Chapter 18!

Disclaimer: I don't own Prison Break

Only one more chapter after this one :)

"We're clear on what's going to happen?" Lincoln asked Sucre, who was next to him.

The Puerto Rican nodded. "Chips and soda."

"Good. It will come down to minutes." Lincoln turned towards Sucre, who was driving. "You don't have a problem with this, right?"

"He is just a dangerous person to piss off, is all." He replied after a brief hesitation.

Lincoln continued to watch him for a moment, before turning back to the battered map in his hands. "It should be just a few miles up ahead." He commented, refolding it.

Sucre turned off the highway and headed towards the gas station. Their car was low on fuel, and Lincoln imagined that Michael's car was also. Plus, they were hungry, thirsty, and long overdue to stretch their legs. Lincoln breathed a quiet sigh of relief as Michael followed their car off the highway.

Lincoln pulled up on the other side of Michael. Everybody got out of the cars upon arrival at the small station. The brothers went about refilling the cars' tanks, while everybody else went off in search of a bathroom. On her way back to the car, Kate spied a pay phone. She slowed, staring at the device. The events of the past two weeks replayed themselves in her mind, forcing her to experience them anew, to relive the agony. Her vision blurred, and Kate felt hot droplets running down her face. In the past fourteen days, she'd been kidnapped-by escaped criminals and a murderer no less, held at gunpoint, nearly raped, been on the wrong end of a police chase, cheated on Adam, and been dumped by someone from the weirdest relationship she'd ever been in, but someone that she'd come to care about all the same. Suddenly, this was all too much. She couldn't keep doing this. Not alone. She was friendless amongst them, with no hope for a reprieve. Too much. Michael said it would be over tonight, but what if he was wrong? Too much.

"You coming?" Sara's relatively kind voice jarred her out of her thoughts.

"Yeah." Kate brushed away the tears.

"You know…" Sara hesitated, uncertain. "They're not bad people. Most of them."

"I know." Kate pushed her hair out of her face. "I'm just, uh, going to… tie my shoe." She kneeled down, adjusting the shoelace on her left shoe. "You can go ahead, if you want."

"All right." Kate watched Sara walk back to where Michael stood.

Kate stood swiftly the instant the other doctor rounded the corner of the building, and pulled some change out of her pocket. She dashed towards the pay phone and inserted the coins into it, lifting the receiver to her face. Kate dialed, and slumped against the wall, eyes closed, as the line began to ring.

"Hello?" He sounded exhausted, as though he hadn't slept in… well, two weeks.

"Adam." Now that she heard his voice, she could only whisper his name. The tears came back again, but Kate tried to prevent herself from completely losing control.

"Kate?" A wild hope was evident in Adam's voice now.

"Yeah, it's me." Kate sniffled.

"Kate! What happened? Where are you? Are you okay? You know what, just hang on, let me let the police know it's you-"

"No!" She exclaimed. "I mean… I just want to talk. For a moment."

"Uh… okay, I guess." Adam sighed. "Where are you?"

Kate glanced around. "I, um, I'm not sure." She answered truthfully.

"Best guess?"

"How's Mom?" Kate changed the subject forcibly.

"She's hangin' in there." He sounded frustrated.

"Does she know I'm… not there?"

"I told her you're visiting some friends in L.A. But I think she knows I'm lying."

"She always could see through your stories." Kate remarked, smiling through her tears.

"Yeah. Look… we're engaged. That means you can tell me stuff. It means you should tell me stuff."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Well, for starters, why you left without telling anyone."

"You're mad about this?" She asked, cringing.

"Not mad, exactly, just very worried. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine. What's wrong?" He asked. She knew he had a concerned expression on his face, and knew that if she was with him, he would be holding her, protecting her, just like when T-Bag….

Wait. That was Lincoln, not Adam. Bad, bad, bad!

"Everything." Kate whispered. And with that, she lost it completely.

"Hey! T-Bag!" Sucre caught up with the con, who was wandering away from the cars. The other man turned, one eyebrow raised. "They want you to buy some soda."

"Do I look like their slave?" T-Bag retorted. "No."

Sucre came to stand next to him. "Look, I don't ask no questions. You shouldn't neither. Just buy the damn soda." He handed T-Bag some money.

T-Bag pocketed the money. "The Fish wants pop, he get it himself."

"Look, now, I wasn't gonna say anything, but they're talking about getting rid of you." Sucre said, lowering his voice. T-Bag just stared at him, like this was nothing new. "By making waves, you're just making it easier for them."

T-Bag held his gaze for a moment more, before storming off and into the gas station.

"Hey! Get chips too!" Sucre called after him, before hurrying back to the vehicles.

It had taken a few minutes, but Adam had calmed Kate back down to a more rational state of mind. She'd sobbed hysterically into the phone, he'd whispered soothing nonsense, and now Kate was considerably more reasonable. "So when are you coming back?" He asked her.

"I don't know. Soon, hopefully."

"How soon?"

"Hey." Another voice on Kate's end said.

She twisted wildly, startled. Lincoln was there, just feet away. Kate placed a hand over the receiver. "What?" She inquired, snappily.

"We're going." He replied.

"Just let me say good-bye."

"Now." Lincoln emphasized.

"Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"I have to go."

"Who was that?"

"No one. Just someone waiting for the phone." It troubled her how easily she'd lied to her fiancé just then.

He gave an agitated sigh, but accepted this. "If you say so."

"I do. I really have to go."

"Okay. I'll see you soon?"

"I hope so."

"I love you."

"Me too."

"Wait, Kate?"

"Hmm?"

Adam hesitated. "Could you say it?"

"Say what?"

"Tell me that you love me?"

"Adam, I really have-"

"Please? Just say it?"

Kate swallowed. "I love you, Adam."

"I know. I just wanted to hear you say it."

"I have to go now."

"Okay."

"Bye then."

"Good bye." Adam said, as she hung the receiver up. She slumped against the wall, eyes shut.

"Did you tell him what we're doing?" Lincoln asked sharply, causing her to jump slightly; she hadn't realized that he had lingered after giving her the warning. She gave him a confused look. "With the tape?"

Kate shook her head. "No."

"Where we are?"

"No."

"Who you're with?" She just shook her head, too tired now to respond again with words. It seemed almost like he was trying to pick a fight, but she didn't have the energy for it anymore. Everything that had happened, coupled with the sheer enormity and extreme peril of what they were trying to do exhausted her. Just thinking about it all made her want to collapse, right here, and never move again.

"C'mon." Lincoln said gruffly, leading the way back to the car.

"Is that T-Bag in there?" Kate asked as they passed the mini-mart by the pumps.

"Yep." Lincoln replied.

"Why…?"

"Just hurry. We're leaving our friendly neighborhood sex offender here, as long as he doesn't find out we tried to pull the wool over his eyes before it's too late." They approached the cars as quickly as they could without drawing attention. When Lincoln and Kate rejoined the rest of the group, they divided up again and got into the vehicles and drove away.

"Think you got enough there?" The cashier was a teenage boy, his hair long and his attitude bad. He was referring to the bag of chips and lone two-liter bottle of soda.

"Yup. That's it." T-Bag replied, scratching his back, discreetly searching for security cameras. He saw none.

"Four twenty eight." The cashier stated, drumming his fingers on the counter impatiently.

T-Bag pulled out the five Sucre had given him from Michael. He grinned, and slapped it down onto the counter. "You know, I used to have long hair like yours." T-Bag commented, examining the clerk. He looked up at the customer, seeming a little disturbed.

"That's just peachy." The cashier replied, counting out T-Bag's change.

"You know what, you can just keep the change… Matt." T-Bag said, spying the teen's nametag.

"I guess I can home, my day's complete now." The cashier replied sarcastically, dropping the seventy-eight cents back into the register.

"When I was your age…." He started, before stopping, recalling some of the stunts he'd pulled when he was Matt's age and deciding that most of them probably were unsuitable even for the teenager to hear. T-Bag grinned once more, and headed out the door.

In the parking lot, however, he froze. It was empty. "Damn you, Scofield!" T-Bag bellowed into the night.

Furious didn't even begin to describe how he felt then, having been betrayed again. When he was able to think relatively clearly, T-Bag recalled a pay phone on the side of the building. As he trotted over to it, he thought back to his vow earlier to the older brother, of an anonymous call to the police.

He picked up the receiver, and reached into his pocket to withdraw a quarter. T-Bag's good hand froze, however, as he realized that he had no coins of any type. He swore again. If only I'd took the damn change! T-Bag thought, enraged. He ran back to the station, and yanked the door open. The teen stared up at him in surprise.

"I need to borrow your phone." T-Bag panted, steadying himself on a rack of newspapers.

"Phones are for employees only. Sorry." He seemed anything but sympathetic.

T-Bag shook his head. "You don't understand. This is an emergency like no other."

"What the hell do you need a phone for, hobo?" The cashier snapped.

T-Bag managed to avoid retorting that. "I don't suppose that someone so lost to society has heard of the Fox River Eight."

"Contrary to popular belief, I can read." The clerk said, pointing at a poster on the wall promoting the search for the escapees. T-Bag was suddenly glad he'd put a hat on before coming in.

"Well, then you can appreciate how significant it is that three of them were outside this gas station just now." T-Bag said, leaning on his elbows on the counter. Matt's eyes grew a bit wider, in an uncharacteristic display of surprise.

"Mahone."

"Agent Mahone, this is Deputy Sharon Lain, of-"

"What do you need, Deputy?"

"We received a call moments ago from a gas station cashier, claming that he saw three of the Fox River Eight outside his station five minutes ago. We contacted the FBI, and they connected us to you."

"What's the address?" Mahone slowed, and wrote down the letters and numbers.

"Sir, you have to understand, this is extremely… well, extreme. This sort of thing never happens here, and quite frankly, none of us are sure how to handle it. Should we sent cars over there?"

"No!" Mahone didn't mean to sound so sharp. "I'll call when I get there, and then I'll need backup. In the meantime, get your squads ready. These men are extremely dangerous, and your officers would be putting themselves at unnecessary risk until I am there."

"Yes, sir."

"Contact me if there is a problem."

"Sir?"

"What?"

"We already sent two cars over…." Mentally, Alex swore. This would be decided by mere minutes.

"I really have to get going." T-Bag said. "I have a previous engagement to return to."

The cashier shrugged. "Sure thing. Scram. I'll just tell the police that you deliberately disobeyed their direct order to stay here. Which," He spoke from experience now. "Is a crime, in case you didn't know."

"I got things to do, people to see." T-Bag snapped. "Tell the cops you saw 'em." He moved to the door, but then stopped, sighing in frustration. A car had pulled into the lot, its headlights signifying its arrival. T-Bag moved deeper into an aisle, blocking himself from immediate view. The door opened, and a man in a black suit with sunglasses-even though it was dark outside-entered. As he removed the glasses, revealing himself to be Alexander Mahone, T-Bag felt a great sinking sensation in his gut. His plan for revenge had backfired in the worse possible manner.

"You the man who saw the three?" Alex asked, not seeing T-Bag yet.

The cashier shook his head. "The hooded marvel in row three did." He replied, pointing.

Alex turned, and upon seeing T-Bag, eased his gun smoothly out of its holster. "We just keep running into each other, T-Bag." He remarked, walking slowly towards the aisle.

T-Bag threw his hood off, snarling. "That's sweet of you, but I'm afraid we're going to have to put an end to this unseemly relationship."

"Oh?" Mahone challenged.

"Uh huh." T-Bag replied, pushing over a display stand and sprinting forwards, not to Mahone, but to the cashier. Mahone fired several bullets, but none of them met their mark. Matt shouted as T-Bag wrapped on arm around against his neck and pushed him forwards with the other.

"What the hell are you doing, man?" The teen asked, voice cracking slightly.

"Now, now, it would be a shame if this innocent young punk somehow found himself in the middle of all this." T-Bag remarked, grinning eerily. He had protection now. He had a hostage, or a human shield, depending on how the situation played out.

Mahone stared at him, trying to guess his motive. "You can't win, T-Bag." He said finally. "Even with the boy, the police will be here soon, and then they'll outnumber you, and you will be brought in. There's no point in putting us all through this."

"The point isn't to get out of this." T-Bag corrected, running a hand through the teen's lengthy dark hair.

"Then what is the point?"

"The point is to…" T-Bag trailed off as several police cars filled the lot, and officers piled out. The doors burst open, admitting cop after cop after cop, all of them training their weapons on him. T-Bag's grin grew. "The point was to hold out for a few minutes. Just long enough."

"How is this better, T-Bag?" Mahone snapped, sweat collecting on his face.

"See, the cops won't kill me." T-Bag replied, almost happily. "They have to play by the rules. You, on the other hand… well, you just like to make your own rules, don't you?" When there were several officers between him and Mahone, T-Bag released Matt, who leaned against a wall as though it was all that held him up. They cuffed T-Bag, and led him out to a squad car, one of them shouting off his rights over the noise of the sirens. Minutes later, Mahone departed also, speeding off into the night in the direction Lincoln, Michael, Sara, Sucre, and Kate had gone just half an hour before.

"You okay kid?" An officer finally asked Matt, almost half an hour later. "Kid?" The cashier snapped out of a reverie. "You okay?"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine."

"You look familiar." The cop squinted, as though it might help him remember.

"I don't think so." Matt had the sense to refute this. The cop undoubtedly recognized him from some exploit he'd been caught in the middle of, and it wouldn't help his situation to remind the officer of it.

"Hmm." The officer snapped his notebook shut. "Are you okay? Do you want to come back to the station?"

"No." He outright refused. Matt spent enough time there these days without going voluntarily.

"The owner said he'd be here in as quick as he could, so you can go." The officer added. "We'll come by for your statement in about a day, and you'll probably be called on to testify."

"Fine." The officer glanced at him, not convinced, but not about to force the matter.

"You know what? I think I'll get a haircut." Matt added randomly, still deep in thought about T-Bag.

They were only about half an hour away, now, and Michael could practically taste the alleviation of this crisis. He looked over at Sara. She returned his smile anxiously. She was nervous, he realized. Nervous about what? About how this was going to go down? About what would happen next? I guess after everything that's happened to her, she's entitled to some nerves now, Michael reasoned.

He looked back to where Kate sat in the back, biting her thumbnail absentmindedly. Michael couldn't determine if he thought she looked nervous, or just indifferent. He still hated that they had taken her along. She wasn't involved in this in any way. At least, not until he made her a part of it. Michael was sorry about everything that had happened to her because of him and his brother, but he didn't think he could ever find a way to make her believe that. After all, how often does the captive ever sympathize with the captors?

Michael brought his eyes back to the road, eyes automatically scanning the short distance the headlights illuminated in the now-complete darkness. The last thing they needed now was an accident. Almost fifteen minutes ago now, Lincoln had pulled up next to Michael and said that he thought there was somebody following them. So they'd increased their speed, disregarding the speed limit, and praying that they encountered no ignorant, righteous police officers.

"Sara?"

"What, Michael?" She replied, shifting her gaze from the darkness outside to his shadow-drenched face.

"No matter what happens… I love you. I want you to know that."

"I know. I love you too." Sara answered, tired, but still meaning it. She personally couldn't wait to crawl into a real, clean bed again to get some real sleep.

In the back seat, Kate pretended that she couldn't hear them. Of course, in reality, she could, and their conversation only made her think of the one she'd had with Adam not that long ago. "I just wanted to hear you say it," he'd said. Almost as though he'd suspected that maybe something about her wasn't right. As though he'd thought maybe he was losing her.

Which wasn't as ridiculous as perhaps Adam believed it to be.

Sure, she'd spent over a week sleeping with another man (another man that she happened to have come to care about in that time), but it didn't mean that she didn't still care for Adam. It didn't mean that she was planning on leaving him (although she caught herself wondering more than once what she would do without him). It didn't necessarily mean anything.

The idea shouldn't have been enough to bring tears to her eyes, but it was. Adam wasn't losing her. If anything, she was already lost to him. He'd never had her the way he thought he had. She didn't love him. She never would, and Kate knew that. But he was safe. So safe. And he loved her. And maybe that was enough.

Kate gradually became aware that there were sirens in the distance. Both Michael and Sara fell silent as they heard them too. They were still a ways away, but getting closer with every second. Michael gritted his teeth, but continued to drive. They had no alternative.

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, something collided into the side of Michael's vehicle. As the driver, Michael never even saw the other car coming. It slammed into them, sending them spinning off the road and into the overgrown grass next to it. The other car faired only slightly better, managing to come to a halt on the shoulder. Behind them, Lincoln slammed on the breaks violently to avoid hitting them also. He and Sucre sprang out of their car and sprinted to the one Michael had been driving. Michael, Sara, and Kate were all already out of the now-smoking vehicle, apparently unhurt.

"What the hell happened?" Lincoln asked, taking in the wreckage.

"I-"

"You know, Michael, if you really didn't want to be found, you should have turned your cell phone off." The five turned their heads first one way, then the other, eyes fervently searching blindly in the dark for the source of the voice. "We can't track it then."

"Lance." Sara breathed, ignoring the fear welling up in her chest. "I mean, Kellerman."

Michael stepped protectively in front of her, which was slightly pointless because they didn't know where the agent was.

"On the other hand, Burrows, I'm surprised that you didn't think of it. Surely LJ told you about his experiences with the Secret Service?"

"By the trees." Sucre muttered as quietly as he could. Everyone turned away from the road, towards a small cluster of trees where the glint of something-a watch, perhaps- betrayed the presence of a human.

"Kellerman-" Michael was cut off by the sudden deafening volume of police sirens. A patrol car raced past the scene. Several dozen yards later, it screeched to a stop, performed a hazardous U-turn and came back.

"What happened here?" A police officer called through his open window as he approached them.

Kellerman produced an agitated sound. "Agent Paul Kellerman, US Secret Service. I have apprehended a member of the Fox River 8. I have it under control."

"What member?"

Kellerman's eyes gleamed. "Actually, it's not even one of the 8. Just Sara Tancredi."

"Need some help?"

"Nope. I've got it." Kellerman paused. "Actually, some of the others went past here, going north on this road."

"Really?"

"Mmm Hmm. I understand you probably have things to do. Monitor traffic, paperwork back at the office, that sort of thing."

"Oh, no sir, we'll be right on it." The officer promised, before gunning away into the night. At precisely that moment, the five people Kellerman was looking to apprehend scattered

It was like the ultimate game of hide and seek. They didn't have time to get into the car, so they hid. Sucre hid among the wrecked cars. Sara settled in a ditch under some leaves. Lincoln crawled to a patch of exceptionally tall, thick brush. Michael moved behind a tree, and checked his watch; they didn't have time for this! Kate sought refuge behind a large boulder, knees tucked up to her chest. It was a game of life and death, and Kellerman was the seeker.

"You think this helps?" Kellerman asked rhetorically, a soft click indicating that his gun was ready. He removed the silencer from the weapon, wanting every gunshot to be painfully audible. "You think you can hide long enough?"

No one else spoke, knowing that doing so would be suicide. They didn't move, they barely breathed, not wanting to give any hints.

The only sound now was Kellerman. He said something that sounded dangerously like "Aha!" And then some foliage rustled. Someone drew shaky breaths. "We haven't met before." Kellerman remarked. He got no response, which no doubt irritated him. Lincoln had a bad feeling about this. "Tell me your name!" Kellerman dug the tip of his gun into her back.

"Kate." She whispered, tears threatening to fall.

"Kate!" Kellerman called, wanting everyone to hear. "You're not one of the Fox River 8, are you?" He paused. "No. You seem like a good person, Kate. A good person who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. To help make this go away, I need you to ask them to come out." Kellerman stopped again, waiting. After a brief hesitation, Kate replied that she would not do that. "See, that's bad. That sort of attitude will get you thirty years for helping convicted felons." He raised his voice now. "There's a lot of ways to cause pain with bullets, a lot of ways to make death come slowly. Just remember: she's not supposed to be involved. She is being punished for your decisions."

He won't pull the trigger. He won't do it.

He did. The sound of the gunshot overwhelmed the area for a second, and rang in Lincoln's ears for a few more due to the close proximity. Kate screamed, the long, agonized scream of a person in immense pain, eventually breaking off into sobs. Kellerman allowed her to do so for several moments before speaking again. "If you don't all come forward, that was only the beginning." He promised.

Neither Michael, Sara, Lincoln, nor Sucre responded, not wanting to give away their positions. It was a selfish decision, but the logical one. They needed to stay alive, and they wouldn't if they did as he said.

"No?" Kellerman gave them one final chance, before tucking his gun into his belt and personally inflicting pain with his own hands. Kate cried out numerous times, but Kellerman didn't stop as no one came forward. "Still no? You must not care very much about your hostage, then."

Deep in the grass, Lincoln clenched his fists, trying to maintain his resolve. Giving themselves up wouldn't help anything. He knew that. All they could do was wait for an opportunity…

Another gunshot, another shriek of pain. Lincoln couldn't take it anymore. His internal battle between risking capture and sparing Kate over, he stood. Kellerman's torso twisted toward Lincoln.

"Lincoln. I didn't think you'd be the first one to crack." Kellerman said, knocking Kate to the ground, where she lay, unconscious.

Lincoln was about to reply when people shouted and there was the sound of a struggle of some sort. He scuttled to where Kellerman had been, and found Michael and Sucre trying to wrestle the agent to the ground. Lincoln's gaze miraculously found Kellerman's gun. He stooped over and picked the weapon up.

Lincoln was about to do it again. He was going to kill another man. But Kellerman wasn't innocent, like the ones in the gas station before. Kellerman was a threat. More than that, however, Kellerman had hurt people Lincoln cared about. Veronica, Michael, LJ, Sara, Kate.

He barely hesitated before pulling the trigger.

When the blackness lifted and Kate came to, there was a flurry of activity all around her. She tried to sit up, but her head spun dangerously. Kate shut her eyes and started to slip away from consciousness again when she realized someone was calling her name. She tried to reply, but the only sound Kate could muster was a soft moan. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and lowered her back down to the ground.

A face loomed over her head, a familiar face. She should recognize the person, she knew that. But between her swimming vision and general disorientation, Kate couldn't match the face to a name. She shut her eyes again against the light that shone over her, illuminating her and the man over her.

"Kate? Can you hear me? Look at me." The voice that had called her name ordered. Kate opened her eyes halfway, making the connection that the voice belonged to the face. She moaned again. "I'm so sorry." His voice was low, rough with emotion. He knew enough not to lift her, but man dropped his face, allowing it to rest softly on hers. He rubbed her arm softly, no doubt trying to comfort her.

"Lincoln." Another voice and face appeared in her line of sight. Lincoln. That was it. That was his name.

Lincoln sat upright, as though burned. "What?"

"I need to examine her."

"What?"

"I need to look at her, see what's up." The woman replied evenly.

"Oh… yeah, okay. Okay." Lincoln disappeared, leaving her alone with the woman. Sara.

"What hurts, Kate?" Sara asked her, shining a light in her eyes.

Kate flinched. "Everything."

"What hurts the most?"

"Uh… my, uh, my stomach, chest. Leg. Back. Everything."

"Okay." Sara said. "Stay with me, Kate." Kate tried to nod, but it made her head spin again so she stopped. Sara lifted her shirt slightly, revealing bruises that had already begun to form on her ribs. She pressed slightly along Kate's abdomen. At one of these prods, Kate cried out from the pain it caused. Sara noted this, and proceeded on with the rest of her examination before standing and joining the rest of the group.

"She needs immediate medical attention." Sara stated, jamming her hands into her pockets.

"Can you do anything?" Michael asked.

Sara shook her head. "No. Not here. Not enough."

"We have to take her with us. We can't just leave her here!" Lincoln argued.

Sara turned to him. "She was shot three times. She has broken ribs. She is bleeding internally. If she doesn't get to a hospital soon, she will die."

"Will she be okay in the hospital? She'll get better, right?" Sucre asked.

Sara shrugged. "Maybe. She's gone through a lot. She'll have the best chance to fight in the hospital. Out here… she doesn't stand a chance."

"We can't go to a hospital." Michael pointed out. "Is there any way she can walk?"

"Not far, if at all." She replied. Lincoln had leaned against a tree.

"She needs a hospital." Michael repeated. Sara nodded. "All right then. We'll take her to the next one we encounter, and then continue on to Rain." When this met no disapproval, Michael continued. "I'll go explain, then."

"No."

"What?" Michael turned to his brother.

"I'll tell her." Lincoln volunteered, straightening. Michael nodded, and Lincoln strode back over to where Kate lay bleeding.

"Kate? Can you hear me?" Lincoln asked.

"Yeah…"

"I'm picking you up now." Lincoln carefully slid a hand behind her knees and under her back, and lifted her.

"Where are we going?" She asked, sounding sleepy.

"The car. We're going to get help for you."

"A hospital?"

"A hospital. With doctors and everything."

"That's good." A pause. "What do I tell them?"

"What?"

"They'll want to know what happened."

"Oh. Uh, just tell them the truth. About how we kidnapped you, and all." Lincoln replied, carefully laying her on the back seat of his car.

"Lincoln?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm cold." Lincoln glanced down at her. He searched for something to cover her with, but could only find his old shirt, that she'd worn after T-Bag had attempted to rape her. Lincoln lifted this and spread it over her torso.

"That's all I can do right now." He said.

"Thank you." Kate replied obediently.

"No problem." Lincoln got into the driver's seat. Sucre climbed into the front also, and Michael and Sara took Kellerman's car. They drove away, knowing it would probably be only minutes before the police found the wreckage.

In the other car, Michael looked at the clock. The plan was falling apart, again. What was that saying again? Something about the best laid plans of mice and men… Michael's plans certainly had run amuck for the past little bit. They were supposed to meet Rain in less than an hour, but with the added pit stop at the hospital, it was going to be close. And if they couldn't get to Rain then, they would probably be found. The police and the feds were too close for failure now.

It would come down to minutes.

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