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Whistler apologizes to Michael for his earlier outburst, and fakes concern for LJ. T-Bag walks up: "Knocka knocka!" Heh. Robert Knepper is really rockin this Iago-as-played-by-Blance-DuBois version of T-Bag, incidentally. I'm glad they keep finding excuses to keep him around, because this really is a completely unique character and he does a great job. Teodoro has a super-secret envelope for Michael from Lechero and wonders what he's got cookin up with him - is this an invitation to the Sona Hawkins Dance or what? Ha! Michael tells him it's none of his business, but T-Bag reminds Michael that he can treat him like a pesky insect if he wants, but "information, like crumbs, always trickles down to the vermin on the floor." Michael opens the envelope to find a cryptic drawing with "4:00" and "4413" at the top. It's no origami swan, but still. Michael recognizes it as a sketch of Lechero's quarters and heads off to investigate, as Whistler unwraps his purchase from earlier, which, yes, is a bigass knife.

Sofia, meanwhile, is being let in to the bare but rather nice secret apartment he's been keeping. The landlord tries to comfort her - just because he kept some secrets doesn't mean he didn't love her. Sofia's all, yeah, nobody asked you, Panama Jackass. He runs off to get some insurance papers and she starts looking around, but finds mostly bags of shredded documents. I'm sure it's nothing! He just wanted to make some confetti for your birthday party, Sofia! She rifles through a few more drawers and finally finds an envelope with a passport and social security card.

"Is that a knife in your back pocket or are you just...oh, it is a knife."

Whistler, his bigass knife tucked safely in his waistband, follows Michael to Lechero's. According to the sketch, there's another door in here, and yup, there it is behind that tapestry. It's locked, but Michael has the code, 4413. The door leads them down a staircase to a storage room of some kind with yet another door at the end. 4413 doesn't work on this one though, and while Michael tries to figure it out, Whistler goes for the knife. For a second it looks like Lechero didn't send the message at all and it's a setup. "I'm truly sorry you got caught up in all my troubles, Michael," he says ominously, but before he can get all stabby, Lechero shows up.

Lechero opens the second door with a code only he knows, and Michael questions the wisdom of using T-Bag as a go-between if he's trying to keep secrets. Lechero says by the time he figures it out they'll be long gone. He leads them into an underground tunnel. The old administration used it to go between cellblocks A and B, but after the riots, they put everyone in B and blew up the tunnel. Sure enough, there's a giant pile of rubble, and Michael's like, yeah, we can dig through this. If we have a couple of payloaders. They can't tunnel out, that's for sure, but they might be able to tunnel up. Cool. Whistler looks at his watch.

And back in the city, Sofia is looking at his passport. It's Whistler's picture alright, but the name on it is Gary Miller. Yeah, that's way less cool than "James Whistler." Also, Gary Miller was born in Dallas, so hey, shoutout! (I've mentioned before that they shoot the prison yard scenes there.) And his birthday's coming up next week. Anyway, Sofia's jaw barely has time to drop before Retchin shows up all "I'll take that, thanks." She introduces herself as an "old friend" of James, and what follows is the least sexy sexual tension scene that's ever been filmed between two incredibly hot women. I don't know what went so terribly wrong here, but it just doesn't work. Sofia tries to leave but Retchin pins her to the wall. She can see why he loves her; she really is beautiful. She essentially tells Sofia that she should really probably just forget anything she saw in there or terrible things will happen, in a "I'm being tender and hot but also it's very clear I'm not here to make out" kind of way. Sofia leaves the crazy lady alone in the apartment to start gathering whatever's left of Whistler's Big Secret Identity.

Inexplicably, lesbian overtones have never been less sexy. Rosie O'Donnell's blog poetry notwithstanding.

Michael evaluates the tunnel/debris situation. He notes that the soil is sandy so they'd need some kind of support brace if they were to dig upwards and not be buried alive in the process.

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Posted in Prison Break by Loula at 11:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)
Last Comment: blahblah on Nov 17, 2007 09:02 PM.