ACT 1.

Opening Scene

(Michael getting a hand of cards tattooed onto his arm, close up of the numbers the tattoo artist is putting on.)

[1. INT. Prison yard. Day.]

(Abruzzi sits at a bench, laying some cards out. He looks up and sees two members of the new PI team smirking at him. He watches them as they walk into the break room.)

[2. INT. Break room. Day.]

(The new PI team work on the break room. One guy walks across the carpet, creaking the wooden board laying over the hole. Camera close up on the rumpled carpet.)

[3. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

(Abruzzi goes over to where Bellick is walking, outside the fence.)

Abruzzi: Bellick. Hey, boss.

Bellick: Check that volume, inmate.

Abruzzi: We've been doing business too long. We can fix this thing, right?

Bellick: Let's get something clear. You and I haven't done crap,  Falzone's the one been paying me.

Abruzzi: Falzone is just an envelope, you've been doing business with me face to face.

Bellick: You think I like getting piss thrown at me? Spit on? These other chumps might do it for the 40 grand a year and the little blue uniform, but I'm not that dumb. Falzone's envelope is the only reason I come through that fence every day, and it's the only reason I'm gonna keep coming through that fence. Until I have enough money to buy that house on Lake Gray. I'm thinking early retirement, John. And you're interfering with that.

Abruzzi: Hey, boss. Just give me some time, and I can match whatever Falzone is paying you.

Bellick: You're out of business. Get used to it.

(Bellick walks away. Abruzzi yells after him.)

Abruzzi: Hey, boss. Boss!

[4. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

(Michael watches the new PI crew working.)

Abruzzi: They're gonna find it. The longer they're in there, the sooner they're gonna find it.

Michael: Then we gotta get back in there.

Abruzzi: I'm gonna say something crazy to you right now.

Michael: Surprise, surprise.

Abruzzi: I don't give a damn about that Fibonacci anymore.

Michael: You're right, that is crazy.

Abruzzi: Because I got bigger things to think about, like survival. You see, I'm kinda short on friends in here, in case you haven't noticed. I need to get out, right now. While I still got my life.

Michael: Then why are we talking about Fibonacci?

Abruzzi: Look, the only way I can get that room back is if I can prove to Falzone I'm still worthy, that I still got what it takes. Yeah? And the only way I can do that is if I can give him Fibonacci.

Michael: Interesting.

Abruzzi: You see, this is not a me-versus-you thing anymore. This is us. An us thing, all right? It's us for the escape.

Michael: Is it? Or is this about you getting in good with the Mob again?

Abruzzi: That life is over for me, Fish. I mean, they clipped my wings. They want me to rot in here, so I got no allegiance to them anymore.

Michael: And yet you still wanna do them a favour.

Abruzzi: Falzone is desperate. See, if Fibonacci testifies in front of the Congress next month, Falzone's gonna go down in flames. But if we give him Fibonacci, he will give us anything. Anything, including that very special room. What do you say, Fish?

[5. INT. Chapel. Day.]

Priest: And the Lord said unto Satan, 'hast thou considered my servant Job? That there is none like him in the earth. A perfect and an upright man. One that fears God, and shuns evil'.

Lincoln: Give him up.

Michael: If I do, they'll k*ll him.

Lincoln: Maybe he deserves it.

Michael: That's just it, he doesn't.

Lincoln: Who is this guy? You told me he was Mafia.

Michael: He was working for the Mafia. He just didn't know it. Otto Fibonacci is...he's just like you. An innocent man, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

[Flashback:

Otto Fibonacci can hear people talking in one of Abruzzi's warehouses, he walks round to see.

Man#1 (o/s, scared): What are you doing? You know... I didn't steal from you, John!

Michael (v/o): He was middle management at one of Abruzzi's warehouses. Just a normal guy, working class, religious.

(Fibonacci can see two guys on their knees in front of two men, holding g*n, one of whom is presumably Abruzzi.)

(Man#1: You know I'd never steal from you, Johnny...)

(Abruzzi: Hey, Nicky. Nicky, Nicky, Nicky. Shh. What did I tell you about talkin'?)

(Man#1 (sobbing): John, please...)

(Abruzzi gives the nod, the mobster next to him sh**t him d*ad.)

(Man#2: Johnny please, no!)

(Abruzzi nods again and the mobster sh**t him d*ad as well.)

(Fibonacci, outside the door, looked shocked.]

Michael (v/o): And somebody that couldn't turn his back on m*rder. He realised that Abruzzi and Falzone, the men he worked for, were K*llers. And he had the key to all their dealings. Fingers that could put them away for life.

(CUT TO: Fibonacci in the present day, sitting at home with his wife and three young children.)

Michael (v/o): And now he's in witness protection for life. The judge asked him why he was coming forward with this information. He said it was because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Lincoln: What's the right thing to do now, Michael?

Michael: I don't know. But if I don't give him up, this whole thing's over.

Lincoln: What you're telling me is if...if I'm to live...

(CUT TO: Fibonacci at home with his family.)

Michael: A good man has to die.

OPENING CREDITS.

[6. INT. Apartment. Day.]

(Kellerman and Hale are sitting in a luxurious high-rise apartment. Kellerman's cell phone rings.)

Kellerman: Kellerman.

Caroline (o/s): You're in the place we discussed.

Kellerman: Yes. I'm still not exactly sure why we're here, but...

Caroline: A friend of mine should be along there shortly.

Kellerman: A friend?

Caroline: Just to see where you are with things.

Kellerman: I think we're clear on where we are with things. Everything's under control. Nothing is going to affect tomorrow, if that's what you're worried about.

Caroline: I'm not worried about tomorrow. My friend is a problem solver, that's all. He's there at your disposal, if you need him. Do me a favour, make him feel like part of the team, hm? Talk so.

(They both hang up.)

Hale: What?

Kellerman: She's bringing someone in.

Hale: What does that mean?

Kellerman: Something in her tone changed.

Hale: You think she knows about the kid?

Kellerman: We don't know that.

Hale: We shouldn't have lied. We shouldn't have told her we had the kid.

Kellerman: What is it you don't understand? We tell her that kid got away, you and I we are not here right now.

Hale: I swear to God it just gets deeper and deeper

Kellerman: What is that supposed to mean?

Hale: It means, if I'd have known that this is how the whole thing was gonna turn out, I'd have got some crap job with the feds. Pushed pencils. Drank coffee all day long behind a desk. God, that sounds good.

Kellerman: Keep talking like that, I'm gonna be forced to put a b*llet in your head. As for her friend, whoever that is, we find out what he wants, we play nice, we deal with it accordingly.

[7. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

Sucre: Michael. You'd better see this.

(They walk over to the fence. The new PI crew are carrying rolls of carpet and underlay towards the break room.)

Sucre (whistles): Hey, Jersey. Are you putting that carpet in the guards' room?

Jersey: Yeah, I think so.

Sucre: When?

Jersey: We gotta tear up the old stuff first. As soon as we're done with that. Tonight, tomorrow, maybe.

Sucre (to Michael): They're gonna find it, bro. They're gonna find the hole. We gotta do something.

[8. INT. Lincoln's cell. Day.]

(Patterson takes a food tray over, opens the hatch and bangs in on the door.)

Patterson: Linc. Chow.

Lincoln (takes the tray, notices a form on it): What's this?

Patterson: It's for, uh...you know. Your last meal. Write down what you want.

(Lincoln posts the form and the pen back through the door and walks over to his bed.)

Patterson: Linc, you gotta write something down.

Lincoln: I ain't gotta do nothin'.

Patterson: If you don't fill it out, all they're gonna give you is what's on chow for that day.

Lincoln: So?

Patterson: You don't want that for your last meal, do you man? Hm?

(Lincoln ignores him. Patterson slides the form and pen back under the door.)

Patterson: In case you think of something.

[9. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

(C-Note walks up to the fence next to where the PI crew are working.)

C-Note: Hey, eyetie.

Fiorello: Something you need there, rug head?

C-Note: Yeah, a job, man.

Fiorello (chuckles): Why don't you h*t the DQ down the street. We're not hiring.

C-Note: I'll put a hundred in your kick every month.

Fiorello: You wanna pay me to work?

C-Note: Hey I've been in the kitchen for eight months. I scrub one more tray, I'm gonna go J-Cat, you know what I'm sayin'?

Stolte (calling from the guard room): Hey! Fiorello, how about it?

Fiorello: Yeah, yeah. (He leans closer to C-Note.) One-fifty.

C-Note: Sign me up then, baby.

[10. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

(Michael approaches Abruzzi.)

Michael: I was thinking about what you said. That it's not a me-versus-you thing. It's an us thing.

Abruzzi: That's right.

Michael: How far are you willing to go with that?

Abruzzi: As far as I have to.

Michael: Then set up a meeting with Falzone. I wanna talk to him directly.

Abruzzi: Falzone doesn't talk to guys like you directly.

Michael: If he wants Fibonacci, he's gonna have to.

ACT 2.

[11. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

Abruzzi (on the telephone): No, no. No, you heard me right.

Falzone (o/s): You're telling me this kid is gonna give up Fibonacci? You're sure?

Abruzzi: I'm definite. Only thing, he wants to meet with you directly.

Falzone (o/s): Son of a bitch. You actually did something right, John. That's good. Guess I'll have to call off those guys I hired to shank you.

(Abruzzi is quiet, looking nervous.)

Falzone (o/s): That was a joke, John.

Abruzzi: Funny.

Falzone (o/s): Good. I'll come out there this afternoon. And John, if I come all the way out there and this turns out to be a waste of my time, I'm gonna castrate you. I hope you understand that. Be well my friend.

Abruzzi: I love you too.

(They both hang up. Abruzzi walks over to Michael.)

Abruzzi: He's coming. Don't mess this up.

(Michael watches him walk away then walks over to the phone. He dials a number which he reads from the set of cards tattoo on his arm.)

CUT TO: Camera pans up the legs of a very beautiful woman, who is sitting and putting on lipstick in front of a large mirror. She speaks with a Slovakian accent.

Nika: Hello?

Michael: It's me.

Nika: I know. I saw 'Inmate' on the caller ID.

Michael: Remember when I said I might be calling you on Fibonacci?

Nika: Yes.

Michael: Well. It's time.

[12. INT. Infirmary. Day.]

(Sara is redressing the wound on Michael's foot.)

Sara: You seem distracted.

Michael: Got a lot on my mind, I guess.

Sara: Yeah? Have anything to do with the people who took these toes?

Michael (changing the subject): Nice flowers.

Sara: Right.

Michael: Do we have an admirer?

(Sara won't look at him.)

Sara: They're from my father.

Michael: Ah. What's the occasion?

Sara: It's my birthday.

Michael: Today?

Sara: Mm-hm.

Michael: Happy birthday.

Sara: Thank you.

Michael: Okay...

Sara: Huh.

Michael: Nothing. Birthdays aren't usually a sore subject, that's all. Unless the celebrant is feeling her age, which I don't see how you could be.

Sara: I'm 29 years old, Michael. I'm not feeling my age. It's just that out of those 29 birthdays, my father has actually managed to see me on precisely...six of them. So I get flowers instead. Flowers that end up d*ad and in the trash a week later. That sounded bitter, huh?

Michael: Kind of.

Sara: It's not a big deal. You are all set, I will see you tomorrow.

Michael: Okay. (He walks towards the door.) I'm sorry you feel that way. About the flowers, I mean.

[13. EXT. Outside storage area. Day.]

Fiorello: Hey, somebody get on this. I want these in the other room.

C-Note: I got it, boss.

(Another PI member goes to pick them up.)

C-Note: Hey, chill, lily-white, I got it.

(He picks them up and carries them through to the break room. Then he starts looking around.)

C-Note: Come on, I know you're around here somewhere.

(He picks up some of the concrete fragments that he has seen the old PI crew dropping in the yard. As he is looking around, he steps right on the hole and the floor creaks. Quickly, he pulls the carpet back and finds the hole. He smiles.)

[14. INT. Cabin in New Glarus. Day.]

(Nick and Veronica watch LJ, who is sitting outside.)

Nick: He's not doing well, is he?

Veronica: He just lost his mother. Ten days from now, he loses his father.

[15. EXT. Cabin in New Glarus. Day.]

Nick: How you holding up?

(LJ doesn't answer.)

Nick: You know, I sort of get what you're going through here, LJ.

LJ: No disrespect, but I don't know that you do.

Nick: No, with my dad. I was in the same spot when I was your age. He was in prison. And like your dad, he was innocent.

LJ: What happened? You know, at the end.

Nick: What I hope happens here - he got exonerated.

LJ: What did they say he did?

Nick: A lot of bad things. They weren't true. And we proved that. Every day, every day was a lost cause. But we kept fighting. I mean, what else are you gonna do when you love somebody? Let them go out like that? So you fight. You keep fighting. You never give up. We're gonna b*at this thing. Okay?

[16. INT. Apartment. Day.]

(There is a knock at the door and Kellerman answers it.)

Quinn: Hello

Kellerman: Hello.

Quinn: You were expecting me? A mutual friend arranged it...

Kellerman: Yes.

Quinn: You mind if I...?

Kellerman (steps back): Please.

(Quinn enters the apartment.)

Quinn (to Hale): Hey, how are... (he notices the view and whistles.)

Kellerman: I'm sorry, I didn't get your name.

Quinn: Quinn.

Kellerman: Mr. Quinn, mind telling us what we're doing here?

Quinn: You can probably tell just by looking at me, I'm not a wave-making sort. Just think of me as a supervisor. Who's here to make sure things are under control as we approach...you know, the big event.

Kellerman: I wasn't aware that things were out of control.

Quinn: Well, you'd be the one that would know, wouldn't you?

(He sits down, and Hale sits opposite. Kellerman stays standing.)

Quinn: Well, the reason I'm here is because there's a discrepancy between what you know and what you have said to the vice-president. The lawyers you tried to blow up - they're still running around, healthy as thoroughbreds. You know it, I know it. Same thing goes with the kid, who you were silly enough to tell the old lady that you were actually in possession of. Now everything that I'm saying is boiling down to this. You gotta hand the reins over to me now, so that I can save your ass.

(Kellerman slowly, thr*at walks over to Quinn.)

Kellerman (reaching out a hand towards Quinn): First of all...

(Quinn grabs Kellerman's hand, and twists his fingers so they crack. Kellerman yells in pain. Hale gets up to intervene.)

Kellerman (to Hale): No. No.

Quinn: See, now you made me make a wave. (he stands and speaks to Hale.) You and your partner are off the case until further notice. It doesn't come from me, it doesn't come from the White House, it comes from The Company. You understand?

(Hale nods slightly. Kellerman is still clutching his fingers in intense agony.)

Quinn: Look, your proximal and middle phalanx are broken. Ice it for 45 minutes then splint it. That's what a doctor would tell you to do, so you don't need to go see one.

(He leaves. Kellerman and Hale look at each other.)

[17. INT. Cabin in New Glarus. Day.]

(Veronica is working at a laptop.)

Nick: EcoField's SEC filings.

Veronica: Terrence Steadman was m*rder so the information from his indictment wouldn't be made public. Right?

Nick: Sure. But since they never saw the light of day we have no way of knowing what they were trying to cover up.

Veronica: Steadman's wife said there were hundreds of millions of dollars at stake if her husband went down. So I figure we follow the money and see where it takes us.

Nick (reading off the screen): $109,000,000, $112,000,000...

Veronica: Over half a billion dollars that I've found so far in federal grants to EcoField for alternative fuel research.

Nick: That is a hell of a lot of money.

Veronica: But for what? Not only did the company never make a profit, as far as I can tell, they never made anything. Look, no fuel sales, no patents, no findings, nothing.

Nick: So EcoField was a sham. It was a cover.

Veronica: The question is, for what?

[18. INT. Prison visiting room. Day.]

(Michael and Abruzzi are buzzed into the visiting room. Philly Falzone is sitting alone at a table in the middle of the room.)

Abruzzi: Philly.

Falzone (to Michael): Sit down, kid.

(Michael sits.)

Falzone: So...Fibonacci. How'd you find him?

Michael: I did my homework.

(Abruzzi sits down carefully. Falzone leans closer to Michael.)

Falzone: You get elliptical with me for one more second and I will cancel you. You understand me?

Abruzzi (warningly): Give it up, Fish.

Michael: Before someone's transferred to the US marshals service and placed in witness protection, they're guarded by a local sheriff from the county where the trial will take place.

(Flashback: Michael on the phone in his apartment.

Michael (on telephone): Sheriff Solomon, please.

Woman (o/s): Please hold...

Solomon (o/s): Andrew Solomon here.

(Michael presses the disconnect button. He turns to a pad of paper with four names written on - Schatz, Solomon, Pronzo and Marx. The first is crossed out. He crosses out Solomon.)

Michael (v/o): If the sheriff was available then he wasn't the one guarding Fibonacci.

(Michael dials the third sheriff on the list.)

Woman (o/s): Putnam County Sheriff's Office.

Michael: Yeah, is Sheriff Pronzo there?

Woman (o/s): I'm sorry, Sheriff Pronzo's on vacation.

Michael: Really.

Woman (o/s): Yes, sir.

(Michael rings the name Pronzo on the pad.)

Michael: There are only four sheriffs in the country. And since Pronzo was the only one who was not in his office, and his wife and kids were waiting for him at home, I knew the only vacation he was taking was with Fibonacci.

Falzone: Watching him until they could put him in protection.

Michael: Thing is, sometimes it takes weeks for the marshal service to set up a new identity. So some local sheriff is stuck in the middle of nowhere with Fibonacci. He gets lonely and calls home - a lot.

(Flashback: Michael parks his car outside Pronzo's house and walks up to Pronzo's mailbox. He flips through the letters until he finds the phone bill.)

Michael (v/o): I called the phone company, said I was Pronzo and I'd lost my bill. I asked for another copy. It seems Mrs. Pronzo was receiving dozens of calls from an area code a long way from Chicago. I went online, reverse-traced the number and voila: there was Fibonacci's exact location.

Falzone: How do you know he's still there?

Michael: I have someone looking after him. Watching from afar, in case he moves.

Falzone: Mmhmm. This is about money, isn't it?

Michael: You're an astute man, Mr. Falzone.

Abruzzi: What?

Falzone: Your friend here, John, is trying to extort me.

Michael: Not extortion. Insurance. I plan on being out of here one day. And I don't think my new resume is gonna cut it in most places.

Falzone: How much?

Michael: 200,000.

(Falzone makes an angry face.)

Abruzzi (hissing, to Michael): I'm gonna k*ll you!

Michael: Quid pro quo. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.

Abruzzi: Well I'll give you some quid pro quo.

(Abruzzi reaches into his pocket, pulls out a photograph and slams it on the table in front of Michael. He looks at it. It's Veronica.)

Michael: Where did you get this? Who took this picture?

Abruzzi: Well, since you took it upon yourself to have people watching over our interests on the outside, we took it upon ourselves to have some people watching over yours. So who's it gonna be? Fibonacci or your pretty little girlfriend there?

ACT 3.

[19. INT. Visiting room. Day.]

Abruzzi: Yeah, you should be careful with who visits you in here, Fish. These walls have eyes.

Michael: If you touch her, I'll k*ll you myself.

Falzone: One, that is an empty thr*at. You are less than a gnat to me. And two, all you gotta do is give me the address and we avoid all this melodrama altogether.

(Michael leans on his hands, thinking.)

Falzone: The address, you gnat. Now!

Michael: Promise me...promise me it'll be quick and painless.

Falzone (to Abruzzi): Do you believe this guy?

Michael: Promise me.

Falzone: If the next thing that comes out of your mouth is not that address, there's gonna be a lot of pain in a lot of places. (He puts a thr*at hand on the photo of Veronica.)

(Michael snatches the photo away, displacing Falzone's hand. He sighs.)

Michael: Canada. 345 Hamilton Avenue. Thunder Bay, Ontario.

Falzone: Get outta here.

(Michael stares at him for a second, then, walking like a condemned man, he goes back to the gate.)

Falzone: Nice work, John. I guess the demise of John Abruzzi was greatly exaggerated.

Abruzzi: Thank you, I appreciate it. Could you do me a favour and fix this Bellick thing for me?

Falzone: Yeah, consider it done.

(They embrace.)

Abruzzi: Thank you. And Philly, before you pull the trigger, look that son of a bitch in his eyes and tell him John Abruzzi said goodbye.

Falzone: Okay.

[20. INT. Michael's cell. Day.]

(Michael walks into his cell, looking extremely sick and guilty.)

[21. EXT. Campaign stand. Day.]

Caption: Montgomery, Illinois.

(A camera crew is getting ready to film.)

Caroline: "In a race toward worldwide peace and prosperity, America will set the pace." Race? Rat race, arms race... Can you think of a word with a worse connotation? Fix it.

(She walks down the steps.)

Kellerman: Did you send me a babysitter?

Caroline: This is not the time or the place.

Kellerman: This is the time and the place.

Caroline: Don't take that tone with me. Remember who you are talking to. I am the vice president of this country.

Kellerman: No, actually, you're Caroline Reynolds from Montgomery, Illinois. I know exactly who you are.

Caroline: Come with me. (She holds up a hand at some people waiting for her with pens and papers.) Just...

[22. EXT. Campaign stand. Day.]

Caroline: There is something you need to understand. If you had done your job, I never would've had to ask for Quinn.

Kellerman: And there's something you need to understand. You woke a sleeping beast when you called these guys in. They have a bigger agenda than any of us and they get real nasty real quick if things don't go their way. So now no-one is safe. Not you, not me.

Caroline: Let's not overreact. I mean, I know everyone is nervous about tomorrow. I understand that. But the one thing both of us have to remember is that we are in this together. Okay?

Kellerman: All I'm saying is, these guys are into this thing now, and there's no going back. That's bad news for everyone.

[23. INT. Apartment corridor. Night.]

(Quinn is following a man along the corridor; the man is carrying two overnight bags. He stops by a door and opens it.)

Quinn: Sebastian Balfour?

Sebastian: Yeah?

Quinn: I'm Nestor Pollack. Midwestern Life and Casualty. (He hands him a business card.)

Sebastian: I'm already covered. Thanks.

Quinn: Oh, no, I'm here to discuss Veronica Donovan.

Sebastian: What about her?

Quinn: Well, we've been trying to track her down with respect to the damage from the apartment expl*si*n.

Sebastian: expl*si*n?

Quinn: You didn't know. Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that, her records...they list you as her fiancé, so I assumed...

Sebastian: Hold on. Is Veronica okay?

Quinn: Well, there has been a fatality.

Sebastian: Oh my God!

Quinn: But the medical examiners haven't been able to identify the remains with any certainty. So Veronica could be okay, we just can't find her. We were hoping you could help.

[24: INT. Lincoln's cell. Night.]

(Lincoln is pacing, agitated. He sits down on his bed, picks up the coded message from LJ in the papers he received in the mail: 'It's LJ, I'm with Veronica. I'm okay. I love you.' He rubs his head anxiously. The camera pans into those three words: 'I love you'.)

[25. INT. Segregation block. Night.]

(Patterson is doing a check, down the corridor, looking into the cells.)

Patterson: Rozz. Reese. Burrows.

(As he passes Lincoln's cell, a piece of paper comes out from under it. He picks it up.)

Patterson: Blueberry pancakes, huh? All right man, you got it. Blueberry pancakes.

[26. INT. Cabin. Night.]

(Nick and LJ are asleep on separate sofas. Veronica is still working at the laptop. Suddenly an instant message pops up. It reads: "Veronica, are you out there? If U R out there. I am worried. from Sebastian.)

(Veronica types back: 'I'm fine'.)

(Another message comes back: 'Thank God. Where are you?')

(Veronica types: 'Can't say. Have 2 go. Goodbye.')

[27. INT. Sebastian's apartment. Night.]

(Camera pans across the room to show Sebastian lying slumped at the sofa, d*ad. Quinn plugs a tracking device into his laptop. He traces Veronica's location.)

[28. INT. Michael's cell. Night.]

(Michael lays on his bunk, he holds his watch in his hands and taps it anxiously.)

[29. EXT. Hamilton Avenue. Night.]

(Falzone's car draws up slowly.)

Falzone: 341...

(The car's headlights go out.)

Falzone: 345. This is it.

[30. INT. Fibonacci's house. Night.]

Fibonacci: All right, that's it, kids. Time for bed. Give me a kiss. Are you okay down there buddy? Night night.

(He kisses his younger son on the top bunk, then his elder son in the bottom bunk. He crosses over to his daughter's bed.)

Fibonacci: All right sweetheart, gimme a kiss.

[31: INT. Michael's cell. Night.]

(Michael continues to tap the watch, worried.)

[32. INT. Fibonacci's house. Night.]

(He walks down the stairs and into the living room to his wife.)

Fibonacci: Kids are down.

Wife: Thanks.

[33. EXT. Hamilton Avenue. Night.]

Falzone: Tonight we send a message, gentlemen. We are gonna hurt him and his family the way he hurt ours.

(He loads his g*n.)

ACT 4.

[34. EXT. Hamilton Avenue. Night.]

(The mobsters get out of the car, g*n drawn. Falzone smiles, and puts a finger to his lips to warn the others to be quiet. They approach the house.)

[35. INT. Fibonacci's house. Night.]

(Fibonacci reaches for the front door knob.)

Wife: Oh, honey?

Fibonacci: Yeah?

Wife: Can you change the timer on the sprinkler while you're out there?

Fibonacci: Oh, okay.

Wife: Love you.

Fibonacci: Love you, too.

[36. EXT. Hamilton Avenue. Night.]

(Falzone and his mobsters cross the street, g*n drawn. They have just got to the front garden when a siren sounds, and lights flash on.)

Police Officer: Freeze!

(Several vans unload with police officers, all drawing their g*n.)

Police Officer#2: Police! Drop your w*apon!

(They all shout 'Freeze'!, 'Drop your w*apon!', 'I said, drop it!')

(Several squad cars draw up, one of them is FBI.)

(Falzone is hand-cuffed, forced to his knees.)

[37. EXT. Fibonacci's house. Night.]

(Fibonacci leaves his house and sits on the bench on his porch. He opens his paper. It's a local edition: Topeka, Kansas.)

[38. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

(Abruzzi is on the telephone, a queue of inmates behind him.)

Abruzzi: Hi, it's John. You wanted to talk to me?

Maggio: Yeah. You hear the news? Falzone got popped last night. Up in Canada. International g*n charges, parole violation...he's in deep.

(Abruzzi looks across the yard at Michael, who is walking with Patterson.)

[39. INT. Infirmary. Day.]

Michael: You threw away your flowers.

Sara: Like I said, they don't last.

Michael: I don't think they're d*ad yet.

Sara: I don't like getting attached to things if I know they won't last. (she finishes his sh*t.) There you go.

Michael: Why are you so cynical?

Sara: Michael, I think there's cynicism and then there's realism.

Michael: And there's optimism. Hope, faith.

Sara: This coming from an eight-toed guy, locked in a penitentiary?

Michael: Toes are overrated.

Sara: Thank you for trying to make me smile. Not today.

Michael: You never know.

Sara: We're all set.

(She moves the wheeled chair over to her desk. Michael leaves the room. Sara turns around to find a paper rose on her desk. She picks it up and smiles.)

[40. INT. Cells. Day.]

(Abruzzi shoves past other inmates , in a hurry. He reaches Michael's cell, checks around for guards, then enters.)

Abruzzi: You and me have a lot to talk about, don't we, Fish? Seems Philly Falzone ran into some problem up in Canada. Just because of the information you gave him.

Michael: What kind of trouble?

Abruzzi: International g*n charges, parole violation. He's gonna go away for a long time.

Michael: How do you feel about that?

(Pause. Abruzzi tilts his head.)

Abruzzi: Pretty darn good.

(Michael smiles.)

Michael: And what about PI?

Abruzzi: We got that back too. Falzone paid Bellick yesterday, so we're good. For now.

Michael: It all worked out.

Abruzzi: Sure did.

Michael: Nicely done. You're a hell of an actor.

Abruzzi: Thank you. This helped. It's nice. Nice sh*t. (He hands Michael the photo of Veronica.) Where did you take it?

Michael: It's Lincoln's from back in the day. A camping trip or something. So when do we get back in that room?

Abruzzi: Right away.

Michael: Well, let's get to it.

Abruzzi: Yeah. Oh, there's one more thing. You are gonna give me Fibonacci once we're outside these walls, right?

(They look at each other for a moment.)

Michael: Of course.

Abruzzi: Thank you. And I think I'll keep this, as insurance.

[41. INT. Lincoln's cell. Day.]

(Lincoln lays on his bed, staring at the coded message from LJ.)

[Flashback:

(Lincoln is giving 5-year-old LJ his breakfast.)

Lincoln: More juice?

Young LJ: Why can't we have breakfast every day?

Lincoln: You should have breakfast every day, LJ. It's an important meal.

Young LJ: No, why can't I have breakfast with you every day?

Lincoln: Nothing would make me happier. But, uh...your mommy and me we don't live together any more.

Young LJ: Why?

Lincoln: Well, uh...sometimes that happens with mommies and daddies. But you know what? You're the luckiest boy in the world. Because your mommy loves you very much, and I love you very much. I tell you what, how about every Sunday, we have our own special breakfast. Just you and me. Yeah?

Young LJ: Yeah.

Lincoln: Little bit or a handful?

Young LJ: Handful.

Lincoln: Handful.

(He picks up a handful of blueberries and puts them in the pan.)

Lincoln: Here we go...]

(Lincoln opens his eyes and stares ahead.)

[42. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

(Abruzzi walks up behind Fiorello, who is sitting at a table with some buddies.)

Abruzzi: Take a walk.

(Fiorello gets up and walks away.)

Abruzzi: Anyone else wanna walk with him?

(Nobody moves.)

Abruzzi: Yeah. This is my game.

(He sits and gets out his cards.)

[43. EXT. Prison yard. Day.]

Westmoreland: Looks like our friend got his throne back.

Michael: Looks like it.

Westmoreland: Something tells me we may have you to thank for that.

Michael: You don't wanna know.

Westmoreland: You got that right.

(C-Note comes up to them.)

C-Note: Stretch your legs, old head.

(Westmoreland walks away. C-Note sits down, opens his hand on the table and pours out a handful of concrete fragments.)

C-Note: Now, we got a hell of a lot to talk about, don't we?

(Michael reaches out and brushes them off the table.)

Michael: I got nothing to say.

C-Note: You think you can play me, Snowflake? 'Cause you got college? Big-school learning, huh? Well, let me school you. Darwin wins inside these walls. Not Einstein, Darwin.

Patterson: Yard time's over ladies. Let's line it up.

C-Note: I'm not done with you, Fish.

Michael: You never even got started.

(C-Note turns around, gives him a knowing smile. Michael scuffs the concrete fragments into the ground with his boot.)

[44. INT. Break room. Day.]

Michael: All right, we're through the hard part. Another 18 inches, we'll h*t that pipe. We'll be there by Friday.

Sucre: Friday?

Michael: Better start making travel arrangements.

Sucre: Maricruz, here I come, baby.

Abruzzi: Sardinia, here I come.

Lincoln: Where are we going?

Michael: Panama.

Lincoln: Panama.

Michael: Panama. Darien Gap, south of the canal. No roads, no electricity. No cops. Nothing but white sand beaches and ice cold beer.

Lincoln: Well, that's nice, but what about our lives?

Michael: Well, we'll open a scuba shop.

Lincoln: Hey, I don't dive.

Michael: Neither do I. We'll have plenty of time to learn.

(T-Bag knocks on the door.)

T-Bag: Bulls.

(Bellick walks in, followed by C-Note.)

Bellick: This con says he's on a job in here.

Abruzzi: No, I don't think so.

Bellick: You heard the paisana. Move your ass.

C-Note: CO, hold on one second.

(He walks purposefully over to the hole and stands right over it. The board creaks.)

C-Note: Now, you sure about that? You sure you can't use an extra hand?

(He taps his foot for further emphasis. Michael runs his hands through his hair.)

Abruzzi: You know anything about construction?

C-Note: Concrete is my specialty. Can you dig it?

(Michael nods his head.)

Abruzzi: Okay, boss. Sign him up.

Bellick: You got it.

(He leaves. C-Note looks at Michael.)

C-Note: Now it looks like Darwin wins after all, eh, Fish?

[45. INT. Cabin. Day.]

Nick: I have a lot of dots, but no way to connect them. Nobody's getting rich here.

Veronica: What about shareholders?

Nick: Well, profits, they were all converted back to shares.

Veronica: Looks like they subcontracted out some research and development, but it's pennies in the grand scheme of things. Nobody was pulling in early retirement.

Nick: Yeah well, you can't hide $500 million dollars just by moving a few decimal points.

(He turns up the TV. Someone is reporting at the campaign stand.)

Reporter: 'In a move anticipated by many, Vice-President Reynolds has announced she is running for the presidency. She made the announcement from her hometown of Montgomery, Illinois.'

Caroline (on TV): 'The move toward worldwide peace and prosperity is a marathon,. not a sprint. But I assure you, America will be setting the pace.

Veronica: A half a billion dollars doesn't just disappear. You could run a small country with that money.

Reporter: 'The vice president is reported to have the largest campaign w*r chest in history. It is so large, in fact, that prognosticators are already casting her as the favorite in the presidential race'.

Nick: Maybe not a small country. Maybe this one.

(Camera pans out of the window, through the trees, to show Quinn standing there watching the cabin.)

END CREDITS.
{"type": "series", "show": "Prison Break", "episode": "01x10 - Sleight of Hand"}