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This episode had more capers than a Mediterranean restaurant. First, Team Scylla pulls off the Charybdis gobble of Scylla card #4 at a racetrack, but circumstances force Mahone to stay behind to grab Charybdis -- and he gets himself arrested and tossed in the pokey. There, he comes to the attention of Agent Blots Out the Sun, courtesy of Don Self (more on that below), and it looks like Mahone is about to get killed during his arraignment when Team Scylla shows up again to rescue him. Dr. Sara pretends to be Mahone's lawyer and steals his fingerprint card in the process, while Michael and Linc cause all the lights in the courthouse to short out. Once they're back at Team Scylla HQ, Mahone thanks them. There are no warm hugs and the episode does not end with a still shot of everyone high-fiving to an uplifting John Parr tune.
So how does Don Self sell Mahone down the river? Unintentionally, the big, dumb clod. He has now attracted the attention of the One World Conspiracy, which confirms that Don is apparently talented enough to bounce around the government, but enough of a troublemaker not to be what anyone would call a "rising star." That's what you get for failing the Goodling Ideological Purity Test, my boy. Anyway, Agent Blots Out the Sun confronts Don in re: his snooping, Don manages to hold his own without soiling his shorts, but he does keep his I-visited-Mahone-and-left-him-to-rot-in-prison ticket in clear view of the agent, so that is how Agent Blots Out the Sun comes to track Mahone down. At the end of the episode, Mahone calls him to inform him that he is looking forward to the two of them finally meeting, what with his burning need to extract revenge from the monster who killed his son. Then he tosses the slip of paper with Agent Blots Out the Sun's phone number and Roland quickly picks it up. I am hoping that Mahone is setting Roland up for later, and not that Mahone is making dumb mistakes around an unknown factor.
Also, we get a little bit of Gretchen backstory: she has a sister somewhere in the greater Los Angeles area, and that sister is understandably wigged when the brutalized and filthy Gretchen shows up on her doorstep. One shower later, we learn that Gretchen's souvenirs to her sister come packed with firearms and cash, the sister's daughter Emily is, in fact, Gretchen's biological child, and Gretchen has just gone into business for herself. She begins tracking down Whistler's loose ends.
And they are loose indeed, as T-Bag learns that corporate America is in many ways more mentally punishing than prison ever was. He flees the office -- thereby invalidating my entry for Tricia in the death pool -- and heads back to the condo so he can wipe his prints before leaving. There, T-Bag takes his first on-screen punch of the season courtesy of Gretchen, and it is awesome. Then she steps on his face with her spike heel. The bitch is back! And I mean that in a totally complimentary way.
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Want more? The full recap starts right below!The episode opens with cleavage. A last-ditch effort to lure in viewers? Or to retain them? I like to imagine someone watching and grousing, "I have given FOX an hour of my Monday night and they have given me -- whoa! Hey! Cleavage! Thank you, FOX!" Anyway, the episode begins with Dr. Sara in a "hel-lo, Nurse!" outfit of halter top, Wonderbra, jeans and shades. She ascends an escalator at a racing track and walks across the betting lobby. As she passes Michael -- who is dressed like my grandfather in a baggy oxford and near-shapeless bucket hat -- he smirks appreciatively. She chides him, "Don't get used to it." Michael strides off all Surely, you're not planning on wearing a burqua on the high seas? and walks by Linc, handing him a ticket and tells him, "SparkleKid, gate eight." Oooh, is it a vampire horse? One that can read minds and see the future? Oh please, oh please, oh please! (For those of you who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about: be grateful. Or do a search online for "Twilight" and "dazzle" and "vampires." But don't blame me for what you find.)
Ahem. Michael continues his walk and leans over at a table. Mahone comes up -- also dressed in a baggy blue oxford, not looking like anyone's grandpa -- and settles to Michael. The two stare around. Dr. Sara walks up to the betting counter, channels one of the Girls Door and announces she would like to place some bets. to her, Bellick places an exacta on Captain Brody and Mr. Hooper in the first race. Nice shout-out to Jaws, writers. Please tell me that later in the season, Michael will say to Dr. Sara, "We're going to need a bigger boat." Anyway, Bellick places his exacta, then throws a huge, inappropriate, completely-in-the-wrong tantrum about how he asked for a quinella instead. (Apropos of nothing: a quinella does not sound like "I'm betting on two horses to finish first and second in no specific order." It sounds like a very formal dance, one that would show up in a Regency romance.) I can't bear to watch this poor woman being abused for doing absolutely nothing wrong, so let's move on.
Dr. Sara shares my sentiment. She leaves. Across the hall, Michael and Mahone give the nod to the waiting Sucre -- also resplendent in a blue shirt, also wearing a hat (this one straw) -- and Sucre summons a security guard to go see about the ruckus Bellick is making. Having dispatched the guard, Sucre gives Linc the go-ahead to enter the paddock. So help me, if Linc gingers up a horse, I will have to cut him dead.
We cut to Louis, the operations manager, being summoned to deal with Bellick's hissy. Michael and Mahone watch Louis leave (he exits via a side door, which is guarded by what looks to be the offspring of Ed Helms and a giraffe), then nod to Dr. Sara. She walks by the security guard and drops a whole lot of betting tickets. The guard calls for her to come back and get them, and Dr. Sara channels Blanche DuBois, all dependent upon the kindness of strangers. Since the guard is a fan of indeterminate southern accents -- or quite possibly cleavage -- he hangs around long enough for Michael and Mahone to amble on into the employees-only area undetected. Then we flash to Lincoln outside; he's looking at a betting slip with SparkleKid's name circled and he's holding a small box. SparkleKid's going to be in gate eight, so it appears that Linc has some work to do.
Bellick's temper tantrum comes to an abrupt end when the security guard shows up. Then we flash to Michael and Mahone inside the security office. As Mahone watches the monitors, Michael tapes Charybdis to the underside of the desk, then calls Roland. We go to Roland saying with some detached satisfaction, "Cahd-holdah numbah foah, youah up." That is one wicked smaaaaht accent he's got there!
Cahd holdah numbah foah is, unsurprisingly, another older white dude sporting the Silver Mane of Corruption. I find this show's tonsorial semiotics utterly fascinating. Anyway, this cardholder is something of a well-heeled racing aficionado, and he's all dorked up for SparkleKid to win. I am not, as the horse shows no sign of sparkling. (However, this does not mean the horse is not a vampire. It only means the horse is an awesomely cool vampire. Oh please, oh please, oh please...) Linc and Sucre exit the paddock. We cut to Michael bellying up to the rail so he can see the race; he's also holding a small device in his hand. We hear reveille, we cut to the card-holder looking all smug and happy, then we go inside, where Bellick, Dr. Sara and Mahone are all standing around looking at a monitor where the race will be shown.
Aaaaaand the horses are off. Except for SparkleKid, because Michael pressed his device and the gate stuck. As we see Cahd holdah numbah foah stamp off to chew Louis a new one for the faulty gate, we cut to Michael smiling smugly. Ah, Michael, using your big brain to craft a remote control to block the gate's opening signal!
Then he's back in the concourse and raising Roland on the phone. We cut to Cahd holdah numbah foah -- AKA "Mr. Addison" -- throwing the full weight of his Old Privileged White Guy status around to get Louis to review the tape of the race's start. Addison confirms that indeed, the gate was stuck and asks, "What? Happened? To? His? Gate?" Louis is gibbering his I-don't-knows when his walkie-talkie crackles with news: someone has found something on gate eight where SparkleKid was placed. I hope for Linc's sake that he wiped off his prints before he planted that device. Anyway, Roland confirms that Charybdis gobbled up the card, but before anyone on Team Scylla can break out in the celebration dance, they have to get Charybdis back from the office. And that job has just gotten a little tougher, as there's a melee in the main area, the cops are about to come in, and fully 83% of Away Team Scylla happen to be wanted men. So Mahone sends Michael away and tackles Operation Retrieve Charybdis himself.
Dr. Sara, bless her, tries an assist, and manages to distract the guard long enough to get Mahone into the employee's-only area. But when she begins asking more betting questions like "I put $500 of my boss's money on Orca's Revenge?" -- which, another nice Jaws shout-out, but where's the love for Quint? -- the guy loses his temper and sends her away. Mahone's like fine, I'll try a side area. He immediately runs into a guard, and before you can say, "Oh, crap," Mahone's been arrested. The rest of the team sees this development. Linc grouses because Mahone's got the device, while Sucre sums up the situation with "We're screwed."
We then cut to Riverside, California, and pan over a neighborhood that could double as the set for Camazotz if anyone ever wanted to make a decent version of A Wrinkle in Time. We see Susan B. knocking on the door in a different neighborhood -- what? This one has mature trees, compared to the denuded wonder of the establishing shot! -- and a woman in the house tells her elementary school-aged daughter to head up to her room. When the woman opens the door, she takes in Susan B.'s bruised, bloody and abraded figure and asks, "Oh my God, what happened to you?" Susan B. only croaks in reply, "Hey, sis." Then she lets herself in.
And then we cut to the one-plot-in-one-paragraph portion of the episode. Long story short: apparently the One World Conspiracy, or Whistler, or both, decided that there was no need to make Cole Pfeiffer's sales sheets at all accurate or, say, non-illegal. Andy smells blood in the water, and T-Bag realizes that he could go down for fraud. So he bolts, telling his blackmailer Tricia that it's been nice knowing her, and heads back to the condo, frantically wiping his prints as he goes. We do not cut back to Tricia stamping her foot and cursing her fool luck in not making "Cole" sign his commencement bonus check over to her.
Back at the plotline we all care about, "Frank Zwan" is getting booked for his shenanigans back at the track. Mahone is nervous and says, "Listen, sergeant, I know a decent amount about the justice system, enough to know that you could drop this whole thing if you wanted to, and save a lot of trouble for everybody." Oh, the sergeant doesn't mind going the extra step. He then asks what kind of phone Charybdis is. It's the kind of phone that security professionals have nightmares about, Mahone does not answer. Instead, he blames the Japanese for their crafty, off-market devices. And then the sergeant asks about the ankle monitor, and Mahone lies, "I've been on the straight and narrow, and it's due to come off in a few days." Then his pants burst into flames. Mahone is then fingerprinted -- oh, Frank Zwan, it was nice knowing you -- and he is still trying to talk his way out of being booked, but Officer Diligent is really, really cheesed that Mahone knocked out a fellow member of the force. Well, if that's his criteria for getting huffy, it looks like Linc's Christmas card list just shrunk.
We cut to Don Self's voice shrilling on a mobile phone: "What do you mean 'he got arrested'? What happened?" Linc is all, "Don't get bogged down in 'details,' man, just get our guy out of prison. We don't have time to come up with a plan, get Michael re-tattooed, get thrown in jail and break Mahone out ourselves. Remember Scylla?" Don Self asks, "What do you think -- every time you guys screw things up, I can just make things magically disappear?" Linc snaps, "We ain't interested in your excuses. Can you do it or not?" Don Self is about to debate this when he notices some new, mysterious guy tapping away at his computer. So Don goes charging into his office, all irritated bluster, and Brian from IT gives him a snootful of prissy didacticism with "I have level two clearance. It's what I do: I go into people's offices, I fix their computers. I just figured it was better to do it when you weren't here." Don Self does not appreciate Brian's approach in the slightest. And why should he? Even though he does not know Brian the IT guy is the same One World Conspiracy drone who closed last week's episode, Don Self at least has the brains to suspect.
When Linc comes back into HQ and announces that "Self's on it," Michael asks, " 'On it' as in he's getting Mahone out?" Linc grunts, "He said he'd handle it." Bellick wants to know, "What's there to handle? Self yanked all of us out of prison on way bigger charges. Getting Mahone out should be easy, shouldn't it?" Linc grunts that it should, but that fails to lift morale, so Michael's all, "Hello, has anyone forgotten that we have another two cardholders to go?" We get introduced to cardholder number five, one Howard Scaderi. He runs Agrisow, the world's largest agricultural conglomerate. And hey, guess which company has huge holdings in Laos? During food riots? Truly, being part of the One World Conspiracy can come in handy.
And then we get the reminder of when it does not, as we see the badly abused Gretchen getting out of a long shower. There is a montage where she looks at herself in the mirror and cries, but she soon gets over that and gets back into her usual mode: barely contained, murderous rage overlaid with a thin veneer of calm. We then see her sister Rita downstairs going over reading homework with her daughter, and the minute Gretchen walks in, Rita sends her girl out again. Gretchen watches her go with some sadness. Rita offers Gretchen a sandwich ("Thank you," Gretchen says, with surprising demureness). As Gretchen gulps it down, Rita prods for information on what happened. Gretchen unconvincingly lies about her car breaking down in the desert, and her lie is so bad, I get distracted and notice that she's now sporting a really nice manicure with unchipped gold nail polish. So she had time to do her nails in the bathroom? Good for her! Gretchen then asks, "Do you still have that owl? That I sent from Germany? I need to see it." Rita brings it out of a display cabinet, and Gretchen drops it on the counter, revealing the stash of ammo, credit cards, cash and a firearm she had secreted inside. Rita looks as if she can't decide what's more appalling: the fact that her sister's been storing shady stuff in the house, or that her sister broke what had been a charming Old Country souvenir. Rita says, "You don't work for the IRS." "I don't," Gretchen deadpans. Rita asks, "Who do you work for?" Gretchen replies, "As of now? Myself." Oh, the One World Conspiracy better watch -- wait, what am I saying? The only thing Gretchen has managed to actually do right on this show is break out of prison. Everything else has gone pear-shaped on her. She's going to make a terrible freelancer.
We cut to Agent Blots Out the Sun giving General Von Baldy the 411 on Don Self. It turns out Don Self has spent the last 18 years working in assorted departments (DOD and DOJ) before finally ending up at Homeland Security in 2002. Ooh, I bet he was one of the first attorneys that Monica Goodling subjected to her "Are you a witch? Or a liberal? Either way, you'll burn!" test. Brian then comes in with bad news: "I tried to access Self's user account, but he has a tricky firewall system in place. There's no easy way to get past it, not without drawing attention." General Von Baldy gives Agent Blots Out the Sun a meaningful look, as opposed to giving Brian a deeply skeptical one and asking, "Really? 'Tricky firewall system'? This guy can't tie his shoes without something going awry, and you're telling me he's somehow joined the ranks of tool-using primates? Try again, prissy." Agent Blots Out the Sun promises to deliver unto Self the note reading, "Are you interested in my friend Von Baldy? Check one: [ ] yes [ ] no."
But before Self can have his date with destiny, he has to fail to get Mahone out of the pokey. And he fails spectacularly, ending with shouted threats to have Officer Diligent placed on a no-fly list. Congratulations for confirming every dark suspicion we've had about Homeland Security folks, Self. Anyway, Don makes his way back to Mahone and asks him to sign -- well, not release papers, but papers to collect Mahone's personal effects. In other words, Don Self has come for Charybdis, and he can't take Mahone. The ex-FBI agent points out, "They're going to run my prints and once they --" "You punched a cop!" Don interrupts. "Trying to save the mission!" Mahone points out. Don Self tells Mahone to talk in his indoor voice when referring to Team Scylla, and puts pressure on Mahone to sign away his possessions. "You -- you want me to sign away the one thing that makes me valuable to the team," Mahone says, tired and frustrated. Don Self shoots back, "You knew the deal when you came on board. We all sacrificed a lot to get this far. You want to flush it down the toilet because you made a bad move?" No, Mahone does not. He signs and hands over the clipboard with a sullen fury. Don Self looks remorseful.
We transition from Mahone looking despairing to Michael looking thoughtful. Linc shares the news about Self fetching Charybdis but not Mahone, and Sucre protests, "But Mahone -- he's part of the team!" Bless Sucre's heart: he's got the no-man-left-behind credo even after being left behind at Sona last year. Linc reasons, "I feel just as bad about his kid as anyone else, but we can't blow this mission on one person." Sucre's suitably appalled by that, but Linc is implacable. Roland reasons, "An assassin is trying to hunt us down, okay? And that T-Bag character's out on the wind with the keys to the castle. We got enough problems without having to worry about this guy's ass in jail." Sucre cordially invites Roland to shut his insolent cereal-hole, thereby fulfilling this episode's requirement for Roland Abuse. Dr. Sara points out that the minute the cops run Mahone's prints, his alias is toast, and Bellick takes that to its logical conclusion: the Supermax lie will be found out, and that makes all of them vulnerable too. Sucre appeals to Michael for a decision, and Michael backs up Linc: "We don't have a choice. We move forward with the plan." Nobody looks relieved by the decision, possibly because everyone has just realized how expendable they are.
Back at the federal building, Don Self's getting out of his car and walking to the elevator when Agent Blots Out the Sun bars his egress. Don Self blanches, and Agent Blots Out the Sun explains that he's a pal of General Von Baldy's and the general is not a big fan of having his privacy violated. Self improvises that he was looking into General Von Baldy because he's concerned about his safety, what with all those terrorists out there, and Agent Blots Out the Sun asks, "Is there a particular threat I should know about? Maybe you should debrief me on the situation." Self immediately asks for Agent Blots Out the Sun's clearance level, and when Agent Blots Out the Sun is forced to admit that he is but a hired hand, Don Self snarks, "I usually don't make a habit of giving civilians who corner me in underground parking structures classified information. If the general wants information, he can call me." Agent Blots Out the Sun recovers from the shock of not having people dissolve into a damp puddle of fear at his feet, then says, "I think we got off on the wrong foot." Ha! Self walks off huffily, leaving Agent Blots Out the Sun to notice Self's ticket from visiting police station #11 recently.
Don Self then scampers over to Team Scylla HQ, where he tells Michael his "I just met Agent Blots Out the Sun!" story. Michael's all, "Well, now you know what it's like to be my girlfriend." "Oh, I wish" Don Self gushes. Oh, he does not either. But admit it, you were thinking it. He hands over Charybdis and then begins talking about Mahone, pointing out, "If [Agent Blots Out the Sun] can find me, he can find Mahone." Yeah, and you just made it ten times easier, jackass. Don Self offers to simplify the situation by maybe having Mahone killed, and Michael says, "That's not an option." Don Self begs to differ: "If a choice has to be made between him or us...?" and then he trails off because Michael is giving him the Blue Steel and it's making him feel all funny inside.
Back at the jail, Officer Diligent is offering Mahone a deal: give up his accomplice (Michael), and the charges can be altered. As Officer Diligent makes his sales pitch about how Mahone just wants to go home to his wife and family, Mahone flashes on Pam and Cameron, then to Michael blowing him off in Sona. But he declines to say anything.
Meanwhile, the edgy Team Scylla is trying to focus on Cardholder #5 and the fact that he'll have the card on him at all times. Michael is nattering on about how they'll break into the Scaderi place after overloading the system, but Bellick would rather brood about how, the minute something goes wrong, the unlucky sucker gets thrown to the wolves. This prompts Sucre to remember that indeed, he has had the left-behind-in-a-bad-situation treatment, so Michael's now facing two mutinous bald guys. Roland helpfully weighs in: "Maybe we should have a plan for when the cops get here, because if Mahone squeals, they're going to get here real quick. He's a Fed. How many deals you think this guy's made in his life." I don't know. Why don't we ask Oscar Shales? Linc tells Roland to shut his cereal-hole (making sure we ride through the episode full up on Roland Abuse), and Michael attempts to regain control of the situation by arguing that, "We can sit here and debate what Mahone is or is not going to do for the rest of the day. But it comes down to this. We cannot break him out of a police station." Everyone around the table looks like they're thinking, "Oh? Really?"
Michael takes a break from planning to nuke Cardholder #5's security system, because he feels like chatting up his lady. Dr. Sara's hanging out on her ship, and she crystallizes Michael's moral dilemma with "If the roles were reversed and you were locked up, you really think Alex would risk it all to get you out? He was a federal agent. I think he'd finish what he started. I think he'd bring the One World Conspiracy down." Well. I think someone has just become planner of how to break Mahone out of a police station. Either that or I totally misread his look and Michael's like, "I'll see Mahone thrown into a dungeon with a mask welded on his face! Dr. Sara can't think highly of another man!" When Michael gets all pop-eyed with concentration, it means he's going in a weird direction, no matter what.
Agent Blots Out the Sun has decided to visit the police station. He confirms that Don Self was here to see "Frank Zwan" and lies about being a family friend. Officer Diligent is apologetic: "I'm afraid you can't see him right now. He's about to be transferred for his arraignment." (Which, by the way, Agent Blots Out the Sun plans on being at.) However, Mahone can see Agent Blots Out the Sun, and boy, he is not cool right now. In fact, he's looking like he really wishes he were back on the smack.
Back at Team Scylla HQ, the remaining Away Team members are heading into a van. Mahone calls Michael to give him the heads-up on Agent Blots Out the Sun's appearance at the station house. He's baffled as to how he was tracked so quickly, but continues, "It's over for me. It's done. And I'm not going to say anything about anything. But you need to promise me something, okay?" Michael impatiently says, "Okay? What?" Mahone asks him, "Promise me that you will get to Agent Blots Out the Sun and you will kill the son of a bitch. Then you'll kill Pam and you'll tell her that he's gone." Oh, Mahone, I wouldn't ask. Michael still has to make a visit to a cancer-raddled woman in Indiana, thanks to a promise he made back in season one. He might not get around to Agent Blots Out the Sun for years. But Michael promises. And a barely-composed Mahone whispers his goodbyes.
We cut to Gretchen busy telling someone on the phone, haltingly, "I'm his wife ... I'm sorry, I'm still in shock. I'll be down this afternoon. Thank you." Rita looks on disapprovingly -- either because she knows Gretchen's lying or because she wasn't in the wedding party and the exclusion still stings. She asks Gretchen, "Who are you?" Gretchen shrugs, "I have some things I need to take care of. You don't need to worry." Rita follows Gretchen into another room and exposits, "You have this ... switch inside you, where you can just turn yourself off. You did it when Mom died, you did it with [the little girl] Emily, you did it with me." Gretchen slings her satchel over her shoulder and turns to Rita with a deeply unhappy look on her face. She says, "I did it because it's just who I am." Rita begs to differ. "You used to be --" she starts, but Gretchen interrupts with, "I have to go. But thank you. For everything." Rita's nearly in tears, and she confirms that Gretchen's not going to take Emily. Gretchen says, "If I was [sic] capable of being her mother, I wouldn't have given you custody." She walks over to say goodbye to Emily, and we see the resemblance, and when Gretchen kisses the top of Emily's head, she gets teary and whispers, "I love you." As she heads out, Rita asks if she'll see Gretchen again. As Gretchen heads out, she pauses, her face bleak with grief. "I don't know," she says. And now, improbably, I'm sort of rooting for her to get a happy ending. I am such a sucker for backstory. But I like the idea of Gretchen sort of settling into the house in Riverside and, you know, assassinating uptight members of the PTA whenever they wrong Rita during fundraising night.
Team Scylla is now parking by some electrical switch boxes and planning some sort of mayhem. That Michael, he's good with the bold-cutters.
We cut to Don Self in his office. He dials his voicemail -- "To listen to your messages, press one" -- and the first one is from a woman who cheerily announces, "Hey, honey, it's me. I'm at the grocery store. I was planning on making those grilled pork chops, unless you're not in the mood for them. I hope you're having a great day." As Don listens, he sort of smiles, and he holds the framed picture of a beaming, chestnut-haired woman. I'm going to go ahead and wildly speculate here: that's his wife (we saw a wedding band on his nightstand in a prior episode, but he never wears it), she's dead and it's the fault of the One World Conspiracy. Once Don's done listening to that message, he fires up his computer to see what those scamps on Team Scylla are up to, and notices five of them clustered around a building in downtown L.A. Out comes the speed-dial: "What are you guys doing?" Michael answers brusquely, "We'll call you when we're done." Aww, it's sweet how he's helping Don Self maintain plausible deniability.
We cut to the courtroom where Mahone and a few other people are getting arraigned. Mahone looks like he's seen the Grim Reaper which, come to think of, he sort of has. The hulking mass of flesh to Mahone sheepishly waves at the saucer-eyed sweetie who is waving at him. Mahone, however, does not wave at Agent Blots Out the Sun. Instead, he looks like he's fighting the urge to levitate out of his seat and go after the man's throat with his teeth.
Speaking of people who would rip out a man's throat with their teeth, here's Gretchen. She's trying to get Whistler's effects released from the Los Angeles county coroner, but he's immune to the ersatz tears of an ersatz widow. The coroner is not, however, immune to a vicious haymaker. He goes down like the stock market and Gretchen takes off with Whistlers effects, including a mobile phone. She checks the message, which gives her the address for the apartment Whistler had set up. Oh, this is going to be good.
Mahone and Agent Blots Out the Sun are still engaged in a staring contest when Dr. Sara walks in, looking all sassy with some serious Pantene glossy hair and a smart black suit. She makes her way over to the table where the lawyers are and says, "I'm representing Frank Zwan. I'm going to need his jacket from you." The public defender says, "I thought he was indigent." Dr. Sara smoothly lies, "He was. His mother in Santa Barbara, however, is not, and she retained me this morning." The defender's like, "Suits me," and tosses over the file. (On a side note: if I were Michael, I'd be very nervous about my lady's ability to lie like a fine Persian rug.)
Then we see a dapper (and underutilized) Sucre in the back row, discreetly counting down into a mobile phone. Agent Blots Out the Sun decides to get up and stroll to a more convenient spot, and Mahone has to be reminded to sit down. Sucre finishes his count, and that's when the lights go out really dramatically. In the ensuing chaos, Agent Blots Out the Sun manages to lose track of Mahone. We also see that Sucre is gone. Hey! He's escorting Mahone outside.
Agent Blots Out the Sun gives pursuit, and there's a moment when he locks eyes with Mahone in a stairwell. You can tell that both men fervently wish that looks could really kill. But then Mahone's hustled out, he's thrown into an SUV and Michael says only, "Let's go." Dr. Sara has discreetly exited out the front and gotten her car, and she circles around to get Sucre. Then -- oh, so exciting! -- Agent Blots Out the Sun has the getaway vehicle in his sights, it's moving at parade-float speed on account of all the pedestrians milling around, Agent Blots Out the Sun is hiding a gun in a newspaper so he can shoot at the scrunched-down-so-nobody-sees-him Mahone ... and then the cops pull up, so Agent Blots Out the Sun must reluctantly abandon his plan to kill someone in the middle of a crowded street in the middle of the day. Instead he does the finger-guns thing. Mahone's all, Yeah, whatever. Bellick speeds off.
When everyone pulls up at Team Scylla HQ, Mahone awkwardly says, "I don't know if, uh, you guys did this for the team or you did it for me. And I don't care. I just -- thank you." That's it. Roland does not pipe up that he had nothing to do with this, nobody hugs or high-fives, there's just some very socially-awkward standing around before everyone disperses. Dr. Sara hands over Frank Zwan's print sheet, so he's officially out of the system.
That mushy business out of the way, Mahone scampers outside and calls Agent Blots Out the Sun's number. Mahone opens with, ""I got your message." "I was wondering when you were going to call," Agent Blots Out the Sun drawls. Mahone says, "You told my wife you wanted me to turn myself in. So, ah, why don't you tell me where to go and I'll meet you? Let's get this over with." Two notes here: first, I'd be distraught if I weren't convinced this is Mahone setting a trap. Second, I love that he refers to Pam as "his wife." It's such a nice little detail. Agent Blots Out the Sun snots about how "there's a great deal of things for us to talk about." Mahone's all, "Really? Because I'm only in the mood to discuss how you killed my son." Agent Blots Out the Sun claims it was nothing personal, merely the way the One World Conspiracy operates, but Mahone is not having any of that: "I promise you, we will meet again. And when we do, I'm going to show you just how personal things can get." Agent Blots Out the Sun merely cocks an eyebrow at that.
Mahone comes back inside and deliberately tosses Agent Blots Out the Sun's number in a trash can. Out of the shadows scurries young Roland, and he grabs the piece of paper. I hope like heck that Mahone's setting up Roland based on that sketchy conversation they had out on the docks. It would frost me if Mahone was being careless. I suppose we'll see ...
And in the final scene, T-Bag is frantically trying to wipe down his prints in the apartment, muttering biliously about Cole Pfeiffer all the while, when, whoops -- look what he walked into? It's Gretchen's fist. She connects with T-Bag's glass jaw and he's down on the floor. She then pins him there with one cruel heel and demands to know, "Who the hell are you?' Well! I for one am breathless with anticipation to see how this introduction turns out.
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