What then follows is a chase scene... only done at race-walk speed. T-Bag's threading his way through the crowd, the stooges go to follow him, the three unwilling T-Bag-baggers follow the stooges, and Mahone pops out of a doorway and is about to follow Michael when... LINCOLN SMASH!
Mahone and Lincoln fall into a conveniently empty warehouse-type room. A gun goes skidding across the floor. Mahone looks up from the floor just in time to see Lincoln's fist coming down. There's some hitting, but when Lincoln goes to kick Mahone, Mahone manages to grab his leg and bring him down to his level. The two guys get up and circle each other. Mahone warns, "You're not going to like how this ends, Lincoln. I'm giving you a chance, right now. Just back away, all right? Just back away." Linc replies, "You son of a bitch -- you killed my dad. You're done." He swings at Mahone, Mahone ducks, and --
And it's time for commercials. You know, when I think "Clare Danes," I do not think "dancer!" But those Gap pants do look cute. Do they come with a Patrick Wilson-esque manservant to carry me hither and yon?
When we come back, Mahone has Michael in a headlock. Linc is busy trying to shake the smaller-framed man off his back. He finally manages to do so by finding Mahone's bullet wound and digging in. Way to go, Linc! He scampers over to where the gun is, picks it up, and holds it on Mahone, asking, "Those bullet wounds don't heal too good, do they, Mahone?" He then gives Mahone a choice: hand over the handcuffs or discover whether opening one's cranium physically opens one's mind cognitively as well.
T-Bag race-walks over to the destination on his slip of paper. The stooges wait outside. Bellick approaches them, doing his best American tourist impersonation. He's even got the yokel accent and everything. Bellick asks for directions to the Cathedral de Guadalupe is, explaining, "I was supposed to meet my old lady there a half hour ago." Neither stooge is interested in conversation. Dumb stooges! The fastest way to get rid of someone asking directions is to give them directions -- directions that take them far, far away from you. Whether or not they're accurate is your call. The pimp-cum-stooge snaps at Bellick, "Why don't you just keep on walking, pal," and Bellick feigns outrage that Americans would be so snotty to a fellow citizen tourist. The pimp-cum-stooge tells Bellick to beat it, and that's when we realize that Bellick's distraction was successful: because neither stooge heard Sucre sneak up on them, and they don't notice until he cocks the pistol at their heads. Michael then pops up to say hi. Bellick disarms the beefier stooge, and Michael orders the stooges to the alley. Well. That went suspiciously well.