Previously on Alias, Vaughn nabbed himself a bug, and it ain't the kind that Norton Anti-Virus can handle. Oh, and Syd managed an eleventh-hour save for both her wayward parents. Which means, THANK GOD, that Spy Mommy's back and she's BETTER THAN EVER.
After discovering that the red fluid leaking from his fingertips isn't a bad batch of Revlon Red Rampage nail polish, Vaughn smartly reaches for the Band-Aids and makes with the patchwork. Michael Vartan has really lovely hands: square-tipped fingers and strong vein-y backs. Mmmm. God, I'm a hand whore. Yes, Viggo. You have lovely hands. They're often just a bit too dirty for my taste, but that's just something I have to put up with, isn't it? As long as you wash them before you put them to use in the bedroom, I couldn't care less how dirty they get...
Vaughn looks at himself in the mirror as he puts on his tie. His expression is one of intense concern and worry. I haven't mentioned it of late, because I haven't really noticed, but I'd have to say that Vaughn's sporting about ninety-five new forehead wrinkles, bringing the current count to approximately 14,982.
While Vaughn checks his reflection for pulsating sores and suppurating wounds, we hear a phone ringing and then Doctor Sweater Vest on the other end, apparently returning a phone call that Vaughn made to him earlier. Vaughn's all, uh, yeah, thanks for getting back to me so soon. Uh. So. Uh. The thing is, I think we have a problem over here. Doctor Sweater Vest's all, I know you're worried, dude, but we ran every available test for viral infections. You're cool, man. Vaughn's all, uh, yeah, but there's this whole blood thing going on with my fingernails, Doc. Do you think that's a problem? Doctor Sweater Vest's all, uh, no, not really. I mean, not unless DYING is a problem. So, here's what we're gonna do, Captain Contagious -- you're gonna stay put, and we're gonna send a containment team over to pick your ass up. Vaughn's all, uh, no, actually, there's someone I have to see first.
After speeding along the freeway, Vaughn shows up at Mama Hari's Den Of Delights. She's sitting on the floor, paging through her ever-present Book Without A Cover. I'm not really sure just what the book's supposed to be, but it's big enough to actually be used as a weapon, so I'm pretty damn surprised she's allowed to hang onto it.
Before Vaughn can even say anything, Irina says, "I know what you did for me. Proving Sydney's father betrayed her in Madagascar. I would have been executed for that. Thank you." Vaughn's all, yeah, well, thanks for the thanks, but I didn't do it for you, you barely contained viper. Irina gets up and walks over to him, making an attempt at a sympathetic expression, but really just looking extremely sexy while Vaughn just happens to be on the other side of the glass. She touches her face with one of her tremendously large hands. Dudes. It's true. Lena Olin's hands are HUGE.
There was this recent interview with Jennifer Garner where she mentioned that she realized Lena Olin had huge hands just like her and felt an immediate kinship with the actress assigned to play her mother. Now, I never noticed that Jenny's hands were inordinately large, and up to this point, I'd never noticed that Lena Olin's hands were inordinately large. But now, with her hand held up to her face like that, uh, THEY'RE TERRIFYING. Seriously. Her hand's almost three times the size of her head. She could smack yo eyes out yo head with one little slap. Screw that whole "international terrorist" moniker; this woman's hands are loaded weapons.
So anyway, Mama Hari strokes her face with her snowshoe of a hand and tells Vaughn that she owes him her life. "Thank you," she husks. Vaughn's all, well, thanks for the thanks, sister, but I didn't do it for you. Mama Hari gets up and walks over to the glass. She's all, well, whatever, dude. I owe you my life. Vaughn's all, you owe me my father's life, okay? Now, moving on, when I was hanging out on the gurney down in Cap Ferrat, I noticed that dickweed Khasinau experimenting on all sorts of people who'd been exposed to that ooky liquid from inside the Big Red Ball. What in the HELL did he learn from doing that, anyway? I kinda wanna know if he came up with a cure, because, well, I kind of don't have a lot of time here. Mama Hari's all, ooooh, so you're the one who's sick! I heard about you! Vaughn's all, uh, yeah, you know, my shoes are really shiny.
Mama Hari sees her opportunity and takes it. "Tell me how you feel about my daughter." Vaughn's all, uh, lady, that is SO none of your business, antidote or not, okay? Mama Hari's all, shut up and answer the question, you navel-gazer. "Are you in love with her?" Vaughn's all, I so don't know why that should matter to you. Mama Hari's all, look, grease my palm, dude. Scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Vaughn stops looking at his shoelaces long enough to say, "Help me and I'll tell you what you want to know." What happens if what she really wants to know is how to make a delectable cheese soufflé and the whole "do you love my daughter" question is just a decoy, dude? Her help won't matter much then, will it?
Foolio's Fantasyland Of Fine Foods. Will and Syd are sitting at a table, filling salt shakers. Why? Why is Syd helping Foolio with her salt shakers? I mean, she's not running this restaurant out of the basement of her apartment building, is she? Like, if she can afford to open up a fucking restaurant, then she should damn well be able to hire a couple of tattooed college students to shove salt into shakers. Whatever.
Will wants to talk to Syd and asks if it's safe. Syd gives him the "hang on a minute" sign and whips out a lipstick, rolling it up to reveal a lovely shade of mellow mango or something. Will's all, seriously? There's a bug killer in the lipstick? By the way, I think that "seriously" is a shout-out to me. Sydney says it later in the show, and I think the writers actually have nothing better to do than stick a "seriously" in the middle of their dialogue, just so I can feel that someone out there in Hollywood is wasting several hours reading my retarded recaps and wants to show their appreciation. Because I'm a dork.
Anyway, Will tells Syd that he looked up twenty years of standardized tests to see if any of Vaughn's IQ questions showed up. Nope. Not a chance. "But there was a year missing and the Educational Testing Service didn't have a hard copy or a disk. I mean, it's like 1982 never existed." Syd's all, well, maybe someone wanted it to disappear. Foolio comes over with a bowl of something and a spoon and asks Syd to taste her bouillabaisse and report on whether it's too spicy or too salty. Why is Foolio in the kitchen whipping up bouillabaisse when she was previously just a caterer who BURNED TURKEYS ON THANKSGIVING? No, really. The woman used to pass around pigs in a blanket, and now she's all, "Here, try my shiitake quiche with red pepper saffron sauce!" The hell?
Syd gets rid of Foolio by telling her that the damn soup is perfect. Foolio leaves, and Syd fills in Will on her dad's involvement with Project Christmas. Syd's all, my dad developed Project Christmas, and it used standardized tests that asked specific questions to identify children the CIA could later recruit as agents. Will's all, uh, kids? Yes, Will. Kids are the preferred subjects for IQ tests, you moron. Syd's all, dude, the KGB sent my mom here to steal details about the program. But the CIA stopped the operation. Vaughn thinks Russian intelligence is still running the program in order to recruit Americans. Before Will can offer up a bon mot along the line of, "Huh? Really? Whuh?" Syd gets phone call from Kendall requesting her presence at Ops Center.
Ops Center Of Potentially Dying Love Interests. Syd enters and walks over to Kendall, asking whassup an' shit. Kendall tells her that Vaughn's developed symptoms of the virus. Syd basically freaks out, but without showing it too much. She's all, do we -- are we -- is it -- are you sure it's -- Spy Daddy enters, and Syd frantics over to him. She's all, where is he? What's he wearing? Do I have time to tell him how much I love him and how I'll never love another again if he dies? Jack's all, he came in to see your bitch of a mother and collapsed shortly thereafter. And no, I can guarantee you won't have time to tell him ANYTHING involving love, because that's just how cruel J.J. Abrams really is.
Syd goes to her mother, who's sitting on her bunk reading The Book Of Nothingness. Syd's all, is there an antidote? Mama Hari's all, yes, but it's in a former Soviet training base for nuclear submarine personnel in Paldinski. Syd's all, yeah, so? Big deal. Who's operating the base now? Mama Hari gets up and walks over to the glass. Seriously, how much of a bad-ass is Lena Olin? I mean, how in the HELL does she get her arms to look like that? As Mama Hari tells Syd about the location of the antidote and the chance that it won't even work for Vaughn, Syd's eyes well up with tears, and she bites her coral-frosted lips.
After meeting with her mother, Kendall, Spy Daddy, and Spy Barbie are all chatting with the resident fat geeky specialist about the antidote. Fat Geeky Specialist says, "This antidote sounds almost as dangerous as the infection." Turns out the serum is a blood derivative. "Meaning, you just can't get the medicine and inject it into the sick patient," continues Fat Geeky Specialist. "You need blood from the patient. In this case, Vaughn. The equipment that manufactures the serum reads the blood and creates a custom genetic-specific antidote for that particular patient." Wow. That sounds complicated. How much dope do these writers smoke on a regular basis? And how many of them are Dr. Who fans?
Some dude walks up and enters the circle. Kendall introduces him as Agent Chapman and says that he'll be running the op from Ops Center while Spy Daddy leads the team into Paldinski. The mission gets all set up, and Syd turns to Fat Geeky Specialist to ask the question that we're all thinking: "How much time does Vaughn have?" Fat Geeky Specialist is all, uh, three days. Three days? The hell? Wasn't her mother supposed to be executed in three days? "Three days" is a very popular span of time on this show. Is it just because it's short enough to be scary, but long enough to shove in at least one hot-chick outfit and two episodes of extended ass-kicking? I just don't get it.
U.S. Naval Medical Center. Syd enters and walks over to Vaughn's Bubble Boy bed as The Accordions Of Unrequited Love And Hunky Leading Man Bleed-Outs fill the soundtrack. Some trilly Irish-like voice wisps about "slumber my darling" and "thy mother is near," which is actually kind of stupid because, like, Syd's not Vaughn's mother and he sure as HELL ain't slumbering. It's just a weird choice of music, is all I'm sayin'.
Syd sits down and pulls on surgical gloves (no, not for THAT -- EW!) as Vaughn sort of wakes up and looks over at her and emits a sleepy "hi." Syd, keeping her tears in check, returns his greeting and fills him in on the antidote. She's all, I talked to my mom and I'm going to go get the antidote. Vaughn's all, how dangerous is it? Syd's all, getting the serum? Piece o' cake, dude. But, uh, I need to take some of your blood with me, baby. Vaughn just kind of looks away. Syd reaches in and preps his arm. Vaughn is all ashy and pathetic, and Syd's look of tender concern is very emotional. But. Um. Why is SHE taking the blood? Where are the nurses? And it's not like Vaughn's in his own room or anything. We can see directly behind Syd's head that there's a nurses' station, and there are at least two or three doctors back there. Like, taking blood isn't top secret now, is it? I mean, it IS a naval hospital isn't it? I'd imagine they're very used to treating members of the CIA. Again, why am I even spending time with logic? Logic + Alias = Frustrated Recapper.
Syd takes Vaughn's blood and starts to move away, but he takes her hand and tells her to be careful, and then it looks like he may say something more but gets too tired and rolls over. Syd caresses his hand, and the tears start flowing. She doesn't have time to start really sobbing, however, because Vaughn starts crashing and bleeding internally. Now, suddenly, doctors are everywhere. Where the hell were they before when Syd was all taking blood and shit? Shhhh. Don't think, just type.
As the doctors run down the hall with Syd in tow, I realize that one of the nurses is a girl I went to college with. Her name's Chrissy Hall, but she goes by Reamy Hall now. No, I don't know why she changed it. We were both acting students at The Theatre School at DePaul University, and I seriously cannot believe that she's showing up on the show that I recap. How bizarre is that? Do you think J.J. somehow knew that I knew her and that's why he cast her? As a shout-out to me? He totally did. Hi, Reamy! Say hi to your hubby for me! My mom still talks about how hot he was in that play we did together! Oh, maybe you don't want to know that. Ahem.
As the doctors wheel Vaughn into an operating room, Syd starts freaking out once again and crying. Nurse Reamy wisely won't let Syd follow Vaughn into the operating room. As Nurse Reamy kind of looks over Syd's shoulder, she tells her that her designated cover is that she's with the State Department Bureau of Arms Control and that her name is Rita Stevens. "Give no details about his illness," she spews before running off. See? Why wasn't Nurse Reamy taking Vaughn's blood and handing it over to Syd? She knows who Vaughn is! I don't know why this bothers me so much, but it really does. I mean, it's not like the show is a prime example of reality or anything. But, like, IT'S BUGGING ME.
After Nurse Reamy leaves (bye, Reamy!), Syd turns and is suddenly confronted by a woman who resembles a more sedate version of the Meg Ryan character in Addicted to Love. She's all weepy and worried and we really don't care because this is "Alice," Vaughn's previously assumed fictional girlfriend. I don't care what anyone else says; this girl looks about ten years OLDER than Vaughn, and I find it hard to believe that First Mate Forehead would wind up with anyone as namby-pamby as this moany little Girl Scout with the frosted pixie haircut.
At the announcement from Alice that she's Vaughn's girlfriend, the expression on Syd's face is priceless. She goes from shock to surprise to bewilderment to composure in about two seconds flat. As Alice sobs off down the hall, Syd turns to her inner contemplation coping device and turns it up a few notches to eleven. I'm sure she'd feel much worse if she weren't under such heavy sedation.
Uncle Arvin's Office Of Optional Sanity And Dead Wives Who Just Won't Remain Dead. Okay, so, as I promised the extremely dedicated posters, I'm going to attempt to use all of the suggested nicknames for Captain Cuckoo because, in all honestly, all of these Sloanemclatures (tm Wagster) cracked my shit up so heavily that I often was in danger of wetting my pants. Enjoy it while you can, people. Once Arvin The Aardvark gets his mental mojo back, which we all know he will, the fun with whacko nicknames will most likely end. I mean, that is, until one comes along that's just so damn funny and makes me laugh so hard that my neighbors start calling the local nuthouse because the silly bitch on the third floor has definitely lost every last one of her marbles and needs to be committed immediately.
Right. So. Uncle Arvin's Office Of Optional Sanity And Dead Wives Who Just Won't Remain Dead. Jack enters and spews out some stupid shit about Triad and the Armenian border, and it's really just his quick-thinking cover for Syd and her antidote-grabbing butt. Lieutenant Lacking Pants just looks over at Jack like he could really give two shits about wherever the hell Sydney is, and proceeds to mention the whole empty Auntie Em grave situation.
"I went ahead with the exhumation," says Sergeant Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut. "I opened Emily's grave. It was empty." Jack's all, dude, did you check with the funeral home? Did you get a forensics unit to the gravesite? Agent All I Wanna Do Is Have Some Fun is all, dude! I saw her, okay? She's alive. And she knows what I did. I am dead to her, do you hear me? Dead! Jack's all, better clue the Alliance in, dude. Sergeant I'm With Stupid is all, done, dude. I just got off the phone with Christophe and told him that someone was trying to make it look like I faked Em's death in order to secure my position.
Jack's all, nice move, buddy. Maybe you're not so crazy after all. Monsieur Maladjusted is all, yeah, well, don't make that assumption too fast, my friend. We're still in deep shit. Even if the Alliance believes that I actually offed my wife instead of just pretend-offed her, the timing might make it seem like I was just trying to excuse SD-6's craptastic performance. Jack's all, uh, whuh? Mack Daddy Moosejaw is all, dude? Since I was made a partner in the Alliance, SD-6 has consistently stumbled in its operations. "We lost the terahertz imaging camera. We failed to retrieve the formula for zero-point energy. We didn't acquire Derevko's operations manual." Jack's all, uh, so what's your point? Private Padded Room's all, my point is that your daughter's a fucking double agent working AGAINST me and that's why we've been blowing chunks success-wise for AGES now! Wake up and smell the nepotism, Jack-o!
Yeah, so he doesn't say that. He just yammers on about how he needs a major victory in order to prove himself to the Alliance. But, really, does anyone really give a shit about this? I mean, anyone OTHER than Officer Off The Deep End? Jack's all, well, we have this guy downstairs who's familiar with Irina's operation. Perhaps, ya know, we could squeeze him a little and see if he pops? Lieutenant Look Who's Talking Too is so into this idea that he's practically licking the drool off his lips with his forked tongue.
Torture Room Of Tense Blue Tones And Psycho SD-6 Leaders Who Haven't Lost Their Evil Touch. Sloane and his Henchman of Hurt pay a little visit to Klaus Richter, the guy Sark infected with the virus just for kicks and who now lies on a slab in the bowels of SD-6, sweating and bleeding and generally looking fairly unhealthy. As Señor Sadistic gives Richter his own personal dissertation on the effects of the virus, the Henchman of Hurt fires up a little handheld culinary torch that Jacques Pepin uses to make crème brûlée and goes to work on Richter's right leg. Since he's paralyzed, he can't move, but he sure as hell can feel pain. Detective Devil In The Blue Dress just wants to know where Mama Hari's base of operations is located. Richter just says "Smilla" and cries a whole lot.
Will's hanging out by some fence near a drainage ditch. Brit Girl, Will's sparky friend from The Daily Newspaper Of No Importance Whatsoever, pulls up and starts yammering on at Will about the tests he asked her to look into. She's all, okay, so I did the work you asked me to, but, like, please don't tell me you're chasing some alleged CIA conspiracy again. Will's all, no no no, not even close. Keep your pants on. No, I mean REALLY. Keep your pants on! I got into enough trouble with Jailbait Jenny!
Brit Girl goes on to tell Will that the questions on the list Will gave her weren't on the test in 1982. Will's all, are you sure? Brit Girl's all, uh, yeah, this ridiculously difficult spatial relationship question? The ones about why rainbows occur and why you have to be standing behind the sun to see them? Along with all of the television viewers, Will's all, whuh? Brit Girl's all, not on there, dude. Sorry. What's this all about anyway? Oh, and for the record, Brit Girl's hair and makeup are much better now than they were seven or eight eps ago, so she's probably had a makeover between then and now. At least this time she's not holding some article of food, thereby making the correlation that she EATS and therefore is FAT and UNATTRACTIVE TO WILL.
Plane Of Father-Daughter Missions And James Bond-Inspired Gadgetry. Spy Daddy's handing over a rather gargantuan pair of boots that he explains are propulsion boots. "You can do five knots with them," he continues. "We're dropping you a hundred yards offshore. You should be at the pier in under two minutes." Okay, while I'm still contemplating the fact that something like "propulsion boots" actually exist, Spy Daddy whips out a Heckler & Koch P-11 underwater pistol that holds five rounds of tranquilizer darts. You know, because Syd doesn't KILL people; other people KILL people.
I'm serious here. I really want to know what kind of quality drugs the writers have stashed behind their laptops. Because, like, I can only come up with fantastical items like "propulsion boots" when I'm flying high on a combo of PCP, ether, and Vicks VapoRub. I just picture the writers sitting around this big conference room with all their laptops, the smell of stale deodorant and rotting pizza permeating the air, trying to come up with little gadgets that are cool enough to make us all go, "Oooooh...wish I had THAT!" and yet just normal enough to make an idiot like me go to Google and look them up. And no, propulsion boots do NOT exist. And yes, I have the twenty-five minutes lost to Google searches to prove it.
Paldinski, Estonia. Home Of Blood Sausage, Liquors Of Unknown Origins, And Nuns Of An Untouchable Quality. We open up on a little rubberized version of Syd -- oops! I mean, Syd herself, of course, wearing the handy propulsion boots as she zooms through Estonian enemy waters. By the way, Estonia? Not so much "enemy" as "close to Finland and Latvia." You're more likely to run into winding cobblestone streets and brightly painted houses than scary Russian intelligence agents with big guns. But, you know, whatever.
Syd makes her way to some sort of storage facility, gets out of the water, and quickly drops two guards with the tranq gun. She rips off one of their security cards and runs off. Seconds later, sporting a Devo-inspired yellow plastic jumpsuit, Syd enters the main storage facility and grabs a cart with a drum of danger on it, pretending like she's just one of the many yellow-suited peons. She passes by a research area and sees my ex-boyfriend Sark hanging out inside, talking to some other dudes. That probably isn't good, right?
Syd voices to Kendall at Ops that she's just run into her possible half-brother. Kendall's all, I don't need to remind you to stay out of sight. Syd's all, uh, DUH, dude. I don't need to remind YOU that you sit around a fucking office all day in your Brooks Brothers suits and order people around while I speed all over the planet putting MY ASS ON THE LINE FOR THIS COUNTRY? Kendall's all, yeah yeah yeah. Just get the serum and get out of there, Wonder Woman.
Syd makes it to the main serum generation room as we hear Spy Daddy tell her that in order to use the serum generator, she'll need the security pass code. We flash back to the plane, where Spy Daddy hands Syd a small computer that's about the size of a cell phone and informs her that the jack in this wittle bitty 'puter has a satellite link that will let the CIA get into the system and give them the pass code.
Back in the generator room, Syd starts tapping away on the product-placed Nokia PDA, gets the pass code from Chapman, and starts to enter it, only to be halted by Chapman. Basically, if she enters the pass code that they get from the main system, she'll set off alarms all over the place. Kendall's all, abort the op, baby. Syd's like, yeah, that'll happen. Kendall's all, dude? ABORT. Syd ignores him and starts the serum generation process. She puts a drop of Vaughn's blood on a strip at the front of the generator, flips a switch, and the machine begins to hum.
At the same time, over in Sark's room, one of his lackeys informs him that someone's accessed the decontamination room. That's all Sark needs to sound the alarm. Inside the decontamination room, Syd hears the alarms, grabs the now completed antidote, and gets the hell outta there. Several guards start shooting at her as she exits. She ducks and rolls out of the way and then grabs a fire extinguisher off the wall and does a little extinguishing of her own with the unfortunate guards. With one of their guns in hand, she makes her way to the exit.
Once she's through the outer door, she tries to open the inner door, but has no luck. She tries to go back out the way she came in, but that door is now closed as well. She's trapped. She looks up and sees Sark, blithely looking down at her from on high. He's all, hey there, Sydney sweetie. See those pipes above your head? Yeah, those. Well, they put out some pretty serious chemical shit that's excellent for decontaminating metals and concrete but not so good on organic materials. You know, like your suit? OR YOUR SKIN?
Syd's not impressed by his British snarkiness. She quietly cocks her gun and tries to shoot the shit out of the glass. As the bullets wing and whiz off the glass, Sark just calmly closes his eyes and waits for Syd to put two and two together. When she figures out that shooting doesn't really work here, Sark sort of looks down at her, mildly annoyed. His expression is great. Sort of, "Yeah, do you think we hadn't THOUGHT of that? God. And everyone keeps telling me how fucking BRILLIANT you are. What-EVER."
"You and I," he says, "we're destined to work together. I truly believe that." Sark hits a button on a device in his hand, and corrosive material rains down from the pipes and starts eating away at Syd's suit. "Of course, any future collaboration requires my turning the sprinkler system off. Notice your suit is already being eaten away. I'd give it another forty seconds. I could use your help. I need access to Arvin Sloane." As Syd's suit starts melting, she says, "Why?" Good question. Sark's all, because I intend to kill the bastard, okay? Syd's all, okay, cool, fine, I'll give you Captain Crunchberries if you let me keep the antidote. Sark's all, nuh-uh. Sloane first. Antidote later. Syd silently nods her acceptance.
Then we hear Syd voice-over, "Sark had me taken to the decontamination room. He let me go. I came back here to Los Angeles." But seriously? We're not really paying attention to anything she says because, as her voice-over continues, we're watching Naked Syd undergo a Silkwood shower. The camera moves up, promising a glimpse of Naked Syd's Honey Pot, but one of the idiots who's scrubbing her down with big metal brushes crosses in front of her just as the camera reaches what would be her hootchie-cootchie. Goddamn Big Metal Brush Guy! I mean, personally, I'm not really interested in looking at Syd's Hello Kitty, but I'm pretty damn sure that every male Alias fan out there paused this baby about NINE THOUSAND TIMES and kept yelling at Goddamn Big Metal Brush Guy to GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY! Goddamn Big Metal Brush Guy moves away just as the camera reaches Syd's bellybutton, and yes, if you pause the tape, it's pretty obvious that she ain't wearing a nude-colored thong, people. And she's in great shape. And the camera moves up, and we see Syd's chest, her hands clasped over her breasts. Yes, I said "breasts." Calm down.
Back At The Ops Center Of Orientations With The Bleeding Obvious, the freshly scrubbed Syd's filling Kendall in on Sark's Sloane deal. Kendall's all, what exactly did you promise that little blond pisher? Syd's all, that I would render Sloane unconscious and deliver him to Sark. Kendall's all, so he could send Sloane to the Great Beyond to join the ghosts of all the people he killed OTHER than his wife? Syd's all, pretty much, dude. "There are just so many problems with this that I don't even know where to begin," muses Kendall. Hee. Terry O'Quinn's delivery here is killer. I laughed out loud. Because he's all dry and mellow, and yet, on the inside, he's probably all, oh, right, let's just hand over the acting head of one of our biggest enemies to the acting head of one of our other biggest enemies. That's a GREAT idea!
Syd's all, okay, look, this is ALL about Vaughn as far as I'm concerned. Kendall's all, oh, FUCK Vaughn! American intelligence is NOT in the business of committing murder! Syd's all, oh REALLY? Ever heard of a little something called "military coups"? Or, like, how about VIETNAM?! Yeah, American intelligence (which, by the way, is a HUGE oxymoron) is TOTALLY peaceful and innocent. NSA, anyone?
Kendall and Syd start spitting at each other with simultaneous annoyance and rage. Kendall's all, YOU DON'T COLLABORATE WITH THE ENEMY. Syd's all, WELL, WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU HAVE DONE? Kendall and Syd are about thisclose to actually poking each other in the chests with their index fingers when Spy Daddy steps up and calmly asks Kendall to give him and Syd a minute. Syd shoots her father a look that would make Princess Leia proud and snaps, "Don't try and convince me not to work with Sark!" "That's not what I'm doing," he says quietly. "I'm on your side here. We can't lose Vaughn."
Huh? What? Why? Why is Spy Daddy suddenly all about not losing Vaughn? I have NO idea. He's certainly made it clear in the past that Vaughn's nothing special to him. But, maybe his little breakthrough in regard to The Madagascar Fiasco (or should I say "Fiascah" so it rhymes and makes me giggle) has made him realize that his little girl's happiness is all that matters, and if Vaughn bites the dust, Syd will be one unhappy international double agent. So, in an effort to avoid Kendall's bureaucratic ways, Jack suggests going through SD-6 and finding out Sloane's itinerary for his Tokyo Alliance meeting to get at Private Poopy-Pants that way.
Inspector Dingus's Rabbit Hole Of Dinky Devices And Twitchy Telecommunications. Dingus is messing around with what appears to be a polar bear rug. Why? This is Dingus, people. I wouldn't be surprised if, one day, we came upon Marshall performing an alien autopsy. You know, just because he felt like it, and, like, he just happened to have an extra dead alien lying around. Jack enters and says something about how his STU isn't recognizing his crypto-ignition key. Yeah, I think the writers had resorted to snorting chocolate milk by the time they got to this scene and they just started making shit up.
Marshall barely acknowledges that Jack's made a request and starts blabbling on about how polar bears can't be detected by infrared photography because their fur emits no heat. Jack just stares at Marshall like he's grown ears and a snout and started hee-hawing. Marshall gets the clue and leaves to handle Jack's crypto-ignition key problem. Without blinking an eye, Jack makes his way over to Marshall's computer and starts typing. No, I really don't know why Jack has to get Sloane's itinerary from Marshall's computer. It really doesn't make sense, but you know, it's very hard to make sense of things when you're HIGH ON RUBBER CEMENT.
Foolio's Fantasyland Of Fine Foods. We get an exterior shot of a busy street, and there's a sign hanging over one of the storefronts that says, "Lunch." Yes, that's what it says. Are we supposed to believe that the restaurant that previously housed a disco dance party is actually a quaint little lunch spot in downtown Hell-Lay? I thought it was a swank-o-riffic fine dining place. I mean, she's serving turkey burgers and paying college students to prowl the streets of downtown Los Angeles dressed as hamburgers in order to hand out flyers, but she had an opening night party with TECHNO MUSIC and COCKTAILS and now makes BOUILLABAISSE? Why? Whyeeeee?
Oh, god. WHATEVER. Will's hanging out at a table because, apparently, Foolio's restaurant is the new Ovary Electric Central and this is where Will spends ALL OF HIS TIME. Foolio walks up and asks Will what he's looking at. Will's all, oh, it's one of those standardized tests that kids take. "A friend from the newspaper is interested in me maybe tutoring his kid," he finishes. Nice thinking, Will. Your little run-in with the CIA has taught you how to lie, and you're not half bad at it, if I do say so myself.
Foolio reads over the test, noticing something about a reading comprehension essay that was based on the invasion of Grenada. Yeah, doesn't make sense to me either. But Will's all, yeah, you know it's weird -- the only test I could download was from 1982. Foolio says, "Well, back when I was listening to Duran Duran every single day, my uncle was one of the Marines that Reagan sent into Grenada. The invasion was in 1983."
Okay. If that isn't a shout-out then I don't know WHAT is. I mean, besides Foolio proving herself a hell of a lot more useful than a wayward Russian soup-maker, I was mainly flabbergasted by the fact that Duran Duran was included ANYWHERE in an episode. I mean, Duran Duran was practically a central theme in one of my recaps, dudes! Even if it's not a shout-out, I'm taking it as one, because that's how sad and desperate my life is right now.
No, Viggo. I'm not sad and desperate about YOU. Try not to turn everything into something about YOU, okay? You've been in New Zealand for the past FOREVER, okay? You couldn't find the nearest 7-Eleven with a topographic map, a bloodhound, and high-speed radar. Just do me a favor and go clean the bathroom. You're sexy and all that, but you wreak havoc in the loo, sweetie. You really do.
After Foolio provides Will with more information than she's EVER provided before, Will pays another visit to Brit Girl. Of course, they're both wearing the same clothes, so really, they probably just shot the scenes back-to-back and hoped we wouldn't notice. However, we're not really that stupid, are we? Anyway, Brit Girl, a.k.a. "Abby," is listening incredulously as Will babbles about why the Department of Education would give her a fake test. "How can I get a hold of a copy of the original test?" Abby's all, HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY MENTAL?
Honestly, I don't really understand the whole test thing. When you watch the show, it sort of makes sense, but then, when you see the transcription or watch the closed captioning, NOTHING is clear. Like, I totally don't get the whole 1982/1983 download thing. I really don't. And I really don't feel like trying to figure it out. Suffice it to say, Will has a fake test in hand and he's none too pleased about it.
Kommandant Krispy Kreme's Office. First Mate Flesh Gordon's all, dude, Jack, I chatted with Richter and he gave us a province in the Ukraine. Smilla. I sent a team there to search for Irina's digs, but no luck. Can I just say something here? While he's talking, Ron Rifkin's making his head blobble back and forth. Is he doing that on purpose? He looks like one of those little bouncy dolls that cabbies put on their dashboards. Is this supposed to indicate to us just how craaaaaazy Sloane's become? Because it's working. He looks like he's developed a scorching case of Parkinson's to go along with his hefty dose of dementia.
Jack wants to know when Sergeant Super Mario Sunshine is leaving for Tokyo. Lieutenant London Underground is all, I leave in an hour, Jack, and dude? If I don't show up with something hot and tasty and TANGIBLE, I'm pretty sure the Alliance is going to remove my kidneys with a spoon and serve them to the board members with a nice three-bean salad and a refreshing raspberry iced tea.
Torture Room Of Tense Blue Tones And Psycho SD-6 Leaders Who Haven't Lost Their Evil Touch. Jumping Jack Flash and Special Agent Short Bus are teaming up against Richter as the Henchman of Hurt puts more burn to Richter's leg. Jack's all, just give us an address, dude, and all this pain can end. Richter just keeps saying "Smilla" over and over again. Sloane tugs on his ear, and all his marbles come tumbling out his nose. He gets all up in Richter's virus-laden face and grits, "Just tell me where the hell Derevko's operation is! You give me an address now, you son of a bitch! Where in Smilla do we look?"
Okay. Have you seen From Hell? Because not only is Johnny Depp hotter than a jalapeño in it, but there's this scene where they finally show Jack the Ripper while he's in the middle of killing someone, and the actor has special contact lenses that make his eyes look like big black pools of darkness and his mouth is painted a sort of bloody red and he looks completely mental, and, well, that's what Ron Rifkin's doing here. Only, like, without the special contact lenses. Or the bloody red mouth. But with the "mental" still glaringly present and accounted for.
Anyway, Richter may be suffering from all kinds of disease at the moment, but he sure as hell ain't no dummy. He announces that "Smilla" is actually his wife's name and that he loves her so very much. He starts laughing and sobbing at the same time. Sloane grimaces at Richter, pulls back, and growls, "Just kill him."
Random University Of Test-Designing Professors. Will pays a visit to the professor who designed the test that none of us understand. The prof is all, 1982, right? Popular test. Will's all, whoa! Hold the phone! Did you say "popular"? Why "popular"? Professor Test is all, well, I got a call once from someone at ETS and they wanted my originals of the test. The Strings Of Impending Danger And Destruction are working overtime in this episode, lemme tell you. It goes a little something like this:
Will: Can you remember if you put any questions in about spatial reasoning? [Dun dun DUNNNN]
Professor Test: Why would I do that? [Thrumm! Thrumm!] There's no statistical utility in asking questions maybe one in ten thousand first graders could answer. [Buzzzzz...thrummm...ping...]
Will: Well, how would you explain a question like this, then? "How can rainbows be seen? Only when the sun is behind the observer." [Whooosh! Thrumm! Thrummmmm!]
Professor Test: This wasn't in the test I sent to ETS. I design the questions, I proof the test booklets they print up, and then, when they send the final corrected copies, I put them on file. [Plink! Plink ping! Thrummmmm!]
Will: About how many first graders took this test? [Drip. Drip drip. Ping. Plink. Shhhhhhh.]
Professor Test: They administered this test in thirty-three states. That's over five million children. [BONG! BUM! DUN DUN DUNNNNNN! THRUMMM! PING! PINGGGGGGGG!]
I wish I were kidding. It's a two-minute scene, but the Strings are clocking in at ten hours, thirty-two minutes.
Subbasement Of Dreams And Desires. Spy Daddy's taking Vaughn's place (ew! Not like that! Shut UP!) as Syd's handler, and he's giving her the lowdown on the Tokyo op. Officer Oops I Did It Again is staying at some inn in central Tokyo, and Syd's supposed to contact Sark as soon as she's in position. "Tell him we will hand him Sloane the night before his Alliance meeting," finishes Spy Daddy. Syd's all, then you're with me on this, right? We have no choice in the matter? Spy Daddy's all, well of COURSE we have a choice, honey. "It's a moment I never wanted you to face," he says. "To kill someone. I'm not talking about self-defense. I'm talking about premeditated murder. To be there when the door closes on him for the last time. Knowing you are responsible. That is something you never came close to considering before getting to know your mother."
What? Huh? What does killing Sloane have to do with Irina? Killing Sloane has to do with Syd getting the antidote for Vaughn. I mean, maybe indirectly this whole process can be brought back around to Mama Hari, but, like, so what? When Jack was training his daughter to put together a gun in thirty seconds flat, was he thinking THAT little skill wouldn't come in handy later in life when she had to, oh, I don't know, KILL SOMEONE? And, by the way, unless Syd's planning on slicing Sloane's throat with a shoe razor, she AIN'T the one who's closing the door on him for the last time. Sark is. All she's doing is knocking Sloane out and delivering him to Sark. Big difference. I mean, there's being responsible for someone's death and BEING RESPONSIBLE FOR SOMEONE'S DEATH. You can pay someone to pull the trigger, but it sure as hell ain't NOTHING like pulling the trigger yourself, ya know?
And thus endeth the lesson. Talk amongst yourselves.
Tokyo. City Of Sony Products, Miniature Cell Phones, And Ten-Foot-High Platform Shoes That Actually Can Kill. Syd's wandering around what is probably the Japanese garden section of the Los Angeles Botanical Gardens. She's dressed as a geisha, and really, it's the first time that a disguise hasn't worked for Syd. White face make-up is truly NOT working for her. They probably shouldn't have her dress up as a clown in future episodes. Syd-san tells Sark that she's on the grounds. Sark, parked in a car somewhere on the grounds, tells her that he's sent one of his associates over to the U.S. Naval Medical Center to meet up with Spy Daddy.
At the same time, Jack's milling around outside the U.S. Naval Medical Center as a car drives up. The window rolls down, and Sark's buddy tells Jack that he has the antidote with him, but it's being held in a very secure briefcase, which is security coded with a secondary system wired to a remote detonator. Jack's all, no shit, Sherlock. The associate's all, only Sark has the code, my friend, and until I receive word from him to release the serum, this case here remains closed.
Back in Tokyo, Sloane enters a serene and beautiful massage parlor that we can only assume does NOT offer "happy endings." We're forced once again to look at the hairy torso of Ron Rifkin. Why? Whyeeeee? Have we been bad in a life? Is this the seventh ring of hell? Ron Rifkin's not a bad man but, like, KEEP HIS CLOTHES ON, OKAY? Some of us hate vomiting, but we're NOT afraid to do it.
Syd-san shuffles up to Ron's House Of Geisha and has a little conversation with Sark. He wishes her luck. "I don't need you to wish me luck, you son of a bitch," she hisses. "That's a wonderful attitude," Sark smirks. Syd-san walks up to the building where Sloane's receiving his geisha massage. Before she can enter, however, she comes into contact with a Japanese guard who asks her a question in Japanese. Now, my friend Wedge's girlfriend is actually from Japan, and I toyed with the idea of playing the tape for her so she could interpret, but, like, I decided that was FAR too much effort for dialogue that's only present to fill the few seconds before Syd's supposed to kick some Japanese ass. So, as I expected, the guard asks one too many questions in Japanese, and Syd-san elbows him in the face and knocks him down. Another guard joins in on the fun, and Syd-san performs a little geisha-flavored jujitsu on his ass, managing to do a back flip without losing her wig OR her kimono, and knocks his ass down as well.
While Syd-san's kicking ass, we're forced to suffer through a far-too-lingering shot of Naked Sloane as a geisha massages his calf. For someone being waited on hand and foot by a submissive geisha, Captain Crabapple seems awfully depressed. Syd-san approaches Ron's House Of Geisha via a lovely little bridge, then enters and says something in Japanese to the other geisha. The other geisha leaves, and Syd greets Brigadier Bare-Ass. He quickly turns his head and allows Syd-san to work his sore muscles.
"Oh...God, I'm tense," groans Agent Au Naturel. "Not a big surprise. I saw a man die yesterday." Sergeant Starkers turns over and asks if Syd-san understands. She acts rike she no speako no Engrish, and he returns to relaxing and spilling his guts about Richter. Syd-san pulls one of her hair ornaments out and tugs on it with her teeth, revealing that it's actually needles of some sort. Uncle Unrobed says something about how Richter's love for his wife was what sustained him and that he, Sloane, loved his wife too, but he had to take action. Well, that's about it for Syd-san. She stabs Sergeant Stripped in the back of the neck with the pin, and he passes out.
Syd-san runs outside and starts jabbering in Japanese about the semi-dead guy on her massage table. Sark's all, you're so good, do you know that? Marry me. Or at least let me sit to you on our family road trip to Wally World. He then orders someone to send in an ambulance. As Syd-san exits the outer spa doors, EMTs cart Sloane into the ambulance. She watches them load his inert body as Sark walks up and minces to Syd about how he wasn't patronizing her earlier when he wished her luck. Syd's all, release the serum to your man, ya bitch. Sark gets on the horn and instructs his guy to hand over the antidote. He gives the case code as 10-11-92. I don't know if that's important, but it seems like a date or something. Hmmmm...
Over at the U.S. Naval Medical Center, Sark's associate hands over the antidote, and Jack tells him that he'll have to stick around until it's tested. I don't think Sark's associate is too pleased about this, but, like, he just earned his SAG card, so he really should shut the hell up. Back in Tokyo, Sark enters the ambulance and smirks at Syd, "It was nice working with you." Syd-san just glares at him and then looks at Detective Do Not Disturb. As the ambulance doors are closed, Syd-san sort of looks like she wants to stop them and save Captain Crack-Up. But she doesn't. Buh-bye, Sloane.
Hell-Lay. As the beautiful "I Grieve" by Peter Gabriel plays, we watch Vaughn in his hospital bed, slowly waking up as if he's just had a really long nap instead of a deadly disease. Jack's sitting by the side of his bed, looking, actually, rather paternally at Vaughn. It would be creepy if it weren't kind of sweet. Vaughn asks, "What's happening?" Jack responds, "You've been asleep for forty hours." Vaughn asks, "Am I dying?" Jack, ever careful about his bedside manner, says, "Almost. Sydney got the antidote. The doctors say your blood levels are looking good." Vaughn rasps, "How'd she do it?" Jack grimaces, "She had Sloane killed."
SD-6 Offices Of Rogue Double Agents And The Other Agents Who Are Completely In The Dark. Syd enters in slo-mo and passes by Sloane's empty office. She sees people coming out of the conference room and walks over to see what's going on. As she enters, the slo-mo stops and boom! There's Sloane! Looking healthy, happy, and not a little bit dangerous. Syd's eyebrows nearly betray her inner "What the fuck?" Detective Dementia has this hooded expression in his eyes that totally makes me think he's on to Syd and that she is FUCKED. She looks over and there's Sark, looking for all the world like a nuclear-operated shit-eating grin machine. God, David Anders is sexy as hell.
Sloane's all, hey there, Syd. Mornin'! I believe you know Mr. Sark. Syd's all, uh, yeah, but I don't think we've ever been officially introduced. Detective Don't Look Now But I'm Onto You is all, Mr. Sark is now cooperating with us in our ongoing search for Derevko and the remains of her company. Syd's all, HE'S cooperating? Are you HIGH? Brigadier Boo! is all, debrief Sark, sweetie. Make like a secretary and take some dictation. I'm gonna go hang out with the rest of the undead over by the espresso machine.
Sergeant Sucks To Be You leaves and Sark's all, Agent Bristow, working with you -- Syd's all, dude, SHHHH! Sark's all, don't worry, sweetheart, I pulsed the bugs. We're cool. Let's reminisce! Syd's all, uh, what in the HELL are you doing here? Sark's all, baby, I just took him off to a remote location and revived him, that's all.
We return to Tokyo for a flashback as Sark tells Sloane, "Here's the situation. Rambaldi's true aim is a puzzle. I have certain pieces, you have others. We'll never solve his mystery, but together...together, we cannot fail." Major Malfunction is all, uh, yeah, like, how do I know you're for real or that you have anything real to offer? Sark's all, well, first, you're alive, dude. I intercepted communications indicating that there would be an assassination attempt on your life. See? I done good. First Mate Feliz Navidad is all, oh, like that proves anything. You could have PLANNED the assassination attempt. "Which brings me to my second piece of information," snits Sark, handing Sloane a folded piece of paper. Secret Agent So What's All This Then reads it and glances over at Sark as if the paper had a naked drawing of Auntie Em on it and the artist's signature was "Sark."
Back in Hell-Lay, Syd's all, so what's on the paper, dude? Sark's all, well, that's for me to know and you to find out. Oh, and while we're at it, neener-neener-neener. Syd gives him a global thermonuclear wedgie and then yells, "Mom! Sarkie's being a stinker!"
Mama Hari's Den Of Demise. Vaughn arrives in a wheelchair and achingly heaves himself out of it so he can walk the last few feet. He slowly approaches the glass, and then he and Mama Hari contemplate each other for a moment before he says, "You asked me some questions. I told you I'd answer them if you helped me. You did help me and I thank you for that." Mama Hari's all, yeah? Well, thanks for your thanks, but I didn't do it for you, buster. Vaughn's all, I'm trying to live a normal life, ya know? Then he blabbles on about how living a normal life has gotten much harder since knowing Syd. Basically, all he's saying is that loving Syd is a real pain in the ass, and he's just not really equipped to handle conflict or secrecy or, you know, GENERAL RELATIONSHIP ISSUES.
He starts to weasel out of the cell area, but Spy Mommy's onto him. She says, "The problem, Mr. Vaughn, is that to the one person who matters, you haven't said anything." Captain Non-Courageous is all, hey! It's not my choice! We have rules about handlers and agents not doing the nasty! "Very clear and important rules that govern the relationship between a handler and his asset." Mama Hari smirks. "And between a man and a woman?" Vaughn and his sparkly green eyes don't really have an answer for that one, now do they?
After his meeting with the to-the-point Mama Hari, Vaughn escapes to the main ops center. Syd's waiting for him. There's such a look of love and relief on both their faces that it's all I can do to keep myself from screaming, "KISS HER! KISS HIM! SOMEBODY KISS SOMEBODY!" Syd approaches Vaughn and just says, "Hi." Sheryl Crow's singing about how she shall believe as Vaughn just returns the greeting and they hug. Syd starts to cry, and their hug is so tight that I'm surprised Syd doesn't actually physically MELT into Vaughn's body.
Vaughn quietly thanks her, and Syd sort of realizes the inappropriateness of their hug and steps back. As they look at each other kind of uncomfortably, we hear the lyric, "Not everything is gonna be the way you think it oughta be." Ain't that the God's honest truth? They chat a little bit about the Sark/Sloane situation, and then Vaughn mentions that he heard Syd met Alice. Syd's all, yeah, she seemed nice. Vaughn's all, yeah, yeah, she is. We have a lot of history and we're trying to blah blah blah sorry I can't be with you Syd but I'm a chickenshit cakes. Syd's all, please, don't explain. Vaughn's all, no, but, like, if things were the other way around...Syd's all, dude? PLEASE DON'T EXPLAIN. Because, really, hearing it out loud isn't going to make me feel ANY better, my friend.
Syd says that she'll see him tomorrow and walks off, the heartbreak clearly evident on her face. Vaughn watches her as Kendall walks up and starts blabbling on about how Jack briefed him on whatever the hell. Vaughn totally ignores him and just gets the most adorable "I'm making a decision that could affect the rest of my life here so, like, could you excuse me, dude?" look on his face. "Excuse me," he says to Kendall, and walks after Sydney. He starts smiling with the excitement that he's making a huge gesture here and he couldn't be happier. He's right on Syd's trail as he comes around the corner. But she's disappeared. Instead of sobbing out loud like I would have, or, ya know, CONTINUING ON OUT OF THE DAMN BUILDING IN PURSUIT BECAUSE HOW FAR COULD SHE HAVE GONE, Vaughn just stands there, a slightly sad smile twisting his lips.
Well, it would appear that all of Sheryl Crow's warblings didn't do a DAMN BIT OF GOOD.
Vaughn. What a lovesick TOOL.
time on Alias: Spy Mommy, Spy Daddy, and Spy Barbie have to come together as a spy family and go undercover in order to nab a couple nuclear warheads from somewhere. In other news, Warden Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory is contacted by someone who tells him that Auntie Em's still alive. Yeah. TELL US SOMETHING WE DON'T KNOW.