Previously on Alias: The previouslys take up half the damn episode, so in the interest of time, let's just cut to the chase, shall we? Syd stabbed Vaughn. Vaughn fall down and go boom. And there's no "Ten Things" list today because the only thing I learned during this episode was that Justin Theroux is hot, even when dead. And if you notice even more crabbiness than usual from your recapper, that's because my lower back is totally out of alignment and in spasms, my chiropractor did NOT recommend massage, I'm still out one imaginary boyfriend, and because I'm on painkillers at the moment, I CAN'T DRINK. Oh, fuck that. Julio! A quart of our finest vodka and a straw! Mommy can't fly without wings.
We open up on a placard that reads, "THREE HOURS LATER." We quickly switch to Syd, running pell-mell down a supposedly Spanish street. She gets to a pay phone and gives her agent info. She's patched through to Spy Daddy, who asks where she is. Um, shouldn't he KNOW where she is? Hello? Mission, anyone? Syd tells Jack that he has to activate the tracker right now, because she stuck it to Vaughn. Jack's all, um, honey? You were supposed to stick it to the virus, not your ex-boytoy. Syd's all, HE'S BLEEDING TO DEATH. Jack puts Marshall on the job.
While Marshall's working on it, Syd fills her dad in on what happened to both Vaughn and the biological weapons. She stabbed Vaughn (duh) and the biological weapons are in Soymoan's room. He and the boys went off somewhere to celebrate. Awfully premature of them, isn't it? I mean, only three hours have passed, right? Hardly time to pop the corks, if you ask me. Syd declares that she's going to break into Soymoan's room while they're gone and steal back the biological weapons. Oh, by the way, the term "biological weapons" is used approximately 14,988 times during this episode. Get used to it. We're only up to two, as far as I've counted.
Syd hangs up on her dad after he states that Vaughn will be saved. Then we switch over to some industrial alley somewhere as a van pulls up. Sark's waiting. Oh, yum. He's all in black. Goodness, he's a slender slice of tender beefcake. Soymoan and Chavez y Chavez exit the van and make their way over to Sark. Soymoan's all, what's all the rush then? Sark's all, timetable's moved up. That's all you need to know, muffin. Sark turns around to open his briefcase, and I swear to GOD Soymoan's looking at his ass. HoYay, anyone?
Sark opens his briefcase, and we get a glimpse of a couple of crisp foreign dollars flapping blithely over large stacks of white paper. Yeah, I'm gonna go with this being a glitch in the filming and not Sark trying to screw Soymoan out of his payment. Because Sark's just honorable that way, idn't he? Soymoan steps up and smiles at the money. "Now look at that," he says in his delightfully smarmy Cockney accent. "What's more beautiful than that?" Well, I can think of two more beautiful things, but you can't really spend David Anders or Justin Theroux at the duty-free, now can you?
Sark, after looking like he's contemplating either licking the side of Soymoan's face or just beating it with a stick, goes, "Perhaps what it pays for." At first, I was all, "What, Sevillian hookers and some blow?" But then I realized he was talking about the biological weapons. Soymoan just hands Sark a bottle of scotch. Sark kind of glares at Soymoan, then slugs back a nice notch. "Excellent," he sneers. Soymoan giggles. "Biological weapons, please," says Sark calmly. Was I kidding about the 284,551 times this phrase is mentioned? Was I? I mean, really. JUST ASK FOR "THE PACKAGE" AND BE DONE WITH IT.
I really and truly think the writers were wicked high when they wrote this one. And every time one of them said "biological weapons" they all just started giggling so hard they couldn't stop. I can just see it now. "Dude? We only have four hours to finish this episode." "Dude? I know. Shut up." Pause. Silence. "Pass me the biological weapons." "Hee! Oh, hee hee heeeeee! Dude, you suck." "Hee! I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself." "Well, I don't know about you, but I could really use a biological weapon right about now." "HEE! Stop it!" "HEE! I can't!" Lord.
Soymoan finally whips out (hee!) a smaller briefcase, opens it, and therein lies the biological weapon. Heh. Sark smirks, "You know it's rare to find people that do their job well." "Even a thief can take pride in his work, Mr. Sark," retorts Soymoan. Hee. How much do you think Anders and Theroux were cracking up during this scene? "Oy, blondie! You wan' go out fer kippers and mash?" "Get off, ya great git! An' it's 'bangers an' mash,' ye daft bugger!" Then they'd just dissolve in a fit of giggles because Anders is from Oregon and Theroux is from D.C. and they're both about 4,500 miles from being British.
Anyway, Soymoan hands over the case, Sark walks off with it, and Soymoan and Chavez return to their van. At the same time, Syd exits the hotel elevator and makes her way to the room. She hacks her way into Soymoan's room and ransacks it, looking for the briefcase. She finds it and starts to break into it with her handy break-in bracelet. Too bad Soymoan's just exited the elevator and is stalking deliciously to his room. Syd opens the briefcase, finds it empty, returns it quickly to the spot she found it in, and looks up just as she hears Soymoan trying to enter the hotel room.
Luckily, he can't get in on the first try, so she has time to strip completely and get in the shower. Wow. I can't get undressed that fast even when there's the promise of sex on the horizon. Soymoan finally enters and walks over to the bathroom where he, and we, are treated to a frosted shower curtain glimpse of Naked!Syd! Soymoan's all, "You know dis is trespassin'." By the way, he's totally doing Michael Caine's accent. Not sure if you realized that. Syd leans up against the frosted curtain, and we actually get a full-on breast shot. I'm not kidding. I mean, yeah, it's tweaked so we don't see nipple, but there's definitely a hint of nipple. Or maybe I just have an overactive imagination.
Syd's all, surprise, sweetie! Here are my breasts! Soymoan's all, oy! Noice breasts, der! An' where'd you go before? I was lookin' fer ya. Syd exits the shower, wrapping a towel around herself. She's all, oh, I had to call my daddy to get him to clean up another one of my messes. I mean, it ain't every day I kill my CIA ex-boyfriend. Soymoan's all, he weren't doin' his job very well, were he? Show us your breasts again!
He tells her that they already made the exchange. Syd's all, the Covenant already picked up the weapons? Soymoan's all, don't you mean the BIOLOGICAL WEAPONS? And yeah, they did. And I've got the stacks of white paper to prove it. He saunters over to her and licks his chops all, oy! Dis is 'orrible, 'enry 'iggins! Oive goh a floight latah dis moanin', an' oive nivvah wanted to leave a place less! And if you can't understand what he just said there, then you haven't read enough Irvine Welsh.
Syd's pouts something about the exchange not being until tomorrow. Soymoan just tells her they moved up the schedule. Sigh. Pretty. So pretty. And you know I ain't talkin' 'bout Syd. She pouts some more about when she's going to see him again. "I have so many questions," she simpers. "'Bout whuh?" Soymoan asks. "About everything," Syd says, managing to put a seductive spin on it. Soymoan just brushes her off with a modified "I'll call you." Then he bails. Hee. Even rocket-hot girly spies get blown off on occasion.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the California desert that's standing in for Spain, a CIA vehicle pulls up alongside the ravine where Vaughn's treating the plants to a little AB positive. Agent Sean is the one to locate him, and he runs over, screaming for the medic. There's blood all over Vaughn's face. Um. I'm no doctor, but didn't Syd stab him sort of in the side? Like, it looked like his liver or kidneys or something. I mean, unless she hit an artery, I'm finding the blood-covered face bit a tad over the top. At any rate, Weiss gets on the horn and informs someone out there that Vaughn's in bad shape.
And now is the time on -- hey, wait a minute. Where's the Alias dance music? Oh, dammit. It's not on for some reason. That's just…I think I'm going to cry.
Hospital Room of So-Not-Dying Hot Dudes. Oh. Oh, no. Please tell me we're not getting a Grieving Wife Montage. Jesus. We're getting a Grieving Wife Montage. Complete with speed-warp movements and Sobbing Strings of Annoying Anvils. I'm gonna let you all in on a little secret here: Vaughn doesn't die. Oh, and he still loves Syd. And Syd still loves him. And Killjoy's actually a fembot. Yeah. Nostradamus? He's got nothing on me, baby.
Syd exits the elevator. She walks over to Vaughn's room, but before she can make it there, Killjoy comes around the corner. I actually thought she was going to run into Syd's arms there for a minute. Weird. Instead, Syd just asks how Vaughn's doing, and Killjoy answers that she doesn't know. In a nutshell, he's critical but stable and he's not awake. Apparently, as Killjoy explains, Vaughn lost oxygen when his lung collapsed, and they don't know yet if he suffered brain damage or not. Oh, this is so stupid. He's not gonna die and he's not gonna have brain damage, okay? I love the writers, yo, but really? This little glitch is SO not necessary. Just have him be out for the count, okay? A bit of a coma here, some cardiac arrest there, and then bring him around in time for, say, his wedding to Syd.
Oh, and during the whole explanation of Vaughn's condition, Killjoy already looks inexplicably pissed off at Syd, as if this whole thing were her fault. Well, I mean, this whole thing was Syd's fault, but Killjoy doesn't know that yet. So she's a premature bitch as well as just a regular one. Nice to know. Syd chooses this moment to tell Killjoy that it was she who did the stabbing, not Soymoan. Killjoy's understandably riled. But before she can slam Syd's head against the nearest gurney a couple times, both their beepers go off simultaneously. "" is what they both read. Would that be another unexplained Rambaldi-esque "47" moment? Yeah. That's what I thought.
Conference Room of Endless Expositions. The whole gang's here, including the Angry Girls of Love's Revenge. According to Dix and some handy satellite footage, it would appear that Sark released his biological weapon somewhere over the Ural mountains. Apparently, the entire population of a prison was killed when the weapon was dropped. That's 300 guards and 500 prisoners. There was one survivor. Djimon Hounsou. Or, as he's known on Alias, Kazari Bomani. Or, as he's known in my house, Hot Guy With Pretty Accent And Big Arms. I haven't come up with a nickname for him yet, so, until I do, we'll just call him "Bomani."
Looks like Bomani is the largest arms dealer in Africa. I don't know about that, but he sure as hell has the largest ARMS in Africa. It also looks like Sark was one of the hazmat guys sent in to retrieve Bomani from the prison. Last time anyone saw Bomani, he was being escorted by the hazmat guys into a decontamination unit. Syd wants to know how he survived. Marshall gets up to blither his way through another trademark Marshall-ism, but Dix cuts him short, and we learn rather quickly that the Covenant hand-tailored the bio-weapon to kill everyone except the person whose genetic profile was encoded into the virus. "I mean, the whole thing's pretty cool," says Marshall. He gets looks from everyone. "In a sick, horrible way…" Hee.
Killjoy speaks up that Sloane has a conference in Mexico and she's scheduled to meet with him the day after tomorrow. Syd's all, um, did I miss something? What does Sloane have to do with this whole Bomani thing? Killjoy's all, oh, nothing, really. Except for that little part where Sloane gave us intel that nailed Bomani, and that was the whole damn reason we pardoned him in the first place. "He might have a lead," Killjoy bucktooths. Dix orders Syd to go with Killjoy to Mexico. What, again with the Mexico? Why? What, Sloane can't go to Marseilles or something? Man. The budget must be TIGHT this season.
Later, in The Corner of Father/Daughter Cracked Communications, Syd's whining to Jack about how Killjoy thinks Syd stabbed Vaughn as some sort of payback. Well, ya kinda did, Syd. Duh. Jack's all, oh, whatever. Killjoy's a bitch. And when somebody's spouse is hurt or killed, you know, rational thought ain't always easy. He is, of course, drawing parallels to his own spouse, one Irina Derevko. Nice. Syd's about to go on pouting about this, but Jack won't let her. Instead, he wants to know about Soymoan, because he's the only connection to the Lost Years. Jack asks if Soymoan ever explained how he knew Syd as Julia. Syd's all, nope. He just gave me the money, stared at my breasts a little more, then said he'd call me when another job came up. Jack gets the bright idea to hire Soymoan and his team for a false job. They'll bring him in for questioning, and once they have him, Syd and Jack will have a little face time with him and get to the bottom of the whole Lost Years thing. With a terse smile, Jack tells his daughter that, in regard to the whole Vaughn thing, she did the right thing. Aw. A father's approval is so valuable. Especially in regard to stabbing one's ex-boyfriend.
Airplane of Awkward Angry Girls. Killjoy's sitting apart from Syd, looking out the window at…well, nothing, actually. Syd walks over and sits down opposite her. Syd tries to get Killjoy to look on the bright side, especially now that Vaughn's off the ventilator. Killjoy, ever the, uh, killjoy, just tells Syd that the hospital's keeping Vaughn in an induced coma for 36 hours to prevent brain damage. They can induce a coma now? Damn. I really should look into that. My ex-boyfriend Ruprecht could use a two- or three-year coma right about now. That, and a terribly thorough ass-kicking. Right, Sars? ["Shut up, Ruprecht." -- Sars]
Killjoy just yammers at Syd about how she totally knows Syd intended to save Michael's life but that, when she heard that Syd was back, she, Killjoy, totally felt threatened. As well you should, you moany little whiner. She sympathizes with Syd, and everything she's gone through, "But working together like this -- the stakes of this job are just too high. And I don't know about you, but I can't work to the best of my ability while I'm wondering whether or not I'm being polite enough to my husband's ex-girlfriend." Oh, hee! Hee hee! That was a nice little bitchy speech there. See? I don't mind if she's a bitch. I just mind if she's not a good and tasty bitch. And she is in super-tasty bitch mode right about now.
Syd totally misses the point and tells Killjoy that she doesn't have to be polite with her, that they're past formalities now. Oh ho. You'll be sorry you said that, Syd. Killjoy decides to be blunt and tells Syd that she wants her to request a transfer to another field office. Syd's all, the whuh? In the whuh whuh? But everyone I know, the only friends and family I have, are at that office. Killjoy's all, uh-huh. Sob it, sister. I think YOU should make the request. "I know we're being blunt," says Syd, "but was that a threat?" Killjoy just glares at her. Syd's all, you don't have the authority to have me transferred. You're not the boss of me! Killjoy's all, oh yeah? The NSC will totally back me up here when they learn that our working together is compromising the fight against the Covenant. And I so AM the boss of you. Hello?! NSC trumps CIA on a bad day, beeyatch! "If you don't make the call," she spits, "I will."
Paris. Or a CGI image of La Défense that's blended into a bridge in downtown Los Angeles. Soymoan's standing on the bridge. Jack walks up, wearing rimless glasses, and he has what looks like silver hair dye cresting his crown. He and Soymoan go through some sort of agreed-to code, and they go through the motions of making a deal. Soymoan wants to know how Jack knew to contact him. Jack says they have a mutual acquaintance, Julia Thorne. God, his German accent is terrible. Really. It's the accent equivalent of The Beard. And what's up with the Julia last name here? When did we learn that, huh? In between ex-boyfriend stabbings and virus hijacking? The hell? Soymoan's all, oooh, I just lurve Julia. Jack blah blahs some fake deal to Soymoan. Soymoan takes the bait. The whole scene is pretty much unnecessary and only here to show how bad Jack's accent is, how adorable Justin Theroux is, and how long we're going between commercials. As Jack walks away, Chavez y Chavez takes his picture from afar.
Mexico City. Again. Some more. Killjoy and Syd sign in at a front desk somewhere. Killjoy tells the woman that they're here to see Uncle Arvin. She's all, oh, you're just in time! He just arrived! They all look out the front doors of the building, and there indeed is Sloane, beaming at them brightly and saluting them. After he salutes, some dude in a trenchcoat shoots Sloane's bodyguards. Killjoy ducks. Syd watches in horror. Sloane ducks. Sark exits a van that just pulled up outside. Oof, he's hot. Trenchcoat Guy grabs Sloane and shoves him into the van. Syd runs toward the exit. Inside the van, Sloane looks over and sees Bomani, looking hotter than ever in his dark brown suit. Trenchcoat shuts the door, and just as Syd exits the building, she shoots him dead and the van peels out, his body falling to the ground. Syd runs after the van. She takes a couple shots and misses. Probably because she blinks about nine thousand times when she's shooting. Worst. Spy. Ever. Speaking of worst spies, Killjoy screeches up in her big black car. "Get in!" Hee.
Syd climbs into the car, and Killjoy takes off. Syd's all, you done this before? Killjoy's all, uh, if by "done this" you mean "cross-trained at The Farm with some other students during our lunch hour." Syd's all, gulp. Killjoy's having the time of her life as she chases after the van. She's having so much fun, we just might have to call her "Joyride" for the duration of this scene. Inside the van, Sloane's trying to sweet-talk Bomani about the whole "turning him into the Feds" thing. Bomani just slams his fist into Sloane's face. Hee. Back in Joyride's car, Syd's cell phone rings. It's Soymoan, calling to talk about the new job. He's wearing the most god-awful tracksuit and plaid cap. Really. He's probably supposed to look sort of London street, but he just looks like a balding clerk from Foot Locker. Syd keeps talking on the phone as Joyride's all, look, do ya think you can, I dunno, TAKE A MESSAGE? Syd tells Soymoan she'll call him back and hangs up as Joyride gleefully continues her pursuit of the van. Sark orders the chase car to take Joyride and Syd out of the game.
Joyride informs Syd that there's someone behind them, just as one of them shoots out the back window. The chasing continues. Syd orders Joyride to hit the brakes and cut right. She does, and Syd hangs her arm out the window and shoots the shit out of the chase car. Hee. She takes out the car and screams at Joyride to keep driving. Joyride gets this look of complete and utter "oh my god I can't believe I'm doing this!" on her face. It's priceless. And yes, I loved her in this scene. Shoot me. More chase. More chase. More. Chase. Joyride makes a couple of risky moves that clearly thrill her, scare Syd, and don't get them any closer to their quarry. The van gets away. "Damn it!" exclaims Joyride, slamming her palms against the steering wheel. Oh, hee. Syd just looks at Joyride like, "Dude? Pull. It. Together. And I am SO taking the wheel time, got it?"
Secret Dark Dungeon of International Hotties and their Captives. Bomani's giving Sloane some irony-laden lip about how they were supposed to be partners. He goes on to make this really long speech about growing up in Juwa Town and rape and pillage and murder and whatever. If it's important, somebody nudge me. I'm too busy wondering when they're gonna make Djimon Hounsou take off his shirt. Come on already! The speech really does go on for an awfully long time. And I'm not saying it's not compelling or anything, because it is, but unless Bomani captured Sloane to avenge the rape and death of his mother, then it's really not relevant here. The only relevant thing is that Bomani mentions something about his brother's arm getting cut off by the bad guys because he tried to fight them. That little nugget'll be important here in a second.
Bomani keeps yammering at Sloane about justice and power and yadda yadda yadda. Then he passes behind Sloane and picks up a nice shiny machete. Ouch. Sark just watches with disinterest. Take off your shirt! Right, so, Bomani makes a raging jump to the point by declaring that he swore that anyone who tried to take his power away from him would suffer the same fate as his brother; namely, he'll cut off their arm. Looks like Sloane's losing more than a finger this time.
Sloane weasels his way out of immediate danger by telling Bomani that he turned him into the authorities in order to obtain that which Bomani needs right now: legitimacy. Yawn. Somebody take off their shirt or I'm going home. No, not Sloane! I've seen him shirtless! Gah! Sloane tells Bomani that he's in the position to help him become more powerful than ever. What's he up to, this sneaky little Satan Sloane? It's no good, as far as I can tell. Bomani just turns and looks at Sloane calmly. Then he swings the machete down, and we go to black before we can watch the blood spurt from Sloane's arm socket.
Oops Center. Dix, Killjoy, and Syd are just standing around the water cooler, rehashing the events for those of us who were undergoing laser eye surgery during the past twenty minutes. Sloane turned in Bomani. Sark released Bomani. Bomani and Sark get Sloane. Helloooo? Anyone there? Helloooo? Syd's all, well, hopefully Bomani's got his revenge and Sloane's either maimed, burned, battered, buttered, fried, tarred, feathered, fractured, and/or dead. Dix is all, uh, yeah. Okay. Briefing in my office in an hour. He leaves.
Syd sort of snaps some orders Killjoy's way and starts to walk off. Killjoy stops her and basically just drools and gibbers and globbers all over Syd with apologies and pure, unadulterated admiration and lust. I'm not kidding. She's all, I was SO out of line on the plane last night. I know it's going to be difficult, but I really want this to work. Especially if I get to ride around in speeding cars with you and shoot out car windows and squeal tires and shit. Because that is WICKED COOL. Syd's all, uh, yeah, speed freak. Real nice of you to say so, but I think I'm just gonna head over to Strategic Services and draw ugly pictures of you on the wipe board. Later! Syd walks off, and Killjoy seriously looks after her like Syd's made of fried chicken and she hasn't eaten since 1972.
Hospital Room Of Hallucinations That BETTER Be Real Sometime Soon. Captain Coma's sleeping. He wakes and sees Syd, sleeping in a chair by his bed. He whispers her name. She wakes and is all, dude! You're awake! Baby! Come to me! Oh. Wait. You can't. I'll come over there. She sits on the bed, and Vaughn asks where he is. She tells him he's home. "You stabbed me," he says with a grin. "Sorry," says Syd plainly. Hee. She takes his hand and starts to cry when she's all, you're okay and I was so afraid I lost you and I know this is only a dream sequence but can we make out for a little bit? Vaughn obviously thinks that's a good idea because he caresses her face for a second. Syd gets all weepy again, and even though this whole scene isn't real, JG totally nails the emotions here.
"Leaving you like that, not knowing if I'd ever see you again," she says, her following words blurting out in a rush, "made me realize how much I miss you." "I miss you too," he whispers. "You do?" she says. "Yep," he says, "now can we make out?" Syd leans in and they kiss, and even before The Serious Strings of Impending Doom shriek in our ears, we know something's rotten in Demark over here. Syd kind of looks up without leaving the kiss and then stabs Vaughn in the side. D'oh! No nookie for Captain Coma. "How could you do this to me?" hisses Dream Sequence Syd, looking extremely pale and actually kind of creepy.
Real Captain Coma wakes with a start. Unfortunately -- or, you know, maybe not, as the case may be -- it's not Syd by his bed, but Killjoy. She's all, you're okay, baby. By the way, do you remember me? Yeah. Because it's all about you, Borin' Lauren. God. How 'bout asking if he wants some ice chips? Or morphine? Or SYDNEY? "Do you remember me?" Shut the fuck up, Killjoy. Say no, Vaughn! Say NO! Here's your chance! Dammit. He doesn't go for it. And his highly insensitive and possibly stupid wife just lays her head down on his chest, roughly around the spot WHERE HE WAS PREVIOUSLY BLEEDING INTERNALLY. God. GOD.
Oops Center. Syd's rushing off to see the newly wakened Vaughn. Marshall scampers up and wants her to tell him about the healing properties of magnets. Oh, Marshall. You're so…so…kooky and karefree! And shut up before I put the healing power of magnets up your ass. Agent Sean walks up and tells Syd that Sloane's been nabbed and he's asking to talk to her. Marshall's all, hey, let's not tell Sloane about the magnets, huh? Agent Sean looks at him as if he has a baby rhino growing out of the left side of his skull.
Random Interrogation Room of No Importance. Sloane sits there, looking rather small, actually. And old. Once again, ladies and gentlemen, Ron Rifkin! Applause. Applause. Syd enters and wants to know what she missed. About three seconds of stellar non-acting, Syd. She wants to know if Sloane escaped. Nope, he says. That nice man Bomani let me go. Syd thinks this is about as likely as Melanie Griffith and Antonio Banderas actually remaining a couple past February 5th, 2004, and she snidely asks Sloane what he offered Bomani. Sloane's all, I gave him info, right? My contacts within the Japanese mob, the Yakuza or whatever, well, they just happened to have created the first AI computer virus. It does all sorts of whack-ass shit to computer systems, including writing itself and creating sub-viruses. Wanna crash markets? Destroy banks? Shut down transportation? Just give the Yakuza a call and a billion gagillion tragillion dollars, and their virus will handle it for you.
Syd's all, um, you just gave this info to the dude who's working with the Covenant? Sloane's all, that's right, sweetheart. And now I'm giving it to you so that you can go and disable the damn thing before he gets his hands on it. And I mean disable it, not destroy it, kiddo. Because if Bomani gets to that virus and it's been destroyed, my ass is grass, right? "My life is in your hands," he finishes. Syd just smirks. Killjoy's all, you told Bomani you'd work for the Covenant? Sloane's all, yeah, your point? "I'm telling you that I'm in a position to be a double agent," he says, clearly enjoying this. "Working with the Covenant, but loyal to the CIA." Hee. He puts hand gestures in there and everything. He's having a blast right now.
"This is classic," sneers Syd. Sloane's all, oh, don't take my word for it, honey. Have Marshall analyze the video he's taking of me right now. Then he leans forward and we switch to GAAAAH GAAAAH! Some heat-sensitive screen with Scary Evil Green and Blue Sloane on it! Ew! And the lie detector thingy is making his voice all metallic. EEEEEE! Wow. That's just. Ick. Don't EVER do that to me again, okay? I am seriously skeeved out right now. Thankfully, Marshall puts an end to my pain by pausing the Scary Evil Green and Blue Sloane video. Sloane's not lying, according to Marshall. No way to fool the machines, either. Killjoy and the NSC want to accept Sloane's proposal. Syd thinks they shouldn't. Oh, whatever. They SO accept the proposal, right? Because it's the ONLY way Sloane's not a wuss for the rest of the season. I mean, Killjoy and Syd fight and bicker, again, some more, about the whole thing, and they both have valid points, but who gives a shit? Sloane's a double agent, okay? Can we move on now? And I believe I ordered some shirtless men? Hello?
Once Syd and Killjoy stop yammering at each other, Dix states that Sark and Bomani are on their way to a Yakuza-run casino in Osaka, where they'll download the virus from a secure server and wreak havoc and chaos across the land. Marshall's gonna provide Syd with a program that will rewrite the program and render it unusable. Marshall pipes up that he'll only be able to do that if he sees the code. "Which means, I guess, I'm goin' on another mission!" he says, not entirely without glee. Dix is all, yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll have Strategic Services devise a scenario. Marshall's all, wait! I got one! A good way to get invited into the back room of a casino is to get caught cheating at cards! He proceeds to demonstrate his card-counting techniques. The only reason for this scene is to show us A) a hideous picture of Marshall from high school, complete with mullet, B) how annoying yet endearing Marshall continues to be, and C) that Marshall kicks ass at counting cards. I mean, yeah, it's funny and everything, but not really necessary for recapping purposes. Except this: "Had a lot of free time in high school," says Marshall. Hee. I bet you did, honey. So did I. When I wasn't licking my John Taylor poster, that is.
As they exit The Conference Room of Endless Expositions, Killjoy tells Syd that, now that Vaughn's awake, she should go see him before she heads off for Osaka. Syd's all, oh, okay. Sure. So, NOW I can hang out with Michael as long as you've sanctioned it and while you're IN LOVE WITH ME? Whatever. Meanwhile, in an orange-coated garage somewhere else on the planet, Sark stands waiting, bathed in Sunkist goodness. Chavez y Chavez enters and stalks across the slippery citrus floor, thanking Sark for meeting him. Seriously. This scene looks like the inside of a basketball, it's so orange. Chavez hands over an envelope with pictures of Jack inside and asks Sark to run a detailed check on him. What, so now Sark's an ERRAND BOY for CHAVEZ? Jesus. TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT. Sark takes one look at the picture and grins delightedly. He's all, I don't have to run a check, dude. He's Jack Bristow and he's CIA. And he's my sister's daddy! Hold me!
Le Havre, France. I have nothing funny about this location. I really don't. We're at some bizarre building with Christmas lights strung outside it, but when we go down below, we're in a warehouse of sorts and there are pools of cool blue light placed strategically throughout. German Spy Daddy tells Soymoan, clad in an inexplicable Pimp Daddy Leather hat, that if he enters the password, three million dollars will be transferred to Soymoan's account. Soymoan, sporting a white trainer with a zipper front as well as a black velvet jacket, just smiles sportingly at German Spy Daddy. Like, what is he wearing? I mean, REALLY? Are we in Kill Bill all of a sudden? What, is Soymoan paying homage to Uma Thurman or something? Because I SO wasn't given a memo on this.
Soymoan goes to enter his password and asks German Spy Daddy to look away as he does so. German Spy Daddy easily complies, knowing how damned futile it is of Soymoan to even ask. Soymoan enters his password, and as the funds are passed to his account, his cell phone rings. He picks up, apologizing to German Spy Daddy. It's Chavez on the other line. He's all, you're being set up, homes! The man standing before you? Yeah. He's Jack Bristow. Of the CI-fuckin'-A! Soymoan looks at German Spy Daddy. German Spy Daddy just looks back at him, smiling benignly. Oh, but Chavez y Chavez is on a roll. He's all, and, dude? His daughter? Sydney Bristow? Also goes by an alias: Julia Thorne. Okay. I'd just like to state for the record that Syd's Lost Years alias has NEVER been accompanied by a last name. Where in the FUCK did "Thorne" come from, eh? If it came from Sark, well, then, I'd believe that. Really. I would. But if it didn't? If the supposed "CIA" knew that and have just been keeping it from us, the viewing public? Well, then, that's just fucked up sideways, okay?
Soymoan's all, oh, great, mate! Thanks for that info! I'm sure Mr. German Spy Daddy'll appreciate that! Jack's all, appreciate what, exactly? Soymoan's all, oh, well, nothing you need to worry about, mate. The team's been assembled. As soon as the money's transferred, we'll be in business! Soymoan, prepared as he is with this new Sydulia intel, decides to fuck with her daddy. He's all, oy! You never tol' me how YOU met Julia! Were you like, lovers, or somefin'? Jack's all, um, not exactly. Soymoan, perfectly aware of what he's doing, goes, "I ask if you're lovers because, if you ever get the chance, I highly recommend it."
"Oh, do you?" asks Jack. "Oh, yeah," says Soymoan, unwisely. "On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the most degenerate displays of theatre known to man…oh! Julia's like…a 17." Soymoan's computer beeps. "You have your money," says Jack brightly. Jack removes the computer and puts it under his arm, extending his hand to Soymoan. Soymoan tells him that, as soon as the job's done, they'll be in contact. Jack smiles and turns away. Soymoan turns away as well, and unbuttons his coat, revealing a gun. Soymoan pulls it out and turns, ostensibly to shoot Jack. Unfortunately -- or fortunately, if that's the way you're thinking -- Jack's WAY ahead of him and shoots him down.
Soymoan's spitting blood and grunting, "You shot me. You shot me, you bastard!" Jack walks over, dumping his laptop onto the table. "Listen to me, very closely," he says. "Right now, I'm the only one who can get you to a hospital in time. Tell me about Julia. Where you met her -- how you knew her." Soymoan, leaking blood all over the nice floor, just gasps, "I wasn't kidding, about screwing your daughter. She's the wildest girl I ever had." Jack just says, "Tell me about Julia, if you want to live." Soymoan's not playing nice. "You wanna know how she likes it? She --" We don't get to find out how she likes it, because Jack shoots Soymoan dead. Oops. Guess we're not gonna find out much about "Julia" from a dead Soymoan, are we?
Osaka. International Gateway of Breathtaking Architecture and High Technology. Look, I just Googled "Osaka," okay? And that's what I came up with. It's not funny, no. But it is ACCURATE. We're in an Osaka gambling hall of some sorts, complete with girls in glittery dresses slit up to the thigh and men with shiny reflecting sunglasses. We move through the gambling hall, passing many gambling hall patrons, until we come upon Sydney, tricked out in a spiky black wig and feather boa and Marshall, dressed as a very short Texan. Then the camera sort of swoops around them and stops.
And here's where, if there weren't a soundtrack slamming over my speakers, we'd assume a record had been screeched in mid-song because, well, everyone in the place is staring at Marshall and Sydney. Syd looks coolly at everyone. Marshall just goes, "Howdy!" and hopes nobody shoots him. The hall returns to its business, and Marshall tells Syd that if he were any more nervous, he'd need new underpants right about now. Ew. And hee. Syd just "mmms" to him. Like, dude? I'm on this mission, I don't know what in the hell YOU'RE doing. Marshall sneezes and claims he's allergic to his vest. I'd be allergic to that vest too, Marshall. It's bloody awful. Syd moves over as Marshall blathers on about how he's just about to cheat at cards at a casino run by gangsters. Syd futzes with his bolo tie. She's all, we talked about this on the plane, right? "I need to know you can do this," she husks. Marshall shoves a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. "Let's play cards," he says, looking dastardly. Hee.
Marshall's Card-Counting Cornucopia. Apparently, Marshall's really good at counting cards. Because there's an entire SCENE, complete with a SOUNDTRACK, devoted to his card sharking. I'm not joking. I'd recap it, but I'm too busy WAITING FOR THIS EPISODE TO END. Oh, there's lots of good fun to be had from Marshall winning at cards. Especially when there's a weird rap/Kenny Rogers musical montage to enjoy! Look, Marshall wins whack money, okay? And he and Syd get pulled into the back room, just like they wanted. But not before one of the Osaka dudes questions them and Marshall feels compelled to smack Sydney on the ass so hard she makes a face like, "Dude? It's an assignment, okay? Bring it DOWN A NOTCH. And touch my ass again, you'll be pulling back a stump."
It's actually the funniest moment in the episode. The main Osaka dude's all, you feel lucky? And Marshall's all, lucky? I AM lucky, okay? I am lucky I won all this money, and I am even luckier that a woman as hot as this knows how rich I am and therefore shares my bed! And then he hits her ass. THWACK! Syd looks like she wants to smack Marshall from here to Beirut. But she holds it well. It's just a hilarious, really; Marshall, smacking Syd's ass, and Syd, not being able to do a damn thing about it. Hee.
Main Osaka Dude's all, hey, you come into the back, we can convert your winnings into diamonds or simply make an electronic transfer, yes? Marshall's all, oh, domo arigato, Mr. Tomosaka. Once in the back, both Marshall and Syd declare that they weren't cheating. No, they weren't cheating at all! Tomosaka takes a sword off the wall. "You were counting cards," he says calmly. Marshall's all, "You gonna cut off your own finger with that? 'Cuz that looks mighty big to take off a pinky." Tomosaka leaps forward and grabs Marshall's hand. "I thought I would take your hand!"
Syd leaps forward to save Marshall, and Marshall wisely unloads his bolo tie dart into Tomosaka's throat. He falls. Syd dispenses with the other men in about two seconds. She orders Marshall to put the fallen men into the closet. Once he does, he's free to mess with the computer virus. He sits in front of the computer console and enters the password Sloane gave Syd: Ravenson 327. The virus code comes streaming onto Marshall's computer screen. He says, "It's gonna take me a second to download a copy before I can render the virus unusable." Oh, shit.
Syd, watching the security monitors, sees Sark and Bomani enter the gambling club. She's all, we're gonna have to hurry. Sark's here. Marshall scrambles. Bomani kills a guard. Marshall's closer. Sark and Bomani shoot another guard in cold blood. Marshall's even closer. "It's disabled," whispers Marshall. Syd pulls him down as Sark enters, gun pointing. God, he's cute. He runs around to the desk where Syd and Marshall were and sits. Bomani just looks around and watches him. "It'll take me a second to transfer a copy to our server," Sark says, as Syd and Marshall watch his knees from beneath the desk. Sark works his magic with the keyboard as Marshall, and Syd, try to keep the sneezing to a minimum. "Done," says Sark, getting up. Bomani opens the door and they both exit. Syd lets go of Marshall's face. He sneezes. Heh.
Hospital Room Of Hallucinations. Oh. We're having a Felicity moment here. Syd and Sean and Killjoy and Vaughn are all hanging out, as if Syd hadn't stabbed Vaughn, and they're all just enjoying each other's company. Sean's yammering on about some girl he dated who loved guitar players. Oh, it's very cute and sweet and so not important right now. Except to state, once again, that Agent Sean heals all wounds. He's so healing that Vaughn actually grabs his wife's beer and drinks from it. She's all, is that a good idea? He's all, um, if I have to hear that story for the fifth damn time, YEAH. In fact, do you have any lighter fluid? Because this scene could use a little spontaneous combustion. Captain Non-Commando is all, I'm in better shape than this bitch was when he was injured. Agent Sean's all, bitch? I was hit in the jugular, okay? How 'bout you cut me some slack? "And, by the way, don't come crying to me if beer comes spraying outta that hole in your chest," Sean quips. Hee.
Vaughn chastises Sean with a whole "don't you have to get up early" thing. Sean does, indeed, have to get up early, so he goes to leave. Syd asks if she can grab a ride. Sean says, sure! As long as you're sleeping naked to me after the ride's over! Syd says goodnight to the Elephants and they say goodnight to her, holding hands as if their lives depended on it. Syd exits. Walking down the hall with Sean, she suddenly realizes she left her coat behind. Oh. Right. Because I always leave my coat behind. Jesus. So, like, anyway, Syd goes back and sees Killjoy caressing and caring for Vaughn in a way that Syd's never EVER going to be able to. I mean, unless Killjoy's out of the way and, well, I don't think that's going to happen any time soon, right? And then Syd walks away. WITHOUT HER COAT. Like, dude? Knock, open the door, grab your jacket, and WALK AWAY. Christ almighty. How hard is that? Seriously. My ex-boyfriend could be sticking it to his new eighteen-year-old supermodel girlfriend and I'd STILL walk in and get my damn coat. And I'm not even an ass-kicking spy!
Note to Syd: Get a backbone. And GET ON WITH YOUR LIFE. Gah.
on Alias: I don't care. If Soymoan is gone, I just don't care. Unless there's a naked Djimon Hounsou in my future…