Hey, it's the bucolic Panamanian coastline. Linc is sitting on the deck of the Christina Rose, composing postcards to his absent brother -- "Weather is beautiful. Wish I knew where the fuck you were."
Oh, not really. Linc is not a man of letters. That is also made abundantly clear when he picks up Michael's handheld -- the one displaying the false Sucre message -- and stares at it as if it's about to bite him.
We then cut to beautiful Panama City with the kind of shot that begs for a Phil Keoghan voiceover like, "Although eight of the ten largest skyscrapers in South America are being built in this capital city, much of the city's style reflects its history as a port for gold and silver shipments back to Spain." The music isn't quite on board, though: we're getting the jazzy, caliente version of the theme associated with cons who are up to no good. So that's our cue to cut to T-Bag, who is sitting alone in a hotel room and playing solitaire. He's looking awfully nervous. Perhaps the faces of the many people he's killed have begun floating up before him. Or perhaps he's not looking forward to heading off to the destination written on a piece of paper -- 213 Ave. Olivera, Second Floor, Red Door. Red Door? Like the spa? Why would you possibly be nervous about that -- afraid the manicurist is going to ask awkward questions?
So T-Bag eventually steps out on to the balcony to get some fresh air, and we pan from his spot to one in the courtyard below, where Michael is doing a rotten job of blending into the foliage. That is a hazard associated with dressing like the Unabomber in a country where breezy linen shirts are the norm.
Then we go into a lot of flashbacks detailing T-Bag and Michael's acrimonious history, from the first time T-Bag offered Michael his pocket to the short-lived Seth's plea for help and subsequent suicide, T-Bag's gleeful killing of poor C.O. Bob, his attempt to kill Abruzzi and his charming treatment of the judgmentally-impaired Jeanette.
Frankly, all that sequence does is remind me how much I've missed seeing Michael's tattoos this season. And how much I've missed the sense that the show had a tight plot arc with a well-defined denouement; this season's had a touch of the "wrap up the stories? But we haven't figured out next season yet!" to it.