"This way!" Michael grunted with a powerful grip on Sara's arm as they ran. Two sets of manly black boots thundered across the dusty path of the Panama streets while Sara's brown flats slapped against the dry dirt. Michael threw a look over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised together and his mouth hanging open as he panted, amazed by the man's persistence.
"He can't touch us in Panama," Lincoln reminded Michael when they halted in a dank alleyway. He double over, gripping his sides as he gasped for much needed air. He slumped backwards and his back collided with a cool, uneven brick wall that was the outside of one of the many local restaurants.
"He's right Michael," Sara gasped, reaching out to lay a hand on Michael's tense shoulder. Her tied up hair had been shaken loose from running and she brushed it quickly from her face with a swipe of her delicate palms. "Mahone can't arrest us here," she panted and her face painfully grimaced as her lungs burned for air.
"He's not here to arrest us," Michael panted. Michael flattened his back against the wall, the hard ruddy brick digging into his skin through his thin shirt. His palms flattened out beside him as he flickered his gaze around the corner and into the bustling street they had run down. Catching no sight of Mahone his eyes lingered across the crowd, searching for the tell tale black suit, white shirt and stylish glasses of an FBI agent. Instead Michael's eyes fixated on a ragged looking suit that displayed patches of dust, a dirty shirt and unhidden, tired eyes that burned with hatred and desperation. Michael spun back around the corner as Mahone spun and caught him looking.
"We have to split up," Michael screamed with urgency, taking a step towards Sara and holding her arms tightly. "Go with Lincoln," he instructed her, his wide eyes searching her surprised face. Sara mouth hung open and she stood frozen and confused. "When you reach the end of the alley, split up again. It's me he wants," Michael said sadly, his deep voice crackling on every breath he drew in harshly as he gazed over his shoulder to the alleyway mouth.
Lincoln tugged on Sara's arm and her head darted between the brother's as he feet shuffled away from Michael. Michael instinctively stepped with her but stopped himself, his face spinning to meet hers once more. "We'll meet up later," Lincoln told Michael over Sara, his raspy, dust coated throat causing an echo in the tight alleyway. Michael gave him a nod and his feet skipped into step as he jogged out of the alleyway and into the crowd.
Lincoln and Sara ran down the alleyway, Sara's hand in Lincoln's as his gripped at hers furiously. He wasn't about to lose his little brother's entire life meaning with a flimsy grip. Above their heads freshly rung washing hung high on lines between the buildings and the sun cast awkward lines across the dirt as they ran. They rounded a corner just as Mahone stepped to the entrance of the alley, staring an angered glance between where they were and where Michael had gone.
Sara's eyes met his as they disappeared around the brickwork and she saw nothing but a shell of a man who had nothing left to live for. With a forceful step, Mahone stepped into the alley, gripped at his gun in his hip holster and popped open the tiny leather strap that held the weapon in place. He held his gun to his side, unashamed of being seen and unafraid of the consequences of his actions.
"He's coming after us," Sara breathed as they pounded down the alley. Lincoln's feet skidded to a halt and he searched the alleyway for anything that would help them get away from him. Where they stood the alley split four ways like a crossroads, only in front of them was a dead end. "Lincoln!" Sara urged him with heaving breath, her eyes darting to where they had come from, anticipating the appearance of Mahone at any time.
"I'm thinking!" he bellowed with clenched eyes and a half clenched fist. Lincoln had to admit he wasn't great at the thinking sides of life and he swore his forehead physically felt constricted with thought. "Ok," he said finally pointing a muscled arm down one side of the alley. "Go that way, I'll go this way," he threw a thumb over his shoulder and dragged his feet backwards through the dust.
Sara nodded and burst into sprint as she ran away from Lincoln, their beings becoming further apart as he ran in the opposite direction. They both reached a corner and turned. Lincoln went left, while Sara ran right, dragging her slightly dry hands around the brickwork of the corner and spying a gap in the wall ahead. Lincoln pressed himself between two buildings that had slipped together over time, into a dark crevice that was easy to miss and would hide him well if he went in further.
Sara shot a quick glance behind her as she latched her fingers onto the edge of the wall and dragged her body into the space. She collided with a broad body, a small gasp escaping her throat as her eyes were unaware of Lincoln's presence in the dark. Lincoln shuffled sideways in surprise and ended up pressed against Sara in the darkness. Their eyes met and Sara's chest rose and fell with each panicked breath she took, her crushed bosom elevated up her body by Lincoln's mass and resting awkwardly against his well formed chest.
Lincoln reached up a powerful hand and clamped in over Sara's mouth, snaking his other to the small of her back where he pulled her closer to him and encouraged her to sidestep with him further into the darkness of the crevice. Heavy footprints could be heard in the alleyway and a dull clicking sound signified the cocking of a standard issue .9mm firearm.
Mahone lifted his feet gingerly and stalked down the alley with his body hunched and both hands on his loaded weapon. His head moved from side to side like a mantis, his intense blue stare wide and twitching in anticipation of movement. He slowly circled around in the alley, his finger resting gently on the trigger of the cold, metal gun.
Sara and Lincoln remained silent and pressed together in the crack, their bodies touching where they had never dreamed they would touch. Lincoln's eyes, having adjusted to the light, darted over Sara's face and her petrified hazel orbs as she stared back up at him on baited breath. Lincoln's eyes darted between hers and her heaving breasts as she struggled for more air, eagerly sucking in air through tiny gaps in between his fingers pressed over her fragile mouth.
Lincoln lifted his other hand and pressed a thick finger to his pursed lips, hushing her laboured breathing with pleading eyes. Their knees bumped together as he rearranged himself uncomfortably, a solid warmth brushing Sara's thigh. Sara looked at him puzzled and had it not been dark, she would have sworn his cheeks had flushed briefly with red.
A rattling can down the alley made them both jump up in surprise and Sara squeezed her eyes closed, embarrassed by Lincoln's erection pressed to her leg. Mahone spun in the dirt, tiny particles clinging to the front of his shiny but neglected shoes. He held his gun up to where he had walked into the alley and held his breath, steadying himself for a perfect shot. There was nothing, but a shadow caught his eye.
"Come on Alex," Michael coaxed quietly to himself, pushing off the wall and purposely making noise down the alley way as he led the agent away from his brother and partner. Mahone reached the edge of the wall and poked his head around quickly before replacing it with his gun, only to find it now deserted and noticeable footprints of big boots left in the dirty street. Mahone straightened his posture and replaced his gun in its holster and gritted his teeth in frustration.
"Scofield!" he raged into the alley, his voice bouncing off the walls until it escaped into the sky above him. A nearby trash can felt his wrath as he kicked it hard, leaving a foot sized dent in the side of it and stormed off towards the mouth of the alley.
Lincoln gently removed his hand from Sara's mouth and her erratic breathing filled the space between them. Lincoln's mouth opened slightly and the hotness of their breaths lingered in the minute gap between their faces. Lincoln's lips hovered above Sara's and his eyes darted down to where her sweet, kissable mouth was inviting his attention. Sara gazed up at him and without warning he reached two big paws to her face and crushed their mouths together.
As quickly as it had begun it ended with a smacking sound as their open mouths parted and they gasped for yet more needed air. Lincoln's licked his lips and Sara pushed against his shoulders, the tiny gap they were in only causing his hips to buck out towards her and press his length further into her. Sara fell sideways and stumbled into the open space of the alleyway, closely followed by Lincoln who appeared with a smirk.
"What the hell was that?" Sara asked defensively, pointing a fine finger into the gap they had just been born from. Lincoln grinned harder as he watched her finger closely.
"The last kiss of a dying man," he breathed, his voice deep and dry in the hot Panama atmosphere. Sara stared at him amazed for a second, his shear cheekiness too much for her to take in all at once.
"You are not dying Lincoln," she told him angrily, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. "And you're not going to," she added, quickly scanning the alley behind her for Michael, in case he saw.
"Relax Sara, it didn't mean anything," he told her casually with a smile. He placed his hands on his hips and inhaled hard, his body slowly returning to its regular respiration rate. Sara snorted, unable to hide her laughter anymore as he shook off their encounter. Lincoln cocked his head at her confused, his mouth twisting into a crooked smile. "What?" he asked intrigued.
"Nothing huh?" she teased, her own breathing taking it's time in returning to normal. She gripped at her sides, the tension on the muscles causing a stitch as the oxygen levels were depleted there.
"Not a thing," Lincoln told her with a nod of his head. Again, Sara's face shone with disbelief.
"You're raging erection begged to differ," she shot at him, letting a chuckle escape her lips as she breezed past him and headed to their secret meeting place where Michael would be waiting. Lincoln stared after her, shocked by her brashness and total unembarrassed comment.
"It was not raging," he pouted to himself before her fell into step behind her as they left the alley.