Blah blah blah background blabbedy background bad Spy Mommy, BAD!
Previously on Alias: Jack confronts Irina with the announcement that, if Syd plays any part in Mama Hari's endgame, he will KILL her. And boy, he sounds serious. Before he can self-righteously stalk off, however, Mama Hari quips something about how Father Of The Year over here hasn't told Syd about what he did to her when she was a child. Bad Spy Daddy! We then watch the replay of Spy Mommy telling Syd that there are no explosives at the place where The Bible is. Spy Daddy then sneakily makes sure that there are. Boom boom. Buh-bye, Spy Mommy.
Okay, how psyched am I that the song that opens this episode is "This World" by Zero 7? They rule. And even though someone on the forums pointed this out, I feel all exclusive and cool and giggling inside because I actually bought the Zero 7 album, like, three or four months ago, after I heard one of their songs on the sampler disc that came with a copy of Q Magazine. Yes, I subscribe to Q Magazine. And that is why I think I'm cool. It's the little things that make me happy. Like thinking I'm cooler than everyone else because I subscribe to a fucking British import music mag.
As Mozez croons about another child being born and another race being won, Syd walks down the gated corridor to her mother's now empty cell. Dudes. This is the perfect usage of this song and its lyrics. Syd stands and looks around the empty cell, wondering about her mother's betrayal, as the lyric "another dream shattered, another day has begun" slides across the soundtrack. Excellent.
Later that day, or before that day, or sometime last year, Syd's at a Joint Intelligence Committee Special Hearing, saying her piece about Mama Hari. Basically, she says that Irina provided valuable and important intelligence, even though she's a heinous bitch of a mother who never loved her the way she should have -- and some snowy senator interrupts her, wanting to discuss last week's blow-up.
Syd explains that Mama Hari, before she gave herself up, cleverly concealed her operations manual, otherwise known as "The Bible." If by "cleverly concealed" you mean "stupidly shoved it away in a Madagascar shed without any security and then allowed it to be blown to shit." Syd then regurgitates the entirety of the latter portion of the last episode -- namely, that The Bible was housed at the Madagascar location and that it was safe to enter the building where it was being housed. "In truth, it was a trap," says Syd. "Derevko had rigged it with explosives. Just as we were about to enter the building, an agent spotted something on the satellite imagery." "That agent was your father," says some other stuffy senator.
Okay, what the hell does that have to do with anything? Who gives a damn if the agent was her father? And, like, we've all watched the damn episode so, uh, WE KNOW THAT. Has anyone else noticed that lately the first ten minutes of the episode blathers back at us a mini-episode synopsis? What, are we suffering from ADD? Do they think we can't RETAIN anything? I mean, I know ABC chose not to show this episode last weekend when they were supposed to because they're baseball-loving MORONS, but, like, did anyone else not remember the episode before that? Whatever. I already have a headache and it's only five minutes into the goddamn show. Viggo! Call Clooney! I need a little Ocean's Eleven session. Yes, I still love you, but variety is the spice of a life, so shut up and dial.
Anyway, Syd's all, yeah, he saved my life, what of it? Back in the present, or the past, or five years from now, Syd's milling around Mama Hari's recently vacated cell. She walks over to the window and finds one of her mother's precious diamond earrings. Anyone else thinking it has a hidden message encased within? Syd looks like she's about to cry, but Spy Daddy stops the waterworks before they start by entering the cell. By way of explanation, Syd's all, I wanted to stand in the cell and feel sorry for my motherless child within. "You tried to warn me about her so many times," she says. "I'm so sorry that I didn't listen to you." With a completely straight face, Spy Daddy says, "Some things you need to experience for yourself. I imagine, every parent tries to protect their child from that truth." Yeah, if by "protect" you mean "blow shit up so your child will hate and mistrust the only mother she's ever had, because you're a vindictive and manipulative bastard with completely misguided parental skills."
"I never said thank you," Syd says, her chin buckling. "You saved my life." "We're due for a briefing at SD-6," gruffs Jack. "We should go." Syd smiles and passes him, as he looks stoically tortured by what he's done. He follows after Sydney, and she quietly takes his arm. This must thrill the wayward father within, even though he's a vindictive and manipulative bastard with completely misguided parental skills.
Vienna, Land Of Pastries And Poignant Ethan Hawke Romances. A bunch of black cars pull up to a stoplight. When the light turns green, the guy in the car behind the first one starts honking impatiently. Black Car Number One ain't moving. Several men with guns and black masks exit the car directly behind Honking Guy and shoot the shit out of his car. The gun guys get back into their car and drive away, leaving Honking Guy to wallow in his own spilt blood. As they pass his car, one of them tosses something through the window, and the car explodes as they leave the scene of the crime.
The Dead Guy's name was Neil Hader, the so-called "Austrian Connection." This is according to Sloane, who's briefing the troops on the assassination in The Conference Room Of Endless Expositions. The nature of the hit indicates the work of "The Triad." Wait. Isn't The Triad that Chinese mob that framed that Korean kid in that horrible Robert Downey, Jr. movie True Believer? What are they doing in Vienna? And where's Robert D.? Where there's Robert D., there's certain to be quality drugs. Mmmm...quality drugs...ahem. Okay, so Dixon pipes up that this Hader dude was Triad. "They killed one of their own?" he questions. Sloane's all, yeah, can I continue?
Not until we've checked in on The Subbasement Of Dreams and Desires, King Kukla, Fran, and Ollie. Syd's obviously filling her non-boyfriend in on Triad. Vaughn's all, Triad? Never heard of 'em. You've never mentioned them. Are you dating them or something? Syd's all, it's a loose coalition of organized crime entities, and they deal mainly in drugs and prostitution, but lately, they've been expanding their horizons by dealing in weapons. And no, I'm not dating them. Although they're pretty hot in black facemasks. Vaughn's all, okay, then, why'd they kill one of their own? Syd's all, 'cause he was selling intel to SD-6, okay?
Back in The Conference Room Of Endless Expositions, Sloane explains that Hader told their SD-6 source Triad was engaged in a plot to deploy and develop sixteen -generation weapons. Dixon's all, any idea what "-generation" refers to? Sloane's all, nuh-uh. Not so much. And we're none too pleased about our lack of knowledge either. According to Hader, testing of the weapons is advancing ahead of schedule, which means they may well soon be put into the field. Marshall looks concerned for some reason, even though he's not at all integral to the scene and has nothing to do here except flex his overdeveloped jaw muscles.
Syd wants to know where the weapons are. Spy Daddy speaks up. "Budapest. During the Cold War, the Russians built a massive bomb shelter underneath the magistrate's bureau. The Triad has been using that shelter to serve as a testing facility." Pause. Pause. PAUSE. Everyone seems to be waiting for Sloane to speak up. He doesn't. Spy Daddy looks over at First Lieutenant Lunacy, who's contemplating his series of remarkable hangnails. Finally, Colonel Catatonia wakes up and announces that Syd's mission is to gain access to the facility, identify the nature of the weapons, retrieve the specs and test data off the central server, then proceed to the R & D lab and photograph the weapons. Everyone in the group exchanges not-so-subtle glances, suggesting that they're all onto the fact that Sloane's definitely ingesting great amounts of crackup corn flakes.
We return to The Subbasement Of Dreams And Desires so that Vaughn can sum up the situation by stating that SD-6 wants to engineer these -gen weapons for themselves. "Which we won't let happen," says Syd. "Okay," says Vaughn, getting up for some reason. "I'll confirm with your father about your counter-mission." Syd's all, whuh? Since when does my...Vaughn's all, he didn't tell you? Well, since his instincts were so ultra-sharp during the Madagascar shindig, Devlin gave him operational approval. That is just so, so wrong.
Syd's all, oh. Vaughn's all, "oh" is right, sweetheart, and I gots somethin' to say about Madagascar. He launches into a speech about how, when he and Syd were approaching the building, Operations was monitoring them via SAT radar scan. Okay, I had to pause a lot during this speech, because it's pretty technical and I wanted to get it right, but as a result, I wound up pausing on Vaughn's face a whole hell of a lot, and NOT when it looked good. Like, he's all half-lidded with his tongue sticking out half the time and it just cracked me up. I found myself pausing for no reason, actually. Hee. Vaughn with his tongue sticking out. Hee hee.
Ahem. We continue. "Now, at the last moment, your father switched to infrared," Vaughn says, "which is how he saw the explosives. We don't have routine satellite coverage over Madagascar. One had to be re-tasked. Now, the closest one was over the Indian Ocean, yet your father specifically requested the one over the South Atlantic which, of the two, is the only one that has infrared capability." How much do I love you guys, by the way? I recapped that WHOLE goddamn thing. Yeah, I partly did it so I could pause on his face in funny ways. But that's not the point!
Syd's all, he wanted to account for every possibility, and, like, he's my daddy! Vaughn's all, yeah, probably. Or, like, NOT. "Or it's possible," he says, "that he already knew there would be explosives at that entrance." Syd's all, what're you talking about, dude? He never trusted Mom, but, like, wait...you think my father wired that entrance in order to set up my mother? Vaughn's all, I really like my shoes. Syd's all, we were nearly killed, dude! Vaughn's all, I know. Syd's all, blah blah I'm indignant blah. Vaughn's all, he's done it before! Syd's all, WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM? Vaughn's all, what about Russek? Syd's all, I was a prisoner! Sloane was about to have me executed! Vaughn's all, I don't know why you're denying this possibility! Syd's all, okay, I understand that your authority is being superceded by that of my father, and you're TOTALLY feeling useless right now, but he saved our lives! Remember that, fuckwit! Vaughn's all, uh, yeah, again with my shoes. I really, really love them. Syd's all, I'll wait to hear from you, Captain Can't Touch This.
Foolio's "restaurant." Okay, so it exists. I'm still not sure it's not a front for some underground SD-6 drug operation, okay? Syd walks up, sporting shoulders that a linebacker would be proud of. She enters, and the place is JAMMIN'. She looks around for Foolio and finds her chatting with Will over in the corner. Syd and Foolio hug, both grinning madly, and Jennifer Garner and Merrin Dungey have absolutely gorgeous smiles. Merrin especially. Syd's all, where in the HELL did you find all these people? Foolio's all, can you believe it? I invited a hundred people, thinking, like, maybe, seventy would show up, and then Willage invites his entire NA group. Will's all, they're good people, ya know? Even though they really shouldn't be around alcohol or any other addictive substance. Foolio's all, I'm sure they're FABULOUS but, like, we make ninety percent of our profits off the bar, and they don't drink, okay? So fuck the twelve steps and GET 'EM DRINKIN'!
They all giggle at this realization that half the people in the place aren't contributing to Foolio's overhead, and the scene quickly moves from "restaurant opening" to "dance club disco." Um. Where's the food? Outside, Jack approaches in his Spy Cloak. Inside, Syd's dancing with Will and obviously having a great time, free of her Spy Chains. Spy Daddy enters and stands in the foyer of the restaurant, watching his daughter actually LAUGHING and having a good time. He's torn between doing his job and letting his daughter have three seconds of guilt-free fun. Foolio spots him and walks over. Before she can make it to him, however, Syd spots him, and Spy Daddy gives his head a jerk to the right, which is the universal symbol for "meet me outside NOW because it's really important."
Syd leaves Will and exits the restaurant. Okay, her shoulders are actually FRIGHTENING. I've dated guys with smaller shoulders than this. No, Viggo. I'm not talking about you. Is Georgie coming or not? He is? Well, tell Julio to get the whirlpool ready, then. Mommy needs some jet-powered action.
Spy Daddy informs Syd that her plane leaves for Budapest in an hour, and when she reaches the Triad's testing facility, she'll log onto their computer; Sloane expects her to disable the firewall so that SD-6 can directly download the specs for the -gen weapons. "Once you access the computer, you'll contact the CIA and give us the IP address," he says. "We'll download the specs." He pulls a card out of his wallet and hands it to Syd, instructing her to memorize it. It's the IP address that she'll give to Dixon in place of the real one. Dixon will think he's accessing the Triad's computer, but he'll actually be on a CIA server. "We've set up some dummy files for him to download," finishes Spy Daddy. Oh, Lord. Who gives a shit? Get on with it.
He then moves on to the real reason he's there. Washington has made a decision regarding Mama Hari. "What she did to you invalidated her agreement with the CIA. The government is pressing charges. They're going to seek the death penalty." Syd looks neither surprised nor happy about this announcement.
Flying high over Hell-Lay. Down in Ops, Vaughn's moving toward the water cooler or something. Okay, whatever happened to the CIA offices? I mean, when Mama Hari got her ass hauled in, the action switched to the Ops center, which admittedly is MUCH cooler than the everyday CIA offices, but, like, now that Mama Hari's gone, shouldn't the action move back to the offices? Like, this makes no sense. Oh. Wait. This is Alias, not Masterpiece Theatre.
Right, so Vaughn's over in some random corner when some really hot guy walks up and says, "Hey, daddy!" Vaughn turns and gets this adorable grin on his face. Vaughn asks Hey Daddy -- whose actual name is "Craig," but I like "Hey Daddy" better -- what he's doing here in L.A. as they shake hands. Turns out Hey Daddy's in town 'cuz Madagascar Customs picked up a U.S. national transporting explosives, and Hey Daddy's babysitting him until they get him to New York. Hey Daddy asks about Agent Sean. Vaughn's all, he was seriously hurt, but he's gonna be okay -- which is more than I can say for the nursing staff! Ha ha! Oh ho! My sides!
They exchange more humorless banter, until finally Vaughn has to make his exit. Hey Daddy lets him go with a promise to play ball the time he's in town. "What, do you think you're ready for this?" Vaughn challenges. "That's cute," says Hey Daddy, obviously able to kick Vaughn's ass in any sport other than hockey. They part ways, but Vaughn suddenly has a thought, which, considering he has a tough time thinking while he walks, makes him stop in his tracks.
Vaughn catches up with Hey Daddy as he's leaving. "The guy with the explosives," Vaughn huffs, "was it SAMTAX?" (Yeah, I know, someone pointed out the real name of the stuff on the boards. Don't care. I have approximately two hours before Georgie gets here and I really can't be bothered to find the name.) Hey Daddy's all, yeah, it was SAMTAX. Vaughn's all, vintage Russian shit? Again, Hey Daddy's all, uh-huh, how'd you know that? Vaughn's all, he's here? In L.A.? Hey Daddy's all, yeah. Vaughn's all, I have to talk to him. NOW.
CIA Holding Garage. I think. I mean, that's what it looks like. A garage where they impound evil cars or something. Anyway, Hey Daddy and Vaughn enter, with Hey Daddy telling the guard that Vaughn's with him. Vaughn shows another guard his badge, and then enters what looks like a van. Swarthy Man from the last ep is sitting handcuffed on a bench inside the van. Vaughn sits opposite him. The lighting in this scene is incredible. By that I mean that Vaughn looks really, REALLY, hot. Vaughn straightens his jacket and offers Swarthy Man a soda. Swarthy Man, vaguely resembling Jason Miller in Exorcist III, says nothing. Vaughn embarks on his intimidation spiel and basically tells Swarthy that it ain't a good time to be a terrorist and that his rights? Well, they don't mean so much. Interested in a small cell with no food and water? 'Cuz that's where yer heading, my friend. Unless, of course, you tell us who you were working for.
Swarthy just stares at him, channeling the DEVIL. Vaughn's all, okay then. We'll just let the piccys speak for themselves, shall we? I mean, of course, the satellite photos from four days ago showing you rigging a plantation building in the jungle near Sumbubba. Oh, like you REALLY know the name. And I'm NOT looking it up. I don't care that much. And Sumbubba's much funnier, anyway. Vaughn's all, those photos are pretty much all we need to put your ass away for life. That sound okay to you, Bigfoot? Because you ARE Bigfoot, aren't you? Have enough hair for it, anyway. Swarthy Man looks mildly interested. "So," says Vaughn, all hard-ass now, "I'm gonna ask you one more time. Do you want that soda?" Swarthy Man doesn't answer. Vaughn gets up to leave. Swarthy Man grabs his arm. "I was working for you, you son of a bitch," he says. "The CIA." You know, in case we didn't remember just where Vaughn is employed.
Vaughn's all, from what office? Swarthy's all, my contact was Jack Bristow, you moron. Vaughn's all, whew, huff, chuff, damn, I need some air. "You tell that bastard," states Swarthy, "I'm not taking the fall on this." Vaughn looks at him, looks away, looks back at him, and then wonders if there's any way in hell he can still get into Sydney's pants after telling her that her father set up her mother by risking her life.
Budapest, Land Of Fish Soup, Paprika, And Zsa Zsa Gabor. We're in the Spy Van with Syd and Dix. Syd's testing her transmitting equipment. She's sporting a very short blonde bob and some brainy glasses that actually look exactly like mine. Shout-out? Yeah, I think so. Even though J.J. Abrams has never even SEEN me or anything. Dix is all, once you disable the firewall, I'll download the database while you access the viewing room and take photos of the weapons. "The guards change shifts at noon, which gives you ten minutes to get into place," he says, checking his watch. Syd gathers her stuff and stops. "How do I look?" "Lip gloss," says Dix.
And then we're with Inspector Dingus, who's demonstrating the power of the lip gloss by smearing it on his funky lips. Ew. Yeah, it's a pistachio-flavored lip gloss, but flip it over and it's a miniature camera with compressed air injector. "Smile," says Inspector Dingus, "you're on TV." Syd and Dix both smile, obviously indulging Marshall and his many quirks. Dingus goes on to explain about the lip gloss, but is momentarily sidetracked when he points the camera at himself and keeps looking at the camera and then the screen and the camera and the screen. You know, just like when you used to pass an electronics store at the mall and they had video cameras set up in the window with monitors, and you spent countless minutes walking past without trying to look like you were looking at yourself but you SO were, and you kept trying to capture the casual elegance that was your natural way of moving but you just wound up looking all twisted and weird because you were actually trying to see yourself in every monitor possible? Or maybe that was just me.
Anyway, Dingus informs Syd and Dix that there are actually three cameras stuffed down inside the tube; he wanted there to be four, but then there wouldn't be room for the actual lip gloss. "Ya know," finishes Dingus, realizing that he's just contaminated Syd's gloss with this spittle-soaked lips, "I'll make ya a fresh one." Hee.
In the van, Dixon hands Syd the lip gloss. They smile at each other, fondly remembering their time with Dingus, and Syd exits the Spy Van to the kickin' Alias beat. Then she's walking through some halls with a short skinny guy with far too much stubble. He's all, so, you're making a family tree? Syd's all (in an American accent, FOR ONCE), it's a gift for my grandparents. "They're both from Budapest, but they lost everything in the war," she says, pulling out the lip gloss and putting it on. Stubble Guy yammers on about finding documentation of her grandparents' marriage as Syd notices some device on the wall, then quickly shoots one of the lip gloss cameras into the ceiling and pockets the tube before Stubble Guy finishes his boring sentence.
As Syd and Stubble Guy exit the hall, we see the camera that Syd shot into the ceiling focus onto the device on the wall. Dix informs her that the camera placement was good work. Looks like the device on the wall was a key entry pad. Stubble Guy shows Syd into a dimly lit room with file cabinets and informs her that birth records are in the file cabinets on the right, marriage and death records on the left. "The correlation is unintended," he laughs. Oh, no it isn't! Marriage is directly related to death, in my opinion. Get married? Die. Maybe not immediately, but sure as hell a LOT sooner than you'd like. Trust me, marriage = death. Yes, Viggo, I know you feel the same way. That's why I dig your chili so very much. Now check the bath temperature and light some candles. And when Clooney gets here, make yourself scarce. Don't worry, we'll all head over to Garfield Park for a little autumnal hoops action, okay? A promise is a promise.
Dix zooms in on someone entering a code into the keypad. Back at the file room, Stubble Guy's about to exit, but stops and turns to Syd. "One problem," he says. "All documents are in Hungarian. How do you expect to know what they're saying?" Syd's thought of this, apparently, since she answers, in Hungarian, that it ain't no problem. "Ah," says Stubble Guy. "That's good." "My grandparents taught me," says Syd with a smile. Stubble Guy smiles at her and leaves.
Dixon, who's watching the hallway with the keypad, informs Syd that she's clear to move in. Syd leaves the file room and makes tracks to the keypad hall. Dix tells her the combo, which she enters. It clears, and she opens the door and runs through the inner halls. She comes upon a door that's locked, but that's no problem for our Little Spy That Could. She just whips a lock-picking kit out of her breast pocket and goes to town. In a split second, she's inside. She tells Dix to stand by as she goes CIA silent. Oh, I mean "radio" silent. She turns off Dix and turns on the CIA via her necklace. "Mountaineer in position," she says, "come in, Boot Camp."
Okay, a word about the code name switch. It really pissed me off when I first heard it, and then, while I was recapping, it occurred to me that Dixon overheard the "Freelancer" code name back when he got shot. That led to Syd getting into trouble with Sloane, so I'm assuming that, when Spy Daddy told Sloane the alternate code name was his choice because he didn't trust Sloane, the CIA had to come up with a new code name for Syd. This isn't really ever explained to us, but I'm pretty sure it's the answer that makes the most sense.
Right, so, Spy Daddy's online and he copies Syd. She proceeds to pull an alarming array of hardware out of her charming seventies-styled suede jacket. She plugs something into the big old computer mainframe and tells the CIA to stand by for the IP address. She presses a couple of buttons and boom, she has the IP addy. She gives it to the CIA and informs them that she's opened port 47. Whatever THAT means. Spy Daddy tells her good work, and then instructs her to give the false IP addy to Dixon. I don't know about you, but the idea of my father telling me to do ANYTHING pretty much just used to set me off, so having my dad as my Ops Leader would probably not be the best idea. Wonder how Syd feels about it. "See ya at home," finishes Spy Daddy as Vaughn, who's listening in, glares at him.
Syd leaves the CIA behind and clues Dixon in on the IP addy. Dix is all, nice work, girlfriend; now just go get some pictures of the -gen weapons, and we're outta here. The viewing room is around the corner to your left. Syd packs up her gear and heads out. Dix tells her she's clear to exit. She exits and sneaks a peek down the hall she's supposed to head down. She wisely pulls out her lip gloss camera gun and plants a camera in the corner of the hallway she's supposed to go down, giving Dixon a bird's-eye view. He gives her the go-ahead, and she moves to the door she's supposed to enter. Locked. Again, not a problem for Ms. Make With The Lock-Picking Kit. Unfortunately, a couple of guards are arriving on the premises, as Dixon informs Spy Barbie.
She pulls back against an IKEA blue wall and whips out the thinnest cattle prod in history. She doesn't need to put it to use, however, because just as the guards pass, a white-coat-clad scientist exits through the door she's trying to enter, covering her and coincidentally allowing her easy access to the rooms beyond. She enters what appears to be an alarmingly empty room (I mean, really -- considering how hot-to-the-touch these -gen weapons are, you'd think they'd have, like, more than ONE person keeping an eye on them, but WHATEVER) and whips out her little spy camera. She lifts it to her eye as she approaches the observation window, only to bring it down when she realizes just what kind of "weapons" Triad is developing.
In a sparsely decorated makeshift classroom, approximately twenty children, ranging in age from six to maybe ten, are sitting at desks, upon which sit identical yellow boxes. At the sound of a whistle, the children remove the lids to the boxes. Sydney watches with an expression resembling recognition and horror as the children, blindfolded, proceed to put together parts that, when assembled, make guns. Syd gets it together enough to take some pictures, including some of the teacher who's leading the class. As the children complete their assignments and wave the guns in the air, Syd looks completely flabbergasted.
Hell-Lay. Amy Aquino (one of the hardest-working character actresses in the business) voice-overs that no one had any idea that the sixteen -gen weapons were going to be children. As Syd and Amy Aquino (and yes, I will be using her full name throughout the recap, because it makes me giggle) trot through Ops Center, Vaughn trailing them, Syd asks, "They were being trained to be sleeper agents?" "That appears to be the case," responds Amy Aquino. "See, the best spies have certain traits: proficiency with numbers, three-dimensional thinking, creative problem-solving...these abilities are all in evidence as early as five years old." Amy Aquino pulls something from her pocket and inserts it into a device on a desk, saying that it's footage the CIA downloaded from the Triad computer.
The footage shows the same classroom that Sydney photographed. Sixteen desks with children opening boxes full of gun parts, just like the ones Syd witnessed. Vaughn says something about how every first grader in the European Union takes a standardized test. (By the way, there is no "first grade" in Europe. If I'm not mistaken, there aren't "grades." There's primary school and secondary school, but no grades. Correct me if I'm wrong but I think the writers bunged this one up.) But a few years ago, Triad acquired the company doing the testing on the kids and added a series of questions designed to locate children with the special spy traits. "This year," says Vaughn, "twenty-eight children were indicated. Their parents were sent letters inviting them to participate in a month-long achievement program. Sixteen accepted."
"Six-year-olds acquire knowledge at an incredible rate," Amy Aquino goes on, as Syd purses her rosebud lips. "So, the basic skills of marksmanship, linguistics, visual, verbal cue recognition...it can all be taught in a matter of weeks." Syd leans down to the computer screen and points at the teacher. "Who's he?" she asks. "We're still working on that," says Vaughn. "So what happens to these kids at the end of the month?" asks Syd. "Triad sends them home," says Vaughn, "with the intent that, when they're grown, they will contact these kids and send them out in the field."
Amy Aquino pipes up that there was a rumor that the KGB began developing a similar program back in the eighties, but it was never confirmed. Mama Hari, anyone? "Before these kids are sent home, their memories are reset?" questions Syd. "Yup, that's right," says Amy Aquino. "They remember nothing except that it was extremely satisfying." Just then, Syd looks down at the screen and sees a child putting together some sort of towering puzzle.
Suddenly, we're in Sloane's office, looking through a warped looking glass at Padre Paranoid as he's reaching for a well-iced tumbler of amber liquid. He takes a sip, and we see that Jack is also in the room, and he's just watching Sloane as he silently loses his mind. Oh. Wait. We were actually looking at Señor Schizoid through the strangely unnecessary glass bubble on his desk. That explains the weird angle. It doesn't explain why Captain Crackhead is drinking in the presence of Jack Non-Daniels, now, does it? And poor Jacky doesn't even have a frosty beverage to keep him company. Don't worry. Since it's nearly three in the afternoon, I'm sure O'Sullivan's Pub down on the corner has a refreshing glass of malt liquor waiting for Agent Alcoholic.
Commander Space Cadet pulls a piece of paper out of the gray file sitting before him and shoves it toward Jack, who picks it up. "Someone forged my wife's name in the registry at our favorite bed-and-breakfast," rasps Sloane. "Weeks after her death." Jack looks at Arvin in surprise. "My concern is," continues Sloane, "that it's intended to be a message." Jack's all, dude, you have enemies, okay? Clearly, one of 'em wants to git to you. Sloane's all, it ain't my grief, homey. It's my GUILT.
Agent Amok lets loose about how cancer didn't kill Emily; he did. Just like guns don't kill people, people kill people. Or, according to Eddie Izzard, it's not the guns that are the problem, it's the bullets! Just take the bullets out and people would be aiming empty guns all over the place going, "Bang! Bang bang! You're dead! Lie down already! God! Just 'cuz I don't have bullets don't mean I can't kill you with this thing! Shut UP already!"
Anyway, Sloane spills it about how Auntie Em's cancer was in remission, but that very day, the Alliance told him he was being considered for partner. Unfortunately, Auntie Em had learned that Sloane was involved with SD-6. And even though Auntie Em believed that SD-6 was a branch of the CIA and NOT the rogue arms-dealing, drug-supplying, psycho-breeding facility they truly are, the Alliance decided to make Arvin's promotion contingent on Auntie Em's death.
"My choice was an easy one," says Colonel Needs Counseling. "I wasn't about to kill my wife. Emily was not a bargaining chip." Jack looks like he's inhaled far too many Pringles Cajun-Flavored chips and he's about to hurl. "Then I talked to her doctor," continues First Mate Frantic. "And I was persuaded that, despite this temporary remission, Emily's lymphoma would return and that it would slowly and painfully kill her." Jack's all, mmm-kay. And you asked me here 'cuz WHY?
Sloane's all, she'd already suffered so much, dude. The thought of her succumbing to this merciless illness, or, like, being offed by the Alliance...well, it was far too much for a nuthouse like me to handle. Oh, and I didn't want her to go through anything either. I mean, being married to me was probably painful enough, ya know? Ha ha. And horf horf. And hey, is there more scotch?
Sloane then confesses that he dissolved sodium morphate in a glass of red wine. The red wine put her to sleep, and the sodium morphate caused a heart attack. "She didn't suffer," concludes Uncle Unsound. Yeah, because having a heart attack while you sleep is SO painless. Jack grinds his back teeth and states, "I will find out who's doing this." Then he gets up to leave. Sloane stops him. "Jack, see who else was being considered for partnership." Jack looks back at Sloane, his features unreadable. "I was given a seat at the table," says Señor Soupy Sales. "Someone else was not."
Picnic Bench Of Boyfriend Wannabes And The Girls Who Make Them Think It's Possible. Will's going on about his newfound drug buddy, Tommy Marijuana. "We call him that because there's a 'Tommy Marijuana' and a 'Tommy Crystal Meth,'" Will explains. Hee. I'm sorry. That's just funny. As Syd chews her sprout sandwich, Will tells her that Tommy Marijuana thinks we're always the person we were in sixth grade. "Sixth grade was an awkward phase for me," says Syd, chomping on her carrot stick. Will's all, oh, come on! You? Awkward? But you're beautiful! Kiss me! Syd's all, big teeth, small eyes, and I was always a foot taller than everyone else, so I was always sorta hunched over. Yeah, because we believe that. Will's all, wish I coulda seen that! So do we all. If for no other reason but to prove that ugly girls can, indeed, grow up to be gorgeous.
"I dunno," says Will. "When I was in sixth grade, I was just sort of anonymous. You know, you had the smart kid, and the funny kid, and the good athlete, and...I was just 'Will.'" Bradley Cooper and his sexy stubble and gorgeous blue eyes glance sidelong at Sydney. Syd, not really impressed with Will just being Will, kind of looks around the park and then announces that they're putting Mama Hari on trial. "They're gonna ask for the death penalty," she says. Will, chewing the last vestiges of his tuna sandwich, can only breath out a stream of tuna-perfumed breath in response. He's totally eating tuna, dudes. You just know he is.
Syd goes on to say that the only way she's able to deal with this info is to tell herself that Mama Hari was NEVER really her mother. "The irony is, since she's been back, my father and I are closer than we've ever been," Syd concludes, returning to her box of vegetation. Will smiles at her calmly as her beeper goes off. It's Vaughn. She has to go. They clean up their mini-picnic as we wonder whether or not Syd goes home at night and eats entire buckets of fried chicken and troughs of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey.
Back at Ops, Vaughn's stalking through the place when a Desk Job turns and asks him about the guy with SAMTAX, "DeSouza." I'm assuming he means Swarthy Guy. Desk Job wants to know if they're supposed to be looking into that. Vaughn's all, excuse me? Desk Job's all, I just wanna know if that's our case or if you were pursuing it independently. Vaughn's all, I don't know what you're talking about. Desk Job's all, well, this sheet of paper that happens to be the daily situation report says that DeSouza was in town yesterday and that you visited him. At the same time that Vaughn's checking out the daily sitch report, Spy Daddy's checking out his copy. Desk Job's all, dude? Can I get a response here? Vaughn looks up at Spy Daddy, who has obviously seen that Vaughn's visited his explosives insider. At the same moment, Syd walks in, all aglow. "No, it's not our case," says Vaughn, tossing the sheet of paper onto Desk Job's head.
Vaughn moves toward Syd, but Spy Daddy makes it there first. "Hello, Sydney," he huffs as Vaughn approaches. "Agent Vaughn contacted you?" Syd's all, yeah, so, have we identified the teacher guy from Budapest? Spy Daddy and Vaughn, whose relative tension could probably power a small island and provide them with not only electric lights, but also cable television and internet access, put aside their little personal explosive secret for the moment so that Vaughn can fill Syd in on the Budapest situation. "Yes," says Vaughn. "Valery Kolokof."
Syd's all, Kolokof? Vaughn's all, you've heard of him? Syd's all, yeah, he used to run KGB's Psych Ops division. "Mind control experiments, psychoactive drugs -- I thought he was dead?" asks Syd. Vaughn's all, yeah? Well, so did we. Apparently, he traveled over to the Triad after the KGB dissolved. "A facial recognition scanner at the airport in Buenos Aires identified him yesterday," says Vaughn. Syd's all, what in the HELL is he doing in Buenos Aires?
Spy Daddy speaks up. "He has a house there. The project in Budapest is completed. The [CIA] team is raiding that facility as we speak." Spy Daddy, who seems to know an AWFUL lot about Kolokof, manages to look both pissed and in command at the same time. He gives Vaughn a few glares for good measure. Vaughn assures Syd that the children from the Budapest experiment have all returned home, and the CIA is monitoring each of them. "If Triad ever makes contact with them, we'll intercede," he concludes. Well, I'm certainly pleased to learn that the CIA not only has the manpower to sit around and watch a bunch of little kids with killer capabilities, but that taxpayer dollars are really going to work for us in this, a time of potential war and destruction. Yeah, I'm crabby. Shut up.
Syd's all, we'll need to grab Kolokof, see how many other kids he's done this to, who they are, where they are. Vaughn's all, there's a team prepping now. Syd's all, good, I'm goin' with 'em. Spy Daddy's all, uh, no, sending you to Buenos Aires would be an unnecessary risk, mmm-kay? Kolokof has an external and internal security detail. Syd cuts him off. "Dad, when I signed up with SD-6, I wanted to join. When I found out the truth...uh...these kids...I know what it's like to be used. I'm going to Buenos Aires." "Team leaves in twelve hours," says Vaughn. Syd turns to him. "Okay, anything else?" Vaughn looks directly at Spy Daddy. Spy Daddy looks back at him, then turns to Syd. "That's all," he says. "Okay," she says. "I'm going to pack." Syd exits, leaving Spy Daddy and Vaughn to face each other.
Vaughn looks at Jack. Jack looks at Vaughn. Forehead wrinkles. Pursed lips. More forehead wrinkles. More pursed lips. It's like they're having a War Of Expressions or something. "I saw DeSouza," says Vaughn. "He told me that you hired him to rig those explosives." Spy Daddy steps closer to Vaughn. "Irina Derevko would eagerly destroy all of our lives." "I'm not a big fan either," spits Vaughn. "It still doesn't justify what you did." "You do good work, Agent Vaughn," says Jack, with more than a hint of condescension, "but your consistent shortcoming, and you should know this, is your naïve sense of morality. Evil must be eliminated, by whatever means necessary." Vaughn's all, uh, I don't think Syd would agree with you on that one, Papa Don't Preach. Jack's all, yeah? Well, Sydney will NEVER know about what I've done, okay? Vaughn's all, you betrayed her trust, okay? I won't. "Now, she should hear it from you," he says, "but if you don't tell her, I promise you, I will." His piece spoken, Vaughn retreats from the battlefield. Jack just looks directly into the camera and spews a raspberry.
Ah, opera. Very soothing. And a bathroom. The shower's running. Hmmm. Wonder who's in there. Is it Syd? Preparing for her journey? No, it can't be. Because the opening shot was of a mansion. A mansion...hmmm...wonder who that could be...AAAAAGGGGGHHH!!!! Oh, Jesus. Oh, sweet Lord above. Oh, God. Oh, Mary. It's SLOANE. Naked! NAKED SLOANE. Stop. STOP! I mean, I know the guy has to shower and everything but, like, DON'T SHOW US!
Note: This is not a reflection on the talent and ability of Ron Rifkin. He is a truly gifted performer and, as many interviews have shown us, a delightful and lovely man. However, he's no Viggo Mortensen or George Clooney, and the fact that he's buck nekkid right now doesn't really thrill ANYONE with a pair of eyes.
Right. Professionalism. Right. Señor Slappy Pants gets out of the shower, wrapping a towel around himself (thank GOD), and walks over to his big old mirror so that he can confirm that he is, indeed, hairy-chested. The opera music soars as he sees a single glass of red wine in the reflection. He turns, and no, he's not imagining it; there is actually a glass of red wine on the counter opposite him. Agent Abnormal is NOT amused and stalks through the place, finally opening the door into a room that houses many surveillance screens, all of which are fuzzy. Sloane picks up the phone and dials. When someone answers, Sloane's all, why was the security system disabled? Disembodied phone voice answers that it was disengaged onsite ten minutes ago. "I'll put the system back online, sir," says Disembodied Voice. Sloane looks at all the screens and sees nothing as Disembodied Voice asks him if everything's okay. Sloane just fingers the phone like it's his long lost velveteen rabbit and it's speaking to him about the man who lives in the tree stump.
Buenos Aires, Land Of Evita Peron And Political Upheaval. We see a beautiful hilltop house with a guard in front. D'oh! A bullet knocks the guard down. Syd's in town, and she's taking names and -- well, she's just taking names, because the guard's just sedated. Damn. Does she ever KILL anyone? I mean, anyone other than Bucky McSalivapants. Whatever. She sedates the guard, and she's goin' in. Someone on her headset says, "Copy that, Mountaineer." God, "Mountaineer" is one sucky code name.
Syd moves in as several black-clad and probably sexy-as-hell CIA men get her back with guns and binoculars. Syd makes it to an area near the pool and unloads a pack of stuff. She pulls out a big silver box and looks up at the roof of the building to the pool area. Yeah, I don't know what she's doing either. But I bet it's more interesting than my navel lint, which, strangely, George Clooney is finding rather attractive at the moment. George! Stop that! It tickles!
Syd places the silver box thing down on the ground, still looking up at the roof of the building. She presses some button, we hear a countdown sound, and Syd sets herself on the lip of the silver box thing. As the countdown sound reaches its end and a consistent beep is heard, we realize, as Syd is shot into the air, that this was yet another one of Inspector Dingus's clever devices. Fortunately, we're spared one of Inspector Dingus's trademark rambles on just what it is and how it works.
So, Syd lands on the roof, and a baddie makes for her. She quickly dispatches him with yet another non-death sleep dart and makes her way across the roof. She looks over onto the pool and sees a man doing laps. She watches him as he concludes his exercise and gets out of the pool, donning his robe as he passes a couple more guards who are deeply embroiled in a game of Trivial Pursuit 20th Anniversary Edition.
Syd informs the CIA troops that she spots four guards in the courtyard, and that Kolokof just went inside. She tells the troops to get into position, because she's heading to the junction box. All the CIA dudes must LOVE taking directions from a hot chick in leather, because they all fall into position. Syd, who's at the junction box as promised, instructs the CIA dudes to concern themselves with the guards; she's got Kolokof. On her signal, they're supposed to take out the guards. And, as quickly as you can say 3-2-1, Syd cuts the lights, the CIA dudes move in, and there are some seriously dead Kolokof guys.
Syd makes it unscathed -- shocker -- into Kolokof's house. She moves forward, seeing some flames to the left of the foyer. She hears footsteps, sees something in her peripheral vision, and reacts, launching herself onto the escaping Kolokof. She nails him, but he kicks her off. She retreats, and he brandishes a stun gun. She tries to relieve him of the stun gun by a powerful roundhouse kick with her left leg, but he foresees this and evades, only to hit Syd directly in her solar plexus with the electric force. Syd falls back as Kolokof blabbles something at her in Hungarian or some shit. He moves toward her, obviously ready to finish her off, but Syd has other plans and shoves him away, placing him directly in some water feature he unwisely had installed in his hallway, the stun gun providing enough electricity to electrocute him within an inch of his life.
Syd hauls his electrocuted ass out just as the CIA dudes make their way in. They're all, you good? Syd's all, yeah, it's him, it's Kolokof. The CIA dudes pick up Kolokof, presumably still alive, and haul his ass outta there. Syd just breathes heavily and looks down on a blue-tinged stump that sits on a small table. She approaches it, somehow recognizing it as something familiar to her. Without even blinking, she places her hands around the base and quickly puts piece after piece atop the original stump until it resembles a tower. Syd looks down at her construction and is amazed at what she just created.
Hell-Lay. Night. Syd's paying an evening visit to Amy Aquino. "You want me to hypnotize you?" Amy Aquino asks. "I want you to take me back to whenever it was I first saw that puzzle," Syd responds. Amy Aquino's all, but you say you don't remember ever seeing that puzzle. Syd's all, but I must have! Amy Aquino's all, Agent Bristow, baby, I've seen your profile! Your spatial intelligence is, well, stellar. It's pretty much no surprise that you could solve the puzzle, okay? Syd's all, but I wasn't solving it, okay? When I was standing there...it was like...I remembered where every piece belonged. There weren't no THOUGHT involved. Okay? OKAY? "You said the KGB developed a similar project," says Syd. "It's possible that my mother knew the techniques. And...maybe she..."
Amy Aquino's all, Agent Bristow, if you're lookin' to uncover a trauma, then, baby, I need to warn you: hypnotic regression can trigger severe nightmares, flashbacks, acute depression…Syd breaks in and tells Amy Aquino that, in order to do what she does, maintaining her cover at SD-6, she compartmentalizes a LOT, "but the idea that I might have been programmed to be a spy...I can't tuck that away. I need to know what happened to me." Amy Aquino looks at her kindly.
Sloane's office. Detective Daffy is enjoying an early-morning screening of what appears to be a violent coup of some sort. Some bald lackey enters, bearing a plastic bag. "Excuse me, sir," Bald Lackey says. "I analyzed the wine. Is this a good time?" Sloane puts the popcorn down and rips himself away from the carnage, turning to look at Bald Lackey. Officer Off His Nut indicates that it's a perfect time to chat by moving away from the TV screen and walking over to his desk. Bald Lackey informs him that there were no fingerprints on the glass and the wine was a Hedley '99 Cabernet Franq, an unremarkable vintage.
"What is remarkable," says Bald Lackey, "is what I extracted from inside the wine. I was so surprised that I redid the test. But I'm certain it's, uh, VTX." Bald Lackey places a small plastic bag on Sloane's desk. "A, uh, calcium-based antidote. Extremely scarce." "Antidote to what?" Sloane spits. "Uh, mainly heart-attack-inducing toxins, cerotic acid, sodium morphate..." Whoops! Where have we heard THAT before? Monsieur Mad As A Hatter holds onto the plastic bag and looks down at his desk. "VTX simulates death," continues Bald Lackey. "It slows the lungs, nearly stops the heart; which is how it prevents the poisons from causing cardiac arrest. And when the VTX is metabolized, the, uh, the body, it returns to normal."
Uncle Unhinged, trying to make this VERY clear to those of us in the audience who have hit ourselves over the head with bricks and therefore can't comprehend the simplest of concepts, says, "So if someone who was poisoned by sodium morphate were given VTX, they would appear to die?" "Yes, sir," says Bald Lackey. "Well, assuming they had no other heart conditions, in eight to twelve hours, well, they'd be just fine." First Mate Frenzied looks off into a corner of his office, calmly sticks some mouse ears on his head, and starts humming the theme from Hawaii Five-O.
Amy Aquino's Hypno Den. Amy Aquino tells Syd that she's going to count back from three; when she gets to one, she wants Syd to tell her where she is. Okay, 3...2...1...we're in Hypno Land. Syd's walking up a stairway. She's doused in an almost clinical blue light. She turns the corner and sees a young girl lying on her four-poster bed. "Where are you Sydney?" says Amy Aquino in a voice-over. "It's me," Sydney whispers, as her child counterpart not so subtly tucks her hair behind her right ear. The childhood Sydney is drawing pictures with crayons. "It's me," voices over Adult Sydney as she watches over her childhood self on the bed, "in my room. When I was little."
Back in Amy Aquino's Hypno Den, Syd evicts a couple of tears from her left eye. Amy Aquino asks her to tell if there's anything in this hypno world that resembles the puzzles they're looking for. Back in Hypno Land, Kid Syd's running down the stairs in her overalls. She makes it to a doorway, and we hear Jack's voice say something like, "I'm taking care of it. I'm taking care of her. Christmas. That'll be soon." As we hear his voice say, "Christmas is all settled," we switch between the Kid Syd and the Adult Syd's visages, showing how the child thought that "Christmas" really meant Santa and presents and not training children to be assassins and how FUCKED UP Syd's childhood really was.
Sydney spies the puzzle she's been looking for. Back in Amy Aquino's Hypno Den, Syd's freaking out. "Nothing can happen to you now, Sydney," says Amy Aquino. "You're safe." Syd's chin is buckling, though, and when we go back to her childhood, Sydney's watching as Kid Syd is calmly constructing the tower puzzle. Amy Aquino's trying to offer comfort with her voice-over, but it really isn't helping, because Kid Syd is putting this puzzle together in record time. Suddenly, the puzzle isn't a puzzle, but a gun, and Kid Syd's putting THAT together in record time. Kid Syd shoves the bullet cartridge in and holds the gun up as a signal that she's completed her task.
"Look around you," says Amy Aquino, back in her Hypno Den, "tell me who else is there." Sydney, full-on crying at this point, escapes back into her childhood. Kid Syd looks up to her left for approval on a job well done, and there's her father, taking the gun out of her hand and saying, "Good work, Sydney." Back in Amy Aquino's office, Syd gasps and wakes up, fully aware of the damage her father's done to her.
As the beginning strains of Joni Mitchell's "River" play over the soundtrack, we see Sydney standing in an alley of some sort, watching as a car screeches up in the rain. It's Jack. "Sydney! Get in!" he shouts. When she doesn't respond, he gets out of the car and goes to her. "What is it?" he asks. She looks up at him, her expression hooded. "I have this memory," she says, "from when I was six years old." Syd looks out to the rain, watching it fall. "My mother had just died in a car accident. I felt so scared. You were never home. So, who was going to take care of me? Then I overheard you talking. You were in your study. On the phone. You were talking about Christmas. About me." Syd shrugs. "You were taking care of my Christmas presents. Suddenly, I...I felt so safe. You were taking care of me."
Syd's expression hardens. "That memory is a lie. You weren't talking about that at all." Jack's expression changes to one of a father quickly realizing that he's done wrong by his only daughter. "Sydney," he starts. "I've seen the footage," she says calmly. "Mom's briefings with her KGB handlers. She was sent her for one specific purpose. To steal information from you about a project you were developing for the CIA. An operation to train children to be American spies. Project Christmas." Syd's eyes are welling up with tears, even though it's obvious that she doesn't want them to.
"Ever since Mom came back," she says, barely containing herself, "you were afraid she'd figure out what you did to me. You weren't trying to protect me from her, you were trying to protect your secret. So, the first opportunity you had, you set her up. In Madagascar..." "Sydney, understand something --" "No, DAD, YOU understand something. You took away my choices in life. You programmed me to be a SPY." Jack kind of swallows and looks like he'd rather be in a pit of vipers doused in gasoline than right there at this moment. "I will never forgive you for this," says Syd, walking off into the rain. Jack looks after her, knowing that the daughter he'd only recently regained is lost once again.
Not having anywhere else to turn, Syd manages to make her way through the many security hubs without fanfare and enters Ops. Vaughn's hanging at his computer, obviously having just kicked ass at a game of Solitaire. Syd walks in and stands in the doorway, her mascara dripping down to her chin. Vaughn cracks his knuckles and challenges every last one of the desk jockeys to beat his high score, looks around randomly, and spies Syd, drenched, sad, and obviously in need of a hug.
He gets up without hesitation and moves toward her. She finally starts to cry for real and, as his arms envelope her, she completely breaks down, sobbing onto his shoulder. They hold onto each other as Joni Mitchell fades away...
I have nothing funny to say. But I do have something funny to do. George? Honey? Grab the ostrich feathers! It's playtime!
time on Alias: There's more Uncle Ugga Ugga and some sacrificial behavior on Spy Daddy's part. And Will gets an assignment that could blow the lid off Spy Daddy's errant ways. Doesn't matter. Sydney's STILL not gonna sleep with him.