Chapter 56:

Even with pseudo federal agent credentials, we barely made a flight out of the country. I was the one holding us up considering I didn't have any identifying information or a passport, but Mahone, the Company, or perhaps both, pulled some strings and we were aboard a plane headed into Panama. They even cleared my bag with a huge amount of cash and a loaded weapon, which I found suspiciously surprising.

Before the flight left, I had enough time to swing through a gift shop and change clothes. Although not my first choice, I now donned form fitting jeans and a floral halter top with simple flats. My bag was slung across one shoulder and my scar from the knife wound visible when I emerged and followed Mahone through the gate.

A 10 hour flight, sitting next to Mahone with nowhere else to go.

To top it off, I absolutely hated flying!

By the time the plane was ready to take off, I gripped the armrests so hard my knuckles started to turn white. I clenched my eyes shut just as tight. My stomach felt upside down during the takeoff and I tried to preoccupy myself my counting backwards from 100.

I heard the chime that the plane had reached the appropriate altitude and passengers could move about the plane. I finally opened my eyes but still kept a steel-grip on the seat. Even without looking, I could feel him staring at me. My eyes shifted over his direction slowly.

"You know the odds of a plane crash are one for every 1.2 million flights. You're at greatest risk driving a car."

"Great, thanks for the info. Now all my anxiety has suddenly been cured."

He turned his attention back to his cell phone, but I caught the smirk on his face. I released one huge breath and noticed how entirely exhausted I was. Glancing out of the window and watching the clouds rolling by was enough to help anyone drift off to sleep.

"You might as well sleep now while you've got the chance. You'll need your energy later."

My responding look was enough to communicate to him what I thought of that idea. All I needed to do was put my mind to something else and my fatigue plus the stress would go away.

"Do you even know where we need to go once we land?" I asked turning my attention back out of the window.

"Time will tell, but I attempted to make contact with Michael and I think this will get his attention."

I turned my head once more and leaned over to read the message on Mahone's phone. He was posing as Sucre and asking Michael for help stating that Tbag still had the money and was hiding out in Panama City at a hotel called Fin Del Camino. Even I had to admit, it was a good strategy, trying to compel Michael's morality on taking down Tbag. Before I could respond, the plane hit some turbulence.

"One problem," I moaned squeezing the seat hard, "I knocked Tbag out and took most of the money with me."

He considered this for a moment but remained calm, "If they returned back to the hotel room after their failed attempt on President Reynolds, they would have noticed your absence. Perhaps they assumed that Bagwell tracked you down."

It would be entertaining to witness Michael and Mahone engage in a chess match, at least the actual game. The way both of their minds worked was something to be marveled and also a little scary.

"I guess we'll see then." I responded offering nothing for further discussion.

Mahone appeared to take the hint and let me ride the rest of the trip in silence. Who knew if Michael would take the bait and come running into Panama City or not? Even though I elected to join, travel and work with Mahone, I was still torn. Part of me hoped that I would cross paths with Michael once we landed, but there was also a part that wished they all would take off and be safe. Perhaps Mahone sensed this inner struggle in me and refused to fully trust me, God knows I didn't fully trust him either. He clearly had a plan in the event that Michael showed up, but I wondered what we would do if he didn't?

After what seemed like endless bouts of turbulence, we finally landed in Panama. My legs felt like jello as I attempted to walk from the plane and through the gate. Mahone had an extra bounce to his steps as his eagerness for this showdown grew. He could see the light at the end of his tunnel and was sprinting towards that finish line.

Michael never responded to that Golden Finch message, I hadn't expected him to. We would have no way of knowing if he believed the story or not until we were in Panama City and either confront him or not. As we walked out of the airport, a car was waiting for us, no doubt courtesy of the Company. We continued our silent treatment of one another as he walked to the other side of the car and I slid into the passenger seat.

According to the signs, we were about twenty miles or so from Panama City and I tried to take in the sights during the drive. It was a beautiful country, colorful and natural. Intermittently, I would catch sight of the ocean, the water starting out more greenish in color next to the beach and turning darker shades of blue as it extended towards the horizon. No wonder Michael wanted to spend his days down here.

Mahone, satisfied with the pace we were traveling, pulled out his cell phone and held up to one ear. The voice on the other end sounded like muffled static.

"I'm out of the country right now," Mahone started, "Remember when I said the day would come when I would leave the bureau and never look back? Today's that day."

He wasn't paying attention to me but I raised my eyebrow in his direction. Not because he was anticipating his way out, but because he was telling what I assumed his family about it.

"Pam, I just have to know if I walked away…. if I was done, would you…" He was cut off by Pam on the other line.

I never observed him to act in this manner before. He could hardly form coherent sentences while talking to this woman, he sounded absolutely manic. Whatever she responded on the other line must have been the right thing to say because Mahone got so excited he nearly wrecked our car.

"I will make this right, I promise. I never stopped loving you, Pam." He smiled again as he closed the phone.

Only he immediately dialed another number telling whoever was on the other line that we were maybe ten minutes away and to get into position. His voice completely changed and sounded all business during the second call. I was baffled to see Mahone talk to his family with such care, and well love.

It made him seem human.

I never pictured him with a family, that there were people out there who valued and loved this man. Did they really know him? Know the things he'd done? Would they still love him if they knew? Something in their past must have went wrong because he was trying to fix things now, perhaps going way back to his chase of Oscar Shales.

"Finally, she's rendered speechless." Mahone chimed.

I opened my mouth to respond, but was stuck on what to say. How could he so easily switch between these two people of loving father and husband, to this cold-blooded killer for the Company? Even when I was undercover in Fox River, I knew I had to act a certain way, but the real me still shone through. When I looked at Mahone I tried to see this guy who was working so hard for his family, but the only thing I saw was the man who massacred mine.

"I have a son, you know. Cameron." He stated sensing the battle within me.

"I don't care." I finally spoke. "It seems unfair that you are rebuilding your life with your family while you are personally responsible for the loss of my own. I just want to get this job done so I can be done with you and I never have to look at your face again."

That bastard actually smiled when I spoke. I was trapped in a car with this man and I was starting to see red.

"And yet here you are, doing what you need to do to protect your loved one." He spoke with a confidence.

"I'm not killing people!" I shouted feeling hot and angry tears starting to prick my eyes. "Do you want your family to know what you had to do in order to be with them?"

"You did shoot me." He was always to keep such a calm to his voice that I wished I could match.

It was such an unfair comparison when I shot Mahone in the leg. I only shot him in the leg never with the intention to kill him, and it was spur of the moment out of anger after he killed my own father.

Mahone continued, "What choice would you make if you were faced with either doing whatever the Company asked of you, or watching something terrible happen to Tweener because you didn't?"

I rested my head back against the seat and didn't answer. I really didn't think I would ever kill someone that wasn't directly related to some sort of self-defense. I wanted to deserve the opportunity to live and love with David without taking that chance away from somebody else. The decision shouldn't be simple.

"I hope it's a choice you never have to make, Laney." Mahone nearly whispered.

I ignored him for the remainder of our short trip, telling myself over and over again that I would not, could not, sympathize with this man. While true the Company was a horrible, corrupt organization that destroyed everything it sank its hooks into, we all have to be responsible for our choices, good and bad.

Mercifully, the rest of the trip was short and Mahone pulled the car over and we exited. The backpack slung over both shoulders, I trotted closely along with Mahone to whatever destination he was given. The streets were crowded, people walking to and fro, selling and buying at set up markets. Crowds made it difficult, particularly when confrontations were involved.

What worried me was the overt presence of the Panamanian authorities in the city. I watched as a few of the armed guards paced the streets and they eagerly shouldered their guns waiting for an opportunity to strike. I wished that I would have slipped the gun out of my own bag so I had it at the ready in case action took up.

In my opinion, the first step was finding Tbag. According to this plan that Mahone concocted, Tbag took the money from me, however, this plan would fall apart at the seams if Michael found Tbag first with no money.

We rounded a corner and I sensed we were getting closer because Mahone quickened his pace. I fell a few steps behind him because I became momentarily distracted by the sounds of horns blowing across the street. Three children played different instruments attempting to draw in a crowd and I wished I could wander over and get a taste of what this culture had to offer.

The thought was short lived, when I turned my attention back to Mahone in time to see a massive body collide with his sending them both crashing through a wooden door into another building. I hurried after, avoiding the splintering wood of the door to see both forms wrestling on the ground trying to gain the upper hand over the other. Mahone's gun must have fell out of his hands when he was tackled and was currently resting on the dirt ground. Mahone flipped onto his back and that's when I finally got a good look at the other guy in the tussle.

Lincoln.

I froze mid-step with the strap of my bag in my hand watching Lincoln and Mahone fight, caught off guard and not ready to be faced with anyone yet. Suddenly, it hit me what the others would perceive when they saw me with Mahone and the burning question of how I should I let that impact me? I had reached the moment where I had to make my choice about where I was going to give myself fully. Was I prepared to help Mahone track down Lincoln and the others for the chance of my own personal freedom?

In that moment when the gun was pointed at my face back in the hotel room, the choice seemed clear, I just wanted everything to be over. But seeing them face to face, something didn't feel good in my core about what I was doing.

While I was busy contemplating the choices that I faced, Mahone kicked out his feet and knocked Lincoln off of his own. He had this lightning speed and was able to locate his gun and pointed in right at Lincoln's head. However, his eyes drifted to mine as I stood still shocked. Lincoln also turned his head and realized for the first time that I was also in the room. A mixture of confusion and hope read on his features. He scrunched his face together trying to figure out why I didn't try to help him during that scuffle.

"Where's Michael?" Mahone spoke. According to the Company's plan, we only needed to find both brothers in order to secure our own freedom.

Lincoln gave no reply, but couldn't take his eyes away from me. It was really settling in for him who I was with and what exactly I was doing. It was a suffocating feeling and something I no longer wanted to be a part of. I turned on my heel and started moving back towards the broken door.

"What are you doing?" Mahone snapped.

I stopped mid-movement and barley gazed over my shoulder to catch Mahone in my glimpse.

"Finding Tbag. We find him, we find Michael. I'll be in touch."

Without waiting for permission, I started to move towards the door again.

"You're working with him? He killed both of our dads Laney." Lincoln chimed in.

I didn't turn back to look at him, more like couldn't, and kept moving until I was out the door.