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So the good news is that the U.S. government is as horrified by the whole Don-Self-went-rogue thing as Team Scylla. The bad news is that Don's boss Herb decides that the best way to clean up this whole covert-ops mess is to kill everyone on Team Scylla. Were it not for the fact that Michael and Mahone had anticipated this -- and ensured that only Lincoln and Michael made it to the meeting place where Herb and Senator Dallow BS'd them until the shooting began -- Team Scylla would have ended up dead. As it was, Michael and Lincoln are saved by a One World Conspiracy stooge who was dispatched to bring them in to General Von Baldy so he could kill the boys. Then Sucre shows up at the warehouse where all this shooting and double crossing has taken place and neutralizes the stooge (exciting!), and then Lincoln kills the stooge as he tries to walk away (disconcerting!), and then Senator Dallow is all, "Look, this never happened, and I'm not really living in fear of losing any votes since, as convicted felons, you didn't have the franchise anyway. So just let me walk out." The boys do, but we've established that they're super-screwed: Not only is there no record of their deal with Don Self, they're back to being wanted by the government, by the One World Conspiracy and by Don Self. At least they all have each other -- except for Mahone, who's disappeared for reasons as yet unknown. (He does, however, imply to Sara and Sucre that he and Michael have a plan. So I hold out hope that he's not a double-crossing weasel.)
As for the One World Conspiracy: Card-holder #5, Scuderi (he of the non-working manparts and raging gambling addiction) mouths off to General Von Baldy in a meeting and is promptly shot and killed for his trouble. For some reason, Lisa is shocked -- shocked! -- that her daddy could gun someone down in cold blood.
Speaking of Don Self: we are given no clue as to why he's suddenly a bad-ass evil guy, but here he is -- badass and evil. How much so? He's using T-Bag to hold Gretchen's sister and daughter hostage, and making Gretchen line up another buyer for Scylla, what with Trisha having killed the one. Gretchen does line up the buyer, but Don is dismayed to learn that Michael has a part of Scylla hidden in his pants (well, he doesn't know about that part -- he just knows Michael's got a crucial chip). The episode ends with Don threatening Michael over the phone. Michael is all, "Bring it." Oh, it will be broughten.
See some of the more implausible moments on this show. Come back on Monday for the full recap.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Elisabeth Kubler-Ross posited that bereaved people pass through five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, despair and acceptance. There are five surviving and non-treasonous members of Team Scylla. So how appropriate is it that the episode starts with Sucre playing the part of denial ("He can't do this!") while Lincoln indulges in a little anger ("Self screwed us."). Then LINCOLN SMASH, beating the bejeesus out of the whiteboard where Team Scylla had planned all their capers. Once he's got all that out of his system, Michael announces the step: he'll call Homeland Security and see exactly what they know about Don Self.
We then transition to gruff Homeland Security boss Herb Stanton fielding a call -- but it's from Don Self, who very convincingly fakes his own death with this little monologue: " ... It was Scofield ... and Burrows ... I think I'm shot ... I'm shot ... [mumble, mumble] you were right ... about this whole operation ... no, Burrows! BURROWS! [sound of gunshots]." Herb looks suitably horrified at hearing Don Self's apparent last moments.
We see that Don has been walking toward T-Bag whilst performing his one-man show, and T-Bag shrinks back in his seat, muttering, "No, no, no" as Don leans in through the window. Don pokes in his gun and says, "I need to find Gretchen. You gonna help me, or am I gonna shoot you in the face?" T-Bag will take option #1, please.
Back at Team Scylla HQ, Mahone's pacing around while everyone else listens raptly to Michael navigating the phone tree at Homeland Security. Linc mutters, "We gave this guy something worth a hundred million dollars." Sucre has moved on to the hitherto-undocumented portion of the grieving process known as "elaborate conspiracy theories," postulating that Don Self may not have even been a Fed. Mahone smacks that down with logic and reason, but when have either of those cognitive functions ever made a dent on Sucre? When Michael finally gets connected to Herb, he hangs up, possibly because he shares Dr. Sara's concern that Homeland Security is in on Don Self's set-up job. Mahone hotly points out that "[Don Self[ kept himself too insulated. That's why -- that's why he hesitated with official authorizations on behalf of our mission. He kept saying it was because he didn't want [the One World Conspiracy] to know. In actuality, it's because he didn't want to get caught, that son of a bitch!" Then he calms down a little and reminds everyone that if Homeland Security already knows where Team Scylla HQ is, then sooner or later, they'll be paying a visit. Mahone votes for taking off. Dr. Sara reminds everyone that Michael needs surgery, and Michael rolls his eyes with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Mahone argues, "I'm not talking about running. I'm talking about surviving."
Meanwhile, over at One World Conspiracy HQ, General Von Baldy's decided to get his drink on. And why not? Who among us would be temperate after a day in which our much younger mistress yanked us around, our daughter got kidnapped and our elaborate plans all came tumbling down like so many Jenga pieces? No matter how much top-shelf whiskey the general knocks back, he can't stop the flashbacks to Michael and Lincoln's smugger moments, so General Von Baldy ends up distracting himself with a little light barware-smashing. His nearby stooge helpfully waits until the general is finished before reminding him that there's a One World Conspiracy board meeting downstairs.
We then zoom on down to the meeting in progress, where General Von Baldy is putting one heck of a spin on recent events: "Today marks a critical juncture in our endeavors ..." Cardholder #5, AKA Scuderi, AKA the guy who goes trolling for his wife's sex toys in Las Vegas, is not having any corporate doublespeak: "Do we have a bead on Scylla yet?" General Von Baldy continues to rally the troops with, "Our security, our future stands at a great precipice." Scuderi again interrupts, "It's a yes or no question, Jonathan. We don't need a soliloquy." General Von Baldy tries to shunt Howard off to his office before any of the other board members/card holders can begin fomenting rebellion, but Howard's intent on holding General Von Baldy accountable: "I'm in here, making sure this operation isn't fumbled as well." Von Baldy spits, "Out. Now." Howard persists, "What's your plan, Jonathan? That's what we're all here for, right? You tried to move Scylla over our better judgment and it backfired, so ... spill it." General Von Baldy's plan is to shoot Howard where he stands. He then retrieves Howard's card and asks, "Any further questions?" HA! I love it. We cut to Lisa looking freaked out that her dad's a little trigger-happy. To which I have to ask: Seriously? It never occurred to her before that her dad didn't get to be the grand high warlock of the One World Conspiracy by being Mister Nice Guy? Anyway, everyone's now super-motivated to retrieve Scylla today.
Then we cut to Michael having a private moment in the bathroom. He's examining a tiny computer chip and looking broody. Perhaps he wishes it was a chocolate chip; few things mitigate stress so effectively as comfort eating. (And it looks like Michael's already figured that out.) Michael then steps into a toilet stall -- it's lit up with a green bulb for that special David-Fincher-presents-interiors-of-the-serial-killers touch -- and lifts up a ceiling tile, perhaps to hide the chip. Then he has a little tumor-induced fit, and has to sit a spell. Linc eventually finds him and yanks him to his feet. He moistens some paper towels as a cool compress, and in an oddly gentle gesture, runs his hand over Michael's skull before decreeing, "Sara's right. We need to get you to a hospital." Michael says in frustration, "We were so close to the finish line, Linc." Linc says soothingly, "I know. Listen, I spoke to LJ yesterday." "Who?" Michael asks. "Who is this 'Ell Jaaay' person and why have you not mentioned him before?" Oh, not really, but he should, shouldn't he? Anyway, Linc bucks Michael up with the same speech he gave LJ: this will all be over soon, because Lincoln says so. Michael is enjoying his pity party -- so festive! -- with a little set of handcuffs in each goody bag, no doubt, and moans that he should have seen this coming. Lincoln's like, "No ..." but I am like, "Absolutely. Having your adventures on the run taught you nothing?" Anyway, Linc gently persuades Michael that they've got to go. And not a moment too soon, as the shot is of Herb and his Homeland buddies swarming all over Team Scylla HQ. Watching from one dock away, Mahone comments, "Now we know where we stand." You sure do.
As if on cue, Michael's phone rings. It's Herb, and he wants Michael to come back to Team Scylla HQ for a little chat. Michael's fine with that, "but first we want some assurances." Herb's expression reads, "Assurances are crazy talk," but he plays along on the phone with "I'd have to take another look at [the terms of your agreement], but I'm fairly certain they didn't include stealing Scylla or killing two federal agents in cold blood." Michael's all, "Come again?" and it only hits him then that Don Self has set them up to take the fall for Trisha's murder and his own. Herb wants the members of Team Scylla to turn themselves in. As Michael shouts, "Self set us up" Herb continues, "Don't [come back] and I'll hunt you down like animals."
Cut to Team Scylla hanging out in a remarkably clean and spacious room in what's plainly meant to be San Pedro's finest no-tell hotel. Sucre is playing with a deck of cards, and Linc is busy looking out the window and huffing, "We did what they said. I ain't going down on no trumped-up murder charge." Besides, that plot premise is so season one. As Linc locks and loads his gun, Michael's all, "Look, I will think of something" but Linc is in no mood for clever schemes, shouting about how it's time to draw a line. Dr. Sara snaps, "Lincoln, don't be stupid. You can't fight off all of Homeland Security." Yes, but you can distract them by going through airport security lines with full-sized toiletries! That'll show 'em! Michael says that "all we have to do is flush Self out and prove he has Scylla." Sucre would like to know how Michael plans to do that. "I'll devise another strategy," Michael says, and Sucre cuts in, "Start devising a plan that can get us a hundred miles across the Mexican border. That's what we should do." Yeah, because everything went so well for everyone in the room when we took the action south of the U.S. border last time. (Hands up, all of you who would like to pretend season three didn't happen.) Michael says he's not running, and that's that.
We cut to the One World Conspiracy goons detailing their thus-far-fruitless attempts to track down either Team Scylla or Don Self. (Remember, they still believe Don Self to be on the side of the angels.) We cut to Lisa listening to all this and continuing her freakout over Dadddy's unfortunate killing tic.
Cut back to Michael complaining that he doesn't want to keep living out of hotels. And why the heck not? Not only do you reduce the odds that you'll accumulate lots of useless clutter, you have someone else doing all the housecleaning. Who wouldn't love that? Michael finishes, "Nothing changes: we take down the [One World Conspiracy], we finish what we started." It's no "We happy few, we band of brothers ..." and the skeptical looks on everyone's faces confirm that. Dr. Sara's all, "Well, so long as I'm here, I might as well book a surgical appointment for Michael," but Michael asks her to please hang up the phone. Before they can fight about how he neglects his health, Sucre draws everyone's attention to the TV newscast, where a well-coiffed reporter is breathlessly reporting that "Cole Pfeiffer, an employee of GATE, a downtown wellness organization, and his as-yet-unidentified female accomplice both seen here in police sketches ..." On a completely unrelated note, the news crawl at the bottom of the screen is talking about tainted beef, and it reads, "A list of effected vendors ..." and it is driving me nutty. We need federal funding for a National Grammar Agency. They can hire out-of-work liberals arts majors and dispatch them across the U.S. like a 21st century WPA, and thus indoctrinate us all on the differences between "affect" and "effect" or "lay" and "lie." It's a beautiful dream.
We transition to the sketches, where nobody has apparently noticed the Cole Pfeiffer looks a lot like Fox River Eight escapee Theodore Bagwell. Then we see that General Von Baldy's holding the sketches and asking incredulously, "Gretchen? Bagwell? Have our people at DOT monitor every traffic camera from San Diego to the Bay Area." Lisa's still giving him the stinkeye. You'd think it would be mitigated by her knowing that finally, she can say "I told you so" about Daddy's no-good girlfriend, but nooooo, she's still hung up on the fact that General Von Baldy shot Scuderi. General Von Baldy makes no apologies: "Knowing when to sever a cancerous limb --" "He was one of your most trusted advisors!" she interrupts. Von Baldy interrupts her with "I brought you in. I told you that a cardholder has certain responsibilities. If you can't handle what we're doing here, it's time you let me know." Well, that shuts Lisa right the heck up.
Back in the hotel room, the Fox news lady is still blathering on, and in a refreshing change from that organization's usual practices, she's actually referencing facts and things that are not intellectually dishonest insinuations. Truly, this show requires a massive suspension of disbelief. Mahone sits down and begins scheming with Michael: "If we're going to flush Self out, how do you think he intended to unload Scylla? He's got to sell it." Michael sighs as he realizes they'll be dealing with Gretchen again.
We then cut to Self driving along with T-Bag in the shotgun seat. T-Bag says, "Tell me when I'm getting warm. You hand-pick Michael Scofield and the bunch, trucked them all out here on Uncle Sam's dime for your bidding, and now they're standing right in the crosshairs for what you did. I gotta hand it to you, Don -- if that ain't the Mona Lisa. [Chuckles.] I always said cops are more crooked than criminals. Let me guess -- a little slice of heaven, that's what this was all about? A gambling debt? Maybe you're a geologist of the rock candy variety?" Stung by the insinuation that he's a cokehead, Self asks if the address T-Bag got from Gretchen's prints was right. It is, T-Bag says. Self points to the gun and says, "Good. Now shut up or I'll shoot you." He and T-Bag then spend the two minutes bickering over whether or not T-Bag knows to shut his mouth. Oh, how cute -- it's like a Crosby-and-Hope road movie. One can only hope Gretchen will play the Dorothy Lamour role!
Back at the hotel room, it's Michael's turn to stand at the window while Dr. Sara grouses, "How long does it take to find a pay phone in this city?" Michael makes soothing noises and we soon learn that Dr. Sara's agitated because she's about to give Michael yet another ill-advised injection to keep his tremors under control. As she stabs him, she says, "Here's the thing: you need help. And running around trying to track down Self isn't ... safe. You could be in Mexico in a few hours. There are doctors there that I trust. And you've been taking care of all of us. I really think it's okay if we take care of you." Michael tells her, "Surgery or no surgery, I'm never going to be able to live with myself unless I find a way to take these people down. It's that simple. And I get it -- I'm not going to demand that you feel the same way." Then he sighs, because things were so much simpler back when he was merely masterminding an elaborate, contingency-riddled plan to break out of prison and she was the helpful lady doc who would unwittingly abet his plans.
Down on the dock, Linc and Mahone are debating the smartest course of action -- to flee to parts unknown, what with every major law enforcement organization in the country after them, or stand firm and take down Self. Mahone is in favor of running: "I want this guy as much as you do, but we're scrambling here. I don't know how long Self has been planning this thing, and from the looks of it, it's pretty airtight." We cut to Linc clutching his head, all LINCOLN HEAD HURT FROM THINKING.
Meanwhile, Gretchen's just discovered a house full of dead Asian thugs. It sort of looks like the beginning of Kung Fu Hustle gone horribly wrong. On the plus side, Gretchen's lipstick looks fabulous. I must know her secret for keeping that perfect glossy finish wherever she is. When her phone rings, Linc greets her with "Gretchen." "I hope you were calling to tell me where Scylla is, Lincoln!" she snaps. Linc asks, "You don't know?" No! She doesn't, so Linc fills her in: "Self double-crossed us and he took Scylla. You know where he could be?" Gretchen pauses and visibly scrambles to put herself in Self's size-elevens. She finally says, "If I'm Self, I'm looking for a new buyer." Linc replies, "A new buyer? If you're playing me, I'm going to split you in half." Not if Gretchen and her Jungle Red claws have anything to say about it. However, she first feels like sinking them into Self, so she arranges to meet with Linc in an hour at Granhope Park. Then her phone rings again. It's Gretchen's sister, who says very tensely, "It's Emily. She's been in an accident." Gretchen immediately snaps, "I want you to tell whoever's got a gun on you to grow a set and get on the phone." Rita swallows hard and politely tells Self, "She wants to talk to you." Self takes the phone and asks, all frat-boy-like, "'S'up, Gretchen? Time to come home now." Oh, I hope he lives to regret this strategic move. His smugness is unforgivable.
Back at the hotel, Sucre is pointing out -- not unreasonably -- that Gretchen does not have a track record for upstanding behavior, what with her having waited for them at GATE with machine gun in hand. Linc relies, "This chick's a mercenary. She'll do whatever it takes to get what she wants, and right now, we just happen to want the same thing." There's some more hand-wringing on Sucre's part, and Michael and Mahone take turns expositing about how this is totally crazy, but they just might be able to bring Self down, and then everyone takes their Team Scylla walkie-talkies and prepares for the park meeting.
Herb from Homeland Security then walks into Senator Dallow's office and gets his official ass-chewing from the elected official: "We're in the middle of a manhunt, and it's just you and a couple of agents trying to reign in these cons! It's madness!" Herb points out that "no one knows -- and that's the way it's going to stay." Cue a knock at the door and a heavy-jawed younger man introducing himself as Richard Souter of the U.S. marshals. Souter explains, "I've been sent at the request of deputy direction Easemar to get to the bottom of the Scofield/Burrows supermax story. I'm hoping you gentlemen can help?" Cut to the senator looking horrified. However, Herb recovers and decides to fill Souter in -- off-screen -- on the whole sordid Team Scylla mess as he understands it.
In the One World Conspiracy board room, General Von Baldy's set up a white board with mug shots that's a mirror image of the one Michael had set up for him. After introducing everyone to Herb, Von Baldy says, "We've got a record of all incoming and outgoing calls from Homeland today. Stanton received a call lasting approximately one minute that connected to no-one -- no-one we could identify." Some eager young stooge hypothesizes that it's Self's phone. Meanwhile, the head goon from last week comes in to report that an L.A. traffic camera's picked up Gretchen. Also, some unnamed guy comes in with a future plot reference regarding some scheme General Von Baldy's got percolating in South Africa. I mention it here only so we can all shout, "A-HA!" later when everyone on screen is shocked -- shocked! -- by whatever plot contrivance hinges upon this seemingly trivial mention.
And now, it's time for the park meeting. All the Team Scylla members are scoping out the park from different angles, communicating via walkie-talkies, and Michael settles down to wait for Gretchen.
He'll be waiting a while because Gretchen is at Rita's place, playing, "Who's got a gun? I do!" as she stalks from room to room. When she hits the den, we see that T-Bag's got a gun on Rita and Emily, and Don Self quickly disarms Gretchen, then mocks her assurances to Rita that this will all work out. Not that Michael Rapaport doesn't do a believable job as a spiteful meathead, but I'm not quite buying the Dr. Jekyll-to-Mr. Hyde transformation from amiable meathead to malicious one. There should have been more foreshadowing. Anyway, Don attempts to blame this hostage situation on Gretchen, because if she hadn't sent him into Fang's House of Guns, then there wouldn't have been a shootout, and he'd have had a Scylla buyer. Now, he needs a Scylla buyer, so he wants Gretchen to find one. He then checks her received-calls log on her mobile phone and is kind of irked that she's been talking to "Scofield and the boys." I like how Lincoln is in her contact list. Don asks how Team Scylla is. "They're good and pissed," Gretchen says. Don is not too concerned about this, but he would like to know where everyone is. "Gee, Don, I don't know. I'm not their mother," Gretchen snaps. Don doesn't appreciate this sort of impertinence, so he orders T-Bag to be all creepy around Emily, and Gretchen promptly rolls over on the guys. Don's delighted, as he can call this in as a tip to Homeland Security.
Cut to Team Scylla learning the hard way that someone's called Homeland Security on them. Michael figures Gretchen set them up -- a reasonable assumption -- and within moments, everyone except Lincoln has managed to escape. (And the only reason Lincoln doesn't is because he saw a few agents going after Michael and pulled a LINCOLN SMASH on one. Ah, Linc.) We cut to Michael gaping in horror at this development.
Then we transition back to Team Scylla HQ, which Herb is using as an impromptu interrogation room. He comments that "Killing two agents ought to put you back on death row, Mr. Burrows." Linc insists, "We didn't kill anyone. Self's behind this." Herb thinks not, and derisively comments, "You wouldn't be the first guy to sit in that chair and try to sell me a bill of goods." Linc begins poking holes in that theory: "Then why weren't we halfway to Mexico by the time you worked things out? Because we were in the dark just as much as you were." Herb doggedly insists that he knows what happened. Linc says, "You're not putting this together. Think about how much Scylla's worth. Think of the lengths Self went to to keep this thing off the books, and us? Us, of all people, pulling off the job." Herb only wants to know where the agents' bodies are, and Lincoln hollers, "For five minutes, stop thinking about us and focus on Self. Why would we jeopardize our freedom? It's the only thing we've ever cared about!" (Note: I love that when Dominic Purcell yells, his vowels go Antipodean.) Herb gives him a look like You may be right.
Mahone meets up with Dr. Sara and Michael in a public plaza, and he makes his pitch to call my girl Agent Lang and see if she can find out where Linc is. Michael doesn't reply; he calls Gretchen instead. We flash to Gretchen and Rita sitting at a table, staring at the phone as if it might explode. Don orders her to answer the phone, and after Michael says hello with "I should have put a bullet in your face when I had the chance," Gretchen coolly glares at Self and hands the phone to him. He gets on the phone for some more gloating: "You know, I meant what I said before, Michael. I like your style. You're a smart guy. Unfortunately for you, I'm just a little bit smarter." Oh no, he di'int! Michael snipes, "We'll see about that," which, coming from him, is the equivalent of a Jerry Springer guest screeching like a howler monkey shortly before she pulls out her formerly-best friend's nappy extensions. Don Self smugs, "I'm going to give you some parting advice: Run. Just get your pals and start running." We cut to T-Bag looking openly skeptical about the way Don is handling this. And who can blame him? He has long experience in knowing how long Michael holds a grudge. And Don has just guaranteed his own personal supergenius bete noir through 2055.
We then see that supersmart Don Self is unfamiliar with how hot goods are moved through the underworld: when Gretchen tells him she's got a broker -- aka a conduit -- named Vykin, Don's irritated and confused. Gretchen is equally touchy, and she tartly explains, "We're not exactly moving heroin here; it's a little more specialized. There are five people in the world who know what to do with Scylla, and are willing to pay for it." Don Self decides he and Gretchen are going to go meet with Vykin, and that T-Bag will stay with Rita and Emily. Gretchen tells T-Bag, "You will remain a captive of my negativity if you lay a hand on either one of them." Haaaa! I am growing to like and admire Gretchen as a character. T-Bag's all, "Hey, I warned you not to screw me over," but that doesn't trouble Gretchen nearly so much as Rita standing up and slapping her hard does. Rita huffs, "How could you?" Gretchen must really love Rita, because she doesn't even reflexively threaten to kill her. Instead, she says sincerely, "I'll be back very, very soon. And I promise you, that man is not going to hurt you." Rita only slugs Gretchen again. Since the wires are crossed in Gretchen's brain and torture = love, she fixes Rita with her big baby blues and promises that she'll fix this. As she walks off with Self, he smugs, "Gretchen, you're making friends left and right, huh?" Oh my God, the inevitable bullet to his brain cannot happen soon enough for me.
Back at Team Scylla HQ, the interrogation continues, only along a Good Senator/Bad Agent sort of patter. Dallow shares the news that Don Self wasn't able to delete his files, and "they're giving us a better picture of who he was and what he was up to." Linc leans over to look at Herb and asks, "Honorable, huh?" Herb is like I may have been wrong. Anyway, it turns out that Don Self had set himself up with a whole new ID as Robert Walker, one banking customer of the Cayman Islands, and he was planning on skipping town tomorrow morning. Senator Dallow says, "First of all, we owe you an apology. And second of all, when we get our hands on him, it's going to be paramount to get your help ... your testimony and the testimony of your brother and the others against Self in exchange for full immunity." Linc stubbornly insists they already had a deal. Dallow is like, " ... Eh. Not really. We need your friends to come in so we can get to nailing Self. Sound good?" Linc replies, "What if they don't? We've got a whole bunch of trust issues." That's an understatement. Dallow replies, "Then you'll all rot in a supermax prison. DHS is prepared to fly into the face of this thing, or to bury it. It's your choice, Mr. Burrows."
Cut to Michael back in the no-tell hotel, getting a call from Linc. He asks to be put on speaker, and the remainder of Team Scylla gathers around to hear that DHS knows that Don Self's one smarmy bad apple. Then he adds, "If we testify against Self, we get full immunity." "Immunity from what? We did the job they hired us to do," Dr. Sara asks. The senator rolls his eyes. Linc kicks back to watch the show. And then Dallow introduces himself to Michael, appealing to him with, "We have evidence that supports your claims. I'm giving you my word: your troubles are over now. Please come in so we can end this." We cut to Michael brooding over this offer.
After a quick cut over Los Angeles (yep -- still there!), we come back to Michael announcing to the others, "I've decided -- or rather, I think that we should hear the senator out. And if everything goes south, I do have a backup plan: Sucre, I want you to go with Sara to the meeting place and get a lookout. Alex and I are going to make sure they don't bring any surprises by doubling back to the warehouse, and then following them to the rendezvous." Michael then hands over an address to Sucre, claiming it's where they're meeting Senator Dallow. Mahone leaves, and Sucre leaves, and then it's just our two lovebirds alone in a seedy motel. Perhaps Roland's vision of hot fugitive sex down the southern California coast is about to come to fruition. Or perhaps we're going to get yet another relationship talk. Yep -- that's where we're headed. Dr. Sara is not looking at Michael as she says, "My father spent most of his political life chasing justice. It was sort of an obsession, and my mother and I could never understand why he'd so easily make other people's problems his own. And I think it's why she left him. And Michael, you remind me more and more of him these days, the way you put everyone else's problems before your own." Hold on -- only recently has this penny dropped? It didn't when he got himself thrown into prison for Linc, or when he got himself thrown into prison for her? Anyway, Dr. Sara got Michael's attention with the "You're like my daddy" line, but she continues, "That said, I want you to know that if this meeting with Senator Dallow doesn't go the way you want it to, you don't have to worry about you and I. Nothing's going to come between us." Michael skeptically says, "Yeah. And everything is going to be okay, right?" These two! They make the interactions in a Merchant-Ivory film look like hard-core porn, they're so remote. (Tangent: I've been trying to figure out why the sight of Michael and Dr. Sara together leaves me so cold after how much I enjoyed them in seasons one and two. With all the breast-beating and carrying on Michael did over his dead ladylove last season, you'd think he'd be on her like white on rice now, but instead he's like, "Ho hum, time to brood." I do not get where these two are going.)
Gretchen and Self are waiting for Vykin down by the train tracks, and she unwittingly replicates T-Bag's "Is this what you're thinking?" speech before, only a lot more derisively: "This all ends with a three-story hut in Tahiti, right? A flat-screen TV, a couple of jetskis outside. But what you're going to find, Don, is once the rush is over, once you're done patting yourself on the back and you don't have anyone else to tell the story, you're going to be just as alone as ever. That's who Don Self is." She must have hit a nerve, because Don calls T-Bag and instructs him to take out his gun, aim it at Rita's head, pull back the hammer and scare the hell out of Gretchen. Fortunately, his sadistic little exercise is interrupted by Vykin's call to Gretchen; Vykin wants to meet with Don in 15 minutes. We cut to T-Bag irritably hanging up the phone and putting down the gun. It's amusing that he is not at all keen on doing violence to anyone unless it's his idea.
And now, a scene to establish that Michael is still the inventive guy we all know and love. Dr. Sara and Sucre have been told to rendezvous at a Greyhound bus station, and Mahone comes over to explain, "Michael's safe. We're not going to be able to do this alone. He's doing what he has to do, and we're going to do our part, and right now, it's getting on that bus and getting out of the city. And we've gotta go now. He just wants you both to be safe. And we've got to go, we've really gotta go." Dr. Sara is not down with the ride-out-of-town plan, and she wants to know where Michael is. Mahone only sighs and walks toward the terminal.
We then see Michael heading into Team Scylla HQ. Herb makes introductions, and Michael says shortly, "I'm here to give my testimony, and then I'm leaving. With my brother." Michael sits down, and Herb asks, "All right, gentlemen, tell us what you know." Still standing is U.S. marshal Souter, eying the entire proceedings with queasy suspicion.
Back at the bus depot, Sucre and Dr. Sara are busy debating whether or not they really want to hop a bus and get out of town. Actually, it's not much of a debate, as neither one of them want to. The only real debate is over who loves Michael more. Sucre's all, "I want to do whatever Michael wants me to do!" and Dr. Sara is like, "I want to do whatever I can to make sure Michael has our help when he needs it!"
Back at Team Scylla HQ, Herb and the senator are taking a break and drinking in the dockside scenery in beautiful San Pedro. The senator mutters, "I didn't know Don Self had it in him." Herb gloomily points out that this makes the whole situation really, really gruesome: "We're not talking about our careers anymore. We're talking about real jail time. We get 15 years just for conducting an unauthorized operation without congressional approval. [pause] Or not. This doesn't have to be about containment anymore. It can be about excision." There are but a few letters between "excision" and "execution." The senator thinks for a moment, mulls life in the big house compared to yet another hearing where Detroit's automakers blithely insist that the country should continue to underwrite their massive corporate missteps, then decides that jail just narrowly loses. So he gives the go-ahead to kill Team Scylla.
Back inside HQ, Herb and the senator -- it sounds like a really bad easy-listening band from the 1970s, doesn't it? -- grill Michael and Linc as to where the other members of Team Scylla might be. Michael lays it out: "They're not coming. Linc and I will testify, but the others -- well, we all get immunity. Those are the terms." Herb protests, "We can't have the others running around while we try to wrap this up! Can we call them, can we get them here?" Dallow adds, "The deal was for all of you. Those were the terms." Linc bursts, "Listen, pal, you're going to get what you want." Herb presses, "Are you going to call them or not?"
Michael turns to Dallow and says ruefully, "There never was a deal, was there, senator?" Dallow rolls his chair away from the table, already mentally rehearsing whatever excuses he'll be giving in a press conference. Herb says, "I wish I could give you a better answer, Michael. Don Self left a lot of rough edges. We have to smooth them out." Linc and Mike refuse to give up their friends, but Michael continues to insist that he can get Herb both Self and Scylla. Herb's got his gun out, and as he trains it on Michael, he says, "Scylla? Oh, we're past Scylla. Between getting it back and ending this now, the choice is simple." Then he turns to Souter and says, "You wanted your supermax answer, you got it. [turns to two goons] Escort Mr. Souter out." Herb aims his gun at Michael's head and says, "I'm going to count to five. One, two, three --"
Then shots ring out and Herb goes down! Michael, Linc and the senator all hit the floor, and when no more shots are forthcoming, they cautiously get back up again. Souter enters their conference area, gun drawn, and says, "You've got an appointment with the general." Michael looks at him all, "You've got to be kidding me."
Right outside, Dr. Sara and Sucre are pulling up to Scylla HQ in a taxi. Sucre tells Dr. Sara to wait while he scopes it out. Then we abruptly zip over to Don and Gretchen's meeting with Vykin. There's a little small talk between Gretchen and Vykin -- "You're no longer working for the general?" "Correct" -- and then Don barges in demanding to know if Vykin wants to buy Scylla. Vykin coolly says, "Well, the general has offered a reward for anyone who can return Scylla, along with the heads of the transgressors." Don looks panicky for a moment. Then Vykin slyly smiles and says, "I appreciate you offering me the opportunity to kick the general in the teeth." I sort of like this guy. Is that wrong? I don't want it to be wrong. Don Self then whips out Scylla, and Vykin heads off to check it out.
Inside Scylla HQ, Souter's smack-talking as he holds a gun on everyone, which strikes me as the dumbest move ever. Is sneaking around and silently killing your enemies now considered hopelessly recherché? Anyway, while he's babbling, Sucre has time to pick up a piece, wander into the main area, and surprise the hell out of Souter. Then Linc grabs the surprised Souter's piece and finishes him off. Then he turns it on the freaked-out senator all, "You were going to kill us!" The senator hastily ass-covers with "It was Stanton who made that call! What was extremely complicated 30 seconds ago is not so now. There were six people alive who knew about this operation. Two are still alive: one is on the run, and I'm the other. And I'm not saying a word." Michael snarls, "You're not getting off that easy, senator. You are going to help us." The senator's all, "Everything that's left of Scylla is on the conference table. Have at it! Feel free to destroy the folder so that there's no proof any of this ever happened. Now please do not shoot me in the back as I leave." Well, thanks for nothing, Senator.
And now, Michael has to face the wrath of Dr. Sara, who walks up and tells him, "I will kill you myself the time you do something like that!" About time that woman told him what's what! Michael hugs her, plainly relieved to see her despite having previously resolved himself to be a self-sacrificing weenie. Again. Linc asks where Mahone went; Sucre only replies that he's gone.
When Vykin comes back, he tells Self that "We can do business once you get the rest of Scylla ... it's incomplete." Don Self is horrified to find this out, and shortly after he calls Vykin a clown, Vykin says, enunciating slowly for the meathead's benefit, "There's a piece missing, Slick. Look. Here." Don gapes, aghast. Gretchen silently seethes ... and we flash to Michael double-checking to ensure that the Scylla chip he secreted in the bathroom at the beginning of the episode is still there. Once he retrieves it, his phone rings. "Hello, Don," Michael says. Cut to Don saying, "I believe you have something that belongs to me." Michael snarls, "Come and get it." And we'll find out Monday if Don Self does.