I can also see Dr. Sara saying, "Michael? Michael?" and as she does, Kellerman's eyes roll up, as sharp and focused as any predator's. Any trace of pie-loving camaraderie is gone.
Thanks, dear. We go from that mushy stuff to a convoy of SUVs, barreling down the highway. Mahone is riding in the lead car and wants to know how long it'll be before they get to the motel. The driver says 10 minutes; Mahone suggests five. Boy, he's as eager as I am to see who he's actually trying to capture.
Back at a motel, a shirtless Tweener emerges from the shower. "Yo, I haven't taken a shower like that in forever," he says, meaning "not with 40 other guys, half of whom are trying to date me." And let me add that prison life must be hard if it makes you appreciate the tepid flow of seedy motel shower heads. He notices that Debra Jean has her purse, as if she's headed out the door. "I was going to surprise you," she says. How? By turning Tweener over to the Feds? "I was going to get some tequila and limes." Tequila, limes... and federal agents? Tweener offers to change quickly so that he can accompany her; she declines. "It'll only take a minute," she says. Betrayal often does. Tweener observes that Debra Jean seems kind of nervous. "I do?" she asks. "Yeah, you're sweating," he replies. Debra Jean concedes that she might be nervous. "Trust me, girl, you got nothing to worry about, all right?" Tweener says. Yeah, but do you. "I'm one of the good guys," Tweener insists. "You seem like it," she says. And she's off, presumably to instruct the FBI sniper where to position himself for the kill shot.
Over at another motel, Abruzzi's car pulls up. As he instructs False Ted Leonsis to sit tight, I can't help but wonder why Abruzzi just didn't dispatch some trustworthy goons to do his dirty work. I guess it's this hands-on attention to detail that has allowed him to rise up the ranks to head his own crime family. Abruzzi walks into the motel room to tell Fibonacci that his number is up -- and while the shower is running, the room itself appears to be empty. Meanwhile, Abruzzi seems not to have heard the squealing tires from outside the room. No matter -- that helpful voice from outside will soon clue him in. "If you're looking for the rat, John," says Agent Mahone, standing outside with an army of federal agents, "Fibonacci is 2,000 miles from here." Abruzzi is more interested in figuring out whether it's local cops or Feds that have him cornered -- the local cops offer a free T-shirt and commemorative photo for each arrest, I guess. Mahone indulges Abruzzi's curiosity: "Feds, John. Only row out the best for a man of your stature." Abruzzi has more questions: "I deserve to know who turned on me? Tommy." Indeed, Fish Head Tommy was facing a RICO rap and was looking to avoid prison time. Also, he really hated that whole "Fish Head Tommy" nickname -- the man has a skin condition, damnit, so why tease him about it? Mahone invites Abruzzi to come out with his hands up and with his mind clear of any thoughts of escape: "You are going back to Fox River today. Or the morgue. It's your call." In a nice little touch, Abruzzi holds the crucifix the missus gave him earlier in his left hand -- the wedding band is prominently displayed -- before announcing that he's coming out. Mahone instructs him that the weapon comes out first, which Abruzzi apparently takes to mean in his right hand ready to fire. "These are serious men here," Mahone reminds Abruzzi, as you hear the various Feds cocking their rifles. "They have instructions to shoot at the first sign of aggression. Please. I'm asking you respectfully. Drop the weapon, kneel, and put your hands on your head." And if you or I ever find ourselves surrounded by federal agents with locked and loaded weaponry pointed right at us as we are overcome with a sudden urge to commit suicide-by-cop, we could worse than utter Abruzzi's final words on this show: "I kneel only to God. I don't see him here." He raises his gun, and things end about as well as you might expect them to -- Abruzzi staring straight up at the sky with several entry wounds in his chest and Mahone looking waxy, though no more so than usual.