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TRANSCRIPT:
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COLD OPEN:

[EXT. FOX RIVER STATE PENITENTIARY-DAY]

CUT TO:

[EXT. PRISOIN YARD-DAY]

(Michael and Charles West Moreland are playing checkers.)

Moreland: You’re anticipating every one of my moves three moves in advance. You’re a helluva strategist fish.

Michael: You ever think about Boston?

Moreland: Sure.

Michael: Think you’ll ever see it again.

Moreland: I’m a sixty year old man with sixty years still left on my ticket. What do you think?

Michael: I’m thinking of going.

Moreland: Well there’s going and then there’s going. Which one do you mean?

Michael: The one you think I mean.

Moreland: (Amused, pets his cat) Three days inside and he’s already thinking about turning rabbit. It’ll pass, it always does. You got bigger things to worry about at the moment. I’ve been in here long enough to know it when I see it. The calm before the storm. Whites and black’s will be going at each other real soon here. Everybody chooses sides. And a lot of guys bleed.

(Throughout this they watch a squirmish occur between some racially separate inmates.)

Michael: Is there a reason.

Moreland: Same reason you don’t put cats and dogs in the same cage. They don’t get along.

CUT TO:

[INT. MICHAEL’S CELL-DAY]

(Michael takes a mirror shard and reflects it on the inner side of his forearm, revealing “1112 1147 ALLEN SCHWEITZER.” Sucre sings a Spanish song quietly under his breath. Michael writes the name down on a pad of paper.)

Sucre: Hmm.

Michael: What?

Sucre: Toilet won’t flush.

Michael: So…?

Sucre: Mean only one thing fish. (He runs to the cell door) They shut down the water so we can’t flush our contraband.

Michael: Well, we got nothin to worry about.

Sucre: (Holds up a baggie) Says you. (He goes to the door. Michael follows him) Under the table.

Michael: (Goes to the table, feels around a find a shank) What the hell’s this?

Sucre: It’s insurance white boy.

(Michael turns to see Bellick standing right outside his cell door.)

Bellick: Open it. So tooling up for the race riot are we? Hand it over. (Michael hands him the knife, handle first and Bellick checks it out.) Rughead’s or the blackies. Which side are you on anyhow fish?

Michael: Neither boss.

Bellick: Maybe you gonna go extra curricular and (Motions to himself) stick a CO with it.

Pope: (Walks up) Is there a problem deputy?
 
Bellick: Found a shank in here. (Hands it over)

Pope: (Gestures to Michael) This yours?

(Michael doesn’t respond, only stares. Warden Pope looks back and forth between Michael and Sucre, then decides.)

You’re not a good liar. Come on Sucre, you’re going to the shoe.

(Sucre shuffles out.)

Move along now deputy.

Bellick: I’m not done shakin his cell down yet.

Pope: I said, move along.

Bellick: You’re in the old man’s back pocket are you. Well I got news for you, he may run this place during the day, but I run it during the night.

(He leaves and the cell door shuts, but that doesn’t end the stare down.)

OPENING CREDITS

OPEN TO:

[EXT. PAN SHOT OF PRISON YARD-DAY]

CUT TO:

[INT. CHAPEL-DAY]

Lincoln: (To Michael, who is sitting one pew behind him) What the heel were you thinking Michael?...How are we doing?

Michael: The infirmary.

Lincoln: The infirmary?

Michael: (Leaning forward) It’s the weakest link in the security chain. As long as I get that Pugnac, I’ll get all the access I need.

Lincoln: What the hell’s a Pugnac?

Michael: It lowers my insulin to the point where I’m hypoglycemic and as long as the good doctor thinks I’m diabetic I’ll have plenty of time in there to do what I need to do.

Lincoln: Which is?

Michael: A little work. A little preparation for your arrival. That’s the idea anyway.

Lincoln: The idea?

Michael: There’s a little hitch in getting the Pugnac that’s all. They don’t exactly stock it at the commissary.

Lincoln: You telling me this whole things riding on a bunch of pills.

Michael: Someone’s working on it as we speak. (He looks at C-Note)

(Lincoln looks back at him then to where Michael is looking)

Lincoln: Now’s not the time to be trusting a black inmate Michael.

Michael: (Confidently Our relationship transcends race.

Lincoln: Nothing transcends race. I can’t let you do it. Good behavior, you’re out in three years.

Michael: I’m going to be a whole lot sooner than that.

Lincoln: It can’t be done. (He stops talking as an inmate walks by) It can’t be done Michael. No ones ever broken out of Fox River.

Michael: (Leans forward again) Every single step has already been mapped out. Every contingency.

Lincoln: Every contingency? You may have the blueprints to this place but there’s one thing those plans can’t show you. People, guys like Abruzzi. You so much as look at them the wrong way, they’ll cut you up.

Michael: (Looks at Abruzzi) Far as the rest of these guys are concerned, I’m just a con doin his time. Stayin outta trouble.

Lincoln: You don’t gotta go looking for trouble in here. It just finds you.

Michael: And when it does, we’ll be long gone.

Lincoln: (Turns back) This is madness. You can’t even get out of your cell.

Michael: Not true.

Lincoln: You gotta key?

(C-Note watches the pair, intrigued.)

Michael: Something like that.

CUT TO:

[EXT. PRISON YARD ENTRANCE-DAY]

(Prisoners are shuffling in lines of two by two. Michael steps inside the yard, looks around and heads for the deserted bleachers. He runs his fingers along the woodwork edging, fingering certain screw heads until he feels the right one. Camera goes into the wood to show a number along the base of the screw. “1112 1147.”)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[FLASHBACK-INT. MICHAEL’S APARTMENT-NIGHT]

(Michael looks at different types of screws. Writes in red, the number of the one that he needs to look for.)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[PRESENT DAY-EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

(Michael climbs up onto the bleachers, has a look around and takes a seat. He begins to work the screw with a nickel. It slowly begins to move.)

Inmate: Wrong piece of real estate fish.

Michael: Who?

Inmate: You best speak with respect fish. Man kidnapped half a dozen boys and girls down in ‘bama, raped and killed ‘em. Wasn’t always in that order either.

Michael: Does this T-Bag have a name?

T-Bag: That is my real name.

(Slimy man walks up with a possy and one man who holds his outturned pocket. Michael stands.)

No, no, no please (Gesturing) sit. So you’re the one I’ve been hearing all the rave reviews about. (Whispers) Scofield! One things for sure, you just as pretty as advertised. Prettier even. (Michael smiles, unsure and T-Bag gives a creepy laugh.) Rugheads got you scared do they?

Michael: Excuse me?

T-Bag: I assume that’s why you’re over here. Few days on the inside and any God fearin white man would realize the correctional systems got a serious lean towards the African American persuasion.

Michael: I haven’t noticed. (Continues to work on the screw)

T-Bag: They got the numbers alright. So they think they can do as they please. We got one thing they don’t. (Whispers) Surprise! We gonna take them real soon. It’s gonna be nasty for a first timer like you (Quickly) but we’ll protect you. I’ll protect you. All you gotta do is take this (Slaps the Maytag’s hand off) pocket right here and your life’ll be peaches and cream. (Maytag reclaims the pocket) I walk, u walk with me. Keep real close so no one up in here can hurt you.

Michael: (Feigning confusion) Looks to me like you already got a girlfriend.

T-Bag: (Slaps Maytag’s hand away again and stands up) I got a whole other pocket over here. (Pulls the pocket out)

Michael: I’ll pass. (Continues to work on the screw)

T-Bag: (Teasingly) I don’t protect you them Rugheads gonna gobble you up like a plate of black eyed peas.

Michael: (Cutting him off) I said no.

T-Bag: (No more fun) You best move then, now!

(Michael calmly gets up and slowly walks off the bleachers)

You come around these bleachers again; it’s gonna be more than just words we’re exchanging. Know what I’m sayin?

(Shot goes down to the partially visible screw)

CUT TO:

[INT. COURTHOUSE-DAY]

(Veronica walks up to a big black man)

Veronica: Are you Tim Giles who represented Lincoln Burrows?

Tim: Look if you’re a reporter-

Veronica: I’m not a reporter. (They start to walk) I know the defendant personally.

Tim: Huh. You family?

Veronica: Not exactly. We were in a relationship a few years back. (They stop walking)

Tim: (Struggles for the words) Yeah, well uh look, Mam. I don’t know what to tell you. The man was guilty. The prosecutions case was a slam dunk.

Veronica: Because the man was the Vice Presidents brother.
(They start walking again)

Tim: Look it you are suggesting that the federal government ran this thing through, I take offense to that. I fought for that guy.

Veronica: That’s not what I meant.

(They stop again)

Tim: The evidence was there. Lincoln worked for Steadman’s Company. He gets into a public altercation with the guy, he gets fired. Two weeks later Steadman’s shot dead, the murder weapon found in Lincoln’s house and the victim’s blood found on his clothes. Trust me, there are cases you lose sleep over and this ain’t one of them.

(He starts to walk again and Veronica hurries to catch up)

Veronica: What about Crab Simmons? Lincoln said he could exonerate him. Why didn’t you put him on the stand?

Tim: The man’s a five time felon. He had no credibility.

Veronica: So you wouldn’t mind if I paid him a visit?

Tim: Be my guest. But I don’t think it’ll do you any good. (He walks off)

CUT TO:

[INT. LINCOLN’S CELL ON DEATH ROW-DAY]

(Lincoln sits in the corner, then moves into the light)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[FLASHBACK-INT. LINCOLN’S BEDROOM-DAY]

(Lincoln is sitting up in his bed)

Lincoln: I have a strange feelin. Don’t know how to explain it. (He leans down to the girl that he’s talking to) You know, uh, my whole life. It’s usually been crazy, noisy, maddening, you know, in my head. But now, it’s quiet. (He kisses her shoulder) It’s perfect. Why’d you come down?

Veronica: (Turns to face him) I thought about you the whole time.

Lincoln: (Softly) You know…I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I know that. But I’m gonna make it right.

Veronica: (Confidently) I know you will.

(They kiss. Then Lincoln breaks it and reaches for something on the nightstand)

What are you doing?

Lincoln: I wanna remember this.

(Gets a camera, she giggles in protest , shoving a pillow onto her face)

Come on, come on V please!! (She relents, kissing him. The camera flashes)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[PRESENT DAY-INT. LINCOLN’S CELL-DAY]

(Lincoln stares at the wall, remembering)

CUT TO:

[EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

(Michael walks with C-Note and his homies. The two veer of so that they are walking alone)

Michael: How we doing on the Pugnac?

C-Note: Hey, I’m workin on it.

Michael: Well, work faster. I need that stuff tonight.

(C-Note stops him)

C-Note: What’s up there in that infirmary that you need so bad?

Michael: Get me that Pugnac and maybe I’ll tell you.

(He walks away and goes over to the bleachers. T-Bag and his boys walk up just as Michael gets the screw out)

T-Bag: Uhuhuhu. I thought we had an understanding. This here’s for the family and you made it pretty clear that you ain’t blood.

(Shot goes down to the screw that Michael is gripping tightly in his hand)

Why don’t you hand that over?

(Michael looks at him deciding the smartest course of action. He jumps off the bleachers and hands it over)

Nice piece of steel. Bit of work you could do some serious damage with it. Question is who he was planning on damaging? I’ve seen you with them Negroes you know. Well. Maybe you one of them milk chickens. (Gestures to his head) All confused. Like white on the outside, black as tar on the inside. Maybe we oughta take a look and find out.

CO: Is there a problem over there?

(T-Bag reaches his arms up, feigning a yawn and discreetly hands the bolt off to Maytag)

T-Bag: Think we’ll just hold onto this, if that’s alright with you?

CO: Hey! I’m not going to ask you again. Let’s break up this party ladies!

T-Bag: You heard the man little doggie, get along.

(Michael, not wanting to leave without the screw, is reluctant. But he slowly walks away anyway)

CUT TO:

[INT. MICHAEL’S CELL-DAY]

(Bellick cautiously enters and looks under both mattress’, finds nothing. So he goes to the desk and lifts things up and shakes them around. Squatting down, he notices indentation markings on a small notepad. Quickly, he takes out a pencil and shades over it until a name appears “ALLEN SCHWEITZER”. He gets up and looks at it. Commercial Set.)

OPEN TO:

[EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

(Shot pans over the yard and then down to Michael who walks along the chain link fence and leans against it, watching Abruzzi across the yard. He does not want to do this.)

Michael: (Walking to Abruzzi’s side) What’s it take to shake down another inmate, get something he’s taken from you?

Abruzzi: It would take Fibonacci.

Michael: Oh I’ll give you Fibonacci. I promise you that.  (He glances away) When the time is right.

Abruzzi: The time is right now.

Michael: The time is when you and I are standing outside those walls. You’re sitting on life without parole. Your never going to step foot outside those walls again, not unless you knew someone. Someone who knew a way out. What do you say John?

Abruzzi: I say I’ve heard nothing but blabber. (He walks away and Michael shows a glimpse of frustration)

CUT TO:

[INT. OPEN VISITING AREA-DAY]

Abruzzi: (Walking up to the small round table) Phil Falzone. It’s an honor. What are you doing here?

Falzone: Well I um…Just thought we’d you know fraternize.  

Smallhouse: He looks like it doesn’t he?

Abruzzi: Looks what. (He sits down warily)

Smallhouse: Like everybody’s been sayin. You got no sac. You’ve been neutered.

Abruzzi: (Gives an incredulous laugh) You shouldn’t talk to me like that. You used to pick up my laundry.

Smallhouse: Not anymore John.

Falzone: Word is there’s somebody in here who knows where Fibonacci is and you’re not doing anything about it.

Abruzzi: I’m workin on it.

Falzone: Well you’re not working on it fast enough. Apparently Fibonacci’s coming up for air again. Next month a congressional hearing. Now if he testifies at that hearing, a lot of people are going down; including me. Now I’ve known you a long time. Our wives are friends; our kids go to the same Catholic school. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to your kids. (Abruzzi looks extremely anxious) I know my kids would miss them.

Abruzzi: You don’t need to do this.

Falzone: I do.

Abruzzi: I’ll get this guy. We’ll get Fibonacci.

Falzone: For everyone’s sake I hope you do.

Abruzzi: I am.

Falzone: Be well John.

Abruzzi: Thank you.

CUT TO:

[INT. SUCRE’S SHOE CELL-DAY]

(Sucre is pacing up and down the cell floor)

Sucre: Yo, Badge. I gotta use the phone.

CO: (Sarcastically) Suc, you want a pizza and a pedicure too?

Sucre: It’s Monday, man. I gotta call my girl, she’s expecting my call.

CO: Put a sock in it. You got nothin comin. (Slams the cell window shut)

CUT TO:

[INT. ADMINISTRATIVE WING-DAY]

Bellick: Hey, pull up the prisoner manifest. Is there an ALLEN SCHWEITZER in gen pop?

Clerk: (Types) No

Bellick: How bout the shoe?

Clerk: No, why you askin?

Bellick: Curious, that’s all.

CUT TO:

[INT. CHAPEL-DAY]

(Black and white inmates sit separately. A black inmate sees a white one slide a sharp piece of glass across the pew bench. The transfers of weapon items are being passed along by all races.)

CUT TO:
[EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

(Prisoners are walking outside for their rec time.)

Black Inmate: You hear the trumpets fish. I know you hear ‘em. That’s judgment day. It’s comin. Real soon.

CUT TO:

[INT. CELL BLOCK-FREETIME-DAY]

(Michael enters T-Bag’s cell and starts looking everywhere for the screw. T-Bag walks in.)

T-Bag: What you doin in my cell?

(Michael walks up to him, his face a mask.)

Michael: I want in.

(C-Note has been doing sit ups, but stops to watch this exchange.)

T-Bag (V.O.): I’m not quite sure I heard that fish. Did you just say you’re in?

(He half circles around him, talking into his ear.)

Michael (V.O.): That’s right.

T-Bag: You know the old sayin don’t you. You’re in for an inch, you’re in for a mile.

Michael: Whatever it takes. You want me to fight, I’ll fight. That bolt from the bleacher’s, that’s what it was for.

T-Bag: (Goes to lean on the bars) You wanna fight, you gonna get your chance, next count.

Michael: Tonight?

T-Bag: You gotta problem with that? Cause we’re goin straight at ‘em. Better catch a square fish, we on demand in a big way.

Michael: All I need’s a weapon.

Maytag: You wanna a weapon bitch? (Waves the bolt in front of his face, replaces it with a popsicle stick, putting it in his front pocket.) Here you go.

CO: All prisoners return to your cells.

(Michael moves to exit, but T-Bag blocks the door with his arm.)

T-Bag: You’re gonna have to prove yourself before we trust you with the heavy artillery. You know what I’m sayin?

CO: Gates closing. (Michael leaves)

CUT TO:

[INT. VERONICA’S OFFICE-DAY]

(Tim knocks on the door)

Tim: I wanted to apologize for being short with you before.

Veronica: No problem.

Tim: It’s just, the closer he gets to an execution, the harder it becomes. So that’s why I wanted to give you this.

(Holds out a manila envelope, which she takes.)

It’s the surveillance tape of the garage that night. It was a closed trial so nobody else saw it. I thought it might help. (He turns to leave)

Veronica: Help with what?

Tim: Closure.

(Veronica takes out the tape and plays it. The tape shows a car pulling into a parking lot square and moment’s later Lincoln steps into view where he walks rapidly to the driver’s side window and fires a single shot. Then he rushes to the passenger’s side and grabs something out of it and leaves.)

CUT TO:

[EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

 (Michael leans by himself up against the chain linked fence. Bellick comes up behind him on the other side of the fence.)

Bellick: “ALLEN SCHWEITZER”. That name mean anything to you?

Michael: (His eyes betray him, but he’s not facing Bellick) Should it?

Bellick: I don’t know, you tell me.

Michael: Never heard of the guy.

Bellick: You sure?

Michael: Positive.

(Bellick walks off, at which point Michael shoots a worried glance in his direction, knowing that Bellick had been in his cell.)

CUT TO:

[INT. PRISON SHOWERS-DAY]

(Michael is dressing. C-Note comes up and taps him on the shoulder showing him a bottle of pills: the Pugnac. He walks off, Michael follows, shooting a fleeting look at the distracted guards.

C-Note: Cha, what’s up snowflake? (Moves in to embrace him, but shoulder punches him to the wall instead. His men materialize to hold Michael there. Michael struggles, scared.)

C-Note: You think I’m a fool?

Michael: What are you talking about?

C-Note: I see you out there with the arryies. You know, I gotta good mind to slash you open right now.

Michael: It’s not what you think. He’s got something I need.

C-Note: Now see that’s funny, cause I got something you need too. (Shakes the bottle in his face) You want Pugnac fish? (He uncaps the bottle and pours the pills into his hand) Right here baby. (C-Note throws the empty bottle onto the floor) Look white boy, your luck just ran out. You chose the wrong side.

(Michael gets a slap on the cheek from one of C-Notes home boys as they leave. Michael looks at the pill bottle, and then turns around, pissed off. Unable to control it, he punches the bars. This leads into a Commercial Set.)

COLD OPEN TO:

[INT. CLOSED VISITING AREA-DAY]

(Lincoln is escorted in to see, to his surprise, Veronica sitting there.)

Lincoln: It’s great to see your face. (Veronica looks away, disgusted. Lincoln leans back, slightly uneasy)

Veronica: I think it’s time you quit this charade, don’t you?

Lincoln: What?

Veronica: It’s starting to ruin people’s lives. (Lincoln is confused) Michael is in here because he thinks you’re innocent.

Lincoln: He told you.

Veronica: He hasn’t told me anything, but I know Lincoln. I know what he’s planning and if you love him, call him off. (Lincoln looks hurt) I saw the tape.

Lincoln: What’s on the tape is not how it went down.

Veronica; I know what I saw.

Lincoln: I know what I saw! (Tears are in his eyes) I was there, remember? (Looks away)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[FLASHBACK-INT. PARKING GARAGE-NIGHT]

I got high that night. It was the only way I could go through with it.

(Throughout these lines, a replay of the tape is going from Lincoln’s perspective.)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[PRESENT DAY-INT. CLOSED VISITING AREA-DAY]

I never pulled the trigger, the guy was already dead.

Veronica: (Flippantly) Yeah, I know you told me at the-  

Lincoln: (Suddenly furious) Then listen! It was a set up. I went there that night to clear a debt. Crab Simmons was on my ass for the ninety grand I owed him. Told me the mark was some scumbag drug dealer and if I took it I would be clean. I never pulled the trigger. All I know is that, somebody wanted me in the same garage as Terence Steadman that night.

Veronica: Why would somebody set you up?

(Lincoln stands and moves away.)

Lincoln: It wasn’t about me. It was about him.

Veronica: Steadman?

Lincoln: Yes.

Veronica: The guy was like a saint. All the charity work, the environmental progress his company was makin. About the only person in this whole country who had a motive to kill him was you.

Lincoln: (In pain) You came all the way down here to tell me how guilty I am?

Veronica: (Tears in her eyes) I don’t know why I came here. (She looks away and Lincoln sits back down)

Lincoln: You have your life now. I know that. But if what we had before meant anything to you, you’d find out the truth. (He looks up)   

Veronica: Maybe all this is the truth. Maybe they got it right. (Lincoln shakes his head and she gets up.)

CUT TO

[EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

(There is almost an altercation between a bunch of black guys and one white guy.

CUT TO:

[INT. THE SHOE-DAY]

(Sucre is writing something on the floor in chalk, then looks at his watch and mutters in Spanish.)

Sucre: (Getting up) Badge. Badge, open up. Badge!

CO: You talking again?

Sucre: It’s my girl’s birthday.
CO: Every day’s her birthday to her.

Sucre: You gotta let me call her. Please! I’ll give you a million dollars if you let me use the phone.

CO: I seen your kit Sucre, you got like forty cents to your name. (He shuts the door. Sucre yells and pounds on the door in frustration. Finally, he collapses on the floor, about to cry.)

CUT TO:

[EXT. CHICAGO STREETS-NIGHT]

(A limo pulls up to a hot nightclub and a bunch of girls pile out. Maricruz sits there, uncertain.)

Hector: (Notices her) Alright! Maricruz, what are you doing? Come on!

Maricruz: (Her face brightening when she sees him) It’s okay Hector, you go ahead.

Hector: What are you talkin about?

Maricruz: I’m just going to take a cab.

Hector: What you mean like, go home? I mean you just got here. (She’s silent and he comes closer.) He didn’t call you did he? (She shakes her head and hesitates, wanting to put this next comment delicate) I love Fernando to death, but the guy’s a deadbeat. You gotta move on with your life. (He waits and she looks up, having decided.)

CUT TO:

[INT. COURTHOUSE-DAY]

(Mr. Time Giles is going through security only to be met by Paul Kellerman on the other side.)

Kellerman: Mr. Giles we’d like to have a word with you if we could.

Tim: I really don’t have the time-

Kellerman: (Holding out his Secret Service badge) I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist. (Tim finishes getting through security) It’s come to our attention that you made a foil request on the Lincoln Burrows case.

(Danny Hale hands Tim his briefcase.)

Tim: Yeah so?

Kellerman: Records show that you made a duplicate of the surveillance tape.

Tim: That’s right.

Kellerman: (Nods) Mind telling us why?

Tim: Just one of Burrow’s old girlfriends man. She was just under the impression he was…innocent. Thought it would help her with some closure.

Kellerman: She’s in possession of the tape now then?

Tim: Don’t pull that crap on me. It’s the Freedom of Information act. She’s entitled to that tape as much as you or i.

Kellerman: Sure: Just one more thing. This old girlfriend, what’s her name?

CUT TO:

[INT. VERONICA’S CAR-DAY]

(She parks her car and hurries across the street with an umbrella, stopping by a woman collecting her mail.)

Veronica: Is this the Simmons residence?
Ms. Simmons: I’m Ms. Simmons.

Veronica: I’m sorry. (She pulls out one of her business cards.) I’m Veronica Donovan. I’m looking for Crab Simmons. Are you related?

Ms. Simmons: He’s my son.

Veronica: Is he around?

Ms. Simmons: No.

Veronica: Could you tell me where I can find him?

Ms. Simmons: Lady, go away. I can’t help you, can’t you understand that? (She starts walking up her stairs)

Veronica: Look, I’m sorry. It’s just…a man’s life is at stake and maybe your son can help him.

Ms. Simmons: Crab can’t help nobody lady. He’s dead.

Veronica: (She didn’t expect this) I’m sorry.

(A boy in one of the upstairs rooms has been looking out at the conversation, but then closes his window curtains.)

CUT TO:

[INT-CELL BLOCK-NIGHT]

CO: Heads up cons. Stand at your gate.

(Prisoners slowly but surely emerge from their cells.)

Cell Neighbor: (Creepily) About to fall off fish.

(There are tense, hard eyes all around, especially between C-Note and Michael. Suddenly one stands forward.)

CO: C-Note! Get back on number.

(Moreland retreats back into cell with his cat.  CO repeats the order, while another calls for backup. The fight breaks out. Michael is thrown over the railing. Some convicts go hard at it. Others stay in their cells. T-Bag slices a black guy’s throat. Maytag rushes over to Michael with his arm raised, brandishing the bolt. Michael fights him to the ground and straddles him, trying to get the screw back. He does then and looks up to find C-Note watching him. He knows what he has to do. He circles with Maytag, almost boxing match like. When he’s about to strike, C-Note comes in and stabs him right in the heart. Maytag looks down as the blood begins to flow from his chest and falls forward reaching out to Michael, who grabs him. He gives Michael a look of panic and fear.

Maytag: Help me! (He dies and Michael looks around, breathing heavily)

T-Bag: Scofield! (He sees the situation and looks horrified)

(Smoke cans are dropped and all the prisoners return to their cells. T-Bags cries of outrage can be heard. Michael gets back to his cell, coughing.)

You’re a dead man Scofield, you hear me? You’re a dead man!

(Michael, trying to catch his breath, terrified, grabs his bolt and holds it in front of him, daring someone to come and attack him. The cell doors close and Michael slides to the floor. Overwhelmed, he puts his face into his arms, adrenalin pumping. This leads into a Commercial Set.)

OPEN TO:

[EXT. PAN OVER FOX RIVER PRISON-NIGHT]

CUT TO:

[INT. CELL BLOCK-NIGHT]

Pope: (Walking on the bottom level) I really don’t know what to say to you gentlemen. I try to give you the benefit of a doubt.

(Michael takes off his shirt and throws it to the side.)

I try to treat you with respect. But you can’t respect yourselves. So there’s going to be a forty eight hour lockdown. No showers, no visitations. And I strongly suggest that you all learn to get along. Otherwise the next time it’s going to be a week and after that a month. Think about it. (He exits the cell block)

(Michael, tears in his eyes, needs something to do. He begins to shape the bolt by scraping the end against the cement floor.)

CUT TO:

[INT. PRISON MORGUE-NIGHT]

(T-Bag identifies Maytag’s body somberly.)

CUT TO:

[INT. VERONICA’S OFFICE-NIGHT]

Secretary: I got a Leticia Barris on the phone.

Veronica: I don’t know who that is. Take a message.

Secretary: She says she used to date Crab Simmons.

(Veronica, her interest perked, reaches for the phone.)

Veronica: Leticia thanks for calling.

Leticia: You wanna hear what I have to say? We meet in a public place where they can’t get to us.

Veronica: Whoa, whoa. Where who can’t get to us?

Leticia: You wanna hear what I have to say or not? Cause if you don’t I’m gonna hang up right now.

Veronica: No, no. you just name the time and the place.

CUT TO:

[EXT. BUST CHICAGO SQUARE-DAY]

Leticia: Over here.

Veronica: You know Leticia. Thanks for coming.

Leticia: Go easy lady. We don’t know each other, you got that? We’ll stay out here in the open where they can’t get to us. Where they can’t do what they do.  (She looks at Veronica) The only reason I’m talking to you is cause they’re gonna kill your boy, just like they killed mine.

Veronica: Coroner’s report says that smack killed your boyfriend Leticia. It was an overdose.

Leticia: No overdose.

Veronica: What do you mean?

Leticia: Crab didn’t use! He had a bad heart. It he touched that stuff, it’d killed him. I mean, don’t you think it’s the slightest coincidence that he o.d a week after your boyfriends crime. They killed him. Cause he knew things. Things they didn’t want to get out.

Veronica: Like what?

Leticia: (Shifting) Like who was really behind the killing that night. It wasn’t Crab, for damn sure and it sure as hell wasn’t Lincoln. Neither of those boys knew what they were getting into. They were just pawns in a big game. (Looks around anxiously)

Veronica: What?

Leticia: They’re here.

Veronica: Who’s here?

Leticia: Don’t try to follow me. Don’t find me, I won’t testify.

Veronica: Just slow down and talk to me.

Leticia: I’d get as far away from here as you can girl. (Comes close) Cause there ain’t nobody they can’t get to. (She hurries off running through puddles while Veronica calls after her. Shot changes to show Kellerman and Hale across the street, sipping coffee.)

CUT TO:

[INT. AGENT KELLERMAN’S OFFICE-DAY]

(He’s anxious; shot goes to the different pieces of Secret Service paraphernalia. Unable to take it, he picks up the phone.)

CUT TO:

[EXT. HOUSE IN THE SECLUDED AREA-DAY]

(Shot goes inside to a woman at the island in her kitchen chopping garlic when the phone rings.)

The Garlic Cutter: Hello?

Kellerman: We have a small complication. There’s a lawyer poking around.

The Garlic Cutter: Veronica Donovan.

Kellerman: Yes.

The Garlic Cutter: You can handle a girl who graduated in the middle of her Baylor law school class. At least I’d like to think so, given the stakes of what we’re dealing with here.

(Silence as children run through the kitchen. She nudges them towards the TV.)

Anyone who’s a threat to what we’re doing is expendable.

Kellerman: Understood.

The Garlic Cutter: Do what you need to do to make this go away.

(She hangs up, and he places the phone onto its receiver. Then he cracks his neck sharply, ready to get to work.)

CUT TO:

[EXT. PAN OVER FOX RIVER PENITENTIARY-NIGHT]

CUT TO:

[INT. MICHAEL’S CELL-NIGHT]

(He’s still scraping away, filing the edges down.)

T-Bag: You in there pretty? (T-Bag hangs of the bars of his cell, grinning manically)

(Michael stops, listening, then continues.)

I know you’re there.

(Michael stops again and looks toward his cell door.)

Just want you to know that I’m comin for you. You’ve got nowhere to run. You’re trapped in that little hole of yours. (A soon to be ironic statement) Trapped like the pig (In a menacing whisper) that I’m gonna slaughter.

(Michael gives a little moan and continues, then looks at the bolt.)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[FLASHBACK-INT. MICHAEL’S APARTMENT-NIGHT]

(He’s sitting at his desk looking at the actual blueprints on paper and the layout structure for the toilet. ALLEN bolts.)

WHITE FLASH TO:

[PRESENT DAY- INT. MICHAEL’S CELL-NIGHT]

(He pulls up his arm sleeve and pretends to insert it into a place on his tattoo. Michael then goes to his toilet and unscrews another bolt near the top of the toilet, using the ALLEN bolt. Shot runs through the tunnels and sewers and up through the grate into the infirmary.)

Dr. Tancredi: Who’s my one o clock?

Kathy: Michael Scofield.

CUT TO:

[EXT. PRISON YARD-DAY]

C-Note: I was wrong about you Scofield. Here’s the Pugnac.

Michael: A little late.

C-Note: Well better late than never, right?

CO: Scofield! Infirmary!

Michael: We’ll see about that. (He walks away)

C-Note: Uhmmm. I’m going to find out you know, (Michael stops) what it is you’re doin up there.

CUT TO:

[INT. PRISON INFIRMARY- DAY]

(Dr. Tancredi takes Michael’s index finger and she swabs it, getting ready to administer the test. She punctures the skin, drawing blood and applies a testing pad to take the blood.)

Michael: How long does it take?

Dr. Tancredi: It used to take hours, but we’ve come a long way with the new glucose kits. This’ll take us ten seconds. (Michael looks apprehensive)  Slide this strips into the meter then we’re ready to go. I’m sure you know this but, the average glucose for a non- diabetic is about one hundred milligrams per deciliter. We see a number like that here and we know you’ve been misdiagnosed.

(Michael looks ill, fidgeting. He glances over at the grate in the corner, then rubs his temples.)

(Softly) You seem nervous.
 
Michael: (Acting surprised) I do?

Dr. Tancredi: You’re sweating.

Michael: Must be needles. Never got used to them.

(The processing finishes)

Dr. Tancredi: Somehow, with diabetes and that tattoo, I find that hard to believe.

(He pulls his arm sleeve down)

Dr. Tancredi: Ah. Bad news I’m afraid. (She shows him the meter) one hundred and eighty milligrams per deciliter. You are definitely diabetic.

(Michael, forgetting himself, smiles a huge smile of relief.)

Michael: Do you need anything else from me?

Dr. Tancredi: Just an arm to stick a needle in.

Michael: Okay. (He gets up, rejuvenated and leaves)

Dr. Tancredi: See you Wednesday.

Kathy: Cute!

Dr. Tancredi: Prisoner. I don’t know. There’s something strange about him.

Kathy: What do you mean?

Dr. Tancredi: I gave him the results of his blood test and there was this look on his face. It was um…relief. (She thinks about it)

CUT TO:

[EXT. OUTSIDE OF PRISON YARD-DAY]

(A CO escorts Michael back to his cell. Bellick intervenes.)

Bellick: It’s okay. I got it. I’m headed over to the A wing anyhow.

(He takes over escorting Michael, he whistles softly)

Michael: (Dryly) You’re positively beaming boss.

Bellick: Got up on the right side of the bed this morning I guess. (He pulls Michael’s arm, stopping him.) Hold up. Now don’t you move fishie.

(He goes away. Meanwhile burly men come for Michael.)

Man: Come with us fish.

(They take him to the gardening shed where Abruzzi is waiting, humming to himself. Bellick sees this and walks away, laughing.)

Abruzzi: This little polka that you and I have been for a while as of this moment (Pats the surface beside him) it’s over. (The men deposit Michael in that spot.) Fibonacci. I wanna know how you got to him and where he is right now.

Michael: (Stares at him) Not gonna happen John.

(Abruzzi nods, we’ll see. Then he nods to his boys. They grab Michael and hold him down. He struggles but they manage to get his left shoe and sock off. They put gardening shears to his smallest toe.)

Abruzzi: I’m going to count to three. One.

Michael: (Breathing heavily) I give you that information I’m a dead man. You know it and I know it.

Abruzzi: Two.

Michael: I’ll tell you the moment we’re outside those walls. Not a second before.

Abruzzi: Tell me now.

Michael: (Whispering) Not gonna happen John.

Abruzzi: Hey. I’ll give you one last chance.

(Michael remains silent and Abruzzi can’t believe it. Abruzzi nods to the man holding the shears.)

Three.

(The shears close and Michael’s face distorts in pain.)

CUT TO BLACK

 

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Transcribed by SIENNA for http://www.twiztv.com
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