In any event, Kellerman pulls the grate over, tamps it into place, and aims a loogie between the slats. Down below, Quinn's busy screaming. "For the love of God, Montresor! For the love of God!" Above, Hale is stating the obvious with, "You can't just leave him down there. He'll die." Kellerman defaults to the argument he now uses to quell any Hale-related objection: if Hale doesn't like it, he doesn't have to live anymore. Cold! Cold, yet...hot. Welcome back, you magnificent bastard.
In Cell Escarpara, Sucre's complaining that it's getting testy in St. Louis. Michael will be back in there soon -- he just needs to finish listening to his little device. Which he does in time-lapse. Sucre fidgets mightily during all this. Michael finally concludes, "Eighteen minutes is how long we have between each time the guards pass beneath the infirmary windows on their rounds at night...it means, four days from now, on the night of the escape, we'll have 18 minutes to get the bars off the infirmary window, and for all seven of us to get across the wire and over the wall." Sucre asks, "Is that doable?" "Of course," Michael reassures him.
Turns out, Michael lied like a rug. In the next scene, Team Escarpara's in St. Louis, and while Sucre, Abruzzi, and C-Note are all exulting over having hit the pipe they'll use for their escape, Michael tells Linc: "I've done the math. It'll take us five minutes to get the bars off the window in the infirmary, and two minutes for each of us to get across the wire." The numbers have confused Linc. He replies, "So?" Michael concludes, "We've only got 18 minutes. We've got too many people. One of them has to go." Oooh, the tension! Who will it be? We'll find out next week.