneaks up to see if it's time for the LINCOLN SMASH! to begin.
We cut back to the attempted seduction of Sofia, and Hurtado has just busted out the most awful line in history, "Don't you love your man?" That is exactly what you should say to someone when you're trying to get them into bed. Sofia manages to wiggle out of the whole situation by simpering that yes, she sure does love "Norman St. John," but he has such a terrible temper and...and Hurtado's all, "I had no idea you were one of Lechero's ladies. Let us never speak of this again. Please." As he reels, Sofia cleverly switches the coffees.
Meanwhile, Susan B. is not happy that she's been kept waiting on the phone, and in the few sections, manages to worm it out of Linc that the escape timeline's been bumped up by six hours. Oooh, she is pissed.
Back inside the prison, Michael heads over to Mahone's prison cell, only to discover that he's not in it. Michael sits down on the bunk and contemplates Sammy's ring. Then he looks up and happens to notice a bloody knife secreted under the bunk bed across from him. Oh, it looks like someone may have been framed for murder! Or, you know, actually committed murder. Michael stares at the knife.
In the scene, we see that the four body-toting guys are still carrying Tyge's body around the courtyard. (Ew. Why?) When Mahone comes up to the lurking Michael, Michael gets all Encyclopedia Brown on him and whips out the now-cleaned shiv. There's a little back-and-forth wherein Mahone reintroduces Michael to the idea of framing people for crimes they didn't commit. Regretfully, he does not add, "Didn't something similar happen to your brother?" Instead he scowls, "What are you going to do -- take that to the Sona crime lab?" Michael's all, "Nuh-uh. I'm going to take it to Lechero!" Mahone is left protesting his innocence to himself -- and probably suffering another wee psychotic break as he contemplates how he may just go down for the one wrongful death he didn't commit.
Meanwhile, on the outside...Susan B. and her black tote bag head into L.J.'s room. L.J. is tied to a chair. He tremulously asks what's going on, and Susan B. slams the contents of the bag onto a nearby table: bleach, duct tape, big knife. As Susan B. unrolls a plastic tarp around L.J.'s chair, she snarls, "Your father tried to be a hero." L.J. breaks down and begins begging for his life. Susan grabs the knife, unsheathes it and stares at it like a woman possessed, saying, "Once I cut the spinal cord and sever the nerve endings, you won't feel a thing." She bends L.J. over, and as the music builds and L.J.'s screams become even more panicky, places the knife right about where the base of the skull meets the spine. I shudder for a moment, wondering if this is how Dr. Sara went down too. And then Susan B.'s phone rings. She snaps out of her killer fugue and answers it; on the other end, Linc is frantically gibbering apologies. Susan holds the phone to L.J.'s ear (and the knife to his throat) and L.J. weeps into the phone that he's going to be killed. Oooh, Susan B. is good. Don't you wish she were available for side jobs like scaring the piss out of your no-good cheating rat bastard boyfriend? And because she's so effective, Susan B. soon has the entire plan -- the early escape, all of it -- out of Linc. He pleads for L.J.'s life, but she just snaps the phone shut. Oooh, she is really good. I believe I may have to revise my opinion of her following this scene. Linc crawls into the front seat of Sofia's car and has a huge panic attack.
Back at Sona, it's visiting time for Mahone again. This time, Agent Lang has brought Sullins, the guy who was nosing around Mahone all last season. Sullins chortles, "Living the good life, huh? Is that what this all is? Having too good a time to contemplate leaving?" Mahone's impassivity breaks down and he admits, "I needed some time to think." And...he thinks he will be taking the deal Sullins offers: four years in prison after he testifies in front of a special prosecutor. Sullins assures him the hearing is "just a formality," as the Justice Dept. is extremely motivated to unwind the One World Conspiracy. (Probably because it provides a nice distraction from sticky issues like "Is waterboarding really torture?" and "How in the hell did we get to the point where former AG Ashcroft looked like a maverick civil liberatian?")
Mahone's decision is in no part motivated by the fact that Michael has just flounced up to Lechero's suite and is busy pegging Mahone as the killer. He hands over the shiv to Lechero, who eyes it speculatively. It's just too bad for Michael that this all goes down in the few seconds before Mahone gets to walk on out of the prison. Mahone pauses in the doorway to look back at what he's leaving behind. He is, unfortunately, too far away to distinctly make out Michael's jaw-dropped expression. Lechero turns around and snipes, "How convenient! To blame this all on a man who can't be questioned!" I love how he's making it sound like Michael's somehow subverting the justice system here. The hypocrisy, it is delicious. Lechero decides he's had enough of this, and orders the guy with the hair I hate to "get the prisoner. It's time."
It's time for Michael to gape in horror is what it is. The non-Sammy goons manhandle Whistler to his feet, and they walk off. Michael trails after them, pleading, "You know Whistler didn't do this." Whistler's all, "Yeah! What he said!" The goons set up Whistler so Lechero can cut him a new smile, nice and easy, but before he can get stabby, Michael shouts (rrrrrowr!), "You're a joke!" Then he goes back to the usual whispering, saying, "You talk about equality, you talk about justice, but at the end of the day, you're a dictator, and just like any dictator, you're terrified of losing your power." Lechero warns Michael to shut up, but the boy's running on righteous indignation now, so he continues, "You don't care who the real killer is, just as long as you get to string somebody up. That's all that matters to you, isn't it?" Lechero replies, "I've determined who's guilty, and the punishment is death."
So then Michael shouts (rrrrrowr!), "You're making a mistake! This is murder! You know it and I know it! At least have the guts to admit it!" so Lechero turns around and does so. We cut to Michael being all, "Shit! I had no idea he was going to actually call my bluff!" And then Lechero goes and gets stabby...
...Except he doesn't stab Whistler. He stabs the dude with the objectionable hair! It is a victory for tastemakers all over the southern hemisphere. Or perhaps it is just Lechero wrongly assuming that the guy was on Augusto's take with the cigars. (He put two and two together when he saw the cigar stub in the rubbish bin that Splenda knocked over, and Bad Hair Guy did smell like the stogies.) The dying guy turns to look at Sammy, who's pointedly looking away like nothing to see here, move along, Bleedy. Lechero finishes the guy by slitting his throat; Whistler looks more disgusted by this than Michael does. The two would-be escapees skedaddle. Sammy gives Lechero an inscrutable look.
Meanwhile, right outside...Sucre is busy spraying the fence while he's ostensibly prepping Tyge's body for burial. There's a tense moment when he thinks that someone's on to him, but it's just one of the prison employees waxing philosophical about how much it sucks to end up like Tyge.
We then move over to the car where Linc and Sofia are waiting for Susan B. When the lady pulls up, she hands over what looks like the same Polaroid, only with a different newspaper inserted. Susan B.'s all, "Hey, it's the best you get on short notice." You're telling me the One World Conspiracy -- which is chockablock with handwriting experts and surveillance camera wizards -- can't handle a simple Photoshop job?
Inside the prison, everyone's sort of staring warily. We see why: Lechero has strung up his ex-henchman so everyone can see what the punishment is for killing outside the ring. Sammy asks, "No football today?" Nope -- nobody gets to play. Well, that's another wrinkle in Michael's plan, isn't it? Lechero looks over and says, "You're my brother, Sammy." Sammy snorts and says, "Of course." The two walk inside. We get a final, lingering shot of the dead thug, strung up in a quasi-crucifixion style. Let him serve as an object lesson to anyone else considering that kind of hair!
A somber Linc is waiting for Michael at the usual meeting spot. After Michael confirms that the guard will be asleep in half an hour, he asks, "So we're good?" "Not quite," Linc replies. He shares the news that the One World Conspiracy is now hip to the actual timetable for the escape. Michael looks distraught, like, "I have been watching Animal Cops and they just found some poor horse starving to death" distraught. He asks, "You told her?" Linc says, "She worked it out." Michael is near tears as he asks, "Why didn't you lie?" Because Linc is already having a hard time keeping track of his assorted deceptions? Michael asks angrily, "What are we going to do to get the upper hand here, Linc? You think they're just going to turn over L.J. and Sara?" Linc argues that this is too dangerous, and if the brothers try anything.... Michael interrupts to say that the One World Conspiracy won't hurt the hostages if they want Whistler.
Linc leans in and says gently, "We're playing this one straight. No games, no surprises. All right?" Michael gives Linc a hunted look and pleads, "Show me the pictures?" Linc is now near tears himself. Michael whispers, "Show me the pictures, Linc," and then, "The pictures." Linc can't look at Michael as he admits, "I can't show you the pictures, man." Michael would like to know why not, and Linc finally faces Michael, closes his eyes, and says, "She's dead, Michael."
Michael's first expression isn't shock; it's a sad confirmation. (I think he had suspected something, and Linc finally admitting the truth only strips away the hope Michael had that he was wrong.) As Linc chokes out, "I lied to you. I'm sorry. If you don't break out today, they're going to kill my son," Michael stays silent, tearing up, trying to pull himself under control. Then he walks off as Linc shouts, "They're going to kill L.J. Michael, we've got to do this! Michael!"
And then we get a montage wherein Michael flings himself around the prison in a tremendous display of grief. It would be a lot more touching if it weren't given the musical-overlay-and-arty-transition business, but that's okay. I can see how devoting time to the protagonist's reaction upon hearing the news would totally drag down the story. It's not like Michael had a really intense emotional thing with Dr. Sara for two seasons, so why waste time exploring his reaction?
When we finally get out of the montage, Michael is walking down the steps and back into the courtyard, totally numb. He approaches Whistler and says, "Sara's dead." Then he looks stunned, as if saying it aloud made it even more real. Whistler turns to look at Michael, and Michael adds in a raw whisper, "They killed her." "I'm so sorry," Whistler responds. He walks off and Michael follows, saying, "I loved her." And you know, I really like how Wentworth Miller's playing it here and I think that the writers kept Michael's reaction true to character, but here is my quibble: loved? As in past tense? Within minutes of hearing about Dr. Sara's death? I'm thinking he's still in the present tense emotionally.
Anyway, Michael has decided he blames Whistler for Dr. Sara's death. Whistler turns around all, "What?" and Michael shakes off his hand. We get a shot of Bellick suddenly paying attention to proceedings. And then, we see that Lechero is now standing to Michael. Michael sniffles and whips out the chicken foot. Whistler is all, "Wha...huh?" Michael whispers, "This is your fault?" Whistler seems genuinely baffled. Lechero says, "He's told me his grievance. This fight is going to happen." And Lechero's looking pretty thrilled about that. Whistler makes a last ditch effort, exhorting Michael, "Just think about what you're doing!" Michael snarls, "I have!" He slams the chicken foot on the ground, and all the inmates in the courtyard cheer. The episode ends with the mob cheering, Whistler looking baffled, and Michael attempting to kill him through the power of Blue Steel.