The episode begins with what has to have been a worse ride than the trip back from Vegas after Roland lost Charybdis -- it's Linc driving, Gretchen riding shotgun, and Don Self and T-Bag in the back. Oh, you know picking a radio station prompted people to pull their guns. (I like to imagine T-Bag saying tersely, with his gun to Don Self's temple, "Let me listen to an hour of All Things Considered and you'll never have to worry about this situation again" while Don croaks, "Mancow!") There's the ring of a phone, and we see that Linc and company have lumbered into a swanky hotel suite (or condo), and Dr. Sara is similarly ensconced in plushy digs. Dr. Sara and Linc share a brief expository phone call -- he's in Miami, she's at some high-end hotel with "flowers and a fruit basket and absolutely no information about Michael." Linc catches her up on Team Scylla with "Sucre split. We left a couple of messages with Mahone telling him where we were ... that was two cell phones back." Dr. Sara asks, "Who's 'we'? Who are you with?" Linc obliquely says, "People who I don't trust?" Dr. Sara then tries a reality check in re: Lincoln's crazy plan to retrieve Scylla, but he basically says "Ksssh, ksssh, the connection's breaking up!" and ditches her.

Besides, Linc has a mission now: through the magic of moving the plot along, there's now a thread between the guy who attempted to kill Gretchen and Don Self last week. It's a club called "The Grafton." T-Bag asks, "How do we know that this guy's still in Miami, that he hasn't sold it already? Not that I'm complaining -- I've had some filthy, filthy times in this state --" Wait ... when did T-Bag shave his face? Oh, it's weird to see him without facial hair. Don Self chides, "Don't screw this up, 'cause it's our only lead on this guy." Linc drones, "Be thankful I haven't killed you," and takes off. And it's only then that I notice Gretchen's businesslady suit is all black leather. Where does she shop -- North Beach Leather, circa 1991? Don Self's annoying yapping follows Linc out the door, and when he turns to Gretchen to bitch some more, she shuts him down with, "Why don't we all just focus on who's got Scylla? Whaddya say?"

We transition from Gretchen's face-scanning software to Michael waking up in the middle of a Restoration Hardware set. He wanders about his spacious room, confirming that the doors and windows are locked, looks out the window to the well-manicured grounds below, then checks out the bathroom, which is possessed of a fully-stocked cabinet and a water heater. The lead security goon we remember from prior episodes comes in and delightedly tells Michael he's in "a house, in the woods, sixty miles from anywhere. Swept clean of weapons so you don't need to worry your head about that. There are no bars on the windows or the doors, but there are three kinds of mountain lion in the area, so you may want to stay close by." What is it with this network and the mountain lions? Anyway, some unctuous little sweater vest-wearing toady smilingly says he'll take it from here, and introduces himself to Michael as Dr. Roger Knowlton, headshrinker to conspiracy goons worldwide. Michael says flatly, "A cigar is a cigar. Are we done?" Dr. Knowlton says, "You've been operating under some misconceptions about [the One World Conspiracy] and the General wants to open the books. I'm here to provide the facts and to help you process them." Michael says, "If by 'facts,' you mean 'what's on Scylla, and my mother worked for them,' I already know these things." Knowlton says, "Worked? Your mother works for us. Your mother is alive." Michael gapes in shock as we go to the credits. I can't say I'm much more composed. What the hell, Prison Break? Are you just raising people from the dead willy-nilly? Will we see a re-animated Whistler next?