Chapter 5: Animals

Sara spends the next few hours in a waiting room down the corridor from Kellerman's office. Magazines sprawled on a wooden table, comfortable seats, a vending machine, and a camera that blinks at her from the ceiling. Of course, it'd be ridiculous to think Kellerman is watching her. He's busy being a good senator, changing the system from within. She'd be a fool to run when her husband's life is at stake.

There is nothing to do but wait.

Magazines tell her about a life that feels as distant as the ice age, about what a woman ought to do to stay thin after childbirth, how many grams of almonds to eat for breakfast, and tricks to keep your man 'interested'.

The eye of the camera is like a red glare and, at some point, Sara stops trying to rationalize and flees to the restroom. Whether Kellerman was watching her before or not, at least here, he can't. She craves a shower so hot it'll make her skin red, but makes do with splashing her face at the sink.

She keeps in touch with her team the whole time, only through texts. Doesn't pick up the phone when Alex calls, or the others. When Alex writes her the plane is about to take off, her heart launches into a mad sprint. Nothing but the deafening beat of her blood at her temples.

In less than forty-eight hours, she could be with Michael again.

That's how she busies herself, throughout the wait.

How he'll look, four years older, four years being a prisoner. Grey? The thought flutters through her like butterfly wings. To see him aged would make it really sink in. Only the living age.

What are the first words he'll say to her? How will his lips taste when they break hers apart, ghosts from the past or angels in paradise?

The hours go by until Sara has reunited with Michael a hundred times. It's already happened, she's lying in his arms as he whispers to her.

You've been so strong, Sara. You didn't let my loss kill you, you didn't fall apart, because you were waiting for this moment. And you were right.

…

It's five p.m. when Kellerman gets a call from security. Granted, he's not been getting much work done. He keeps dismissing paperwork to check the footage from the hall where Sara browses a magazine with glazed eyes, just to make sure he didn't dream the past few hours.

Plenty time on his hands to plan every detail of his revenge, but the thought rouses him so much he starts pacing the office.

Then he gets the call from his head of security.

"We caught a man, trying to break into the building through the backdoor. Thought I'd let you know before we called the cops."

"It's all right, Stu."

"What do you want us to do with him, Mr. Senator? We've got him handcuffed in the kitchen, where he won't bother anyone."

Kellerman grins. "Hold him steady. I'm coming down."

Downstairs, in a backdrop of white tiling, Lincoln thrashes about like the chair that holds is made of red iron. The years have gone easy on Burrows. His skull clean-shaven, the bulk of him still trying to break out of overly tight shirts. He looks exactly as he did four years ago. Except for a black eye the color of a bruised banana and the swell of his split lip.

"You motherfucking scumbag."

"Nice seeing you too, Lincoln. You can leave us," Kellerman tells his security agents. They obey him, reluctantly.

When they're alone in the kitchen, Kellerman allows himself a sigh. "What am I going to do with you?"

"How about you untie me and see what happens?"

Kellerman laughs.

"I'm serious," Lincoln says. And he looks it, with his red face, the muscles of his arms bulging even as his hands are tied behind his back. "I don't know what kind of sick deal you made with Sara, but maybe we settle it you and me, right here, right now. Man to man."

"Ah, Lincoln. Spoken like a true Alpha wolf."

Lincoln frowns. Probably, to his ears, this sounds like a compliment.

"Whatever game you're playing," Lincoln says. "If you touch a hair on her head, I'll make you eat your balls."

Really, this is too much. Kellerman doesn't expect to make Lincoln understand, of course. Sara came to him. Did he make her, did he break into her apartment, wait for her there, in this decrepit hotel she shares with her crazy gang of conspiracy-crazed weirdos? So maybe he's been a little obsessed with Sara these past years. Maybe he knows every detail of her social media presence—before she went 'rogue'. Before Michael Scofield. Every available picture of her sits safe in a file on his computer, in case someone takes them down. And all right, maybe he looks at these pictures a little too often. Define 'often'. But he didn't come to her, did he? He didn't put these words in her mouth either.

I'll do anything.

Technically, he could decide Lincoln's presence here makes their deal void. But Kellerman isn't heartless. At the end of the day, Sara is going to get her husband back, and he's going to get her out of his system once and for all.

It doesn't surprise him that the subtleties of this deal fly ten thousand miles beyond Lincoln's comprehension.

"Ah, Burrows. You should be on a plane to Yemen with the rest of your little team. What good are you to your brother here? Or to Sara?"

"You better not talk about my brother, you dirty freak."

Kellerman represses an eye-roll. He's gotten all the fun he could hope to squeeze out of this situation. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to cool off. If you'll excuse me, I have to go back to work."

"You touch my brother's wife and I'll kill you!"

On the elevator back to his office, Kellerman shakes his head.

"Animal," he says.