After Aldo Burrows' anti-Company Movement pull him from the van beneath the underpass, they stick him in a safe house and tell him to lie low. It feels a little like going out of his mind. Was this how Terrence felt?
He no longer carries a gun. There's no need, they tell him. They will protect him.
And then he hears that Bill Kim is dead – the Panamanian authorities fished his body out of the water on a beautiful day.
The little bastard had it coming, the details shouldn't matter. But Kellerman hears himself ask, with an almost gleeful curiosity, "Who was it? Who pulled the trigger?"
"Sara Tancredi. The police saw her fleeing the scene with the murder weapon, but Scofield confessed to the crime. It fit with the Company's plan to get him inside Sona, so they didn't charge her."
"Tancredi." Impersonal. Sara. Very, very personal. The fell-in-love-with-you-somewhere-between-Gila-and-Evansville kind of personal. She did what none of them – not him, not Mahone, not wunderkind boy genius Michael Scofield – could do. She killed Bill. My hero. "And she's okay? They let her go? She's free?"
Because he wanted her to find happiness. Her being safe would be a start.
"Officially," someone says, "yes."
"And unofficially?" he hazards.
"She's listed as missing."
Sara hasn't left the country and she hasn't turned up on the ground, or in it. Or anywhere, for that matter. She's been made to disappear by cruel Company magic. An insurance policy against Scofield's cooperation.
He breaks rank and disobeys orders – hey, it wouldn't be the first time. It's really more like the second or third, and for a man who's spent his entire adult life going yes sir, no sir, three body bags full, sir, Paul Kellerman could get used to it.
He gets on a plane to Panama. When he clears customs he's going to be that guy again, the guy with the gun and nothing to lose. He's going to find her.
G-d help anyone who gets in his way.