(no subject)
Title: Back Inside Sona, Part II
Author: putu2sleep
Characters: Michael Scofield, lincoln Burows, Fernando Sucre, Alex Mahone, James Whistler, Lechero, Theodore Bagwell, Susan B., Original character
Category: Post-escape
Rating: PG-13
Summary: I wrote this after "Bang and Burn," but my computer skills are SO BAD that I couldn't figure out how to post it. After reading it again, I really wanted to write it and more, so...here it is. I hope you like it
As Linc and Sucre trudged along, back toward the hotel, not knowing where to begin, Linc's cell phone began to ring. Pulling it from deep in his pocket, he answered, "Who is this?"
"Not a nice way to greet a friend, Linc," he heard a smirk in that all-too-familiar voice.
"Susan!" he gasped, "Where's L.J.? Is he okay?" He could barely say the words, so afraid of what the answer would be.
"Linc...Linc, your boy has really grown on me. I think he's a lot like you. Maybe just a little like his uncle, but I really only barely got to know Michael the other day, if you know what I mean." She laughed easily. "What a sweet one he is, but so determined. After a few hours of getting to know him, I'm sure Michael will keep up his end of the bargain. You know, actions speak louder than words. And since I need you to play nice, I told L.J. he has just a little longer in this world....Happy?"
Lincoln sank to his knees, panting. He could picture the evil grin on her face. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he lost both of them, "Thank you, thank you. I swear, I"ll do whatever it takes. No secrets, no funny business, I swear to you!"
The phone clicked off without another word, and Sucre looked at him puzzled. "L.J.'s okay," Lincoln told his friend, "Apparently it was the Company who met with, uh, spoke with Michael. Susan seems to think they have him under control, so we're a go again." Linc felt a little hope seeping back in.
"I don't believe a word that puta says, man," Sucre spat out, helping his friend off the ground. "You can play like you do, but we need to find L.J. ourselves, I don't know how, but we can do it. They will kill him, we both know it." Lincoln new it was true, but right now he couldn't face that truth. He needed to maintain this little fanasy in order to hold onto his grip on reality.
They decided to head back toward Sona, but were refused entry immediately. "The prisoner is sleeping," Lincoln was told as he was ushered out of the visitation log-in room. So the two men again headed to the hotel without a word or solid plan in place. Just fear and apprehension about what had happened to Michael. At least Sucre hadn't been called in to dig a new grave. That was some comfort.
When they entered their room, everything looked the same, but both sets of eyes fixed upon a new phone lying in the middle of the bed, a simple, yellow post-it stuck to it that read: "Trust me, Jane."
Both men looked at each other, then began exploring the room in silence. On edge, each man went in a different direction to thoroughly check each doorway, each cabinet, under the beds...anywhere someone, or something could be hidden. Finding nothing, Linc slumped into the couch. Sucre went to the mini-fridge and brought them each a beer, plopping down beside him. They both felt a little guilty swallowing the cool, refreshing liquid, not knowing anything about Michael's condition.
After a minute or two of silence, Lincoln took another sip then picked up the phone, examining it, turning it over in his hands, trying to figure out what it meant. Both men just seemed to know not to discuss it. A moment later, Linc saw it light up in his hand, no sound, not even a vibration, just a visual display that the phone was in use. Flipping it open, he put it to his ear.
"Don't say a word," a voice commanded immediately, "This phone is safe, but your room is not." It was a female voice, exuding confidence, but definitely a woman. Linc heard nothing familiar in her tone.
Sucre looked over at the obvious change in Lincoln's demeanor and rose to his feet when the other man did. Lincoln put a finger to his mouth and neither man uttered a word. Linc listened to the instructions carefully, stopping occasionally to speak in as carefree a manner as he could muster, "Sucre, I need to get some air, you wanna come along?" After hearing the next few directions, Lincoln again looked toward Sucre, "You don't need to if you want to stay and unwind, but I can't seem to sit still with all that's happened today."
Not knowing what was up, or what he was getting into, but trusting his friend, Sucre played along, "Sure man, I'll tag along. I'm not sure what good it'll do me to just sit here all day."
Lincoln hung up, slipped the new phone into his pocket as if it were a precious heirloom, and sauntered carelessly out of the room, taking one last long gulp of cool liquid as he departed with Sucre on his heels.
They walked in silence, but it was not forced or uncomfortable. Sucre knew Linc would talk when the time was right. They walked out through the lobby, into the damp heat of mid-day Panama. Linc looked over and said, "I really need something new to wear, I've been sweating in this stuff for a week." Chuckling innocently, "I don't think they're even washable anymore."
Sucre smiled, wondering what was up, but going along with it anyway, " I know how you feel, amigo, I could use a change, you think 'the Company' will spring for a new wardrobe?" Both men laughed as they turned into the local market place and soon wandered into a small clothing shop.
Minutes later, they walked out, new clean clothes sticking to their already sweat-covered bodies. Their old clothes carelessly discarded as they left. Both phones, his regular cell and his new hope, were pocketed in the cargo shorts he now wore.
"I need food!" Lincoln announced, "There's a great little torta stand around the corner, Sophia pointed it out the other day. I just can't get enough."
Once they turned a couple more corners, and walked down a deserted alley in which Lincoln somehow seemed to be perfectly at home, he abruptly turned back toward Sucre, grabbing his shirt in both fists and standing in the other man's space, face-to-face. Sucre instinctively stepped back and took a deep breath. Again, Lincoln moved in closer, "I gotta talk to you," he whispered close to Fernando's ear, "And it has to be quick, so just stop moving away and listen like you give a shit about Mike."
Sucre grabbed Linc's shirt with his own fists, insulted and intrigued at the same time, "I do give a shit, coño, so get on with it!"
Sucre stood in silence as Lincoln whispered the details he had gleened from his conversation with the mysterious voice in as few words as possible. Sucre was starting to get the picture. Their old clothes were bugged, possible even doctored with GPS tracking chips. They now understood that their room was under constant surveillance, and whoever was trying to contact them was not willing to meet under the Company's watchful eye.
As it all sank in, Sucre whispered back, "So how long do we have to get over there?"
"Half an hour," Linc responded, "But we have to follow all directions 'to a tee,' otherwise, we will lose any chance we have."
"I'm all yours, bro, lead the way and I'll follow," Sucre gulped in fear and anticipation, the first hint that they had any chance of coming out ahead, saving Michael and redeeming themselves.
They continued to wander the streets, seemingly with no purpose, but they both knew exactly where they were headed. Prior to reaching their destination, the phone vibrated in Linc's pocket. Flipping it open, he put it to his ear, again saying nothing.
"If you did everything I told you, you are safe to talk now. Turn your head away from any crowds when you speak and don't show any emotion on your face, but otherwise, you should be okay." The voice sounded sultry, yet so overpoweringly confident, that it drew Lincoln in.
"What's going on?" Linc snapped back to reality, some semblance of self-confidence returning.
"I have a goodwill gesture for you, keep toward your destination, and answer when this phone vibrates again. You do have it set to vibrate now, don't you?"
"Of course I do, how do you think I knew this call was coming in?" Lincoln barked.
The sudden silence on the other end left Lincoln hanging. After a tense moment, the sullen voice returned, "I don't know who you're used to dealing with, I really don't care, nobody talks to me that way, and nobody questions me. My words are not requests, they are orders, commands to be followed without question, or plans are ruined and people get hurt. Stay tuned for my one and ony goodwill gesture, a favor I owe to your good friend, Jane." Click, the phone went silent.
Linc pressed on, this was his only glimmer of hope. He wasn't going to screw this one up, he owed Michael that much and more. As they neared their destination, they walked out onto a crowded street, people walking by in every direction. Both men were now on alert. The cell phone came to life once again. Linc pulled it out as if his pants were on fire. "Hello, he answered in a hushed tone.
"Dad, Dad, it's me...Oh my god I didn't think I'd ever hear your voice again. I swear, I gave up, I thought I was gonna die for sure...Dad? Talk to me...you're scaring me," L.J. begged.
Linc sank to his knees once again, shaking uncontrollably, "Oh my God! You're alright! Are you alright?" That was all he could say.
"Yeah Dad, now it seems amazing, but at the time I was scared to death. Everything was loud and scary. There were gunshots and screams all around me. I hid behind a table in the room where they kept me, but I had no idea what was going on. I don't know what it was, maybe tear gas or something like that, but my eyes were stinging and I started coughing and breathing hard."
"Slow down, I can barely keep up," Lincoln interrupted.
"Sorry Dad, everything was happening at the same time, so it's hard to separate things." L.J. continued on more slowly, "Anyway, All of a sudden arms grabbed me and I heard a whisper, 'Jane says hi.' I don't know why, but I felt a lot safer after that, and I just let those arms lead me out. The whole thing took, like, maybe a couple of minutes, but it seemed like forever! I'm with Jane now and we're already out of Panama. She wanted you to know I'm okay."
Lincoln was relieved, but a little skeptical, "Let me talk to her," he demanded.
Soon he heard the calm, reassuring voice of his late father's colleague on the phone, "He's good Linc, not a scratch on him. She's the very best, I assure you. L.J. was 'stage one,' she says. She tells me that's the easy part, but I have no idea how she pulled it off. Talented, that's what everyone in the business says about her." Jane's voice became very serious, "Please don't ask too many questions, Linc. We paid a lot of money to get her on board, and I don't want to screw it up. Just let her do what she does. As far as everyone tells me, she's batting a thousand."
"How did you arrange all this," he mumbled into the phone, not knowing what else to say.
"We pulled some strings, old favors, and a lot of financial resources in. It wasn't easy, and that's why it took so long. Sorry it got this far before I could help." Jane took a deep breath and was all business again, "Lincoln," she said sternly, "Keep with the plan you've been given, don't call me to check if it's alright. Just trust me when I tell you, if she can't help Michael get out safely, nobody can."
"Who is she?" He questioned
"You don't want to know, I don't want to know." And with that, Jane hung up.
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