Chapter 54:

What the hell was I doing?

Handcuffed, riding in the back seat of Alexander Mahone's car. The man who butchered my family.

For most of the trip, we rode in silence, with me staring out the window, contemplating.

That news story danced through my memory almost in disbelief that Abruzzi would do that.

Well, not complete disbelief, it was John Abruzzi. But there were children involved.

I helped him, with not one but two escapes. He would have strolled right into that hotel room in search of Fibonacci and probably would have ended up dead because of it. But I called him, and warned him to stay away. Would the Fibonacci family still be alive if I hadn't?

Pulling my attention away from the window, I noticed that Mahone was making short glances in my direction, as if double checking to make sure I was still back there.

"If I help you, we are going to do it my way." I stated.

Mahone narrowed his eyes at me through the rear view mirror, "you are in no position to be making demands."

"Then good luck finding them." I immediately responded. "You've met Michael and so far he has outsmarted you at every turn. With my help you'll have a chance, albeit a small one, of catching him off guard enough to make an arrest. I will help you with a location, but the best route would be to notify him that I am meeting up with him."

"How would you notify him?"

I loudly sucked in my breath purposely not revealing too much information. If I was going to partake in this, it had to be on my terms. We engaged in a staring contest for a while. We were both two stubborn people unwilling to give in.

"Of course, that means I would also need to go with you." I stated.

He snorted as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Too bad for him it was all or nothing with this.

"There is no way I can allow this." He stated calmly, but firmly.

"Then I guess we are finished." I responded in the same manner.

He sneered and went back to ignoring me. It was clear that he was deep in thought trying to figure out his next move. He needed Michael Scofield, but had no idea where to start. His shoulders caved downward trying to regain his composure as we reached our destination.

The pace of my breathing started to quicken when I recognized the bureau office. The last time I had set foot in this building was right before I went into Fox River…

With my dad…

Mahone had been staring at me again, but I hadn't realized it. I was too busy trying to swallow back every feeling I had to some part deep inside of me where it couldn't bubble out, but failing pretty miserably. Leaving a federal agent and returning practically a convict was a damaging thought. The handcuffs around my wrists suddenly felt heavier.

When I finally turned my attention back to Mahone he was still staring. Watching me. Reading me. My every thought out in the open for him to dissect. I kept my eyes fixed on him as he exited the car and moved closer to my door. When he opened the door, he stared down at me with an almost concerned look. I thought he might say something.

Instead, he grabbed the bottom of my elbow and hoisted me from the car. I gasped at the burning sensation in my arm from the force. I had to crane my head completely backwards to look up at him the way he towered over me. He was trembling slightly as he removed the keys from his pocket and released me from my cuffs.

"I think it will look less suspicious if I don't haul you in looking as though it's against your will."

There was a challenging look in my eyes, but I remained quiet. There was little doubt in my mind that we would stroll in almost like partners and Mahone would develop this elaborate story. Once, I only dreamed about working with Alexander Mahone, but now it made me feel ill.

"Who exactly are you trying to convince?" I scoffed.

His first response was pushing me towards the building. My head was throbbing as every footstep forward felt like waddling through wet cement.

"You were the one who agreed to come." He chirped keeping within close proximity, clearly without trust.

"Oh yes. Being held at gunpoint and guilt ridden for the behavior of criminals is sure to bring out the active participation in everyone."

We were nearing the front entrance of the building and all I wanted to do was turn and run the other direction. The last time I was at this building I was fresh out of training, eagerly awaiting my new assignment. Melanie and my father both still alive. Each step I took was met with flashes of my time in Fox River leading up to right now when Mahone pulled open the door.

The inside of the building looked pretty much the same, but more chaotic with people frantically moving about trying to coordinate their efforts to track down the escaped convicts. Much to my relief, no one really took notice of us, people probably came in and out of here consistently. Mahone nudged me forward from behind and I released the breath I had been holding. We moved slowly through the room when people first took notice of Mahone, but it was only a matter of time before the girl in the sling was spotted.

The whispers were rampant, "That's Laney Collins."

"I didn't even think she was still alive. Too bad about her father."

"She was with them in Fox River, rumor is she helped with the escape."

If I looked dazed, it's because I was, the only sense of direction I had was Mahone guiding me to a private room towards the back. He shut the door to the room, where there was a large silver table with several chairs surrounding. Mahone placed me on the side where I was sitting completely alone on one side and four other chairs on the other side.

I gave him an incredulous look.

"You should have expected they would want to talk to you." was his only reply.

"You mean interrogate," I said with a smile some might consider sinister.

He turned and looked at me fully, like the way he was looking at me in the car. It made me sit back in the chair.

"Are you sure you can handle this?" He quizzed.

Because I couldn't tell them the whole truth. They needed to believe that I had a minimal to no part in the escape. That I was along for the ride. But, Mahone really wanted reassurance that I would not try to whistle blow him for also working with this Company and that he was actually trying to kill us all. That he already killed my dad and Melanie.

His relief would have to wait because I didn't get a chance to answer before other federal agents came barreling into the room. To my surprise, though, they didn't even acknowledge me.

"Mahone, have you lost your goddamn mind? You have been near missing in action for two days and then just stroll on through with Laney Collins like it's no big deal."

"As luck would have it, I was tracking a lead to Scofield and Burrows when I happened upon Ms. Collins. Her instincts appear to as solid as ever for she was following the same lead. She was determined to maintain her position, but after some convincing she decided to return and give us invaluable information." Mahone painted his lie with such ease.

It made my cringe, inwardly.

"None of this follows protocol!" The agent was becoming irate. "The moment she felt like she could get away she should have turned herself in to be vetted. You can't just bring her in here and expect us to catch her up to speed. Christ, she's not even cuffed! We have no idea if she's still in cover or has defected."

I really didn't like this guy. I felt like giving these agents a piece of mind, but it would get me nowhere. I impressed even myself with my ability to sit quietly just staring at the group in front of me.

"So, talk to her." Stated Mahone.

They finally turned their full attention to me. I stared back, but it was more of a disinterested look. No one said anything, maybe they were unsure what they were supposed to say or ask. I stole a glance over towards Mahone.

"You could cuff me to the chair if it makes you feel better. Although, with only one arm in commission, I don't pose much of a threat." I finally broke the silence.

No one even cracked a smirk. Tough crowd.

"How did you injure arm, Ms. Collins?" They were all still standing.

"Abruzzi. I've been told I have a smart mouth that gets me into trouble."

The man questioning me furrowed his brow as if trying to process what he was hearing or just processing me in general.

"Are you still, under cover?"

I didn't answer right away. I wasn't sure if that would hurt me or help me. My brain was wrestling with itself on just how truthful to be.

"Yes, and no." I was met with more quizzical stares. "They found out during the escape that I was a federal agent, so initially they treated me like a hostage. But over time, I think they think they've won me over."

"Have they won you over?" Many of them finally took their seats.

"I like some of them as people. As in, they're not inherently bad, but they have broken the law and deserve to be brought in."

That last answer may have been too honest.

I sat back further in my chair as I continued to be underneath their gaze.

"Ms. Collins. When the inmates first escaped from Fox River, we recovered several items from the convicts in the hopes it would lead us to where they might be hiding. We also recovered the journal you had been keeping with several of your undercover notes."

There wasn't exactly a question there, but I didn't respond before Mahone sniffed with this sidelong smirk that I wanted to smack off his face. I stared directly at him, challenging him.

"Rookie mistake, it's a wonder that your cover wasn't blown sooner. Keeping a diary detailing all of the inmates illegal activities is a sure fire way to make sure you end up in a body bag." He chided.

My face was starting to heat up as I felt like I was being put in time out. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest idea to keep a journal of everything, but did he really need to hash it out now? I narrowed my eyes toward Mahone as if to warn him that it would be in his best interest to not piss me off with the things I could share.

"This isn't about chastising Ms. Collins' mistakes during her undercover operation. At least not today." Another agent spoke up in a not comforting manner.

"I have a question for you Ms. Collins." The third agent piped. "You started your journal with very detailed notes, particularly about John Abruzzi."

"That's what I was assigned to do." I interrupted.

"However, the longer you remained in Fox River, your entries became less frequent and quite vague. And you never once mentioned the escape."

Even though I kept my eyes trained on the agent, I felt the urge to glance over to Mahone, but this was all going to fall on me to spin this story.

"There was nothing to write. I didn't find out about the escape until the night of."

"Nothing? You spent all that time around Abruzzi and the others and you never caught wind of the escape? Not even your instincts told you something was up?"

The mantra of remain calm played over and over again in my head, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as I felt attacked. Even though it was expected for me to be treated this way, it didn't feel good.

"Of course I suspected something." I stated defensively, "but I was kept out of the dark on most of it. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late to do anything but go along with it and try to bring them in later."

"But when you first suspected something why did you not report it to one of the guards or the warden?"

I made my face as blank as possibly, "I believe we already covered that I made some mistakes."

"Mistakes that cost the lives of countless innocent lives, including the life of…"

Don't say it.

"Your father."

My face remained like stone, unchanging.

My insides, however, were crumbling. I wanted to stand up and shout at the top of my lungs until there was no more oxygen left. Mahone shifted slightly in my vision, and I used all of my willpower to refrain from looking in his direction because if I looked at him, all the rage would come pouring out and I would blurt everything.

I tried to speak, but was unable so I had to try again, "He was still alive when I saw him. I suppose someone could have followed me there."

"You saw your father?" The questions were coming more rapid fire.

"Yes, I was with Bagwell, but managed to get back to Chicago. I went to my dad for guidance, if I should remain undercover or work publicly trying to apprehend them."

"And whoever followed you there, waited until you left to gun down Liam?"

No, he didn't wait. I was crouched behind the wall like a coward while a colleague gunned down my father. Would Mahone have tried to shot me too if I would have revealed myself? My body felt weak and I wasn't sure how many more questions I could handle before I snapped.

"Ms. Collins, to be frank, why should we trust you?"

My eyes narrowed that I was going to snap, but nothing came out of my mouth. The more the thoughts reeled through my head I couldn't bring myself to speak. I couldn't blame them for their untrustworthiness because the circle of those who I trusted was growing smaller and smaller with each passing day.

"Maybe you don't have to trust me," I finally breathed, "I know I've messed up a lot and you can trust me when I say that I'm dealing with what has happened every day. The one thing I know is that I just want all of the deaths of innocent people to stop. And I will bring the person responsible for killing my father to justice."

I could feel Mahone's gaze on me and I was completely serious in that last statement. If there was a way, he was going to answer for what he has done.

"I respect your sentiments," an agent spoke not sounding respectful at all, "but your actions, and honestly your demeanor suggest that you would be more detrimental to this search than helpful."

"If I may speak," Mahone chimed, "young Laney here has been with dangerous, convicted felons for months on end and was required to develop an aloof attitude for her survival. She was still in this mode when I recovered her, so without being properly debriefed, it's in my opinion that she's behaving as expected."

It was sickening to admit just how good he was at this.

"That may be, Alex, but the department can't risk any loose cannons or rogues on this one."

"So let's keep her on a tight leash. I'll keep an eye on her and if the information she provides us is sound she can earn more slack."

No one immediately refused Mahone's offer, but no one immediately agreed either. I chose to keep my mouth shut for the time being to see how this played out. If the office decided they didn't want my help, it was anyone's guess how Mahone would react.

Silently, as though they were reading each others minds, the agents all stood up to leave the room and speak privately. The look they gave me was one to remain seated.

They filed out of the room leaving me alone. Once the door shut, I exhaled so loudly they may have heard it. My head was pounding, shoulder throbbing and I felt like I could sleep for the next four days.

I was drained: physically, mentally and emotionally. The wear and tear was beginning to catch up with me and I was unsure of how much more I could actually push myself before I ran completely out of gas.


I remained seated for only a few moments, but it was solely Alexander Mahone that returned to the room. I couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad omen.

Before he came in, he put his glasses on. I didn't even know he wore glasses! It made him look far less intimidating, more intellectual. He seemed to catch on that I was staring.

"Follow me." He ordered.

I wanted to tell him where he could shove his request, but I held my tongue. I had to remember the environment I was in and if the other agents were to trust me and not arrest me, I had to play along. Although my nonverbal body language may have suggested otherwise, I pulled myself out of the seat and trudged along behind Mahone.

He moved quickly, as though not wanting to seen, which made no sense to me. He maneuvered his way through the office until we reached a back door that Mahone threw open to reveal a set of deep stairs. Wordlessly, he paced down the stairs when I significantly slowed up my steps. I never even asked him what those other agents said. If they agreed to let me work with him or not. What if he was taking me down here to murder me and stage it in some sort of defensive manner?

My heart was beating rapidly by the time we reached the bottom of the stairs and I was trying to think of any way to protect myself. I could try to kick him in his more sensitive areas or headbutt him but my safest bet was to scream for help.

Loudly.

Unless the room was sound proof.

Mahone no doubt sensed the apprehension washing over me in waves. As he opened the door, he finally turned to look at me.

"You did good up there. You know how to handle yourself under pressure."

I didn't respond. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Gee, that means so much coming from you?

Mahone didn't push the issue further and moved into the room and I trailed. His stuff was everywhere, followed by just about every bit of information you would want on the Fox River eight. I would have guessed with his credentials they would have put him in a nicer office.

"It's quiet down here. Helps me think better." He said like some sort of mind reader.

I moved further into the room and took in all of Mahone's notes. There was a massive calendar listing day by day nearly every move of the escape to nearly every move after. Pictures of all us were plastered on the walls with notes about our personal histories and where we might likely end up. The only thing next to my picture were three question marks.

The picture of me felt like a completely different lifetime. It was taken by Melanie when the two of us took off on a 2 week road trip. My dad was furious! In the picture I was glancing upwards at Melanie with the goofiest grin on my face back when my hair was still long.

Before it was chopped off.

Before I went undercover.

When I was young and naive.

I lifted my finger and dabbed the corners of my eyes at the memory. Turning away, because I had to focus my attention elsewhere, I glanced over to where the pictures of the Fox River eight and the others involved were clipped to the wall.

It was all of their mugshots and if these were the shots released to the public, everyone had a right to be scared. Tbag's looked as though he freshly slaughtered a massive group of people. Several of the pictures stood out, though. Westmoreland, Manche, and Haywire all had red marks crossed through them.

"Haywire?" I muttered.

I hadn't seen him since the escape and to be honest, I really didn't think about him.

"He took his own life when we tracked him down to a grain elevator. I guess he couldn't take the guilt anymore and jumped."

That response was enough to earn a sidelong glance from me. Haywire rarely seemed like the guilty type to me. And I didn't trust Mahone in the least. My eyes drifted further down the wall to where my eyes caught the marked out picture of C-note.

"It appeared that Benjamin Miles Franklin couldn't take the guilt of what he put his family through either and hung himself in the jail cell when he was apprehended."

"No." I blurted unable to stop myself. "His only motivation was for his family and there is absolutely no way he would kill himself and abandon them."

"Yes, well his wife was arrested as an accessory and he nearly got his daughter killed because of his selfishness."

"Stop it." My voice started raising. "What you've already told me, please do NOT lie to me, or I refuse to help you in anyway."

"Honestly, I don't think you are in any position to make demands of me. All of those people up there will have no problem turning on you with a word from me."

"What's the point of all of this?" I asked swing by good arm around. "How did you get involved with them?"

"I made a choice and the wrong people found about it." Was all he would share.

"Sort of like what you're doing to me."

There was a moment of silence between us as he registered my statement and I registered his. I could understand trying to make up for the consequences of a poor decision, but nothing could make up for what he was doing now.

A tap on the door interrupted the moment and a man smaller in stature emerged. He looked young, perhaps new to agency and looked slightly petrified to be standing in Mahone's presence.

"Spit it out." Mahone said rudely.

"Some new developments, sir. The guards found Benjamin Franklin trying to hang himself in his cell waiting for transport."

My throat was dry. I wasn't sure how much more death I could handle.

"A tragedy no doubt." Mahone tried to deflect. "If that's all, we really need to get back to finding those convicts that are still alive and fleeing."

"You don't understand, sir. They rushed him to the hospital and it was a close call but he is going to make a full recovery."

Out of relief, I closed my eyes for the briefest of moments. Mahone didn't visibly react but there was little doubt in my mind that he was shaken by this turn of events. That's what worried me, desperation made people dangerous.

"Also, Sara Tancredi was apprehended fleeing the custody of Agent Lang. They thought she was heading towards Michael Scofield, but he and his brother seemed to have disappeared after the announcement of the the President's resignation."

There was so much information to digest in that comment that I had to replay it over again in my head. President Reynolds announced she was retiring? The Company probably wouldn't appreciate that with how much involvement she had in all of this. Did Michael have a hand in that? But he wouldn't just disappear without Sara so how did they become separated to the point where she was caught?

And what happened to David?

Mahone dismissed the messenger and turned his back to me, probably so I could see him completely panicking. He was at the most risk with C-note still being alive to blow the whistle on him. I was more concerned with the disappearance of the brothers and potentially David. I knew they would most likely try to leave the country and would be much harder to track when gone.

Mahone turned to face me and I stared at him hard until he was so uncomfortable he had to look away,

"I guess you'd better watch out too, those people upstairs just might turn on the both of us."