Speaking of the tunnel...the remaining four escapees are in there, and Whistler's getting nervous. Michael assures him, "It's just a matter of seconds now." What follows is a tense sequence in which we see the four escapees slithering out of the tunnel's entrance, rolling below the Jeep parked conveniently overhead, and making for the break in the fence that Sucre helped create. And the reason it's so tense: it's interleaved with shots of Bellick bringing the guards down to the tunnel, them shooting their way through the lock, and the posse just barely missing Splenda as he gets out. (And T-Bag only now realizing that Scofield planned this on purpose.) Because this is a nicely paced sequence, I'll ignore the little voice in my head asking, "How did Michael know the Jeep would be parked right above the tunnel, thereby shielding everyone from detection from the many armed guards still swarming through no man's land?" Shut up, little voice! Michael's near-omniscient mastery of coincidence was established in the opening sequence of this episode! So you just shut up real good!
Anyway, the four guys get out just as Bellick snivels about how if the guards do the count, they'll be four short. General Whoosis immediately radios the guards doing the count to discover...they're four short. And he has a nostrils-flaring reaction shot that is totally telenovela-worthy. All he needs is some sweet, sobbing young thing in the background and a henchman with a pencil-thin moustache. But wait! (Imagine the music swelling dramatically here.) When Whistler rolled out from under the Jeep, his field guide to North American birds fell out of his pocket. Mahone rolls on by it too. Fortunately, none of the guards have noticed it either. I'm just imagining that season four will be all Susan B. threatening to kill people and shouting, "You broke out of that prison, you can just break right back in and get that book, mister!"
We then get a truly beautiful sunrise shot. My, how quickly the morning has broken. The four escapees are running through the lush jungle, not at all impeded by underbrush nor besmirched by sweat. The guards right on their tails are looking similarly fresh -- this despite having to run with rifles cocked at their shoulders. I feel like the NRA should look into promoting this sort of activity as a new fitness craze. In a nation that loves its guns and its faddish exercise activities (Tae-Bo, anyone?), riflerobics should be huge. ["Depressingly, my reaction is something like...oh, I'm sure there already is this, somewhere." -- Miss Alli]