CHAPTER 50

"What's another word for love?" Martinez asked, later that day. Finn and Martinez were back in their cell and Martinez was writing a letter to his girlfriend. There were no electronics in the prison (obviously), so letters were the only way to communicate with loved ones.

"What's the context?" Finn asked.

"Oh, you know. The 'I love you so much, I ain't never knocking over a liquor store again' context. Except, you know, classy."

Finn chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm proposing to my girl, if you gotta know." Martinez explained.

"In a letter?" Finn asked.

"You got a better way?"

"Face to face works pretty good." Finn remarked.

"This place ain't exactly the romantic spot." Martinez responded. "I'm gonna have her go get on the Staten Island Ferry. Then, once she can see the Empire State Building, she opens the letter… it's almost like being there. Except for the fact that I won't be there."

"Try 'passion.'" Finn suggested.

"Ooh! Ooh! Passion! That's dope!" Martinez exclaimed. "How do you spell that? Is it P-A-S-H…"

"Uh uh." Finn murmured.

"What? No H?"

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The next day, Finn walked into the yard and over to the leader of P.I - John Abruzzi. Finn knew exactly who that man was. Abruzzi was a very high-ranking member of the Cleveland mafia. After his missions abroad, Finn had been briefed by the FBI about the main potential threats in the state and Abruzzi was very high on that list. But Finn was prepared for him. He knew Abruzzi's achilles heel, the thing he wanted more than anything.

"Abruzzi." Finn said, walking over to him. "I need you to hire me as a P.I. worker." Finn said.

"Beat it." Abruzzi growled, not even looking at him.

"Maybe you ought to hear what I got to say." Finn said.

"You got nothing I need." Abruzzi spat. Finn slid Abruzzi a sheet of paper, folded into an aeroplane shape. "Oh, my mistake. Just what I need… a paper plane." Abruzzi snapped, sarcastically.

"P.I., Abruzzi. You might find I can be of more assistance than you think. Mull it over. Come find me when you're finally ready to talk." Finn said before walking away.

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Later that day, Finn was sitting in the prison's medical bay, having a needle roughly shoved into his arm.

"I guess, being a diabetic, you don't mind needles." The doctor, Dr. Sarah Tancredi, remarked. That's right. Finn had written that he suffered from 'Type 1 diabetes' on his sign in forms. He didn't, but it would be vital when it came to his escape.

"I'm Finn, by the way." Finn said.

"Hudson. I know. I read your report."

"And you are?" Finn asked.

"Dr. Tancredi will do." She replied.

"Tancredi, like the governor?" Finn asked. "You're not related, are you? Huh. Wouldn't think you'd find the daughter of Frontier Justice Frank working in a prison. As a doctor, no less."

"I believe in being part of the solution, not the problem." She responded.

"Mm. Be the change you want to see in the world."

The doctor looked at him, strangely.

"What?" Finn asked as he noticed her expression.

"Nothing. That was just my senior quote."

"That was you? This whole time, I was thinking it was Ghandi." Finn joked. She chuckled.

"You're very funny. Sit tight. Put direct pressure on that. I'll be back in a sec." She said, handing Finn a tissue. Finn pressed it to his upper left arm. Moments later, Dr. Tancredi was back with some forms in her hands.

"So, how do we do this? You hook me up with a few weeks' supply?"

"Nice try. No hypos on the floor." She laughed.

"I'm the farthest thing from a junkie. Trust me." Finn murmured.

"I got news for you, Finn. Trust me means absolutely zero inside these walls. The only way you're getting that insulin is if I'm the one administering it."

"Guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, then, huh?" Finn remarked.

"I guess so."

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"The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified and, the third day, rise again. And they remembered his words, and so should you. Good day, gentlemen. May God be with you."

Finn listened to the end of the chapel service but he wasn't looking at the priest: he was watching Lincoln Burrows, who was sitting a couple of rows ahead. When Burrows turned around to leave, Finn looked him in the eye and the two of them walked towards each other.

"What?" Burrows asked, simply.

"We're getting out of here." Finn murmured. That's all he needed to say. Burrows understood immediately. It was like the two of them had known each other their whole lives. They had just met, but they immediately had full trust in each other for one simple reason: they had nothing to live for. Finn was serving life without parole and Burrows was getting executed in a month. If any two were to attempt a prison break, it would be them.

"Burrows! Happy hour is over! Let's move it!" One of the guards shouted to Lincoln.

"It's impossible." Lincoln whispered to Finn.

"Not if you know every inch of the place, it isn't." Finn responded.

With that, Lincoln was pulled away by a guard and Finn left the chapel.

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"Passion? What were you thinking?!" Martinez shouted. Finn shrugged.

"Hey, you went for it."

"She probably thinks I went sissy up in here." Martinez snapped. "Passion. You know, if it's got more than one syllable, too much talkin'. That's me from now on. One-syllable David. Yes. No. Love. Hate. Love."

"Give it time." Finn said.

"Are you kidding? I proposed to her! That doesn't take time! Si or no. One syllable, man. She's supposed to come for a conjugal on Tuesday. She's always calling me beforehand, letting me know she's coming. This time, man, I ain't heard a peep. You spooked her!"

Suddenly, there was a banging on the cell door as it unlocked, and Guard Bellick stuck his head into the cell.

"Hudson. The pope wants to see you."

The pop was a nickname for Henry Pope, the warden of the maximum security lockup. Martinez raised an eyebrow.

"That's not good, Fish." He remarked. "Nobody gets an audience with the Pope. Not unless he's real interested in what you got going on."

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"Top of your class at Fort Benning. Magna cum Laude, in fact. I can't help wondering what someone with your credentials is doing in a place like this." Pope remarked as Finn sat before him. Finn shrugged.

"Easy. It's because I didn't do it."

"Right. And I'm going to have a full head of hair for the rest of my life." Pope remarked, sarcastically.

"Look, what do you want me to say?" Finn snapped. "That I took a few wrong turns in my life?"

"You make it sound like a traffic infraction. Like all you did was turn the wrong way up a one-way street." Pope stated.

"Everyone turns up one sooner or later." Finn muttered, giving up on trying to plead his innocence.

"Look, the reason I called you here… I noticed in your I-file, under occupation, you put down 'unemployed'. That's not true, now, is it? I know you're a musician, Hudson." Pope said, and he swung open the door to a side room. Finn followed him in to see a whole recording studio set up in the Pope's office. "You know, John Legend, rather than writing wedding vows for his wife, he wrote a song for her: All of Me. My wife is quite fond of that story. It appeals to the romantic in her. Being married to someone in Corrections… it's a terrible job. Wouldn't wish it on anyone. And yet, in 39 years, my wife has never complained. And the worst part of it is, I've never thanked her. So, because I couldn't say it, I thought, you know, I could write my own song. Come June, it's our 40th anniversary. But see, the problem is I have no idea how to sing or write music. That's where I was hoping you could be of assistance. For the favor, I can offer you three days of work a week in here. And it'll keep you off the yard."

"I can't do it." Finn replied.

"Son, it's better for me to owe you one in here than it is for you to owe me one, I can promise you that." Pope growled. Finn chuckled. He couldn't have his sentence extended. He had a LIFE sentence.

"I'll take my chances." Finn scoffed.

"Then we're through here." Pope spat. "Guard!"

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The next morning, Abruzzi was on the phone with his men back in Cleveland. He had just received a bombshell.

"What'd he say?!" Abruzzi shouted to his right-hand man.

"You heard me." The man, Maggio, replied. "Someone found Fibonacci. I'm looking at the photos right now. Son of a bitch has a beard, sunglasses… Witness Protection, if I ever saw."

Fibonacci. Abruzzi's greatest enemy. Fibonacci was the man who anonymously testified in his trial, causing him to be locked away in prison. Then, before Abruzzi's mafia could respond, Fibonacci was put in Witness Protection, causing him to be untraceable. Until now.

"Who was this someone?" Abruzzi snapped.

"Dunno. There's no return address on the envelope. Just… this folded-up aeroplane made of paper."

Abruzzi's eyes widened.

"Like origami?" He growled.

"Yeah, like that. Like origami."

Abruzzi slammed the phone back into the receiver cradle and he scanned the prison yard, looking for Finn…

Meanwhile, on the other side of the prison, Finn had just sat opposite the man with the cat - D.B Cooper, also known as Charles Westmoreland.

"You're Charles Westmoreland, right?" Finn asked.

"Do I know you?" The man asked.

"I knew your wife before she passed."

"You knew Marla?"

"You mean Ann?" Finn replied. Charles nodded. That was a test, and Finn had passed it.

"How'd you know her?" Charles asked.

"She was my doctor." Finn replied.

"Back in Dayton?" Charles asked.

"Lima." Finn corrected, once again spotting Charles's test from a mile away. Charles chuckled.

"Fine. No more tests. I promise. Seems you know everything about me. Who are you?"

"Finn Hudson." Finn replied. "How'd you get it in here?" He asked, pointing to Charles's cat.

"First off, she is not an it. She's Marilyn and she's grandfathered back from the days when prisoners were allowed a creature comfort or two."

"I heard you were D.B. Cooper." Finn stated.

"Every new fish comes in here, first thing they hear, is that Charles Westmoreland is D.B. Cooper. Well, I'll tell you like I tell them… You want the Cooper story? I can't give it to you, cause I'm not him."

"It's too bad. I sort of wish it was true." Finn murmured. "That man's a legend."

"Nowhere near as much as I wish it were true, buddy. I'd have a million-five waiting for me on the outside."

Suddenly, Abruzzi and two of his men strutted over to Finn and Charles quickly scuttled away. Finn stood up and looked Abruzzi in the eye, not cowering down.

"You know, this thing would go a whole lot easier if you'd just hire me." Finn remarked.

"What is this all about?" Abruzzi growled.

"Say you were able to get outside those walls? Would you have the people in place to make sure you disappeared forever?"

"What do you care?" Abruzzi snapped.

"Just curious." Finn replied.

"Where's Fibonacci?" Abruzzi demanded.

"That's not the way it works. They come at me, John… I'm coming after you." Finn spat, pointing to the two henchmen who were prowling towards Finn.

"I doubt it." Abruzzi chuckled. Just then, the two henchmen pounced…

Within an instant, Finn had knocked one of them out cold and was pounding the stuffing out of the other when the unmistakable BANG! and WHIZ! of a sniper rifle sliced through the air and the prison sirens started screaming. Finn quickly felt himself being shoved against the ground by several guards.

"All right." John Abruzzi muttered quietly as Finn was dragged away.