Big pole fall down go boom!
As a couple of wise men once said, blame it on the rain! An inconvenient downpour moves up the time frame for the tunnel diggers. And while you’re at it, blame it on the surprisingly efficient backup generator, and the shady-but-maybe-not fisherman, and Sucre’s poorly chosen alias, and also that crazy woman who likes to torture people. But whatever you do, don’t put the blame on Michael. He’s not taking on any more burdens, dammit! Yeah, we’ll see how that works out for you. Also, LINC SMASH!
3.11 Under & Out. So it’s Michael, Lechero, Mahone, Bellick, T-Bag and Whistler on the team now. They’re bickering about how best to deal with the dirty rocky escape-hindering aftermath of Sammy’s unforeseen demise so they can get out of there in the next 24 hours. And this always annoys me, because these people are all bitchy with Michael for not having this done yet and it’s like, really, Bellick? How many prison escapes have you engineered? Did you have a better plan you just didn’t share with the rest of the class? No reason to break the man’s balls, people. He’s had a rough week. Michael asserts that he knows better than anyone else there how important it is that they make it out of there, and yeah, raise your hand if your brother received a box with your girlfriend’s head in it recently. Anybody? Just Michael then? That’s what I thought.
Sofia and Linc pull up outside Sona. She’s staying in the car today; she has a lot to talk to Whistler about, but not through a fence. Sofia, preaching to the choir, wonders if Linc ever wanted to go back in time to when things made sense. “Every day for the last three years,” he says. This timeframe bothered me initially, but astute reader josef points out that Linc actually was on death row for three years before Michael broke him out. So hooray, Prison Break Continuity Fairy!
Linc visits Michael, who is getting kind of bitchy about how much time Linc’s spending with Sofia, and whether or not that’s wise. Linc glosses over this and asks for a progress report. Michael says they should be through by tomorrow afternoon, but they’ll need a diversion once they get out into no man’s land. Oh, and also T-Bag is coming. Again. And Bellick and Mahone and a the murderous drug lord who runs the place. Ha. Linc just cares about Whistler. Michael can worry about the tunnel, Linc will take care of the guards. They agree to meet tomorrow afternoon.
Downstairs everybody’s rebuilding the braces that crashed down on Sammy. T-Bag is frustrated: “We could work on this railroad all the live-long day, but it don’t matter if Scofield doesn’t know what happens once we get off the train!” Whistler says it’s every man for himself – Michael isn’t responsible for any of them once they’re out. T-Bag tells Whistler that Michael screwed everybody over last time, most of them ending up dead or captured, and Mahone, who knows a little bit about the subject, interrupts to point out that the ones who are easiest to catch are the ones who sit around bitching at each other instead of running. Mahone is so awesome. Michael walks in on the aftermath of this verbal bitchslapping and they start digging. But something is amiss. Water is dripping from the ceiling, and when the engineer says “oh no” you get worried. They run up to Michael’s window to find that it’s been raining, and the weight of the water is making a sinkhole over their tunnel. Michael doesn’t think the ground will hold up till tomorrow, so they’re leaving tonight.
So remember how I love Mahone? Everyone’s freaking out about how a nighttime escape was supposed to be impossible and they’re just going to get themselves killed, so Michael just snaps that whoever wants out of the club can go. Mahone, once again the voice of reason, and who thought I’d ever be typing that sentence, says that Michael needs them for his plan to work, and they need him to get out at all. They might as well trust him.
“How can you say no to this face? I average 22 points per game!”
On his way back to the tunnel, Michael is stopped by poor adorable T-Mac. He knows Michael’s leaving, and after all the favors he did for Michael he thinks it’s kind of shitty for Michael to leave him behind. I’m gonna have to concur with Tracy on this one. Michael gets his tough guy thing going, hissing that he’s doing Tracy a favor, but Tracy is teary-eyed and says he doesn’t belong there, he deserves to leave. Michael warns him that a life in prison is better than a life on the run, and once again I must call bullshit on Michael here, because hasn’t he like, seen this show the past three seasons? Sheesh. Anyway, it’s all sad, and Michael just says it’s for the best. “How do you know what’s best for me?” T-Mac pleads, but Michael doesn’t even turn around, because he’s officially being a dick about this and he might as well commit to it.
Sofia walks in on Linc and Sucre making their super-secret mysterious plans. (Sucre knows where to be, and when. It’s all set, whatever it is.) They confirm that they’re meeting at Playa Blanca; Linc will be on the 312. Okay then. Sucre gets a text from Susan saying she wants to meet again. Linc says to make her think everything’s going as planned, and Sucre’s all, well, they are, aren’t they? Linc just says she will get what she wants – Whistler – unless Michael’s conscience gets in the way. Sucre is alarmed. Linc explains that Michael’s having doubts about whether or not he should let Whistler out, since they’re both pretty sure he’s up to no good. Meanwhile, Michael is stretching his brainbone. Even if they could manage to cut off the power, the backup generator might kick in right away. He calls Linc and tells him they’re going out tonight, which, whew, I thought he might forget to tell him, and how awkward would that be! Anyway, he summarizes their current predicament in a way Linc can understand: “Rain, dirt, tunnel, problem.” Heh. He says he’ll figure out a way to get out, but first he needs to talk to Sucre.
And Sucre is waiting in a bar for Susan/Gretchen, looking uneasy, as you might imagine. She sits next to him and says she reads people for a living. Really? I thought she annoyed people for a living. Anyway, she continues, “And you, my friend? Are a coloring book.” Cause he’s easy to read, get it? Sigh. I miss Kellerman. Anyway, she’s all “I think you left this in my car,” and slides the bomb package across the bar at him. Sucre gulps audibly. She fake smiles and goes over the terms with him again: if anything happens that she’s not expecting, there will be one less pregnant girl in Chicago. See, plenty of people want to kill Maricruz! It’s not just me! Anyway, he says Linc and Michael don’t tell him everything, but she doesn’t buy it. She asks him if they’re planning on turning Whistler over, and when he doesn’t answer convincingly enough, she grabs him by the throat and threatens the life of Sucre Junior, which is enough to make him confess that he did hear that Michael has some concerns about Whistler. He broke out some pretty bad guys last time, Sucre says, and he’s never forgiven himself for it.
She can decapitate people alive with a pocketknife, AND she knows the Vulcan Nerve Pinch? She’s a talented girl, our Gretchen.
At that moment she gets a call from Linc, who tells her it’s going down tonight. He called her right away! He’s being straight with her, see? She finds that refreshing. Also, she pointedly asks Sucre if he knew about this, but he swears he didn’t. She elects to either believe him or not care and sends him on his way.
Sucre tells Linc that Gretchen found the bomb, which, I don’t know why they’re so surprised she would, since she’s all ninja secret agenty and whatnot. Anyway, Sucre says he doesn’t know how she found it but he’ll make it up to Linc. Well as a matter of fact, Michael needs a favor at Sona! It’s stopped raining but Michael tells Whistler the damage is already done. They have one of their intense staredowns, wherein Michael once again makes it clear that he thinks Whistler is full of shit. Whistler asks if he’d be breaking out if it weren’t for LJ. Michael says no, he wouldn’t. “That’s the difference between you and me. I’m willing to pay for my sins.” “And I’m not?” Whistler asks rhetorically. “That’s a good question,” Michael responds.
T-Bag is trying to convince Lechero that Michael is up to something. I mean, he’s got them down there doing slave labor! Get it, cause Lechero’s black and everything so maybe that will make him unreasonably sensitive? It’s a cheap shot, and Lechero sees through it. He’s doing this for himself. T-Bag offers to team up with Lechero once they’re out, but if Lechero needs a hand he’ll ask someone with a spare. Heh. Stumpy maintains that Michael is planning something. “Who among us isn’t?” snarls Lechero. They both hear some rumbling, and we can see that the sinkhole in no man’s land is bubbling, and also, a jeep is headed straight for it. Ruh-roh. They listen to it roll across the top of the tunnel, but it stops just short of the hole and gets stuck in the mud, spinning its wheels. The guards get it free by pushing it. Away from the hole. Phew.
In town, Sofia is minding her own bidness, getting money from the ATM, when some black-gloved thug sneaks up behind her and drags her away. Immediately Linc gets a call from Susan, who’d like to have a chat in person, make sure they’re all on the same page. See above re: Ruh-roh.
Sucre arrives at Sona and calls Michael, who asks how much he knows about electricity. Down in the dig-hole, Bellick is attempting to bond with Mahone while they make a fake-dirt top to plug up the hole they will be leaving behind, at least long enough for them to get a head start. Bellick thinks they should team up, like Butch and Sundance. “Butch and Sundance died.” Mahone responds. Heh. He is so, so much nicer to poor pathetic Bellick than he deserves. He doesn’t say “hell no you can’t tag along with me you pathetic sack of shit!” He just says “let’s let Michael get us out of here first, and we’ll worry about everything else later.” He actually kind of humors him. Aww. Michael directs Sucre to the generator over the phone. Sucre reads Michael the model number and manufacturer, and also the 1 800 customer service number. Cool. Michael says that’s all he needs, but Sucre wonders what he’s going to do about the Jeeps? Michael says they’ll just take their chances, but Sucre looks over at where they’re lined up for maintenance and says maybe they won’t have to.
Linc meets up with Susan at one of the many, many giant scary abandoned warehouses that populate the Prison Break universe. She’s relaxing at a table with Sofia and a couple of Fantasâ„¢. Oh, and also some armed guards. She thinks it’s time they all sat down and talked about the plan, but this time they should include all the players.
Michael, while Whistler listens, has a truly amusing conversation with the customer service rep at the generator company. He’s talking shop and chuckling good-naturedly and everything, and Whistler notes that he’s a pretty good liar. Michael just glares at him as he is put on hold, and eventually someone tells him how long it takes the generator to kick in once the main power is off. We don’t hear the answer but it seems to satisfy Michael, who immediately gets another phone call. It’s Linc: Susan wants to speak with Whistler. When he asks what it’s about, she smashes the business end of a cigar against the back of Sofia’s neck. Whistler hears her scream and freaks out.
“Noooo! Not my flawless creamy cafÃ©-au-lait skin! Also, smoking gives you wrinkles.”
Retchin wants to know if he’s come up with those coordinates yet, and when he says he hasn’t, she once again dares to blemish Sofia’s taut, caramel-colored neck. He swears he’ll get them once everyone’s out, but Retchin says his promises don’t mean anything anymore, and she’s tired of waiting around for these guys to screw her over. She’s going to need those coordinates by the end of the day. Whistler freaks out some more, whimpering that he’s got to figure this out. Michael doesn’t say much, but is probably thinking “So her head is still attached to her body then? Well you’re doing better than I am, fisher boy.” Ultimately Michael says Whistler can’t just hand them over, because once they have what they want they have no incentive to keep LJ and Sofia alive. They’ll figure something out, Michael says, trying to be reassuring. T-Bag eavesdrops.
So hey, remember when Mahone was being all nice to Bellick? Yeah, that’s not really how it’s working with T-Bag. He’s telling Mahone that he thinks Whistler might be the reason they wanted Michael down here in the first place, and says that they have more in common than Mahone may think. They’ve both lost a great love, they’ve both killed, and they’re both there because of Michael. “Wouldn’t it be poetic justice to return the favor?” Mahone responds that if there were an ounce of justice left in this world, T-Bag would be lying face-down in the same unmarked grave as the rest of his inbred family. Oooh! Oooh! No he di-ent! T-Bag retorts that the only difference between the two of them is a badge, and Mahone doesn’t even have one of those anymore. Mahone better be careful, because with those blinders on, it’s hard to watch your back.
Linc soothes Sofia’s cigar burns, and no, that’s not a euphemism for anything naughty, although Retchin does toss in a snide remark or two about their budding friendship. Linc wonders if burning people with cigars is maybe the act of a desperate woman, but she says if he really knew what was going on, he’d know that she’s with the good guys. You know, you keep saying that, and then you keep dismembering innocent bystanders, so maybe you can understand where we’re confused. Hasn’t Linc ever done the wrong things for the right reasons? “What are the right reasons, Susan?” Linc snaps. She then goes into an elaborate monologue explaining the good intentions of the company and why they ruined everyone’s lives, starting with season one. Oh, she does not. Linc asks her why Whistler’s so damn important in the first place, and she grins, “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” She’s probably not being idiomatic here. Linc just says “you’re gonna do that anyway.” She says if Whistler comes through she might not have to.
Michael walks in on Whistler, thumbing pensively through his bird book. Linc called, he tells him. They’re on their way. Whistler is all hollow-eyed and terrified. He figured the coordinates out and he’s going to hand them over. He wanted Michael to know in case he needed to take any precautions. “What if you give them the wrong ones?” Michael wonders. “Might buy Linc some time to get Sofia to safety.” “Like he did with Sara?” Youch! Not cool, man! He’s not being nasty, though, and Michael sort of concedes the point. Whistler doesn’t know what else to do – he can’t win. Michael says it’s not about winning anymore, it’s about surviving, not giving up. But Whistler is determined to go out gracefully, protecting the one he loves. “Honor is a luxury men like us can’t afford,” Michael says, but Whistler is determined. He says nothing, just walks away.
Sucre, still lurking out by the generator, watches a guard working on one of the Jeeps. He calls and has the guy paged over the loudspeaker, the better to sneak up and cut a couple of important holes in presumably important hoses. I guess knowing how to hotwire cars would kind of ipso facto make you good at shutting them down, so hooray for Sucre’s thievery! On his way out of the prison he’s stopped by one of the more familiar guards, and yeah, I should probably know these guys’ names by now, but anyway, he wants to speak to “Jorge the Gravedigger” right now, and gently reminds him that he’s got guns strapped to him so Sucre might want to do what he says.
“Sorry, mate, but we should at least try for a season average of .500 heads per girlfriend.”
Next on the loudspeaker is Whistler, who has a visitor at the fence. Michael watches him march off to what they both think is certain doom. Michael calls Linc to warn him that Whistler is about to crack, but Linc says “relax. I’ll see you in a minute.” Sure enough, the loudspeaker announces that Michael too has a visitor. He trudges out behind Whistler to find Sofia, Retchin, and Linc on the other side of the fence. Well isn’t this awkward! Gretchen brightly says no introductions are necessary, and they’re here to say goodbye. Whistler promises Sofia they won’t hurt her, which seems a little presumptive at this point. He says he knew they weren’t good people when he took the job, he just didn’t know how bad they really were. This is all his fault. No one leaps to disagree. Gretchen/Susan snaps at him for the coordinates, and he shakily grabs a piece of paper from his pocket and tears it neatly in half. He gives Gretchen one half and says they know he’s got what they want now, and they’ll get the rest of it when he knows that Sofia, LJ, and the brothers are safe. Whoa. That’s pretty damn honorable there, mysterious fisherman I still don’t entirely trust. Retchin is impressed that Mr. Fisherman grew himself a set of oysters. She sets a timer to 24 hours and hands it through the fence. If she doesn’t have the other half by the time it runs out, LJ and the seÃ±orita both get it. She drags Sofia off, alone, and the three men are left standing around staring at each other. “I’ve helped you,” Whistler pleads tearfully. “Now you help me.”
Michael and Linc turn to business. Michael knows how long they have before the emergency power kicks in, but he needs Linc to cut the main power since it’s outside the walls. Around 5:15am should give them enough time to finish the tunnel before daybreak. Linc is all “so hey, Whistler kind of manned up, right?” But Michael isn’t ready to kiss and make up just yet. He’s just tired and wants this to be over tonight. I’m sure it will be! The rest of the season will just be the wacky misadventures they endure running the family bait shop!
Michael finds T-Mac sitting sullenly in the yard. “When you’re on the run, you’re always looking over your shoulder,” he tells him. T-Mac would have to change everything about himself, forget everything he used to be, and it’s the people he loves that will pay. T-Mac considers this, but raises the very good point that um, maybe that’s better than a lifetime of Taco Hell. Michael just says T-Mac has to decide – he can’t be responsible for him. Being responsible for people hasn’t worked out so well for Michael lately. He tells T-Mac that his dad should call Linc if he wants to find out where to pick him up tomorrow. Aw, Papa McGrady will be so happy.
Back at the Underground Railroad, the boys tell Michael they think they’re ready. Bellick is panicky and T-Bag says “she’s wet, but she’s ready – reminds me of the first thing I’m gonna do when I get out, heh heh!” thus reminding us all why we should be absolutely horrified at the very idea of him walking the earth a free man. Michael says they leave as soon as Linc cuts the power, oh, and by the way they have 30 seconds until the backup generator kicks in. If T-Mac were here, he’d be all “ptthbt, that’s an entire shot clock plus six extra seconds!” but everyone else seems to think that’s cutting it a bit close. Michael says he’s gone as soon as the lights go out. Everybody else can keep up or get caught.
Michael is also under the impression that the Jeep situation is taken care of, but Sucre has been called into the principal’s office and watches helplessly as they drive away. He also watches helplessly as he is told that “Jorge Rivera” can’t get paid today, on account of his background check revealed there’s a warrant out for his arrest. D’oh! Way to pick an alias there, ese.
Michael fetches Whistler and T-Mac, while Linc loiters creepily around a bus stop conveniently located in the middle of goddamn nowhere. The bus pulls up and Linc calmly hijacks it, waving his knife around and driving off once everybody’s out.
Ohhh, the wheels on the bus go round and round, and smash into a pole!
Meanwhile, everyone’s ready to go, including T-Mac, whose inclusion T-Bag and Lechero object to. They both pull out pointy objects, and T-Bag explains that with the time frame so short, they would really like to go first, and if they don’t, they kill Whistler. T-Bag is such the shit-stirrer. Michael relents, and across the compound Fernando Sucre/Jorge Rivera is pleading that he can clear up this misunderstanding, but he’s told in no uncertain terms that he’s not going anywhere. He gets a brief moment of satisfaction when he hears the Jeep he sabotaged sputter to a stop right outside the window.
Lechero climbs up first, then T-Bag, then Bellick. Mahone elects not to turn his back to anyone. Meanwhile, Bus Driver Linc speeds up, opens the door, jumps out, and smashes the bus right into the power lines. Badass. LINC SMASH! The lights at Sona flicker out, and Michael says “30 seconds. Go.” Aaaand that’s it. Of course.
So do we trust Whistler now or not? Surely he could have some selfish motivation for performing what looks like a selfless act, right? And hey, Sofia’s probably hanging out with LJ right about now, so maybe we had our money on the wrong Lincoln Burrows for her to hook up with! He’s probably closer to her age, anyway. So I guess we reconvene next week to see what befalls the luckiest brothers in the world. 30 seconds! Go!