Back in the prison, it's all very busy, and Pope is touring the facilities and picking up slack. I wonder if it's totally slipped his mind that he was supposed to be celebrating a big wedding anniversary tonight, or if that's running through the back of his mind all, GODDAMIT, that punk-ass punk worked on my gift for months, he KNEW my anniversary was tonight, he BETRAYED me, the INCONSIDERATE little punk couldn't have waited ONE DAY before escaping, but noooo, he had to ruin my ANNIVERSARY... Anyway, the point of this scene is to ladle out some exposition: there's a lockdown at all the major regional airports; the escapee's relatives now have their phones tapped (and this is different from the rest of us in America how?) and houses under surveillance; and the security dudes have just figured out that the clinic door was unlocked. An orderly angrily says, "I don't see how that's possible. These doors are locked down every night when we leave. It's priority number one. The only thing I can think is that someone left it open for them." Pope looks extremely pissed by this possibility. Gosh, Stacy Keach does a great slow burn.
We get a shot of Fitz drive (remember its mention in the tattoo?) and the van speeds down the quiet road. We see that T-Bag and Michael are sharing the bench seat in the middle; Linc is in front with Sucre riding shotgun, and the remaining Team Escarpara members are in the back seat. As he fumbles under his shirt for something, T-Bag asks with elaborate casualness, "John, I have to ask why you insisted Lincoln drive while you take that particular seat in the back?" Well, that would be because Abruzzi's got a wee little pistol and he's positioned it so he can shoot T-Bag quickly. As T-Bag asks, "What is it exactly that you've got up under there, huh?" we see that he's put one half of his purloined handcuffs on his left wrist. In an instant, he's snapped the other bracelet on Michael's right wrist. Michael screams in startled fury, "What the hell are you doing?"
Abruzzi has the gun against T-Bag's temple and he asks, "Do you think that's going to stop me?" T-Bag points out, "You shoot me, Pretty here is going to be dragging around 170 pounds of dead Alabama flesh with him. And considering how much you need him to get this little Fibonacci vendetta of yours, huh? I just don't think you're going to pull that trigger." The camera flashes to Linc, who is wearing his "Don't Make Me Turn This Car Around!" expression. Michael rattles his bracelets and looks at T-Bag with impotent fury. Abruzzi cocks the hammer on the gun --