Episode Report Card Erin: A+ | 1 USERS: A+ YOU GRADE IT "Almost thirty hours" is more like it
By Erin | Season 1 | Episode 22 | Aired on 05.11.2002
Syd drives onto a dock, and we jump cut directly to a shot of her zipping up the scuba suit. There is a momentary shot of torso and black bra which, if I know this audience at all, and I think I do, has probably been transferred to digital, cut and re-cut so that there's only that shot over and over and over again, and put up for auction on eBay.
Syd gears up and checks her watch. A little under twenty minutes. She hits the water. Dixon, who's been hanging out elsewhere on the dock watching Syd's every move, adjusts his rearview and sees Syd slip beneath the surface.
Whoops.
After the break and a visit to the place we like to call Grand Theft Auto 3, Julio props me back up in front of my computer with a steaming cup of TheraFlu and a box of Kleenex so huge it could easily house a Third World country. I'm ready. Bring on the scuba.
Syd's swimming. And she's swimming. And then she's blowtorching. And then she's pulling off a sewage grate. Speaking of sewage grates, Vaughn's getting shit dumped all over him in a meeting with Devlin, Agent Sean, and The Weasel. Vaughn's all, why the hell am I here? Why is any of us here, Agent Apathy? Why do we exist? Why is the sky blue? What if we were all purple and had plaid hair? Mmmm…TheraFlu…
Devlin's all, you're here because Agent Sean spilled the beans that you're suspicious about Syd. Agent Animosity's all, staring. I am staring at Agent Sean. You are dead meat, you snitching little motherfucker. I am SO gonna kick your ass as soon as we get out of this meeting. Speaking of meetings, Syd's having her very own conversation with the interior grate of a sewage pipe. She hauls herself out and starts removing some of her gear.
Then Spy Daddy's pulling up somewhere. Dunno where. He flashes (ew!) his badge at the guard. That's all we see. Then we're back with Vitriolic Vaughn as he's trying desperately to backpedal out of his faux pas. He's all, dudes. I'm not suspicious. She just seemed troubled, that's all. The Weasel's all, but that's not the word you used, now, is it? Vaughn's all, staring. I'm staring now.
Meanwhile, Syd's speeding her Lycra-lined way through the green-hued halls of the surrounded-by-water facility. With only five seconds to spare, Syd plays the Sloane password tape, puts her latex fingerprint on the pad, and gains entrance. Then we're running and running. Syd locates the page, rolls it up, and puts it in her handy waterproof blank Rambaldi page tube. Somewhere else across town, Spy Daddy's walking down one of the many X-Files hallways in search of Dana Scully's DNA results or something. He goes to a big-ass steel container, enters a code, and opens it.