C-Note then continues to sow the seeds of discord by trying to drag Michael into it with the whole, "Don't think I don't know you weren't planning on heading to Utah!" business. He asks, "When were you planning on telling us about the money, man?" Sucre: "What money?" The Goddess Eris: "Well, done, Minion Miles! Keep on with my work!" C-Note: "Will do! Team, I'm talking about the $5 million Westmoreland had. Michael was not planning on saying anything apparently?"
Michael says curtly, "You don't know what you're talking about." C-Note snarls, "You wish I didn't know." He is really presumptuous, isn't he? First he's all, "I want in on the escape" and now he's all "I want in on the loot," and it's not like he's the one getting framed for a murder or tattooing blueprints on his body. Sucre's all, "Wait! Wait! What money?"
Meanwhile, back at Fox River...Pope is striding through the halls when Mahone catches up to him. Pope asks caustically, "It's a little early for the FBI to be showing up, don't you think?" Mahone points out that the minute the cons cross state line, this gets bumped to the Feds anyway. Pope snaps, "Yeah, well, that is not going to happen." And Mahone shows that he's not just a master of manipulating the press. He pacifies Pope by saying, "I hope you're right. Which is why I'm going to suggest that we cut through any interagency politics from the outset and focus on transparency." Pope agrees to this. Mahone then reveals that his idea of transparency is to grill Pope about his staff, specifically, Dr. Sara. "From what I'm hearing, she may have abetted the escapees -- opened the door that allowed them to get out," Mahone says. Pope is like, "Okay, this amusing little experiment in transparency is over. Bye now!"
Speaking of the good doctor, there she is, in a hospital bed, not on a morgue slab. Well, that's one cliff-hanger resolved. The voiceless ululations that signal A Very Poignant Moment kick in and some medical types come in and babble about how "either she fights and lives, or quits and dies." Or respires and has lots of little flashbacks implying that Michael Scofield is so compelling, the very thought of him can rouse women from morphine-induced comas. Again -- not news to certain of our forum members.