The team gets started. First order of business: disabuse Roland of any notion that anything he does will not have to be approved by Michael first, including picking a bedroom. Second order of business: watch Lincoln go through his by-now-drearily-standard threats to "settle up" with Mahone once whatever urgent task they have to collaborate on is finished. Mahone, who truly looks as if the only thing keeping him alive is the prospect of extracting revenge upon the One World Conspiracy, is like, "I believe I can accommodate you there." Third order of business: Michael motivates the troops. He says, "Obviously, there's a lot of history in this room -- that's a given. But if we're going to pull this off, it's going to take all of us. We got to work together. So if anyone has a problem, get it out now. You want to clear the air with someone, now's the time." Oh, everyone has problems, but nobody feels like sharing them.
Mahone gets them started on the real task, explaining Whistler's assignment (drop off Scylla to the stereotypical silver-haired embodiment of corruption), and explains that said silver-haired embodiment of corruption is referred to as the "cardholder" and his job is to keep Scylla safe. This guy completely failed at his job! How is he still alive? Anyhoodle, Mahone didn't get a chance to lay eyes on the cardholder, but he did check out the driver. Using his still-sharp FBI observation skills, Mahone narrows down the field of potential guys they're looking at: ex-military, between the ages of 45-55, making six figures and in private security. He figures Don Self can pull tax records using those parameters, which should narrow it down to about 50 people, and from there, Mahone can make a visual ID. "Find the driver, you find the card holder," he says.
And now, it's time for the seemingly-extraneous subplot that can be summed up in a paragraph or less: T-Bag, superpowered survivor that he is, is stranded roughly 60 miles south of the U.S. border, somewhere in the Mexican desert, with his paunchy little assistant guy. The two of them are parched and hungry, and when T-Bag lays down to rest, his inept little buddy attempts to kill him. Naturally, in the melee, said little buddy bashes his head on the side of a rock and ends up dead. There's a thoughtful pause on T-Bag's part... then we cut to him building a fire and settling in for a night of long pig. The next day, as he's stumbling around, he comes across two amiable, if stereotypical, SoCal guys who give him a ride to San Diego. (When noticing his gastrointestinal distress, one asks, "Did you eat some bad Mexican?" T-Bag's face as he says, "You could say that" is priceless.) Because T-Bag is not exactly dumb, he's quickly figured out that Whistler had some stuff stashed in a locker at a San Diego bus depot, and he ends his stint in this episode by happily discovering that Whistler had left papers, credit cards and ID. T-Bag's got himself a credit line! And ten bucks says he stays right the heck away from Taco Bell or Chipotle for the next ten years.