The credits roll, we have a brief pause where the commercials would go were I not watching this on iTunes (and thank you, FOX, for having the brains to recognize that modern TV watchers are beginning to demand control of where, when, and how they watch TV shows), and then we're back to the Sona courtyard. A few inmates are holding an extremely improvisational soccer practice. Michael is chatting up Splenda, asking him to rustle up two watches. Splenda takes Michael's cash and sighs, "I'm not even going to ask why." Smart boy. Michael asks about binoculars, and Splenda directs him to the snoozing Guillermo's cell.
Michael steels himself to lift the binoculars. It's so cute how, even after two seasons of assorted misdeeds, he's got no stomach for violating any kind of social contract. We then see him having a sit-down with Whistler in a tidy cell. Michael pulls up the floor rug and grabs something with which to write. As he sketches on the ground, he explains, "We're leaving tomorrow. This is how we're getting out of Sona: we're getting out of the cellblock. That shouldn't be a problem: the grate and the bars are weak. But we're going to need some kind of rope, some kind of ladder to let us down to the other side. That's why I figured out the safest line from here to the hole in the fence. We do it in the day, we'll only be visible to the two guard towers. The perimeter guards are less predictable, but they're only on at night." Whistler asks, "Scurrying across a field in the middle of the day?" Michael explains that it's the only way to avoid the Jeep patrol outside the perimeter. Whistler gives Michael a measuring look. Michael goes on explaining that they'll time to breakout for 2 PM, when the prisoners' soccer game provides some distraction. He pins his hopes on one guard who's got a glare problem in the afternoon. Whistler notes that it's not much of a break. Michael concedes that and throws down his writing implement. He then broods over the second guard: "His weakness has yet to be determined." Michael then trains the binoculars on the guard and intones, "If we're going to get around these guys, we've got to get to know them." Going by what he sees in the binocs, I'm going to guess that the guard really likes his gun. Start from there and build out, Scofield.
Meanwhile, on the outside...we get a shot of beautiful Panama City, and then of Linc and Sofia holed up in their hotel, completely missing out on beautiful Panama City. They are studying a map and dickering over the best place to plant the getaway vehicle. There's something different about Linc in this scene...could it be that he's not covered in the flop sweat of the well-intentioned liar? No...could it be that he hasn't hit anyone in several consecutive scenes? No... Oh! I have it! He's wearing a t-shirt! And thus his face is not bathed in the usual glow of the ambient light reflecting off his gleaming bare chest. That's why he looks so different. Anyway, his mobile rings and it's Susan B. She's lounging in a café and leisurely carping on Linc over Michael's timeline. Then she tells Linc that once Whistler's free, she'll need to see him ASAP. As she relays this demand, we see a fragment of what she's writing on a pad: "Stampede. Monument @ 12:21 ... @ 12:24 ... @ 12:29 ... ERC." Linc blithers on about how he's still working on the post-prison part of the plan and his voice begins rising, but the multitasking Susan B. has no sympathy. She snaps, "Lincoln, calm down. Sounds to me like you and your brother are in over your heads." We pause to see Linc rub his forehead in the universal sign of weary irritation. Back to Susan B., who gives a very funny look around before cracking, "There's a bad joke about Sara in there somewhere." Okay, that made me dislike her a little less. Linc lowers his voice and promises to call once all the details are in place, adding, "I want this to work out just as badly as you do." Susan amends, "More, I'm sure."