Lincoln drives, Michael’s shotgun again as they navigate Geary’s car down a well-paved, but empty highway. The radio tells them that the Fox River Eight are now Seven; John Abruzzi was gunned down outside of Washington, D.C. motel last night after officers received a tip from an informant. “I didn’t think Abruzzi would be the first to eat it,” says Linc. Michael says he has a feeling they’re in for a lot of surprises. “Seven escapees,” says Lincoln, “so much for faking our deaths.” Michael replies, “I bought us some time, that’s what counts.” Lincoln’s look says he isn’t so sure. There’s definitely tension between the brothers. “How much further?” asks Michael. Lincoln estimates another seventy, maybe eighty miles. Michael says that’s good, they should hit the Double K by the afternoon. Lincoln counters, “Or we can pick up LJ, and hit Panama.” Michael’s losing it, “We can’t hit Panama, we can’t hit anything, we can’t do anything without the money. We need to find Charles’ stash.” Lincoln knows the score, “I know some other guys who are thinking the same thing.” Michael knows it too, flashes back to Westmoreland’s dying breath, “The money is buried under a silo, at the Double K Ranch, just outside of Tooele, Utah.” Michael’s memory includes Tweener, C-Note and T-Bag hearing Westmoreland as well. Back in the present, Michael looks even more worried.
C-Note’s on a train, chats with the woman next to him about her kids. She shows him pictures; he tells her he has a daughter too.
Tweener’s just shared a very memorable tequila-fueled night in the sack with Debra Jean. She tells him she doesn’t want to go home, she wants to keep driving. Tweener’s more realistic, “I don’t think your Pops would be down for that.” In the afterglow of sex, she’s dreaming of a future with Tweener, “Wouldn’t it be fun? We could go to Hawaii.” Tweener laughs at the suggestion, “You can’t drive to Hawaii.” Debra Jean laughs, she knows, she’s just saying…KNOCK, KNOCK. Tweener looks nervous, urges her not to get the door. Debra Jean says she just wants to know who it is, angles for the door, and looks out the window, “It’s a cop.” Tweener’s thrown rudely back into reality; tries to stop her. She opens the door anyway. The cop at the door holds up a photo, “Have you seen this person?” The guy in the photo has hair, but it’s definitely Tweener. Tweener, now in the bathroom, stares at Debra Jean – what’s she gonna do? By the look on Debra Jean’s face, she doesn’t know either. She asks the cop why they’re looking for him; cop says a couple of people said they’ve seen him in the vicinity. “He escaped from an Illinois prison a couple of days ago, have you seen him?” Debra Jean looks at the cop with post-sex eyes, “No. He doesn’t look familiar.” The cop doesn’t seem convinced, “Are you sure?” Yep, Debra Jean is sure. She closes the door, turns to Tweener, “Whoa, whoa – all I did was steal a baseball card, I’m not like those other fools.” Debra Jean has her hand on the doorknob, “I’m going to go for a walk, okay? I’m gonna leave my keys right here,” she indicates the table, “and when I get back, my car will be gone. I’m sure in a few hours they’ll find it somewhere, abandoned.” Tweener wishes it could be different, Debra Jean does too, but it isn’t. Debra Jean gone, Tweener grabs the keys and goes.
Michael and Lincoln pull into Tooele, Utah. It’s a small town, but Michael notes, “That’s good. All we need to do is get that money and we’ll be out of here by nightfall.” Eye on the prize, they drive past a man on foot with a bag and a bad arm. The man takes a local newspaper from a vending kiosk and walks away. Definitely T-Bag.
Command Center – Mahone enters, Lang tells him, “Soil test came back from Scofield’s crash, he really went out of his way this time.” Mahone’s not interested in that, “What else do you have.” She’s got a lot, “A man in Nebraska was assaulted by a hitchhiker matching Bagwell’s description heading west on I-80. Omaha’s putting together a photo line-up.” Mahone’s only interested in Scofield, “What do you have on Scofield? What does anyone have on Scofield?” The room is quiet for a moment, then Pertz, a computer geek, speaks up, “I’ve got some results on his hard drive, the one recovered from the river. We were able to use the sector editor to restore the master boot -” Mahone doesn’t give a rat’s ass how they did it, wants results. “We’ve got more than half the contents, about sixty percent,” Pertz says, loads a bunch of files including an article about D.B. Cooper, “Looks pretty random,” he says. Mahone doesn’t care, “Print it up, all of it. I want it on my desk.”
Michael’s tracing his finger down the K listings in the Tooele phone book, no listing for a Double K Ranch. Lincoln stops an older gent on the street, “Excuse me, you know where I might find a Double K Ranch?” Old guy says he’s never heard of it. Lincoln asks if he’s from around there, guy says “Yeah, born and raised, there’s no Double K nothin’.” Lincoln thanks him, turns to Michael, “Looks like Westmoreland spent his last moments blowing smoke up your ass.” Michael says there’s only one way to find out, “The county keeps property records, every piece of land plotted out. If the tax assessor keeps records, it’s gonna be in there,” he points to a building across the way, “The Municipal building.”
Tweener’s high-tailing it down the highway in Debra Jean’s car, as we hear a phone ring, a voice answers, “Dispatch.” Debra Jean tells the officer, “Someone stole my car this morning. I’m at the Lotus Motel off Interstate 80.” The dispatcher asks if she saw who stole it, and Debra Jean says no, she went out for a walk and when she came back, it was gone. The dispatcher says “This morning? Why didn’t you call before?’ Debra Jean starts to come up with an excuse, then thinks better of it, “I don’t know,” she says. Tweener knows he has to ditch Debra Jean’s car, feels rotten about everything that just transpired. He pulls the car over to the side of the road, gets out and wipes the car clean of prints. Before he walks away, he uses his jacket to write a message to Debra Jean in the dust on the car window. It says Ã¢â‚¬ËœAloha.’
Kellerman’s in his “Lance-mobile” the economy car he uses to perpetrate his addict ruse. A man in a dark suit and sunglasses pulls up next to him, “Mr. Kellerman.” “Mr. Kim,” Kellerman says, all attitude, “I’m surprised to see you in Chicago.” Kim is looking for updates; Kellerman says he’s on it. Kim questions that hanging out with Sara is the best use of Kellerman’s time. Kellerman says “It is. She’s in contact with Scofield, I was there when he called yesterday. We stay with her she takes us right to him, he takes us to Burrows.” Kim’s a bit passive aggressive, “Alright, if you’re that sure, I’ll let the President know.” Kellerman doesn’t like this answer, “I contact the President directly,” he says. Kim smiles a bit condescendingly, “I’ll contact her. Keep me posted.”
In her apartment, Sara goes through the mail. She sees a letter addressed to her in Michael’s handwriting. She rips it open. Inside is a blue Origami swan. She opens the folds of the swan, inside is a phone number. She’s not sure what to do with the swan, then opens the AA Big Book, and slips it inside.
Back at the church, Sara’s in an AA meeting with the group leader saying, “You want to restore dignity you need to take action. Making amends requires much more than saying you’re sorry, it means learning to change.” While he talks, Sara turns the origami swan over and over in her hands. The leader continues, “An apology is just the first step. The most important thing is that you display honesty, courage and compassion when you extend your apologies. You need to earn your forgiveness. We’ll talk about it more on Friday.” The group claps. Sara mulls this over as she puts the swan between her hands, claps too. Kellerman’s conveniently seated next to Sara. As the group clears out, he makes his move, “I’ve got a great idea. Since you were such a fan of lame store-bought pie, I’m going to bake you a real pie of your choice. Tonight.” Sara’s grateful, but tells Kellerman she doesn’t need to be seeing anyone right now but her therapist. Kellerman approaches from a different angle, “I’ve been a hermit lately too. My partner, Daniel, has been away on business and I’ve been sitting around every night by myself. Kinda pathetic.” Sara’s embarrassed, she didn’t know he was gay; thought he was trying to hit on her. Kellerman puts her at ease and they have a good laugh over her faux pas. He says they can eat pie and watch Fried Green Tomatoes. Sara, still embarrassed by her ego says she gets it. Kellerman says he’s the best ex-junkie cook in this town. Sara says she has to clean her apartment, it’s disgusting, and she knows it sounds like an excuse but it’s not. Kellerman’s good, tells her “I get it. You do what you gotta do,” and starts to walk away. Sara thinks it over for a moment – what the hell, calls out, “Do you deliver?”
Mahone pours over the files retrieved from Michael’s computer – particularly the article about D.B. Cooper. Mahone looks like he might be losing it when Pertz, the computer geek, enters with the next batch of retrieved files. He drops them on Mahone’s desk. Mahone stands, starts pushing pins in the map, feels for his prize pill pen and opens it – it’s empty. Pertz returns with more info – Mahone, all freaked out by his lack of pills – tells him to leave the files on his desk. Pertz asks if any of the stuff means anything, Mahone replies, “I don’t know, ask me later.” Pertz doesn’t get that Mahone wants to be alone, tries to engage in conversation, “You think he’s a genius or a whack job?” he asks. Mahone’s starting to sweat, wants to get rid of the geek, “I think we answered that question when we assigned a hundred agents to the case. So why don’t you go and get me the rest of that stuff, does that work for you?” Pertz, soundly put in his place, does as instructed..
T-Bag steals a bag of Cheetos from a delivery truck, tries to open them – it’s hard without two functioning hands. He uses his teeth to tear the top off, pours them into his mouth. As he chews the junk food, he notices a guy walking toward him, head down, trying to be inconspicuous. It’s Tweener. T-Bag smiles, swiftly moves to Tweener, puts his arm around Tweener’s neck, “Well lackaday, I just found me an inbetweener.” He pushes Tweener up against the wall, “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?” he asks. Tweener is not as happy to see T-Bag as T-Bag is to see him. Tweener tries to cover, but T-Bag knows where Tweemer’s off to, “Same as any other man that was in that room that night. They all comin’ around pretty soon for a big family reunion at the Ku Klux Ranch. If they ain’t here already.” Tweener says nobody here has ever heard of the Double K Ranch, says Westmoreland was high. T-Bag says “Sound like you’s been misinformed. Indeedy there is a Double K. It’s just a matter of who finds it first.” Tweener’s not having any of it, tries to leave – T-Bag’s on him in a shot, grabs him around the neck. He tells Tweener he needs his help. Tweener says he ain’t T-Bag’s ditch digger, moreover he doesn’t need nothing from T-Bag – wrestles himself away from T-Bag’s grasp and walks away. T-Bag calls “You might…if a man new where he was supposed to be looking.” Tweener hates T-Bag, yet T-Bag just might be right.
One-hundred miles outside Las Vegas – we’re on a deserted stretch of highway until a motorcycle appears at the top of the hill. Sucre drives until he gets to a public phone near a water tower, makes calls to all the chapels in Vegas, wants to know if there’s a Hector Avila and Maricruz Delgado tying the knot there today. A couple of phone calls and he’s got the location, “When?” he asks.
Michael and Lincoln make their way to the tax assessor’s office, right past a couple of cops. Michael tells Lincoln to stay cool, they’ll be out in ten minutes. Lincoln makes it through security and the metal detectors, but Michael sets off the alarm. Security stops him, asks if he’s wearing a watch, Michael says yes, removes it – his tattoo peeking out from underneath his suit coat. Next pass he gets the all clear.
In the Tax Assessor’s office, a stack of heavy books hit the table in front of Michael. He tells Linc, “This is exactly what we need; a map of each parcel of land, the buildings, the topography, everything.” His finger finds what he believes they’re looking for, “Karl Kokosing, Double K. A clerk watches them with interest, Lincoln doesn’t like the way he’s looking at them. Michael glances back and the clerk moves away. Michael searches, flipping page after page looking for the map. From his new perch, the clerk is still eyeing them with interest, and Lincoln tells Michael they have to roll. Michael says he’s almost got it. Lincoln is adamant that they leave now, wants to know if Michael found the map. But what Michael’s found is not a map; it’s the ragged inner-edge of a torn out page. Someone has been there before them and ripped out the map.
Michael and Lincoln get to the top of the stairs overlooking the street, Michael’s mind going a mile a minute, “Someone got here before us. There’s no other explanation.” Lincoln looks down into the street, sees T-Bag angling through the crowd, “Son of a bitch is still alive.” The brothers climb down the stairs, and as discretely as possible, chase after T-Bag. Michael calls out, “Hey, Pretty!” as Lincoln comes up behind T-Bag, throws his arm around his neck and Ã¢â‚¬Ëœescorts’ him into an alley, “How the hell are you still breathing?” Linc asks as he throws T-Bag onto a beat up old car. “What the hell did you do to your own hand?” asks Michael. Lincoln takes the cue, grabs T-Bag around the wrist, hard. T-Bag’s in major pain, “Take it easy,” he squeaks out, “I recently had some work done.” Lincoln’s not playing any games, “Where’s the map?” he says as he inflicts major pain on T-Bag. “Easy, easy,” says T-Bag, “I don’t have it.” Michael wants to know where it is. Lincoln frisks T-Bag as Michael calmly tells T-Bag that they saw him at the Tax Assessor’s office, but T-Bag insists the map was gone when he got there. Lincoln is still roughing T-Bag up who turns to Michael for help, “Why don’t you keep your pooch away from me and I’ll tell you everything I know.” Michael indicates Linc should let up then T-Bag gives them the bad news, “It’s the kid. He has it. I saw him this morning. I needed help, so we made a deal. He said he would dig – I told him where we could find a map -” Lincoln throws T-Bag on the car again, gets up in his grill, “What kid?”
Governor Tancredi sits in a conference room with Bruce Bennett, his trusted confidant. He tells the Governor that the best thing to do is nothing. “That’s how I’m going to get the Senate to confirm me as Vice President?” says Tancredi, “Do nothing?” A flunky Aide smirks, full of himself, “Shows them you can do the job.” Just then, Tancredi’s mobile rings, he checks the read out, “It’s my daughter.” Bruce and the Aide exchange a glance, the Aide speaks up “Sir, we need to talk about your daughter.” The phone keeps ringing as Tancredi asks, “What about her?” The Aide tells him, “The media is all over the Fox River situation. We all think it would be best if you could distance yourself from her, just for the time being -” This really ticks of the Governor, he interrupts the Aide, “I paid her bail and I walked away. I have distanced myself.” The Governor needs a minute, and takes it – but doesn’t answer the phone.
Sara’s in her apartment on the phone leaving a message, “Hi Dad, it’s me. When you get a chance, I really need to talk to you about something, um, actually about a lot of things. The most important one is that, um, I owe you an apology. I realize that I’ve made things difficult for you lately -” Just then, the doorbell rings, “And I want to take responsibility for that. Um…call me back. Bye.” She hangs up the phone, walks to the door and answers it. It’s Kellerman’s with shopping bags full of food. Sara lets him in. He tells her he knows he’s early, but he brought dinner, “You’re not a vegetarian are you?’ he asks. Sara says no, invites the wolf in.
C-Note jumps from the train.
Sucre runs into the Vegas chapel determined to stop Maricruz’s wedding to Hector. He rushes to the dressing room where he finds Maricruz’s sister, Theresa. Theresa tells Sucre he can’t be there. He knows but, “Tell me right now, where’s Maricruz, I need to see her.” Theresa says Maricruz is getting her picture taken with their mom and dad, the wedding’s at two-thirty. Sucre says, “I need to see her now. She’s the mother of my kid, Theresa. I love her and she loves me. You don’t want her to marry Hector, do you? Do you?” It doesn’t look like Theresa does, “I’ll see if I can get her. Wait here.”
Mahone’s losing it – he’s sweating profusely, sticking pins in the big board with pictures of the now Seven Escapees, reading articles from Michael’s computer, writing things on the map. He’s about ready to give up when his phone rings, he answers, “I’ll be right down,” he says. Next thing, Mahone’s in the street, approaching a dubious looking guy, B. Fanatic, who greets him with an oily, “Mr. Mahone.” Mahone’s not about pleasantries right now, asks, “Where are they?” Fanatic says, “I had a hard time getting my hands on them. It’d be easier to go to a doctor – tell him you need something calm you nerves.” Mahone says, “Doctors take notes, write prescriptions. I prefer to limit the paper trail. That’s why I made a deal with you.” Fanatic says he thought maybe their deal was over, Mahone doesn’t ask about Shales no more. Mahone uncaps the bottle of pills Fanatic gave him, swallows a few, “That part of our deal is over; I no longer need an informant on the case.” Fanatic says, “I thought that’s all you cared about; finding him.” Mahone feels the pills immediately, feels a sense of relief, “You can’t get’em all.” Fanatic says he can keep and ear out, if Mahone wants. Mahone’s a wild man, “Midazolam,” he says, “Fifteen hundred milligrams, every thirty days. That’s all I want from you. We understand each other?” and he walks away. Fanatic calls out after him, “You gonna pay me, for it?” Mahone returns – strong – pushes a bunch of bills up against Fanatic’s chest, “Right there,” and he walks away.
Michael and Lincoln drive T-Bag to a rural location filled with corn fields. Lincoln opens the door, tells T-Bag to get out. They ask where Tweener was headed, T-Bag says “Main drag, he was supposed to find a shovel.” Michael gives Lincoln the car keys, he unlocks the trunk, tells T-Bag to get in. T-Bag doesn’t cotton to the idea, but gets in the trunk, “You’re coming back, right?’ he asks.
In town, Tweener enters Woody’s Garden Center, Woody’s mid-story with a customer, “I was hauling ass – right on her tail. I pull out my gun and blam! The bitch treed herself and I brought her down in one shot.” Woody notices Tweener keeps one eye on him as the finishes up his conversation with the customer. Woody says his goodbyes to the other customer, walks over to Tweener who’s found what he’s looking for – a shovel. Woody’s all friendly-like tinged with a dose of suspicion, “Hey now, what you diggin’?” he asks. Tweener says some stuff in his Grandpa’s backyard. Woody says he’s got a bigger shovel in the back if Tweener wants. Tweener says this one will do fine. Woody says he’s never seen Tweener, before, what’s his Granddaddy’s name? Tweener says, “Grandpa, okay? Can you just ring it up?” But Woody’s been following the news, knows Tweener’s a Fox River dude. Tweener tells Woody he’s got it all wrong, but Woody doesn’t think so, pulls a baseball bat from underneath the counter, label’s Tweener in the head over and over again. Tweener succumbs to the bat; Woody drags him into the back and hog ties him just as Michael enters. Woody hears the bell, calls out, “We’re closed.” Michael eyes the scene: the bat on the floor, a baseball cap laying next to it – Tweener’s in over his head, and Michael knows it. Woody enters from the back room, “Sorry, closing early,” just as Michael’s face registers with him, “I know you. You stay right there.” But Michael has no intention of staying there or anywhere in these United States; nails Woody with a right cross to the face. Unfortunately Michael’s more brains than brawn, and Woody’s a plucky redneck – he gets Michael on the floor in a chokehold. Brute force enters in the form of big brother, Linc. He kicks Woody off of Michael, points his gun in Woody’s face – “Where’s the kid?” Woody makes a valiant attempt to gather his wits but Lincoln’s patience is tissue thin – “Where is the kid?” Michael goes into the back room, Lincoln motions for Woody to follow, “Come on tough guy.”
Geary’s car is parked on the side of the road in a very rural area. In the trunk, T-Bags tries to break out unsuccessfully.
Sucre pacing in the dressing room at the chapel hears a knock, expects to see Maricruz. Instead Hector is there in his wedding tux. Sucre grabs Hector by the lapels, “Where’s Maricruz?” Hector’s got nerves of steel, tells Sucre to calm down, “She’s on her way down now,” he says. He tells Sucre that because they’re family he’s going to let Maricruz make her own decision. Sucre says he’s not leaving without her. Hector says that’s for Maricruz to decide. Sucre says Hector’s been filling her head with crap, and Hector says “She’s a smart girl. I personally don’t think she’s gonna want to live her life on the run, but we’ll see.” Sucre says Maricruz doesn’t love Hector, she loves him and she’s having Sucre’s son. Hector doesn’t want to get into that right now – and Sucre finds out why; there are police sirens heading in their direction. Sucre slugs Hector, runs off to find Maricruz, but finds her sister Theresa instead. Theresa urges Sucre to leave, but Sucre wants to know if Theresa told Maricruz he wanted to see her. Theresa shakes her head sadly, “Yes.” Sucre – crushed – rips his crucifix off his neck hands it to Theresa and he’s out of there as fast as that motorcycle can carry him.
Sara and Kellerman eat Chinese food, and Sara asks Kellerman if he knows who she is. Kellerman says, “Yeah,” he saw the news last night, and he doesn’t care. He has skeletons in his closet too, and one of them wears a dress. Sara laughs, thanks him for his Ã¢â‚¬Ëœlack of judgment.’ Kellerman tells her that she doesn’t have to talk about it if she doesn’t want to, and Sara just says she didn’t mean for it to happen. Kellerman says he has a question – she doesn’t have to answer if she doesn’t want to, but was she having a thing with “that guy?” Sara gives an embarrassed laugh, “You’re right, I don’t want to talk about it.” Kellerman asks her if he’s worried that Michael is out there. Before Sara can answer there is a knock on her door, it’s dear old Daddy and a couple of Secret Service agents. She lets him in and he indicates that the Secret Service guys can stay outside the apartment. Kellerman says he’ll leave and the Governor says it’s okay, he’ll only be a minute. She takes her father into her kitchen so they can talk privately. Sara makes amends to her father while Kellerman sifts through her mail, finds the Origami bird with the phone number in it, takes a picture with his cell phone. Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sara’s crying, feels so bad for what she’s put her dad through, she knows he didn’t read the file that she gave him about Burrows, but that’s not what she’s trying to say to him. She’s trying to say she’s sorry. To his credit, the Governor says they’re going to get through this together. They hug.
Kellerman’s walking through the street now, and his cell rings – the woman on the other end says they traced the number he gave her, but the line has been disconnected. Kellerman asks whose number it was, she says no one’s. It’s been out of service for seventeen years.
Command Center is notified of a C-Note sighting. He jumped off a train Preston, Idaho. Mahone’s back to his old driven self, completely on his game as he figures out that they’re all moving west, and they need to know why.
Tweener’s been saved by Michael and Lincoln, but he’s a bit disoriented from the blows to the head, “What the hell are Michael and Lincoln are doing in Woody’s?” Michael says they came for him, T-Bag told them where he was. While Michael disconnects the phone, Lincoln interrogates Tweener, “Where’s the map? Hand it over.” Tweener takes a moment to put two and two together, adds up to four nicely, “He told you I had it?” Michael and Lincoln share a look, T-Bag pulled one over on them again.
T-Bag didn’t escape from the car, but he has an alternate plan. He stares at the map over and over again, clearly trying to memorize it. When he’s sure he’s got it, he puts the map in his mouth, chews it and swallows.
Lincoln and Michael, Tweener in tow, open the trunk of the car to find T-Bag lying on his back a scrap of paper on his chest. Michael sees the scrap says, “Tell me that’s not what I know it is.” T-Bag smiles, takes the last scrap of paper, and puts it in his mouth, “Don’t worry,” he says, “Before I ate it I committed it to my photographic memory. I would have tattooed it to my body but I didn’t have the time.” He turns to Lincoln, “When you strip search a lifer, you should always check his coin purse.” Linc pulls T-Bag out of the car, “Tell us where the money is.” T-Bag’s in the catbird seat, says he’s got the info in his head, and they’ve got the muscle for digging. They’re partners now. He saunters into the back seat of the car. Tweener turns to Linc, “So we split it four ways, right?” Linc says “Wrong. You’re not worth 1.5,” points to the trunk, “Get in.” Tweener’s not fond of the idea of riding in the trunk, but Linc convinces him, “Get in.”
Sucre pulls the motorcycle up to a gas station, fills up the tank as he looks at the clock, it’s two-thirty. He hears Theresa’s voice in his head, “The wedding’s at two-thirty, Fernando.” Sucre’s a broken man.
C-Note’s been doing some walking; needs to cool off. He stops at a little house with an RV in front, uses the hose to grab a quick drink of water. The lady of the house opens the front door, asks if she can help. C-Note tries to come up with a story, notices the Ã¢â‚¬ËœFor Sale’ sign in the dash of the RV., “How much you selling that for?” he asks the woman. She says it’s probably out of his price range, forty-thousand dollars. C-Note says he’ll be back in a couple of days. She says she can’t hold it, he says he’ll be back with cash.
Mahone’s so happy he’s near giddy, they’ve got confirmation on Sucre in Vegas. Mahone starts drawing lines all over that map of his, connecting the dots until Eureka! – they all wind up in Utah. He asks his team if they’ve ever heard of D.B. Cooper; they have but don’t get the connection. Mahone’s in his element, all pins and jabber as he explains, “Someone hijacked a plane in Portland, and jumped out over the Pacific Northwest. And someone got arrested two days later, in Bisbee, Arizona. The same guy who was treated for a broken knee at a free clinic near Salt Lake. Same guy whose Nova blew a gasket ten miles short of the border. Same guy who almost got away in a stolen car, until he ran a woman down in Bisbee. Vehicular manslaughter. Arrested and booked as Charles Westmoreland. But he didn’t have the money on him there. Which means he got rid of it somewhere along the way?” Wheeler wants to know if this is fact, if he figured it all out, and Mahone says, “No, Scofield did. That’s why he was bringing the old man along. The money’s in Utah. And they’re all going to get it.”
Lincoln’s at the wheel of Geary’s car again, Michael shotgun and T-Bag’s blabbing away from the back seat, “You know in Thailand they got a black market where you can get any type of surgery you need. Even a hand transplant.” T-Bag has a look out the window, “Turnoff should be up here.” They come to a narrow gravel road with a sign that says “Kokosing Road” and T-Bag gets all excited, “Slow down, slow down, that was it – that little itty bitty road back there..” Michael wants to know how far from here. T-Bag thinks it’s a mile or so, if he remembers the scale properly. They get out of the car, and leaving Tweener in the trunk, they walk past the sign that says “Private Property, No Trespassing.”
The Governor is in his office reading a file as Bennett comes in, tells the Governor that he hopes more than anyone that Tancredi gets the nomination, but he should be prepared – the Burrows thing might steamroll. The Governor says they’ll wait it out then, just like Bennett said. Bennett shakes his head, “Too many headlines. Burrows’ lawyer, Nick Savrinn, is already dead, his kid is awaiting trial on double homicide, and now lead counsel, Veronica Donovan is classified as missing.” The Governor wants to know if she’s missing or dead. Bennett shrugs, but his face indicates she’s probably dead. Tancredi wants to know if there’s anything connecting all of – before he can finish the sentence Bennett stops him, “Frank. It’s probably best you don’t ask a whole lot of questions.” Bennett leaves, and the Governor looks down at the file he was reading before Bennett entered, the label is in ballpoint pen, reads Ã¢â‚¬ËœLincoln Burrows’ on it. Tancredi tosses it to the side.
Michael, T-Bag and Lincoln climb a hill, Michael asks T-Bag “Where now?” T-Bag says “Right up there, hills border the property, Double K is just on the other side.” Michael’s hopeful, starts to talk about what he’s going to buy with the money, “First thing? New shoes. Second? Tacos.” Linc plays too, “Third – ice cold beer.” Michael continues the game, “Fourth? Toothpaste.” Just then, T-Bag lands in a big old mud puddle, but the brothers don’t care, they’re too busy playing their game.
We stay on the mud puddle as Mahone’s reflection appears in the murky water – but we’re not in Utah, we’re in Mahone’s backyard. He’s staring into that birdbath again. His phone snaps him out of it, the voice on the other end informs him that a car is out front waiting to take him to the airport; his flight to Utah leaves in one hour. Before Mahone leaves, he takes one long last look at that birdbath.
Back on the hill T-Bag circumnavigates another muddy puddle, as Michael and Lincoln keep playing their game, “Ninth thing? A shower,” says Michael. Lincoln counters, “Tenth thing? A good night’s sleep.” Michael adds, “On clean sheets, in a nice hotel.” They’re optimistic, hopeful as Lincoln notices the stakes marking the property line, “Should be dead ahead.” And finally they reach the top of the hill – first Michael, then Lincoln, then T-Bag each of their faces a mask of disbelief: spread out below them is a huge housing development where the ranch should be.