Previously on Alias: Sloane wore a really bad rubber mask and skullcap.
A relatively long SWAT-fueled lead-in wherein we watch a bunch of "Swiss" dudes in uniform train their guns on the entrance to the "Swiss" bank that houses "Sloane" and "Elektra." Yeah. If these cops are "Swiss," than I'm actually Wendy O. Williams. And if they're in Switzerland, this recap is coming to you directly from Antarctica. Brrrrr.
Septuagenarian Soupy Sales and his daughter Syd exit the bank, and Soupy holds up some device. Just in case we don't know what in the hell he's doing or what in the hell is in his hand, we quickly check in with Vaughn, who's informing one of the "Swiss" police dudes that Soupy and Syd are to be left alone and allowed to leave or the whole place is gonna be blown sky-high.
We're also reminded that, just in case anyone gets an itchy Auslöser finger, the entire area's under ever-watchful eye of our own little Sarkie, so if Soupy bites it, Sarkie hits the big red button and buh-bye four-block radius. Vaughn and his very own "Swiss" dude keep trying to defuse the C-4 in the basement of the building as Soupy and Syd make for the product-placed Ford Fuckus. Soupy tries to take her arm and she's all, FUCK OFF, and pulls away. I really don't know why that tickled me, but it totally did. Like when you're having a fight with your boyfriend and he's trying to be all cute and gentlemanly and you're all, yeah, SAVE IT, FUCKDUD. Try to take my arm again and you'll be PULLING BACK A STUMP.
Back with Vaughn in The Basement Bathed In Golden Light, some other "Swiss" police dude is blabbling at him about the bomb. I can't really concentrate at the moment because the indirect lighting is doing wonders for Vaughn's cheekbones and his hair has this spiky rock-and-roll quality that, quite frankly, is distracting to the nth degree. Vaughn's all, there has to be some way to block the detonator. "Swiss" dude's all, not unless you have some surefire way to encase the thing in concrete, buddy. Ding! That's the sound of a light bulb actually going on above Vaughn's head. He walkie-talkies to someone to get him the bank manager. Now! Yeah. Vaughn's doing wonders for my sex drive right about now...
Ford Fuckus of Freaky Father Figures. Our very own Swiss Miss is driving the Fuckus down a mountain road as Baron von Blinkyness in the backseat rips off his carefully constructed disguise as if he were the fourth member of Charlie's Angels. He's all, dude, Sydney, I told you not to come after me! Guess I'll have to kill you now. Or at least divulge some of my secrets as if, any moment, I'm GOING to kill you. Oh, and could you do me a favor? Joni Mitchell called. She wants her circa-1972 hairstyle back.
Satan Sloane blithers on some more about his plans and how they're bigger than the CIA, bigger than SD-6, bigger than his betrayal of her and her betrayal of him -- heck, they're bigger than Elvis during the Vegas years! They're that big, people! I don't really know where Sloane's going with this, but we don't get a chance to find out, because we're back in The Basement Bathed In Golden Light and Vaughn's on the horn to Marshall, filling him in on some safe model or something.
Oops Center. Marshall frantically flips through some handy Book o' Safes and locates the model. Back and forth, blah blah blah, the safe will block the signal. Maybe. Kind of. We think. And then the CEO of Ford steps in and makes Vaughn tell Marshall that Syd's going to be in a Ford Fuckus, and Marshall pretends to care when he asks him what model it is, and Vaughn rolls his eyes into the back of his skull as he tells him, and could this BE any more product-placed, I wonder?
Vaughn hangs up on Marshall in mid-blabble and places the signal transmitter in the safe, closes the door, and voila! No more transmittal for Sarkie! Back with The Ford Fuckus of Freaky Father Figures, Vaughn tells Syd over her earpiece that the signal's shielded and the bomb can't detonate and not to tell Sloane about it because that would totally ruin the surprise. However, since Sarkie's actually doing his job, he sees that the signal's cut off and informs Sloane of this on his very own little earpiece. On to Plan B.
Syd, thinking she has the upper hand here, makes some not-so-thinly-veiled threats to Sloane about pumping him full of lead and not even needing a reason. For some reason, I totally think of that scene from Caddyshack where Bill Murray's all, "We can do that. We don't even need a reason." Hee. Bill Murray's funny. Hee hee. Yeah, it has nothing to do with this scene, but it's almost over anyway so who really gives a shit?
Sloane, knowing that he actually has the upper hand here, just flings open the door, prompting Syd to shout, "You jump you die!" Well, OBVIOUSLY, Syd. You're only going, like, top speed in that car. Which, considering that it's a Ford Fuckus, is probably about thirty-five miles per hour. Anyway, some black van screeches up, bangs the door off the Fuckus, and Sloane jumps into the van while some random bad guy keeps a gun trained on Syd. Why he doesn't just immediately shoot her is beyond me. I ask myself the same question when Sarkie leans out the door and fires off a scattered shot that hits, like, Syd's hood or something. Is it a RULE that no one can kill Syd? Or even TRY?
The piece of shit Fuckus spins out of control and Syd winds up at the side of the road, pissed beyond belief. She slams her hands on the steering wheel and, once again, I'm transported out of this episode and into Ferris Bueller's Day Off. "He'll keep calling me. He'll keep calling me 'til I come over. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. I'll go. AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!" Hee.
Dude? Three words: Get. Over. It. Twenty years ago, dude. TWENTY YEARS. Move on. Now.
See? Five minutes in and I'm already not into this episode.
Oops Center. Kendall tells a leather-clad Syd and a t-shirt-sporting Vaughn that they have no idea what it was that Sloane stole from the bank, but his trail's gone cold so why don't they all just go out for pizza or something? Syd's all, what, so that's IT? We lost Sloane and that's ALL you can say? Kendall's all, uh, yeah, about that losing Sloane thing -- wasn't he, like, in YOUR custody for a bit? Syd's all, whuh? Who? How? Kendall's all, yeah, maybe you should think about how you had that piece of shit in your hands and you CHOSE not to take him down before you go all girly on my ass, okay? Glass houses? Stones? Not a good combo, sister. Syd's all, don't you get officious and overbearing on me, you obnoxiously bald bastard. Vaughn's all, okay, honey? You're getting that sound in your voice that makes my skin crawl. Could we just keep our minds on the whole "Sloane's building a weapon" idea and leave the bitch session back in the bedroom where it belongs? Syd's all, mind your own business, pansy-ass. Kendall? Perhaps you should consider that Sloane beat us because he had, oh, I don't know, SATELLITE SURVEILLANCE? Hello? We're the fucking CIA and we couldn't even tax one bird for this little shindig in Switzerland? They shout and bicker and finally Kendall's all, we're doing everything we can possibly do. Syd's all, nuh-uh, dude. Not even close. Then there's one of those moments where nothing is said, but Kendall looks at Syd, Syd looks at Kendall, Vaughn looks at Syd, Vaughn looks at Kendall, Kendall looks at Vaughn, Syd looks at Kendall, Kendall stares at his navel. Seriously. It's like seven minutes long.
Satan Sloane's Silo of Secrecy. Sloane enters and gets all persnickety on my ex-boyfriend Sark. He's all, how's the weapon thing going? Sarkie's all, it's going, dude. Sloane's all, I'm going to talk about Christian Slater for a second here, so we all remember that he was in the last episode, but he had to attend a Mobsters reunion this weekend, so he couldn't actually BE here. Oh, and make sure that, once the weapon's assembled, you get Slater the hell away from it, okay? Sarkie's all, uh, DUH. Oh, and would you mind taking a step back, dude? I'm all for HoYay and everything but, dude? Your breath is atrocious. What, did you eat an entire can of anchovies or something? Yuck, man. Just yuck. Sarkie announces that he'll perform the preliminary test himself. Sloane's all, you do that. Sarkie's all, uh, what'd I just say? Sloane's all, yeah, well, just see that you DO. Sloane leaves, and Sark just looks after him with this expression of, I am SO going to kick your ass once I get back together with Spy Mommy, you ferret-y little monster. Oh, and David Anders? Yum-o-licious. His hair is so artfully tousled that it looks like he just woke up and rolled over and started doing lovely little things to my belly button with his tongue...
What? Oh, be quiet, Owen. I don't love Sark more than I love you. Well, for one thing, he didn't write The Royal Tenenbaums. For another, he doesn't look as good in a cowboy hat and boxer briefs, okay? Just calm down. It's not illegal to LOOK, honey. Only to touch. And remember that the time you have to do a sex scene. WITH ANYONE. EVER.
Ovary Electric. Syd and Vaughn enter, all twirly and kissy-face about some hockey game that they'd just attended. The hell? Several hours ago, Syd was practically shoving her boot up Kendall's ass, and now one hockey game just makes Sloane's escape disappear? Whatever. There's some chitter-chatter about the Zamboni, which just makes me giggle because, well, it's a funny fucking word and Jennifer Garner gets to say it twice while being kissed by Michael Vartan. Is she, like, the luckiest girl in the whole world? I think so, my friends. I think so.
Vaughn's phone rings, and he picks up. It's Agent Sean, and he tells Vaughn that Kendall wants to see him. Agent Sean's all, he wants to see Syd too. She with you? Vaughn's all, uh, no. No! Agent Sean says, "You're in bed with her right now, aren't you?" Hee! "I'm trying," hisses Vaughn. Hee hee! Syd correctly guesses that Kendall wants to see them, and Vaughn tells Agent Sean to find out what Kendall wants.
Suddenly, Vaughn hears his own voice coming through the phone, talking about the Zamboni. Hee. That's just bloody funny. Say it with me: Zamboni! Oh, and "Zamboni" is even funnier when you substitute it for the words to "Jam On It." Zamboni, Zamboni, Zambo nuh no no nuh noni. Anyway, Vaughn hears his voice and, even though Agent Sean bitches at him about paying attention, Vaughn continues to listen to his own voice and then Sydney's voice coming through the cellphone. He traces the playback to a light switch over by the kitchen and tells Agent Sean that they'll be at Oops Center ASAP. Agent Sean just hangs up the phone like the bitter wallflower we always knew he could be.
Minutes later, Syd removes the wall plate and discovers, you guessed it, a bug. Syd and Vaughn head over to Oops Center, understandably tweaked that their recent, ahem, activities, may have been recorded for someone else's enjoyment. Spy Daddy assures Syd that the CIA has sent over a cleaning crew to sweep the place for other recording devices. Syd's all, uh, how can my place be bugged, dude? What about the bug killer? Huh? What about that? And you're not going to be listening to the stuff they taped, right? RIGHT? Spy Daddy's all, oh, please. I'm still operating under the assumption that you haven't even gone to second base with a guy -- you think I'm going to subject myself to the boudoir bangings of my precious little girl? Think again. Jack's all, in the meantime, we need to know who you've spoken with, what was said, and what intelligence might have been compromised. D'oh! Syd kind of bites her lower lip as if to say, okay, by "spoken with," do you mean "slept with" also? Why am I asking? Just curious. No reason. Move along. Nothing to see here.
Jack instructs Syd to make a list of every delivery man, mailman, radon inspector, and handyman with whom Syd might have slept and then walks off with the bug, stating that he's going to take it to analysis. What, so now Jack's been demoted to GOPHER? The hell? Seconds later, Jack's with Marshall, finding out that it was Marshall himself who made the bug. He points out his signature -- a Superman logo with an "M" instead of an "S." Hee. Jack just glares at him. Hee hee. Marshall reads Jack's glare loud and clear and gets down to business, informing Jack that he used to make the bug just for Sloane back in the SD-6 days and that it's undetectable by bug killers. Jack wants to know if the signal is traceable, and if it is, can they find the source of the receiver? Marshall seems to think so. "Then do it," barks Spy Daddy. "A 'please' would be nice," Marshall meeks. Spy Daddy lingers just long enough to shoot Marshall one of his looks, and then he bolts. Hee.
Satan Sloane's Silo of Secrecy. Dr. Eeeevil's looking at a big piece of parchment paper or something that has this huge shape cut out of it. Mini-Sloane enters and tells his boss that the Rambaldi device is complete and that the weapon works; he tested it himself. Sloane says nothing. So, in order to fill the dead space with words, Sarkie says something about their partnership and how Sloane was going to show him great things. "But a suitcase neutron bomb designed in the sixteenth century..." he says incredulously. "Is that even the remotest possibility?" Sloane just looks at some pictures in his hand and says nothing. At this point, having seen the rest of the episode already, I'm thinking that the pictures are of Dead Slater or something. Like, you know he's dead, right? What? Sloane and Sark are the kind of guys who just let people LEAVE after they've abducted them and put them to work making an ancient neutron bomb? I don't THINK so.
Kandahar. You know. Kandahar? As in AFGHANISTAN? Yeah. That one. We're on the discarded set of Young Indiana Jones or something (Sean Patrick Flanery? Still hot. Even after Powder, okay? Still. Hot.), and a truck pulls up with a linen-suited dude in the back. He has a hood over his head. Some guys with guns pull him out and escort him into a building.
Once inside, some guy in a fancy fez has his goons remove the hood and it's Sloane under there, looking rather mussed. Then Fancy Fez and Sloane take a seat and engage in a bizarre hand-washing ritual as they discuss business. Sloane says something about their mutual friend Dreyfuss and, yeah, I totally thought of Richard Dreyfuss. Damn, my mind is wandering...anyway, for whatever reason, the mention of Dreyfuss pisses off Fancy Fez and he gets all uppity with Sloane, saying that he doesn't do business with Americans. Sloane's all, yeah, well, I'm not really into the whole "for love or country" thing right about now so let's talk trash, okay? Sloane's hair seems to bristle as he says something about looking for partners to engage in changing the world order. Or something. And blah.
Fancy Fez is all, I'm but a humble shepherd. What? Sloane's all, yeah, if by "humble" you mean "controls the largest, most lucrative opium trade along the Silk Road." Fancy Fez is all, right, so, why should I hook up with you? Sloane's all, that's a long story. But first, I brought you a present! Huh? The gift turns out to be some ancient fountain pen that belonged to Khushal Khan Khattak, the seventeenth-century poet who united Fancy Fez's lands. And before you can even ask, yes, I looked him up on Google. Seriously? I don't know what I'd do without Google. I Google everything. It's almost like a disease. But one that tends to come with annoying pop-up ads.
I guess the gift's pretty damn nice, because all of a sudden, Fancy Fez is very interested in Sloane's little world domination vision. We switch quickly to Hell-Lay at night, and we're treated to an extended shot of Syd doing a series of terrifying stomach crunches on her bedroom floor as Duncan Sheik warbles about being on a high. Oh, and Francinator's just standing in the doorway with a glass of wine, watching her. Ew! The sight of Jennifer Garner's awe-inspiring abdominal muscles is a scary enough, dude! Stop with the Stepford Spy! She's creepy! Syd doesn't really notice, though, and just asks Francinator what's up with Will. Francinator, sporting our favorite pigtails, doesn't really react or respond, and just takes a seat on the edge of Syd's bed. Syd's all, did ya screw him yet? Francinator smiles tightly and says, "Not yet." Damn. She sounds like Will's the LAST person she'd ever want to sleep with. Come on, Francinator! It's not going to be that bad! Will has a nice ass! Grab it! GRAB IT.
Er. Excuse me. Shut up, Owen.
Syd gets up off the floor and walks over to the corner. She pulls off her shorts, and I'm not really sure why we got a shot of that. I mean, other than to show Francinator openly ogling her kickin' bod so that all of the posters can go, "Ho? Yay? HOYAY!" Francinator, obviously playing the "on the offensive" card, accuses Syd of acting weird lately. Syd's all, I've been acting weird? You're a CLONE, dude. I think we can safely say that you've cornered the market on weird here. Francinator looks at Syd with a semblance of human feeling and whines that Syd never talks to her anymore. Syd, sitting thisclose to Francinator on the bed (Ho!Yay!), just apologizes and blames her weirdness on work. Francinator reaches out and does this kind of unnecessary "brush the hair away from Syd's face" gesture as she tells Syd not to forget that they used to be good friends. Can I get a Ho? How 'bout a Yay?
The phone rings, saving Syd from her first girl-on-girl makeout session. It's Vaughn, and he tersely tells Syd to get to Oops Center, like, now. Syd makes some lame client excuse to Francinator and jumps in the shower. Luckily, Francinator doesn't follow her in there and offer to loofah Syd's rock-hard ass. Instead, she walks out into the living room, dials her cell phone, and Sark answers. "They found the bugs," she says, "how shall I proceed?" Who IS this person? Seriously. "Shall"? Who the fuck says "shall" anymore? I mean, other than the Queen of bloody England? Sark's all, well, they'll probably be looking for our L.A. asset. "Give them one," he states in his lustrous Brit bad-boy tones. "I'll take care of it," sneers Francinator.
Later, at Oops Center, Syd tromps over to Vaughn and wants to know if Marshall was successful in his reverse engineering of the bug. Vaughn's all, well, hello to you too! And no, Marshall bombed on the bug. Untraceable. Syd makes this kind of "Oh, fucking GREAT! That's just fucking GREAT!" face that leads me to believe that she's not as concerned with locating Sloane as she is about not having Kendall find out that she does indeed bark like a dog whilst in the throes of passion.
Conference Room of Endless Expositions. Kendall informs the troops that a guy answering Sloane's description was recently seen in the company of men loyal to Fancy Fez who, as it turns out, is more than just a bad-hat fancier; he's played footsie with the Taliban. Yes, you heard me. Footsie. And I didn't come up with that word. Kendall did. All on his own. I'm so proud of him. Oh, yeah, and that Taliban thing sounds pretty bad, too. Nice bit of topicality, though, don't you think? John Eisendrath came up with that all on his own. I'm so proud of him.
What's Syd wearing, by the way? I thought striped turtlenecks went out with The Preppie Handbook. This monstrosity isn't really doing any wonders for Syd's rather mannish broad shoulders, either. And the pulled-back hair routine? As a self-professed member of the Big Foreheads Club, I'd assume that little Jenny would be a bit more careful about her hairstyle choices. They're called bangs, Jenny. Look into it.
Spy Daddy blah blahs something about how they think Fancy Fez is in some valley somewhere, but they don't really know where. And Sloane stole a bunch of missiles from him once. Vaughn's all, uh, so he stole some weapons from the dude, but now he's meeting with him? Am I missing something? Yes, Vaughn. You're missing my naked body pressed against yours. But that's not important right now.
Syd's all, Fancy Fez doesn't know who Sloane actually is, see. He sent some agent in, and he got in and out undetected. Vaughn's all, yeah? Who's this agent, then, when he's at home? Syd's all, that would be our favorite grumpy guy, Dixon. Conveniently, no paperwork or documentation was found in the takeover of SD-6 that described the missile mission. Know what that means, don't you? Yeah. Syd has to beg Dixon for help. One more time. Again. Some more. Syd's all, I don't think you appreciate Dixon's rather outrageous and overdone sense of betrayal. I'm all, I don't think you appreciate the true awfulness that is that striped turtleneck, sweetheart. Kendall's all, shut up, Barbie. And go eat some crow. Or are we forgetting how much we want to nab Satan Sloane and his trunk of Rambaldi tricks? Syd just smoothes her hair back from her gargantuan forehead and wonders if there will ever be a time when Dixon isn't going to be around to save her ass.
Dixon's House of Harassment. Mrs. Dix takes one look at Syd, standing on the porch, and flat-out tells her that neither she nor Dix wants anything to do with her or the CIA. Syd's all, I appreciate that, but I basically can't do anything right and usually in situations like this, Dix saves my ass so, like, I was wondering if he could help me out of a bind here? Dix shows up, and the whole "get the fuck away from us" theme is repeated. Syd pleads with Dix for Fancy Fez's location and says that if Dix helps her, it could mean the end of Sloane. Considering that Dix no longer gives a shit about Sloane, Syd, Spy Daddy, and the rest of the liars, I really think she's barking up the wrong tree. But maybe that's just me. Oops. No. Dix agrees with me. Request? Denied. Door? Slammed.
Subbasement Of Dreams And Desires. Hey! Maybe it's time for a little on-site nookie -- oh, nope. It's not Syd that Vaughn's smiling at. It's Will. Will! Is that you? I hardly recognized you! Where ya been, buddy? What's that? You told the writers that if they wrote one more heartfelt confessional scene between you and Syd you'd start showing up to the set with a fire hose hooked up to vat of moose urine and every time they made you say, "Syd, you know I'm here for you," you'd douse the entire writing staff in liquid moose by-product? I feel you, buddy. I feel you. Glad you're back, though!
Vaughn's asking Will if he has a suit. Will's all, uh, one, I think. From my best friend's bar mitzvah. Hope it still fits. Why? Vaughn's all, yeah, well, you're not an agent, right? But your briefs are kickin'. And, yes, when Vaughn said "briefs," I headed directly to the gutter and thought of Bradley Cooper in his underwear. Right. Like YOU didn't.
Anyway, Vaughn wants Will to make an oral (hee!) presentation to Kendall. "Waitwaitwait," sputters Will. "An oral -- like in person?" Hee. Hee hee. I missed Will. Vaughn's all, dude? You can handle this. Will's all, uh, I'm a writer, dude. I don't talk, I write. Hee. I love these guys. Vaughn's all, it's your job, dude. Step up to the plate, okay? Then he asks if Will knows Sammy's Red Hots. Will's familiar with their all-beef koshers, yes. Vaughn tells Will to be there in an hour and to order the special, no pickles. "I like pickles," smiles Will. Tee hee hee. I'm getting that same giggly feeling I got when I watched the early Syd and Vaughn scenes. "I like pickles." HEE.
Vaughn continues to tell Will about his pickup, and Will finally goes, I'm going to be talking to the director, right? That's, like, a big deal, yeah? Vaughn's all, yeah. I can't BELIEVE I gave this guy a job. Will's all, holy shit. Hee! God, Bradley Cooper's a cutie. And I'm not just saying that because I want him to marry me and fill me with his little babies. Oh. Did I say that out loud? Shhh, Owen. Go write another brilliant yet accessible screenplay or something.
Fancy Fez's Farm of Fine Furnishings. Sloane's admiring some piece of shit statue. It's a carving of an "arhat." Hee. That looks like "asshat," actually. That's much funnier than "arhat." According to Sloane's Buddhist-based definition, an "asshat" is the destroyer of one's enemies. It certainly is. Whatever. It's only important later, okay? Moving on. Sloane makes a really big deal about the statue and how important and fabulous it is. Fancy Fez is more interested in chatting about that whole "destroying the enemies" thing. Seems that if Sloane is offering up his abilities as an "asshat," Fancy Fez is going to need a little reassurance that he can deliver. Sloane's all, yeah, I know. So I'm going to perform a little demonstration for you. Any targets you might have in mind?
Oops Center. Vaughn enters with Will in tow. Vaughn's all, so, uh, where'd we go with the suit thing? You're still wearing that crappy corduroy jacket. "Well, it's been a while since I tried it on," says Will, mentally kicking Vaughn in the head, "or worked out, apparently. Which makes me overwhelmed and fat." Hee.
Vaughn introduces Will to a couple of stiffs from the Kennedy School. Will looks extremely uncomfortable. Vaughn leaves, and Will says, "The Kennedy School. Where is that?" One of the stiffs just looks down his nose at Will and sneers, "Haaaavaaaad." "That's right," says Will, looking after Vaughn wistfully. I can't tell if he's just fucking with the stiffs to make them think that the Kennedy School ain't all that, or if he really doesn't know about the Kennedy School. I mean, I didn't know what in the hell the Kennedy School was but, like, I'm not about to give a big-ass presentation to the director, now am I?
Conference Room of Endless Expositions. Stiff Number One blithers something about finding an enemy that will sell out Fancy Fez. Stiff Number Two suggests some turban-ed dude as that enemy. Will's all, nice try, Daphne. These dudes probably hate each other, sure, but they sure as hell hate the Americans more, you know? Again. Will? Cute as a button. Jack's all, okay, so you're not fond of the turban-ed dude being the enemy. Any other bright ideas, Sparky? Will's all, yeah, actually. How 'bout Fancy Fez's ex-wife? He puts on his glasses (swoon) and starts chittering on about Mrs. Fez and how she's now married to some dude with the Vatican Embassy in Mexico City. Then he mentions something about court records, and Vaughn's all, you found court records? Will's all, yeah, yeah. They're published on the 'net. Syd tries to hide her smile unsuccessfully. As Vaughn tries to hide his smile as well, Will says, "I realize that there's nothing geopolitically correct in my analysis, but in the 'hell hath no fury' department, I figure this woman would pay us to mess with her ex." Hee. Again. Some more.
Will takes a seat and snarks to the stiffs that he'll get them that web address. "You should check it out," he says helpfully. Syd just beams. The stiffs kind of check the floor for the small fortune they wasted on their high-profile Haaaavaaaad educations. Kendall starts shuffling papers and orders Vaughn and Syd to get the hell down to Mexico.
Unfortunately, at that very same moment, we discover that Fancy Fez has chosen Sloane's target. And, yes, it's his ex-wife. Syd and Vaughn better get a move on. Sloane's on the phone with Sark, and Sark's rather confused at the target choice. Sloane gets snippy with Sark and orders him down to Mexico City. Sark's all, why don't YOU haul your hairy gray ass down to Mexico City, huh? I'm not your fucking ERRAND BOY! Or he just hangs up the phone and stares at the picture of Mrs. Fez.
Mexico City. Town of Aztec art and kick-ass street vendor tacos. Seriously. Yum. We're hanging with Mr. Sark as he kicks it old school in a plain black van outside the Vatican Embassy. His phone rings and he answers it, informing his boss that surveillance confirms Mrs. Fez is in the administrative wing of the embassy. As he talks, he goes back and takes a look at the neutron bomb. It actually resembles a piece of really bad flea market art or something. Like a lamp from the sixties without a bulb. Or a shade. Sark blathers something about how he'll need twenty million watts to reach the admin section of the building. "Twenty percent of its capacity," smirks Sloane. That oughta do it, says Sarkie. But, like, dude? If Slater's calculations are off by even a microtesla, this whole thing could go really, REALLY bad. Sloane's all, shut up, you whiner. Do it. Sark's all, oh, look who's all gung-ho about neutron-bombing a fucking CHURCH. Easy for you to be all Captain Commando, dickweed -- you're eight thousand miles away! Sloane's all, click. Jesus. If I were Sark, I'd be pointing that neutron bomb over in Sloane's direction. He is SO unappreciative of Sark's hard work. And hard abs. And hard -- ahem. Excuse me.
Sark contemplates telling Sloane to go fuck himself, but decides to start the countdown on the bomb instead. He exits the van as Sydney approaches the steps of the church in a truly frightening old lady disguise. It looks like her face is melting. It's not pretty. Which, I guess, is the point. Syd tells Vaughn that she's inside and he tells her that Mrs. Fez is on the first floor.
Syd makes her way to Mrs. Fez, and we check in with the neutron bomb, which is resolutely counting down. Back with Syd, she finds Mrs. Fez and tells her that they need to talk. Before Mrs. Fez can call security, Syd tells her that she knows she's worried about retribution and that's why no one will ever know they even had this conversation. Blah blah blah, tell me where your ex is.
Meanwhile, Vaughn's just hanging out in his spy vehicle when Agent Sean beeps in. He's all a-twitter about weapons of mass destruction and Rambaldi and, uh-oh, the coordinates are the Vatican Embassy. Really? No WAY! Sean's all, GET OUT NOW. Back with Syd, Mrs. Fez ain't talkin'. Vaughn tells Syd about the coordinates/death situation and tells her to grab Mrs. Fez and get the hell out of there. Syd demands that Mrs. Fez come with her, and when Mrs. Fez says nuh-uh and starts to walk away, Syd pops her one and knocks her out. Hee. The makeup's awful, but it's damn funny to see an old lady perform a death chop like that.
In the church, the priest is telling the congregation that they must evacuate immediately. People start making their way to the doors as Vaughn carries the passed-out Mrs. Fez to his car and drops her in the back seat. Syd hops in, and they drive off. We check in with the bomb and the time's ticking down as the core's heating up. Suddenly, sparks and shit start to fly out of it, and then we're in the church as a woman starts to get up from the pew. She looks curiously at her sleeves, and -- poof! They go up in flames. Yeah. I know. Let's not talk too much about the topicality of this one, okay?
The priest goes up in flames too, and it's really hideous. Great stunts, very powerfully done scene, extremely disturbing and horrific, yadda yadda yadda. Ick. Back at Oops Center, Agent Sean's telling Vaughn that he's picked up a hot spot and it's directly behind him. Syd removes her Charlie's Angels Special Edition Old Lady Mask and asks Vaughn what's up. He tells her about the hot spot. Sean's all, dude! It's not a SPOT. It's a raging inferno! Can't you see it? Vaughn's all, nope. We got nothing back here.
Then, bing! It's gone. Sean fiddles at the keyboard, but the raging inferno has left the building. Vaughn's all, what do you MEAN it's left the building? Sean's all, gone, dude. Gone, gone, gone. Syd hears this and makes the brilliant decision to go back. Yeah, there's no reason for her to go back other than to confront her with the horror in the church.
And horror it is. Syd and Vaughn enter and wordlessly walk down the aisle (no, not like THAT), looking at the human ashes on the floor. Just then, a completely awake and alert Mrs. Fez enters and looks around. The hell? If someone knocked you out and shoved you into their backseat, would YOU follow them into the place they'd just abducted you from? I sort of didn't get this part at all. But, like, whatever. Mrs. Fez says that she'll tell them where her husband is, and we get a terrible overhead shot of the death and destruction on the church floor.
Back from the break, Sarkie and Sloaney are enjoying a nice spot of tea with Fancy Fez as he watches a news account of the church happenings. Sark tells him that his ex is on the list of presumed dead. Fancy Fez signals for one of his dudes to bring something over. He hands Sloane a piece of carpet or something, and inside is the "asshat" that Sloane was dishing over earlier. Sark looks wholeheartedly confused about this recent development. Sloane tries to refuse it, but Fancy Fez insists. Oh, and then he gives him forty million as an added bonus.
Conference Room of Endless Expositions. Kendall blah blahs about Sark being in Mexico City at the time of the disaster and how he headed immediately to Sloane's side which, thanks to Mrs. Fez, they now know the location of. Spy Daddy's all, yeah, so Syd's going to lead a tactical unit into the place, parachute in, get roof access, diffuse the bomb, steal it, and then signal for backup. Syd's all, oh, sure. Anything else? You want me to pick up your fucking dry cleaning while we're at it? Oh, no problem! I'm only SAVING THE WORLD! She's all, they're calling it a doomsday device, you know? And they're saying something about the devil himself rising up to attack the church. The what? The devil, you say? Why, he is pure eeeevil. Marshall pipes up that he'd like to offer a scientific explanation, if they don't mind. Actually, I do mind. Because I don't really care about how the damn thing works. But I love Marshall so much that I'll watch the scene. Especially the part where he starts to compliment Kendall on his suit and Terry O'Quinn just gives this hilarious face and goes, "Okay." Like, any more words and he would have lost it completely.
Basically, the people who died had an internal body temp of over two thousand degrees. "They literally melted from the inside out," says Marshall. Syd's all, yeah, but, uh, nothing else in the church was destroyed. Blah blah blah, the weapon works like a microwave and, sorry, there's no shield against it. Thing can even take down planes, if that's what floats your boat.
After the meeting, Syd and Jack are walking along as he ruminates on why Sloane would pull a stunt like this, even if he knew that the CIA would almost certainly retaliate. Syd doesn't have an answer for him. They walk up to Agent Sean, and he tells them that the crew finished the clean sweep of Ovary Electric and found audio and video surveillance. Gulp. Syd's all, VIDEO? Sean's all, yeah, in the control panel of the TV in your bedroo-- oh, dude. DUDE! Now I know why you're making that face. Oh ho ho! Guess we're going to be enjoying a little amateur spy porn over in Conference Room D later today! Woo!
Then we hear a phone ring and we're with Francinator, looking rather sharp in her brown leather jacket. She picks up and it's Syd, calling to tell her that, once again, she has to cancel their plans. Francinator manages to channel a little bit more of Foolio and bitches at Syd to quit her job. Now, that's more like it! Then Francinator's all, yeah, well, I was probably going to cancel on you anyway. Syd's all, so, you don't want to kill me, then? Francinator's all, well, actually, now that you mention it, I DO want to kill you, but for some reason, Satan Sloane made me sign some agreement that I wouldn't. Like, what is UP with you and him anyway? Francinator tells Syd that she has to go because she's right in the middle of something. Turns out that what she's right in the middle of is shooting some hapless plumber. Once he's been disposed of, Francinator opens up some locker and places what looks like surveillance crap in someone's bag. Oh, that's not TOO obvious or anything, now is it? I have no idea who the dead guy is or whose bag Francinator's futzing with, but she just shot a guy in cold blood, so let's assume she's up to no good. okay?
Minutes later, Syd's being tortured with the typical Marshall mambo. He's yammering on about Predator and how it's one of Schwarzenegger's best films and I am SO glad they're giving Marshall more screen time. I mean, yeah, his shit's annoying to recap so I usually don't even bother, but I really have fun watching him. Just because I don't transcribe his every word doesn't mean I don't LOVE him! I mean, this whole scene is hilarious and everything, but I just don't have the time to put it all down.
What's the nutshell? Fancy Fez has heat-seeking cameras all over his compound. So Syd has to wear a cold suit and goggles that will help her not show up on camera. See? A couple of sentences to describe a scene that lasts over three minutes. Damn, I'm good!
Kandahar. Again. Some more. Syd slinks her cold-suited way into the compound. Once she's downstairs, Vaughn instructs her to go to the end of the hall. Apparently Fancy Fez is a bit of a neatnik, and he keeps all of his weapons of mass destruction in a room at the end of the hall. Syd heads that way but discovers that there's no door. Vaughn's all, the whuh? With the whuh whuh? Syd surmises that there's been some reconstruction since the war, and declares that she's going to find another way in.
But first, she's going to have to kick some guy's ass so he can pull off her mask and get caught on camera. She starts to run off, but her escape's hindered by a bunch of guys with guns. Back at Oops Center, Vaughn demands that Kendall send the tactical unit in after Syd. Kendall's all, did she defuse the bomb? Vaughn's all, uh, kind of missing the point here, dude. Kendall's all, okay, uh, Barbie traipsed in wearing bells on her ass. I'm thinking Fez has been alerted and that, if he's smart, he'll start pointing that goddamn bomb all over the bloody place. Vaughn's all, SAVE HER. Kendall's all, find another way in, dude. Then we'll talk. He walks off and Vaughn just smolders at him.
Dixon's House of Harassment, Part Deux. Now it's Vaughn's turn to beg for Dixon's help. Vaughn hurriedly fills Dix in on the Sydney situation. Dix is all, look, in case you haven't noticed, I hate you guys. Fuck. Off. Vaughn's all, but I LURVE HER! Dix is all, I lurve my wife too! But you don't see me carting my ass to Afghanistan to steal her from the jaws of death, do you? Vaughn's all, okay, this isn't about YOU. Help me get my girlfriend back! We've only had sex, like, one hundred times, and that is simply UNACCEPTABLE. Dix is all, one hundred times? In the past few weeks? Dude, I haven't had sex one hundred times in the past few YEARS. I'm married. Don't play the sex card, dude. Just DON'T.
Fancy Fez's Institute of Interrogation and Intimidation. A big ol' bright light flashes on and Syd's strapped to a chair, looking pretty, but haggard. Fez is demanding that Syd tell him she's CIA. Syd doesn't respond. We fade away, only to have the light flash back on, causing Syd to blink and gasp. Then we hear the unbelievable sound of Sloane, instructing Syd to tell Fez what he wants to hear. Syd looks as surprised as I feel as Sloane walks up and kneels down to her.
"You know," he says, leaning closer to her, "in many ways, I consider you my proudest accomplishment." Ew. He states that there's nothing he can do about the Fez situation and then kisses her on the temple. Ew! If she weren't locked down, he would be SO dead right now. He whispers goodbye and leaves as we fade out again. The light flashes on again. Syd pants and looks around in a panic. Fez once again asks her to declare she's CIA, and has some rather torturous tools brought in as an incentive for her to talk. She just blinks at them.
The time the light flashes on, Fez has finally had enough of Syd's silent treatment. He swans in and is about to slam a chisel or something into Syd's right knee when, suddenly, he's shot down. A man enters and runs over to Syd. It's Vaughn. "You okay?" he asks, releasing her from the straps. The look of relief and love and joy on Syd's face is absolutely priceless. She kind of touches his head and asks how he found his way in. The answer to her question enters just then. And Syd's expression of, "Oh. My. God. It's DIXON," and her consequent almost-sob may even be more priceless than the look.
Dix is all business, telling them to get a move on because they have the device. Vaughn helps Syd to her feet and asks if they got Sloane. Unfortunately, no. As they make their way through the building, Dix comes across a guard. Some serious ass-kicking ensues, and this time it's Carl Lumbley who gets to kick it. Hee. Dixon's back! Yay!
They make it to the outer door and stop. There's a group of bearded guards sitting around a fire. Dix tosses a grenade into the circle, it explodes, and Vaughn and Syd make a break for some pickup truck. Some guy upstairs starts shooting at them, and Syd performs a dive roll and shoots him dead. Dix runs up, grabs Syd, and they toss themselves into the bed of the truck. As they drive off, guards start shooting at them, and Dix handles them all. Nicely done, Dix. Nicely done.
Oops Center. Syd's writing a letter to The Vine about her dysfunctional daddy issues when Spy Daddy himself approaches her and congratulates her on a job well done. Syd's all, nah, I was lucky. Jack's all, you were good! You got the weapon! Stop looking a gift horse in the mouth! She's all, yeah, so what? So I saved lives! Whatever. I didn't get Sloane. And I didn't find out what in the hell he was doing with Fancy Fez. Jack pulls out a bag with the surveillance stuff in it and tells Syd that it was found on the plumber whose name was on the list Syd provided. "He was murdered," he says. "He was either responsible for the bugs in your apartment, or he was set up." He touches Syd's shoulder gently and says, "I'm glad you're home." Aw. He walks away, and she looks over to see Dixon, sitting at his desk. She gets up and walks over to him.
She says hi and he says hi back, and then she thanks him for saving her ass. Again. Some more. Dix reveals that he can't judge her for not spilling it to him about SD-6 and that, if he had been in her position, he probably would have done the same thing. "What's going on with Diane?" she asks. Dix pauses and thinks for a moment. "I don't know," he says, rather helplessly. Syd looks at him with concern.
Later that night, Syd's relaxing in a nice hot bubble bath while visions of burning people dance through her head. Vaughn brings her a glass of wine and sits on the edge of the tub. They kind of look at each other. Finally, Vaughn says something about the Kings being in town on Friday. "You can watch the Zamboni," he says, his forehead crinkling adorably. Syd indulges him slightly, but can't really let a nice moment just, you know, BE, and promptly launches into the church sob story. Vaughn gently strokes her face, and she looks at him sort of sadly.
Satan Sloane's Silo of Secrecy. Little Sarkie's not pleased with Sloane. Not pleased at all. He's all, dude? You blabble on and on and ON about power and control but then, when we create this awesome weapon, you leave it in the hands of a complete fucking stranger?! The HELL? "Tell me," he says, his lips tense, "how was what happened good for us?" Sloane just responds by slamming the ugly "asshat" statue on the desktop. Well, now. That's quite the statement, Sloane.
He digs through the pieces and finds a piece of parchment. He tells Sark to hand him the top page of the manuscript. Sark does so. Sloane places the piece of parchment in the manuscript page and it fits perfectly. We don't see what it makes, or what its significance is, but Sark looks at Sloane, Sloane looks at the page, then looks straight ahead with this evil grimace on his face and the music goes, "Dun dun DUN!" So, I'm thinking that the assembled manuscript does NOT include a recipe for Apple Brown Betty.
Mmmm...Apple Brown Betty...