When the door finally opened it was around 6pm two days later (I had found out from a guard) I instinctively tried to cover my eyes but only to feel a sharp tug as the bonds on my wrists pulled. The guards chained my ankles and then undid my wrists and quickly snapped them in cuffs too. I was forced to my feet and I was walked down a hallway towards the interrogation room that I was in before. Once again I was chained to the metal bolted chair and then left to wait. My throat was so dry that it felt like it was covered with sandpaper, my stomach growled at me but I ignored it and leaned back into the chair. My arms ached from being chained in the stretched position for so long and I couldn't help but attempt to roll my shoulders to get the stiffness out. It didn't work so well.

The door finally opened and in came – guess who – Mahone. Although he didn't have a file in his hand, he still wore the same smug on his face the first time he saw me in here.

"We have come up with a plan that will enable you to be of…some use to us," he said slowly as if trying to find the right words.

Some use? I thought. The only use Mahone would find me for is for target practice but I kept my mouth shut as I realized he wasn't finished.

"The brothers are still in Panama," Mahone informed, "apparently the news of your capture finally got them out of their hiding place and they have been spotted."

I tried hard not to be interested in Michael and Lincoln but it was just so hard too. I haven't seen them since we had dug up the five million in the garage. Immediately Mahone noticed my interest.

"The plan is a false video saying that you escaped," – he seemed to have a hard time saying 'escaped' – "And put you out on the street where witnesses say that they had seen the brothers. Once they are near you, we will capture them and you will get one year off your sentence."

Really? I thought dully to myself. Only one year? I also thought of the video idea, me escaping yet again! That really got me thinking…

"Don't think that you can escape us this time," Mahone said as if to have read my mind. "There will be snipers positioned up on the roofs, and if you do anything unnecessary or funny they are authorized to shoot you on the spot."

Well there goes plan E.

Although the FBI didn't wait for my answer, they left me there until about 11 at night before putting their plan into action. They unchained me from the chair, tied me back up and then threw me into the back of a van – and when I say threw I mean literally threw. In the van were not two but four heavily armed guards who watched as I got dressed into civvies and when the one FBI agent unlocked the last cuff, four staccato noises went off in the van and I knew that all handguns were on me.

"Stand where we direct you to go," the FBI agent explained," wait till the brothers come to you and converse with them to affirm that it is Michael and Lincoln. Any funny business and we will shoot."

I nodded and before they clamped something onto my wrist and I looked down. Tracking device - these guys were taking no chances.

"When we drop you off, go down the street just before the sidewalk and wait. I nodded once again and the door then opened. I was shoved outside and I started to walk. The van doors closed and I looked down at the device to see a green button blink at me. I continued to walk down the street and then stopped just before the sidewalk like instructed. I looked up but couldn't see any snipers but knew that they were there. So I waited.

My legs were getting numb, my throat was still as dry as ever and I was hungry. I think that I had been waiting for over three hours now and I wanted to sit down. The street was empty so no one was there to point me out. The stores were closed and everything was quiet, there wasn't even a car parked on the side of the road! It was like a ghost town. I then realized the story that Mahone and the FBI were trying to make. Me waiting in what seems like an abandoned street, the brothers possibly coming around to look for some stuff to survive on see me then get their asses busted. I closed my eyes and rested.

I had woken only a few minutes later and saw figures come towards me. No. I squinted my eyes trying to make them out but still couldn't due to distance. I wanted to shout at them, to tell them to go away but I would get shot. Would it be worth it? I was in prison for a reason, Michael however… Mahone's threat echoed in my head but I could really care less about him at the moment. I stepped forward onto the sidewalk and immediately the bracelet started to beep. I looked down and saw that it was an angry red. Then it hit me. It wasn't just a tracking device; it was a communicator. Having an earpiece on my would be too visible since I wasn't a chick or had long hair to cover it. So why not have a two in one? I stepped back and the light turned back to green. So they were watching my move, I run they shoot simple. I looked down to see that it was indeed Michael and Lincoln Michael seemed to be the first one to see me and started to walk faster. I wanted to shout at him, I wanted him to realize the danger and turn back. Wasn't this a little suspicious? Even by his standards? He came up to me and then noticed that my expression was off. I wanted to shake my head at him so I did the next best thing. I rolled up the sleeve on my arm to show him the device. Michael's eyes went wide and he turned to tell his brother to go back when bullets suddenly hailed on us. Michael grabbed the back of my jacket and then pulled me forward along with him. The bullets stopped and then started up again but we were long gone.

Once we were hidden I started to get up but Lincoln pulled me back down.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

"I have to go back," I answered tugging my long sleeve free but Lincoln didn't budge. "You don't understand, this thing is a tracking device, they'll find you too." Lincoln let go of me and I took a few steps back. Michael just stood there dumbfound, I wish he would've said something to me.

"I'm sorry," I said and then started to head back when Michael finally had the courage to say something.

"Where is T-bag?"

I stopped. Out of all the things he could say he says that? I shook my head and then muttered, "I don't know."

"Please," Michael pleaded, "this is important."

I shook my head once again. "I haven't seen him." And then took off running.

Why did I run? No answer. The shock of just seeing them alive stunned me and I couldn't help but run. I looked down at the bracelet and it was blinking a familiar angry red and then out of nowhere I collapsed and started to cry. Tears sprang from my eyes and soaked the sleeves of my shirt. I just wanted to stop I just wanted to let everything go; to die. Tamara was dead or alive Brooke and David possibly ended up dead Lincoln and Michael is going to be dead no thanks to me. It seems that anyone I meet ends up dead. My body was shaking as soon as I stopped crying, why didn't any of the bullets hit us? They were snipers for fuck sake! I looked at the bracelet to still see the red and then I looked around. I had to get this thing off of me.

I found a 24- hr Locksmith service, I knew that they possibly couldn't do anything but I'll take my chances. I walked up to the store and then opened the door. Inside was a man about mid-thirties who paid no attention to me until I was right up next to the counter.

"Can I – holy shit!" he said looking at me.

"I need your help," I immediately. I wasn't going to waste any time. The man looked nervous and I placed my arm on the counter so he could get a good look at the device. His eyes went wide.

"Wh-"

"Can you get it off?" I asked.

The man swallowed. "Possibly, but I can tell that there are some electronic locks."

"What?"

"Locks that can only be undone through electronic process."

I silently cursed under my breath and then looked back at the man.

"What if we cut it off?" I asked cautiously.

The man looked really nervous now. "It might work, the metal doesn't look that thick but it might be very strong.

"What do you have?"

The man looked around and then motioned me to the back. I followed with the same caution as he did, making sure that the FBI didn't burst through the door.

In the back, various locksmith tools hung from racks and a couple of key cutters were off to the side on a metal table. Metal shavings dusted the flow and crunched lightly underneath our feet. Blank keys were in separate boxes against the back wall and freshly cut keys were hanging from a hook on a key tower with the owner's initials over top. He took out a larger key cutter than the ones on the table and then proceeded to take the top off and a few other covers to expose the cutting wheel. The man carefully lifted the heavy machine onto the metal table and then motioned me to come over. I cautiously went over and then looked at the thing.

"If anything can remove…that from your wrist, it's this," he explained. "This is a cutting wheel, it's used to grind and fashion our keys into the way the key is suppose to be. It could possibly cut through the metal on your wrist."

Possibly? I thought, what if it didn't? What if it did? What if it cut through the metal so well that…that you'll be one less of a hand? My subconscious offered. I tried to control my emotions especially in front of this man and told my brain to shut up and fuck off.

"Let's do it."

He flicked on the lever and the wheel roared to life then whistled as it spun. The man held out his hand waiting for me to offer the trapped wrist. I took in a breath and then allowed him to take it. He moved it towards the wheel and I braced myself for whatever was to come.

As soon as the metal hit the wheel I felt as if my bones all shook at once. I tried to not make a face but it was hard to as he continued to move back and forth with my wrist, I could feel the speed and pressure of the wheel grind and I winced a few times. Sometimes I'd watch while other times I'd just look away wanting it to be over. Finally it was but it was consequence.

"I can't get it off," the man said, "whatever metal that the government is using is much stronger than I anticipated."

I looked at the angry blinking light and then had another idea.

"Can you cut through that?" I asked pointing to where the clip was.

The man shrugged. "I could give it a try."

I allowed him to and he started up the machine again and went too it. As he was ready to cut a sudden thud caught our attention.

"Police open up!"

"Hurry!" I urged and then man went to work. It didn't take long for him to grin through the light and destroy the chip.

"POLICE OPEN UP!" the voice was like God, it boomed in our ears and seemed to come from all sides.

I threw him an apologetic look and took some tools that were laid out flat on the table and headed for the back door. I took out on of the tools and then kicked the door open. A guard was in front of me and raised his gun but I was quicker and drove whatever I had in my hand through the FBI's mask. The man scream and dropped his gun and tried to take off his mask but I pushed him over and threw another lock pick tool at another guard and the tool buried itself into the man's chest armour. With the bundle of tools, clutched tightly in my hand I jumped over a fence and into the darkness.