Prison Break Transcripts

[Michael Scofield watches a tattoo artist, Sid, add the finishing touches to a section of his arm. She laughs and sits back and marvels at her masterpiece.]
Sid: Thats it. [she sighs] can I just, you know, look at it for a minute?
Michael: You're an artist, Sid.
Sid: [sighing] You're telling me you're just going to walk out of here and I'm never going to see it again?
Michael: There's a good chance of that, yes.
Sid: Most guys you know, for the first one, they start with something small. Mom, girlfriends initials something like that. Not you, you got a full set of sleeves all in a couple of months. Takes guys a few years to get the ink you got.
Michael: I don't have a few years. Wish to hell I did.
[She looks at him, curious, but takes the money he offers her.]

[Cut to a city apartment. Michael walks through the doors, passing a small origami crane perched on his desk. Every inch of wall and window space is wallpapered with papers, maps, and newspaper clippings. Some article titles read 'Lincoln Burrows' Final Appeal Denied', 'Governors Daughter Wins Humanitarians Award', and 'Life Sentence for Mob Boss Abruzzi'. Michael begins to tear these off the windows and walls, stuffing them into a trash can. He pulls the hard-drive out of his computer, and slowly walking out the door onto a balcony, he pauses, then throws it into the Chicago River below.]

[Cut to a Savings Bank in Chicago. Michael stands inside, arm raised high, firing a gun into the ceiling. Men and women lie on the floor to escape the firing. He points the gun at the cashier who lays sideways on the desk.] Michael: The vault.
Cashier: We can't, the branch manager's not here.
Michael: Where is he?
Cashier: It's lunch time, he's at Whitecastle.
Michael: Whitecastle?
Cashier: It's a fast food restaurant, they serve those little square burgers.
Michael: I know what it is. [He fires the gun twice at the ceiling again] I'm not playing games. Open it.
Cashier: Sir, you have a half a million dollars cash in your bag, don't you think it would be better if you... [she trails off at the sound of sirens outside.]

[Squad cars surround the building. A police helicopter circles the bank. Michael raises his hands, gun still in his right.]
Police Officer: This is the police. You are completely surrounded. [Michael smiles slightly and turns to face the door.] Put down your weapon. [Michael pulls another gun out of his belt loops and raises it in his other hand.] Put down your weapons now! [He drops them and raises his hands again.]

[Cut to a court room. Michael sits behind a table, his lawyer, a long time friend, Veronica Donovan, stands beside him.]
[Titles begin.]
Judge: Rarely in the case of armed robbery do we hear a plea of no contest. Are you sure about this Mr Scofield?
Michael: I'm sure Your Honor.
Veronica: Your Honor, we'd like to recess if we could, my client's a bit confused at the moment.
Michael: I'm not, Your Honor.
Veronica: He is, Your Honor.
Judge: Perhaps you should heed your representation's advice, take some additional time to consider your response.
Michael: I've already done that, Your Honor. [he looks up at Veronica, and she looks back, confused. The judge looks skeptically at the two but concedes to Michael]
Judge: I'll retire to my chambers to determine sentencing. Courts recess until one thirty.
[Michael looks across the room to a teenage boy, his nephew LJ, sitting in a row. Michael is stood up, his hands pinned behind his back.]
LJ: Uncle Mike?
Michael: I didn't want you to come. Go home LJ, I didn't want you to see this.
[A bailiff guides him down a corridor to a holding cell, Veronica in tow.]
Michael: He's not going to take this well.
Veronica: Can you blame him? He's your nephew. He's beginning to get the idea that anyone he attaches himself to is going to end up in prison. And he's not the only one who's starting to feel that way, Michael. [The bailiff locks the door of the cell behind Michael, separating him from Veronica. Veronica turns to the bailiff.] Will you give us a minute?
Bailiff: One minute.
Veronica: Don't you understand? You just put the book in that woman's hand and she's going to lob it at you like a grenade. Justice and punishment are the same thing to her.
Michael: I know.
Veronica: Then would you please tell me what's going through you head?
Michael: We've been over this.
Veronica: I've known you my entire life. You don't have a violent bone in your body. And I know you didn't need the money.
Michael: Veronica.
Veronica: Why won't you let me help you?
Michael: You've been good to me, my whole life, you have. But you gotta let me deal with this. Okay?

[Cut back to courtroom. Veronica and Michael stand before the Judge.]
Judge: Given your lack of prior criminal conduct, I'm inclined toward a probation. However the fact that you discharged a deadly weapon during the commission of the crime suggests malice to me. For that reason, I find it incumbent that you see the inside of a prison cell Mr Scofield. [Michael nods, with a slight smile.] It says here that you've requested to be incarcerated somewhere near your home here in Chicago. I'm willing to honor that. The closest level one facility to-
Veronica: [Interrupting] Level one? That's maximum security Your Honor.
Judge: I would ask Council to refrain from interrupting me. As I was saying, the closest level one facility would be Fox River State Penitentiary, as for the term of your sentence, I'm setting it at five years, you'll be eligible for parole in half that time. Sentence to be carried out immediately. [She bangs her gavel down.]

[Cut to Fox River State Penitentiary. A title states 'Fox River State Penitentiary, Joliet, Illinois.' It's an old prison. Guard towers and razor wire line the perimeter. Inside, a correctional officer barks out orders as new inmates walk through their initial process. Here, inmates shower and receive prison uniforms.]
CO: Okay people, step inside the door, check yourself for bugs, when you hear the knock, step out, keep the line moving. We don't have all day to get this done. No talking in line. Keep the line moving. Keep it moving. Next!
[Michael stands, dressed in his prison uniform. He holds a clipboard and offers it to the head CO, Captain Brad Bellick.]
Bellick: Name and back number.
Michael: Scofield, Michael. 94941.
Bellick: You a religious man, Scofield?
Michael: Never really thought about it.
Bellick: Good 'cause the ten commandments don't mean a box of piss in here. We got two commandments and two only. The first commandment is you got nothing coming.
Michael: What's the second commandment?
Bellick: See commandment number one.
Michael: [Smiling slightly. He looks around.] Gotcha.
Bellick: You talking out the side of your neck?
Michael: Come again?
Bellick: I said, are you being a smart ass?
Michael: I'm just trying to fly low, avoid the radar Boss. Do my time, and get out.
Bellick: There isn't any flying under my radar.
Michael: Good to know.
[Bellick nods his head to one side, motioning Michael to leave. As he walks off, Bellick looks down at his forms. On his medical forms, Michael has listed 'Type 1 Diabetes'. It's circled]

[Cut to cell block. Michael studies the hundreds of prisoners milling in their cells. Michael watches inmates walk across the floor below. Across from them, an inmate calls out.]
Inmate: Yo Fish. What you looking at? You look kinda pretty to be up in here, man. Fish!
[Behind Michael, on the bunk, Michael's cellmate, Fernando Sucre reads a magazine.]
Sucre: I suggest you take a seat, Fish. Aint nothing to do up in here but serve time. Aint no one gonna serve it for you.
[Below them, in the line of inmates on the floor, one suddenly gets stabbed by another inmate. He lays groaning in a pool of blood, and the other inmates loudly cheer and call out. Sucre jumps to his feet to look through the bars next to Michael.]
Sucre: [Grimly] Welcome to Prisneyland, Fish.

[Cut to Veronica's apartment. Late at night. Veronica stands by a window, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands. Her fiancee, Sebastian, comes down the stairs to talk to her.]
Sebastian: You wanna talk about it?
Veronica: Ah, it's not worth talking about.
Sebastian: If it's keeping you up, it is.
Veronica: It's just, it's nothing you know. [She sighs and pauses] Michael's case.
Sebastian: You did the best you could.
Veronica: Yeah but he didn't. He just sort of rolled over, didn't put up a fight. It's not like him. I'm- [Sebastian looks down.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about him.
Sebastian: Hey, if it's on your mind, it's on your mind, right? Goodnight. [He turns and walks back upstairs. Veronica turns back to the window.]

[Cut to the yard, Fox River the next day. Sucre and Michael head up to the yard. A sign on the fence reads 'Sit down when shots are fired.' Sucre acts as a tour guide to Michael.]
Sucre: Grey streeters got the hoops, Artenio’s got the bleachers, Wood's got the weight pile. CO's got the rest. I'm telling you, the guards are the dirtiest gang in this whole place. The only difference between us and them, is the badge. [They walk past an old man, holding a cat to his chest.]
Michael: Who's the pet lover?
Sucre: He'll deny it, but he's D.B. Cooper. Parachuted out of the plane thirty years ago with a million and a half in cash.
Michael: Doesn't look like the type.
Sucre: Who does? [He turns to another man] Hey, what up Wholesale? You okay?
Wholesale: You gonna call me greater later. Whatcha doing with this Fish, man?
Sucre: He's my new celly. [Turning to Michael] Wholesale's got a wire up in the commissary. Anything you want, he can get it for you.
Wholesale: You keep handing out my jacket, I'm gonna bust your grape.
Sucre: Man you couldn't bust a grape in Napa with a seat of cleats on. Whatcha talking about? Wholesale: Now you wanna bump your gun.
Sucre: Oh, now you're talking talking talking.
[Michael walks away a few steps and looks around the yard. He focuses on two yellow fire hydrants, and a grate expelling steam. Next to Michael's foot is another grate. He drops a magazine on it, and shoves it through the gaps. Then he turns back to Sucre and the other inmates.]
Michael: I'm looking for someone. Guy named Lincoln Burrows.
Wholesale: Linc the Sink?
Michael: [Amused] That what they're calling him now?
Wholesale: Yeah, as in he'll come at you with everything but the kitchen. Snowflake.
Michael: Where I can find him?
[Cut to a fence at the side of the yard. They see Lincoln squatting against another yard, far removed from the general population.]
Sucre: Man killed the Vice Presidents brother. In a month he's getting the chair. Which means no-one up this river is as dangerous as him. 'Cause he's got nothing to lose now. What are they gonna do, kill him twice?
Michael: There a way I can get to him?
Sucre: Ah no. The only time those boys get out is for Chapel and PI.
Michael: PI. What's that?
Sucre: Prison Industry. The guys that get along get to work. You know, painting, scrapping, making mattresses. You name it. [Michael looks across at him, interested.] I wouldn't get too excited though, if I were you, Fish. You aint sniffing none of PI.
Michael: Why's that?
Sucre: 'Cause John Abruzzi runs it.
Michael: John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi?
Sucre: [Nodding] John Abruzzi, John Abruzzi. Why do you wanna see Burrows so bad anyhow?
Michael: Because he's my brother. [He pushes away from the fence and walks away, leaving Sucre looking bewildered.]

[Cut to Michael's cell. He folds another origami crane. He flashes back to a conversation he had with Lincoln a few months ago, before he robbed the bank.]

[Flashback]
[Fox River visitation area.]
Lincoln: They denied the motion.
Michael: Then do it again.
Lincoln: I can't. That's it. May eleventh. That's the date man. That's the date they uh, you know, execute me.
Michael: [Nodding sadly.] I know. [He sighs]
Lincoln: I didn't kill that man, Michael.
Michael: The evidence says you did.
Lincoln: I don't care what the evidence says. I didn't kill him.
Michael: [Crying.] Swear to me.
Lincoln: I swear to you, Michael.
Michael: [He nods slowly and sighs] But how did they get it wrong then? The courts, the appeals?
Lincoln: I dunno, dunno. All I keep thinking, looking back on it is uh, I was set up. And whoever it was that set me up wants me in the ground as quickly as possible.
[End flashback]

[Sucre sits at the small writing desk, as Michael stands at the door, looking out.]
Sucre: What's another word for love?
Michael: What's the context?
Sucre: Oh you know, the 'I love you so much, I aint never knocking over a liquor store again' context. Except, you know; classy. [Michael laughs.]
Michael: Hmm.
Sucre: I'm proposing to my girl, if you gotta know.
Michael: In a letter?
Sucre: You got a better way?
Michael: Face to face works pretty good.
Sucre: This place aint exactly the romantic spot. [He turns] I'm gonna have her get on the State Island Ferry, then when she can see the Empire State Building, she opens the letter. [He clicks his fingers.] It's like almost being there. [He turns again, subdued.] Except for the fact that I wont be there.
Michael: Try passion.
Sucre: [Standing up to lean on the top bunk] Oh, oh, passion, passion, that's dope. Passion. [He pauses.] How do you spell that? Is it P-A-S-H? [Michael shakes his head] No H?

[Cut to an alley in the city. LJ and a friend ride their bikes toward a door. LJ dismounts and heads up the steps to the door.]
Friend: LJ. Hold up.
LJ:Hold up?
FriendI don't think I can go through with this.
LJ: Everything's gonna be fine. Trust me.
[The door buzzes open and a man pushes past them to a car. LJ and his friend follow. He lifts a mat out of the trunk of his car exposing a packet of Marijuana. He hands it to LJ who zips it into his bag.]
Man: We understand each other then?
LJ: Yeah.
Man: Friday. Not Saturday, not Sunday. Friday.
LJ: It's totally understood.
Man: I don't want hundreds, I don't want fives, I don't want ones.
LJ: I know, I know. Tens and twenties only. [He pats him on the arm and walks back to the bikes. The two ride down the alley, where a plain clothed police officer alerts others to the two.]
Officer: It's on.
[Before the boys can flee, the police close in on them.]
Officer: Police! [The two drop their bikes, ready to run the other way, but there's no escape.]

[Cut to Fox River yard. Michael walks across the yard to where John Abruzzi sits, playing cards.]
Michael: Abruzzi. I need you to hire me for PI.
Abruzzi: Beat it.
Michael: Maybe you ought to hear what I've got to say.
Abruzzi: You got nothing I need.
Michael: [Placing the origami crane he folded in his cell onto the table.] I wouldn't be too sure of that.
Abruzzi: My mistake. Just what I need. A duck.
Michael: PI Abruzzi. You might find I can be of more assistance than you think.
[Abruzzi looks up at him, and others at the table stand threateningly.]
Michael: Mull it over. Come find me when you're ready to talk. [He raises his hands in the air and walks away. Abruzzi looks at the crane again and throws it away.]

[Cut to Chiapetti Lamb and Veal meatworks. Inside, giant carcasses hang from the roof, and butchers slice off meat.]
Maggio: Alright guys, pick it up. I wanna get home tonight.
[Mobster Gavin Smallhouse enters, carrying an envelope.]
Gavin: Maggio!
[Maggio, a heavy set man in a butchers outfit, walks over to Gavin. Gavin puts some photos on the table. They're photos of an older man.]
Maggio: Yeah, so?
Gavin: That is the sonofabitch that fingered Abruzzi.
Maggio: That's Fibonacci? I thought the punk was gone forever.
Gavin: Evidently somebody found him.
Maggio: Somebody messed with us?
Gavin: This, you're not going to believe. [He offers the envelope to Maggio who opens it. He looks up at Gavin, confused.]
Maggio: What is it?

[Cut to Fox River Infirmary. Doctor Sara Tancredi sinks a hypodermic needle into Michael's arm.]
Sara: Tattoo looks fresh. Hold that. [She presses a cotton swab to where the needle entered Michael's arm.] I guess being a diabetic, you don't mind needles.
Michael: [Smiling.] I'm Michael by the way.
Sara: Scofield. I read your report.
Michael: And you are?
Sara: Doctor Tancredi will do.
Michael: Tancredi like the Governor? You're not related are you? [She doesn't look up from a paper] Hmm. Wouldn't think you'd find the daughter of Frontier Justice Frank working in a prison. As a doctor, no less. [Sara puts down the folder and looks at him.]
Sara: I believe in being part of the solution. Not the problem.
Michael: [Ignoring the insult] Mmm. Be the change you want to see in the world.[Sara looks up sharply and smiles.] What?
Sara: Nothing. That was just my senior quote.
Michael: [Flirting] That was you? This whole time, I was thinking it was Ghandi.
Sara: [Laughing] You're very funny. Sit tight, put direct pressure on that, I'll be back in a sec.
[She exits the room for a moment and Michael jumps up sneaking another origami crane into the the drainage grate in the infirmary floor. He gets back to his seat before Sara returns.]
Michael: So how do we play this? You hook me up with a few weeks supply?
Sara: [Laughing.] Nice try. No hypo's on the floor.
Michael: I'm the farthest thing from a junkie. Trust me.
Sara: I've got news for you Michael, trust me means absolutely zero inside these walls. The only way you're getting that insulin is if I'm administering it.
Michael: Guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other then.
Sara: [Packing up and smiling] I guess so! [She walks away, and Michael smiles.]
[Under the prison, an origami crane floats along in the drainage pipes.]

[Cut to Washington D.C.. A title reads 'Secret Service Headquarters Washington, D.C' Special Agent Hale enters the office of Special Agent Kellerman.]
Hale: We're all clear on the Burrows execution.
Kellerman: [Not looking up from paperwork] Good.
Hale: Except for one thing. Bishop McMorrow, is not in the fold. [Kellerman still doesn't look up.] He's got a lot of influence with the Governor. They went to prep school together apparently. [Kellerman looks up, uninterested.] Look. The closer it gets, the more I'm worried that the bottom is going to fall out of this whole thing.
Kellerman: Well maybe it's time we arranged a visit with the good Bishop then. [Hale nods. Unsure.] Look. In one month, it'll all be over.

[Cut to the Fox River Chapel. The chaplain Ben, stands at the front. Lincoln sits in the front row, looking up at him.]
Ben: The son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and the third day, rise again. And they remembered his words, and so should you. Good day gentlemen, may God be with you.
[Other inmates stand and file out of their seats. Lincoln, heavily handcuffed, stands up awkwardly and turns to leave. He turns up the aisle to see Michael.]
Lincoln: Michael? [Michael nods slightly. Lincoln walks closer to Michael.] Why?
Michael: I'm getting you out of here.
CO Paterson: Burrows! Roll it up, happy hour's over.
Lincoln: It's impossible.
Michael: [Shaking his head] Not if you designed the place it isn't. [He turns and leaves]

[Cut to Sebastian and Veronica's apartment. They flip through a book of wedding invitations.]
Veronica: Too formal. [They turn a page] Too greeting card.
Sebastian: Well we gotta make a decision sooner or later you know.
Veronica: We have time!
Sebastian: [Laughing.] We don't, actually. I mean, at some point, we've gotta pull the trigger on this thing.
Veronica: I don't wanna rush this! We're only going to do it once, we have to get it right.
[Sebastian nods and slips the folder onto a coffee table. He sighs.]
Sebastian: Honey, can I ask you something?
Veronica: Of course!
Sebastian: Are you putting this off?
Veronica: What do you mean?
Sebastian: I mean, are you having second thoughts?
Veronica: [Shaking her head] No. Honey no. I'm not.
Sebastian: I don't know, I just can't help thinking this is about-
Veronica: It's not. I love you, and I want to be your wife.
[They kiss]

[Cut to Fox River cell block, Sucre and Michael's cell. Sucre stands at the door, while Michael sits on his bunk]
Sucre: Passion? What were you thinking?
Michael: Hey, you went for it!
Sucre: She probably thinks I went sissy up in here. Passion. No. Guy more than one syllable, too much talking. That's me from now on. One syllable Sucre. Yes, no, love, hate, love.
Michael: Give it time.
Sucre: Are you kidding? I proposed to her. That doesn't take time. Si or no. One syllable man. [Michael smiles] She's supposed to come around for a conjugal on Tuesday. She's always calling me before hand, letting me know she's coming. This time man, I aint heard a peep! You spooked her!
CO Stolte: [Banging on the cell door] Scofield get it together, Pope wants to see ya. [He walks off]
Sucre: [Looking concerned] Oh, no good Fish. No-one gets an audience with the Pope, not unless he's real interested in what you got going.

[Cut to Warden Henry Pope's office, Fox River. Henry Pope sits behind a desk, Michael before him.]
Pope: Top of your class at Layola. Magna Cum Laude in fact. [He takes off his glasses] I can't help wondering what someone with your credentials is doing in a place like this.
Michael: [Shrugging.] Took a wrong turn a few months back I guess.
Pope: You make it sound like a traffic infraction. Like all you did was turn the wrong way up a one way street.
Michael: Everyone turns up one sooner or later.
Pope: [Smiling and standing up.] The reason I called you here, I noticed in your I file, under occupation, you put down unemployed. That's not true now is it? I know you're a Structural Engineer, Scofield.

[Cut to another part of his office. An uncompleted structure of a model Taj Mahal made of thin wood sits on a table. Pope and Michael stand near it.]
Pope: Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal as a monument to his undying love for his wife. My wife is quite fond of the story, it appeals to the romantic in her. Being married to someone in corrections, terrible job. Wouldn't wish it on anyone. And yet in thirty nine years, my wife has never complained. And the worse part of it is, I've never thanked her. So, because I couldn't say it, I thought, you know, I could build it. Come June, it's our fortieth anniversary. [He laughs.] But here, look. [He leans down to look closer at the structure.] The problem is, if I build any more, it's all going to come down like a house of cards. That's where I was hoping you could be of assistance. [Michael studies the inside of the Taj before looking at Pope] For the favor I can offer you three days of work a week in here, and it'll keep you off the yard. [Michael sighs and stands up.]
Michael: I can't do it.
Pope: [Taken aback slightly.] Son, it's better for me to owe you one in here than for you to owe me one, I can promise you that.
Michael: I'll take my chances.
Pope: Then we're through here. Guard!

[Cut to LJ's house. LJ sits at a table while his mother, Lisa Rix, stands over him.]
Lisa: Two pounds of pot? What were you trying to do, set a record? [LJ grins] It's not funny LJ. You could be going to jail! It's pretty obvious to me, you need some guidance. [LJ's stepfather, Adrian, enters.]
Adrian: Hey. [He picks up a plate of food and kisses Lisa before walking out again]
LJ: From who, old Daddy Warbucks?
Lisa: Give him a chance, he's a good man.
LJ: We got nothing in common.
Lisa: Oh where is this coming from LJ? Last semester you were getting almost all A's and now- [she pauses and studies LJ's face] It's your father, isn't it?
LJ: I don't have a father.
Lisa: It wasn't an immaculate conception honey, trust me. [She stands up and sighs] Maybe it's time we went and saw him.
LJ: Mom. Mom! Don't.
Lisa: I'm about as excited by the prospect as you are, but something's gotta give. You have got too much potential to be screwing up your life like this. [She turns away angrily, leaving LJ by himself. LJ looks down.]

[Cut to the Fox River visitation room. Veronica and Michael sit at a table.]
Veronica: What if they'd sent you to Tailerville or Marion and not here?
Michael: I think I'd be doing the same thing I'm doing in here. Eating Jello, drinking Kool-Aide. [He smiles.]
Veronica: I know what you're doing. It's not the luck of the draw that you're in here with Lincoln. [Michael taps at the table with his knuckles.] You forget I know you. Both of you. You two have the most dysfunctional idea of love I've ever seen. What, he beats you up to keep you off the streets, so you get yourself tossed into Fox River with him? To what. Save him? I deserve to know. I loved him as much as you did.
Michael: Past tense for you maybe, not me.
Veronica: [She shakes her head] I gave him a shot when I got back from college, I did. Even with all the stuff that was going on with him, I did everything I could to make it work and he threw it away.
Michael: Do you ever think maybe he was hurt that you left in the first place?
Veronica: [Shaking her head.] Don't do this. Whatever it is you're doing, don't do it. There's a better way. I'm already appealing your case.
Michael: I told you to leave that alone.
Veronica: I've gotten in touch with the Diocese about Lincoln. The bishop may be able to he-
Michael: That won't stop it, it'll only delay it. [He looks around.] You want to do something? You find out who's trying to bury him.
Veronica: [Looking confused.] Nobody's trying to bury him. The evidence was there.
Michael: The evidence was cooked.
[Veronica looks shocked. A CO's voice calls out]
CO: Visiting hours are now over.
[A bell rings. They stand and hug]
Veronica: Take care of yourself.
Michael: Someone wants him dead Veronica, something more is going on here.
Veronica: [She pulls away] This is desperation Michael, you're grabbing at straws, you're in denial.
Michael: Maybe, but I can't watch him die. I wont do that.
[Veronica walks away, leaving Michael standing in the middle of the room.]

[Cut to Lincoln in a corridor. He watches through a window as Veronica signs out of the visitation area. She doesn't turn around so doesn't see him. Lincoln walks off.]

[Cut to the bishop's house. A title reads 'Bishop McMorrow Residence, Evanston, Illinois'. Kellerman and Hale knock on the door.]
McMorrow: Gentlemen?
[Cut to the inside of his house. In a study, he sits behind a desk while Hale and Kellerman sit on the other side.]
McMorrow: What is it about the Burrows situation that I can help you with?
Kellerman: It's our understanding that you have great influence with the Governor.
McMorrow: [Laughing slightly] I wouldn't say it's great, or influence. We're friends.
Kellerman: It's also our understanding that you oppose the death penalty.
McMorrow: I'm a man of God, how could I not?
Kellerman: In this case, we're hoping to suspend that position. At least temporarily.
McMorrow: [Looking confused] If the inmate appeals to me for intervention, how can I turn my back on him?
Kellerman: You have a habit of answering a question with a question.
McMorrow: And you have a way of asking questions that beg more questions.
Kellerman: [Laughing softly and pausing.] Are you saying you wont do it?
McMorrow: I'm not a man to equivocate.
Kellerman: [Both agents nod. Kellerman looks to Hale.] You're what, sixty two years old now, Your Excellency.
McMorrow: [Looking suspicious.] That's right.
Kellerman: I'd assume then that you'd be well versed in how our governments tax system works. Taking personal capital gains under the churches tax shelter, that'd be fraud wouldn't it Your Excellency?
McMorrow: I will not be cowered into forsaking my beliefs. Not by you or anyone else.
Kellerman: Admirable. Good day Excellency. [They all stand and the agents turn to leave.]
McMorrow: Mr Kellerman! [They turn around to look at him.] What is it about this case that the Secret Service is so interested in?
Kellerman: The man killed the Vice Presidents brother. [He nods at the bishop and leaves.]

[Cut to Fox River yard. Abruzzi leans against a pay phone. On the other end, is Maggio.]
Abruzzi: What did you say?
Maggio: You heard me. Someone found Fibonacci. I'm looking at the photo's right now. Some bitch has got a beard, sunglasses, witness protection files and stuff.
Abruzzi: Who was this someone?
Maggio: Dunno. There was no return address on the envelope. Just [he sighs] this folded up bird, made of paper.
Abruzzi: [Pausing in realization] Like origami?
Maggio: Yeah, like that! Like origami!
[Abruzzi hangs up on him and turns and walks off.]

[Cut to Michael by the other side of the yard. He looks around him, then down at a grate. His magazine and the crane from the infirmary rest together in the drain. He turns around to see the man known as D.B. Cooper looking at him. Michael walks over to him and sits down.]
Michael: You're Charles Westmoreland, right?
Westmoreland: Do I know you?
Michael: Knew your wife, before she passed.
Westmoreland: You knew Marla?
Michael: You mean Anne?
Westmoreland: How did you know her?
Michael: We taught together. In Boston.
Westmoreland: East Farmington.
Michael: You mean West Wilmington?
Westmoreland: [He puts down his magazine.] No more tests. I promise. Seems you know everything about me. [He strokes his cat.] Who are you?
Michael: Michael Scofield. [He pauses for a second.] How'd you get it in here? [He gestures to the cat in Westmoreland's arms.]
Westmoreland: [His tone darkens.] First off, she's not an it, she's Marilyn. And she's grandfathered. Back from the days when prisoners were allowed a creature comfort or two.
Michael: Heard you were D.B. Cooper.
Westmoreland: [Smiling.] Every knew Fish comes in here, first thing they hear is that Charles Westmoreland's D.B. Cooper. I'll tell you like I tell them. You want the Cooper story? I can't give it to you. [He mock whispers.] Because I'm not him.
Michael: It's too bad. Kinda wish it was true. [He nods] Man's a legend.
Westmoreland: No where near as much as I wish it were true,friend. I'd have a million five waiting for me on the outside. [He notices Abruzzi along with his group approaching.] Put some grass under him if I were you. [He stands up and leaves.]
Michael: This whole thing will go a whole lot easier if you just hire me.
Abruzzi: What is this all about?
Michael: Say you were able to get outside those walls. Would you have the people in place to make sure you disappeared forever?
Abruzzi: What do you care?
Michael: Just curious.
Abruzzi: Where's Fibonacci?
Michael: That's not the way it works. [Abruzzi considers him, then walks away, his group still looking at Michael. Michael stands and walks toward him.] They come at me John, I'm coming after you.
Abruzzi: [Turning.] I doubt it.
[Abruzzi's group punch Michael and Michael strikes up and hits Abruzzi square in the face. One of the group unleashes a sock filled with batteries, and he's thrown onto a bleacher while beaten and kicked. A guard in a tower notices the ruckus and fires shots to the ground. The inmates cease fighting and lie on the ground.]
Abruzzi: [Quietly.] Alright. [He looks around, and is forced to the ground by another CO. Michael coughs and groans with pain.]

[Cut to Pope's office, night. Michael stands behind his desk as Pope angrily talks to him.]
Pope: I totally misjudged you, Scofield. I didn't think you were the agitating type. Behavior like that will not be tolerated in my prison. Ninety days in the SHU. That ought to be enough time to convince you of that fact.
Michael: Ninety days.
Pope: [Flatly.] That's right. [Michael is silent. He looks down at Pope's desk calendar that states that it's the 11th of April.] Something you want to say?
Michael: [Quietly] It's just, I'm not of much value to you in the SHU.
Pope: Value?
Michael: Mmm. The Taj. It would be a shame for the eighth wonder of the modern world to collapse because the stress is not properly propagated.
Pope: Properly propagated?
Michael: [Nodding.] Properly propagated. The joints are overloaded. They wont provide anywhere near the sheer strength the completed structure will need.
Pope: [Walking around his desk to face Michael] How much work are we talking about?
Michael: You want it by when, June?
Pope: Yes.
Michael: Then we'd better get started. Wouldn't you say?

[Cut to Bishop McMorrow's house, same night. The bishop is fast asleep in his massive bed. A shadow moves across a wall. A floorboard creaks. The bishop wakes.]
McMorrow: Who's there? [He sits up in bed, confused. A gun with a silencer attachment fires once.]

[Cut to Veronica's office. Her assistant knocks and enters.]
Assistant: Bishop McMorrow was killed last night. Someone shot him while he was sleeping. I thought you'd want to know.
Veronica: [Considering this.] Thanks. [Her assistant leaves. Veronica sinks back in her chair and looks over at her wall calendar. May eleven is circled in red. Lincoln's execution date.] Michael was right. [She looks around and goes to her filing cabinet to pull out a file that reads 'Deposition. Burrows, Lincoln vs the State of Illinois']

[Cut to Fox River, death row. CO Paterson bangs on his door.]
Paterson: Sink! You got a visitor!
[Cut to the visitation room. Heavily shackled, Lincoln is lead into a metal cage with plexiglas to see his visitor through. Lisa and LJ wait on the other side.]
Lisa: He was arrested.
Lincoln: For what?
Lisa: Possession of Marijuana. [She looks at LJ and sighs] I figured he could use some Fatherly advice before it's... [She stops suddenly.]
Lincoln: Gone forever?
Lisa: I didn't mean that.
Lincoln: I know you didn't. Thanks Lisa. [Lisa nods shortly and turns on her heel. Lincoln turns to LJ.] Sit down. [Lincoln and LJ sit down.] Dope huh? Using or dealing?
LJ: [He laughs.] What's the difference?
Lincoln: Then what, you think it gives you some kind of street cred? [LJ doesn't reply.] You got a piece of the good life. Take its advantage.
LJ: [Shaking his head] Look, I get it. The whole thing. She drags me in here, you give me a big speech, I walk away a changed man, straight A's, Harvard, grow up and be a dentist.
Lincoln: It's better than being in here. [He pauses.] You gotta realize who's getting punished when you're doing the things you're doing. You think it's me, it's you. I did the same thing, punish the old man because he was gone. Look where it got me. [LJ doesn't say anything. Lincoln shakes his head] I'm not asking you to love me. I already screwed up that chance long ago. I'm asking you to love yourself. You can still put the brakes on this thing.
LJ: [Looking unconvinced.] So that's what fatherly advice is like. [He gets up.]
Lincoln: Where are you going?
LJ: I got homework.
Lincoln: They're putting me to death LJ. In a months time, I'll be dead. You get that?
LJ: You're already dead to me. [He walks away. Lincoln watches him leave.]

[Cut to a conjugal room. Sucre fidgets and paces to look at the clock.]
Sucre: Oh no.
[He rubs his head angrily and turns to head to the door. A guard opens the door and his girlfriend Maricruz enters, holding flowers.]
Maricruz: Yes. [Sucre's eyes widen.]
Sucre: Wh-What. You mean yes, yes?
Maricruz: Yes, yes! [They both laugh and Maricruz races at him to kiss him. Breathless, she pulls away quickly.] There's just one thing.
Sucre: Of course. [They kiss again.]
Maricruz: Mama wants us to wait until you get out.
Sucre: Of course, of course. [He kisses her again but she pushes him away.]
Maricruz: And we have to get married in a church.
Sucre: Okay.
Maricruz: A Catholic church.
Sucre: [Pulling off Maricruz's jacket.] Wouldn't want to mess with the Catholic roots, would we? [Maricruz is only wearing a bra underneath the jacket and they roll onto the bed.]

[Cut to the infirmary. Sara turns from the window to face Michael.]
Sara: You went to Layola!
Michael: You've been checking up on me.
Sara: I like to get to know my patients. I went to North Western, graduated two years after you did.
Michael: Maybe we met before. You know, drunk, out at a bar somewhere.
Sara: I would have remembered.
Michael: That a compliment?
Sara: No. [He nods, accepting it.] Hm.
Michael: What?
Sara: Your blood glucose is fifty milligrams per deciliter.
Michael: So?
Sara: It's hypoglycemic. Your body is reacting to the insulin like you're not a diabetic. You sure it's type one diabetes you've got?
Michael: [He nods] Ever since I was a kid.
Sara: Alright. Not experiencing any tingling sensation, cold sweats- [The phone rings and she turns away to answer it. Michael stands up and walks over to the window.] Infirmary. Yeah, yup, I did. No, I definitely do. Okay, um, great, well I'll call him after lunch then. Thanks, I'm with a patient. Okay. [Michael looks at his hand. It's shaking. He rubs at his hand She hangs up] I'd like to run some tests next time you're in. Last thing I want is to be administering insulin to a man that doesn't need it.
Michael: [Nodding.] Yeah, sure!
Sara: [Smiling] Okay. [She turns and walks out.]

[Cut to the conjugal room. Sucre and Maricruz put on their clothes.]
Sucre: How'd you get here by the way?
Maricruz: [sighing] Oh you know.
Sucre: I don't. That's why I asked.
Maricruz: You know. Hector.
Sucre: [Alarmed.] What?
Maricruz: I didn't have any money for the bus so he offered me a ride. It was really sweet. [Sucre stands up, angrily.] Honey. He's just a friend.
Sucre: No he's not just a friend. I know Hector. I know men. Men and Women can't be friends. A guy doesn't drive a girl five hundred miles across state lines because he wants to be friends.
[A CO bangs on the door. Maricruz slips her jacket back on.]
CO: Session over, wrap it up.
Maricruz: Hey. You got nothing to worry about, okay? [She places her hand on his chin] It's you I'm marrying.
Sucre: It's not you I'm worried about. [They kiss.]
Maricruz: Sixteen more months. [She kisses him again and walks toward the door. She turns around and waves and blows a kiss.] I love you.

[Cut to the yard. C-Note, the 'local pharmacy' talks to another inmate.]
C-Note: Take it easy, son. Aight? [He scans the yard as the other inmate walks off. Michael approaches.]
Michael: Sucre tells me you're the local pharmacy.
C-Note: [He looks over to Sucre who nods.] What you need, man?
Michael: PUGNAC.
C-Note: I only speak English, white boy.
Michael: It's an insulin blocker, standard over the counter variety, you can get at any pharmacy.
C-Note: You can get it at Medical then.
Michael: I can't get it at medical.
C-Note: Why not?
Michael: [Laughing, amused.] Because they're already giving me insulin shots.
C-Note: [Also laughs.] You one mixed up cracker, you know that?
Michael: [Smiling] Can you get it for me or not?
C-Note: Only if you tell me why is it you want to keep going back up to medical to get an insulin shot for which you don't need.
Michael: I like the ambience.
C-Note: Uhhuh.
Michael: Are we in business? [He holds out a note. C-Note takes it without looking down and walks away. Michael walks off.]

[Cut to Michael's cell. Michael leans against the wall on his bunk. CO Stolte raps a card on the cell door.]
Stolte: Scofield. I don't know what you did, but Abruzzi wanted me to give you this PI card. [Michael stands up and walks over to him, taking the card.] Congratulations, you just joined the ranks of the employed. [Michael studies the card as Stolte walks off. He smiles.]

[Cut to Lincoln and Michael working on PI. They paint hallways, glancing at each other. Abruzzi walks up behind Michael.]
Abruzzi: Kudos, Fish. You got spine. [He walks off.]
CO: [Calling out.] Alright cons, break it down.
Abruzzi: Move it, guys.
[Michael walks off. Lincoln picks up a bucket and follows. A CO steps through a door and the PI team follow, before putting their tools on the counter.]
Lincoln: Saw Veronica came by yesterday. Still engaged to that guy?
Michael: Yep.
Lincoln: Could have been me.
Michael: If you hadn't self-destructed.
Lincoln: You think I meant to knock up Lisa Rix? I was just being stupid with her. Shouldn't have pushed her away though.
Michael: You pushed everyone away.
Lincoln: I'm an anchor. All I'll do is drag them down with me. [He walks away to locker areas and Michael follows. Abruzzi talks to another inmate.]
Inmate: Why'd you hire him?
Abruzzi: Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.

[Lincoln sits beside Michael on a bench in the locker area.]
Lincoln: Did you mean what you said earlier?
Michael: I'm not here on vacation. Trust me.
Lincoln: Getting outside these walls is just the beginning. You're gonna need money.
Michael: [Looking over at Westmoreland] I'll have it.
Lincoln: And people on the outside. People that can help you disappear.
Michael: I've already got them. [He looks over at Abruzzi] They just don't know it yet.
Lincoln: [Looking confused.] Look. Whatever you got going on, fill me in, 'cause I'm in the dark here.
Michael: [Smiling.] Schapelle Associates got the contract to retrofit this place in ninety-nine, four million dollar contract, head partner couldn't crack it. So he subcontracted out. An under the table sorta deal with a former associate. That guy was one of the partners in my firm. Who basically goes through the whole plan, crossed the t's dotted the i's, grouted the tiles. [He stands up.]
Lincoln: [Realizing.] You've seen the blueprints.
Michael: Better than that. [He pulls off his shirt, exposing the tattoo underneath.] I've got them on me. [Lincoln sits back, trying to understand.]
Lincoln: Are you kidding me? [Michael smiles.] Am I supposed to be seeing something here?
Michael: Look closer.
[Lines appear on Michael's body, outlined to show certain blueprints of the prison. He turns around and again, the same thing happens with his back. The camera zooms in and shows the walls, and physical aspects depicted in the tattoo. This finally emerges out of the yard through the grate with the crane and the magazine in it.]

[End]