29. Deal or No Deal
"What's your fucking problem, Burrows?"
Cradling the phone to his ear, Lincoln flinched. "I'm great. What's your fucking problem?"
"You're not great," Paul Kellerman said. "I've asked you the same question three times now, and you're still not listening. You need to focus if we're going to pull this off."
Lincoln licked his bottom lip. Douchebag was right—he was distracted. All he could think about was LJ currently in the possession of the FBI. Sure, Alex had promised that Lang was legit, but it didn't make Lincoln feel any better. He was still suspicious of Alex Mahone and his FBI cronies.
"What's your question again?" Lincoln asked. He vaguely recalled their discussion about Michael fixing Scylla, which had its own worrisome aspects. The UN had no clue that Michael had limited use of his injured hands and even less access to his vanished LLI.
Paul sighed. "We need to know if Michael will work from the inside, do what he does best. Once we get him out of there, we think he'll only need a few hours to get Scylla up and running again."
"Wait a minute." His stomach dropped. "You're talking escape? You want Michael to break out of the hospital, right out from under the FBI's nose?"
"It's the only way, Burrows. We've tried to negotiate with the FBI, but we're running up against a stone wall. I promise the UN will smooth things over with the feds once he does this for us. I'm sure they'll exonerate him."
"Your promises mean jack shit."
Paul listened to the snorting bull on the line.
Finally Lincoln spoke. "Let's say Michael agrees to the escape. Which he won't. What do you need him to do?"
"You said you have a female doctor on the inside, right?" Kellerman chuckled as he remembered Sara's assistance in Fox River. "Michael's sure good at this scenario. Anyway, we get the doctor to distract the police officer, get his keys somehow—"
Lincoln ended the call.
From the kitchen, Karina studied Lincoln, who was red-faced and muttering swear words. She crossed over to the sofa.
"Hey." She came up behind him and stroked his tense neck. "It'll be okay."
Across the room, Ben pretended to focus on his Algebra homework, but kept his eye on LJ's dad. The man was like a caged cougar, all coiled and ready to pounce, jacking up Ben's anxiety with his mom so close.
"It's won't be okay," Lincoln said. "No deal. No way in hell we'll let Kellerman hang us out to dry—"
The vibration in his hand cut him off, and he gave the phone a hard stare before answering.
"Don't ever hang up on me again," Paul raged.
"No way your escape plan happens. Michael won't stand for it, and neither will I."
"Where'd your brother's balls go? He doubts he can pull off another escape? It's a goddamn unsecured hospital, for chrissake!"
Lincoln's fists twitched with the desire to pound him. "This has nothing to do with Michael. We're not getting more people killed, trying to save our own asses. Find some other way to get him to Scylla."
"Do you want your brother in prison for the rest of his life?"
"Yes. Yes I do, Paul."
As Lincoln blew out a breath of hot air, he felt Karina's warm hands on the back of his neck, kneading his taut muscles. He tried to relax. "Listen, Kellerman, you're working with the freaking UN and you're telling me they have no sway with the feds? Let them figure something out."
"The UN has less power than you think. They're a bunch of fucking pansies, actually. Once I get Scylla back on track, I'm hightailing it out of here."
"Oh yeah? And who'll you kiss up to next?"
"An organization with some actual influence in this world—definitely not the UN."
"You miss all the power, don't you? Framing people for murder, killing bishops, banging the President of the United States . . ."
That last comment caused Ben's head to snap up and Karina's hands to freeze on Lincoln's skin.
"Who made you my damn career counselor?" Paul hissed. "Let's get back on track. You need to convince Michael to escape from that hospital."
"No! It's not fair to ask us to take on all the risk. What if Michael gets killed trying to get out of there? You need to convince the FBI to let Michael have a go at Scylla."
"It's not going to happen."
Lincoln narrowed his eyes. "Then I guess it's no deal."
"Call me when you stop being such a stubborn asshole, you son of a bitch."
"I'll get right on that, Douchebag—"
This time Kellerman was the one to hang up.
Lincoln shook his head. "Swear to God, I hate that guy."
Karina's hands slid down to Lincoln's muscular shoulders and stroked the tension away.
"Ohhhh." He exhaled, closed his eyes, and leaned back on the sofa.
"That didn't go so well," she said.
"We're screwed."
"You said something about not getting more people killed? What'd you mean by that?"
Lincoln's eyes opened and he sat up straight, leaning away from Karina. "Nothing."
"Lincoln." She circled around the sofa and sat. "Talk to me. What's Kellerman's plan?"
Ben gave up all pretense of doing homework and joined them on the chair next to the sofa.
Looking from one set of curious hazel eyes to another, both framed by honey-blond hair, Lincoln slumped. "He wants you to get the cop's keys and help Michael escape from the hospital, so he can fix Scylla."
"Kewl," Ben marveled.
"It's not cool!" Lincoln bellowed. "Because there's no way it's happening." He tensed when he noticed her frown. "You don't have to worry, Kar. We'd never put you in that kind of danger. I told Kellerman to keep trying with the FBI—"
"I think I could do it," she said.
"What?" Lincoln recoiled.
She continued, "If it's Larry, I think it could work."
"Who the hell's Larry?"
"Oh—Officer Lutz." Her face flushed as a scheme crystallized. "I've caught him checking out my boobs a couple of times. I could probably seduce him to get his keys, if he's the one guarding Michael at the time."
Lincoln stared at Karina with his jaw unhinged. There were so many things wrong with what she'd just said that he had no idea where to start. He was most bowled over, surprisingly, by a flush of jealousy heating his face. How dare that fat cop check out Karina's luscious bazongas!
He couldn't help but sneak a peek at her buxom chest to admire the mounds of flesh that were certainly more than a handful. And Lincoln had large hands.
Catching Ben's enthusiasm for the suggested capers brought Lincoln back to earth. He glared at Karina. "Hell, no. You're not going near that Larry guy."
"Well, why not?"
"Because Michael won't allow it. I won't allow it."
"Michael's burns get better every day, and pretty soon I'll have to release him." Karina frowned. "This might be our last chance before he goes to super-max."
"Are you blind to what's happened to Sara? She's almost died countless times, all because she left a door unlocked back in Fox River. Do you want that to happen to you? To be shot at, get arrested, fight off assassins in prison, almost lose your baby—all because of one choice you made to help someone? Someone who probably doesn't deserve your help in the first place?"
Her jaw lowered. "Are you saying I'd risk leaving Ben without a parent? I'd never act unless I was sure it'd work!"
"And how the hell would you know that? Have you ever done something like this before? That cop won't just hand over his keys, you know."
Their shouts had escalated and Lincoln noticed Ben was wide-eyed and trembling. Given that his father had died when he was only three, the boy had probably never witnessed a domestic dispute before. Unlike LJ.
Lincoln bolted off the couch and prowled over to the sliding glass door, retreating to the balcony.
"Ben, honey, sorry for all the yelling." She took a deep breath. "How about you do your homework in your room?"
He chewed on his lip. "If you get arrested, where will I stay?"
Her face fell. "Oh, Ben." She reached out to smooth one hand down the side of his face, relieved he let her. "Lincoln's right. I wouldn't know the first thing about stealing a police officer's keys. I just . . . want to help? The thought of LJ's uncle rotting away in prison is horrifying."
Ben nodded. "I get it, Mom." He went over to the kitchen table and scooped up his Algebra textbook. "It'll work out. They've survived this far, right?"
She smiled faintly as he retreated to his bedroom. "Right."
~~ o*o ~~
From the parking lot of a nearby restaurant, a man adjusted his binoculars as he got a better look at the high-rise apartment building. He was careful not to touch his sensitive face. He'd almost passed out from accidentally brushing the back of his hand across his scorched cheek.
This was the third physician he'd staked out, and he prayed Dr. Karina Daniels wouldn't represent strike three in his search.
Only a week ago he'd researched local burn specialists in desperation to get his face back. His Internet search had revealed about fifty physicians specializing in Burn/Trauma/Surgical Critical Care, but only five had received "Best Physician" ratings in a recent Miami magazine poll. On those five he focused.
Preparing to schedule an appointment, he tried to drum up a plausible cover story for the burns he'd sustained. He could hardly tell the truth: a bomb exploded from a computer device he himself had stolen.
It was then he'd had an epiphany. Who else would need medical assistance for burns? The man responsible for planting said bomb! Michael Scofield had also been burned—electrical burns—according to media reports. He was likely out there somewhere, getting help from a burn specialist.
Maybe he could find a doctor and a target for his vengeance in one fell swoop.
A revenge plan had begun to take shape. Too bad Christina wasn't around. She'd been the best strategist of them all.
He looked up to the apartment balconies, counting three over from the left. There was Daniels' apartment. He sat back in the driver's seat and waited.
~~ o*o ~~
"How're you doing?" Karina slid the glass door shut behind her. The humid air had a twinge of coolness to it on this late November afternoon, and she shivered while leaning on the railing, gazing out at the marina.
Lincoln wasn't as cool. His face was still flushed, and he seemed too angry to talk, managing only a grunt in response.
She bit her lip and tapped the railing with her fingertips, marshaling the courage to speak to him. "I'm not often wrong." Her mouth tightened. "But this time I was." She took a deep breath and turned to him. "I was wrong. It was stupid of me to think I could outmaneuver the police. If you don't want me to help Michael escape, I won't."
He got off the chair and stepped closer. "You offered to help. I . . . I love that you did that. You care about Michael, I can see that, and it means a lot to me. He and LJ are the only people I have left."
His coarse fingers retreated from view as his hands balled up in fists. "It's just . . . I know what they're capable of—the company, law enforcement—sometimes it feels like they're one and the same . . . I just don't want anything to happen to you."
"Lincoln, I get it. Sara, Sofia . . ."
His deep blue eyes were like a stormy sea, and he exhaled with a grunt. "You don't even know about Veronica."
Hearing the emotion in his voice, she nudged closer. "Who's Veronica?"
He seized the railing with a death-grip, the muscles in his forearms rippling. "She was . . ." How on earth could he explain? Childhood sweetheart? Love of his life? His attorney? The woman who cared more about him than anyone else? "She was . . . everything to me." He swallowed hard as his face darkened. "I was on the phone with her when they executed her. They shot her point blank."
Karina gasped. Not knowing what else to do, she gathered Lincoln in her arms. She leaned into his solid body and rested her chin on his chest as she stroked his back. "I'm so sorry," she murmured. "You've lost so much."
The heat from their argument lingered, sparked hotter by the comfort she gave him when he needed it most. After a long minute, he pulled back to stare into her beautiful hazel eyes. She gazed up at him with warmth. He'd lost so much, but he'd found her. He needed her. Drawn to her, his lips pulsed into hers.
She jumped a bit, shocked by the kiss, but then eased into him, feeling the rough stubble of his face against hers as they held the lip-lock for a few glorious moments. His full lips were surprisingly soft, and his caresses electrified her skin with a pleasant tingle.
When he let her go, his rustic scent still flooded her. The intensity in his eyes held her captive. His voice was deep yet soft. "I hope to God Ben didn't see that."
"Who?" Karina replied, making them both grin.
~~ o*o ~~
Magnified through his binoculars, the balcony kiss played out for the man like a juicy soap opera rendezvous. Evidently, the third time was a charm.
When he spoke to himself, he barely moved his charred lips. "Dr. Daniels, you led me right to them, didn't you? I think I'll require your services, too. And the company you keep—I'll need something from them as well." His smile sent shooting pains across his face.
~~ o*o ~~
"I've got some news," Blue Phillips said once the guard left.
Michael braced himself.
"The gunman who came after Sara in Costa Rica—he was the same man who killed Sofia Lugo in Panama."
A chill went up Michael's spine. Sara. She could have easily been killed, just like Sofia.
"And the reason that we know that is . . ." Blue paused. "Because Costa Rican police arrested the killer in the beach house . . . along with Sara Tancredi and Fernando Sucre."
Michael sucked in a gulp of air. "Sara was arrested? Is she all right? Where is she? In Costa Rica?"
Blue held up a hand. "She's on her way here. The FBI has extradited her to the states."
His stomach twisted.
"This is good news, Michael. Sara will have her chance in court now."
"This is not good news—she's in danger! The company won't stop till they kill her. They won't stop till they kill us all."
"I'll do everything I can to protect her."
"You don't understand." Michael strained against the chains. "You can't stop them! I'm the only one who can protect her . . ." He froze. "What about the baby? She's supposed to be on bed rest."
"Don't worry—LJ said Agent Lang's following doctor's orders."
"LJ? How in the world is he involved?" The chains clanked once again.
"He went down there to identify the company assassin."
"The FBI has him, too? What about Linc?"
"Lincoln's fine, and LJ will be, too. Costa Rican police already released Fernando Sucre."
Michael's mind whirred. "When's Sara supposed to get to Miami?"
"Any minute now."
"Where're they taking her?"
Blue grimaced. "They won't tell me. But since I'm her counsel, they'll have to tell me soon."
"Blue, you have to get me out of here." Michael looked up at him. "I have to get to Sara—the FBI can't protect her."
"Such little faith in us, Scofield," Todd scolded as he entered the hospital room with a smug grin.
Michael glared at him, and Blue's look wasn't kind, either.
Sidling up to the bed, Todd shook his head. "Damn, sounds like you already know about Sara being apprehended. I so wanted to tell you that myself." He shrugged. "Too bad."
"Where're they taking her?" Michael asked.
Todd's eyes bugged. "Do you honestly think I'd tell you that?" He glanced at the empty IV stand. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were still doped up on pain meds."
"You've got to keep her hidden from the company! They want her dead."
"Oh relax, Scofield. Plenty of people want you dead, but you're still breathing. You've done quite okay under our protection."
Michael's jaw clenched. "If something happens to Sara . . ."
"You'll do what?" Todd retorted. "What're you going to do to me, Scofield? Beat me in a game of chess?" When his phone rang, he held up one finger. "Hold that thought. Or, should I say, hold that threat."
"Wheatley," he crisply answered, then nodded. "I've been waiting to hear from you. How'd it go? . . . Good, good . . ." His voice sharpened. "What the hell were you thinking, Felicia? . . . Just hold on, I'll be right there."
"Damn it!" Todd frowned at Michael. "We'll finish this convo later, boys." He left.
Michael slumped back in the bed and closed his eyes. "Sara's not safe. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it."
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Danger lurks around every corner in Prisneyland. :-o
