Episode Report Card Erin: C+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Swing Out, Sister
By Erin | Season 3 | Episode 20 | Aired on 04.24.2004
Moronen tells Vaughn that he won't survive the protocol, not now that he's endured so much already. "Whaddayoucare?" sweats Vaughn. "Not everything was a lie," states Moronen, playing the "I really did love you" card. Sark enters with a couple of his thugs, and they get Vaughn down from the straps and place him on a cot. Yeah. Even covered with sweat and blood, Michael Vartan's still hot. Sorry. It's true. Then Sark and Moronen engage in a little dinner theatre production of Let's Make The Hot Guy Think You Love Him Even Though You Really Don't. She pretends to want to stop Sark from administering the protocol, and Sark pretends to wonder why she's suddenly concerned for her husband. She continues to plead, saying that if Vaughn dies, the information goes with him. Sark continues not to care, tossing a slap her way, just for good measure. Woo! Slap her some more, Sark! It's about damn time! Anyway, it's a rousing show and the octogenarians in the back gumming their pork chops stop in mid-chew in order to catch every word. Can you tell I'm not buying it?
This whole charade is basically concocted so that Vaughn can think his wife is actually on his side. This way, when Vaughn wakes up from the "protocol" (which, I suspect, consists of a little sleeping aid or something, because, really, nothing at all happens to him, except that a bit later in the episode he just…wakes up), he'll think that his wife is actually a good guy, not the scheming whore she really is. Sark orders Moronen out of the room, and Sark starts the protocol.
In another part of Whothinksthisshitupville, Syd's questioning the validity of brain waves being able to be used to locate someone. We're alllll questioning that validity, Syd. Trust us. Sloane blahs something about how each individual has a signature brain wave pattern that identifies them. So? So, the Department of Defense has created a satellite that can PICK UP THESE BRAIN WAVES FROM SPACE. Yeah. Yeah, I know. That sound you hear is of ice clinking in the glass of MY CEREBRAL HEMORRAGE. More Woodchuck Pear Cider, please. STAT.
Before we can even BEGIN to question this entirely annoying scenario, Jack pops up, saying he had someone upload the EEG readings to the satellite and they have a location. Chechnya. To be more precise, a labor camp on the outskirts of Kamyshev. To be even more precise, The Passenger is there under the alias of Talia Kozlov, and she's being held in Sector C. Nice work, Jack. Remind me to send you a list of all my ex-boyfriends I'd like to find so I can kill them. I have confidence you can do the job right. Sloane sort of wonders aloud that his daughter is incarcerated. Jack just says that they've been operating under the assumption that she's an innocent in need of rescuing, but now that she's incarcerated, maybe they should think twice about that whole damsel-in-distress thing. "She's my daughter," grits Sloane. "And we're going to find her." Sloane walks off, and Jack once again tries to warn his daughter that her sister may not be in the market for a little sisterly love, and Syd really should reconsider her thoughts on just who her sister actually is. Syd just yammers something about how, before she really knew Irina, she thought that she and her mother would be best friends. Then, of course, she got to know Irina and, well, she was devastated to learn the truth. "I won't make that same mistake twice," says Syd. Yeah. Check with me again on that in about twenty minutes, Syd.