We transition to the sketches, where nobody has apparently noticed the Cole Pfeiffer looks a lot like Fox River Eight escapee Theodore Bagwell. Then we see that General Von Baldy's holding the sketches and asking incredulously, "Gretchen? Bagwell? Have our people at DOT monitor every traffic camera from San Diego to the Bay Area." Lisa's still giving him the stinkeye. You'd think it would be mitigated by her knowing that finally, she can say "I told you so" about Daddy's no-good girlfriend, but nooooo, she's still hung up on the fact that General Von Baldy shot Scuderi. General Von Baldy makes no apologies: "Knowing when to sever a cancerous limb --" "He was one of your most trusted advisors!" she interrupts. Von Baldy interrupts her with "I brought you in. I told you that a cardholder has certain responsibilities. If you can't handle what we're doing here, it's time you let me know." Well, that shuts Lisa right the heck up.
Back in the hotel room, the Fox news lady is still blathering on, and in a refreshing change from that organization's usual practices, she's actually referencing facts and things that are not intellectually dishonest insinuations. Truly, this show requires a massive suspension of disbelief. Mahone sits down and begins scheming with Michael: "If we're going to flush Self out, how do you think he intended to unload Scylla? He's got to sell it." Michael sighs as he realizes they'll be dealing with Gretchen again.
We then cut to Self driving along with T-Bag in the shotgun seat. T-Bag says, "Tell me when I'm getting warm. You hand-pick Michael Scofield and the bunch, trucked them all out here on Uncle Sam's dime for your bidding, and now they're standing right in the crosshairs for what you did. I gotta hand it to you, Don -- if that ain't the Mona Lisa. [Chuckles.] I always said cops are more crooked than criminals. Let me guess -- a little slice of heaven, that's what this was all about? A gambling debt? Maybe you're a geologist of the rock candy variety?" Stung by the insinuation that he's a cokehead, Self asks if the address T-Bag got from Gretchen's prints was right. It is, T-Bag says. Self points to the gun and says, "Good. Now shut up or I'll shoot you." He and T-Bag then spend the next two minutes bickering over whether or not T-Bag knows to shut his mouth. Oh, how cute -- it's like a Crosby-and-Hope road movie. One can only hope Gretchen will play the Dorothy Lamour role!
Back at the hotel room, it's Michael's turn to stand at the window while Dr. Sara grouses, "How long does it take to find a pay phone in this city?" Michael makes soothing noises and we soon learn that Dr. Sara's agitated because she's about to give Michael yet another ill-advised injection to keep his tremors under control. As she stabs him, she says, "Here's the thing: you need help. And running around trying to track down Self isn't ... safe. You could be in Mexico in a few hours. There are doctors there that I trust. And you've been taking care of all of us. I really think it's okay if we take care of you." Michael tells her, "Surgery or no surgery, I'm never going to be able to live with myself unless I find a way to take these people down. It's that simple. And I get it -- I'm not going to demand that you feel the same way." Then he sighs, because things were so much simpler back when he was merely masterminding an elaborate, contingency-riddled plan to break out of prison and she was the helpful lady doc who would unwittingly abet his plans.