Episode Report Card Erin: A+ | 273 USERS: B- YOU GRADE IT "Almost thirty hours" is more like it
By Erin | Season 1 | Episode 22 | Aired on 2002.05.12
At the same time as Sydney's running away from the Big Red Ball, Vaughn's running toward Sydney. He stops at the end of the hall, seeing Sydney running pell-mell toward him. She's running like the wind, but the water's definitely nipping at her heels. Vaughn just stands there like the leather-clad doofus he is. Under normal circumstances, Vaughn would have, of course, taken off at the first sight of the tidal wave heading for him, but this is Alias, and it's all a big set-up so that Vaughn falls behind, doesn't make it out, and dies.
Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say that out loud? Vaughn dies. Oops. I did it again. Sorry! My bad. Dead as a doornail. Oops! I just can't stop saying it! Dead. Dead dead dead. Buh-bye, Agent Amorous. We hardly knew ya!
Oh, shut up. He's not dead. Oh, except for the part where he SO IS. Sydney and Vaughn are running from the big bad water, and Sydney makes it through the door at the end of the hall, but Vaughn doesn't, and Sydney gets to watch through the conveniently placed window as the water fills up the hall behind Vaughn's head. Sydney desperately tries to break the glass with a fire extinguisher, to no avail, and gets nabbed by a guard and looks back up at the window and sees nothing. No Vaughn, no nothing.
If Vaughn's dead, then I'm First Lady Laura Bush, okay?
Another guard appears and knocks Syd out. She comes to and she's in the same damn chair she started in in Episode One. She looks up, and Khasinau's standing there with a tray of food. He tries to get her to eat, but she's lost her appetite. Khasinau gets up to leave and Syd stops him, telling him that she has questions for him. "You can ask my boss," gravels Khasinau. "Your boss?" queries Sydney. "I thought 'The Man' was the boss?" "He is," responds Khasinau, turning to go. "But I'm not The Man."
After he leaves, a shadowy figure in a tailored suit enters the room and stands before Sydney. "I have waited almost thirty years for this," says a rich female voice with a Russian accent. Tears, of course, well up in Sydney's eyes.
"Mom?" she whispers.
Dun dun DUN!
Next week on Alias: Ha! No Alias next week! No Alias 'til next year! Ha! Ha ha! Oh. That means I have one less freelance job. Dammit. Maybe the Wendy's on Lawrence is hiring…