Then we zoom back to Chicago, where the fastest trial EVER is on the fastest break EVER. Dr. Sara's lawyer, Marty, comes back and tells her about the offer the prosecution's made: twelve years. She says, "No -- the jury heard Michael's tape." The lawyer points out, "They heard a convicted felon lie for a woman he clearly cares for. He's got no credibility. Sara, we need to take a hard look at what they're offering." Dr. Sara points out, "'We' aren't going to prison. I am." Marty points out that Dr. Sara happens to be the only one associated with the breakout who is A) not dead, B) not currently receiving sweetheart deals from the FBI, and C) in custody and on trial. Ergo, she is going to be the scapegoat for this whole sordid mess. Dr. Sara mulls this over, then asks shakily, "Twelve years?"

Then we cut to Linc and Mahone. Mahone is seated at a table, with neither of his hands visible. Linc is leaning against a pillar; one hand is visible and the other is behind him. Apparently, Michael didn't answer the phone back at the boat. Mahone hopes that Michael will make it back to the boat. Linc comments, "You should see yourself: you look like you're hanging in there by a thread." Mahone looks away, then looks back to say, "I just want this over with." Linc replies, "Then you should never have come down here... in case you haven't noticed, me and my brother don't quit for no-one." I just love how the writers are all, "Do we need to point out that Linc is tough? Let us have him mangle the English grammar!" Mahone snaps back to Linc, "Thank God for that, because it's guys like you who keep guys like me in business. Kept guys like me in business, rather." Linc punctures that little bubble: "It's going to end bad for you, man. Couple of things in this world that I'm good at. One of them's looking into a man's eye and knowing when he's beat." Okay, I can see where that is more useful than knowing when to use the subjective pronoun versus the objective pronoun.

Meanwhile, in the car of felons, we see that no, the guys have NOT restrained T-Bag. Oh, Michael -- a brain the size of a planet, a lifetime's experience with this wily human cockroach, and yet you cannot combine the two to conclude that the only way you're getting T-Bag to that embassy is if he is tied up more tightly than William Shatner's corset? Naturally, T-Bag manages to find a screwdriver that was rolling around on the floor of the car, then uses it to stab Sucre in the gut. This unanticipated glitch in Michael's plan so unsettles him, he steers the car off the road. Of course, Sucre's screaming might have also helped distract him.