C-Note walks into a tent and salutes, and Commander Meyers tells him he's at ease. C-Note tells him, "The whiskey that you ordered, sir, will be here in a couple of days." I like the way he deftly mixes military manners into decidedly non-military black-market activities. Meyers tells him he actually brought C-Note in to talk about something else, namely that pesky little prisoner abuse report he wrote about the torture at the Kuwaiti prison. How far is C-Note willing to go? C-Note says, "Whatever it takes, sir. I particularly have no love for the desert donkeys, but I do for the Geneva Convention." Meyers says that any news of U.S. troops torturing prisoners would likely lead to retaliation. Then you'd think the smartest thing would be to just not torture at all, instead of putting your own troops in an eye-for-an-eye situation, wouldn't you? C-Note points out, "I'm not planning on calling a press conference. What I'm saying is, what I saw was wrong. And someone needs to take responsibility" For his moral clarity, C-Note is arrested and dishonorably discharged for smuggling. Meyers watches C-Note get dragged off, thereby insuring that his own behind won't be held responsible for the wrongdoing.
Speaking of being sent up the river unjustly, it's Linc's sentencing. We get a flashback sequence where a young Michael watches young Lincoln and young Veronica twine hands. In the present, Michael says fervently, "I'm so sorry, Linc." Ever the big brother, Lincoln tells him, "Don't be. It's not your fault."
While all this is going on, Sucre and Maricruz are in her swanky neighborhood, in her swanky bedroom, enjoying the afterglow. He begins simpering something along the lines of "After we make love…" and that is where he loses me, because if there's one phrase in the language that I would ban for its incredible smurfiness, it's "make love." I always wonder if really spiteful sex would be euphemistically referred to as "making hate," or if pity sex is "making ambivalence." Anyway, the upshot to this scene is that Maricruz wants to know what Sucre's ambitions are, and she's not going to settle for an answer like, "What I really want to do with my life -- what I want to do for a living -- is I want to be with you. I'm good at it."
C-Note's back in Chicago, and he must have done some extremely persuasive talking, because his wife is still blissfully ignorant of the circumstances in which he came home. And while I respect that C-Note was willing to get booted from the military rather than back down on his convictions, I do not respect that he just dropped the whole damn issue, because if he felt so strongly about prisoner welfare that he's willing to take the stand, the first damn thing he should have done when he got home was called a lawyer, and the second thing he should have done was call someone at the Chicago Tribune and explain why it is that the same people who benefited from his smuggling suddenly had problems with it.