Episode Report Card Erin: A | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Get it on. Bang a Vaughn. Get it on.
By Erin | Season 2 | Episode 12 | Aired on 01.11.2003
Sloane continues giving Jack the details on just what the tracking device can do. Namely, it tracks Sloane's whereabouts and his vital signs and transmits his conversations back to the Alliance. Dayum. That is one highly sophisticated piece of machinery, dudes. Wish I'd had one of those for my old boyfriend Hank4. Maybe then I would have known about the Asian "massage parlor" he visited in Philadelphia BEFORE he decided to tell me SEVEN MONTHS LATER. Fuckstain.
So, anyway, Sloane's all, see, Jack? The Alliance already knew you'd been to see me. If I'd lied about it, I'd be screwed, buddy. And we don't want that, now do we? Oh. Well, never mind. All those leads you gave me were dead ends. So here's one of my own. As Sloane tells Jack about murdering a member of the Alliance, we flashback to that time in Montreal when Sloane shot the shit out of Jean Briault. "It is quite possible," finishes Sloane, "that the blackmailer was stirred by revenge. That he, or she, was close to Briault. Stay safe, Jack. Good luck."
Then we see Jack slo-mo-ing his way over to a meditating Irina. I think I've figured out why Lena Olin has such a hot body. I think she's a runner. She has these angled shoulders and small waist and...wow. Have I just analyzed Lena Olin's body? I definitely need to get laid. AND NOW.
Anyway, Jack hands Irina the printed-off copy of Sloane's email, and she looks it over. Jack's all, Briault has a wife and kid, but neither one of them would have the smarts to blackmail the Alliance and the other partners. They thought Briault was a pussy-boy. "No one was sad to see him go," he concludes. Irina's all, so, then, what? You have nothing, honey. Jack just shrugs. She's all, you considering going into witness protection? Jack's all, nope. No way. That would leave Syd exposed. Can't do it. Irina's all, you'd have to take her with you, Bingo. Jack's not into that idea either. "Then if you're not here to say goodbye or give me some good hot monkey love, why did you bring this to me?" she smirks. "I need someone to brainstorm with," he lamely responds. Irina's all, uh, yeah, well, I'm sure the CIA has people for this sort of thing, right? Jack's all, yeah, yeah they do. But you're hotter than they are, and this is an excuse for me to get close enough to smell your prison perfume. Irina sort of gets what he's hinting at and orders him to bring her everything information resources has on Briault. Smoldering looks are exchanged. Jack subtly nods his head as if to say, "If there weren't security cameras up our asses right now, we would SO be performing a repeat of The Toaster Show."
Towering Inferno Of Nostrils. I'm sorry, people, but Sloane's storming down the halls of SD-6 and his nostrils are FUMING! He looks like a drawing of a dragon. Or, more specifically, the dragon in Shrek. Except she was a girl. Which he isn't, but...oh, never mind. Uncle Arvin busts into Face Doneaway's office and states, "I understand you have requested Sydney Bristow's computer." Face applies solvent to her lacquered lips in order to separate them from each other and says, "Well, three months ago, Agent Dixon reported evidence suggesting she's a double agent." Sloane glowers and is all, that was a misunderstanding, you freakshow! Syd was on a mission that Jack authorized. Put your face back together and fuck off. Face is all, yeah, I read your report, you small little man. "I think either she was an accomplice to his blackmail or else the two of them have been up to something more...long-term," she says as her nose falls off onto the desk. Furiously, she grabs a jar of rubber cement and attempts to affix her plastic proboscis back onto her skull as Sloane says, "Sydney Bristow is an excellent agent." After handing Face some masking tape, he starts to leave. "All the more reason he would enlist her help," she says, wrapping the tape around her face. Sloane looks back at her briefly as her chin cracks into a thousand pieces. He heaves the door off its hinges and exits as Face puts her fist up to her chin to hold everything in place.
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