Testimonials

T-Bag is led back into the Sona yard and finds absolute pandemonium. Like, the kind of riot that probably scared all the guards off in the first place, except with more paper than I would have expected. Lechero, bleeding from his bullet to the gut, is being kicked and prodded. Bellick pulls T-Bag aside and warns him to stay away from Lechero, what with everyone in the entire place hating him and everything. Teodoro, out of the goodness of his heart (ha! Get it?), says he can't just leave him there. He shoos everyone away and helps Patron up to his penthouse. It's being looted, but Lechero uses what strength he has left to wave his gun around and chase the thieves off. Bellick and his still-hilarious Tiger Pants are worried that Lechero's going to get them killed, but T-Bag hisses that actually, he's going to get them out of there.

Mahone has found himself a nice fishin' hat, and wanders into an empty bar. He orders a club soda. Wow, taking that sobriety thing all the way, eh Mahone? The barkeep tries to make polite conversation, asking what Mahone did in the States. "I'm kind of in a transitional period right now," he understates hilariously. "Between jobs." The bartender says he's sure something will come along, and Mahone is hoping it's right around the corner. Hmmmm.

The Sona guys really have a thing for prisoner-specific torture methods. Last week it was threatening to fry T-Bag's genitals, which I think we can all agree was a great idea that never really got a fair chance; this week it's burying Sucre alive. You know, cause he's the gravedigger. They take his phone away and when he still refuses to give up Michael, they hand him the shovel and force him to dig.

"Hallo! My name is Michael Scofield. You kill my not-quite girlfriend. Prepare to die."

Back in town at the Plaza de Francia, Gretchen finds Michael, who is smirking the smirkiest smirk that ever smirked. She demands to know where Whistler is and he points him out, sitting at a table with Linc just over his shoulder. "You know, you're the first to ever break out of Sona," she tells him. Yeah yeah, heard it all before, lady. He completely ignores her and just impatiently asks where the hostages are. She makes a call to bring them out. While they're waiting, she keeps at him, telling him she's worked with a lot of smart people, but he's the super extra best. "Maybe you wouldn't have to worry about the Company trying to kill you if you were on their side." She raises an excellent point but Michael is not interested. Behind her he sees LJ and Sofia being herded over by three of Gretchen's henchmen. We also see that Linc's giant bald head is in the crosshairs of a nearby sniper. Ah, snipers. Sigh. I miss Kellerman. Anyway, Linc calmly gets up and leads Whistler away - this isn't the exchange point, this is just confirmation that everyone's okay. She'll get a call in five minutes with her next instructions. Michael enjoys running the show. It looks good on him. He says that when it's over, he and Gretchen will spend some quality time together. She suggests that when it's over he better run for his life.

We're back at the roadblock, where cars are being searched by cops and dogs. Mac Daddy has pulled over and there's this whole scene designed to give us heartburn, but the end result is that the mean old cops are totally rude to Mac Daddy, and when they search the bed of his truck they only find fertilizer. Which presumably covers up the scent of any NBA players he might have hiding under there. He drives off all meekly and T-Mac sort of pops out of a little compartment behind the cab of the truck, and I don't really get where he was hiding or why they didn't look harder if they were so suspicious, but the point is, whew! T-Mac thanks his Papa, who just smiles and says they have one more stop. They head for the Colombian border.

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Posted in Prison Break by Loula at 6:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)
Last Comment: loula on Feb 23, 2008 01:29 PM.